sh air, and the
effect of a snug, cosy room upon the blood, the heart, the lungs, the
head, and (as I verily believe she hinted) _the temper_. I know I lost
all control of _mine_ long before she finished; but whether it was the
want of fresh air in practice, or too much of it in theory, I leave
you to imagine.

My friend always carried a small thermometer in her trunk, which she
consulted a dozen times an hour, in order to regulate the temperature
of the room. Alas for me if the quicksilver rose above 60! I devoutly
hoped she would leave it behind in some of our numerous
stopping-places, and with an eye to that possibility, I must confess,
I hung it in the most out-of-the-way corners I could find; but it
seemed to be on her mind continually. She never forgot it, and always
packed it very carefully, too. I asked her two or three times to let
me put it in _my_ trunk, where I had slyly arranged a nice little
place full of hard surfaces and sharp corners, but she always had
plenty of room.

I believe my zealous friend is now residing at the sea-shore, freezing
in the cold sea-winds, and losing her breath every morning in the
briny wave, under the strange illusion that she is improving her
health.

FAREWELL.

They tell me my hat is old!
I scarce believe it so;
But since I'm uncivilly told
The dear old thing must go,
I bid thee farewell, old hat,
Good hat!
Farewell to thee, good old hat!

I must soon to the city his,
And trudge to some horrid store,
A smart new tile to buy,
With a heart exceedingly sore,
For I cast off a long-tried friend,
A close friend,--
I'm ashamed of a trusty old friend.

Ah, let me remember with tears
The day thou wast first my own,
When I settled thee over my ears,
Then with soap-locks overgrown.
"Hurra for a beaver hat,
A sleek hat!
A cheer for a sleek beaver hat!"

That day is in memory green
Among those that were all of that hue;
Sweet days of my youth! Ah! I've seen
But too many since that were _blue_.
How smooth was our front, my hat,
My first hat!
Unbent were our brows, my first hat!

The first dent,--what a sorrow it was!
Were it only my skull instead!
Indignant I think on the cause,
And pommel my stupid head.
I was new to the care of a hat,
A tall hat,--
Unw