Phlute, phlewt, phlewght,
And the tootle, tootle, tooting of its toot.
American Paper.
——:o:——
The Office Boy’s Mother in America.
“Bells, bells, bells, bells, bells!”
How their clashing, and their clanging, all thought of peace dispels!
Oh, well might Edgar Allan Poe—or any other poet, born in American clime—
Adopt the bells, the ceaseless bells, as subject for his rhyme.
From early morn, till dewy eve, their clamour resounds loud and long,