A MAY DAY WELCOME.

171

Came roaring along quite horrid to see,
And caused the young maiden in terror to flee,
(A lion 's a creature whose regular trade is
Blood and “a terrible thing among ladies,")
And losing her vail as she ran from the wood,
The monster bedabbled it over with blood.

Now Peter arriving, and seeing the vail

All covered o'er,

And reeking with gore,
Turned, all of a sudden, exceedingly pale,
And sat himself down to weep and to wail.
For, soon as he saw the garment, poor Peter
Made up his mind in very short meter,
That Thisbe was dead, and the lion had eat her!

So breathing a prayer,

He determined to share
The fate of his darling, “the loved and the lost,"
And fell on his dagger, and gave up the ghost!

Now Thisbe returning, and viewing her beau
Lying dead by the vail (which she happened to know),
She guessed in a moment, the cause of his erring,

And seizing the knife

Which had taken his life,
In less than a jiffy was dead as a herring!

MORAL.
Young gentlemen !-pray recollect, if you please,
Not to make assignations near mulberry-trees.
Should your mistress be missing, it shows a weak head
To be stabbing yourself, till you know she is dead.
Young ladies |—you shouldn't go strolling about
When
your

anxious mammas don't know you are out;
And remember that accidents often befall
From kissing young fellows through holes in the wall!

A MAY DAY WELCOME.-THE MAY QUEEN'S SPEECH.

FRIENDS, parents, and children, merry welcome to all /
My rule is supreme in this beautiful hall ;

The happiest queen that reigns under the sun,
I command you to join in the frolic and fun!

Dear subjects, from lessons I set you all free,
Neither schoolma'am nor master dare contradict me;
And puzzling committee-men, sober and glum,
Within my dominions will never dare come.

Brave boys! from the school-room I turn you all out
To grass, like young calves, to cut capers about;
Sweet girls ! you may romp till each sunburnt cheek glows
With a color that vies with the red of the rose.

My books are the fields and the beautiful flowers,
My play grounds, the hill-sides; my school-rooms, the bowers;
The birds, my musicians; my harps, the green trees;
My scholars may laugh and play just as they please.

Ye mathematicians! no longer perplex
Your heads over uncertain values of X;
Leave your slates and your pencils, your blackboards and chalk,
And find out the worth of nonsensical talk.

Yo "old folks!" just think of your merry May-days
When you, handsome boys, joined the girls in their plays,
When plump little maidens with coquettish arts
And sweetest of glances tormented your hearts!

Dear fathers and mothers ! were not you once young ?
The sweet songs of youth—were they not by you sung?
Hearts still are the same as in good days of old,
And the same pleasant story forever is told !

The girls meet you here: with the sweetest of glances,
The toes of the boys ache to join in the dances,
And mothers ! if you do not join with us, too,
I'll tell the old tale of our fathers and you!

So young folks and old folks, join all in the fun,
The dancers are waiting, the talking is done;
And if there's a single sour fault-finder here,
We will send him off home with a flea in his ear.

MORAL RECTITUDE.

173

MORAL RECTITI'DE.-NEWTON BATEMAN.

It should be proclaimed in every school that there are original, immutable and indestrucitble maxims of moral rectitude--great lights in the firmament of the sonl—which no circumstances can affect, no sophistry obliterate; that to this eternal standard every individual of the race is bound to conform, and that by it the conduct of every man shall be adjudged. It should be proclaimed that dishonesty, frand, and falsehood are as despicable and criminal in the most exalted stations as in the most obscure, in politics as in business; that the demagogue who tells a lie to gain a vote is as infamous as the peddler who tells one to gain a penny; that an editor, who wantonly maligns an opponent for the benefit of his party, is as vile as the perjured hireling who slanders his neighbor for pay; that the corporation or the man who spawns by the thousand his worthless promises to pay, under the name of banking, knowing them to be worthless, is as guilty of obtaining money under false pretenses as the acknowledged rogue who is incarcerated for the same thing under the name of swindling; that the contractor who defrauds the Government, under cover of technicalities of the law, is as much a thief as he who deliberately and knowingly appropriates to his own use the property of another.

In a word, let it be impressed in all our schools that the vocabulary of heaven has but one word for each willful infraction of the moral code, and that no pretexts or subterfuges or sophistries of men can soften the import or lessen the guilt which that word conveys. Tell the school children that the deliberate falsifier of the truth is a liar, whether it be the prince on his throne or the beggar on his dunghill; whether it be by diplomatists for reasons of state, or by chiffoniers for the possession of the rags in the gutter. Tell them that he who obtains money or goods under false pretenses is a swindler, no more or be the man and the circumstances what they may. Tell them that he who irreverently uses the name of the Deity is a blasphemer, whether he be a Congressman or a scullion. Tell them that he who habitually drinks intoxicating liquors to excess is a drunkard, whether it be from goblets of gold in the palatial saloon, or from tin cups in a grog shop. Tell them that he who speaks lightly or sneeringly of the honor of woman is a calumniator, be his pretensions to gentility what they may. And so with the whole catalogue of vices and crimes, till the line of demarkation between good and evil shall be graven so deeply upon the mind and conscience that it can never be obliterated.

Let our public schools do this, and the life-giving influence shall be felt through every vein and artery of the body politic. A divine fire will be kindled that shall purge the foul channels of business, finance, and politics, and consume the subtle network of sophistries like stubble. Let our public schools do this, and a generation of men shall come upon the field of active life who will bring back, in the administration of public and private affairs, the purer days of the Republic--men in whom the high crimes and misdemeanors, the frauds and peculations, which now disgrace and ruin the country, shall be unknown.

PURPOSE OF THE BUNKER-HILL MONUMENT.

DANIEL WEBSTER.

We

We know, indeed, that the record of illustrious actions is most safely deposited in the universal remembrance of mankind. know, that if we could cause this structure to ascend, not only till it reached the skies, but till it pierced them, its broad surfaces could still contain but part of that, which, in an age of knowledge, hath already been spread over the earth, and which history charges itself with making known to all future times. We know, that no inscription on entablatures less broad than the earth itself can carry information of the events we commemorate, where it has not already gone; and that no structure, which shall not outlive the duration of letters and knowledge among men, can prolong the memorial.

We come, as Americans, to mark a spot, which must forever be dear to us and our posterity. We wish that whosoever, in all coming time, shall turn his eye hither, may behold that the place is not undistinguished, where the first great battle of the Revolution was fought. We wish that this structure may proclaim the

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STORY OF JOHN MAYNARD,

175

magnitude and importance of that event, to every class and every age. We wish that infancy may learn the purpose of its erection from maternal lips, and that wearied and withered age may behold it, and be solaced by the recollections which it suggests. We wish that labor may look up here, and be proud, in the midst of its toil. We wish that, in those days of disaster which, as they come on all nations, must be expected to come on us also, desponding patriotism may turn its eyes hitherward, and be assured that the foundations of our national power still stand strong.

We wish that this column, rising toward heaven, among the pointed spires of so many temples dedicated to God, may contribute also to produce, in all minds, a pious feeling of dependence and gratitude. We wish, finally, that the last object on the sight of him who leaves his native shore, and the first to gladden his who revisits it, may be something which shall remind him of the liberty and the glory of his country. Let it rise, till it meet the sun in Iris coming ; let the earliest light of the morning gild it, and parting day linger and play on its summit.

STORY OF JOHN MAYNARD.-JOHN B. GOUGH.

JOHN MAYNARD was well known in the lake district as a Godfearing, honest, and intelligent pilot. He was pilot on a steamboat from Detroit to Buffalo, óne summer afternoon—at that time those steamers seldom carried boats-smoke was seen ascending from below, and the captain called out:

Simpson, go below and see what the matter is down there." Simpson came up with his face pale as ashes, and said, “Captain, the ship is on fire.”

Then “Fire! fire! fire!" on shipboard. All hands were called up. Buckets of water were dashed on the fire, but in vain. There were large quantities of rosin and tar on board, and it was found useless to attempt to save the ship. The passengers rushed forward and inquired of the pilot :“How far are we from Buffalo ?" Seven miles."