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’•I*
F03TEY.
‘ FROM THE BRITISH MINSTRELSY.
Oli * there is a dream of early youth,
And it never comes a train ;
’Tis a vision of light, of life and truth,
That flits across the brain :
And love is the theme of that early dream,
So wild, so warm, so "new,
That in all our after years I deem
That early dream we rue.
Oh! there is a dream of maturer years,
More turbulent by far;
’T is a vision of blood, and of woman’s tears,
For the theme of that dream is war:
And we toil in the field of danger and death,
And shout in the battle array,
Till we find tint fame is a bodyless breath,
That var’-'hetb away.
Oh! t!j.:re is a dream of hoary age,
’T‘ iJfc‘'ion of gold in store—
d down on the figured page,
i d o’er and o’er;
trust in our glittering dust,
r 'in ttrief and pain,
e laid on that last dark bed,
•ilth of the world is vain.
to his grave—
e treading ?
. career to save
i upbraiding?
0 i-iiin so pure, so bright,
g to whom it is given,
Ha n a sea of living light,
A acme of that dream is Heaven.
THE FLOATING BF.ACON.
Wr., :i~t thou thus, thou lonely bark,
'll r last on the darkling sen ?
W hrt thy sails to the night wind spread,
- J why shines that light on thee ?
Why'a-thou here, thou lonely bark,
YVheitoe other ships are gone?
I tkegicd|hce away with those to-day;
But stiXthou art sailing alone.
There car«- a voice from the lonely bark,
<Ar mini-own thoughts answered to me :
‘ Spread l,'mv sail to the midnight gale,
And ir light shines lone on the sea;
‘ For myXatch is by the shoal and the sand,
And th’rock that is hidden by night,
And man*a mariner keels a’
And bless? the beacon Ijgi/,.
1 Is not my 1 ht like that holier light,
That heavi sh ’ds over life’s path,
Thought not !>•>. ■ 2 ed not, in stillness and shine,
Bui welco:f| in darkness and wrath P
FROM
We request
with those c
the femali
poetry “
‘’TT*
TE.
following
<plirnents to
that so much
A t .:>> .-*li^ r;i-
T UienJntke JUbnm ^ ^ Unknown tady
Lady, although we have not met, - • *
' *A«u maynot meet,'beneath the-sky; ~
A&f whether thine eyes are 'eyes of jet*..
Grey, or dark blue, or violet,
Or hazel—heaven knows, not I;
Whether around thy cheek of rose
A maiden’s glowing locks arc curled,
And to Some thousand lulling bonny,
Tliv frown is cold as winter’s snows,
Thy smile is worth a world ;
Or whether, past youth’s joyous strife,
The calm of thought is on thy brow,
And thou art in thy noon oflife,
Loving, and loved, a happy wife,
And happier mother now,
I know*r.ot—but, whate’er thou art,—
Whoe’er thou art, were mine the spell
To tall Fate’s joys, or blunt his dart,
There should not be one hand or heart
B^t seived or wish’d thee well.
For thou art Woman—with that word
Life’s dearest hopes and memories come,
Truth, beauty, love—in her adored,
And earth’s Io6t Varadise restored
In the green bower of home.
What is man’s love ? His vows arc broke
Even while his parting kiss is warm.—
But woman’s love all change wilj mock
And, like the ivy round tnc oak,
Cling closer in the storm.
THOUGHTS ON DOMESTIC
EDUCATION;
The Result of Experience. By a Mother;
Author of a Always Happy,” “ Hints op
the Sources of Happiness.”
This pleasing and able writer, whose in
variable object it appears to be to render her
talents and knowledge serviceable to the
community, and whose works we have from
time to time noticed with the approbation
which they have richly deserved,*” has here
produced a volume replete with excellent
hints to mothers whose opportunities enable
them to save their daughters from the evils
to which they are too often exposed in
schools, and to bring them up under that
superintendance which, generally speaking,
is the best calculated to render them useful
and amiable members of society. What
renders the suggestions which the work
contains the more valuable, is that they are
the result of long experience. “ The au
thor,” says the preface, 44 once asked the
father of a numerous family, if he had read
the admirable publications of Miss Hamilton
and Miss Edgeworth on Education? He
dryly answered, * I would read them, were
they the compositions of a Mrs. Hamilton
and a Mrs. Edgeworth.’ As he was a man
of sound judgment' and considerable ex
perience, his remark made a deep impres
sion and first elicited the idea of a maternal
work on the subject. The author immedi
ately commenced her memoranda of all she
tried and all she effected. The following
pages are the v result of twenty years’ ex
perience in a family of six children, three
sons and three daughters.” T'
'The mere enumeration of the sectioifeihto
which the volume is divided will show how
important are the subjects considered.
They are :preliminary Remarks; Reading;
Writing; Arithmetic; Dancing; Music ;
Drawing and Painting; Grammar; Geo
graphy; Languages—Latin, French, Ita
lian ; Housewifery; Coyrse of Education-
Books; Plan for Juvenile Diary; Scheme
for.the Distribution of Time; French Books
for children; Italian Books for Youth;
English Books for Youth; Self-Tuition;
Arrangement of Time; Apparent Inaction ;
Mental Recreation ; Virtue, the only Means
of Happiness ; on Arguing ; on Silence ; on
Associates and Friends; on Study; on
Benevolence; on “Virtue its own Reward
on Ignorance; on Positiveness; on Female
Inaccuracy; on the Value of Money; on
the Value of Time; on Modes of Concilia
tion ; on Patience in Sickness; on Charity;
on Truth. We will extract passages from
two or three of these sections. The origi
nality of the manner in ivhich the different
topics are treated is as striking as its bene
ficial tendency.
Dancin''.— 44 It is difficult for rational
observers to consider dancing in any other
light than as an amusement; yet great pains
seems to be taken to render it a study de
manding much close and serious attention.
Healthy children, accustomed to enjoy the
free use of their limbs in the open air, will
want little tuition to become good dancers—
will not need collars, stocks, remonstrances,
and reproofs, to teach them to hold up their
heads and turn out their toss. By running,
jumping, skipping in gardens and fields,
moving their feet and their hands without
restraint, and looking freely about them up
to trees and stars, and around to flowers
and play-fellows, they will too often stretch
the sinews of their legs, and bend the joints
of their ancles, and draw up their necks and
heads, to run the risk of moving heavily or
clumsily, and of carrying themselves un
gracefully. As, however, in civilized coun
tries, certain movements constitute the grace
and C^egance of dancing, children had bet
ter lx cKtrly taught the most common steps
in vogue. A twelvemonth of tuition, say
from seven to eight, will suffice to give the
prompt little pupils a good notion of time
and regulated motion. After that they may
so on dancing to their mother’s piano-forte,
whenever she pleases to indulge them with
a country dance or Scotch reel, and be as
merry apd as graceful as they please. At
twelve or fourteen years of age, another
year or two of tuition may fit them to join in
the dances then in vogue. As the fashion
is continually changing, this instruction to
the girl just budding into the young woman
may be usefnl and agreeable. But if
dancing has one pre-eminent charm, it is
the charm of artlessness. Can this charm
exist if the dancer’s thoughts are absorbed
in the desire of self-exhibition? No ; then
let not self-exhibition for one instant creep
into the mind of the young dancer. By
conversation, by example, by every possible
medium, inculcate that we dance to amuse
ourselves, not to exhibit ourselves. Do
not even let us praise a child, without re
membering this aim. Let us not say, ‘ You
dance prettily:’ let us say,‘‘You dance
very merrily.’ Let not the fond mother ex
claim, ‘ Come, let me see you dance but,
4 Come, will you hare a dance?’ ”
Apparent Inaction.—“That idleness is
an enemy to virtue and happiness, we can
all feelingly allow; but it is not therefore
certain that all occupations are friendly to
virtue and happiness. Without, of course,
alluding to any form of vicious occupation,
there are many frivolous ones that are more
pernicious than a state of perfect inaction.
We should not, therefore, be too earnest to
fill up every moment of the busy day; let a
certain portion be steadily devoted to im
provement and usefulness, but let interven
ing half hours of repose, and moments of
reflection, pass as periods also favourable to
mental expansion. If, when engages# ib
reading or needle-work, or any other em
ployment, the young pupil pauses, and seems
absorbed in contemplation’, let not the in
tellectual abstraction be disturbed; perhaps
some Ingenious inquiry is engaging the ex
panding thoughts* Tho questions which
often follow such a pause prove that the
mind has not been idle, that it has on the
contrary, been eliciting truth, or pursuing
inquiry. How much better that such intel
lectual labour should finish its wholesome
course, and that the mind should not be pre
maturely called away from its healthy work
ings. No forced exertion can bhar any com
parison with such free thinkings. It is not
difficult to discover, by the glance of the
eye and the play of the features, when the
pause proceeds from mental reflection: a
countenance thus impressed bears a very
different expression from one marked by
vacuity of thought or the lnnguour of indo
lence. More than moments may be allowed
to be thus spent. A little girl of eight years
old has been discovered alone, stretched
before an open window, apparently in a. state
of utter listlessness ; yet, when asked why
she remained there so long inactive—‘I
have been watching,’ she replied, * the sun
setting behind those beautiful gold and pur
ple clouds.
On Associates and Friends.—-“By kind
ness,'frankness, and forbearance, a mother
can obtain the confidence of her children,
and gradually and impercetibly become the
trusted friend. Had girls no other, from
fourteen to twenty, the fate of many of them
would wear a more smiling aspect than it
too often does, when youthful confidantes
share the heart and fancy. Intimates and
social companions may be selected for them,
in as great a number as the mother can
judiciously v encourage. Perhaps, by having
numerous associates, the risk of forming a
sickly sentimental friendship is avoided
Mystery and secrecy cannot subsist among
numbers, and mystery and secrecy are the
corner stones of sentimental cAiqnexions.
By enlarged communion, more iLveoflf feel
ings am induced, an^ the glow ojf affection,
so natural and so delightful in youth, runs
no hazard of being chilled by being diffused.
Surely the more we mingle with our fellow-
Creatures, the more warm and kindly are
our feelings. The “system of confidential
letter-writing is* perhaps, the most perni
cious
low
'' *•
a young lady can al-
nd of her own age.
The length and frequency of these epistles
form their principal charm and chief. They
are not written because there is something
to be said, hut something must be said be
cause they are to be written. In youth the
imagination is the most busy of our facul-
prudent for him t<v leave the parts, and the
Penns providedsfor his safety by giving him
a tract of land near Frenchtown, in New
Jersey, whither he removed ; and there the
earthly career of Taltamy Tandy was clo
sed.—Penn. Ar<*us.
From Memoirs of the late R. L. Edge-
ties, and furnishes the principal supply for ieorth Esq.—Sir Francis Blake Delaval had
these missives. Girls of ordinary character
fill the page with idle gossipings; and, as
life seldom yields sufficient variety of anec
dote and character for these indiscrimi-
nating observers, fancy is called in aid, and
facts are mingled with fictions, 4 after what
flourish their nature will.’ Hence the mis
chiefs of false representation and petty
scandal are propagated and prolonged ; and
the mind, tainted in its prinie, loses its deli
cate distinction of truth and falsehood.
With girls of superior talent, the imagina
tion is equally hurtfil, though in a different
way ; for these, soaring above the incidents
and personages of leal life, indulge them
selves in all the hyperbole of romance, the
refinements, and the wild and deluding vi
sions of irrational hope. With such as
these every tiling is exquisite or detestable,
loved or hated, lauded to the skies'or tram
pled to the earth, a medium is unknown, for
the very word moderation is expunged from
their vocabulary. The mischiefs arising
from such mental dereliction can be easily
imagined, though not easily calculated;
rather than risk so fearful a hazard, a young
lady had better never write a letter during
her minority. To think a little wildly and
fantastically is natural to youth ; but as
thoughts perish, the evil is as a summer
cloud, slight and fugitive. But when these
idle fancies are committed to paper, a sort
of permanency is given to them, and a feel-
of pride is generated on re-perusing the
high-sounding period; added to which,
thoughts are brief and changeable ; a vision
of fancy may be succeeded by a reflection
of good sense : but in writing, the fugitive
fancies are fixed and dilated, and pursued,
so that, out of one passing folly, many
branch forth ; truth and common sense are
put aside; and the taste for romance is
cherished, and the distaste for reason is aug
mented.” -
Reminiscence.—The Time is not far dis
tant, when every trace to the history of the
tribes that inhabited the forks of the Maker-
ist Keskon,* will be obliterated. The rem-
brance of those days will be entombed with
the few hoary-headed chroniclers who are
yet permitted to sojourn here.—In after
ages, little will those who stroll along the
Banks of the Lehigh, think of the light ca
noe of the Indian warrior, that once glided
on its placid bosom ; of the terrific war-
whoop that resounded along its shores ; or
when viewing from our hills the magnifi
cent prospects they afford, their thoughts
will* .scarcely racar to too tiyie, when all be*
low was one forest, above which the smoke
of the council fires curled, and stained the
evening sky. Yet a century has scarcely
elapsed, since this was the domain of a peo
ple now extinct— 44 all gone to the land
where their fathers have gone.”
The Mohicans were so enamoured of
this tract of country, that the most liberal of
fers could not prevail on them to dispose of
it. When the whites found they could not
succeed by fair means, they resorted to foul
and eventually dispossessed them of it, in a
manner that reflects no little discredit on all
who had any participation in the transaction.
From the five nations, who had not the re
motest shadow of right to any lands along
the Delaware, a conveyance was obtained
for a tract of country embracing this within
its boundaries. All attempts to settle it,
however, were promptly resisted by the
rightful owners. Treaties were then held,
at which every art was essayed to entice
them to confirm this conveyance, but all was
of no avail. At length the* famous walking
purchase was concluded on, and the persons
selected for this purpose were the most no
ted pedestrians in the country. Instead of
following the sinuosities of the Delaware,
according to the intention of the Indians, the
walkers were instructed to take \ a direct
course across the country, by which means,
one of them succeeded in reaching‘a place
called Still Watfer, about 30 miles beyond
the Blue Ridge.
The Indians, finding they had been de
ceived, were highly dissatisfied, and resol
ved to maintain their possession by force
of arms ; but being threatened by the whites
on the one side, and the powerful and war
like tribes that composed the Five Nations
on the other, they were compelled to relin
quish the Land of Blue Hills, and turn their
hacks to the graves of their ancestors. When
they set off on their pilgrimage towards the
setting of the sun, one of their warriors was
observed to linger behind. His affections
clung so firmly to the land of his nativity,
that he found it impossible to follow. The
proprietaries, operated upon, in all proba
bility, by a sense of the wrongs they had
done his tribe, gave him a tract of land,
which included within its limits the farm on
which George Steelier now resides, and there
he erected his wigwarm. Many summers
passed away, and he might be seen stealing
along the banks of the Lehicton, or seated
at the door of his wigwam, humming the
wild war-songs of his ancestors. He ma : n-
tained scarcely any intercourse with the'
whites, 1 and devoted his time , principally to
hunting and to fishing. The idea, that when
the Great Spirit took him from hence, his
bones would rest where his infancy was
reared, afforded him much pleasure; but
even this consolation was denied him.
Hostilities soon began between the hostile
Indians and the whites, when it was deemed
contrived to represent the borough of An
dover in several Parliaments, by practising
a series of tricks on his constituents ; but
at length he sustained a reverse of fortune,
and his electioneering success terminated.
His attorney’s bill was yet to be dischar
ged. It had been running on for many
years, and though large sums had been paid
on account, a prodigious balance still re
mained to be adjusted. The affair came
before the king’s bench. Among a variety of
exorbitant and monstrous charges, there ap
peared the following article :
To being thrown out of the window at
the George Inn, Andover—to my leg being
thereby broken—to surgeon’s bill, and loss
of time and business—all in the serviceof
Sir F. B. Delaval—500/.”
When - this curious item came to be ex
plained, it appeared that the attorney had,
by way of promoting Sir Francis’ interest in
the borough, sent cards of invitation to the
officers of a regiment in the town, in the
name of the mayor and corporation, inviting
them todine & drink his Majesty’s health on
his birth-day. He, at the same time, wrote
a similar invitation to the mayor and corpor
ation, in the name of the officers of the re
giment. The two parties met, complimen
ted each other, eat a good dinner, drank a
hearty bottle of wine to his majesty’s health,
and prepared to break up. The comman
ding officer of the regiment, being the po
litest man in company, made a handsome
speech to Mr. Mayor, thanking him for his
hospitable invitation and entertainment :
44 No, colonel,” replied the mayor, 44 it is to
you that thanks are due by me and my bro
ther alderman for your genejrous treat to us.”
The colonel replied with as much warmth as
good breeding would allow : the mayor re
torted with downright anger, swearing that he
would not be choused by the bravest colo
nel in his majesty’s service. “ Mr. Mayor,”
said«the colonel, “ there is no necessity for
displaying any vulgar passion on this occa
sion. Permit me to shew you, that I have
here your obliging card of invitation.”—
“ Nay, Mr. Colonel, here is no opportunity
for bantering—there is your card.”
Upon examining the cards, it was obser
ved, that notwithstanding an attempt to dis
guise it, both cards were written in the sapne
hand by some person, who had designed lo
make fools of them all. Every eye of the
corporation turned spontaneously upon the
attorney, who, of course, attended all public
meetings. His impudence suddenly gave
way, he faltered and betrayed himself so ful
ly by his confusion, that the colonel, in a fit
of summary justice, threw him'out of the
window. For this Sir Francis Delaval was
charged five hundred pounds. Whether-he
paid the money orgnpi, I forget.
♦The Indian narog of the Delaware,
. Anecdote of a Monkey.—Jackoo was par
ticularly dexterous, and though somewhat
tricky, was prized for his power pf amusing
the sailors when trade winds bore them stea
dily along, or when fear of squajls made
their thoughts a little troublesome to them.
Well, some time in the year 1818,* the ves
sel embarked on her homeward voyage, and
among other passengers, carried a?lady who
had a child at the breast, that was only a
few' weeks old. When the weather per
mitted, the lady took exercise on the^deck ;
sometimes with her infant charge in her
arms, but often »at a moment when if, had
been hushed to slumber by the motion of
the ship, the rushing of the waters, and the
whispering of the breeze—opiates custom
soon renders powerful, and which, in the
present instance, were allowed to supercede
both the necessity of a cradle and the lulla
by of a nurse. In August the weather be
came remarkably fine ; and one afternoon,
when the vessel was ploughing the watery
waste, with clusters of sea fowl disporting
in their wake, the sun looked forth in all his
majesty, and next to himself, illuminating
the two sublimest objects in nature—a num
ber of large whiles, sporting under the ex
panded sky—a sight that is'always welcome
at sea, and which, amidst the vast solitudes
of the Atlantic, may be compared to the
meeting of pilgrims in the desert. This
discovery attracted the attention of all
aboard ; and after the captain had gratified
his curiosity, ho politely offered his glass
to the lady, that she might obtain a clear
view of an object which the naked eye was
unable to distinguish from the fleecy clouds
that every where tinged the horizon’s verge.
At this time Mrs. had the baby in her arms,
but being aware that it could not harm it
self by rolling, she wrapped her shawl about
the little innocent, and placed it on a sofa
on which she had been sitting., Captain C.
assisted her to steady the glass; but scarce
ly had she applied her eye to the instrument,
when the helmsman exclaimed in atone that
indicated the deepest emotion, 44 Good God!
seewhatthe mischievous monkey has done!”
A mother’s fears are easily excited ; and
the reader may judge of the lady’s feelings
when, on turning round, she beheld the
monkey in the act of transporting her belov
ed child to the very top of the mast. And
here it may be necessary to explain that
the monkey was nearly four feet high, and
so strong and active, that while it grasped
the infant firmly with one aim, it climbed
the shrouds by the aid of the other with as
tonishing ease, and seemingly unembarras
sed by the weight of his burden. One look
was sufficient for the mother, and that look
had well nigh been her last, Though she
attempted to speak,'the ^ords either died
away on her lips or were rendered inarticu
late by her sobs and groans ; and had it not
been ft* the prompt humanity of those a-
roiind her, she would have fallen prostrate
on the deck, where she afterwards stretch
ed to all appearance & lifeless corpse. Situ
ated as he was, the captain knew not what
to do ; when he looked at his passenger,
speechless, motionless and deadly pale, he
almost fancied that life had fled ; and when
he thought ot her child that was swinging
aloft under the care of so strange a nurse, he
expected every minute that the capricious
monkey would become tired of his toy and
drop it in the ocean or dash it on ihe deck.
Often as he had crossed the wide Atlantic,
and braved the perils of th« winter’s storm—
often as he had been placed in circumstances
in which he would have given the wealth of
nations,had the wealth of nations been his lo-
cive, for the privilege of treacling the earth
in safety; never, amid all the changes and
chances of seaman’s life, had his feelings
been exposed,to so severe a trial.
The sailors could climb as well as the *
monkey; but the latter watched their, mo
tions narrowly; and as it ascended higher
up the mast, the moment one of them put
his foot upon the shrouds, the captain be
came afrai : that it would drop the child, and
endeavour to escape by leaping from one
mast to another. In the mean time the lit- «
tie innocent was heard to cry ; and though
many thought it was suffering pain, their
fears on this point w*ere soon dissipated,
when they observed the animpl imitating
exactly the motions of a nurse, by handling,
soothing, and carressing its charge, and
even endeavouring to hush it to sleep. From
the deck the lady was conveyed to the cabin,
and gradually., restored to the use of her
senses ; but then her cries were most dis
tressing, and though she was kindly assured
it would soon be well, it required the utmost
exertions of two men to prevent her from
rushing on deck with the view of ascending
herself. In the mean time, many plans
were tried to lure the culprit from.his birth
above ; but finding all fail, the captain, as a
dernier resort, ordered every man to conceal
himself below'. This order was promptly
obeyed, and Mr. C. himself quietly took his
station in the cabin stair, where he could see
all that passed without being seen. Thei
plan fcappily succeeded : for the monkey onf
perceiving that the coast was clear, cau-*
tiously descended from his lofiy perch, a ad A
replaced the infant on the sofa ; cold, fret
ful, and frightened indeed,'but in every oth
er respect as when he took it up. The htr-
mane seaman had flow a most grateful task*,
to perform : the babe was restored to its
mothers’ arms, amidst tears, and thanks,
and blessings—thanks to the man for his
sympathy and aid, and deeper gratitude to
the Divine Beirig,?Ivhose arm, though un
seen, had sh‘elqp4ithe innocent amidst pains
and perils, sudp-is-perhaps never before im
pended over the head of« preature so young.
! J
A Bookseller's Judgment.—Dr. Prideaux
used to relate that when he brought the
copy of his “ connection of the old and new
testament” to the bookseller, he told him
it was a dry subject, and the printing could
not be safely ventured upon unless he could
enl'wen the work with a little humour.
A shrewd madman.—When the Farl of
Bradford was brought before Lord Chan
cellor Loughborough, to be examined upon
application for a statute of lunacy against
Jiim, the chancellor asked him “ How ij-iany
legs has a sheep?” “ Does your Loroihip
mean,” answered Lord Bradford, “ a live or
a dead sheep ?” “ Is it not the sarnie thing?”
said the Chancellor. “ No my Lord,” said
Lord Bradford, “ there is much difference :
a living sheep may have four legs, a dead
sheep ha3 only two. There are but two
legs of mutton—the two fore legs are shoul
ders.”
> Not long since, as a couple were going
to he married, and proceeded as far as the
churqh-yard gate, the gentleman stopped/*
his fair comrade with the following unex
pected address :—“ Mary, during our cour-
ship, I have told you most of my mind, but
not all my\mm<t—when wo are married I
shall insist\ipon three things.”—“ What
are they ?” asked the astonished lady. “ In
the first place,” says he, “ I shall lie alone ;
secondly, I shall eat alone ; and* lastly, I
shall find fault vftien there is no occasion; can
you submit to these conditions ? “ O yes,
Sir, very easily, “ she replied,” “ for if you,
lie alone, J shall not : if you eat alone, I
shall eat first; and as to finding fault with
out occasion, that, I think, may be preven*
ted, for I will take care that you shall never
want occasion
f
A Dangerous Adven ture.—Not long since
a reverend clergyman in Vermont, being ap
prehensive that the accumulated weight of
snow upon the roof of his barn might do
some damage to his real estate,—to the
treasures which he had laid upon earth, and
being tenacious of his earthly inheritance,
was resolved to prevent it by seasonably
shovelling it off. He therefore ascended it,
having first, for fear the snow might all slide
off at once and himself with it, fastened to
his waist one end of a rope, and given the
other to his wife. He went to work, but
fearing still for his safety, “ my dear,” says
he, “ tie the rope around your waist,”—no
sooner had she done this than off went the
snow, poor minister and all, and up went his
wife.
Thus on one side of the bam the as-
tonded and confounded clergyman hung,
bqt, on the other side hung his wife, high,
and dry, in majesty sublime dinglmg and
dangling at the end of the rope. A gentle
man, however, luckily, passing by, delivered
♦ViAiri ftnm fhrir riprilAUs .■aitnntioVi.