"Not I, indeed." "Why, then, let me, I pray."
"Well, do; and see what prating tongues will say.”

The boy was mounted; and they had not got
Much further on, before another knot,

Just as the ass was pacing by, pad, pad,
Cried, "O! that lazy looby of a lad!
How unconcernedly the gaping brute
Lets the poor aged fellow walk a-foot."

Down came the son, on hearing this account,

And begged and prayed, and made his father mount; Till a third party, on a further stretch,

See! see exclaimed, "that old hard-hearted wretch! How like a justice there he sits, or squire;

While the poor lad keeps wading through the mire."

"Stop," cried the lad, still vexed in deeper mind,
Stop, father, stop; let me get on behind."
This done, they thought they certainly should please,
Escape reproaches, and be both at ease;

For, having tried each practicable way,
What could be left for jokers now to say?

Still disappointed by succeeding tone,

"Hark ye, you fellows! Is that ass your own?
Get off, for shame! or one of you, at least!
You both deserve to carry the poor beast,
Ready to drop down dead upon the road,
With such a huge unconscionable load."

On this they both dismounted; and, some say,
Contrived to carry, like a truss of hay,
The ass between 'em; prints, they add, are seen
With man and lad, and slinging ass between;
Others omit that fancy in the print,

As overstraining an ingenious hint.

The copy that we follow says, the man

Rubbed down the ass, and took to his first plan,

Walked to the fair, and sold him, got his price,
And gave his son this pertinent advice:
"Let talkers talk; stick thou to what is best;
To think of pleasing all-is all a jest."

COME AND GO.

SHARPE.

DICK DAWDLE had land worth two hundred a-year,
Yet from debt and from dunning he never was free,
His intellect was not surprisingly clear,

But he never felt satisfied how it could be.

The raps at his door, and the rings at his gate,

And the threats of a jail he no longer could bear; So he made up his mind to sell half his estate,

Which would pay all his debts, and leave something to spare

He leased to a farmer the rest of his land

For twenty-one years; and on each quarter day
The honest man went with the rent in his hand,
His liberal landlord, delighted, to pay.

Before half the term of the lease had expired,
The farmer, one day, with a bagful of gold,
Said, "Pardon me, sir, but I long have desired
To purchase my farm, if the land can be sold.

"Ten years I've been blest with success and with health,
With trials a few-I thank God, not severe-

I am grateful, I hope, though not proud of my wealth,
But I've managed to lay by a hundred a year.”

"Why how," exclaimed Dick, " can this possibly be?"
(With a stare of surprise, and a mortified laugh);
"The whole of my farm proved too little for me,
And you, it appears, have grown rich upon half."

"I hope you'll excuse me," the farmer replies,

"But I'll tell you the cause, if your honor would know;

In two little words all the difference lies,

I always say come, and you used to say go."

"Well, and what does that mean, my good fellow ?” he said. Why this, sir, that I always rise with the sun;

You said 'go' to your man, as you lay in your bed,
I say, 'Come, Jack, with me,' and I see the work done."

Says Hans Von Schmidt, who keeps saloon,

"I want to get un vrow,

As helps me make der lager pier,

Und milks de prindle cow;

To make mine shirts, und cook der krout,

Und eberytings to do;

To feed der horse und slop der pig,
Und tend my papies too."

And even Sam, the barber-man,
At Lize rolls up his eyes,
And talks of matrimonial bliss,

With most heart-rending sighs.
"Ef you don't gub dat lily hand
To dis yer lub-sick nigger,
He puts dis pistol to him head,

And den he pulls the trigger."

'Tis thus mankind rush to their fate, For with a brilliant light,

That little elfin being, Love,

Has power beyond the sight.
Like children's barks, adown the falls,
To waters still below,

Some glide along without a heart,
And some to ruin go.

THE CLEVER IDIOT.

ANONYMOUS,

A BOY, as nursery records tell,
Had dropp'd his drumstick in a well;
He had good sense enough to know
He would be beaten for't, and so
Slily (tho' silly from his cradle)
Took from the shelf a silver ladle,
And in the water down it goes,
After the drumstick, I suppose.

The thing was miss'd, the servants blamed,
But in a week no longer named;
Now this not suiting his designs,
A silver cup he next purloins
(To aid his plan, he never stopp'd),
And in the water down it dropped.

This caused some words and much inquiry, And made his parents rather iry;

Both for a week were vex'd and cross,

And then-submitted to the loss.
At length, to follow up his plan,
Our little, clever idiot man,
His father's favorite silver waiter
Next cast into the wat'ry crater.

Now this, indeed, was what the cook

And butler could not overlook;

And all the servants of the place

Were searched, and held in much disgrace.