Volume 107 — TO HER MOTHER.

Oh, you meddlesome old lady! "Tête and Braidy" Is a pun— Not my own but how I've said that Of your head that Spoilt the fun! And you had a splendid chance to At that dance too. How I shun Plaited hair like yours, that popping In, and stopping, Spoilt the fun! I, not being like you wealthy Know the stealthy, Sneaking dun; Since my fortune is not grand, you Snubbed me, and you Spoilt the fun! When your daughter fancied flirting— Was that hurting Anyone?— And I helped her, she was not you. No, Great Scott! you Spoilt the fun!

Undisturbed upon the staircase, Quite a rare case Finding none Others there, we sat so happy, But you, snappy, Spoilt the fun! When I thought I had a greater Chance to, later, Be your son. And she blushed and smiled so sweetly, You completely Spoilt the fun! Lastly I, in some secluded Spot, concluded I had won, Called her by her Christian name—and Still you came and Spoilt the fun!