Part 22 (2/2)

TELL-TALE

The Lily whispered to the Rose: ”The Tulip's fearfully stuck up.

You'd think to see the creature's pose, She was a golden altar-cup.

There's method in her boldness, too; She catches twice her share of Dew.”

The Rose into the Tulip's ear Murmured: ”The Lily is a sight; Don't you believe she _powders_, dear, To make herself so saintly white?

She takes some trouble, it is plain, Her reputation to sustain.”

Said Tulip to the Lily white: ”About the Rose--what do you think?-- Her color? Should you say it's quite-- Well, quite a natural shade of pink?”

”Natural!” the Lily cried. ”Good Saints!

Why, _everybody_ knows she paints!”

OLIVER HERFORD

DA THIEF

Eef poor man goes An' steals a rose Een Juna-time-- Wan leetla rose-- You gon' su'pose Dat dat's a crime?

Eh! w'at? Den taka look at me, For here bayfore your eyes you see Wan thief dat ees so glad an' proud He gona brag of eet out loud!

So moocha good I do, an' feel From dat wan leetla rose I steal, Dat eef I gon' to jail to-day Dey could no tak' my joy away.

So, lees'en! here ees how eet com': Las' night w'en I am walkin' home From work een hotta ceety street, Ees sudden com' a smal so sweet Eet maka heaven een my nose-- I look an' dere I see da rose!

Not wan, but manny, fine an' tall, Dat peep at me above da wall.

So, too, I close my eyes an' find Anudder peecture een my mind; I see a house dat's small an' hot Where manny pretta theengs is not, Where leetla woman, good an' true, Ees work so hard da whole day through, She's too wore out, w'en com's da night, For smile an' mak' da housa bright.

But, presto! now I'm home an' she Ees settin' on da step weeth me.

Bambino, sleepin' on her breast, Ees nevva know more sweeta rest, An' nevva was sooch glad su'prise Like now ees s.h.i.+na from her eyes; An' all baycause to-night she wear Wan leetla rose stuck een her hair.

She ees so please'! Eet mak' me feel I shoulda sooner learned to steal.

Eef ”thief's” my name I feel no shame; Eet ees no crime-- Dat rose I got.

Eh! w'at? O! not Een Juna-time!

T. A. DALY

RESULTS AND ROSES

The man who wants a garden fair, Or small or very big, With flowers growing here and there, Must bend his back and dig.

The things are mighty few on earth That wishes can attain.

Whate'er we want of any worth We've got to work to gain.

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