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The Diverting History of John Gilpin.

"So, fair and softly," John he cried,

But John he cried in vain,
That trot became a gallop soon,
In spite of curb and rein.

So stooping down as needs he must
Who cannot sit upright,

He grasped the mane with both his hands,
And eke with all his might.

His horse, who never in that sort
Had handled been before,

What thing upon his back had got
Did wonder more and more.

Away went Gilpin, neck or nought,
Away went hat and wig,

He little dreamt when he set out,
Of running such a rig.

The dogs dil bark, the children scream'd,
Up flew the windows all,

And every soul cried out "Well done!"
As loud as he could bawl.

Away went Gilpin-who but he!
His fame soon spread around,—
"He carries weight! he rides a race!
'Tis for a thousand pound!"

And still as fast as he drew near,
'Twas wonderful to view
How in a trice the turnpike men
Their gates wide open flew.

At Edmonton his loving wife
From the balcony spied

Her tender husband, wondering much

To see how he did ride.

"Stop, stop, John Gilpin !-Here's the house!"

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They all at once did cry;

The dinner waits, and we are tired;"

Said Gilpin "So am I !"

But yet his horse was not a whit

Inclined to tarry there;

For why ?-his owner had a house
Full ten miles off, at Ware.

The Diverting History of John Gilpin. 99

The calender, amazed to see

His neighbour in such trim,

Laid down his pipe, flew to the gate,
And thus accosted him:

"What news? what news?-Your tidings tell!
Tell me you must and shall:
Say why bare-headed you are come?

Or why you come at all?"

Now Gilpin had a pleasant wit,
And loved a timely joke,
And thus unto the calender,
In merry guise, he spoke :

"I come because your horse would come;
And, if I well forebode,

My hat and wig will soon be here-
They are upon the road."

The calender right glad to find
His friend in merry pin,
Returned him not a single word,

But to the house went in;

Whence straight he came with hat and wig-
A wig that flowed behind;

A hat not much the worse for wear-
Each comely in its kind.

Then turning to his horse, John said,
"I am in haste to dine;

'Twas for your pleasure you came here;
You shall go back for mine."

Ah, luckless speech, and bootless boast!
For which he paid full dear;

For while he spake a braying ass
Did sing most loud and clear;

Whereat his horse did snort as he
Had heard a lion roar,

And galloped off with all his might,
As he had done before.

Away went Gilpin, and away

Went Gilpin's hat and wig:

He lost them sooner than at first-
For why they were too big.

100 The Diverting History of John Gilpin.

Now Mistress Gilpin, when she saw
Her husband posting down
Into the country far away,

She pulled out half-a-crown;

And then unto the youth she said,
That drove them to the Bell,
"This shall be yours when you bring back
My husband safe and well.”

The youth did ride, and soon did meet
John coming back again,
Whom in a trice he tried to stop,
By catching at his rein;

But not performing what he meant,
And gladly would have done,
The frighted steed he frighted more,
And made him faster run.

Away went Gilpin, and away
Went postboy at his heels;

The postboy's horse right glad to miss
The lumbering of the wheels.

Six gentlemen upon the road,
Thus seeing Gilpin fly,

With postboy scampering in the rear,
They raised the hue and cry:

"Stop thief! stop thief!-a highwayman!

Not one of them was mute,

And all and each that passed that way

Did join in the pursuit.

And now the turnpike gates again

Flew open in short space,

The tollman thinking, as before,

That Gilpin rode a race.

And so he did, and won it too;
For he got first to town,

Nor stopped till where he had got up
He did again get down.

Now let us sing "Long live the king,"
And Gilpin long live he,

And when he next doth ride abroad
May I be there to see.

IN

The Two Rivers.

THE WAY OF THE WORLD.

ΑΝ

N old farm house with meadows wide,
And sweet with clover on each side;
A bright-eyed boy, who looks from out
The door with woodbine wreathed about,
And wishes his one thought all day-
"Oh! if I could but fly away

From this dull spot, the world to see,
How happy, happy, happy,

How happy I should be!"

Amid the city's constant din,

A man who round the world has been,
Who, 'mid the tumult and the throng,
Is thinking all day long-

"Oh! could I only tread once more
The field path to the farm house door,
The old green meadow could I see,
How happy, happy, happy,
How happy I should be?"

THE TWO RIVERS:

101

THE RIVER OF LIFE AND THE RIVER OF DEATH,

MRS. NOEL-THATCHER.

N Nature's young morning, the Creator caused a river to flow in the first home. Out of that river came every winged fowl that flies in the midst of heaven, beside the innumerable multitude of living creatures, great and small, that throng the rivers and the seas. The waters teem with life, and play an active part in producing the fertility of our earth. The absence of water makes the barren desert: no creature ean sustain life without it; and not only animal, but vegetable life would inevitably fail, could it possibly be deprived of water.

But ere long a dull, dark, river arose the River of Death! It has laved every city of civilization the world over, and wherever its pestilential waters come, there is disease and misery. It rose as a tiny stream, and one godly man unwisely drank of it, and it wrought woe to him and his !

On the river rolled, widening in its course. It spread and

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became a broad current in the land of Palestine. Princes drank of it-and "stretched out their hands with scorners." Prophets quaffed-and they "erred in vision and stumbled in judgment." Priests sipped from that dark river-and "offered strange fire before the Lord." Judges drank-and "perverted judgment." Kings met together for conquest-and were found drinking themselves drunk" by quaffing of this River of Death!

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And still it flows, and still men drink, and women, of this poisonous river. I see the aged man stooping to drink, and as he bows toward the enchanted stream, some mocking demon pushes him and he is gone! I see the merry bridal party. Loving friends are uttering fervent wishes for lengthened days, and joys as lengthened as their days, to crown the life of bride and bridegroom. Glasses are filled-filled from the River of Death!-and they drink to the health of the pair who stand on the threshold of wedded life and one from that hour shall cherish a love to the waters of that River of Death! He shall quaff again and again, until the home is filled with wretchedness, and wedded comfort is for ever fled. There shall be little ones mercifully cut off in helpless infancy, and the tomb shall close upon a disappointed, broken-hearted wife. Death springs from the River of Death!

Men partake, and lose all noble aspirations, all manly feelings; women drink, and become unsexed and impure, and they wander through the streets of the cities and seek-and seek successfully, alas!-to turn others from the right way; and little children learn to quaff of the River of Death, till sixty thousand immortals every year slip into the river and are borne on its black sluggish waters over the precipice that separates the seen and unseen! We see them disappear, and Fancy, affrighted, almost catches the echo of their groans as they topple over into the dark, fathomless abyss.

And still the river flows on as if it were a River of Life, and wherever the Gospel and Civilization go, the River of Death is found sending its rivulets there! and whilst one shall quaff

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