THE HUMOROUS SPEAKER. THE MOSQUITO'S SONG-A SOLILOQUY.-ANON. In the dreamy hour of night I'll hie, In the chamber hushed, where the sleepers lie; In these I'll sport through summer night, There's one I view with an evil eye; Holds all entranced, I'll wing my flight, There's a poet, I know,—in the still midnight And wearied of earth, in a world all his own, A creation of beauty in the pure, still air. But when a new image has broken on his sight, And the long-courted vision shall vanish-while I, But she shall not taste the gentle delight; THE CONTEST UNEQUAL.-SYDNEY SMITH. MR. Bailiff, I have spoken so often on this subject, that I am sure both you and the gentlemen here present, will be obliged to me for saying but little, and that favor I am as willing to confer, as you can be to receive it. I feel most deeply the event which has taken place, because, by putting the two houses of Parliament in collision with each other, it will impede the public business, and diminish the public prosperity. I feel it as a churchman, because I cannot but blush to see so many dignitaries of the church arrayed against the wishes and happiness of the people. I feel it more than all, because I believe it will sow the seeds of deadly hatred between the aristocracy and the great mass of the people. The loss of the bill I do not feel, and for the best of all possi ble reasons-because I have not the slightest idea that it is PHAETHON, OR THE AMATEUR COACHMAN.-JOHN G. SAXE DAN Phaethon,—so the histories run,— Now old Father Phoebus, ere railways begun Drove a very fast coach by the name of 'The Sun'; Trips every day, (On Sundays and all, in a heathenish way,) Of lanterns that shone with a brilliant display, To darken the brow of the son of the Sun! I swear I will grant you whate'er you desire!' The youngster said, 'I'll mount the coach when the horses are fed !— I beg you won't, Just stop a moment and think upon't! Besides, you see, Twill really be Your first appearance on any stage! Desist, my child, The cattle are wild, And when their mettle is thoroughly ' riled', Miss Prudence has just run away, And Miss Steady assisted her flight. No misapprehensions be making; HOW TO SELL A HORSE.-ANON. "MR. COPER, as kept the Red Lion Yard, in High street, was the best to sell a horse I ever know'd, sir, and I know'd some good 'uns, I have; but he was the best. He'd look at you ast tho' butter wouldn't melt in his mouth, and his small wall eyes seemed to have no more life in 'em than a dead whiting's. My master, Captain Simple, stood his hosses there; and, o' course, I saw a good deal of Mr. Coper. One day, a gent came to look at the stable, and see if he could buy a hoss. Coper saw in a minit that he knew nothing about horse-flesh, and so was uncommon civil. The first thing he showed him was a great grey coach-hoss, about seventeen hands and an inch, with a shoulder like a Erkilus." I suppose you mean Hercules ?" I suppose I do, sir. The gent was a little man; so, o' course, the grey was took in agen, and a Suffolk punch cob, that 'ud a done for a bishop, was then run up the yard. But, lor! the little gent's legs 'ud never have been of any use to him; they'd a stuck out on each side, like a curricle-bar. So he wouldn't do. Coper show'd him three or four others, good things in their way, but not at all suited to the gent. At last Coper says to him, with a sort o' sigh, 'Well, sir, I'm afear'd we shan't make a deal of it to-day, sir. You're wery particular, as you've a right to be, and I'll look about; and if I can find one that I think 'll do, I'll call on you.' By this time he had walked the gent down the stable to opposite a stall where was a brown hoss, fifteen hands, or about. Now, there 'ud be the thing to suit you, sir,' says he; and I only wish I could find 6 |