Zenas Dykes.
——All the day’s a plague,
And all the people merely peace-disturbers,
They have their exits and their entrances,
And each one plays his own discordant part
Till the brain madly rages. At first the sweep,
Screeching and shouting loud his wild alarm;
Then that morning nuisance, with his basket
And tinkling muffin-bell, shouting “all ’ot”