THE REMOVAL. A NERVOUS old gentleman, tired of trade,— By which, though, it seems, he a fortune had made,— Took a house 'twixt two sheds, at the skirts of the town, Which he meant, at his leisure, to buy and pull down. This thought struck his mind when he viewed the estate; At six in the morning, their anvils, at work, From morning till night they keep thumping away,- He offered each Vulcan to purchase his shop; He cried, "I'll give each fifty guineas to move." 'Agreed!" said the pair; "that will make us amends." "Then come to my house, and let us part friends: You shall dine; and we'll drink on this joyful occasion, That each may live long in his new habitation." He gave the two blacksmiths a sumptuous regale,― He spared not provisions, his wine, nor his ale; So much was he pleased with the thought that each guest Would take from him noise, and restore to him rest. "And now," said he, "tell me, where mean you to move,— I hope to some spot where your trade will improve?" "Why, sir,” replied one, with a grin on his phiz, "Tom Forge moves to my shop, and I move to his !" [Anonymous. HISTORY OF JOHN DAY. JOHN DAY, he was the biggest man With back too broad to be conceived The very horses knew his weight, Alas! against the shafts of love What armor can avail? Soon Cupid sent an arrow through His scarlet coat of mail. The bar-maid of "The Crown" he loved, For, though he changed his horses there, He thought her fairest of all fares, And often among twelve outsides, One day as she was sitting down He came and knelt, with all his fat, Said she, "My taste will never learn So I must beg you will come here But still he stoutly urged his suit, With vows, and sighs, and tears; In vain he wooed,-in vain he sued,- He fretted all the way to Stroud, At last her coldness made him pine But still he loved like one resolved "O Mary! view my wasted back, Alas! in vain, he still assailed, Worn out, at last he made a vow, At nothing he could shrink. Now, some will talk in water's praise, But John, though he drank nothing else, The cruel maid, that caused his love, For looking in the butt, she saw The butt-end of his woes. Some say his spirit haunts the Crown; But that is only talk; For after riding all his life, His ghost objects to walk. THE ALARMED SKIPPER. MANY a long, long year ago, of finding out, though "lying low," How near New York their schooners ran. They greased the lead before it fell, And then, by sounding through the night, A skipper gray, whose eyes were dim, Snug in his berth, at eight o'clock, The watch on deck would now and then Run down and wake him, with the lead; How many miles they went ahead. One night, 't was Jotham Marden's watch, 66 "We're all a set of stupid fools, To think the skipper knows by tasting And so he took the well-greased lead, “Where are we now, sir? Please to taste.” The skipper stormed, and tore his hair, Thrust on his boots, and roared to Marden,— "Nantucket's sunk, and here we are Right over old Marm Hackett's garden!" THE THREE BLACK CROWS. [J. T. Field. Two honest tradesmen meeting in the Strand, |