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5. “Wilt thou,” said the poet,“ send one of the attendants to carry it?” “ To carry what?” asked the king ; " is it not upon a paper here in thy possession ?” “No, o our lord the Sultan,” replied the poet ; " at the time I composed it I could not procure a piece of paper upon which to write it, and could find nothing but a fragment of a marble column left me by my father ; so I engraved it upon this ; and it lies in the court of the palace.” He had brought it, wrapped up, on the back of a camel. The king, to fulfil his promise, was obliged to exhaust his treasury; and to prevent a repetition of this trick, in future rewarded the poets according to the usual custom of kings.

OLD BARNARD, MRS. ROBINSON.

1. Old Barnard was still a lustly hind,
Though his age was full fourscore;

And he used to go
Through hail and snow,
To a neighb'ring town,

With his old coat brown,
To beg at his grandson's door.
2. Old Barnard briskly jogged along,
When the hail and snow did fall;

And, whatever the day,
He was always gay,
Did the broad sun glow,

Or the keen wind blow,
While he begged in his grandson's hall.
3. His grandson was a squire, and he
Had houses, and lands, and gold;

And a coach beside,
And horses to ride,

And a downy bed

To repose his head,
While he felt not the winter's cold.

4. Old Barnard had neither house nor lands, Nor gold to buy warm array;

Nor a coach to carry
His old bones weary,
Nor beds of feather

In freezing weather,
To sleep the long nights away.

5. But Barnard a quiet conscience had,
No guile did his bosom know;

And when ev'ning closed,
His old bones reposed,
Though the wintry blast

O'er his hovel passed,
And he slept, while the winds did blow!

6. But his grandson, he could never sleep,
Till the sun began to rise ;

For a fev'rish pain
Oppressed his brain,
And in dread he seemed,

And of Satan he dreamed,
Whenever he closed his eyes !
7. And whenever he feasted the rich and gay,
Old Satan still had his joke;

For however rare
The sumptuous fare,
When the sparkling glass

Was seen to pass, He was fearful the draught would choke ! 8. And whenever, in fine and costly gear,

The squire went forth to ride,

The owl would cry,
And the raven fly
Across his road,

While the sluggish toad
Would crawl by his palfrey's side.
9. And he could not command the sunny day,
For the rain would wet him through;

And the wind would blow,
Where his

nag
did

go,
And the thunder roar,

And the torrents pour,
And he felt the chill evening dew.

10. And the cramp would wring his youthful bones, And would make him groan aloud;

And the Doctor's art
Could not cure the heart,
While the conscience still

Was o'ercharged with ill;
And he dreamed of the pick-axe and shroud.

11. And why could old Barnard sweetly sleep,
Since so poor and so old was he?

Because he could say
At the close of day :
“I have done no wrong

To the weak or strong,
And
so,

Heaven look kind on me!”

12. One night, the grandson hied him forth,
To a monk, that lived hard by ;

“O! father!" said he,
“I am come to thee,
For I'm sick of sin,

And would fain begin
To repent me, before I die!"

13. “I must pray for your soul,” the monk replied: « But will see you to-morrow, ere noon :"

Then the monk flew straight
To old Barnard's gate,
And he bade him haste

O'er the dewy waste,
By the light of the waning moon.
14. In the monkish cell did old Barnard wait,
And his grandson went thither soon;

In a habit of gray,
Ere the dawn of day,
With a cowl and cross,

On the sill of moss, He knelt by the light of the moon. 15. “O! shrive me, father!" the grandson cried, “For the Devil is waiting for me!

I have robbed the poor,
I have shut my door,
And kept out the good

When they wanted food, And I come for my pardon to thee.” 16. “Get home, young sinner,” old Barnard said, “ And your grandsire quickly see;

Give him half your store,
For he's old, and poor,
And avert each evil,

And cheat the devil,-
By making him rich as thee."
17. The squire obeyed; and old Barnard now
Is rescued from every

evil :
For he fears no wrong,
From the weak or strong,
And the squire can snore,

When the loud winds roar,
For he dreams no more of the Devil.

NO QUACKERY.-OLD HUMPHREY'S ADDRESSES.

1. You may smile, if you will, at my prescription, but fresh air is one of the most precious gifts of the Almighty, the merciful giver of unnumbered blessings; it costs nothing, and it is by far the best medicine in the world. Listen to me, neighbors and I will tell you what it will do you no harm to hear. In a little garret, in a small house, in a narrow street, worked a tailor. His shop-board and his bed almost filled the room, and yet there were four or five flower-pots close to the window, a canary in a cage hanging from the ceiling, and a rabbit in a pen against the wall.

2. The tailor rose early and took late rest, eating the bread of carefulness, but could hardly make both ends meet; for he was sickly, weakly, and qualmy, as well he might be, and could not get on at his work ; he seemed to have no spirit. When I called upon him, I did not wonder at his being sickly, and weakly, and qualmy. I should have wondered very much had it been otherwise; for what with the room being so small and what with the bed, the shop-board, the flower-pots, the bird-cage, the rabbit-pen, and the clothes and remnants, and shreds and patches, it seemed wonderful to me how he was able to work at all; for he seldom left his garret, rarely opened his window, and breathed the same tainted air day and night.

3. To make short of a long story, I undertook to cure him, or rather, I undertook to give him advice, for none but the Creator and Preserver of men can establish our health, or add to the number of our days. Sickly, and pale, and panting for breath, as the tailor was, I made him change his lodging to an airy situation. No flower-pot, bird-cage, or rabbitpen, did I allow in his chamber; his window was almost always kept open, and an hour every day he breathed the fresh air of heaven in walking abroad.

4. He is now as hearty a man asever used a needle ; enjoys more health, works fewer hours, and gets more money, than

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