"I didn't see that, I'd rather put it here."
"Too late now. You can't take back a move in this game. You should study your moves first."
"Well, if I jump here I get another king."
"What do you want to tumble them all over for? Haven't you got any sense scarcely? You make more fuss over a measly king than most women over a mouse. Don't you know it's my move? Give me back those men. Can't you hold the board straight? What's that? Oh, of course, you know. You know it all. All you want is a pair of hinges and painted sides to be a checker-box. If ever I want to play with some good player I'll put the coal-scuttle on your head and move you around for a king. There goes the whole business! Now, are you satisfied? Do you wonder a man won't play checkers with a woman? I'll throw the measly things out of the window so that I won't waste any time playing with you again." And Mr. Italics suited the action to the word. But then Mr. Italics was such an odd type.
MODERN ROMANCE
BY HENRY M. BLOSSOM, JR.
Information, speculation; fluctuation; ruination.
Dissipation, degradation; reformation or starvation.
Application, situation; occupation, restoration.
Concentration, enervation, nerve prostration. A vacation.
Destination, country station. Nice location, recreation.
Exploration, observation; fascination—a flirtation.
Trepidation, hesitation, conversation, simulation;
Invitation, acclamation, sequestration, cold libation.
Stimulation, animation; inspiration, new potation.
Demonstration, agitation, circulation, exclamation!
Declaration, acceptation, osculation, sweet sensation.
Exultation, preparation, combination, new relation.
From The Smart Set, New York.
LULLABY
BY PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR
Kiver up yo' haid, my little lady,
Hyeah de win' a-blowin' out o' do's.
Don' you kick, ner projick wid de comfo't,
Less'n fros'll bite yo' little toes.
Shut yo' eyes an' snuggle up to mammy,
Gi' me bofe yo' han's, I hol' 'em tight;
Don' you be afeard an' 'mence to trimble
Des ez soon ez I blows out de light.
Angels is a-mindin' you, my baby,
Keepin' off de Bad Man in de night.
What de use o' bein skeered o' nuffin'?
You don' fink de dakness gwine to bite?
What de crackin' soun' you heah erroun' you?
Lawsey, chile, you tickles me to def:—
Dats de man what brings de fros', a paintin'
Picters on de winder wid his bref.