Only look at the poor little P----’s On the roof--is there anything sadder? My dears, keep fast hold, if you please, And they won’t be an hour with the ladder! But if any one’s hot in their feet, And in very great haste to be saved, Here’s a nice easy bit in the street, That M‘Adam has lately unpaved! V. There is some one--I see a dark shape At that window, the hottest of all,-- My good woman, why don’t you escape? Never think of your bonnet and shawl: If your dress isn’t perfect, what is it For once in a way to your hurt? When your husband is paying a visit There, at Number Fourteen, in his shirt! VI. Only see how she throws out her _chaney!_ Her basons, and teapots, and all The most brittle of _her_ goods--or any, But they all break in breaking their fall: Such things are not surely the best From a two-story window to throw-- She might save a good iron-bound chest, For there’s plenty of people below! VII. O dear! what a beautiful flash! How it shone thro’ the window and door; We shall soon hear a scream and a crash, When the woman falls thro’ with the floor! There! there! what a volley of flame, And then suddenly all is obscured!-- Well--I’m glad in my heart that I came;-- But I hope the poor man is insured! [Illustration: A HARD ROW.] [Illustration: “DOES YOUR MOTHER KNOW YOU’RE OUT?”] THE WEE MAN. A ROMANCE. It was a merry company, And they were just afloat, When lo! a man, of dwarfish span, Came up and hail’d the boat. “Good morrow to ye, gentle folks, And will you let me in?-- A slender space will serve my case, For I am small and thin.” They saw he was a dwarfish man, And very small and thin; Not seven such would matter much, And so they took him in. They laugh’d to see his little hat, With such a narrow brim; They laugh’d to note his dapper coat With skirts so scant and trim. But barely had they gone a mile, When, gravely, one and all, At once began to think the man Was not so very small. His coat had got a broader skirt, His hat a broader brim, His leg grew stout, and soon plump’d out A very proper limb. Still on they went, and as they went, More rough the billows grew,-- And rose and fell, a greater swell, And he was swelling too! And lo! where room had been for seven, For six there scarce was space! For five!--for four!--for three!--not more Than two could find a place! There was not even room for one! They crowded by degrees-- Aye--closer yet, till elbows met, And knees were jogging knees. “Good sir, you must not sit a-stern, The wave will else come in!” Without a word he gravely stirr’d, Another seat to win.