orative of the principal events of the history of that people. The original, in the Chaldee language, is known to scholars; and, as it may not be uninteresting to my readers, I will furnish the literal translation, which is as follows:

the Ox, That drank the Water, That quenched the Fire, That burned the Staff, That beat the Dog, That bit the Cat, That ate the Kid, That my Father bought for two pieces of money.

A Kid, a Kid.

two pieces of money.

A Kid, a Kid.

killed the Butcher, That slew the Ox, That drank the Water, That quenched the Fire, That burned the Staff, That beat the Dog, That bit the Cat, That ate the Kid, That my Father bought for two pieces of

money.

A Kid, a Kid.

Then came the Holy One, blessed be He!

Father

10.

9.

And killed the Angel of Death,

8.

That killed the Butcher,

7.

5. Then came the Fire, And burned the Staff, That beat the Dog, That bit the Cat, That ate the Kid, That my Father bought for two pieces of money. A Kid, a Kid. 6. Then came the Water, And quenched the Fire, That burned the Staff, That beat the Dog, That bit the Cat, That ate the Kid, That my Father bought for two pieces of money.

A Kid, a Kid. 7. Then came the Ox, And drank the Water, That quenched the Fire, That burned the Staff, That beat the Dog, That bit the Cat, That ate the Kid, That my Father bought for two pieces of money. A Kid, a Kid.

That slew the Ox,

6. That drank the Water,

5. That quenched the Fire, 4. That burned the Staff, 3. That beat the Dog, 2. That bit the Cat,

1.

That ate the Kid that Father
my
bought for two pieces of money.
A Kid, a Kid.

The following is the interpretation: 1. The Kid, which was, among the the Hebrews. The Father by whom Jews, one of the pure animals, denotes it was purchased is Jehovah, who is represented as sustaining this relation to the Hebrew nation. The two pieces of money signify Moses and Aaron, through whose mediation the Hebrews were brought out of Egypt.

2. The Cat denotes the ancient Assyrians, by whom the ten tribes were carried into captivity.

3. The Dog is symbolical of the ancient Babylonians.

5. The Fire indicates the Grecian empire, under Alexander the Great.

6. The Water betokens the Romans, or the fourth of the great monarchies, to whose dominion the Jews were subjected.

7. The Ox is a symbol of the Saracens, who subdued Palestine and brought it under the Caliphs of Bagdad.

8. The Butcher, that killed the Ox, denotes the Crusaders, by whom the

9. The Angel of Death signifies the Turkish power, by which the land of Palestine was taken from the Crusaders, and to which it is still subject.

10. The commencement of the 10th stanza is designed to show, that God will take signal vengeance on the Turks, immediately after whose overthrow the Jews are to be restored to their own land, and to live under the government of the long-expected Messiah.

CHAPTER I.

INTRODUCTION.

I AM inclined to think, that, among the various pleasures of life, talking is one of the greatest. Eating and drinking are very good things, especially when one is hungry and thirsty, and has a good meal before him. But they are very short in their duration. The heartiest supper is over in a few minutes, and drinking, in as many seconds. Beside, these are selfish pleasures, and afford

only the single satisfaction of an immediate appetite. But talking is not confined to self, nor is it limited to the body. It exercises the mind, and extends alike to the speaker and the listener.

The love of talking exhibits itself in very infancy. The little prattler, even before he can speak words, tries to amuse you with his inarticulate gabble. And when he has learned a word, with what glory does he repeat it to you! A young soldier touches off a cannon with

less exultation than the infant pronounces his first articulate syllable.

And then, look at a group of children! How eager are they to speak to each other! How their little tongues rattle! Sometimes all will speak at once, whether anybody listens or not. It is often hard to get a word in edgewise among such a set of orators.

Suppose some child has been away, and comes home with a piece of news. How does he rush into the room, scarce ly taking time to hang up his hat or cap, and with staring eyes and ruddy cheeks, set forth the wondrous tale! Suppose a child has seen something new, as a lion or an elephant; how does he talk of it to his companions! Or, suppose he has been rambling in the woods, and has seen an eagle, or a gray squirrel, or a woodchuck,-something he had never seen before,-how eager is he to talk about it!

Thus it is with the young; they love to talk of things that interest them; and thus it is with those who have passed from the morning of life toward its set ting sun. It may be that old people are less talkative than young ones; but still we all love to speak to others of that which excites our own feelings, or occupies our minds. Talking, then, is one of the great pleasures of life, and God has no doubt made it so for good and wise purposes. How large a portion of the happiness of life would be cut off, if we were all dumb!

For myself, I was a great rattler in youth, and, even now that my hair is grizzled with years, I must confess that I am not greatly altered in this respect. My life has been a varied one, and I have seen a good deal of the world. I cannot pretend to be so great a traveller as Peter Parley, nor can I match him in telling stories to babies. But still,

give me a good listener, and something to speak about, and I can talk from sunrise to sunset.

I love better to talk to youth than to others. Those who are from eight to sixteen years old, are my chosen friends. I always find some way of entertaining them. Several bright-eyed girls and boys are in the habit of coming to see me, and I tell them my long stories. They come again and again, and I infer that they are pleased with them. I tell them sometimes of giants and fairies; but it is curious, that, while most young people prefer these tales of fancy, I succeed much better in pleasing my listeners by talking to them about things that really exist, or have really happened. Truth, after all, is more attractive than fiction, if it is only dressed in a proper guise.

My own adventures seem to give my listeners the most pleasure; for I have been all over the United States; have been a soldier, and seen service; have been a pedler, and travelled thousands of miles on foot; have met with strange accidents and hairbreadth escapes from danger; and have had my share of what is called hard luck. Still, I have reason to thank Heaven that my heart is happy, and my mind cheerful. I love sunshine as well as when I was a boy, and see much more occasion to laugh than to cry. I have indeed my serious moods, for there are some subjects that demand seriousness and reverence. Religion claims some of our time, and much of our thought. The Sabbath is with me a day of solemn reflection and prayer. I bend over the Bible, with a feeling that I am listening to the voice of God. These things make me serious, but not sad. As the sun seems to shine brighter, when it comes out from a cloud, so my heart is ever more serene

and cheerful, for its communion with holy things.

But this is enough for an introduction. I am now going to tell the story of my own life, which I hope may prove both amusing and instructive.

CHAPTER II.

About my Birth.-The Death of my Parents.— My first Journey.-My Wonder at seeing the Country.-Lambs.-I find out where Milk comes from.-Reflections and good Advice.

I was born in the city of New York, in the year 1790. My parents were both English people. At first, they were in poor circumstances, but my father became a merchant, and acquired some property. He died, however, in the midst of success; and in a few months after my mother followed. I was thus left an orphan, at the age of six years, but with a fortune of about ten thousand dollars.

My mother had a brother living in the small town of Salem, situated upon the eastern border of the State of New York, and touching the line of Connecticut. He kept a tavern; and, as it was upon the great road that was then the route between Boston and New York, he had a good situation and a thriving business.

To the care of this uncle I was committed by my mother's will, and immediately after her death I was taken to my uncle's residence. I had never been out of the city of New York, and had never seen the country. I had supposed the world one great city, and never fancied that there were hills, and forests, and rivers, and fields without any houses. I still remember my journey from New York to Salem very well. I remember that the sight of so many new things,

put the recollection of my father and my mother out of my mind, and banished the sorrow I had felt at seeing my parents laid into the coffin, and carried away, to return to me no more. I was delighted at everything I met, and particularly remember some lambs that I saw playing on a hill-side. They were scampering about, jumping from rock to rock, and chasing each other at full speed. I had never seen a lamb before, and I thought these the prettiest creatures that were ever made. I have since seen lions and tigers, and many other strange creatures; but I have never met with any animal, that excited in me half the admiration that I felt when I saw those little lambs.

I suppose some of my young friends in the country will laugh at what I am now going to tell them; but it is nevertheless true. As I was going from New York to Salem, we stopped one night at a small inn. When we arrived at this place, the sun was an hour high, and I had some time to play about the house. As I was running around, peeping at every new and strange thing, I saw some cows in the barn-yard. I had seen cows before, but still I went up to the gate and looked through, and there I saw a woman, sitting upon a little stool, and milking one of the cows. Now I had never seen a cow milked before, nor, indeed, did I know where milk came from. I had not thought about it at all. If I had been asked the question, I should probably have said, that we got milk as we do water, by pumping it from the cistern, or drawing it out of the well.

I looked at the woman for some time, wondering what she could be about. When she had done, she came out of the yard, and I saw that her pail was full of milk. "What is that that you

I.

have got?" said I. "It is milk," said the woman. "Where did you get it?" said 66 I got it from the cow, you little simpleton!" said the woman; and then she went into the house.

I did not like to be called a simpleton, for I had come all the way from the great city of New York, and supposed that I knew everything. I soon found, however, that I was ignorant of many useful things that children of my age in the country were well acquainted with. The little incident, however, that I have just related, was not without its use to me. It set me thinking about other things, and I began to ask questions about every article of food and dress, where they came from, and how they were made; and, in this way, I obtained a great deal of knowledge. I would recommend it to my young readers to follow my example in this respect. They will find it very amusing to.study into these matters. Let them one day inquire about hats, what they are made of, where the materials come from, how they are obtained, and how they are wrought into hats. Another day, let them take up the subject of coats, and learn all about the cloth, the buckram, silk, twist, and buttons, that are used in making them. So let them go through with dress; and then they may inquire about bread, and other articles of food; and then they may learn all about the furniture in the house. From this subject, they may go on and learn how houses are built. I can assure my young readers, that, in this way, they may spend their time very pleasantly, and become well acquainted with all those useful things with which we are surrounded. If I had done this before I went to Salem, I should have known where milk came from, and not been called simpleton by a milkmaid.

CHAPTER III.

Wise Observations.-Story of the Hat.

I FANCY that some of my readers imagine, that it would be a dull business to study into the history of hats and coats, bread and butter, and such other common-place things. But there is an old proverb which says, "Look ere you leap ;" and another which says, "Think twice and speak once." These admonish us never to be over-hasty in speaking or acting; and, on the present occasion, I shall endeavor to show, that this good rule has been transgressed by those who despise my advice about hats and coats, bread and butter.

Here, Philip! give me a hat; let it speak for itself. Come, old hat, tell us your story! tell us what you are made of; where the materials of which you are made were obtained, how they were put together, and the price at which you were sold. Come, old beaver, speak out! What! dumb? Not a word? Then I will speak for you. So here is

THE STORY OF THE HAT, SUPPOSED TO BE TOLD BY ITSELF.

"I am made partly of wool, which is the hair of sheep, and partly of furs, of different kinds. There is some beaver's fur, some musquash's, and some wildcat's in me.

"I suppose that everybody knows how we get wool, by shearing it from the sheep's back; but we do not get furs in the same way. Musquashes, beavers, and wildcats are not tame, like sheep, and they will not let you take them into a barn, and shear off their nice, soft fur. These creatures live far away from the abodes of men; they seek the distant solitudes beyond the hills and mountains, and those who