s going to go.

When she scorns, in the L-road, my proffer
Of a seat and hangs on to a strap;
I admire her so much, I could offer
To let her ride up on my lap.

Let her undo the stays of the ages,
That have cramped and confined her so long!
Let her burst through the frail candy cages
That fooled her to think they were strong!

She may enter life's wide vagabondage,
She may do without flutter or frill,
She may take off the chains of her bondage,--
And anything else that she will.

She may take _me_ off, for example,
And she probably does when I'm gone.
I'm aware the occasion is ample;
That's why I so often take on.

I'm so glad she can win her own dollars
And know all the freedom it brings.
I love her in shirt-waists and collars,
I love her in dress-reform things.

I love her in bicycle skirtlings--
Especially when there's a breeze--
I love her in crinklings and quirklings
And anything else that you please.

I dote on her even in bloomers--
If Parisian enough in their style--
In fact, she may choose her costumers,
Wherever her fancy beguile.

She may box, she may shoot, she may wrestle,
She may argue, hold office or vote,
She may engineer turret or trestle,
And build a few ships that will float.

She may lecture (all lectures but curtain)
Make money, and naturally spend,
If I let her have _her_ way, I'm certain
She'll let me have _mine_ in the end!

THE WELSH RABBITTERN[5]

BY KENYON COX

This is a very fearsome bird
Who sits upon men's chests at night.
With horrid stare his eyeballs glare:
He flies away at morning's light.

[Footnote 5: From "Mixed Beasts," by Kenyon Cox. Copyright, 1904, by
Fox, Duffield & Co.]

COMIC MISERIES

BY JOHN G. SAXE

I

My dear young friend, whose shining wit
Sets all the room ablaze,
Don't think yourself "a happy dog,"
For all your merry ways;
But learn to wear a sober phiz,
Be stupid, if you can,
It's such a very serious thing
To be a funny man!

II

You're at an evening party, with
A group of pleasant folks,--
You venture quietly to crack
The least of little jokes:
A lady doesn't catch the point,
And begs you to explain,--
Alas for one who drops a jest
And takes it up again!

III