Slowly she grew—till she filled the night,
And shone
On her throne
In the sky alone,
A matchless, wonderful, silvery light,
Radiant and lovely, the Queen of the Night.
Said the wind—"What a marvel of power am I!
With my breath
Good faith!
I blew her to death—
First blew her away right out of the sky—
Then blew her in; what a strength am I!"
But the moon she knew nothing about the affair,
For, high
In the sky,
With her one white eye,
Motionless, miles above the air,
She had never heard the great wind blare.
TOTAL ANNIHILATION
ANONYMOUS
Oh, he was a Bowery boot-black bold,
And his years they numbered nine.
Rough and unpolished was he,
Albeit he constantly aimed to "shine."
Proud as a king on his box he sat
Munching an apple red,
While the boys of his set looked wistfully on.
And "give us a bite," they said.
That boot-black smiled a lordly smile—
"No free bites here," he cried.
Then his comrades sadly walked away,
Save one, who stood at his side.
"Bill, give us the core," he whispered low.
That boot-black smiled once more,
And a mischievous dimple grew in his cheek—
"There ain't going to be no core."
UPS AND DOWNS OF MARRIED LIFE
ANONYMOUS
A well-drest woman walked into a prominent New York office building the other day and took one of the elevators. Her husband saw her from across the street, and hurrying over took the next elevator. He went to the office where he knew she had business, and found she had stept in only for a moment and had gone down again.