Next day to that 'twas common chat, A bonnet close beside a hat Was sitting on a gate. A month, not more, had bustled o'er, It happened so-precisely so As all their friends and neighbours know Frederick Langbridge. EYES OF BLACK AND EYES OF BLUE (From the Viceroy) NE day I swear by the eyes of black, ΟΝ 'Tis in merry black eyes that the love-light lies, But the blue are more apt to be true. The dusky-eyed maid has a laughing look That can make you the world forget, my boy; But the gentle blue eye never causes a sigh, And it rarely denotes the coquette, my boy. Eyes of black or eyes of blue, Devil a bit does it matter I say! If I love one to-day, why to-morrow I may Have a caprice for the brown or the gray. So here is a toast to the feminine host, The blue eyes for me or the black for you. The one for a time I shall think sublime, And then if you like I will change with you. One day I sing of the raven curls, Be mine the brunette of the tresses jet, For the gypsy-like maid has a heart that's warm, Raven hair or hair of gold, Devil a bit does it matter I say! If I love one to-day, why to-morrow I may Have a caprice for the auburn gay; So here is a toast to the feminine host, Blond ringlets for me and the black for you. The one for a time I shall think sublime, And then if you like I will change with you. Harry B. Smith. HER FAULTS (From the Mandarin) Y sweetheart has her faults in plenty, MY Which I perceive with much distress; For instance, she is only twenty, So, spite of this and spite of that, I love my sweetheart, faults and all. From such defects this little lady Her eyes are "much too deep for me." Her rivals wish she hadn't any; But what's a dimple more or less? Her foot-but that I shall not mention— Yes, spite of that and spite of this, Harry B. Smith. A MODERN DIALOGUE SCENE-On Manhattan Island. Time-To-day. Her morning tub. In speech with her the while SIBYL-Why, Bob, it's you! They got your name all wrong. I'm sorry that I made you wait so long. BOB- Only six minutes by my watch—it's true SIBYL-A very pretty speech, for you, indeed. BOB SIBYL BOB SIBYL BOB Oh, come, I say! It's half-past ten! Well, it was nearly three Before I got to bed! Good gracious me! I'm sure I'd no idea it was so late. I beg to be excused From keeping foolish promises, when made It is His metier! SIBYL-Don't be outrageous, or I'll run away. BOB- Ah, no; don't go. I will be good, I swear! 'Twas a quotation, Heine, or Voltaire, SIBYL Or some fool cynic fellow. By the way, Well, that's rather soon; |