XVII. When Venice and Rome keep their new jubilee, When your flag takes all heaven for its white, green and red, When you have your country from mountain to sea, When King Victor has Italy's crown on his head What then? (And I have my dead), XVIII. Do not mock me. Ah, ring your bells low, And burn your lights faintly!-My country is there, Above the star pricked by the last peak of snow, My Italy's there, with my brave civic pair, To disfranchise despair. XIX. Forgive me. Some women bear children in strength, XX. Dead! one of them shot by the sea in the west, ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING. JIMMY BUTLER AND THE OWL. 'Twas in the summer of '46 that I landed at Hamilton, fresh as a new pratie just dug from the "ould sod," and wid a light heart and a heavy bundle I sot off for the township of Buford, tiding a taste of a song, as merry a young fellow as iver took the road. Well, I trudged on and on, past many a plisint place, pleasin' myself wid the thought that someday I might have a place of my own, wid a world of chickens and ducks and pigs and childer about the door; and along in the afternoon of the sicond day I got to Buford vil lage. A cousin of me mother's, one Dennis O'Dowd, lived about sivin miles from there, and I wanted to make his place that night, so I inquired the way at the tavern, and was lucky to find a man who was goin' part of the way an' would show me the way to find Dennis. Sure he was very kind indade, and when I got out of his wagon he pointed me through the wood and tould me to go straight south a mile an' a half, and the first house would be Dennis's. "An' you've no time to lose now," said he, "for the sun is low, and mind you don't get lost in the woods." "Is it lost now," said I, "that I'd be gittin, an' me uncle as great a navigator as iver steered a ship across the thrackless Say! Not a bit of it, though I'm obleeged to ye for your kind advice, and thank yiz for the ride. " An' wid that he drove off and left me alone. I shouldered me bundle bravely, an' whistlin' a bit of a tune for company like, I pushed into the bush. Well, I went a long way over bogs, and turnin' round among the bush an' trees till I began to think I must be well nigh to Dennis's. But, bad cess to it all of a sudden I came out of the woods at the very identical spot where I started in, which I knew by an ould crotched tree that seemed to be standin' on its head and kickin' up its heels to make divarsion of me. By this time it was growin' dark, and as there was no time to lose, I started in a second time, determined to keep straight south this time, and no mistake. I got on bravely for a while, but och hone! och hone! it got so dark I couldn't see the trees, and I bumped me nose and barked me shins, while the miskaties bit me hands and face to a blister; an' after tumblin' and stumblin' around till I was fairly bamfoozled, I sat down on a log, all of a trimble to think that I was lost intirely an' that maybe a lion or some other wild craythur would devour me before morning. Just then I heard somebody a long way off say, "Whip poor Will!" “Bedad,” sez I, "I'm glad it isn't Jamie that's got to take it, though it seems it's more in sorrow than in anger they are doin' it, or why should they say, 'poor Will?' an' sure they can't be Injin, haythin, or naygur, for it's plain English they're afther spakin'. Maybe they might help me out o' this, so I shouted at the top of my voice, "A lost man! Thin I listened. Prisently an answer came. "Who? Whoo? Whooo?" 66 Jamie Butler, the waiver!" sez I, as loud as I could roar, and snatchin' up me bundle an' stick, I started in the direction of the voice. Whin I thought I had got near the place I stopped and shouted again, "A lost man!" "Who! Whoo! Whooo!" said a voice right over my head. "Sure," thinks I, "it's a mighty quare place for a man to be at this time of night; maybe it's some settler scrapin' sugar off a sugar-bush for the children's breakfast in the mornin'. But where's Will and the rest of them ?" All this wint through me head like a flash, an' thin I answered his inquiry. "Jamie Butler, the waiver," sez I; "if it wouldn't inconvanience yer honor, would yez be kind enough to stepdown and show me the way to the house of Dennis O'Dowd ?" "Who! Whoo! Whooo!" sez he. "Dennis O'Dowd," sez I, civil enough, "and a dacent. man he is, and first cousin to me own mother." "Who! Who! Whooo!" sez he again. "Me mother!" sez I, "and as fine a woman as iver peeled a biled pratie wih her thumb nail, and her maiden name was Molly McFiggin." "Who! Whoo! Whooo !" "Paddy McFiggin, bad luck to yer deaf ould head! Paddy McFiggin, I say do ye hear that? An' he was the tallest man in all the county Tipperary, excipt Jim Doyle, the blacksmith." "Who! Whoo! Whooo! 66 Jim Doyle the blacksmith," sez I, "ye good for nothin' blaggurd naygur, and if yiz don't come down and show me the way this min't, I'll climb up there and break every bone in your skin, ye spalpeen, so sure as my name is Jimmy Butler!" "Who! Whoo! Whooo!" sez he, as impudent as iver. I said niver a word, but lavin' down me bundle, and takin' me stick in me teeth, I began to climb the tree. Whin I got among the branches I looked quietly around till I saw a pair of big eyes just forninst me. Whist," sez I, "and I'll let him have a taste of an Irish stick," and wid that I let drive and lost me balance an' came tumblin' to the ground, nearly breaking me neck wid the fall, Whin I came to my sinsis I had a very sore head wid a lump on it like a goose egg, and half of me Sunday coat-tail torn off intirely. I spoke to the chap in the tree, but could git niver an answer, at all at all. Sure, thinks I, he must have gone home to rowl up his head, for by the powers I didn't throw me stick for nothin'. Well, by this time the moon was up and I could see a little, and I detarmined to make one more effort to reach Dennis's. I wint on cautiously for a while' an' thin I heard a bell. "Sure," sez I, "I'm comin' to a settlement now, for I hear the church bell." I kept on toward the sound till I came to an ould cow wid a bell on. She started to run, but I was too quick for her, and got her by the tail and hung on, thinkin' that maybe she would take me out of the woods. On we wint, like an ould country steeple-chase, till, sure enough, we came out to a clearin' and a house in sight wid a light in it. So, leavin' the ould cow puffin' and blowin' in a shed, I went to the house, and as luck would have it, whose should it be but Dennis's! He gave me a raal Irish welcome, and introduced me to his two daughters - as purty a pair of girls as iver ye clapped an eye on. But whin I tould him me adventure in the woods, and about the fellow who made fun of me, they all laughed and roared, and Dennis said it was an owl. "An ould what? sez I. 66 'Why, an owl, a bird," sez he. "Do ye tell me now?" sez I, "Sure it's a quare country and a quare bird." And thin they all laughed again, till at last I laughed myself, that hearty like, and dropped right into a chair between the two purty girls, and the ould chap winked at me and roared again. Dennis is me father-in-law now, and he often yet delights to tell our children about their daddy's adventure wid the owl. ANONYMOUS. PROGRAMME NO. 6. "UGLY SAM." He had been missing from the "Potomac" for several days, and Cleveland Tom, Port Huron Bill, Tall Chicago, and the rest of the boys who were wont to get drunk with him, could not make out what had happened. They hadn't heard that there was a warrant out for him, had never known of his being sick for a day, and his absence from the old haunts puzzled them. They were in the Hole-in-the-Wall saloon yesterday morning, nearly a dozen of them, drinking, smoking and playing cards, when in walked Ugly Sam. There was a deep silence for a moment as they looked at him. Sam had a new hat, had been shaved clean, had on a clean collar and a white shirt, and they didn't know him at first. When they saw it was Ugly Sam they uttered a shout and leaped up. "Yank that collar off!" shouted another. "Let's roll him on the floor!" screamed a third. There was something in his look and bearing that made them hesitate. The whisky-red had almost faded from his face, and he looked sober and dignified. His features expressed disgust and contempt as he looked around the room, and then revealed pity as his eye fell upon the red eyes and bloated faces of the crowd before him. "Why, what ails ye, Sam?" inquired Tall Chicago, as they all stood there. "I've come down to bid you good-by, boys!" he replied, removing his hat and drawing a clean handkerchief from his pocket. "What! Hev ye turned preacher?" they shouted in chorus. 66 Boys, ye know I can lick any two of ye, but I am not on the fight any more, and I've put down the last drop of |