I fancy we shan't be so shifty down South.
No, really there's not the least call to be nettled,
Or down in the mouth.
I'll take my umbrella,—a useful possession,
Yes, even in summer with wind in the east.
But this—oh! it's merely a "local depression";—
I hope so, at least!
THE HAZARD OF A—DYE.
Supposing that when our soldiers and sailors were armed with worthless bayonets and useless cutlasses, a war had broken out.