I saw him breast fence after fence-nothing could turn him back;

And in the moonlight after him streamed out the brave old pack.

'Twas like a dream, Tom cried to me, as we rode free and fast,

Hoping to turn him at the brook, that could not well be passed,

For it was swollen with the rain; but ah, 'twas not to be; Nothing could stop old Lightning Bess but the broad breast of the sea.

The hounds swept on, and well in front the mare had got her stride;

She broke across the fallow land that runs by the down side; We pulled up on Chalk Linton Hill, and as we stood us there, Two fields beyond we saw the Squire fall stone dead from the

mare.

Then she swept on, and in full cry the hounds went out of sight;

A cloud came over the broad moon and something dimmed our sight,

As Tom and I bore master home, both speaking under breath; And that's the way I saw th' owd Squire ride boldly to his death.

-Baltimore Elocutionist.

THE RAINY DAY.-HENRY W. LONGFELLOW.

The day is cold, and dark, and dreary;
It rains, and the wind is never weary;
The vine still clings to the moldering wall,
But at every gust the dead leaves fall,
And the day is dark and dreary.

My life is cold, and dark, and dreary;
It rains, and the wind is never weary;

My thoughts still cling to the moldering past,
But the hopes of youth fall thick in the blast,
And the days are dark and dreary.

Be still, sad heart! and cease repining;
Behind the clouds is the sun still shining;

Thy fate is the common fate of all,

Into each life some rain must fall,

Some days must be dark and dreary.

A RAILWAY STATION IN THE NORTH OF ENGLAND. WILLIAM ANDERSON.

SCENE. THE PLATFORM, All Bustle and CONFUSION.

Paper Boy (calling loud and quick).-Manchester Examiner, Manchester Guardian, Leeds Mercury, Bradford Observer, Standard, Times, Daily News, Yorkshire Post, Bradshaw & Dinton's Time Tables. [Repeat.]

Porter.—The other side for Shipley, Bradford, and Leeds. Old Woman (rather deaf).—I say which is't booking office? Is this t'place where they give tickets? Have you begun giving tickets?

Agent.-No, we haven't begun giving 'em yet; its where we sell 'em; what do you want, missis?

Old W.-I want a ticket.

Agt.-Where for?

Old W.-What? I want a third class ticket.
Agt.-There's no third class by this train.

Old W.-Ah's that? but I want a third class.

Agt.—Well, you can't have a third class, because—

Old W.-What? What do you say? Can't have one? Oh, these railways, I cannot abide 'em; I reckon nowt on 'em. I'd rayther ride e ahr applecart an' then we knaw where we are. How long hev I to wait for a third class?

Agt.-Where are you going, missis?'

Old W.-Why, I'm going to see my grondaughter; sho's varry poorly.

Agt.—Ah well, but where does she live? What place do you want to go to?

Old W.-Why its-its somewhere near-bless my life, I've clean forgotten! Oh, its ather this side or tother side of Doncaster.

Agt.-Why there's a train just gone that way. There isn't another for an hour.

Old W.-So long as that? I'st that t'nixt train?

Agt.-Yes, that is the "nixt."

Old W.-Isn't there one afore?

Porter.-Train for Skipton, Colne Settle, and Lancaster.

Boy.-Manchester Examiner, Manchester Guardian, Leeds Mercury, Bradford Observer, Standard, Times, Daily News, Yorkshire Post, Bradshaw & Dinton's Time Tables.

Old Gent.-Poorter! Poorter! will you carry these four boxes, they want to go up at-Poorter! (Hem.) They can't hear when there's owt to do.

Swell.-Po-taw! Po-taw!

Por. Yes, sir. (Tips his hat.)

S.-Put my luggage in a first claas.

Por.-Yes, sir. (Tips his hat.)

S.-The two pawtmantaws and gun case you can put in the va-an.

Por.-Yes, sir. (Tips his hat.)
S.-Here's a shilling for you.

Por. Thank you, sir, I'll look after them.

Old G.-Ah say, Poorter, I've axed yo abhat fourteen times ta fotch my fower boxes eere.

Por.-Now goovenor, have a bit of patience. I can't do so many things all at the same time. Can you be in six places at once? for I can't.

Old G.-Sey-eh, eers sixpence for yo.

Por. (quickly.)-Oh, all right sir, I'll look after them. It's a nice morning, you see we're rather busy this morning. Female.-Porter, is this train for

Por.-Yes, mum.

Various voices.-Is this the Scotch train?

Por.-Yes! oi! yes, sir! right.

Fem. (slow and pitiful.)-I say, porter, have you seen my luggage?

Por.-What is it like?

Fem.-Why there's two tin boxes, four carpet bags, three umbrellas, five walking sticks, a bonnet box, and a bird cage. Por.-Why, mum! let me see, a bird cage, and a lot of sticks and umbrellas? why all that luggage was put into the last train and it's half way to London by now.

Fem.-Gone! hey! here! hallo! stop it! oh, dear me! my best bonnet and gown, and poor little Dickey. I say, here, telegraph um back again.

Boy.-Manchester Examiner, Manchester Guardian, &c.

Por. (loud.) Train for Edinbro, Glasgow, and the North. Widow Lady (with daughter).—If you please is this the north train?

Por.-Yes, mum. What class, mum? Any luggage, mum? Daughter.-I-I-I-am third class. I-I-have no luggage. Por.-Yes, mum, this way, this is third, mum. Are you going too, mum?

W. L.-No, I-only came to see my-to see my daughter safe in the train.

Por.-Oh, all right, mum; you've five minutes yet.

W. L.--Thank you kindly. Don't sit in the draught, Lizzie. Will you have this shawl?

Dau.-No, mother, I'd rather not; you will want it your

self.

W. L.—Oh, never mind me, love; I—I—shall be all right and comfortable with your uncle, you know. You'll write as often as you can, won't you, love?

Dau.-Yes, mother, I will; but you must cheer up and don't fret about me.

W. L.-I-I-can't help it, my dear. I can't help thinking if your poor father had lived we shouldn't have to part like this.

Dau.-Well, it's all for the best, no doubt, mother, we shall see better days soon, I know we shall. There, we're moving; good-bye, keep up your spirits; good-bye, dear old mother.

W. L. (crying.)-Good-bye; God bless you!

Yorkshire Man.-Ah say! hey up! which is't train fur Howorth? What, dosn't ta heer me? Hey! that chap it blue coit an't yoller buttons.

Por.-There's a third class in an hour and a quarter.

Y. M.-A naar? Why, I've been waiting a naar an' a holfe already. I niver seed sich wark we trains e all me loif, niver ; they'er coming and going ivery minnet, ommost; it's fair kapping were they come thro' and were they goa to, is ent it? I say, mister is ent it fair kapping where they come thro? Traveler. We can tell where you "come thro'."

Y. M.--Ah sewer they can; whąd dew I care. I don't believe e so mich nincy-noncy and fine talk, bud I wish I were at home we ar Sally. I'm stalled a carrying 'ere, an' I'm feer

ful ungry; can I hev a pipe o' bacca without been taen up and fined forty shillings? Nah lad! what's ta gotten?

Boy.-Manchester Examiner, Manchester Guardian, &c. (Wedding Couple.) Husband.-Now, my dear, we have not a moment to spare. You go and find a seat and I'll see about the luggage and settle with the cab.

Bride. I'll take the dressing case with me, Charles deeah. Hus. Very well, my love; how many packages?

B.-There's-let me see; your hat box, two portmanteaus and dressing case, my five tin trunks, six bonnet boxes, and four hampers.

Hus. (on his fingers.)-Eleven, twelve, sixteen, eighteen packages. Oh bother.

B. What did you say, Charles deeah?

Hus.--Yes, love, I'll see after them. [Aside.] I never saw the like; a lady can't go on her wedding tour without twenty or thirty packages. Luggage! goodness knows what they contrive to put into them, I don't.

Y. M.-I say, poorter, where's this train for?

Por.-The north.

Y. M.-For where? I say when's t'next?

Por.-Twelve thirty.

Y. M.--And when's t'next?

Por.-One forty.

Y. M.-Isn't there one after that?

Por.-Two fifteen.

Y. M.-Are they all third class?

Por.-No.

Y. M.-How's that? When is there a third class? Is there -Nar I niver seed ought like this, they can't get to know nothing out of these poorters.

Young Mother.-Na ten, clumsey, just see were you're a-pushing yourself to. You've gone and squeedged my little baby all up to nothing. Oh, bless it little doidy, was it squeedged by a great hugly man? we'll whip him, yes we will, we will. You ought to be ashamed of yourself; were's your manners? you've left 'em at ome, I think.

Swell-Aw-are-you-aw-addressing aw-those wemarks

to me, old woman?