THE MIDDY OF 1881.
BY MAY CROLY ROPER.
I'm the dearest, I'm the sweetest little mid
To be found in journeying from here to Hades,
I am also, nat-u-rally, a prodid-
Gious favorite with all the pretty ladies.
I know nothing, but say a mighty deal;
My elevated nose, likewise, comes handy;
I stalk around, my great importance feel—
In short, I'm a brainless little dandy.
My hair is light, and waves above my brow,
My mustache can just be seen through opera-glasses;
I originate but flee from every row,
And no one knows as well as I what "sass" is!
The officers look down on me with scorn,
The sailors jeer at me—behind my jacket,
But still my heart is not "with anguish torn,"
And life with me is one continued racket.
Whene'er the captain sends me with a boat,
The seamen know an idiot has got 'em;
They make their wills and are prepared to die,
Quite certain they are going to the bottom.
But what care I! For when I go ashore,
In uniform with buttons bright and shining,
The girls all cluster 'round me to adore,
And lots of 'em for love of me are pining.
I strut and dance, and fool my life away;
I'm nautical in past and future tenses!
Long as I know an ocean from a bay,
I'll shy the rest, and take the consequences.
I'm the dearest, I'm the sweetest little mid
That ever graced the tail-end of his classes,
And through a four years' course of study slid,
First am I in the list of Nature's—donkeys!
—Scribner's Magazine Bric-à-Brac, 1881.
INDIGNANT POLLY WOG.
BY MARGARET EYTINGE.