.
Many tears she shed
That night while in bed
For she had such a terrible pain in her head!
"My dear little pet, where's the camphor?" he said;
"I'll go for the doctor--you'll have to be bled;
I declare, my dear wife, you are just about dead."

"O no, my dear;
I pray you don't fear,
Though the pain, I'll admit, is exceeding severe.
I know what it is--I have had it before--
It's only neuralgia: please go to the store
And bring me a bottle of 'Davis's Pain-
Killer,' and I shall be better again."
He sprang out of bed
And away he sped
In his gown for the cordial to cure her head,
Not dreaming that Cupid had played her a trick--
The blind little rogue with a sharpened stick.
I confess on my knees
I have had the disease;
It is worse than the bites of a thousand fleas;
And the only cure I have found for these ills
Is a double dose of "Purgative Pills."
He rubbed her head--
And eased it, she said;
And he shrugged and shivered and got into bed.
He slept and he snored, but the poor lady's pain,
When her lord slept soundly, came on again.
It wore away
However by day
And when Brown called again she was smiling and gay;
But alas, he must say--to the lady's dismay--
In the town of his heart he had staid out his stay,
And must leave for his regiment with little delay.

Now Mrs. McNair
Was tall and fair,
Mrs. McNair was slim,
But the like of Brown was so wonderful rare
That she could not part with him.
Indeed you can see it was truly a pity,
For her husband was just going down to the city,
And Captain Brown--
The man of renown--
Could console her indeed were he only in town.
So McNair to the city the next Monday hied,
And left bold Captain Brown with his modest young bride.

As the serpent did Eve
Most sorely deceive--
Causing old father Adam to sorrow and grieve,
And us, his frail children, tho' punished and chidden,
To hanker for things that are sweet but forbidden--
The Captain so fair,
With his genius so rare,
Wound the web of enchantment round Mrs. McNair;
And alas, fickle Helen, ere three days were over,
She had sworn to elope with her brass-buttoned lover.
Like Helen, the Greek,
She was modest and meek,
And as fair as a rose, but a trifle too weak.
When a maid she had suitors as proud as Ulysses,
But she ne'er bent her neck to their arms or their kisses,
Till McNair he came in
With a brush on his chin--
It was love at first sight--but a trifle too th