Poor Tim roared aloud: "Why, what have I done? And exclaimed, "O my preciouses dear, you hain't there! Go, Twinkleton, go, telegraph like wildfire!" "Why," said Tim, "they can't send the twins home on the wire!" "Oh dear!" cried poor Tim, getting ready to go; Were after him, quick, on his way to the station. "Ah! ha! I have got yer, now don't say a word, It was to effect, that the squalling began Had been placed by Tim T., who solemnly swore Tim grasped up the basket and ran for dear life, And when he reached home he first asked for his wife; The twins are now grown, and they time and again MAN MAY BE HAPPY.-PETER PINDAR. "Man may be happy, if he will:" Know then, each mortal is an actual Jove: But here's the mischief-man's an ass, I say; That spreads a smile o'er hill and plain! Dark, he must court the skull, and spade, and shroud-The mistress of his soul must be a cloud. Who told him that he must be cursed on earth? Heaven whispered him, the moment of his birth, In colors let thy soul be dressed, not crape. "Roses shall smooth life's journey, and adorn; Yet some there are, of men, I think the worst, As though life's pleasure were a deadly sin; To catch their happiness by the legs. Even at a dinner some will be unblessed, A cart-load, lo! their stomachs steel, THE STAB.-WILL WALLACE HARNEY. On the road, the lonely road, There was a step, timed with his own, A figure that stooped and bowed: A cold white blade that flashed and shone, But the moon came out so broad and good Then roughed his feathers in drowsy mood; SONG OF STEAM.-GEORGE W. CUTTER. Harness me down with your iron bands, Be sure of your curb and rein, For I scorn the strength of your puny hands How I laughed as I lay concealed from sight, At the childish boast of human might, And the pride of human power. When I saw an army upon the land, Creeping along, a snail-like band, Or waiting the wayward breeze,- When I marked the peasant faintly reel As he feebly turned the tardy wheel, When I measured the panting courser's speed, The flight of the carrier dove, As they bore the law a king decreed, I could but think how the world would feel, When I should be bound to the rushing keel, Ha, ha, ha! They found me at last, And I rushed to my throne with a thunder blast, The ocean pales where'er I sweep, I carry the wealth and the lord of earth, The wind lags after my going forth, The lightning is left behind. In the darksome depths of the fathomless mine, My tireless arm doth play; Where the rocks never saw the sun decline, Or the dawn of a glorious day; I bring earth's glittering jewels up From the hidden caves below, And I make the fountain's granite cup I blow the bellows, I forge the steel, I hammer the ore and turn the wheel I manage the furnace, the mill, the mint,- And all my doings I put into print I've no muscle to weary, no brains to decay, And soon I intend you may "go and play," But harness me down with your iron bands, For I scorn the strength of your puny hands THE DOUBLE BED. A new Western town, but lately reclaimed from the wilderness, where the houses are few, mean, and ugly, the streets mud or dust, the trees destroyed, and the general appearance one of poverty struggling with heavy obstacles, where the wolves run the mail in ahead of time, and night is made hideous by a tailor practising on a flute-this is a good place to keep away from. Into such a town as this, and during court week, I once rode on horseback, at the end of a weary day; passed into a continuous mud hole, studded with stumps and ornamented with logs, that a benighted country called a road. Night had already closed in, and I was guided to the hotel by the thousand and one boys of the place, and the noise issuing from the bar-room, no less beastly and disagreeable. I found the landlord shut up in a corner pen, dealing out liquid insanity to his customers. To my request for supper and a bed he responded that I could eat my fill, but there was not a bed unengaged or not occupied in the house. I persisted, until the wretch informed me that there was "a feller" in No. 6 occupying a double bed, and I could "roll in there," if so minded. It was dismal, but my only hope; so after the evening indigestion, I climbed the rough stairs to No. 6. I was told by the landlord to walk in without knocking, and did so. I found my companion measuring off his dreams by snores, and, undressing, "rolled in," as the landlord had suggested. The stranger turned over, with something between a growl and a grunt, as I crept to his side. Tired as I was, I could not sleep. The bed-tick felt as if it were stuffed with grasshoppers, and the pillows were of the sort to slip up one's nose in the night, and be sneezed out some time during the day. Besides this, my bedfellow snored abominably. It sounded like a giant trying to blow "Old Hundred" through a tin horn, without knowing exactly how. I bore this infliction as long as I could, and at last gave my friend a dig in the ribs, exclaiming at the same |