PAY two sous and take my chair
Among the little girls and boys;
The nurses turn their heads and stare,
For puppet-shows are children’s joys.
And yet, though Time has hit me hard,
And life I’m given to revile,
From every joy I’m not debarred,
For Guignol still can make me smile.
Dear Guignol of my golden youth!
How oft in these Elysian fields
I’ve listened to his words of truth,
And watched the baton that he wields!
And still in autumn’s pleasant glow
A happy hour away I while,
And with the babies “see the show,”
For Guignol still can make me smile!
The English Summer.
N Monday the weather was fine and bright,
Three fine days and a thunderstorm!
On Tuesday the floods had reached their height,
And a hurricane blew on Wednesday night,
And the land was a swamp and a dismal sight—
Three fine days and a thunderstorm!
On Thursday the dogs all panting lay,
Three fine days and a thunderstorm!
And sunstroke settled two boys at play.
On Friday the winter had come to stay—
Three fine days and a thunderstorm!
On Saturday snow was a good foot high,
Three fine days and a thunderstorm!
On Sunday there fell from the jet-black sky
A deluge that covered the mountains high;
And to-day in a tropical sun we fry—
Three fine days and a thunderstorm!
A Perfect Paradise.
(VIDE PELICAN. AFFIDAVITS.)
