You ask me, Madam, if by chance we meet,
For money just to keep upon its feet
That hospital, that school, or that retreat,
That home.
I help that hospital? My doctor's fee
Absorbs too much. Alas! I cannot be
An inmate there myself; he comes to me
At home.
Do not suppose I have too close a fist.
Rent, rates, bills, taxes, make a fearful list;
I should be homeless if I did assist
That home.
I must--it is my impecunious lot--
Economise the little I have got;
So if I see you coming I am "not
At home."
My clothes are shabby. How I should be dunned
By tailor, hatter, hosier, whom I've shunned,
If I supported that school clothing fund,
That home!
I'd help if folks wore nothing but their skins;
This hat, this coat, at which the street-boy grins,
Remind me still that "Charity begins
At home."
* * * * *
Kiss versus Kiss.
On the cold cannon's mouth the Kiss of Peace
Should fall like flowers, and bid its bellowings cease!--
But ah! that Kiss of Peace seems very far
From being as strong as the _Hotch_kiss of War!
* * * * *
[Illustration: QUALIFIED ADMIRATION.
_Country Vicar._ "WELL, JOHN, WHAT DO YOU THINK OF LONDON?"
_Yokel._ "LOR' BLESS YER, SIR, IT'LL BE A FINE PLACE _WHEN IT'S
FINISHED_!"]
* * * * *