We found it at last, and a little shed Where they shut up the lambs at night. We looked in, and seen them huddled thar, So warm and sleepy and white;

And thar sot Little Breeches and chirped,

As peart as ever you see,

"I want a chaw of terbacker,

And that's what's the matter of me."

How did he git thar? Angels.

He could never have walked in that storm. They jest scooped down and toted him

To whar it was safe and warm.
And I think that saving a little child,
And bringing him to his own,
Is a derned sight better business
Than loafing around The Throne.

JOHN HAY.

66

GOD

Early Rising.

bless the man who first invented sleep!" So Sancho Panza said, and so say I: And bless him, also, that he didn't keep

His great discovery to himself; nor try To make it as the lucky fellow might — A close monopoly by patent-right!

Yes — bless the man who first invented sleep, (I really can't avoid the iteration;)

But blast the man, with curses loud and deep,

Whate'er the rascal's name, or age, or station, Who first invented, and went round advising, That artificial cut-off - Early Rising!

"Rise with the lark, and with the lark to bed,"
Observes some solemn, sentimental owl;
Maxims like these are very cheaply said;
But, ere you make yourself a fool or fowl,
Pray just inquire about his rise and fall,
And whether larks have any beds at all!

The time for honest folks to be a-bed
Is in the morning, if I reason right;

And he who cannot keep his precious head
Upon his pillow till it's fairly light,
And so enjoy his forty morning winks,
Is up to knavery; or else he drinks!

Thompson, who sung about the "Seasons," said It was a glorious thing to rise in season;

But then he said it — lying — in his bed,

At ten o'clock A. M.,

He wrote so charmingly.

the very reason

The simple fact is

His preaching wasn't sanctioned by his practice.

'Tis, doubtless, well to be sometimes awake, – Awake to duty, and awake to truth,

But when, alas! a nice review we take

Of our best deeds and days, we find, in sooth, The hours that leave the slightest cause to weep Are those we passed in childhood or asleep!

'Tis beautiful to leave the world awhile
For the soft visions of the gentle night;
And free, at last, from mortal care or guile,
To live as only in the angels' sight,

In sleep's sweet realm so cosily shut in,
Where, at the worst, we only dream of sin!

So let us sleep, and give the Maker praise.
I like the lad who, when his father thought
To clip his morning nap by hackneyed phrase
Of vagrant worm by early songster caught,
Cried, "Served him right! — it's not at all sur-
prising;

The worm was punished, sir, for early rising!' JOHN GODFREY SAXE.

The Meeting of the Claßberhuses.

HE

I.

E was the Chairman of the Guild
Of Early Pleiocene Patriarchs;
He was chief Mentor of the Lodge
Of the Oracular Oligarchs.
He was the Lord High Autocrat
And Vizier of the Sons of Light,
And Sultan and Grand Mandarin
Of the Millennial Men of Might.

He was Grand Totem and High Priest
Of the Independent Potentates;
Grand Mogul of the Galaxy

Of the Illustrious Stay-out-lates;
The President of the Dandydudes,
The Treasurer of the Sons of Glee;
The Leader of the Clubtown Band
And Architects of Melody.

II.

She was Grand Worthy Prophetess
Of the Illustrious Maids of Mark;