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AT SET OF SUN.
If we sit down at set of sun,
And, counting find
One glance most kind,
If through it all
No act, most small,
WHY BIDDY AND PAT MARRIED.-R. H. STODDARD.
"Oh! why did you marry him, Biddy?
Why did you take Pat for your spouse ?
And his hair is as red as a cow's!
You'd done a dale better with Tim;
You couldn't do better nor him.
Pray tell how your courtin' began,
And be was a widdy man.”
Before they came over the sea,
And Tim was a-courtin' me.
Nor, for that matter, neither did Pat;
Cut no one had then told him that;
For life at best 's but a span-
And he was a widdy inan.
“I helped him to take care of Norah,
And when he compared her with me, He saw, as he whispered one evening,
What a woman one woman could be.
Then the sickness seized upon Tim,
It was such a comfort to him.
Our tears in the same channel ranFor I was a widdy woman
And he was a widdy man. “We had both had our troubles, mavourneen,
Though neither, perhaps, was to blame; And we both knew by this what we wanted,
And were willing to pay for the same. We knew what it was to be married,
And before the long twelvemonth had flown, We had made up our minds it was better
Not to live any longer alone:
Like you, miss, and Master Dan-
- Harper's Magazine.
I will paint you a sign, rum-seller,
you seem so blithe and friendly,
With a foaming glass of liquor,
SEWING ON A BUTTON.-THE DANBURY News Man.
It is bad enough to see a bachelor sew on a button, but he is the embodiment of grace alongside of a married man. Necessity has compelled experience in the case of the former, but the latter has always depended upon some one else for this service, and fortunately, for the sake of society, it is rarely he is obliged to resort to the needle himself. Sometimes the patient wife scalds her right hand, or runs a sliver under the nail of the index finger of that hand, and it is then the man cucches the needle around the neck, and forgetting to tie a knot in the thread commences to put on the button. It is always in the morning, and from five to twenty minutes after he is expected to be down street. He lays the button exactly on the site of its predecessor, and pushes the needle through one eye, and carefully draws the thread after, leaving about three inches of it sticking up for leeway. He says to himself,—“Well, if women don't have the easiest time I ever see.” Then he comes back the other way, and gets the needle through the cloth well enough, and lays himself out to find the eye, but in spite of a great deal of patient jabbing, the needle point persists in bucking against the solid parts of that button, and finally, when he loses patience, his fingers catch the thread, and that three inches he had left to hold the button slips through the eye in a twinkling, and the button rolls leisurely across the floor. He picks it
without a single remark, out of respect to his children, and makes another attempt to fasten it. This time when coming back with the needle he keeps both the thread and button from slipping by covering them with his thumb, and it is out of regard for that part of him that he feels around for the eye in a very careful and judicious manner; but eventually losing his philosophy as the search becomes more and more hopeless, he falls to jabbing about in a loose and savage manner, and it is just then the needle finds the opening, and comes up through the button and part way through his thumb with a celerity that no human ingenuity can guard against. Then he lays down the things, with a few familiar quotations, and presses the injured band between his knees, and then holds it under the other arm, and finally jams it into his mouth, and all the while he prances about the floor and calls upon heaven and earth to witness that there has never been anything like it since the world was created, and howls, and whistles, and moans, and sobs. After awhile he calms down, and puts on his pants, and fastens them topether with a stick, and goes to his business a changed man,
LITTLE PAT AND THE PARSON.
No troublesome beadle is near him;
And little Pat trembles to hear him ;
little fellow alone and forlorn,
And hunger has withered his beauty.
Seems growing more angry each minute;
As if anxious to know what is in it.
Pat takes them for kings and princesses ; (With his little bare feet-he delights in their shoes;
In his rags he feels proud of their dresses !)
To turn from the world's dissipation,
Pat listens with strong approbation!
Pat runs up to meet him right gladly,
“And a jacket, I want them quite badly.”
The beadle gets word of the danger,
Looks knives at the poor little stranger.
And cries,-who so willing to cry it?
You said so,-now don't you deny it.”
And growl about robbers and arson;
And smiles at the white-headed parson!
And whisper he wants better teaching;
On the boy who has faith in his preaching.
As eager as Patsy to press on,
Is the moral that lies in the lesson.
A smart footman,-is asked to determine
He says, "Och, shure, the master's ould sermin!"