Llandillon Castle.

* * * * *

  Bob sick—­thought life was drawing to its end,
    His cheek grew pale, his tongue began to falter,
  Justly alarmed, he begg’d a rev’rend friend
    Would send him “a companion to the altar.”
  His friend forgot, Bob grew from worse to worse,
    (A state to which he’s always sure to alter,)
  When he received a night-cap from his nurse,
    Who thought it a companion to the halter!

* * * * *

An Irish paper, in noticing a coroner’s inquest on a young woman who had drowned herself, says, the jury, after an hour’s deliberation, brought in a verdict of wilful murder against herself.