NEW "OLD MOTHER HUBBARD." "Old Mother Hubbard, she went to the cupboard, But when she got there, the cupboard was bare, The aged and venerable maternal representative of a family which descended from an ancestral progenitor known in his time by the patronymic appellation of Hubbard (perhaps from his having been one of the early poets or bards of the hub), wended her way to the small apartment ordinarily devoted to the storage of crockery, and such portions of the family provisions as were left unused at the prandil meal. To obtain for the gratification of her favorite but emaciated specimen of the genus canis, a fragment of an osseous nature once composing an integral portion of the skeleton of an animal (whether bovine, porcine, or otherwise, the narrator was not able to determine satisfactorily), from which she had reason to believe her petted quadruped would aliment. When by continuous progressive motion she had arrived at the end of her brief journey and in fact had reached the objective point, and the goal of her desire, her fond anticipations were not realized, and her calculations came to naught; for the family receptacle, before alluded to, proved to be entirely denuded of everything in the way of that sustenance which tends to prolong life when received within and assimilated by the animal organism. Casequently this indignant and long suffering member of the high class of vertebrata called mammals, but familiarly known as the "poor dog," failed on this occasion to obtain anything to appease his unsated and voracious ap petite which we have reason to believe, had previously been whetted by the anticipation of the favorable result of the visit of his friend and protector to the usual storehouse of his supplies. THE HEBREW MOTHER.-MRS. HEMANS. The rose was rich in bloom on Sharon's plain, Unto the temple service;- by the hand She led him, and her silent soul, the while, Met her sweet serious glance, rejoiced to think And softly parting clusters of jet curls To bathe his brow. At las: the Fane was reached, Turned from the white-robed priest, and round her arm Of weeping and sad song.-" Alas," she cried, Alas! my boy, thy gentle grasp is on me, The bright tears quiver in thy pleading eyes, And now fond thoughts arise, And silver chords again to earth have won me; "How the lone paths retrace where thou wert playing So late, along the mountains, at my side? And I in joyous pride, By every place of flowers my course delaying, "And oh! the home whence thy bright smile hath parted, Will it not seem as if the sunny day Turned from its door away; While through its chambers wandering, weary-hearted, “Under the palm-trees thou no more shalt meet me, When from the fount at evening I return, With the full water-urn; Nor will thy sleep's low dove-like breathings greet me, “And thou, will slumber's dewy cloud fall round thee, Thine arms, when darkness as a veil hath wound thee, To fold my neck, and lift up, in thy fear, A cry which none shall hear? 66 What have I said, my child?--Will He not hear thee, And in the hush of holy midnight near thee, "I give thee to thy God-the God that gave thee, And precious as thou art, And pure as dew of Hermon, He shall have thee, And thou shalt be his child. "Therefore, farewell!-I go,-my soul may fail me, But thou, my first-born, droop not, nor bewail me; DIVERSITIES OF JUDGMENT.-POPE. 'Tis with our judgments as our watches,-none Both must alike from heaven derive their light,→ DAVY THE TEAMSTER.-ESTELLE THOMSON. Honest Davy, the teamster, lives down by the mill, In a cottage thatched over with straw; You would say, if you looked on its queer, battered walls, 'Twas the drollest home ever you saw. But more strange than all else, is that Davy ne'er seems To suspect he's not envied by all, For he talks to his friends of "my wife" and "my home," It is true that the Judge, on the top of the hill, And the people all listen, and look with an awe Who sweeps her rich robes once a week into church, Her hands are as white and as soft as the lace That falls in such dainty-like frills O'er the bosom that covers her own selfish thoughts, With a ladylike grace she moves ever through life, But the heart in her breast never shines through her eyes- You would laugh to see Margery, Davy's young wife; She has never a garment that's fine; And she does up her hair in a queer little knot, Because she cannot find the time For braidings and puffings and crimpings, like those And Margery's hands are not spotless and white, Then she tucks up her gown at the dawning of morn, And goes merrily off with her pail, While the song that she sings in the green meadow lane Wakes the echoes in mountain and dale. Ah! Margy is useful; we know that full well,— But the Judge's wife says, for her life, She could never imagine what charm there could be In such a plain girl for a wife. "Oho-ho!" laughs out Davy, when nearing his home, While her voice takes a tender, caressing-like tone, Then her own sun browned hands help unfasten the bars, And they dust Davy's coat, and draw out his rude chair, Ah, the wife of the Judge! She is pacing to-night And she pauses anon, as the clock on the stairs But he comes not to cheer the lone vigil she keeps, We know but too well where his revels are spent ;- And many a one, through the dread "social glass," Then may ours be the hearts that find ever sweet peace, Still content, like friend Davy, to work if there's need, SELLING A COAT. A story is told of a clothing merchant on Chatham Street, New York, who kept a very open store, and drove a thriv ing trade, the natural consequence being that he waxed wealthy and indolent. He finally concluded to get an assistant to take his place on the sidewalk to "run in" customers. while he himself would enjoy his otium cum dig within the store. Having advertised for a suitable clerk, he awaited applications, determined to engage none but a good talker who would be sure to promote his interest. Several unsuccessful applicants were dismissed, when a smart looking Americanized Jew came along and applied for the situation. The "boss" was determined not to engage the fellow without proof of his thorough capability and sharpness. Hence the following dialogue: "Look here, young man! I told you somedings. I vill gone up de street und valk me back past dis shop yust like I vas coundrymans, and if you can make me buy a coat of you, I vill hire you right away quick." |