Each leisure moment she employs,

To cultivate her mind;
She ties her apron on before—
And sometimes on behind.

Whenever she a shopping went,

She paid for what she bought;
In sleep she always shuts her mouth,
As every body ought.

Small faults she has, and who has not,
She strives them to reform;
When her toes are trampled upon—
She says "get off my corn!"

Accomplishments like these would make
A match for Count or Earl;
And all the neigbors say she is
A pattern of a girl.

SPECIMEN OF A SHREW.-ANON.

than taken our umbrella.

BAH! that's the third umbrella gone since Christmas. What were you to do! Why, let him go home in the rain, to be sure. I'm very certain there was nothing about him that .could spoil. Take cold, indeed! He does'nt look like one of the sort to take cold. Besides, he'd have better taken cold Do you hear the rain, Mr. Caudle? I say, do you hear the rain? And as I'm alive, if it is'nt St. Swithin's day! Do you hear it against the windows? Nonsense: you don't impose upon me; you can't be asleep with such a shower as that! Do you hear it, I say? Oh! you do hear it! Well, that's a pretty flood, I think, to last for six weeks. and no stirring all the time out of the house. Pooh! don't think me a fool, Mr. Caudle; don't insult me; he return the umbrella! Anybody would think you were born yesterday.

As

if anybody ever did return an umbrella! There: do you hear it? Worse and worse. Cats and dogs, and for six weeks : always six weeks; and no umbrella !

I should like to know how the children are to go to school to-morrow. They shan't go through such weather; I am determined. No; they shall stop at home and never learn anything, (the blessed creatures!) sooner than go and get wet! And when they grow up, I wonder who they 'll have to thank for knowing nothing: who, indeed, but their father. People who can't feel for their own children ought never to be fathers. But I know why you lent the umbrella: oh! yes, I know very well. I was going out to tea at dear mother's to-morrow: you knew that, and you did it on purpose. Don't tell me ; you hate me to go there, and take every mean advantage to hinder me. But don't you think it Mr. Caudle; no, sir; if it comes down in buckets full, I'll go all the more. No; and I won't have a cab! Where do you think the money's to come from? You've got nice high notions at that club of yours A cab, indeed! Cost me sixteen-pence! two-and-eight-pence; for there 's back again. Cabs, indeed! I should like to know who's to pay for 'em; for I'm sure you can't, if you go on as you do, throwing away your property, and beggaring your children, buying umbrellas!

?

Do you hear the rain, Mr. Caudle? I say, do you hear it? But I don't care—I'll go to mother's to-morrow-I will; and what's more I'll walk every step of the that will give me my death. it's you that's the foolish man. and with no umbrella, the wet's sure to give me a cold: it always does; but what do you care for that? Nothing at all. be laid up for what you care, as I dare say I shall; and a pretty doctor's bill there'll be. I hope there will. It will teach you to lend your umbrellas again. I shouldn't wonder if I caught my death: yes, and that's what you lent the umbrella for. Of course !

way; and you know Don't call me a foolish woman; You know I can't wear clogs;

I

may

Nice clothes I get, too, traipsing through weather like this. My gown and bonnet will be spoiled quite. Needn't I wear

'em then? Indeed, Mr. Caudle, I shall wear 'em. No, sir. I'm not going out a dowdy to please you or anybody else Gracious knows! it isn't often that I step over the thresh old-indeed, I might as well be a slave at once: better I should say; but when I do go out, Mr. Caudle, I choose to go as a lady. Oh! that rain-if it isn't enough to break in the windows.

Ugh! I look forward with dread for to-morrow! How I am to go to mother's I'm sure I can't tell, but if I die, I'll do it. No, sir; I won't borrow an umbrella: no; and you shan't buy one. (With great emphasis.) Mr. Caudle, if you bring home another umbrella, I'll throw it in the street.

Paying for new nozzles for Oh! it's all very well for you;

Ha! It was only last week I had a new nozzle put to that umbrella. I'm sure if I'd have known as much as I do now, it might have gone without one. other people to laugh at you! you can go to sleep. You've no thought of your poor patient wife, and your own dear children; you think of nothing but lending umbrellas!

Men, indeed!-call themselves lords of the creation! pretty lords, when they can't even take care of an umbrella!

I know that walk to-morrow will be the death of me, but that's what you want: then you may go to your club, and do as you like; and then nicely my poor dear children will be used; but then, sir, then you'll be happy. Oh! don't tell me! I know you will: else you'd never have lent the umbrella!

You have to go on Thursday about that summons; and, of course, you can't go. No, indeed: you don't go without the umbrella. You may lose the debt for what I care-it won't be so much as spoiling your clothes-better lose it; people deserve to lose debts who lend umbrellas!

And I should like to know how I'm to go to mother's without the umbrella. Oh don't tell me that I said I would go; that's nothing to do with it: nothing at all. She'll think I'm neglecting her; and the little money we 're shan't have at all:-because we 've no umbrella. The children, too!-(dear things!) they'll be sopping wet:

to have, we

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,-
Had got, for making spectacles, a fame,

Or, "helps to read," as, when they first were sold,
Was writ upon his glaring sign in gold;

And, for all uses to be had from glass,
His were allowed by readers to surpass.
There came a man into his shop one day-
"Are you the spectacle contriver, pray?"
"Yes sir," said he, "I can in that affair

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,Asked how he liked them. "Like 'em!-not a bit." "Then, sir, I fancy, if you please to try,

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?" "No! you great blockhead!-If I could, what need Of paying you for any helps to read?""

6

And so he left the maker in a heat,
Resolved to post him for an arrant cheat.

THE GRAHAM SYSTEM.-ANON.

OH! 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 place

When great reformers race, and none can stay 'em

Oh! 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;
Who proved that drink was never made to drink,
Nor food itself intended to be eaten—
That Heaven provided for our use, instead,
The sand and saw-dust which compose thy bread.
A startling truth!-we question while we stare-
A ling'ring doubt still haunts the imagination,
That God ne'er meant to stint us in our fare;

No doubt a prejudice of education;

For fact is fact this ought to make us humble-
Our brains confess it, though our stomachs grumble.

But why on us pursue thy cruel plan?

Oh, why condemn us thus to bread and water?