some plaguey thing or nuther-ha! ha! ha!-'Taint no wonder, for they eat everything under the heavens. In my day, I never heerd uv no such thing as chicken sallit -and dev'ld crabs-and tarry pin-why, 't's enough ter kill the old Harry. I happened to be daown ter Concord t'other day, un abaout noon I tell ye, I got putty hungry. I was lookin' raound for suthin ter eat, un seed the sign uv "Restyrunt." I went in un sot daown to a little table baout's big 's yer hand, un putty soon a black feller come along, un sez he, wot'l yer have? I looked at him considable sharp, un said,—sez I, wal, vittles, I guess! ha ha! ha! I dunno wot under heavens he thought I was there arter, 'thout 't was for suthin ter eat.

Ef I should live till next Jinnywary, I s'pose I shall be eighty-three year old,-un I can git from bed ter fire putty handy yit, with a little piece er carpet on the floor. Hi! hi! hi!-But I tell 'em I ain't goin' ter do much more hard work. The young folks can do the work naow-I guess I've done abaout my sheer-ha! ha! ha!--Miss Pillsbury sez sometimes, she's moast afraid we shall hev ter go to the poor-house-but I tell her I guess we shall manage ter keep aout somehow or nuther.

Yes, I calculate ter take things putty easy. I doant do much but walk raound and look at the boys a little. They was a mowin' the old Spring-piece t'other day, and I said ter my oldest son Isaiah-Isaiah, sez I-I'll bet yeou the best caow in the barn, I ken mow round the old Spring-piece quicker'n you can ter save yer gizzard, -Wal,-he didn't take me up-not ret away, ha! ha! ha! I think's jes like as not, I sh'd a gin aout by the time I got to the lower bars, but I'd a gin him a pull at the start, by Jehewkabus. Ha! ha! ha!-I was daown ter the store t'other day lookin' raound, and I sez to Mr. Jones sez I, what are you a taxin' for your merlassis?

Wal,-he said he had some good for twenty-eight cents a garlon—but the best, sez he, is thirty cents. Sez I, you may give me a quart uv the best-the best is good enough for me-ha! ha!-He ask'd me ef I chawed as much terbacker as I used ter? I told him I guessed-I guessed I chawed a lettle more ef anything-hi! hi! hi!-He said he had some thet he could recommend. I told him I ginerally-I ginerally got the caum'n pigtail terbacker, and soaked it in a leetle whiskey un merlassis, un one thing another, un it was as good terbacker as I want ter chaw-hi! hi! hi!

DEATH OF LITTLE JO.

Jo is very glad to see his old friend; and says, when

they are left alone, that he takes it uncommon kind as Mr. Snagsby should come so far out of his way on accounts of sich as him. Mr. Snagsby, touched by the spectacle before him, immediately lays upon the table half-a-crown, that magic balsam of his for all kinds of wounds.

"And how do you find yourself, my poor lad?" inquires the stationer, with his cough of sympathy.

"I'm in luck, Mr. Sangsby, I am," returns Jo, "and don't want for nothink. I'm more cumf'bler nor you can't think, Mr. Sangsby. I'm wery sorry that I done it, but I didn't go fur to do it, sir."

The stationer softly lays down another half-crown, and asks him what it is that he is sorry for having done.

"Mr. Sangsby," says Jo, "I went and giv a illness to the lady as wos and yet as war'n't the t'other lady, and none of em never says nothink to me for having done it, on accounts of their being so good and my having been so unfortnet. The lady come herself and see me yes'day,

and she ses, 'Ah, Jo!' she ses. 'We thought we'd lost you, Jo!' she ses. And she sits down a smilin' so quiet, and don't pass a word nor yit a look upon me for having done it, she don't, and I turns agin the wall, I does, Mr. Sangsby. And Mr. Jarnders, I see him a forced to turn away his own self. And Mr. Woodcot, he come fur to give me somethink for to ease me, wot he's allus a doin' on day and night, and when he come a bendin' over me and a speakin' up so bold, I see his tears a fallin', Mr. Sangsby."

The softened stationer deposits another half-crown on the table. Nothing less than a repetition of that infallible remedy will relieve his feelings.

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"Wot I wos thinkin' on, Mr. Sangsby," proceeds Jo, wos, as you wos able to write wery large, p'raps ?" "Yes, Jo, please God," returns the stationer.

"Uncommon precious large, p'raps?" says Jo, with eagerness.

"Yes, my poor boy."

Jo laughs with pleasure. "Wot I was thinkin' on then, Mr. Sangsby, wos, that wen I wos moved on as fur as ever I could go, and couldn't be moved no furder, whether you might be so good, p'raps, as to write out, wery large, so that any one could see it anywheres, as that I wos wery truly hearty sorry that I done it, and that I never went fur to do it; and that though I didn't know nothink at all, I know'd as Mr. Woodcot once cried over it, and wos allus grieved over it, and that I hoped as he'd be able to forgive me in his mind. If the writin' could be made to say it wery large he might."

"It shall say it, Jo; very large."

Jo laughs again. "Thankee, Mr. Sangsby. It's wery kind of you, sir, and it makes me more cumf'bler nor I was afore."

The meek little stationer, with a broken and unfinished cough, slips down his fourth half-crown, he has never been so close to a case requiring so many,—and is fain to depart. And Jo and he, upon this little earth, shall meet no more. No more.

(Another Scene.-Enter Mr. Woodcourt.) "Well, Jo, what is the matter? Don't be fright

ened."

I thought," says Jo, who has started, and is looking round, "I thought I was in Tom-all-Alone's agin. An't there nobody here but you, Mr. Woodcot?"

"Nobody."

"And I an't took back to Tom-all-Alone's, am I, sir ?"

"No."

Jo closes his eyes, muttering, "I am wery thankful." After watching him closely a little while, Allan puts his mouth very near his ear, and says to him in a low, distinct voice: "Jo, did you ever know a prayer?"

"Never knowd nothink, sir."

"Not so much as one short prayer?"

"No, sir. Nothink at all. Mr. Chadbands he wos a prayin' onst at Mr. Sangsby's and I heerd him, but he sounded as if he was speakin' to hisself, and not to me. He prayed a lot, but I couldn't make out nothink on it. Different times there wos other gentlemen come down Tom-all-Alone's a prayin', but they all mostly said as the t'other wuns prayed wrong, and all mostly sounded to be a talkin' to theirselves, or a passin' blame on the t'others, and not a talkin' to us. We never knowed nothink. I never knowed what it was all about."

It takes him a long time to say this; and few but an experienced and attentive listener could hear, or hear

ing, understand him. After a short relapse into sleep or stupor, he makes, of a sudden, a strong effort to get out of bed.

"Stay, Jo, stay! What now?”

"It's time for me to go to that there berryin' ground, sir," he returns with a wild look.

"Lie down and tell me. Jo ?"

What burying ground,

"Where they laid him as wos wery good to me; wery good to me indeed, he wos. It's time for me to go down to that there berryin' ground, sir, and ask to be put along with him. I wants to go there and be berried. He used fur to say to me, 'I am as poor as you, to-day, Jo,' he ses. I wants to tell him that I am as poor as him now, and have come there to be laid along with him." By-and-by, Jo; by-and-by."

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"Ah! P'raps they wouldn't do it if I wos to go myself. But will you promise to have me took there, sir, and laid along with him?"

"I will, indeed."

"Thankee, sir! Thankee, sir! They'll have to get the key of the gate afore they can take me in, for it's allus locked. And there's a step there, as I used fur to clean with my broom.-It's turned wery dark, sir. Is there any light a comin' ?”

"It is coming fast, Jo."

Fast. The cart is shaken all to pieces, and the rugged road is very near its end.

"Jo, my poor fellow!"

"I hear you, sir, in the dark, but I'm a gropin'—a gropin'-let me catch hold of your hand."

"I'll

good."

say anythink as you say, sir, for I knows it's