Volume Ii Part 63 (1/2)

An' yit she gin her cheer a jerk Ez though she wished him furder, An' on her apples kep' to work, Parin' away like murder.

”You want to see my Pa, I s'pose?”

”Wal... no... I come dasignin”

”To see my Ma? She's sprinklin' clo'es Agin to-morrer's i'nin'.”

To say why gals acts so or so, Or don't, 'ould be presumin'; Mebby to mean yes an' say no Comes nateral to women.

He stood a spell on one foot fust, Then stood a spell on t'other, An' on which one he felt the wust He couldn't ha' told ye nuther.

Says he, ”I'd better call ag'in”; Says she, ”Think likely, Mister”; Thet last word p.r.i.c.ked him like a pin, An'... Wal, he up an' kissed her.

When Ma bimeby upon 'em slips, Huldy sot pale ez ashes, All kin' o' smily roun' the lips An' teary roun' the lashes.

For she was jes' the quiet kind Whose naturs never vary, Like streams that keep a summer mind Snow-hid in Jenooary.

The blood clost roun' her heart felt glued Too tight for all expressin', Tell mother see how metters stood And gin 'em both her blessin'.

Then her red come back like the tide Down to the Bay o' Fundy, An' all I know is they was cried In meetin' come nex' Sunday.

James Russell Lowell [1819-1891]

L'EAU DORMANTE

Curled up and sitting on her feet, Within the window's deep embrasure, Is Lydia; and across the street, A lad, with eyes of roguish azure, Watches her buried in her book.

In vain he tries to win a look, And from the trellis over there Blows sundry kisses through the air, Which miss the mark, and fall unseen, Uncared for. Lydia is thirteen.

My lad, if you, without abuse, Will take advice from one who's wiser, And put his wisdom to more use Than ever yet did your adviser; If you will let, as none will do, Another's heartbreak serve for two, You'll have a care, some four years hence, How you lounge there by yonder fence And blow those kisses through that screen-- For Lydia will be seventeen.

Thomas Bailey Aldrich [1837-1907]

A PRIMROSE DAME

She has a primrose at her breast, I almost wish I were a Tory.

I like the Radicals the best; She has a primrose at her breast; Now is it chance she so is dressed, Or must I tell a story?

She has a primrose at her breast, I almost wish I were a Tory.

Gleeson White [1851-1898]

IF

Oh, if the world were mine, Love, I'd give the world for thee!