Each day to the King the reports came in
Of his unsuccessful spies,

And the sad panorama of human woes
Passed daily under his eyes.

And he grew ashamed of his useless life,
And his maladies hatched in gloom;
He opened his windows and let the air
Of the free heaven into his room.

And out he went in the world, and toiled
In his own appointed way;

And the people blessed him, the land was glad,
And the King was well and gay.

JOHN HAY.

THE BRIEFLESS BARRISTER.

An attorney was taking a turn, in shabby habiliments drest; His coat it was shockingly worn, and the rust had invested his vest;

His breeches had suffered a rent, his linen and worsted were

worse,

He had scarce a whole crown in his hat, and not half-a-crown in his purse;

And thus as he wandered along, a cheerless and comfortless elf,

He sought for relief in a song, or complainingly talked to himself:

"Unfortunate man that I am! I've never a client but grief; The case is, I've no case at all, and in brief, I have never a

brief!

"I've waited, and waited in vain, expecting an opening to

find,

Where an honest young lawyer might gain some reward for the toil of his mind.

'Tis not that I'm wanting in law, or lack an intelligent face,

That others have cases to plead, while I have to plead for a case!

"Oh! how can a modest young man ere hope for the smallest progression,

The profession's already so full of lawyers so full of profession!"

While thus he was strolling around, his eye accidentally fell On a very deep hole in the ground, and he sighed to himself, "It is well!"

To curb his emotion he sat on the kerb-stone the space of a minute;

Then cried, "Here's an opening at last!" and in less than a jiffy was in it.

Next morning twelve citizens came ('twas the coroner bade them attend),

To the end that it might be determined how the man had determined his end.

"The man was a lawyer, I hear!" quoth the foreman who sat on the corse;

"A lawyer? alas!" said another, "He undoubtedly died of

remorse."

A third said "He knew the deceased, an attorney well versed in the laws;

And as to the cause of his death, 'twas no doubt from the want of a cause!"

The jury decided at length, after solemnly weighing the

matter,

"That the lawyer was drowned because he could not keep his head above water."

JOHN G. SAXE.

A SEA-DIRGE.

There are certain things-as a spider, a ghost,
The income-tax, gout, an umbrella for three-
That I hate, but a thing that I hate the most,
Is a thing they call the sea.

Pour some salt water on to the floor

Ugly, I'm sure you'll confess it to beSuppose that it extended a mile or more, That's very like the sea.

Pinch a dog till it howls outright

Cruel, but all very well for a spree;―
Suppose that it did so day and night,
That would be like the sea.

I had a vision of nursery-maids,
Tens of thousands passed by me,
All leading children with wooden spades,
And this was by the sea.

Who invented those spades of wood?

Who was it cut them out of the tree? None, I think, but an idiot could,

Or one that loved the sea.

It is pleasant and dreamy, no doubt, to float
With "thoughts as boundless, and souls as free,"

But suppose you are very unwell in the boat,
How do you like the sea?

"But it makes the intellect clear and keen."
Prove it! prove it! how can that be?
Why, what does "B sharp" (in music) mean,

If not the "natural C?”

What! keen? with such questions as 66 When's high tide? Is shelling shrimps an improvement to tea:

Were donkeys intended for man to ride?"

Such are our thoughts by the sea..

There is an insect that people avoid,
(Whence is derived the verb "to flee")
Where have you been by it most annoyed?
In lodgings by the sea.

If

you

like coffee with sand for dregs, A decided hint of salt in your tea, And a fishy taste in the very eggsBy all means choose the sea.

And if, with these dainties to drink and to eat,
You prefer not a vestige of grass or tree,
And a chronic state of wet in your feet,
Then I recommend the sea.

For I have friends who dwell by the coast,
Pleasant friends they are to me;

It is when I am with them, I wonder most
That any one likes the sea.

They take me a walk; though tired and stiff,
To climb the heights I madly agree;
And, after a tumble or so from the cliff,
They kindly suggest the sea.

I try the rocks and think it cool

That they laugh with such an excess of glee,
As I heavily slip into every pool
That skirts the cold, cold sea.

Once I met a friend in the street,

With wife, and nurse, and children three; Never again such a sight may I meet

As that party from the sea.

Their cheeks were hollow, their steps were slow,
Convicted felons they seemed to be;

"Are you going to prison, dear friend?" "Oh, no! We're returning from the sea."

ANONYMOUS.

"YOU ARE OLD, FATHER WILLIAM.”

"You are old, Father William," the young man said,
"And your hair has become very white;

And yet you incessantly stand on your head-
Do you think, at your age, it is right?"

"In my youth," Father William replied to his son,

"I feared it might injure the brain;

But now that I'm perfectly sure I have none,
Why, I do it again and again.”

66

"You are old," said the youth, as I mentioned before,

And have grown most uncommonly fat;

Yet you turned a back-somersault in at the door

Pray, what is the reason of that?"

"In my youth," said the sage, as he shook his gray locks,

"I kept all my limbs very supple

By the use of this ointment-one shilling the box-
Allow me to sell you a couple?"