"But it would be 'time enough,' sure, to make the fence whin the ground was ready," said his neighbor, reverting to the first part of her conversation.

"And have all the neighbors' pigs right through it the next morning?" retorted the old man laughing; "no, no, that's not my way, Mrs. Radford."

"Fair and aisy goes far in a day, masther Aigle," said the gossip, lounging against the fence, and taking her pipe out of her pocket.

"Do you want a coal for you pipe, ma'am?" inquired Burnt Aigle.

"No, I thank ye kindly; its not out I see," she replied, stirring it up with a bit of stick previous to commencing the smoking with which she solaced her laziness.

"That's a bad plan," observed our friend, who continued his labor as diligently as if the sun was rising instead of setting.

"What is, Aigle dear?"

"Keeping the pipe a-light in yer pocket, ma'am; it might chance to burn ye, and its sure to waste the tobacco.

Augh!" exclaimed the wife, "what long heads some people have! God grant we may never want the bit o' tobacco

Sure

it would be hard if we did, we're bad off enough without that." "But if ye did, ye know, ma'am, ye'd be sorry ye wasted it; wouldn't ye?"

"Och, Aigle dear, the poverty is bad enough whin it comes, not to be looking out for it."

"If you expected an inimy to come and burn your house." ("Lord defend us !" ejaculated the woman), "what would you do?"

"Is it what would I do? bedad, that's a quare question. I'd prevint him to be sure."

"And that's what I want to do with the poverty," he answered, sticking his spade firmly into the earth; and, leaning on it with folded arms, he rested for a moment on his perfect limb, and looked earnestly in her face. "Ye see every one on the sod-green though it is, God bless it-is some how or other

born to some sort of poverty. Now, the thing is to go past it, or undermine it, or get rid of it, or prevent it."

"Ah, thin, how?" said Mrs. Radford.

"By forethought, prudence; ever to let a farthing's worth go to waste, or spend a penny if we can do with a half-penny. Time makes the most of us-we ought to make the most of him; so I'll go on with my work, ma'am if you please; I can work and talk at the same time."

Mrs. Radford looked a little affronted; but she thought better of it, and repeated her favorite maxim, "Fair and aisy goes far in a day."

"So it does ma'am; nothing like it; its wonderful what a dale can be got on with by it keeping on, on, and on, always at something. When I'm tired at the baskets, I take a turn at the tubs; and when I am wearied with them, I tie up the heath and sweet it is sure enough; it makes one envy the bees to smell the heather! And when I've had enough of that, I get on with the garden, or knock bits of furniture out of the timber the sea drifts up after those terrible storms." "We burn that," said Mrs. Radford.

"There's plenty of turf and furze to be had for the cutting; it's a sin, when there's so much furniture wanting, to burn any timber-barring chips," replied Eagle.

"Bedad, I don't know what ill luck sea-timber might bring," said the woman.

"Augh! augh! the worst luck that ever came into a house is idleness, except, may be extravagance."

"Well, thin, Aigle dear!' exclaimed Mrs. Radford, "what's come to ye to talk of extravagance? What in the world have poor crathurs like us to be extravagant with ?"

"Yer time" replied Burnt Eagle with particular emphasis, yer time'

“Ah, thin, man, sure it's time enough' for us to be thinking of that when we can get anything for it

" Make anything of it, ye mean, ma'am: the only work it will ever do of itself, if it's let alone, will be destruction."

THE THREATENED INVASION.-ANON.

WHAT! Will you invade us, then, beautiful France?
And will you come over to teach us to dance?
Has Louis declared so? has gentle Guizot?
Or is it the furor of Butcher Bugeaud?

Will he come on a steam bridge of fearful dimensions?
Or will he throw over a bridge of suspension?
Oh! do let us know if he means to throw over
A bridge of suspension from Calais to Dover!

Will his troops land at Deal—all alive, not a man ill;
Or will his steam navy sweep all down the channel?
Will their hopes never waver, their hearts never bend,
Till they land, irresisted, at gallant Gravesend?
The Marshal's a bright one as ever was sunn'd on;
Pray, mayn't we consider him almost in London ?
Won't he coop us alive in our dungeons and towers,
And give us a roasting for forty-eight hours!

Do say, when he once lands his troops from the main,
Will he come by the road-will he travel by train;
And did he send forward an order from Calais,
To get him clean quarters in Buckingham Palace
Our army are traitors-our navy is done—
And they both have agreed to be beaten like fun;
Not a man-of-war's seen on the waves now to dance,
But has made up its mind to be taken to France.

We've got no militia—and pray ye, or urge ye
Ye won't get a bit of fight out of the clergy;
While the whole of the lawyers have packed up their rags,
And are hiding their heads in their very blue bags!
Then, as for the people--Bugeaud you may come !
They are poltroon, pacific, low-spirited, dumb;
So my blood-thirsty Marshal you'll have no occasion,
To take too much pains with your British invasion!

A RILL FROM THE TOWN PUMP.-HAWTHORNE.

NOON, by the north clock! noon by the east! High noon, too, by these hot sunbeams, which fall, scarcely aslope, upon my head, and almost make the water bubble and smoke, in the trough under my nose. Truly, we public characters have a tough time of it! And, among all the town officers, chosen at March meetings, where is he that sustains, for a single year, the burden of such manifold duties as are imposed, in perpetuity, upon the Town Pump? The title of "town treasurer" is rightfully mine, as guardian of the best treasure that the town has. The overseers of the poor ought to make me their chairman, since I provide bountifully for the pauper, without expense to him that pays taxes. I am at the head of the fire department, and one of the physicians to the board of health. As a keeper of the peace, all water-drinkers will confess me equal to the constable. I perform some of the duties of the town clerk, by promulgating public notices, when they are posted on my front. To speak within bounds, I am the chief person of the municipality, and exhibit moreover, an admirable pattern to my brother officers, by the cool, steady, upright, downright and impartial discharge of my business, and the constancy with which I stand to my post. Summer or winter, nobody seeks me in vain ; for, all day long, I am seen at the busiest corner, just above the market, stretching out my arms to rich and poor alike; and at night I hold a lantern over my head, both to show where I am, and keep people out of the gutters.

At this sultry noontide, I am cupbearer to the parched. populace, for whose benefit an iron goblet is chained to my waist. Like a dramseller on the mall, at muster-day, I cry aloud to all and sundry, in my plainest accents, and at the very tip top of my voice. Here it is, gentlemen! Here is the good liquor! Walk up, walk up, gentlemen, walk up, walk up! Here is the superior stuff! Here is the unadulterated ale of father Adam-better than Cognac, Hollands, Jamaica, strong beer, or wine of any price; here it is by the

hogshead or the single glass, and not a cent to pay! Walk up, gentlemen, walk up, and help yourselves!

It were a pity, if all this outery should draw no customers. Here they come. A hot day, gentlemen! Quaff, and away again, so as to keep yourselves in a nice cool sweat. You, my friend, will need another cup, to wash the dust out of your throat, if it be as thick there as it is in your cow-hide shoes. I see that you have trudged half a score of miles to-day; and, like a wise man, have passed by the taverns, and stopped at the running brooks and well-curbs. Otherwise, betwixt heat without and fire within, you would have been burnt to a cinder, or melted down to nothing at all, in the fashion of a jelly-fish. Drink, and make room for that other fellow, who seeks my aid to quench the fiery fever of last night's potations, which he drained from no cup of mine. Welcome, most rubicund sir! You and I have been great strangers, hitherto, nor, to confess the truth, will my nose be anxious for a closer intimacy, till the fumes of your breath be a little less potent. Mercy on you, man! The water absolutely hisses down your red-hot gullet, and is converted quite to steam, in the miniature tophet, which you mistake for a stomach. Fill again, and tell me, on the word of an honest toper, did you ever, in cellar, tavern, or any kind of a dram-shop, spend the price of your children's food, for a swig half so delicious? Now, for the first time these ten years, you know the flavor of cold water. Good-bye; and whenever you are thirsty, remember that I keep a constant supply, at the old stand. Who next? Oh, my little friend, you are let loose from school, and come hither to scrub your blooming face, and drown the memory of certain taps of the ferule, and other school-boy troubles, in a draught from the Town Pump. Take it, pure as the current of your young life. Take it, and may your heart and tongue never be scorched with a fiercer thirst than now! There, my dear child, put down the cup, and yield your place to this elderly gentleman, who treads so tenderly over the pavingstones, that I suspect he is afraid of breaking them. What! he limps by, without so much as thanking me, as if my