SONG OF THE ECHO.-DEAN SWIFT.

1. NEVER sleeping, still awake,
Pleasing most when most I speak :
The delight of old and young,
Though I speak without a tongue.
Nought but one thing can confound me,
Many voices joining round me;
Then I fret, and rave, and gabble
Like the laborers of Babel.

2. Now I am a dog, or cow,
I can bark, or I can low:
I can bleat, or I can sing
Like the warblers of the spring.
Let the love-sick bard complain,
And I mourn the cruel pain;
Let the happy swain rejoice,
And I join my helping voice;
Both are welcome, grief or joy,
I with either sport and toy.

3. Though a lady, I am stout,

Drums and trumpets bring me out;
Then I clash and roar, and rattle,
Join in all the din of battle.

Jove, with all his loudest thunder,

When I'm vexed, can't keep me under;

Yet so tender is my ear,

That the lowest voice I fear;

Much I dread the courtier's fate,

When his merit's out of date;

For I hate a silent breath,

And a whisper is my death.

A GOOD BEE-HIVE-J. H. JEWELL.

1. Be sober and Be vigilant,

Your hopes will then increase,
Be drunken and neglectful,
Your prospects will decrease;
Be charity your motto, and

The poor will bless your name,
Be careful ne'er to leave a blot,
To hurt your future fame.

2. Be wise in all your words and works,
You cannot then Be vain,
Be always scrupulous to touch
Where vice hath left a stain;
Be thankful and Be satisfied,
What'er your lot in life,

And Be assured your days will then
Be ever free from strife.

3. Be careful, if a quarrel rise,
With either friend or foe,
Be watchful-never give offense,
Be sure ne'er strike a blow.
Be calm-Be patient-use mild words,
It will all wrath appease;
Such conduct cannot sure do less,

Than set the mind at ease.

4. Be tranquil under sickness for
Our minds should all Be calm;
Be sure affliction's chastening hand,
But proves to us a balm.

Be cheerful, though your bitter cup

.

Of sorrows overflow;

And Be prepared when you are called,

To leave this vale of woe.

WHAT IS A COTTAGE WITHOUT BEES?-WILSON.

are

1. WHAT is a Cottage in the country, unless "your banks all furnished with bees, whose murmurs invite one to sleep?" There the hives stand like four-and-twenty fiddlers all in a row. Not a more harmless insect in all this world than a bee. Wasps are demons incarnate, but bees are fleshy sprites, as amiable as industrious.

2. You are strolling along, in delightful vacuity, looking at a poem of Barry Cornwall's, when smack comes an infuriated honey-maker against your eyelid, and plunges into you the fourth part of an inch of sting saturated in venom. The wretch clings to your lid like a burr, and it feels as if he had a million claws to hold him on while he is darting his weapon into your eyeball. Your banks are indeed well furnished with bees, but their murmurs do not invite you to sleep; on the contrary, away you fly like a madman, bolt into your wife's room and roar out for the recipe.

3. The whole of one side of your face is most absurdly swollen, while the other is in its natural state. One eye is dwindled away to almost nothing, and is peering forth from its rainbow-colored envelope, while the other is open as day to melting charity, and shining over a cheek of the purest crimson.

SUGGESTIONS.

1. FENCES Operate in two ways—if good they are a defense if poor, an offense.

Many a farmer, by too sparingly seeding his new meadows, has had to cede his whole farm.

Every farmer should see daily every animal he has, and inspect its condition. Weekly visits as with some soon result in weakly animals.

The man who provides well-sheltered cotes for his sheep in winter, will soon find plenty of coats for his own back.

2. A good housewife should not be a person of one idea, but should be equally familiar with the flower garden and flour barrel; and though her lesson should be to lessen expense, yet the scent of a fine rose should not be less valued than the cent in the till. If her husband is a skillful sower of grain, she is equally skillful as a sewer of garments; he keeps his hoes bright by use; she keeps the hose of the whole family in order.

3.

From beer to bier the drunkard goes:

How sad is his estate!

To think, that she who airs his clothes,
Must, also, heir his fate.

JOHANN, THE BASKET-MAKER.

1. JOHANN, the merry basket maker,
Learn'd many songs, and paid his baker.
From sunrise until day declined,
He sang with free and cheerful mind.
Right well he sang: his voice so good
Resounded through the neighborhood.
He held himself, with voice and wages,
Far happier than the seven sages:
Than many learned ones who seem
Themselves e'en as the eighth t' esteem.

2. Not far from Johann lived a cit
Of large estates but little wit,
Who daily like a prince would dine,
And, stiffly pompous sip his wine.
Relations had he aunts, and cousins,
And nieces-whom he fed by dozens;
They came whene'er he choose t' invite,
And wasted, feasting, half the night.

3. He'd scarcely settled him to sleep
When early dawn began to peep,
And rest and quiet fled away,
For Johann sang at break of day.
"Confound the bawling silence-breaker!
Plague take ye, noisy basket-maker!
Ne'er will ye cease? Oh, would that I
Could sleep, like oysters, nightly buy!"

;

4. At last he chanc'd the singer meet,
And beckon'd him across the street.
"My hearty friend, Johann," he said,
"How goes it with you-how is trade?
Your wares are praised by all, I hear
What do they bring you in a year?"
"A year, dear me! I cannot tell
To what amount my profits swell.
I keep no count: each day provides
For all that in the day betides.
All through the year, so may I thrive,
Of times three hundred sixty-five."
"True, Johann, true; but can't you say
What is your profit in a day?"
"Dear Sir, you question very sore;
'Tis sometimes little, sometimes more-
Just as it comes, in many ways.
My only grief's the holidays.

5. Well pleased, to him the rich man said,
"Cheer up, Johann, your fortune's made.
All that you say may do for ninnies;
But here I'll give you fifty guineas,
If you in future cease your singing.
Far better to set gold a-ringing."

He stammer'd thanks, look'd shy, and then,
In sudden fear, sneak'd home again.