Volume 103 — TO MY LUGGAGE-LABELS.

Wonderful pictures of purple and gold, Ultramarine, and vermilion, and bistre; Splendid inscriptions of hostels untold, Touching memorials breathing of "Mr.;" "Schweizerhof," "Bernerhof," "Hofs" by the score; Signs of the Bear and the Swan, and the Bellevue, Gasthaus, Albergo, Posada, galore— Beautiful wrecks, how I wish I could shelve you! Visions of Venice—her stones and her smells! Whiffs of Cologne—aromatic mementos; Visiting cards, so to speak, of hotels; Como's, Granada's, Zermatt's and Sorrento's Ah! how ye cling to my boxes and bags, Glued with a pigment that baffles removal; Dogged adherents in dirt and in rags; Labels, receive my profane disapproval! Much as I prized you, when roaming afield, Loved you, when Life was metheglyn and skittles, Wished you the spell of remembrance to wield, Calling the scenery back and the victuals; Still, when it blows and it rains, and it irks, Here in apartments adjoining a seaview, After a meal that would terrify Turks, Somehow I feel I can scarcely believe you. Yes! It's too much to remember the past— Here, amid shrimps, and agilities nameless; Glaciers gigantic, and Restaurants vast Chime not with sands and a tablecloth shameless; Smoking a pestilent, sea-side cigar, Mewed in a lodging with children and nurses, Epitaphs gorgeous of far "Dolce far," Curse you with paterfamiliar curses!