“Well, then, _now_ surely, Bob,” said my friends to whom I showed this letter, “you cannot doubt of your success in this instance.” “No, indeed!” exclaimed I, with the usual shake of the head and accompanying smile of incredulity; “never had less expectation from any thing in my life. Don’t you see, Mr S-- _will_ be home in time, and _will_ give his powerful interest to my rival?” “Impossible, my dear sir; Mr S-- is at Carlsbad, and _cannot_ be home in less than a week. Neither steam-boat nor rail-road could enable him to accomplish such a feat.” “No, but a balloon might; and depend upon it a balloon he will take, rather than I should get the situation. This he’ll certainly do, although he knows nothing of what is going on.” * * * * * “There’s the postman, my dear,” said I with gentleness and equanimity to my wife, on the morning of the third day after the conversation above alluded to had taken place. “It is a letter from my friend Secretary Wilkins, to inform me that I have lost the situation of ----; that Mr S--, performing miracles in the way of expedition, although not impelled by any particular motive, came home just in time to support his friend and, of course, to cut me out.” It was precisely so. “My dear Sir,” began my friend’s letter, “I am truly sorry to inform you”----I read no more; not another word. It was quite unnecessary; I knew it all before. So, laying the letter gently on the table, I said with my wonted smile, “Exactly; all right!” Now, does the reader think that, in this, or in any other similar case, I gave myself the smallest uneasiness about the result? Not I, indeed--not the smallest. I expected no success, and was not therefore disappointed. C. OLD TIMES. BY J. U. U. “My soul is full of other times!” Where is that spirit of our prime, The good old day! Have the life and power of that honoured time All passed away! When old friendship breathed, and old kindness wreathed The cot and castle in kindred claim, And the tie was holy of service lowly, And Neighbour was a brother’s name, And the streams of love and charity Flowed far and wide, And kind welcome held the portal free To none denied, And blessed from far rose that kindly star The high roof o’er the well-known hall, The cordial hearth, the genial mirth-- Has Time the tyrant stilled them all! Ay, some are fallen--their courts are green; The cold calm sky Looks in on many a once-loved scene Of days gone by. And some stand on, but their lights are gone, Their manners are new and their masters strange; They know no trace of that frank old race Swept off by the tide of time and change.