AN INCONVENIENCE

TO his cousin the Bat
Squeaked the envious Rat,
"How fine to be able to fly!"
Tittered she, "Leather wings
Are convenient things;
But nothing to sit on have I."

THE TRYST

POTATO was deep in the dark under ground,
Tomato, above in the light.
The little Tomato was ruddy and round,
The little Potato was white.
And redder and redder she rounded above,
And paler and paler he grew,
And neither suspected a mutual love
Till they met in a Brunswick stew.

ETIQUETTE

"I LONG," said the new-gathered Lettuce,
"To meet our illustrious guest."
Cried the Caster, "Such haste
Is in very bad taste:
See first that you're properly dressed."