~Deception.~
Among her curls with wanton glee
The breezes play caressingly,
Catch up stray locks with cunning grace,
And as she turns aside her face,
Blow them about provokingly.
Then with a smile that's fair to see
She tries, and most coquettishly,
To stop the breeze's merry race
Among her curls.
But all in vain, for now one wee
Small lock escapes, and is still free.
And as I peer beneath the lace
I see, stowed snugly in its place,
A tiny switch put secretly
Among her curls.
Yale Record.
~George Birthington's Washday.~
There was a famous washing day, its action near the Hub;
A nation's raiment in the suds, a hero at the tub.
Then come, ye loyal patriots, and listen to my lay!
I'll sing of good George Birthington on this, his washing day.
"The time is come," said Birthington, "when wash we really must,
For, see our country's garments, how they're trampled in the dust;
And Liberty's bright tunic is so sadly soiled, I ween,
That nothing but a washing day will make it bright and clean."
The morning dawned, the washers came, the washing was begun;
The steam rose high, nor ceased to rise till cleanliness was won.
And now, though good George Birthington is gone to his repose,
The grateful country still recalls how well he washed her clothes.
FLORENCE E. HOMES. Wellesly Lyrics.