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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, -
Contrive to please you, if you want a pair.”
These in my hand will better suit your eye ?" — "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, But all in vain, for none of them would do. The operator, much surprised to find So odd a case, thought sure the man is blind ! “What sort of eyes can you have got ?" said he. “Why, very good ones, friend, as you may see.” “Yes, I perceive the clearness of the ball.
Pray, let me ask you-Can you read at all ?" 6 No! you great blockhead !-If I could, what need Of paying you
any ' helps to read ?'" And so he left the maker in a heat, Resolved to post him for an arrant cheat.
THE GRAHAM SYSTEM.-ANON.
QH! wond'rous age, surpassing ages past!
When mind is marching at a quick-step pace; When steam and politics are flying fast,
When roads to rails, and wine to tea give placeWhen great reformers race, and none can stay 'emOh! Jackson, Tappan, Symmes, Sam Patch and Graham! The last shall be the first-'twere shame to think
That thou, Starvation's monarch, couldst be beaten;
Nor food itself intended to be eaten-
A ling’ring doubt still haunts the imagination,
No doubt a prejudice of education;
Oh, why condemn us thus to bread and water ?
Perchance thou countest all the race of man,
As rogues and culprits who deserve no quarter;
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; Now steaks are rare, and mutton-chops are done,
Veal's in a stew, the fat is in the fire; Fish, flesh and fowl, are ravish'd in a trice66 Insatiate Graham! could not one suffice ?"
When wine was banished by the cruel fates,
Oh, gentle tea! for thee I trembled then;
which cheers but not inebriates,"
And food that's fried, or fricasseed, forgot;
Clams are condemned, and poultry's gone to pot;
But dread'st thou not some famished foe may rise,
With vengeful arm, and break thy daring jaw?Thou robber of our vitals' best supplies,
Beware! “ there is no joking with the maw,". Nor hope the world will in thy footsteps follow, Thy bread and doctrine are too hard to swallow.
But leave them forever to do as they please,
Ass waited a moment, to see if she'd done,
“ That you 're of great service to them is quite true,
6 'Tis under their shelter you snugly repose,
The cow upon this cast her eyes on the grass,
Old Winter is coming again-alack !
How icy and cold is he!
For he comes from a cold country!
A witty old fellow this Winter is
A mighty old fellow for glee !
The wrinkled old maiden unus'd to kiss-
Is the way with such fellows as he !
Old Winter 's a frolicksome blade, I wot
He is mild in his humor, and free ! He'll whistle along for the “ want of his thought," And set all the warmth of our furs at naught, And ruffle the laces by pretty girls bought,
For a frolicksome fellow is he.
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 longHis voice is loud, for his lungs are strong ;
A merry old fellow is he!
Old Winter 's a wicked old chap, I ween
As wicked as ever you see ;
A wicked old fellow is het
Old Winter 's a tough old fellow for blows
As tough as ever you see ! He will trip up our trotters and rend our clothes, And stiffen our limbs from fingers to toes ; 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,
A cunning old fellow is he !
I'm afraid he is peeping at me!