And I'm as proud as any prince, All honors I disdain: She says I am her rain beau since I kissed her in the rain. Samuel Minturn Peck. THE LOVE-KNOT TYING her bonnet under her chin, They were strolling together up the hill, And it blew a colour bright as the bloom Steeper and steeper grew the hill- The western wind blew down and played Oh, western wind, do you think it was fair To blow her against the young man's breast, Over the Way Where he as gladly folded her in, And kissed her mouth and dimpled chin? Oh, Ellery Vane! you little thought As she tied her bonnet under her chin. 125 Nora Perry. OVER THE WAY OVER the way, over the way, I've seen a head that's fair and gray; So love this lady, fair to see, I want her for my mother-in-law! Over the way, over the way, I've seen her with the children play; A kinder woman none ever saw; Over the way, over the way, I think I'll venture, dear, some day Down at the lady's feet, and say: "I've loved your daughter many a dayPlease won't you be my mother-in-law?" Mary Mapes Dodge. CHORUS OF WOMEN FROM THE "THESMOPHORIAZUSÆ." THEY'RE always abusing the women, If ever we chance to roam? When you ought to be thanking Heaven If she hides, then they all keep staring THE WIDOW MALONE DID you hear of the Widow Malone O hone! Who lived in the town of Athlone Alone? O, she melted the hearts So lovely the Widow Malone. Aristophanes. The Widow Malone Of lovers she had a full score Or more; And fortunes they all had galore In store; From the minister down To the clerk of the Crown, All were courting the Widow Malone All were courting the Widow Malone. But so modest was Mrs. Malone, Let them ogle and sigh, O hone! They could ne'er catch her eye; O hone! So bashful the Widow Malone. Till one Mister O'Brien from Clare, How quare! "Tis little for blushing they care Down there; Put his arm round her waist, Gave ten kisses at laste, And says he, "You're my Molly Malone, My own." Says he, "You're my Molly Malone." And the widow they all thought so shy My eye! Never thought of a simper or sigh; For why? "O Lucius," said she, Since you've now made so free, You may marry your Mary Malone, Your own; You may marry your Mary Malone." 127 There's a moral contained in my song, And one comfort it's not very long, If for widows you die, But strong: Learn to kiss-not to sigh, For they're all like sweet Mistress Malone! O hone! O they're all like sweet Mistress Malone! Charles Lever. THE SMACK IN SCHOOL A DISTRICT School, not far away, Let off in one tremendous kiss! "What's that?" the startled master cries; With stolen chattels on his back, Will hung his head in fear and shame, A great, green, bashful simpleton, With smile suppressed, and birch upraised, |