Old D.-Nay, ye mun wait a bit, mister. Bless my life, where hev I put it. Nay, I thout I hed it e my glove. It's here; nay, it isn't, that's me thimble. Oh deer me, I'm so pottered.

G. K.-Come, missis, we're all waiting for you. These women, these women, there's more bother with them than if you can't look sharp, look as sharp as you can.

sooner.

Old D.-If yo'd nobbut hod yer din I could find it a deal I'm sewer I gat one, 'cause ar James' wife's father were getting one at t'same time. Yo woddn't happen knaw ahr James' wife's father, wod you, mister? 'cause yo could ax him if he didn't see me get one.

G. K.-We shall require your fare-fourteen pence, please. Old D.-Nay, I shannot, I shannot, pay again; go on, it's all right. The idea; it's worse nor highway robbery; it's daan right steyling; you ought to be ashamed of yourself. I don't knaw ha yo can for shame to take it. But I'm sewer I gat one. Nay I didn't; yes I did; it's here; nay it isn't. Well, I'll be felled if it isn't here, croppen dahn into me umbrella. Nah did iver ony body see ought like that, it mud hey gotten in there a purpose to plague me.

G. K.-I say, Jack, did you see what that old woman turned out of her pocket when she was looking for her ticket? Very near a cart load of stuff; she'd two pocket handkerchiefs, and a thimble, three bobbins and a knife, a pair of spectacles, a lot of mint lozenges, and humbugs, and a gallas button, a happle, a nutmeg, a bit of ginger, three or four biscuits, a porken pie, a lash comb and a snuff box. Sport.-I say, porter, is that clock right?

Por. Yes, sir, for anything I know.

S.-Ahm, I'm a quarter of a minute behind. Porter, I think your clock is wrong.

Boy. Manchester Examiner, Manchester Guardian, &c. Por.-Leeds train in front. Bradford behind. Stand back there, please, stand back. Right guard?

G. K-Right. [Whistle.]

Various voices.-Good-bye. God bless you. Take care of yourself. Write soon. Remember me to uncle John, aunt Sarah, cousin Polly. We'll all come at Christmas. Good-bye.

A MOTHER'S DIARY.

Morning! Baby on the floor,
Making for the fender;
Sunlight seems to make it sneeze,
Baby "on a bender!"

All the spools upset and gone,
Chairs drawn into file,

Harnessed strings all strung across,
Ought to make one smile.

Apron clean, curls smooth, eyes blue,
(How these charms will dwindle!)
For I rather think-don't you-
Baby "is a swindle"?

Noon! A tangled, silken floss,
Getting in blue eyes;

Aprons that will not keep clean,
If a baby tries!

One blue shoe untied, and one
Underneath the table;

Chairs gone mad, and blocks and toys,

Well as they are able;

Baby in a high chair, too,

Yelling for his dinner,

Spoon in mouth; I think-don't you

Baby "is a sinner"?

Night! Chairs all set back again,

Blocks and spools in order;

One blue shoe beneath a mat,

Tells of a marauder;

Apron folded on the chair,

Plaid dress torn and wrinkled,

Two pink feet kicked partly bare,
Little fat knees crinkled;

In his crib, and conquered, too,
By sleep, best evangel.

Now I surely think-don't you—
Baby is an angel?

OLD HULDAH.-E. NORMAN GUNNISON.

A BALLAD OF MARBLEHEAD.

The fisherman stood all day by the beach-
Stood where the breakers thundered in,
And heard the sound of the sea-bird's screech,
And dash of waves on the rocks of Lynn.

*The storm is fierce," said the fisher old; "And the wind is wild," the fisher said; "The rocks are sharp, and the shore is bold, Where the p'int makes out from Marblehead, "And ev'ry ship that is now at sea,

Bound in to Lynn or to Marblehead, Must keep the light three p'ints on the lee, Or be wrecked." So the fisher said.

But not a pilot ventured out—

The storm was fierce and the wind was wild, And the daring pilot, swart and stout,

Still thought of home and his wife and child—

Thought of them both as the wind made moan, The wind made moan to the breaker's shock; For the world is hard to the left-alone

Harder than any New England rock.

So the fisher waited by the shore,

Hearing the waves and the breakers' din,
And just at dusk, 'midst the tempest's roar,
The good ship Etna came sailing in.

Staysails set and her courses furled,
Close-reefed topsail upon her main,
To and fro was the good ship hurled
Over the ocean's watery plain.

Plain no longer, for mountain waves
Broke the sea into furrows vast;
The white caps rose over countless graves
As the tempest thundered past.

Up spoke Huldah, the fisher's wife;
Brown old dame of the fishing-coast:
"Where's the pilot? Every life

Is saved if he keeps his post."

"There is no pilot at sea to-night,"

Said Abner Jackson, the skipper's son,

While over the water came the light

And booming crash of a signal-gun.

Heavens! They are fetching past the landPast the pint; they will strike the rock!”

Said Jotham Davis. Close at hand

Came a crash and a rending shock.

"Man the life-boat!" No man stirred. Over the din of wind and wave,

Over the tempest's strife was heard

"Save" but no human hand could save.

Clinging to the wave-washed deck,
Men and women in wild despair
Sent their pleading from off the wreck,
Shuddering on the startled air.

Then spoke Huldah, the fisher's wife:
"Does not a man to save them dare?
Will ye stand for a worthless life

While they cry in their wild despair?

"Shame on ye, men! A woman's hand
Shall do the deed ye dare not try!
Who'll go with me from off the land?"
"I will! and I! and I! and I!"

There they stood in the dying light,
Down by the boat with oars in hand,
Five brave women-a braver sight
Never before was seen on land.

Up spoke gruffly Old Fisher Ben,
Scarred old Triton of the sea:
"Man that boat! Such a sight, my men,
Never on earth was seen by me.

"All we can do at worst is die.

Better die," the old Triton said,
"Than to live as cowards 'neath the eye
Of the women of Marblehead."

Abner Jackson then stepped out,
Jotham Davis, and Skipper Ben,
Bijah Norcross and Ireson Stout-
That they felt was the place for men.

Out past the point, where mountain-high
Crested billows in foam were tost,
Sometimes plain on the stormy sky,
Sometimes hidden, and sometimes lost.

Round the point on the stormy wave
They reach the rock and gain the wreck;
Every life they seek to save

Safe is taken from off the deck.

And now strain hard, the goal is near,
Each hand presses a bending oar.

Shout, O fishermen! cheer on cheer-
Shout, for they have reached the shore.

That was many a year agone

Many a fisherman is dead

Who saw the ship come sailing on
The cruel rocks of Marblehead.

Many a man who saw her zail,

Foam on her prow and rocks a-lee,
With no breath of an earthly gale,

Sails the waves of a shoreless sea.
The fisher old with aching joint,

Tells how the ship came sailing in,
Wrecked on rocks beyond the point,
Left her bones by the coast of Lynn.
This is true; for one stormy day,
While I watched a passing sail,
The clouds hung over dim and gray,
A fisher told to me the tale.

Close to the point the rocks still lie,
And any fisher were better dead
Than a coward beneath the eve
Of the women of Marblehead.

RESISTING A MOTHER'S LOVE.

The folle wing affecting narrative purports to have been given by a father to his son, as warning derived from his own bitter experience of the sin of griev ing and resisting a mother's love and counsel.

What agony was visible on my mother's face when she saw at all she said and suffered failed to move me! She rose up to go home and I followed at a distance. She spoke no more to me till she reached her own door.

"Its school time now," said she. "Go my son, and once more et me beseech you to think on what I have said." "I shan't go to school," said I.

She looked astonished at my boldness, but replied firmly. "Certainly you will go, Alfred. I command you."

"I will not!" said I, in a tone of defiance.

"One of two things you must do, Alfred-either go to school this noment, or I will lock you in your room, and keep you there till you are ready to promise implicit obedience to my wishes in future."

"I dare you to do it," said I," you can't get me up stairs." "Alfred, choose now," said my mother, who laid her hand upon my arm. She trembled violently, and was deadly pale.

If you touch me I will kick you," said I, in a terrible rage. God knows I knew not what I said.