(_"A Woman's Question" is given on page 129 of Book I, "Poems Teachers
Ask For_.")

You say I have asked for the costliest thing
Ever made by the Hand above--
A woman's heart and a woman's life,
And a woman's wonderful love.

That I have written your duty out,
And, man-like, have questioned free--
You demand that I stand at the bar of your soul,
While you in turn question me.

And when I ask you to be my wife,
The head of my house and home,
Whose path I would scatter with sunshine through life,
Thy shield when sorrow shall come--

You reply with disdain and a curl of the lip,
And point to my coat's missing button,
And haughtily ask if I want a _cook_,
To serve up my _beef_ and my _mutton_.

'Tis a _king_ that you look for. Well, I am not he,
But only a plain, earnest man,
Whose feet often shun the hard path they should tread,
Often shrink from the gulf they should span.

'Tis hard to believe that the rose will fade
From the cheek so full, so fair;
'Twere harder to think that a heart proud and cold
Was ever reflected there.

True, the rose will fade, and the leaves will fall,
And the Autumn of life will come;
But the heart that I give thee will be true as in May,
Should I make it thy shelter, thy home.

Thou requir'st "all things that are good and true;
All things that a man should be";
Ah! lady, my _truth_, in return, doubt not,
For the rest, I leave it to thee.

_Nettie H. Pelham._

The Romance of Nick Van Stann

I cannot vouch my tale is true,
Nor say, indeed, 'tis wholly new;
But true or false, or new or old,
I think you'll find it fairly told.
A Frenchman, who had ne'er before
Set foot upon a foreign shore,
Weary of home, resolved to go
And see what Holland had to show.
He didn't know a word of Dutch,
But that could hardly grieve him much;
He thought, as Frenchmen always do,
That all the world could "parley-voo."
At length our eager tourist stands
Within the famous Netherlands,
And, strolling gaily here and there,
In search of something rich or rare,
A lordly mansion greets his eyes;
"How beautiful!" the Frenchman cries,
And, bowing to the man who sate
In livery at the garden gate,
"Pray, Mr. Porter, if you please,
Whose very charming grounds are these?
And, pardon me, be pleased to tell
Who in this splendid house may dwell."
To which, in Dutch, the puzzled man
Replied what seemed like "Nick Van Stann,"[*]

"Thanks!" said the Gaul;