ze,
And music is shrieking away;
Terpsichore governs the hour,
And fashion was never so gay!
An arm round a tapering waist--
How closely and fondly it clings!
So they waltz, and they waltz, and they waltz--
And that's what they do at the Springs!

In short--as it goes in the world--
They eat, and they drink, and they sleep;
They talk, and they walk, and they woo;
They sigh, and they laugh, and they weep;
They read, and they ride, and they dance
(With other remarkable things):
They pray, and they play, and they PAY--
And _that's_ what they do at the Springs!

THE SEA.

BY EVA L. OGDEN.

She was rich and of high degree;
A poor and unknown artist he.
"Paint me," she said, "a view of the sea."
So he painted the sea as it looked the day
That Aphrodite arose from its spray;
And it broke, as she gazed in its face the while
Into its countless-dimpled smile.
"What a pokey stupid picture," said she;
"I don't believe he _can_ paint the sea!"

Then he painted a raging, tossing sea,
Storming, with fierce and sudden shock,
Wild cries, and writhing tongues of foam,
A towering, mighty fastness-rock.
In its sides above those leaping crests,
The thronging sea-birds built their nests.
"What a disagreeable daub!" said she;
"Why it isn't anything like the sea!"

Then he painted a stretch of hot, brown sand,
With a big hotel on either hand,
And a handsome pavilion for the band,--
Not a sign of the water to be seen
Except one faint little streak of green.
"What a perfectly exquisite picture," said she;
"It's the very _image_ of the sea."
--_Century Magazine_.

A TALE OF A NOSE.

BY CHARLES F. ADAMS.

'Twas a hard case, that which happened in Lynn.
Haven't heard of it, eh? Well, then, to begin,
There's a Jew down there whom they call "Old Mose,"
Who travels about, and buys old clothes.

Now Mose--which the same is short for Moses--
Had one of the biggest kind of noses:
It had a sort of an instep in it,
And he fed it with snuff about once a minute.

One day he got in a bit of a row
With a German chap who had