The fool! would he try a flight further and say
He never saw, never before to-day,

What was able to take his breath away,

A face to lose youth for, to occupy age

With the dream of, meet death with,-why, I'll

not engage

But that, half in a rapture and half in a rage,

I should toss him the thing's self-" "Tis only a duplicate,

A thing of no value! Take it, I supplicate!"

66

MR. SLUDGE, "THE MEDIUM."

Now, don't sir! Don't expose me! Just this once!
This was the first and only time, I'll swear,-
Look at me,-see, I kneel,—the only time,
I swear, I ever cheated,-yes, by the soul
Of Her who hears—(your sainted mother, sir!)
All, except this last accident, was truth-
This little kind of slip !-and even this,
It was your own wine, sir, the good champagne,
(I took it for Catawba,-you 're so kind)
Which put the folly in my head!

"Get up?"

You still inflict on me that terrible face?

You show no mercy ?-Not for Her dear sake,

The sainted spirit's, whose soft breath even now Blows on my cheek—(don't you feel something, sir?) You'll tell?

Please, sir! your thumbs are through my windpipe,

sir! Ch-ch!

Well, sir, I hope you 've done it now!

Oh Lord! I little thought, sir, yesterday,

When your departed mother spoke those words
Of peace through me, and moved you, sir, so much,
You gave me (very kind it was of you)
These shirt-studs-(better take them back again,
Please, sir!)—yes, little did I think so soon

A trifle of trick, all through a glass too much

Of his own champagne, would change my best of

friends

Into an angry gentleman!

Though, 'twas wrong.

I don't contest the point; your anger 's just :