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“ So Plato is.” “Then read him - do;

And I'll read mine in answer.”

I read. My Plato (Plato, too, –

That wisdom thus should harden!) Declares 'blue eyes look doubly blue

Beneath a Dolly Varden.'”

She smiled. ' My book in turn avers

(No author's name is stated) That sometimes those Philosophers

Are sadly mis-translated.”

“But hear, the next's in stronger style:

The Cynic School asserted
That two red lips which part and smile

May not be controverted!”

She smiled once more -“My book, I find,

Observes some modern doctors Would make the Cynics out a kind

Of album-verse concoctors.”

Then I-“Why not?'Ephesian law,

No less than time's tradition, Enjoined fair speech on all who saw

Diana's apparition.''

She blushed — this time. “If Plato's page

No wiser precept teaches,
Then I'd renounce that doubtful sage,

And walk to Burnham-beeches."


Agreed,” I said. For Socrates

(I find he too is talking) Thinks Learning can't remain at ease

While Beauty goes a-walking.”

She read no more. I leapt the sill:

The sequel's scarce essential Nay, more than this, I hold it still Profoundly confidential.

Austin Dobson


There was a negro preacher, I have heard,
In Southern parts before rebellion stirred,
Who did not spend his strength in empty sound;
His was a mind deep-reaching and profound.
Others might beat the air, and make a noise,
And help to amuse the silly girls and boys;
But as for him, he was a man of thought,
Deep in theology, although untaught.
He could not read or write, but he was wise,
And knew right smart how to extemporize.
One Sunday morn, when hymns and prayers were

The preacher rose, and rubbing up his head,
Bredren and sisterin, and companions dear,
Our preachment for to-day, as you shall hear,
Will be ob de creation, – ob de plan
On which God fashioned Adam, de fust man.
When God made Adam, in de ancient day,
He made his body out ob earth and clay,
He shape him all out right, den by and by,
He set him up agin de fence to dry.”
Stop," said a voice; and straightway there arose
An ancient negro in his master's clothes.
“Tell me," said he,“ before you farder go,
One little thing which I should like to know.
It does not quite get through dis niggar's har
How came dat fence so nice and handy dar?
Like one who in the mud is tightly stuck,
Or one nonplussed, astonished, thunderstruck,
The preacher looked severely on the pews,
And rubbed his hair to know what words to use :
Bredren," said he,“ dis word I hab to say;
De preacher can't be bothered in dis way;
For, if he is, it's jest as like as not,
Our whole theology will be upsot.”


A noble savage lady, of a color rather shady."

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