Débutante. “Heavens, my good girl, that won’t do. Here, give me the things. Why, half-way across the room no one would see I was made up at all!”
FACT AND FABLE.
For miles I’d tramped by down and hill;
With eve I found the happy ending;
All in the sunset, golden chill,
The collie met me, grave, befriending.
I saw the roof-tree down the vale,
Brave fields of harvest spread thereunder;
The collie waved a feathery tail