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LINES TO A LAMB.

[The following verses are an academical exercise, composed, it is said, by a young Eton scholar.]

Pretty little tender lamb,

Skipping on the verdant mead; When you 're nicely drest, I am Very fond of you, indeed!

Soon the butcher's knife will be Drawn across your woolly throat; And for dinner I shall see

That nice dish on which I dote.

Oh! that shoulder will be sweet! Oh! those chops will be divine! But that leg will be the treat!

On it grant me, Fate, to dine!

Sauce of mint, and young green peas, With it send me to enjoy :

I shall be in ecstacies

Happy, happy, happy boy!

"And

"John, don't go out while I'm absent." "No, sir." do n't admit any one before I return." "Very well, sir." (Aside)—"W-a-l-k-e-r!"

QUIET BLISS.

A SONNET, BY ONE OF THE NEW RIVER SCHOOL.

It chanced, upon a Sunday afternoon,
That, walking through a street in Clerkenwell,
I sideways raised a casual glance, which fell
Upon a first-floor window ('twas in June
The air was mild and soft, like some sweet tune):

I halted, and my prying eyes did dwellWhy, I know not, and therefore cannot tell More than the man that dwelleth in the moonUpon a pair, there sitting face to face;

The man in shirt-sleeves,- for 't was rather hot,-
Sat conning the "Dispatch" at quiet pace;
The woman had some periwinkles got,

Which she was picking with intentive grace; And they between them had a pewter pot!

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Domestic Cookery. Dressing a Duck.

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