he maintained stoutly that my file had left nothing of his in them. I should not, perhaps, have felt entitled to take so great liberties with them, had I not more than suspected an hereditary vein of poetry in myself, a very near ancestor having written a Latin poem in the Harvard Gratulatio on the accession of George the Third. Suffice it to say, that, whether not satisfied with such limited approbation as I could conscientiously bestow, or from a sense of natural inaptitude, certain it is that my young friend could never be induced to any further essays in this kind. He affirmed that it was to him like writing in a foreign tongue, that Mr. Pope's versification was like the regular ticking of one of Willard's clocks, in which one could fancy, after long listening, a certain kind of rhythm or tune, but which yet was only a poverty-stricken tick, tick, after all, and that he had never seen a sweet-water on a trellis growing so fairly, or in forms so pleasing to his eye, as a fox-grape over a scrub-oak in a swamp. He added I know not what, to the effect that the sweet-water would only be the more disfigured by having its leaves starched and ironed out, and that Pegasus (so he called him) hardly looked right with his mane and tail in curl-papers. These and other such opinions I did not long strive to eradicate, attributing them rather to a defective education and senses untuned by too long familiarity with purely natural objects, than to a perverted moral sense. I was the more inclined to this leniency since sufficient evidence was not to seek, that his verses, wanting as they certainly were in classic polish and point, had somehow taken hold of the public ear in a surprising manner. So, only setting him right as to the quantity of the proper name Pegasus, I left him to follow the bent of his natural genius. Yet could I not surrender him wholly to the tutelage of the pagan (which, literally interpreted, signifies village) muse without yet a further effort for his conversion, and to this end I resolved that whatever of poetic fire yet burned in myself, aided by the assiduous bellows of correct models, should be put in requisition. Accordingly, when my ingenious young parishioner brought to my study a copy of verses which he had written touching the acquisition of territory resulting from the Mexican war, and the folly of leaving the question of slavery or freedom to the adjudication of chance, I did myself indite a short fable or apologue after the manner of Gay and Prior, to the end that he might see how easily even such subjects as he treated of were capable of a more refined style and more elegant expression. Mr. Biglow's production was as follows: : THE TWO GUNNERS A FABLE Two fellers, Isrel named and Joe, Joe did n't want to go a mite; He felt ez though 't warnt skeercely right, An' kep' apokin' fun like sin An' then arubbin' on it in, Till Joe, less skeered o' doin' wrong Than bein' laughed at, went along. Past noontime they went trampin' round To take their noonin', Joe looked roun' Isrel he ups and grabs his gun; Sez he, "By ginger, here's some fun!" Bang! went queen's-arm, ole gander flopped "I won't agree to no such bender," I'd eat what makes me hol' my nose!" So they disputed to an' fro Till cunnin' Isrel sez to Joe, "Don't le's stay here an' play the fool, Le's wait till both on us git cool, Jest for a day or two le's hide it Now 't wuz the hottest kind o' weather, Fer all the mischief hed been done : An' made his dinner very well on 't. My own humble attempt was in manner and form following, and I print it here, I sincerely trust, out of no vainglory, but solely with the hope of doing good. LEAVING THE MATTER OPEN A TALE BY HOMER WILBUR, A. M. Two brothers once, an ill-matched pair, Not scorning with hard sun-browned hands He did, and made it pay him, too; His wood brought profit when 't was cold, He dug and delved from morn till night, Strove to make profit square with right, Lived on his means, cut no great dash, And paid his debts in honest cash. On tother hand, his brother South Was keeping droves of long-legged swine, And, when they happened to break through, He ought to drive them home again, Meanwhile, South's swine increasing fast, : "Our families are both increasing, |