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A clownish Yorkshire farmer-one
Who, by his uncouth look and gait,
Appear'd expressly meant by Fate
For being quizz'd and play'd upon :
So having tipp'd the wink to those
In the back rows,

Who kept their laughter bottled down
Until our wag should draw the cork,
He smiled jocosely on the clown,

And went to work...

"Well, Farmer Numscull, how go calves at York?”

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'Why-not, Sir, as they do wi' you,

But on four legs instead of two."

"Officer !" cried the legal elf,
Piqued at the laugh against himself,
"Do pray keep silence down below there.
Now look at me, clown, and attend,
Have I not seen you somewhere, friend?”,
Yees-very like I often go there."

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"Our rustic's waggish quite laconic,"
The counsel cried with grin sardonic;—
"I wish I'd known this prodigy-
This genius of the clods, when I

On circuit was at York residing.-
Now, Farmer, do for once speak true,
Mind, you're on oath, so tell me, you
Who doubtless think yourself so clever,
Are there as many fools as ever

In the West Riding?"

“ Why no, Sir, no; we've got our share, But not so many as when you were there."

The Collegian and the Porter.

AT Trin. Coll. Cam.-which means, in proper spelling,
Trinity College, Cambridge, there resided
One Harry Dashington-a youth excelling
In all the learning commonly provided
For those who choose that classic station
For finishing their education:-
That is he understood computing

The odds at any race or match;
Was a dead hand at pigeon-shooting;

Could kick up rows-knock down the watch-
Play truant and the rake at random-
Drink-tie cravats and drive a tandem.

Remonstrance, fine, and rustication,
So far from working reformation,

Seem'd but to make his lapses greater,
Till he was warn'd that next offence
Would have this certain consequence-
Expulsion from his Alma Mater.

One need not be a necromancer
To guess that, with so wild a wight,
The next offence occurr'd next night,
When our Incurable came rolling

Home as the midnight chimes were tolling,
And rang the College bell.-No answer.-

The second peal was vain-the third

Made the street echo its alarum; When to his great delight he heard The sordid Janitor, old Ben, Rousing and growling in his den.

"Who's there?-I s'pose young Harum-scarum."

""Tis I, my worthy Ben-'tis Harry."

"Ay, so I thought and there you'll tarry.

"'Tis past the hour-the gates are closed,
You know my orders-I shall lose
My place if I undo the door.”—
"And I" (young Hopeful interposed)
"Shall be expell'd if you refuse,
So prythee"- -Ben began to snore.-

"I'm wet," cried Harry, "to the skin ;
Hip! hallo! Ben!-don't be a ninny;
Beneath the gate I've thrust a guinea,
So tumble out and let me in.”

Humph!" growl'd the greedy old curmudgeon, Half overjoy'd and half in dudgeon, "Now you may pass; but make no fuss, On tiptoe walk, and hold your prate." "Look on the stones, old Cerberus,"

Cried Harry as he pass'd the gate, "I've dropp'd a shilling-take the light, You'll find it just outside---good night."

Behold the porter in his shirt,

Cursing the rain which never stopp'd,

Groping and raking in the dirt,

And all without success; but that

Is hardly to be wonder'd at,

Because no shilling had been dropp'd;

So he gave o'er the search at last,
Regain'd the door, and found it fast

With sundry oaths, and growls, and groans,

He rang once-twice and thrice; and then,
Mingled with giggling heard the tones
Of Harry mimicking old Ben.

"Who's there?-'Tis really a disgrace
To ring so loud-I've lock'd the gate-
I know my duty-'Tis too late-
You wouldn't have me lose my place ?"-

"Psha! Mr. Dashington: remember, This is the middle of November,

I'm stripp'd ;---'tis raining cats and dogs.” "Hush, hush!" quoth Hal; "I'm fast asleep ;" And then he snored as loud and deep

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As a whole company of hogs:

But, harkye, Ben, I'll grant admittance
At the same rate I paid myself."

"Nay, master, leave me half the pittance,"
Replied the avaricious elf.

"No: all, or none-a full acquittance: The terms, I know, are somewhat high; you have fix'd the price, not I—

But

I won't take less ;-I can't afford it."
So, finding all his haggling vain,
Ben, with an oath and groan of pain,

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Drew out the guinea, and restored it.

Surely you

'il give me,” growl'd th' outwitted Porter, when again admitted,

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Something, now you've done your joking, For all this trouble, time, and soaking."

"Oh, surely-surely," Harry said;

"Since, as you urge, I broke your rest, And you're half drown'd, and quite undress'd, leave to go to bed."

I'll give you

ROUSSEAU'S HERMITAGE.

-O qui me gelidis in vallibus Hæmi

Sistat, et ingenti ramorum protegat umbrâ!

O WHAT picturesque, what romantic associations did I connect with this spot! A hermitage in the midst of woods is abstractedly scenic and piquant to the fancy; but when I recollected the glowing and pastoral beauties with which this morbid enthusiast had invested it in his Confessions-when I called to mind that he had here composed some of his most touching effusions, and had attributed their fervour to the inspiration of these sylvan and sequestered haunts, my imagination was disposed to run riot in the luxuriance of its rural shadowings. I had determined, however, that the Hermitage itself was a kind of Swiss cottage, somewhat like those in the gardens of the little Trianon, the trellis-work of whose latticed windows was nearly hidden by clusters of roses, jessamin, and honeysuckle; while acacias, mountain-ash, laburnum, and other flowering trees, gracefully threw their varicoloured foliage over the roof, contrasting finely with the gigantic boughs and impenetrable shade of the forest in which the whole was embowered. Alas! this inauspicious day was but a tissue of disappointments. After toiling up the hill of Montmorency, I looked around me, and if its valley be in reality what it is generally stated to be,-one of the most picturesque and romantic spots in France,-I can only say, So much the worse for France. I agree with the

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