WHAT ADAM MISSED.

Adam never knew what 'twas to be a boy
To wheedle pennies from a doting sire,
With which to barter for some pleasing toy,
Or calm the rising of a strong desire

To suck an orange. Nor did he

E'er cast the shuttlecock to battledoor; Nor were his trousers ever out at knee,

From playing marbles on the kitchen floor.

He never skated o'er the frozen rill,

When winter's covering o'er the earth was spread;
Nor ever glided down the slippery hill,
With pretty girls upon his trusty sled.

He never swung upon his father's gate,
Or slept in sunshine on the cellar door,
Nor roasted chestnuts at the kitchen grate,
Nor spun his humming top upon the floor.

He ne'er amused himself with rows of bricks,
So set, if one fall, all come down;
Nor gazed delighted at the funny tricks
Of harlequin or traveling circus clown.

By gradual growth he never reached the age
When cruel Cupid first invokes his art,
And stamps love's glowing lesson, page by page,
Upon the tablets of a youngling's heart.

He never wandered forth on moonlight nights,
With her he loved above all earthly things;
Nor tried to mount old Pindar's rocky heights,
Because he fancied love had lent him wings.

He never tripped it 'er the ball-room floor,
Where love and music intertwine their charms,
Nor wandered listless by the sandy shore,
Debarred the pleasures of his lady's arms.

For Adam,-so at least it has been said
By many an ancient and a modern sage,-
Before a moment of his life had fled,
Was fully thirty years of age!

MINE VAMILY.-CHARLES F. ADAMS.

Dimbled scheeks mit eyes off plue,
Mout' like id vas moisd mit dew,
Und leedle teeth shust peekin' droo,—
Dot's der baby.

Curly head, und full of glee,
Drowsers all oudt at der knee,-
He vas peen blayin' horse, you see,—
Dot's leedle Otto.

Von hundord seexty in der shade,
Der oder day when she vas veighed,-
She beats me soon I vas avraid,—
Dot's mine Gretchen.

Bare-footed head, und pooty stoudt,
Mit grooked legs, dat vill bend oudt,
Fond off his bier und sauer kraut,—
Dot's me himself.

Von schmall young baby, full of fun,
Von leedle pright-eyed, roguish son,
Von frau to greet vhen vork vas done,―
Dot's mine vamily.

PATCHWORK PHILOSOPHY.

I've been thinking some, Keziah,
While a-sittin at my work,-
Though I ain't the sort of woman
To let thinking make me shirk,-
Ez I say, I've been a thinking
What a very curious way
Our lives is patched up together,
Cut and fit 'em as we may!

It's a square of blue or crimson,
Then a square of dark and light,
Then a half of red and yellow
By a half of solid white;
And with all our kalkilations
Ez to how the patterns run,

We can never tell eggsackly,
Until all the quilt is done.
There's that bit of blue, jes yonder,
'Tis as bright as June sky yet,
"Tain't your flimsy kind of cambric,
That you daren't as much as wet.
It's been five and twenty summers
Since that cambric gown was new,
And these withered cheeks had roses,
That were best set off by blue.
Then that laylock on the corner,
It belonged to Betsy Wade;
She was allus sort of shif'less,
Buying what was sure to fade.
But she somehow took folks' fancies,
For men ne'er are o'erwise,
And the weakest sort of wimmen
Can throw sawdust in their eyes.

And that check, 'twas off a weskit
That I made for Abel Green;
We was-yes, chile-nigh to married,
When-when Betsy came between
Wall, 'tain't worth talking over,
Howsoe'er the squares may fit;

Ye kin never tell, till j'ining,
Ez to how the colors hit.

For the blue will spile the purple,
And the laylock spile the gray,
And the squares ye matched so certain,
Will match jes' the other way.
And with all yer careful patching,
You are allus sure to find

That the pattern, when it's finished,
Ain't eggsackly to your mind.

So, Keziah, I've been thinking,
Here a-sitting at my work-
Though I ain't the sort of woman
To let fancies make me shirk -
That our lives is like a patchwork,
With its squares of dark and light,
And there's only One, above us,
Who can do the j'ining right.

TREADWATER JIM.-SAMUEL W. SMALL

"Who's dat?—W'y dat's Treadwater Jim, De wust little nigger in town;

What de folkes all sez dey'll hang him, 'Kase why, hit don't seem he kin drown! He keeps hisself dere in de watah

'Bout half ob his time in de year; An' ef he's got any home round hyar Hits out on de eend ob dat pier!

"Well, de name what he's got-it was gin him By folkes what was kno'in de facks,

Fer dey sed dat sum title was due him

'Kase he'd done wun de nobles' of acks!

Ob koarse I kin tell yer de story,

'Kase I was rite dare on de spot,

An' ef Jim is entutl'd to glory

He fa'rly earnt all dat he's got!

"Yer see, hit waz out on de wahf, dar,
Wun sunshiny mawnin in May,
Dat er little chile up from de Nawf, Sar,
Wuz tooken out dar fer ter play;
An' Jim wuz out dar wid his fish line,
An' de nuss warn't a-watchin' de chile,
So hit walked off rite inter de brine
At dat corner dar by de big pile.
"Well, den dar wuz skreamin' and cryin'
Fum all de folkes round on de pier.
But Jim seed hit warn't no use tryin'
Ter reskew de chile fum up heah-

So he tuck er long dive fer de watah

An' struck whar de chile hed gone down,
An' hit tuck him so long fer ter fine hit
De people tho't bofe 'em would drown.
"But purty soon out in de stream dar

Er kinky black hed cum in sight,

An' helt close ter his bres' wif bofe han's, sah, Wuz de baby all limpy an' white!

Den de moufs ob de peeple wuz opened

In er long an' enkuridgin shout!

'Cum on wid de bote, men! Jim hollered'I'll tread watah ontill yer get out!'

"Den dey bent ter der ores like Marsters,
An' flew ter whar Jim, wid de chile,
Wuz doin' his bes' ter keep floatin'

But weak'unin' hiz lick all de while,
Dey brought de two heah ter de landin',
An' de mother wuz crazy wid joy,
While de father jiss retched fer dat darkey
An' hugged him ez do' his own boy!
"So, yer see, dat's de reezin dey gib him
De name dat yer heered me jess call-
An' nobody bodders along wid Jim,

An' he does ez he pleazes wid all!

Ob koarse, what he done wuz right brave, sah,
An' mebbe wuz wurthy er crown--
But Jim!-Well, Jim's jess de blamedes'
No 'count little nigger in town!"

.

DANIEL versus DISHCLOTH.-G. A. STEVENS.

We shall now consider the law, as our laws are very considerable both in bulk and number, according as the Statutes declare, considerandi, considerando, considerandum, and are not to be meddled with by those that don't understand them. Law always expresses itself with true grammatical precision; never confounding moods, cases, or genders except, indeed, when a woman happens accidentally to be slain, then the verdict is always brought in manslaughter. The essence of the law is altercation, for the law can altercate, fulminate, deprecate, irritate, and go on at any rate. Now, the quintessence of the law has, according to its name, five parts:-The first, is the beginning or insipiendum; the second, the uncertainty or dubitendum; the third, delay or puzzliendum; fourthly, replication without endum; and fifthly, monstrum and horrendum. All of which are exemplified in the following case:-Daniel against Dishcloth.

Daniel was groom in the same family wherein Dishcloth was cook-maid; and Daniel returning home one day fuddled, he stooped down to take a sop out of the