Volume 93 — A SOOTHING SONG FOR AUGUST.

Taking a Pull on the Watery Main. Far from placid pleasure Fashion's nomads roam; Wisdom finds the treasure In its fullest measure Peacefully at home. Free from by-the-way bores Of hotel and train, Rest we from our labours, With our fair young neighbours Round us once again. Bees in drowsy fettle Lazy lilies rob; Slumbrously they settle, Thrumming like a kettle On the Summer's hob. Flies their mystic mazes Intricately thread, Where the sunshine blazes Through the cedarn hazes, Just above my head. Pussy, with her fur feet Curled beneath her breast, Drowzes where the turf-heat Soothes her with a surfeit Of delicious rest. Now a laughing quarrel Stirs the stilly air, Where, beyond the laurel, With their white apparel Glistening in the glare, Boys and girls together Make a gallant crew, Boys in highest feather, Girls like summer weather, Bright and sweet and true.