Cob
Pipe!

II.

When the fire is blazing brightly and the room is snug and warm,
And you've left your cares and troubles on the outside with the storm,
And your natural leaf is colored with a golden yellow stripe,
Then glory hallelujah! Git yer
Old
Cob
Pipe!

III.

When the old split-bottom rocker is far better than a throne,
And the visions of the fancy are the fairest earth has known,
And you watch the mystic shapes that the dancing shadows write,
Then glory hallelujah! Git yer
Old
Cob
Pipe!

IV.

When your dressing gown and slippers might be envied by a king,
And the voices of the children sound as sweet as birds' that sing,
And the feelings that possess you are all of heavenly type,
Then glory hallelujah! Git yer
Old
Cob
Pipe!

V.

When the ringlets aromatic have circled round your head,
And a drowsiness o'ertakes you, and you want to go to bed,
And the bowlful that you're smoking has burned to ashes white,
Then glory hallelujah! Quit yer
Old
Cob
Pipe!

TIM BLUSTER'S DREAM.

'Twas a place of fifty acres, in a lonely neighborhood,
And near a grove of somber pines the shackly farm-house stood;
And all the folks, for miles around, did solemnly declare
That ghosts and goblins horrible held nightly revel there.

They said the house was "hanted," and that not a man alive,
In all the country round about, could own the place and thrive;
That the cattle died with fever, and the hogs the cholera took--
And every one that tried it wore a mighty troubled look.

But they put it up at auction, and Tim Bluster bid the most,
Who always said "There want no hants nor any kind of ghost
That ever walked a graveyard in the middle of the night
Could make _his_ nerves unsteady, or could fill _him_ with affright!"

So Tim got full possession, and he moved out to his home,
And the first night, as he sat there, within his room alone,
The door was softly opened, and a cat came walking in,
Wit