Tub. I spoke with some of the sailors that escaped the wreck.

Shy. I thank thee, good Tubal;-good news, good news: ha! ha!-Where? in Genoa ?

Tub. Your daughter spent in Genoa, as I heard, one night, fourscore ducats.

Shy. Thou stick'st a dagger in me:-I shall never see my gold again. Fourscore ducats at a sitting! fourscore ducats!

Tub. There came divers of Antonio's creditors in my company to Venice, that swear he cannot choose but break.

Shy. I am very glad of it: I'll plague him; I'll torture him; I am glad of it.

Tub. One of them shewed me a ring, that he had of your daughter for a monkey.

Shy. Out upon her! Thou torturest me, Tubal: it was my torquoise: I had it of Leah when I was a bachelor: I would not have given it for a wilderness of monkeys.

Tub. But Antonio is certainly undone.

Shy. Nay, that's true, that's very true. Go, Tubal, fee me an officer, bespeak him a fortnight before: I will have the heart of him, if he forfeit; for were he out of Venice, I can make what merchandise I will. Go, go, Tubal, and meet me at our synagogue; go, good Tubal; at our synagogue, Tubal.

Our Folks.

ETHEL LYNN.

1. "Hi! Harry Holly! Halt; and tell
A fellow just a thing or two :
You've had a furlough, been to see
How all the folks in Jersey do.
It's months ago since I was there-
I, and a bullet from Fair Oaks:
When you were home-old comrade, say,
Did you see any of our folks?

You did? Shake hands; O, aint I glad?
For, if I do look grim and rough,

I've got some feelin'—

2.

"People think

A soldier's heart is mighty tough;
But, Harry, when the bullets fly,

And hot saltpeter flames and smokes,
While whole battalions lie afield,

One's apt to think about his folks.

3. "And so you saw them-when? and where ?
The old man-is he hearty yet?
And mother-does she fade at all?
Or does she seem to pine and fret
For me? And sis ?-has she grown tall?
And did you see her friend-you know

That Annie Moss

(How this pipe chokes!)

Where did you see her ?-tell me, Hal,
A lot of news about our folks.

4. "You saw them in the church--you say:
It's likely, for they're always there.
Not Sunday? no? A funeral? Who?
Who, Harry? how you shake and stare!
All well, you say, and all were out;
What ails you, Hal? Is this a hoax?
Why don't you tell me, like a man,

What is the matter with our folks?"

5. "I said all well, old comrade, true,
I say all well, for He knows best
Who takes the young ones in his arms,
Before the sun goes to the west.
The ax-man Death deals right and left,
And flowers fall as well as oaks;
And so-

6.

"Fair Annie blooms no more!
And that's the matter with your folks.
See, this brown curl was kept for you;
And this white blossom from her breast;

And here your sister Bessie wrote

A letter, telling all the rest.

Bear up, old friend."

7.

8.

Nobody speaks;

"Boys, be still;

Only the old camp raven croaks,

And soldiers whisper:

There's some bad news from Grainger's folks.”

He turns his back-the only foe

That ever saw it---on this grief,

And, as men will, keeps down the tears

Kind Nature sends to Woe's relief.

Then answers he:

"Ah, Hal, I'll try ;

But in my throat there's something chokes,
Because, you see, I've thought so long
To count her in among our folks.

9. "I s'pose she must be happy now;
But still I will keep thinking too,

I could have kept all trouble off,
By being tender, kind, and true;
But may be not.

“She's safe up there;

And when His hand deals other strokes,
She'll stand by heaven's gate, I know,
And wait to welcome in our folks."

Lasca

F. DESPREZ.

1. I want free life and I want fresh air;

And I sigh for the canter after the cattle,
The crack of the whips like shots in battle,
The mellay of horns and hoofs and heads
That wars and wrangles and scatters and spreads;
The
green beneath and the blue above,

And dash and danger, and life and love.

2. And Lasca! Lasca used to ride

On a mouse-gray mustang, close to my side,

With blue séräp and bright-belled spur;
I laughed with joy when I looked at her!
Little knew she of books or creeds;
An Ave Maria sufficed her needs;

Little she cared, save to be by my side,
To ride with me, and ever to ride,
From San Saba's shore to Lavaca's tide.
She was as bold as the billows that beat,
She was as wild as the breezes that blow;
From her little head to her little feet
She was swayed, in her suppleness, to and fro
By each gust of passion; a sapling pine,

That grows on the edge of a Kansas bluff,

And wars with the wind when the weather is rough,

Is like this Lasca, this love of mine.

She would hunger that I might eat,

Would take the bitter and leave me the sweet;
But once, when I made her jealous for fun,

At something I'd whispered, or looked, or done,
One Sunday, in San Antonio,

To a glorious girl on the Alamo,

She drew from her garter a dear little dagger,
And-sting of a wasp!-it made me stagger!
An inch to the left or an inch to the right,
And I shouldn't be maundering here to-night;
But she sobbed, and, sobbing, so swiftly bound
Her torn rebóso about the wound

That I quite forgave her.

Scratches don't count
In Texas, down by the Rio Grande.

3. Her eye was brown-a deep, deep brown;
Her hair was darker than her eye;
And something in her smile and frown,
Curled crimson lip, and instep high,
Showed that there ran in each blue vein,
Mixed with the milder Aztec strain,
The vigorous vintage of old Spain.
The air was heavy, the night was hot,
I sat by her side, and forgot—forgot;

Forgot the herd that were taking their rest;
Forgot that the air was close opprest,

That the Texas norther comes sudden and soon,
In the dead of night or the blaze of noon;
That once let the herd at its breath take fright,
And nothing on earth can stop the flight;
And woe to the rider, and woe to the steed,
Who falls in front of their mad stampede!
Was that thunder? No, by the Lord!
I spring to my saddle without a word.
One foot on mine, and she clung behind.
Away on a hot chase down the wind!
But never was fox-hunt half so hard,
And never was steed so little spared.

For we rode for our lives. You shall hear how we fared In Texas, down by the Rio Grande.

4. The mustang flew, and we urged him on;

There is one chance left, and you have but one

Halt, jump to ground, and shoot your horse;
Crouch under his carcass, and take your chance;
And if the steers, in their frantic course,
Don't batter you both to pieces at once,

You may

thank your star; if not, good-bye To the quickening kiss and the long-drawn sigh, And the open air and the open sky,

In Texas, down by the Rio Grande.

5. The cattle gained on us and then I felt
For my old six-shooter, behind in my belt;
Down came the mustang, and down came we,
Clinging together, and-what was the rest?
A body that spread itself on my breast,
Two arms that shielded my dizzy head,
Two lips that hard on my lips were pressed;
Then came thunder in my ears

As over us surged the sea of steers;
Blows that beat blood into my eyes,
And when I could rise

Lasca was dead.