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rapidly, and darting between his legs, capsized him into the ash-box.
His family dragged him inside, another candidate for rub. bing with arnica and a blessed haven of rest.
The back of the house has been hermetically sealed; and Burdock now proposes extending an invitation to the militia regiments of Boston to come down and practice marksmanship off the roof; promising to furnish a live goat for a target, and a silver napkin-ring as the first prize.
SENTENCE OF DEATH ON THE HIGH SEAS.
Nigh twenty-five year ago,
While the wintry winds did blow.
Than we had the fourth week out-
An' pretty well blowed about,
Tore the mainmast off the deck;
Warn't sent to the bottom a wreck!
Afore that we reached the port ;
An' provisions was running short.
In the sunny land of Spain,
We was ready to brave 'em again!
'Bout ship-don't lose the right tack-
But when we was coming back.
In charge o' the second mate;
Was lovers, as sure as fate.
“Be to be k
'Get into the perfume
“ You v
A finer young fellow ne'er stepped a plank,
Every man aboard was his friend;
And--but wait till you hear the end.
Anong 'em a Creole chap, garded hi
As might ha' been good for summat on land,
But at sea warn't worth a rap!
Till a thousand miles from the coast ;
blazed up, and he muttered low times in seven fresh spots, and was down ran right straight to her love,
tierce and fast;
a hole in l.vn
The sentence was dropped his head on Burdola could recover his equilibrium, he
crawling around in a very undignified manner, to ..
“Look out he don't hurt you!" screamed Mrs. Burdock as the goat sent him flying into a sand-pile.
When Burdock had got his bald head out of the sand, he was mud all over his clothes, and tried to catch the brute by the horns, but desisted after he had lost two front teeth, and been rolled in the mud.
“Don't make a living show of yourself before the neighbors !" advised his wife.
“Come in, pa, and let him be!" begged his daughter.
“Golly, dad, look out! he is comin' agin !" shouted his son enthusiastically.
Mr. Burdock waxed profane, and swore three-story oaths in such rapid succession that his family held their breaths; and a pious old lady, who lived in a house in the rear, shut up her windows, and sent out the cook for a policeman or a missionary.
"Run for it, dad !” advised his son a moment later, when the goat's attention seemed to be turned away.
Burdock sprang to his feet, and followed his offspring's suggestion. He was legging it in superb style, and the chances of his reaching the house seemed excellent, when the fragrant brute suddenly clapped on more steam, gained
And the Creole's sharp knife his blood has drunk,
On the deck he falls in death;
As ever did draw life's breath.
I grappled his coward throat;
I'd a strangled him like to a stoat.
Poor Philip we sorrowful raised ;
Heart-broken and pretty near crazed.
The sharks somehow soon find it out;
Off our quarter was floating about.
The slayer and slain was both there;
While he read out the funeral prayer.
Seemed his glistening eyes to distend; He laughed as he glared on that low-stricken form,
And—but wait till you hear the end ! The captain just then caught a glimpse of the shark,
And some thought come into his head,
And his white brow flushed all red!
It made me shiver to look ;
As plain as if writ in a book. “Bo'sun," said he,“ bring a rope," and 'twas brought;
The murderer laughed to see,
Hang quick! if so must be.
When they led him towards the dead;
Had seen that hammer-head!
With pitiful cry and groan;
Was hard and fixed as stono.
And back to back, limb fast to limb,
Was the dead and the living tied;
For mercy upon him cried.
Can yet see his look of woe,
The victim and his foe.
Darts forward through the sea!
The Lord deliver me!
Where did you come from, baby dear?
A STRONG TEMPTATION. A young man, or rather a boy, for he was not seventeen years of age, was a clerk in one of the great mercantile houses in New York. An orphan and poor, he must rise, if he rose at all, by his own exertions. His handsome, honest face, and free, cordial manner won for him the friendship of all his fellow-laborers, and many were the invitations he received to join them in the club-room, in the theatre, and even in the bar-room. But Alfred Harris had the pure teachings of a Christian mother to withhold him from rushing headlong into dissipation and vice, and all the persuasions of his comrades could not induce him to join them in scenes like this. He feared the consequences.
One evening one of his fellow clerks, George Warren, the most high-toned and moral among them, invited Alfred to go home with him to supper and make the acquaintance of his family. The boy gladly assented, for he spent many lonely evenings, with only his books and his thoughts for company.
He found his friend's family very social and entertaining. Mrs. Warren, the mother, was a pleasant, winning, I might almost say fascinating, woman; one of the kind whose every little speech seems of consequence, and lose every act praiseworthy. Mr. Warren was a cheery, social gentleman, fond of telling stories and amusing young people. And George's sister, Jessie, a girl about Alfred's own age, gave an additional charm to this happy family.
After supper, wine was brought in. Mrs. Warren poured it out herself, and with a winning smile passed a glass of the sparkling liquid to the guest. Alfred took it with some hesitation, but did not raise it to his lips. Each of the family held a glass, waiting to pledge their visitor. But Alfred feared to drink. He set the goblet on the table, while a burning blush overspread his face.
“What! do not drink wine ?” asked Mrs. Warren, in her pleasant tones.
“I have been taught not to drink it,” said Alfred. “You have had good teaching, I doubt not,” said the lady,