LEST MEN FORGET;
Reading edition
Or, A Girl's best Friend is the River
[This is to be a river season. Father Thames is an excellent matchmaker.—Lady's Pictorial.]
Oh, what is a maid to do When never a swain will woo; When Viennese dresses And eddying tresses And eyes of a heavenly blue, Are treated with high disdain By the cold and the careless swain, When soft showered glances At dinners and dances Are sadly but truly vain? Ah, then, must a maid despair? Ah, no, but betimes repair With her magical tresses And summery dresses To upper Thames reaches, where She turns her wan cheek to the sun (Of lesser swains she will none); Her glorious flame, Well skilled in the game, Flings kisses that burn like fun And cheeks that had lost their charm Grow rosy and soft and warm; Eyes lately so dull Of sun-light are full As masculine hearts with alarm. For jealousy by degrees Steals over the swain who sees The cheek he was slighting Another delighting, And so he is brought to his knees.
AT THE UNIVERSITY BOAT-RACE
Extract from Miss X's letter to a friend in the country:—"Mr. Robin Blobbs offered to take us in his boat. Aunt accepted for Jenny, Fanny, Ethel, little Mary, and myself. Oh, such a time! Mr. Blobbs lost his head and his scull, and we were just rescued from upset by the police. 'Never again with you, Robin!'"