Never an hour went by me when she was out of sight;
She nursed me true and tender, and stuck to me day and night.

And if ever a house was tidy, and ever a kitchen clean,
Her house and kitchen was tidy as any I ever seen;
And I don't complain of Betsey, or any of her acts,
Exceptin' when we've quarreled and told each other facts.

So draw up the paper, lawyer, and I'll go home to-night,
And read the agreement to her, and see if it's all right;
And then in the mornin' I'll sell to a tradin' man I know,
And kiss the child that was left to us, and out in the world I'll go.

And one thing put in the paper, that first to me didn't occur:
That when I'm dead at last she'll bring me back to her,

And lay me under the maples I planted years ago,
When she and I was happy before we quarreled so.

And when she dies I wish that she would be laid by me,
And, lyin' together in silence, perhaps we will agree;
And if ever we meet in heaven, I wouldn't think it queer
If we loved each other the better because we quarreled here.
WILL CARLETON.

G

HOW BETSEY AND I MADE UP

From 'Farm Ballads.' Copyright 1892, by Harper & Brothers

IVE us your hand, Mr. Lawyer: how do you do to-day? You drew up that paper-I s'pose you want your pay: Don't cut down your figures, - make it an X or a V; For that 'ere written agreement was just the makin' of me.

Goin' home that evenin' I tell you I was blue,

Thinkin' of all my troubles, and what I was goin' to do;

And if my hosses hadn't been the steadiest team alive,

They'd have tipped me over, certain, for I couldn't see where to

drive.

No for I was laborin' under a heavy load;

No

for I was travelin' an entirely different road: For I was a-tracin' over the path of our lives ag'in,

And seein' where we missed the way, and where we might have

been.

XXVIII-1043

And many a corner we'd turned that just to a quarrel led,
When I ought to have held my temper, and driven straight ahead;
And the more I thought it over the more these memories came,
And the more I struck the opinion that I was the most to blame.

And things I had long forgotten kept risin' in my mind,

Of little matters betwixt us where Betsey was good and kind; And these things flashed all through me, as you know things sometimes will

When a feller's alone in the darkness, and everything is still.

"But," says I, "we're too far along to take another track;

And when I put my hand to the plow I do not oft turn back;
And 'tain't an uncommon thing now for couples to smash in

two:"

And so I set my teeth together, and vowed I'd see it through.

When I come in sight o' the house 'twas some'at in the night,
And just as I turned a hilltop I see the kitchen light;
Which often a han'some pictur' to a hungry person makes,
But it don't interest a feller much that's goin' to pull up stakes.

And when I went in the house the table was set for me-
As good a supper 's I ever saw, or ever want to see;

And I crammed the agreement down in my pocket as well as I

could,

And fell to eatin' my victuals, which somehow didn't taste good.

And Betsey she pretended to look about the house,

But she watched my side coat pocket like a cat would watch a

mouse;

And then she went to foolin' a little with her cup,

And intently readin' a newspaper, a-holdin' it wrong side up.

And when I'd done my supper I drawed the agreement out,

And give it to her without a word, for she knowed what 'twas

about;

And then I hummed a little tune, but now and then a note
Was bu'sted by some animal that hopped up in my throat.

Then Betsey she got her specs from off the mantel-shelf,
And read the article over quite softly to herself;
Read it by little and little, for her eyes is gettin' old,

And lawyers' writin' ain't no print, especially when it's cold.

And after she'd read a little she give my arm a touch,

And kindly said she was afraid I was 'lowin' her too much;

But when she was through she went for me, her face a-streamin'

with tears,

And kissed me for the first time in over twenty years!

I don't know what you'll think, sir,—I didn't come to inquire,—
But I picked up that agreement and stuffed it in the fire;
And I told her we'd bury the hatchet alongside of the cow;
And we struck an agreement never to have another row.

And I told her in the future I wouldn't speak cross or rash
If half the crockery in the house was broken all to smash;
And she said, in regards to heaven, we'd try and learn its worth
By startin' a branch establishment and runnin' it here on earth.

And so we sat a-talkin' three quarters of the night,

And opened our hearts to each other until they both grew light; And the days when I was winnin' her away from so many men Was nothin' to that evenin' I courted her over again.

Next mornin' an ancient virgin took pains to call on us,
Her lamp all trimmed and a-burnin' to kindle another. fuss;
But when she went to pryin' and openin' of old sores,
My Betsey rose politely, and showed her out of doors.

Since then I don't deny but there's been a word or two;
But we've got our eyes wide open, and know just what to do:
When one speaks cross, the other just meets it with a laugh,
And the first one's ready to give up considerable more than half.

Maybe you'll think me soft, sir, a-talkin' in this style,

But somehow it does me lots of good to tell it once in a while; And I do it for a compliment-'tis so that you can see

That that there written agreement of yours was just the makin'

of me.

So make out your bill, Mr. Lawyer: don't stop short of an X;
Make it more if you want to, for I have got the checks.
I'm richer than a National Bank, with all its treasures told,
For I've got a wife at home now that's worth her weight in gold.

WILL CARLETON.

WHEN MY COUSIN COMES TO TOWN

C

HERRY VALLEY'S finest raiment

Quaint, yet beautiful to see-
Rightly decks its fairest claimant
To sweet femininity.

Miss New York, au fait in fashion,
Smiles at Cherry Valley's gown
Smile half envy, half compassion -
When my cousin comes to town.

Miles on miles of streets of shopping:
How she revels in the sights!
Every window finds her stopping
To examine its delights.

And I join in her inspection,

For two sparkling eyes of brown
Show in the plate-glass reflection
When my cousin comes to town.

If she warms about the city

In her healthy, happy way,
Miss New York politely witty
Is about her naïveté.

But to men, such girlish rapture
Is a far from common noun,

And each day shows some fresh capture
When my cousin comes to town.

Goes the maid to Seidl's, Sousa's,
Horse Show, Metropolitan -

Over each one she enthuses

As but Cherry Valley can.

Is it strange when breezes waft her
Homeward, sorrow weighs me down?

I am "broke" for six weeks after,
When my cousin comes to town.

W. P. BOURKE.

MISS FLORA M'FLIMSEY

From 'Nothing to Wear'

ISS FLORA M'FLIMSEY, of Madison Square,

M' Has made three separate journeys to Paris;

And her father assures me, each time she was there,
That she and her friend Mrs. Harris

(Not the lady whose name is so famous in history,
But plain Mrs. H., without romance or mystery)
Spent six consecutive weeks without stopping,
In one continuous round of shopping:-

Shopping alone, and shopping together,

At all hours of the day, and in all sorts of weather:
For all manner of things that a woman can put
On the crown of her head or the sole of her foot,
Or wrap round her shoulders, or fit round her waist,
Or that can be sewed on, or pinned on, or laced,
Or tied on with a string, or stitched on with a bow,
In front or behind, above or below;

For bonnets, mantillas, capes, collars, and shawls;
Dresses for breakfasts, and dinners, and balls;
Dresses to sit in, and stand in, and walk in;
Dresses to dance in, and flirt in, and talk in;
Dresses in which to do nothing at all;
Dresses for winter, spring, summer, and fall,-
All of them different in color and pattern,
Silk, muslin, and lace, crape, velvet, and satin,
Brocade, and broadcloth, and other material
Quite as expensive and much more ethereal:

In short, for all things that could ever be thought of,
Or milliner, modiste, or tradesman be bought of,
From ten-thousand-francs robes to twenty-sous frills;

In all quarters of Paris, and to every store:
While M'Flimsey in vain stormed, scolded, and swore,
They footed the streets, and he footed the bills.

The last trip, their goods shipped by the steamer Argo
Formed, M'Flimsey declares, the bulk of her cargo,-
Not to mention a quantity kept from the rest,

Sufficient to fill the largest-sized chest,
Which did not appear on the ship's manifest,
But for which the ladies themselves manifested

Such particular interest that they invested