Dora Versus Rose Or I find myself placidly adding To the rapturous tresses of Rose Miss Dora's bud-mouth, and her madding Ineffable nose. Was there ever so sad a dilemma? For Rose I would perish (pro tem.); (Whatever might offer to stem); And, as either so hopelessly nice is, Of Dora and Rose. 145 (Afterthought) But, perhaps, if a third (say a Nora), Should appear, is it wrong to suppose,- Is easily guessed. Austin Dobson. TU QUOQUE AN IDYLL IN THE CONSERVATORY NELLIE If I were you, when ladies at the play, Sir, FRANK If I were you, when persons I affected, Wait for three hours to take me down to Kew, I would at least pretend I recollected, If I were you! NELLIE If I were you, when ladies are so lavish, I would not dance with odious Miss M'Tavish, FRANK If I were you, who vow you cannot suffer Whiff of the best,-the mildest "honey dew," I would not dance with smoke-consuming Puffer, NELLIE If I were you, I would not, Sir, be bitter, FRANK No, I should doubtless find flirtation fitter, If I were you! NELLIE Really! You would? Why, Frank, you're quite delightful,— Hot as Othello, and as black of hue; Borrow my fan. I would not look so frightful, If I were you! Tu Quoque FRANK "It is the cause." I mean your chaperon is NELLIE Go, if you will. At once! And by express, Sir! FRANK No-I remain. To stay and fight a duel Seems, on the whole, the proper thing to doAh, you are strong,-I would not then be cruel, If I were you! NELLIE One does not like one's feelings to be doubted,— FRANK One does not like one's friends to misconstrue, NELLIE If I confess that I a wee-bit pouted? FRANK I should admit that I was piqué, too. NELLIE Ask me to dance. I'd say no more about it, If I were you! 147 [Waltz-Exeunt.] Austin Dobson. NOTHING TO WEAR MISS FLORA MCFLIMSEY, of Madison Square, Has made three separate journeys to Paris; And her father assures me, each time she was there, (Not the lady whose name is so famous in history, At all hours of the day, and in all sorts of weather: Or tied on with a string, or stitched on with a bow, For bonnets, mantillas, capes, collars, and shawls; While McFlimsey in vain stormed, scolded, and swore. They footed the streets, and he footed the bills. The last trip, their goods shipped by the steamer Argo Sufficient to fill the largest-sized chest, Nothing to Wear But for which the ladies themselves manifested But the miracle ceased when she turned inside out, 149 And yet, though scarce three months have passed since the day The merchandise went, on twelve carts, up Broadway, This same Miss McFlimsey, of Madison Square, The last time we met, was in utter despair, Because she had nothing whatever to wear! NOTHING TO WEAR! Now, as this is a true ditty, Like Powers's Greek Slave, or the Medici Venus; I had just been selected as he who should throw all On myself, after twenty or thirty rejections Of those fossil remains which she called her "affections," And that rather decayed but well-known work of art, Which Miss Flora persisted in styling "her heart." So we were engaged. Our troth had been plighted Not by moonbeam or starbeam, by fountain or grove; But in a front parlor, most brilliantly lighted, |