  Enchantress with the nut-brown hair, Bright genius of the A. B. C., Approach, in beauty past compare, And spell Love's alphabet to me! Content no more am I each night, Amid a weird, dyspeptic host, To order, with a keen delight, And watch thee bring, the tea and toast. I covet more transcendent joys; Be mine, and come where Ocean waits Instead of thee, and where annoys No tinkling clash of cups and plates. There grant to me, beneath the stars, Not buttered scones, but smiles of bliss; Not pastry, that digestion mars, But something sweeter still—a kiss. * * * Enchantress with the nut-brown hair, Bright genius of the A. B. C., Ah, heed a lover's anguished prayer, And be not D. E. F. to me! Advice to Honeymooners about to Start on a Continental Trip.—The most appropriate place for "les noces" should be "The Hotel Marry-time, Calais." Man talking to woman. BETWEEN SCYLLA AND CHARYBDIS Lady Binks (a devoted widow, earnestly). "Oh, Mr. Crichton, be careful how you marry! Sir Peter, who, as you know, rose to the highest positions, used frequently to say that more men owed their success to the beauty and social charm of their wives, than to their own energy and talents." Mr. Crichton (plunging on the "nil nisi bonum" principle). "Surely, Lady Binks, none could say that of Sir Peter!" Literal.—Visitor (to Disconsolate One). "Rejected you, did she? Oh, what o' that? Often do at first. Try her again. You're not pertinacious enough. You should have pressed her——" Dejected One. "Yes, but—confound her!—she wouldn't let me come near her!" Man talking to woman. PARRIED The Major (not so young as he feels). "Ah, Miss Muriel, in the spring a young man's fancy lightly turns to thoughts of——" Miss Muriel (who wishes to avoid a proposal). "What a memory you have, major!" Man talking to woman. He. "Oh, pray, Miss Dalrimple, don't call me Mr. Brookes." She. "Oh, but our acquaintance has been so brief. This is so sudden——" (Sweetly.) "Why shouldn't I call you Mr. Brookes?" He. "Oh—only because my name's Somerset!" "Unequal Rating."—A big wife scolding a little husband. The Divorce Measure.—Half and half. Feminine Perversity.—Aunt Betsy. "I wonder, James, at your encouraging young Cadby to be so much with Madeline! He's a bad match, and not a good fellow, I fear!" Papa. "Confound him, no! I've given him carte-blanche to come when he likes, and she's getting rather tired of him at last, for I'm always cracking him up!" Aunt Betsy. "And that nice fellow, Goodenough? He's never here now?" Papa. "No; I've forbidden him the house, and won't even allow his name to be mentioned. She's always thinking of him in consequence. I'm in hopes she'll marry him some day!" VIRGINIA STOCK'S VIEW OF IT.Is Marriage a Failure? Why, yes, to be sure. But, oh! abolition won't furnish a cure. Whilst thousands of spinsters in solitude tarry, It's clearly a failure—because men won't marry. An "Elastic Band."—The Marriage Tie (in the Divorce Court). Husband and wife talking. A PARTHIAN SHOT He (after a quarrel, bitterly). "I was a fool when I married you!" She (quietly, about to leave the room). "Yes; but I thought you would improve!" Two men talking. HARMONY Brown (Philistine). "I heard it was all 'off' between you and Miss Roweshett." Wobbinson (Æsthete). "Ya-as. Incompatibility of complexion!—she didn't suit my furnitchar!!" Two women talking. 'Liza. "Wot's it feel like, bein' in love, Kytie?" Katie. "Ow, it's prime, 'Liza. It's like 'avin' 'ot treacle runnin' daown yer back!" |
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