“The second year come, and my hardor vos agin inflamed. 'Cotch me a-shootin' at crows,' says I.--Vell, avay I goes a-vhistling to myself, ven presently I see a solentary bird on the wing; 'a pariwidge, by jingo!' says I--I cocks--presents, and hits it! Hooray! down it tumbles, and afore I could load and prime agin, a whole lot o' 'em comes out from among the trees. 'Here's luck' says I; and jist shouldered my piece, ven I gets sich a vop behind as sent me at full length. “'Vot's that for?' says I. “'Vot are you a shootin' at my pigeons for?' says a great hulking, farmering-looking fellow. “A hexplanation follered; and in course I paid the damage, vich stood me a matter of a suv'rin, for he said he'd take his davy as how it vos a waluable tumbler!--I never sees a 'go' o' rum and vater but vot I thinks on it. This vos a sickener. “The third year I vos hout agin as fresh as a daisy, ven I made a haim at a sparrer, or a lark, or summit o' that kind--hit it, in course, and vos on the p'int o' going for'ard, ven lo! on turning my wision atop o' the bank afore me, I seed a norrid thing!--a serpent, or a rattle-snake, or somethink a-curling itself up and a hissing like fun! “I trembled like a haspen-leaf, and-didn't I bolt as fast as my werry legs would carry me, that's all? “Since that time I may say, with the chap in the stage-play, that my parent has kept myself, his only son, at home, for I see no sport in sich rigs, and perfer a little peace at home to the best gun in the field!”-- THE JOLLY ANGLERS. On a grassy bank, beside a meandering stream, sat two gentlemen averaging forty years of age. The day was sultry, and, weary of casting their lines without effect, they had stuck their rods in the bank, and sought, in a well-filled basket of provisions and copious libations of bottled porter, to dissipate their disappointment. “Ain't this jolly? and don't you like a day's fishing, Sam?” “O! werry much, werry much,” emphatically replied his friend, taking his pipe from his mouth. “Ah! but some people don't know how to go a-fishinq, Sam; they are such fools.” “That's a werry good remark o' your'n,” observed Sam; “I daresay as how hangling is werry delightful vhen the fishes vill bite; but vhen they von't, vhy they von't, and vot's the use o' complaining. Hangling is just like writing: for instance--you begins vith, 'I sends you this 'ere line hoping,' and they don't nibble; vell! that's just the same as not hanswering; and, as I takes it, there the correspondence ends!” “Exactly; I'm quite o' your opinion,” replied his companion, tossing off a bumper of Barclay's best; “I say, Sammy, we mustn't empty t'other bottle tho'.” “Vhy not?” “Cos, do you see, I'm just thinking ve shall vant a little porter to carry us home: for, by Jingo! I don't think as how either of us can toddle--that is respectably!”