With often bidding, takes his seat, But at a distance mighty great. Though often asked to draw his chair, He nods, nor comes an inch more near. By madame served, with body bended, With knife and fork and arms extended, He reached as far as he was able To plate, that overhangs the table; With little morsels cheats his chops, And in the passage some he drops. To show where most his heart inclined, He talked and drank to John behind. When drank to, in a modish way, "Your love's sufficient, zur," he'd say: And, to be thought a man of manners, Still rose to make his awkward honors. "Tush!" says the squire; "pray keep your sitting!" "No, no," he cries, "zur, 'tis not fitting: Though I'm no scholar, versed in letters, I knows my duty to my betters." Much mirth the farmer's ways afford, And hearty laughs went round the board. Thus, the first course was ended well But at the next-al! what befell? The dishes were now timely placed, And table with fresh lux'ry graced. When drank to by a neighboring charmer, Up, as usual, starts the farmer. A wag, to carry on the joke, Thus to his servant softly spoke:'Come hither, Dick; step gently there, And pull away the farmer's chair." 'Tis done; his congee made, the clown Draws back, and stoops to sit him down; But, by posteriors overweighed, And of his trusty seat betrayed, As men, at twigs, in rivers sprawling, He caught the cloth to save his falling; In vain!-sad fortune! down he wallowed, And, rattling, all the dishes followed: The fops soon lost their little wits; The ladies squalled-some fell in fits; Here tumbled turkeys, tarts, and widgeons, And there, minced pies, and geese, and pigeons; Lord! what a do 'twixt belles and beaux!Some curse, some cry, and rub their clothes! This lady raves, and that looks down, And weeps, and wails her spattered gown. One spark bemoans his greased waistcoat, One-"Rot him! he has spoiled my laced-coat!" Amidst the rout, the farmer long Some pudding sucked, and held his tongue; At length, rubs his eyes, nostrils twang, Then snaps his fingers, and thus began: "Plague tak't! I'ze tell you how'd 'twould be; Look! here's a pickle, zurs, d'ye see." "Peace, brute, begone!" the ladies cry; The beaux exclaim, "Fly, rascal, fly!" "I'll tear his eyes out!" squeaks Miss Dolly; "I'll pink his soul out!" roars a bully. At this the farmer shrinks with fear, And thinking 'twas ill tarrying here, Runs off, and cries, “Ay, kill me, then, Whene'er you catch me here again!" THE OATH.-By Thomas Buchanan Reud. "Hamlet.-Swear on my sword. Ghost (below).-Swear!"-SHAKSPEARE. YE freemen, how long will ye stifle And shame the proud names of your sires? Out, out with the sword and the rifle, In defence of your homes and your fires! The flag of the old Revolution Swear firmly to serve and uphold, That no treasonous breath of pollution Shall tarnish one star on its fold. Swear! And hark! the deep voices replying In this moment, who hesitates, barters Keel, kneel at the graves of our martyrs, Lay up your great oath on an altar As huge and as strong as Stonehenge, And then, with sword, fire, and halter, Sweep down to the field of revenge, Swear! And hark! the deep voices replying From graves where your fathers are lying, "Swear! Oh, swear!" By the tombs of your sires and brothers, And hark! the deep voices replying On mounds which are wet with the weeping By the blood of our murder'd McCook, And hark! the deep voices replying From graves where your fathers are lying, THE MAIN TRUCK, OR A LEAP FOR LIFE. – 3y Colton. OLD IRONSIDES at anchor lay, In the harbor of Mahon; In sport, up shroud and rigging ran, A shudder shot through every vein,- No hold had he above, below; To that far height none dared to go,- We gazed, but not a man could speak! In groups, with pallid brow and cheek, As riveted unto the spot, Stood officers and crew. The father came on deck:-he gasped, "Jump, far out, boy, into the wave! "That only chance your life can save; He sunk,-he rose,-he lived, he moved,- With many a manly shout. His father drew, in silent joy, Those wet arms round his neck, And folded to his heart his boy,- DRIVING HOME THE COWS. OUT of the clover and blue-eyed grass, Then fastened the meadow bars again. Under the willows and over the hill, Only a boy! and his father had said Under the feet of the trampling foe. But after the evening work was done, And the frogs were loud in the meadow-swamp, Over his shoulder he slung his gun, And stealthily followed the foot-path damp, Across the clover and through the wheat, Thrice since then had the lanes been white, For news had come to the lonely farm That three were lying where two had lain; And the old man's tremulous, palsied arm Could never lean on a son's again. The summer day grew cool and late; He went for the cows when the work was done; But down the lane, as he opened the gate, He saw them coming, one by one,— Brindle, Ebony, Speckle, and Bess, Shaking their horns in the evening wind, The empty sleeve of army blue; For Southern prisons will sometimes yawn, The great tears sprang to their meeting eyes; For the heart must speak when the lips are dumb, And under the silent evening skies Together they followed the cattle home. THE CONFESSION.-Blackwood's Magazine. THERE'S somewhat on my breast, father, The live-long day I sigh, father, A weary weight oppresseth me,- |