•'Then why do you lob poor Jess go out, ae^<Kd " wnfl a fond abbreviate she ■often -used in speaking to him. "Because, ray ! child, 1 would not con strain her to stay in against her will A S man has written that 'the sweetes in the language next to love, is liberty.' I would not constrain the liberty if Liyone, least of all that of a poor course, you never would, grand. I need not have asked the ques tion. And now you and I will spend a cosy evening together,' , said Gortiudo not unwilling to be alone with you to-night, my little I rue. 1 wished to speak to you in private, quite safe from the least chance of interruption .that I might reveal to you an important secret, Gertrude,: said Gabriel Haddon, im "A secret, grandpa!" exclaimed the *hild, with breathless eagerness ; and, at ihat instant, a flash of lightning blazed into the room, lighting up the patriarchs fine ihead and face and silver hair and beard with a, radiant glory brighter than its own, and Illumining the beautiful face of the girl, her dark eyes glowing, her whole countenanco Inspired, eloquent, with the intense curios ity and breathless interest natural to her ago and temperament. The lightning was instantly followed by a peal Of thunder that reverberated through gorges of the mountain, and died away in the distance. T "The storm is coming around, as 1 thought it might. Come away from that open window, my child, and take the *andle off the table, and set it out of the draught to keep it from being blown out, said the ferry-man, as lie arose from hie .seat to close the shutters. Gertrude took the lighted candle and set it on a little stand in the sheltered corner »f the room, between the kitchen-door and the passage-door, aud then she came and drew her grandfather's easy-chair up to the table, and a common chair for herself Reside it. The old man, having closed and fastened the window-shutters, came and sat down ■with his granddaughter. She looked up to his face with mule inquiry. Slip did not in any other way repeat her question. " Yes, my little True," he said, gravely answering her silent appeal. " 1 have a secret to tell you—one that you must have known sooner or lator-one that you ought to have been told before this, and that you shall hear now. And yet—and yet" Gabriel Haddon paused and sighed. Gertrude gazed at him in mute expect ancy. "First tell me, my dear, do you know what day this is ?" gravely inquired the old man. " Yes, dear grandpa,it is the fifteenth of July, your birthday, and also mine. Had you forgotten it V" asked the girl, in a won dering tone. "No, my dear; I had not forgotten it. 1 am sixty years old to day, Gertrude. How old ai'O you t" " Why, fifteen, clear grandpa, don t you remember?" she inquired with some un easinese. "Yes, my child, I remember perfectly, you are fifteen years old and some clays besides," he added thoughtfully. "Grandpa! dear grand pn. I what do you mean ? You talk ao strangely ! Are you not well ?" inquired Gertrude, an xiously, iixing her dark eyes on his face. "I am very well, my little True, and know too well what I am talking about," Bighed the patriarch. "Then what do you mean, dear grand, by saying that on this, my birthday, I am fifteen years and some days old ? If this be my birthday I cannot bo fifteen years and some day* old. Or if lam fifteen years anil some days old this cannot be my birthday! How can it, grandpa ?" "Then — 1 am not — I am not—your granddaughter, after all ¥' " No, my dear, little Toue, you are not my granddaughter—after the flesh," »mlly replied Gabriel Haddon. "Whose—whose —child —am," sho be- in faltering tones ; but her voice broke down, and sho dropped her face upon her open palms and wept. " You aro my child afcer the spirit, my little True," ho replied to her broken ques tion.

" Oh,grandpa ! Oh,grandpa !"shesobbed and she could say no more.

"Do not weep, my own. You could not bo nearer to me if you had been born mine,' said tne patriarch tenderly.

" But oh, grandpa! not your child ! How oan I bear it ? How can I believe it ? Oh, it ie very strange and very hard ! Oh, grand pa ! Oh, my dear grandpa ! Not your child, Not your child !" she continued to weep as with a sense of sudden bereavement and utter desolation.

" You arc my child after the spirit, my little True. I have never had a child but •you.. You have been all the world to me. xouhave never known any parent but me. I havo been all the world to you. Wo have Tjecn all in all to each other, and we will continue to be so. Come, my love, dry your eyes, look up and smile. Do you nofe ■wish to know how you came into my charge?" kindly inquired her grandfather, as wo must still call nim.

Gertrude bowed her head ; she could scarcely trust herself to speak. " Listen then, my child. Gertrude, by some strange coincidence of chance or fate, every important crisis of my life has come upon the fifteenth day of July; end at the Jong and regular intervals of fifteen years. The last signal event in my lowly existence occurred just fifteen years ago this night, when: I found you in a cradle among the water lilies, like another little Moses in the "bulrushes. Fifteen years have passed away since then, and brought you to womanhood and me to another great, critical night of my life! ' I feel that crisis approaching," said the patriarch. Gertrude raised her beautiful face from her hands and gazed upon the speaker, hei arched eyebrows, her dark, dilated eyes and lips slightly apart, all expressing the intensity of wonder. "No,", said Gabriel Haddon, answering that'look. "I cannot explain how I know these things. I do not understand the operations of my own mind, far less the mysteries of my spirit. Ido not even know whether the approaching crisis -will bring good or evil, i only, feel that it is coming, and : know that it will surely come." "It is all very strange," murmured Ger trude, still gazing on the speaker. "Everything is strange, or-nothing is. But, inasmuch as I perceive this crisis coming, and know not how it will go, I am constrained to tell you the story of my life and the secret of your,?. Draw your chair closer to mine, my dear, and listen." Gertrude moved as directed, but the patriarch had' not time to open his lips be fore a vivid 1 flash of lightning blazed into the room, followed by a tremendous deluge of rain as if the heavens : had suddenly opened for a new flood.

And scarcely had the last echo of the thunder-passed away before the clatter of horses' hoofs was heard rapidly gallopine towards the house. .

_ The old man and the girl paused to listen to a sound so unusual at that -hour. ■'.• .•: ■

"Who can that possibly be coming here At this time of the night and in such

weather ?" inquired the ferry-man. ---« It surely cannot be any one who wanes te cross the ferry," answered the young gU '' - Yet what else would bring a horseman llCl'G ?'* "But you could not put him across, grandpa?" *„„,, "Not in this tempest —no, my clear, it would bo madness to attempt *> (U > s0 : But here he is, whatever he wants, aciueci the patriarch, as the horseman clattered up to the gate and jumped with a " fchud u> the ground. Gabriel Haddon got up and opened the door, admitting first a blast of wind ana rain behind which entered the- visitor—a tall, gaunt, intensely black old negro, closely buttoned up in a drab riding-coat, and wearing black trousers, with then , onus tucked into high-topped leather boots. "Evenin , , niarster. Dreadful weather, sar," said the negro, taking off his black felt hat, and beating the rain-drops from it. " Why, is this you, Saturn ? What under the sun could have brought you out on such a Btovmy night?" inquired Mr Haddon, as he carefully closed the door and placed a chair for the man. ) " Yes, it's mo, Marse Gabe ; and nutnn , 'less it was a case o' life and deaff, could a fotuh me out, as you may judge, sar." "But sit down, sit down, while you ex plain your business. You must have had a battering ride down the mountain pass through this tempest," said the ferry-man, kindly. "Trite for you, marster, I did have a sort of hard fight wid de ellerments to keep my own scat on one horse, and lead t'other down tho pass 'dout breaking all our bones ; but, bress do Lor', hero we is, safe at last, and thanking, marster, T will sit down,' said Saturn, sinking into the chair, and dropping his wet hat on the floor beside him. „ ~ " Now, tell me your errand, Saturn, said tiie ferry-man, resuming his own seat in his elbow-chair, but turning his face attentively toward his visitor. "; At that moment a blinding flash oi light ning lit up tho room, and a deafening peal of thunder shook the house. "Merciful Lord in heaven!" exclaimed the appalled negro. "That any sinful soul should have to take its flight on siCli an awful night as this !" "Now, then, tell me your message, my 'good man. If it be one of life and death, as you say, you should lose no fcime in delivering it," said the ferry-man, as soon as silence was restored. " Well, sar, it's ole Marse Gen al Slaughter, sar, and worry suddint, though it might n been expected," said the negro with a sigh. The fair, placid face of the ferry-man grew dark and stormy as the night. "And what of General Slaughter?" he sternly demanded. " Well, you see, sar, his hour have come, as might be looked for ; 'cause he's a werry ftgeable ole gemman, is the 010 marster, sar ; ober ninety odd year ole, sar. But for all tlab, he was as well as you or me, sar, in health, he was, till yes'day mornin , , when he hey himself into a passion long or de tax collector, and tfent rjght off inter a fit, or a faint, or a eomefin. Wβ put him to bed, and I went off and fotcli two doctors, as has been wid him - that is, one or t'other has— ever since. But, laws, sah, he never come to hisaels 'til die arternoon, and de doctor says as how it's o'ny for deaff, and tole him so, too. And so 010 Marse Gen'al, he sent me off fro , do storm to ax you please to come to nee him, fo' de Lord sake, im mediate, as how he got somefin to cay to you befo' he die ; which do doctors say he can't possible lib fro' de night." Darker and sterner grew the face of the ferry-man. "And has Hiram Slaughter sent for me at last, after thirty years of bitter wrong unconfessed ?" ho muttered to himself.

" Marse Gen'al prays you, sah, to lose no timo in comin', sal), but como at once He hab sent a saddled horse fo' you, and say how lie would a writ a note, on'y lie can't hold a pen," continued tho negro. For a few moments fcho ferry-man's fine face seemed the field of wan-ing passions ; but at length his countenance cleared, his brow became serene ; he bowed his silvered head, and murmured :

" I will go." Gertrude, who had been an attentive and interested listener to the conversation, now arose and came around the table to hor grandfather's side, and said, with earnest expostulation : " Grandpa—dear grandpa ! —what! On a night like this do not think of doing such a thing ! It would endanger your precious life !"

"My little True," said the ferry-man, taking her face between his hands, and gazing into her wistful, dark-brown eyes— "my little True, mine enemy lies on his death-bed, mine enemy no longer, and has sent for me. I must go to him."

" Through lightning and thunder and rain, dear grand ?" "Through fire, if necessary, my child; but the only care I really have is the leaving you at homo to-night." " Oh, dear 'grand, don't think of me. I shall not mind being alone afc all,since you must leare me."

"No? You arc a brave little girl, and cortainly there is nothing to hurt you. Now bring mo my long boots, dear." - Gertrude brought the boots, groat-coat, hat, and gloves, and laid them all on the table, except the boots, which she placed on the floor at her grandfather's feet.

The ferry-man soon got ready, assisted by the young girl, who helped to draw on his overcoat. Then he took his hafe and gloves, and said : "It is now ten o'clock, my dear. It will take me half an hour to reach Hill Top Hall, half an hour, say, to receive General Slaughter's last wishes, whatever they may be, and half an hour to return. So I shall try to be back by half-past eleven, or if .there should be any delay, twelve at latest. But don't sit up for me. love. I'll take the duplicate key and let myself in. Good-night until I see you again."

He stooped and kissed her brow, took the large Umbrella offered him, and went forth into the storm, followed by his negro guide.

' She was obliged to shut the door quickly after them to keep out the driving wind and rain.'' She turned the key and resumed her seat by the ' table — listen ing. : ; Presently she heard, the clatter of their horses' hoofs as theygalloped away, and then she bowed her head, and prayed for the safety of her grandfather. Her grandfather ? Ah ! but he was not her grandfather, she remembered as soon as she had finished her prayer ; he was of no kindred to her ; but did she love him less since she had discovered that fact ?

Oh, no ! . she loved him, if possible, more than ever; and she was sure he loved her utterly. The bond between them was one of perfect love, not to be broken even by' death, when death should come to one of them. So the shock of the revelation being over, and the time for reflection being given, the young- girl was reconciled. But if not the ferry-man's granddaughter who was she, then ? Who were her'parents ? Why had she been placed, a helpless babe in a floating cradle, and left, like Moses in' the bulrushes, only even more forsaken,

since no one watched to see if she should be. saved ? She could nofc answer these questions even by an inference. She turned from them to one nearer and move vital. .■..., • Why had the dying General Slaughter sent for Gabriel Haddon to come to his bedside? General Slaughter had been the life-long, bitter enemy of Gabriel Haddon, she knew, but the cause of the enmity she knew not. Had not the Ferry been the inalienable freehold of the ferry-man, Gen. Slaughter would have hunted Gabriel Haddon from the neighbourhood thirty years before. And to the Christian ferry-man, who only wished to live in peace and. charity with all mankind, this enmity, with its incessant aggravation.and insults, was the greatest fcnal in life. Of late years an absolute silence and inactivity had fallen upon it. Now this silence was broken by a message from the dying man. This message might mean nothing more than the dying sinner's wish to make repara tion to an injured neighbour; or it might mean matters of more importance. The young girl's mind was so occupied by these questions that she found no oppor tunity to think of the loneliness of her position in the isolated ferry-house. A trifling incident brought it to her recol lection. The candle that had burnt low now fell into its socket and went out. At the same moment a flash of lightning blazed into the room, followed by a crash of thunder that seemed to discharge a volley of cannon balls that rolled and rattled clown the roof, while call the scene was instantly engulfed in the blackness of the darkness. Gertrude shuddered and cowered until all was still, and then got up and crept about, looking, or rather feeling for the match-box. Then the first complaint burst from her patient lips. "Oh ! I do u-w/i Jess had not gone oil this evening, to stay all night, too. Bift I do not think she would have gone if she had known grandpa would be called away and I should be left alone," she added, com punctiously. She found the match-box, struck a light, and lighted a candle. She looked at the clock. °It was a quarter past ten. She had no thought ot going to bed until the return of her grandfather. So she set the candle upon her little work-stand, took some needlework from its drawer, and sat down to sew. There seemed to be a lull in the storm ; the wind had calmed ; the rain was falling gently. In the midst of this silence came a sound familiar enough during the day, but unusual after sunset, and even unprece dented at this hour. It came from the opposite side of the river— " Boat !"

She could scarcely believe her ears. She started up and listened. The call came' again. "Boat!"

She laid down her work and hurried into the passage, and to tho back door leading into the yard, and called her two guardians — the bull-dogs Jupiter and Juno. " Jupe ! Juno ! Good dogs !" They replied with a yowl and a yop, as suring her of their presence at their post of duty gnd their promptitude in case of danger. ■ Encouraged by the sense of companion ship, she left the back door open for them to enter, if required, and then she hurried to open the front door. Tlie night was still as dark as pitch ; the rain was falling steadily. Once more came the voice, borne across the river in an agony of entreaty :

" Boat!" She seized a little speaking-trumpet, that hung by the door, and shouted through it: " Comiko !" Then she hurried into the house, lighted an end of candle, placed it in a little glass torn, took a water-proof cloak down from a nail in the passage, put it on, drew the hood over her head, took tip her little lan tern, and set out through the rain for the boat-house. The thought of disregarding the call never once entered her mind. She went down the path leading from the front door to the back gate, which opened upon the pier. She closed tho gate behind her, but did not go in upon the pier. She went down a few steps on the left to the boat-house, where the boats were moored. She unmoored one of the lightest of the raw-boats, gob into it, and rowed her self out on tho open river. It was as dark as the River of Styx. She put her little speaking-trumpet to her mouth and shouted: I " Show a light on your side to guide the boat."

In a moment the voice replied : " All right! Come on !" And in another moment the fire on the opposite bank blazed Hp. The brave girl struck out toward it. The river was very rough, and the night very dark ; but she was a skilful hand at the oars, and the phosphorescent light on the ripplee of the water helped her to see her Way, while the light on the opposite bank guided her to her goal. When half way across the river there came a flash of light ning that revealed for an instant the wnole eoene — the opposite mountain with the awful cleft from summit to base, which served as a pass for foot-passengers or horse men, but was utterly impracticable for carriages ; the beach below that afforded a good road up and down the rivef-bank; and, finally, a single human being on that beach—a man, who stood holding a horee by the bridle. In another instant all the scene was swal lowed up in darkness, and there was nothing visible except the little lantern in the bows of the boat, the phosphorescent light on the river, and the small, red, smouldering fire on the opposite bank. But that fire was ex ceedingly fitful—now blazinghigh.asplendid beacon, as if fed by some light, combustible material, and now dying down as if damp ened by the falling rain. Gertudo rowed toward that fitful light, drawing nearer and nearer the shore under the frowning precipice, until at length the bows of her boat grated upon the gravelly beach. - . (I'Jim STORY WILL BE CONTINUED IN OUR NEXT WEDNESDATS ISSUE.)

Post Card Proof.

Salisbukt, Term , April 4, 1883. Gents :-I wee afflicted with serious Kidney and Urinary troublo for tvrelve years After trying , all the doctors arid patent medicines I could hear of. I used two bottles of Hop Bitters and am perfectly cured. B. F. BOOTH.

Washington, D.C., April 3,1883. To the Hop Bitters Co.: Sirs :-I write this as a token of the great appreciation I have for your Bitters. 1 was afflicted with.lnflammatory Rheumatism Beven years, and no medicine seemed to do me any good until I tried three bottles of your Hop Bitters, and to my surprise I am as well to-day as ever I wa3. I hope you may have great suc cess in this great and valuable medicine. Any one wishing to know moro about my -cure can learn , by addressing , me. : , , ■ , > E. M. WILLIAM'S, 1,103 16th St.

We believe that if every one would use American Co.'c Hop Bitters freely there would Bcrmucn lees sickne'S and misery in the world, ana people aro fast findlne this cut, whole families keeping well at a trifling cost by ita use. We advise all to toy it. Bead.

RANDOM SHOTS.

[BY ZAMIEL.]

iSSS write to please the county For xne an aim I never fash- for

Now that the women of New Zealand are to have votes for Parliament,, and are elig ible to be elected, it is anticipated that very soon we shall have a Petticoat Govern ment, and the honourable lady member for Mount Eden, while deeply engrossed in a C. r>. A. discussion in the House, may.be ex pected to receive a call from a ragged urchin, who will address her in the following pathetic language: •'Mother, dear mother, come home with rac

T £ £$$$& can't go Ulle the cradle he

rocks, A.nd sister is squalling for tea, lie told me to come and bid you cornc home, To help to make breeches for me! • Come home! Come home! V-Lli', Please mother, dear mother, come home !

Mother, dear mother, come home with me now, ' The Parliament clock has struck two ; Dad's heard that you've "paired" with young Major McFlirt,- ■ ■ , And I guess he is jealous of you! V j. ' He knows you went into tho "lobby iastnignt, And the Mnjor was there, too, of course; Dad save such " divisions" arc not to his mind, And he means now to have a divorce ! Come home! etc.

Mother, dear mother, come home with me now, The Parliament clock has struck three; • You're voting "supplies'" while dad cant get food , For poor little baby and me ! _ While you're drinking sherry at Bellamy 3 bar • . And feeding on oysters and trip?, Dad's boiling the billy to make us some stilly And drinking a bottle of swipes! Come homo! etc.

Mother, dear motfier, come home with me now, * Tho Parliament clock has struck four; Here's Dad with the baby and cradle and all, A-writing outside at the door! ... ~ ~ Though you've got your "rights m this .Parlia ment House In our " house" now everything s wrong! Como quickly, or Had will go stark scaring mad,— , ' Please mother, dear mother, come home ! Come home! etc.

The steed has very nearly been stolen, and our municipal rulers have taken the precaution to lock the stable door. A very slight neglect on the part of the caretaker, and the splendid new building in Wellesley- Btreet, comprising the Free Public Library and Mviwcipal Offices, might, with its in valuable contents, h«Y9 keen a prey to the fire-fiend. The world is ™.f° little wisdom that the action, of the u_!&- ic land City Fathers in appointing a night watchman, after such a slight warning as that of Sunday evening last, deserves to.be placed on record to their everlasting glory. Yet the criminal folly of not appointing such a custodian long ago is "seen when one reflects that the damage clone by the in cipient fire of this week would have sufficed to pay a watchman's wages for two years ! The circumstances surrounding the ovit break also suggest a lamentable absence of ordinary precaution and , forethought, so much so that I am tempted to ask the questions-Are those buildings adequately insured? Are the city archives duly pro tected from destruction by fire ? And what precautions are taken for the preservation of the unique Grey collection of old books, manuscripts and curios ?. , I trust some Councillor will press' these questions home before it is too late.

While touching on the municipal build" ings there are several matters connected with the staff employed therein which (like the building itself ) would •be the better of ventilation ! There has been some queer j il ggl er y going on m the way of discharg ing old servants and taking oii new ones— apparently on no principle of economy or efficiency. An old and faithful servant of the Corporation has, I am told, had to give place to one who is a stranger to the work, besides not being so young or so smart as the discarded one. Were Iso inclined, I might indite a warm philippic against the Corporation Autocrat, or place the blame on certain Councillors who wish to grind an axe for some friend or other. But, as I don't know sufficient about the inner workings of the ■ municipal machine, I refrain from passing judgment, and simply conclude that there is some of that infernal Dowie-detested Freemasonry at work, lead ing to favouritism and corrupt preference, to the detriment of- honest worth and ster ling if unservile fidelity to duty. . If any more fantastic tricks are played :in the direction indicated I shall pass on to a higher degree and, disclose some, of the secrets. "So mote it be !" •

There is one man in the big municipal building who has no sinecure-I mean the general man-of-all-work who draws 29s a week from the city treasury. In return for this munificent salary, the . pampered menial to whom I allude has to sweep and scrub the floors, clean the windows, shake the mats, sweep the pavements, keep the reading room in order, and see that no '' loafer" steals or mutilates the papers. He has to be in attendance from 9 a.m. till 10 p.m. every day (Sundays included), and is not supposed to have any interval for dinner or tea but to be in close and con tinuous attendance —taking his orders as to miscellaneous duties "too numerous to men tion " from the Town Clerk, City Engineer, librarian, Assistant Librarian, Inspector of Nuisances and some" other half-a-dozen " under-strappers " of ' the Corporation! Poor devil! How he is to be pitied, for his days (to use an Irishism) must be one long nightmare. I have been told by an excef lent gentleman — a man, of ability and refinement- who,through stress of hard times, applied for this situation, that on having his duties enumerated, and the list of his prospective " bosses" read over to him, he respectfully declined the appointment, although he was recom mended to it by several influential Councillors, and was almost certain of receiving it. And who shall blame him ? There are depths of humiliation to which even the spur of starvation will not drive high-spirited men, and I think my readers will agree that 90 hours'work a week, at the rate of about 3d per hour, should be spurned by every free man. ' If it isn't slavery, it's a good imitation !

A good story is being told in the Empire City at the expense of ; several habitues of the Wellington Club. They, were lunching at one of the side tables onTuesdayj when a quiet looking stranger joined the group,, bnt without disturbing, the conversation, which related to the Earl of Aberdeen. The peculiarities of the noble visitor were discussed, and patronising remarks freely' made concerning him.. One new comer asked his friends if they had seen "the Fenian Earl," and another was anxious to know if he was worth looking up. ! The chat was becoming decidedly personal, when an innocent waiter exploded a- mine

by addressing,the The masculine gossips Hed hi M .**s "' the Earl of ; Aberdeen; fSIRS I possession of the 'table? 4 ' if' l ? -.*?%,!; * * v ■'■ *«■ Lord Aberdeen has been <«,,■* a few able .remarks .ohX^ common sense of Ih'e HonWW-^M ! - Tom Bracken has been little sentiment 9n,thesubjecfe-'hn' 1I8 '' <) » : bas been drawing attention to ft??* 1 ? ons side. That everyMn^/TuT 11 have a comical aspect ily tt,lßt and the manner in which "the Campaign" is conducted, is,wortW^ ot peo])le who can war wth r a lishtlfM§i -jolly "at a funeral,' jtefi'kt S®K fortunes, and turn aside with atl|§i heel of the. cruel oppressor H e • - sample song of many 'that are 1 %w|j?A among the masses in -Ireland; feiSl 5.' the failure, of the, .Governnient £* measures',.and particularly of ; the2| trial of live Irish members of Parliament the charge of conspiracy:— !; ~-•■ r*- Oh, bad luck to coercion, • ■ '■ ! Aold every new version - ""'' -■<. Of ould acts of Parliament Written "in K&tf - • Sure if Edward the .bird - *™ ci : " Could rise up—on my word He'd laugh in his sleeve at those aveg rm V B.inch. ' .-■ .-• va] ii< For it isn't the thief '.••• -.. .■; Who will now come to grief, '~ *•' Nor the captain that" nicbts by tne-nipoßlta* But the decentest men "L' ■- -'icli Who e'er lifted a pen ...,,. • # To explain to the world that our oWl<<£ • own. '••■.■■-:•. . v nit- Did you hear of tlie way ' , r They got on at Loughrea. When, without any warrant ihcy Doniiwai the pelf, .. ■■'■■' vk!' v When each limb of the law .-'■'.''?■'■ Put his'"orderly" paw ■ i* ill, .;t;i On the money that didn't belong to himself 11 Sure it isn't repealers . ">"-. '4m That's pickers and t-tcalcrs: L.i ',KJ| 'Tis Peelers that's teaching us HowtbbelflHffl But if I was John Dillon , I'd collar each vi11ain,..,;.. .. :.-;; And plant him in gaol, or'l'd eat my* . brogues. . - : Oh, we read of the sly ways, • ' On highways and byways. " • That men like Dick Turpin could 'plundajt rob. :: ' ; u'Sas-* But for impudent bluster,; .; • •:,,, A paid filibuster • ....,-.,'.' Beats Richard all hollow at doing the JoE§ii Now, to wind up ray tale • - X (Ere I'm hauled io the gaol," "' • -; To be hanged, dhrawn, and quartered f« spat; ingsopLin,) May we never say "Stop;"' ~"",' But We'll make them all hop For the bmndher they made air their, pki & campaign! ; : The allusion in tihe first.verse is to % fact that the: proceedings'against Mess Dillon, O'Brien, Redmond, Sheehyf'jiil' Crilly were laid imder an 'Act, of'Edfsrf' 111. The trial in question, as from the standpoint of the mereunij ■ Irish Celt, was nothing a huge farce. It was well known 'from.fe commencement that ho jury 'of Irisiiai would ever find them' guilty; all throng the trial, the accused and their friends i» at the proOeedings, 'andl'the'lorJ, Mayor Oi Dublin travestied" tKe Hearing dj ; the case by giving*sbanquettbtHeTravel. -sers (as they were called) C.f™g s.P«W. This dinner opened -with; :( paign " soup; and beforeit was gonj?tntiwi the guests had an opportunity ot'kmm relative merits -of •" garnishee,,of-.pjsb,' " Scire facias soup," salmon inenfcsauced u VealcutletsillaEdwardllli" ''Clam-icarde .included capoon and.Limerick Ham".4ls ! Murty Hynes." The game; bpastedl.cl " Woodford pheasants and Green-sfcreeti paragus," while the entremets revealed saclj novelties as Gateaux of apricotsaridMft cream, "— " Stand-by jelliies,"- and'!& ersers'pudding." A people whopaMkeii this way are surely;not so.,',' ,dojm trodden as some people allege, and are surely nM together incapable of s^lf-government;!, ♦ ■'•■■ : : *"<• •''.'■'■'* ■ s N";i:'' . i * * * * :'fi. *■','.: m " Ichabod" is now ■-inscribed ;'ori banners of the unemployed:' HbV'aieit \ mighty fallen ! The chief who leUtheai , often has bowed his neck to the'yokelf i conqueror'; Garrard has Uteraily'"'gpJi t" the dogs ;" and the working, men;haye ,W '. their champion for ever! 'NotforeTff, : perhaps j for I have hear'it wHspered W ■ the hero of a thousand battles will yet refa "and lead a forlorn hope against the. bloatea ! capitalists, but it will hot be till'aftcr* general election! To be perfectly cand^ . it is whispered, "that the'"badgataW i retirement from public life Has been secora ' at the instance of 1 who wish to run for Parliament:and;ari , afraid ofWilliam George's active opposite The labour champion need not try to" rai . witb the hare and hunt with.the honnft' for his tenure of office is made:depa» v pon his strictabstehtion from politics; heie in fact, as effectually ''muffl'ett^aa'f! was any poor cm-in the hydrophobia 8e&» : It is hard for the unemployed, I^»™ , have' been compared to'sheep:wonti ' shepherd; or even a:shepherd's dog|| ! every dog must' have his day; and Mß ' get hope and have their woes redrW when the "dog days" are over and tm " muzzle " isrembved ! * » .» * I.- * * To quit the realms of parable and poljttei ' and stick to solid fact, it is;admittaW every hand that the . : oj inspector has earned/ hisy-WS«J r%M : week he has been instrumental in mm £4 of dog tax, ofwhioh, paymentha« evaded,, without' calculating service he has rendered by.: «to»Pg€ streets of a lot of B»-W-"»"°fSS animals. In the execution; pflua« has been, bittea by a cur, and Bm»»j«j the mouth by a currish f human MSffik ho has stuck to his duty amid earned-the JthanksDandr^gngg . general community. A rather *» .* incident took place ' at,;«f■ other: day, which failings of curs and the currish ,inscw humatuty.V W.G.G.owaa ■<****$_$$ kennels, in which seventeen fined, when a full-grown^arrM^ " the door, and prisoners. Ther ? SubanspecteaW|f ' dismay his charges scamper^%P, Ha their liberty! did not stamp and thither. produced,somj, rf , and called the annuals ,tp.dug but five of them The poor brutes (likelthe^mate^ , colonial gaols in the - got a square tern ment, and were only more behind the: barS;trA aay,. j William caped dogs aboatii^K^y| ggj, kennels; wagged his taU and Sjfe -ple°aled, to the placeof da«J*£,' »>» after a few days. he.«» uu osphyxiated. ■ _!!.".•" ,'"'''•

' — ~~~~~ %$% -' ■' " 'awishlwas.astar/^^.ratbp his own poetic ■fancy. •■■ -«,^iM%. you were a comet, "■ ***#. ff vf ; His heart beat tnmultuous^^ ■ : he asked, thejm^^. her unresisting ;Httle,:h^J peri o D #: "And whyfl " Oh." she saidiiwrth'*^ oWlrJS:, ness that fell upon'h>s £ ,£, you ««* a cold oilcloth, ~.,,,, come round once eYery,L&w^

THE ATTnKTAND. EVENING; STAB,, SATUBDAYj .J« AY 21, 1837^

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