A Review.

That sure was in the wrong , but spake Of fixed intent and purpose stony To serve King George , enlist and make Minced-meat of " Boney , " - \ Vlio yet survived—ten years at least . And sowhen she I mean came hither

, One day that need for letter ceased , She brought this with her ! Here is the leaf-stained Chapter : —Hoio The English King laid siege to Calais ; I think Gran , knows it even now , —

Go ask her , Alice . While many of us will admire the wit and pathos of the preceding happy verse , they will equally be charmed with the succeeding , though under the euphonious title of " Old Clo ' . "—

" OLD CLO ' . " " On revient toujours A ses premiers amours ! " When I called at the " Hollies " to-day , In the room with the cedar-wood presses , Aunt Deb . was just folding away - What she calls her " memorial dresses . "

She'd the frock that she wore at fifteen , — Short-wasted , of course—my abhorrence ; She'd the "loveliest "—something in " een " That she wears in her portrait by Lawrence ;

She'd the " jelick" she used—" as a Greek , " (!) She'd the habit she got her bad fall in ; She had e'en the blue " moire antique " That she opened Squire Lavender ' s ball in : —

New and old they were all of them there : — - Sleek velvet and bombazine stately , — She had hung them each over a chair To the " paniers " she ' s taken to lately

( Which she showed me , I think , by mistake ) . And I conned o ' er the forms and the fashions , Till the faded old shapes seem to wake All the ghosts of my passed-away " passions

;"—From the days of love ' s youthfullest dream , When the height of my shooting idea Was to burn , like a young Polypheme , For a somewhat , mature Galatea .

There was Lucy , who'd " tiffed " with her first , And who threw me as soon as her third came ; There was Norah , whose cut was the worst , For she told me to wait till my " berd "

came ; Pale Blanche , who subsisted on salts ; Blonde Bertha , who doted on Schiller ; Poor Amy , who taught me to waltz ; Plain Ann , that I wooed for the siller

;"—All danced round my head in a ring , Like " The Zephyrs" that somebody painted , All shapes of the sweet " she-thing "Shy , scornful , seductive , and sainted , —

To my Wife , in the days she was young . "How , Sir , " says that lady , disgusted , "Do you dare to include ME among Your loves that have faded and rusted ?" " Not at all !"—I benignly retort . ( I was just the least bit in a temper 1 )

" Those , alas ! were the fugitive sort , But you are my— " eadem semper !" Full stop , —and a Sermon . Yet think , — There was surely good ground for a quarrel , — She had checked me when just on the brink Of—I feel—a remarkable MORAL .

How very cheery and agreeable is " The Last Despatch , " n ' est ce pas ? THE LAST DESPATCH . Hurrah ! the Season ' s past at last ; At length we ' ve " done " our pleasure . Dear " Pater , " if yon only knew How much I've longed for home and you , — Our own green lawn and leisure !

And then the pets ! One half forgets The clear dumb friends—in Babel . I hope my special fish is fed ;—I long to see poor Nigra ' s head Pushed at me from the stable !

I long to see the cob and ' Rob , 'Old Bevis and the Collie ; And won't we read in " Traveller ' s Rest" Home readings after all are best;—None else seem half so "jolly ! "