Women, you know, are fond of reasons why Would you not have me marry? How you look! Is it because you do not know the reason? You mind me of a story of a cousin Who once her cousin such a question asked. He had not been to college, though, for books, Had passed his time in reading ladies' eyes, Which he could construe marvellously well, Though writ in language all symbolical. Thus stood they once together, on a dayAs we stand now - discoursed as we discourse, But with this difference, - fifty gentle words He spoke to her, for one she spoke to him!What a dear cousin! well, as I did say, As now I questioned thee, she questioned him. And what was his reply? To think of it Sets my heart beating So like a cousin's answer 'twas so kind a one! - a dear cousin! A gentle, honest, gallant, loving cousin! Modus. On my soul I can't tell. Hel. A man might find it out, Though never read he Ovid's Art of Love. Hel. Yes. Modus. I'm sure you're not. Modus. Nay, let me hold you, cousin! I like it. Hel. Do you? I would wager you You could not tell me why you like it. Well! You see how true I know you! How you stare! What see you in my face to wonder at? Modus. A pair of eyes! Hel. At last he'll find his tongue-[Aside.] And saw you ne'er a pair of eyes before? Modus. Not such a pair. Hel. And why? Modus. They are so bright! You have a Grecian nose. Hel. Indeed? Modus. Indeed! Hel. What kind of mouth have I? I never saw so sweet a pair of lips! I ne'er saw lips at all till now, dear cousin! you need not hold me now. take't away! So tight it locks me, 'tis with pain I breathe! Let me go, cousin! Wherefore do you hold Your face so close to mine? What do you mean? Hel. Modus. The use of lips? Hel. To speak. Modus. Naught else? Hel. How bold my modest cousin grows! Why, other use know you? Modus. I do. Hel. Indeed! You're wondrous wise! And pray, what is it? Modus. This! [Attempts to kiss her. Hel. Soft! My hand thanks you, cousin, for my lips, I keep them for a husband! [Crosses, R.] Nay, stand off! I'll not be held in manacles again! Why do you follow me? Modus. I love you, cousin! That's passing strange! Falls out most crossly - is a dire mishap A thing to sigh for, weep for, languish for, Modus. Die for! Hel. Yes, with laughter, cousin! For, cousin, I love you! Modus. And you'll be mine? Hel. I will. Modus. Your hand upon it. Hel. Hand and heart. Hie to thy dressing-room, and I'll to mine so will I. Whoe'er may claim me, thou'rt the man shall have me. Modus. And cousin! stop one little word with you! BIDDY'S TROUBLES. "It's thru for me, Katy, that I never seed the like of this people afore. It's a sorry time I've been having since coming to this house, twelve months agone this week Thursday. Yer knew, honey, that my fourth coosin, Ann Macarthy, recommended me to Mrs. Whaler, and told the lady that I knew about ginteel housework and the likes; while at the same time I had niver seed inter an American lady's kitchen. So she engaged me, and my heart was jist ready to burst wid grief for the story that Ann had told, for Mrs. Whaler was a swate-spoken lady, and never looked crosslike in her life; that I knew by her smooth kind face. Well, jist the first thing she told me to do, after I dressed the children, was to dress the ducks for dinner. stood looking at the lady for a couple of minutes, before I could make out any meaning at all to her words. Thin I went searching after clothes for the ducks; and such a time as I had to be sure. High and low I went, till at last my mistress axed me for what I was looking; and I told her the clothes for the ducks, to be sure. Och, how she scramed and laughed, till my face was as rid as the sun wid shame, and she showed me in her kind swate way what her meaning was. Thin she told me how to air the beds; and it was a day for me, indade, when I could go up chamber alone and clare up the rooms. One day Mrs. Whaler said to me, 666 will.' ‘Biddy, an' ye may give the baby an airin', if yees "What should I do and it's thru what I am saying this blessed minute- but go up stairs wid the child, and shake it, and then howld it out of the winder. Such a screaming and kicking as the baby gave - but I hild on the harder. Everybody thin in the strate looked up at me; at last misthress came up to see what for was so much noise. 666 I am thrying to air the baby,' I said, 'but it kicks and scrames dridfully.' "There was company down below; and whin Mrs. Whaler told them what I had been after doing, I thought they would scare the folks in the strate wid scraming. "And then I was told I must do up Mr. Whaler's sharts one day when my mistress was out shopping. She told me repeatedly to do them up nice, for master was going away; so I takes the sharts and did them all up in some paper that I was after bringing from the ould counthry wid me, and tied some nice pink ribbon around the bundle. "Where are the sharts, Biddy?' axed Mrs. Whaler, when she comed home. 666 "I have been doing them up in a quair nice way,' I said, bringing her the bundle. "Will you iver be done wid your graneness?' she axed me with a loud scrame. "I can't for the life of me be tellin' what their talkin' manes. At home we call the likes of this fine work starching; and a deal of it I have done, too. Och! and may the blessed vargin pity me, for I never'll be cured of my graneness!" THE MAN WITH A COLD IN HIS HEAD. By dabe is Jodes - Daddle Jodes. I ab the bost biserable bad udder the sud. I ab eterdally catchig cold; by doze is everlastigly blaguing so that I dever cad talk plaid. I have tried every thig id the world to prevedt it, but the cold will cub in spite of be. Subber ad widter, it is all the sabe. I breathe through by bouth frob Jaduary to Decebber, frob the begiddig to the edd ob the year. tried Allopathy, Hydropathy, Hobeopathy, and Tobsodiadisb; every systeb of bedicid, but id vaid. All kides of teas, drobs, add old wibbed's dostrubs have bid tried; I've swallowed edough of theb to drowd be; but's do use. Dothig I've udder heaved cad keep by feet warb, dothig keep be frob catchig cold. I I ab dot rich, I ab dot poor; but I rather be a beggar, ad orgad grider's budkey, the beadest thig you could dabe adythig rather thad be a bab with a stopped up doze. ab very fod of wibbed's society, but I dare dot go idto cubpady; people are too polite to evidce disgust, but everybody becubs udeasy whedever I vedture dear theb. I wad't to barry; but doboddy will have be with my doze dever! dever! Oh! I ab idcodeceivably udhappy! Sub years ago I fell id love with a charbig girl. Her father was a bad of beads, ad she was the bost widding little dabsel id the world. Ad she alode of all the world seebed dot to bide by bisfortude. Ad I loved her with a love of undibadgidable idtedsity; every atob of my beig adored her. I deterbided to seredade her. Accordigly I shut byself hup id my roob ad waited a log tibe, udtil by cold got albost edtirely well. At last, wud fide Autub dight, I vedtured forth, wrapped up to the eyes id cloaks, overcoats, shawls, ad what dot; ob by feet I wore the thickest kide of gub shoes. A bad of busiciads wedt alog with be. 'Twas after eleved o'clock whed we reached her residedce id a fashiodable ad retired street. After the bad had played a dubber of fide tudes, edough I thought to hab waked her, I ordered theb to stop, so that I bight sig. I had studied seberal sogs, all bore or less sedibedtal ad beladcholy, udtil I thought I was perfect. But do sooder had I pulled the hadkerchief off by doze ad bouth thad I caught cold. I cobbedced, 'Twas ted o'clock wud boodlight dight,” it souded very badly, so I thought I would try "Whed twilight dews are fallig fast:" but that was albost as bad as the first. But I had cub there too sig, ad sig I bust. So I sug at the top of by voice, "Cub, oh cub with be, The stars are gleabig, Ad all aroud, above, Boodlight hours are the best for love! ad so forth. |