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eye whether the story he told was true or not. therefore very angry when persons who saw him coming, endeavored to avoid him. A poor dancing-master one day tried to escape the usual compliments by scampering as fast as possible into a neighboring house. The king perceived him, and sent one of his pages to fetch him back; and, in order to be quite sure that he was what he represented himself to be, the king obliged him on the spot to dance a saraband.

4. A still harder sentence was pronounced on another French dancing-master, who met the king on horseback in the public road, and set off at a gallop, without paying any attention to the king's desire that he should stop. The king despatched a page after him, who at length found him secreted in a hay-loft. When brought before the king, he passed himself off as the travelling agent of a commercial house at Marseilles; but this story having turned out to be false, the king sentenced him to cart rubbish for one month at the rebuilding of St. Peter's Church.

5. A Jew boy, who, in order to avoid meeting him in a very narrow street, endeavored to get away as fast as possible, was overtaken by the king. Why do you run away ?" said he to him. “Because I am afraid," replied the trembling boy. “ You should not be afraid of me; you ought to love me,” rejoined the king, at the same time letting him feel the weight of his cane.

6. Persons, however, who knew how to return an answer, often made their fortune. The king one day stopped in the street a young student in theology, and finding that he was a native of Berlin, said, “ Ah! the Berlin people are good for nothing !" “That may be true in the main," answered the student, “but I know two natives of Berlin who are exceptions to this rule." “ And who are they ?" asked the king. “Your majesty and myself,” replied the student. The king desired him to call at the palace the next day, and having passed a very favorable examination, he was immediately appointed to a vacant living.


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7. When the king was prevented from riding either by the weather or by attacks of the gout, to which he had been subject since 1929, he generally drove out in an open chaise, attended by two or three officers. When, however, the weather was too unfavorable, or the attacks of the gout too painful, the king used to amuse himself after dinner with painting, an occupation which he considered as promoting digestion.

8. Though there were several eminent painters belonging to the academy, the king generally employed one Master Hänschen Adelfing, who used to prepare his colors and paint portraits of tall grenadiers, servants and peasants. He was paid an annual salary of a hundred dollars, and a florin for every day on which he gave a lesson; but he received more blows than florins: for every touch of the brush in which the king did not succeed, he was sure of feeling the cane.

9. A second assistant, who understood something of painting, was now and then called in; but when the king wished to paint some portrait particularly well, he sent for the courtpainter, Weidemann. As we may imagine, there was nothing extraordinary in any of these performances. A picture-dealer, named Schütz, however, offered the king a louis-d'or for every picture.

10. His majesty one day sent for him to ascertain how much he could earn by his profession, and, as it took him five days to paint a portrait, he was satisfied that he should at least be able to support himself by painting, as he calculated that he could live on a dollar a day. Some of the members of the Smoking Club having expressed their doubts as to whether his majesty could maintain himself by his painting, he sent for a well known picture-dealer, and offered to sell him some of his pictures.

11. As the dealer could not refuse such an offer, he agreed to take them at 100 dollars each; and accordingly displayed them in a conspicuous part of the shop with this notice : " Painted by His Majesty!" This public exhibition was not agreeable to the king, who returned the money, and begged

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to have the pictures back. To this the dealer would not consent: saying that it was impossible for him to part with such valuable paintings for the very low cost price; and the king was obliged to allow him a considerable profit.



1. A KNIFE, dear wife, cuts love, they say

Mere modish love perhaps it may ;
For any tool of any

Can sep'rate what was never joined.
The knife that cuts our love in two
Will have much tougher work to do:
Must cut your softness, worth and spirit
Down to the vulgar size of merit;
To level yours with modern taste,
Must cut a world of sense to waste;
And from your single beauty's store
Clip what would dizen out a score.

2. The self-same blade from me must sever

Sensation, judgment, sight, forever!
All mem’ry of endearments past,
All hope of comforts long to last,
All that makes fourteen years


you A summer-and a short one too: All that affection feels and fears, When hours, without you, seem like years. Till that be done (and I'd as soon Believe this knife will clip the moon) Accept my present undeterred, And leave their proverbs to the herd.

* On presenting her with a handsome pen-knife.


1. How beautiful is the rain !

After the dust and heat,
In the broad and fiery street,
In the narrow lane,
How beautiful is the rain !

2. How it clatters along the roofs,

Like the tramp of hoofs !
How it gushes and struggles out
From the throat of the overflowing spout !
Across the window pane

pours ;
And swift and wide,
With a muddy tide,
Like a river down the gutter roars
The rain, the welcome rain !

3. The sick man from his chamber looks

At the twisted brooks ;
He can feel the cool
Breath of each little pool;
His fevered brain
Grows calm again,
And he breathes a blessing on the rain.


4. From the neighboring school

Come the boys,
With more than their wonted noise
And commotion;
And down the wet streets
Sail their mimic fleets,
Till the treacherous pool
Engulfs them in its whirling
And turbulent ocean.

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5. In the country, on every side,

Where far and wide,
Like a leopard's tawny and spotted hide,
Stretches the plain,
To the dry grass and the drier grain
How welcome is the rain !

6. In the furrowed land

The toilsome and patient oxen stand;
Lifting the yoke-encumbered head,
With their dilated nostrils spread,
They silently inhale
The clover-scented gale,
And the vapors that arise
From the well watered and smoking soil.
For this rest in the furrow after toil,
Their large and lustrous eyes
Seem to thank the Lord,
More than man's spoken word.

7. Near at hand,

From under the sheltering trees,
The farmer sees
His pastures, and his fields of grain,
As they bend their tops
To the numberless beating drops
Of the incessant rain.
He counts it as no sin
That he sees therein
Only his own thrift and gain.

8. These, and far more than these,

The Poet sees !
He can behold
Aquarius old
Walking the fenceless fields of air;

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