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tives. It were better to drink - say, iced lemonade, in which—for you, dear readerby some mistake a little sherry has been cobblered. Sherrare est humanum. The

Rabbis, we are told, forbade the children of Israel to puff the fire on the Sabbath with bellows, though they might keep it going by blowing through a straw. Wherefore, to this day, certain of the devout 'keep it a-going' by means of a straw-only by some strange mistake in interpretation, or by some vowel-points getting mislaid, they, instead of blowing from them in the straw, suck toward them. And their 'society' is a large

one.

But we were talking of 'good company,' as they say in 'good society'-not of 'good society,' as they say in 'good company.' And, therefore, although not 'a retired clergyman,' and devoutly hoping that my 'sands of life' are not by a very long while 'run out,' (for I want to see my future friends,) I would yet (without these advantages) offer you some slight relief,' and would seek to assuage your sufferings resulting from too much good company; and since we have so few friends in the past who have amused us, turn we our 'regards' to the possible

FRIENDS OF THE FUTURE.

First among whom is

BAGNOLE.

FACE such as would-be Byron youths all

crave,

Impenetrable, gloomy as the grave; Voice, a French-gray,' the promise of the face,

You'd swear he thought to laugh a deep disgrace.

Behold the mask of a bacchantine soul, Drinking deep draughts from life's enchanting bowl.

Cosmopolite-he cares not to demand
Whether the bowl be from Cellini's hand.
If rude, still crowning it with Fancy's flow-

ers,

Laughing at Time, and flirting with her
Hours.

He is not pious, and to church won't go ;
He says he can't-tis so extremely slow.'
Bagnole with the 'goats' you're set apart!
And yet, how can we wish a' change of heart'
In one like thee-great-minded, brave, and
true?

Ah! what a world, if all were such as you!
But I forget-he's tender to the weak:
To the sad Magdalene he'll kindly speak

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But when she speaks, her diamond-wit's so table were missing, we all knew where they

bright,

All other beauties vanish from our sight.
No need for her to fear the world's rebuff!
Too much of Marie's always just enough!
She is bad company,' yet e'en 'the good'
Can find no flaw in her fair maidenhood.
The saints don't doubt that she is in their
fold-

It makes me laugh to think how they are
'sold.'

went to; in fact, that vivarium, from the
time green peas came until cabbages were
ripe, resembled a soupe à la Jardinière, and
in summer-time a second course of boiled
fish might easily have been found there.

One evening, when I had a little company,
and while Fanny Schell was singing an aria,
he caused her to conclude with an unusually
high scream, by announcing at the top of

Nice, naughty folks are sure she's of their his voice, while he pointed to the vivarium :

creed,

Yet she's no hypocrite, in word or deed.
What is she, then-this gem without a flaw?
She is she is a maid-en made of 'straw'!

READER, have you in your house a vicarium or aquarium, or any other variety of animal curiosity - shop, under care of the younger members? If so, the subjoined sketch may awaken in your mind more than one vivid souvenir. We know, at all events, that some of its 'features' were founded on facts; that is, if a 'feature' can be 'founded.' However, we take the phrase from- but no, we are sufficiently abused by the Democratic editors, as it is.

EDITOR OF THE CONTINENTAL: Among the lesser joys of maternity, that of having your children interested in a vivarium is one of the least in fact, it is an elephantine

sorrow.

James, my eldest son, is a genius; before he was twelve years old, he invented a rattrap, which not only caught rats, but cut off their tails and let them go. At thirteen, he spoke Italian so fluently that he caused a hand-organ grinder to throw a brick at him. At fourteen, he came home one day with six large panes of glass, some tin and putty, and made a vivarium, a thing full of mud, water, leeches, dirty weeds, and other improvements.

'Ma, the leeches have all crawled out!' Imagine the feelings my little company had the rest of the evening.

I shall never forget the fright James gave
me one hot night in July; it was Saturday,
I remember well, for that was one of my
son's holidays, and he returned home toward
night unusually covered with mud, from a

long walk in the country, evidently having
been taking practical lessons in ditching.
He was so very quiet after he returned, that
I might have known he was in mischief.
However, when his bed-time came, he kissed
me good-night, and said:

'O ma! I have such a surprise for you
in the morning.'

Unfortunately, I had the surprise that night. Business called my husband away from the city that morning, and I was alone. Waking up from a sound sleep about midnight, I distinctly heard somebody working on an anvil, like a blacksmith, 'ching-a-ling! ching-a-ling!' It evidently came from the drawing-room, and my fears at once told me it was a thief trying to break into the house. Next I heard some one whistle, like a man calling a dog, 'wheh! wheh! wheh!' Finally a dog barking, 'woo, woo, wooh!' Thoroughly alarmed, I sprang to the front window, and called: 'Police! thieves!' until I managed to arouse the neighbors. I had the key of the front-door in my chamber; this I threw down to a police officer, and in company with two others he boldly entered the house, lit the gas, and found - that vivarium full of bullfrogs!

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When James had finished his glass case, he placed it in the front drawing-room window, so that the public might behold that exquisite process of nature, tadpoles turning into spring water-chickens, as they call My son banished the frogs and introduced frogs on hotel bill of fares. Unfortunately, cat-fish, (or, as they call them in Boston, the gold fish he put in with them killed the 'horn-pouts.') One night, my great Angora tadpoles while they still wiggled, and a pick- cat, a cat born in the Rue de Seine, educated erel that he had bought of a fellow-school- in the best French École des chattes, and boy for half-price, its tail being ragged, ate brought to this country by my husband, fell up the gold-fish. a victim to la gourmandise, by falling into If at any time vegetables bought for the the vivarium while fishing for cat-horn

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THOUGH SO often trampled down by the heel of patriotism, the old serpent of treason and disunion still keeps lifting his head and hissing venomously. In New-York, Fernando Wood - that incarnation of Northern secession- the man who dared to issue a proclamation recommending the inhabitants of the city of which he was mayor to go off with the South, is plotting and planning (unpunished, of course) with spirits of kindred baseness, to build up the old order and reëstablish the rule of corruption. At Washington, all the timid, time-serving, and place-hoping members of Congress have been holding 'Conservative' meetings, at which the most insolent or timid propositions have been put forth; some of the traitors manifesting clear as day their undisguised sympathy for the rebels, others speaking only to preserve their tattered characters as Unionists. The upshot of all was given in a resolution that Congress has no power to deprive a person of his property, unless that person has been duly convicted by a trial by jury.

We are not through the war as yet. Possibly, ere the end come, the country may have something to say as to the propriety of our representatives holding meetings to protect and favor rebels in their 'rights.'

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'ALWRIGHT, I say.'

'All wrong, you mean. 'Spect you'll make it all right in the morning, hey?'

'AL-WRIGHT!' cried the purchaser.

'Yes, all right!' cried the crowd, taking the joke. All right-go ahead, old knock 'em down.'

The auctioneer began to be profane.
'A-L, Al,' began Alwright.

'Hold your tongue! Go- -' continued the auctioneer.

'A-L Al, W-R-I-G-H-T wright,' continued the buyer.

'O―h, thunder!' exclaimed Hammer, on whom the laughter of the mob began to ope'That's it, is it! Beg pardon. James, rate. put this gentleman's name down. All right, Gentlemen, allow me to sir. Go ahead. call your attention to this fine lot of leather. Did I hear twenty-five ?-five-five-fivean' a ha'f, an' a ha'f, an' a ha'f-gone!' Yours truly,

CONSTANT READER.

There is often some fun at auctions. One of the queerest ever reported to us was held in a French-Spanish be-Germanized village on the frontier, where business was transacted in something of a polyglott manner, as follows:

'Gentlemen-Messieurs-Senores y meine Herrne, I've got here for sale-a vender-a

vendre zum verkaufen eine Schöne Büchse a first-rate rifle un fusil sans pareil, muy hermosa! Do I hear fifty pesos, cinquante Thaler ge-bid pour this here bully gun? Caballeros mira como es aplatado-all silvered up, in tip-top style-c'est de l'argent fin messieurs-s'ist alles von gutem Silber, Gott verdammich wenn's nicht echt is. Cinquante piastres, fünfzig, fünfzig, fifty do I hear, and

a half an' a half an' a half e un demi piastre un d'mi un d'mi ein halb' und ein halb' und ein halb' un medio y un medio - wer sagt six shillins, six escalins, six escalins, seis reales, sechs schillin!? For this beautiful gun, good for Injuns, deer, bar, buffalo, or to kill one another with-madre Dios! bueno por matar los Americanos - first-rate to kill a Greaser-womit Sie alles was nicht Deutsch ist zu todten. Fifty-one dollars, thanky sir-cinquante deux - Merci, Monsieur ! Wer sagt drei und fünfzig - ich glaube dass ein Deutscher bekommt's noch am Ende. Go it, Yankee, Dutch is a-gainin' on ye! and a half an' a half e trois quar' r' r'an' three quarters und drei Viertel y tres quartos-quelqu'un a dit fifty-three fifty-four-going, going, gone, sir-at fiftyfour- America ahead and Frenchy secondbest.'

It would take some time, we should think, to be able to reel it off in such a quadruple thread.

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Wide yawn the timbers,

Wild waters rush in, As the ship settles fast

Mid the fierce battle-din : Yet her guns hurl defiance,

As, stern to the last, The sea sucks her in With her flag on the mast. Sons of the Northman, Whose banner of old Spread the shadow of terror From each grisly fold, Of his broad heritage Worthy are ye:

Win it and wear it well,

Kings of the sea.

THE next Norse' is longer. We find in it a brave ring of true poetry :

1861.

'Oh! dark and true and tender is the North.'
LOUD leaps the strong wind forth,
Fierce from the caves of the mighty North,
Ages untold,

O'er town and wold,
That rest 'neath a softer sky,
Swept that blast in anger by,
And in his wrathful eddies bore
The fiery song of Odin and Thor.
Then little avail,

'Gainst the Vi-king's arm,
The maiden's tear, the warrior's mail,
Or the priestman's charm.

And o'er the bright South-land

A shadow of dread was the North wind's

course,

Whene'er his surging currents fanned
The raven banner of the Norse.

Years pass, and time new rays has brought,
Yet still the Northman's heart is warm;
But light on his soul a change has wrought,
And he loves the calm as he loved the

storm.

Another god than the fearful Thor

In heaven's blue he saw,

And he gave to Peace his might in war-
His anger to the law.

And the strong hand holds the sickle now,
The anvil rings at morn,

And waving sunbeams tinge with gold

The hues of the ripening corn.

And the land he loves in peace has grown
To be mighty in wealth and name;
But o'er its brightness a cloud has flown,
And evil men to its councils came.
And all seemed locked in a deadly sleep,
While treason walked in her halls of state,
And good men grieve, but hopeless weep,
And the song of the scoffer is loud at the
gate.

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BY J. IVES PEASE.

That stays the hand—that throbs the heart; Yes, pay them! pay them in their chosen Cleaving the gloom, that wild war-note

The traitor's foot is on your flag,
His bayonet at our throat.

And hark! the North-wind's sullen moan
Rises high to a sterner tone,

That sinks away, then bursts anew
In joy, as 'mid its surges grew

The shout, the stroke, the cannon's peal,
The tread of countless number.

For the flash of a traitor's steel

Has broken the nation's slumber; And sighing breeze and southern gale, Seized by the fierce wind's grasp, are torn From gentle haunt by hill or dale,

And in the whirling vortex borne.
There murm'ring on his hollow breast,
And wond'ring at his wild unrest,
Their shrieking echoes sounding far,
Loud swelled the Northman's shout to war;
For with death's dark shadows flitting by,
And the day as dark as night,

A nation's hands are raised on high
To hold their ancient right.

And the ages are rolled from the record of

time;

For the years of peace with its soft'ning beam,

That soothed in love the Northman's heart,

Are now but the mists of a warrior's dream. And the tinsel of life is burned in the glow That flames in his heart as in years long ago, When Norman sea-kings swept the wave, Who loved the night, the storm, and bloody

grave.

And through all the blue of heaven's vault, Rolls the Vala's mystic charm, Swelled with strains of the mighty pastVictory strikes with the Northman's arm. F. TRULY the old Northman is not dead among us. He lived in the iron Monitor, of the descendant of Eric, and he lives in scores of thousands of brave

coin,

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