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A QUERY FOR SOL-UTION.

Is it a fact that, because Sol is the Latin for Sun, being on the Sun is therefore equivalent to being a SOLON?

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TO THE DIPLOMATISTS OF THE HUB.

Whether the Boston dip is a penny one or not, it is nevertheless scandalous.

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POEMS OF THE CRADLE.

CANTO IX.

    Rub-a-dub, dub,
    Three men in a tub,
    The Butcher, the Baker, the Candlestick-Maker,
    They all jumped into a rotten potato.

Behold the gentle Poet, now in the midst of the tumult of war.  How calmly he surveys from his elevated position the situation of the hosts and the signs of the times.  He hears the drums beat and the bugle call to arms, and his soul is filled with martial ardor.  Unable to wield the sword, he seizes his poetical pen, resolved to become the Chronicler and Historian of the war, and thus add his little mite for the improvement of future generations.  He decided that it must be characteristic, and in keeping in style with his other productions:  short, pithy, and comprehensive; simple and amusing enough for a child; deep and sarcastic enough for the most astute mind.

He begins by describing in graphic style the sounds that first struck on his ear and fired his manly soul—­the beat of the rolling drum.  Then comes a description of the terrible conflict that occurred in his native village, between the three most prominent men of the day.  This, not to be too verbose, he simply likens to being “in a tub.”

BILLY the butcher, stout, red-faced, and pugilistic, with his particular friend MARC the baker, having become jealous of the beautiful shop and immense patronage of JOHNNY the candlestick-maker, resolve to put an end to it in some way, even if they have to fight him.

That showy candlestick shop, with its gay trimmings and beautiful ornaments, open every day before their face and eyes, and attracting crowds of idlers who stand gazing in at the windows, or lounging around the doors, is a little too much for the Butcher, who in vain displays before his door the fresh-cut meat and the tempting sausage.  True, he has plenty of customers; but they come because they need what he has to sell; they come of necessity, not for pleasure.  The Baker experiences the same vexation, as he sees his loaves passed by and mockingly made light of.

They bear awhile in silent envy the annoying sight of the rollicking crowd and the joyful JOHNNY with his troop of apprentices, who have all they can possibly do to attend to their numerous customers, and who receive their broad pieces of money with a careless ease that makes the fingers of the lookers-on tingle.