Lickity, lickity, switch, we came to the ford, and Chiquita

Buckled right down to her work, and afore I could

yell to her rider,

Took water jest at the ford, and there was the Jedge and me standing,

And twelve hundred dollars of hoss-flesh afloat, and a driftin' to thunder!

Would ye b'lieve it, that night, that hoss,- that ar' filly, Chiquita,

Walked herself into her stall, and stood there all quiet and dripping!

Clean as a beaver or rat, with nary a buckle of

harness,

Just as she swam the Fork, that hoss, that ar' filly, Chiquita.

That's what I call a hoss! and-what did you

say? O, the nevey?

"Make haste! make haste!" says guzzling Jimmy, While Jack pulled out his snickersnee.

Billy went up to the main-top-gallant mast,
And down he fell on his bended knee,
He scarce had come to the Twelfth Commandment
When up he jumps-"There's land I see !"
"Jerusalem and Madagascar

And North and South Amerikee,
There's the British flag a riding at anchor,
With Admiral Napier, K. C. B."

So when they got aboard of the Admiral's,
He hanged fat Jack and flogged Jimmee,
But as for little Bill he made him
The Captain of a Seventy-three.

WILLIAM MAKEPEACE THACKERAY.

Air," BOW, wow, wow."

FRANCIS BRET HARTE.

LITTLE BILLEE.

THERE were three sailors of Bristol City
Who took a boat and went to sea,
But first with beef and captain's biscuits
And pickled pork they loaded she.

There was gorging Jack, and guzzling Jimmy,
And the youngest he was little Billee;
Now when they'd got as far as the Equator
They'd nothing left but one split pea.

Says gorging Jack to guzzling Jimmy, "I am extremely hungaree." To gorging Jack says guzzling Jimmy, "We've nothing left, us must eat we."

Says gorging Jack to guzzling Jimmy,

"With one another we should n't agree! There's little Bill, he 's young and tender, We're old and tough, so let's eat he."

"O Billy! we're going to kill and eat you,
So undo the button of your chemie."
When Bill received this information,
He used his pocket-handkerchie.

"First let me say my catechism

Which my poor mother taught to me."

has its full,

-

clean as any barber, sir,

the harbor, sir.

With his Marshall cloak around him.

"The Doctor's as drunk as the d-," we said, And we managed a shutter to borrow; We raised him, and sighed at the thought that his head

Would "consumedly ache" on the morrow.

We bore him home, and we put him to bed,
And we told his wife and his daughter
To give him, next morning, a couple of red
Herrings, with soda-water.

Loudly they talked of his money that 's gone,
And his Lady began to upbraid him;
But little he recked, so they let him snore on
'Neath the counterpane just as we laid him.

We tucked him in, and had hardly done

When, beneath the window calling, We heard the rough voice of a son of a gun Of a watchman "One o'clock !" bawling.

Slowly and sadly we all walked down

From his room in the uppermost story; A rushlight we placed on the cold hearthstone, And we left him alone in his glory!

RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM (THOMAS INGOLDSBY)

PERILS OF THE PAVE.

JUMPING Over gutters,

Wading through the flood, Ploughing through the slush, Tumbling in the mud, Squatting in the puddles, Bless me! this is nice, Slopping through the water, Slipping on the ice.

Men of every class,

In such falling weather, Find it very easy, Tumbling down together. Pillars of the church, Servants of the devil, Here they very quickly

Find a common level.

Very sharp young fellow Makes a perfect flat, Rusty, fusty bachelor Tumbles on his hat.

Are sent by a wise creation,
And always ought to be underwent
By patience and resignation.

O, I could to your bedside fly,

And wipe your weeping eyes,
And do my best to cure you up,
If 't would n't create surprise.
It's a world of trouble we tarry in,
But, Elder, don't despair;
That you may soon be movin' again
Is constantly my prayer.

Both sick and well, you may depend
You'll never be forgot

By your faithful and affectionate friend,
PRISCILLA POOL BEDOTT.
FRANCES MIRIAM WHITCHER.

DEBORAH LEE.

PARODY.

"T is a dozen or so of years ago,

Somewhere in the West countree,

That a nice girl lived, as ye Hoosiers know

By the name of Deborah Lee;

Our love was as strong as a six-horse team,
Or the love of folks older than we,
Or possibly wiser than we;

But death, with the aid of doctor and steam,
Was rather too many for me;

He closed the peepers and silenced the breath
Of my sweetheart Deborah Lee,
And her form lies cold in the prairie mould,
Silent and cold, -ah me!

The foot of the hunter shall press her grave,
And the prairie's sweet wild flowers
In their odorous beauty around it wave
Through all the sunny hours,

Gineral C. he goes in fer the war ;*

He don't vally principle more 'n an old cud ; Wut did God make us raytional creeturs fer, But glory an' gunpowder, plunder an' blood? So John P. Robinson he

Sez he shall vote fer Gineral C.

We were gittin' on nicely up here to our village, With good old idees o' wut's right an' wut aint, We kind o' thought Christ went agin war an' pillage,

An' thet eppyletts worn't the best mark of a saint;

But John P.

Robinson he

Sez this kind o' thing's an exploded idee.

• Written at the time of the Mexican war, which was strongly opposed by the Anti-Slavery party as being unnecessary and wrong.