Up, up, my heart! Up, up, my heart, This day was made for thee! For soon the hawthorn spray shall part, And thou a face shalt see That comes, O heart, O foolish heart, This way to gladden thee. --_H. C. Bunner_. Stoddard's telegram was brought to me on the Glenarm pier at four o'clock Tuesday afternoon, the fifth of June. I am thus explicit, for all the matters hereinafter described turn upon the receipt of Stoddard's message, which was, to be sure, harmless enough in itself, but, like many other scraps of paper that blow about the world, the forerunner of confusion and trouble.…
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