My lips till then had only known
The kiss of mother and of sister,
But somehow full upon her own
Sweet, rosy, darling mouth—I kissed her!
Perhaps 'twas boyish love, yet still,
O, listless woman! weary lover!
To feel once more that fresh, wild thrill
I'd give—but who can live youth over?
HOW "OLD MOSE" COUNTED EGGS.
Old Mose, who sold eggs and chickens on the streets of Austin for a living, is as honest an old negro as ever lived, but he has got the habit of chatting familiarly with his customers, hence he frequently makes mistakes in counting out the eggs they buy. He carries his wares around in a small cart drawn by a diminutive donkey. He stopped in front of the residence of Mrs. Samuel Burton. The old lady herself came out to the gate to make the purchases.
"Have you any eggs this morning, Uncle Mose?" she asked.
"Yes, indeed I has. Jest got in ten dozen from the kentry."
"Are they fresh?"
"I gua'ntee 'em. I knows dey am fresh jest the same as ef I had led 'em myself."
"I'll take nine dozen. You can just count them into this basket."