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13. “ With us you shall mingle in scenes of delight,
All summer and winter, from morning till night;
14. “When miserly bees shall return from their toils,
If you will decoy them, we'll feast on the spoils —
15. The bee did not wait to be urged any more,
But nodded his thanks as he entered the door.
16. The bee, when aware of his perilous fate,
Recovered his wit, though a moment too late.
17. The cunning old spider then laughed outright;
“Poor fellow,” he said, “ you are in a sad plight !
18. “I never could boast of much hon or shame,
Though a little acquainted with both by name;
19. “On the whole, you have lived long enough, I opine ;
So by your leave, I will hasten to dine;
20. A lesson for every one, little and great,
Is taught in this vagabond's tragical fate;
THE SALE OF THE PET LAMB.
1. On! poverty is a weary thing, 't is full of grief and pain ;
It boweth down the heart of man, and dulls his cunning brain ; It maketh even the little child with heavy sighs complain.
2. The children of the rich man have not their bread to win ;
They scarcely know how labor is the penalty of sin ;
3. And year by year, as life wears on, no wants have they to bear;
In all the luxury of the earth, they have abundant share ;
They walk along life's pleasant ways, where all is rich and fair. 4. The children of the poor man, though they be young each one,
Must rise betimes each morning, before the rising sun;
And scarcely when the sun is set their daily task is done. 5. Few things have they to call their own, to fill their hearts with
pride The sunshine and the summer flowers upon the highway side, And their own free companionship on healthy commons wide.
6. Hunger, and cold, and weariness — these are a frightful three;
But another curse there is beside, that darkens poverty -
7. A thousand flocks were on the hills, a thousand flocks and more,
Feeding in sunshine pleasantly; they were the rich man's store; There was the while one little lamb beside the cottage door.
8. A little lamb that rested with the children 'neath the tree;
That ate, meek creature, from their hands, and nestled to their
That had a place within their hearts — one of the family.
9. But want, even as an arméd man, came down upon their shed ;
The father labored all day long that his children might be fed, And, one by one, their household things were sold to buy them 10. That father, with a downcast eye, upon his threshold stood ;
Gaunt poverty each pleasant thought had in his heart subdued.
11. “Ay, though the children weep all day, and with down droop
ing head, Each does his small task mournfully, the hungry must be fed ; And that which has a price to bring must go to buy us bread.”
12. It went. Oh! parting has a pang the hardest heart to wring.
But the tender soul of a little child with fervent love doth cling,
13. Therefore most sorrowful it was, those children small to see ;
Most sorrowful to hear them plead for the lamb so piteously : “Oh, mother, dear, it loveth us, and what beside have we?"
14. “Let's take him to the broad green hill!”' in his impotent de
and fair :
15. Oh vain! They took the little lamb, and straightway tied him
down, With a strong cord they tied him fast, and o’er the common
brown, And o'er the hot and flinty roads, they took him to the town.
16. The little children through that day, and throughout all the
17. Oh! poverty is a weary thing, 't is full of grief and pain ;
It keepeth down the soul of man as with an iron chain;
HUNKS AND BLITHE.
pay me six
Blithe. How now, Mr. Hunks? Have you settled the controversy with Baxter ? Hunks. Yes, to a fraction, upon condition that he would
all his notes and bonds, from the date until they were discharged.
Blithe. Then it seems you have brought him to your own terms?
Hunks. Indeed I have; I would settle with him upon no other. Men now-a-days think it a dreadful hardship to pay a little interest; and will quibble a thousand ways to fool a body out of their just property; but I've grown too old to be cheated in that manner. I take care to secure the interest as well as the principal. And to prevent any difficulty, I take new notes every year, and carefully exact interest upon interest, and add it to the principal.
Blithe. You don't exact interest upon interest! this looks a little like extortion.
Hunks. Extortion! I have already lost more than five hundred pounds, by a number of rascally bankrupts. I won't trust a farthing of my money without interest upon interest.
Blithe. I see I must humor his foible; there's no other way to deal with him. (Aside.)
Hunks. There's no security in men's obligations in these times. And if I've a sum of money in the hands of those we call good chaps, I 'm more plagued to get it than 't is all worth. They would be glad to turn me off with mere rubbish, if they could. I'd rather keep my money in my own chest than let it out for such small interest as I have for it.
Blithe. There's something, I confess, in your observations. We never know when we are secure, unless we have our property in our chests, or in lands.
Hunks. That's true. I'd rather have my property in lands at three per cent., than in the hands of the best man in this town at six — it is a fact. Land will grow higher when the wars are over.
Blithe. You ’re entirely right. I believe if I'd as much money as you I should be of the same mind.
Hunks. That's a good disposition. We must all learn to take care of ourselves these hard times. But I wonder how it happens that your disposition is so different from your son's — he is extremely wild and profuse — I should think it was not possible for you, with all your prudence and dexterity, to get money as fast as he would spend it.
Blithe. Oh, he's young and airy; we must make allowances for such things; we used to do so ourselves when we were young men.
Hunks. No, you ’re mistaken ; I never wore a neckcloth nor a pair of shoe-buckles, on week-days, in my life. But that is now become customary among the lowest ranks of people. Blithe. You have been very singular; there are few men
that have been so frugal and saving as you have; but we must always endeavor to conform ourselves a little to the custom of the times. My son is not more extravagant than other young people of his age.
He loves to appear pretty gayly drest; but this is only what is natural and customary for every one. I understand he has formed some connections with your eldest daughter, and I should be fond of the alliance, if I could gain your approbation in the matter.
Hunks. The custom of the times will undo us all there 's no living in this prodigal age — the young people must have their rides, their tavern dinners, and sports, while the old ones are made perfect drudges to support their lux. ury.
Blithe. Our families, sir, without doubt, would be very
in our age