NELLIE. Go, if you will. At once! And by express, sir! FRANK. No, I remain. To stay and fight a duel Seems, on the whole, the proper thing to doAh, you are strong,-I would not then be cruel, If I were you! NELLIE. One does not like one's feelings to be doubted,— FRANK. One does not like one's friends to misconstrue,—— NELLIE. If I confess that I a wee-bit pouted?— FRANK. I should admit that I was piqué, too. Ask me to dance. If I were you! NELLIE. I'd say no more about it, [Waltz-Exeunt. A DIALOGUE FROM PLATÓ. "Le temps le mieux employé est celui qu'on perd." I' CLAUDE TILLIER. "D"read" three hours. Both notes and text Were fast a mist becoming; In bounced a vagrant bee, perplexed, And filled the room with humming, Then out. The casement's leafage sways, And, parted light, discloses Miss Di., with hat and book, -a maze Of muslin mixed with roses. "You're reading Greek?" "I am-and you?" "O, mine's a mere romancer!" "So Plato is." "Then read him-do; And I'll read mine in answer." I read. "My Plato (Plato, too,— She smiled. "My book in turn avers (No author's name is stated) That sometimes those Philosophers Are sadly mis-translated." "But hear,-the next 's in stronger style: The Cynic School asserted That two red lips which part and smile She smiled once more-" My book, I find, Then I-" Why not? Ephesian law, No less than time's tradition, Enjoined fair speech on all who saw She blushed-this time. "If Plato's page No wiser precept teaches, Then I'd renounce that doubtful sage, And walk to Burnham-beeches." 66 Agreed," I said. "For Socrates (I find he too is talking) Thinks Learning can't remain at ease While Beauty goes a-walking." She read no more. I leapt the sill: The sequel's scarce essentialNay, more than this, I hold it still Profoundly confidential. THE ROMAUNT OF THE ROSE. POOR OOR Rose! I lift you from the street- Than you should lie for random feet, Where careless hands have thrown you! Poor pinky petals, crushed and torn ! I saw you last in Edith's hair. Rose, you would scarce discover That I she passed upon the stair Was Edith's favoured lover, A month-" a little month "-ago— But let that pass. She gave you then- |