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So I just got into a nice litle doze, when in came I never was so mortified in all my life — never! my mother;
ZEDEKIAH.-You sent them off, I should think, with And " for shame, Peter," she said, “ to be a-bed now! a famous swither!
well, you can't go with your brother!" PETER.—Grunting and tumbling one over the other, Then oui of the door she went, without another word; I cared not whither. And just then a sound of wheels, and of pawing Well, as I was just then standing, grieving over the horses' hoofs I heard ;
ruin, So I jumped up to the window to see what it was, I heard Thomas call, “ Master Peter, come and see and I declare
what the rats have been doing There was a grand party of fine folks setting off They've eaten all the guinea-pigs' heads off?" somewhere:
ZEDEKAH.—Oh, Peter, was it true? There was my brother, mounted on the pony so sleek PETER.-Away I ran, not knowing what in the world and brown;
to do! And Bell in her white frock, and my mother in her And there — I declare it makes me quite shudder to satin gown;
the bone And my father in his best, and two gentlemen beside ; Lay all my pretty little guinea-pigs as dead as a stone! And I had never heard a word about it, either of drive “It's no manner of use," says Thomas,“ setting trape; or ride!
for you see I really think it was very queer of them to set off in They no more care for a trap, than I do for a pea;
I'll lay my life on't, there are twenty rats now down If I'd only known over-night, I'd have been up by in that hole, break of day!
And we can no more reach 'em, than an underAs you may think, I was sadly vexed, but I did not ground mole!" choose to show it,
I declare, Zedekiah, I never passed such a day be So I whistled as I came down stairs, that the servants fore – not l; might not know it;
It makes me quite low-spirited, till I'm ready to cry. Then I went into the yard, and called the dog by his All those pretty guinea-pigs! and I've nothing left name,
at all, For I thought if they were gone, he and I might have Only the hawk, and I've just set his cage on the wall. a good game;
ZEDEKIAH.—Hush! hush, now! for Thomas is saying But I called and called, and there was no dog either something there, in this place or th' other;
PETER.– What d'ye say, Thomas ? And Thomas said, “ Master Peter, Neptune's gone Thomas. — The hawk's soaring in the air! The with your brother."
cage-door was open, and he's flown clean away! Well, as there was no dog, I went to look for the fox, PETER.-There now, Zedekiah, is it not an unfortu. And sure enough the chain was broke, and there nate day? was no creature in the box;
I've lost all my favourites—I've nothing left at all, But where the fellow was gone nobody could say, And my garden is spoiled, and I've had such a He had broken loose himself, I suppose, and so had dreadful fall! slipped away ;
I wish I had been up this morning as early as the sun, I would give anything I have but to find the fox And then I should have gone to Canonley, nor bare again
had all this mischief done! And was it not provoking, Zedekiah, to lose him just I'm sure it 's quite enough to make me cry for a yearthen ?
Let's go into the house, Zedekiah ; what 's the use ZEDEKIAH. — Provoking enough! Well, Peter, and of sitting here?
what happened next? PETER.—Why, when I think of it now, it makes me
quite vexed; I went into the garden, just to look about
THE YOUNG MOURNER. To see, if the green peas were ready, or the scarletlychnis come out;
LEAVING her sports, in pensive tone, And there, what should I clap my eyes on but the
"T was thus a fair young mourner said, old sow,
“ How sad we are now we're alone, And seven little pigs, making a pretty row!
I wish my mother were not dead! And of all places in the world, as if for very epite,
“I can remember she was fair; They had gone into my garden, and spoiled and
And how she kindly looked and smiled, ruined it quite !
When she would fondly stroke my hair, The old sow, she had grubbed up my rosemary and
And call me her beloved child. old-man by the root, And my phlox and my sunflowers, and my hollyhocks, “ Before my mother went away, that were as black as soot;
You never sighed as now you do ; And every flower that I set store on was ruined for You used to join us at our play, ever;
And be our merriest playmate too.
“ Father, I can remember when
And the grey pony that can dance so well ;
And then there is the wee, wee man,
Though scarcely bigger than a lady's fan;
And crowds of people staring in amaze, " And the next morn they did not speak,
And thronging twenty different ways,
And pushing you against the wall,
Till you can scarcely keep your legs at all.
Well, unto this same fair,
A famous dancing bear,
And several monkeys on his back he bore ;
But with the monkeys we have nought to do –
The bear alone concerns our story.
Now as night's curtain had begun to drop,
And they had travelled far,
The master of the bear resolved to stop, "I wish my mother had not died,
Just where the town lay stretching out before ye, We never have been glad since then ; Until the morning, at the Golden Star; They say, and is it true," she cried,
So, without more ado,
Into a little shed,
And housed, as they thought, for the night.
Bruin, however, did not like his quarters,
And, without asking if the thing were right,
Or sisting an important business through, "Remember your dear mother still,
As reasonable people do,
Walked out; nor did mine hostess, nor her daughters, Like her, be humble, free from ill,
Nor guest of any sort, behold him go.
By this time it was dark enough ;
That lay behind the Golden Star;
And there he wandered up and down
When thus it came to pass,
A baker from the town
Was carrying fagots for the morning; The event occurred of which I mean to speak ;
And he had not gone far To know what town that is, ye need not seek ;
Before he saw what he supposed an ass, No further information shall I give.
In the dusk night-fall, shaggy, wild, and black; In this town is an annual fair,
So, without any warning, Such as, I will be bound to say,
He threw the fagots on his back, May not be met with everywhere.
Thinking it was a lucky chance Then all the people look extremely gay,
To meet with such a beast !
Bruin, thus taken by surprise,
And growl, and stare with fiery eyes.
The man, who never in the least Full of all sorts of pretty things,
Expected such a spirited retort,
Stopped for a moment short;
Upon his back would make a sudden spring,
Poor Bruin had no such intent, Filled with sweet cakes and ginger-bread and crum. But on he went, pets ;
Down to a neighbouring lane, And then there is the learned pig,
Picking his way as best he could.And the great Mister Bigg,"
But in my second part, I will explain The famous English Patagonian;
The nature of the place whereon he stood.
All this poor bruin heard,
The baker being awakened by this din,
While Jack, to notice all these things was able,
Unto the house they came, and pulled down, first,
Each held a lighted candle; and, en masse,
THE SOLDIER'S STORY.
* HEAVEN bless the boys !" the old man said,
“I hear their distant drumming Young Arthur Bruce is at their head,
And down the street they 're coming. " And a very noble standard too
He carries in the van;
Is born to make a man!"
A tear came to his eye;
Cried he, as they came nigh. " It seems to me but yesterday
Since I was one like ye,
Come here, and talk with me!"
Before the aged man;
Young Arthur Bruce began;
“ And if you 'd hear a story wild,
Of war and battle done,
And you shall now have one. “ In every quarter of the globe
I've fought — by sea, by land ; And scarce for five and fifty years
Was the musket from my hand. “ But the bloodiest wars, and fiercest too,
That were waged on any shore, Were those in which my strength was spent,
In the country of Mysore. “ And oh! what a fearful, deadly clime
Is that of the Indian land, Where the burning sun shines fiercely down
On the hot and fiery sand ! “The life of man seems little worth,
And his arm hath little power His very soul within him dies,
As dies a bruken flower. " Yet spite of this, was India made
As for a kingly throne; There gold is plentiful as dust,
As sand the diamond stone ; “And like a temple is each house,
Silk-curtained from the sun ; Anıl every man has twenty slaves,
Who at his bidding run. “ He rides on the lordly elephant,
In solemn pomp ;-and there They hunt the gold-striped tiger,
As here they hunt the hare. " Yet it is a dreadful clime! and we
Up in the country far Were sent,
we were two thousand men, In a disastrous war. “The soldiers died in the companies
As if the plague had been ; And soon in every twenty men,
The dead were seventeen. “We went to storm a fort of mud
And yet the place was strong – Three thousand men were guarding it,
And they had kept it long.
Feeble and worn and wan;
Was every living man.
With the ensign of his band, Reminds me of a gallant youth,
Who fought at my right hand.
And feeble as the rest,
“Of battle and of victory
Tell us some stirring thing!" The old man raised his arm aloft,
And cried, "God save the king !
“A soldier 's is a life of fame,
A life that hath its meed They write his wars in printed books, That every man may read.
Not a care hath Marien Lee,
Like the summer-billows wild
“But a silent grief was in his eye,
And oft his noble frame
And his colour went and came. • He marched by my eide for seven days,
Most patient of our band ; And night and day he ever kept
Our standard in his hand.
Before that sort of mud;
Were as a marsh with blood. “We watched that young man,-he to us
Was as a kindling hope ;
Bearing the standard up.
A ball had struck his hand,
Without a moment's stand.
He waved the standard high, But then another emote him
And the captain standing by “Said, “Of this gallant youth take care,
He hath won for us the day!
And bore him thence away.
So 'neath the fortress shade We carried him, and carefully
Upon the red sand laid.
To fan his burning cheek;
And prayed that he would speak. " At length he said, 'mine hour is come!
My soldier-name is bright;
That hath wrung me day and night : “I left my mother's home without
Her blessing ;—she doth mourn, Doth weep for me with bitter tears,
I never can return ! ** This bowed my eagle-spirit down,
This robbed mine eye of rest; I left her widowed and alone
Oh that I had been blessed!" “No more he said.-he closed his eyes,
And yet he died not then; He lived till the morrow morning came,
But he never spoke again." This tale the veteran soldier told,
Upon a summer's day ;The boys came merrily down the street,
But they all went sad away.
Marien, some are rich in gold,
THE CHILD'S LAMENT.
I like it not - this noisy street
I never liked, nor can I now — I love to seel the pleasant breeze On the free hills, and see the trees,
With birds upon the bough! Oh, I remember long ago,
So long ago, 'tis like a dream My home was on a green-hill side, By flowery mendows, still and wide,
'Mong trees, and by a stream.
Three happy brothers I had then,
My merry playmates every dayI've looked and looked through street and square, But never chanced I, anywhere, To see such boys as they.