"Where such a mode of death prevails, of course "The executioner must needs be clever, "Expert and dexterous in decapitation"One who can wield the sword of death with force, "And from the hapless trunk the caput sever, "With nought of trembling or precipitation." "Well, at this time," said Tom," when we were there, "The headsman chanced to die, and not a man "Among the semi-barbarous race "Had skill enough to fill his place; "We Christians, therefore, quickly summon'd were "Tappear before the Dey, whose orders ran, "That we should try our skill on traitors three, "And he that did excel should thence be FREE. "With such incitement, who'd not do his best? "The swords were brought-the wretches half undress'd; "Whilst we, poor slaves, in anxious expectation, "Waited the dreadful 'note of preparation.' "Erect the culprits stood-no blocks had they to die on, "For lux'ries there are scarce, you may rely on. "The Spaniard first was call'd on to perform ""Twas sure, yet far from slow. "The Frenchman next, with much deliberation, "He tied around the neck of wretch the second "A piece of narrow tape; "See, see!' cried he, I'll cut this tape asunder; e "The tape was cut in twain-so well divided, "That half remained above and half below; "So just the Frenchman's aim, so sure his blow, "My poor attempt already was derided, "But then," said Tom, "I knew what I could do"So back my arm I drew, "Then round I swung the sword with all my might; "It flew like lightning o'er the fellow's shoulders, "Yet there, apparently unhurt he stood! "Which so amazed the barbarous beholders, "Who saw my aim was good, "That first they stared at him, and then at me, "Then at my sword, which they could plainly see, "Reek'd with the culprit's blood! "The wretch now spoke-says he, 'My head's all right.' "Is it, my lad? said I-Come, then, we'll try "I should have been the headsman, had I staid; "So I the butchering business soon discarded; QUESTION AND ANSWER. "Can you, by any means, the cause divine, OH, ERIN MY COUNTRY. (MOORE.) Oh, Erin, my country! although thy harp slumbers, With scarce one kind hand to awaken its numbers, Whilst there lives but one bard to enliven its tone. Oh, Erin, my country! I love thy green bowers, And nought is more dear than thy daisy-clad hills; Thy caves, whether used by thy warriors or sages, Are still sacred held in each Irishman's heart, Thy ivy-crown'd turrets, the pride of past ages, Though mould'ring in ruins, do grandeur impart. Britannia may boast of her lion and armour, And glory when she her old wooden walls views, Caledonia may boast of her pibroch and claymore, And pride in her philibeg, kilt, and her hose. But where is the nation to rival old Erin ?And where is the country such heroes can boast ? In battle they're brave as the tiger or lion, And bold as the eagle that flies round the coast. The breeze often shakes both the rose and the thistle, Whilst Erin's green shamrock lies hush'd in the dale; In safety it rests while the stormy winds whistle, Job Jenkins dealt in grocery, In short, a thrifty man was Job, That pleasure fail'd to tempt him from And many a year was past and gone, Since he had ventured far beyond Job had a num'rous family, Some fourteen babes, I ween, She was a fair and comely dame One evening-'twas in hot July- "I take it very hard indeed, "A prudent wife, like me, "Can't go with other folks abroad, "What service are my silken gowns, "Friend Sarcenet keeps his country house, 66 And, though I say it of myself, "Without a grain of pride, "I don't think folks at me would sneer, "By Madam Sarcenet's side. "There's neighbour Lamp, the oilmonger. "Suppose then, Job, by way of chance, Job hung his lip, but, noting soon The children caught the welcome "yes!" Of stockings, caps, and frills! Next Sunday came; without a cloud Two boats are hired, and o'er the Thames, |