Bob-o'-link, Bob-o'-link, Look, what a nice new còat is mine! Sure there was never a bird sò fine! 3. Robert of Lincoln's Quaker wife, Pretty and quiet, with plain brown wings, Broods in the grass while her husband sings Spink, spank, spink. Brood, kind creature; you need not fear 4. Modest and shy as a nun is she; Spink, spank, spink; Never was I afraid of mán; Catch me, cowardly knaves, if you can. 4. Six white eggs on a bed of hay, Spink, spank, spink; Nice good wife, that never goes out, 7. Soon as the little ones chip the shell, Spink, spank, spink; This new life is likely to be Hàrd for a gay young fellow like mé. 8. Robert of Lincoln at length is made Spink, spank, spink. Nobody knows but my mate and I 9. Summer wanes; the children are grown; Bob-o'-link, Bob-o'-link, Spink, spank, spink; When you can pipe that merry old strain, 5. ADAM AND EVE'S AFFECTION.-SATAN'S FLATTERY.-Milton. Now morn, her rosy steps in the Eastern clime. Thy face, and morn returned; for I this night (Such night till this, I never passed) have dreamed, LESSON L. 1. ON THE BRITISH TREATY, 1796.-Fisher Ames. If any, against all these proofs, should maintain that the peace with the Indians will be stable without the Western posts, to them I will urge another reply. From arguments calculated to produce conviction, I will appeal directly to the hearts of those who hear me, and ask whether it is not already planted there? I resort especially to the conviction of the Western gentlemen, whether, supposing no posts and no treaty, the settlers will remain in security? Can they take it upon them to say, that an Indian peace under these circumstances, will prove firm? No, sir, it will not be peace but a sword. It wil be no better than a lure to draw victims within the reach of the tomahawk. On this theme my emotions are unutterable. If I could find words for them, if my powers bore any proportion to my zeal, I would swell my voice to such a note of remonstrance that it should reach every log house I beyond the mountains. I would say to the inhabitants, Wake from your false security! your cruel dangers, your more cruel apprehensions, are soon to be renewed. The wounds, yet unhealed, are to be torn open again. In the day-time, your path through the woods will be ambushed. The darkness of midnight will glitter with the blaze of your dwellings. You | are a father, the blood of your sons shall fatten your cornfields! You are a mother, the war-whoop shall wake the sleep of the cradle ! 2. THE SAME SPEECH.-Continued. On this subject you need not suspect any deception on your feelings it is a spectacle of horror, which cannot be overdrawn. If you have nature in your hearts, they will speak a language, compared with which, all I have said, or can say, will be poor and frigid. Who will accuse me of wandering out of the subject? Who will say that I exaggerate the tendencies of our measures? Will any one answer by a sneer, that all this is idle preaching? Will any one deny that we are bound and I would hope to good purpose-by |