rk or any prayer of mine.
But must I die here--in my own trap caught?
Die--die? and then! Oh, mercy! Grant me time--
Thou who canst save--grant me a little time,
And I'll redeem the past--undo the evil
That I have done--make thousands happy with
This hoarded treasure--do Thy will on earth
As it is done in Heaven--grant me but time!
Nor man nor God will heed my shrieks! All's lost!

SHE WOULD BE A MASON.

ANONYMOUS.

The funniest story I ever heard,
The funniest thing that ever occurred,
Is the story of Mrs. Mehitable Byrde,
Who wanted to be a Mason.
Her husband, Tom Byrde, is a Mason true,
As good a Mason as any of you;
He is tyler of lodge Cerulian Blue,
And tyles and delivers the summons due,
And she wanted to be a Mason too--
This ridiculous Mrs. Byrde.
She followed him round, this inquisitive wife,
And nabbed and teased him half out of his life;
So to terminate this unhallowed strife,
He consented at last to admit her.
And first to disguise her from bonnet to shoon,
The ridiculous lady agreed to put on
His breech--ah! forgive me--I meant pantaloon;
And miraculously did they fit her.
The Lodge was at work on the Master's Degree;
The light was ablaze on the letter G;
High soared the pillars J. and B.;
The officers sat like Solomon, wise;
The brimstone burned amid horrid cries;
The goat roamed wildly through the room;
The candidate begged 'em to let him go home;
And the devil himself stood up in the east,
As proud as an alderman at a feast;--
When in came Mrs. Byrde.
Oh, horrible sounds! oh, horrible sight!
Can it be that Masons take delight
In spending thus the hours of night?
Ah! could their wives and daughters know
The unutterable things they say and do,
Their feminine hearts would burst with woe;
But this is not all my story,
For those Masons joined in a hideous ring,
The candidate howling like everything,
And thus in tones of death they sing
(The Candidate's name was Morey):
"Blood to drink and bones to crack,
Skulls to smash and lives to take,
Hearts to crush and souls to burn--
Give old Morey another turn,
And make him all grim and gory."
Trembling with horror stood Mrs. Byrde,
Unable to speak a single word;
She staggered and fell in the nearest chair,
On the left of the Junior Warden there,
And scarcely noticed, so loud the groans,