children's ponies went about, All grave and sober-paced, without A bulldog hanging to each nose—   Proud of his fragrance, I suppose. Dog being dead, Man's lawless flame Burned out: he granted Woman's claim, Children's and those of country, art—   all took lodgings in his heart. When memories of his former shame Crimsoned his cheeks with sudden flame He said; "I know my fault too well—   They fawned upon me and I fell."    Ah! 'twas a lovely world!—no more I met that indisposing bore, The unseraphic cynogogue—   The man who's proud to love a dog. Thus in my dream the golden reign Of Reason filled the world again, And all mankind confessed her sway, From Walnut Creek to San Jose. 

 

 THE UNFALLEN BRAVE

   Not all in sorrow and in tears, To pay of gratitude's arrears The yearly sum—   Not prompted, wholly by the pride Of those for whom their friends have died, To-day we come. Another aim we have in view Than for the buried boys in blue To drop a tear:   Memorial Day revives the chin Of Barnes, and Salomon chimes in—     That's why we're here. And when in after-ages they Shall pass, like mortal men, away, Their war-song sung, Then fame will tell the tale anew Of how intrepidly they drew The deadly tongue. Then cull white lilies for the graves Of Liberty's loquacious braves, And roses red. Those represent their livers, these The blood that in unmeasured seas They did not shed. 

 

 A CELEBRATED CASE

   Way down in the Boom Belt lived Mrs. Roselle; A person named Petrie, he lived there as well; But Mr. Roselle he resided away—   Sing tooral iooral iooral iay. Once Mrs. Roselle in her room was alone:   The flesh of her flesh and the bone of her bone Neglected the wife of his bosom to woo—   Sing tooral iooral iooral ioo. Then Petrie, her lover, appeared at the door, Remarking: "My dear; I don't love you no more."   "That's awfully rough," said the lady, "on me—   Sing tooral iooral iooral iee."    "Come in, Mr. Petrie," she added, "pray do:   Although you don't love me no more, I love you. Sit down while I spray you with vitriol now—   Sing tooral iooral iooral iow."    Said Petrie: "That liquid I know won't agree With my beauty, and then you'll no longer love me; So spray and be "—O, what a word he did say!—   Sing tooral iooral iooral iay. She deluged his head and continued to pour Till his bonny blue eyes, like his love, were no more. It was seldom he 

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