"I do." "Will not one of these keys open that trunk?" The witness was silent. "Never mind! we shall try. As ready as if it had been made for it!" resumed the advocate, applying the key and lifting the lid. "There may be fifty keys in the court that would do the same thing," interposed the public prosecutor. "True," rejoined his brother; "but this is not one of them," added he, holding up the other key," for she tried this key first and broke, as you see, the ward in the attempt." "How will you prove that?" inquired the prosecutor. 'By producing the separate part." "Where did you find it?" "In the lock!" emphatically exclaimed the advocate. She was A groan was heard; the witness had fainted. instantly removed, and the innocence of Therese was as clear as the noonday. MY WIFE AND I. We never fight, my wife and I, Our little matrimonial sky Is of the brightest blue. Some wives are never pleased unless My little witch ne'er asks from me The value of a pin She is so good and true, you see, But then-she keeps the tin! ""Twas not!" "It was!" "It was!" ""Twas not!" Thus ever scold and fight Full many a luckless pair, I wot, From morning until night. The words are mild and very few, LADY CLARA VERE DE VERE.-ALFRED TENNYSON. Lady Clara Vere de Vere, Of me you shall not win renown: You thought to break a country heart Lady Clara Vere de Vere, I know you proud to bear your name, Too proud to care from whence I came. Is worth a hundred coats-of-arms. Some meeker pupil you must find, I could not stoop to such a mind. Lady Clara Vere de Vere, You put strange memories in my head. Lady Clara Vere de Vere, When thus he met his mother's view, She spake some certain truths of you. Indeed, I heard one bitter word That scarce is fit for you to hear; Her manners had not that repose Which stamps the caste of Vere de Vere. Lady Clara Vere de Vere, There stands a spectre in your hall: The guilt of blood is at your door: You changed a wholesome heart to gall. You held your course without remorse, And slew him with your noble birth. Trust me, Clara Vere de Vere, From yon blue heavens above us bent, "Tis only noble to be good. I know you, Clara Vere de Vere: You pine among your halls and towers: Is wearied of the rolling hours. In glowing health, with boundless wealth, You know so ill to deal with time, You needs must play such pranks as these. Clara, Clara Vere de Vere, If time be heavy on your hands, THE SAILOR-BOY'S DREAM.-WM. DIMOND. In slumbers of midnight the sailor-boy lay, He dreamed of his home, of his dear native bowers, Then fancy her magical pinions spread wide, The jessamine clambers in flowers o'er the thatch, A father bends o'er him with looks of delight; With the lips of the maid whom his bosom holds dear. And the death-angel flaps his broad wings o'er the wave. O sailor-boy, woe to thy dream of delight! In darkness dissolves the gay frost-work of bliss. Where now is the picture that fancy touched bright,Thy parents' fond pressure, and love's honeyed kiss? O sailor-boy! sailor-boy! never again Shall home, love, or kindred thy wishes repay; No tomb shall e'er plead to remembrance for thee, On a bed of green sea-flowers thy limbs shall be laid,— Davs, months, years, and ages, shall circle away, WHOM WILT THOU LIVE FOR? Live for thyself! let each successive morn Till all be thrown aside that does not please; Whose glittering waves all wholesome thirst destroy, And, heart-sick, even in youth, begin to count Springs without hope, and summers blank of joy. Live for thy fellow-men! let all thy soul Be given to serve and aid, to cheer and love; Make sacrifice of self, and still control All meaner motives which the heart might move; Live for thy Gon! Thine anchor shall be cast Than the quick withering of earth's common flowers, For well thou know'st, when pain and death are o'er, Eternal spring shall glad the heavenly bowers. MR. PERKINS AT THE DENTIST'S.-JAS. M. BAILEY. I think I must have caught cold by injudiciously sleeping on the floor during the period the house was being rinsed out. I had so much room that I must have become careless in the night, and got to trifling with the draft from a door. As I am a little bald the effect was disastrous. Through the day I felt a little stiff about the shoulders, with a sensation between the eyes as if I had been trying to inhale some putty. I observed to Maria (Mrs. Perkins's name is Maria), that I had caught a bad cold, and would probably regret it in time. But she treated the matter lightly by remarking that I had "caught my granny." As that estimable lady has been dead thirteen years, the reference to my catching her, with such a start in her favor, was of course a joke. Not a joke to be |