Or we forget the master-chord
That should rule all our song.

When shall our spirit learn again
The lay once to it given?
When shall we rise, like thee, sweet bird!
And, singing, soar to heaven?

FANNY FARMER.




DOG-SELLING EXTRAORDINARY.


Two ladies, friends of a near relative of my own, from whom I received
an account of the circumstance, were walking in Regent Street, and
were accosted by a man who requested them to buy a beautiful little
dog, covered with long, white hair, which he carried in his arms. Such
things are not uncommon in that part of London, and the ladies passed
on without heeding him. He followed, and repeated his entreaties,
stating, that as it was the last he had to sell, they should have it
at a reasonable price. They looked at the animal; it was really an
exquisite little creature, and they were at last persuaded. The man
took it home for them, received his money, and left the dog in the
arms of one of the ladies. A short time elapsed, and the dog, which
had been very quiet, in spite of a restless, bright eye, began to shew
symptoms of uneasiness, and as he ran about the room, exhibited some
unusual movements, which rather alarmed the fair purchasers. At last,