n say,
"Excuse me, ma'am," as he scampered away;
But I'm sure as can be his greatest joy
Is just to trot behind that boy.

MAY ELLIS NICHOLS.

THE IRISH GREYHOUND

Behold this creature's form and state;
Which nature therefore did create,
That to the world might be exprest
What mien there can be in a beast;
And that we in this shape may find
A lion of another kind.
For this heroic beast does seem
In majesty to rival him,
And yet vouchsafes to man to show
Both service and submission, too.
From whence we this distinction have,
That beast is fierce, but this is brave.
This dog hath so himself subdued
That hunger cannot make him rude,
And his behavior does confess
True courage dwells with gentleness.
With sternest wolves he dares engage,
And acts on them successful rage.
Yet too much courtesy may chance
To put him out of countenance.
When in his opposer's blood
Fortune hath made his virtue good,
This creature from an act so brave
Grows not more sullen, but more brave.
Man's guard he would be, not his sport,
Believing he hath ventured for't;
But yet no blood, or shed or spent,
Can ever make him insolent.
Few men of him to do great things have learned,
And when they're done to be so unconcerned.

KATHERINE PHILLIPS.

THE VAGABONDS

We are two travellers, Roger and I.
Roger's my dog.--Come here, you scamp!
Jump for the gentleman,--mind your eye!
Over the table,--look out for the lamp!
The rogue is growing a little old;
Five years we've tramped through wind and weather,
And slept out-doors when nights were cold,
And ate and drank--and starved--together.

We've learned what comfort is, I tell you!
A bed on the floor, a bit of rosin,
A fire to thaw our thumbs (poor fellow!
The paw he holds up there's been frozen),
Plenty of catgut for my fiddle
(This out-door business is bad for strings),
Then a few nice buckwheats hot from the griddle,
And Roger and I set up for kings!

No, thank ye, Sir,--I never drink;
Roger and I are exceedingly moral,--
Aren't we, Roger?--See him wink!--
Well, something hot, then,--we won't quarrel.
He's thirsty, too,--see him nod his head?
What a pity, Sir, that dogs can't talk!
He understands every word that's said,--
And he knows good milk from water-and-chalk.

The truth is, Sir, now I reflect,
I've been so sadly given to g