wailed Aunt Susan, as she poured the water off the potatoes. "If I ebber git out o' dis ribber alive, I'll break her old deaf head, I will!" growled the victim; and then, raising his voice, he shouted,― "You dare, old Satan, hi, hi!" As if in direct answer, came the song, "He struggles wid de evil one; But he gained de vict'ry, shore!" 'Susan, Susan! if I had ye by de wool, I'd barry dat old deaf head agin de cabin till yer eyes couldn't see!" he screamed; and he made another tremendous effort to get loose. It was successful; and just then she sang, "Oh! whar's de angel now? Send him 'long; send him 'long!" "De angel am a-comin'!" growled Uncle Reuben as he waded ashore; "and he'll turn dat cabin inside out!" He limped up to the house. She was placing the meal on the table, and singing,— "He's gwine to be baptized; when he entered the house, and gave her a cuff on the ear which nearly loosened the roots of her hair. "Oh, yes! I'ze an angel wid wings on, I is!" he yelled, as he brought her another cuff; "and I'ze gwine to glory, -and I'll knock yer old head off!—and I'ze gwine to jine de band and you deaf old alligator !—and I'ze gwine up to heaven-and blame yer old deaf ears!-and de glory am comin'!" People who know Uncle Reuben say that he swears again with great relish; and it is certain that he hasn't been up to Vicksburg to be baptized, and become a church-member. NOTE The following pages contain the Supplements to the four Numbers of" 100 Choice Selections" embraced in this volume, which, for greater convenience in arranging, are here grouped together instead of appear. ing at the end of the Numbers to which they respectively belong. SUPPLEMENT TO One Hundred Choice Selections, No. 9 CONTAINING SENTIMENTS For Public Occasions; WITTICISMS For Home Enjoyment; LIFE THOUGHTS For Private Reflection; Say not that friendship's but & name, Sincere we none can find; An empty bubble in the air, A phantom of the mind. What is this life without a friend? A dreary race to run, A desert where no water is, A world without a sun. Alfred. If you can be well without health, you can be happy without virtue. Burke. An honorable death is better than an inglorious life. Socrates. Mere empty-headed conceit excites our pity, but ostenta tious hypocrisy awakens our disgust. Dickens The Sabbath is the golden clasp which binds together the volume of the week. Longfellow. The path of sorrow, and that path alone, No traveler ever reached that blest abode Who found not thorns and briers in the road. Couper. Oh, happy you, who, blest with present bliss, Mrs. Tighe. Crashaw. Knowledge may slumber in the memory, but it neve dies; it is like the dormouse in its home in the old ivied tower, that sleeps while winter lasts, but wakes with the ▼arm breath of suing. The base wretch who hoards up all he can Is praised and called a careful, thrifty man. Dryden. It needs not great wealth a kind heart to display,— Swain. I wouldn't give a penny for a man as would drive a nail in slack because he didn't get extra pay for it. Geo. Eliot. For who would lose, Though full of pain this intellectual being, Those thoughts that wander through eternity, In the wide tomb of uncreated night? Milton. Misfortune does not always wait on vice; nor is success the constant guest of virtue. Unblemished let me live, or die unknown; Oh grant an honest fame, or grant me none. Hazard. Pope. Happy the man who can endure the highest and the lowest fortune. He who has endured such vicissitudes with equanimity has deprived misfortune of its power. Were I, O God, in churchless lands remaining, Priests, sermons, shrines! Seneca. Horace Smith. It is one of the sad conditions of life, that experience is not transmissible. No man will learn from the sufferings of another; he must suffer himself. I feel no care of coin; Well-doing is my wealth; My mind to me an empire is, While grace affordeth health. Southwell. Words are things; and a small drop of ink, falling like dew upon a thought, produces that which makes thousands, perhaps millions, think. Byron. |