As when round the hushed arena's dust a swoon-like silence

tloats, While the Coliseum's victor o'er his dying foeman gloats, And as breaks the sudden plaudit from a hundred thousand

throats. Thus arose the voiceful tumult--thus, with loud and sudden

swell, Up from all those swaying thousands rose the shout no king

might quell: “Cæsar, he hath spoken bravely! Claudius, he hath spoken

well !” Not onmoved the brow of Cæsar--it hath lost the Claudian

frown; And a tear upon his royal cheek is slowly trickling down: Never purer gem than Pity's tear enriched a monarch's

crown! Yet he speaks in anger's accents: “Ho! advance the fasces

now ! Lictors! close ye round the scorner! Ha! barbarian, smil.

est thou ? There is one beneath whose glances even thy haughty soul

shall bow!” Thus spoke Claudius, and the soldiers, opening round the

curule chair, Half revealed a form majestic mid the lictors bending there,Half revealed a stately woman, mantled by her radiant

hair.

Flashed the captive's eye with sunlight, burned his cheek

with new-born lifeHope, and fear, and doubt, and gladness, held by turns their

eager strifeThen two hearts and voices mingled, murmuring, “Hus

band !” answering,“ Wife!

THE GUIDE POST.
In winter, once, an honest traveler wight
Pursued his road to Derby, late at night;
'Twas very cold, the wind was bleak and high,
And not a house nor living thing was nigh;
At length he came to where some four roads met,
(It rained too, and he was completely wet,)
And being doubtful which way he should take
He drew up to the finger-post to make

It out--and after much of poring, fumbling,
Some angry oaths, and a great deal of grumbling,
'Twas thus the words he traced—“To Derby-five."
“A goodly distance yet, as I'm alive!”
But on he drove a weary length of way,
And wished his journey he'd delayed till day;
He wondered that no town appeared in view,-
The wind blew stronger, it rained faster too, -
When to his great relief he met a man:
"I say, good friend, pray tell me, if you can,
How far is't hence to Derby?” “ Derby, hey!
Why zur, thee be'est completely come astray ;
This y’ant the road.” “Why zounds, the guide-post showed
"To Derby, five'-and pointed down this road!"
“Ay dang it, that may be, for you maun know,
The post it war blown down last night, and so
This morn I put it up again, but whether,
As I can't put great A and B together,
The post is right, I'm zure I cannot zay-
The town is just five miles the other way."

HE TRIED TO TELL HIS WIFE.

If there is one thing more than another calculated to throw a man into a gnashing-of-the-teeth and tearing-of the-hair condition, it is his attempt to give the wife of his bosom an account of some ordinary affair. He be gins with:

Oh, my dear, I must tell vou something Jack Bur roughs told me to-day while

Where did you see Jack Burroughs ? answered the wife.

Oh, we went to luncheon together, and
How did you happen to go to luncheon together?

Well, we didn't exactly go out together. I met Jack at the restaurant, and

What restaurant ?
Calloway's, and Jack

How did you happen to go to Calloway's? I thought you always lunched at Draper's?

I nearly always do, but I just happened to drop into Calloway's to-day, along with Jack, and —

Does he always lunch at Calloway's ?

I'm sure, my dear, that I don't know if he does or not. It makes no earthly difference if —

Oh, of course not. I just wondered if he did, that's all. Go on with your story.

Well, while we were eating our soup, Jack -
What kind of soup?
Oxtail. Jack said that
I thought you disliked oxtail soup?
Well, I don't care much about it, but

How did you happen to order it if you didn't care foz it ?

Because I did. But the soup has nothing to do with

the story

Go on.

Oh, of course not. I never said that it did. I don't see why you should get cross over a simple question.

Well, while we were eating our soup, Lawrence Hil. dreth and his wife came in, and

They did ?
I have just said so.
Well, you needn't be so cross about it.
They came in, and
Is she pretty?
Pretty enough. Jack bowed, and —
Does he know them ?

Well, now, do you suppose he would have bc wed it he hadn't known them? I declare if I

How was she dressed ?

How should I know? I never looked at her dress What I was going to tell you was that

Did they sit near you ?

Yes, at the next table. And while they were order. ing Jack said that they

Couldn't they hear him?
Do you suppose that Jack would have no more sense

than to let them hear him talking about them? Look here, now

James, if you can't tell a simple little incident without getting into a passion, you'd better keep it to yourself. What did Jack say?

He said that Mrs. Hildreth's father was opposed to the match, and

How did he know that?
Great Cæsar! There you go again!
James, you will please remember that it is

your

wife to whom you are speaking, sir!

No other woman could drive me raving, distracted, crazy, asking silly questions about —

James !

Every time I try to tell you anything you begin, and you

James I do not propose listening to any such insulting remarks, and

You never listen to anything. That's the trouble. If When I ask you a simple question you —

I'd say "simple!” You've asked me a million simple questions in the last half hour, just because I was going to tell you that Jack Burroughs said that

I do not wish to know what Mr. Jack Burroughs said, if you cannot tell it respectfully. I shall have my dinner sent to my room, since it is so painful for you to eat with an idiot!

And the much-injured wife retires scornfully, while her husband narrowly escapes an attack of apoplexy.

ENCORE! ENCORE!
"Encore! encore !”

Though the danger's past,
And the woman is safe

On her feet at last-
Though the ropes are swinging

High over the net,
And swinging and clinging

And trembling yet

So near to the gas

And its dazzling light, Right over the mass

At a terrible height! The people are calling

Their sickly refrain; The leap was appalling

They'll have it again! When once they see danger

They're bound to want more! “Encore! encore !

Encore! encore !” “ Encore! encore !"

She has heard the cry, And she's climbing once more

To the platform highSo near to the gas

And its dazzling light, Right over the mass,

At a terrible height! From bar to rope,

And from rope to bar, With many a hope

That the end's not far,
She's swinging and clinging,

Not daring to pause,
While the people are singing

Their song of applause!
There's a gasping for breath

In the poisonous air, A warning of death,

And a look of despair! There's a cry near the roof,

Then a thud on the floor! And the people go silently

Out at the door.--
Go silently shrinking

Away froin the hall,
Not speaking, but thinking

Of somebody's fall!
Of a woman who died
In response to the roar,
“Encore! encore !

Encore! encore !"