Fledgeby Deserved Mr. Alfred Lammle's Eulogium. He

No One Is Useless In This World Who Lightens The Burden Of It To Anyone Else.

Money And Goods Are Certainly The Best Of References.

I Recollected One Story There Was In The Village, How That On A Certain Night In The Year (it Might Be That Very Night For Anything I Knew), All The Dead People Came Out Of The Ground And Sat At The Heads Of Their Own Graves Till Morning.

Fledgeby Deserved Mr. Alfred Lammle's Eulogium. He Was The Meanest Cur Existing, With A Single Pair Of Legs. And Instinct (a Word We All Clearly Understand) Going Largely On Four Legs, And Reason Always On Two, Meanness On Four Legs Never Attains The Perfection Of Meanness On Two.

"ay," Said The Captain, Reverentially; "it's A Almighty Element. There's Wonders In The Deep, My Pretty. Think On It When The Winds Is Roaring And The Waves Is Rowling. Think On It When The Stormy Nights Is So Pitch Dark," Said The Captain, Solemnly Holding Up His Hook, "as You Can't See Your Hand Afore You, Excepting When The Wiwid Lightning Reweals The Same; And When You Drive, Drive, Drive Through The Storm And Dark, As If You Was A Driving, Head On, To The World Without End."