ADVENTURE OF A LOVER 'Twas Saturday eve.--The love-lorn swain Was hastening toward Jennie's house; His mien indicative of fear For neither man nor mouse. But ere he reached the farmhouse gate An object he chanced to spy.-- 'Twas only a table-cloth Jennie had washed And hung on the line to dry. But he knew it not, so there he stood Deciding what to do,-- He dare not venture too near the spook,-- Yet the gate he must go through!-- The white cloth flapped in the gentle breeze-- 'Twas too much for Jennie's beau; He turned and ran off down the hill As fast as he could go! He imagined that footsteps were following fast,-- So away like a gale ran he; Nor did he stop, till he reached the top Of Squire Pettigrew's crab-apple tree! ------ Just then the moon, with a bright smiling face, Came out from behind a black cloud,-- Little Nell, at the window, stood watching the moon, And she uttered a cry long and loud.-- "Oh! Mamma!--come look at this queer looking bird -- An owl is perched up in our tree!-- Or is it a night-hawk just taking a rest-- What kind of a bird can it be?" Miss Jennie came tripping along down the street, In the hope of meeting her lover;-- Then he quietly let himself down from the tree Before she had time to discover. Then arm in arm they returned to the gate,-- And he blushed, as in silence stood he And saw the white spectre, which drove him in fright To the top of the crab-apple tree!