DIGNIFIED COURTSHIP. His hand and heart he'd offered, He lingered at the gate with her, I would ask before I go, "A favor never asked before; "If you wait," the maiden whispered, THE SWELL IN A HORSE-CAR.-G. W. KYLE I say! I wonder why fellahs ever wide in horse-cars? I've been twying all day to think why fellahs ever do it, weally! I know some fellahs that are in business, down town, you know-C. B. Jones, cotton dealer; Smith Brothers, woolen goods; Bwown & Company, stock bwokers and that sort of thing, you know-who say they do it every day. If I was to do it every day, my funeral would come off in about a week. 'Pon my soul, it would. I wode in a horse-car one day. Did it for a lark. Made a bet I would wide in a horse-car, 'pon my soul, I did. So I went out on the pavement before the clubhouse and called one. I said, "Horse-car! horse car!" but not one of 'em stopped, weally! Then I saw that fellahs wun after them,---played tag with them, you know, as the dweadful little girls do when school is coming out. ་་ And sometimes they caught the cars-ah-and sometimes they did not. So I wun after one, I did weally, and I caught it. I was out of bweath, you know, and a fellah on the platform-a conductor fellah-poked me in the back and said, “Come! move up! make room for this lady!" Ah-by Jove he did, you know! I looked for the lady, so (using eye-glass), but I could see no lady, and I said so. There was a female person behind me, with a large market-basket, cwowded with ah-vegetables and such dweadful stuff--and another person with a bundle and another with a baby, you know. The person with the basket prodded me in the back with it, and I said to the conductor fellah, said I, " Where shall I sit down? I-ah-don't see any seat, you know. (Uses eye-glass.) The seats seem to be occupied by persons, conductor," said I. "Where shall I sit?" He was wude, very wude, indeed, and he said, "You can sit on your thumb if you have a mind to." And when I wemonstrated with him he only laughed at me. After a while one of the persons got out and I sat down; it was vewy disagweeable! Opposite me there were several persons belonging to the labowing classes, with what I pwesume to be lime on their boots; and tin kettles which they carried for some mysterious purpose in their hands. There was a person with a large basket, and a colored person. Next to me there sat a fellah that had been eating onions! 'Twas vewy offensive! I couldn't stand it! No fellah could, you know. I had heard that if any one in a car was annoyed by a fellahpassenger he should weport it to the conductor. So I said, “Conductor! put this person out of the car! he annoys me vewy much. He has been eating onions." But the conductor fellah only laughed. He did, indeed! And the fellah that had been eating onions said, "Hang yer impidence, what do you mean by that?" "It's extwemely disagweeable, you know, to sit near one who has been eating onions," said I. "I think you ought to resign, get out, you know" And then, though I'm sure I spoke in the most wespectfully manner, he put his fist under my nose and wemarked, "You'll eat that, hang you, in a minute!" he did indeed. And a fellah opposite said, "Put a head on him, Jim!" I suppose from his tone that it was some colloquial expwession of the lower orders, referring to a personal attack. It was vewy disagweeable, indeed. I don't see why any fellah ever wides in the horse-cars. But I didn't want a wow, you know. A fellah is apt to get a black eye, and a black eye spoils one's appeawance, don't you think? So I said, "Beg pardon, I'm sure." The fellah said, “Oh, hang you!" he did, indeed. He was a vewy ill-bred person. And all this time the car kept stopping and more persons of the lower orders kept getting on. Α very dweadful woman with a vewy dweadful baby stood right before me, intercepting my view of the street; and the baby had an orange in one hand and some candy in the other. And I was wondering why persons of the lower classes were allowed to have such dirty babies, and why Bergh or some one didn't interfere, you know, when, before I knew what she was doing, that dweadful woman sat that dweadful baby wight down on my lap! She did, indeed. And it took hold of my shirt bosom with one of its sticky hands and took my eye-glass away with the other, and upon my honor, I'm quite lost without my eye-glass. "You'll have to kape him till I find me money," said the woman. "Weally!" said I, "I'm not a nursery-maid, ma'am." Then the people about me laughed, they did, indeed. I could not endure it. I jumped up and dwopped the baby in the straw. "Stop the car, conductor," said I, "stop the car." What do you suppose he said? "Hurry up now, be lively, be lively, don't keep me waiting all day!" And I was about to wemonstrate with him upon the impwopwiety of speaking so to a gentleman, when he pushed me off the car. That was the only time I ever wode in a horse car. I wonder why fellahs ever do wide in horse-cars? I should think they would pwefer cabs, you know. JAQUELINE.-GEO. M. VICKERS. Little Jaqueline sat 'neath an old oaken tree, And her dark chestnut ringlets fell reckless and free While from under her hat beamed the loveliest eyes, That kind Heaven e'er lavished on maiden. And the air with their scent richly laden. It was witching to gaze on those round, faultless arms, Yet no phantom was she, for her womanly charms In that lonely retreat, 'neath the old oaken tree, Oh, the morning was bright, and the wedding was grand! And the gossips, who seek only what we would hide, In a calm, far away, on the Indian sea, On the deck of a barque, sat a group of Jack tars Twas the arin of a landsman that lay on the knee Only "Jaqueline "-hurriedly hid by his sleeve, Such a warm heart and true, how could maiden deceive? Twenty years have gone by. See that hollow-cheeked dame That is Jaqueline; changed, quite, in all but the name. Poor mistaken; how sinful her secret regret! To the man she has promised to cherish! The fond yearning that never can perish. Then her child, the loved fetter that binds her to life, There she sits, smiling down her soul's anguish and strife, If ye marry too soon, if ye marry too late, May in time crave the love that was slighted. Oh, the joy of the soul is in greeting its mate, WHAT ONE BOY THINKS.-HARRIET PRESCOTT SPOFFORD And I've hunted for the glasses till I thought my head was splitting, When there upon her forehead as calm as clocks they lay. |