REJOICE! hope dawns upon the poor; The rich man's heard our prayer; He'll open wide the garner door, And bid us come and share. He feels the bread-seed was not given Alone to swell his pride; But that GOD sent it down from heaven, For all the world beside. Wail! wail! the rich man's word has proved A syren sound alone! He looked upon the wealth he loved; And then his heart was stone! Oh, would the dull, insensate clod Give forth its yearly store, If our great FATHER and our GOD Had thought not of the poor? * * * * * A story has been for many years current, that an eccentric gentleman, of some scientific aspirations, residing on Long Island, not a thousand miles from New York, once induced a thick-set and very green Hibernian to ascend a very remarkably high and spreading tree, near his residence, accompanied by a curious nondescript flying-machine, by the aid of which he was to soar off, and float very softly down upon the bosom of mother Earth! All being ready, the aeronaut started from a platform which had been built in the topmost branches. He "_slode_" over the branches, and then "toppled down headlong" to the ground, covered with the wrecks of his scientific master's flying-machine, and making another wreck of himself. He "heard something drop," and it was a foolish Irishman! When taken up, it was found that he had broken both his arms, a leg, dislocated a shoulder, and otherwise seriously injured himself. Being long ill, at his employer's cost and charges, the "flying-machine," so signally destroyed, was considered a "_permanent_ investment." This incident, which is really true, reminds us of the story of "_The Flying Cobbler_," an old Irish story, of which we find a record preserved in "The Drawer:"