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Yet, hearing her approaching, he
Resumed invisibility.
“ Dear Mrs. P., my only joy,"
Exclaimed the horritied old boy;
“Now give them up, I beg of you-
You know what I'm referring to !"
But no; the cross old lady swore
She'd keep his-what I said before
To make him publicly absurd ;
And Mrs. Peter kept her word.
The poor old fellow had no rest;
His coat, his stock, his shoes, his vest,
Were all that now met mortal eye-
The rest, invisibility!
“Now, madam, give them up, I beg-
I've bad rheumatics in my leg ;
Besides, until you do, its plain
I cannot come to sight again !
“For though some mirth it might afford
To see my clothes without their lord,
Yet there would rise indignant oaths
If he were seen without his clothes!"
But no: resolved to have her quiz,
The lady held her own--and his-
And Peter left his humble cot
To find a pair of-you know what.
But-here's the worst of this affair-
Whene'er he came across a pair,
Already placed for him to don,
He was too stout to get them on!
So he resolved at once to train,
And walked and walked with all his main;
For years he paced this mortal earth,
To bring himself to decent girth.
At night when all around is still,
You'll find him pounding up a hill ;
And shrieking peasants whom he meets,
Fall down in terror on the peats.
Old Peter walks through wind and rain,
Resolved to train, and train, and train,
Until he weighs twelve stone or so--
And when he does I'll let you know.


“You've saved my life,” the master said,
"At risk of yours, my faithful Ned;
And that a service so immense
May not fail of such recompense
As lies in human means to make,
(Would mine were god-like for your sake!)
Three dearest wishes straight unfold-
Each shall be granted soon as told.”
“Well, den,” grinned Ned, with ivory show,
“Since massa please to hab it so,
My firs' s'all be for-for-e’yah !
As much good old peach-brandy, sah,
As dis 'ere darkey an' his wife
Can jubilate in all dere life.
De nex'- Virginia weed enough
For me to smoke an' her to snuff,
Till life's las' mile-stone s'al be past."
“It shall be so, Ned-now the last !”

De las —hem-gorry! let me see--
Wat s’all it in partic'lar be?.
Oh! now I hab him-chee, e'yah!
A leetle more peach-brandy, sah !"



Stand up, ye spellers now and spell

Since spelling matches are the rage,
Spell Phenakistoscope and Knell,

Diphtheria, Syzygy, and Gauge.
Or take some simple word as Chilly,
Or Willie or the garden Lily.
To spell such words as Syllogism,
And Lachrymose and Synchronism,
And Pentateuch and Saccharine,
Apocrypha and Celendine,
Lactiferous and Cecity,
Jejune and Homeopathy,
Paralysis and Chloroform,
Rhinoceros and Pachyderm,
Metempsychosis, Gherkins, Basque,
It is certainly no easy task.
Kaleidoscope and Tennessee,
Kamtschatka and Dispensary,

Would make some spellers colicky.
Diphthong and Erysipelas,
And Etiquette and Sassafras,
Infallible and Ptyalism,
Allopathy and Rheumatism,
And Cataclysm and Beleaguer,
Twelfth, Eighteenth, Rendezvous, Intriguer,
And hosts of other words are found
On English and on Classic ground.
Thus Behring Straits and Michaelmas,
Thermopylae, Cordilleras,
Suite, Jalap, Hemorrhage, and Havana,
Cinquefoil and Ipecacuanha,
And Rappahannock, Shenandoah,
And Schuylkill and a thousand more
Are words some prime good spellers miss,
In Dictionary lands like this.
Nor need one think himself a Scroyle,
If some of these his efforts foil,
Nor deem himself undone forever
To miss the name of either river;
The Dnieper, Seine or Guadalquiver.


Here I'm sitting, stitching, darning

Little stockirgs, toes and heels, While above my head the racket

Sounds like distant thunder peals. What on earth can mean this tumult,

Whence comes this distracting noise ?
Ah, I know it, yes I hear them,-

In the garret are our boys.
There is Grayson,“ dead in earnest,”

Wanting things to go “just so;"
Banging all the boards together,

Placing boxes in a row; “Make believe” he's having auction,

Selling worn-out, broken toys, Do you wonder at the clatteri

In the garret are our boys.
Now the barrel from the corner

Fast is rolling o'er and o'er,
And the croquet balls are bounding

Here and there across the floor.
“Seize a mallet,"' “ quick," " get ready,"

“ There's your ball, and here mine goes."

"I can beat you if I try it."

“I can strike the hardest blows."
Hark, a shout of merry laughter-

Hammond's joyful, jolly glee!
Brother, don't you see I'm beating?

Better clear the track for me."
Bang, bang, bang! Oh dear, tis deafening,

Have you ever heard this noise?
Not unless you are the mother

Of just three such darling boys.
Now I hear a shout from Milton-

He's the youngest of the three-
Oh, that's nothing, if I missed it.”

“Take care, brother, don't hit me.”
“Mamma, mamma! call to Hammie.”

“Here's my book, and there's my ball."
“Let me be, or I'll go tell her,-

Mamma, Hammie made me fall."
Yes, I'm sitting, stitching, mending,

Pants and jackets quite a sight;
Need I grieve o'er countless stitches,

If they cover hearts all right?
Should the bustle in the garret

E'er disturb my sweetest joys,
If my heart is yearning heavenward,

For the welfare of our boys?
If when years have brought them manhood

And the broad world is their field;
When this heart that so much loves them,

Its first place is forced to yield;
When I pouder o'er the by-gones,

Will these days be reckoned joys?
Will I wish that I could say then,

“In the garret are our boys ?”

HOW “RUBY” PLAYED. Jud Brownin, when visiting New York, goes to hear Rubinstein, and gives the following description of his playing:

Well, sir, he had the blamedest, biggest, catty-cornedest pianner you ever laid eyes on; somethin' like a distracted billiard table on three legs. The lid was hoisted, and mighty well it was. If it hadn't been he'd a tore the entire inside clean out, and scattered 'em to the four winds of heaven.

Played well ? You bet he did; but don't interrupt me. When he first sit down, he 'peared to keer mighty little 'bout playin', and wisht he hadn't come. He tweedle-leeded a little on the treble, and twoodle-oodled some on the basejust foolin' and boxin' the thing's jaws for bein’in his way. And I says to a man settin' next to me, says I : “ What sort of fool playin' is that ?" And he says, “ Heish !" But presently his hands commenced chasin' one another up and down the keys, like a passel of rats scamperin' through a garret very swift. Parts of it was sweet, though, and reminded me of a sugar squirrel turnin' the wheel of a candy cage.

“Now," I says to my neighbor, “he's showin' off. He thinks he's a-doin' of it, but he ain't got no idee, no plan of nothin'. If he'd play me a tune of some kind or other l’d--"

But my neighbor says “ Heish !" very impatient.

I was just about to git up and go home, bein' tired of that foolishness, when I heard a little bird waking up away off in the woods, and call sleepy-like to his mate, and I looked up and see that Rubin was beginning to take some interest in his business, and I sit down again. It was the peep of day. The light came faint from the east, the breezes blowed gentle and fresh, some more birds waked up in the orchard, then some more in the trees near the house, and all begun singin' together. People began to stir, and the gal opened the shutters. Just then the first beam of the sun fell upon the blossoms a leetle more, and it techt the roses on the bushes, and the next thing it was broad day; the sun fairly blazed, the birds sung like they'd split their little throats; all the leaves was movin', and flashin' diamonds of dew, and the whole wide world was bright and happy as a king. Seemed to me like there was a good breakfast in every house in the land, and not a sick child or woman anywhere. It was a fire mornin'.

And I says to my neighbor: “That's music, that is.”
But he glared at me like he'd like to cut my throat.

Presently the wind turned; it begun to thicken up, and a kind of gray mist came over things; I got low-spirited directly. Then a silver rain begun to fall. I could see the crops touch the ground; some flashed up like long pearl ear-rings, and the rest rolled away like round rubies. It

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