fell out unexpected-pop, on a sudden; like the going off of a field-piece, or an alderman in apoplexy.

Sir C. Explain.

Oll. Happening to be at home-rainy day-no going out to sport, blister, shoot, nor bleed-was busy behind the counter. You know my shop, Sir Charles-Galen's' Head over the door -new gilt him last week, by the by-looks as fresh as a pill. Sir C. Well, no mōre on that head now. Proceed.

Oll. On that head! [Laughing.] He' he! he! That's very well-very well, indeed! Thank you, good sir-I owe you one! Churchwarden Posh, of our town, being ill of an indigestion, from eating three pounds of measly pork at a vestry dinner, I was making up a cathartic for the patient; when who should strut into the shop but Lieutenʼant Grains, the brewer, sleek as a dray-horse-in a smart scarlet jacket, tastily turned up with a rhubarb-colored lapel'! I confess his figure struck me. I looked at him, as I was thumping the mortar, and felt instantly inoculated with a military ardor.

Sir C. Inoculated! I hope your ardor was of a favorable sort. Oll. Ha! ha! That's very well-very well, indeed! Thank you, good sir-I owe you one! We first talked of shootinghe knew my celebrity that way, Sir Charles. I told him, the day before I had killed six brace' of birds. I thumped on at the mortar. We then talked of physic; I told him, the day before I had killed-lost, I mean, six brace of patients. I thumped on at the mortar, eying him all the while; for he looked very flashy, to be sure; and I felt an itching to belong to the corps. The medical and military both deal in death, you know-so, 'twas natural. He! he!-do you take, good sir? do you take?

Sir C. Take! Oh, nobody can miss.

Oll. He then talked of the corps itself; said it was sickly; and if a professional person would administer to the health of

1 Ga' len, or in Latin, Claudius Galenus, a celebrated physician and most prolific and able writer, was born about 131 A. D. At the age of thirty-four he settled at Rome, where, soon after, he became physician to the Emperor Marcus Aurelius. Med

icine and every science allied to it are under great obligations to Galen. He was a man skilled in all philosophy, a profound reasoner, an ardent admirer of truth, and a worthy member of society.

2 Brace, a pair; a couple.

the association, dose the men, and drench the horses, he could, perhaps, procure him a cornetcy.

Sir C. Well, you jumped at the offer?

Oll. Jumped! I jumped over the counter; kicked down Churchwarden Posh's cathartic into the pocket of Lieūtěnʼant Grains' smart scarlet jacket, tastily turned up with a rhubarbcolored lapel'; embraced him and his offer; and I am now Cornet Ollapod, apothecary, at the Galen's Head; of the Association Corps of Cavalry, at your service!

Sir C. I wish you joy of your appointment. You may now distill water for the shop from the laurels you gather in the field.

Oll. Water for-Oh! laurel-water. He! he! Come, that's věry well-very well, indeed! Thank you, good sir-I owe you one! Why, I fancy fame will follow, when the poison of a small mistake I made has ceased to operate.

Sir C. A mistake!

1

Oll. Having to attend Lady Kitty Carbuncle, on a grand field-day, I clapped a pint bottle of her ladyship's diet-drink into one of my holsters, intending to proceed to the patient, after the exercise was over. I reached the martial ground, and jalaped-galloped, I mean-wheeled, and flourished, with great éclat; but when the word "Fire!" was given, meaning to pull out my pistol, in a deuce of a hurry, I presented, neck foremost, the diet-drink of Lady Kitty Carbuncle; and the medicine being, unfortunately, fermented by the jolting of my horse, it forced out the cork, with a prodigious pop, full in the face of my gallant commander.

Sir C. Ha! ha! ha! A mistake, indeed.

Oll. Rather awkward!-But, Sir Charles, excuse me-your servant! I must march-patients impatient. You take? Sir C. Oh, yes; and so will they, I fancy, before you've done with them.

Oll. Ha! physic-certainly! quin'tida, scammony, gamboge.' sir; I owe you one!

1 Eclat, (e klå), brilliancy of success or effort which attracts admira

Salts, rhubarb, senna, coloGood, good! thank you, good [They go out at opposite sides.

III.

165. THE WONDERFUL "ONE-HOSS SHAY."

AVE you

HA

A LOGICAL STORY.

heard of the wonderful one-hoss shāy,

H That was built in such a logical' way

It ran a hundred years to a day,

And then, of a sudden, it-Ah, but stay,
I'll tell you what happened, without delay-
Scaring the parson into fits,

2

3

Frightening people out of their wits-
Have you ever heard of that, I say?
2. Seventeen hundred and fifty-five,
Georgius Secundus was then alive-
Snuffy old drone from the German hive!
That was the year when Lisbon' town
Saw the earth open and gulp her down,
And Braddock's' army was done so brown,
Left without a scalp to its crown.

It was on the terrible Earthquake-day
That the Deacon finished the one-hoss shay.
3. Now, in building of chaises, I tell you what,
There is always, somewhere, a weakest spot-
In hub, tire, felloe, in spring or thill,
In panel or crossbar, or floor, or sill,
In screw, bolt, thoroughbrace-lurking still,
Find it somewhere you must and will—

1 Logical, (löj′ Îk ål), according to the rules of correct reasoning and thinking; discriminating.

2 Scaring, (scåring).

Georgius Secundus, George II., king of England, born in 1683, and died October 25, 1760.

• Lisbon, (liz' bon), a city of western Europe, capital of the kingdom of Portugal, situated on the right bank of the Tagus, near its mouth, in the Atlantic Ocean. The earthquake here alluded to threw down a consid

erable part of the city, and destroyed about 60,000 of its inhabitants.

' Edward Braddock, Major-general and Commander-in chief of the British forces in America, conducted an expedition against Fort Duquesne (du kan), now Pittsburg. On the 9th of July, 1755, while attempting to invest the fort, he fell into an ambush prepared by the Indians and the French, in which he lost nearly onehalf of his troops, and himself received a mortal wound (wond).

Above or below, or within or without-
And that's the reason, beyond a doubt,
A chaise breaks down, but does n't wear out.

4. But the Deacon swore- -(as Deacons do,

With an "I dew vum or an "I tell yeou”)—
He would build one shay to beat the taown

'N' the keounty 'n' all the kentry raoun';

It should be so built that it couldn' break daown:~ "Fur, said the Deacon, "'t's mighty plain

Thut the weakes' place mus' stan' the strain; 'N' the way t' fix it, uz I maintain,

Is only jest

To make that place uz strong uz the rest.”

5. So the Deacon inquired of the village folk
Where he could find the strongest oak,
That could n't be split, nor bent, nor broke—
That was for spokes, and floor, and sills;
He sent for lancewood, to make the thills;
The crossbars were ash, from the straightèst trees;
The panels of white-wood, that cuts like cheese,
But lasts like iron for things like these ;
The hubs from logs from the "Settler's ellum "-
Last of its timber-they could n't sell 'em—
Never an ax had seen their chips,

And the wedges flew from between their lips,
Their blunt ends frizzled like celery-tips;

Step and prop-iron, bōlt and screw,
Spring, tire, axle, and linchpin too,
Steel of the finèst, bright and blue;
Thoroughbrace bison-skin, thick and wide;
Boot, top, dasher, from tough old hide,
Found in the pit where the tanner died.
That was the way he "put her through."
"There!" said the Deacon, "naow she'll dew!"

6. Do! I tell you, I rather guess

She was a wonder, and nothing less!

Colts grew horses, beards turned gray,
Deacon and deaconèss dropped away,

Children and grandchildren-where were they?

But there stood the stout old one-hoss shay,
As fresh as on Lisbon-earthquake-day!
7. EIGHTEEN HUNDRED-it came, and found
The Deacon's masterpiece strong and sound.
Eighteen hundred, increased by ten-
"Hahnsum kerridge" they called it then.
Eighteen hundred and twenty came ;-
Running as usual-much the same.
Thirty and forty at last arrive ;
And then came fifty-and FIFTY-FIVE.
8. Little of all we value here

Wakes on the morn of its hundredth year
Without both feeling and looking queer.
In fact, there's nothing that keeps its youth,
So far as I know, but a tree and truth.
(This is a moral that runs at large :

Take it. You're welcome.-No extra charge.)
9. FIRST OF NOVEMBER-the Earthquake-day.-
There are traces of age in the one-hoss shay,
A general flavor of mild decay—

But nothing local, as one may say.
There could n't be-for the Deacon's art
Had made it so like in every part

That there was n't a chance for one to start.
For the wheels were just as strong as the thills,
And the floor was just as strong as the sills,
And the panels just as strong as the floor,
And the whipple-tree neither less nor more,
And the back crossbar as strong as the fōre,
And spring, and axle, and hub encore.1
And yet, as a whole, it is past a doubt
In another hour it will be worn out!

10. First of November, 'Fifty-five!

This morning the parson' takes a drive.
Now, small boys, get out of the way!
Here comes the wonderful one-hoss shay,

1 Encore, (ỏng kor'), once more; again; the same;-a word used by the auditors and spectators of plays

and other sports to call for a repeti tion of a particular part.

'Parson, (pår' sn), a clergyman.