Fal. Do so, for it is worth listening to. These nine in buckram that I told thee of

Henry. So, two more already.

Fal. Their points being broken,-began to give me ground; but I followed me close, came in foot and hand, and with a thought, seven of the eleven I paid.

Henry. Oh, monstrous! eleven buckram men grown out of two!

Fal. But, as ill luck would have it, three misbegotten knaves, in Kendal green, came at my back, and let drive at me; for it was so dark, Hal, that thou couldst not see thy hand.

Henry. These lies are like the father that begets them; gross as a mountain, open, palpable. Why, thou knotty-pated fool; thou greasy tallow-tub.

Fal. What, art thou mad? art thou mad? is not the truth the truth?

Henry. Why, how couldst thou know these men in Kendal green, when it was so dark thou couldst not see thy hand? Come, tell us your reason; what sayst thou to this? Come, your reason, Jack, your reason.

Fal. What, upon compulsion ?-no. Were I at the strappado, or all the racks in the world, I would not tell you on compulsion. Give you a reason upon compulsion! If reasons were as plenty as blackberries, I would give no man a reason upon compulsion.

Henry. I'll be no longer guilty of this sip. This sanguine coward, this bed-presser, this horse-back breaker, this huge hill of flesh

Fal. Away, you starveling, you eel-skin, you dried neat's tongue, you stock-fish! Oh, for breath to utter what is like thee! you taylor's yard, you sheath, you bow-case, you vile standing tuck,

Henry. Well, breathe awhile, and then to it again; and when thou hast tired thyself in base comparisons, hear me

speak but this: Poins and I saw you four set on four; you bound them, and were masters of their wealth: mark now, how a plain tale shall put you down. Then did we two set on you four, and with a word, outfaced you from your prize, and have it, yea, can show it you here in the house. And, Falstaff, you carried your paunch away as nimbly, with as quick dexterity, and roared for mercy, and still ran and roared, as ever I heard a bull-calf. What a slave art thou, to hack thy sword as thou hast done, and then say it was in fight? What trick, what device, what starting hole canst thou now find out, to hide thee from this open and apparent shame ?

Fal. Ha! ha! ha! D'ye think I did not know you, Hal? Why, hear ye, my master, was it for me to kill the heir apparent? should I turn upon the true prince? why, thou knowest I am as valiant as Hercules. But beware instinct; the lion will not touch the true prince; instinct is a great matter. I was a coward on instinct, I grant you; and I shall think the better of myself and thee during my life; I for a valiant lion, and thou for a true prince. But I am glad you have the money. Let us clap to the doors; watch to-night, pray tomorrow. What! shall we be merry? shall we have a play extempore ?

Henry. Content!—and the argument shall be, thy running

away.

Fal. Ah! no more of that, Hal.

LESSON LII.

DIAMOND CUT DIAMOND.

KENNEY.

Jeremy Diddler. Tol

through a glass at Sam.)

my hopes! an untutored clod. My clamorous stomach, be of

lol de riddle lol-eh! (Looking The new waiter!—a very clod, by

good cheer! Young man, how d'ye do? Step this way, will you? A novice, I perceive. And how d'ye like your new line of life?

Sam. Why, very well, thank you. How do you like your

old one?

Did. (Aside.) Disastrous accents! a Yorkshireman! What is your name, my fine fellow?

Sam. Sam. You need n't tell me yours-I know you, my fine fellow !

Did. (Aside.) Oh, fame! fame! you incorrigible gossip! But nil desperandum-at him again! (To Sam.) A prepos sessing physiognomy, open and ruddy, importing health and liberality. Excuse my glass, I'm short-sighted. You have the advantage of me in that respect.

Sam. Yes, I can see as far as most folks.

Did. (Turning away.) Well, I'll thank ye to-oh, Sam, you haven't got such a thing as a tenpence about you, have you?

Sam. Yes (They look at each other, Diddler expecting to receive it,)—and I mean to keep it about me, you see.

Did. Oh-ay-certainly. I only asked for information. Sam. Hark! there's the stage coach comed in. I must go and wait upon the passengers. You'd better ax some of them —mayhap, they mun gi' you a little better information. Did. Stop! harkye, Sam! you can get me some breakfast, first. I'm very sharp set, Sam; you see I came a long walk from over the hills, and—

Sam. Ay, and you see I come fra Yorkshire.

Did. You do; your unsophisticated tongue declares it. Superior to vulgar prejudices, I honor you for it, for I'm sure you'll bring me my breakfast as soon as any other countryman. Sam. Ay; well, what will you have?

Did. Anything!—tea, coffee, an egg, and so forth.

Sam. Well, now, one of us, you understand, in this trans

action, mun have credit for a little while. That is, either I mun trust you for t' money, or you mun trust me for t' breakfast. Now, as you 're above vulgar preju-prejudizes, and seem to be vastly taken wi' me, and, as I am not so conceited as to be above 'em, and a'n't at all taken wi' you, you'd better give me the money, you see, and trust me for t' breakfast - he! he! he!

Did. What d'ye mean by that, Sam?

Sam. Or, may hap, you'll say me a bon-mot.

Did. Sir, you're getting impertinent.

Sam. Oh! what-you don't like the terms? Why, then, as you sometimes sing for your dinner, now you may whistle for your breakfast, you see: he! he! he!

LESSON LIII.

THE LITTLE REBELS.

ANONYMOUS,

GENERAL HOW-HIS AID-SENTINEL GEORGE-JAMES-BOYS.

SCENE 1-Boston Common-A crowd of boys assembled near the skating pond.

George. Here it is again, boys. The ice is all broken in by the red-coats. We shall have no fun to-day.

James. I wish we were not boys. If I were big enough to carry a sword and a musket, I would drive 'em out of the land, faster than neighbor Tuft's dog ever went out of father's

store.

George. And what if we are boys? I, for one, have no mind to bear this treatment any longer.

All. Right, George, right!

James. But what can we do, boys?

George. I'll tell you. Form a line of march, and with drum, and fife, and colors, wait upon General Howe, at his tent, and tell him we will not be insulted by British soldiers, nor any other soldiers.

All. Hurra! hurra! hurra! (Exeunt. A short pause, and then again ringing without.) Hurra! hurra! hurra!

SCENE 2-General Howe's head-quarters-A sentinel pacing before the door, with a musket over his shoulder-Noise of fife and drum at a distance.

Sentinel. What in the name of wonder can that be? Are they up in arms again in this rascally town? A troop of a hundred boys, as I live. An Indian painted on their flag, and no sign of the English cross. Oh, the land is full of rebellion. It is full of it, and running over. (The boys halt in front of the tent, and George approaches the sentinel, with the standard in his hand.)

George. We are Boston boys, sir.

Sentinel. And what do you want here?

George. We come for our rights; and we wish to speak to the British general.

Sentinel. The British general has better business than listening to a parcel of ragamuffin little rebels; I shall do none of your messages.

George. As you please, sir; but here we wait till we see General Howe. We will see him; and he shall do us justice.

All. Hurra! hurra! hurra!

Sentinel. That, you little rascals, would be to hang you and your cowardly countrymen. I suppose you are making all this fuss about the little dirty pond on the common, that