Beneath the gas-fixtures we whispered our love- And by way of putting me quite at my ease, "You know, I'm to polka as much as I please, And flirt when I like,-now stop,-don't you speak, And you must not come here more than twice in the week, Or talk to me either at party or ball; But always be ready to come when I call: So don't prose to me about duty and stuff, If we don't break this off, there will be time enough For that sort of thing; but the bargain must be, That as long as I choose I am perfectly free: Which is binding on you, but not binding on me." Well, having thus wooed Miss McFlimsey, and gained her, With the silks, crinolines, and hoops that contained her, I had, as I thought, a contingent remainder At least in the property, and the best right To appear as its escort by day and by night; And it being the week of the Stuckups' grand ball,- I considered it only my duty to call And see if Miss Flora intended to go. I found her-as ladies are apt to be found When the time intervening between the first sound She turned as I entered-"Why, Harry, you sinner, Nothing to Wear And digested, I trust; for 'tis now nine or more: Your beauty and graces and presence to lend 151 (All of which, when I own, I hope no one will borrow) To the Stuckups, whose party, you know, is to-morrow?" The fair Flora looked up with a pitiful air, And answered quite promptly, "Why, Harry, mon cher, I should like above all things to go with you there; "Nothing to wear? Go just as you are: On the Stuckup horizon-" I stopped, for her eye, No matter how fine, that she wears every day!" shade." "Your blue silk- 99 a "That's too heavy."-"Your pink-" "That's too light." "Wear tulle over satin." "I can't endure white." "Your rose-colored, then, the best of the batch-" "I haven't a thread of point lace to match." "Your brown moire-antique-" "Yes, and look like a Quaker." "The pearl-colored-" "I would, but that plaguy dress maker Has had it a week."-" Then that exquisite lilac, "Why not? It's my fancy, there's nothing could strike it As more comme il faut "-" Yes, but, dear me, that lean Sophronia Stuckup has got one just like it, And I won't appear dressed like a chit of sixteen.""Then that splendid purple, that sweet mazarine, That superb point d'aiguille, that imperial green, That zephyr-like tarlatan, that rich grenadine' "Not one of all which is fit to be seen," Said the lady, becoming excited and flushed. "Then wear," I exclaimed, in a tone which quite crushed Opposition," that gorgeous toilette which you sported In Paris last spring, at the grand presentation, When you quite turned the head of the head of the nation; And by all the grand court were so very much courted." The end of the nose was portentously tipped up, And both the bright eyes shot forth indignation, Quite innocent, though; but to use an expression And proved very soon the last act of our session. "Fiddlesticks, is it, sir? I wonder the ceiling Doesn't fall down and crush you!-oh, you men have no feeling. You selfish, unnatural, illiberal creatures, Who set yourselves up as patterns and preachers, But you do not believe me" (here the nose went still higher): "I suppose if you dared you would call me a liar. Our engagement is ended, sir-yes, on the spot; You're a brute, and a monster, and-I don't know what." I mildly suggested the words Hottentot, My Mistress's Boots It blew, and it rained, thundered, lightened, and hailed Well, I felt for the lady, and felt for my hat too, Of the Russias to boot, for the rest of his days, 153 On the whole do you think he would have much time to spare If he married a woman with nothing to wear? William Allen Butler. MY MISTRESS'S BOOTS THEY nearly strike me dumb, Pit-a-pat: This palpitation means These boots are Geraldine's Think of that! Oh, where did hunter win So delectable a skin For her feet? You lucky little kid, You perished, so you did, For my sweet! The faëry stitching gleams On the sides, and in the seams, The Pixies were the wags Who tipt those funny tags What soles to charm an elf! One printed near the tide, Oh, how hard he would have tried For the two! For Gerry's debonair And innocent, and fair As a rose; She's an angel in a frock, With a fascinating cock The simpletons who squeeze Would positively flinch Cinderella's lefts and rights, The damsel, deftly shod, Has dutifully trod Until now. Come, Gerry, since it suits Such a pretty Puss (in Boots) These to don; Set this dainty hand awhile On my shoulder, dear, and I'll Put them on. Frederick Locker-Lampson. |