Xenophon! You remember Dalton laughed at this; and you laughed-for company.

4. You remember that you thought, and Dalton thought, and the senior thought-by a singular coincidence, that the second bottle of champagne was better even than the first. You have a dim remembrance of the senior's saying very loudly, "Clarence-(calling you by your family name) is no spooney;" and drinking a bumper with you in confirmation of the remark. You remember that Dalton broke out into a song, and that for a time you joined in the chorus: you think the senior called you to order for repeating the chorus, in the wrong place. You think the lights burned with remarkable brilliancy; and you remember that a remark of yours to that effect, met with very much such a response from the senior, as he had before employed with reference to Xenophon. You have a confused idea of calling Dalton-Xenophon.

5. You think the meeting broke up with a chorus; and that somebody-you cannot tell who-broke two or three glasses. You remember questioning yourself very seriously, as to whether you were or were not, tipsy. You think you decided you were not, but-might be. You have a confused recollection of leaning upon some one, or something, going to your room: this sense of a desire to lean, you think, was very strong. You remember of being horribly afflicted with the idea of having tried your night key at your tutor's door, instead of your own room: you remember further a hot stove,-made certain indeed, by a large blister which appeared on your hand, next day.

6. You think of throwing off your clothes, by one or two spasmodic efforts, leaning in the intervals, against the bed-post. There is a recollection of an uncommon dizziness afterward, as if your body was very quiet, and your head gyrating with strange velocity, and a kind of centrifugal action, all about the room, and the college, and indeed the whole town. You think that you felt uncontrollable nausea after this, followed by positive sickness :

which waked your chum, who thought you very incoherent, and feared derangement. A dismal state of lassitude follows, broken by the college clock striking three, and by very rambling reflections upon champagne, Xenophon, "Captain Dick," Madge, and the old deacon who clinched his wig in the church.

7. The next morning-(ah, how vexatious that all our follies are followed by a-"next morning!") you wake with a parched mouth, and a torturing thirst: the sun is shining broadly into your reeking chamber. Prayers and recitations are long ago over; and you see, through the door, in the outer room, that hard faced chum, with his Lexicon, and Livy, open before him, working out with all the earnestness of his iron purpose, the steady steps toward preferment and success.

HUMOROUS.

CLXXVII. THE GOUTY MERCHANT AND THE STRANGER.

1. IN Broadstreet building, (on a winter night,)

Snug by his parlor-fire, a gouty wight
Sat all alone, with one hand rubbing

His feet, rolled up in fleecy hose,

With t'other he'd beneath his nose

The Public Ledger, in whose columns grubbing,
He noted all the sales of hops,

Ships, shops, and slops:

Gum, galls, and groceries: ginger, gin,

Tar, tallow, turmeric, turpentine, and tin:

When lo! a decent personage in black,

Entered and most politely said

"Your footman, sir, has gone his nightly track

To the King's Head,

And left your door ajar, which I

Observed in passing by;

And thought it neighborly to give you notice."

Indeed," replied the stranger (looking grave), "Then he's a double knave:

He knows that rogues and thieves by scores

Nightly beset unguarded doors;

And see, how easily might one

Of these domestic foes,

Even beneath your very nose,

Perform his knavish tricks:

Enter your room, as I have done,

Blow out your candles-thus-and thus—,
Pocket your silver candlesticks,

And-walk off-thus "

So said, so done: he made no more remark,
Nor waited for replies,

But marched off with his prize,

Leaving the gouty merchant in the dark.

CLXXVIII. THE HEIGHT OF THE RIDICULOUS.

OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES.

1. I WROTE some lines once on a time

In wondrous merry mood,

And thought, as usual, men would say
They were exceeding good.

They were so queer, so very queer,
I laughed as I would die :

Albeit, in the general way,
A sober man am I.

2. I called my servant, and he came :
How kind it was of him,

To mind a slender man like me,
He of the mighty limb!

"These to the printer" I exclaimed,

And, in my humorous way,

I added (as a trifling jest),

"There'll be the devil to pay."

3. He took the paper, and I watched,
And saw him peep within:

At the first line he read, his face
Was all upon the grin.

He read the next: the grin grew broad,
And shot from ear to ear:

He read the third: a chuckling noise
I now began to hear.

4. The fourth, he broke into a roar :
The fifth, his waistband split :
The sixth, he burst five buttons off,
And tumbled in a fit.

Ten days and nights, with sleepless eye,
I watched that wretched man,
And since, I never dare to write
As funny as I can.

CLXXIX. THE MUSIC GRINDERS.

OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES.

1. THERE are three ways in which men take

One's money from his purse,

And very hard it is to tell

Which of the three is worse; But all of them are bad enough To make a body curse.

2. You're riding out some pleasant day, And counting up your gains:

A fellow jumps from out a bush,

And takes your horse's reins, Another hints some words about A bullet in your brains.

3. Perhaps you're going out to dine,-
Some filthy creature begs

You'll hear about the cannon-ball
That carried off his pegs,

And says it is a dreadful thing
For men to lose their legs.

4. He tells you of his starving wife,
His children to be fed,

Poor little, lovely innocents,
All clamorous for bread;

And so you kindly help to put

A bachelor to bed.

5. You're sitting on your window-seat,
Beneath a cloudless moon:

You hear a sound that seems to wear
The semblance of a tune,

As if a broken fife should strive

To drown a cracked bassoon.

6. And nearer, nearer still, the tide
Of music seems to come,

There's something like a human voice,
And something like a drum:
You sit in speechless agony,

Until your ear is numb.

7. You think they are crusaders, sent
From some infernal clime,
To pluck the eyes of Sentiment,.
And dock the tail of Rhyme,
To crack the voice of Melody,
And break the legs of Time.

8. But hark! the air again is still,
The music all is ground,

And silence, like a poultice, comes

To heal the blows of sound:

It cannot be, it is,—it is,—
A hat is going round.

9. No! Pay the dentist when he leaves A fracture in your jaw,

And pay the owner of the bear,
That stunned you with his paw,
And buy the lobster that has had
Your knuckles in his claw.

10. But if you are a portly man,
Put on your fiercest frown,
And talk about a constable

To turn them out of town;