What She Said About It.

LYRICS to Inez and Jane, Dolores and Ethel and May; Señoritas distant as Spain,

And damsels just over the way!

It is not that I'm jealous, not that,
Of either Dolores or Jane,
Of some girl in an opposite flat,
Or in one of his castles in Spain.

But it is that, salable prose

Put aside for this profitless strain, I sit the day darning his hose,

And he sings of Dolores and Jane.

Though the winged horse we know must be free
To "spurn [for the pretty] the plain,"
Should the team-work fall wholly on me
While he soars with Dolores and Jane?

I am neither Dolores nor Jane,

But to lighten a little my life
Might the Poet not spare me a strain-
Although I am only his wife!

Charles Henry Webb.

A Metrical Miniature.

HER eyes display a blended hue
Of summer skies and violets blue,
With just a hint of April dew

To make her glances bright;
But, lest their luster be too fair,
And brighter than the world could bear,
Long lashes, like a silken snare,

Befringe her lids of white.

Shy apple-blossoms flushed with morn
Have lent their color to adorn
Her cheek, whereon is gaily born

A dimple with each smile.
Her wayward tresses scorn to rest
By ribbon bound or fillet prest,
And ever weave at their behest

Fresh graces to beguile.

Her curving lips by turns recall
Red roses, poppies, cherries-all
That wins the eye or could enthrall

A hermit or a saint.

Reflections.

THOSE are kind who give us, not what they think is fine, but what we ourselves want.

THE whim of to-day is the impulse of to-morrowthe wish of next week- the good or bad taste of next month—the habit of next year—the instinct of your descendants.

SOME people have to have their sunshine warm ; others are satisfied just with its being sunshine.

THE perfumes that women wear so extravagantly are a great mistake. Instead of reminding us sweetly of flowers, the flowers are beginning to remind us painfully of perfumes. I am beginning to hate violets.

THERE is such a thing as too much kindness; as if one should carefully toast the bread for a bird, or spread with mayonnaise the lettuce for a rabbit.

SHE rules me merely by expecting things of me which I should be ashamed not to be equal to.

SHE demanded the story of his past; but the question is less what our past has been, than what our past has made of us. Not" What were you?" but "What are you?"

PERHAPS the gods will forgive us for having loved a little things we ought not to have loved at all, if only we have loved most the things that we ought to love.

LIKE a serenade, outwardly wishing sweet rest and sleep to the beloved, but cunningly adapted to keep her very wide awake and attentive to the serenader.

TOLERATION of the intolerant is the hardest thing for a bigoted radical.

HE was willing to forgive them himself, but he hoped the Lord would n't.

THE test of a great love-yes, even of a supreme passion is not what it demands, but what it consents to do without.

SOME people think that they are good if they are doing good. Others think they are doing good merely by being good. Both are frequently mistaken, and certainly neither is complete. Again, some people think to make up for doing one thing very wrong by doing a great many little things that are very good; like a child who, planning to go fishing in the afternoon without asking for a permission which he fears may be refused, comforts his conscience by being particularly gentle and obedient all the forenoon in matters of no consequence. We call it hypocrisy when we find the forger or embezzler joining the church; but it is entirely possible that his feeling in doing so is not the culpable one of trying to conceal his sins, but the perfectly genuine wish to restore his self-respect by at least doing right somewhere.

I WONDER Why it is that the charm of the wholly reliable becomes monotonous, compared with the inherent witchery of moods which you never can predict. The perfectly delightful woman would perhaps be one of whom you would never feel quite sure as to what she was going to do, and then always find that she invariably did do the right thing.

WE speak sometimes of a "dominant "trait or passion or mode of thought; but it is often probable in a mind of this sort that there are really no other traits or passions or modes of thought. Mastery in one thing may mean merely the monotony of the whole. It is so much more fun to be richer than merely to be rich!

Alice Wellington Rollins.

What She Said About It.

LYRICS to Inez and Jane, Dolores and Ethel and May; Señoritas distant as Spain,

And damsels just over the way!

It is not that I'm jealous, not that,
Of either Dolores or Jane,
Of some girl in an opposite flat,
Or in one of his castles in Spain.

But it is that, salable prose

Put aside for this profitless strain, I sit the day darning his hose,

And he sings of Dolores and Jane.

Though the winged horse we know must be free
To "spurn [for the pretty] the plain,"
Should the team-work fall wholly on me
While he soars with Dolores and Jane?

I am neither Dolores nor Jane,

But to lighten a little my life Might the Poet not spare me a strain Although I am only his wife!

Charles Henry Webb.

A Metrical Miniature.

HER eyes display a blended hue
Of summer skies and violets blue,
With just a hint of April dew

To make her glances bright;
But, lest their luster be too fair,
And brighter than the world could bear,
Long lashes, like a silken snare,

Befringe her lids of white.

Shy apple-blossoms flushed with morn
Have lent their color to adorn
Her cheek, whereon is gaily born

A dimple with each smile.
Her wayward tresses scorn to rest
By ribbon bound or fillet prest,
And ever weave at their behest
Fresh graces to beguile.

Her curving lips by turns recall
Red roses, poppies, cherries—all
That wins the eye or could enthrall

A hermit or a saint.

Reflections.

THOSE are kind who give us, not what they think is fine, but what we ourselves want.

THE whim of to-day is the impulse of to-morrow the wish of next good or bad taste of next month the habit of next year- the instinct of your descendants.

SOME people have to have their sunshine warm; others are satisfied just with its being sunshine.

THE perfumes that women wear so extravagantly are a great mistake. Instead of reminding us sweetly of flowers, the flowers are beginning to remind us painfully of perfumes. I am beginning to hate violets.

THERE is such a thing as too much kindness; as if one should carefully toast the bread for a bird, or spread with mayonnaise the lettuce for a rabbit.

SHE rules me merely by expecting things of me which I should be ashamed not to be equal to.

SHE demanded the story of his past; but the question is less what our past has been, than what our past has made of us. Not" What were you?" but " What are you?"

PERHAPS the gods will forgive us for having loved a little things we ought not to have loved at all, if only we have loved most the things that we ought to love.

LIKE a serenade, outwardly wishing sweet rest and sleep to the beloved, but cunningly adapted to keep her very wide awake and attentive to the serenader.

TOLERATION of the intolerant is the hardest thing for a bigoted radical.

HE was willing to forgive them himself, but he hoped the Lord would n't."

THE test of a great love-yes, even of a supreme passion is not what it demands, but what it consents to do without.

SOME people think that they are good if they are doing good. Others think they are doing good merely by being good. Both are frequently mistaken, and certainly neither is complete. Again, some people think to make up for doing one thing very wrong by doing a great many little things that are very good; like a child who, planning to go fishing in the afternoon without asking for a permission which he fears may be refused, comforts his conscience by being particularly gentle and obedient all the forenoon in matters of no consequence. We call it hypocrisy when we find the forger or embezzler joining the church; but it is entirely possible that his feeling in doing so is not the culpable one of trying to conceal his sins, but the perfectly genuine wish to restore his self-respect by at least doing right somewhere.

I WONDER why it is that the charm of the wholly reliable becomes monotonous, compared with the inherent witchery of moods which you never can predict. The perfectly delightful woman would perhaps be one of whom you would never feel quite sure as to what she was going to do, and then always find that she invariably did do the right thing.

WE speak sometimes of a dominant "trait or passion or mode of thought; but it is often probable in a mind of this sort that there are really no other traits or passions or modes of thought. Mastery in one thing may mean merely the monotony of the whole.

Ir is so much more fun to be richer than merely to be rich!

Alice Wellington Rollins.