NO BARGAIN.

We were riding home together, When I told her of my love; It was gentle summer weather, And the moon looked down above With a very bashful brightness, Just as though it wished to say “If I could, for sheer politeness, I would look the other way;” And the little pony trotted On with such a leisure gait, I believe that he had plotted To be lazy, kind and late; So I told her how my breast hid— Like a bee within the hive— Love, and hopefully suggested She might drive. In her hands the ribbons fluttered, And the pony seemed to know There was something tender uttered, And he took it very slow; Then I leaned a trifle nearer To the maiden at my side, And I told my pretty hearer How delightful ’twere to ride On and on with her forever If she would but be my wife— How ’twould be my one endeavor To make happy all her life; And the brief reply that met me In my memory remains Like a thorn—“If you will let me Hold the reins.” I said, Discreetly, “No.” And so We didn’t wed.