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To steal-oh! flinty-hearted sparks,

Worse than to little fish are sharks (Alas! to tell it my Muse winces),To steal—his apples, pears, and quinces. Put them where'er he would, alike their dooms; His efforts proved as fruitless as his rooms. As a pert dunghill cock, inflamed with ire, Erects his feathers and his comb of fire, When of some grains, his own by right, He's robbed by foes that take to flight,

So stood the Doctor:

With face as red

As coral bed,
His wig cocked forward in his eye,
As if it there the cause would spy.

Had his wife been there,

I do declare
It would have shocked her.

After long buffeting in mental storm,
His brain's thermometer fell from hot to warm:
At many plans by turns he grapples,
To save his quinces, pears, and apples:
When luckily, into his noddle
Hie recollection chanced to toddle.
This sage informant told poor Larrup,
If he'd convey his fruit so far up,
That on his house's top there stood,
A room, well floored, I think-with wood.
'Twas what some folks a loft would call;
The entrance through a trap-door small,
Fixed in the ceiling of his chamber,
To which he up a rope must clamber,
Unless a ladder was prepared,
And then the rope's-end might be spared;
But he'd a long, well-practised knack,
Of sparing neither rope nor back.

Ye who in proper titles glory,

Will think, I hope, as I have oft,

That, as this story's of a loft,

It should be called a “ Lofty Story." Well, Larrup, without more disputing, Fixed on this loft to put his fruit in;

And quickly had it thither moved,
How far securely, must be proved.

From one apartment so erected
That with the very trifling risk

Of dislocating neck or shoulder, Which boys ne'er think of in a frisk

(Nay, oft it makes the urchins bolder), Adventurous spirits might contrive To reach the Doctor's apple-hive. In this room rested four or five

Of these young pilferers, undetected. Whilst leaden sleep sat on the Doctor's 'shutters

(By shutters I would here imply,

The lids that shut light from the eye),
These daring rogues explored the tiles and gutters
In search of trap or casement-but alack!
They found not e'en a small, a gracious crack.
When one, 'gainst every disappointment proof,
Proposed that they should just-untile the roof;

At least, sufficent space to admit
A basket, in which one might sit;
And thus, by rope to handle tied,

Be lowered down with gentle ride.
This being approved of, 'twas decided
That 'gainst next night, should be provided

A basket and a rope;
Which being in due time effected,
A supercargo was selected,

Who, raised by hope,
Was gradually lowered through the hole,
From whence he sent up apples by the shoal.
This plan they often put in force
(Not oftener than they could, of course),
And when their pilfering job was ended,
The untiled roof they always mended.
The Doctor frequent visits made,
And soon perceived his apples strayed;
And oft upon the school-room floor,
Lay many a pear and apple core:
With grief he viewed these sad remains
Of what, to keep, he took such pains.
Despair now inade his heart its prey,-
When, entering the loft, one day,

His ears had pretty ample proof
The rogues were breaking through the roof.
He wisely, then, concealed himself,—
When lo! down came one little elf;
But he no sooner reach the ground did,
When at him, out the Doctor bounded,
And threatened, if he said a sentence,
He'd give him cause for years' repentance.
The boy stood mute as pewter pot,
While Larrup in the basket got;
When being seated snug and steady,
He made his prisoner cry, “All's ready.”
The boys above began to pull,
"Bless me! the basket's very full.”
“He's got a swinging lot this time.”
“And I'll be bound he's picked the prime.”

“To it again

With might and main,
Another haul will do the job.”

“Yo! yo ho!

Up we go!"

When lo! up popped the Doctor's nob! How they all looked I can't express, So leave that part for you to guess; But you, perhaps, may think it right To know the end of Larrup's flight. Well! when they'd drawn him to the top, Where he, most likely, wished to stop, The wicked rascals let the Doctor drop!

I AM DYING.
Raise my pillow, husband dearest,

Faint and fainter comes my breath,
And these shadows, stealing slowly,

Must, I know, be those of death.
Sit down close beside me, darling,

Let me clasp thy warm, strong hand,
Thine that ever has sustained me

To the borders of this land.
For thy God and mine-our Father-

Thence shall ever lead me on,

KK

Where upon a throne eternal

Sits his loved and only Son.
I've had visions, and been dreaming

O'er the past of joy and pain;
Year by year I've wandered backward,

Till I was a child again,-
Dreams of childhood, and the moment

When I stood thy wife and bride-
How my heart thrilled with love's triumph

In that hour of woman's pride!
Dreams of thee and all the earth cords

Firmly twined about my heartOh, the bitter, burning anguish,

When first I knew that we must part!
It has passed, and God has promised

All thy footsteps to attend;
He that's more than friend or brother,

He'll be with thee to the end.
There's no shadow o'er the portal

Leading to my heavenly home, Christ has promised life immortal,

And 'tis he that bids me come.
When life's trials wait around thee,

And its chilling billows swell,
Thou’lt thank Heaven that I'm spared them,

Thou wilt ieel that "all is well."
Bring our boys unto my bedside;

My last blessing let them keep-
But they're sleeping, do not wake them,

They'll learn soon enough to weep.
Tell them often of their mother,

Kiss them for me when they wake; Lead them gently in life's pathway,

Love them doubly for my sake. Clasp my hand still closer, darling,

This, the last night of my life, For to-morrow I shall never

Answer when thou call'st me “wife.” Fare thee well, my noble husband;

Faint not 'neath the chastening rod; Throw your strong arms round our children,

Keep them close to thee-and God!

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ANSWER TO “I AM DYING.-Rev. Wm. LAURIE

Dearest wife, I've raised thy pillow,

And I watch thy failing breath;
O’er my heart fall deep, dark shadows

As I gaze on thee, and death.
At thy side I'm seated, darling,

And I feel thy feeble grasp
As, in anguish, I release thee

From my trembling, loving clasp.
I, too, dream of that bright moment

When thou stoodst my bride and wife;
Then thy blessedness I'd purchase,

Had it cost me e'en my life.
From that dream here's a rude waking,

Crushing down both mind and heart;
Must I learn this painful lesson?

Here and now, oh, must we part!
Soon my sorrows will not reach thee;

Thou'lt be far beyond their power-
With the God in whom thou trusteth,-

Ere time marks another hour.
That thy future's bright and blessed

Is a daily joy to me;
It will lighten every sorrow,

To know is not shared by thee.
Round thy bed our boys are gathered,

And with me they stand and weep;
A last blessing give unto them,

That they evermore may keep.
In our hearts thou’lt live forever,

On our lips thou’lt daily be,
Till we too shall cross the river,

And with thee our Savior see.
I shall gaze upon our children,

Night by night when thou art gone;
No one else is left to love them,

I must guide them all alone.
Night and day from harm I'll shield them,

And love's vigils I shall keep;
Gently through life will I lead them

Until by thy side I sleep.

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