W

HERMIONE

HEREVER I wander, up and about,

This is the puzzle I can't make out-
Because I care little for books, no doubt:

I have a wife, and she is wise,

Deep in philosophy, strong in Greek; Spectacles shadow her pretty eyes,

Coteries rustle to hear her speak;

She writes a little for love, not fame;
Has published a book with a dreary name:

And yet (God bless her!) is mild and meek.
And how I happened to woo and wed
A wife so pretty and wise withal,

Is part of the puzzle that fills my head.
Plagues me at daytime, racks me in bed,

Haunts me, and makes me appear so small.

The only answer that I can see

Is I could not have married Hermione (That is her fine wise name), but she

Stooped in her wisdom and married me.

For I am a fellow of no degree,

Given to romping and jollity;

The Latin they thrashed into me at school
The world and its fights have thrashed away:

At figures alone I am no fool,

And in city circles I say my say.

But I am a dunce at twenty-nine,

And the kind of study that I think fine

Is a chapter of Dickens, a sheet of the Times, When I lounge, after work, in my easy-chair;

Punch for humor, and Praed for rhymes,

And the butterfly mots blown here and there
By the idle breath of the social air.

A little French is my only gift,

Wherewith at times I can make a shift,
Guessing at meanings, to flutter over
A filigree tale in a paper cover.

Hermione, my Hermione!

What could your wisdom perceive in me?

And Hermione, my Hermione!

How does it happen at all that we

Love one another so utterly?

Well, I have a bright-eyed boy of two,

A darling who cries with lung and tongue about; As fine a fellow, I swear to you,

As ever poet of sentiment sung about!
And my lady-wife with the serious eyes

Brightens and lightens when he is nigh,
And looks, although she is deep and wise,
As foolish and happy as he or I!
And I have the courage just then, you see,
To kiss the lips of Hermione

Those learned lips that the learnèd praise –
And to clasp her close as in sillier days;
To talk and joke in a frolic vein,

To tell her my stories of things and men:
And it never strikes me that I'm profane,

For she laughs and blushes, and kisses again;
And presto! fly! goes her wisdom then!
For boy claps hands, and is up on her breast,
Roaring to see her so bright with mirth,
And I know she deems me (oh the jest!)
The cleverest fellow on all the earth!

Even to think me a dunce at all!
And wherever I wander, up and about,
Here is the puzzle I can't make out:

That Hermione, my Hermione,

In spite of her Greek and philosophy,

When sporting at night with her boy and me,
Seems sweeter and wiser, I assever-

Sweeter and wiser and far more clever,
And makes me feel more foolish than ever,
Through her childish, girlish, joyous grace,
And the silly pride in her learnèd face!

This is the puzzle I can't make out-
Because I care little for books, no doubt;
But the puzzle is pleasant, I know not why,
For whenever I think of it, night or morn,

I thank my God she is wise, and I

The happiest fool that was ever born!

ROBERT BUCHANAN.

BETSEY AND I ARE OUT

From 'Farm Ballads.' Copyright 1882, by Harper & Brothers

D

RAW up the papers, lawyer, and make 'em good and stout;

For things at home are crossways, and Betsey and I are

out.

We, who have worked together so long as man and wife,
Must pull in single harness for the rest of our nat'ral life.

"What is the matter?" say you. I swan, it's hard to tell!
Most of the years behind us we've passed by very well;
I have no other woman, she has no other man —
Only we've lived together as long as we ever can.

So I have talked with Betsey, and Betsey has talked with me,
And so we've agreed together that we can't never agree;
Not that we've catched each other in any terrible crime:
We've been a-gathering this for years, a little at a time.

There was a stock of temper we both had for a start,
Although we never suspected 'twould take us two apart:
I had my various failings, bred in the flesh and bone;
And Betsey, like all good women, had a temper of her own.

The first thing I remember whereon we disagreed
Was something concerning heaven a difference in our creed:
We arg'ed the thing at breakfast, we arg'ed the thing at tea;
And the more we arg'ed the question the more we didn't agree.

And the next that I remember was when we lost a cow:
She had kicked the bucket for certain, the question was only-

How?

I held my own opinion, and Betsey another had;

And when we were done a-talkin', we both of us was mad.

And the next that I remember, it started in a joke;
But full for a week it lasted, and neither of us spoke.
And the next was when I scolded because she broke a bowl,
And she said I was mean and stingy, and hadn't any soul.

And so that bowl kept pourin' dissensions in our cup;
And so that blamed cow-critter was always a-comin' up;
And so that heaven we arg'ed no nearer to us got,

But it gave us a taste of somethin' a thousand times as hot.

And so the thing kept workin', and all the selfsame way;
Always somethin' 'to arg'e, and somethin' sharp to say:
And down on us came the neighbors, a couple dozen strong,
And lent their kindest sarvice for to help the thing along.

And there has been days together-and many a weary weekWe was both of us cross and spunky, and both too proud to

speak;

And I have been thinkin' and thinkin', the whole of the winter and fall,

If I can't live kind with a woman, why then I won't live at all.

And so I have talked with Betsey, and Betsey has talked with me,
And we have agreed together that we can't never agree:
And what is hers shall be hers, and what is mine shall be mine:
And I'll put it in the agreement, and take it to her to sign.

Write on the paper, lawyer, the very first paragraph,—
Of all the farm and live-stock that she shall have her half;
For she has helped to earn it, through many a weary day,
And it's nothing more than justice that Betsey has her pay.

Give her the house and homestead; - a man can thrive and roam,
But women are skeery critters unless they have a home;
And I have always determined, and never failed to say,
That Betsey never should want a home if I was taken away.

There is a little hard money that's drawin' tol'rable pay —
A couple of hundred dollars laid by for a rainy day-
Safe in the hands of good men, and easy to get at:
Put in another clause there, and give her half of that.

Yes, I see you smile, sir, at my givin' her so much;
Yes, divorce is cheap, sir, but I take no stock in such!
True and fair I married her, when she was blithe and young;
And Betsey was al'ays good to me, exceptin' with her tongue.

Once, when I was young as you, and not so smart, perhaps,
For me she mittened a lawyer, and several other chaps;
And all of them was flustered, and fairly taken down,
And I for a time was counted the luckiest man in town.

Once when I had a fever-I won't forget it soon-
I was hot as a basted turkey and crazy as a loon: