MISCELLANY

pARENTAL PARTIALITY.
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 .My Son R2ger.--Itis ofentimes anus ing to hear parents talk of their child ren; to witness the ridiculous fooleries, both of language and sentiment, into which parental fondness will sometimes lead them; and listen 10 eneomleasz zon what, in the children of others, would be subjects of blame, rather than of praise. Is an illustration of this, take the following account lately given by an old gentleman of his son Roger. It is precisely in his own language, the pc euliarities of style and pronunciation being preserved with due care.

 My son Roger is rare lad-and 50 for that matter are all my boys, seven in number. They are all remarkable in their way, some for one thing and some for another. But my son Roger is the remarkablest of all. He was born on the 23th day of February, and of course his birth day comes only once in four years. How he come to be born on that day of all the days in the year, I never could make out, but so 1t was-and my son Roger, though now six feet high, was then so small that Mrs. Motherworth ac- tuallY put him into my wife's coffee pot and shut down the id. But he was q rare child for all that--why, on the very day he was born, he opened his eyes, he kicked like grass-hopper, and cried like sucking pig.-besides other things too tedious to mention. But it was not long we could get him ito 6 coffee pot; he soon out-grew that, can tellye. He run up ike pig-weed.

 Ny son Roger is rare lad. Why ss;hses:l s;hses:l he he was fao moro than six years old he could ride as though the very devi sent him. He got one or two fails tho and came very nigh breaking his neck. He did break his collar bone, and upset lis wrist, and come very near cracking lis skull. But it didn't make no differ ence at all: he is the same harumscarum chap now that he ever was.

 He's strapping lad for one of his years. You couldn't put him into a coffee pot now, no nor twenty coffee pots-and he's only nineteen years old 0, ifyou could see him among the other boys of the neighborhood-he's a whale among small fish l tell ye. And be tween YOU and he'sa burster ainongsl the gals. He goes a eourting every night, as constant as the night comes He'll make his way in the world, or else I'm no prophet. He's none of youl modest chaps that stand shilly shilliyine mot he; he steps right up to sem, Tn Mir. Roger se-and-so aham!' That; the way yen know. What signitie: standing in the back ground, winkine and blinking, and waiting to be brought forrard?

 Mg son Roger is rare land, let hin alone for that. if he don't make his way in the world, then set me down foi a noddy. Why, he's good at anything he's mind to turn his hand to, or his feet either for that rnattor. He can run like deer, ilimp like catarnas.at wrastle like bear, ckmb like a squirrel and sightlike tiger. He's the beaten fall fellows, my son Roger. He's goos at any thing, l tell ye. He can pitcl quates like all creation, he can play bal like a cat O nine tails, and throw ston, where you can never see it again.

 He's raal chap for a bargain too why, the other day, he undertook | trade horses. and it would have don, ynnr hea II good te see him manage it, t You must know Dobbin the old farm hoss, is twenty years old next grass nov coming. Well, what does Roger dt