THE TROUBLESOME WIFE.-ANON. A MAN had once a vicious wife— (A most uncommon thing in life ;) His days and nights were spent in strife unceasing, Her tongue went glibly all day long, and ill-done. A truce without doors, or within, He every soothing art displayed; Tried of what stuff her hide was made. Once walking by a river's side, In mournful terms, "My dear," he cried, "No more let feuds our peace divide: I'll end them. Weary of life, and quite resigned, To drown, I have made up my mind, So tie my hands as fast behind, as can be; Or nature may assert her reign, My arms assist, my will restrain, And swimming, I once more regain my troubles." With eager haste the dame complies, While joy stands glistening in her eyes: Already, in her thoughts, he dies before her. "Yet, when I view the rolling tide, It would be better far, I think, You push me in-nay, never shrink, but do it." To give the blow the more effect, Some twenty yards she ran direct, And did what she could least expect she should do. He slips aside, himself to save, So souse she dashes in the wave, And gave, what ne'er she gave before, much pleasure. "Dear husband, help! I sink!" she cried; "Thou best of wives," the man replied, "I would, but you my hands have tied: heaven help you." LODGINGS FOR SINGLE GENTLEMEN.-COLMAN. Who has e'er been in London, that overgrown place, Will Waddle, whose temper was studious and lonely, He entered his rooms, and to bed he retreated; Next night 't was the same!—and the next! and the next! His weakly condition was past all expression: In six months his acquaintance began much to doubt him; For his skin "like a lady's loose gown," hung about him. He sent for a doctor, and cried, like a ninny, "I've lost many pounds-make me well-there's a guinea.” The doctor looked wise:-" a slow fever," he said; "Sudorifics in bed," exclaimed Will, "are humbugs! Will kicked out the doctor:-but when ill indeed, Look ye, landlord, I think," argued Will with a grin, Quoth the landlord,-" Till now, I ne'er had a dispute, In airing your sheets, sir, my wife is no sloven; "The oven!!!"-says Will;-says the host, "Why this pas sion ? In that excellent bed died three people of fashion. Why so crusty, good sir ?"-" Odds!" cried Will in a taking "Who would not be crusty, with half a year's baking?" "Will paid for his rooms ;"-cried the host with a sneer, "Well, I see you 've been going away half a year.” "Friend, we can't well agree;-yet no quarrel," Will said: "But I'd rather not perish, while you make your bread." THE RICH MAN AND THE POOR MAN.-KHEMNITZER. So goes the world; if wealthy, you may call Though you are worthless-witless-never mind it; You may have been a stable-boy-what then? 'Tis wealth, good sir, makes honorable men. You seek respect, no doubt, and you will find it. But if you're poor, heaven help you! though your sire Had royal blood within him, and though you Possess the intellect of angels too "T is all in vain;-the world will ne'er inquire On such a score:-Why should it take the pains? 'Tis easier to weigh purses, sure, than brains. I once saw a poor fellow, keen and clever, Witty and wise-he paid a man a visit, And no one noticed him, and no one ever Gave him a welcome. 66 Strange," cried I, "whence is it !" He walked on this side, then on that, Said by their silence" Better stay at home." As Croesus rich, I'm sure He could not pride himself upon his wit; What a confusion !—all stand up erect- "Allow me sir, the honor;"-Then a bow And to himself he said, This is indeed beyond my comprehension:" Then looking round, One friendly face he found, And said "Pray tell me why is wealth preferred A man may lend his store Of gold or silver ore, But wisdom none can borrow, none can lend ?" THE MAN OF TWO SHADOWS.-STAHL. A KNOT of watchmen might have been seen, about eleven o'clock last night, consulting under the veranda of a house at the corner of Canal and Rampart streets. Occasionally one of them pointed his rattle down Canal street, towards the slowlyretreating figure of a man, who, certainly, was conducting himself in a very singular manner. "Is he a burglar, d'ye think, Bill ?" whispered one of the watchmen. Bill shook his head, as much as to say, till I knows more, John." "Can't tell you "Look-look-look!" muttered a third policeman. The retreating figure was violently leaping forward, and to one side, thrusting his cane right and left, stamping, and uttering deep-throated imprecations and threats of death! The guardians of the city rushed incontinently to the spot where the figure-Statius Humbrar, by name, who had imbibed strong drink over freely, was rehearsing a solo of quarterstaff. "Come, stop this here, will you?" demanded one of the municipal guards. "Sh! Sh! Don't you see there are two of them? There, that long-bodied, dark-browned fellow, on the pavement, and that crooked-shanked scoundrel shrinking against the wall! But, I'll do for them-I'll fix 'em! Have at you villains! Lay on, McDoodle, and blamed be he who first says Nuff! Sessa!-Sessa!" and Statius plied his cane more vigorously than ever. |