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he would continue to smoke his pipe in silence, and at length, knocking out the ashes, would exclaim, "Well, I see nothing in all that to laugh about."

V. EXAMPLES OF HIGH PITCH.

IRVING.

Joy, mirth, and gayety incline the voice to pure tone and high pitch. Calling to persons at a distance inclines the voice to high pitch and pure tone. Anger, courage, boldness, and exultation incline the voice to high pitch and loud force.

1. Sound drums and trumpets, boldly and cheerfully.

2. Ring joyous chords! ring out again

A swifter still and a wilder strain.

3. And dar'st thou, then,

To beard the lion in his den,

The Douglas in his hall?

4. But thou, O Hope, with eyes so fair,
What was thy delighted measure?

5. ANGER.

Call me their traitor!-Thou injúrious tribune!
Within thine eyes sat twenty thousand deaths,
In thine hands clutched as many millions, in
Thy lying tongue both numbers, I would say
Thou liest, unto thee, with a voice as free
As I do pray the gods.

6. VICTORY.

From Coriolanus.

They strike! hurrah! the foe has surrendered!
Shout! shout! my warrior boy,

And wave your cap, and clap your hands for joy.
Cheer answer cheer, and bear the cheer about.

Hurrah! hurrah! for the fiery fort is ours.

Victory! victory! victory!

7. CALLING.

I'm with you once again!-I call to you
With all my voice, I hold my hands to you,
To show they still are free. I rùsh to you
As though I could embrace you.

8, CALLING THE COWS.

Tell's Address to the Mountains.

When over the hill the farm-boy goes,
Cheerily calling,

"Co' boss! co' boss! co'! co'! co'!"

Farther, farther, over the hill,
Faintly calling, calling still,

"Co' boss! co' boss! co'! co'! co'!"

9. THE WATCHMAN'S CALL.

Ho! watchman, ho!

Twelve is the clock!
God keep our town
From fire and brand

And hostile hand!
Twelve is the clock!

10. THE SILVER BELLS.

Hear the sledges with the bells

Silver bells

TROWBRIDGE.

What a world of merriment their melody foretells!
How they tinkle, tinkle, tinkle,

In the icy air of night!
While the stars that oversprinkle
All the heavens, seemed to twinkle
With a crystalline delight;

Keeping time, time, time,

In a sort of Runic rhyme,

To the tintinnabulation that so musically wells

From the bells, bells, bells, bells,

Bells, bells, bells—

From the jingling and the tinkling of the bells. POE

11. EXULTATION.

Joy! joy forever! my task is done;

The gates are passed, and heaven is won.

12. COMMAND AND SHOUTING.

MOORE.

Advance your standards, draw your willing swords! Sound drums and trumpets, boldly and cheerfully! God, and Saint George! Richmond and victory!

13. THE CHARCOAL MAN.

Though rudely blows the wintry blast,
And sifting snows fall white and fast,
Mark Haley drives along the street,.
Perched high upon his wagon-seat;
His somber face the storm defies,
And thus from morn till eve he cries:-
แ "Charco'! charco'!"

While echo faint and far replies:-
"Hark, O! hark, O!"

"Charco'!"-" Hark, O!"-Such cheery sounds
Attend him on his daily rounds.

14. THE LOST HEIR.

One day, as I was going by

TROWBRIDGE.

That part of Holborn christened High,

I heard a loud and sudden cry

That chilled my very blood;

"O Lord! oh, dear, my heart will break, I shall go stick stark staring wild!

Has ever a one seen anything about the streets like a crying, lost-looking child?

The last time as ever I see him, poor thing, was with my own blessed motherly eyes,

Sitting as good as gold in the gutter, a-playing at making little dirt pies.

Billy—where are you, Billy?—I'm as hoarse as a crow, with screaming for ye, you young sorrow!

And sha'n't have half a voice, no more I sha'n't, for

crying fresh herrings to-morrow.

Billy-where are you, Billy, I say? come Billy, come

home to your best of mothers!

I'm scared when I think of them cabroleys, they drive so, they'd run over their own sisters and brothers. Or may be he's stole by some chimbly-sweeping wretch, to stick fast in narrow flues and what not, And be poked up behind with a picked pointed pole, when the soot has ketched, and the chimbly's red hot. Oh, I'd give the whole wide world, if the world was mine, to clap my two longin' eyes on his face; For he's my darlin' of darlin's, and if he don't soon come back, you'll see me drop stone-dead on the place. I only wish I'd got him safe in these two motherly arms, and wouldn't I hug him and kiss him! Lawk! I never knew what a precious he was-but a child don't not feel like a child till you miss him. Why, there he is! Punch and Judy hunting, the young wretch; it's that Billy as sartin as sin!

But let me get him home, with a good grip of his hair, and I'm blest if he shall have a whole bone in his skin!"

15. EXTRACTS FROM HOOD'S "TALE OF A TRUMPET."

Of all old women hard of hearing,

The deafest, sure, was Dame Eleanor Spearing!
On her head, it is true,

Two flaps there grew,

HOOD.

That served for a pair of gold rings to go through;

But for any purpose of ears in a parley,

They heard no more than ears of barley.

However, in the peddler came,

And the moment he met the eyes of the dame,
Popped a trumpet into her ear:-

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"There, ma'am! try it!

You need n't buy it

The last new patent-and nothing comes nigh it,
For affording the deaf, at little expense,

The sense of hearing, and hearing of sense!
A real bléssing--and no mistáke,
Invented for poor humanity's sake;

I would n't tell a lie, I would n't,

But mý trumpets have heard what Solomon's couldn't; Only a gúinea-and can't take less." (“That's very déar," says Dame Eleanor Ś.) "There was Mrs. F.,

So very déaf,

That she might have worn a percussion-cap,

And been knocked on the head without hearing it snap. Wêll, I sold her a hórn, and the very next dày

She heard from her husband at Botany Bày!

Come-speak your mind-it's 'No or Yês."" ("I've half a mind," said Dame Eleanor Ś.) "Try it-buy it!

Bùy it-try it!

The last new patent, and nothing comes nigh it."
In short, the peddler so besét her—

Lord Bacon could n't have gammoned her bétter-
With flatteries plump and indirect,

And plied his tongue with such efféct

A tongue that could almost have buttered a crúmpetThe deaf old woman bought the trumpet.

16. CONVERSATION UNDER DIFFICULTIES.

[Each supposes the other to be very deaf, the pitch at times running into screaming.]

Jones. (Speaking shrill and loud.) Miss, will you accept these flowers? I plucked them from their slumber on the hill.

Pru. (In an equally high voice.) Really sir, I—I—

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