Billeder på siden

and though the hour was late when they retired to rest, yet the sobs that ever and anon broke the silence of the night, indicated the absence of repose from the eyelids of the afflicted. We watched the corpse till morning, which was as calm and beautiful as the day previous had been tempestuous and terrible, and fitly represented the calm and glorious beauties of that eternal world to which the traveller, wearied with the storms and hurricanes of this world had

gone to dwell for ever.

“In the evening the corpse was interred, in one corner of the garden that lay before the house, in all the solemnity of silent, weeping woe, with the happy assurance of its participating in the resurrection of the just, when mortal shall put on immortality, and death be swallowed up in victory. On the following morning we left the disconsolate family, who would have gladly detained us, as grief finds always a partial relief in the sincere condolence even of strangers."


In these days, when the March of Intellect is making such rapid strides, it will excite but little surprise to find that cats have turned authors; with what success we leave our young readers to judge from the following correspondence. It was discovered in a wood-house in S and though doubtless never intended by the writers for the public eye, it affords such an interesting picture of their manners and habits, and gives us so favorable an opinion of their epistolary powers, that we have great pleasure in presenting our young friends with an exact copy of this filial correspondence :

[blocks in formation]


HOUGH kittens in these days do not often write

I cannot resist the temptation to-night To tell you, dear Tom, how I'm charmed with your

letter, Not Whittington's cat could have written a better;

That you are a kitten of genius is plan,
Since both reason and rhyme you produce from your

And your style is so fluent, your humor so sly,
I laughed till the tears trickled down from my eye;
So I hope soon again to the wood-house you'll creep,
When the rest of the world are all buried in sleep:
When the housekeeper Mary can't grudge you a pen,
And just send me your thoughts upon manners and


You may judge my surprise, when I heard that our

mother. Had presented us all with a new little brother. I hope, my dear Tom, though her son is no beauty, It will be your endeavor to teach him his duty, And especially press on his mind this great truth “That reverence for age is most lovely in youth.” By the by, I've a message to send to our mother, Respecting (pray what is his name ?) our young

brother; This house, ('tis a fact,) is infested with mice, And they not only eat up whatever is nice But so shamefully bold are these impudent vermin, They have actually eaten an excellent sermon;

And my

master declares though an orthodox mouse, He is not a fit guest for a clerical house. I must therefore entreat you will give no denial To my earnest request for our brother (on trial.) The case you'll allow is most seriously pressing; My labors indeed are most truly distressing. Were these orthodox nibbles confined but to one day, And for that day they'd choose not our regular Sun

day, We might not complain—but when each one agrees To desert his own food, candles, bacon, and cheese, 'Tis a sad dereliction from taste and good breeding, An utter mistake in the science of feeding; And I never could learn they behaved with decorum, When they had all this learning and wisdom before

But the sermon afforded for wit as much scandal
As if they'd been nibbling the end of a candle,
So I beg you will not lose a moment or minute
In sending a hamper, our dear brother in it.
I hope this will find you quite merry and hearty:
My compliments give to the rest of your party.




My dearest of brothers it grieves me to find
My silence to you has appeared so unkind;
Believe me, it's been from no want of affection,
But simply that I did not know your

your direction.
The letters you sent gave us all so much pleasure,
We hope to be favored again when you've leisure;
The first, so unlooked-for, delighted us all,
Our party assembled—I read in the Hall;
Our mother, so noted for good sense and learning,
Stroked down her long whiskers, and said it was

charming Both she and my brother quite laughed till they cried, And I, till I had a bad pain in my side. You have said that you hope I will teach our young

brother With other good things, much to rev’rence his mother, But.alas ! my dear friend, I am sorry to say I fear my good counsels are quite thrown away; For indeed it's a fact that I cannot deny, Or that you'll scarcely credit—if I were to try

« ForrigeFortsæt »