Point Lace and Diamonds | Page 4

from the pretty suit;?For Winthrop died in the black and gray.
In the shameful days in sixty-three,?When the city fluttered in abject fear,?'Neath the mob's rude grasp, who ever thought--?"God! if the Seventh were only here!"?Our drums were heard--the ruffian crew?Grew tired of riot the self-same day--?By chance of course--you don't suppose?They feared the dandies in black and gray!
So we dance and flirt in our listless style?While the waltzes dream in the drill-room arch,?What would we do if the order came,?Sudden and sharp--"Let the Seventh march!"?Why, we'd faint, of course; our cheeks would pale;?Our knees would tremble, our fears--but stay,?That order I think has come ere this?To those holiday troops in black and gray.
"What would we do!" We'd drown our drums?In a storm of cheers, and the drill-room floor?Would ring with rifles. Why, you fools,?We'd do as we've always done before!?Do our duty! Take what comes?With laugh and jest, be it feast or fray--?But we're dandies--yes, for we'd rather die?Than sully the pride of our black and gray.
AFTER THE GERMAN.?A SOPHOMORE SOLILOQUY.
Blackboard, with ruler and rubber before me,?Chalk loosely held in my hand,?Sun-gilded motes in the air all around me,?Listlessly dreaming I stand.
What do I care for the problem I've written?In characters gracefully slight,?As the festal-robed beauties whose fairy feet flitted?Through the maze of the German last night!
What do I care for the lever of friction,?For sine, or co-ordinate plane,?When fairy musicians are playing the "Mabel,"?And waltzes each nerve in my brain!
On my coat's powdered chalk, not the dust of the diamond That only last night sparkled there,?By the galop's wild whirl shower'd down on my shoulder?From turbulent tresses of hair.
In my ear is the clatter of chalk against blackboard,?Not music's voluptuous swell;?Alas! this is life,--so pass mortal pleasures,?And,--thank goodness, there goes the bell!
AN IDYL OF THE PERIOD.?IN TWO PARTS.?PART ONE.
"Come right in. How are you, Fred??Find a chair, and get a light."?"Well, old man, recovered yet?From the Mather's jam last night?"?"Didn't dance. The German's old."?"Didn't you? I had to lead--?Awful bore! Did you go home?"?"No. Sat out with Molly Meade.?Jolly little girl she is--?Said she didn't care to dance,?'D rather sit and talk to me--?Then she gave me such a glance!?So, when you had cleared the room,?And impounded all the chairs,?Having nowhere else, we two?Took possession of the stairs.?I was on the lower step,?Molly, on the next above,?Gave me her bouquet to hold,?Asked me to undo her glove.?Then, of course, I squeezed her hand,?Talked about my wasted life;?'Ah! if I could only win?Some true woman for my wife,?How I'd love her--work for her!?Hand in hand through life we'd walk--?No one ever cared for me--'?Takes a girl--that kind of talk.?Then, you know, I used my eyes--?She believed me, every word--?Said I 'mustn't talk so'--Jove!?Such a voice you never heard.?Gave me some symbolic flower,--?'Had a meaning, oh, so sweet,'--?Don't know where it is, I'm sure;?Must have dropped it in the street.?How I spooned!--And she--ha! ha!--?Well, I know it wasn't right--?But she pitied me so much?That I--kissed her--pass a light."
PART TWO.
"Molly Meade, well, I declare!?Who'd have thought of seeing you,?After what occurred last night,?Out here on the Avenue!?Oh, you awful! awful girl!?There, don't blush, I saw it all."?"Saw all what?" "Ahem! last night--?At the Mather's--in the hall."?"Oh, you horrid--where were you??Wasn't he the biggest goose!?Most men must be caught, but he?Ran his own neck in the noose.?I was almost dead to dance,?I'd have done it if I could,?But old Grey said I must stop,?And I promised Ma I would.?So I looked up sweet, and said?That I'd rather talk to him;?Hope he didn't see me laugh,?Luckily the lights were dim.?My, how he did squeeze my hand!?And he looked up in my face?With his lovely big brown eyes--?Really it's a dreadful case.?'Earnest!'--I should think he was!?Why, I thought I'd have to laugh?When he kissed a flower he took,?Looking, oh! like such a calf.?I suppose he's got it now,?In a wine-glass on his shelves;?It's a mystery to me?Why men will deceive themselves.?'Saw him kiss me!'--Oh, you wretch;?Well, he begged so hard for one--?And I thought there'd no one know--?So I--let him, just for fun.?I know it really wasn't right?To trifle with his feelings, dear,?But men are such stuck-up things;?He'll recover--never fear."
CHIVALRIE.
Under the maple boughs we sat,?Annie Leslie and I together;?She was trimming her sea-side hat?With leaves--we talked about the weather.
The sun-beams lit her gleaming hair?With rippling waves of golden glory,?And eyes of blue, and ringlets fair,?Suggested many an ancient story
Of fair-haired, blue-eyed maids of old,?In durance held by grim magicians,?Of knights in armor rough with gold,?Who rescued them from such positions.
Above, the heavens aglow with light,?Beneath our feet the sleeping ocean,?E'en as the sky my hope was bright,?Deep as the sea was my devotion.
Her father's voice came through the wood,?He'd made a fortune tanning leather;?I was his clerk; I thought it good?To keep on talking about