"It is thus that I banish the sorrows, love, 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, arms. 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, By the calm Rappahannock is many a grave, Where they "carved not a line" and they “raised not a stone,-" The heroes 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 Rappahannock flows on to the sea. WHAT SHE SAID.-SARAH DE WOLF Gamwell. 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! Where they could oversee me An' when I'd wolled an' mixed it An' fought I'd help myself So I weached up on tip-toe, An' down it came, ker-splash! "You, an' your dolls-I'll shake you all An' I will tell my mofer, The minute she gets home, An' I will tell ole Santa Claus, An' I'll tell every one." Oh, then you should have heard her laughi "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. AN ECONOMICAL BOOMERANG.*-W. H. NEALL CHARACTERS. MR. ALEXANDER DABBLETON, suddenly seized with an economical streak. MR. BIRD PLOVER, MRS. BIRD PLOVER, 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. Dubbleton 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. DABBLETON. 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-cooked 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 prac tise 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 the 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 make a beginning. "In economy there is wealth.” MRS. D. Suppose I should spoil it? The material is toce Expensive to practise on. Copyright, 1892. 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. MR. D. Yes,—a form. You have no form; why, my dearMRS. 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 easily slip in and out of It yourself and get the gauge by your mirror; you women have a way for that, I'll warrant. MRS. D. But I must have something to drape it upon. MRS. D. 1am. (laughing.) The idea! Maggie is much stouter than MR. D. Well! you can allow say, an inch or two. MRS. D. (suddenly.) Alexander, dear, if it is your wish for me to alter this skirt myself, I will use you. 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 so, naking 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 arranges 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; don'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 sweep 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 (examining); it's one of my suspender buttons 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 and 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 so.) 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 so, 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? |