Then holding the spectacles up to the court- As wide as the ridge of the nose is! in short, "Again, would your worship a moment suppose I VANT TO FLY. DURING the last war there were a number of French officers, in an inland town, on their parole of honour. Now, one gentleman, being tired with the usual routine of eating, drinking, gambling, smoking, &c., and therefore, in order to amuse himself otherwise, resolved to go a fishing. His host supplied him with a rod and line, but being in want of artificial flies, went in search of a fishing-tackle-maker's shop. Having found one, kept by a plain pains taking John Bull, our Frenchman entered, and with a bow, a cringe, and a shrug of the shoulders, thus began : 'Ah, Monsieur Anglise, comment vous, portez vous?' "Eh, that's French,' exclaimed the shop-keeper; not that I understand it, but I'm very well, if that's what you mean.' 'Bon bon, ver good; den, sare, I sall tell you, I vant deux fly.' 6 'I dare say you do, Mounseer,' replied the Englishman, and so do a great many more of your outlandish gentry; but I'm a true-born Briton, and can never consent to assist the enemies of my country to leave it-particularly when they cost us so much to bring them here.' 'Ah, Monsieur, you no comprehend; I sall repeate, I vant deux fly, on de top of de vater.' 'Oh! what you want to fly by water, do you ? then I'm sure I can't assist you, for we are, at least a hundred miles from the sea-coast, and our canal is not navigable above ten or twelve miles from here.' 'Diable, mon Dieu! sare, you are un stup of the block. I sall tell you once seven times over again—I vant deux fly on the top of de vater, to dingle dangle on de end of de long pole.' Ay, ay! you only fly, Mounseer, by land or water, and if they catch you, I'm damned if they won't dingle dangle you, as you call it, at the end of a long pole.' 'Sacre un de dieu! la blas! vat you mean by dat, enfer diable? you are un bandit jack of de ass, Johnny de Bull. Ba, ba, you are effronte, and I disgrace me to parley vid you. I tell you, sare, dat I vant deux fly on de top of de vater, to dingle dangle at de end of de long pole, to la trap poisson,' 'What's that you say, you French Mounseer-you'll lay a trap to poison me and all my family, because I won't assist you to escape? why, the like was never heard. Here, Betty, go for the constable.' The constable soon arrived, who happened to be as ignorant as the shop-keeper, and of course it was not expected that a constable should be a scholar. Thus the man of office began : 'What's all this? Betty has been telling me that this here outlandish Frenchman is going to poison you and all your family? Ay, ay, I should like to catch him at it, that's all. Come, come to prison, you delinquent.' 'No, sare, I sall not go to de prison; take me before de-what you call it-de ting what nibble de grass?' 'Oh, you mean the cow.' 'No, sare, not de cow; you stup Johnny boeuf---I mean de chouvel, vat you ride. [Imitating] Com, sare, gee up. Ah, ah.' 'Oh, now I know, you mean a horse.' 'No, sare, I mean de horse's vife.' 'What, the mare.' 'Oui bon, yes, sare, take me to de mayor.' 1 This request was complied with, and the French officer soon stood before the English magistrate, who, by chance, happened to be better informed than his neighbours, and thus explained, to the satisfaction of all parties. "You have mistaken the intentions of this honest gentleman; he did not want to fly the country, but to go a fishing, and for that purpose went to your shop to purchase two flies, by way of bait, or, as he expressed it, to la trap la poisson. Poisson, in French, is fish.' 'Why, aye,' replied the shop-keeper, that may be true-you are a scholard, and so you know better than I. Poison, in French, may be very good fish, but give me good old English roast beef.' THE GRAVE STONES. THE grass is green and the spring floweret blooms, And every bud and blossom of the spring, Over a kindred grave.-Ay, and the song Of many a thousand years of death gone by, The remnant of a moment, spared by him This globe is but our father's cemetery The sun, and moon, and stars that shine on high, As heedless of it. Thus he perishes. That oft had clung around me like a wreath Had reared the stone, her monument of fame. And spared not one of all the infant group. I'm a dapper little shaver, Spoken.] Mr. Razor, says my poor deceased mother; My duck, says my father. Vy, lovy, I've been thinking as how ve should send Tony to a larned seminary, for |