TO LUCENDA.
Reading edition
(Who had made "Copy" of Me.)
The bright September when we met My prospects were not over healthy, Though you were, I do not forget, Extremely wealthy. I know not why it chanced to be, But this I recollect most clearly— It never once occurred to me To love you dearly. 'Twas not your fault, so do not vex Yourself, for I admired your beauty, Since admiration of your sex Is Man's Whole Duty. And thus it came to be our lot To part without a sign or token; I went upon my way, but not The least heart-broken. My "fatal pride" does not object At your fair hands to be made verse on; But p'raps next time you will select— Some other person!
Unanswerable.—The Archbishop of Canterbury, speaking at Folkestone last week, said that "The Disestablishment Bill does not need any answering: it answers itself." An' it please your Grace, if it does "answer," and answers its purpose, what more can be required of this Bill or any other?
The New Weather Proverb.—It never rains—but it snows!
BRAVE GIRL!
Millicent (from the country). "Now, Mabel! let's make a Dash!!"