"I'm wet," cried Harry," to the skin
"Hip! hallo! Ben!-don't be a ninny;
"Beneath the gate I've thrust a guinea,
"So tumble out and let me in."

66

Humph!" growl'd the greedy old curmudgeon, Half overjoy'd and half in dudgeon,

"Now you may pass; but make no fuss,
"On tiptoe walk, and hold your prate.'
"Look on the stones, old Cerberus,
Cried Harry as he pass'd the gate;
"I've dropp'd a shilling-take the light,
"You'll find it just outside-good night."
Behold the porter in his shirt,

Cursing the rain, which never stopp'd,
Groping and raking in the dirt,
And all without success; but that
Is hardly to be wonder'd at,

Because no shilling had been dropp'd: So he gave o'er the search at last, Regain'd the door, and found it fast! With sundry oaths, and growls and groans, He rang once-twice-thrice; and then, Mingled with giggling, heard the tones Of Harry mimicking old Ben, "Who's there? 'tis really a disgrace "To ring so loud-I've lock'd the gate; "I know my duty-'tis too lateYou wouldn't have me lose my place." "Psha! Mr. Dashington, remember "This is the middle of November:

"I'm stripped; 'tis raining cats and dogs." "Hush! hush!" quoth Hal, "I'm fast asleep ;" And then he snored as loud and deep

As a whole company of hogs.

"But hark'ye, Ben, I'll grant admittance "At the same rate I paid myself."

"Nay, master, leave me half the pittance,"

Replied the avaricious elf.

"No; all or none a full acquittance.

"The terms, I know, are somewhat high;

"But you have fixed the price, not I. "I won't take less, I can't afford it." So, finding all his haggling vain, Ben, with an oath and groan of pain,

Drew out the guinea, and restored it. "Surely you'll give me," growled the outwitted Porter, when again admitted,

"Something, now you've done your joking." Oh, surely, surely," Harry said;

"Since, as you urge, I broke your rest,

"And you're half drowned, and quite undressed, I'll GIVE YOU LEAVE TO GO TO BED.

THE PEASANTRY

OF ENGLAND.

TUN E.-The Admiral.

The peasantry of England,
The merry hearts and free!
The sword may boast a braver band,
But give the scythe to me.
Give me the fame of industry,
Worth all your classic tomes-
God guard the English peasantry,
And guard their happy homes!
The sinews of old England,
The bulwark of the soil,

How much we owe each manly hand
Thus fearless of its toil.

Oh, he who loves the harvest free,
Will sing, where'er he roams,
God bless the English peasantry,
And give them happy homes!

od speed the plough of England!
We'll hail thee with three cheers.
And here's to those whose labour planned,
The all which life endears.

May still the wealth of industry
Be seen where'er man roams-
A cheer for England's peasantry!
God send them happy homes!

TOM LONG SMITH, THE DOCTOR.
(A Comic Recitation.)

Hodge, a poor honest country lout,
Not overstock'd with learning,
Chanced on a summer's eve to meet
The vicar home returning.

"Ah! master Hodge," the vicar said
"What, still as wise as ever?
"The people in the village say
"That you are wond'rous clever."
"Why, measter parson, as to that
"I beg you'll right conceive me;
"I donna brag, but still I know
"A thing or two, believe me."
"I'll try your skill," the vicar said,
"For learning what digestion;
"Which soon you'll prove,

"By solving me a question:

"Noah, of old, three babies had,

"Or grown-up children rather;

"Shem, Ham, and Japhet they were called"Now who was Japhet's father ?"

"Adzooks!" cried Hodge, and scratch'd his head,

"That does my wits belabour;

"But homeward, howsome er, I'll run,

"And ax old Giles, my neighbour!"

To Giles he went, and put the case
With circumspect intention.

"Thou fool!" cried Giles, "I'll make it clear

"To thy dull comprehension.

"Three children has Tom Long, the smith,

"Or cattle doctor, rather;

"Tom, Dick, and Harry they are called"Now who is Harry's father?"

"Ad, rat it!" honest Hodge replies,

66

Right well I know your lingo.

"Who's Harry's father ?-stop! here goes!Why Tom Long Smith-by jingo!"

Away he ran to meet the priest,
With all his might and main ;
Who, with good humour, instant put
The question once again.

"Noah, of old, three babies had,

"Or grown-up children, rather; "Shem, Ham, and Japhet they were called"Now, who was Japhet's father?

"I have it now," Hodge grinning cries"I'll answer like a proctor.

"Who's Japhet's father, now I know

66

Why TOM LONG SMITH, THE DOCTOR!'

MY SHIP'S MY BRIDE.

My ship's my bride, the sea's my bed,
My curtains are the sky,

A blood-red flag streams o'er my head-
Thus may I live and die!

My ship's, &c.

See, see, my Sally's bosom swell

To Nature's moving tide:

Beats there a heart no rapture tells

To eye my beauteous bride?

My ship's, &c.

And when she breaks from anchor's sleep,
Oh, with what grace she walks,

Like Venus rising from the deep,

Hear-hear how she talks!

My ship's, &c.

Her white robe, like her bosom swells
Full round, expanding wide;

Beats there a heart no rapture tells
To eye my beauteous bride?

My ship's, &c.

THE SCULLION SPRITE;

OR, THE GARRET GOBLIN.

Ah! who can see, and seeing not admire,
Whene'er she sets the pot upon the fire!

Her hands outshine the fire, and redder things;

Her eyes are blacker than the pot she brings.-SHEN STONE.

'Twas at the hour when sober cits
Their eyes in slumber close;

In bounced Bet Scullion's greasy ghost,
And pinch'd Tom Ostler's toes.

Her flesh was like a roasting pig's,
So deadly to the view;

And coal-black was her smutty hand,
That held her apron blue.

So shall the reddest chops appear,
When life's last coal expires;
Such is the garb that cooks must wear,
When death has quench'd their fires.
Her face was like a raw beef-steak,
Just ready to be fried;

Carrots had budded on her cheek,
And beet-root's crimson pride.

But love had, like the fly-blow's power,
Despoil'd her buxom hue;

The fading carrot left her cheek;

She died at twenty-two!

"Awake!" she cried, "Bet Scullion bawls! "Come from her garret high;

"Now hear the maid, for whom you scorn'd "A wedding-ring to buy.

"This is the hour when scullion ghosts
"Their dishclouts black resume;
"And goblin cooks ascend the loft,
"To haunt the faithless groom.

"Bethink thee of thy tester broke,
"Thy disregarded oath ;

"And give me back my mutton-pies, "And give me back my broth.