for they shan't stay at home; they shan't lose their learning; it's all their father will leave them, I'm sure. But they shall go to school. Don't tell me they shouldn't; (you are so aggravating, Caudle, you'd spoil the temper of an angel ;) they shall go to school: mark that; and if they get their deaths. of cold, it's not my fault; I didn't lend the umbrella. 'Here," says Caudle, in his manuscript, "I fell asleep and dreamed that the sky was turned into green calico, with whalebone ribs that, in fact, the whole world revolved under a tremendous umbrella!" "HELPS TO READ."-BYROM. A CERTAIN artist,-I've forgot his name,- Or, "helps to read," as, when they first were sold, And, for all uses to be had from glass, Contrive to please you, if you want a pair." "Can you? pray do, then." So at first he chose To place a youngish pair upon his nose; And,-book produced, to see how they would fit,- Then, sir, I fancy, if you please to try, These in my hand will better suit your eye 211 "No, but they don't."-" Well, come, sir, if you please, Here is another sort: we'll e'en try these; Still somewhat more they magnify the letter. Now, sir?"—" Why, now, I'm not the bit the better." "No! here-take these, which magnify still more, How do they fit?"—"Like all the rest before!" In short they tried a whole assortment through, So odd a case, thought sure the man is blind! Pray, let me ask you-Can you read at all?” THE GRAHAM SYSTEM.-ANON. OH! wond'rous age, surpassing ages past! When steam and politics are flying fast, When roads to rails, and wine to tea give place— When great reformers race, and none can stay 'em— Oh! Jackson, Tappan, Symmes, Sam Patch and Graham! That thou, Starvation's monarch, couldst be beaten ; No doubt a prejudice of education; For fact is fact-this ought to make us humble- But why on us pursue thy cruel plan? Oh, why condemn us thus to bread and water? 163 Perchance thou countest all the race of man, As rogues and culprits who deserve no quarter; And 'tis thy part to punish, not to spare, By putting us upon State Prison fare. All flesh is poison, in thy sapient eyes,— No doubt thou 'rt right, and all mankind are wrong; But still, in spite of us, the thought will rise, How, eating poison, men have lived so long? Mayhap thou meanest a slow-poison, then, Which takes effect at three-score-years-and-ten. Our table treasures vanish one by one, Beneath thy wand, like Sancho's, they retire; "The When wine was banished by the cruel fates, Venison is vile, a cup of coffee curst, And food that's fried, or fricasseed, forgot; But dread'st thou not some famished foe may rise, Beware! "there is no joking with the maw," But leave them forever to do as they please, And look somewhere else for their butter and cheese." Ass waited a moment, to see if she'd done, I "That you 're of great service to them is quite true, ""Tis under their shelter you snugly repose, When without it, dear ma'am, you, perhaps, might be froze; The cow upon this cast her eyes on the grass, OLD WINTER.-MOORE. OLD Winter is coming again-alack! He cares not a pin for a shivering back— He whistles his chills with a wonderful knack, A witty old fellow this Winter is→ He cracks his jokes on the pretty sweet Miss The wrinkled old maiden unus'd to kiss- Old Winter's a frolicksome blade, I wot- He'll whistle along for the "want of his thought,” Old Winter is blowing his gusts along, And merrily shaking the tree! From morning till night he will sing his song, Now moaning and short-now howling and long- Old Winter's a wicked old chap, I ween- He withers the flowers so fresh and green- Old Winter's a tough old fellow for blows- He will trip up our trotters and rend our clothes, He minds not the cries of his friends or his foes-A tough old fellow is he! A cunning old fellow is Winter, they say, He peeps in the crevices day by day, To see how we 're passing our time away, |