6. All day that fisherman would sit
Upon an ancient log,

And gaze into the water, like
Some sedentary frog.

7. A cunning fisherman was he;
His angles all were right;

And when he scratched his aged poll,
You'd know he'd got a bite.

8. To charm the fish he never spoke,
Although his voice was fine;
He found the most convenient way,
Was just to "drop a line."

9. And many a "gudgeon" of the pond, If made to speak to-day,

Would own with grief, this angler had
A mighty "taking way."

10. One day, while fishing on the log,
He mourned his want of luck,—
When, suddenly, he felt a bite,
And jerking-caught a duck!

11. Alas! that day, the fisherman
Had taken too much grog;
And being but a landsman, too,
He couldn't "keep the log."

12. In vain he strove with all his might,
And tried to gain the shore;

Down, down he went to feed the fish

He'd baited oft before!

14. And he who will not "sign the pledge,"
And keep his promise fast,

May be, in spite of fate, a stark
Cold-water man, at last!

LESSON XIX.

TOBY TOSSPOT.

COLMAN.

1. ALAS! what pity 'tis that regularity,
Like Isaac Shove's is such a rarity,
But there are swilling wights in London town

Termed jolly dogs, choice spirits, alias swine,
Who pour in midnight revel, bumpers down,
Making their throats a thoroughfare for wine.
These spendthrifts, who life s pleasures thus run on,
Dozing with headaches till the afternoon,
Lose half men's regular estate of sun,

By borrowing too largely of the moon.

2. One of this kidney-Toby Tosspot hight-
Was coming from the Bedford late at night,
And being Bacchi plenus,-full of wine,
Although he had a tolerable notion,
Of aiming at progressive motion,
Twasn't direct-'twas serpentine.

3. He worked with sinuosities, along,

Like Monsieur Corkscrew, worming through a cork,
Not straight like Corkscrew's proxy, stiff Don Prong—a fork.

4. At length, with near four bottles in his pate,

He saw the moon shining on Shove's brass plate,

When reading, "Please to ring the bell,"
And being civil beyond measure,

"Ring it!" says Toby-"Very well;
I'll ring it with a deal of pleasure.”
Toby, the kindest soul in all the town,
Gave it a jerk that almost jerked it down.

5. He waited two full minutes-no one came;
He waited full two minutes more, and then,
Says Toby, "If he's deaf, I'm not to blame;
I'll pull it for the gentleman again."

6. But the first peal woke Isaac in a fright,

Who, quick as lightning, popping up his head,
Sat on his head's antipodes, in bed,

Pale as a parsnip,-bolt upright.

7. At length he wisely to himself doth say, calming his fears, "Tush! 'tis some fool has rung and run away;'

When peal the second rattled in his ears!

8. Shove jumped into the middle of the floor;

And, trembling at each breath of air that stirred,
He groped down stairs, and opened the street door,
While Toby was performing peal the third.

9. Isaac eyed Toby, fearfully askant,—

And saw he was a strapper stout and tall,

Then put this question:-"Pray, sir, what d'ye want?"
Says Toby, "I want nothing sir, at all!"

10. "Want nothing!—sir, you've pulled my bell, I vow,
As if you'd jerk it off the wire.”

Quoth Toby,-gravely making him a bow,—
"I pulled it, sir, at your desire."

11. “At nine! ”—"Yes, yours; I hope I've done it well; High time for bed, sir; I was hastening to it;

But if you write up

- Please to ring the bell,'

Common politeness makes me stop and do it."

LESSON XX.

PAY THE PRINTER.

DOW, JR.

TEXT.-"If ye are honest, honorable men, go ye and pay the printer."

1. MY DEAR FRIENDS:-The debt that sits heaviest on the conscience of a mortal, provided he has one, is the debt due the printer. It presses harder on one's bosom than the nightmare, galls the soul, frets and chafes every ennobling sentiment, squeezes all the juice of fraternal sympathy from the heart, and leaves it drier than the surface of a roasted potato. A man who wrongs the printer out of a single red cent, can never expect to enjoy the comforts of this world, and may well have doubts of finding happiness in any other.

2. Oh, you ungrateful sinners! If you have hearts moistened with the dew of mercy, instead of gizzards filled with gravel, take heed what I say unto you. If there be one among you in this congregation who has not settled his account with the printer, go and adjust it immediately, and be able to hold up your heads in society like a giraffe; be respected by the wise and good-free from the tortures of a guilty conscience, the mortification of repeated duns, and escape from falling into the clutches of lawyers, which is about one and the same thing. If you are honest and honorable men, you will go forthwith and pay the printer.

3. You will not wait for to-morrow, because there is no tomorrow; it is but a visionary receptacle for unredeemed prom

ises—an addled egg in the great nest of the future; the devi or's hope, the creditor's curse. If you are dishonest, lowminded sons of Satan, I don't suppose you will pay the printer, as you have no reputation to lose, no character to sustain, no morals to cultivate. But, let me tell you, my friends, that if you don't do it; your path to the tomb will be strewn with thorns, you will have to gather your daily food from brambles; your children will die of dysentery, and yourselves will never enjoy the blessings of health.

4. I once called upon a sick person whom the doctor had given up as a gone case. I asked him if he had made his peace with his Maker? He said he thought he had squared up. I inquired if he had forgiven all his enemies. He replied yes. I then asked him if he had paid his printer. He hesitated a moment and then said, he believed he owed him about two dollars and fifty cents, which he desired to have paid before he bid good-bye to the world. His desires were immediately gratified, and from that moment he became convalescent. He is now living in the enjoyment of health and prosperity, at peace with his conscience, his God, and the whole world. Let him be an example for you, my friends. Patronize the printer, take his paper and pay for it in advance, and your days will be long upon the earth and overflowing with the honey of happiness.

LESSON XXI.

LECTURE ON MATRIMONY.

FANNY FERN.

1. Now, girls, said Aunt Hetty, put down your embroidery and worsted work, do something sensible, and stop building air castles, and talking of lovers and honeymoons; it makes me sick, it's perfectly antimonial. Love is a farce--matrimon