And the next that I remember, it started in a joke,
But for full a week it lasted, and neither of us spoke;
And the next was when I scolded because she broke a bowl,
And she said I was mean and stingey, and hadn't any soul.

And so that bowl kept pourin' dissensions in our cup,
And so that blamed cow-critter was always a-comin' up;
And so that heaven we arg'ed no nearer to us got,
But it gev us a taste of somethin' a thousand times as hot.

And down on us came the neighbours, a couple dozen strong,
And lent their kindest sarvice for to help the thing along:

And I have been thinkin' and thinkin', the whole of the winter and fall,
If I can't live kind with a woman, why, then, I won't at all.

And so I have talk'd with Betsey, and Betsey has talk'd with me,
And we have agreed together that we can't never agree;
And what is hers shall be hers, and what is mine shall be mine,
And I'll put it in the agreement, and take it to her to sign.

Write on the paper, lawyer,-the very first paragraph-
Of all the farm, live stock, and cash, that she shall have her half;
For she has helped to earn it, through many a weary day,
And it's nothin' more than justice that Betsey has her pay.

Give her the house and homestead,-
,—a man can thrive and roam,
But women are skeery critters, unless they have a home;
And I have always determin'd, and never failed to say,
That Betsey never should want a home if I was taken away.

Yes, I see you smile, sir, at my givin' her so much :
Yes, divorces is cheap, sir, but I take no stock in such!
True and fair I married her when she was blithe and young,
And Betsey was al'ays good to me, exceptin' with her tongue.

Once, when I was young as you, and not so smart, perhaps,
For me she mitten'd a lawyer, and several other chaps;
And all of them was fluster'd, and fairly taken down,
And I, for once, was counted the luckiest man in town.

Once when I had a fever-I won't forget it soon-
I was hot as a basted turkey and crazy as a loon ;—
Never an hour went by me that she was out of sight-
She nursed me true and tender, and stuck to me day and night.

And if ever a house was tidy, and ever a kitchen clean,
Her house and kitchen was tidy, as any I ever seen;
No-I don't complain of Betsey, or any of her acts,
Exceptin' when we've quarrell'd, and told each other facts.

So draw up the paper, lawyer, and I'll go home to-night,
And read the agreement to her, and see if it's all right;
And then, in the mornin', I'll sell to a tradin' man I know,
And kiss the child that was left to us... and out in the world I'll go.

And one thing put in the paper that first to me didn't occur,
That, when I am dead at last, she'll bring me back to her;
And lay me under the maples I planted years ago,
When she and I was happy before we quarrell'd so.

And when she dies, I wish that she would be laid by me,
And, lyin' together in silence, perhaps we will agree;
And, if ever we meet in heaven, I wouldn't think it queer
If we loved each other the better, because we quarrell'd here!

XLV. HOW BETSEY AND I MADE UP.-Will Carleton.

GIVE us your hand, Mr. Lawyer: how do you do to-day?
You drew up that paper? I'spose you want your pay;
Don't cut down your figures; make it an Xor a V,

For that 'ere written agreement was just the makin' of me.

Goin' home that evenin' I tell you I was blue,

Thinkin' of all my troubles, and what I was goin' to do;
And if my horses hadn't been the steadiest team alive,

They'd have tipped me over, certain, for I couldn't see where to drive

No-for I was labourin' under a heavy load

No-for I was travellin' an entirely different road;

For I was a-tracin' over the path of our lives ag'in,

And seeing where we missed the way, and where we might have been.

And many a corner we'd turn'd that just to a quarrel led,
When I ought to've held my temper, and driven straight ahead;
And the more I thought it over, the more the memories came,
And the more I struck the opinion that I was the most to blame.

"But," says I, "we're too far along to take another track,
And when I put my hand to the plough, I do not oft turn back;
And 'tain't no uncommon thing for couples to smash in two!"
So I set my teeth together, and vow'd I'd see it through!

When I come in sight o' the house, 'twas some'at in the night,
And just as I turned the hill-top I see the kitchen-light;
Which often a handsome pictur' to a hungry person makes,
But it don't interest a feller much that's goin' to pull up stakes.
And when I went into the house, the table was set for me-
As good a supper's I ever saw, or ever want to see;
And I cramm'd the Agreement down my pocket as well as I could,
And fell to eatin' my victuals-which, somehow, didn't taste good.

And Betsey, she pretended to look about the house,

But she watch'd my side coat-pocket as a cat would watch a mouse; And then she went to foolin' a little with her cup,

And kept readin', readin' the newspaper,-a-holdin' it wrong side up.

And when I'd done my supper, I draw'd the Agreement out
And giv' it to her without a word, for she knowed what 'twas about;
And then I humm'd a little tune, but now and then a note
Was bu'sted by some animal that hopp'd up in my throat.

Then Betsey she got her specs from off the mantel-shelf,
And read the article over quite softly to herself;
Read it by little and little, for her eyes is gettin' old,
And lawyers' writin' ain't no print, especially when it's cold.

And after she'd read a little she give my arm a touch,

And softly said, she was afraid I was 'lowin' her too much;

But when she was through, she came to me, her face a-streamin' with tears,

And kissed me--for the first time in over twenty years!

I don't know what you'll think, Sir-I didn't come to inquire-
But I picked up that Agreement, and stuff'd it in the fire:
And I told her we'd bury the hatchet alongside of the cow;-
And we struck a new Agreement-never to have another row!

And I told her in the future I wouldn't speak cross or rash
If half the crockery in the house was broken all to smash;
And she said, in regards to Heaven, we'd try and learn its worth,
By startin' a Branch Establishment, and runnin' it here on Earth.

So make out your bill, Mr. Lawyer: don't stop short of an X;
Make it more if you want to, for I have got the cheques.
I'm richer than a National Bank with all its treasures told,
For I've got a wife at home now that's worth her weight in gold!

XLVI.-ABOU BEN ADHEM AND THE ANGEL.-Leigh Hunt.
ABOU BEN ADHEM (may his tribe increase!)
Awoke one night from a deep dream of peace,
And saw, within the moonlight in his room,
Making it rich, and like a lily in bloom,-
An Angel, writing in a book of gold:
Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold,
And to the Presence in the room he said,

"What writest thou ?"-The Vision raised its head,

And, with a look made of all sweet accord,

Answered, "The names of those who love the Lord."
"And is mine one ?" said Abou.

66

'Nay, not so,"
Replied the Angel. Abou spoke more low,
But cheerly still; and said, "I pray thee, then,
Write me as one that loves his fellow-men."

The Angel wrote, and vanished. The next night

It came again with a great wakening light,

And showed the names whom love of God had blessed,—
And lo! Ben Adhem's name led all the rest!

ADDITIONAL COMIC EXTRACTS

FOR

RECITATION.

I. SONG OF THE SPEAKER.-Anonymous.

WITH patience weary and worn, with eyelids heavy as lead,
The "Speaker" sat in his chair of state, nodding his drowsy head:
And whilst the dull debate maintained its sluggish reign,

The dubious doze, which refuses repose, suggested these thoughts to his brain:

"Talk! talk! talk! whilst the cock is crowing aloof;

And talk-talk-talk!-till the stars shine on the roof!
It's O, to be the slave, the Infidel Dog' of the Turk,

6

Rather than sit to superintend this sham-senatorial work!—

Talk! talk! talk! the rattle never flags;

And what are its products? Little, alas, but rhetoric's wretched rags!
A shattered joke, or a naked lie,-of candour's cant a store-
A debate so blank, that sleep I thank if it cast its shadow o'er!—

"Talk! talk! talk! from weary chime to chime;

And talk-talk-talk! as if silence were a crime!

'Oh!' and Order!' and 'Hear!'-'Hear!' and Order!' and' Oh!' Till every sense is as drowsy and dense as the eye that lost its glow.

"Talk-talk-talk! in the dull and heavy night;

And talk! talk! talk! when the sun is warm and bright;

'Tis ever a Winter to me; no change the Seasons bring;

And Nature gay, in her bridal array, but twits me with the Spring!...

"Oh, but for one short hour-a respite, however brief—

From these windy nothings that ever fill the statesman's mind with grief!

A little more work, a little less talk might ease the common fate;
But the Country's smart never touches the heart of the Moloch of
Debate!"

With patience weary and worn, with eyelids heavy as lead,

The "Speaker" sat in his chair of state, nodding his drowsy head;

And whilst the dull debate maintained its sluggish reign,

The dubious doze, which refuses repose

Which deadens, oft only to deepen, our woes

Suggested these thoughts to his brain.

II. THE PRAISE OF LITTLE WOMEN.-(Translation.)—Longfellow.

To praise the Little Women, Love besought me in my musing;
To tell their noble qualities is quite beyond refusing:

So I'll praise the Little Women, and you'll find the thing amusing;
They are, I know, as cold as snow,-whilst flames around diffusing!

In a little precious stone, what splendour meets the eyes!
In a little lump of sugar, how much of sweetness lies!

So in a Little Woman love grows and multiplies:

You recollect the proverb says—" A word unto the wise."

A peppercorn is very small, but seasons every dinner
More than all other condiments, although 'tis sprinkled thinner:
Just so a Little Woman is, if Love will let you win her-
There's not a joy in all the world you will not find within her!

And as within the little rose you find the richest dyes,
And in a little grain of gold much price or value lies,
As from a little balsam much odour doth arise,

So, in a Little Woman, there's a taste of Paradise!

Even as the little ruby its secret worth betrays,—

Colour, and price, and virtue, in the clearness of its rays-
Just so a Little Woman much excellence displays,—
Beauty, and grace, and love, and fidelity always.

The skylark and the nightingale, though small and light of wing,
Yet warble sweeter in the grove than all the birds that sing:

And so a Little Woman, though a very little thing,

Is sweeter far than sugar, and flowers that bloom in Spring!

There's naught can be compared to her throughout the wide creation;
She is a Paradise on Earth-our greatest consolation;

So cheerful, gay, and happy, so free from all vexation ;—
In fine, she's better in the proof, than in anticipation!

If, as her size increases, are Woman's charms decreased,
Then surely it is good to be from all the great released.
Now, "Of two evils choose the less," said a wise man of the East;
By consequence, of Woman-kind be sure to choose the Least!

III.-HERE SHE GOES AND THERE SHE GOES.-James Nack.

Two Yankee wags, one summer day, stopped at a tavern on their way; supped, frolicked, late retired to rest, and woke to breakfast on the best. The breakfast over, Tom and Will sent for the Landlord, and "the bill;" Will looked it over;" Very right—But hold! what wonder meets my sight? Tom! this surprise is quite a shock!" wonder? Where?" "The clock, the clock!"

"What