The Book of Humorous Verse
Chapter 36 : "Are women wise?" Not wise, but they be witty; "Are women witty?" Y

"Are women wise?" Not wise, but they be witty; "Are women witty?" Yea, the more the pity; They are so witty, and in wit so wily, Though ye be ne'er so wise, they will beguile ye.

"Are women fools?" Not fools, but fondlings many; "Can women fond be faithful unto any?"

When snow-white swans do turn to colour sable, Then women fond will be both firm and stable.

"Are women saints?" No saints, nor yet no devils; "Are women good?" Not good, but needful evils.

So Angel-like, that devils I do not doubt them, So needful evils that few can live without them.

"Are women proud?" Ay! pa.s.sing proud, an praise them.

"Are women kind?" Ay! wondrous kind, an please them.

Or so imperious, no man can endure them, Or so kind-hearted, any may procure them.

_Francis Davison._

THE PLAIDIE

Upon ane stormy Sunday, Coming adoon the lane, Were a score of bonnie la.s.sies-- And the sweetest I maintain Was Caddie, That I took unneath my plaidie, To s.h.i.+eld her from the rain.

She said that the daisies blushed For the kiss that I had ta'en; I wadna hae thought the la.s.sie Wad sae of a kiss complain: "Now, laddie!

I winna stay under your plaidie, If I gang hame in the rain!"

But, on an after Sunday, When cloud there was not ane, This selfsame winsome la.s.sie (We chanced to meet in the lane), Said, "Laddie, Why dinna ye wear your plaidie?

Wha kens but it may rain?"

_Charles Sibley._

FEMININE ARITHMETIC

LAURA On me he shall ne'er put a ring, So, mamma, 'tis in vain to take trouble-- For I was but eighteen in spring While his age exactly is double.

MAMMA He's but in his thirty-sixth year, Tall, handsome, good-natured and witty, And should you refuse him, my dear, May you die an old maid without pity!

LAURA His figure, I grant you, will pa.s.s, And at present he's young enough plenty; But when I am sixty, alas!

Will not he be a hundred and twenty?

_Charles Graham Halpine._

LORD GUY

When swallows Northward flew Forth from his home did fare Guy, Lord of Lanturlaire And Lanturlu.

Swore he to cross the brine, Pausing not, night nor day, That he might Paynims slay In Palestine.

Half a league on his way Met he a shepherdess Beaming with loveliness-- Fair as Young Day.

Gazed he in eyes of blue-- Saw love in hiding there Guy, Lord of Lanturlaire And Lanturlu.

"Let the foul Paynim wait!"

Plead Love, "and stay with me.

Cruel and cold the sea-- Here's brighter fate."

When swallows Southward flew Back to his home did fare Guy, Lord of Lanturlaire And Lanturlu.

Led he his charger gay Bearing a shepherdess Beaming with happiness-- Fair as Young Day.

White lambs, be-ribboned blue-- Tends now with anxious care, Guy, Lord of Lanturlaire And Lanturlu.

_George F. Warren._

SARY "FIXES UP" THINGS

Oh, yes, we've be'n fixin' up some sence we sold that piece o' groun'

Fer a place to put a golf-lynx to them crazy dudes from town.

(Anyway, they laughed like crazy when I had it specified, Ef they put a golf-lynx on it, thet they'd haf to keep him tied.) But they paid the price all reg'lar, an' then Sary says to me, "Now we're goin' to fix the parlor up, an' settin'-room," says she.

Fer she 'lowed she'd been a-scrimpin' an' a-sc.r.a.pin' all her life, An' she meant fer once to have things good as Cousin Ed'ard's wife.

Well, we went down to the city, an' she bought the blamedest mess; An' them clerks there must 'a' took her fer a' Astoroid, I guess; Fer they showed her fancy bureaus which they said was s.h.i.+ffoneers, An' some more they said was dressers, an' some curtains called porteers.

An' she looked at that there furnicher, an' felt them curtains' heft; Then she sailed in like a cyclone an' she bought 'em right an' left; An' she picked a Bress'ls carpet thet was flowered like Cousin Ed's, But she drawed the line com-pletely when we got to foldin'-beds.

Course, she said, 't 'u'd make the parlor lots more roomier, she s'posed; But she 'lowed she'd have a bedstid thet was sh.o.r.e to stay un-closed; An' she stopped right there an' told us sev'ral tales of folks she'd read Bein' overtook in slumber by the "fatal foldin'-bed."

"Not ef it wuz set in di'mon's! Nary foldin'-bed fer me!

I ain't goin' to start fer glory in a rabbit-trap!" says she.

"When the time comes I'll be ready an' a-waitin'; but ez yet, I shan't go to sleep a-thinkin' that I've got the triggers set."

Well, sir, sh.o.r.e as yo''re a-livin', after all thet Sary said, 'Fore we started home that evenin' she hed bought a foldin'-bed; An' she's put it in the parlor, where it adds a heap o' style; An' we're sleepin' in the settin'-room at present fer a while.

Sary still maintains it's han'some, "an' them city folks'll see That we're posted on the fas.h.i.+ons when they visit us," says she; But it plagues her some to tell her, ef it ain't no other use, We can set it fer the golf-lynx ef he ever sh'u'd get loose.

_Albert Bigelow Paine._

THE CONSTANT CANNIBAL MAIDEN