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The other was a handsome man,
Quite pleasant, and quite fine;
He had a form of finest mould,
And straight as any pine.
Indeed, he was a handsome man
As you will often see,

—or you,

Much more so than you,-or you,-
But like President Grant,-or me.

This handsome man stood at the door
To let the people in,

And the way he took the quarters
And the shillings was a sin:

And when the time of show had come,
He a curtain pulled aside,

And our friend without a palate,

Stood in all his pomp and pride.

And in his brawny hand he held
A pound or two, or more,

Of shoemaker's wax, which he

Had some time made before. He began to work it,

And his audience thus addressed, And the people looked and listened;— Let their great surprise be guessed!

Said he, "My friends, how some folks cheat. I never could conceive;

But this is the real wax work,

For I stoop not to deceive:

This is your real wax work,

For your quarters and your twelves;Ladies and gentlemen, just walk up

And examine for yourselves!"

But when the people saw the joke,
With anger they turned pale,
Hammer and tongs they came at him,
To ride him on a rai;

But he had an open window,
And a ladder to the ground,
And just as he went out of sight,
He turned himself around,

And, holding up the wax to view,
Said, with a saucy grin,

"My friends here's no deception,
For I scorn to take you in;

This is real wax work,

For your quarters and your twelves;-
Ladies and gentlemen, please walk up
And examine for yourselves."

QUARREL OF BRUTUS AND CASSIUS.—Shakspeare. Julius Cæsar.-Act IV. Scene III.

Cassius-That you have wronged me doth appear in this: You have condemned and noted Lucius Pella

For taking bribes here of the Sardians,
Wherein my letters, praying on his side,
Because I knew the man, were slighted off.

Brutus-You wronged yourself to write in such a case.
Cassius-In such a time as this, it is not meet

That every nice offence should bear its comment.
Brutus-Let me tell you, Cassius, you yourself
Are much condemned to have an itching palm,
To sell and mart your offices for gold

To undeservers.

Cassius-I an itching palm?

You know that you are Brutus that speak this,

Or, by the gods, this speech were else your last.

Brutus The name of Cassius honors this corruption, And chastisement doth therefore hide his head.

Cassius-Chastisement!

Brutus-Remember March, the Ides of March remember! Did not great Julius bleed for justice' sake? What villian touched his body, that did stab, And not for justice? What, shall one of us, That struck the foremost man of all this world But for supporting robbers; shall we now Contaminate our fingers with base bribes, And sell the mighty space of our large honors, For so much trash as may be grasped thus? I had rather be a dog, and bay the moon Than such a Roman.

Cassius-Brutus, bay not me.

I'll not endure it: you forget yourself,
To hedge me in; I am a soldier, I,
Older in practice, abler than yourself
To make conditions.

Brutus-Go to; you are not, Cassius.
Cassius-I am.

Brutus-I say you are not.

NNN*

Cassius-Urge me no more, I shall forget myself;
Have mind upon your health, tempt me no further.
Brutus-Away, slight man!
Cassius-Is 't possible?

Brutus-Hear me for I will speak.

Must I give way and room to your rash choler?
Shall I be frighted when a madman stares?

Cassius-O ye gods! ye gods! must I endure all this?

Brutus-All this? Ay, more; fret till your proud heart break;

Go, show your slaves how choleric you are,

And make your bondmen tremble. Must I budge?

Must I observe you? Must I stand and crouch
Under your testy humor? By the gods,
You shall digest the venom of your spleen,
Though it do split you; for from this day forth,
I'll use you for my mirth, yea, for my laughter,
When you are waspish.

Cassius-Is it come to this?

Brutus-You say you are a better soldier:
Let it appear so; make your vaunting true,
And it shall please me well; for mine own part

I shall be glad to learn of noble men.

Cassius-You wrong me every way; you wrong me, Brutus; I said an elder soldier, not a better;

Did I say "better"?

Brutus-If you did, I care not.

Cassius-When Cæsar liv'd, he durst not thus have rov'd me. Brutus-Peace, peace! you durst not thus have tempted him Cassius-I durst not?

Brutus-No.

Cassius- What? Durst not tempt him?

Brutus-For your life you durst not.

Cassius-Do not presume too much upon my love;

I may do that I shall be sorry for.

Brutus--You have done that you should be sorry for. There is no terror, Cassius, in your threats;

For I am armed so strong in honesty

That they pass by me as the idle wind,

Which I respect not. I did send to you

For certain sums of gold, which you denied me;
For I can raise no money by vile means;

By heaven, I had rather coin my heart,

And drop my blood for drachmas, than to wring

From the hard hands of peasants their vile trash
By any indirection. I did send

To you for gold to pay my legions,

Which you denied me: Was that done like Cassius?
Should I have answered Caius Cassius so?

When Marcus Brutus grows so covetous,

To lock such rascal counters from his friends,

Be ready, gods, with all your thunderbolts;
Dash him to pieces!

Cassius-I denied you not
Brutus-You did.

Cassius-I did not: he was but a fool

That brought my answer back. Brutus hath rived my heart. A friend should bear his friend's infirmities,

But Brutus makes mine greater than they are.

Brutus-I do not, till you practice them on me.
Cassius-You love me not.

Brutus-I do not like your faults.

Cassius—A friendly eye could never see such faults. Brutus-A flatterer's would not, though they do appear As huge as high Olympus.

Cassius-Come, Antony, and young Octavius, come! Revenge yourselves alone on Cassius,

For Cassius is aweary of the world:

Hated by one he loves; braved by his brother;
Checked like a bondman; all his faults observed,
Set in a note-book, learned, and conned by rote,
To cast into my teeth. Oh, I could weep
My spirit from mine eyes! There is my dagger,
And here my naked breast; within, a heart,
Dearer than Plutus' mine, richer than gold:
If that thou be'st a Roman, take it forth;
I, that denied thee gold, will give my heart:
Strike as thou didst at Cæsar; for, I know,

When thou didst hate him worst, thou lovedst him better
Than ever thou lovedst Cassius.

Brutus-Sheathe your dagger:

Be angry when you will, it shall have scope;
Do what you will, dishonor shall be humor.

O Cassius, you are yoked with a lamb

That carries anger as the flint bears fire:
Who, much enforced, shows a hasty spark,
And straight is cold again.

Cassius-Hath Cassius lived

To be but mirth and laughter to his Brutus,

When grief and blood ill-tempered, vexeth him?

Brutus-When I spoke that I was ill-tempered, too.

Cassius-Do you confess so much? Give me your hand

Brutus-And my heart, too. [Embracing.]

Cassius-O Brutus!

Brutus-What's the matter?

Cassius-Have you not love enough to bear with me, When that rash humor which my mother gave me Makes me forgetful?

Brutus-Yes, Cassius; and, from henceforth, When you are over-earnest with your Brutus, He'll think your mother chides, and leave you so

"FATHER, TAKE MY HAND."-HENRY N. COBB.

The way is dark, my Father! Cloud on cloud
Is gathering thickly o'er my head, and loud
The thunders roar above me. See, I stand
Like one bewildered! Father, take my hand,
And through the gloom
Lead safely home
Thy child!

The day goes fast, my Father! and the night
Is drawing darkly down. My faithless sight
Sees ghostly visions. Fears, a spectral band,
Encompass me. O Father! take my hand,
And from the night
Lead up to light
Thy child!

The way is long, my Father! and my soul
Longs for the rest and quiet of the goal :
While yet I journey through this weary land,
Keep me from wandering. Father, take my hand;
Quickly and straight

Lead to heaven's gate
Thy child!

The path is rough, my Father! Many a thorn
Has pierced me; and my weary feet, all torn
And bleeding, mark the way. Yet thy command
Bids me press forward. Father, take my hand;

Then, safe and blest,

Lead up to rest

Thy child!

The throng is great my Father! Many a doubt And fear and danger compass me about;

And foes oppress me sore.

I cannot stand

Or go alone. O Father! take my hand,
And through the throng
Lead safe along
Thy child!

The cross is heavy, Father! I have borne
It long, and still do bear it. Let my worn
And fainting spirit rise to that blest land
Where crowns are given. Father, take my hand;
And reaching down

Lead to the crown
Thy child!

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