urity age.

A doctor, a lawyer, a preacher,
He'll gobble one any fine day,
But the ladies, God bless 'em, he'll only address 'em
Politely and go on his way.

I can readily cite you an instance
Where a lovely young lady of Breem,
Who was tender and sweet and delicious to eat,
Fell into the bay with a scream.

She struggled and flounced in the water
And signaled in vain for her bark,
And she'd surely been drowned if she hadn't been found
By a chivalrous man-eating shark.

He bowed in a manner most polished,
Thus soothing her impulses wild;
"Don't be frightened," he said, "I've been properly bred
And will eat neither woman nor child."

Then he proffered his fin and she took it--
Such a gallantry none can dispute--
While the passengers cheered as the vessel they neared
And a broadside was fired in salute.

And they soon stood alongside the vessel,
When a life-saving dingey was lowered
With the pick of the crew, and her relatives, too,
And the mate and the skipper aboard.

So they took her aboard in a jiffy,
And the shark stood attention the while,
Then he raised on his flipper and ate up the skipper
And went on his way with a smile.

And this shows that the prince of the ocean,
To ladies forbearing and mild,
Though his record be dark, is the man-eating shark
Who will eat neither woman nor child.

[Footnote 2: From "Nautical Lays of a Landsman," by Wallace Irwin.
Copyright, 1904, by Dodd, Mead & Co.]

THE PLAINT OF JONAH

BY ROBERT J. BURDETTE

Why should I live, when every day
The wicked prospers in his way,
And daily adds unto his hoard,
While cutworms smite the good man's gourd?

When I would rest beneath its shade
Comes the shrill-voiced book-selling maid,
And smites me with her tireless breath--
Then am I angry unto death.

When I would slumber in my booth,
Who comes with accents loud and smooth,
And talks from dawn to midnight late?
The honest labor candidate.

Who pounds mine ear with noisy talk,
Whose brazen gall no ire can balk
And wearies me of life's short span?
The accident insurance man.

And when, all other torments flown,
I think to call one hour mine own,
Who takes my leisure by the throat?
The villain taking up a vote.

A