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The first dull glance that his eyeballs rolled

Was down towards his shrunken hand;
And he smiled, and closed his eyes again

As they fell on the rescued brand.

And no one touched the sacred sword.

Till at length, when Morris came,
The little negro stretched it out,

With his eager eyes aflame.

And if Morris wrung the poor boy's hand,

And his words seemed hard to speak,
And tears ran down his manly cheeks,

What tongue shall call him weak ?

LXXXVIII.

THE VAGABONDS.

We are two travelers, Roger and I.

Roger's my dog.-Come here, you scamp! Jump for the gentlemen, -mind your eye!

Over the table, -look out for the lamp! The rogue is growing a little old;

Five years we've tramped through wind and weather And slept out-doors when nights were cold,

And ate and drank-and starved--together.

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We've learned what comfort is, I tell you !

A bed on the floor, a bit of rosin,
A fire to thaw our thumbs, (poor fellow !

The paw he holds up there's been frozen,)
Plenty of catgut for my fiddle,

(This out-door business is bad for strings,) Then a few nice buckwheats hot from the griddle,

And Roger and I set up for kings!

No, thank ye, sir,— I never drink;

Roger and I are exceedingly moral – Aren't we, Roger? - See him wink!

Well, something hot, then, -We won't quarrel.

He's thirsty, too,-see him nod his head ?

What a pity, sir, that dogs can't talk ! He understands every word that's said,

And he knows good milk from water-and-chalk.

The truth is, sir, now I reflect,

I've been so sadly given to grog, I wonder I've not lost the respect

(Here's to you, sir !) even of my dog. But he sticks by, through thick and thin;

And this old coat, with its empty pockets, And rags that smell of tobacco and gin,

He'll follow while he has eyes in his sockets.

There is n't another creature living

Would do it, and prove, through every disaster, So fond, so faithful, and so forgiving,

To such a miserable, thankless master! No, sir !--see him wag his tail and grin!

By George! it makes my old eyes water! That is, there's something in this gin

That chokes a fellow. But no matter!

We'll have some music, if you're willing,

And Roger (hen! what a plague a cough is, Sir!) Shall march a little. - Start, you villain!

Stand straight! 'Bout face! Salute your officer! Put up that paw! Dress! Take your rifle!

(Some dogs have arms, you see!) Now hold your Cap while the gentlemen give a trifle,

To aid a poor, old, patriot soldier!

March! Halt! Now show how the rebel shakes,

When he stands up to hear his sentence.
Now tell us how many drams it takes

To honor a jolly new acquaintance.
Five yelps, - that's five; he's mighty knowing!

The night's before us, fill the glasses !
Quick, Sir! I'm ill, ---my brain is going !

Some brandy,--thank you, - there!--it passes !

Why not reform ? That's easily said;

But I've gone through such wretched treatment, Sometimes forgetting the taste of bread,

And scarce remembering what meat meant, That my poor stomach 's past reform;

And there are times when, mad with thinking, I'd sell out heaven for something warm

To prop a horrible inward sinking.

Is there a way to forget to think?

At your age, Sir, home, fortune, friends, A dear girl's love, but I took to drink;

The same old story; you know how it ends. If you could have seen these classic features,

You need n't laugh, sir; they were not then Such a burning libel on God's creatures:

I was one of your handsome men !

If you had seen HER, so fair and young,

Whose head was happy on this breast ! If you could have heard the song I sung

When the wine went round, you would n't have guessed That ever I, sir, should be straying

From door to door, with fiddle and dog, Ragged and penniless, and playing

To you to-night for a glass of grog!

She's married since, - à parson's wife:

'Twas better for her that we should part, Better the soberest, prosiest life

Than a blasted home and a broken heart.
I have seen her ? Once: I was weak and spent

On a dusty road: a carriage stopped :
But little she dreamed, as on she went,

Who kissed the coin that her fingers dropped !

You've set me talking, sir; I'm sorry ;

It makes me wild to think of the change! What do you care for a beggar's story?

Is it amusing ? you find it strange?

I had a mother so proud of me!

'Twas well she died before. Do you know If the happy spirits in heaven can see

The ruin and wretchedness here below?

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Another glass, and strong, to deaden

This pain; then Roger and I will start.
I wonder, has he such a lumpish, leaden,

Aching thing, in place of a heart ?
He is sad sometimes, and would weep, if he could,

No doubt, remembering things that were,
A virtuous kennel, with plenty of food,

And himself a sober, respectable cur.

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I'm better now; that glass was warming.-

You rascal! limber your lazy feet !
We must be fiddling and performing

For supper and bed, or starve in the street.
Not a very gay life to lead, you think?

But soon we shall go where lodgings are free,
And the sleepers need neither victuals nor drink;

The sooner, the better for Roger and me!

LXXXIX.

CORDIAL SUBMISSION TO LAWFUL AUTHORITY A PRIMARY

ATTRIBUTE OF GOOD CITIZENSHIP.

NEWTON BATEMAN.

Obedience is the law of God's universe; the inexorable decree of His providence. And evermore in the back-ground of His love and mercy to the docile and penitent, hangs the cloud of destruction to the incorrigibly guilty. Retribution waits upon invitation. Behind all Jehovah's dealings with angels, men and devils, there lingers an immutable, inexorable, eternal, MUST. Obey and live, refuse and perish, is the epitome of God's natural and spiritual economy

It rules in the moral and material worlds; in the destinies of individuals, of nations, and of the race.

The unsupported body falls, is the lesson slowly and gently taught in the nursery, as the little child steps falteringly from father to mother, from chair to chair. Once learned, the law must be obeyed - death lurks at every precipice. Thus one by one, kindly, imperceptibly almost, God teaches us His physical laws, and ever after, by sea and land, through all the realms of nature, the inexorable decree, "obey or die," attends our footsteps. It is heard in the howl of the tempest, in the thunders of Niagara—it speaks to us in the earthquake and the avalanche--its fiery letters gleam in the storm-cloud, it sounds forth from the caverns and smoke of Vesuvius.

We cannot escape from this omnipresent, eternal must, in the natural world. It is God's tremendous barrier, erected everywhere, to turn us from destruction-erected not in anger, but in love. It is inexorable, because else it would cease to be effective. Some must perish that many may live. We must obey the laws of health ; the penalty of taking poison is death--the penalty of breathing foul air, sooner or later is death the penalty of intemperance is misery, decay and death.

The same unchangeable decree follows us into the moral world. We must obey the moral law, or suffer---physically as well as mentally. Here, too, God has no scruples about enforcing his commands by the ordeal of pain. He does not stop with “moral suasion' merely-He not only pleads with divine tenderness, but He chastises with divine uncompromising firmness and severity. Sin and suffering are indissoluble. In the cup of every forbidden pleasure there lurks a viper, which sooner or later will sting soul and body to death. No tortures of the body can compare with the agonies of the spirit, but in due time, for every infraction of the moral code, the former are superadded to the latter.

Thou shalt not kill," is the sententious decree which epitomizes the divine regard for human life. Not--"It is not best to be a murderer-it is not right-you will be far happier if you do notyou should respect the rights and happiness of others-do not, I beseech you, do not be a murderer”-- but, ringing through the

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