garments that he wears about the town were put on thousands of years
ago, and have been patched and pieced to suit the present fashion.
There is nothing new in him nor about him. Were he to die while I am
speaking, we could not pronounce it an untimely death. Methinks, with
his heavy heart and weary brain, Time should himself be glad to die.

Meanwhile, gentle patrons, as Time has brought round another New Year,
pray remember your poor petitioner. For so small a lad, you will agree
that I talk pretty passably well, and have fairly earned whatever spare
specie Time has left in your pockets. Be kind to me; and I have good
hope that Time will he kind to you. After all the hard things which I
have said about him, he is really,--that is, if you take him for neither
more nor less than he is worth, and use him as not abusing him,--Time is
really a very tolerable old fellow, and may be endured for a little
while that we are to keep him company. Be generous, kind patrons, to
Time's errand-boy. So may he bring to the merchant his ship safe from
the Indies; to the lawyer, a goodly number of new suits; to the doctor,
a crowd of patients with the dyspepsia and fat purses; to the farmer, a
golden crop and a ready market; to the mechanic, steady employment and
good wages; to the idle gentleman, some honest business; to the rich,
kind hearts and liberal hands; to the poor, warm firesides and food
enough, patient spirits, and the hope of better days; to our country, a
return of specie payments; and to you, sweet maid, the youth who stole
into your dream last night! And next New Year's Day (if I find nothing
better to do in the mean while) may Time again bring to your doors your
loving little friend,
THE CARRIER.