and many people, contrary to the
law, collect those that have already been thrown.--_Burckhardt's
Travels_.
* * * * *
THE GATHERER.
A snapper up of unconsidered trifles.
SHAKSPEARE.
* * * * *
THE COACHMAN.
The moment he has got his seat and made his start, you are struck at once
with the perfect mastership of his art. The hand just over his left
thigh, the arm without constraint, steady, and with a holding command
that keeps his horses like clock-work; yet to a superficial observer
quite with loose reins; so firm and compact he is, that you seldom
observe any shifting, only to take a shorter purchase for a run down
hill; his right hand and whip are beautifully in unison; the crop, if not
in a direct line with the box, over the near wheel, raised gracefully up
as it were to reward the near side horse; the thong--the thong after
three twists, which appears in his hand to have been placed by the maker
never to be altered or improved ...... and if the off-side horse becomes
slack, to see the turn of his arm to reduce a twist, or to reverse, if
necessary, is exquisite: after being _placed under the rib_, or upon the
shoulder point, up comes the arm, and with it the thong returns to the
elegant position upon the crop! I say elegant! the stick, highly polished
yew--rather light--not too taper--yet elastic; a thong in clean order,
pliable. All done without effort--merely a turn of the wrist!
* * * * *
At twelve o'clock at noon, on the day before Easter, the resurrection
service begins at the Quirinal Chapel at Rome; when a curtain is drawn
back, which conceals a picture of our Lord: bells ring, drums are beaten,
guns are fired, and joy succeeds to mourning.
* * * * *
ACROSTIC ON "THE MIRROR."
MIRROR! methinks your name indeed is true
In every other point, except that you,
Resplendent with the wisdom of mankind,
Reflect not to the _sight_, but to the _mind_.
Oh! may success then to your pains accrue,
Rewarding all your merit with its due.
D.
* * * * *
LOVE.
Love reigns the lord of every mortal heart;
He wounds the beggar, wounds the king,
And is the fairest, falsest thing,
That e'er excited joy, or bade a bosom smart.
Light as the wind, rough as the wave,
He's both a tyrant and a slave;
A fire that
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