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That I can't get one word out of her let me teaze her as I may
Except “Please let me alone, Sir," and "I 'll do no work today.”
And as for the Consulta, it doesn't consult with me,
And if it did I doubt me much 'twere long ere we 'd agree.
And then as to his Holiness, I hope you don't suppose”
And here I looked as wise as I could and clapped my finger

on my nose “Dear Sir, has anything happened or do you anything know?” “Not I indeed, my good friend, or I'd have told you long ago; But this much I can tell you and I doubt not but it 's true, And remember what I say now 's strictly between me and you: This building here 's the Vatican, this city is called Rome And mum about his Holiness until we both get home.”

Walking from Worms to KREUZNACH in RHENISH Prussia, Oct. 27-28, 1854.

I WISH I were that little mouse
That no rent pays for his house,
That neither sows nor reaps nor tills,
Bút his plúmp, round belly fills
With cheesepárings or a slice,
Léft on my pláte, of bacon nice.
Soón as spread night's raven shades
And to béd are boys and maids
And silence the whole house pervades,
Moúsey póps nose, whiskers out,
Sníffs the air and looks about
The coást is clear; right joyfully
Out on the carpet canters he
To táke his pleasure all the night
And spórt about till morning light.
He has not on lazy groom to wait, ,
Coachman and équipage of state;

He has not to shave, brush, tie cravat, Look for gloves, cane, cards and hat, This countermánd and order that, But álways ready dressed and trim, And sleek and smooth, sound wind and limb, Springs out light-heárt upon the floor, Cápers from window to the door, From door to window, many a race Takes round the washboard and surbáse, Nibbles the crúst I 've purposely Dropped on the crumbcloth while at tea, Climbs up the wainscot, and a swing Ventures upon the béllpull ring; Or scales the leg of the escritoire, Squeezes into th' half open drawer, Among the papers plays about A minute or two, then scampers out, And past the inkstand as he goes With súch a curl turns up his nose As thorough - bred gentility shows And that your moúsey 's too well born Nót to hold literature in scorn. So happy moúsey sports away The lívelong night till dáwning day, And only then of slúmber thinks When through the window-shutter chinks Long streaks of light fall on the floor And milk - pail clink at the hall door Announces man's return to toil, Fresh care and sorrow, cark and coil, And that anón into the room Will búrst with sweeping-brush and broom Dówdy Lisetta, half awake, Her fússy morning round to take,

Dust táble, sófa, sideboard, chair;
Throw up the sash to let in air,
Pólish the irons, light the fire
Moúsey, it 's time you should retire
And leave your hápless neighbour, man,
To enjóy his daylight as he can
While you lie napping snug, till night
Invites you out to new delight
Ah! moúsey, if you'd change with me
How happy in your place I 'd be!

Walking from BRUCHSAL to HEIDELBERG, and at HEIDELBERG ; Octob. 17 and 24, 1854.

To the key of my strong box.

HREE things thou téstifiest, careful key:
First that there is on earth something material
Vile therefore and corrupt and perishable
Which yét my fine, imperishable soul
Prízes, esteéms and cares for; secondly
That I 'm the happy owner of such treasure;
And thirdly that I 've found a talisman
Wherewith to guard it from the covetous eye
And often thiévish, sometimes burglar, hands
of the innumerable hordes whose fine,
Ethérial, heáven - sprung, heáven-returning spirits
Pursue with áppetite keéner even than mine
And more unscrúpulous, the chase of Earth's

Despised, reviled, repúdiated ríches.
Walking from HEIDELBERG to FRANKENTHAL in the PALATINATE, Octob. 26, 1854.

As my dog and my cát
At the parlour fire sát

One cold night after teá,
Says my dóg to my cát:
“By this and by thát

You shall not purr at me.”

Says my cát, looking blué: “Sir, I don't purr at you,

And I mean you no hárm; 'Twere a pity that we Should just then least agree

When we 're most snug and warm.”

Says my dóg: “Mistress Minn,
I don't care one pín

For your warm or your cold;
But this much I knów:

you keep purring só
I 'll to towse you make bóld.”

Snarly Snáp growls attáck;
Minnie Minn humps her back

And jumps up on a chair;
'Twas not shé caused the strife,
But she 'll fight for her life

If to touch her he dáre.

She has foúr sets of cláws,
And sharp teeth in both jáws,

And two eyes glaring fire;
Snarly Snáp, if you 're wise
You'll not coúnt on your size

But ground árms and retire.

But the dog or the man
Point me out if you cán

That beforehand is wise
Snarly Snáp makes a bounce,
On his múzz gets a trounce

That makes bleéd nose and eyes.

Snarly Snáp turns his tail
And to mé comes with wail

And complaint against Minn:
“Nay, Snarly Snap, máy;
Those the píper must pay

Who the dancing begin.

“But you 've bóth trespassed so
That oút both must gó,

For I love to be just;"
So I called for the broom,
And oút of the room

Both belligerents thrúst.

BRUCHSAL in BADEN, Octob. 16, 1854.

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