"De bay maih's done huh bes', she's done huh bes'! Dey's turned into the stretch an' still see-sawin'. Let him out, Jimmy, let him out! Dat boy done th'owed de reins away. Come on, Jimmy, come on! He's leadin' by a nose. Come on, I tell you, you black rapscallion, come on! Give 'em hell, Jimmy! give 'em hell! Under de wire an'a len'th ahead. Doggone my cats! wake me up wen dat othah hoss comes in.
"No, suh, I ain't gwine stay no longah—I don't app'ove o' racin'; I's gwine 'roun' an' see dis hyeah bookmakah an' den I's gwine dreckly home, suh, dreckly home. I's Baptis' myse'f, an' I don't app'ove o' no sich doin's!"
Reprinted by permission from "The Heart of Happy Hollow," Dodd, Mead & Company, New York.
WHEN THE WOODBINE TURNS RED
ANONYMOUS
They sat in a garden of springing flowers,
In a tangle of woodland ways;
And theirs was the sweetest of summer bowers,
Where they passed long summer days.
But, alas, when the sunbeams faded away,
And those brightest of days had fled
'Neath the old trysting trees they parted for aye,
When the woodbine leaves turned red.
When the woodbine leaves turned red,
And their last farewell was said,
They swore to be true, as all lovers do,
When the woodbine leaves turn red.
She gave him a flower sweet;
They vowed they would surely meet
In a year and a day; tho they parted for aye
When the woodbine leaves turned red.
They met in the garden again next year,
And their ways had been far apart.
He grasped both hands with a sigh and a tear,
And murmured, "My old sweetheart,
I have to confess it, I can't marry you,
For already have I been wed."
And she answered, blushing, "So have I, too."
And the woodbine turned red.
CUPID'S CASUISTRY
BY W. J. LAMPTON
We were sitting in the moonlight
Of a radiant, rosy June night,
When I whispered: "Kitty, don't you
Wish I'd kiss you? Let me, won't you?"
Kitty was a rustic maiden,
And I thought not heavy laden
With the wisdom of the ages
Writ on cultured cupid's pages.