Their father said he would, if they liked it, try the experiment, by repeating for them some sentences of droll nonsense, which were put together by Mr. Foote, a humorous writer, for the purpose of trying the memory of a man, who boasted that he could learn any thing by rote, on once hearing it.

"Oh! do let us hear it," cried Lucy;

"and try us.

"but

"Let us hear it," said Harry; I am sure I shall not be able to learn

it."

"It will be no great loss if you do not," said his father.

"Now, Lucy, pray sit still and listen," said Harry.

But Harry's power of attention, which he had prepared himself to exert to the utmost, was set completely at defiance, when his father, as fast as he could utter the words, repeated the following nonsense, abruptly beginning with ·

"So she went into the garden to cut a cabbage

leaf, to make an apple pie'; and at the same time a great she-bear coming up the street, pops its head into the shop. 'What! no soap?' So he died, and she very imprudently married the barber; and there were present the Picninnies, and the Joblillies, and the Garyulies, and the grand Panjandrum himself, with the little round button at top; and they all fell to playing the game of catch as catch can, till the gunpowder ran out at the heels of their boots."

"Gunpowder at the heels of their boots! horrible nonsense!" cried Harry; while Lucy, rolling with laughter, and laughing the more at Harry's indignation, only wished it was not dark, that she might see his face.

"Well, can either of you remember or repeat any of this?" said their mother.

Lucy said, that if it had not been for the grand Panjandrum, she was almost sure she should have been able to say it; but she was so much surprised by meeting the grand Panjandrum himself again, and so diverted by his little round button at top, that she could think of nothing else; be

sides, laughing hindered her from hearing the names of all the company who were present at the barber's marriage: but she perfectly well remembered the Picninnies; and she knew why she did, because their name was something like piccanini; and this word had been fixed in her head by a droll anecdote she had heard of a negro boy, who, when he was to tell his master that Mr. Gosling had called upon him one morning, and could not recollect his name, said he knew the gentleman was a Mr. Goose-piccanini."

"So you see, Lucy," said her father, "that even with you, who seem to be yourself one of the numerous family of the Piccaninies, or of the Goose-piccaninies, there is always some connection of ideas, or sounds, which helps to fix even nonsense in the memory.

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"Papa, will you be so very good as to repeat it once more. Now, Harry, once more let us try."

"I would rather learn a Greek verb,"

said Harry." There is some sense in that. Papa, could you repeat one?"

"I could, son, but I will not now," said his father; "let your sister divert herself with the grand Panjandrum, and do not be too grand yourself, Harry. It is sweet to talk nonsense in season. Always sense would make Jack a dull boy*."

The grand Panjandrum was repeated once more; and this time Harry did his best, and remembered what she went into the garden to cut, for an apple pie; and he mastered the great she-bear, and the no soap, but for want of knowing who died, he never got cleverly to the marriage with the barber. But Lucy, less troubled concerning the nominative case, went on merrily, "and she very imprudently married the barber." But just as Lucy was triumphantly naming the company present,

* Future commentators will observe, that this alludes to the ancient British adage,

"All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy,

All play and no work makes Jack a mere toy."

and had got to the Joblillies, Harry, whose attention was not so wholly absorbed, as to have no eyes for outward nature, exclaimed

"Father! father!-Look! look! out A fire! a fire! a terrible

of this window.

fire it must be.

red with it."

The whole sky yonder

"Terrible!" said Lucy, looking out. "It must be a town on fire."

"Father!" repeated Harry, much astonished by his father's silence, and composure, "do not you see it?"

"I do," said his father, "but it is not a town on fire. You will see what it is presently."

A dead silence ensued, and the grand Panjandrum was forgotten, as though he had never existed. They drove on, Harry stretching out of one window, and Lucy leaning out of the other, while her mother held her fast, lest the door should open.

"Harry, what do you see? I see fires,