Of war and quarrels and bloodshed,
All mischief, be what it may :
And pray, then, why do you marry us,
If we're all the plagues you say?

And why do you take such care of us,
And keep us so safe at home,
And are never easy a moment,
If ever we chance to roam?

When you ought to be thanking Heaven
That your Plague is out of the way—
You all keep fussing and fretting-
"Where is my Plague to-day?"

If a Plague peeps out of the window,
Up go the eyes of the men ;
If she hides, then all keep staring,
Until she looks out again.

Aristophanes. Trans. by Rev. W. Lucas Collins, M.A.

DROLL QUESTIONS.

WE are tolerably familiar with the kind of out-door sports and pastimes of our ancestors in the olden time, but very little is known as to how they managed to get through the time when the inclemency of the weather precluded such exercises. It is true, the halls of the great were frequented by the ever-welcome wandering minstrels, or harpers, who entertained their noble and gentle patrons with recitations of metrical romances, and chanting "thrilling" tales of enchanted castles, fierce giants, doughty knights, and ladies of high degree, and who also related such items of news as they had gathered in the course of their travels throughout the country; but how the humbler sort of people spent the long winter evenings, before the invention of printing placed books within their reach, has not been discovered. It is conjectured that the telling of stories, more or less legendary, and dealing largely with the supernatural, and asking each other what were thought to be difficult questions,-or posers, as we should call them,—probably formed their principal and favourite fireside amusements. Some notion of the kind of questions on which our ancestors were wont to exercise their wits is afforded by a sort of riddle-book, entitled "Demands Joyous," which was printed by Wynkyn de Worde, in 1511, and from which are selected the following "demands" and responses" :

Dem. What bore the best burden that was ever borne ?

Res. The ass that carried our Lady, when she fled with our Lord into Egypt.

Dem. What became of that ass?

Res. Adam's mother ate her.

Dem. Who was Adam's mother?

Res. The earth.

Dem. How many calves' tails would it take to reach from the earth

to the sky?

Res. No more than one, if it be long enough.

Dem. What is the distance from the surface of the earth to the deepest part thereof?

Res. Only a stone's throw.

Dem. What is it that never was and never will be?

Res. A mouse's nest in a cat's ear.

Dem. Why do men make an oven in a town?

Res. Because they cannot make a town in an oven.

Dem. How may a man discern a cow in a flock of sheep?
Res. By his eyesight.

Dem. Why doth a cow lie down?

Res. Because it cannot sit.

Dem. What is it that never freezeth?

Res. Boiling water.

Dem. How many straws go to a goose's nest?

Res. Not one; for straws not having feet, cannot go anywhere. Dem. Who killed the fourth part of all the people in the world? Res. Cain, when he killed Abel.

Dem. What man getteth his living backwards?

Res. A ropemaker.

Dem. Which are the most profitable saints of the church?

Res. Those painted on the glass windows, for they keep the wind from wasting the candles.

Dem. Who were the persons that made all, and sold all; that bought all, and lost all ?

Res. A smith made an awl and sold it to a shoemaker, who lost it. Dem. Why doth a dog turn round three times before he lieth down?

Res. Because he knoweth not his bed's head from the foot thereof. Dem. What is the worst bestowed charity that one can give? Res. Alms to a blind man; for he would be glad to see the person hanged that gave it to him.

WHOLESOME ADVICE.

I.

LIKE a fool, when near manhood, I got sick of home,
And, to better my state, was determined to roam;
As my father from evils was anxious to save me,
This wholesome advice, ere I left him, he gave me :
At first setting out, boy, be frugally bent,

For 'tis too late to spare, when, alas! all is spent ;

And old age soon will come; so before youth declines,

You must strive to "make hay while the sun brightly shines."

II.

If you'd avoid troubles, and live without wrath,
Be sure "cut your coat as it best suits your cloth."
Ne'er be like to those men who themselves so enthral,
Nor like some, who "rob Peter to pay it to Paul.”

Be not (if with good sense you'd always appear)

Penny wise and pound foolish," as too many are ; And take care not to say what you're told you should not, For all will allow, 66 a fool's bolt is soon shot."

III.

If wisely you'd act, when ill-treated you are,

"Ne'er seek that by foul means which should be by fair;”
Nor insult any one, lest you meet with your match,
For "he who harm watches will often harm catch.”
Think not all are friends though they seem you to prize,
For, "if daubed with honey, you ne'er will want flies :"
But should fortune frown, you'll be left e'en to chance,
For " 'tis no longer pipe, alas! no longer dance."

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IV.

If a man's kind to you, be to him a kind brother,
For surely one good turn's deserving another;"
But if men are ungrateful with wine never treat 'em,
Nor "fool-like make feasts for wise men to eat 'em."
If employment you want, ne'er stand idle about,
You had best play a small game than stand wholly out;
But if you prefer the pure gold to the dross,
Remember, "the rolling stone gathers no moss."

ON A DEAF HOUSEKEEPER.
[Paraphrased from the Greek. Anonymous.]
Of all the plagues I recommend to no man
To hire as a domestic a deaf woman.

I've got one who my orders does not hear,-
Mishears them rather, and keeps blundering near.
Thirsty and hot, I asked her for a drink,

She bustled out and brought me back some ink.
Eating a good rump steak, I called for mustard,
Away she went and whipped me up a custard.
I wanted with my chicken to have ham,
Blundering once more she brought a pot of jam.
I wished in season for a cut of salmon,

And what she brought me was a huge fat gammon.
I can't my voice raise higher and still higher,
As if I were a herald or town crier.
"Twould better be if she were deaf outright;
But, anyhow, she quits my house this night.

CURIOUS EPITAPHS AND EPIGRAMS.

ON A MAN AND HIS WIFE.

HERE lies the man Richard,
And Mary his wife;

Their surname was Prichard.
They lived without strife;
And the reason was plain-

They abounded in riches,
Nor care had, nor pain,

And the wife wore the breeches.-Anon.

WHEN Elizabeth died, O Lord, prayed I,
Let me die too, and beside her lie.

The Lord was good, and heard my prayer,
And here we lie, a faithful pair.-Anon.

HE first deceased; she for a little tried

To live without him, liked it not, and died,-Wotton.

ON A YOUNG LADY.

UNDERNEATH this stone doth lie
As much virtue as could die ;
Which, when alive, did vigour give

To as much beauty as could live.-Ben Jonson.

ON A SCOLDING WOMAN.

HERE lies, thank God, a woman who
Quarrelled and stormed her whole life through;
Tread gently o'er her mouldering form,

Or else you'll rouse another storm.

ON A MISER.

HERE lies old father Gripe, who never cried " Jam Satis," 'Twould wake him did he know you read his tomb-stone gratis,

AT CHELTENHAM.

HERE lie I and my three daughters,

Killed by drinking the Cheltenham waters;
If we'd stuck to Epsom salts,

We shouldn't have been lying in these here vaults.

ON AN EASY-GOING COUPLE.
INTERRED beneath this marble stone,
Lie sauntering Jack and idle Joan;
While rolling threescore years and one
Did round this globe their courses run.
If human things went ill or well,
If changing empires rose or fell,
The morning past, the evening came,
And found this couple still the same.

They walked and ate—good folks, what then?
Why then they walked and ate again!

They soundly slept the night away,
They did just nothing all the day.
Without love, hatred, joy, or fear,
They led a kind of-as it were:

Nor wished, nor cared, nor laughed, nor cried,—
And so they lived, and so they died.

ANOTHER relic of this species of writing, on an old monument in St. Ann and St. Agnes, London, is equally ingenious, and much more laconic and excellent :