Dear, I do not send you flowers,
Though I notice day by day
That, 'neath Spring's recurring powers,
All the shops are perfect bowers
With the floral wealth of May;
I could get you quite a heap,
Fresh and reasonably cheap.
Here is many a fragrant rose
Mingling with the scented pea,
Hyacinths whose odour flows
Fondly to the grateful nose,
These, and many more, there be;
You should have them like a shot,
But I think you'd bettor not.
Science 'tis that bids me pause;
'Tis by her the tale is told
That, by Nature's mystic laws,
Blossoms are a frequent cause
Of a lady catching cold;
Their aroma, so she says,
Irritates the passages.
Whether this is quite exact
May be food for questioning;
But, as it's a painful fact
That your membrane is attacked
Thus about the prime of Spring,
I, who hold your welfare dear,
May not leave it with a sneer.
Wherefore, much though I aspire
You, and you alone, to please,
I refrain from this desire,
For 'twould set my heart on fire
If I made my lady wheeze;
I should well-nigh perish if
Aught from me should rouse a sniff.
Dum-Dum.
* * * * *
"In connection with the daily service at St. Enoch's Parish
Church, it would be possible to have marriage celebrated at two
o'clock on any particular week-day. That meant that in ordinary
circumstances it would be possible to have marriage celebrated
in St. Enoch's Church at two o'clock on any week day."--_Glasgow
Evening Times._
Left to ourselves, we were just arriving at the same conclusion.
* * * * *
"Captain W. M. Turner joined Freeman, and played the best
cricket of the day. He bit hard on the off-side."--_Daily
Telegraph._
We always move to the leg side of the field when Captain Turner comes
in.
* * * * *
[Illustration: _Mr. Brown._ "Yes, this civil war business in Ireland is
terrible--terrible--but, good heavens, Maria, why isn't there any onion
sauce?"]
* * * * *