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SNEEZING.

AFTER TAKING A PINCH OP SNUTF.

What a moment, what a doubt!
All my nose is inside out,—
All my thrilling, tickling caustic,
Pyramid rhinocerostic,

Wants to sneeze and cannot do it!
How it yearns me, thrills me, stings me,
How with rapturous torment fills me!

Now says, Sneeze, you fool,—get through it."
Shee—shee—oh! 'tis most del-ishi—
Ishi—ishi—most del-ishi!
(Hang it, I shall sneeze till spring!)
Snuff is a delicious thing.

COLUMBIA.—Timothy Dwiqht.

Columbia, Columbia to glory arise,

The queen of the world, and the child of the skies!

Thy genius commands thee; with rapture behold,

Wfiile ages on ages thy splendors unfold.

Thy reign is the last and the noblest of time;

Most fruitful thy soil, most inviting thy clime;

Let the crimes of the east ne'er encrimson thy name;

Be freedom and science and virtue thy fume.

To conquest and slaughter let Europe aspire;
Whelm nations in blood, and wrap cities in fire;
Thy heroes the rights of mankind shall defend,
And triumph pursue them, and glory attend.
A world is thy realm; for a world be thy laws;
Enlarged as thine empire, and just as thy cause;
On freedom's broad basis that empire shall rise,
Extend with the main and dissolve with the skies.

Fair science her gates to thy sons shall unbar,
And the east see thy morn hide the beams of her star
New bards and new sages unrivaled shall soar
To fame unextinguished when time is no more;
To thee, the last refuge of virtue designed,
Shall fly from all nations the best of mankind;
Here, grateful to Heaven, with transport shall bring
Their mcense, more fragrant than odors of spring.

Nor less shall thv fair ones to glory ascend,
And genius and beauty in harmony blend;
The graces of form shall awake pure desire,
And the charms of tiie soul ever cherish the fir*:

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Their sweetness uniningled, their manners refined,
And virtue's bright image enstamped on the mind,
With peace and soft rapture shall teach life to glow,
And light up a smile on the aspect of woe.

Thy fleets to all regions thy power shall display,
The nations admire and the ocean obey;
Each shore to thy glory its tribute unfold,
And the east and the south yield their spices and gold.
As the day-spring unbounded thy splendor shall flow,
And earth's little kingdoms before thee shall bow,
While the ensigns of Union, in triumph unfurled,
Hush the tumult of war, and give peace to the world.

Thus, as down a lone valley, with cedars o'erspread,
From war's dread confusion I pensively strayed,—
The gloom from the face of fair heaven retired,
The winds ceased to murmur, the thunders expired,
Perfumes as of Eden flowed sweetly along,
And a voice, as of angels, enchantingly sung:
"Columbia, Columbia, to glory arise,
The queen of the world, and the child of the skies."

THE SONG OF 1876.—Bayard Taylor.

Waken, voice of the land's devotion!

Spirit of freedom, awaken all!
Ring, ye shores, to the song of ocean,

Rivers answer and mountains call!
The golden day has come;
Let every tongue be dumb
That sounded its malice or murmured its fears;

She hath won her story,

She wears her glory;
We crown her the land of a hundred years!

Out of darkness and toil and danger

Into the light of victory's day.
Help to the weak and home to the stranger,

Freedom to all, she hath held her way.
Now Europe's orphans rest
Upon her mother-breast;
The voices of nations are beard in the cheers

That shall cast upon her

New love and honor,
And crown her the queen of a hundred years i

North and South, we are mot as brothers;

East and West, we are wedded as one!

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Right of each shall secure our mother's;
Child of each is her faithful sou!
We give thee heart and hand,
Our glorious native land,
For battle has tried thee and time endears;
We will write thy story,
And keep thy glory
As pure as of old for a thousand years I

THE DAWN OF THE CENTENNIAL.

Mrs. S. L. Orerholtzer.

The dawn of peace is breaking I breaking! See the lights and hear the heralds of the century to be! While the whole united people, with a bending heart and knee,

Crave a blessing of the Father, and thank Him that they are free.

The dawn of peace is breaking! breaking!

The nation unto joy is waking! Note the throbbings of its full heart as they daily stronger grow;

Forgotten are the old discomforts, and the petty feuds I know Vanish, as we group together of our proudest life-blood flow. The dawn of peace is breaking! breaking!

The nation unto joy is waking! A joy that will be pure, absorbing, untempered by the grief That comes with victories of war, and brings of sorrow with relief.

A great outhurst of gladness, a country's fully ripened sheaf. The dawn of peace is breaking f breaking!

The nation unto joy is waking! Its first hundred years are passing, and to celebrate its birth We extend free invitation all about the lovely earth, That our friends in lavish numbers sit at our Centennial hearth.

The dawn of peace is breaking! breaking!

The dawn of peace is breaking! breaking! See the lights and hear the heralds of the century to be! While the whole united people, with a bending heart and

knee,

Crave a blessing of the Father, and thank Him that they are free.

The dawn of peace is breaking! breaking! .

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UNCLE REUBEN'S BAPTISM.

He is an industrious colored man, living in a small cabin down the river; and his wife is a corpulent, good-natured woman, but very deaf.

Some weeks ago, Reuben began to ponder. He had never been a bad darkey; but he had never embraced Christianity, much to the sorrow of Aunt Susan, his wife, who has been prepared for heaven, lo, these many years past. The more he pondered, the more he became convinced that he ought to become a Christian; and Aunt Susan encouraged him with tender words and tearful eyes.

The old man came to town several days ago to see about joining a church, and was informed that he would have to be baptized before he could become a member. He didn't relish the idea much ; but he informed his wife that he would consent; and she clasped her hands, and replied,—

"Glory to Richmond! De angels am a-comin'!"

Uncle Reuben got the idea, the other day, that he'd like to try the water alone, before being publicly baptized; and while his wife was getting breakfast ready, he slipped down to the river-bank to take a preparatory dip. He removed his coat, hat, and boots, placed them on a log; and as he descended the bank, his broad feet slipped, and the convert came down on the back of his neck.

"What de debbil!"—he commenced, as he picked himself up; but suddenly remembering that he was soon to join the church, he checked himself, and remarked,—

"I'm ashamed of dat; and I hope de angels will 'scuse me."

He put one foot into the water, and drew back with a shiver; put in the other, and looked longingly toward the house. \t that moment Aunt Susan began singing,—

"We's gwine up to glory:
We's gwine on de cars.

And old Reuben braced up, and entered the water.

"Yes; we's gwine up to glory!" he remarked as he waded along,— " gwine on de fast express."

At the next step, his foot struck a sunken log: and he pitched over it, under water, head first. As soon as he came to the surface, and blew the water from his mouth, he yelled,—

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"Woosh! What in blazes is dis yere performance?"

In raising up, his foot slid over the log, and under a limb, in snob a manner, that the old darkey was caught fast. He could hang to a stub of a limb, but he could not put himself forward enough to slip his foot out of the trap.

"Whar de angels now?" he yelled out, as he kicked the water higher than his head.

Aunt Susan answered with,—

"De angels are a-comin':
I hear de music play."

When the old man realized that he was fast, and must have help from the shore, he yelled out,— "Ho, dare, old woman! Hi!"

She couldn't have heard a cannon fire on the bank of the river, and went on singing,—

"Dare's a seat for me in heaven:
I's gwine to jine de band."

"Hi, dare! I'll jine your old black head off, if ye don't hear me!" yelled old Reuben.

He struggled and kicked, got his head under water, and out, and yelled,—

"Cuss dat old woman! Why don't she hear me?"

"Uncle Reuben's a-gwine
To be an angel sho',"

came the song.

"It' a lie, a big debbil lie!" he yelled, pulling his head under water again.

"And he'll fly among de angels,

And play upon a harp,"

tontinued the old woman, as she turned over the bacon.

"Hi, dare! woosh, whoop!" he yelled, floundering around, pulling at his leg.

"De Lawd has got his name,
And dare is a place for him!"

howled the old woman.
"Whoa, dare, you old black villum!" yelled Uncle Reuben.

"Dey'll dress him up in white,
Wid a crown upon his brow,"

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