/THE EXAMINER
lita he
ea acreage me—tnteenngranaane eee
TRUTH AND RUMOUR.
BY LAMAN BLANCHARD,
As Truth once pans’d on her pilgrim way, To rest by a hedge-side, thorny and sere, Few wanderers there she charmed to stay, Though her’s were the tidings that all should hear. She, whispering, sung, and her deep rich voice Yet richer, deeper, each moment grew ; And still, though it bade the crowd rejoice, Her strain but a scanty audience drew,
Rut Rumour, close by, as she pluck’d a reed From a babling brook, detained the thro ng ;
With a hundred tongues that never agreed, She gave to the winds a mocking song.
The crowd with delight its echoes caught, And closer around her yet they drew.
So wondrous and wild the lore she taught, They listen’d entranced, the long day thro’.
The sun went down; when he rose again, — And sleep had becalmed each listener’s mind, The voice of Rumour had rung in vain, No echo had left a charm behind, But T'ruth’s pure note, ever whispering clear, Wand’ring in air fresh sweetness caught ; Then all unnoticed, it touched the ear, And filled with music the cells of thought.
a
WHAT CUPID SAW IN. THE MISTLETOE BOUGH.
Ybung Love has a fancy inclined to vagaries, Which, could we with form and with colour endow, lhe show might resemble a mask of the Fairies Which Cupid beheld in the Mistletoe Bough.
All under the leaves tiny couples were wooing ; What beating of bosoms, what heaving of sigh! What kneeling and suing—what billing and cooing! What breathing of vows, and what making of eyes!
With bride-cakes each spray thick as berries was cover’d, And studded with rings, shedding flashes and sparks ; And legions of elves in the foliage there hover’d That bore a resemblance to parsons and clerks,
And jewels were gleaming, and satins were glistening, And orange-flowers blooming the branches between:
And many a marriage, and many a christening, Appear’d going on in the Mistletoe green.
There shone a bright planet, beatitudes raining, To gladden the union of husbands and wives; The honey moon there, at the full, never waning, ‘Transported each pair for their natural lives.
And Forty and Fify, reclined in the gloaming, Were gazing aloft on Love's beautiful star ; And Sixty and Seventy by streamlets were roaming And Eighty to Ninety-five twang’d the guitar.
4 matron of three-score and upwards was shopping ; fier elderly spouse held her shaw] by her side; An octogenarian the polka was hopping, As brisk aa a bee, with his agile old bride.
And husbands, unlike egotistical gluttons,
Were helping their wives to the prime of the joint; And wives were attentively sewing on buttons—
Of conjugal duty a capital point.
ig short, the whole scene was supremely Elysian; And haply, if wedlock were true to its vow,
“here might be a shadow of truth in the vision Which Cupid beheld inthe Mistletee Bough,
THE RAT IN.THE TRAP.
ee TTT.
eee eee tee me
{ ik ee pn ee ae ae ™ ; |use telling you,’ replied Ellen; ‘you men only make ‘more disturbance than is necessary.’
‘ But it may be in my power to remove your troubles for aught you know.” | Well, never mind, I dare say it will soon end,’ answered Ellen. | But I think ita great want of confidence on your /part,’ returned George, ‘not to tell me ; for what brings you pain must necessarily make you unhappy.’ | ‘fam sure, my dear George, it is far from my thoughts |to cause you the slightest inquietude, but really the cir- ‘cumstance is of so trivial a nature that it is scarcely worth mentioning ; yet at the same time, it brings grief ‘tome. Many girls would laugh, and think it capital ' sport.’
‘ Then tell me,’ said George, earnestly.
After a good deal of persuading, alternately mixed up with vows and and sighs, Ellen informed him, that for some time past an individual had been in the habit of annoying her whenever he met her in the streets, and that lately he had carried his impertinence so far, that she could not step outside the door without being sub- ject to insult, as he was always on the watch for her.
‘Oh, that’s it,’ said George, when she had finished.
‘I really dread to go outside the door,’ continued Ellen.
‘Only let me catch him,’ said George, ‘ and [’}} tell him my mind on the matter.’
‘There,’ cried Ellen. ‘I thought you would go and make some dreadful disturbance.’
‘Well,’ said George calmly.
‘Who knows but that he may stab you or something worse 2?
‘Pooh! nonsense!’ returned her lover.
‘You know,’ continued Ellen, ‘there are a set of horrid fellows abcut that don’t mind what they do, and are ready to perpetrate any villainy, even murder itself.’
‘Stuff! Burke and Hare are not come back to life.— Somebody has been frightening you.’
‘Well, George, did you not read the horrid murder that was committed last week at , I forget where, where a jealous lover poisoned his unfortunate rival, and after murdering fifteen of his relations, put an end tohis unhappy existence by marrying a very rich hei- ress and dying in her arms.’
‘Surely, Ellen, you do’nt give credence to such trash! said George; ‘if you do, 1 am sure you will’ soon become a candidate for one of our strait waist-
a | beg you will desist, Sir,’ said Ellen, withdrawing
her hand, ‘these freedoms [| disiike very much, ‘| swear never to cease to follow you until you pro-
‘mise to give me the pleasure of your company,’
‘IT cannot promise you any such thing,’ replied E}len.
‘Are you engaged to another ?’ said the Major,
‘ Yes,’
‘I will not believe it,’ said he impassionately.
‘] cannot help that,’ said Ellen.
‘And I will see you home.’
‘You cannot.’
‘ But I will,’ cried the Major.
‘Now I must beg you to leave me,’ said Ellen, as she reached the house where she was going.
‘Do you return to-night 7”
‘fdo not think I shall,’ replied Ellen, hoping he would leave her to return alone, and willing, if possible, to avoid the practical joke that George had determined to play him.
‘I shall wait,” said the Major, as Ellen parted with him.
Ellen delayed her visit as long as possible, and upon again coming into the street, saw the Major waiting for her.
‘Now, Sir,’ said she, ‘I intend returning home, and wish to know, once for all, if you are determined to persecute me.’
‘Lovely girl——_——’
‘I do not want your company,’ said Ellen,
‘[ will not Jive without you,’ returned the Major.
‘ Are you determined to follow me home ”
‘Iam, my angel. Cannot you admit me into the asy-. lum, where fean have the pleasure of your sweet som- pany myself?’ ,
‘What do you think the people would say of me ” asked llen.
‘I neither know nor care,’ replied the Major, ‘so that [ possess yourself,’
‘Really I think you are a fit candidate for the ssy- lum,’ responded Ellen, as she drew near home ; ‘ will you leave me?”
: ' [ 0; you must admit me. Iknow you could if yow iked.
‘Well, then, if you will promise ——'
‘What? I will promise anything for your sake.’
‘That you will do just as I tell you, to avoid euspi- cion.”
‘Twill.’
coats,’ ‘if you must speak.to him, for Tfeaven’s sake, do it) mildly, Who knows what may happen if you are, rash 7’ cried Ellen, fearful of a rupture between the two} men. ‘Oh, yes,’ replied George, ‘I'll use him tenderly) enough. I have just thought of a plan.’ | | § What is it ? | Why, it requires your concurrence to carry it into! ‘execution, and afterwards I’ lay any money that he| ,does not trouble you again.’ | ‘Let me hear it, said Ellen. ‘ Well, then, the next time he annoys you, pretend ,to listen to his proposals, and bring him in here.’ | §But as you will open the gate,’ continued Ellen, ‘he ‘will see you.’ | ‘Never mind that, said George; ‘you must let him |
| coming to night or to-morrow morning, and we can| easily mistake your tormentor for him, and take ample| revenge for his behaviour.’
‘What would you do to him?” ‘Hand him over to one of the keepers by mistake, | \get him shaved and put in a straight waistcoat if he’s| ‘troublesome.’ _ * But what will be the consequence? cried Ellen. | * You must say tome when you bring him in, ‘This _is the gentleman; Mr. Lucas spoke about.’ He will not} then suspect that] know anything about the matter, and_ when the trick is over he will not take revenge upon a, /woman,’
‘Well, then,’ replied Elien, ‘you are not totally in- different tome, and 1 will grant you my company for the remainder of the evening.’
‘Sweet girl” cried the enraptured Major, ‘1 knew
‘the god of love at last would move your heart to com-
passion,’
‘ But there will be some difficulty in getting you past the gate,’ said Ellen.
‘Why ?
‘ Because the porter George.’
‘Can’t you frame some plan to get him from his post fora minute?’
‘Let me think,’ said Ellen, appearing to be wrapt in thought; let me see—‘yes, now Ihave it—there is a gentleman coming to the asylum to-night or to-morrow, and you must represent him.’
‘| would represent the devil himself, if it were neces-
=) suppose that] believe him to be a patient; there is one sary, for an hour’s pleasure in your company,’ said the
Major.
‘And when the porter opens the gate you must throw yoursalf about as if insane, I will say, ‘this is the gentleman Mr. Lucas spoke about;’ so he will let us pass. without suspicion.’
‘That's well planned, my charmer!’ said the Major; ‘a woman is never at a loss fora seheme. But who is Mr. Lucas?”
‘Only one of the medical attendants.’
‘Very well.’
By this time they reached the asylum, and Ellea knocked at the gate.
‘Who have you with you ?’ said George, apparently
‘But he will complain to Dr, Millman, the proprietor, unconscious of the affair, as he opened the gate. . and we shal! Jose our sitnations, said Ellen in reply. | ‘The genueman Mr. Lucas spoke about,’ rephed ,
‘Never mind that,’ said George; ‘I'll run the risk
Ellen; ‘his malady is such that he is outrageous with
of that. We must apologise forthe mistake in the best everybody but a female.’ ‘Way we are able. Nobody will suspect it otherwise.—| , Oh, indeed?’ replied George, shutting the gate.
_iag; a number of suitors had at different times made!
/23 for your tormentor, he will be too much. ashamed to! , You are a fine fellow—don’t you think you are >
Pola lk gr 4 pate, and Renna. Pak he has) said the Major to George, as he entered, at the same a e ’ /peen au ) woman, While you will have ampie'.: ‘ ; 3 : miien Maclure, for some years, had held the situation: es J. IPN, y . P time aping the antics of a maniac. — . i of upper nurse at a lunatic asylum in the North of fre-| Serna will do? eaid FE c.:34 | ‘Very! responded George, feigning to humour bim. land. She was tall, graceful. and with all good-look-| Phat will do, said Ellen; ‘but Tam half afraid’ ~) «py King Nebuchadnezzar,’ said the Major. at alt 7 ae Se G00G-s00%- and she retired to perform her daily duty in tending! ‘Indeed-!*
‘ And was at the battle of Seringapatam.’
OR, THE CURE FOR LOVE.
; : upon the numerous patients confined in the house. overtures of matrimony to her, but were rejected; and! . ne : a ‘ | ‘Very happy to hear it.’ a porter in the same establishment, ventured to sue for wess Teduired the attendance of Ellen in town, and, a porter ul 2 Same establish: » ve ad to e I0T having mY valkein al having prepared herself for walking, she set out. hand, and will ficht you fora hap’orth of marbles.— nad noticed that, when Ellen had retu ter he , , ig? ; nekle dow ell ? Now, my man, come on, cath. atthes of gleasure or ue bat deb denen ee before her tormentor, who was a Major in the wae Joy Seine Sow wee salen a > ~ = Z , a 29, mAh A to ‘about to fight. to ber, 8 est ier Upon the subject. : ; . : . wae a g.§ { question her upon the subjec | ‘Good evening,’ said he. ‘ By all that’s lovely have| ‘Come, come,’ whispered Ellen; ‘ follow me. she entered from the road, ‘what can be the canse of, pectation of seeing your beauteous se!f.’ | wishing George to think that his quiet compliance b ‘ or ahi} . ne ; ; E . ? . + . it. , > Pe ; 6 that anxiety which I see depicted on your features every; ‘You need not have waited so long; [ am sure you|female’s voice was a feature of his malady, ‘ None bu
ell at is n . | When the ocenpation of the day was done some busi-| it was not tillafter long intimacy that George Ferrance,| ; ‘Killed eleven thousand and a-half with my own her hand, and was accepted. For some ti Jeorrte'a : e , cepted. Hor some time, \r0TS | Searcely had she proceeded beyond the precints of the : . : : noe Mai > ing to throw off his coat es ee ie ot |Army, dressed ina military braided frock-coat made up| COnUnved the Major, pretending wore an expression of anxiety, and at length resolved “My dear Elien,’ said he, addressing her one day, as} been waiting here these three hours in the anxious ex-; ‘ On the wings of love,’ returned the Major, gallantly, tiwe you return to the honse after a walk 2
ofmaking a bother about nothing 2
Pat fam sure it’s more than nothing,’ replied George,
‘or-it-would not make you so unhappy.”
» “Well, if have s sacred annoyance, it would be Mo society is the greutest happiness of my existence.’
: | ve eae oe that ones ; give yourselfa vast deal too mach trouble; besides ]/the brave!—none but the brave !—none but the a 'Oh, nothing,’ replied Ellen shortly ; what's. the use have no time to spare ; I am in a great hurry,’ -replied| deserve the fair.’
‘Ellen,
jtake her hand, ‘the trouble in seeking your enchanting
‘Now, come along, and don’t make so much noe,
‘This way, if you please,’ said Ellen, entering ® mall door. ‘There, step ia there, and don’t stir fem.
‘Celestial being! cried the Major, attempting to|King Nebuchadnezzar,’ said Ellen, aloud. ; } Is