(A cad would thay "I thor.")
But once I saw her by the stream
(A cad would say "I sor"),
Yet ofttimes of that once I dream,
That once and never more.
By the fair flood she came to lean
(Her gown was lilac print),
And dip her pitcher down between
The stalks of water-mint.
Then shoals of little fishes fled,
And sun-flecks danced amain,
And rings of water spread and spread
Till all was smooth again.
I saw her somewhat towzled hair
Reflected in the brook—
I might have seen her often there,
Only—I didn't look.
G.C.
* * * * *
SONG OF THE BASEMENT STORY.
Her mean abode was but a cell;
'Twas lonely, chill, and drear.
Her work was all her wealth, but well
She wrought with hope and cheer.
She, envious not of great or gay,
Slept, with unbolted doors;
Then woke, and as we Yankees say,
"Flew round" and did her chores.