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THE OLD STREET LAMP.

fay] ID. you ever hear the story of the old Street Lamp? It is
a) not very remarkable, but it may be listened to for once
in a way. :

It was a very honest old Lamp, that had done its work for
many, many years, but which was now to be pensioned off. It
hung for the last time to its post, and gave light to the street. It
felt as an old dancer at the theatre, who is dancing for the last
time, and who to-morrow will sit forgotten in her garret. The
Lamp was in great fear about the morrow, for it knew that it was
to appear in the council-house, and to be inspected by the mayor
and the council, to see if it were fit for further service or not.

And then it was to be decided whether it was to show its light
in future for the inhabitants of some suburb, or in the country in
some manufactory; perhaps it would have to go at once into an
iron foundry to be melted down. In this last case anything might
be made of it; but the question whether it would remember, in
its new state, that it had been a Street Lamp, troubled it terribly.
Whatever might happen, this much was certain, that it would be
separated from the watchman and his wife, whom it had got to
look upon as quite belonging toits family. When the Lamp had
been hung up for the first time the watchman was a young sturdy
man: it happened to be the very evening on which he entered
on his office. Yes, that was certainly a long time ago, when it
first became a Lamp and he a watchman. The wife was a little
proud in those days. Only in the evening, when she went by, she
deigned to glance at the Lamp; in the day-time never. But now,
in these latter years, when all three, the watchman, his wife, and
the Lamp, had grown old, the wife had also tended it, cleaned it,
and provided it with oil. The two old people were thoroughly
honest ; never had they cheated the Lamp of a single drop of
the oil provided for it.

It was the Lamp’s last night in the street, and to-morrow it
was to go to the council-house ;—those were two dark thoughts!
No wonder that it did not burn brightly. But many other thoughts
passed through its brain. On what a number of events had it
shone—how much it had seen! Perhaps as much as the mayor
and the whole council had beheld. But it did not give utterance
to these thoughts, for it was a good honest old Lamp, that would
not willingly hurt any one, and least of all those in authority.
Many things passed through its mind, and at times its light
flashed up. In such moments it had a feeling that it, too, would
be remembered.

“ There was that handsome young man—it is certainly a long