Beneath the gas-fixtures we whispered our love-
Without any romance, or raptures, or sighs,
Without any tears in Miss Flora's blue eyes,
Or blushes, or transports, or such silly actions;
It was one of the quietest business transactions,
With a very small sprinkling of sentiment, if any,
And a very large diamond imported by Tiffany.
On her virginal lips while I printed a kiss,
She exclaimed, as a sort of parenthesis,

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:
For this is a sort of engagement, you sec,

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,-
Their cards had been out for a fortnight or so,
And set all the Avenue on the tiptoe,-

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
Of the bell and the visitor's entry is shorter
Than usual-I found-I won't say I caught-her
Intent on the pier-glass, undoubtedly meaning
To see if perhaps it didn't need cleaning.

She turned as I entered-"Why, Harry, you sinner,
I thought that you went to the Flashers' to dinner!"
"So I did," I replied; "but the dinner is swallowed,

Nothing to Wear

And digested, I trust; for 'tis now nine or more:
So being relieved from that duty, I followed
Inclination, which led me, you see, to your door.
And now will your Ladyship so condescend
As just to inform me if you intend

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;
But really and truly-I've nothing to wear."

"Nothing to wear? Go just as you are:
Wear the dress you have on, and you'll be by far,
I engage, the most bright and particular star

On the Stuckup horizon-" I stopped, for her eye,
Notwithstanding this delicate onset of flattery,
Opened on me at once a most terrible battery
Of scorn and amazement. She made no reply,
But gave a slight turn to the end of her nose
(That pure Grecian feature), as much as to say,
"How absurd that any sane man should suppose
That a lady would go to a ball in the clothes,

No matter how fine, that she wears every day!"
So I ventured again-" Wear your crimson brocade."
(Second turn-up of nose)-"That's too dark by

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,
In which you would melt the heart of a Shylock."
(Here the nose took again the same elevation)—
"I wouldn't wear that for the whole of creation."-

"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,
As she burst upon me with the fierce exclamation,
"I have worn it three times at the least calculation,
And that and most of my dresses are ripped up!"
Here I ripped out something, perhaps rather rash-

Quite innocent, though; but to use an expression
More striking than classic, it "settled my hash,"

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,
Your silly pretence-why, what a mere guess it is!
Pray, what do you know of a woman's necessities?
I have told you and shown you I've nothing to wear,
And it's perfectly plain you not only don't care,

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,
Pickpocket, and cannibal, Tartar, and thief,
As gentle expletives which might give relief:
But this only proved as a spark to the powder,
And the storm I had raised came faster and louder;

My Mistress's Boots

It blew, and it rained, thundered, lightened, and hailed
Interjections, verbs, pronouns, till language quite failed
To express the abusive, and then its arrears
Were brought up all at once by a torrent of tears;
And my last faint, despairing attempt at an obs-
Ervation was lost in a tempest of sobs.

Well, I felt for the lady, and felt for my hat too,
Improvised on the crown of the latter a tattoo,
In lieu of expressing the feelings which lay
Quite too deep for words, as Wordsworth would say:
Then, without going through the form of a bow,
Found myself in the entry.-I hardly knew how,-
On doorstep and sidewalk, past lamp-post and square,
At home and up-stairs, in my own easy-chair;
Poked my feet into slippers, my fire into blaze,
And said to myself, as I lit my cigar,-
Supposing a man had the wealth of the Czar

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,
And I tremble when they come

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,
And it shows

The Pixies were the wags

Who tipt those funny tags
And these toes.

What soles to charm an elf!
Had Crusoe, sick of self,
Chanced to view

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
To her nose.

The simpletons who squeeze
Their extremities to please
Mandarins,

Would positively flinch
From venturing to pinch
Geraldine's.

Cinderella's lefts and rights,
To Geraldine's were frights;
And I trow,

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.