e?
Yes? All right, then go and find
Mother's picture--"Papa!"--Mind!
She and I were married. You
Were our youngest. Now you, too,
Raise the same old anthems till
All the church is hushed and still
With a single soul to hear.
Do I flatter? Ah, my dear,
Time has brought my last desire--
Tildy still _is_ in the choir!

FREDERIC LAWRENCE KNOWLES.
_Wesleyan Literary Monthly_.

~A Memory.~

We sat in the lamplight's gentle glow,
Alone on the winding stair,
And the distant strains of a waltz fell low
On the fragrance-laden air.
I caught from her lips a murmured "yes,"
And the stately palms amid
There came a blissful, sweet caress--
I shouldn't have--but I did!

I might forget that joyous night,
As the months slip swiftly by;
I might forget the gentle light
That shone in her hazel eye;
But I can't forget that whispered "yes"
That came the palms amid,
I can't forget that one caress--
I shouldn't have--but I did!

GUY WETMORE CARRYL
_Columbia Spectator._

~The American Girl.~

The German may sing of his rosy-cheeked lass,
The French of his brilliant-eyed pearl;
But ever the theme of my praises shall be
The laughing American girl,
Yes, the jolly American girl.

She laughs at her sorrows, she laughs at her joys,
She laughs at Dame Fortune's mad whirl;
And laughing will meet all her troubles in life,
The laughing American girl,
Yes, the joyous American girl.

You say she can't love if she laughs all the time?
A laugh at your logic she'll hurl;
She loves while she laughs and she laughs while she loves,
The laughing American girl,
Oh, the laughing American girl!

S.F.P.
_Campus_.

~Ballade of Justification.~

A jingle of bells and a crunch of snow,
Skies that are clear as the month of May,
Winds that merrily, briskly blow,
A pretty girl and a cozy sleigh,
Eyes that are bright and laughter gay,
All that favors Dan Cupid's art;
I was but twenty. What can you say
If I confess I lost my heart?

What if I answered in whispers low,
Begged that she would not say me nay,
Asked if my love she did not know,
What if I did? Who blames me, pray?
Suppose she blushed. 'Tis the proper way
For lovely maidens to play their part.
Does it seem too much for a blush to pay
If I confess I lost my heart?

What if I drove extremely slow,
Was there not cause enough to stay?
Such opportunities do not grow
Right in one's pathway every day;
Cupid I dared not disobey,
If