But John replied with tender, filial care,

"You're old and weak-I'll catch the Dapple Mare."

The mare was saddled, and the old man got on,

The boy on foot trudged cheerfully along, The while, to cheer his sire, the dutious son

Beguiled the weary way with talk and song. Arrived at length, they found the 'Squire at home, And quickly told him wherefore they had come.

The deed was writ in proper form of law,

With many a "foresaid," "therefore," "and the same," And made throughout without mistake or flaw,

To show that John had now a legal claim To all his father's land-conveyed, given, sold, Quit-claimed, et cetera-to have and hold.

Their business done, they left the lawyer's door,
Happier, perhaps, than when they entered there;

And started off as they had done before-
The son on foot, the father on the mare.

But ere the twain a single mile had gone
A brilliant thought occurred to Master John.

Alas for truth!-alas for filial duty!

Alas! that Satan in the shape of pride, (His most bewitching form save that of beauty,) Whispered the lad: "My boy, you ought to ride!" "Get off!" exclaimed the younker, "tisn't fair That you should always ride the Dapple Mare."

The son was lusty, and the sire was old,

And so, with many an oath and many a frown, The hapless farmer did as he was told,

The man got off the steed, the boy got on,
And rode away as fast as she could trot,
And left his sire to trudge it home on foot!

That night, while seated round the kitchen fire,
The household sat, cheerful as if no word
Or deed provoked the injured father's ire,

Or aught to make him sad had e'er occurred—
Thus spoke he to his son: "We quite forgot,
I think, t' include the little turnip lot!

"I'm very sure, my son, it wouldn't hurt it," Calmly observed the meditative sire,

"To take the deed, my lad, and just insert it." Here the old man inserts it—in the fire! Then cries aloud with most triumphant air:

"Who now, my son, shall ride the Dapple Mare!"

Rhyme of the Rail.

INGING through the forests,

Rattling over ridges,

Shooting under arches,

Rumbling over bridges,

Whizzing through the mountains,
Buzzing o'er the vale,
Bless me! this is pleasant,
Riding on the rail!

Men of different stations,
In the eye of Fame,
Here are very quickly
Coming to the same;
High and lowly people,
Birds of every feather,
On a common level,

Traveling together!

Gentlemen in shorts,
Looming very tall;

Gentlemen at large,

Talking very small;

Gentlemen in tights,

With a loose-ish mien;

Gentlemen in gray,

Looking rather green!

Gentlemen quite old,
Asking for the news;
Gentlemen in black,

In a fit of blues;
Gentlemen in claret,

Sober as a vicar; Gentlemen in tweed,

Dreadfully in liquor!

Stranger on the right,

Looking very sunny,

Obviously reading

Something rather funny. Now the smiles are thicker,

Wonder what they mean? Faith, he's got the KnickerBocker Magazine!

Stranger on the left,

Closing up his peepers

Now he snores amain,

Like the seven sleepers;

At his feet a volume

Gives the explanation, How the man grew stupid

From "association!"

Ancient maiden lady

Anxiously remarks

That there must be peril 'Mong so many sparks; Roguish-looking fellow,

Turning to the stranger,

Says 'tis his opinion

She is out of danger!

Woman with her baby
Sitting vis-a-vis;
Baby keeps a-squalling,

Woman looks at me;
Asks about the distance;

Says, 'tis tiresome talking,

Noises of the car

Are so very shocking!

Market woman, careful

Of the precious casket,

Knowing eggs are eggs, Tightly holds her basket; Feeling that a smash,

If it came, would surely Send her eggs to pot,

Rather prematurely!

Singing through the forests,

Rattling over ridges,

Shooting under arches,

Rumbling over bridges,