Nay, take the cup of blood-red wine,-- Our hearts can boast a warmer glow, Filled from a vintage more divine,-- Calmed, but not chilled by winter's snow! To-night the palest wave we sip Rich as the priceless draught shall be That wet the bride of Cana's lip,-- The wedding wine of Galilee! CHILD-LIFE BY THE GANGES. We are told--and, being philosophers, we will amuse ourselves by believing--that there are towns in India, somewhere between Cape Comorin and the Himalayas, wherein everything is _butcha_,--that is, "a little chap"; where inhabitants and inhabited are alike in the estate of urchins; where little Brahmins extort little offerings from little dupes at the foot of little altars, and ring little bells, and blow little horns, and pound little gongs, and mutter little rigmaroles before stupid little Krishnas and Sivas and Vishnus, doing their little wooden best to look solemn, mounted on little bulls or snakes, under little canopies; where little Brahminee bulls, in all the little insolence of their little sacred privileges, poke their little noses into the little rice-baskets of pious little maidens in little bazaars, and help their little selves to their little hearts' content, without "begging your little pardons," or "by your little leaves"; where dirty little fakirs and yogees hold their dirty little arms above their dirty little heads, until their dirty little muscles are shrunk to dirty little rags, and their dirty little finger-nails grow through the backs of their dirty little hands,--or wear little ten-penny nails thrust through their little tongues till they acquire little chronic impediments in their decidedly dirty little speech,--or, by means of little hooks through the little smalls-of-their-backs, circumgyrate from little _churruck_-posts for the edification of infatuated little crowds and the honor of horrid little goddesses; where plucky little widows perform their little suttees for defunct little husbands, grilling on little funeral piles; where mangy little Pariah dogs defile the little dinners of little high-caste folks, by stealing hungry little sniffs from sacred little pots; where omnivorous little adjutant-birds gobble up little glass bottles, and bones, and little dead cats, and little old slippers, and bits of little bricks, in front of little shops in little bazaars; where vociferous little _circars_ are driving little bargains with obese little _banyans_, and consequential little _chowkedars_--that is, policemen--are bullying inoffensive little poor people, and calling them _sooa-logue_,--that is, pigs;--where--where, in fine, everything in heathen human-nature happens _butcha_, and the very fables with which the little story-tellers entertain the little loafers on the corners of the little streets, are full of _little_ giants and _little_ dwarfs. Let us pursue the little idea, and talk _butcha_ to the end of this chapter.