The dry and embalming air of the mine Who was he, then? No man could say In their great rough arms, begrimed with coal, Will carry a babe, from that darksome hole To the outer world of the short warm grass. Older than any one here, I guess! Belike, she may mind when the wall fell there, And remember the chap by his comeliness." So they brought old Bess with her silver hair, To the side of the hill, where the dead man lay, Ere the flesh had crumbled in outer air. And the crowd around him all gave way, Then suddenly rang a sharp, low cry! "O Willie! Willie! my lad! my lost! O Willie darlin', were bitter tears! They said ye were auver the sea-ye'd found O darlin', a long, long life o' pain I ha' lived since then! ... And now I'm old, 'Seems a'most as if youth were come back again, Seeing ye there wi' your locks o' gold, Between us! . . . . O Willie! how strange it seems To see ye here as I've seen ye oft, And none In broken words like these, with soft For surely a sight like this, the sun The dead, with its undimmed fleshly grace, Of its warm girl-beauty. A wizard's trick Those bodies were just of one age; yet there But the moment was come;-as a moment will When, at the top, as their eyes see clear, Mere specks their trials and toils appear Beside the eternal rest they know. And now, though the rains and winds may rave, And there, while the summers and winters glide A BOY.-N. P. WILLIS. There's something in a noble boy, And in his clear and ready smile, And felt its very gladness. And yet, it is not in his play, When every trace of thought is lost, But when, amid the earnest game, Remembering a thousand things 'Tis strange how thoughts upon a child When foot and hand, and ear and eye, A feeling whose mysterious thrall How, with the clouds, he'll float away, LORD DUNDREARY PROPOSING.-F. J. SKILL. "Any fellah feelth nervouth when he knowth he 'th going to make an ath of himthelf." But That's vewy twue,-I-I've often thed tho before. the fact is, evewy fellah dothn't make an ath of himthelf, at least not quite such an ath as I've done in my time. I– don't mind telling you, but 'pon my word now,—I—I've made an awful ath of mythelf on thome occations. You don't believe it now, do you? I-thought you wouldn't— but I have now-weally. Particularly with wegard to women. To tell the twuth, that is my weakneth,-I s'pose I'm what they call a ladies' man. The pwetty cweachaws like me,—I know they do, though they pwetend not to do so. It-it's the way with some fellahs. There was hith late Majesty, George the Fourth. I never thaw him mythelf, you know, but I've heard he had a sort of way with him that no woman could wesist. They used to call him a cam—what is it? a camelia -no, camel-leopard, no-chameleon, isn't it? that attwacts people with its eyes-no, by the way that-that's the bwute that changes color-it couldn't have been that you know,Georgius Wex-never changed color,-he-he'd got beyond blushing, he had-he only blushed once-early-vewy early in life, and then it was by mistake-no, cam-chameleon's not the word. What the dooth is it? O, stop,-it begins with a B. By the way, it's 'stonishing how many words begin with a B. O, an awful lot! No-no wonder Dr. Watts talked about the-the busy B. Why, he's more work than all the west of the alphabet. However, the word begins with a B, and its Bas- Basiloose-yes, that's it-stop, I'd better look it out in the dictionary to make certain. I--I hate to make mistakes-I do-especially about a thimple matter like this. O, here we are—B. Basilica. No, it-that can't be the word you know-George was king, and if—if Basilica means a royal palace-they-they might have been-welations-but that's all—no, it isn't Basilica-it-it's Basilisk-yes, I've got it now-it's Bathilith. That's what his Majesty was-a Bathilith, and fascinated fair cweachaws with his eye. Let me see-where was I? O, I rekomember-or weckolect--which is it? Never mind, I was saying that I was a ladies' man. I wanted to tell you of one successful advenchaw I had,— at least, when I say successful, I mean it would have been as far as I was concerned,--but, of course, when two people are engaged--or wather-when one of 'em wants to be engaged, one fellah by himthelf can't engage that he'll engage affections that are otherwise engaged. By the way, what a lot of 'gages that was in one thentence, and yet-it seems quite fruitless. Come, that's pwetty smart, that is-for me. Well, as I was saying,-I mean, as I meant to have said,when I was stopping down at Wockingham, with the Widleys, last autumn, there was a mons'ous jolly girl staying there too. I don't mean two girls you know-only-only one girl- But stop a minute,—is that right? How could one girl be stopping there two? What doosid queer expressions there are in the English language!... Stopping there too! It's vewy odd I-I'll swear there was only one girl,—at least, the one that I mean was only one-if she'd been two, of course, I should have known it-let me see now, one is singular, and two is plural,—well, you know, she was a singular girl-and she-she was one too many for me. Ah, I see now, that accounts for it,-one two many--of course--I knew there was a two somewhere. She had a vewy queer name, Miss-miss-Missmiss, no not Miss Missmiss--I always miss the wrong I mean the right name,-Miss Chaffingham,— that's it, Charlotte Chaffingham. I weckomember Charlotte, because they called her Lotty,-and one day at bweakfast-I made a stunning widdle--I said-" Why is Miss Charlotte like a London cabman?" Well, none of them could guess it. They twied and twied, and at last my brother Tham, -he gave a most stupid anther,--he said, “I know," he said, —“ She's like a London cabman because she's got a fair back.” Did you ever hear anything so widiculous? Just as if her face wasn't much pwettier than her back! Why, I could see that, for I was sitting opposite her. It's twue Tham was just behind her, offering some muffins, but-you know he'd seen her face, and he weally ought to have known better. I told him so,-I said, "Tham, you ought to be athamed of yourthelf, that 'th not the anther!" 66 |