NUMBERS ALTERED.

The lounger must oft, as he walks through the streets,
Be struck with the grace of some girl that he meets;
So graceful behind in dress-ringlets-all that-
But one gaze at the front-what a horrid old cat!
You then think of the notice you've seen on a door,
Which informs you, of "70 late 24."

GRAMMAR FOR THE COURT OF BERLIN

His majesty you should not say of Fritz,
That king is neuter; so for His, use Its.

THE EMPTY BOTTLE.

WILLIAM AYTOUN

Aн, liberty! how like thou art

To this large bottle lying here,
Which yesterday from foreign mart,
Came filled with potent English beer!

A touch of steel-a hand-a gush—
A pop that sounded far and near-
A wild emotion-liquid rush-

And I had drunk that English beer!

And what remains ?-An empty shell!
A lifeless form both sad and queer,
A temple where no god doth dwell-
The simple memory of beer!

THE DEATH OF DOCTOR MORRISON.

BENTLEY'S MISCELLANY.

WHAT's the news?-Why, they say Death has killed Dr. Morri

son.

The Pill-maker? Yes. Then Death will be sorry soon.

EPIGRAMS BY JOHN G. SAXE.

ON A RECENT CLASSIC CONTROVERSY.

Nay, marvel not to see these scholars fight,

In brave disdain of certain scath and scar

'Tis but the genuine, old, Hellenic spite,

"When Greek meets Greek, then comes the tug of war !"

ANOTHER.

Quoth David to Daniel-"Why is it these scholars
Abuse one another whenever they speak?"

Quoth Daniel to David-it nat'rally follers

Folks come to hard words if they meddle with Greek !"

O'N AN ILL-READ LAWYER.

An idle attorney besought a brother
For "something to read-some novel or other,
That was really fresh and new."

"Take Chitty!” replied his legal friend,
"There is n't a book that I could lend

Would prove more 'novel' to you!"

ON AN UGLY PERSON SITTING FOR A DAGUERREOTYPE.

Here Nature in her glass—the wanton elf-
Sits gravely making faces at herself;

And while she scans each clumsy feature o'er,
Repeats the blunders that she made before!

WOMAN'S WILL.

Men dying make their wills-but wives

Escape a work so sad;

Why should they make what all their lives
The gentle dames have had?

FAMILY QUARRELS.

"A fool,” said Jeanette, "is a creature I hate!”
"But hating,” quoth John, “is immoral;
Besides, my dear girl, it's a terrible fate
To be found in a family quarrel !"

A REVOLUTIONARY HERO.

JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL.

OLD JOE is gone, who saw hot Percy goad
His slow artillery up the Concord road,
A tale which grew in wonder year by year;
As every time he told it, Joe drew near
To the main fight, till faded and grown gray,
The original scene to bolder tints gave way;
Then Joe had heard the foe's scared double-quick
Beat on stove drum with one uncaptured stick,
And, ere death came the lengthening tale to lop,
Himself had fired, and seen a red-coat drop;
Had Joe lived long enough, that scrambling fight
Had squared more nearly to his sense of right,
And vanquished Perry, to complete the tale,
Had hammered stone for life in Concord jail.

EPIGRAMS OF HALPIN.

THE LAST RESORT.

A DRAMATIST declared he had got
So many people in his plot,

That what to do with half he had
Was like to drive him drama-mad!

'The hero and the heroine
Of course are married--very fine!
But with the others, what to do
Is more than I can tell-can you?"

His friend replied "Tis hard to say,
But yet I think there is a way.

The married couple, thank their stars,
And half the 'others' take the cars
The other half you put on board
An Erie steamboat-take my word,
They'll never trouble you again!"
The dramatist resumed his pen.

FEMININE ARITHMETIC.

LAURA.

On me he shall ne'er put a ring,

So, mamma, 'tis in vain to take trouble --For I was but eighteen in spring,

While his age exactly is double.

MAMMA,

He's but in his thirty-sixth year,

Tall, handsome, good-natured and witty,
And should you refuse him, my dear,
May you die an old maid without pity!

LAURA.

His figure, I grant you, will pass,

And at present he's young enough plenty;

But when I am sixty, alas!

Will not he be a hundred and twenty?

THE MUSHROOM HUNT.

In early days, ere Common Sense

And Genius had in anger parted,

They made to friendship some pretense,

Though each, Heaven knows! diversely hearted. To hunt for mushrooms once they went,

Through nibbled sheepwalks straying onward,

Sense with his dull eyes earthward bent,

While Genius shot his glances sunward!

Away they go! On roll the hours,

And toward the west the day-god edges; See! Genius holds a wreath of flowers,

Fresh culled from all the neighboring hedges!
Alas! ere eve their bright hues flit,

While Common Sense (whom I so doat on!)
Thanked God "that he had little wit,"
And drank his ketchup with his mutton.

JUPITER AMANS.

DEDICATED TO VICTOR HUGO.

LONDON LEADER.

"LE PETIT" call not him who by one act

Has turned old fable into modern fact.
Nap Louis courted Europe: Europe shied:
Th' imperial purple was too newly dyed.

"I'll have her though," thought he, "by rape or rapine;
Jove nods sometimes, but catch a Nap a napping!
And now I think of Jove, 't was Jove's own fix,
And so I'll borrow one of Jove's own tricks :
Old itching Palm I'll tickle with a joke,
And he shall lend me England's decent cloak.'
'T was said and done, and his success was full;
He won Europa with the guise of Bull!

THE ORATOR'S EPITAPH.

LORD BROUGHAM.

"HERE, reader, turn your weeping eyes,

My fate a useful moral teaches;

The hole in which my body lies

Would not contain one-half my speeches."