  [A daily paper points out that many girls find their sweethearts in print, and expresses the hope that when "a real man comes along he may be as brave and tender, as cheery and clean-living," as these heroes of fiction.] Dear lady, put down for a minute That book which you eagerly scan, Intent upon finding within it Your perfect ideal of a man; Its pages reflectively closing, Consider a moment the strain Your standard may soon be imposing Upon some susceptible swain. Those heroes whose fortunes you follow I've noticed are able to show The unparalleled charms of Apollo, The muscles of Samson and Co.; But he who comes seeking to win you May have, for supporting his plea, A palpable shortage of sinew And beauty distinctly C 3. And, unprepossessing in mien, he May also lack some of the art With which Saccharissa the Tweeny Was wooed by Sir Marmaduke, Bart.; His tongue may (conceivably) stammer, His heart (not impossibly) quake, And in stress of emotion his grammar May even develop a shake. But pause ere you "spurn his addresses;" His merits may still be as high As the sort that your hero possesses, Though they leap not so quick to the eye; At the least, you've the comfort of knowing, Since his heart at your feet he has placed, That in one thing at least he is showing A wholly impeccable taste. How Some Advertisers "Tell the Tale.""We spin the yarn ourselves." "'FULL TERM.'"An Impression at Cambridge.
Hefty chaps, these post-war undergraduates.
Answer.—Idaho is a North American Indian word meaning 'Gem of the Mountains' or 'Sunrise Mountains.'" We hope that T. E. C. isn't going to be put off with such a simple device as this. Injured Party. Injured Party. "It's all very well, Passon, for you to say wot 'orrible langwidge, but 'appen your missis ain't such a good shot with a flat-iron as mine is." |
|
