grave." Wait till society gives welcome in the brilliant
ball, and the swallow-tail coat, and the patent leather pumps whirl with
the decollette and white slippers till the stars are drowning in the
light of morning. Wait till the graduate staggers from the giddy hall,
in full evening dress, singing as he staggers:

"After the ball is over, after the break of morn,
After the dancer's leavin', after the stars are gone;
Many a heart is aching, if we could read them all--
Many the hopes that are vanished, after the ball."

[Illustration: AFTER THE BALL.]

It is then that "somebody's darling" has reached the full tide of his
glory as a fool.

THE PARADISE OF HOME.

How rich would be the feast of happiness in this beautiful world of
ours, could folly end with youth. But youth is only the first act in
the "Comedy of Errors." It is the pearly gate that opens to the real
paradise of fools.

"It's pleasures are like poppies spread--
You seize the flower, its bloom is shed,
Or like the snowfall on the river--
A moment white then melts forever."

Whether it be the child at its mother's knee or the man of mature years,
whether it be the banker or the beggar, the prince in his palace or the
peasant in his hut, there is in every heart the dream of a happier lot
in life.

I heard the sound of revelry at the gilded club, where a hundred hearts
beat happily. There were flushed cheeks and thick tongues and jests and
anecdotes around the banquet spread. There were songs and poems and
speeches. I saw an orator rise to respond to a toast to "Home, sweet
home," and thus he responded:

"Mr. Chairman and Gentlemen: John Howard Payne touched millions of
hearts when he sang:

'Mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam,
Be it ever so humble, there's no place like home.

But as for me, gentlemen, give me the pleasures an' the palaces--give me
liberty, or give me death. No less beautifully expressed are the tender
sentiments expressed in the tender verse of Lord Byron:

"'Tis sweet to hear the watchdog's honest bark
Bay deep mouthed welcome as we draw near home;
'Tis sweet to know there is an eye will mark our coming,
And look brighter when we come."

But as for me, gentlemen, I would rather hear the barkin' of a gatlin'
gun than to hear the watch dog's honest bark this minute. I would rather
look into the mouth of a cannon than to look into the eyes that are now
waitin' to