THE SECRET TOLD PUSSIE.

ALL gone to the opera, Pussy, but me; We are alone in this rambling old house. Afraid? Not I! Come, sit on my knee, And tell me your stories of dog and mouse. Do you hear the wind—how it sobs and grieves? And the rain falling down on the moss-grown eaves? Let us turn off the gas and sit on the rug; How the firelight brightens the long old room, With its scarlet fancies! Puss, are you snug? You know in one’s youth one should never know gloom. That is what mamma told me to-day When I sighed, and forgot one should always be gay. Do you see any pictures in the fire, Pussy, my dear, with your solemn eyes? Pictures of river and castle and spire— Or only of milk and a mouse’s surprise? I see, ah, Pussy, eyes of brown, And a brow that is royal enough for a crown. I see a smile that is sweet and rare, A hand that is gentle and strong and true; I see a summer-tide swift and fair, With golden sunshine and skies of blue. Oh, what shall I do with the long, long years? Pussy, forgive me, you don’t like tears. The firelight flickers on picture and wall, On book-case and bracket, and statue white— Pussy, do you remember a ball That happened a year ago to-night? One little year! How the seasons bring Changes that only blight and sting! “Sorrow is sorrow to the old But death to the young,” ah, Pussy, I’ve read; Perhaps, if these curls were gray and not gold I wouldn’t wish to-night I were dead. Not twenty yet—and all joy o’er, Oh, Pussy, Pussy, for evermore! There, there, Pussy! No more tears. Let’s have a romp in the firelight glow; Other hearts have beat on through the years When love and faith were lying low; Mayhap, in soothing another’s pain We forget our own. Just hear the rain! But to-morrow, I doubt not, the sun will shine, And the clouds be only a dream of the night. Why should we cherish a woe divine? Let us hide it away from the sun and light. Forgetting one’s self is hard, I fear; But we’ll each try bravely, Pussy, my dear. Let us say “good-bye” to the dreams of the past— And, Pussy, my comfort, never you tell Of the chat that has made these hours fly fast. One more frolic—oh, there is the bell! I hear them laughing upon the stair— Eternal secrecy, Pussy, swear!