If, however, you never hear his song you can remember that the Hermit is the brown bird with the rusty tail and speckled breast that hops among your bushes in spring and fall.

The hermit has become king.

In a few moments, however, he discovered that the despised hermit was not without his allies; ten thousand fleas, the pest of the country, assaulted every portion of his body they could reach.

The Hermit is a pleasing little tale, told with that simplicity which appears so easy, and is in fact so difficult, to be obtained.

Our youthful hermit was quite two months in regaining his strength, though, by the end of one he was able to look about him, and turn his hand to many little necessary jobs.

Hermit, is all this true? SKINK.

Mar. To day no Hermit could be humblier Then you were to us all.

The hand of danger cannot fall amiss When I know what, and in whose power it is; Nor want, the cause of man, shall make me groan: A holy hermit is a mind alone.

If this same hermit be an honest man, He will protect me by his simple life; If not, I care not; I'll be ever Gloster, Make him my footstool, if he be a slave, For baseness over worth can have no power.