Part 27 (1/2)

Has she wedded some gigantic shrimper, That sweet mite with whom I loved to play?

Is she girt with babes that whine and whimper, That bright being who was always gay?

Yes--she has at least a dozen wee things!

Yes--I see her darning corduroys, Scouring floors, and setting out the tea-things, For a howling herd of hungry boys.

C. S. CALVERLEY, _Fly Leaves_.

”You may report to your Government that the British youth of the present day, hot from the University, are very often prigs.”

”Most certainly I will,” said Mr. Wog; ”the last word, however, is one with which I am not acquainted.”

”It is an old English term for profound thinker,” I replied.

L. OLIPHANT, _Piccadilly_.

Woman takes the lead in all the departments, leaving us politics only. While we are being amused by the ballot, woman is quietly taking things into her own hands.

C. D. WARNER, _My Summer in a Garden_.

Would it were wind and wave alone!

The terrors of the torrid zone, The indiscriminate cyclone, A man might parry; But only faith, or ”triple bra.s.s,”

Can help the ”outward-bound” to pa.s.s Safe through that eastward-faring cla.s.s Who sail to marry.

For him fond mothers, stout and fair, Ascend the tortuous cabin stair Only to hold around his chair Insidious sessions; For him the eyes of daughters droop Across the plate of handed soup, Suggesting seats upon the p.o.o.p, And soft confessions.

AUSTIN DOBSON, _Vignettes in Rhyme_.

It's poor work allays settin' the dead above the livin'. It 'ud be better if folks 'ud make much of us beforehand, isted o' beginnin' when we're gone.

_Mrs. Poyser_, in GEORGE ELIOT's _Adam Bede_.

The auth.o.r.ess of the ”Wild Irish Girl,” Lady Morgan, justly proud of her gifted sister Olivia, was in the habit of addressing every new-comer with, ”I must make you acquainted with my Livy.” She once used this form of words to a gentleman who had just been worsted in an encounter of wits with the lady in question. ”Yes, ma'am,” was the reply; ”I happen to know your _Livy_, and I would to Heaven your _Livy_ was _Tacitus_.”

LORD ALBEMARLE, _Fifty Years of my Life._

”Rise with the lark, and with the lark to bed,”

Observes some solemn, sentimental owl; Maxims like these are very cheaply said; But e'er you make yourself a fool or fowl, Pray just inquire about his rise and fall, And whether larks have any bed at all!

The ”time for honest folks to be in bed”