"No!-not Frenchman, not Roman!-born in Egypta!" "Born in Egypta. Never heard of Egypta before. Foreign locality, likely. Mummy,-mummy. How calm he is, how self-possessed! Isah-is he dead?" "Oh, sacre bleu ! been dead three thousan' year!" The doctor turned on him savagely : 'Here, now, what do you mean by such conduct as this? Playing us for Chinamen because we are strangers and trying to learn! Trying to impose your vile, second-hand carcasses on us! Thunder and lightning! I've a mind to-to-if you've got a nice fresh corpse, fetch him out!—or, by George, we'll brain you!" We make it exceedingly interesting for this Frenchman. However, he has paid us back, partly, without knowing it. He came to the hotel this morning to ask if we were up, and he endeavored, as well as he could to describe us, so that the landlord would know which persons he meant. He finished with the casual remark that we were lunatics. The observation was so innocent and so honest that it amounted to a very good thing for a guide to say. Our Roman Ferguson is the most patient, unsuspecting, long-suffering, subject we have had yet. We shall be sorry to part with him. We have enjoyed his society very much. We trust he has enjoyed ours, but we are harassed with doubts. Thy image. Earth, that nourished thee, And to the sluggish clod, which the rude The planets, all the infinite host of heaven, The globe are but a handful to the tribes Turns with his share, and treads upon. The Of morning, traverse Barca's desert sands, N Broad Street buildings (on a winter night), Snug by his parlor fire, a gouty wight He noted all the sales of hops, Gum, galls, and groceries; ginger, gin, Tar, tallow, turmeric, turpentine, and tin; “Your footman, sir, has gone his nightly track To the King's Head, And left your door ajar, which I And thought it neighborly to give you notice." "Ten thousand thanks!" the gouty man replied; "You see, good sir, how to my chair I'm tied "Ten thousand thanks how very few do get In time of danger, Such kind attention from a stranger! "Indeed," replied the stranger (looking "Then he's a double knave: He knows that rogues and thieves by scores Nightly beset unguarded doors; And see, how easily might one Of these domestic foes, And-walk off-thus So said, so done; he made no more remark Nor waited for replies, But marched off with his prize, Leaving the gouty merchant in the dark. THE PAUPER'S DEATH-BED. MRS. C. B. SOUTHEY. READ softly, bow the head; In reverent silence bow; No passing bell doth toll, Yet an immortal soul Is passing now. Stranger! however great, With lowly reverence bow; There's one in that poor shed, One by that paltry bed, Greater than thou. Beneath that beggar's roof, Lo! Death doth keep his state; Enter-no crowds attend; Enter-no guards defend This palace gate. That pavement, damp and cold, No smiling courtiers tread; |