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The Snuff-Boxes

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VILLAGE pedagogue announced one day
Unto his pupils, that Inspector A.

Was coming to examine them. Quoth he:

"If he should try you in Geography,

Most likely he will ask-'What's the Earth's shape?'
Then, if you feel as stupid as an ape,

Just look at me: my snuff-box I will show,
Which will remind you it is round, you know.”

Now, the sagacious master, I declare,

Had two snuff-boxes-one round, t'other square;
The square he carried through the week, the round
On Sundays only.

Hark! a footstep's sound:

'Tis the Inspector. "What's the Earth's shape, lad?" Addressing one by name. The latter, glad

To have his memory helped, looked at the master ;
When, piteous to relate, O, sad disaster!

The pupil without hesitation says:

"Round, sir, on Sundays, square on other days."

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WHERE

"In Greedy Land, Philander Sprat."

"What did you there to grow so fat?"

Anon.

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"Well, very, very good was that!"
"Not wholly good, Philander Sprat."
"Now, wherefore not, Lysander Pratt ?"

"A bear came raging from the wood, And tumbled down my cottage good."

"Alas! how very bad was that!"
"Not wholly bad, Philander Sprat."
"Not bad? Why not, Lysander Pratt ?"

"I killed the bear, and of his skin

I made a coat to wrap me in."

"Well done! Now surely good was that!" "Yet not so good, Philander Sprat."

"Now, why not good, Lysander Pratt?

"A wicked hound tore up my coat Until it was not worth a groat."

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"Ah, what an evil thing was that!
"Not wholly bad, Philander Sprat."

"What good was there, Lysander Pratt ?"

"He caught for me a great wild boar, That made me sausages good store."

"What luck! How very good was that!" "Good? Not all good, Philander Sprat." "Why not all good, Lysander Pratt ?"

"A cat stole in on velvet paw,
And ate them all with greedy maw."

"Now surely wholly bad was that!" "Not wholly bad, Philander Sprat." "Then tell me why, Lysander Pratt."

"Of Pussy's fur with silken hair, I made of gloves a noble pair."

"Trust you!

No wonder you are fat! You found your good account in that, As in all else, Lysander Pratt."

"Yes, in the closet hang they now, Yet they are full of holes, I vow,

Gnawed by some thievish long-tailed rat;

And so, you see, Philander Sprat,

Not wholly good was even that!"

Arlo Bates.

The Wreck of the Steamship "Puffin"

TELL you a story, children? Well, gather around my

knee,

And I'll see if I cannot thrill you (though you're torpid after your tea),

With a moving tale of a shipwreck; and—should you refrain from sleep,

For the cake was a trifle heavy-I flatter myself you'll weep!

You all know Kensington Gardens, and some of you, I'll be bound,

Have stood by the level margin of the Pond that's entitled "Round";

'Tis a pleasant spot on a summer day, when the air is laden with balm,

And the snowy sails are reflected clear in a mirror of flawless calm!

Well, it isn't like that in the winter, when the gardens are shut at four,

And a wind is lashing the water, and driving the ducks.

ashore.

Ah! the Pond can be black and cruel then, with its waves running inches high,

And a peril lurks for the tautest yacht that pocket-money can buy !

Yet, in weather like this, with a howling blast and a sky of ominous gloom,

Did the good ship Puffin put out to sea, as if trying to tempt her doom!

She was a model steamer, on the latest approved design, And her powerful 10-slug engines were driven by spirits of wine.

And a smarter crew (they were sixpence each!) never shipped on a model bark,

While her Captain, "Nuremberg Noah," had once commanded an ark;

Like a fine old salt of the olden school, he had stuck to his

wooden ship,

But lately, he'd been promoted-and this was his trial trip.

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Off went the Puffin when steam was up, with her crew and commander brave!

And her screw was whizzing behind her as she breasted the foaming wave;

Danger? each sixpenny seaman smiled at the notion of that! But the face of the skipper looked thoughtful from under his broad-brimmed hat.

Was he thinking of his children three-of Japheth, and Ham, and Shem?

Or his elephants (both with a trunk unglued!), was he sad at the thought of them?

Or the door at the end of his own old ark-did it give him a passing pain

To reflect that its unreal knocker might never deceive him

again?

Nay, children, I cannot answer-he had passed inquiry

beyond:

He was far away on the billowy waste of the wild and heaving Pond,

Battling hard with the angry crests of the waves, that were rolling in

And seeking to overwhelm and swamp his staggering vessel of tin!

Suddenly, speed she slackened, and seemed of her task to

tire . .

Aye! for the seas she had shipped of late had extinguished her engine fire!

And the park-keeper, watching her, shook his head and in manner unfeeling cried :

""Twill be nothing short of a miracle now if she makes the opposite side!"

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