oder a shtep-mudder-out-law. Den she says mit herself, "I efen vish dot I vas dead a little. Now if a Chermans goes dead, dot don't make a pit of tifference. Nopody vould hardly know it, except maype himself. His vife goes mit de peesness on shust like notings has happened to somepody. American vomans und Cherman vomans vas a tifferent kind of peobles. For inshtinct, last year dot same feller, Mr. Brown, goes mit me in te putcher peesness togeder. He vas American man-so vas his vife. Vell, many time vhen efery peobles has got te panic pooty bad, dot vomans comes to her huspant und says she moost have money. Den she goes out riding mit a carriages. Vonce on a time, Brown says to me, "Bender, I vouldn't be henshpecked." So he vent off und got himself tightshust pecause his vife tells him, blease don't do dot. Den he sits down on his pack mit de floor, und if I am not dere dot time he nefer vould got home. Vell, dot night, me und my vife, ve had a little talk apout sometings; und de next tay I says to Brown, "Look here vonst! My vife she makes sausages, und vorks in dot shtore; also my taughter she vorks py de shtore und makes headskeeses; und your vife vos going out riding all de times mit de horses-car, und a patent-tied-pack-cardinal shtriped shtockings. Now, your vife moost go vork in de shtore und cut peefsteaks, und make saurkraut, or else ve divide not equally any more dot profits." Vell, Brown goes home und he tells his vife apout dot. Den she comes pooty quick mit Brown around, und ve had a misundershtanding apout sometings, in which eferypody took a part, including my leetle dog Kaiser. Pooty soon up comes a policesmans und arrests us for breeches of promise to keep de pieces, und assaulting de battery, or sometings. Den de firm of Bender & Brown vas proke up. I go apout my peesness, und Brown goes mit his peesness. My vife she helps in de shtore. His vife goes riding mit de horses-car, und efery night she vas py de theater. Vot's de gonsequences? Along comes dot Centennial panic. Dot knocks Brown more higher as two kites, py Chimminy! My income vas shtill more as my outcome. But Brown he goes 'round dot shtreets mit his hands out of his pockets, und he don't got a cent to his back. VON BOYLE, PROGRAMME NO. 4. MARC ANTONY'S ADDRESS TO THE ROMANS. Friends, Romans, countrymen! lend me your ears; I come to bury Cæsar, not to praise him. The evil that men do lives after them; The good is oft interred with their bones: So let it be with Cæsar. The noble Brutus Hath told you, Cæsar was ambitious; If it were so, it was a grievous fault, So are they all, all honorable men,- He was my friend, faithful and just to me : But Brutus says he was ambitious, And Brutus is an honorable man. He hath brought many captives home to Rome, Did this in Cæsar seem ambitious? When that the poor have cried, Cæsar hath wept ; Yet Brutus says he was ambitious, And Brutus is an honorable man. You all did see, that, at the Lupercal, I thrice presented him a kingly crown, Which he did thrice refuse. Was this ambition? Yet Brutus says he was ambitious, And, sure, he is an honorable man. I speak not to disprove what Brutus spoke, But here I am to speak what I do know, You all did love him once, not without cause: What cause withholds you then to mourn for him? O judgment, thou art fled to brutish beasts, And men have lost their reason! - Bear with me; But yesterday the word of Cæsar might Your hearts and minds to mutiny and rage, And, dying, mention it within their wills, Unto their issue. If you have tears, prepare to shed them now. 'Twas on a summer's evening, in his tent ; Look! In this place ran Cassius' dagger through ; Through this, the well-beloved Brutus stabbed, For when the noble Cæsar saw him stab, Ingratitude, more strong than traitors' arms, Even at the base of Pompey's statue, Which all the while ran blood, great Cæsar fell. Good friends, sweet friends, let me not stir you up They that have done this deed are honorable! I come not, friends, to steal away your hearts; I am no orator, as Brutus is; But as you all do know, a plain, blunt man, That loves my friend; and that they know full well For I have neither wit, nor words, nor worth, I only speak right on; I tell you that which you yourselves do know; Show you sweet Cæsar's wounds, poor, poor dumb mouths, And Brutus Antony, there were an Antony SHAKSPEARE. |