Digit. I perceive you are a novice in this sublime science. The object is, to find a square which shall be equal to a given circle, which I have done, by a rule drawn from the radii of the circle and the diagonal of the square. And, by my rule, the area of the square will equal the area of the circle.

Sesquipedalia. Your terms are to me incomprehensible. Diagonal is derived from the Greek-di-a and gone, that is, through the corner." But I don't see what it has to do with a circle; for, if I understand aright, a circle, like a sphere, has no corners.

Digit. You appear to be very ignorant of the science of numbers. Your life must be very insipidly spent in poring over philosophy and the dead languages. You never tasted, as I have, the pleasure arising from the investigation of an insoluble problem, or the discovery of a new rule in quadratic equa

tions.

Sesquipedalia. Po! po! [Turns round in disgust, and hits. Digit with his cane.] Digit. Oh, you villain! Sesquipedalia. I wish, sir

Digit. And so do 1 wish, sir, that that cane was raised to the fourth power, and laid over your head as many times as there are units in a thousand. Oli! oh!

Sesquipedalia. Did my cane come in contact with the sphere of repulsion around your shin? I must confess, sir [Enter Trill.] Oh, Jere is Mr. Morrell. Salve,

Jomine! sir, your most obedient.

Trill. Which of you, gentlemen, is Mr. Morrell?

Sesquipedalia, Oh, neither, sir. I took you for that gentleman.

Trill. No, sir, I am a teacher of music. Flute, harp, viol, violin, violoncello,* organ, or any thing of the kind, any instrument you can mention. I have just been displaying my powers at a concert, and come recommended to the patronage of Mr. Morrell.

Sesquipedalia. For the same purpose are that gentleman and myself here.

Digit. [Still rubbing his shin.] Oh! oh! Tral. Has the gentleman the gout? I have heard of its being cured by music. Shall I sing you a tine? Hem! Hem! Far

Digit. No, no I want none of your tunes. I'd make that philosopher sing though, and dance too, if he hadn't inade a vulgar fruction of my leg.

Pronounced VF-O LOX-CHEL-0.

Sesquipedalia. In veritate; that is, in truth, it happened forte; that is, by chance. Trill. [Talking to himself.] If B be flat, me is in E.

Digit. Ay, sir, this is only an integral part of your conduct, ever since you came into this house. You have continued to multiply your insults in the abstract ratio of a geometrical progression, and at last have proceeded to violence. The dignity of Archimedes Digit never experienced such a reduction descending, before.

Trill. [To himself.] Twice faw, sol, law, and then comes me again.

Digit. If Mr. Morrell does not admit me soon, I'll leave the house, while my head is on my shoulders.

Trill. Gentlemen, you neither keep time nor chord. But if you can sing, we may carry a trio before we go.

Sesquipedalia. Can you sing an ode of Horace or Anacreon. I should like to bear one of them.

Digit. I had rather hear you sing a demonstration of the forty-seventh proposition, first book.

Trill. I never heard of those composers, sir; where do they belong?

Sesquipedalia. They did belong to Italy and Greece.

Trill. Ah! Italy! there are our best masters-Correlli, Morrelli, and Fuseli. Can you favor me with their compositions?

Sesquipedalia. Oh, yes, if you have a taste that way, I can furnish you with them, and with Virgil, Sallust, Cicero, Cæsar, Quintilian; and I have an old Greek Lexicon that I can

spare.

Trill. Ad libitum, my dear sir; they will make a handsome addition to my musical library,

Digit. But, sir, what pretensions have you to the patronage of Mr. Morrell? I don't believe you can square the circle.

Sesquipedalia. Nor prove the infinite divisibility of matter.

Trill. Pretensious, sir! I have gained a victory over the great Tantamarrarra, the new opera singer, who pretended to vie with me. Twas in the symphony of Handel's Oratorio of Saul, where, you know, every thing depends upon the tempo giusto, and where the primo should proceed in smorzando, and the secondo in agitato. But he was on the third leger line. I was an octave below, when, with a sudden appoggiatura, I rose to D in alt., and couquered him.

[Enter Drone] Drone. My master says how he will wait on you, gentlemen.

Digit. What is your name, sir? Drone. Drone, at your service. Digit. No no; you need not drone at my service. A very applicable name, however. Sesquipedalia. Drone? That is derived from the Greek draon, flying or moving swiftly.

Trill. He rather seems to move in andant measure; that is, to the tune of Old Hundred Drone. Very likely, gentlemen.

Digit. Well, as I came first, I will enter first.

Sesquipedalia. Right. You shall be the autecedent, I the subsequent, and Mr. Trill the consequent.

Trill. Right. I was always a man of consequence. Faw, sol, law; Faw, sol, &c. &c. [Singing as he goes out.] (F. F. D)

756. PRECISENESS.-MR. AND MRS. QUIDDLE. Mr. Quiddle. My dear, notwithstanding all I have said, Molly has boiled one potatoe more than I directed to-day.

Mrs. Quiddle. Mr. Quiddle should have attended to this great concern himself.

Mr. Quiddle. No, my dear, it is your duty to do so; and though it pains me to complain of any neglect of yours, a sense of duty compels me to say, that the last quarter of a pound of tea has disappeared much too rapidly. There were twenty-five thimblefuls, and we have made tea but twenty four times, by my memorandum.

Ms. Quiddle. Indeed, Mr. Quiddle, you calculate very closely. Perhaps Molly's thimble is larger than yours; but I do not think the matter worth a moment's consideration.

Mr. Quiddle. Aye, there lies your error. No man can be exact in great things who does not attend to/rifles. A'oms constitute worlds, my dear, and give a form to them. Aud, now I think of it, you gave Joseph seven spoonfuls of soup to day, when. you know, I never allow him but sic.

Mrs. Quiddle. He was very hungry, and one spoonful could not hurt him.

Mr. Quiddle. That is a fatal mistake, my

dear.

Mrs. Quiddle. Why, how do you know so exactly how many spoonfuls our boy can contain?

Mr. Qiddle. My father never allowed his children but six, or six and a half, at the

utmost.

Mrs. Quiddle. And your stomach is to regulate Joseph's! Well, poor boy! I do not blame him for disliking you.

Mr. Quidule. The welfare of my child must be consulted, even if at the expense of his affection. Now, do not love to find fault, but I observed that he did not change his shoes this morning. I never wore the same shoe on one foot two days in succession, in my life; it runs them down to the heel.

Mrs. Quiddle. I fear that your precision will so disgust Joseph, that he will rush to the other extreme; for I have often noticed, that children who are denied all reasonable indul gences are apt to become licentious.

Mr. Quiddle. Joseph must be looked after. I intend, immediately, to send him to another school.

Mrs. Quiddle. Why so, my dear? I thought Mr. B. was an excellent teacher.

Mr. Quiddle. He may be so, but he is not particular enough for our Joseph. Why, I understand, he allows his pupils a recess of ten minutes, and even plays with them himself! My master allowed but five minutes' recess, and would as soon have died as stoop to play

with us. Besides, I think he does not shape

the tail of his G s as I should.

Mrs Quiddle. Perhaps, if you were to mention these important objections to Mr. B., he would obviate them at once For my part. I wish the recess was licice as long. As to the letter G, I did not know that its tail had any precise length.

Mr. Quiddle. You have much to learn Mrs. Quiddle. By the way, I noticed, to-day. that Joseph called you mother, and you did not reprimand him.

Mrs. Quiddle. Reprimand him!

Mr. Quiddle. Such familiarity will lessen, if not destroy, your authority over him. If he were to call me father, I should chastise him.

Ms. Quiddle. Poor boy! there is no fear of his being chastised, then; for he does not feel towards you as if you were his father.

Mr. Quiddle. I like to preserve a wholesome distance, that he may pay me proper respect.

Mrs. Quiddle. The respect of fear cannot be relied on; and such overnicety

Mr. Quiddle. Do you know that, to what you call my overnicety, I owe all my health and wealth?

Mrs. Quiddie. I know. that, to preserve your health, you have sacrificed the happiness, and to accumulate your wealth, you have forfeited the respect, of all around you. Mr. Quiddle. Can it be that you are serious?

Mrs. Quiddle. I never was more so. I have told you the truth, at the risk of your displeasure.

Mr. Quiddle. Well, wel!-if it is so bad as that, I must alter my conduct. I will do so from this moment. [Stoops and picks up a pin] There, this is the fifth pin, besides a headless oue, that I have picked up to-day! But, as I was saying, I intend to reform. Oh, if you send Joseph to the shop, tell him not to give fourpence half penny for six cents; for you know, my dear, it is six cents and a quarter.-I certainly must watch my conduct.

But where is dinner? It is more than a minute after the time. My dear, do see to it.There is another pin! Well, it is amazing to me how careless some folks are! Mrs. Quiddle. tell Molly to bring her thimble to me, that I may see whether it holds more than mine!I must think of what you told me.

757. THE VILLAGE SCHOOL. CHARACTERS.

(F. F. D.)

Mrs. WEATHERBOX. the Teacher. SUSANNA, an Orphan that she has taken to bring up. PupilsCATHARINE RICH, LUCY HEART, MARIA SMALL, SARAH Ross, ABBA MIX, ISABEL FOX, MARY SPARE, JANE SMITH, FANNY MILLS, MARTHA WELLS; other smaller Scholars, also.

[The scene represents a school room, with desks, benches, &c. The scholars are talking together, and waiting for the teacher's arrival.]

Catharine. I GUESS, Susanna, your ugly old aunt is taking a nap after dinner, she inakes it so late. Had she something uncommonty nice for dinner?

Susanna. She had a chicken, I believe; | but she gave me a long task, and told me to stay here till I had done it.

Catharine. She did that to prevent your having any of the chicken-a stingy old thing! Susanna. I cannot believe that she would be so selfish and unjust.

Lucy. Why, I am sure it is just of a piece with all her conduct towards you. She never gives you any thing fit to wear; and much as ever she alters her old, cast off rags, when she turns them over to you.

Susanna. But she took me, when no one else in the world would have done so; and I hope to get a tolerable education under her care, although she is not always so kind to ine as I try to deserve.

Lucy. You are too good by half, Susanna; and I dare say now, you are half starved, while that selfish old creature is so full she ean do nothing but sleep. Here, take this apple. I have had my dinner, and don't want it.

Susanna. Ithank you, Lucy; but my aunt told me I must not eat any thing till I had done my task

Lucy. You must take it, my dear girl, or I shall be affronted. Your aunt only meant, that you must not eat any food that cost her any thing.

Susanna. Well, I will eat it; for I am really faint.

Catharine. There she comes! I see her oid cap. Look out, girls! Run to your seats, or you'll get it.

The scholars all run, and sit as if afraid.] Enter Mrs. Weatherbox, fanning herself, and looking very cross.] Mrs. Weatherbox. Susanna, how dare you eat that apple?

Susanna. I did not think you would object, ma'am; it was a present from one of the scholars.

Mrs. Weatherbox. Present, indeed! I should like to see how a present tastes. It does one's heart good to have a present now-adays; but the time was, when I had a present every day. [To Susanna.] Your apple is forfeited, miss. [She takes it away, and begins to eat it herself.] Resume your seat, miss. Let the first class in reading come up. [She unlocks the drawer of her table, while six stand up, three on each side of her.

Mrs. Weatherbor. Maria Small, begin at the 45th page, "On the Beauties of Nature."

[Mrs. Weatherbox's head begins to fall, as if she was sleepy. Catharine gives a sign to Maria to leave off reading, and she herself begins, but only makes a humming noiseUm, um, um, um, &c. Mrs. Weatherbox, in the mean time, lets her book fall from one hand, and the apple from the other, and her head falls on her shoulder.]

Lucy. [Going close up, and looking to see if she is actually asleep.] Hush, girls! let her get well asleep before you stir.

Some move about on tiptoe, and all whisper.]

Sarah. I mean to rummage the old lady's drawer, and see what she has stolen from the scholars. [She opens the table drawer and all the scholars crowd round. Sarah says.] Here's your cup and ball, Lucy. Now take it, and hide it. Jane Smith, here is your picture. book. She has been reading it first, to see whether it is a suitable book for you to read. Mary Spare, here is your cake, that she was afraid would hurt you. Little girls' stomachs, like ours, cannot bear any rich food, you know; and so she eats it for us!

Lucy. Here is her old sauff box. Why is not snuff as good as pepper and mustard, that she loves so dearly? [She sprinkles some snuff on the apple, and lays it on the table, and says,] There, Susanna, she shall pay for robbing you, if she eats any more of her plunder.

Abba. Here is the fool's cap. Come, girls, let's see if it becomes ma'am as well as it does the rest of us. [She puts it upon Mrs. Weatherbox's head. She then doubles her fist in the old lady's face, and says,] Eh! you ugly old thing! I'd put a pipe in your mouth, if it wouldn't wake you up!

[Isabel Fox puts on the old lady's spectacles and, calling two or three very small girl around her, pretends to keep school, mimicking the old lady.]

Catharine. Oh, here is her precious memo randum-book! Come, girls, now for a treat! They say she writes all her secrets here. Let's see. Here is a memorandum of what she intends to say at mother's party, to-night. I have heard that she always studies, beforehand, some smart speeches. Now let's see.

Susanna. Miss Catharine, I beg you not to read that book. It is dishonorable to read any writing that is not intended to be seen.

Catharine. She has read my billets a hundred times; and tit for tat, I say.

Susanna Let me entreat you to put back the memorardum-book.

Maria. O. P. Q., ma'am.

Mrs Weatherbox. Opaque, you mean. The word means dark; and, dear me, how dark the room is! [She gapes again] I guess my specs want wiping. Go on with your reading. [She wipes her spectacles.] Maria. 44 Although the moon we behold is an opaque body, still its surface is rendered visible to us, by the reflection of the sun's light."

Susanna. Excuse me; I am unwilling to do any thing while my aut is asleep, that I would not attempt if she were awake

Lucy. You are altogether too scrupulous, Suzy, dear. Do not try to make us believo you feel any great respect for such a cross old

crone as this.

[The old lady moves one arm and Sarah Ross says,] Sarah. Hush! she is waking.

your lives.

Run for

nioves.

Catharine. Well, my dear girl, stand and watch her, then, and give us a hint if she Now for it! Reads.] "Memorandums for Mrs. Rich's tea-party. To stir my tea a long time, that I may say to my next neighbor, I like to have all the composite parts of my beverage both saturated and coagulated.""

"To fan myself, that I may say, 'How sweetly the zephyrs of Boreas temper the beat of Phoebus!""

"To tell the story of the man who ran his bend against a shop-shade, and said, haltstunned by the blow, What is that?' That is a conjunction,' said a school-boy, who was passing."

"To speak French as often as I can, not forgetting to mention the eclaw of Mrs. Rich's carriage; to allude to the fox-paw of Colonel Trip, and the na-vette of Miss Catharine. If no one leads me to the table, to say, Shakun power soy."

Susanna. Hush! hush! she is waking! Mrs. Weatherbox begins to move a little and Catharine shuts the book, and says to Susanna,]

Catharine. Pray, pray, put it into the drawer instantly. Run all, for your lives, to your seats.

One little girl stumbles over a cricket, and makes so much noise, that Mrs. Weatherbox awakes. The six readers stand in their places. Mrs. Weatherbox starts up, rubs her eyes, and says,]

Airs. Weatherbox. What's that noise? Dear me! I was beginning to lose myself. Maria, my dear, finish the sentence you were reading.

Catharine. I hope, ma'am, you will give as some merits for keeping so still while you were taking your nap.

I have been no more

What do you mean? asleep than you have. Isabel. Then how did you lose your spectacles, ma'am without knowing it?

Mrs. Weatherbox. I mark Miss Fox for

impertinence. Go on with your reading. Maria [Maria reads, and while she is doing so, Mrs. Weatherbox bites the apple, and begins to make faces and spit She then says,] What's this? Snuff? snuff? snuff on my apple? Who put snuff on my apple?

Lucy. Who could do so, ma'am, and you all the time awake, and looking on?

Catharine. Perhaps the apple touched your snuff box, ma'am. Poor Susan did not have a chance to see whether it tasted of snuff before you took it away from her.

Mrs. Weatherbox. 1 mark Miss Rich for talking unnecessarily. Go on with your reading, Maria. [Maria reads a few words, and Mrs. Weatherbox opens her drawer, and, sceing the confusion, says,] My stars! who bas dared to touch my drawer! Somebody, I see. has been here! Where is my memorandum book? Has any one dared to touch it! Susanna, where is my memorandum-book! [Susanna hides her face in her work, but does not answer. Mrs. Weatherbox rises, seizes her by the arm, and says,] Now look me tuil in the face, and say you did not take that memorandum book out of my drawer! Speak out, speak loud!

Susanna. I did not, I did not, indeed!

Mrs. Weatherbox. I do not believe you, and shall make bold to search you. [She thrusts her hands into Susanna's pocket, and draws out the memorandum-book, and holds it up, saying, (You did not take it, hey? You did not take it? What do you say now?

Susanna. [Sobbing.] I did not take it from the drawer, ma'ain.

Mrs. Weatherbox. Then you know who did. So tell me this instant. [Susanna does not answer.] I know, then, you took it yourself; it is exactly like you.

Susanna. Oh, aunt! it is not like me to do such a thing.

Mrs. Weatherbox. Not another word! I shall believe you did it, till you can prove your innocence by pointing out the culprit. But I am certain it was yourself, and I shall punish you accordingly. I suppose you have taken care to read every word of it?

Susanna. I really did not read one line of it.

Mrs. Weatherbox. You did not read it? Then why did you steal it? I'll punish you to your heart's content. You shall be shut up in this room for a week, and shall have only bread and water, and a short allowance of even that; and you shall sew on that hard linen from morning till night, I promise you. Girls, you may all go home; school is dis missed.

Susanna sits and sobs as she works.]

Mrs. Weatherbox. There, now do not stir till I come back! Leave off crying, and mind your sewing. I shall not see you till morning Susanna. Aunt, I assure you that I ain innocent

Catharine. And yet you submit to it. Susanna. I have no home but this. Catharine. I will lend you one, for one night, at least. My dear girl, you shall suffer no more for my wickedness. It is my offence that you are to be punished for, and I am determined to undergo the penalty myself. Now put my shawl and bonnet on yourself, and go home, and tell my parents that I have changed beds with you for one night. Leave me here, and return in the morning.

Susanna. You are not used to suffering, and I am used to nothing else.

Catharine. I am determined, and you must submit. There-don't speak. [Putting on her things. There-go and enjoy, for one night, at least. a happy home.

Susanna. What do you intend to do? Catharine. No matter. Leave it to me. Go now, or your aunt may return and prevent

Mrs. Weatherbor. Highty-tighty! [Seizing her arm, and twitching her up on her fee!.] Catharine Touch me, if you dare, madam! Your persecuted prisoner has escaped.

Mrs Weatherbox. Catharine Rich! What does this mean, miss?

Catharine. It means, madam. that I could Tot bear to see your innocent victim suffering for me; and I have persuaded her to take shelter with my parents, and leave me to be punished, if you dare to touch me. I took the inemorandum-book from your drawer, when you were asleep, sound asleep; in consequence of eating your own portion of chicken and hers also. She took it from me to restore it to you; but you awoke before she had an opportunity to do so. The generous girl preferred to suffer, rather than to expose me. I know the respect which is due from pupils to their teachers;

but, madam, pupils have rights, and teachers most respect them, if they wish to be respected. Susanna is beyond your reach. and I am in your power. Punish me, if you think I deserve it, for anticipating the wit you intended to let me share freely at my mother's tea-party. The memorandum will do yet; for I have not repeated the conjunction story, nor the French, to any soul living.

Mrs. Weatherbor. Go home, miss, and tell Susanna to come back immediately. Catharine. Say you pardon her, then. Mrs. Weatherbox. 1 do. Catharine. Say you will love and treat her well, as she deserves, poor girl!

Mrs. Weatherbox. I will. I am too much mortified to be angry; and, for the first time in my life, I am ready to confess to my pupils that I am in the wrong. Oh, how much happiness I have lost in the foolish attempt to make my pupils believe that my judgment and conduct were always right! My dear girl, you have set me a lesson to-day, that I will never be forgotten. [Looking at the audience.] It is singular, that taking a nap should open my eyes so wide.

758. THE DEBATING CLUB.

THE PRESIDENT, MR. BUNKER, MR. KING, MR. BULL, MR. VERNON, MR. SLOWMATCH, MR. STEAMER, MB. BRANDYWINE, MR. YORK, MONS. BONJOUR, MR. MITTIMUS, MR. SLACK, MR. FAIRSIDE, SECRETARY.

The President and Secretary sitting at atable,

and the other members seated around.} President. GENTLEMEN, the ordinary business of the club having been performed, the next business in order will be the regular debate. If you will give your attention, gentlemen, the Secretary will read trom the records the question to be discussed.

Secretary. [Reads.] The subject proposed for discussion, at the next meeting, is, Which was the greater man, Washington or Lafayette?' On the side of Washington, Messrs. Bunker, King, Bull, Vernon, Slowmatch, and Steamer, were appointed; and, on the other side, Messrs. Brandywine. York. Fairside, Bonjour, Mittimus. and Slack. It was also voted, that the next meeting should be holden at Hall, that the numerous friends of the members might hear the dis cussion without inconvenience.

Attest, JOHN SCRIP, Secretary." President. You have heard the record, gentlemen; and, if no objection is made, the regular discussion of the proposed question will commence.

Mr. Slack. Mr. President!

President. Mr. Slack, gentlemen.

Mr. Slack. [Very rapidly.] Mr. President I rise, sir, to say that, as every member, probably, has a desire to say something upon the subject to be discussed this evening, and some folks have not any too much control over their tongues, it will be but fair that no member be allowed to speak more than five minutes at one time. I have no fear but what I shall get my share of the time; but I speak for the sake of others, sir, who may not be so fortunate; those, sir, who, like the lame man at Bethesda, wish to get into the troubled