Our wedding day is coming, love,
Our married course is clear.
Then, pretty JANE, if poorish JANE,
Ah, never look so shy;
But meet me, meet me at the Altar,
When the price of wheat rules high!
TAKEN ON TRUST.
Viscount Conamorey (whose recollections of the antique are somewhat hazy). "AW—A—WHAT BEAUTIFUL ARMS AND HANDS YOU'VE GOT, MRS. BOUNDER! THEY REMIND ME OF THE VENUS OF MILO'S!"