since sufficient evidence was not to seek, that his verses, as 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 farther 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, So'st no one wouldn't be about Joe didn't want to go a mite; He felt ez though 'twarnt skeercely right, 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 An' nary thing to pop at found, Till, fairly tired o' their spree, They leaned their guns agin a tree, To take their noonin', Joe looked roun' That warn't more'n twenty rod beyond,) Ez ef awaitin' to be shot. Isrel he ups and grabs his gun; Sez he, "By ginger, here's some fun!" "Don't fire," sez Joe, it aint no use, Thet's Deacon Peleg's tame wild-goose;" Sez Isrel, "I don't care a cent, I've sighted an' I'll let her went; Bang! went queen's-arm, ole gander flopped His wings a spell, an' quorked, an' dropped. Sez Joe, "I wouldn't ha' been hired "I won't agree to no such bender," I'd eat what makes me hole my nose!" So they disputed to an' fro Till cunnin' Isrel sez to Joe "Don't less stay here an' play the fool, Less wait till both on us git cool, Jest for a day or two less hide it An' then toss up an' so decide it." Now 'twuz the hottest kind o' weather, Fer all the mischief hed ben done: The goose wuz there, but, fer his soul, Joe wouldn't ha' tetched it with a pole; 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 vain-glory, 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 Whatever thing he had to do He did, and made it pay him, too; He sold his waste stone by the pound, His wood brought profit when 'twas cold, Strove to make profit square with right, 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, |