Mrs. Smith

155

MRS. SMITH

LAST year I trod these fields with Di,
Fields fresh with clover and with rye;
They now seem arid!

Then Di was fair and single; how
Unfair it seems on me, for now
Di's fair-and married!

A blissful swain-I scorn'd the song
Which says that though young Love is strong,
The Fates are stronger;

Breezes then blew a boon to men,
The buttercups were bright, and then
This grass was longer.

That day I saw and much esteem'd
Di's ankles, which the clover seem'd
Inclined to smother;

It twitch'd, and soon untied (for fun)
The ribbon of her shoes, first one,
And then the other.

I'm told that virgins augur some
Misfortune if their shoe-strings come
To grief on Friday:

And so did Di, and then her pride
Decreed that shoe-strings so untied
Are "so untidy!"

Of course I knelt; with fingers deft
I tied the right, and then the left;
Says Di, "The stubble

Is very stupid!—as I live,

I'm quite ashamed!-I'm shock'd to give
You so much trouble!"

For answer I was fain to sink

To what we all would say and think
Were Beauty present:

"Don't mention such a simple act-
A trouble? not the least! in fact
It's rather pleasant!"

I trust that Love will never tease
Poor little Di, or prove that he's
A graceless rover.

She's happy now as Mrs. Smith-
And less polite when walking with
Her chosen lover!

Heigh-ho! Although no moral clings
To Di's blue eyes, and sandal strings,
We've had our quarrels !-

I think that Smith is thought an ass;
I know that when they walk in grass
She wears balmorals.

Frederick Locker-Lampson.

A TERRIBLE INFANT

I RECOLLECT a nurse call'd Ann,

Who carried me about the grass, And one fine day a fine young man

Came up, and kiss'd the pretty lass. She did not make the least objection! Thinks I," Aha!

When I can talk I'll tell Mamma' -And that's my earliest recollection."

Frederick Locker-Lampson.

"I Didn't Like Him"

157

SUSAN

A KIND PROVIDENCE

He dropt a tear on Susan's bier,
He seem'd a most despairing swain;
But bluer sky brought newer tie,
And-would he wish her back again?

The moments fly, and when we die,
Will Philly Thistletop complain?
She'll cry and sigh, and-dry her eye,
And let herself be woo'd again.

Frederick Locker-Lampson.

"I DIDN'T LIKE HIM"

PERHAPS you may a-noticed I been soht o' solemn lately,
Haven't been a-lookin' quite so pleasant.

Mabbe I have been a little bit too proud and stately;
Dat's because I'se lonesome jes' at present.

I an' him agreed to quit a week or so ago,

Fo' now dat I am in de social swim

I'se 'rived to de opinion dat he ain't my style o' beau,
So I tole him dat my watch was fas' fo' him.

REFRAIN

Oh, I didn't like his clo'es,

An' I didn't like his eyes,

Nor his walk, nor his talk,

Nor his ready-made neckties.

I didn't like his name a bit,

Jes' 'spise the name o' Jim;

If dem ere reasons ain't enough,
I didn't like Him.

Dimon' ring he give to me, an' said it was a fine stone.
Guess it's only alum mixed wif camphor.

Took it roun' to Eisenstein; he said it was a rhinestone,
Kind, he said, he didn't give a dam fur.

Sealskin sack he give to me it got me in a row.

P'liceman called an' asked to see dat sack; Said another lady lost it. Course I don't know how; But I had to go to jail or give it back.

REFRAIN

Oh, I didn't like his trade;

Trade dat kep' him out all night.
He'd de look ob a crook,

An' he owned a bull's-eye light.
So when policemen come to ask
What I know 'bout dat Jim,

I come to de confusion dat

I didn't like Him.

Harry B. Smith.

MY ANGELINE

She kept her secret well, oh, yes,

Her hideous secret well.

We together were cast, I knew not her past;
For how was I to tell?

I married her, guileless lamb I was;

I'd have died for her sweet sake.
How could I have known that my Angeline
Had been a Human Snake?

Ah, we had been wed but a week or two
When I found her quite a wreck:
Her limbs were tied in a double bow-knot
At the back of her swan-like neck.
No curse there sprang to my pallid lips,
Nor did I reproach her then;

I calmly untied my bonny bride
And straightened her out again.

Refrain

My Angeline! My Angeline!

Why didst disturb my mind serene?
My well-beloved circus queen,

My Human Snake, my Angeline!

Nora's Vow

At night I'd wake at the midnight hour,
With a weird and haunted feeling,
And there she'd be, in her robe de nuit,

A-walking upon the ceiling.

She said she was being "the human fly,"
And she'd lift me up from beneath
By a section slight of my garb of night,
Which she held in her pearly teeth.

For the sweet, sweet sake of the Human Snake
I'd have stood this conduct shady;

159

But she skipped in the end with an old, old friend, An eminent bearded lady.

But, oh, at night, when my slumber's light,

Regret comes o'er me stealing;

For I miss the sound of those little feet,
As they pattered along the ceiling.

Refrain

My Angeline! My Angeline!

Why didst disturb my mind serene?
My well-belovèd circus queen,

My Human Snake, my Angeline!

Harry B. Smith.

NORA'S VOW

HEAR what Highland Nora said,—
"The Earlie's son I will not wed,
Should all the race of nature die,
And none be left but he and I.
For all the gold, for all the gear,
And all the lands both far and near,
That ever valour lost or won,

I would not wed the Earlie's son."

"A maiden's vows," old Callum spoke, "Are lightly made and lightly broke, The heather on the mountain's height Begins to bloom in purple light;