11. With fingers weary and worn, In poverty, hunger, and dirt; And still, with a voice of dolorous pitch- EXERCISES IN EMPHASIS. 1. A woman sat in unwomanly rags. Thomas Hood. 2. It's oh! to be slave, along with the barbarous Turk. 3. It is not linen you're wearing out. 4. O God! that bread should be so dear, and flesh and blood so cheap! 5. Work-work-work-as prisoners work for crime! 6. A little weeping would ease my heart. LVI-VEGETABLE RANK. THE HE matter of vegetable rank has not been Why do we respect some vegetables and despise others, when all of them come to an equal honor or ignominy on the table? The bean is a graceful, confiding, engaging vine; but you never can put beans into poetry, nor into the highest sort of prose. There is no dignity in the bean. Corn, which in my garden grows alongside the bean, and, so far as I can see, with no affectation of superiority, is, however, the child of song. It waves in all literature. But mix it with beans, and its high tone is gone. Succotash is vulgar. It is the bean in it. The bean is a vulgar vegetable, without culture, or any flavor of high society among vegetables. 2. Then there is the cool cucumber, like so many people-good for nothing when it is ripe, and the wildness has gone out of it. How inferior in quality it is to the melon, which grows upon a similar vine; is of a like watery consistency, but is not half so valuable! The cucumber is a sort of low comedian in a company where the melon is a minor gentleman. I might also contrast the celery with the potato. The associations are as opposite as the dining-room of the duchess and the cabin of the peasant. I admire the potato, both in vine and in blossom; but it is not aristocratic. 3. The lettuce is to me a most interesting study. Lettuce is like conversation: it must be fresh and crisp; so sparkling that you scarcely notice the bitter in it. Lettuce, like most talkers, is, however, apt to run rapidly to seed. Blessed is that sort which comes to a head, and so remains, like a few people I know-growing more solid, and satisfactory, and tender at the same time, and whiter at the center, and crisp in their maturity. Lettuce, like conversation, requires a good deal of oil, to avoid friction and keep the company smooth-a pinch of Attic salt, a dash of pepper, a quantity of mustard and vinegar, by all means, but so mixed that you will notice no sharp contrasts, and a trifle of sugar. 4. You can put any thing-and the more things the better-into salad, as into a conversation, but every thing depends upon the skill of mixing. I feel that I am in the best society when I am with lettuce. It is in the select circle of vegetables. The tomato appears well on the table; but you do not want to ask its origin. It is a most agreeable parvenu. Of course, I have said nothing about the berries. They live in another and more ideal region, except, perhaps, the currant. Here we see that, even among berries, there are degrees of breeding. The currant is well enough, clear as truth, and exquisite in color; but I ask you to notice how far it is from the exclusive hauteur of the aristocratic strawberry, and the native refinement of the quietly elegant raspberry. Charles Dudley Warner. EXERCISES IN ARTICULATION. 1. Why do we respect some vegetables and despise others? 2. You never can put beans into poetry, nor into the highest sort of prose. 3. There is no dignity in the bean. 4. Lettuce is like conversation: it must be fresh and crisp. 5. You can put any thing—and the more things the better-into salad. 6. Even among berries, there are degrees of breeding. LVII.--THE JESTER CONDEMNED. NE of the kings of Scanderoon, ΟΝΕ A royal jester, Had in his train, a gross buffoon, Who used to pester The court with tricks inopportune, 2. It needs some sense to play the fool; Which wholesome rule Occurred not to our jackanapes, Who consequently found his freaks And quite as many kicks and tweaks, 3. Some sin, at last, beyond all measure, Of his serene and raging highness: Or had intruded on the shyness An epigram at royalty, None knows:-his sin was an occult one; Meaning to terrify the knave, Exclaimed: ""Tis time to stop that breath; That of my own free grace and will, 4. "Thy royal will be done-'t is just," Replied the wretch, and kissed the dust; Your majesty's humane decree Horace Smith. IT LVIII. THE PARISH STOCKS. T was moss-grown; it was worm-eaten; it was broken right in the middle; through its four socketless eyes, neighbored by the nettle, peered the thistle the thistle-a forest of thistles!-and to complete the degradation of the whole, those thistles had attracted the donkey of an itinerant tinker; and the irreverent animal was in the very act of taking his luncheon out of the eyes and jaws of the parish stocks. 2. 'Squire Haseldean looked as though he could have beaten the parson; but as he was not without some slight command of temper, and a substitute was luckily at hand, he gulped down his resentment and made a rush at the donkey. 3. Now, the donkey was hampered by a rope to his forefeet, to the which was attached a billet of wood, called technically "a clog," so that it had no fair chance of escape from the assault its sacrilegious luncheon had justly provoked. But, the animal turning round with unusual nimbleness at the first stroke of the cane, the 'squire caught his foot in the rope, and went head over heels among the thistles. 4. The donkey gravely bent down, and thrice smelt or sniffed its prostrate foe; then, having convinced itself that it had nothing further to apprehend for the present, and very willing to make the best of the reprieve, according to the poetical admonition, "Gather your rosebuds while you may," it cropped a thistle in full bloom, close to the ear of the 'squire— so close, indeed, that the parson thought the ear was gone; and with the more probability, inasmuch as the 'squire, feeling the warm breath of the creature, |