Sivut kuvina
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T HAT nightee teem he come chop-chop | Have got water, velly wide!"

One young man walkee, no can stop; Maskee, my must go top-side,
Maskee snow, maskee ice;

Top-side Galah!
He cally flag with chop so nice-

“Man-man" one girlee talkee he:
Top-side Galah! “What for you go top-side look—see?”
'He muchee solly: one piecee eye And one teem more he plenty cly,
Lookee sharp—so fashion-my; But allee teem walk plenty high-
He talkee large, he talkee stlong,

Top-side Galah!
Too muchee culio; allee same gong.-

“Take care t'hat spilum tlee, young man, Top-side Galah!

Take care t'hat ice, must go man-man."

One coolie chin-chin he good-night; 'Insidee house he can see light,

He talkee, “My can go all light "And evly loom got fire all light;

Top-side Galah! He lookee plenty ice more high,

T'hat young man die: one large dog see Insidee mout'h he plenty cly

Too muchee bobbly findee he,
Top-side Galah!

He hand b’long coldee, all same like ice, 'Ole man talkee, “No can walk,

He holdee flag, with chop so niceBimeby lain come, velly dark ;

Top-side Galah!



TONE day in summer's glow,

Not many years ago,
A little babe lay on my knee,

With rings of silken hair,

And fingers waxen fair,
Tiny and soft, and pink as pink

could be.

In sudden, strange surprise

We met each other's eyes,
Asking, “Who stole our pretty babe away ?"

We questioned earth and air,

But, seeking everywhere,
We never found it from that@ummer day.

We watched it thrive and grow

Ah me! We loved it so—
And marked its daily gain in sweeter charms ;

It learned to laugh and crow,

And play and kiss us—80—
Until one day we missed it from our arms.

But in its wonted place

There was another face-
A little girl's, with yellow curly hair

About her shoulders tossed;

And the sweet babe we lost
Seemed sometimes looking from her eyes so



Ah, Blue-eyes, do you see Who stole my babe from me, And brought the little girl from fairy clime? A gray old man with wings, Who steals all precious things; He lives forever, and his name is Time.

He rules the world they say; He took my babe away— My precious babe—and left me in its place This little maiden fair, With yellow curly hair, Who lives on stories, and whose name is Grace I


She dances, romps, and sings,
And does a hundred things
Which my lost baby never tried to do;
She longs to read in books,
And with bright eager looks
Is always asking questions strange and new.

And I can scarcely tell,
I love the rogue so well,
Whether I would retrace the four years'
And lose the merry sprite .
Who makes my home so bright
To have again my little baby back.


\SUR revels now are ended. These, our

Are melted into air—into thin air;


The cloud-capped towers, the gorgeous palaces,

s As I foretold you, were all spirits, and

And, like the baseless fabric of this


The solemn temples, the great globe itself, Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve, And, like this insubstantial pageant faded,

Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff

As dreams are made of, and our little life

Isrounded with sleep.





Time: half-past six o'clock. Place: The London Tavern. Occasion: Fifteenth Annual Festival of the Society for the Distribution of Blankets and Top-Boots among the Natives of the Cannibal Lslands.


AN entering the room we find more than two hundred noblemen and

gentlemen already assembled ; and the number is increasing every minute. The preparations are now complete, and we are in

readiness to receive the chairman. After a short pause, a little door at the end of the room opens, and the great man appears, attended I by an admiring circle of stewards and toadies, carrying white wands like a parcel of charity-school boys bent on beating the bounds. He advances smilingly to his post at the principal table, amid deafening and long-continued cheers.

The dinner now makes its appearance, and we yield up ourselves to the enjoyments of eating and drinking. These important duties finished, and grace having been beautifully sung by the vocalists, the real business of the evening commences. The usual loyal toasts having been given, the noble chairman rises, and after passing his fingers through his hair, places his thumbs in the armholes of his waistcoat, gives a short preparatory cough, accompanied by a vacant stare round the room, and commences as follows:

"My Lords and Gentlemen :-It is with feelings of mingled pleasure and regret that I appear before you this evening : of pleasure, to find that this excellent and world-wide-known society is in so promising a condition; and of regret, that you have not chosen a worthier chairman; in fact, one who is more capable than myself of dealing with a subject of such vital importance as this. (Loud cheers.) But, although I may be unworthy of the honor, I am proud to state that I have been a subscriber to this society from its commencement; feeling sure that nothing can tend more to the advancement of civilization, social reform, fireside comfort, and domestic economy among the Cannibals, than the diffusion of blankets and top-boots. (Tremendous cheering, which lasts for several minutes.) Here in this England of ours, which is an island surrounded by water, as I suppose you all know-or, as our great poet so truthfully and beautifully expresses the same fact, ‘England bound in by the triumphant sea'-what, down the long vista of years, have conduced more to our successes in arms, and arts, and song, than blankets? Indeed I never gaze upon a blanket without my thoughts reverting fondly to the days of my early childhood. Where should we all have been now but for those warm and fleecy coverings ?

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My Lords and Gentlemen! Our first and tender memories are all associated with blankets : blankets when in our nurses' arms, blankets in our cradles, blankets in our cribs, blankets to our French bedsteads in our school-days, and blankets to our marital four-posters now. Therefore, I say, it becomes our bounden duty as men—and, with feelings of pride, I add, as Englishmen-to initiate the untutored savage, the wild and somewhat uncultivated denizen of the prairie, into the comfort and warmth of blankets ; and to supply him, as far as practicable, with those reasonable, seasonable, luxurious and useful appendages. At such a moment as this, the lines of another poet strike familiarly upon the ear. Let me see, they are some thing like this-ah-ah

"Blankets have charms to soothe the savage breast,
And to-to do—a—"

I forget the rest. (Loud cheers.)

"My Lords and Gentlemen! I will not trespass on your patience by making any further remarks; knowing how incompetent I am-no, no! I don't mean that—knowing how incompetent you all are—no! I don't mean that either--but you all know what I mean. Like the ancient Roman lawgiver, I am in a peculiar position ; for the fact is I cannot sit down-I mean to say, that I cannot sit down without saying that, if there ever was an institution, it is this institution; and therefore, I beg to propose, ‘Prosperity to the Society for the Distribution of Blankets and Top-Boots among the Natives of the Cannibal Islands.'”

The toast having been cordially responded to, his lordship calls upon Mr. Duffer, the secretary, to read the report. Whereupon that gentleman, who is of a bland and oily temperament, and whose eyes are concealed by a pair of green spectacles, produces the necessary document, and reads in the orthodox manner

“Thirtieth Half-yearly Report of the Society for the Distribution of Blankets and Top-Boots to the Natives of the Cannibal Islands.”

The reading concluded, the secretary resumes his seat amid hearty applause which continues until Mr. Alderman Gobbleton rises, and, in a somewhat lengthy and discursive speech in which the phrases, 'the Corporation of the City of London,' 'suit and service,' 'ancient guild,' 'liberties and privileges,' and 'Court of Common Council,' figure frequentlystates that he agrees with everything the noble chairman has said ; anıl has, moreover, never listened to a more comprehensive and exhaustive document than the one just read ; which is calculated to satisfy even the most obtuse and hard-headed of individuals.


Gobbleton is a great man in the city. He has either been lord mayor, or sheriff, or something of the sort; and, as a few words of his go a long way with his friends and admirers, his remarks are very favorably received. “Clever man, Gobbleton | " says a common councilman, sitting near us, to his neighbor, a languid swell of the period. “Ya-as, vewy! Wemarkable style of owatowy—gweat fluency,” replies the other. But attention, if you please!—for M. Hector de Longuebeau, the great French writer, is on his legs. He is staying in England for a short time, to become acquainted with our manners and customs. “Milors and Gentlemans!" commences the Frenchman, elevating his eyebrows and shrugging his shoulders. “Milors and Gentlemans—You excellent chairman, M. le Baron de Mount-Stuart, he have to say to me, ‘Make de toast.' Den I say to him I have no toast to make; but he nudge my elbow very soft, and say dat dere is one toast dat nobody but von Frenchman can make proper; and, darefore, wid your kind permission, I will make de toast. ‘De brevete is de sole of de feet," as your great philosophere, Dr. Johnson, do say, in dat amusing little vork of his, de Pronouncing Dictionnaire; and, darefore, I will not say vermoch to de point. Wen I was a boy, about so moch tall, and used for to promenade the streets of Marseilles et of Rouen, vid no feet to put onto my shoe, I nevare to have expose dat dis day vould to have arrive. I was to begin de vorld as von garcon—or what you call in dis countrie von vaitaire in a cafe— vere I work ver hard, vid no habillements at all to put onto myself, and ver little food to eat, excep' von old bleu blouse vat was give to me by de proprietaire, just for to keep myself fit to be showed at; but, tank goodness, tings dey have change vermoch for me since dat time and I have rose myself, seulement par mon industrie et perseverance. (Loud cheers.) Ah! mes amis' ven I hear to myself de flowing speech, de oration magnifique of you Lor' Maire, Monsieur Gobbledown, I feel dat it is von great privilege for von stranger to sit at de same table, and to eat de same food, as dat grand, dat majestique man, who are de terreur of de voleurs and de brigands of de metropolis; and who is also, I for to suppose, a halterman and de chief of you common scoundrel. Milors and gentlemans, I feel dat I can perspire to no greatare honneur dan to be von common scoundrelman myself; but helas ! dat plassir are not for me, as I are not freeman of your great city, not von liveryman servant of von of you compagnies joint-stock. But I must not forget de toast. Milors and Gentlemans! De immortal Shakispeare he have write, ‘Deding of beauty are de joy for nevermore.' It is de ladies who are de toast. Wat is more en


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