SHIFTLESS NEIGHBOR BALL. GRANDMA wanted to paper the kitchen, and parlor, and hall · One May, having money enough, she started grandpa for town With his head full of directions about white, scarlet, and brown, And me, perched on the seat with him, in my new pink gingham gown. "Good-by," called grandma, smiling like a girl sending for a toy, As Major went off at a spanking pace, and grandpa laughed like a boy, To see Kriss Kringle, the shepherd dog, leaping about for joy. "We shall blow out like a garden," grandpa said, as we drove along, "The old house will look gay as a sparrow breaking into song; It may be it's all vanity, but I can't see as it's wrong. "Halloo! Good morning, neighbor Ball. Whoa! Major; can't you stand still ? Get right in here, I'll carry you as far as the Village Hill. What's the matter? You look like a man who's going to make his will. "What! To raise your interest-money you have got to sell your cow P Well, that Evans is an old skinflint, I guess I must allow. I didn't dare to speak, as grandpa counted the silver out, about, Drove straight back to the farm-house door, where grandma set up a shout: "Why, father! how does it happen that you are back so soon from town? Did a crick catch you in your back? Did old Major stumble down ? Or, did you forget what I told you?" and grandma began to frown. So the old man told his story, with a sweet, pathetic grace: "You wouldn't care, I know," he said, "had you seen our neighbor's face; And it's by lending to the Lord that we win in heaven a place." “Well, I declare!" said grandma; "if of queer men you don't beat all; But perhaps it may be so we can fit up some in the fall ; LANTY LEARY. LANTY was in love, you see, With lovely, lively Rosie Carey, To give the girl to Lanty Leary. Says she, "my father's so conthrairy, Won't you follow me? won't you follow me?" "Faith, I will!" says Lanty Leary. But her father died one day (I hear 'twas not from dhrinking wather); House and land and cash, they say, He left by will to Rose, his daughther; House and land and cash to seize, Away she cut so light and airy : Rose herself was taken bad, The fayver worse each day was growin'. "Lanty dear," says she, ""tis sad, To th' other world I'm surely goin'; Won't you follow me? won't you follow me?" SAMUEL LOVER. THE BARON'S LAST BANQUET. O'ER a low couch the setting sun had thrown its latest ray, "They come around me here, and say my days of life are o'er, "And what is death? I've dared him oft before the Paynim spear; Think ye he's entered at my gate has come to seek me here ? I've met him, faced him, scorned him, when the fight was waging hot; I'll try his might―I'll brave his power; defy, and fear him not. "Ho! sound the tocsin from my tower, and fire the culverin – An hundred hands were busy then spread, - the banquet forth was And rung the heavy oaken floor with many a martial tread; While, from the rich, dark tracery along the vaulted wall, Lights gleamed on harness, plume, and spear, in the proud old Gothic hall. Fast hurrying through the outer gate the mailed retainers poured On through the portal's frowning arch, and thronged around the board. While at its head, within his dark, carved, oaken chair of state, Armed cap-a-pie, stern Rudiger, with girded falchion, sate. "Fill every beaker up, my men, pour forth the cheering wine, There's life and strength in every drop - thanksgiving to the vine ! Are all there, my vassals true? ye mine eyes are waxing dim; Fill round, my tried and fearless ones, each goblet to the brim. "You're there, but yet I see ye not. Draw forth each trusty sword, And let me hear your faithful steel clash once around my board: I hear it faintly:-Louder yet!-What clogs my heavy breath? Up all, and shout for Rudiger, 'Defiance unto Death!"" Bowl rang to bowl ing cry, steel clang to steel and rose a deafen -- That made the torches flare around, and shook the flags on high: "Ho! cravens, do ye fear him? flown ? Slaves, traitors! have ye Ho! cowards, have ye left me to meet him here alone? "But, I defy him: let him come!" Down rang the massy cup, While from its sheath the ready blade came flashing half way up; And, with the black and heavy plumes scarce trembling on his head, There, in his dark, carved, oaken chair, old Rudiger sat, dead. A. G. GREEN. THE LAST OF THE SARPINTS. "THE serpent, is it?" said Picket, in reply. "Sure, everybody has heard tell of the blessed St. Patrick, and how he druve the sarpints, and all manner of venomous things, out of Ireland how he bothered all the varmint entirely; but for all that, there was one ould sarpint left, who was too cunning to be talked out of the country and made to drown himself. St. Patrick didn't well know how to manage this fellow, who was doing great havoc; till at last he be thought himself, and got a strong iron chest made, with nine boults upon it. "So one fine morning he takes a walk to where the sarpint used to keep; and the sarpint, who didn't like the Saint in the east, - and small blame to him for that, began to hiss and show his teeth at him like anything. Oh,' says St. Patrick, says Je, where's the use of making such a piece of work about a gentleman, like myself, coming to see you?'tis a nice house I have got made for you agin the winter; for I'm going to civ. ilize the whole country, man and beast,' says he, and you can come and look at it whenever you please, and 'tis myself will be glad to see you.' "The sarpint, hearing such smooth words, thought that though St. Patrick had druve all the rest of the sarpints into the sea, he meant no harm to himself; so the sarpint walks fair and easy up to see him and the house he was speaking about. But when the sarpint saw the nine great boults upon the chest, he thought he was sould, and was for making off with himself as fast as he could. ""Tis a nice warm house, you see,' says St. Patrick, 'and 'tis a good friend I am to you.' "I thank you, kindly, St. Patrick, for your civility,' says the sarpint, but I think it's too small it is for me;' meaning it for an excuse; and away he was going. "Too small!" says St. Patrick; stop, if you please,' says he; you're out in that, my boy, anyhow-I am sure 'twill fit you completely; and, I'll tell you what,' says he, I'll bet you á gallon of porter,' says he, that if you'll only try and get in, there'll be plenty of room for you.' "The sarpint was as thirsty as he could be with his walk, and 'twas great joy to him the thoughts of doing St. Patrick out of the gallon of porter; so, swelling himself up as big as he could, he got into the chest, all but a little bit of his tail. 'There, now,' says he, 'I've won the gallon, for you see the house is too small for me, for I can't get in my tail. When, what does St. Patrick do but he comes behind the great heavy lid of the chest, and, putting his two hands to it, down he flaps it with a bang like thunder. When the rogue of a sarpint saw the lid coming down, in went his tail like a shot, for fear of being whipped off him, and St. Patrick began at once to boult the nine iron boults. "Oh, murder! Won't you let me out, St. Patrick?' says the sarpint―'I've lost the bet fairly, and I'll pay you the gallon "Let you out, my darling?' says St. Patrick; 'to be sure I will, by all manner of means; but you see I haven't time now, so you must wait till to-morrow.' "And so he took the iron chest, with the sarpint in it, and pitches it into the lake here, where it is to this hour, for cer ain; and 'tis the sarpint struggling down at the bottom that |