Lightly they'll talk of the bachelor gone, And o'er his frail fondness upbraid him; But little he'll reck if they let him alone, With his wife that the parson hath made him. But half of our heavy task was done, When the clock struck the hour for retiring; And we judged by the knocks which had now begun That their cabby was rapidly tiring. Slowly and sadly we led them down, From the scene of his lame oratory; We told the four-wheeler to drive them to town, And we left them alone in their glory. Anonymous. NOT A SOU HAD HE GOT OT a sou had he got-not a guinea or note, NOT As he bolted away without paying his shot, We saw him again at dead of night, All bare and exposed to the midnight dews, "The Doctor's as drunk as the d-," we said, And we managed a shutter to borrow; We raised him, and sighed at the thought that his head Would "consumedly ache" on the morrow. We bore him home, and we put him to bed, Loudly they talked of his money that's gone But little he reck'd, so they let him snore on We tucked him in, and had hardly done Slowly and sadly we all walk'd down From his room in the uppermost story; A rushlight was placed on the cold hearth-stone, And we left him alone in his glory! R. Harris Barbam. THE MARRIAGE OF SIR JOHN NOT OT a sigh was heard, nor a funeral tone, We married him just about eight at night, By the struggling moonbeam's misty light, No useless watch-chain covered his vest, But he looked like a gentleman wearing his best, Few and short were the things we said, But we silently gazed on the man that was wed, We thought, as we silently stood about, How the merest stranger had cut us out, Lightly we'll talk of the fellow that's gone, But little he'll reck if we let him live on, But our heavy task at length was done, Slowly and sadly we turned to go, We had struggled, and we were human; We shed not a tear, and we spoke not our woe, But we left him alone with his woman. Phabe Cary. AFTER MRS. HEMANS "W THE THYROID GLAND E hear thee speak of the thyroid gland, But what thou say'st we don't understand; Professor, where does the acinus dwell? We hashed our dissection and can't quite tell. Is it where the mascula lutea flows, And the suprachordial tissue grows?" "Not there, not there, my class!" "Is it far away where the bronchi part "I have not seen it, my gentle youths, Duct does not lead to its strange recess, It is there, I am told, my class!" R. M. |