A COLORED MAN'S LOVE-LETTER. A colored man living in Detroit had long admired a colored widow in a neighboring street, but being afraid to reveal his passion, went to a white man and asked him to write the lady a letter asking her hand in marriage. The friend wrote, telling the woman in a few brief lines that the size of her feet was the talk of the neighborhood, and asking her if she couldn't pare them down a little. The name of the colored man was signed, and he was to call on her for an answer. Subsequently the writer of the letter met the negro limping along the street, and asked him what the widow said. The man showed him a bloodshot eye, a scratched nose, a lame leg, and a spot on the scalp where a handful of wool had been violently jerked out; and he answered in solemn tones: "She didn't say nuffin, an' I didn't stay dar mor'n a minute!" UNPUBLISHED VERSES OF THOMAS MOORE. Bright leaf, when storms thy bloom shall wither, And I will prize thy tints as truly As when in Spring they blossom newly. Bright leaf, when storms thy blooms shall wither, Sweet maid, while hope and rapture cheer thee, "Tis not for me to linger near thee; But when joys fade and hope deceives thee, When all that soothes and flatters leaves thee Oh, then, how sweet in one forsaken, EGYPTIAN SERENADE. Sing again the song you sung PETITIONS. THE MAIDS AND WIDOWS. The following petition, signed by sixteen maids of Charleston, South Carolina, was presented to the Governor of that province in March, 1733, "the day of the feast": TO HIS EXCELLENCY GOVERNOR JOHNSON. The humble petition of all the Maids whose names are underwritten: Whereas, We the humble petitioners are at present in a very melancholy disposition of mind, considering how all the bachelors are blindly captivated by widows, and our more youthful charms thereby neglected: the consequence of this our request is, that your Excellency will for the future order that no widow shall presume to marry any young man till the maids are provided for; or else to pay each of them a fine for satisfaction, for invading our liberties; and likewise a fine to be laid on all such bachelors as shall be married to widows. The great disadvantage it is to us maids, is, that the widows, by their forward carriages, do snap up the young men; and have the vanity to think their merits beyond ours, which is a great imposition upon us who ought to have the preference. This is humbly recommended to your Excellency's consideration, and hope you will prevent any farther insults. And we poor Maids as in duty bound will ever pray. P. S.-I, being the oldest maid, and therefore most concerned, do think it proper to be the messenger to your Excellency in behalf of my fellow subscribers. A MALADROIT PETITION. An autograph of Madame de Maintenon has recently been discovered at Chateau-Guinon, the history of which is curious. A worthy priest of Cuiseaux, a small Commune of La Brasse, desiring to repair his church, which was becoming dilapidated, had the happy idea of addressing himself to Madame de Maintenon, whose charitable bounty was upon every tongue. Not being in the habit of corresponding with the great, the style of his supplication cost him much thought, but at last he produced a memorial commencing as follows: "Madame:-You enjoy the reputation, which I doubt not is well founded, of according your favors to all who solicit them. I therefore venture to appeal to your bounty in behalf of the church of Cuiseaux," etc. The exalted lady had no sooner cast her eyes upon the poor priest's unlucky exordium, than she flew into a rage, and had him thrown into prison, whence it was with great difficulty that his friends procured a release. The story seems apocryphal, but the memorial bears the following indorsement in the handwriting of Madame de Maintenon:-The lieutenant of police is ordered to issue a lettre-de-cachet against the signer of this petition. Sonnets. WRITING A SONNET. Doris, the fair, a sonnet needs must have; Said I, and found myself i' th' midst o' the second. I should turn back on th' hardest part and laugh. Thanks to thee, Muse, my work begins to shorten, IN A FASHIONABLE CHURCH. The air is faint, yet still the crowds press in; That falls from lips of ladies as they walk, Ere yet the dainty service doth begin: Is tuned to pliant trimness in its place. Floats with the incense-stream good souls to win! THE PROXY SAINT. Each for himself must do his Master's work, (So runs the apologue,) whose pious spouse Would oft remind him of the Church's claims, Still answered thus, "Go, thou, and pay our vows Shutting the door, "Thou hast already passed ABOUT A NOSE. 'Tis very odd that poets should suppose There is no poetry about a nose, When plain as is the nose upon your face, A noseless face would lack poetic grace. Noses have sympathy: a lover knows Noses are always touched when lips are kissing: Why, what would be the fragrance of a rose, And where would be our mortal means of telling Whether a vile or wholesome odour flows Around us, if we owned no sense of smelling? I know a nose, a nose no other knows, 'Neath starry eyes, o'er ruby lips it grows; Beauty is in its form and music in its blows. DYSPEPSIA. Ah, me! what mischiefs from the stomach rise! How many a deed of high and bold emprise Hath made full many a man to quake and tremble, Filling his stomach with dyspeptic sighs, Until a huge balloon it doth resemble. Thus do our lower parts impede the upper, And much the brain's good works molest and hinder. We gorge our cerebellum with hot supper, And burn, with drams, our viscera to a cinder, HUMILITY. Fair, soft Humility, so seldom seen, AVE MARIA. Ave Maria! 'tis the evening hymn Of many pilgrims on the land and sea. Or troubled spirit, yield the bended knee, Seek the Madonna most adored by me, |