Darksome maydes of work all;
And mony felaws of much might
Ydrink the hades of ye Knight
Of ye grete Golden Cyrcle.
We much fear that it may be said of the chief cavalier of the Golden Circle, what the old German lanzknecht, in Rabelais, said of the Gascon adventurer: 'The knight pretends that he wants to fight, but is much more inclined to steal; therefore, good people, look out for your property.'
* * * * *
The following story, it is averred, can be vouched for, to any reasonable extent, by a large crowd of witnesses.
DEAR CONTINENTAL: Possibly you would not give 'a Continental dime' for that which I am about to pen. Possibly, too, you may damn it into the waste-basket. I have often heard of a 'Continental damn'—it never occurred to me before what the article really was. Dante has, I know, provided a corner for those who were in-continentally condemned; but it was reserved for you to abridge the word, and so make a vice of a virtue!
I once lived in a village: to that village came an itinerant dramatic company; and that company advertised to play a grand moral temperance drama, entitled Down the Hill.
The principal actor called himself Eglantine Mowbray. I believe that the latter syllable of the last name was the only portion thereof to which he was really entitled. He did bray.