Now vas taller as hees fader, Und vas oup to all sooch dhings Dot he boxes mit "adthledics," Times vas deeferent, now, I dold you, Dhen Katrine she make hees drowsers Now, dhere vas no making ofer Shust der oder day dot Yawcob Und vhen I vas got oxcited, Und say he get "schwiped" und fooled, Had der "inside drack" on "Atch-" Dot vas too mooch for hees fader, Dhen in bolitics he dabbles, Und all qvesdions, great und schmall, Make no deeferent to dot YawcobFor dot poy he knows id all. Und he say dot dhose oldt fogies Vell! I vish I vas dransborted Vhen dot schafer beat der milk-ban, HOW AN ENGINEER WON HIS BRIDE. An "Engineer's Story," in form regulation, I loved Sallie Jenkins-a name that's not takin' We met, an' as soon as her pirty eyes hit me, I found she wuz willin', but then her ole daddy He'd draw back the hammer, so I would go dead. I knowed he would do it, yes, 'cause the ole party Hed won much renown fer sich innocent capers. His appetite allers fer fightin' wuz hearty, 'N much he hed done I hed read in the papers. But fortune hit allers smiles out on two lovers, One evenin' at dusk, when the moon wuz up creepin', My train near her home wuz a-chargin' with might; Ahead, near the track, there wuz sumthin' a-leapin', Then a form uv a woman grew quick on my sight! She seemed all unconscious uv what she wuz doin'; She heeded no whistle,-stepped right on the track; Her form to the rails soon the wheels would be gluin' Unless by a miracle she was jerked back! One chance in a thousand! Reversing the lever, An' makin' a leap an' a grab at one time, I landed her over the bank in a quiver Of terror and gladness-that sweet gal o' mine! Her old dad wuz on me,-his eyes no more gory,- And now for pure fact in this awful narration,— WHEN I AM DEAD. If I to-night were lying dead, Would they who now with scoff and jeer Would they requite me when I'm dead If, looking down in my dead face, They marked the lines of toil and care Which death itself could not efface, Would they not say, "He's happier far Than we who have maligned him are?" If sacrifice for others' need, If craving love where none is given, And so, when I shall come to die, Will rise toward heaven like a prayer. THE BRIDGE OF GLEN ARAY.-CHARLES MACKAY, We passed the bridge with tramping steeds, The waters rushed below, Down from the gorges of the hills We heard the torrents flow. But louder than the roar of streams,- We sang and shouted as we went, We saw a woman gaunt and old With long bare arms, and shriveled face, She seized my bridle suddenly, The horse stood still with fear Her hand was strong and bird-like long, "Oh, shame!" she said, "oh, cruel shame! The clatter of your horses' hoofs Will wake my little child. "Oh, hush! oh, hush! I pray you, hush! I ask no other boon No word be said, and softly tread, The child will waken soon. I die of noises all day long, แ From morn till even-blush, Nor for my sake, but hers, I pray- Much wondered we to hear her words, 'Poor soul!" he said, "we'll do our best "Twill cost no trouble to be kind: She slowly let the bridle fall- But turned to Hugh our anxious eyes, "Poor thing!" he said, while forth we rode As if we trod on snow, "Her brain is turned by sore mischance That happened long ago. Her age was scarcely twenty then, But what it now may be Is somewhat difficult to fix, Between fourscore and three. "Though now she's ugly as a witch, She was a beauty then, And with her gentleness and grace She won the hearts of men. And Donald Bain won hers, and sought They married; but before a year "A little babe was left behind, A fairy thing, 'tis said, With soft blue eyes and golden hair, |