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she made haste to rub the whole bundle of matches, for she wished to hold her grandmother fast. And the matches gave a light that was brighter than noonday. Her grandmother had never appeared so beautiful nor so large. She took the little girl in her arms, and both flew upwards, all radiant and joyful, far, far above mortal ken, where there was neither cold, nor hunger, nor care to be found; where there was no rain, no snow, or storiny wind, but calm, sunny days the whole year round.

But, in the cold dawn, the poor girl might be seen leaning against the wall, with red cheeks and smiling mouth; she had been frozen on the last night of the old year. The new year's sun shone upon the little dead girl. She sat still hold. ing the matches, one bundle of which was burned. People said: "She tried to warm herself.” Nobody dreamed of the fine things she had seen, nor in what splendor she had entered, along with her grandmother, upon the joys of the New Year.

TOBY TOSSPOT.-GEORGE COLMAN.

Alas! what pity 'tis that regularity,

Like Isaac Shove's, is such a rarity!
But th are swilling wights in London town,

Termed jolly dogs, choice spirits, alias swine,
Who pour, in midnight revel, bumpers down,

Making their throats a thoroughfare for wine. These spendthrifts, who life's pleasures thus run on,

Dozing with headaches till the afternoon,
Lose half men's regular estate of sun,

By borrowing too largely of the moon.
One of this kidney-Toby Tosspot hight-
Was coming from the “Bedford” late at night;
And being Bacchi plenus, full of wine,

Although he had a tolerable notion
Of aiming at progressive motion,
'Twasn't direct, -'twas serpentine.
He worked, with sinuosities, along,
Like Monsieur Corkscrew, worming through a cork,
Not straight, like Corkscrew's proxy, stiff Don Prong,-a fork.
At length, with near four bottles in his pate,
He saw the moon shining on Shove's brass plate,

When reading, Please to ring the bell,”

And being civil beyond measure,
Ring it!" says Toby, -" very well;

l'll ring it with a deal of pleasure.”
Toby, the kindest soul in all the town,
Gave it a jerk that almost jerked it down.
He waited full two minutes,--no one came;

He waited full two minutes more ;--and iben
Says Toby, “If he's deaf, I'm not to blame;

I'll pull it for the gentleman again.” But the first peal woke Isaac in a fright,

Who, quick as lightning, popping up his head,

Sat on his head's antipodes, in bed,
Pale as a parsnip,-bolt upright.
At length he wisely to himself doth say,

Calming his fears --
“Tush! 'tis some fool has rung and run away;"

When peal the second rattled in his ears. Shove jumped into the middle of the floor;

And, trembling at each breath of air that stirred, He groped down stairs, and opened the street door,

While Toby was performing peal the third. Isaac eyed Toby, fearfully askant,

And saw he was a strapper, stout and tall; Then put this question, “ Pray, sir, what d'ye want ?"

Says Toby, “I want nothing, sir, at all." “Want nothing! Sir, you've pulled my bell, I vow,

As if you'd jerk it off the wire.”
Quoth Toby, gravely making him a bow,

I pulled it, sir, at your desire.” “At mine?” “Yes, yours; I hope I've done it well!

High time for bed, sir !-I was hastening to it; But if you write up, ' Please to ring the bell,'

Common politeness makes me stop and do it.”

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i

Each of the Four Numbers of

100 Choice Selections" contained

in this volume is paged separately,

and the Index is made to corres

pond therewith. See EXPLANATION on first page of Contents.

The entire book contains nearly

1000 pages.

100

CHOICE SELECTIONS.

No. 16.

CLEAR THE WAY.-CHARLES MACKAY.

Men of thought, be up and stirring night and day:
Sow the seed-withdraw the curtain--clear the way!
Men of action, aid and cheer them, as ye may!

There's a fount about to stream,
There's a light about to beam,
There's a warmth about to glow,

There's a flower about to blow;
There's a midnight blackness changing into gray.
Men of thought and men of action, CLEAR THE WAY!
Once the welco light has broken, who shall say
What the unimagined glories of the day?
What the evil that shall perish in its ray?

Aid the dawning, tongue and pen;
Aid it, hopes of honest men;
Aid it, paper; aid it, type;

Aid it, for the hour is ripe,
And our earnest must not slacken into play.
Men of thought and men of action, CLEAR THE WAY!
Lo! a cloud's about to vanish from the day;
And a brazen wrong to crumble into clay.
Lo! the right's about to conquer: clear the way!

With the right shall many more
Enter smiling at the door;
With the giant wrong shall fall

Many others, great and small,
That for ages long have held us for their prey.
Men of thought and men of action, CLEAR THE WAY!

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