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But all this is scarce worth mentioning in comparison of what

I 've seen it bear At the hands of that same natural friend, ally, and protector, Who twenty times a day or, if the humor happened so to take him, A húndred times a day would in one of the dark cellars under it

That you

'd say

Explode all on a sudden so strong a détonating powder

there never yet was iron tower or vaulted

granite casemate That wouldn't have tumbled down incontinent at the very first

concussion, And yet that wondrous piece of flesh and bone seemed but

to take delight in it.

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But, sétting aside these wholly minor and secondary consi

derations, What would you say of an architect who had constrúcted a face With a pair of eyes staring, one on the right side and the

other on the left side of it, And yet had made no manner of provision at all for the

support of a pair of spectacles ?

So avaunt with your idle criticisms, your good-for-nothing

stuff and twaddle, Such as one dozes over a-nights in the Quarterly just before

one goes to bed, And let me have a pinch out of your canister, for I know

it 's the genuine Lundy More care - easing even than Nepenthe, than Ambrosia more

odoriferous.

DALKEY LODGE, DALKEY (İRELAND), Dec. 16, 1854.

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“Bravo! bravo! thát 's a good job,”
Said God when his eýe the light caught;
"Now I think I 'll try and make me
Á convénient place to live in.”

Só upon the next day Gód rose
At the dáwn of light, and heáven made,
Ảnd from that day forward néver
Wanted á snug box to live in.

“Wéll! a little work is pleásant,”
Said God, “ánd besides it 's úseful;
Whát a pity í 've so long sat
Dúmping, múmping, doing nothing!”

Só upon the third day Gód made
This round báll of land and water
Ánd with right thumb and forefinger
Sét it like teetốtum spinning;

Spinning twirling like teetótum,
Round and round about, the ball went,
While God clápped his hánds, delighted,
Ảnd called th’ ángels to look at it.

Whó made th’ ángels? if you ask me,
Í replý:

that's more than I know; Fór if God had, I don't doubt bút: ; Hé 'd have put them in his catalogue.

Bút no matter some one made them, Ảnd they came about him flócking, Wóndering at the sudden fit of : , Mánufácturing that had táken him:

“It 's a pretty ball," they all said; , “Dó pray tell us whát 's the úse of it; Won't you make a great many of them? Wé would like to see them trúndling."

“Wait until tomorrow," said God, “And I think I 'll show you something; This is quite enough for one day, And you knów I'm bút beginning.”

Só about noon on the fourth day,
Gód called thụ ángels áll aboút him,
And showed them the great big báll.he'd
Máde to give light to the little one.

:

“Whát!” said th’ ángels, "such a big ball
Júst to give light to a little one!
Thát 's bad mánagement and you know too
You had plenty of light without it.”

“Not quite plénty,” said God snáppish, ; “Fór the light I made the first day, Álthough good, was rather scánty, Scárce enough for me to work by.

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“And besides how wás it possible
If I had not made the big ball :
To have given the little one seasons,
Days and years and nights and mornings? -

“So you see there was nothing for it
Bút to fix the little ball steady,
Ånd about it sét the big one
Tópsy-turvying as you here see."

“It's the big ball we see steady,
Ánd the little one roúnd it whirling,"
Said the ángels, bý: the great light:
Dázzled, and their eyebrows shading:

“Nóne of your impertinence," said God
Growing more vexed every moment;
“I know thát as well as yoú do,
But I don't choose yoú should say it.

“I have sét the big ball steady
And the little one spinning round it,
Bút I 've told you júst the opposite
Ảnd the opposite you must sweár to.”

Ánything you say we 'll sweår to,"
Said the angels húmbly bówing;
“Háve you anything more to show us ?
Wé 're so fond of exhibitions."

“Yes," said Gód, “what was deficient
Ín the lighting of the little ball,
With this pretty moon I 've made up
Ánd these little twinkling stárs here."

“Wásn't the big ball big enough ?” said
With simplicity the ángels: -
“Couldn't, without a miracle," said God,
“Shine at once on back and front side.”

“There you 're quite right," said the ángels, “And we think you show your wisdom •In not squandering miracles on those Whó believe your word without them.

Bút do tell us why you 've só far
From your little ball put your little stars;
One would think they didn't belong to it,
Scárce one in a thousand shines on it.”

“To be súre I could have placed them
Só much nearer,” said God smiling,
“That the little ball would have been as
Well lit with some millions féwer;

Bút I 'd like to know of whát use
Tó th' omnipotent such economy
Can't I make a million million stars
Quíte as easily as one star?”

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