But fear held fast the waiter,
He merely stood and stared;
To see such soul-appalling sights
He hadn't come prepared,

While the traveler only laughed the more
To see the man so scared;

And, putting on a serious look,
In solemn accents said,

"There's one thing more to do

Before I get in bed;

Steady yourself against the wall

And just unscrew my head."

-Fowler Bradnack.

CLXXXV.-THE TEST OF PATIENCE.

A PARSON in a country town, while preaching,
The duty of long-sufferance was teaching
And so pathetically did exhort

His congregation, and, in short,

Discourse so much of Job, and how he bore,
With such exceeding patience, his many woes,
Faith 'twas enough to make a man suppose
Job wanted more.

Meaning, I think, 't is very plain,

That, since we give ourselves unnecessary pain,
How would it be if man

Would try a different plan?

And not, when tortured by the gout,
To make wry faces, groan and shout,
But look agreeable and sprightly.
"And do you think, my dearest life,"
Exclaimed the parson's wife;

"That 'tis in human nature to endure

The extreme of woe

Which Job did undergo?

'Tis more than you

Or I could do, I'm sure."

Quoth he, "My dear, your diffidence

Shows, let me tell you, right good sense,
A virtue in your sex we seldom see;
But I may say, twixt you and me,
And that without much vanity,

I do conceive that I, myself, have shown
That patience and that strength of mind
Were not confined

To Job alone."

Thus spoke the modest priest,

And, doubtless, would have said much more
But for the sudden opening of the door;

When in stumps

His clownish servant Numps;

His eyes, wide open, on the parson gazing,

Just like the wight

That drew old Priam's curtains in the night,

To tell him Troy was blazing.

"Well, what's the matter, Numps?

Speak out, why look so pale? Has any thing gone wrong?" Quoth Numps, "The ale!"

Well, has the ale gone sour?"

And then the parson's phiz began to lower. "No, master, no; but, just now, d'ye see,

I chanced to touch the cask, and away rolled he, And all the liquor's spilled about the cellar.” Now, prithee, tell me how the priest behaved; Did he pull off his wig, or tear his hair,

Or, like that silly fellow Job,

Throw ashes on his head and rend his robe?

Ah! no; with tranquil resignation.

He to the man addressed this mild oration,

"You stupid fool, you brute, you bear!"

(The best of priests, 't is said, will sometimes swear,) "So you must meddle, must you,

With the cask? and be cursed to you!

I wish your fingers had been burnt, od rot 'em!
Get down the stairs this instant, wretch,

Or else, by Jupiter, I'll kick you down
From top to bottom!"

Nay, nay," exclaimed the dame,

"Where's all your patience? Fie, for shame!

I beg you'll not forget your text;

Remember Job was not so vexed,

Though he had sons and daughters to bewail." "Plague take Job's sons and daughters, if you choose; Answer me this, did Job e'er lose

A barrel of such ale?"

CLXXXVI.-THE DIRECTOR'S VISIT; OR, A WARNING TO SCHOOL-MASTERS.

You know my darter Nancy is an uncommon smart gal; she takes to larnin' as nateral as a goslin takes to water, and she can git her lessons faster than I can chaw terbacker. I've been sendin' her to the new teacher we hired last term, and she was larnin' some new-fangled notions that's never been taught in these parts afore. One night she was a tellin' me that the teacher had been explainin' to her that the sun neither rose nor set. Then I thought it was time for me to go down to the school-house and find out about it.

So the next mornin' I went down afore school took up, and found the teacher a-standin' in the door. Says I, "Howd'ye?" He was very polite, and invited me into the school-house. So I went in; but when I thought of what he'd been teachin' it riled me up. So says I, "Mr. McQuillister, we've employed you to larn our young 'uns, haint we?" He said he would consent to that preposition. "Well," says I, "what's all this rigamarole about 'stronomy and stuff; about the sun not risin' nor settin'; about the yearth turnin' upside down every day, and sich like infidel stuff you've been puttin' into the heads of your scholars?" Then says he, "come to the blackboard, and I'll draw you a diaphragm of the solar cistern and explain it to you so that you can readily understand it." So he drew a big

round mark, and put some dots inside of it, and a great big white spot in the middle of 'em.

"Now," says he, "the sun is ninety-five millions of miles from the yearth, and "Stop," says I; "how do you

know that? Who's been thar to measure it? What surveyor ever drug his chain over that route, I'd like to know? "Taint so; and it's a whoppin' big humbug," says I. Says he, "It's universally believed by eddycated people, and the scientificers have pruv'd it." Says I, "They don't know nothin' about it; not a bit more nor I do; and they've never been any cluster to the sun than I hev. It's agin nater, sense, and Scripter to say that the sun don't rise and set, for thar's a tex' which maybe you've seed if you ever read the Bible, which I can't scarcely believe you ever did, that says, "from the risin' of the sun to the goin' down thereof." And see here, young man, if you can't teach the children something better than sich fool talk and infidel doctrine, you might as well look out for another settlement where they haint got no churches, and where they never read the Bible. He said he wouldn't quarrel with me, as different men held different views, and he wanted to do what was right, if he knew it.

He asked me to stay awhile and hear the scholars recite, SQ I took a cheer, and sot down, and I heard and seed a good deal that I did n't like, by no manner of means. I found that he was tryin' to larn Nancy things entirely out of the line of eddycation; and, as I think, highly unproper. Fust, I heerd one class say their lesson. They was a-spellin', and, I thought, spelled quite exceedingly. Then come Nancy's turn to say her lesson. She said it very spry, but I was shockt, and determined she should leave that school.

I have heerd that grammar was an uncommon fine study, but I don't want no more grammar about my house. The lesson that Nancy said was nothin' but the foolishest kind of talk, the ridicles luv talk you ever seed. She got up, and the fust word she said was, "I love!" I look right

at her hard for doin' so unproper, but she went right on and said, "Thou lovest, he loves;" and I reckon you never heerd sich a riggymyrole in your life, love, love, love, and nothing but love. She said one time, "I did love." Says I, "Who did you love?" Then the scholars laughed, but I wasn't to be put off, and I says, "Who did you love, Nancy? I want to know; who did you love?" The schoolmaster, Mr. McQuillister, interfered, and said he would explain when Nancy finished her lesson.

This sorter pacified me, and Nancy went on with her awful love talk. It got wuss and wuss every minute. Bimeby she said, "I might, could, would, or should love." I stopped her, and said, I reckoned I would see about that, and told her to walk out of that house. The school-master tried to interfere, but I would n't let him say a word. He said I was a fool, and I knockt him down and made him holler in short order. I talked the straight thing to him; I told him I'd show him how he'd larn my darter grammar.

I got the nabers together, and we sent Mr. McQuillister off in a hurry, and I reckon thar'l be no more grammar teachin' in these parts soon. If you know of any rather oldish man in your reegin that don't teach grammar, we would be glad if you would send him up. But in the future we'll be keerful how we employ men. Young school-masters won't do, especially if they teaches grammar. It's a bad thing for morils.

CLXXXVII.-THE LOUD CALL.

THERE lived a parson, as we're told,
But when or where we know not,
Who oft his nodding flock would scold,
Threat'ning that they to heaven should go not,
But down to hell be hurled

If they would not abjure the world,
And count as dross its filthy mammon, gold.