A little tip and a little tap."
"Fiddle-de-dee! You'd had a nap,
And when you were only half awake
Heard an icicle somewhere break.'
"What's an icicle? I don't know;
Rooster tells about ice and snow-
Something that isn't as good as meal,

That drops down on you and makes you squeal." "Well! swallow Rooster's tales, I beg,

And think you didn't come out of an egg!

I tell you I heard the old shell break,

And the first small noise you ever could make;
And mammy croodled and puffed her breast,
And pushed us further out of the nest,
Just to make room enough for you;
And there's your shell-I say it's true!"
Chip looked over his shoulder then,
And there it lay by the old gray hen-
Half an egg shell, chipped and brown,
And he was a ball of yellow down,
Clean and chipper, and smart and spry,
With the pertest bill and the blackest eye.
"Hin!" said he, with a little perk,
"That is a wonderful piece of work!
Peep, you silly, don't you see
That shell isn't nearly as big as me?
Whatever you say, miss, I declare
I never, never could get in there!"
"You did!" says Peep. "I didn't !" says Chip;

With that he gave her a horrid nip,

And Peep began to dance and peck,

And Chip stuck out his wings and neck.

They pranced and struck and capered about,

Their toes turned in and their wings spread out,

As angry as two small chicks could be,

Till Mother Dorking turned to see,

She cackled and clucked, and called in vain

At it they went with might and main
Till at last the old hen used her beak,
And Peep and Chip with many a squeak
Staggered off on either side

With a very funny skip and stride.

"What dreadful nonsense!" said Mother Hen,

When she heard the story told again;

"You're bad as the two-legs that don't have wings, Nor feathers nor combs-the wretched things! That's the way they fight and talk

For what isn't worth a mullein stalk.
What does it matter, I'd like to know,
Where you came from, or where you go?
Keep your temper and earn your food;
I can't scratch worms for a fighting brood.
I won't have quarrels-I will have peace;
I hatched out chickens, so don't be geese!
Chip scratched his ear with his yellow claw,
The meekest chicken that ever you saw;
And Peep in her feathers curled one leg,
And said to herself: "But he was an egg!"

FEMALE PLEASANTRIES.

MRS. KIDDER.

"I heard it !"

"Who told you?

"Her friend." (?)

"You don't say?"

""Tis dreadful!"

"Yes, awful!"

"Don't tell it, I pray !"

"Good gracious!"

"Who'd think it?"

"Well! well! well!"

"Dear me!"

"I've had my
Suspicions !"

"And I too, you see!"

"Lord help us!"

"Poor creature !"

"So artful!"

"So sly!"

"No beauty!"

"Quite thirty!

Between you and I!"

"I'm going!"

"Do stay, love!"

"I can't!"

"I'm forlorn!"

"Farewell, dear!"

"Good-bye, sweet!"

"I'm glad she's gone!"

THE PUZZLED CENSUS TAKER.

J. G. SAXE.

"Got any boys?" the marshal said
To a lady from over the Rhine;
And the lady shook her flaxen head
And civilly answered, "Nein!"

"Got any girls?" the marshal said
To the lady from over the Rhine;
And again the lady shook her head
And civilly answered, "Nein !"

"But some are dead!" the marshal said
To the lady from over the Rhine;
And again the lady shook her head
And civilly answered "Nein!"

"Husband, of course?" the marshal said
To the lady from over the Rhine;
And again she shook her flaxen head
And civilly answered, "Nein !"

"The devil you have!" the marshal said
To the lady from over the Rhine;
But again she shook her flaxen head,
And civilly answered, "Nein!"*

"Now what do you mean by shaking your head, And always answering "Nine ?"

"Ich kenn nicht Englisch!" civilly said

The lady from over the Rhine !"

A BALLAD OF BEDLAM.

PUNCH.

Wake, lady, wake! the azure moon
Is rippling in the verdant sky;
The owl is warbling his soft tune,
Awaiting but thy snowy eye.
The joys of future years are past,
To-morrow's hopes have fled away;
Still let us love, and e'en at last

We shall be happy yesterday.

The early beam of rosy night

Drives off the ebon morn afar,
While thro' the murmur of the light

The huntsman winds the mad guitar.
Then, lady, wake! my brigantine

Pants, neighs, and prances to be free;
Till the creation I am thine;

To some rich desert fly with me.

* Nein, pronounced nine, is the German for “no.”

If nobody's noticed you, you must be small;
If nobody's slighted you, you must be tall;
If nobody's bowed to you, you must be low;
If nobody's kissed you, you're ugly, we know ;
If nobody's envied you, you're a poor elf;
If nobody's flattered you, you flatter yourself.
If nobody's cheated you, you are a knave;
If nobody's hated you, you are a slave;
If nobody's called you a "fool" to your face,
Somebody's wished for your back in its place.
If nobody's called you a tyrant" or "scold,"
Somebody thinks you of spiritless mould.

If nobody knows of your faults but "a friend,"
Nobody'll miss them at the world's end.

If nobody clings to your purse like a fawn,
Nobody'll run like a hound when it's gone.
If nobody's eaten your bread from your store,
Nobody'll call you a miserly bore."

If nobody's slandered you-here is our penSign yourself "Nobody " quick as you can.

SALLY SIMPKIN'S LAMENT.

HOOD.

"Oh, what is that comes gliding in,

And quite in middling haste?

It is the picture of my Jones,
And painted to the waist.

"It is not painted to the life,

For where's the trousers blue ?

Oh, Jones, my dear! Oh, dear! my Jones,
What is become of you?"

แ 'Oh, Sally, dear, it is too true

The half that you remark