FLOWERS' NAMES.

Country gossips, nodding slow

When the fire is burning low,

Or chatting round about the well

On the green at Ashlins Dell,

With many a timid backward glance

And fingers crossed and eyes askance,

Still tell about the Midmas Day

When Marget Malherb went away.

"After Midmas Day shall break,

Maidens, neither brew nor bake;

See your house be sanded clean;

Wear no stitch of fairy green;

Go barefoot; wear nor hose nor shoon

From rise of sun to rise of moon;

For the Good People watch and wait

Waiting early, watching late,

For foolish maids who treat with scorn

The mystic rites of Midmas Morn."

Marget Malherb tossed her head,

"I fear no fairies' charms," she said—

For she'd new slippers she would wear

To show her lad the pretty pair,

Soft green leather, buckled red—

"I fear no fairies' charms," she said.

She drew them on and laughed in scorn,

And out she danced on Midmas Morn.

Nevermore was Marget seen;

But when her lover sought the green

A Fairy Ring was all he found—

A Fairy Ring on the weeping ground;

And by the hedge a flower grew,

Long and slender, filled with dew,

Green and pointed, ribboned red;

And still you'll find them as I've said.

And Marget comes, so gossips say,

To wear her shoes on Midmas Day.

"Crossbie would have done better to have shot himself, but he gave the ball to his partner."—Provincial Paper.

Daily Paper.

We always thought it was water that they used.

Bored Spectator. "'Ere, not so much of the ca-canny."