Daily feeding and caressing, these had won the puliet's heart; Following close her master's footsteps, seldom they were far apart; And his love grew deeper, stronger, with the passing of each day "Wiser far than any woman," wicked Blobbs was wont to say. Near by rose a wondrous structure-architects their brains had racked Cross between a Chinese temple and a cruet-stand, in fact. This the pretty pullet's dwelling; here she hastened every night; Perched on high, became a rooster till the dawning of the light. One sad day a Yankee peddler, glib, persuading, passing by, Gazed at Blobbs and that poor pullet with a calculating eye. From his wagon's deep recesses drew out, smiling wickedly, "Johnson's Patent Hen-Persuader;" then to guileless Blobbs said he : "Here's a marvelous invention! In this box you see a nest; Hens at once will lay an egg here, lured to do their very best. Then behold! this sliding bottom lets the egg drop out of view, And the hen, somewhat bewildered, lays at once egg num ber two!" Twould be useless to repeat all that this wily peddler said; This suffices. Blobbs, unwary, by his specious tongue misled, Bought the "Patent Hen-Persuader," set his snow-white pullet on, Locked them both within the hen-house ere he went to town that morn. Business then engrossed him fully, till, with num'rous cares beset, Who can wonder that the pullet and her nest he should forget? Nothing all day to remind him; but returning late at night, Flashed a sudden recollection, and his cheek grew pale with fright. Rushing madly from the station, straight he sought the hen-house door, Called his pet in tones entreating. Ah! she'll never answer more! Full of gloomiest forebodings, in he dashes; finds the nest Overflowing with its treasures-yes, she's done her level best. Forty-seven eggs! and near them head and tail and wings still lay, For the poor ambitious pullet thus had laid herself away! WHAT BIDDY SAID IN THE POLICE COURT. Yis, luk at me now, if ye can, Tim, It's bruised an' it's ugly-I know it— Ye dhrunken-I'm ready, yer Honor, An' the black an' blue bruise on me shoulther Whisht, officer-what's that ye're sayin'? "Me complaint?" why, what's ailin' ye, man? For sure an' I'm afther complainin', Yer Worship, as fast as I can! Whin ye kim home last night, now that's thrue, Tim, The place was so purty an' nate, Wid such ilegant corn bafe an' inyons Set out on me blue chaney plate; An' Molly a-waitin' to show ye But, Tim, ye'd bin dhrinkin', ye blackguard, An' ye b-a-ate an' abused me a-an' M-ol-ly But whin ye turned over the table, An' smash! wint me plate on the floor, An angel cud never kape silence, So thin-I'll confess it-I swore! Jist wance, an' ye needn't have minded, But wurra! ye knocked down the shtove, Tim, But niver mind, darlint, here's money,- So come along home wid yer Biddy, Come on, Tim--good mornin', yer Honor, SOMETIME.-HOSEA Q. BLAISDELL. I am waiting for the shadows round me lying I am waiting for the sunlight, always flying, I know there's light beyond the cloudy curtain, That it will shine on me I now am certain, I am waiting for the summer's golden lustre,— When golden fruits around my life shall cluster We read of fadeless flowers in fabled story, And I shall pluck them in their pristine glory, Then I shall hear the voice of loved ones call me And I shall then, whatever may befall me, For on my ear sweet notes of love shall tremble From heart and lips that never can dissemble, I am waiting; but at times I grow so weary,— When all the pain which makes our life so dreary I know the heart oft filled with tones of sadness, Shall echo with songs of love and gladness, THE FIRE-FIEND.-JESSIE Glenn. Hark! hark! o'er the city, alarm bells ring out, "Ha! ha! here we are! Yes, the Fire-Fiend is out! Dash them on! higher! higher! flames everywhere." But stay! a wild cry rises loud o'er the din, A woman is shrieking, "my child sleeps within, A little child die, yet do nothing for me? She burns! she is lost!" shrieks the mother, half wild, "Are ye men? have ye hearts? then help my poor child." "Be calm," cried a fireman, young, sturdy, and brave, On her knees sank the mother, lips moving in prayer, "Will he ever come back?" No sound in reply 66 Two victims are mine! I am king here to-night." Not so! Oh, not so! for mid joy-speaking cheers, Gives the babe to its mother, then looks calmly round, "Thank God, that he gave me the strength this to do!" We will," cried a voice, “but we also thank you!" 66 The Fire-Fiend rushed by on his merciless path, MRS. POTTS' DISSIPATED HUSBAND. One night during the recent troubles in the Pennsylvania coal regions, Judge Potts' brother, Thomas Potts, was round at a meeting of mine-owners, and after the adjournment he stepped into a tavern. While there he met some friends, and in the course of an hour or two he got very intoxicated. On the way home he lost his hat, and a miner who knew him, feeling compassion for him, clapped on his head a miner's hat; and in order to make the dark street look brighter, he lighted the lamp in front of the hat. When Potts reached the house his wife had gone to bed, and the lights were out; but Potts felt certain the lamp was burning in the hall, yet he couldn't for the life of him tell where it was. He looked at the regular lamp, and it seemed to be out; then he hunted in every direction for the light, but was unable to find it, although it seemed to shine brightly wherever he went. Presently he happened to stop in front of the mirror in the hat-rack, and then he saw precisely where the light was. After a brief objuration upon Mrs. Potts for leaving a light in such a place, he went up to the mirror, and tried to blow it out. He blew and blew, but somehow the flame burned as steadily as before. "That," said Potts, "is the most extraor'nary lamp's ever been my misfortune t'encounter." Then he took off his coat, and holding it in front of him, crept cautiously up to the mirror, and tried to crush the coat over the lamp, which still burned brightly. He said: "That's cer'ingly very extro'nary! Moz' 'stonishin' circumstanz ever come un'er my obzervation. Don't know how t'count for it!"" |