I've sent the learned Doctor Trepan To feel Sir Hubert's broken kneepan; 'Twill rout doctor's seven senses To find Sir Hubert charging fences! I've sent a sallow parchment scraper To put Miss Trim's last will on paper; He'll see her, silent as a mummy, At whist with her two maids and dummy. Man of brief, and man of pill, They will take it very ill; If they care for what I say, They are April fools to-day. And then to her, whose smiles shed light on My weary lot last year at Brighton, I talk of happiness and marriage, St. George's and a travelling carriage. I trifle with my rosy fetters, I rave about her 'witching letters, And swear my heart shall do no treason Before the closing of the season. Thus I whisper in the ear Of Louisa Windermere-- If she cares for what I say, She's an April fool to-day. And to the world I publish gaily That all things are improving daily; That suns grow warmer, streamlets clearer, And faith more firm, and love sincerer-- That children grow extremely clever-- That sin is seldom known, or never-- That gas, and steam, and education, Are, killing sorrow and starvation! Pleasant visions--but, alas How those pleasant visions pass! If you care for what I say, You're an April fool to-day. Last, to myself, when night comes round me, And the soft chain of thought has bound me, I whisper, "Sir, your eyes are killing-- You owe no mortal man a shilling-- You never cringe for star or garter, You're much too wise to be a martyr-- And since you must, be food for vermin, You don't feel much desire for ermine!" Wisdom is a mine, no doubt, If one can but find it out-- But whate'er I think or say, I'm an April fool to-day, _London Magazine_. * * * * * "WATER BEWITCHED." A widow of the name of Betty Falla kept an alehouse in one of the market-towns frequented by the Lammermuir ladies, (Dunse, we believe,) and a number of them used to lodge at her house during the fair. One year Betty's ale turned sour soon after the fair; there had been a thunder-storm in the interim, and Betty's ale was, as they say in that country, "strongest in the water." Betty did not understand the first of these causes, and she did not wish to understand the latter. The ale was not palatable; and Betty brewed again to the same strength of water. Again it thundered, and again the swipes became vinegar. Betty was at her wit's end,--no long journey; but she was breathless.