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“It is thus that I banish the sorrows, love,

It is thus that I wait day by day, Assured that a true heart in unison beats With mine own, though I'm far, far

away. “Then still think of me, as—"

God ! in yonder track What moves in the darkness so silent and slow? They are men, they are men,-'tis a midnight attack !

There's a flash from his gun, there's a shriek from the foe.

'Twas enough ; for that bullet, sent true to its mark,

Unmasked their design, and fast spread the alarms, And the bugles rang out their wild notes in the dark,

And from slumber's sweet dreams sprang the soldiers to


The charge was repulsed in disaster and flight,

And the ground by the river was strewn with the slain; But the strife was renewed by the dawn's early light,

And the ground was charged over again and again.
Ere nightfall the sunlight in victory kissed

And bathed in effulgence of rich golden hue,
Till it seemed that the rainbow its brilliancy missed,

The glorious flag of the red, white, and blue.

By the calm Rappahannock is many a grave,
Where they “carved not a line" and they “raised not a

The beroes who tried their dear country to save,-

And our sweet midnight singer lies buried in one. And over that grave, from the earliest spring

Till the last leaves have fallen from each woodland tree, The birds of the valley his requiem sing,

As the calm Rappabannock flows on to the sea.


She tole me sumfin defful !

It almost made me cry!
I never will b'lieve it,

It mus' be all a lie!
I mean, she mus' be 'staken.

I know she b’oke my heart;

I never can forgive her!

That horrid Maggie Start. Tuesdays, she does her bakin's!

An' so, I fought, you see,
I'd make some fimble cookies

For Arabella's tea.
An' so I took my dollies

An' set 'em in a row,
Where they could oversee me

When I mixed up my dough. An' when I'd wolled an' mixed it

Free minutes, or an hour, Somehow I dwopped my woller,

An’spilt a lot of flour. An' I was defful firsty,

An' fought I'd help myself To jes' a little dwop of milk

Off from the pantry shelf. So I weached up on tip-toe,

But, quicker than a flash,
The horrid pan turned over,

An' down it came, ker-splash!
Oh, then you should have seen her

Rush frough that pantry door!
“An' this is where you be!” she said,

“Oh, what a lookin' floor!You, an' your dolls—I'll shake you all.

I'll shake you black 'n' blue!” “ You shall not touch us, Miss," I cried,

“We're jest as good as you ! An' I will tell my mofer,

The minute she gets home, An' I will tell ole Santa Claus,

An' i'll tell Oh, then you should have heard her laugh

“Tell Santa Claus, indeed! I'd like to have you find him, first,

The humbug never lived !” "What do you mean, you Maggie Start,

Is dear old Santa dead ?” * Old Santa never lived," she cried

And that is what she said. -Good Cheer

every one.



MR. ALEXANDER DABBLETON, suddenly seized with an economical streak.
MR8. ALEXANDER DABBLETON, although disagreeing, acquiescer.

a recently married couple.
DOCTOR, who is laboring under a misapprehension.

Maggie, who, if she wasn't Irish, might have been "Frinch." SCENE.- Mrs. Dabbleton's sitting-room. Entrances at right and

left. Mrs. Dabbleton discovered looking over a dress as Mr. Duis Bleton enters at right.

MR. DABBLETON. Lila, dearest, as I entered, I encountered your maid going, in haste, for the seamstress. Pending a proposition to you, I detained her and she awaits below.

Mrs. DABBLETOV. Why, Alexander, love, I intend having this dress altered and had sent Maggie with a note to Miss Stitcher to come to-morrow.

MR. D. Precisely, love, so you did, but the fact is, I met Jack Pimpers down town to-day; and Jack, you know, hasn't been married quite a year and he said that his wife made all her own dresses and altered her old ones, when necessary.

Mrs. D. And, I presume, trimmed her own hats- cookod the meals-scrubbed the floors—sifted the ashes-beat the carpets - washed the windows

MR. D. (interrupting.) Now, Lila, dear, don't go off into one of your sarcastic monologues as you always do, whenever I tell you what I merely heard. Jack only mentioned dresses.

Mrs. D. But, Alexander, you surely mean something when you have stopped Maggie from delivering my note.

MR. D. Well! my dear, can't my little wife learn to practise economy? I am afraid I have been too indulgent with you, Lila. Why not alter that skirt yourself?

MRS. D. But I really do not know how, love. At tho school, where I was educated, I was only taught music, emSroidery and such like accomplishments in connection with ny studies,—not dressmaking.

MR. D. Then, darling, this will be a good opportunity to pake a beginning.

“In economy

there is wealth." Mrs. D. Suppose I should spoil it? The material is too expensive to practise on.

Copyright, 1892.

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MR. D. Nonsense, love; you know what design you want? MRS. D. Y-e-s; I have patterns.

MR. D. Well then, let me inform Maggie that she need not deliver your letter. (Goes to door and gives directions.) There, now. I am quite sure that this will prove a delightful experience. (Sits at table, takes up evening paper.)

Mrs. D. But I have no dummy, Alexander.
MR. D. Dummy? Dummy?
MRS. D. Yes,-a form.
MR. D. You have no form; why, my dear
MRS. D. I mean a model,-a lay-figure.

MR. D. Oh! I see; well, do as all dressmakers do, by measurements. Why my tailor does not depend on a "dummy," my dear, he just marks out what he wants; cuts it, sews it, and there you are.

MRS. D. Doesn't he try it on you?

MR. D. Well, y-e-s—but you can easi'y slipin and out of It yourself and get the gauge by your dairror; you women bave a way for that, I'll warrant.

Mrs. D. But I must have something to diapa it upon. MR. D. Then, my love, use Maggie.

Mrs. D. (laughing.) The idea! Maggie is much stouter than 1

MR. D. Well! you can allow say, an inch or iwo.

MRS. D. (suddenly.) Alexander, dear, if it is your wish for me to alter this skirt myself, I will use you.

MR. D. Use me, Lila!
Mrs. D. Yes, for draping.
MR. D. All folly, dear, besides I want to read the paper.
MRS. D. (coyly.) Hadn't I better send for Miss Stitcher ?

MR. D. Well! h’m-certainly not. I'll gratify you with the use of my person but I am sure that it is all unnecessary.

Mrs. D. (pouting.) Alexander, you are unkind.

MR. D. (arising quickly.) There—there-sweetness, I don't want to distress you, come, what must I do?

MRS. D. Take off your coat, dear. (Mr. D. removes coat.) MR. D. And vest ?

MRS. D. Oh, no! Now put this skirt on. (Mr. D. does no, making many mistakes.)

MR. D. I wouldn't be a woman for worlds.
MRS. D. Now love, let me draw it in around the waist.


MR. D. Stop, Lila, stop! I can't breathe; why I would die of heart failure if you persisted in squeezing me in that way, no wonder you women die of congested liver and con. tracted diaphragm.

Mrs. D. There-how is that? Now do not move.

MR. D. Move, my love, why I couldn't if I wanted to; I'm in a vise. (Mrs. D. drops on her knees and arranged skirt.)

Mrs. D. Let me pin it up here—and there. I think that would look better this way. It wants gathering here.

MR. D. Lila, you've got all those pins stuck through my trousers.

Mrs. D. (sternly.) Alexander, I think that you find an awful lot of fault; I told you how it would be. Lean farther over,

Mr. D. My dear, if I lean much farther over, I'll go on my nose.

MRS. D. Step out a little—there; be careful ; n't fall. Mr. D. My love, it's a good thing that my life's insured.

Mrs. D. (surveying with critical eye.) I don't like the sweer of this train; it wants a little more of a curve-I think that one plait will do it. (Mr. D. endeavors to see and nearly falls over.}

Mr. D. Lila, dear, I-I fear something has ripped. No it hasn't either (eramining); it's one of my suspender buttone

Mrs. D. Now take it off. I have a few stitches to put in and then you must try it on again to see if it is right.

Mr. D. Is that customary? (Takes off dress.)

Mrs. D. Why, yes; and besides I am inexperienced ano it will take me longer. (Begins to sew.)

MR. D. In that case whilst you are putting in the stitches I'll read my paper.

Mrs. D. Oh, I'm all ready now. Put it on again. (He does 80.) There now, all that trouble for nothing. I did not tack it in the right place. Now take it off. (He does so.)

MR. D. (pacing the floor.) Great Cæsar! I hope you will get it in shape this time.

MRS. D. Try it on again. (He does 90, nearly falling.) Be careful. (She sits on floor and gazes at dress.)

MR. D. (impatiently.) Well! what are you looking at?

MRS. D. I really don't know what to do with it. It is not right after all.

MR. D. Why don't you think. Am I to stand here all night like a wax figure ?

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