attention gave displeasure, and perhaps brought down a smart jest, as on the following occasion:--A jolly dame who, not "sixty years since," kept the principal caravansary at Greenlaw, in Berwickshire, had the honour to receive under her roof a very worthy clergyman, with three sons of the same profession, each having a cure of souls; be it said in passing, none of the reverend party were reckoned powerful in the pulpit. After dinner was over, the worthy senior, in the pride of his heart, asked Mrs. Buchan whether she ever had had such a party in her house before. "Here sit I," he said, "a placed minister of the kirk of Scotland, and here sit my three sons, each a placed minister of the same kirk.--Confess, Luckie Buchan, you never had such a party in your house before." The question was not premised by any invitation to sit down and take a glass of wine or the like, so Mrs. B. answered drily, "Indeed, sir, I cannot just say that ever I had such a party in my house before, except once in the forty-five, when I had a Highland piper here, with his three sons, all Highland pipers; _and deil a spring they could play amang them!"--Notes to the New Edition of the Waverley Novels_. * * * * * CATCHING TIGERS. In some parts of South America, a great many tigers are caught with the lasso by the Indian and Creole inhabitants for the sake of their skins. They are also sometimes entrapped in the following manner: a large chest, or wooden frame, is made, supported upon four wheels, and is dragged by oxen to a place where the traces of tigers have been discovered. In the furthest corner of the chest is put a putrid piece of flesh, by way of bait, which is no sooner laid hold of by the tiger than the door of the trap falls; he is killed by a musket ball, or a spear thrust through the crevices of the planks.--_Memoirs of General Miller_. * * * * * ODE. (_From the Persian_.) The joys of love and youth be mine, The cheerful glass, the ruby wine, The social feast, the merry friend, And brimming goblets without end. The maid whose lips all sweets contain, The minstrel with bewitching strain, And, by my side, the merry soul Who briskly circulates the bowl! A maiden full of life and light, Like Eden's fountains pure and bright; Whose sweetness steals the heart away, Mild, beauteous, as the moon of May. A banquet-hall, the social room, Cool, spacious, breathing rich perfume, Like that fair hall where, midst the roses, Each saint in heaven above reposes! Servants in briskness who excel, Friends who can keep a secret well, And merry men who love their lass, And drink your health in many a glass. Wine, sparkling like the ruby bright, Neither too sweet, nor yet too light; One draught from purple wine we'll sip, And one from beauty's rosy lip!