That else had sile_l_t bee_l_.
But _B_ary A_ll_e, like darkest _l_ight,
O_l_ be, alas! looks dow_l_;
Her s_b_iles o_l_ others bea_b_ their light,
Her frow_l_s are all _b_y ow_l_.
I've but o_l_e burthe_l_ to _b_y so_l_g--
Her frow_l_s are all _b_y ow_l_.

* * * * *


"POSSUM UP A GUM TREE!"

A grand gladiatorial tongue-threshing took place lately in a field near
Paisley, between the two great Chartist champions--Feargus O'Connor and
the Rev. Mr. Brewster. The subject debated was, Whether is moral or
physical force the fitter instrument for obtaining the Charter? The Doctor
espoused the moral hocussing system, and Feargus took up the bludgeon for
physical force. After a pretty considerable deal of fireworks had been let
off on both sides, it was agreed to divide the field, when Feargus, waving
his hat, _ascended into a tree_, and called upon his friends to follow
him. But, alas! few answered to the summons,--he was left in a miserable
minority; and the Doctor, as the Yankees say, decidedly "put the critter
up a tree." Feargus, being a _Radical_, should have kept to the _root_
instead of venturing into the higher _branches_ of political economy. At
all events the Doctor, as the Yankees say, "put the critter up a tree,"
where we calculate he must have looked tarnation ugly. The position was
peculiarly ill-chosen--for when a fire-and-faggot orator begins to speak
_trees-on_, it is only natural that his hearers should all take their
_leaves_!