"Sir!" she exclaimed, "how can you try
An honest Moon this way?
As for the gold, I put it by
Against a rainy day."
I smiled and shook my head. "All right,
If you must know," said she,
"I change it into silver bright
Wherewith to tip the Sea."
"He is so faithful and so good,
A most deserving case;
If he should leave, I fear it would
Be hard to fill his place."
* * * * *
When asked if they accepted tips,
The waves became so rough;
I thought of those at sea in ships,
And felt I'd said enough.
For if one virtue I have learned,
'Tis tact; so I forbore
To press the matter, though I burned
To ask one question more.
I hate a scene, and do not wish
To be mixed up in gales,
But, oh, I longed to ask the Fish
Whence came their silver scales!
Oliver Herfora.
THE SINGULAR SANGFROID OF BABY BUNTING
Bartholomew Benjamin Bunting
Had only three passions in life,
And one of the trio was hunting,
The others his babe and his wife.
And always, so rigid his habits,
He frolicked at home until two,
And then started hunting for rabbits,
And hunted till fall of the dew.