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An impediment hinders my speakin'

As I should admire to do;
As an elocutin' perfessor

My scholars would likely be few;
But she said, when I mentioned it to her,

Why, dear, don't you fret, for, you see,
You tell me you love me, my darling,

And your voice is like inusic to me.”
I was never indicted for intellect,

Nor never arrested for cheek;
But I'm holdin' my head elevated

Since Thursday night was a week;
For that was the date when Belinda

Allowed she was partial to me,
And give me a relish for livin',

And a notion of workin' for 'she.
She isn't egzackly a beauty,

And also she uses a crutch;
But the eyes of that dear little cripple

The heart of an oyster would touch.
They is wonderful soft, and so lovin',

A good-lookin' face on the whole,
Fur the light in them eyes seems to travel

Right out from a beautiful soul.
If she had been lively and hearty

I couldn't have helped her, you see;
And similar, then, it ain't likely

That she would have took up with me;
And I shouldn't have knowed her and loved her,

So patient and gentle and sweet;
And I wish that the whole of creation

I could lay at her poor little feet.
I was never so chirk and galloptious,

And never before felt so spry;
And I've just took to noticin' lately

How amazin’ly blue is the sky;
And how gay is the stars in the night-time,

A-winkin' and glimmerin' down-
Good gracious! I come near forgettin'

That barrel of oysters for Brown!

THE GLASS RAILROAD.-GEORGE LIPPARD. It seemed to ine as though I had been suddenly aroused from my slumber. I looked around and found myself in the centre of a gay crowd. The first sensation I experienced was that of being borne along, with a peculiar motion. I looked around and found that I was in a long train of cars which were gliding over a railway, and seemed to be many miles in length. It was composed of many cars. Every car, open at the top, was filled with men and women, all gayly dressed, and happy, and all laughing, talking, and singing. The peculiarly gentle motion of the cars interested me.

There was no grating, such as we usually hear on the railroad. They moved along without the least jar or sound. This, I say, interested me. I looked over the side, and to my astonishment found the railroad and cars made of glass. The glass wheels moved over the glass rails without the least noise or oscillation. The soft gliding motion produced a feeling of exquisite happiness. I was happy! It seemed as if everything was at rest within-I was full of peace.

While I was wondering over this circumstance, a new sight attracted my gaze. All along the road, within a foot of the track, were laid long lines of coffins on either side of the railroad, and every one contained a corpse dressed for burial, with its cold, white face turned upward to the light. The sight filled me with horror; I yelled in agony, but could make no sound. The gay throng who were around me only redoubled their singing and laughter at the sight of my agony, and we swept on, gliding on with glass wheels over the railroad, every moment coming nearer to the bend of the road, which formed an angle with the road far, far in the distance.

“Who are those ?” I cried at last, pointing to the dead in the coffins.

“Those are the persons who made the trip before us,” was the reply of one of the gayest persons near me.

What trip?" I asked.

Why, the trip you are now making; the trip on this glass railway," was the answer.

Why do they lie along the road, each one in his coffin ?" I was answered with a whisper and a half laugh which froze

my blood :

They were dashed to death at the end of the railroad," said the person whom I addressed.

“You know the railroad terminates at an abyss which is without bottom or measure. It is lined with pointed rocks. As each car arrives at the end it precipitates its passengers into the abyss. They are dashed to pieces against the rocks, and their bodies are brought here and placed in the coffins as a warning to other passengers; but no one minds it, we are so happy on the glass railroad."

I can never describe the horror with which those words inspired me.

“What is the name of the glass railroad ?" I asked. The person whom I asked, replied in the same strain :

“It is very easy to get into the cars, but very hard to get out. For, once in these, everybody is delighted with the soft, gliding motion. The cars move gently. Yes, this is a railroad of habit, and with glass wheels we are whirled over a glass railroad towards a fathomless abyss. In a few moments we'll be there, and they'll bring our bodies and put them in coffins as a warning to others; but nobody will mind it, will they ?”

I was choked with horror. I struggled to breathe-made frantic efforts to leap from the cars, and in the struggle I awoke. I know it was only a dream, and yet, whenever I think of it, I can see that long train of cars moving gently over the glass railroad. I can see cars far ahead, as they are turning the bend of the road. I can see the dead in their coffins, clear and distinct on either side of the road; while the laughing and singing of the gay and happy passengers resound in my ears, I only see the cold faces of the dead, with their glassy eyes uplifted, and their frozen hands upon their shroudls.

It was, indeed, a horrible dream. A long train of glass cars, gliding over a glass railway, freighted with youth, beauty, and music, while on either hand are stretched the victims of yesterday-gliding over the railway of habit toward the fathomless abyss.

“There was a moral in that dream."

Reader, are you addicted to any sinful habit? Break it off ere you dash against the rocks.”

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POPPING THE QUESTION.
I knew by his looks what he'd come for: I plainly had seen

from the first,
It must come to this sooner or later; and I'd made up my

mind for the worst. So I hid myself under the curtains, where the loving paii

couldn't see me, In order to watch their proceedings, and hear what he said

unto she. I saw he was fearfully nervous, that in fact he was suffering

pain, By the way that he fussed with his collar, and poked all the

chairs with his cane; Then he blushed; then he wouldn't look at her, but kept his

eyes fixed on the floor, And took the unusual precaution of taking his seat near the

door. He began, “ It is-er-er-fine weather,-remarkable weath,

er for Mav."
“Do you think so?" said she; “it is raining.”—“Oh! so it is

raining 10-day.
I meant, 't will be pleasant to-morrow,” he stammered;“

er--do you skate ?"
"Oh, yes!" she replied, " at the season; but isn't May rather

too late ?" The silence that followed was awful: he continued, “I see a

sweet dove ('Twas only an innocent sparrow; but blind are the eyes

of true love), “A dove of most beautiful plumage, on the top of that wide

spreading tree, Which reminds me,"--she sighed,—“O sweet maiden! which

reminds me, dear angel, of thee.” ller countenance changed in a moment: there followed a

terrible pause: I felt that the crisis was coming, and hastily dropped on all

fours, In order to see the thing better. His face grew as white as

a sheet: He give one spasmodic effort, and lifelessly dropped at her

feet. She said - What she said I won't tell you. She raised the I eagerly peered through the darkness,-for twilight had

poor wretch from the ground. I drew back my head for an instant Good heavens! Oh!

what was that sound?

made the room dim,And plainly perceived it was kissing, and kissing not all done

by him. I burst into loud fits of laughter: I know it was terribly

mean; Still I couldn't resist the temptation to appear for a while on

the scene. But she viewed me with perfect composure, as she kissed

him again with a smile, And remarked, 'twixt that kiss and the next one, that-she'd

known I was there all the while.

RETURN OF THE HILLSIDE LEGION.—Erup. Lynn.

What telegraphed word,

The village hath stirred ?
Why eagerly gather the people;

And why do they wait

At crossing and gate-
Why flutters the flag on the steeple ?

Why, stranger, do tell

It's now a smart spell
Since our sogers went marchin' away,

And we calculate now

To show the boys how
We can welcome the Legion to-day.

Bill Allendale's drum

Will sound when they come,
And there's watchers above on the hill,

To let us all know,

When the big bugles blow,
To hurrah with a hearty good will.

All the women folks wait

By the 'Cademy gate,
With posies all drippin' with dew;

The Legion shan't say

We helped them away,
And forgot them when service was through.

My Jack 's comin' too,

He's served the war through ;
Hark, the rattle and roar of the train!

There's bugle and drum,

Our sogers have come!
Hurrah! for the boys home again.

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