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indeed, had given some imperfect explanations upon this point, but as his Excellency had communicated these in a diplomatic whisper at the very moment of his departure, the celestial intellect was very feebly illuminated, and it became necessary to call a cabinet council on the grand state question : Where was the emperor to sit?' The hammercloth happened to be unusually gorgeous; and partly on that consideration, but partly also because the box offered the most elevated seat, was nearest to the moon, and undeniably went foremost, it was resolved by acclamation that the box was the imperial throne; and for the scoundrel who drove, he might sit where he could find a perch. The horses, therefore, being harnessed, solemnly his Imperial Majesty ascended his new English throne, under a flourish of trumpets, having the first lord of the treasury on his right hand, and the chief jester on his left.

Pekin gloried in the spectacle; and in the whole flowery people, constructively present by representation, there was but one discontented person, and that was the coachman. This mutinous individual audaciously shouted :

Where am I to sit?' But the privy-council, incensed by his disloyalty, unanimously opened the door, and kicked him into the inside. He had all the inside places to himself; but such is the cupidity of ambition, that he was still dissatisfied. 'I say,' he cried out, in an extempore petition, addressed to the emperor through the window-'I say,

I to catch hold of the reins ?' . Anyhow,' was the imperial answer. · Don't trouble me, man, in my glory. How catch the reins ? Why, through the windows-through the keyholes-anyhow!

Finally, this contumacious coachman lengthened the check-strings into a sort of jury-reins, communicating with

how am

the horses; with these, he drove as steadily as Pekin had any right to expect.

The emperor returned after the briefest of circuits ; he descended in great pomp from his throne, with the severest resolution never to remount it. A public thanksgiving was ordered for his majesty's happy escape from the disease of broken neck, and the stage-coach was dedicated thenceforward as a votive offering to the god Fo Fo, whom the learned more accurately called Fi Fi.



The baron sat on his castle wall,

And beheld both dale and down;
The manors that stretched so far away,

He knew to be all his own.

The warders blew their sounding horns,

And their banners waved in air;
Their horns resounded o'er the dale,

Their colours shone afar.

The baron he sighed as he looked above,

And he sighed as he looked adown;
Although the rich manors that stretched so far,

He knew to be all his own.

4. Up then arose his ancient nurse

That had borne him on her knee. And why dost thou sigh, thou noble youth,

At a sight so fair to see ?'

5. Oh! then, upspake that noble baron,

And heavily spake he, • But I've never a true and faithful wife

To share it all with me.

6. * And if I should marry a courtly dame

(Alas ! that it so should be), She'd love my castle and love my lands,

But she would not care for me.'

7. Oh! then upspake that ancient nurse

Now take advice of me: If you 'd have a true wife, then go and find

A maiden of low degree.

• And be thou disguised in plain attire,

And like a peasant rove,
But let her not know thy high degree:

So shalt thou prove her love.'

9. Then called the baron his young foot-page,

Full loudly calléd he:
The bonnie foot-page full swiftly ran,

And knelt him on his knee.

10. * Bring a peasant's coat, my young foot-page,

With hose and shoon also, And artfully disguise my face

That no one may me know.

11. And when I go, and when I come,

Let no one hear from thee; But keep my secret faithfully,

And thou shalt have gold and fee.'

12. The sunbeams gilt the distant hills,

And on the streams did play, When in a peasant's homely garb

That baron took his way.

13. The early pilgrim blithe he hailed,

That o'er the hills did stray, And many an early husbandman

That met him on his way.


The new-waked birds their matins sung

In wildly-warbling lay,
While through full many a lonely path

The baron took his way.

15. And blithe and merrily did he wend,

And blithe and merrily hied Until he came to a rural cot,

Where a maiden fair did bide.

Though lowly and unknown to fame,

This maid was passing* fair :
Like some sweet violet that in vale

Sequestered, t scents the air.

Sweet was the melody of her voice

The woodland wilds among ;
So sweet that woodwelest on the spray
Sat listening to her song.

But, more than all, her youthful heart

Was fraughts with virtue's lore :
More pure, more tender, and more true,

Was maiden ne'er before.

The maiden stood at her cottage gate,

Her nursling lambs to feed,
And she saw the blithesome stranger youth
Come tripping o'er the mead.

And lo! with many a fond excuse

The youth would there remain,
While many a wily tale he told,

Her simple heart to gain.

And soon her sighs and blushes told

She did the youth approve;
For where's the maid that can resist

The vows of faithful love?

Supremely, surpassing all others. * Thrushes.

+ Retired.


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