XXXI.

When to Nevers the wicked wanderer came,
All were delighted at his quick return;
But who can paint their sorrow and their shame
When the sad truth the gentle sisters learn,
That he who left them, chanting pious verses,
Now greets his friends with horrid oaths and curses!

XXXII.

'T is said that after many bitter days

In wholesome solitude and penance passed, Ver-Vert grew meek, reformed his wicked ways, And died a hopeful penitent at last.

The moral of my story is n't deep,

66

'Young folks, beware what company you keep!"

KING SOLOMON AND THE BEES.

A TALE OF THE TALMUD.

WH

I.

HEN Solomon was reigning in his glory, Unto his throne the Queen of Sheba came, (So in the Talmud you may read the story) Drawn by the magic of the monarch's fame, To see the splendors of his court; and bring Some fitting tribute to the mighty king.

II.

Nor this alone; much had her Highness heard

What flowers of learning graced the royal specch;

What gems of wisdom dropped with every word;
What wholesome lessons he was wont to teach
In pleasing proverbs; and she wished, in sooth,
To know if Rumor spoke the simple truth.

III.

Besides, the queen had heard (which piqued her most) How through the deepest riddles he could spy;

How all the curious arts that women boast

Were quite transparent to his piercing eye;

And so the queen had come

a royal guest To put the sage's cunning to the test.

IV.

And straight she held before the monarch's view,
In either hand, a radiant wreath of flowers;
The one, bedecked with every charming hue,

Was newly culled from Nature's choicest bowers; The other, no less fair in every part,

Was the rare product of divinest Art.

V.

"Which is the true, and which the false?” she said. Great Solomon was silent. All-amazed,

Each wondering courtier shook his puzzled head,
While at the garlands long the monarch gazed,
As one who sees a miracle, — and fain,

For very rapture, ne'er would speak again.

VI.

"Which is the true?" once more the woman asked;

Pleased at the fond amazement of the king,

"So wise a head should not be hardly tasked,

Most learned Liege, with such a trivial thing!" But still the sage was silent; it was plain

A deepening doubt perplexed the royal brain.

VII.

While thus he pondered, presently he sees,

Hard by the casement,

so the story goes, —

A little band of busy, bustling bees,

Hunting for honey in a withered rose.

The monarch smiled, and raised his royal head; "Open the window!"— that was all he said.

VIII.

The window opened at the king's command;
Within the room the eager insects flew,
And sought the flowers in Sheba's dexter hand!
And so the king and all the courtiers knew
That wreath was Nature's; and the baffled queen
Returned to tell the wonders she had seen.

IX.

My story teaches (every tale should bear
A fitting moral) that the wise may find
In trifles light as atoms in the air,

Some useful lesson to enrich the mind;
Some truth designed to profit or to please, —
As Israel's king learned wisdom from the bees!

THE PIOUS BRAHMIN AND HIS NEIGH

BORS.

A

A HINDOO FABLE.

PIOUS Brahmin made a vow
Upon a certain day

To sacrifice a fatted sheep;

And so, his vow to pay,
One morning to the market-place
The Brahmin took his way.

It chanced three cunning neighbors,
Three rogues of brazen brow,
Had formed the wicked purpose
(My tale will tell you how),
To cheat the pious Brahmin,
And profit by his vow.

The leader of these cunning knaves
Went forth upon the road,
And bearing on his shoulders
What seemed a heavy load,
He met the pious Brahmin
Not far from his abode.

"What have you there?" the Brahmin said.

"Indeed," the man replies,

"I have the finest, fattest sheep,

And of the largest size;

A sheep well worthy to be slain

In solemn sacrifice!"

And then the rogue laid down his load,
And from a bag drew forth

A scurvy dog! "See there!" he cried,
"The finest sheep on earth!

And you shall have him, if you will,
For less than he is worth!"

"Wretch!" cried the pious Brahmin,
"To call a beast so mean

A goodly sheep! 'Tis but a dog
Accursed and unclean;
The foulest, leanest, lamest cur
That ever yet was seen!"

Just then the second rogue came up.
"What luck!" he said, 66 to find
So soon a sheep in flesh and fleece
Exactly to my mind!"

"A sheep?" exclaimed the Brahmin,
“Then I am surely blind!”

"You must be very blind indeed,

Or fond of telling lies,

Το

say

the beast is not a sheep!"

The cunning rogue replies;

"Go get a leech to mend your tongue, Or else to mend your eyes!"

Now while these men disputed thus,
The other rogue drew near,
And all agreed this honest man

Should make the matter clear.

"O stranger!" cried the Brahmin, "What creature have we here?"