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Rh saying, it is nothing to that storm we had last week.—Velorus, pull that hat out of the window, so the gentleman can see.—There, sir," said he, "just look at that big maple tree, that was blown down, if it had come one yard nearer my house, it would have crushed it to atoms. Ah, this is a nice place as you will find any where," he continued, (for he saw Mr. Lloyd was listening attentively to him,) "to bring up boys; it makes them hardy and spirited, to live here with the wind roaring about them, and the thunder rattling right over their heads: why they don't mind it any more than my woman's spinning-wheel, which, to be sure, makes a dumb noise sometimes."

Our travellers were not a little amused with the humour of this man, who had a natural philosophy that a stoic might have envied. "Friend," said Mr. Lloyd, "you have a singular fancy about names; what may be the name of that chubby little girl who is playing with my wife's fan?"

"Yes, sir, I am a little notional about names; that girl, sir, I call Octavy, and that lazy little dog that stands by her, is Rodolfus."

"And this baby," said Mr. Lloyd, kindly giving the astonished little fellow his watch-chain to play with, "this must be Vespasian or Agricola."

"No, sir, no; I met with a disappointment about that boy's name—what you may call a slip between the cup and the lip—when he was born, the women asked me what I meant to call him? I told them, I did not mean to be in any hurry; for you must know, sir, the way I get my names,