3. Edgar did love, but was afraid
To make confession to the maid,
So bashful was the youth:
Certain to meet a kind return,
He let the flame in secret burn,
Till from his lips the maid should learn
Officially the truth.

4. At length, one morn, to take the air, The youth and maid, in one-horse chair, A long excursion took.

Edgar had nerved his bashful heart,
The sweet confession to impart,

For, ah! suspense had caused a smart,
He could no longer brook.

5. He drove, nor slackened once his reins, Till Hempstead's wide extended plains Seemed joined to skies above:

Nor house, nor tree, nor shrub was near,
The rude and dreary scene to cheer,
Nor soul within ten miles to hear-
And still poor Edgar's silly fear,
Forbade to speak of love.

6. At last, one desperate effort broke
The bashful spell, and Edgar spoke,
With most persuasive tone;
Recounted past attendance o'er,
And then, by all that's lovely, swore,
That he would love, forever more,
If she'd become his own.

7. The maid, in silence, heard his prayer, Then, with a most provoking air,

She tittered in his face;

And said, "T is time for you to know,
A lively girl must have a beau,

Just like a reticule-for show;
And at her nod to come, and go-
But he should know his place.

8. Your penetration must be dull,
To let a hope within your skull
Of matrimony spring.

Your wife! ha, ha! upon my word,
The thought is laughably absurd,
As any thing I ever heard-

I never dreamed of such a thing."

9. The lover sudden dropped his rein,
When on the center of the plain—

“The linch-pin 's out!" he cried;
"Be pleased one moment to alight,
Till I can set the matter right,
That we may safely ride."

10. He said, and handed out the fair

11.

Then laughing, cracked his whip in air,
And wheeling round his horse and chair,
Exclaimed, "Adieu, I leave you there
In solitude to roam."

"What mean you, sir!” the maiden cried,
"Did you invite me out to ride,

To leave me here, without a guide?

Nay, stop, and take me home."

"What! take you home!" exclaimed the beau, "Indeed, my dear, I'd like to know

How such a hopeless wish could grow,

Or in your bosom spring.

What! take Ellen home? ha! ha! upon my word,
The thought is laughably absurd,

As any thing I ever heard;

I never dreamed of such a thing!"

CCXVII. THE LOST PANTALOONS.

1 Ir chanced to be our washing day,
And all our things were drying,

The storm came roaming through the lines
And set them all a-flying;

I saw the shirts and petticoats

Go riding off like witches,

I lost-ah! bitterly I wept,

I lost my Sunday breeches.

2. I saw them straddling through the air, Alas! too late to win them,

1 saw them chase the clouds as if
The mischief had been in them.
They were my darlings and my pride,
My boyhood's only riches;
Farewell, farewell, I faintly cried,
My breeches, O, my breeches.

3. That night I saw them in my dreams,
How changed from what I knew them;
The dew had steeped their faded seams,
The wind had whistled through them;
I saw the wide and ghastly rents
Where demon claws had torn them:
A hole was in their hinder parts
As if an imp had worn them.

4. I have had many happy years
And tailors kind and clever;
But those young pantaloons have gone
Forever and forever;

And not till fate has cut the last

Of all my earthly stitches,

This aching heart shall cease to mourn
My loved-my long lost breeches.

CCXVIII.-STUMP SPEECH.

1. FELLOW CITIZENS:-I am, as you all know, a modest and unassuming man. I was born at an early period of my existence, in old Franklin County, and until I was nearly fourteen years of age, was entirely without parentage.

2. I had to struggle with obscurity, to which an unlucky star had confined me, until I was enabled to rise among my fellow citizens like a bright exaltation of the morning; but if it had not been for the goodness of several old ladies, who gave me an edication, I might have been as ignorant as common people, or, even as you, fellow citizens.

3. Friends and fellow citizens! although I do not feel exactly tantamount to equivalent to addressing you on the momentous questions now agitating this conflictuous community, yet I intend to speak my sentiments fearlessly, in

the course of my remarks upon what I shall allude to, while I am discoursing before you; and I now declare that the crisis which were to have arriven have arroven.

4. I tell you this question ought to be severed down upon the heads of the people. We want the blood and spirit of our ancestral progenitors, who were not afraid to run the gauntelope of public opinion.

5. The wheels of government are stopped; the majestic ship of state which, like a Shanghai rooster on a rickety hen coop, was floating calmly down the peaceful stream of time, is now fast drifting upon the rocks and quick sands of disunion, soon to be dashed into a thousand flinters, unless you jump into the rescue, and avoid the terrible calamity by electing me to Congress.

6. Fellow citizens! I entreat and beseech of you, hearken not to the siren voice that whispers in your credulous ears the delusive sounds of peace and harmony; for in our legislative halls, confusion, riot, and anarchy reign supreme. Then, arouse you; shake the dew drops from your hunting shirts; sound the tocsin; beat the drum, and blow the horn until the startled echoes, reverberating from hill top to hill top, shall cause the adamantine mountains of New England, the ferruginous soil of Missouri, and the auriferous particles of California to prick up their ears, and inquire of their neighbors, what can the matter be?

7. Fellow citizens; I repeat it. To your posts! and, from the topmost mountains of the Alleghanies bid defiance to the universal airth, by shouting our terrific watchword, Hail Columbia, in such thunder tones, that the enemies of our country shall be utterly scatterlophisticated before the morning sun reaches to the full zenith of his meridian hight.

CCXIX.-PARODY ON HAMLET'S SOLILOQUY.

To spout, or not to spout, that is the question;
Whether 't is better for a shame-faced fellow,
With voice unmusical and gesture awkward,
To stand a mere spectator in this business,
Or have a touch of rhetoric? To speak-to spout,
No more and by this effort, to say we end

That bashfulness, that nervous trepidation,

Displayed in maiden speeches-'t were a consummation
Devoutly to be wished. To read to speechify

Before folks-perhaps to fail!-ay, there's the rub;
For from that ill success what sneers may rise,
Ere we have scrambled through the sad oration,
Must give us pause. 'T is the same reason,
That makes a novice stand in hesitation,
And gladly hide his own diminished head
Beneath some half-fledged orator's importance,
When he himself might his quietus make

By a mere recitation. Who would speeches hear
Responded to, with hearty acclamation,
And yet restrain himself from holding forth,
But for the dread of some unlucky failure-
Some unforseen mistake-some frightful blunder—
Some vile pronunciation and inflection,
Improper emphasis or wry-necked period,
Which carping critics note and raise the laugh,
Not to our credit, nor so soon forgot?

We muse on this! Then starts the pithy question,
Had we not best be mute and hide our faults,
Than spout to publish them?

CCXX.-CHARGE OF A DUTCH MAGISTRATE.

peen

1 MR. FOREMAN and Toder Jurymens: - Hans dried for murder pefore you, and you must pring in te verdict; put it must pe 'cordin' to law.

2. De man he kill'd vash n't kill'd at all, as vas broved; he is in ter chail, at Morristown, for sheep stealing. Put dat ish no matter; te law says ven ter ish a doubt you give him to ter brisoner; put here ter ish no doubt, zo you see ter brisoner ish guilty.

3. Pesides, he ish a great loafer, I have known him fifty years, and he has not done any work in all dat times; and dere is no one depending upon him for dere living, for he ish no use to nopody.

4. I dinks, derfore, Mr. Foreman, he petter pe hung next Fourth of July, as der militia is going to drain in anoder county, and dere will be noting going on here.