the door, and as he opened
it said,--

"Good-bye. But if you ever really do want a leg, Old Reliable is
ready for you; it's yours. I consider that you've got a mortgage on
it, and you kin foreclose at any time. I dedicate this leg to you. My
will shall mention it; and if you don't need it when I die, I'm going
to have it put in the savings bank to draw interest until you check
it out."

THE ENCHANTED SHIRT.

BY COLONEL JOHN HAY.

The King was sick. His cheek was red,
And his eye was clear and bright;
He ate and drank with a kingly zest,
And peacefully snored at night.

But he said he was sick, and a king should know,
And doctors came by the score,
They did not cure him. He cut off their heads,
And sent to the schools for more.

At last two famous doctors came,
And one was as poor as a rat,--
He had passed his life in studious toil,
And never found time to grow fat.

The other had never looked in a book;
His patients gave him no trouble:
If they recovered they paid him well;
If they died their heirs paid double.

Together they looked at the royal tongue,
As the King on his couch reclined;
In succession they thumped his august chest,
But no trace of disease could find.

The old sage said, "You're as sound as a nut."
"Hang him up," roared the King in a gale--
In a ten-knot gale of royal rage;
The other leech grew a shade pale;

But he pensively rubbed his sagacious nose,
And thus his prescription ran--
_The King will be well if he sleeps one night
In the Shirt of a Happy Man_.

* * * * *

Wide o'er the realm the couriers rode,
And fast their horses ran,
And many they saw, and to many they spoke,
But they found no Happy Man....

They saw two men by the roadside sit,
And both bemoaned their lot;
For one had buried his wife, he said,
And the other one had not.

At last they came to a village gate,
A beggar lay whistling there!
He whistled and sang, and laughed and rolled
On the grass in the soft June air.

The weary courtiers paused and looked
At the scamp so blithe and gay;
A