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there be players, that I have seen play, and heard others praise, and that highly, not to speak it profanely, that, neither having the accent of Christians, nor the gait of Christian, pagan, or man, have so strutted and bellowed, that I have thought some of nature's journeymen had made men, and not made them well, -they imitated humanity so abominably !-SHAKSPEARE.
This selection is a poem addressed to the class of 1829, in Harvard College, some thirty years after their graduation. The author, who retains, in a high degree, the freshness and joyousness of youth, addresses his classmates as “boys."
UAS there any old fellow got mixed with the boys ?
We're twenty! We're twenty! Who says we are more ?
Was it snowing I spoke of? Excuse the mistake!
We've a trick, we young fellows, you may have been told,
That fellow's the “Speaker," the one on the right;
That boy with the grave mathematical look
And there's a nice youngster of excellent pith ;
( W. HOLMES
SCROOGE AND MARLEY.
MARLEY was dead to begin with. There is no doubt UT whatever about that. The register of his burial was signed by the clergyman, the clerk, the undertaker, and the chief mourner. Scrooge signed it: and Scrooge's name was good upon 'Change, for anything he chose to put his hand to. Old Marley was as dead as a door-nail.
Mind! I don't mean to say that I know, of my own knowledge, what there is particularly dead about a doornail. I might have been inclined, myself, to regard a coffin-nail as the deadest piece of ironmongery in the trade. But the wisdom of our ancestors is in the simile; and my unhallowed hands shall not disturb it, or the Country's done for. You will therefore permit me to repeat, emphatically, that Marley was as dead as a doornail.
Scrooge knew he was dead? Of course he did. How could it be otherwise ? Scrooge and he were partners for I don't know how many years. Scrooge was his sole executor, his sole administrator, his sole assign, his sole residuary legatee, his sole friend, and sole mourner. And even Scrooge was not so dreadfully cut up by the sad event but that he was an excellent man of business on the very day of the funeral, and solemnized it with an undoubted bargain.
Scrooge never painted out old Marley's name. There it stood, years afterward, above the warehouse door: Scrooge and Marley. The firm was known as Scrooge and Marley. Sometimes people new to the business called Scrooge Scrooge, and sometimes Marley, but he answered to both names: it was all the same to him.
Oh! But he was a tight-fisted band at the grindstone, Scrooge!a squeezing, wrenching, grasping,scraping, clutching, covetous old sinner! Hard and sharp as flint, from which no steel had ever struckout generous fire; secret and self-contained, and solitary as an oyster. The cold within him froze his old features, nipped his pointed nose, shriveled his cheek, stiffened his gait; made his eyes red, his thin lips blue; and spoke out shrewdly in his grating voice. A frosty rime was on his head, and on his eyebrows, and his wiry chin. He carried his own low temperature always about with him; he iced his office in the dog-days; and didn't thaw it one degree at Christmas.
External heat and cold had little influence on Scrooge. No warmth could warm, nor wintry weather chill him. No wind that blew was bitterer than he, no falling snow was more intent upon its purpose, no pelting rain less open to entreaty. Foul weather didn't know where to have him. The heaviest rain, and snow, and hail, and sleet, could boast of the advantage over him in only one respect. They often “came down” handsomely, and Scrooge never did.
Nobody ever stopped him in the street to say, with gladsome looks, "My dear Scrooge, how are you? when will you come to see me?" No beggars implored him to bestow a trifle, no children asked him what it was o'clock, no man or woman ever once in all his life inquired the way to such and such a place, of Scrooge. Even the blind-men's dogs appeared to know him; and when they saw him coming on, would tug their owners into doorways and up courts; and then would wag their tails as though they said, “No eye at all is better than an evil eye, dark master !”
But what did Scrooge care? It was the very thing he liked. To edge his way along the crowded paths of life, warning all human sympathy to keep its distance, was what the knowing ones call “nuts” to Scrooge.
THE RELIEF OF LUCKNOW.
NH! that last day in Lucknow fort;
We knew that it was the last,
And the end was coming fast.
And the men and we all worked on;
And then it would all be done. There was one of us, a corporal's wife,
A fair young gentle thing,
And her mind was wandering.
And I took her head on my knee; “When my father comes hame frae the pleugh,” she said,
“Oh! please then waken me.”
In the flecking of woodbine shade,
And the mother's wheel is stayed.
And hopeless waiting for death ;
Seemed scarce to draw her breath. [ sank to sleep and I had my dream
Of an English village lane and wall and garden-till a sudden scream
Brought me back to the rear again.
her father de
n en door