Act 2 — TO AN OLD FLAME—(Twenty Years after)
Reading edition
A little girl, a charming tiny tot, I well remember you with many a curl, Although I recollect you said "I'm not A little girl." We parted. Mid the worry and the whirl Of life, again, alas! I saw you not. I kept you in my memory as a pearl Of winsome childhood. So imagine what A shock it was this morning to unfurl My morning paper, there to see you've got A little girl!
The Poet and his Love—(A Lapsus Linguæ.)—He. "I see that you wear brown boots, sweetheart—a sign of the falling of the year." She. "Yes, it is in concord with the decadence of the leaf." He. "Say rather of the cutting of the corn." (And then the match was broken off through no fault of his.)
A SAFE MORTGAGE
Angelina. "Edwin, promise me you'll never describe me as your 'relict.'"
Edwin. "Dearest, I never will! I'd die sooner!"
Brown (who has been dining at the club with Jones). "Just come in a minute, old fellow, and have a night-cap."
Jones. "I'm afraid it's getting a little late. Let's see, how's the enemy."
Brown. "Oh! that's all right. She's in bed."
Things one would Rather have Left Unsaid.—"Well, but if you can't bear her, whatever made you propose?" "Well, we had danced three dances, and I couldn't think of anything else to say!"