From fhe Boston .amafeur.
 SONG OF THE HENPECKED. o her hair is dark as the midnight wave, And her eye Is like kindling fire, And her voice Is sweet as the spirits voice That chords with the seraph's Tyre. But her nails are as sharp as toasting fork.

 And iler arms as strong .ss bears; She pull my hair and she goug'd my eye, And she kick d me down the stairs. I've got n1e an eye that's made of glass, And I've got me wig that's new, The wig is frizzled in corkscrew curls, And the eye is clouded blue. She may shake her knucklcs full in my

 face;

 And put the lamp to my beard, And hold the broomstick over my head, But am not a bit afeard. For I've her over to keep the peace, And Eve bought me a crabtree cane, The justice will come, and the constable Ii sine nedidiies with inc again. My head was week in the hnnen cap, And my eye month in the patch; never thought that the torch of love Would light such birthstone match.

 H.