BY ALDEN CHARLES NOBLE
She wears a rosebud in her hair
To mock me as it tosses free;
Were I more wise and she less fair
I fear that I should never be
A victim to such witchery;
For at her wiles and lovely arts
I'm fain to laugh with her, while she
Plays ping-pong with my heart of hearts.
The play's the thing; I wonder where,
What courtier with what courtesy
First played it, with what lady fair,
To music of what minstrelsy?
I wonder did he seem to see
Such eyes wherein a sunbeam starts,
And did he love (as I) while she
Played ping-pong with his heart of hearts?
For battledore they called it, there
In courts of gilded chivalry;
No gallant ever lived to dare
To doubt its airy potency;
But now, that all the pageantry
Of those dead emperors departs,
I dream that she in memory
Plays ping-pong with my heart of hearts.
L'ENVOI
Ah, maiden, I must sail a sea
Whereof there are no maps or charts;
Wilt thou sail too, and there with me
Play ping-pong with my heart of hearts?
BUDGE AND TODDIE
BY JOHN HABBERTON
My Sunday dinner was unexceptional in point of quantity and quality, and a bottle of my brother-in-law's claret proved to be most excellent; yet a certain uneasiness of mind prevented my enjoying the meal as thoroughly as under other circumstances I might have done. My uneasiness came of a mingled sense of responsibility and ignorance. I felt that it was the proper thing for me to see that my nephews spent the day with some sense of the requirements and duties of the Sabbath; but how I was to bring it about, I hardly knew. The boys were too small to have Bible-lessons administered to them, and they were too lively to be kept quiet by any ordinary means. After a great deal of thought, I determined to consult the children themselves, and try to learn what their parents' custom had been.
"Budge," said I, "what do you do Sundays when your papa and mama are home? What do they read to you,—what do they talk about?"
"Oh, they swing us—lots!" said Budge, with brightening eyes.