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The Emperor to laugh began :
“ The axe, that I may fell the fruit tree; then
THE FINE GENTLEMAN-A PORTRAIT.-SOAME JENYNA.
1. Just broke from school, pert, impudent, and raw,
Expert in Latin, more expert in taw,
2. He back returns, a thing so strange all o'er,
As never ages past produced before ;
3. There, safe in self-sufficient impudence,
Without experience, honesty, or sense,
Unknowing in her interest, trade, or laws,
4. Now, quite a Frenchman in his garb and air,
With graceful bows and condescension rare
5. From hence to White's our virtuous Cato flies,
There sits with countenance erect and wise,
6. Devoted thus to politics and cards,
All worthy acts he wholly disregards;
* Parody on these lines of Sir John Denham:
Though deep yet clear, though gentle yet not dull,
To Figg and Broughton* he commits his breast,
7. Thus, poor in wealth, he labors to no end,
Wretched alone, in crowds without a friend;
BLESSED ALMANACS.-BEN. F. TAYLOR.
1. WHILE I am writing these words, a pair of “bright particular” eyes, just on a level with the table, are following my pen in its eccentric movements over the page. Don't you and I wish our eyes were just on a level with the tables again! And speaking of eyes, where can you find a brighter pair of interrogation-points, than the eyes of a child ? Seeing everything, and turning everything into a query that they
2. Subject yourself for a half hour to one of these youthful inquisitors, and you are more of a philosopher than I take you to be, if he doesn't pose you, in less than half the time.
3. But small as he is, his ambition, like a vine in a garden, has run all over the month of December, and leaved and flowered at a tropical rate, somewhere near the 25th.
“ How many days is it to Christmas ??? “How many Saturdays is it ?" There is no school on Saturdays, and the little rascal keeps his calendar by play-days! Well, let him, for few enough of them he'll find by and by, unless he lives on into the Millennium. 6 And will Santa Claus come?—and how
* One a celebrated prize-fighter, the other a no legs famous boxer.
can he come down the chimney and the stove-pipe ?-and does he come Christmas or New Year's ?" There's that vine of his, a week longer than it was a minute ago.
4. “Oh! have him come Christmas ! Have him come Christmas!” and eyes, and feet, and heart, for that matter, all dance together. Have him come Christmas ! There spoke the child of a larger growth. There peeped out the man, through the disguise of boyhood, thus early drawing on the future, like a gay heir in expectancy, to make up the deficits of the present-an extravagance that has made many a man and woman bankrupt for the amount of a thousand hopes sterling, and “the undivided half” of a life full of happiness.
5. Men have a weary train of days—days of care and toil, if not of tears; but children have, in their calendar, but four or five days in a whole year—Christmas, New Year's, and Birthday, Fourth of July, and Thanksgiving—but they, like great lamps, light up all the year, and keep the little fellows perennial candidates for hope.
6. How much happiness is purchased for how little in the holidays ! And it is easily calculated that if eighteen pence will just render a boy just turned of six, supremely happy, two-and-sixpence will make a lad of nine a prince.
Who wouldn't invest in such property !
7. But those eyes; there they are yet, looking over the table's edge, and I cannot help dreading the time when they will look down upon it, and one can see shadows in them, and the coming of a real tear in them--for children seldom weep —and a heavy light in them, and dimness and death in them.
8. True, there are shadows there now, but they are like those
“by a cloud in a summer-day made, Looking down on a field of blossoming clover.”
A cloud! Life itself is a morning cloud, and whether with shadows or glory, glides swiftly and silently by.
An infidel, who had been attempting to prove that men have no souls, asked a lady, with an air of triumph, what she thought of his philosophy. “It appears to me," she replied, " that you have been employing a good deal of talent to prove yourself a beast."
A PERSIAN FABLE.
A little particle of rain,
That from a passing cloud descended,
My brief existence now is ended !
It chanced to fall into the sea,
And there an open shell received it;
Who from its prison-house relieved it!
KNOWLEDGE and WISDOM, far from being one,
* See note, page 58.