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I think I hear you mutter, then,

While through the sand-heaps wading: Well, let me once get home again, And deuce take all crusading!''


“You heartless thing! but you have ne'er

Perused, like me, their storyWho knew no task they would not dare,

No pain when crowned with glory; And, glowing o'er those pages dear,

I've wished, with heart o'erladen, I were a Spanish cavalier

And you my chosen maiden!”


"O Fred, you goose! I ne'er could bide

Unseen behind a grating, Nor bear forever at my side

A prim duenna waiting.

And then this face you say you prize,

Some horrid Moor might eye it, And whisk me off before your eyes—’

HE (fiercely). “I'd like to see him try it!”


Then, too, in that stern age, you know,

No opera, ball, nor fashion, No lovely sleighing in the snow,

No novels filled with passion.
In convent lone, or castle strong,

It must have been diverting
To stitch at tap'stry all day long,

With ne'er a chance of flirting !”


“Of course, that's the thing you require !

But men had then a chance, dear, To win their spurs through gore and mire

In Palestine or France, dear:

And when the stubborn fray was done,

His lady crowned the winner, And"

SHE. “Pawned the spurs his strife had won,

To buy their Sunday dinner!”

HE (angrily), “Too bad, by Jove! of all I say

You will make fun—"


“ Poor fellow ! He sees en beau our fathers' day,

But ours in jaundiced yellow. Your knights, good sir (whose spurs of gold

Were all the wealth they carried), Oft found their chosen maidens' cold,

And lived (or died) unmarried !

“But never mind, dear Fred; for, though

I sometimes like to tease you,

I'd never say a word, you know,

That really could displease you;
And, though papa may fume and rage,

And vow he'll ne'er endure it,
Just wait until I come of age,

And then"

HE (ecstatically).
“The ring and curate!”



A Cousinly Duet.

FLORA (with significant emphasis).
SEE, birdie! here's your seed and cake,

And here's your water handy;
Come, trim your yellow plumes and make

Your little self a dandy!

You're wiser far than some I know,

Who, home and comfort scorning, Through every sort of danger go,

And won't take friendly warning.

FRANK (de fiantly).
So be it. “Home and comfort" I

Can leave to those who need 'em;
Mine the wide earth, the open sky,

The wanderer's life of freedom! And


Better far at home to stay Than burn abroad or shiver; There's nothing there can match our bay,

Or beat our Hudson River!

FRANK (wth profound irony). Forth, then, O Frank! in vent'rous bark

Round Coney Island sailing,

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