NOBODY'S CHILD.-Phila H. Case. ALONE, in the dreary, pitiless street, Hungry and shivering and nowhere to go; Just over the way there's a flood of light, Are carolling songs in rapture there. Oh! what shall I do when the night comes down When the beautiful children their prayers have said, No father, no mother, no sister, not one In all the world loves me; e'en the little dogs run Watching for hours some large bright star, And a host of white-robed, nameless things, And a voice like the carol of some wild bird Till my heart and spirits are all aflame; And tells me of such unbounded love, And away from the hunger and storms so wild- NATIONAL MONUMENT TO WASHINGTON. R. C. Winthrop, July 4th, 1848. FELLOW-CITIZENS, let us seize this occasion to renew to each other our vows of allegiance and devotion to the American Union, and let us recognize in our common title to the name and the fame of Washington, and in our common veneration for his example and his advice, the all-sufficient centripetal power, which shall hold the thick clustering stars of our confederacy in one glorious constellation forever! Let the column which we are about to construct be at once a pledge and an emblem of perpetual union! Let the foundations be laid, let the superstructure be built up and cemented, let each stone be raised and riveted, in a spirit of national brotherhood! And may the earliest ray of the rising sun-till that sun shall set to rise no more--draw forth from it daily, as from the fabled statue of antiquity, a strain of national harmony, which shall strike a responsive cord in every heart throughout the republic! Proceed, then, fellow-citizens with the work for which you have assembled. Lay the corner-stone of a monument which shall adequately bespeak the gratitude of the whole American people to the illustrious father of his country! Build it to the skies; you cannot outreach the loftiness of his principles! Found it upon the massive and eternal rock; you cannot make it more enduring than his fame! Construct it of the peerless Parian marble; you cannot make it purer than his life! Exhaust upon it the rules and principles of ancient and of modern art; you cannot make it more proportionate than his character. But let not your homage to his memory end here. Think not to transfer to a tablet or a column the tribute which is due from yourselves. Just honor to Washington can only be rendered by observing his precepts and imitating his example. Similitudine decoremus. He has built his own monument. We, and those who come after us, in successive generations, are its appointed, its privileged guardians. The wide-spread republic is the future monument to Washington. Maintain its independence. Uphold its constitution. Preserve its union. Defend its liberty. Let it stand before the world in all its original strength and beauty, securing peace, order, equality, and freedom, to all within its boundaries, and shedding light and hope and joy upon the pathway of human liberty throughout the world-and Washington needs no other monument. Other structures may fully testify our veneration for him; this, this alone can adequately illustrate his services to mankind. Nor does he need even this. The republic may perish; the wide arch of our ranged Union may fall; star by star its glories may expire; stone by stone its columns and its capitol may moulder and crumble; all other names which adorn its annals may be forgotten; but as long as human hearts shall anywhere pant, or humau tongues anywhere plead, for a true, rational, constitutional liberty, those hearts shall enshrine the memory, and those tongues prolong the fame, of GEORGE WASHINGTON. VAT YOU PLEASĖ.— Wm. B. Fowle. Two Frenchmen, who had just come over, (No weasels ere were thinner,) Trudged up to town from Dover, Their slender store exhausted on the way, Towards night, one Frenchman at a tavern door The ready waiter at his elbow stands "Sir, will you favor me with your commands, Roast goose or ducks, sir, choose you that or these ? "Sure, you are very kine, sure, vat you please." It was a glorious treat, pie, pudding, cheese and meat; At last the Frenchman, having eaten his fill, Prepared to go, when-" Here, sir, is your bill!" O, you are Bill-Vell, Mr. Bill, good-day !" My name is Tom, sir--you've this bill to pay."--- I call for notting, sare, pardonnez moi ! You show to me the pooden, goose and sheeze, Could not help laughing in the Frenchman's face, Our Frenchman's appetite subdued, He told how he had taken John Bull in. The waiter saw the joke, and slyly took "What will you have, sir ?" venturing to repeat- With bow and smile, quick answers-" Vat you please l But scarcely had he let the sentence slip, When round his shoulder twines the pliant whip. "Sure! sare! ah misericorde ! parbleu ! O dear, monsieur, what for you strike me? huh WILL THE NEW YEAR COME TO-NIGHT, MAMMA?-Cora M. Eager. Will the New Year come to-night, mamma? I'm tired of waiting so My stocking hung by the chimney-side full three long days ago; I run to peep within the door by morning's early light'Tis empty still: oh, say, mamma, will the New Year come to-night? Will the New Year come to-night, mamma ?-the snow is on the hill, And the ice must be two inches thick upon the meadow's rill. I heard you tell papa, last night, his son must have a sled, (I didn't mean to hear, mamma,) and a pair of skates, you said. I prayed for just those things, mamma. Oh, I shall be full of glee, And the orphan boys in the village school will all be envying me; But I'll give them toys, and lend them books, and make their New Year glad, For God, you say, takes back his gifts when little folks are bad. And won't you let me go, mamma, upon the New Year's day, And carry something nice and warm to poor old Widow Gray? I'll leave the basket near the door, within the garden gateWill the New Year come to-night, mamma ?-it seems so long to wait. * The New Year comes to-night, mamma, I saw it in my sleep; My stocking hung so full, I thought-mamma, what makes you weep? But it only held a little shroud--a shroud, and nothing more; And an open colin, made for me, was standing on the floor! It seemed so very strange, indeed, to find such gifts, instead Of all the toys I wished so much-the story-books and sled; And while I wondered what it meant, you came with tear ful joy, And said, "Thou'lt find the New Year first: God calleth thee, my boy!" |