ghing with all her rows of pearl
Before a portrait in a ruff.
He meanwhile watches....

HELEN.

That's enough,
It wants "_verve_," "_brio_," "breadth," "design," ...
Besides, it's English. I decline.

HUGH.

This is the next. 'Tis finer far:
A foaming torrent (say Braemar).
A pony, grazing by a boulder,
Then the same pair, a little older,
Left by some lucky chance together.
He begs her for a sprig of heather....

HELEN.

--"Which she accords with smile seraphic."
I know it,--it was in the "Graphic."
Declined.

HUGH.

Once more, and I forego
All hopes of hanging, high or low:
Behold the hero of the scene,
In bungalow and palankeen....

HELEN.

What!--all at once! But that's absurd;--
Unless he's Sir Boyle Roche's bird!

HUGH.

Permit me--'Tis a Panorama,
In which the person of the drama,
Mid orientals dusk and tawny,
Mid warriors drinking brandy pawnee,
Mid scorpions, dowagers, and griffins,
In morning rides, at noon-day tiffins,
In every kind of place and weather,
Is solaced ... by a sprig of heather.

(_More seriously._)

He puts that faded scrap before
The "Rajah," or the "Koh-i-noor"....
He would not barter it for all
Benares, or the Taj-Mahal....
It guides,--directs his every act,
And word, and thought--In short--in fact--
I mean ...

(_Opening his locket._)

Look, Helen, that's the heather!
(Too late! Here come both Aunts together.)

HELEN.

What heather, Sir?

(_After a pause._)

And why ... "too late?"
--Aunt Dora, how you've made us wait!
Don't you agree that it's a pity
Portraits are hung by the Committee?

THE LAST DESPATCH.

Hurrah! the Season's past at last;
At length we've "done" our pleasure.
Dear "Pater," if you _only_ knew
How much I've _longed_ for home and you,--
Our own green lawn and leisure!

And then the pets! One half forgets
The dear dumb friends--in Babel.
I hope my special fish is fed;--
I long to see poor Nigra's head
Pushed at me from the stable!

I long to see the cob and "Rob,"--
Old Bevis and the Collie;
And _won't_ we read in "Traveller's Rest"!
Home readings after all are best;--