rge, for I dropped the rein in
my haste to stoop;
Then I pressed my ear to the baking soil--and caught--ah, horror--the
Indian whoop!

_Soc. Chat._ Some say it _isn't_ infectious, but one can't be too
careful, and, with children in the house, &c., &c.

_Miss F.B._

I rose to my feet with quivering knees, and my face turned white as a
fresh-washed towel;
I had heard a war-cry I knew too well--'twas the murderous band of
Blue-nosed Owl!

_Soc. Chat._ Nice fellow--I'm very fond of him--so fresh--capital
company--met him when I was over there, &c.

_Miss F.B._

"What? leave you to face those fiends alone!" she cried, and slid from
her horse's back;
"Let me die with you--for I love you, CLEM!" Then she gave her steed a
resounding smack,
And he bounded off; "Now Heaven be praised that my school six-shooter
I brought!" said she.
"Four barrels I'll keep for the front-rank foes--and the next for
you--and the last for me!"

_Soc. Chat._ Is it a _comic_ piece she's doing, do you know? Don't
think so, I can see somebody smiling. Sounds rather like SHAKSPEARE,
or DICKENS, or one of those fellahs ... Didn't catch what you said. No
Quite impossible to hear oneself speak, _isn't_ it?

_Miss F.B._

And ever louder the demons yelled for their pale-faced prey--but I
scorned death's pangs,
For I deemed it a doom that was half delight to die by the hand of
LOBELIA BANGS!
Then she whispered low in her dulcet tones, like the crooning coo of
a cushat dove!
(_At the top of her voice_). "Forgive me, CLEM, but I could not bear
any squaw to torture my own true love!"
And she raised the revolver--"crack-crack-crack!"

[_To the infinite chagrin of the Unsophisticated Guest, who
is intensely anxious to hear how Miss BANGS and her lover
escaped from so unpleasant a dilemma--the remaining cracks
of her revolver, together with the two next stanzas, are
drowned in a fresh torrent of small-talk--after which he
hears Miss F.B. conclude with repressed emotion_:

But the ochre on Blue-nosed Owl was blurred, as his braves concluded
their brief harangues;
And he dropped a tear on the early bier of our Prairie belle, LOBELIA
BANGS!

[_Which of course leaves him in a state of hopeless
mystification._

_Soc. Chat._ Is that the _end_? Charming! Now we shall be able to
_talk_ again! &c., &c.