Point Lace and Diamonds | Page 6

call cashier.?Style, that 'ere, for a boot-black,--?Made the fellers laugh;?Jack and me had to take it,?But we don't mind no chaff.?Trouble!--not much, you bet, boss!?Sometimes, when biz is slack,?I don't know how I'd manage?If 't wa'n't for little Jack.?You jest once orter hear him:?He says we needn't care?How rough luck is down here, sir,?If some day we git up there.?All done now,--how's that, sir??Shines like a pair of lamps.?Mornin'!--Give it to Jack, sir,?He looks after the stamps.
LES ENFANTS PERDUS.
What has become of the children all??How have the darlings vanished??Fashion's pied piper, with magical air,?Has wooed them away, with their flaxen hair?And laughing eyes, we don't know where,?And no one can tell where they're banished.
"Where are the children?" cries Madam Haut-ton,?"Allow me, my sons and daughters,--?Fetch them, Annette!" What, madam, those??Children! such exquisite belles and beaux:--?True, they're in somewhat shorter clothes?Than the most of Dame Fashion's supporters.
Good day, Master Eddy! Young man about town,--?A merchant down in the swamp's son;?In a neat little book he makes neat little bets:?He doesn't believe in the shop cigarettes,?But does his own rolling,--and has for his pets?Miss Markham and Lydia Thompson.
He and his comrades can drink champagne?Like so many juvenile Comuses;?If you want to insult him, just talk of boys' play,--?Why, even on billiards he's almost _blas��_,?Drops in at Delmonico's three times a day,?And is known at Jerry Thomas's.
And here comes Miss Agnes. Good morning! "Bon jour!"?Now, isn't that vision alarming??Silk with panier, and puffs, and lace?Decking a figure of corsetted grace;?Her words are minced, and her spoiled young face?Wears a simper far from charming.
Thirteen only a month ago,--?Notice her conversation:?Fashion--that bonnet of Nellie Perroy's--?And now, in a low, confidential voice,?Of Helena's treatment of Tommy Joyce,--?Aged twelve,--that's the last flirtation.
What has become of the children, then??How can an answer be given??Folly filling each curly head,?Premature vices, childhood dead,?Blighted blossoms--can it be said?"Of such is the kingdom of heaven?"
CHINESE LANTERNS.
Through the windows on the park?Float the waltzes, weirdly sweet;?In the light, and in the dark,?Rings the chime of dancing feet.?Mid the branches, all a-row,?Fiery jewels gleam and glow;?Dreamingly we walk beneath,--?Ah, so slow!
All the air is full of love;?Misty shadows wrap us round;?Light below and dark above,?Filled with softly-surging sound.?See the forehead of the Night?Garlanded with flowers of light,?And her goblet crowned with wine,?Golden bright.
Ah! those deep, alluring eyes,?Quiet as a haunted lake;?In their depths the passion lies?Half in slumber, half awake.?Lay thy warm, white hand in mine?Let the fingers clasp and twine,?While my eager, panting heart?Beats 'gainst thine.
Bring thy velvet lips a-near,?Mine are hungry for a kiss,?Gladly will I sate them, dear;?Closer, closer,--this,--and this.?On thy lips love's seal I lay,?Nevermore to pass away;--?That was all last night, you know,?But to-day--
Chinese lanterns hung in strings,?Painted paper, penny dips,--?Filled with roasted moths and things?Greasy with the tallow drips;?Wet and torn, with rusty wire,?Blackened by the dying fire;?Withered flowers, trampled deep?In the mire.
Chinese lanterns, Bernstein's band,?Belladonna, lily white,?These made up the fairy-land?Where I wandered all last night;?Ruled in all its rosy glow?By a merry Queen, you know?Jolly, dancing, laughing, witching,?Veuve Cliquot.
THOUGHTS ON THE COMMANDMENTS.
"Love your neighbor as yourself,"--?So the parson preaches;?That's one-half the Decalogue.--?So the Prayer-book teaches.?Half my duty I can do?With but little labor,?For with all my heart and soul?I do love my neighbor.
Mighty little credit, that,?To my self-denial;?Not to love her, though, might be?Something of a trial,?Why, the rosy light, that peeps?Through the glass above her,?Lingers round her lips:--you see?E'en the sunbeams love her.
So to make my merit more,?I'll go beyond the letter;?Love my neighbor as myself??Yes, and ten times better.?For she's sweeter than the breath?Of the Spring, that passes?Through the fragrant, budding woods,?O'er the meadow-grasses.
And I've preached the word I know,?For it was my duty?To convert the stubborn heart?Of the little beauty.?Once again success has crowned?Missionary labor,?For her sweet eyes own that she?Also loves her neighbor.
MARRIAGE _A L�� MODE._?A Trilogy.
I.?LOVE'S YOUNG DREAM.?A.D. 1880.
"Thank you--much obliged, old boy,?Yes, it's so; report says true.?I'm engaged to Nell Latine--?What else could a fellow do??Governor was getting fierce;?Asked me, with paternal frown,?When I meant to go to work,?Take a wife, and settle down.?Stormed at my extravagance,?Talked of cutting off supplies--?Fairly bullied me, you know--?Sort of thing that I despise.?Well, you see, I lost worst way?At the races--Governor raged--?So, to try and smooth him down,?I went off, and got engaged.?Sort of put-up job, you know--?All arranged with old Latine--?Nellie raved about it first,?Said her 'pa was awful mean!'?Now it's done we don't much mind--?Tell the truth, I'm rather glad;?Looking at it every way,?One must own it isn't bad.?She's good-looking, rather rich,--?Mother left her quite a pile;?Dances, goes out everywhere;?Fine old family, real good style.?Then she's good, as girls go now,?Some idea of wrong and right,?Don't let every man she meets?Kiss her, on the self-same night.?We don't do affection much,?Nell and I are real good friends,?Call there often, sit and chat,?Take