LOVE

Outwitted

He drew a circle that shut me out

Heretic, rebel, a thing to flout.

But Love and I had the wit to win,

We drew a circle that took him in.

Edwin Markham.


DAUGHTER—"Oh, father, how grand it is to be alive! The world is too good for anything. Why isn't every one happy?"

FATHER—"Who is he this time?"


EDITH—"How does Fred make love?"

MARIE—"Well, I should define it as unskilled labor."


MAG.—"Wot is 'platonic affection,' Liz? Is it love?"

LIZ.—"Well, no;—it ain't true love! Dere ain't no quarreling in it, ner no fighting, ner worrying, ner hocking, ner drinking, ner getting arrested fer non-support, ner nuthin' wot's really passionate!"


Why

Do you know why the rabbits are caught in the snare

Or the tabby cat's shot on the tiles?

Why the tigers and lions creep out of their lair?

Why an ostrich will travel for miles?

Do you know why a sane man will whimper and cry

And weep o'er a ribbon or glove?

Why a cook will put sugar for salt in a pie?

Do you know? Well, I'll tell you—it's Love.

H.P. Stevens.


PAPA—"Why, hang it, girl, that fellow only earns nine dollars a week!"

PLEADING DAUGHTER—"Yes; but, daddy, dear, a week passes so quickly when you're fond of one another."—Judge.


"Love makes the world go 'round," quoted the Parlor Philosopher.

"Yes, but it has to be cranked," replied the Mere Man. "It isn't a self-starter."


Cupid

Why was Cupid a boy,

And why a boy was he?

He should have been a girl,

For aught that I can see.

For he shoots with his bow,

And a girl shoots with her eye;

And they both are merry and glad,

And laugh when we do cry.

Then to make Cupid a boy

Was surely a woman's plan,

For a boy never learns so much

Till he has become a man.

And then he's so pierced with cares,

And wounded with arrowy smarts,

That the whole business of his life

Is to pick out the heads of the darts.

William Blake.


Partake of love as a temperate man partakes of wine: do not become intoxicated.—A. de Musset.

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