Poor bit mannikin! I never remember to have heard James so prime either on Boston or Josephus; but as his heart warmed with the liquor and the good fire, for it was a cold rawish night,--he returned to Taffy with the pigtail's master; and insisted, that as we had heard about his foreign sweetheart's death, which he appeared to have taken so much to heart, we should just bear with him once more, as he read over what he called her dirgie, which was written on a half-sheet of grey mouldy paper--as if handed down from the days of the Covenanters.

It jingles well; and both Nanse and me thought it gey and pretty; but eh! if ye only had heard how James Batter read it.

It beat cock-fighting.
DIRGE.
I.
Weep not for her!--Oh she was far too fair, Too pure to dwell on this guilt-tainted earth! The sinless glory, and the golden air Of Zion, seem'd to claim her from her birth; A Spirit wander'd from its native Zone, Which, soon discovering, took her for its own: Weep not for Her! II.
Weep not for her!--Her span was like the sky, Whose thousand stars shine beautiful and bright; Like flowers that know not what it is to die; Like long-linked, shadeless months of Polar light; Like music floating o'er a waveless lake, While Echo answers from the flowery brake: Weep not for Her! III.
Weep not for her!--She died in early youth, Ere hope had lost its rich romantic hues; When human bosoms seem'd the homes of truth, And earth still gleam'd with beauty's radiant dews.
Her summer prime waned not to days that freeze; Her wine of life was run not to the lees: Weep not for Her! IV.
Weep not for her--By fleet or slow decay, It never grieved her bosom's core to mark The playmates of her childhood wane away, Her prospects wither, or her hopes grow dark; Translated by her God with spirit shriven, She pass'd as 'twere in smiles from earth to heaven: Weep not for Her! V.
Weep not for her!--It was not hers to feel The miseries that corrode amassing years, 'Gainst dreams of baffled bliss the heart to steel, To wander sad down age's vale of tears, As whirl the wither'd leaves from friendship's tree, And on earth's wintry wold alone to be: Weep not for Her! VI.
Weep not for her!--She is an angel now, And treads the sapphire floors of paradise: All darkness wiped from her refulgent brow, Sin, sorrow, suffering, banish'd from her eyes; Victorious over death, to her appear The vista'd joys of heaven's eternal year; Weep not for Her! VII.
Weep not for her!--Her memory is the shrine Of pleasant thoughts, soft as the scent of flowers.
Calm as on windless eve the sun's decline, Sweet as the song of birds among the bowers, Rich as a rainbow with its hues of light, Pure as the moonshine of an autumn night: Weep not for Her.
VIII.
Weep not for her!--There is no cause for woe; But rather nerve the spirit that it walk Unshrinking o'er the thorny paths below, And from earth's low defilements keep thee back: So, when a few, fleet, severing years have flown, She'll meet thee at heaven's gate--and lead thee on! Weep not for Her.
Having right and law on my side, as any man of judgment may perceive with half an eye, nothing could hinder me, if I so liked, to print the whole bundle; but, in the meantime, we must just be satisfied with the foregoing curiosities, which we have picked out.

All that I have set down concerning myself, the reader may take on credit as open and even- down truth; but as to whether Taffy's master's nick-nackets be true or false, every one is at liberty, in this free country, to think for himself.

Old sparrows are not easily caught with chaff; and unless I saw a proper affidavit, I would not, for my own part, pin my faith to a single word of them.