"
But I, who had no cash to blow,
Just kissed her 'neath the mistletoe.
She blushed a bit, yet never daunted,
Repeated low, "Just what I wanted."
M.D. FOLLANSBEE.
_Harvard Lampoon_.
~An Idyl.~
He stands before his glass in doubt;
His beard by night hath sprouted well.
He needs must scrape,--and yet without
He hears begin the lecture bell.
Too many times he's skipped the course--
He fears its doors on him may shut:
His blade is dull. Now which is worse,
To cut and shave, or shave and cut?
_Harvard Lampoon_.
~"When?"~
When Harvard's crimson cohorts came
From classic Cambridge down,
And Eli's lovers of the game
Forsook their leafy town,
And met on neutral ground to claim
The football victor's crown,
I carried Rose to see the sight,
The pageant's grand review;
We watched the struggling heroes fight,
The crimson and the blue;
The crowd was yelling with delight,
And fierce the contest grew.
First Yale rose up, an azure sea,
And shouted through the din;
Then Harvard yelled triumphantly,
And each was sure to win,
When Rosa, smiling, said to me,
"When does the game begin?"
E. A. BLOUNT, JR.
_Columbia Spectator_.
~An Unfortunate Phrase.~
He sent her twelve Jacqueminot roses,
All fragrant and blooming and fair,
That nestled so sweetly and shyly
'Neath smilax and maidenhair.
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