POETRY.

A COUNTRY POSTMAN.

road a change," figure, weather.

As on he strode beneath a load How lusty was the note he I often found a sweeter sound That day by day seemed ever Afar to herald his appearing! wound He was more punctual than the Sun Whose journeys vary with the seasons, For John was one who would not shun His duty for such paltry reasons.

Fve seen him white with driven

snow;

I've seen him like an otter dripping ; I've known him go when gales would blow Enough to wreck a fleet of shipping.

Nor did he falter when the heat Might melt the wax that sealed the letters ;

His faithful feet upon their beat Were aye a lesson to his betters.

For forty years twelve miles a day !

Compute, you are a calculator; He's trudged away I fear to say How many times round the Equator.

But John was not the man to range A yard beyond his wonted tether; How well we knew along our He thought us strange to "need Old John the postman's sturdy He had his changes in the

bigger! What lay before his narrow And from it due conclusions Ho saw with eye not super- In language sober and judicial. view

ficial, drew Not half so welcome, or so He knew the story of the squire; cheering. He knew the troubles of the peasant; And no grandsire in all the shire Had more to tell of past and present.

Ah ! not again at eve or morn Shall he bring me a friend's epistle; His trusty horn is left forlorn: The new man blows a penny whistle.

Now John, a pensioner of State, A veteran, though not of battle, Reclines his weight against a gate And meditates upon the cattle. Yet sometimes when the air is boon, To taste the fulness of his leisure, He'll don at noon his posting shoon And go the ancient round for pleasure.

L'Exvor.

So, when at last we too lay by Our letter-bags of good inten- tions, May you and I, Emeriti, As honestly have earned our pensions.

R. H. LAW.

• "Block, tronc d'arbre ; Hans, maisou ; c'est-k.dire, petit fort en boa, d'on Sit venu Le mot Blockhaus employe aujourd'hui."