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Blow out your candles—thus—and thus,
Pocket your silver candlesticks,

And walk off-thus-
So said—so done—he made no more remark,

Nor waited for replies,

But marched off with his prize,
Leaving the gouty merchant in the dark.

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With fear o'erwhelmed, the victim stands
Anticipates the dread commands

From the elbow chair,
Where justice sits in solemn state,

With brow austere.

“ Rogue! what excuse hast thou for waste For to old Gilbert Fitz Maurice,

Thou knew'st full well,
The sheep within that fold belonged--

Come, quickly tell.

Confess thy crime ; 'twill naught avail
To say, the mark above the tail

Thou didst not heed ;
For G. F. M., in letters large,

Thou plain mightst read.”

“ 'Tis true, I did," the thief replies,
“ But man is not at all times wise ;

As I'm a glutton,
I really thought that G. F. M.

Meant-Good, Fat, Mution !"



The wind one morning sprung up from sleep, Saying “ Now for a frolic! now for a leap! Now for a mad-cap galloping chase! I'll make a commotion in every place !” So it swept with a bustle right through a great town, Creaking the signs, and scattering down Shutters; and whisking with merciless squalls, Old women's bonnets and gingerbread stalls; There never was heard a much lustier shout, As the apples and oranges tumbled about ; And the urchins, that stand with their thievish eyes For ever on watch, ran off each with a prize. Then away to the field it went blustering and humming And the cattle all wondered whatever was coming ; It plucked by their tails the grave matronly cows, And tossed the colts' manes all about their brows, Till, offended at such a familiar salute, They all turned their backs and stood silently mute. So on it went, capering and playing its pranks, Whistling with reeds on the broad river's banks ; Pufling the birds as they sat on the spray, Or the traveler grave on the king's highway, It was not too nice to bustle the bags Of the beggar, and flutter hie dirty rags :

'Twas so bold, that it feared not to play its joke
With the doctor's wig, and the gentleman's cloak.
Through the forest it roared, and cried gaily, “ Now,
You sturdy old oaks, I'll make you bow !"
And it made them bow without more ado,
And cracked their great branches through and through.
Then it rushed like a monster on cottage and farm,
Striking their dwellers with sudden alarm,
And they ran out like bees in a midsummer swarm.
There were dames with their kerchiefs tied over their caps,
To see if their pouliry were free from mishaps.
The turkies they gobhied, the geese screamed aloud,
And the hens crept to roost in a terrified crowd:
There was rearing of ladders, and logs laying on,
Where the thatch from the roof threatened soon to be gone.
But the wind had passed on, and had met in a lane
With a schoolboy who panted and struggled in vain :
For it tossed him, and twirled him, then passed, and he stood
With his hat in a pool, and his shoe in the mud.

15. SHORT ANSWERS.-Anonymous.

A modern philosopher, full of inflation,

Had strolled to the valley below;
And thus to himself he began an oration :
“I'll humble the priest and enlighten the nation,
I'll cover the blockheads with scorn and confusion,
And prove that religion is only delusion,

The world shall the hypocrites know.”
So strong and emphatic had been his conclusion,

That echo returned it with—“Oh!"

Then he turned himself round at the strange interjection,

His wit and his courage to show:
“ Who are you,” said he, “ that dare make a reflection,
Or treat with contempt such a noble conception ?
Come forth to the champion of nature and reason;
Your folly l'il prove, and fanatical treason,

Or crush you at once with a blow !”
Then echo said nothing but-“ Boh!"

6 Do you think I'm a fool,” said the man, in a passion,

Or goose, to be scared by a crow?

Are the writings of deists of learning and fasnion
All made on a sudden but rubbish and trash on ;
Sha!! Voltaire tlie willy, and Gibbon the mighty,
With deep David Hume, and Tom Paine the sprightly

All fall by religion, their soe ?"
Then echo made answer with—“So!"

“Impertinent babbler! who values the notion,

But those who are artful or low?
The parson who makes a good trade of devotion
And ilarters the great for the sake of promotion,
Or the poor simple soul on the eve of distraction,
Who yields up his mind to be swayed by a faction,

And sinks into foliy and wo ?”.
But echo directly said "No!"

* 'Tis enough to provoke one to cross the equator,

My knowledge far off to bestow;
Where sages dwell in a state of pure nature,
Nor trouble their heads about soul or Creator;
Where, free from the dogmas of old superstition,
Philosophy, reason, and right have admission,

And truth shall with liberty grow.”
Then echo said nothing bul—“Go"


Who has e'er been in London, that overgrown place,
Has seen, "lodgings to let," stare him full in the face.
Some are good and let dearly ; while some 'tis well known
Are so dear, and so bad, they are best let alone.-

Will Waddle, whose temper was studious and lonely,
Hired lodgings that took single gentlemen only ;
But Will was su fat, he appeared like a lun,
Or like iwo single gentlemen rolled into one.

He entered his rooms, and to bed he retreated;
But, all the night long, he felt levered and heated ;
Aul, though heavy w wciy!, as a score of fat sheep,
He was not, by any means, heavy to sleep.
Next night 'twas the sanie !--and the next! and the nex,
He perspired like an ox; he was nervous, and vexed.

Week after week, till by weekly succession,
His weakly condition was past all expression.

In six months his acquaintance began much to doubt him;
For his skin “like a lady's loose gown,” hung about him.
He sent for a doctor, and cried, like a ninny,
" I've lost many pounds—make me well—there's a guinea."

The doctor looked wise :-"a slow fever," he said ;
Prescribed sudorifics,-and going to bed.
“ Sudorifics in bed,” exclaimed Will, “ are humbugs!
I've enough of them there, without paying for drugs !"
Will kicked out the doctor :—but when ill indeed,
E'en dismissing the doctor don't always succeed;
So, calling his host-he said—“Sir, do you know,
I'm the fat single gentleman, six months ago ?

Look ye, landlord, I think,” argued Will with a grin,
“ That with honest intentions you first took me in:
But from the first night-and to say it I'm bold-
I've been so very hot, that I'm sure I caught cold !"

Quoth the landlord,“ Till now, I ne'er had a dispute
I've let lodgings ten years, I'm a baker to boot ;
In airing your sheets, sir, my wife is no sloven;
And your bed is immediately-over my oven.”
“ The oven!!!"-says Will;-says the host, “Why this pas

sion ? In that excellent bed died three people of fashion. Why so crusty, good sir ?”—“ Zounds !" cried Will in a taking “ Who would not be crusty, with half a year's baking ?" “ Will paid for his rooms ;"—cried the host with a sneer, “ Well, I see you've been going away half a year." “ Friend, we can't well agree ;-yet no quarrel,”-..Will said : " But I'd rather not perish, while you make your bread."


So goes the world ; if wealthy, you may call
This friend, that brother, friends and brothers all;

Though you are worthless-witless---De ver mind it;

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