I've been digging at a grave,

And if she had come this way

I'd have seen her from my work.

She may come to meet you yet.

I remember well her looks.

Names, not faces, I forget."

XIX. A RIVAL.

It seems I have a rival

Domiciled over the way;

But Blanche, dear heart, dislikes him,

Whatever her father may say—

This gorgeously broadclothed fellow,

Good enough in his way.

To-day as I left the church-yard,

I met them taking a ride,

And my heart was pierced like a buckler

With a javelin of pride;

I only saw in my anger

They were sitting side by side.

To-night, in the purple twilight,

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