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6. He hugs the bag, sits down to think,
Then counts and weighs. The merry clink
7. No sleep for him : the silly wight,
As miser fearful, watch'd all night;
which honest natures prize,
8. The wealthy neighbor's gift was vain,
it back again :
1. THERE is a species of grateful remorse, which sometimes has been known to operate forcibly on the minds of the most hardened in impudence. Towards the beginning of this century, an actor celebrated for mimicry, was to have been employed by a comic author, to take off the person,
manner, and the singularly awkward delivery of the celebrated Dr. Woodward, who was intended to be introduced on the stage in a laughable character.
2. The mimic dressed himself as a countryman, and waited on the doctor with a long catalogue of ailments, which he said attended on his wife. The physician heard with amazement, diseases and pains of the most opposite nature, repeated and redoubled on the wretched patient.
3. For, since the actor's greatest wish was to keep Dr. Woodward in his company, as long as possible, that he might make the more observations on his gestures, he loaded his poor imaginary spouse with every infirmity, which had any probable chance of prolonging the interview.
4. At length, being become completely master of his errand, he drew from his purse a guinea, and with a scrape made an uncouth offer of it. “Put up thy money, poor fellow,” cried the doctor, “put up thy money. Thou hast need of all thy cash and all thy patience too, with such a bundle of diseases tied to thy back.”
5. The actor returned to his employer, and recounted the whole conversation, with such true feeling of the physician's character, that the author screamed with approbation, His raptures were soon checked, for the mimic told him, with the emphasis of sensibility, that he would sooner die, than prostitute his talents to the rendering such genuine humanity a public laughing-stock.
IT WILL BE ALL RIGHT IN THE MORNING.-BEN. F. TAYLOR
1. When the bounding beat of the heart of love,
And the springing step grow slow;
Lies dark on the path below,
And he turns where a Star is dawning,
“It will all be right in the morning !"
2. When “ the strong man armed,” in the middle-watch,
From life's dim deck is gazing,
A gleam of the day-beam's blazing;
He heeds not the dark ocean yawning ,
" It will all be right in the morning!"
3. When the battle is done, the harp unstrung,
Its music trembling-dying;
And he longs in the grave to be lying,
He had wept or waited the dawning :
It will all be right in the morning !"
Where the mother bends over
Where the eyes of the lover
A welcome, a wail, or a warning,
“It will all be right in the morning !"
THE MISSION OF HOBBLESHANK.-CORNELIUS MATHEWS.
1. THERE was one that toiled in Puffer's behalf more like a spirit than a man; a little shrunken figure, that was everywhere, for days before the canvas; a universal presence, breathing in every ear the name of Puffer. There was not a tap-room that he did not haunt; no obscure alley into which he did not penetrate, and make its reeking atmosphere vocal with his praises. Wherever a group of talkers or citizens were gathered, the little old man glided in and dropped a word that might bear fruit at the ballot-box. At nightfall he would mix with crowds of shipwrights' prentices and laborers, and kindle their rugged hearts with the thought of the young candidate.
2. He stopped not with grown men and voters, but seizing moments when he could, he whispered the name in children's ears, that, being borne to parents by gentle lips, it might be mixed with kindly recollections, and so be made triumphant.
3. It was given out that the Blinkerites had established or discovered, in some under-ground tenements that never saw light of day, a great warren of voters. When the toilsome old man learned of this burrow that was to be sprung against his favorite, he looked about for an equal mine, whence voters might be dug in scores, at a moment's notice, should occasion demand. With this in view, one afternoon, he entered Water street, at Peck slip, like a skillful miner, as though a great shaft had been sunk just there.
4. A strange climate it was that he was entering; one where the reek and soil are so thick and fertile, that they seem to breed endless flights of great white overcoats, and red-breasted shirts, and flying blue trowsers, that swarm in the air, and fix, like so many bats, against the house sides.
5. Tropical too, for there's not a gaudy color, green, or red, or orange-yellow, that the sun, shining through the smoky atmosphere, does not bring out upon the house fronts; and for inhabitants of the region, there are countless broad-backed
gentlemen, who, plucking from some one of the neighboring depositories a cloth roundabout, and a black tarpaulin, sit in the doorways launching their cigars upon the street, or gather within.
6. Hobbleshank, a resident of the inland quarter of the city, certainly came upon these, with his frock and eye-glass, as a traveller and landsman from far in the interior; and when he first made his appearance in their thoroughfare, looking hard about with his single eye, it could not be cause of surprise that they wondered aloud as he passed, where the little old blubber had come from......
7. But when, as he got accustomed to the place, he accosted them with a gentle voice, said a complimentary word for their sign-board, with its full-length sailor's lass—Hope upon her anchor, or sturdy Strength, standing square upon his pins— they began at once to have a fancy for the old man.
8. He passed from house to house, making friends in each. Sometimes he made his way into the bar-room, where, seated against the wall, on benches all around the sanded floor, with dusty bamboo rods, alligator skins, outlandish eggs, and seaweeds plucked among the Caribees or the Pacific islands, or some far-off shore, he would linger by the hour, listening with all the wondering patience of a child, to their ocean-talk.
9. And when they were through, he would draw a homely similitude between their story—the perils their ship had crossed with the good ship of state ; and then tell them of a young friend of his, who was on trial before the ship's crew for a master's place. Before he left, in nine cases out of ten, they gave their hands for Puffer, sometimes even rising and confirming it with a cheer that shook the house, and brought their messmates thronging in from the neighborhood, when the story would be recited to them by a dozen voices, and new recruits to Puffer's side enrolled.
10. Late at night, when others, who might have been expected to be stirring and making interest for themselves, slumbered, Hobbleshank was taking his rounds through the