not cowardice--it was the singular resemblance which he bore to my wicked master. That alone saved him from a hearty shaking. But he shall not long escape. No; I am in the daily habit of walking up and down Sackville Street, in hopes of meeting with him, when, old as I am, I shall manage to make my teeth, or rather their stumps, acquainted with his calves. I could not, on my return to the turf bog, find my master; and as I was on the road to look for him, I met with an old beggarman, who coaxed me over to him, regaled me with a crust, and in short exhibited so kindly a disposition, that, not feeling myself bound to my late owner by similar ties which had linked my destiny with that of him who had rescued me from the horsepond, I resolved I would seek after him no further, but join company with the good-hearted old beggarman--the same, doubtless, so irreverently spoken of by the “Man” in his ill-natured paper--(oh! that I had him by the leg this moment!) I did not, however, remain long with him, for he was taken up by an overfed bloated-looking variety of his species and lodged in prison, for no fault but that involuntary one of being poor; and as I would not be permitted to share his confinement, I wandered forth, and soon met with another master. Thus going from one to another--now feasting, now enduring the most agonizing hunger, now received with kindness, now with blows--passed away the next five or six years of my superannuated being. I longed to know what had become of my master, ruffian as he was, and my wanderings had for their object the discovery of his abode. For several years I roamed unsuccessfully: no traces of him could I perceive; his ancient haunts had all been abandoned; his former companions unvisited. At length, coming one morning into a country town, I observed an unusual bustle in the streets; great multitudes of people hurrying along; and, what surprised me most, all in one direction. Determined to see what this meant, I followed the stream, and presently came to an open place, crowded with people of all sorts and sizes. Making my way onward amongst their feet, though not without many a bitter curse and hearty kick, I arrived at a singular wooden erection, like a signpost, with a rope hanging from it, and underneath a cart with three men in it. I uttered a yelp of joy, for in one of the three I recognised my long-lost master! To join him was of course my immediate impulse, and I accordingly sprang into the cart, but was rudely hurled out of it by one of the other men; and ere I could repeat my attempt, the vehicle moved away, the wheel passing over my body, and breaking three of my ribs. I looked again. I saw a human figure swinging in the wind--a single convulsive struggle of the legs, and all was over. It was my master--he died the same death that had been inflicted upon my mother. “Well,” thought I, “I shall never again express my wonder that men should be so fond of hanging us, for I now perceive