(Operator’s indignation is great.)
A young lady of Cincinnati, who had just returned from completing her education in Boston, wanted to kiss her lover, but her mother objected. The daughter drew up her queenly form to its full height, and exclaimed, “Mother, terrible, tragical, and sublimely retributive will be the course pursued by me, if you refuse to allow him to place his alabaster lips to mine, and enrapture my immortal soul by imprinting angelic sensations of divine bliss upon the indispensable members of my human physiognomy, and then kindly allowing me to take a withdrawal from his beneficent presence.” The mother feebly admitted that her objections were overruled.
Mabel. “Yes! that young man is very fond of kissing.”
Mater. “Mabel, who ever told you such nonsense?”
Mabel. “I had it from his own lips!”
A Yale student, who is evidently in the “journalistic” department, writes a twelve-verse poem which is entitled, “We kissed each other by the sea.” “Well, what of it?” asks a Western journalist: “the seaside is no better for such practices than any other locality. In fact, we have put in some very sweet work of that kind on the tow-path of a canal in our time, but did not say anything about it in print.”