of how love first started? What one of them can tell you a
thing concerning the original osculation--that primary amatory congress
which was the beginning of the beginning?--

Bathed in Bathybian bliss
And sunk in the slush of the sea,
Thrilled the first molecular kiss,
The beginning of you and of me.

The Atom of Oxygen blushed
When it felt fair Hydrogen's breath,
The Atom of Nitrogen rushed
Eager to Life out of Death.

Through Ocean's murmuring dell
Ran a whisper of rapture Elysian;
Across that Bathybian jell
Ran a crack that whispered of fission.

Alas! that such things should be,
That cruel unkind separation,
Adown in the depths of the sea
Should follow the first osculation.

O tender lover and miss,
You cannot remember too well
That the first molecular kiss
Was the first Bathybian sell.

Not only are women rapidly invading the domain of chemistry, but they
are also the yellow peril of her sister science, pharmacy. A drug-store
without a dimpled damsel is now a fit subject for the sheriff's
hammer.--

There in the corner pharmacy,
This lithesome lady lingers,
And potent pills and philters true
Are fashioned by her fingers.

Her phiz behind the soda fount
May oft be seen in summer;
How sweetly foams the soda fizz,
When you receive it from her.

While mixing belladonna drops
With tincture of lobelia,
And putting up prescriptions, she
Is fairer than Ophelia.

Each poison has its proper place,
Each potion in its chalice;
Her daedal fingers are so deft,
They call her digit-Alice.

Love has been the theme of every age and of every tongue. It is the test
of youth and of the capability of progress. So long as a man can and
does love, he is young and there is hope for him. Whoever saw a
satisfactory definition of love? No one, simply because the science of
physical chemistry is yet young, and it is only when moulded by the
principles of that science that the definition is complete and
intelligible. Love is the synchronous vibration of two cardiac cells,
both of which, were it not for the ethics of etymology, should begin
with an S. Love is the source of eternal youth, of senile recrudescence.
It is the philosopher's stone, the elixir of life, the fountain of
flowers. So love changes not--the particular object is not of much
importance. One should never be a bigot in anything and a wise man