REAL SYMPATHY.
'Arry (reading account of the War in the East). "Ow, I s'y, 'Arriet, they've bin an' took old Li 'Ung Chang's three-heyed Peacock's Feathers all off 'im!"
'Arriet (compassionately). "Pore old Feller!"
TO AMANDA.
Amanda, I, your faithful slave, Am grieved by the conviction That you expect me to behave As lovers do in fiction, To falter forth my vows sincere In syllables disjointed; My more prosaic speech, I fear, Will leave you disappointed.
I ought, I candidly allow, In sitting-rooms and places To stride about with gloomy brow And agitated paces; But in athletic sports I'm sure I always was a duffer, And, if I tried, your furniture Most certainly would suffer.
To prove the tenderness I feel My duty is, I know, to Leave quite untasted every meal, And breakfast off your photo; But habit proves, alas, too strong! With appetite unshaken I still attack (I know it's wrong) My matutinal bacon.
Again; I clearly ought to try To immolate a rival, And prove my special fitness by A process of survival; My cowardice I much deplore, But still, romantic fury Would scarcely pay, when brought before An unromantic jury.