Looking, oh! like such a calf.

I suppose he's got it now,

In a wine-glass on his shelves;

It's a mystery to me

Why men will deceive themselves.

'Saw him kiss me!'—Oh, you wretch;

Well, he begged so hard for one—

And I thought there'd no one know—

So I—let him, just for fun.

I know it really wasn't right

To trifle with his feelings, dear,

But men are such stuck-up things;

He'll recover—never fear."

CHIVALRIE.

Under the maple boughs we sat,

Annie Leslie and I together;

She was trimming her sea-side hat

With leaves—we talked about the weather.

The sun-beams lit her gleaming hair

With rippling waves of golden glory,

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