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110 A NEW year's colloquy WITH TIME. 
A NEW YEAR'S COLLOQUY WITH TIME. 
Eleven o'clock at night! But another hour, 
and all that remains of the present year will have 
been borne upon the tireless wing of Father Time 
into the great gulf of eternity ; and the old fellow 
will have turned up his glass again, ground his 
scythe, and laid hold of the new year ; prepared 
to roll it onward, evolving the future from the 
lapse of every moment, until he shall see it safely 
deposited in the great grave of the past, which 
swallows all things. 
*' Thou art a jolly old fellow. Father Time ! 
Give us thy hand, and ere the bright sun of the 
first morning of the new year shines cheerfully 
over the grave of its departed brother, let us be a 
little sociable, and talk of the past. Do not be 
crusty ; you need not stop in your onward march. 
I myself am somewhat of a traveller, and will 
walk an hour with you; only keep that con- 
founded old scythe out of the way, which, since 
I first saw it pictured upon the cover of the 
Farmer's Almanac, along with the matter-of-fact 
couplet, 
Time cuts down all, 
Both great and small," 
I nevef could look at without shuddering. 
"Thou hast visited all countries and all climes ; 
thou hast been in strange lands, and beheld many 
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