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THE BROKEN PITCHER.
As beautiful Kitty one morning was tripping,
With a pitcher of milk, from the Fair of Coleraine, When she saw me she stumbled, the pitcher it tumbled,
And all the sweet buttermilk watered the plain. "Oh, what shall I do now?--'twas looking at you nop
Sure, sure, such a pitcher I'll ne'er meet again! 'Twas the pride of my dairy: 0 Barney M'Cleary!
You're sent as a plague to the girls of Coleraine." I sat down beside her, and gently did chide her,
That such a misfortune should give her such pain. A kiss then I gave her; and, ere I did leave her,
She vowed for such pleasure she'd break it again. 'Twas hay-making season,,I can't tell the reason,
Misfortunes will never come single, 'tis plain; For very soon after poor Kitty's disaster
Sure, never a pitcher was whole in Coleraine.
THE LOST STEAMSHIP.-Fitz-JAMES O'BRIEN.
"Ho, there! Fisherman, hold your hand!
Tell me what is that far awayThere, where over the Isle of Sand
Hangs the mist-cloud sullen and gray ? See! it rocks with a ghastly life,
Rising and rolling through clouds of spray, Right in the midst of the breakers' strife
Tell me, what is it, Fisherman, pray?" “That, good sir, was a steamer stout
As ever paddled around Cape Race; And many's the wild and stormy bout
She had with the winds in that self-same place; But her time was come; and at ten o'clock
Last night she struck on that lonesome shore; And her sides were gnawed by the hidden rock,
And at dawn this morning she was no more." “Come, as you seem to know, good man,
The terrible fate of this gallant ship, Tell me about her all that vou can;
And here's my flask to moisten your lip. Tell me how many she had aboard
Wives, and husbands, and lovers true
How did it fare with her human hoard;
Lost she many or lost she few ?”
Already too moist I feel my lip;
And spin you my yarn about the ship: 'Twas ten o'clock, as I said, last night,
When she struck the breakers and went asbore: And scarce had broken the morning's light
Than she sunk in twelve feet of water, or more. “But long ere this they knew her doom,
And the Captain called all hands to prayer; And solemnly over the ocean's boom
The orisons rose on the troublous air. And round about the vessel there rose
Tall plumes of spray as white as snow, Like angels in their ascension clo es,
Waiting for those who prayed below. “So these three hundred people clung
As well as they could to spar and rope;
Nor on any face a glimmer of hope.
Of tearful faces I saw but one,
And not for himself, but the Captain's son. “The Captain stood on the quarter-deck,
Firm, but pale, with trumpet in hand; Sometiines he looked at the breaking wreck,
Sometimes he sadly looked to land. And often he smiled to cheer the crew
But, oh! the smile was terrible grim-'Till over the quarter a huge sea flew;
And that wils the last they saw of him. "I saw one young fellow, with his bride,
Standing a-midships upon the wreck; His face was white as the boiling tide,
And she was clinging about his neck. And I saw them try to say good-by,
But neither could hear the other speak; So they floated away through the sea to die
Shoulder to shoulder, and cheek to cheek. "And there was a child, but eight at best,
Who went his way in a sea she shipped; All the while holding upon his breast
A little pet parrot, whose wings were clippes
And as the boy and the bird went by,
Swinging away on a tall wave's crest, They were gripped by a man, with a drowning cry
And together the three went down to rest. *And so the crew went one by one,
Some with gladness, and few with fear; Cold and hardship such work had done
That few seemed frightened when death was neur. Thus every soul on board went down-
Sailor and passenger, little and great; The last that sank was a man of my town,
A capital swimmer-the second mate.” “Now, lonely Fisherman, who are you,
That say you saw this terrible wreck? How do I know what you say is true,
When every mortal was swept from the deck ? Where were you in that hour of death?
How did you learn what you relate?” His answer came in an under-breath
“Master, I was the second mate!"
Or so, aback, you says
He fished f'om dis yer place?
On de bench dar by de do’;-
Sence dat long time ago.
O'de blessed year, 'dout fail,
Like watchin' fur a sail.
An' de beatin' win's ’ull blow,
In his old place by de do'.
Ter po' Kyarlina Jim-
Is all de same ter him.
Dat chile you see dar on his knee,
She never fails ter come
Ter fetch Kyarlina home.
Lights on de chile an' Jim,
Kind-ier his gal an' him.
Ago, l'se heerd him say,
On de blue waves o' de bay.
Dat chile he los' 'ull come
MAT AND HAL AND I.-ONLIE AMA Snow.
'Tis while reviewing o'er my life that 's past,
I still remember well the autumn day
Our school days o'er, true duties claimed us now;