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De pootiest Fraeulein in de House,
She vayed 'pout dwo hoondred pound,
Und efery dime she gife a shoomp
She make de vindows sound.

Hans Breitmann gife a barty,
I dells you it cost him dear.
Dey rolled in more ash sefen kecks
Of foost-rate Lager Beer.

Und venefer dey knocks de shpicket in
De Deutschers gifes a cheer.
I dinks dat so vine a barty,

Nefer coom to a het dis year.

Hans Breitmann gife a barty,
Dere all vas Souse und Brouse,
Ven de sooper comed in, de gompany
Did make demselfs to house;
Dey ate das Brot and Gensy broost,
De Bratwurst and Braten fine,
Und vash der Abendessen down
Mit four parrels of Neckarwein.

Hans Breitmann gife a barty,

We all cot troonk ash bigs.

I poot mine mout to a parrel of bier
Und emptied it oop mit a schwigs.
Und denn I gissed Madilda Yane
Und she shlog me on de kop,
Und de gompany fited mit daple-lecks
Dill de coonshtable made oos shtop.

Hans Breitmann gife a barty—

Where ish dat barty now!

Where ish de lofely golden cloud

Dat float on de moundain's prow? Where ish de himmelstrahlende SternDe shtar of the shpirit's light?

All goned afay mit de Lager Beer-
Afay in de ewigkeit!

THE CHANGED.

A FRAGMENT.

From "Hood's Magazine."

-AGAIN I beheld her-two years of dissipation, of madness, had passed, and once more I saw her whom I had so basely deserted.

It was at the Opera-she sat in a box near me; and though the paleness of her cheek gave her an almost unearthly appearance, I saw that she was lovely as

ever.

All eyes were upon her-all but mine: for one glance had called up so many painful recollections, that I dared not risk a second. The past with its exquisite delights rose vividly before me, as I gazed on her whose happiness I had wrecked. I felt myself a guilty wretch.

"Poor Emily!" I murmured, as tears of bitter remorse filled my eyes. I was interrupted by H―, who, touching my elbow, whispered,—

"Look in that box on the right. Is it not extraordinary to see a young girl with such white hair?”

I turned impatiently from him: but so many remarks of the same kind were whispered by those near me, that the words seemed to hiss in my ears; the stage appeared filled with fiery serpents, chasing and entwining each other, and the hilarity of the audience at the humour of Lablache sounded like the laughter of mocking fiends.

At length the first act was at an end. The curtain dropped.

"I'll bet a dozen of champagne," said one of my neighbours, "that she has been frightened. Fear has been known to turn the hair grey in a single night."

"You are mistaken," said another. "No sudden shock could have changed it so completely. I am a surgeon, and know something about these things: it is

more likely the result of some secret sorrow, some mining grief."

"Perhaps she is a widow," said a third; "and has fretted for the loss of her husband? So mourned the dame of Ephesus her love.'"

If the look with which I regarded the last speaker could have killed him, there would have been one puppy the less in the world.

"Your conjecture does not seem to be a very probable one," said the surgeon; "she looks too young for a widow. I should say she was not more than seventeen or eighteen."

"Just eighteen!" exclaimed I, involuntarily.

"Do you know the young lady, sir ?" he asked, turning to me. I was silent, and he continued. "If the study of physiognomy is to be depended on, an unrequited passion is the cause of the calamity."

At these words I could no longer restrain my feelings. "Be silent, for Heaven's sake!" I exclaimed, grasping his hand convulsively. "I am the greatest villain on the face of the earth !"

He looked at me in astonishment; but just then the curtain again rose, and the clang of music drowned all other sounds. While everybody's attention was drawn to the performance, I took courage to look once more at Emily. How beautiful she was, as she sat with her melancholy gaze fixed on the stage. So young, and already grief had decked her brow with the silvery badge of age! Could it be? Was it Emily, once the adored of my soul, the queen of my youthful fancy? Was it she whom I saw? Her golden hair changed to white by grief for my inconstancy!

The play was over-mechanically I rose to go. As I reached the door, one of my friends hurried to meet me. "How long have you been returned?" said he. "Did you know that Emily was in town? I saw her just now. Good heavens! how it has changed her!"

"It has, indeed!" said I, with a groan, "dreadfully, awfully changed her!"

"Of course, you know the cause?"

"Too well! too well! I am the cause!"

"You! What! Did you persuade her to do it?" "To do what?"

"Why, don't you know that fancying her hair had a red tinge, she was persuaded to use the new Victoria dye, which has turned it white!"

A GIANT'S DISCOMFORTS.

From "Fun."

OH! RHUSKIBUSKHIBINGO

He was a giant great―
Outlandish was his lingo,

His height was furlongs eight.

His boots were seven league, you
Will guess-and more besides;
It really would fatigue you

To measure out his strides.

He ate per day-his stomach
From growing pangs to keep-
A score of beeves, with some ac-
Cidental pigs and sheep.

Each day a club he'd pick him-
An oak tree strong and sappy;
And nobody could lick him-
And still he wasn't happy.

And yet you'd think a giant,

Whom none to cross would dare

Of everything defiant

Would sure be free from care!

But hapless RHUSKIBUSKHI

Was nothing of the kind,

His voice with grief was husky,
His eyes with tears were blind.

And you will all allow, sirs,

He had no cause for smiles: Of course his coats and trousers He wanted made by MILES.

But MILES he did gainsay him—
And sure a losing job

It had been, to array him

In "bags at sixteen bob."

And since they were unwilling
To build this giant's bags
For sixteen times one shilling―
He had to go in rags.

Next to supply his table

With roasts and bakes and pies,

He found himself unable,
Though he did advertise

For a

"Plain Cook;" for none were Prepared to store his maw; So since his meals undone were, He had to eat them raw.

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Don't think they're pleasant-is 'em?

The giant thought so too!

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