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GRANNY'S OLD SLIPPER.

213

The dear old farm of childhood! there was me and brother Sam,

Little rogues among the apples, little terrors with the jam;

But I think I hear dear Granny, with her thin New England lip,

Utter curses as she murmurs: "Here, just hand me that theer slip."

Now, oh slipper, you are lying
Just where'er old slippers be,
But my babies keep mine flying,
Just as Granny's did on me.

When at eve I'm tired and weary, after slippering the kids,

And I lean back hot and panting, and I close my worn-out lids,

Then I know dear Granny's waiting, and I fancy she will hold

A slipper with a golden heel, and maybe silversoled.

Yes, I know, oh slipper, slipper,
That amid the angel band,
Granny's young again and chipper,
And she beckons with her hand.

C. F. R.

TWO PROPOSALS.

Once I loved a pretty maiden,

And would fain have made her mine; But with doubt my heart was laden,

And I dared not make a sign— For she seemed so far above me, Though her manner was so kind. But like every timid wooer,

I resolved to know my fate; Never heart had loved her truer, I must know if 'twas too late.

So I wrote: "Beloved, my treasure,
I'm a mortal all alone,

Praying for the fullest measure
Of a bliss I've never known.
I adore you-madly, wildly:
Will you bid me then depart :
Or will you come, sweetly, mildly,
To my lonely, longing heart?
And as one in soul and mind, love,
Down life's river we will go.
Answer, could you be so kind, love!"
I received her answer, "No."

Then I pondered half despairing,
Thinking, "I must find a plan

TWO PROPOSALS.

To prevent my love from sharing
Life with any other man.'

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Once again I wrote: "Miss Fannie,
Let me make my case more plain;
I'm a bachelor like many,

Hear me, then, and not in vain.
All my socks need darning badly,
Which is something I can't do;
And my shirts need buttons sadly,
Though I have bungled on a few.

But with you to aid and cheer me
I could battle all these ills;
Knowing, love, that you were near me,
And I'd always pay your bills.
As a husband I'd be tender,

Kind, and generous, and true :
All bad habits I surrender,

If 'twill bring me nearer you."
This I mailed; try, if you can, sir,
Half my rapture to express,
When by night I got her answer,
"Come to-morrow evening--Yes."

215

UNKNOWN.

THE BELLE OF THE BALL.

Years, years ago,-ere yet my dreams
Had been of being wise and witty;
Ere I had done with writing themes,
Or yawned o'er this infernal Chitty,—
Years, years ago, while all my joys
Were in my fowling-piece and filly,
In short, while I was yet a boy,
I fell in love with Laura Lilly.

I saw her at a country ball;

There, when the sound of flute and fiddle Gave signal sweet in that old hall,

Of hands across and down the middle, Hers was the subtlest spell by far

Of all that sets young hearts romancing;

She was our queen, our rose, our star;

And when she danced-oh, heaven, her danc⚫

ing!

Dark was her hair, her hand was white;
Her voice was exquisitely tender;
Her eyes were full of liquid light;
I never saw a waist so slender;

Her every look, her every smile,

Shot right and left a score of arrows;

THE BELLE OF THE BALL.

I thought 'twas Venus from her isle,

I wondered where she'd left her sparrows.

She talked of politics or prayers,

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Of Southey's prose or Wordsworth's sonnets, Of daggers or of dancing bears,

Of battles, or the last new bonnets; By candle-light, at twelve o'clock,

To me it mattered not a tittle;

If those bright lips had quoted Locke,

I might have thought they murmured Little.

Through sunny May, through sultry June,
I loved her with a love eternal;

I spoke her praises to the moon,

I wrote them for the Sunday Journal. My mother laughed; I soon found out That ancient ladies have no feeling; My father frowned; but how should gout Find any happiness in kneeling?

She was the daughter of a dean,
Rich, fat, and rather apoplectic;
She had one brother, just thirteen,
Whose color was extremely hectic;
Her grandmother, for many a year,

Had fed the parish with her bounty;
Her second-cousin was a peer,

And lord-lieutenant of the county.

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