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So high at last the contest rose,

When luckily came by a third-
To him the question they referred;
And begged he'd tell them, if he
knew,

Whether the thing was green, or blue ?

"Sirs," cried the umpire, your pother,

The

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creature's neither one
t'other;

I caught the animal last night,
And viewed it o'er by candle-light;
I marked it well- 'twas black as jet;
You stare! but, sirs, I've got it yet,
And can produce it." Pray, sir,
do;

I'll lay my life the thing is blue."

"And I'll engage that, when you've

seen

The reptile, you'll pronounce him green."

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"Well, then, at once, to ease the doubt,"

Replies the man, "I'll turn him out; And, when before your eyes I've set

him,

If you don't find him black, I'll eat him."

He said; then full before their sight Produced the beast, and lo- 'twas white!

Both stared; the man looks wondrous wise!

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My children," the chameleon cries (Then first the creature found a tongue),

"You all are right, and all are

wrong;

When next you talk of what you view,

Think others see as well as you;

From words they almost came to Nor wonder if you find that none

blows;

Prefers your eyesight to his own."

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Took to his nightcap on the way.
But now, how different is the story
With our new galloping sons of glory,
Who, scorning all such slack and
slow time,

Dash to posterity in no time!

Raise but one general blast of puff
To start your author- that's enough:
In vain the critics sit to watch him
Try at the starting-post to catch him;
He's off-the puffers carry it hol-
low-

The critics, if they please, may fol-
low;

Ere they've laid down their first positions,

In vain doth Edinburgh dispense
Her blue-and-yellow pestilence
(That plague so awful in my time
To young and touchy sons of rhyme);
The Quarterly, at three months'
date,

catch the Unread One comes too
late;

And nonsense, littered in a hurry,
Becomes immortal" spite of Mur-

ray.

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[From The Fudge Family in Paris]. EXTRACTS FROM MISS BIDDY'S LETTERS.

WHAT a time since I wrote! - I'm a sad naughty girl

Though, like a tee-totum, I'm all in a twirl,

Yet

even (as you wittily say) a tee

totum

Between all its twirls gives a letter to note 'em.

But,

Lord, such a place! and then,
Dolly, my dresses,

66

My gowns, so divine!- there's no
language expresses,
Except just the two words su-
perbe," "magnifique,”
The trimmings of that which I had

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One's hair and one's cutlets both en papillote,

And a thousand more things I shall ne'er have by rote,

I can scarce tell the difference, at least as to phrase, Between beef à la Psyche and curls à la braise,

But, in short, dear, I'm tricked out quite à la française, With my bonnet-so beautiful!-high up and poking,

Like things that are put to keep chimneys from smoking.

Where shall I begin with the endless delights

Of this Eden of milliners, monkeys, and sights

This dear busy place, where there's nothing transacting,

But dressing and dinnering, dancing and acting?

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I scarce understood What he wished me to do, I said, thank him, I would.

Off we set and, though 'faith, dear,
I hardly knew whether
My head or my heels were the up-
permost then,

Last night, at the Beaujon, a place For 'twas like heaven and earth,

where I doubt

If I well can describe-there are

cars, that set out

Dolly, coming together,—

Yet, spite of the danger, we dared it again.

From a lighted pavilion, high up in And oh! as I gazed on the features

the air,

And rattle you down, Doll

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(The great heiress, you know, of Shandangan, who's here, Showing off with such airs and a real Cashmere,

While mine's but a paltry old rabbitskin, dear!)

But says Pa, after deeply considering the thing,

"I am just as well pleased it should not be the king;

As I think for my Biddy so gentille and jolie,

Whose charms may their price in an honest way fetch, That a Brandenburg (what is a Brandenburg, Dolly ?)— Would be, after all, no such very great catch.

WILLIAM PITT PALMER.

THE SMACK IN SCHOOL.

A DISTRICT School, not far away, Mid Berkshire's hills, one winter's day,

Was humming with its wonted noise Of threescore mingled girls and boys; Some few upon their tasks intent, But more on furtive mischief bent. The while the master's downward look

Was fastened on a copy-book; When suddenly, behind his back, Rose sharp and clear a rousing smack! As 't were a battery of bliss Let off in one tremendous kiss! "What's that ?" the startled master cries;

"That, thir," a little imp replies, "Wath William Willith, if you pleathe,

I thaw him kith Thuthanna Peathe!" With frown to make a statue thrill, The master thundered," Hither, Will!"

Like wretch o'ertaken in his track,

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amazed That you, my biggest pupil, should Be guilty of an act so rude! Before the whole set school to bootWhat evil genius put you to 't ?" "Twas she herself, sir," sobbed the lad;

"I did not mean to be so bad;
But when Susannah shook her curls,
And whispered, I was 'fraid of girls
And dursn't kiss a baby's doll,
I couldn't stand it, sir, at all,
But up and kissed her on the spot!
I know boo-hoo I ought to not,
But, somehow, from her looks
boo-hoo-

I thought she kird o' wished me to!"

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