XIX.  HOW TO TELL BAD NEWS.

Mr. H. and the Steward.

Mr. H. Ha!  Steward, how are you, my old boy?  How do things go on at home?

Steward.  Bad enough, your honor; the magpie’s dead.

H. Poor Mag!  So he’s gone.  How came he to die?

S. Overeat himself, sir.

H. Did he?  A greedy dog; why, what did he get he liked so well?

S. Horseflesh, sir; he died of eating horseflesh,

H. How came he to get so much horseflesh?

S. All your father’s horses, sir.

H. What! are they dead, too?

S. Ay, sir; they died of overwork.

H. And why were they overworked, pray?

S. To carry water, sir.

H. To carry water! and what were they carrying water for?

S. Sure, sir, to put out the fire.

H. Fire! what fire?

S. O, sir, your father’s house is burned to the ground.

H. My father’s house burned down! and how came it set on fire?

S. I think, sir, it must have been the torches.

H. Torches! what torches?

S. At your mother’s funeral.

H. My mother dead!

S. Ah, poor lady! she never looked up, after it.

H. After what?

S. The loss of your father.

H. My father gone, too?

S. Yes, poor gentleman! he took to his bed as soon as he heard of it.

H. Heard of what?

S. The bad news, sir, and please your honor.

H. What! more miseries! more bad news!

S. Yes, sir; your bank has failed, and your credit is lost, and you are not worth a shilling in the world.  I made bold, sir, to wait on you about it, for I thought you would like to hear the news.

XX.  THE BATTLE OF BLENHEIM.

Robert Southey (b. 1774, d. 1843) was born in Bristol, England.  He entered Balliol College, Oxford, in 1793.  In 1804 he established himself permanently at Greta Hall, near Keswick, Cumberland, in the “Lake Country,” where he enjoyed the friendship and society of Wordsworth and Coleridge, other poets of the “Lake School.”  He was appointed poet laureate in 1813, and received a pension of 300 Pounds a year from the government in 1835.  Mr. Southey was a voluminous writer in both prose and verse.  As a poet, he can not be placed in the first rank, although some of his minor poems are very happy in thought and expression.  Among his most noted poetical works are “Joan of Arc,” “Thalaba the Destroyer,” “Madoc,” “Roderick,” and the “Curse of Kehama,”

1.  It was a summer evening,
     Old Kaspar’s work was done,
   And he, before his cottage door,
     Was sitting in the sun;
   And by him sported on the green,
   His little grandchild Wilhelmine.

2.  She saw her brother Peterkin
     Roll something large and round,
   Which he beside the rivulet,
     In playing there, had found;
   He came to ask what he had found,
   That was so large, and smooth, and round.