I gather for use, and replenish my bags With things that are really a comfort and blessing, - The Monkey's reply for I must, if I 'm able, That I wonder, whenever I chance to inspect them, 4. THE RICH MAN AND THE POOR. - Translated, by Dr. Bowring, from the Russian of Khemnitzer. So goes the world; if wealthy, you may call This friend, that brother, friends and brothers all; You seek respect, no doubt, and you will find it. - 'T is all in vain ; the world will ne'er inquire Witty and wise; he paid a man a visit, Strange!" cried I; "whence is it?" Said, by their silence, "Better stay at home." As Croesus rich, I 'm sure He could not pride himself upon his wit; He had what 's better, he had wealth, What a confusion! - all stand up erect; And these arrange a sofa or a chair, "Allow me, Sir, the honor!"- then a bow And to himself he said, "This is, indeed, beyond my comprehension!" Then looking round, One friendly face he found, And said, "Pray tell me, why is wealth preferred To wisdom?". "That's a silly question, friend!” Replied the other; "have you never heard, A man may lend his store Of gold or silver ore, But wisdom none can borrow, none can lend?" 5. WHITTLINGA YANKEE PORTRAIT. — Rev. J. Pierpont. THE Yankee boy, before he 's sent to school, No little part that implement hath had. Projectiles, music, and the sculptor's art, His wind-mill, raised the passing breeze to win, Or, if his father lives upon the shore, You'll see his ship, "beam ends upon the floor," Thus, by his genius and his jack-knife driven Cut a canal, or build a floating-dock, Make it, said I?. Ay, when he undertakes it, And when the thing is made,—whether it be 6. CITY MEN IN THE COUNTRY.-Oliver Wendell Holmes. COME back to your mother, ye children, for shame, Come out from your alleys, your courts, and your lanes, Come you of the law, who can talk, if you please, Ye healers of men, for a moment decline While you shut up your turnpike, your neighbors can go You clerk, on whose ears are a couple of pens, Poor drudge of the city! how happy he feels. No constable grumbling, "You must n't walk there!" In yonder green meadow, to Memory dear, He slaps a mosquito and brushes a tear; The dew-drops hang round him on blossoms and shoots, There stands the old school-house, hard by the old church; O, sweet were the days of his juvenile tricks, Though the prairie of youth had so many "big licks!" By the side of yon river he weeps and he slumps, With a glow in his heart and a cold in his head. "Tis past, he is dreaming, — I see him again; The ledger returns as by legerdemain ; His neckcloth is damp with an easterly flaw, He dreams the chill gust is a blossomy gale, O, what are the prizes we perish to win, Then come from all parties, and parts, to our feast; And the best of old-water- at nothing a glass. 7. FUSS AT FIRES. - - Anonymous. Ir having been announced to me, my young friends, that you were about forming a fire-company, I have called you together to give you such directions as long experience in a first-quality engine company qualifies me to communicate. The moment you hear an alarm of fire, scream like a pair of panthers. Run any way, except the right way, - for the furthest way round is the nearest way to the fire. If you happen to run on the top of a wood-pile, so much the better; you can then get a good view of the neighborhood. If a light breaks on your view, "break" for it immediately; but be sure you don't jump into a bow window. Keep yelling, all the time; and, if you can't make night hideous enough yourself, kick all the dogs you come across, and set them yelling, too; 't will help amazingly. A brace of cats dragged up stairs by the tail would be a "powerful auxiliary." When you reach the scene of the fire, do all you can to convert it into a scene of destruction. Tear down all the fences in the vicinity. If it be a chimney on fire, throw salt down it; or, if you can't do that, perhaps the best plan would be to jerk off the pump-handle and pound it down. Don't forget to yell, all the while, as it will have a prodigious effect in frightening off the fire. The louder the better, of course; and the more ladies in the vicinity, the greater necessity for "doing it brown." Should the roof begin to smoke, get to work in good earnest, and make any man "smoke" that interrupts you. If it is summer, and there are fruit-trees in the lot, cut them down, to prevent the fire from roasting the apples. Don't forget to yell! Should the stable be threatened, carry out the cowchains. Never mind the horse, he 'll be alive and kicking; and if his legs don't do their duty, let them pay for the roast. Ditto as to the hogs; let them save their own bacon, or smoke for it. When the roof begins to burn, get a crow-bar and pry away the stone steps; or, if the steps be of wood, procure an axe and chop them up. Next, cut away the wash-boards in the basement story; and, if that don't stop the flames, let the chair-boards on the first floor share a similar fate. Should the "devouring element " still pursue the "even tenor of its way," you had better ascend to the second story. Pitch out the pitchers, and tumble out the tumblers. Yell all the time! If you find a baby abed, fling it into the second story window of the house across the way; but let the kitten carefully down in a work-basket. Then draw out the bureau drawers, and empty their contents out of the back window; telling somebody below to upset the slop-barrel and rain-water hogshead at the same time. Of course, you will attend to the mirror. The further it can be thrown, the more pieces will be made. If anybody objects, smash it over his head. Do not, under any circumstances, drop the tongs down from the second story: the fall might break its legs, and render the poor thing a cripple for life. Set it straddle of your shoulders, and carry it down carefully. Pile the bed-clothes carefully on the floor, and throw the crockery out of the window. By the time you will have attended to all these things, the fire will certainly be arrested, or the building be burnt down. In either case, your services will be no longer needed; and, of course, you require no further directions. 8. ONE STORY 'S GOOD TILL ANOTHER IS TOLD. Charles Swain. THERE's a maxim that all should be willing to mind: And no worse for the heart, if remembered at home! That "one story 's good till another is told!" |