We'll accept him perhaps on probation.

Then if two-thirds of the church can agree,
We'll settle him here for life;
Now, we advertise, "_Wanted, a Minister_,"
And not a minister's wife.

THE MIDDY OF 1881.

BY MAY CROLY ROPER.

I'm the dearest, I'm the sweetest little mid
To be found in journeying from here to Hades,
I am also, nat-u-rally, _a prodid-_
Gious favorite with all the pretty ladies.
I _know_ nothing, but say a mighty deal;
My elevated nose, likewise, comes handy;
I stalk around, my great importance feel--
In short, I'm a brainless little dandy.

My hair is light, and waves above my brow,
My mustache can just be seen through opera-glasses;
I originate but flee from every row,
And no one knows as well as I what "sass" is!
The officers look down on me with scorn,
The sailors jeer at me--behind my jacket,
But still my heart is not "with anguish torn,"
And life with me is one continued racket.

Whene'er the captain sends me with a boat,
The seamen know an idiot has got 'em;
They make their wills and are prepared to die,
Quite certain they are going to the bottom.
But what care I! For when I go ashore,
In uniform with buttons bright and shining,
The girls all cluster 'round me to adore,
And lots of 'em for love of me are pining.

I strut and dance, and fool my life away;
I'm nautical in past and future tenses!
Long as I know an ocean from a bay,
I'll shy the rest, and take the consequences.
I'm the dearest, I'm the sweetest little mid
That ever graced the tail-end of his classes,
And through a four years' course of study slid,
First am I in the list of Nature's--donkeys!

--_Scribner's Magazine Bric-a-Brac, 1881._

INDIGNANT POLLY WOG.

BY MARGARET EYTINGE.

A tree-toad dressed in apple-green
Sat on a mossy log
Beside a pond, and shrilly sang,
"Come forth, my Polly Wog--
My Pol, my Ly,--my Wog,
My pretty Polly Wog,
I've something very sweet to say,
My slender Polly Wog!

"The air is moist, the moon is hid
Behind a heavy fog;
No stars are out to wink and blink
At you, my Polly Wog--
My Pol, my Ly--my Wog,
My graceful Polly Wog;
Oh, tarry not, beloved one!
My precious Polly Wog!"