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"My friend the fox my pigeon must seeHe ran, and stretch'd 'mongst the bushes lay he"Look, fox, at my pigeon, my pigeon so fair!His equal I'm sure thou hast look'd upon ne'er!"

"Bravo!" added in turn the druggist, with eagerness speaking"Had I but money to spare in my pocket, you surely should have it,Silver and gold alike; for your followers certainly need it.Yet I'll not leave you without a present, if only to show youMy good will, and I hope you will take the will for the action."Thus he spoke, and pull'd out by the strings the leather embroider'dPouch, in which he was wont his stock of tobacco to carry,Daintily open'd and shared its contents--some two or three pipes' full."Small in truth is the gift," he added. The magistrate answered:"Good tobacco is always a welcome present to trav'llers."Then the druggist began his canister to praise very highly.But the pastor drew him away, and the magistrate left them."Come, let us hasten!" exclaimed the sensible man, "for our young friendAnxiously waits; without further delay let him hear the good tidings."

As its waves the bank o'erflow.And with ever restless motion