You must linger, as I linger, in the shadow of each nook; Would you see her as I see her, you must be where I have been, Where the oak-tree, and the elm-tree, and the You must listen, as I listen, to the prattle of the beechen tree are seen; brook; Where the bright and silvery poplars in their You must woo her, as I woo her, with a bosom full leafy beauty shine, of love, And the bees are quaffing deeply from their And the maid will stand before you like a vision chalices of wine. from above. MRS. BROWN ON THE ARMY.* [The gentleman who, under the name of Arthur Sketchley, has made Mrs. Brown a "woman of the times," has republished his contributions to Fun in a collected form as "The Brown Papers," from which the following article is extracted.} BROWN," I says, "I'm a-goin' to a review, tho';" I says, "what-ever is the use of all them soldiers, I should like to know, 'cept for the look of the thing, as certainly is imposing, tho' red ain't a colour as suits me." So Brown he says, "You don't know nothing about it, however should you?" 66 So we was talking friendly, thro' her being one as was experienced, and like my own constitution, and known sorrers in having buried her good gentleman, as was in the white-lead line, a thing as is deleterious, and will lurk in the constitution, and brought on fits, thro' which he was took sudden; not as he was one for to regret, for she told as his habits was bad and temper violent, and sho says to me, Forgive and forget, tho," she says, Well, then," says Brown, "why ever do you go "I shall carry that man's marks to me grave; to see them? and was that pleasant company as I was sorry when she got out in Holborn, thro' her daughter a-livin' in Bloomsbury. I says, "Don't I? Why," I says, my dear mother washed two rigiments as was quartered near Honnslow." 66 I says, "Do you think, Mr. Brown, as I'm goin' to allow a daughter of mine, tho' married, to go to sich a sight alone where a mother is a protection; not as I expects no enjoyment; and as to her aluggin' that boy all the way, it's madness downright, that it is." 'Why," says Brown," she lives close by, so it aint nothin' for her; but as to your a-goin', it's foolishness." "Well,” I says, "I never see such a man as you are. When I don't know things, full of your ridicule; and when I wants to see them with my own eyes, always the one to hold back. But," I says, "go I do, thro' having promised Jane as I'd be there early to meet her at the Marble Arch, as the Edgware Road is a long distance." So I started with Brown, as see me into the Whitechapel Road, where the 'busses runs regular, and ketched the fust, as rattled that dreadful, thro' bein' empty, as seemed to jar my head to death. Not as I held with that conductor's remarks as hollared to the coachman when he helped in a party in widow's weeds as was certainly lusty, "Go on, Joe, here's more ballast," as is insults to a lady, as she certainly was, tho' she'd that hurried as I thought she never would get her breath again, and was obliged for to take her drops, as was in a little basket, as she said went agin her, tho' a great sufferer aperiently, as told me she was a-goin' to her daughter, as wouldn't be pacified till she got there, "Tho'," she says, "it's as much as my life's worth, thro' having done, as I seldom or never does, put my feet in hot water, with James' powders, as acts on the skin, a medicine as I don't hold with." " I says, "Conductor," I says, a-hittin' him with my umbrella, "put me down at the Marble Arch, as is somewhere beyond Charing Cross." So he says, Whatever do you mean by stoppin' the 'bus for that?" and bangs the door that violent as set the horses off, and if they didn't gallop like mad, and frightened the horses in another 'bus, as begun a-gallopin' too. A old gentleman in the 'bus hollared at him, and says, "Let me out, I'm not goin' to endanger my life." "Nor more aint I," says I. "Come out then," says the conductor. "Where's your money I gives him a shillin', and if he didn't give me eightpence change in coppers, as I dropped in the middle of the road, where he left me a-standin', with cabs and 'busses all about a-shouting to me, as was stoopin' to pick up the money, as I only recovered three-halfpence, tho' I must say as many parties was very polite a-troubling themselves to look for it; not as I thought as kicking about the mud was a good plan, as all scuttled away pretty quick thro' a policeman a-comin' up as led me by the arm on the pavement. So I says, "Is this the Marble Arch?" "No," says he, "the Pantheon; but," he says, "it aint much further if you keeps on the shady side." Bless the man! he's got nice ideas about far, he has, for it was nearly eleven when I got to the Marble Arch, where Jane was a-waitin' with her eldest, as isn't quite three, and the babby. She says, "Why, mother, how hot you look; you • By kind permission of the Author. MRS. BROWN ON THE ARMY. must want a something, musn't she, Mrs. Woolley," as was with her, a woman as I can't a-bear, bein' one as is all fair to your face and knives and lancets behind your back. So she says, "Mrs. Brown, do take a something, as is only across the road, as is easy to get at, thro' lampposts put up for to protect you agin them 'busses as comes round you on all sides, let alone other public conveniences, as is bein' drove in ev'ry direction, and carriages by the million." If it hadn't been as I was that faint, thro' the day bein' that swelterin', I would not a-took nothin', for I know'd that Mrs. Woolley's deceitful ways, as it was one word for me and half a dozen for herself, as know'd her tricks, thro' having watched her narrow when nursin' of Jane, as never held with her ways with that child, and I'm sure could sleep thro' its screams, a-sayin' as it was temper, whereas I found the pin myself, as is a woman as would swear black is white, a-daring to say as it had dropped off of me on to the infant. I'm sure I was that terrified a-gettin' across that road and back that what I did take didn't seem to do me no good, and throwed me into that heat as I thought I never could have bore myself, tho' I had a musling gown with a barege shawl as was that flimsy as I didn't seem half-clothed, thro' it being what I calls a breezy day with dust in that park a-comin' up in clouds, and the sight of people as there wasn't no seeing thro'. Well, there was parties as had brought forms to stand on as would throw you over people's heads, tho' I was doubtful myself, for they was that rickety as I should not like to have trusted to; but one young man he was a-tryin' it on, and says to me, "Here you, mum! why, it's strong enough for a elephant," and idjots as was standin' by grinned. So I walks on till we comes to a plank as was supported on barrels, as the party as owned it jumped on for to prove it strong, and his good lady says as they wasn't in that line, but only come out for to see it theirselves, as is a field day well worth the money, as was threepence each, and agreed to hold Sammy up. 66 Just then come a nice old gentleman as was stout and cheerful, as says he'd try it, and up he gets, and advises me, as was hesitating, when them parties as it belonged to hoisted me up unawares. Certainly it was a grand sight to see them troops as moved like machines a-jumping up and turning round, as is their manoeuvring ways. So the people says, 'Here's the Duke." I says, "What Duke? Why," I says, "he's dead." "No," says the old gentleman as was standin' up by me. "Well," I says, "I see his funeral, that's all I know, and remember hearin' of the battle well, as there was a deal o' talking about when I was a very young gal, where his leg was shot off thro' Shaw the Lifeguardsman, as was massacreed by the Prussians 66 75 a-comin' up' in the moment of victory." He says a-laughin', "It's the Duke of Cambridge.” I says, Really. I've heard tell of Cambridge very often, but never heerd as it was a Duke." And if he didn't bust out laughing like mad. Well, the sun was a-beatin' down on my head, and I was lookin' at them soldiers, as must be dreadful in battle. I says, "There aint no fear of their firin' on us unprovoked, I suppose;" for I've heerd tell of such things, and spent balls aint no joke, as has been death to thousands, for I never shall forget our Joe a-ketching me accidental between the shoulders with a ball as he was playin' rounders with, so can easy fancy what lead must be. Well, Jane she'd got down, so had Mrs. Woolley, thro' the infant bein' fractious, and just then the soldiers let fly all of a sudden simultanous with that banging and smoke in clouds as it give me that sudden start as I throwed back my arms violent with a scream as made every one look round, and I ketches that poor old gentleman as was next me sudden in the pit of his stomach accidental with my elber as made him start back that forcible as upset the plank as we was a-standin' on, and away I went backwards, and should have been killed if the old gentleman, being under me, hadn't broke my fall, as didn't take it in good part, tho' whatever parties could see to laugh at I can't think. I says, "Don't stand there a-grinnin', but lend me a hand up some on you," as they did at last, tho' the old gentleman was most hurt, not as he fell far, and said it was my weight as had nearly stifled him, as brought on words thro' Mrs. Woolley a-remarkin' as she should think so, as is a reg'lar mask of skin and bones. So I says, "It's luck as it wasn't you as fell on him, for you'd a cut him to bits like a iron hurdle." As I heard her with my own ears call me a "swelterin' porpus." So I says, "Jane," I says, "if that female is a-goin' home with you, I knows myself too well for to put it in her power to insult me under my own daughter's roof." So I says, “I should prefer the omnibus, as will set me down within five minutes." So I says, Let's part friends." So for all as she could say I would go. thro' her a-sayin' as she could shut her door agin that party as had walked in from Ealing, as I should not have wished, tho' in my opinion a lowlived woman, as I could tell through her conversations in that crowd as made a deal too free for me. As to them soldiers, it's all rubbish and waste of powder and ball, as will end bad some day thro' them firin' that promiscous at parties as is astandin' armless, tho' Brown will have it as it was only powder as they fired, tho' I knows better, for I could hear the balls as must have knocked me over, and a mercy it was no wus. ALEXANDER'S FEAST; OR, THE POWER OF MUSIC. AN ODE ON ST. CECILIA'S DAY. [JOHN DRYDEN, born at Oldwinckle, Northamptonshire, August, 1631. Educated at Westminster and Trinity College, Cambridge. Made Laureate. Died May 1, 1700.] "TWAS at the royal feast, for Persia won, By Philip's warlike son; Aloft in awful state The god-like hero sat On his imperial throne: His valiant peers were placed around Their brows with roses and with myrtle bound: So should deşert in arms be crowned. The lovely Thais by his side Sat, like a blooming eastern bride, None but the brave, None but the brave, None but the brave deserves the fair. Timotheus, placed on high Amid the tuneful choir, With flying fingers touched the lyre: The song began from Jove, A dragon's fiery form belied the god: When he to fair Olympia pressed, And stamp'd an image of himself, a sov'reign of the world. The listening crowd admire the lofty sound: "A present deity!" they shout around; "A present deity!" the vaulted roofs rebound. With ravished ears The monarch hears, Assumes the god, Affects to nod, And seems to shake the spheres. The praise of Bacchus then the sweet musician sung; Of Bacchus ever fair, and ever young: He shows his honest face. Now give the hautboys breath; he comes! he comes! Bacchus, ever fair and young, Drinking joys did first ordain; Bacchus' blessings are a treasure, Drinking is the soldier's pleasure; Rich the treasure, Sweet the pleasure; Sweet is pleasure after pain. Soothed with the sound, the king grew vain; Fought all his battles o'er again; And thrice he routed all his foes, and thrice he slew the slain. The master saw the madness rise; Soft pity to infuse; He sung Darius, great and good, Fall'n, fall'n, fall'n, fall'n, With downcast look the joyless victor sate, The various turns of fate below; The mighty master smiled to see Never ending, still beginning, If the world be worth thy winning, Take the good the gods provide thee. Gazed on the fair Who caused his care, And sighed and looked, sighed and looked, At length, with love and wine at once oppressed, Now strike the golden lyre again; A louder yet, and yet a louder strain. And rouse him, like a rattling peal of thunder. Has raised up his head, As awaked from the dead, And amazed he stares around. Timotheus to his breathing flute While organs yet were mute, And sounding lyre Could swell the soul to rage, or kindle soft desire. At last divine Cecilia came, The sweet enthusiast, from her sacred store, Enlarged the former narrow bounds, Let old Timotheus yield the prize, He raised a mortal to the skies, THE BRIEFLESS BARRISTER. [Mr. JOHN G. SAXE, an American poet, very popular among his fellow-countrymen.] N attorney was taking a turn, In shabby habiliments drest; His coat it was shockingly worn, And the rust had invested his vest; His breeches had suffered a ront, His linen and worsted were worse, He had scarce a whole crown in his hat, And not half-a-crown in his purse; And thus as he wandered along, A cheerless and comfortless elf, I've never a client but grief; And in brief, I have never a brief! "I've waited, and waited in vain, Expecting an opening to find, Where an honest young lawyer might gain Some reward for the toil of his mind. ""Tis not that I'm wanting in law, Or lack an intelligent face, That others have cases to plead, While I have to plead for a case! Of lawyers so full of profession!" And he sighed to himself, "It is well!" To curb his emotion he sat On the kerb-store the space of a minute; Then cried, "Here's an opening at last!" And in less than a jiffy was in it. Next morning twelve citizens came ("Twas the coroner bade them attend), To the end that it might be determined How the man had determined his end. "The man was a lawyer, I hear!" Quoth the foreman who sat on the corse; "A lawyer? alas!" said another, 66 He undoubtedly died of remorse." A third said "He knew the deceased, And as to the cause of his death, The jury decided at length, After solemnly weighing the matter, "That the lawyer was drowned because He could not keep his head above water." THE CITY AND COUNTRY MOUSE. ONCE on a time (so runs the fable) He brought him bacon (nothing lean): |