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“ Noah of old three babies had,
Or grown-up children rather;
Now who was Japhet's father ?"
“I have it now," Hodge grinning cried,
“ I'll answer like a proctor ;
Why Tom Long Smith, the doctor.”
PAPER—A CONVERSATIONAL PLEASANTRY.-Franklin.
Some wit of old—such wits of old there were-
The thought was happy, pertinent, and true !
Various the papers, various wants produce ;
Mechanics, servants, farmers, and so forth,
The wretch whom avarice bids to pinch and spare,
Take next the miser's contrast; who destroys
The retail politician's anxious thought
The hasty gentleman, whose blood runs high,
What are our poets ? (take them as they fall-
Observe the maiden, innocently sweet!
One instance more, and only one, I'll bring !
Alas! what pity 'tis that regularity,
Like Isaac Shove's is such a rarity,
Termed-jolly dogs,-choice spirits-alias swine,
Making their throats a thoroughfare for wine.
These spendthrifts, who life's pleasures thus run on,
Dozing with headaches till the afternoon, Lose half men's regular estate of sun,
By borrowing too largely of the moon. One of this kidney, -Toby Tosspot hightWas coming from the Bedford late at night: And being Bacchi plenus,-full of wine,
Although he had a tolerable notion
Of aiming at progressive motion, 'Twasn't direct- 'twas serpentine. He worked with sinuosities, along, Like Monsieur Corkscrew, worming through a cork, Not straight, like Corkscrew's proxy, stiff Don Prong—a fork. At length, with near four bottles in his pate, He saw the moon shining on Shove's brass plate, When reading, “ Please to ring the bell,”
And being civil beyond measure,
I'll ring it with a deal of pleasure."
He waited full two minutes niore ;—and then,
I'll pull it for the gentleman again.” But the first peal ’woke Isaac in a fright,
Who, quick as lightning, popping up his head,
Sat on his head's antipodes, in bed, Pale as a parsnip,-bolt upright. At length, he wisely to himself doth say,calming his fears, “ Tush! 'tis some fool has rung and run away;' When peal the second rattled in his ears ! Shove jumped into the middle of the floor;
And, trembling at each breath of air that stirred, He groped down stairs, and opened the street-door,
While Toby was performing peal the third.
And saw he was a strapper stout and tall,
Says Toby,—“I want nothing, sir, at all.”
“Want nothing -Sir, you've pulled my bell, I vow,
“I pulled it, sir, at your desire."
“At mine!"_“Yes, yours; I hope I've done it well;
High time for bed, sir: I was hastening to it; But if you write up— Please to ring the bell,'
Common politeness makes me stop and do it."
Frank Hayman dearly loved a pleasant joke,
And after long contention with the gout,
A foe that oft besieged him, sallied out To breathe fresh air, and appetite provoke.
It chanced as he was strolling void of care,
Dangling behind in piteous plight,
Making the most of every mile,
As if each moment taking flight.
A dog who saw the man's condition,
A lean and hungry politician,
A sly and subtle chap,
Ready to snap
The porter staggered on, the dog kept near,
Watching each lucky moment for a bite,
While Hayman followed, tittering at the sight.
Then 'gainst a cask in solemn thought reclined; The watchful dog the happy moment knows,
And Hayman cheers him on not far behind.
Encouraged thus—what dog would dare refrain ?
Nor thought of asking-“what's to pay ?"
Not so unfashionably good,
And made a stand.
His mirth up to the brim;
I've got a hare for him !"
CHRISTMAS TIMES.—Anonymous. 'Twas the night before Christmas, when all thro' the house Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse. The stockings were hung by the chimney with care, In the hope that St. Nicholas* soon would be there. The children were nestled all snug in their beds, While visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads, And mamma in her kerchief, and I in my cap, Had just settled our brains for a long winter's nap; When out on the lawn there rose such a clatter, I sprang
from the bed to see what was the matter. Away to the window I flew like a flash, Tore open the shutters, and threw up the sash.
* Santa Claus.