"She balances? She wavers! Now let her go about! If she misses stays and broaches to Take in more sail ! Lord, what a gale! Ho, boy, haul taut on the hind mule's tail!" "Ho! lighten ship? ho! man the pump! Ho, hostler, heave the lead! "A quarter-three 'tis shoaling fast! Three feet large !-t-h-r-e-e feet!Three feet scant!" I cried in fright, "Oh, is there no retreat?" Said Dollinger the pilot nian, "Fear not, but trust in Dollinger, A panic struck the bravest hearts, "Sever the tow-line! Cripple the mules!" Too late! . There comes a shock ! * Another length, and the fated craft Would have swum in the saving lock! Then gathered together the shipwrecked crew And took one last embrace, While sorrowful tears from despairing eyes Ran down each hopeless face; And some did think of their little ones But of all the children of misery there But one spake words of hope and faith, (O brave heart strong and true!)- Lo! scarce the words have passed his lips A wonder crown his faith! And count ye all, both great and small, As numbered with the dead! For mariner for forty year, On Erie, boy and man, I never yet saw such a storm, So overboard a keg of nails And anvils three we threw, A violin, Lord Byron's works, A curve! a curve! the dangers grow! Haw the head mule !—the aft one gee! For straight a farmer brought a plank,- And laying it unto the ship, In silent awe retired. Then every sufferer stood amazed That pilot man before ; A moment stood. Then wondering turned, Dispatch iz taking time bi the ears. end ov the tail. Hurry iz taking it bi the The miser who heaps up gains tew gloat over iz like a hog in a pen fatted for a show. If you must chaw terbacker, young man, for Heaven's sake, chaw old plugg, it iz the nastyest. Without friends and without enemys iz the last reliable ackount we hav ov a stray dog. Men generally, when they whip a mule, sware; the mule remembers the swareing, but forgits the licking. Sum folks wonder whare awl the lies cum from, but i don't, one good liar will pizen a whole country. Hunting after fame iz like hunting after fleas, hard tew ketch, and sure tew make yu uneazy if yu dew or don't ketch them. Menny people spend their time trieing tew find the hole whare sin got into this world-if two men brake through the ice into a mill pond, they had better hunt for sum good hole tew git out, rather than git into a long argument about the hole they cum tew fall in. JOSH BILLINGS. Charles F. Adams. YAWCOB STRAUSS. I HAF Von funny leedle poy, Vot gomes schust to mine knee; Der queerest schap, der createst rogue, As efer you dit see. He runs, und schumps, und schmashes dings In all barts of der house; But vot off dot? he vas mine son, Mine leedle Yawcob Strauss. He get der measles und der mumbs, He fills mine pipe mit Limburg cheese,- He dakes der milk-ban for a dhrum, I dinks mine hed was schplit abart, He asks me questions, sooch as dese: Who vas it cuts dot schmoodth blace oudt Und vhere der plaze goes vrom der lamp How gan I all dose dings eggsblain I somedimes dink I schall go vild Und vish vonce more I gould haf rest, But ven he vash asleep in ped, I prays der Lord, “Dake anyding, A HIGHLY-COLOURED ROMANCE. BEN GREEN was a New-Hampshire boy, A jovial chap this same Ben Green, He loved a girl named Olive Brown, A pink of rare perfection she, The belle of all the town; Though Ben oft wished her Olive Green, And she loved Ben, and said that nought And, when she changed from Olive Brown, |