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kept his teeth: after a satisfactory inspection thereof, I described a circle rouud him, and reached the wash-house. One foot on the window-sill and one hand on the leaden spout, I prepared for the great feat, but at that instant (owing to the dog's violent effort to strangle itself,) the staple holding the chain gave way, and without a word of apology, he seized me by that portion of my clothes unknown to angels. I held on to the spout, the dog held on to me. One derisive laugh rang through the air.

A lapse of several seconds, each of which seemed an hour.

Every moment I expected would be my last, when within reach I saw a broom-handle; to seize it, and deal him a fearful blow, was the work of an instant. Horror! the spout is giving way. A second fearful blow proved more fortunate—I broke the wash-house windows; one more, and I landed the stick on the dog's nose, in a way that sounded like cracking an egg-shell.

A dreadful howl followed; he let go. Windows again up —general howling, shouting, and a rally all around. During the melee I disappeared in at the window, and peeped round the blind; row gradually subsided.

An interval of five minutes. All quiet.

An interval of five more minutes. A policeman! composed, unruffled, dignified.


I want you to take a picter o' me and my old woman here, Jest as we be, if you please, sir,—wrinkles, gray hairs, and all;

We never was vain at our best, and we're going on eighty year, But we've got some boys to be proud of,—straight, an' handsome, and tall.

They are coming home this summer, the nineteenth day of July,

Tom wrote me (Tom's a lawyer in Boston, since fortyeight);

80 we're going to try and surprise 'em, my old wife and I,— Tom. Harry, Zay, and Elisha, and the two girls, Jennie and Kate.


I guess you've hearn of Elisha, he preaches in Middletown.

I'm a Methody, myself, but he's Piscopal he says. Don't s'pose it makes much difference, only he wears a gown j

An' I couldn't abide (beiu' old and set) what / call them Popish ways.

But he's good, for / brought him up: and the others—Harrv V Zuy—

They're merchants down to the city, an' don't forget mother 'n' me.

They'd give us the fat of the land, if we'd only come that way.

And Jennie and Kate are hearty off, for they married rich, you see.

Well, lud, that's a cuPus fix, sir! Do you screw it into the head?

I've hearn o' this photography, and I reckon its scarj work.

Do you take the picters by lightnin'?—La, yes; so the neighbors said: It's the sun that does it, old woman; V he never was known to shirk.

Wall, yes, I'll be readin' the Bible: old woman, what'll you


Jest sit on the other side o' me 'n' I'll take hold o' your hand.

That's the way we courted, mister, if it's all the same to you; And that's the way we're a goin', please God, to the light o' the better land.

I never could look that thing in the face, if my eyes was as good as gold.

Tain't over? Do say! What, the work is done? Old woman that beats the Dutch. Jest think! we've got our picters took; and we nigh eighty year old:

There ain't many couples in our town, of our age, that can say as much.

You see, on the nineteenth of next July our Golden Wedding comes on,— For fifty year in the sun and rain we've pulled at the same old cart;

We've never had any trouble to speak of, only our poor son *lhn

Went wrong, an' I drove him off; V it about broke the old woman's heart.

There's a Arop of bitter in every sweet. And my old woman and me

Will think of John when the rest come home. Would 1 forgive him, young sir? He was only a boy; and I was a fool for bein' so hard, you see:

If I could jist git him atween these arms, I'd stick to him like a burr.

And what's to pay for the sunshine that's painted my gray old phiz?

Nothin'! That's cur'us! You don't work for the pleasure

of working, hey? Old woman, look here! there's Tom in that face—I'm blest

if the chin isn't his!— Good God I she knows him—It's our son John, the boy

that we drove away.

AN ODE TO RUM—William C. Brown.

"O thou invisible spirit of wine I If thou bast no name to bo known by, lot m •all thee—devil."—Shakueare.

Let thy devotee extol thee,

And thy wondrous virtues sum;
By the worst of names I'll call the*,
O thou hydra monster—Rum I

Pimple-maker, visage-bloater,

Healt h corrupter, idler's mate;
Mischief-breeder, vice-promoter,

Credit-spoiler, devil's bait!

Almshouse-builder, pauper-maker,

Trust-betraycr, sorrow's source;
Pocket-empt ier, Sabbath-breaker,

Conscience-stifler, guilt's resource;

Nerve-enfeebler, system-shatterer,

Thirst-increaser, vagrant thief;
Cough-producer, treacherous flatterer,

Mud-bedauber, mock-relief;

Business-hinderer, spleen-instiller,
Woe-begetter, friendship's ban*;

Anger-heater, Bridewell filler,
Debt-involver, toper's chain I

Memory-drowner, honor-wrecker,
Judgment-warner, blue-faced quack;

Feud-beginner, rags-bedecker,
Strife-enkindler, fortune's wreck I

Summer's cooler, winter's warmer,
Blood-polluter, specious snare;

Hob-collector, man-transformer,
Bond-undoer, gambler's fare!

Speecb-bewrangler, headlong bringer,
Victuals-burner, deadly fire;

Riot-mover, tirebrand-flinger.
Discord-kindler, misery's sire;

Sinews-robber, worth-depriver,
Strength-subduer, hideous foe;

Reason-th waiter, fraud-contriver,
Money-waster, nation's woe!

Vile seducer, joy-dispeller,

Peace-disturber, blackguard guest; Sloth-implanter, liver-sweller,

Brain-distraeter, hateful pestl

Utterance-boggier, stench-emitter,
Strong-man-sprawler, fatal drop;

Tumult-raiser, venom-spitter,
Wrath-inspirer, coward's prop;

Pain-inflicter, eyes-inflamer,
Heart-corrupter, folly's nurse;

Secret-babbler, body-maimer,
Th'rift-defeater, loathsome curse I

Wit-destroyer, jov-iinp:\irer,

Scandal-dealer, foul-mouthed scourge; Senses-blunter, youth ensnarer,

Crime-inventor, ruin's verge;

Virtue-blaster, base deceiver,
Spite-displayer, sot's delight;

Noise-exciter, stomach-heaver,

Falsehood-spreader, scorpion's bite I

Quarrel-plotter, rage-discharger,
Giant-conqueror, wasteful sway;

Chin-carbuncler, tongue-enlarger,
Malice-venter, death's broad way I

Tempest -scat terer, wind, iw-smasber,
Death-forerunner, hell's dire brink!

Ravenous murderer, windpipe-slasher. Drunkard's lodging, meat, and drink.

THE FIRST AND LAST DINNER. Twelve friends, much about the same age, and fixed by I heir pursuits, their family connections, and other local interests, as permanent inhabitants of the metropolis, agreed one day when they were drinking wine at the Star and Garter at Richmond, to institute an annual dinner among themselves, under the following regulations:—That they should dine alternately at each other's houses on the first and last day of the year; and the first bottle- of wine uncorked at the first dinner should be recorked and put away, to be drunk by him who should be the last of their number; that they should never admit a new member; that when one died, eleven should meet, and when another died, ten should meet, and so on; and when only one remained, he should on these two days dine by himself, and sit the usual hours at his solitary table; but the first time he had so dined, lest it should be the only one, he should then uncork the first bottle, and in the first glass, drink to the memory of all who were gone.

Some thirty years had now glided away, and only ten re. mained; but the stealing hand of time had written sundry changes in most legible characters. Raven locks had become grizzled; two or three heads had r;ot as many locks as may be reckoned in a walk of half a mile along the Regent's Canal—one was actually covered with a brown wig—the crow's feet were visible in the corner of the eye—good old port and warm Madeira carried against hock, claret, red burgundy, and champagne—stews, hashes, and ragouts, grew into favor—crusts were rarely called for to relish the cheese after dinner—conversation was less boisterous, and it turned chiefly upon politics and the state of the funds, or the value of landed property—apologies were made for coming in thick shoes and warm stockings—the doors and windows were more carefully provided with list—the fire was in more request—and a quiet game of whist filled up the hours that were wont to be devoted to drinking, singing, and riotous merriment. Two rubbers, a cup of coffee, and at home by eleven o'clock, was the usual cry, when the fifth or sixth glass had gone round after the removal of the cloth. At

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