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Our love was like most other loves-
A little glow, a little shiver,
A rose-bud, and a pair of gloves,

And "Fly not yet "-upon the river;
Some jealousy of some one's heir,

Some hopes of dying broken-hearted, A miniature, a lock of hair,

The usual vows-and then we parted.

We parted; months and years rolled by;
We met again four summers after.
Our parting was all sob and sigh,

Our meeting was all mirth and laughter:
For in my heart's most secret cell
There had been many other lodgers;
And she was not the ball-room's Belle,
But only-Mrs. Something Rogers!

WINTHROP M. PRAED.

TU QUOQUE.

An Idyl in the Conservatory.

NELLIE.

If I were you, when ladies at the play, sir,
Beckon and nod, a melodrama through,
I would not turn abstractedly away, sir,
If I were you!

FRANK.

If I were you, when persons I affected
Wait for three hours to take me down to
Kew,

I would, at least, pretend I recollected,
If I were you!

NELLIE.

If I were you, when ladies are so lavish,

Sir, as to keep me every waltz but two, I would not dance with odious Miss M'Tavish, If I were you!

FRANK.

If I were you, who vow you can not suffer
- Whiff of the best,-the mildest "honey-dew,"
I would not dance with smoke-consuming
Puffer,

If I were you!

NELLIE.

If I were you, I would not, sir, be bitter,
Even to write the "Cynical Review; "—

FRANK.

No, I should doubtless find flirtation fitter,
If I were you!

NELLIE.

Really! you would? Why, Frank, you're quite delightful

Hot as Othello, and as black of hue; Borrow my fan. I would not look so frightful, If I were you!

FRANK.

"It is the cause"-I mean your chaperon is
Bringing some well-curled juvenile. Adieu!
I shall retire. I'd spare that poor Adonis,
If I were you!

NELLIE.

Go, if you will. At once! and by express, sir!
Where shall it be? To China-or Peru?
Go. I should leave inquirers my address, sir,
If I were you!

FRANK.

No-I remain. To stay and fight a duel Seems, on the whole, the proper thing to doAh, you are strong-I would not then be cruel, If I were you!

NELLIE.

One does not like one's feelings to be doubted,

FRANK.

One does not like one's friends to misconstrue,—

NELLIE.

If I confess that I a wee-bit pouted?—

FRANK.

I should admit that I was piqué, too.

NELLIE.

Ask me to dance. I'd say no more about it,

If I were you!

(Waltz.-Exeunt.)

AUSTIN DOBSON.

INCOGNITA.

JUST for a space that I met her-
Just for a day in the train!

It began when she feared it would wet her,
That tiniest spurtle of rain:

So we tucked a great rug in the sashes,
And carefully padded the pane;

And I sorrow in sackcloth and ashes,
Longing to do it again!

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