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aching heart; it is ill jesting when our deepest sympathies are awak. ened. My client's hopes and prospects are ruined, and it is no figure of speech to say that her occupation is gone indeed. The bill is down -but there is no tenant. Eligible single gentlemen pass and repass -but there is no invitation for them to inquire within or without. All is gloom and silence in the house, even the voice of the child is hushed; his infant sports are disregarded when his mother weeps; his “alley-tory” and his “commoneys" are alike neglected; he forgets the long familiar cry of "knuckle down" and at tip-cheese or odd and evenhis hand is out. But Pickwick, Gentlemen, Pickwick, the ruthless destroyer of this domestic oasis in the desert of Goswell street-Pickwick, who has choked up the well and thrown ashes on the sward-Pickwick, who comes before you to-day with his heartless Tomato sauce and warming pans-Pickwick still rears his head with unblushing effrontery, and gazes, without a sigh, on the ruin he has made. Damages, Gentlemen-heavy damages is the only penalty with which you can visit him; the only recompense you can award to my client. And for these damages she now appeals to an enlightened, a high-minded, a right feeling, a conscientious, a dispassionate, a sympathizing, a contemplative jury of her civilized countrymen.
With this beautiful peroration Mr. Serjeant Buzfuz sat down and Mr. Justice Stareleigh woke up!
[This piece may be recited with good effect, by a little girl, the clas ropeating
the last four lines of each verse.)
Playing in the sun,
Till the cooking's done.
Jenny rolls the crust,
Katy ouys the flour
All of golden dust.
What a dainty size !
Nice mud pies!
High up in the air?
Are you busy there ?"
Bounces down the rail,
Curls his bushy tail.
(Looking wondrous wise),
Rich mud pies !
And soon we'll take a peep.
Think we need it som
Such a heap of dough!
How the morning fies;
Hot mud pies !
DER SHOEMAKER'S BOY. .
(A Parody on “Mistletoe Bough.") Der meat-chopper hanged on der vitevashed wall, For no gustomers comed to der putcher's stall; Der shoemaker's poy comed there to blay, Cause der putcher poys all had a holiday.
On der door of der cellar mit dem to shlide, -
Oh ! der shoemaker's poy,
Der day goed away und der night comed on,
Oh! der shoemaker's poy,
Dey seeked him all night and dey seeked him next day,
Ohl der shoemaker's poy,
At length der meat-chopping mashine vas in need,
Oh! der shoemaker's poy,
A TRAGIO STORY.
Because it hung behind him !
He mused upon this curious case,
Not dangling there behind him.
Says he, “ The mystery I've found;
But still it hung behind him!
Then round and round, and out and in,
The pigtail hung behind him!
And right and left, and roundabout,
Hung steadily behind him!
And though his efforts never slack,
The pigtail hangs behind him.
MOSQUITOES. True mosquitoes are small at the waist, delicate in their organization, round-shouldered, and inclined to consumption. Their disposition is flighty. Some people think mosquitoes are a humbug; but they are not. There is nothing so real as inosquitoes. You can see 'em. When you can't see 'em, you can hear 'em. When you don't hear 'em, you can feel 'em. And when you neither see, hear, nor feel
em, you may know they've been around, because they've made their mark.
We all love mosquitoes so well that we offer them our hand, and are always wanting to squeeze them; and although they like us, being shy, they reject our proposals at first, and then take us when we are least prepared for them.
Mosquitoes are well educated. In music they use the Italian school of singing, -thrills, shakes, quavers, flying notes, and words not understood. It is decidedly sensation music, and, like all sensation music generally, it is thrilling in its effect; but one soon tires of it. Lying in bed, you hear the distant song of the mosquito: a feeling of dread comes over you, succeeded, as the song sounds come nearer, by a thrilling of the nerves, and, when close to your ears, the excitement becomes such as to cause your blood to boil, and your hands to strike forcibly your own head and.ears. If such is the effect of a single mosquito's song on a single individual, wliat a perfect furore of excitement might be created by a singing band of mosquitoes over a Boston Music Hall audience! Operatic impressarios are welcome to this hint. Everybody knows that mosquitoes draw well.
Mosquitoes are philosophers. They understand gravitation. If a hand or other weighty substance should fall, they know there's danger, and get out of the way. And they understand suction so well, that they put a steam fire engine to the blush.
Mosquitoes are educated in the allopathic school of medicine : they believe in bleeding. They differ from men in applying the theory: they first present their bill, and then bleed you. They don't understand human nature enough to know that no man likes to have a bill presented before the work is done. Mosquitoes also know how to develop humor-a bad humor: they will pity a man so much in one night, that his face will look very humorous next morning. As mathematicians, mosquitoes understand subtraction, and also multiply very fast.
As base ballists mosquitoes are a success. They always come in "on a fly," and rarely go out on one. As "pitchers," they always pitch in, never mind who their opponents are. As "catchers," they