"I received, this afternoon," said the bright-eyed, common-sense girl, the while a slight blush of maidenly coyness tinted her peach-hued cheeks, "a written proposal of marriage from Horace J. Pokelong, the rising young attorney, and——"
"Huh! that petrified dub!" jealously ejaculated the young dry-goods dealer, who had been hanging back because of his timidity and excessive adoration.
"He says," proceeded the maiden, gently ignoring the interruption, and reading aloud from the interesting document, "'I have carefully and comprehensively analyzed my feelings toward you, and the result is substantially as follows, to wit: I respect, admire, adore and love you, and hereby give, grant and convey to you my heart and all my interest, right and title in and to the same, together with all my possessions and emoluments, either won, inherited or in any other manner acquired, gained, anticipated or expected, with full and complete power to use, expend, utilize, give away, bestow or otherwise make use of the same, anything heretofore stated, exprest, implied or understood, in or by my previous condition, standing, walk, attitude or actions, to the contrary notwithstanding; and I furthermore——'"
"I—I——!" fairly shouted the listener, springing to his feet, and extending his arms. "Miss Brisk—Maud—I love you! Will you marry me?"
"Yes, I will!" promptly answered the lass, as she contentedly snuggled up in his encircling embrace. "And I'll reply to the ponderous appeal of that pedantic procrastinator with the one expressive slangism, 'Twenty-three!' I am yours, Clarence!"
KATRINA LIKES ME POODY VELL
ANONYMOUS
Somedimes ven I'm a-feeling bad,
Cause dings dey don'd go righd,
I gid so kinder awful sick,
Und lose my abbedide.
Und ven I go me to der house,
Und by dot daple sit,
Dot widdles makes me feel gwide bale,
Und I don'd kin ead a bit.
My head dot shbind arount unt rount,
Und my eyes dem look so vild,
Dot of my mudder she was dere,
She voodn't know her shild.
Dot is der dime Katrina comes,
Und nice vords she does dell,
Mit her heart a-busding oud mit loaf,
For she likes me poody vell.
She gifes me efery kind of dings
Dot she dinks will done me goot;
She cooks me shblendid sassage mead,
Und oder kinds of foot;
She ties vet rags arount my head
When dot begins to shvell,
Und soaks my feet mit Brandred's bills,
For she likes me poody vell.
She sings me nice und poody songs,
Mit a woice dot's shweed und glear,
Und says, "Dot of I vas to die
She voodn't leef a year."
Of dot aind so, or if id is,
I don'd vas going to dell;
But dis much I am villing to shwore—
She likes me poody vell.