For people see a tunnel plain,
And don't think it a bore!

The railway mania so pervades
All classes of the nation,

That some, before they 'd lose their rail,
Would rather lose their station.

And yet men are so very fast—
All drivers and no creepers !—
The tradesmen get so wide awake
When they contract for sleepers!

And mark you, when the contract's made,
(Brave Commerce! Heav'n defend her?)

They do not send the Engine in,

But they do send in the Tender!

The schoolmaster was once abroad,
Him now the railway passes;
For by the Mass-he sorts the Mass
Like school-boys into classes.

Degrade you once from class the first,
Then if you've badly reckon'd,
He'll teach you soon that class the third
Is worse than class the second!

Now share-holders are all the go,
Most brave of undertakers!

'Tis quite a treat-to see how sweet
The Brokers are on Breakers.

Oh! how in speculation, now,
Both high and low take trip-
The gentlemen get in the stocks !
The beggars have their scrip!

In Germany whole herds of deer
Were murder'd by the wags;

In England ther's a fine to-do
Among the herds of staggs!

As for excise, which used to be
A source of public treasure,
The railways have cut out all that—
They're guaging beyond measure !

They never starve you! No! not they!
They feed no method shorter-
"A monstrous bit of luggage, and
A little draught of porter !"

Indeed! But Prudence here stops in,-
Just like a wife, in fire,-

And cries" This mania so prevails,
That I am blest, if these here rails
Arn't got the country-pots and pails-
Right bang into a line!"

*

ONE, OR THE OTHER.-REIMER.

IN Henry's reign-the darling king,
Whose praises still the Frenchmen sing—
A peasant once, with idle song,
Was riding happily along

Towards Paris; and, when near that place,
A stately horseman met his face.
It was the king. His retinue

Was at a distance, out of view;

For so the king had planned the matter, That he might reach his purpose better. ές Which way, good man?" the monarch said "Does business you to Paris lead ?"

* Henry, the Fourth.

"It does; but yet another thing-
I wish to see our darling king,
Who loves his people all so dearly,
And whom they love, and that sincerely."
The monarch smiled, and blandly said—
"In that, my friend, I 'll give you aid."
"But how," the rustic asked, "shall I,
'Mid all the great folks standing by,
Tell which is he?"-"I'll tell you
how,"
The king replied. "You 've only now
To notice who, of all the crowd
That lowly bow, or shout aloud,

Keeps on his hat, while others bare
Their heads, and gaze with reverent air."
Now had they got in Paris quite,
The rustic riding on the right.
Whatever boorish life can teach-
Whatever awkwardness can reach,
In manner, motion, look, or speech,
That simple lout that day displayed,
When he in Paris entry made.
He answered all the monarch asked,
And all his humble powers tasked,
To show him how his farm he kept;
How well he fed, how sweet he slept;
How, every Sunday, 'twas his lot
To have a pullet in his pot,—
"Which lot," says he, " is just the thing

That all should have,—so says our king!"
Long, long he talked-his tongue ran fleet,
As up they rode the crowded street;
Nor yet perceived-most strange to say—
From all that met his eye that day,
What must have seemed the oddest thing-
A rustic riding with the king.

But when he saw the windows fly
Open wide, and every eye

Straining at the passers-by,

While all the air is made to ring

With "Vive le roi !"—Long live the king! "Friend," said he to his unknown guide,

While with wonder and fright the monarch he eyed, "Sure, you must be the king, or I!

For nobody else, in all this crowd,

Has a hat on his head, whether humble or proud." The good king smiled. "You 're right," said he; "I'm the person you wished to see!"

TRUST NOT TOO MUCH TO APPEARANCES.-ANON.

MAIS! I am Monsieur Jean Francois Mareè Louis Grenoble. In Angletere here, I vas vat you call de emigrant; because in the revolution, ma foi! ven my countree, dat I love so much, vant to cut off my head, I take to my feet, and ran avay very fast; so dat de guillotine can no cut short my valk over de sea-not at all. Here I make de montre, vat you call de vatch. I am de horloger, de clock maker, and get de living by de tick. Mais dans Paris! In my own countree I vas very large man indeed, vas nobleman, vas son altesse de Prince Grenoble, and stood very high indeed (though I am but a little man now) in de grand armee royal.

De oder day, I vas valk in vat you call your High Park, vere dere are no bucks vid de horns, but de bucks dat come from de Londres de city, and leave dere vives to valk here. Vell, I vas valk derc, and see sit on de bench un pauvre homme.

I go to him, and I say to him-for I see, in de twinkle of de eye, he vas von Frenchman-vas my countreman—“ Mon ami, my friend, my countreman, for vat you sit on dis bench here? Vy you no go to de cook-shop, de restaurateur, vere dey eat de beef, and de mouton, and de sallad, and de pomme de terre ?"

He say to me, "I am brave François; I am jontilehomme; I am one of de first men in all France; but I am sans sous,

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point d'argent-I have not one single farthing dans tout le monde."

Den he show me his pockets filled vid very large holes, but noting else; but he appear very jonteel man for all dat; and all at once, immediately, directly, instamment, in de half second, I recollect to had seen him in Paris, dress in all de silver and de gold lace. I look at him again. Ma foi! he have no lace but de rags, and no silver but de grey hair dat grow out of de great hole in de crown of his hat, like you see de pigeon's claw out of de top of de pie; but he vas a very jonteel man for all dat!

He make de graceful bow to me; mon Dieu; his knee come out of de pantaloon, and I see his great toe look at me out of de end of his pump-but he vas a very jonteel man for all dat!

I say to him, my countryman, mon ami, no l'argent, no credit, no dinner, vat for you leave your logement den? vy you no take refreshment, de sleep in your bed!

He say to me, "Ah mon ami! I have no logement in bed; I lodge in de open air, vere I pay no rent, and I sleep here; de bench is my mattrass, and de tree dat hang over my head de curtain; but I am a very jonteel man for all dat!"

No logement, no bed! pauvre homme, my heart is all melt wid de great big pity for you, my friend, my countreman, I shall take you home to my maison, and give you de dinner and de sleep for de night; for though you have no money I see you are a very jonteel man for all dat. My landlady she is particular, she no like de stranger sleep in her domicile, so ve vill vate and get de bon appetite till it is dark-den you sall pull off you shoe, and ve vill steal up de stair, and nobody sall know ve are dere.

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Vell, ve valk under de tree, and talk, till at last it grow to de dark night-den ve steal home to my logement, and I de door vid de leetle key vat I had in my pocket; den I rub my shoe on de mat, and I leave de dirt-mon ami, my countreman, he rub his shoe on de mat, and he leave de sole dere-but he vas very jonteel for all dat!