And thus honest John, though his station was humble, Passed through this sad world without even a grumble; And I wish that some folks, who are greater and richer, Would copy John Tomkins, the hedger and ditcher.

THE MIMIC.

A MIMIC I knew, who, to give him his due,
Was exceeded by none and was equaled by few.

He could bark like a dog; he could grunt like a hog;
Nay, I really believe he could croak like a frog.

Then, as for a bird, you may trust to my word,
"T was the best imitation that ever you heard.

It must be confessed that he copied birds best;
You'd have thought he had lived all his life in a nest.

It happened, one day, that he came in the way
Of a sportsman an excellent marksman, they say.

And near a stone wall, with his little bird-call,
The mimic attempted to imitate all.

So well did he do it, the birds all flew to it;
But, ah! he had certainly reason to rue it.

It turned out no fun, for, the man with the gun,
Who was seeking for partridges, took him for one.

He was shot in the side; and he feelingly cried,
A moment or so ere he fainted and died:

"Who for others prepare a trap, should beware They do not themselves fall into the snare."

THE LESSON OF LOVE. Be not harsh and unforgiving; Live in love, 't is pleasant living! If an angry man should meet thee, And assail thee indiscreetly,

Turn not thou again and rend him, Lest thou needlessly offend him: Show him love hath been thy teacher Kindness is a potent preacher;

Gentleness is e'er forgiving;

Live in love, 't is pleasant living!

5

Why be angry with each other?
Man was made to love his brother;
Kindness is a human duty,

Meekness a celestial beauty.

Words of kindness, if in season,
Have a weight with men of reason.
Don't be others' follies blaming,
And their little vices naming;

Charity's a cure for railing,
Suffers much, is all-prevailing.
Courage, then! and be forgiving;
Live in love, 't is pleasant living!

Hast thou known that bitter feeling
Gendered by our hate's concealing?
Better love, though e'er so blindly,-
Better banish thoughts unkindly.
Words are wind: O! let them never
Friendship's golden love-cord sever!
Nor be angry, though another
Fail to treat thee like a brother:
"Brother," say, "let's be forgiving!
Live in love, 't is pleasant living!"

THE QUARREL OF THE AUTHORS.

1st. SIR, I'm proud to have met you; long have I known Your productions, and wished them (how often!) my own. Your verses have beauties in none other found.

2d. In yours, sir, the Loves and the Graces abound. 1st. Your phrases are neat, your style charmingly light. 2d. We find the pathetic in all that you write.

1st. How sweet your Bu-col'ics! how tender and true! The-oc'ri-tus, surely, was nothing to you.

2d. Your odes have a noble and elegant vein, That even old Horace could never attain.

1st. Can any thing equal your love-ditties rare?

2d. Can aught with your wonderful sonnets compare? 1st. If the public could estimate half of your worth, 2d. If merit now met its due honors on earth,

1st. You would roll through the streets in a carriage of gold. 2d. Every square in the city your statue would hold.

Hem! this ballad of mine (unrolling a manuscript) — your opinion upon it.

I should like to

1st. Pray, sir, have you met with a sonnet On the meeting of Congress

2d. A sonnet? Just so;

'T was read at a party a few nights ago. 1st. Do you know who 's the author?

2d. I know not nor care;

For 't is an exceedingly trifling affair.

1st. Yet many admire it — or so they tell me. 2d. No matter for that, it 's as bad as can be;

And if you had but seen it, sir, you'd think so too. 1st. Dear sir, I am sorry to differ from

you;

But I hold that its merit must every one strike.

2d. May the Muses preserve me from making the like!

1st. (Angrily.) I maintain that a better the world cannot show : For I am the author — yes, İ, you must know.

2d. You?

1st. I.

2d. Well, I wonder how that came to pass.

1st. I had the bad luck not to please you, alas!

2d. Perhaps there was something distracted my head ; Or else the man spoiled it, so badly he read.

I

But here is my ballad, concerning which, I—

1st. The days of the ballad, methinks, are gone by ; 'Tis very old-fashioned, and out of date quite. 2d. Yet, even now, many in ballads delight.

1st. No matter; I think them decidedly flat.

2d. You think them! Perhaps they 're no worse, sir, for that. 1st. For pedants, indeed, they have charms beyond measure. 2d. And yet we perceive that they give you no pleasure. 1st. You give others qualities found but in you. 2d. You call others names that are justly your due. Go, blotter of foolscap! contemptible creature!

1st. Go, scribbler of sonnets, and butcher of meter! 2d. Go, impudent plagiarist! — pedant, get out!

1st. Go, rascal be careful! mind what you 're about. 2d. Go, go! strip your writings of each borrowed plume ; Let the Greeks and the Latins their beauties resume. 1st. Go, you, and ask pardon of Venus and Bacchus, For your lame imitations of jolly old Flaccus.

2d. Remember your book's insignificant sale. 1st. Remember your bookseller driven to jail. 2d. My pen shall avenge me,

to your great disaster.

1st. And mine shall let you know, sir, who is your master. 2d. I defy you in verse, prose, Latin, and Greek!

1st. You shall hear from me, sir, in the course of the week.

IMITATED FROM MOLIÈRE.

KINDNESS.

A LITTLE Spring had lost its way
Amid the grass and fern;
A passing stranger scooped a well,
Where weary men might turn;
He walled it in, and hung, with care,
A ladle at the brink;

He thought not of the deed he did,

But judged that Toil might drink.
He passed again—and, lo! the well,
By summers never dried,

Had cooled ten thousand parched tongues,
And saved a life beside.