THE GRATEFUL PATIENT.

The doctor leaned tenderly over the bed
And looked at the patient 's complexion,
And felt of the pulse and the feverish head,
Then stood for a time in reflection.
"A strange complication!
My recommendation
Is morphia by hypodermic injection."
The patient looked up with a leer in his eye
And winked in the doctor's direction—
"Well, Doc," he remarked, "since you say I must die,
I'm grateful to you for protection—
I'm now in position
To ask the commission
T' excuse me from serving as judge of election."

THE BEGINNING AND THE END.

Death
In my breath,
Cried I then:
"Men
Burn and blight!
Nourish crime!
Scale the height!
Climb, men, climb!
Climb and fight!
Win by might!
Wrong or right!
Blood!"
Well
In a cell
Here I am—
D——n!
From my flight
So sublime
I alight
Ere my time,
And in fright
Here I grope
Through the night
Without hope.
What a plight!
Ah, the rope!
Thud!

CLARE MARKET.