sons and three daughters. The first two, a son and a daughter, died young; the others survived her. John Fleet, the youngest child, was born September 25, 1734, and died March 18, 1806. He married Elizabeth Cazneau, and had five children by her, of whom the youngest, Ann, died July 30, 1860, at the age of 89 years, being the last of the family that bore the name of Fleet.

Isaac Goose, the brother of Mrs. Fleet, and the oldest son of "Mother Goose," was a ship-joiner. He married, in 1734 or earlier, somebody named Elizabeth, of Stoughton, by whom he had several children. The last of these, a daughter, died in June, 1807, and with her the name, but not the fame, of Goose became extinct.

"PEOPLE may talk of Homer and Shakespeare, and whom they please of that class, but Mother Goose may hold up her head with the best of them. The Swan of Avon is not the only bird that has made melody for all time. See how Mother Goose has stood her ground, and survived whole generations and ages of pretenders to poetical inspiration. How many great writers have sprung up from nothing, flourished away, and sunk back to nothing, while Mother Goose has sat calmly brooding over her golden eggs of wisdom! What revolutions and overturns we have had in literature, to the utter demolition of great names and great reputations in poetry! What fluctuations between the lake school, the metaphysical school, the romantic school, the transcendental school, the nambypamby school, and the fiddle-de-dee school, sending thousands of sprouting and aspiring poets into everlasting oblivion! Amidst all these tossings and turnings, and ups and downs of popular opinion, Mother Goose has swum like a duck, and kept her glorious reputation above water."

MOTHER GOOSE'S MELODIES.

A, B, C, and D,

Pray, playmates, agree.

E, F, and G,

Well, so it shall be.

J, K, and L,

In peace we will dwell.

M, N, and O,

To play let us go.

P, Q, R, and S,

Love may we possess.

W, X, and Y,

Will not quarrel or die.

Z and amperse-and,

Go to school at command.

A cat came fiddling out of a barn,
With a pair of bag-pipes under her arm;
She could sing nothing but fiddle de dee,
The mouse has married the humble-bee;
Pipe, cat,- dance, mouse, —

We'll have a wedding at our good house.