When hearts are trumps Part 11

There's a quick caress, A kiss, a sigh, A melting eye.

There's a vision of things That hard cash brings,-- A winter at Nice With a servant apiece, A long yachting cruise, Name in "personal news,"

Plenty of wine, Two hours to dine; But it's different quite when a girl says "No."

When a girl says "No,"

It's so different, oh!

No kiss, ten sighs, Two tear-dimmed eyes.

There's a vision of things That poverty brings,-- A winter complete On Uneasy Street, A temptation to rob, A twelve-dollar job, A boarding-house meal, And you pray a new deal; For it's different quite when a girl says "No."

Uncertainty.

Jenny has a laughing eye, Yet she is most wondrous shy.

But why?

Jenny says she hates the men; Still she'll marry. Artful Jen!

But when?

I've a rival who is rich; With one of us sweet Jen will hitch.

But which?

Her Peculiarities.

_The Question of the Learned Man_.

How doth the little blushing maid Employ each shining hour?

Doth she, in sober thought arrayed, Learn knowledge that is power?

Say, doth she mend her father's socks, And cook his evening meal?

And doth she make her own sweet frocks With adolescent zeal?

_The Reply of the Observant Youth_.

Not much; not much. She knows it all; She doth not need to learn.

She thinks of naught but rout or ball, And which youth will be her'n.

She hustles for a diamond ring; She cares not for her dad.

She does not make him anything,-- Except, she makes him mad.

Tying the Strings of her Shoe.

Tying the strings of her shoe, With only the moon to see me.

Could I be quick? Could you?

That is the time to woo What would any one do?

I tied no knot that would free me, Tying the strings of her shoe, With only the moon to see me.

When You are Rejected.

Don't say "Good day,"

Then grab the door and slam it.

Be quite Polite; Go out, and then say, "---- it."

A Bachelor's Views.

A pipe, a book, A cosy nook, A fire,--at least its embers; A dog, a gla.s.s;-- 'T is thus we pa.s.s Such hours as one remembers.

Who'd wish to wed?

Poor Cupid's dead These thousand years, I wager.

The modern maid Is but a jade, Not worth the time to cage her.

In silken gown To "take" the town Her first and last ambition.

What good is she To you or me Who have but a "position"?

So let us drink To her,--but think Of him who has to keep her; And _sans_ a wife Let's spend our life In bachelordom,--it's cheaper.

My Cigarette.

Ma pauvre pet.i.te, My little sweet, Why do you cry?

Why this small tear, So pure and clear, In each blue eye?

'My cigarette-- I'm smoking yet?'

(I'll be discreet.) I toss it, see, Away from me Into the street.

You see I do All things for you.

Come, let us sup.

(But oh, what joy To be that boy Who picked it up.)