"Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!" I shrieked,

upstarting

"Get thee back into the tempest and the night's Plutonian

shore !

Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath

spoken !

Leave my loneliness unbroken!

door!

quit the bust above my

Take your beak from out my heart, and take your form from off my door!"

Quoth the raven, "Nevermore.”

And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dream-
ing,

And the lamplight o'er him streaming throws his shadow on

the floor;

And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor

Shall be lifted

nevermore.

EDGAR ALLAN POE.

FEZZIWIG'S BALL.

The Ghost stopped at a certain warehouse door, and asked Scrooge if he knew it.

"Know it! Was I apprenticed here!"

They went in. At sight of an old gentleman in a Welsh wig, sitting behind such a high desk that, if he had been two inches taller, he must have knocked his head against the ceiling, Scrooge cried in great excitement, "Why, it's old Fezziwig! Bless his heart, it's Fezziwig, alive again!

Old Fezziwig laid down his pen, and looked up at the clock, which pointed to the hour of seven. He rubbed his hands; adjusted his capacious waistcoat; laughed all over himself, from his shoes to his organ of benevolence; and called out in a comfortable, oily, rich, fat, jovial voice, “Yo ho, there! Ebenezer! Dick!"

A living and moving picture of Scrooge's former self, a

young man, came briskly in, accompanied by his fellow'prentice.

"Dick Wilkins, to be sure!" said Scrooge to the Ghost. "My old fellow-'prentice, bless me, yes. was very much attached to me, was Dick. dear!

There he is. He Poor Dick! Dear,

"No more work to

"Yo ho, my boys! said Fezziwig. night. Christmas eve, Dick! Christmas, Ebenezer! Let's have the shutters up, before a man can say Jack Robinson! Clear away, my lads, and let's have lots of room here! "

Clear away! There was nothing they wouldn't have cleared away, or couldn't have cleared away, with old Fezziwig looking on. It was done in a minute. Every movable was packed off, as if it were dismissed from public life forevermore; the floor was swept and watered, the lamps were trimmed, fuel was heaped upon the fire; and the warehouse was as snug and warm and dry and bright a ballroom as you would desire to see upon a winter's night.

In came a fiddler with a music-book, and went up to the lofty desk, and made an orchestra of it, and tuned like fifty stomach-aches. In came Mrs. Fezziwig, one vast substantial smile. In came the three Miss Fezziwigs, beaming and lovable. In came the six young followers whose hearts they broke. In came all the young men and women employed in the business. In came the housemaid, with her cousin the baker. In came the cook, with her brother's particular friend the milkman. In they all came one after another; some shyly, some boldly, some gracefully, some awkwardly, some pushing, some pulling; in they all came, anyhow and everyhow. Away they all went, twenty couple at once; hands half round and back again the other way; down the middle and up again; round and round in various stages of affectionate grouping; old top couple always turning up in the wrong place: new top couple starting off again, as soon as they got there; all top couples at last, and not a bottom one to help them. When this result was brought about, old Fezziwig, clapping his hands to stop the dance, cried out, "'Well done! and the fiddler plunged his hot face into a pot of porter especially provided for that purpose.

There were more dances, and there were forfeits, and more dances, and there was cake, and there was negus, and there was a great piece of Cold Roast, and there was a great piece of Cold Boiled, and there were mince-pies, and plenty

of beer. But the great effect of the evening came after the Roast and Boiled, when the fiddler struck up "Sir Roger de Coverley." Then old Fezziwig stood out to dance with Mrs. Fezziwig. Top couple, too; with a good stiff piece of work cut out for them; three or four and twenty pair of partners; people who were not to be trifled with; people who would dance, and had no notion of walking.

But if they had been twice as many,-four times,—old Fezziwig would have been a match for them and so would Mrs. Fezziwig. As to her, she was worthy to be his partner in every sense of the term. A positive light appeared to issue from Fezziwig's calves. They shone in every part of the dance. You couldn't have predicted, at any given time, what would have become of 'em next. And when old Fezziwig and Mrs. Fezziwig had gone all through the dance,-advance and retire, turn your partner, bow and courtesy, corkscrew, thread the needle, and back again to your place,Fezziwig cut,-cut so deftly, that he appeared to wink with his legs.

When the clock struck eleven this domestic ball broke up. Mr. and Mrs. Fezziwig took their stations, one on either side the door, and, shaking hands with every person individually as he or she went out, wished him or her a Merry Christmas. When everybody had retired but the two 'prentices, they did the same to them; and thus the cheerful voices died away, and the lads were left to their beds, which were under a counter in the back shop. CHARLES DICKENS.

THE BOBOLINK.

Once, upon a golden afternoon,
With radiant faces and hearts in tune,
Two fond lovers, in dreaming mood,
Threaded a rural solitude.

Wholly happy, they only knew

That the earth was bright and the sky was blue;
That light, and beauty, and joy, and song
Charmed the way as they passed along;

The air was fragrant with wood and scents—
The squirrel frisked on the roadside fence-

And hovering near them,

"Chee, chee, chink?"

Queried the curious bobolink,

Pausing and peering with sidelong head,
As saucily questioning all they said;

While the oxeye danced on its slender stem,
And all glad nature rejoiced with them.

Over the odorous fields were strown
Wilting winnows of grass new mown,
And rosy billows of clover bloom

Surged in the sunshine and breathed perfume.
Swinging low on a slender limb,

The sparrow warbled his wedding hymn,
And balancing on a blackberry brier,
"Chink! If you wish to kiss her, do!
Do it! do it! You coward you!
Kiss her! Kiss, kiss her! Who will see?
Only we three! we three! we three!"
Under garlands of drooping vines,

Through dim vistas of sweet-breathed pines,
Past wide meadow-fields, lately mowed,
Wandered the indolent country road.

The lovers followed it, listening still,
And loitering slowly, as lovers will,
Entered a gray-roofed bridge that lay,
Dusk and cool, in their pleasant way;
Under its arch a smooth brown stream,
Silently glided with glint and gleam,
Shaded by graceful elms which spread
Their verdurous canopy overhead-
The stream so narrow, the boughs so wide,
They met and mingled across the tide.
Alders loved it, and seemed to keep
Patient watch as it lay asleep,

Mirroring clearly the trees and sky
And the flitting form of the dragon-fly-
Save where the swift-winged swallows played
In and out in the sun and shade,

And darting and circling in merry chase,
Dipped and dimpled its clear, dark face.

Fluttering lightly from brink to brink,
Followed the garrulous bobolink,
Rallying loudly with mirthful din,
The pair who lingered unseen within;
And when from the friendly bridge at last
Into the road beyond they passed,
Again beside them the tempter went,
Keeping the thread of his argument,-
"Kiss her! kiss her! chink-a-chee-chee!
I'll not mention it! Don't mind me!
I'll act sentinel-I can see

All around from this tall beech-tree!"
But, ah, they noted-nor deemed it strange-
In his rollicking chorus a trifling change-
"Do it! do it!"-with might and main
Warbled the tell-tale-" Do it again!"

VAS BENDER HENSHPECKED?

Any shentleman vot vill go round pehind your face, und talk in front of your back apout sometings, vas a shvindler. I heared dot Brown says veek pefore next apout me I vas a henshpecked huspand. Dot vas a lie! De proof of de eating vas in de puddings: I am married tventy years already, and I vas yet not pald-headed. I don't was oonder some pettygoats gofernments; shtill I tinks it vas petter if a feller vill consult mit his vife und got her advises apout sometings or oder.

Dem American vomans don't know sometings nefer apout his huspant's peesness, und vhen dem hart times comes, und not so much money comes in de house, dot makes not some tifference mit her. Shtill she moost have vone of dot pullpack-in-de-front hoop-skirt-pettygoats, mit every kind trimmings. Pooty soon dot huspant gets pankerupted all to pieces. Dey send for de doctor; und vhen de doctor comes de man dies. Den dot vomans vas opliged to marry mit anoder mans vot she don't maype like, mit four or six shildrens, on account of his first vife already, und possobably vone or two mudders-by-law-vone second-handed, und de