Look backward, and one stands perplexed, Whether to chuckle or to shiver.

One day a holocaust, the next

A simple picnic up the river.

The banker, in a private way

As kind as Pythias to Damon,

Will, when some poor man fails to pay

The brickbat he has punched his name on, Slay him, and spend the money straight Ön new-winged lions for his gate.

Yet friends lay off their skirted coats,
While on the roofs the doves are cooing,
Lean on the wall, comparing notes

On how their rose-bushes are doing.
One reckless talker, maybe, dares
Doubt if the king (his accents bated)

Has really killed so many bears

As the official notice stated. Then scolds his beard, which will not stay In curl for more than half a day. 'And so they lived until the Mede

Battered the good old town to flinders, And it was buried deep indeed

In shifting sands and drifting cinders. Yet so much worse wrought slander's voice Than those who on the ramparts battled That Ninevites who had the choice

Of foes that fought or foes that tattled Would say, "We 'll take, by Ishtar! please Our chances with Cyaxares!"

TO A LADY

BY FRANKLIN P. ADAMS

LADY, think you I am lonely
When your self is otherwhere?
Think you that you are the only
One supremely fair?

Think you in the splendid city.

There is not another faceNone that seems to me so prettyNone with half the grace?

Think you I have naught to do but

Build for you the Lofty Rhyme? Think you that I think of you but Three thirds of the time?

Lady, an so be that way your

Thinking takes its turn to-night, Then, O Lady, I should say you 're Absolutely right.

"TO-DAY 's our anniversary," said Jim.

"What do you say,

Dear Nettie, if, to celebrate, I take you to the play?"

"Oh that would be just lovely!" cried Nettie in delight.

"But, Jim-what would Belinda say?" She paused in sudden fright.

"I had n't thought of that," said Jim, "I 'll tell you what we 'll do:

We'll send her to your mother's house to spend a day or two."

They put Belinda in a cab, and watched her drive away,

Then spent a happy evening at a most unhappy play.

When Jim and Nettie reached their gate at twelve that night they learned

From Belinda's lighted window that their daughter had returned.

With shoes in hand and beating hearts they started up the stairs,

But courage failed-and down they crept, and spent the night in chairs.