And thin he on the morra

At the wake would kill sorra,

Make the keeners fall laughin'

As they crooned round the coffin,

And 'twas not tili he 'd left could the wailin' begin again.

He grew older and grizzled,

But his beard sure was frizzled

With strong manhood's full vigor;

He grew stouter in figure,

But niver a wan of us thought him waiker or older.
For his swate laughter mellow

Made him seem a young fellow

When sivinty years' labor

With his crony and neighbor

He was wearin' with honor on the head on his shoulder.

I am thinkin' his lotions

And his yarbs, pills, and potions

Counted less in successes

In his cures of distresses

Than the force of the great, manly, warm bubblin' heart of

him,

For his mirth drove aich ailment

From its place of consalement,

Enablin' him to mate it

In the daylight to trate it,

And 'twas sorra the sickness that e 'er got the start of him.

He was found in his carriage,
Goin' home from a marriage,

Ninety years from the mornin'

That had witnessed his bornin',

And the smile was still playin' on his faytures unwrinkled,

And ochone! there was sorra

In that region the morra,

Whin his old neighbors crowded

Round his loved form white-shrouded.

But he only smiled swater as the water was sprinkled.

Father Briardy mintioned

That pure grief well-intintioned

Sure might follow a mortal

Who had passed through the portal,

But that weepin' and wailin' had no charm for the sleeper. So our tears they were inded,

Or with tinder smiles blinded,

And all smiling we followed

Where his grave they had hollowed,

And we flowered his coffin and left him with the Keeper.

To this day in Killarney,

'Tis the highest of blarney

Just to hint that a human,

Be it man, be it woman,

Do be like in the least to good Doctor O'Finnigan;
For his name brings thoughts tinder,
While the smiles the tears hinder,

And the hearts that be sorrowin',

From his glad mim'ry borrowin'

Courage, arise from despair life's battle to win again.

-HENRY A. VAN FREDENBERG,

I

A Discovery in Biology

THINK I know what Cupid is:

BACTERIA AMORIS;

And when he's fairly at his work,

He causes DOLOR CORDIS.
So, if you'd like, for this disease,
A remedy specific,
Prepare an antitoxine, please,

By methods scientific.
Inoculate another heart

With germs of this affection,
Apply this culture to your own,
'Twill heal you to perfection.

-MARY E. LEVERETT.

The Doctor's Story

1.

OOD folks ever will have their way—
Good folks ever for it must pay.

But we, who are here and everywhere, The burden of their faults must bear.

We must shoulder others' shame-
Fight their follies and take their blame;

Purge the body, and humor the mind;
Doctor the eyes when the soul is blind;

Build the column of health erect

On the quicksands of neglect:

Always shouldering others' shame-
Bearing their faults and taking the blame!

II.

Deacon Rogers, he came to me

"Wife is agoin' to die," said he.

"Doctors great, an' doctors small, Haven't improved her any at all.

"Physic and blister, powders and pills, And nothing sure but the doctors' bills!

"Twenty women, with remedies new, Bother my wife the whole day through;

"Sweet as honey, or bitter as gall—

Poor old woman, she takes 'em all.

Sour or sweet, whatever they choose;

Poor old woman, she daren't refuse.

44

So she pleases whoe 'er may call,

An' Death is suited the best of all.

"Physic and blister, powder an' pill— Bound to conquer, and sure to kill!"'

III.

Mrs. Rogers lay in her bed,

Bandaged and blistered from foot to head.

Blistered and bandaged from head to toe, Mrs. Rogers was very low.

Bottle and saucer, spoon and cup,
On the table stood bravely up;

Physics of high and low degree;
Calomel, catnip, boneset tea;

Everything a body could bear,
Excepting light, and water, and air.

I opened the blinds; the day was bright,
And God gave Mrs. Rogers some light.

IV.

I opened the window; the day was fair,
And God gave Mrs. Rogers some air.

Bottles and blister, powders and pills,
Catnip, boneset, sirups, and squills;

Drugs and medicines, high and low,
I threw them as far as I could throw.

"What are you doing?" my patient cried; Frightening Death," I coolly replied.