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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 ;
I first observed her sunken eye,

And then there is the wee, wee man,
And her pale, hollow cheek; and then That in seven languages can read and spell,
I told my brother she would die!

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,
But led us to her silent bed;

And pushing you against the wall,
They bade us kiss her icy cheek,

Till you can scarcely keep your legs at all.
And told us she indeed was dead!
"Oh, then I thought how she was kind,

Well, unto this same fair,
My own beloved and gentle mother! There came, the night before,
And calling all I knew to mind,

A famous dancing bear,
I thought there ne'er was such another!

And several monkeys on his back he bore ;
Poor little Charles, and I! that day

But with the monkeys we have nought to do –

The bear alone concerns our story.
We sate within our silent room;
But we could neither read nor play,-

Now as night's curtain had begun to drop,
The very walls seemed full of gloom.

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,
« That she can never come again !", The bear was led

Into a little shed,
The father checked his tears, and thus
He spake, “ My child, they do not err,

And housed, as they thought, for the night.

Bruin, however, did not like his quarters,
Who say she cannot come to us ;

And, without asking if the thing were right,
But you and I may go to her.

Or sisting an important business through, "Remember your dear mother still,

As reasonable people do,
And the pure precepts she has given;

Walked out; nor did mine hostess, nor her daughters, Like her, be humble, free from ill,

Nor guest of any sort, behold him go.
And you shall see her face in heaven!"

By this time it was dark enough ;
And Bruin walked into a common rough,

That lay behind the Golden Star;
THE BEAR AND THE BAKERS.

And there he wandered up and down

When thus it came to pass,
A TRUE STORY.

A baker from the town
Is the old town in which I live,

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 !
And all the children have a holiday:

Bruin, thus taken by surprise,
Then there are cows, and sheep, and pigs to sell, Began to prance
And more than I can tell ;

And growl, and stare with fiery eyes.
And booths are ranged in rows,

The man, who never in the least Full of all sorts of pretty things,

Expected such a spirited retort,
Glass necklaces, and copper rings,

Stopped for a moment short;
And pins, and gloves, and bracelets, combs, and boxes; Then sprang along o'er smooth and rough,
And then there are such quantities of shows, Expecting that a thing
All crammed with lions, elephants, and foxes ! So wild and gruff
And for the liule people, dolls and balls,

Upon his back would make a sudden spring,
Horses and coaches, whips and penny trumpets : And eat him at a mouthful, sure enough!
And many different sorts of stalls,

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,
And much he marvelled at his case ;
Thus prisoned in that trap-like place ;
Yet so the baker scolded if he stirred;
And so much did he fear his master's stick,
Heavy and thick,
He dared not reconnoitre, nor look out,
Lest something worse should come about;
Therefore, he lay quite still,
Though it was very much against his will.
Jack was outside, a watchful sentinel,
He noted all that happened in the night:
He heard the asses braying on the common ;
He saw the earliest streak of morning light;
He heard the watchmen in the town,
With their dull voices passing up and down,
And the Exchange clock, with its heavy bell,
The hours with quarters tell :
He saw the earliest passing countrywoman;
And now a man, and now a boy he saw;
And now the morning grew so keen and raw,
He wished his task was o'er;
And now he heard the clocks strike four;
And now,-0 welcome sight,
He, in the Golden Star, beheld a light!

PART II.
"Twas on the confines of that common hoary,
Which, like a wall, stood up against the lane
Because the common was much higher ground -
So that the houses standing there,
Seemed at the back only one single story,
Though, in the front, they all of them were twain.
I'm very much afraid this will be found
An explanation rather dark and lame;
But as you read you 'll understand it better,
If you attend, at least, unto the letter.
But, let us now unto the bear :-
"T was to the back of such a house he came,
Built 'gainst this higher ground,
So that he found,
Without being in the least to blaine,
His nose against a window.grate
Which opened straight
Into a well-stored larder.
In this small house there dwelt another baker,
A famous man for penny pies :
Of cakes and ginger-bread, a noted maker,
And sausages likewise.
No wonder let it be, therefore,
That there was such a store
Of legs of mutton, dainty pork,
And pies just ready for the knife and fork.
These things just standing under bruin's nose,
You may suppose
Would make him long to have a little taste ;
So, through the grate,
Headlong he plunged - a lumbering weight -
And many jingling tins displaced.
Poor bruin never thought, not he,
The window was just at the ceiling,
And he should fall so far and heavily;
And after all, be taken up for stealing !

The baker being awakened by this din,
Blunder on blunder, tin on tin,
Thought twenty thieves were breaking in!
He was a tall and sturdy fellow,
And to his only son,
Most stoutly he began to bellow-
“ Jack, get the double-barrelled gun,
A host of thieves is in the pantry -
Twenty they are, or more ;
Do you go out and keep strict sentry,
And shoot the first who ventures out,
The while I guard the door!"
As soon as said, the thing was done,
Jack took the double-barrelled gun,
And stood before the broken grate :
“Ah, thieves !" said he, with lusty shout,
“If you come out,
I'll scatter twenty bullets round about !"
The bear, so frightened at this sad disaster,
And, thinking Jack must be his master,
Lay quite stock still :
Meanwhile, the baker stood before,
And double-locked the pantry-door.
“There, there!" said he, “I've got them fast,
I've caught the rogues at last!"

While Jack, to notice all these things was able,
His father made
A very decent sort of barricade,
Of chair and table;
So that the foe, if he had been inclined
To issue forth, might find
The thing impracticable.
This done, soon as the clock struck four,
The baker left his door;
But all so silently,
That the trapped enemy
Might still suppose him watching at his post,
As powerful as a host.
Down to the Golden Star in haste he ran,
And there he found them bustling all abont,
Fetching and carrying, mistress, maid, and man,
Though 't was so early, going in and out.
To them he told the adventures of the night,
And all were in a great affright;
And all indignant at the thieves' audacity:
“ Is it not wonderful ?" said they,
“But in the present day,
All men, even thieves, have an improved capacity."
This said, with sudden haste
They called up every guest,
Carter, and cattle-driver, groom and jockey,
And the bear's master, wild and black ;
Until the baker thought he was most lucky
To muster such a party at his back.

Unto the house they came, and pulled down, first,
The formidable barricade ;
And then they grew afraid,
Lest out the dreadful enemy should burst.
At length each heart grew bolder,
And o'er his neighbour's shoulder

Each held a lighted candle; and, en masse,
They rushed into the place where bruin was!
There, skulking in his shaggy coat, they saw
A frightful something with a paw!
“Up, up with you at once !"
Shouted poor bruin's master in his ears;
And he, who was no dunce,
And had so many fears,
And knew that voice so well,
Sprang in a moment to his hinder legs,
Just like a little dog that begs,
And danced a hornpipe to a miracle !
Half angry was the baker, seeing thus,
That after all his fuss,
The thieves were nothing but a dancing-bear!
And yet he took it in good part,
And tried to laugh with all his heart,
And said it was a joke most capital!
And through all the fair
T was told at every booth and every stall,
What fancy bruin had for dainty store ;
And many people gave him ginger-bread;
And he with buns and penny-pies was fed,
So that he never fared so well before !

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;
By the faith of an old soldier, he

Is born to make a man!"
A glow of pride passed o'er his cheek,

A tear came to his eye;
“ Hurra, hurra! my gallant men!"

Cried he, as they came nigh. " It seems to me but yesterday

Since I was one like ye,
And now my years are seventy-two,-

Come here, and talk with me!"
They made a halt, those merry boys,

Before the aged man;
And "tell us now some story wild,"

Young Arthur Bruce began;

“ And if you 'd hear a story wild,

Of war and battle done,
I am the man to tell such tales,

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.
“We were in all three hundred souls,

Feeble and worn and wan;
Like walking spectres of the tomb,

Was every living man.
“ Yet Arthur Bruce, now standing there,

With the ensign of his band, Reminds me of a gallant youth,

Who fought at my right hand.
“Scarce five and twenty years of age,

And feeble as the rest,
Yet with the bearing of a king,
That noble soul expressed.

“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.

MARIEN LEE.

Not a care hath Marien Lee,
Dwelling by the sounding sea!
Her young life's a flowery way -
Without toil from day to day,
Without bodings for the morrow,-
Marien was not made for sorrow!

Like the summer-billows wild
Leaps the happy-hearted child;
Sees her father's fishing boat,
O'er the waters gaily float ;
Hears her brother's fishing-song
On the light gale borne along;
Half a league she hears the lay,
Ere they turn into the bay,
And with glee, o'er cliff and main,
Sings an answer back again,
Which by man and boy is heard,
Like the carol of a bird.
Look! she sitteth laughing there,
Wreathing sea-weed in her hair,
Saw ye e'er a thing so fair ?

“But a silent grief was in his eye,

And oft his noble frame
Shook like a quivering aspen leaf,

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.
“They fought with us like tigers.

Before that sort of mud;
And all around the burning sands

Were as a marsh with blood. “We watched that young man,-he to us

Was as a kindling hope ;
We saw him pressing on and on,

Bearing the standard up.
" At length it for a moment veered -

A ball had struck his hand,
But he seized the banner with his left,

Without a moment's stand.
“He mounted upward to the wall;

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!
I and my comrades took him up,

And bore him thence away.
" There was no tree about the place,

So 'neath the fortress shade We carried him, and carefully

Upon the red sand laid.
“ I took the feather from my cop,

To fan his burning cheek;
I gave him water, drop by drop,

And prayed that he would speak. " At length he said, 'mine hour is come!

My soldier-name is bright;
But a pang there is within my soul,

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,
Heaped-up treasure-stores untold;
Some in thought sublime, refined,
And the glorious wealth of mind :
Thou, sweet child, lise's rose unblown,
Hast a treasure of thine own
Youth's most unalloyed delights ;
Happy days, and tranquil nights ;
Hast a brain with thought unvexed ;
A heart untroubled, unperplexed!
Go, thou sweet one, all day long,
Like a glad bird, pour thy song ;
And let thy young, graceful head,
Be with sea-flowers garlanded;
For all outward signs of glee,
Well befit thee, Marien Lee!

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.

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