Imatges de pàgina
PDF
EPUB
[ocr errors]

was raised and bred. Oh, philosophy is a foine study I don't know anything about it, but it's a foine study! Before I kim over I attended an important meetin' of philosophers in Dublin, and the discussin' and talkin' you'd hear there about the world 'ud warm the very heart of Socrates or Aristotle himself. Well, there was a great many imminent and learned min there at the meetin', and I was there too, and while we was in the very thickest of a heated argument, one comes to me and says he, "Do you know what we're talkin' about?” “I do,” says I, “ but I don't understand yees." "Could ye explain the sun's motion around the earth?" says he. "I could," says I, “but I'd not know could you understand or not." 'Well," says he, "we'll see," sayı he. Sure 'n I didn't know anything how to get out of it then, so I piled in, "for," says I to myself, "never let on to any one that you don't know anything, but make them bu lieve that you do know all about it." So says I to hira, takin' up me shillalah this way (holding a very crooked stick perpendicular), “We'll take that for the straight line of the earth's equator”-how's that for gehography? (to the audience.) Ah, that was straight till the other day I bent it in an argument. "Wery good," says he. now the sun rises in the east" (placing hand at the eastern end of the stick). Well, he couldn't deny that. "And when he gets up he

66

J

Darts his rosy beams

Through the mornin' gleams."

"Well," says I the disengaged

Do you moind the poetry there? (to the audience with a smile.) "And he keeps on risin' and risin' till he reaches his meriden." "What's that?" says he. "His dinner-toime," says I; "sure 'n that's my Latin for dinner-toime, and when he gets his dinner

He sinks to rest

Behind the glorious hills of the west."

Oh, begorra, there's more poetry! I fail it creepin' out all over me. "There," says I, well satisfied with myself; "will that do for ye?" "You haven't got done with him yet," says he. "Done with him," says I, kinder mad iike; "what more do you want me to do with him? Didn't I bring him from the east to the west? What more do you want?"

"Oh," says he," you'll have to bring him back again to the east to rise next mornin'." By Saint Patrick! and wasn't I near betrayin' me ignorance. Sure'n I thought there was a large family of suns, and they rise one after the other. But I gathered meself quick, and, says I to him, "well," says I, “I'm surprised you axed me that simple question. I thought any man 'ud know," says I," when the sun sinks to rest in the west-when the sun-" says I. "You said that before," says he. "Well, I want to press it stronger upon you," says I. "When the sun sinks to rest in the east-no-west, why he-why he waits till it grows dark, and then he goes back in the noight toime!"

THE SILENT TOWER OF BOTTREAUX.

The church at Bottreaux, in Cornwall, has no bells, while the neighboring wer of Tintagel contains a fine peal of six. It is said that a peal of bells for Lottreaux was once cast at a foundry on the Continent, and that the veel which was bringing them went down within sight of the church-tower.

Tintagel bells ring o'er the tide,

The boy leans on his vessel's side,

He hears that sound, while dreams of home
Soothe the wild orphan of the foam.

"Come to thy God in time,"

Thus said their pealing chime;

66

Youth, manhood, old age past,
Come to thy God at last.'

But why are Bottreaux's echoes still?
Her tower stands proudly on the hill,
Yet the strange chough that home hath found,
The lamb lies sleeping on the ground.

"Come to thy God in time,"

Should be her answering chime;
"Come to thy God at last,"

Should echo on the blast.

The ship rode down with courses free,
The daughter of a distant sea,

Her sheet was loose, her anchor stored,
The merry Bottreaux bells on board.
"Come to thy God in time,"
Rung out Tintagel chime;
"Youth, manhood, old age past,

Come to thy God at last."

The pilot heard his native bells

Hang on the breeze in fitful spells

"Thank God," with reverent brow, he cried,
"We make the shore with evening's tide."
"Come to thy God in time,"

It was his marriage chime;

66

Youth, manhood, old age past,
Come to thy God at last."

"Thank God, thou whining knave, on land,
But thank at sea the steersman's hand;"
The captain's voice rose o'er the gale,
'Thank the good ship and ready sail."
"Come to thy God in time,"

Sad grew the boding chime;
"Come to thy God at last,”
Boomed heavy on the blast.
Uprose that sea as if it heard
The mighty Master's signal word.
What thrills the captain's whitening lip?
The death groans of his sinking ship.
"Come to thy God in time,"

Swung deep the funeral chime;
"Grace, mercy, kindness past,
Come to thy God at last."

Long did the rescued pilot tell,
When gray hairs o'er his forehead fell,
While those around would hear and weep,
That fearful judgment of the deep.

"Come to thy God in time,"

He read his native chime;

[ocr errors]

Youth, manhood, old age past,
Come to thy God at last."

Still, when the storm of Bottreaux's waves
Is waking in his weedy caves,

Those bells, that sullen surges hide,
Peal their deep tones beneath the tide.

"Come to thy God in time,"

Thus saith the ocean chime;

66

Storm, whirlwind, billows past,
Come to thy God at last.”

RHYMERS.-SHAKSPEARE.

I had rather be a kitten, and cry, mew,
Than one of these same metre ballad-monger
I had rather hear a brazen canstick turned,

Or a dry wheel grate on an axletree;

And that would set my teeth nothing on edge, Nothing so much as mincing poetry:

Tis like the forced gait of a shuffling nag.

THE DOOR OF HEAVEN.

It was a fearful time when the steamboat Tyro was lost. It was long ago, and almost every one has forgotten it, except the few who had friends on it, and they are almost all gone. The Tyro was a small boat, and the passengers were few and poor, so it has passed from the public mind. All the day the bright sun had shone down on the peaceful lake, and every thing seemed safe and secure. The passengers had no thought of danger as the night came on.

A little boy kneeled down to say his evening prayers, and as he looked out and saw the western sky all aglow with the glory of the going day, he asked, Mamma, is that the door of heaven, with bright curtains all around it ?"

[ocr errors]

"Yes, my boy," said the mother, "heaven's doors are all around us."

“Well, that's the one I want to go in at, because it's the prettiest ;" and the child prayed his prayer and went to sleep.

It was never known how, whether the pilot went to sleep at his post, or the lights went out; but when midnight came there was a crash, a shiver, and cries of terror. The steamer had come in collision with a schooner and was fast sinking.

The little boy awoke. He cried, "Mamma, where are you?" and his mother's arms held him fast, even while they sank together in the dark waters.

They came to the surface, and the mother caught something floating, and held fast to it.

"Jamie, Jamie," she said, "hold me very tight."

"Mamma, are we going to heaven? I don't like this way-I'm afraid."

"Never fear, child; God will meet you." And with all her strength the mother lifted the child upon the floating bale, then dropped it, and went home through the floodgates below.

"Mamma, mamma! where are you?" cried Jamie; bu there came no answer. No one noticed the child afloat, for every one sought to save his own life; and the day was born,

ran its race, and was dying again, when Jamie floated on shore.

The little fellow was hungry, very hungry, but there again was the glorious golden gate of heaven, and Jamie thought it was wider even than the night before; and as soon as he could crawl from the bale to the land he began to run as fast as he could straight toward the west.

Jamie's feet tottered. He was too weak to run, so he walked straight on a long, long way, until the west began to grow dim in his sight.

Jamie saw a man coming toward him, but he did not stop. The man noticed that the child's clothes were wet, that he had been in the water, and he tried to stay him.

"Little boy, where are you going?" he asked.

"I can't stop now," said Jamie, “and I'm afraid the doors will be shut."

"Whose house, boy?"

“ "Why, God's beautiful house, to be sure! Don't you know it? It is heaven. See! It grows dark!" and Jamie made one more effort, and fell to the ground fainting with hunger.

The man lifted him up in his arms, and Jamie lisped, "Mamma said God would come to meet me," and then he fell asleep. When he awoke he found himself in a strange place, with strangers about him.

66

'Come, my darling, you must eat some of this," said a soft voice, and the light of the candle was carefully shaded from Jamie's eyes.

Jamie's last thought was of heaven, and his first question was, "Did I get there? Did He meet me?"

And a little girl, standing by the bed, answered: "Yes, little boy, father met you and brought you home."

"God's your father too, is he?" asked Jamie, not yet fully conscious of his present state; "then we'll both go home together."

Jamie recovered and grew to manhood; grew to a good and glorious manhood. He never looked upon the gorgeous purple, golden, and crimson glory of sunset without hearing again the words of his mother; "Yes, my boy, heaven's doors are all about us."

« AnteriorContinua »