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THE OLD CLOCK.

BY JAMES NACK.

Two Yankee wags, one summer day, Stopped at a tavern on their way; Supped, frolicked, late retired to rest, And woke to breakfast on the best.

The breakfast over, Tom and Will,
Sent for the landlord and the bill;

Will looked it over; "Very right

But hold! what wonder meets my sight?

Tom! the surprise is quite a shock!"

"What wonder? where?"-"The clock! the

clock!"

Tom and the landlord in amaze

Stared at the clock with stupid gaze,
And for a moment neither spoke;
At last the landlord silence broke:

"You mean the clock that's ticking there? I see no wonder, I declare; Though may be, if the truth were told, "Tis rather ugly-somewhat old; Yet time it keeps to half a minute, But, if you please, what wonder's in it?"

"Tom, don't you recollect," said Will, "The clock at Jersey near the mill, The very image of this present, With which I won the wager pleasant?" Will ended with a knowing wink

Tom scratched his head, and tried to think. "Sir, begging pardon for inquiring," The landlord said, with grin admiring, "What wager was it?"

"You remember

It happened, Tom, in last December, In sport I bet a Jersey Blue

That it was more than he could do,

1826.

To make his finger go and come
In keeping with the pendulum,
Repeating, till one hour should close,
Still here she goes-and there she goes
He lost the bet in half a minute."

"Well, if I would, the deuce is in it!"
Exclaimed the landlord; "try me yet,
And fifty dollars be the bet."
"Agreed, but we will play some trick
To make you of the bargain sick!"
"I'm up to that!"

"Don't make us wait;
Begin, the clock is striking eight."
He seats himself, and left and right
His finger wags with all his might,
And hoarse his voice, and hoarser grows,
With "here she goes-and there she goes!"

"Hold!" said the Yankee, "plank the ready!
The landlord wagged his finger steady,
While his left hand, as well as able,
Conveyed a purse upon the table.
"Tom, with the money let's be off!"
This made the landlord only scoff;
He heard them running down the stair,
But was not tempted from his chair;
Thought he, "the fools! I'll bite them yet!
So poor a trick shan't win the bet."
And loud and loud the chorus rose
Of "here she goes-and there she goes!"
While right and left his finger swung,
In keeping to his clock and tongue.

His mother happened in, to see
Her daughter; "where is Mrs. B-?
When will she come, as you suppose?
Son!

"Here she goes-and there she goes!"

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"Here she goes-and there she goes!"

His wife surveyed him with alarm,
And rushed to him and seized his arm;
He shook her off, and to and fro
His fingers persevered to go.
While curled his very nose with ire,
That she against him should conspire,
And with more furious tone arose

The "Here she goes-and there she goes!"

"Lawks!" screamed the wife, "I'm in a whirl!'
Run down and bring the little girl;
She is his darling, and who knows
But "

"Here she goes—and there she goes!”

"Lawks! he is mad! what made him thus?
Good Lord! what will become of us?
Run for a Doctor-run-run-run-
For Doctor Brown, and Doctor Dun,
And Doctor Black, and Doctor White,
And Doctor Grey, with all your might."

The doctors came, and looked and wondered,
And shook their heads, and paused and pon-

dered,

Till one proposed he should be bled,
"No-leached you mean," the other said-
"Clap on a blister" roared another,
No-cup him "—"no-trepan him, brother!"
A sixth would recommend a purge,
The next would an emetic urge,

The eighth, just come from a dissection,
His verdict gave for an injection;
The last produced a box of pills,
A certain cure for earthly ills;
"I had a patient yesternight,'

Quoth he, "and wretched was her plight,
And as the only means to save her,
Three dozen patent pills I gave her,
And by to-morrow, I suppose

That

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"You all are fools," the lady said,
"The way is, just to shave his head,
Run, bid the barber come anon

Thanks, mother," thought her clever son,
"You help the knaves that would have bit me,
But all creation shan't out-wit me!"
Thus to himself, while to and fro
His finger perseveres to go,

And from his lips no accent flows
But "here she goes—and there she goes!”

The barber came-"Lord help him! what
A queerish customer I've got;

But we must do our best to save him-
So hold him, gemmen, while I shave him!"
But here the doctors interpose-
"A woman never

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"There she goes!"

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LITTLE RED RIDING HOOD.

BY JAMES N. BARKER.

SHE was, indeed, a pretty little creature,
So meek, so modest: what a pity, madam,
That one, so young and innocent, should fall
A prey to the rav'nous wolf.

-The wolf, indeed!
You've left the nursery to but little purpose,
If you believe a wolf could ever speak,
Though in the time of Æsop or before.
-Was't not a wolf then? I have read the story
A hundred times; and heard it told; nay, told it
Myself to my younger sisters, when we've shrank
Together in the sheets, from very terror,
And, with protecting arms each round the other,
E'en sobb'd ourselves to sleep. But I remember

I saw the story acted on the stage,
Last winter in the city, I and my school-mates,

1827.

With our most kind preceptress, Mrs. Bazely.
And so it was a robber, not a wolf,

That met poor little Red Riding Hood i' the wood?
-Nor wolf nor robber, child: this nursery tale
Contains a hidden moral.

-Hidden: nay,

I'm not so young, but I can spell it out,

And thus it is: Children, when sent on errands, Must never stop by the way to talk with wolves. -Tut! wolves again; wilt listen to me, child? -Say on, dear grandma

-Thus then, dear, my daughter: In this young person, culling wild flowers, You see the peril that attends the maiden Who, in her walk through life, yields to temptation, And quits the onward path to stray aside,

Allur'd by gaudy weeds.

-Nay, none but children Could gather butter-cups and May-weed, mother. But violets, dear violets-methinks

I could live ever on a bank of violets,

Or die most happy there.

At your years, die!

-You die, indeed,

-Then sleep, ma'am, if you please, As you did yesterday, in that sweet spot Down by the fountain; where you seated you To read the last new novel-what d'ye call'tThe Prairie, was it not?

-It was, my love;
And there, as I remember, your kind arm
Pillow'd my aged head; 'twas irksome, sure,
To your young limbs and spirit.

-No, believe me.
To keep the insects from disturbing you
Was sweet employment, or to fan your cheek
When the breeze lull'd.

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With its fair sisters, call'd by country people

And fell in music-then pass'd prattling on,
Between the flowery banks that bent to kiss them.
I dreamed not of these sights or sounds.
-Then just

Beyond the brook there lay a narrow strip,
Like a rich riband, of enamell'd meadow,
Girt by a pretty precipice, whose top

Was crowned with rose-bay. Half way down there stood,

Sylph-like, the light fantastic columbine,

As ready to leap down unto her lover
Harlequin Bartsia, in his painted vest

Of green and crimson.

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-Tut! enough, enough,

Your madcap fancy runs too riot, girl.
We must shut up your books of botany.
And give you graver studies.

-Will you shut
The book of nature, too?-for it is that
I love and study. Do not take me back
To the cold, heartless city, with its forms
And dull routine? its artificial manners
And arbitrary rules; its cheerless pleasures
And mirthless masquing. Yet a little longer
O let me hold communion here with nature.
-Well, well, we'll see. But we neglect our lectures
Upon this picture.

-Poor Red Riding Hood!
We had forgotten her; yet mark, dear madam,
How patiently the poor thing waits our leisure.
And now the hidden moral.

-Thus it is:
Mere children read such stories literally;
But the more elderly and wise deduce
A moral from the fiction. In a word,
The wolf that you must guard against is-LOVE.
-I thought love was an infant; "toujours enfant."
-The world and love were young together, child,
And innocent-alas! time changes all things.
-True, I remember, love is now a man.
And the song says, a very saucy one."
But how a wolf?

44

-In ravenous appetite, Unpitying and unsparing, passion is oft A beast of prey. As the wolf to the lamb Is he to innocence.

-I shall remember,

For now I see the moral. Trust me, madam,
Should I e'er meet this wolf-love in my way,
Be he a boy or man I'll take good heed,
And hold no converse with him.

-You'll do wisely.

Fair maids of the spring. The lowly cinquefoil too, Nor e'er in field or forest, plain or pathway,

And statelier marigold. The violet sorrel

Blushing so rosy red in bashfulness.

And her companion of the season, dress'd
In varied pink. The partridge evergreen,
Hanging its fragrant waxwork on each stem,
And studding the green sod with scarlet berries.
-Did you see all those flowers? I mark'd them not.
-0 many more, whose names I have not learn'd.
And then to see the light blue butterfly
Roaming about, Ilke an enchanted thing,
From flower to flower, and the bright honey-bee-
And there too was the fountain, overhung
With bush and tree, draped by the graceful vine,
Where the white blossoms of the dogwood, met
The crimson red-bud, and the sweet birds sang
Their madrigals; while the fresh springing waters,
Just stirring the green fern that bathed within them,
Leapt joyful o'er their fairy mound of rock,

Shall he from me know whither I am going,

Or whisper that he'll meet me.

-That's my child.

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THE GIRL WITH THE GUN, AND THE MAN'S FRIGHT.
""
FROM EUTOPIA." A NOVEL. (ANON.) 1828.

PERHAPS the reader might wish to know what became of Mr. Van Vacuum? Let it be remembered, that this unfortunate foreigner was not legally bound to engage in the battle; that he was impressed into the service; and that he could not, therefore, be expected to have much stomach for the business. In point of fact, he declined fighting altogether. It may be, that, having adopted Ovid's comparison of Love and War, he carried the parallelism throughout, and since, in the former, as his master says cedendo abibis victor-so in the latter he took it for granted, that the way to conquer, was to run. Run he did, at all events; and a soliloquy, which he uttered, after the battle was ended, will best let the reader into his state of feeling on the subject. He had secreted himself among some rocks, which bordered the Round Pond mentioned by Sergeant Rigmarole; and when, through an opening in the woods, he saw the Mingoes fairly vanish over the summit of Back-bone Ridge, he ventured forth:

words, it should seem, contained only the disjecta membra of his thoughts:

"Good!-It would work-as Hotspur says, an excellent plot-it would bring her to terms-Ovid exactly-could I only meet

Both tongue and feet of the soliloquist were here arrested. He was turning the point of a rock, when his eye encountered an object, that brought the prospect of accomplishing his present purposes much nearer than he had anticipated. It was Mary Blaxton herself. The reader has already been informed that she left her mother's house soon after hearing the news of Captain Homebred's fate. Round Pond was one of her favorite resorts; and she was now sitting where she had often sat beforeon a sort of natural seat in the rocks; the ground descending from her feet in a gentle declivity to the edge of the water. She was reclining a little to the right; her head resting upon her right hand, and her right elbow being supported by a rock. Between the thumb and forefinger of her left hand she was unconsciously rolling the sprig of some bush, which she had as unconsciously plucked on the way. Her head was concealed from view by a large bonnet, which had been prescribed by her mother as a shield against the sun. From the direction of this article, it was evident, that Mary was intently gazing into the bosom of the pond; though the probability is, that her thoughts were employed upon a far different subject.

After recovering from the first shock at meeting this sight, Mr. Van Vacuum advanced cautiously towards the contemplative maiden; and, to such a distance in front of her face did her bonnet project, that he was enabled to approach within a dozen steps of her before she became sensible that any person was near. He rushed briskly into her presence; and, presenting his musket in due form, said—

"Good bye to you, my Knights of the Copper Countenance!" said he, as the last Mingo disappeared from view. "I'm glad there was no need of my assistance to make you scamper over the hills. I shall live to fight another day-but not with you, or the like of you, if my will be done. I have no opinion of fighting at chance-medley in the woods-of playing at this kind of hide-and-go-seek with a parcel of savages. But, now, these Americans like the sport. They care no more for the yell of an Indian than I do for the peep of a chicken, I looked into the rascals' faces as we were making our way in the woods; and though I thought my whole substance would run in perspiration through the pores of my skin, I could not see that one of them was in the slightest degree affected by their situation. The fact is, they are savages themselves; and I shall so write them down in my book. They, "We soldiers always present arms in the presence I shall remark, with oracular gravity, They who of our commanders-and you know, Miss Mary, I fight like savages must themselves be savages. He am always your humble servant to command." who has no other tactics than that of dodging behind trees and bushes, though a white man at the surface, must be an Indian at the bottom-and so forth, and so forth. Then they are as simple as savages. An Englishman can bamboozle them as he pleases. I'll bet now, I shall make this whole town believe I have this day fought most heroically. And I wish I could but have an interview with Mary Blaxton. I think I could persuade her charmingly."

With this Mr. Van Vacuum commenced a slow and musing walk, in a homeward direction, upon the shore of Round Pond. This beautiful mirror of waters was about one mile in circuit. Its shore was of rock; but disjointed and irregular, sometimes approaching near the water's edge, then receding to a considerable distance-here rising perpendicularly to the height of twenty or thirty feet, and there sloping off with a gentle declivity. The ground was covered with an undergrowth principally of honeysuckle and whortleberry; amidst which stood up the loftier and more lusty oaks and hickories.

Mr. Van Vacuum muttered as he went; but his

"Then," said Mary, who, from a state of deep, tragic feeling, felt her spirits fast rising into comedy at this manoeuvre of the martial pedagogue— "Then, my obedient servant to commandshoulder arms!"

'At your service," returned the new recruit, obsequiously performing that part of the manual exercise.

"Very well-now recover arms!" continued Mary, who, from the proximity of her mother's house to the green, where all military parades took place, had learned all the ordinary words of command. Mr. Van Vacuum obeyed orders.

"To the right-about face!" added Mary. To the right-about Mr. Van accordingly wheeled. "You are dismissed," said Mary.

"Well, but," answered the soldier, awkwardly turning round, and evincing in look, gesture, and voice, that he had been brought to a pass, which he had not anticipated; "will my royal mistress, Mary, Queen of Hearts, thus thrust from her presence, a dutiful subject, that had just returned from the field of battle ?"

"True," returned Mary, assuming the princely air. "Intelligence hath reached our royal ear, that you have rendered signal service to the state; that you have taught my subjects generalship-that you formed yourself into a body of reserve, aud took your post most prudently beyond the reach of Indian rifles; and that, so effectually did you keep the secret of your movements, that no person even knew the position you had taken in such a masterly manner. All this we learn from our trusty and right worthy cousin, Lord Ore Rigmarole."

"He lies!" exclaimed Mr. Van Vacuum. "I'll say it in his teeth: it is a lie-a falsehood-an untruth. How could he tell? Were we not all scattered about-one fighting here, and another fighting there?-one dodging behind this bush, and another dodging behind that bush?-one taking aim from this tree, and another taking aim from that tree? How could we watch each other? How could they see me, or I see them? Was it not all smoke? No-it is a vile slander: they envy me: I was foremost of them all: ah! had you seen me, Mary

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"How-Mary!" interrupted the Queen of Hearts. "A subject to a sovereign thus! How dare you be so familiar, sir, to call me Mary?"

"Pshaw, Miss Blaxton, will you always joke? are you never to be serious for a moment?"

"Rebel! avaunt and quit my sight," added Mary, tragically waving her hand.

"I will not budge an inch," quoth the dutiful subject: "I will be heard. You wrong me every way:-abuse me-scoff at me-play tricks upon me. Yes, your cruelty drove me into the thickest of the fight. Existence was nothing without you, and I wished to be rid of it. I faced death in every direction, but the very King of Terrors seemed to be afraid of me."

"No doubt of it," said Mary. "I should have been had I been he."

"You are pleased to be facetious, Miss Blaxton. I can only say a man's life is in his own power"and here the brave man dropped his head in mysterious cogitation; strode a few paces one way, and strode the same back; then opened the pan of his musket, and went on-" and there are weapons that can take it. Life-what is it! a respiration! a puff of empty air: 'tis here-'tis gone!"

The performer now took another turn upon the beach, after which he drew the ramrod of his musket, let it into the barrel, and with his fingers measured the depth of the cartridge-occasionally casting a glance at Mary, who was indeed regarding him very closely, not, however, with that look of alarm, which the heroic schoolmaster had hoped to see, but with a mixed expression of humor, indignation, and pity. Having finished his manoeuvres, he advanced somewhat nearer to Mary, and repeated

"I say, Miss Blaxton, a man's life is in his own power."

"No doubt of it," answered Mary. "I say further, Miss Blaxton, that Ebenezer Van Vacuum's life is in his own power."

"And will continue to be, no doubt," said Mary. "But there is doubt, Miss Blaxton, and very serious doubt, too; for I am prepared to put it out of my power at this moment."

"And in what way do you propose to put it out of your power?" asked Mary Blaxton.

"By blowing out those brains which have caused

me so much hopeless misery," answered the Ovidian.

"Horrid! horrid! I hope not, Mr. Van Vacuum -I hope not."

"You know it is in your power to prevent it, Miss Blaxton: if you choose to sit by and see the thing take place, when it is in your power to prevent it, be it so."

"But Mr. Van Vacuum, how will you go about it? Who will pull the trigger for you?"

"That will I," promptly answered the suicide; who, thinking that the impression which he seemed to have made upon Mary's mind, was fading away, assumed more decision of tone, and threw himself into a fearful bustle. "I shall touch the trigger with my toe, Miss Blaxton, as you shall see presently. There are ways enough, I can assure you." And here the speaker cocked his gun, and placed the breech upon the ground; but seemed to expeience considerable difficulty in finding a good rest Mary sprang up and forward, exclaimingely, Mr. VanVacuum, you are not in earnest! Surely you do not mean to blow your brains out indeed! Hold! for mercy's sake, hold! O good Mr. Van Vacuum give me your gun!-do! I beseech you-I'll promise-O do let me have it, (her hands were now upon the fatal weapon)-let me have it, and I'll-I'll-I'll-I will, depend upon it!"

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"Blow out your brains myself," exclaimed Mary, bringing up the musket to suit the action to the word, and putting on the fiercest look of which she was mistress.

This unexpected turn of affairs seemed very considerably to discompose the brains that were to be blown out. Mr. Van Vacuum's first movement was to rise on his toes, and shrug up the shoulder nearest the muzzle of the musket; his second, to change sides, and lift up one of his legs after the other, ejaculating the while

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