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fountain murmurs and the rills sing; and high upon the mountain tops, where the naked granite glitters like gold in the sun, where the storm-cloud broods and the thunderstorms crash; and far out on the wide, wild sea, where the hurricane howls music, and the big waves roll the chorus, sweeping the march of Godthere He brews it, that beverage of life-health-giving water.

“ And everywhere it is a thing of life and beautygleaming in the dew-drop; singing in the summer rain ; shining in the ice-gem, till the trees all seem turned to living jewels; spreading a golden veil over the setting sun, or a white gauze around the midnight moon; sporting in the glacier; folding its bright snow-curtain softly about the wintery world; and weaving the many-colored bow, that seraph's zone of the siren-whose warp is the raindrop of the earth, whose woof is the sunbeam of heaven, all checked over with celestial flowers, by the mystic hand of refraction.

“Still always it is beautiful—that blessed life-water ! No poisonous bubbles are on its brink; its foam brings not madness and murder; no blood stains its liquid glass; pale widows and starving orphans weep not burning tears in its depths; no drunkard's shrinking ghost, from the grave, curses it in the worlds of eternal despair! Speak out, my friends: would you exchange it for the demon's drink, ALCOHOL ?" A shout, like the roar of a tempest, answered, 66 No!"

JOHN B. GOUGH.

JIMMY BUTLER AND THE OWL.

[An impersonation. “Who! Whoo! Whooo !” should be given with high pitch, descending slides, and tremulous stress on “Whooo!”]

'Twas in the summer of '46 that I landed at Hamilton, fresh as a new pratie just dug from the “ould sod," and wid a light heart and a heavy bundle I sot off for the township of Buford, tiding a taste of a song, as merry a young fellow as iver took the road. Well, I trudged on

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and on, past many a plisint place, pleasin' myself wid the thought that some day I might have a place of my own, wid a world of chickens and ducks and pigs and childer about the door ; and along in the afternoon of the sicond day I got to Buford village. A cousin of me mother's, one Dennis O'Dowd, lived about sivin miles from there, and I wanted to make his place that night, so I inquired the way at the tavern, and was lucky to find a man who was goin' part of the way an' would show me the way to find Dennis. Sure he was very kind indade, an’ when I got out of his wagon he pointed me through the wood and tould me to go straight south a mile an'a half, and the first house would be Dennis's. “An' you've no time to lose now,” said he, "for the

low, and mind you don't get lost in the woods.” “Is it lost now,” said I, “ that I'd be gittin, an' me uncle as great a navigator as iver steered a ship across the thrackless say! Not a bit of it, though I'm obleeged to ye for

your kind advice, and thank yiz for the ride.” An' wid that he drove off an' left me alone. I shouldered me bundle bravely, an' whistlin' a bit of tune for company like, I pushed into the bush. Well, I went a long way over bogs, and turnin' round among the bush an' trees till I began to think I must be well nigh to Dennis's. But, bad cess to it! all of a sudden I came out of the woods at the very identical spot where I started in, which I knew by an ould crotched tree that seemed to be standin' on its head and kickinjup its heels to make divarsion of me. By this time it was growin' dark, and as there was no time to lose, I started in a second time, determined to keep straight south this time, and no mistake. I got on bravely for a while, but och hone! och hone! it got so dark I couldn't see the trees, and I bumped me nose and barked me shins, while the miskaties bit me hands and face to a blister ; an' after tumblin' and stumblin’around till I was fairly bamfoozled, I sat down on a log all of a trimble, to think that I was lost intirely, an' that maybe a lion or some other wild craythur would devour me before morning

Just then I heard somebody a long way off say, "Whip poor Will! Whip poor Will !” “Bedad," sez I, “I'm glad it isn't Jamie that's got to take it, though it's more

in sorrow than in anger they are doin' it, or why should they say, 'poor Will?' an' sure they can't be Injin, haythin, or naygur, for it's plain English they're afther spakin'. Maybe they might help me out o' this," so I shouted at the top of my voice, A lost man!” Thin I listened. Prisently an answer came.

" Who? Whoo ? Whooo ?

“ Jamie Butler, the waiver ! sez I, as loud as I could roar, an' snatchin' up me bundle an' stick, I started in the direction of the voice. Whin I thought I had got near the place I stopped and shouted again, “A lost man!"

“Who! Whoo! Whooo!” said a voice right over

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my head.

sez he.

“ Sure," thinks I, “it's a mighty quare place for a man to be at this time of night; maybe it's some settler scrapin' sugar off a sugar-bush for the children's breakfast in the mornin'. But where's Will and the rest of them?" All this wint through me head like a flash, an' thin I answered his inquiry.

"Jamie Butler, the waiver," sez I; “ and if it wouldn't inconvanience yer honor, would yez be kind enough to step down and show me the way to the house of Dennis O'Dowd?"

" Who! Whoo! Whooo!"

“ Dennis O'Dowd,” sez I, civil enough, "and a dacent man he is, and first cousin to me own mother.'

“ Who! Whoo! Whooo !” sez he again.

“ Me mother! sez I, “and as fine a woman as iver peeled a biled pratie wid her thumb nail, and her maiden name was Molly McFiggin."

" Who! Whoo! Whooo !

“Paddy McFiggin! bad luck to yer deaf ould head, Paddy McFiggin, I say—do you hear that? An' he was the tallest man in all the county Tipperary, excipt Jim Doyle, the blacksmith."

6. Who! Whoo! Whooo!”

“Jim Doyle, the blacksmith," sez I, “ye good for nothin' blaggurd naygur, and if yiz don't come down and show me the way this min’t, I'll climb up there and break every bone in your skin, ye spalpeen, so sure as me name is Jimmy Butler !

6 Who! Whoo! Whooo !” sez he, as impident as iver.

I said never a word, but lavin' down me bundle, and takin' me stick in me teeth, I began to climb the tree. Whin I got among the branches I looked quietly around till I saw a pair of big eyes just forninst me.

" Whist," sez I, “and I'll let him have a taste of an Irish stick," and wid that I let drive and lost me balance an' came tumblin' to the ground, nearly breakin' me neck wid the fall. When I came to me sinsis I had a very sore head wid a lump on it like a goose egg, and half of me Sunday coat-tail torn off intirely. I spoke to the chap in the tree, but could git niver an answer, at all, at all.

Sure, thinks I, he must have gone home to rowl up his head, for by the powers I didn't throw me stick for nothin'.

Well, by this time the moon was up and I could see a little, and I detarmined to make one more effort to reach Dennis's.

I wint on cautiously for awhile, an' thin I heard a bell.

Sure," sez I, “I'm comin' to a settlement now, for I hear the church bell.” I kept on toward the sound till I came to an ould cow wid a bell on. She started to run, but I was too quick for her, and got her by the tail and hung on, thinkin' that maybe she would take me out of the woods. On we wint, like an ould country steeple-chase, till, sure enough, we came out to a clearin' and a house in sight wid a light in it. So, lavin' the ould cow puffin' and blowin' in a shed, I went to the house, and as luck would have it, whose should it be but Dennis's.

He gave me a raal Irish welcome, and introduced me to his two daughters—as purty a pair of gurls as iver ye clapped an eye on. But whin I tould him me adventure in the woods, and about the fellow who made fun of me, they all laughed and roared, and Dennis said it was an owl. 66 An ould what ?" sez I.

Why, an owl, a burd,” sez he. “Do you tell me now?'' sez I. “ Sure it's a quare country and a quare burd."

And thin they all laughed again, till at last I laughed myself, that hearty like, and dropped right into a chair between the two purty girls, and the ould chap winked at me and roared again.

Dennis is me father-in-law now, and he often yet delights to tell our children about their daddy's adventure wid the owl.

ALONZO THE BRAVE, AND THE FAIR

IMOGINE.

(Aspirate and Pectoral qualities of voice are here employed.]

A warrior so bold, and a virgin so bright,

Conversed as they sat on the green;
They gazed on each other with tender delight:
Alonzo the Brave was the name of the knight,

The maiden's, the Fair Imogine.

“ And oh !” said the youth, “ since to-morrow I go

To fight in a far distant land,
Your tears for my absence soon ceasing to flow,
Some other will court you, and you will bestow

On a wealthier suitor your hand !"

“Oh! hush these suspicions,” Fair Imogine said,

“ Offensive to love and to me;
For, if you be living, or if you be dead,
I swear by the Virgin that none in your stead

Shall husband of Imogine be.

“ If e'er I, by love or by wealth led aside,

Forget my Alonzo the Brave,
God grant that, to punish my falsehood and pride,
Your ghost at the marriage may sit by my side,
May tax me with perjury, claim me as bride,

And bear me away to the grave !"

To Palestine hastened the hero so bold,

His love she lamented him sore;
But scarce had a twelvemonth elapsed, when, behold!
A baron, all covered with jewels and gold,

Arrived at Fair Imogine's door.

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