TWO STRINGS.--Your _fiancé_ must be a perfect _Othello_. It is, as you justly remark, monstrous that he should object to your cousin seven times removed taking you to the theatre once or twice a week. Of course he is a relative.
SWEET-AND-TWENTY.--Your remarks about tastes in common are perfectly correct. So long as you both collect postcards you will always be able to give pleasure to each other at a distance.
BUSINESS GIRL.--If you have found out that he only gave twenty-five pounds for your engagement ring, it may be, as you shrewdly observe, that he has a contract with the tradesman for a periodical supply of such articles. The fact that his income is under a hundred a year makes it only the more probable that he would adopt such an arrangement for economy's sake. Be very careful.
PITTI-SING.--Your only course is to box his ears. Let us know how you get on.
BELLONA.--Sorry to disappoint you, but this is not the place to describe the undress uniform of the Grenadier Guards.
_Stern Father._ "What an unearthly hour that young fellow stops till every night, Doris. What does your mother say about it?"
_Daughter._ "She says men haven't altered a bit, pa."]
_Ernest._ "I see you are getting on, foreman."
_Foreman._ "Yes, sir; we shall have the walls plastered to-morrow."
_Agatha._ "Oh, Ernest, don't let's have plaster! You never see it now; everybody has wall-papers, and you can get lovely ones quite cheap!"]
Next door the summer roses bloom And breathe their hearts out day by day To please a gentle gardener whom 'Twere happiness to thus obey: For her each rose a fragrance gives That roses grudge to common labour, And there, next door, among them lives My neighbour.
I watch her in her garden fair, And think what joy my life would bless Could she and I but wander there, A shepherd and a shepherdess, As blithe as those of ancient myth That danced and sang to pipe and tabor: Who would not thus be happy with My neighbour?
Blue eyes, and hair of sunny brown, A form of such exceeding grace, And features in whose smile and frown Such tender beauty I can trace That here to sketch her free from flaw Defies the pencil of a Faber, And yet I yearn so much to draw My neighbour!
I'm keeping one commandment--an Epitome of all the ten-- So if I, when my life began, Was born in sin like other men, To innocence that shames the dove, I've mellowed since I was a babe, or How could I so devoutly love My neighbour?