other men that I wished miles
Away, enjoyed your glances.

Man loves as men loved in old times,
And as in legends hoary,
We celebrate a maid in rhymes,
Is that too old a story?
But still man loves one girl alone,
And flies when he discovers--
That she he thought was all his own,
Has half a dozen lovers.

You sighed and said that you felt hurt,
And prettily you pouted,
When anybody called you flirt,
A fact I never doubted.
And yet such wheedling ways you had,
Man yielded willy-nilly;
And half your swains were nearly mad,
And all of us were silly.

Youth's first illusions fly apace,
And now one man confesses
He scarcely can recal your face,
Or colour of your dresses.
And whether you were false or true,
Or what fate followed after,
Remembrance only keeps of you
The echo of your laughter.

* * * * *

PROVERBIAL PRAYER FOR A PAUPER-HATING BUMBLE.--Give me neither poverty
nor Ritchies!

* * * * *

A CREDITABLE INCIDENT IN THE NEXT WAR.

(_AN ADVANCE SHEET FROM MR. PUNCH'S PROPHETIC HISTORY OF EUROPE._)

["Italy is bound to maintain abroad the appearance of a great
and rich country, while at home she ought to conduct herself
as if in straitened circumstances."--_Daily Paper_.]

The Italian Army had been completely victorious. There was but one
drawback to the entire satisfaction of the Commander-in-Chief--one
of his favourite Generals was under arrest, and was being tried by
court-martial. The accused had refused the assistance of Counsel, and
had insisted upon pleading "Guilty."

"But," urged the Commander-in-Chief, "you surely have some excuse.
To sack a private house belonging to your own countryman was
unpardonable. It was an aimless piece of Vandalism! For your own
reputation--for the sake of your ancestors--on behalf of your
descendants--some explanation should be afforded."

"Surely this is no time for levity," murmured a Warrior-Journalist,
who was suspected of combining with the duties of a hero the labours
of a Special Correspondent for a Roman journal.

"Do I look like a jester?" asked the Prisoner; and then he added, "My
brave companions, it is for the honour of our country--to conceal her
poverty from the sneers of foreigners--that I carry with me the secret
of my action to the family vault. Press me no further--see, I am ready
for the fir