... THE FATHERLESS—Bt Mrs. He*ry Lynch. Speak portly the fEthcrlp*.* ! Ami ch«*rk the harnh reply That the crimson to the cheek. The tear-drop the eye. They have the weight of lonelineaa In this rude world to bear; Then gently raise the fallen laid. The drooping floweret spare. Speak kindly the fatherleae! The lowliest of their band tlod keepeth, the waters— the hollow of his hand. sad see life’s ...