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Den my friend take me for see some furniture. I ask him what he was buy? He say, "A chest of drawers." We will come to de bridge, but dey put one stop to us: I ask for why? My friend say, "De draw is up. As I have some engagement at two of de clock, and time draws near, you come take some tea with my wife, and we shall go for de theatre to-night." Den he was call to a coachman, and say to it,-"You must draw up closer." I tink I was never see to de finish of de draws!

but de provarbe say, "He is long lain dat vas never turn himself."

When it shall be after de day time, and before de night, I make inquire for my friend his wife. Dey tell me, I was see her in de drawing-room. I go-I see no colour-no pencil of artiste! She tell me my friend was sure he shall catch a cold at de water. I was see him catch noting but fish. After I shall take one cup tea, she say, "I was take anoder when de tea shall draw." So as de provarbe was be, "Dere is many sleep between de cup and his lip." To laugh I was a great inclination; but I tink, "De least dat is said shall be mended directly."

I go for see my sick friend, to one pear of stairs. His sheek was swell more large I ever shall see, wis de ake of his tooth. He say, "I have do much tings for draw de cold out, but I was have to-morrow de Dentiste for draw my tooth; I have been obliged to myself for put blistare behind my ear." Den she say, "De blistare draw nicely." Everyting was draw! as de provarbe say, "It never pains but it roars."

She

I am glad for go-so I take my watch, come down stair, and say, "I am sorry, but tink for go to the theatre-and I'must take time by his doorlock.'" laugh; and I make to myself one opinion-dat she was "cast a ship's eye at me." So before I was went, I see de chest of drawers my friend was buy-so I tink to say someting of de draw myself-and pay over to her one compliment. So I say, "Madame, I shall find much plaisir to see de drawers of your chest," Den I find I

was "put one cart by four horses," and I clear myself out in noting of time.

We

At de theatre, I see one gentleman what I shall know; and he say, "Dis is ver bad house." He was make me to astonish, because it was not tell to me, what it shall be to make one bad house. Den he say, "De play does not draw. In littel time de curtain will draw up. shall see a dance when de scene draw. Now de play draw to one end, and we will withdraw!" Because he was know what all dem draws shall means, he s'pose I was know all-so. I tink as de provarbe, " He measures oder peepel's corns by de bushel."

It shall not be ver soon, when de playhouse was go out; so as I come to de hotel, where I shall take my boards and lodgings, de door was lock! and so I was ver much put out, because I tink, I "may go with my father and fare not so well."

Den I was go a small tavern- a leetel house-in de street, where dey shall not go to bed so quick. I ask dem for some sup; dey give me leetel bit of bread and cheese. I say, I was hope I shall be put to bed agreeable dey put me in garret! and all de night twentyeleven rats shall run 'bout, as if to play at a blindman's buff.

When de morning shall come to me, everybody see I was blow up very much to de landlord, and I say, "I pay you, and take de leaves of your house, in one minuet." He say, "Ver well, I shall draw your bill out." I den tink of de provarbe, "Short reckonings make friends ver long." I look my bill--begar! he was five pounds! He tink I was not up to his snuff. I say he was one imposition. "You sharge me five pounds for dat bread, and sheese, and garret, and rats, ah!" He say, "Yes, and dey was sheep enough, too. It shall not be my fault dat sometin draws dem rascal rats to my garret. I shall give ten pounds for nevare have dem come to my house."

I was not in hurry for pay de five pounds-so I say to him, "I know sometin what shall make dem not

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come nevare to your house." He say, "If you shall tell him for me, I no sharge you five pounds, and give you five pounds to boots-dat shall be ten pounds for you, ha?" I tell him, "Yes," but I tink wid de provarbe, "He was shoot wis a piejohn and kill a crow-bar.” Den I take de five pounds, and say, Sare, you first will take one leetle bit bread and sheese; ver well, put dem in your garret! ver well-de rat shall come for eat dem! ver well-you say to dem rat, 'I sharge five pounds for dat bread and sheese.' I be hang if ever you see dem again!" So I learn ver well what it is to draw him in, and I say wid de provarbe, "It is a sick wind dat nobody blows good."

CHRISTMAS AND ITS EMBLEMS

(THE BOX, THE LAUREL, AND THE HOLLY).
MRS. WM. HEY.

[Mrs. Hey is the wife of William Hey, Esquire, of Leeds, one of a family eminent for works on surgery and theology. She is the authoress of "The Month of Flowers," "The Spirit of the Woods," "Recollections of the Lakes," and "Holy Places," all works which display high poetic powers combined with feminine grace and tenderness. The poem now printed is the concluding one of "The Spirit of the Woods." London: Longmans, 1839.]

'Tis Christmas! Holy season, hail!

What though the sun be dim and pale?
What though through leafless trees the gale

And not a flower is left to tell

Makes sullen moan,

Of summer gone?

Yet, for the memories thou dost bring,
The blessed hopes thou bid'st upspring,
I'll greet with gladlier welcoming

Thy gloomy hours.

Sunshine and flowers.

Than those bright months which round them fling

Nor wak'st thou solemn thoughts alone,
Thy spell the social virtues own:
Who has not felt how sweet the tone,

The smile how bland,

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'Tis joy to hear the sullen north Summon the rushing tempest forth; For then around the social hearth

Friend meeteth friend,

And kindly words and looks of mirth

Sweet influence lend.

But is't in mirth they always meet?
Alas! sometimes a vacant seat
Bespeaks the circle incomplete;

Some voice is mute,

Whose welcome was aforetime sweet

As evening lute.

Then, then indeed, a tear will stray,
As they the lessened group survey,
That group with other smiles once gay;

And who would blame

The tear affection well may pay

To Memory's claim?

But whilst from Friendship's silken string
Each year some pearl is scattering,
We're taught by each lost year to cling

More firm and true

To those yet spared by Time's rude wing

The cherish'd few.

The cherish'd few! Ah! who may tell
What pathos in those words doth dwell?
A voice of meeting and farewell

Blends in the sound,

Weaving a monitory spell

The heart around.

But hush, my harp!-such plaintive lay
Unseemly greets this blessed day;
How often, when I would be gay,

Thought backward steers

Her course, then joy to grief gives way,

And hopes to fears.

Yet, whilst I muse on change and death,
Till earth seems cleft my feet beneath,
Oh! may this storm-surviving wreath

A thought supply,

That they who live the life of faith

"Shall never die!"

(By permission of the Author.)

THE QUARREL OF BRUTUS AND CASSIUS.

SHAKSPEARE.

Cas. That you have wrong'd me, doth appear in this : You have condemn'd and noted Lucius Pella

For taking bribes here of the Sardians;
Wherein my letter (praying on his side,
Because I knew the man,) was slighted of.

Bru. You wrong'd yourself to write in such a case.
Cas. In such a time as this, it is not meet

That every

nice offence should bear its comment. Bru. Yet let me tell you, Cassius, you yourself Are much condemn'd to have an itching palm;

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