In form and feature, face and limb, I grew so like my brother, That folks got taking me for him, And each for one another.

It puzzled all our kith and kin, It reach'd an awful pitch; For one of us was born a twin, Yet not a soul knew which.

One day (to make the matter worse), Before our names were fix'd, As we were being wash'd by nurse We got completely mix'd; And thus, you see, by Fate's decree, (Or rather nurse's whim), My brother John got christen'd _me_, And I got christen'd _him_.

This fatal likeness even dogg'd My footsteps when at school, And I was always getting flogg'd, For John turned out a fool.

I put this question hopelessly To every one I knew-- What _would_ you do, if you were me, To prove that you were _you_?

Our close resemblance turn'd the tide Of my domestic life; For somehow my intended bride Became my brother's wife.

In short, year after year the same Absurd mistakes went on; And when I died--the neighbors came And buried brother John!

_Henry S. Leigh._

II

THE ETERNAL FEMININE

HE AND SHE

When I am dead you'll find it hard, Said he, To ever find another man Like me.

What makes you think, as I suppose You do, I'd ever want another man Like you?

_Eugene Fitch Ware._

THE KISS

"What other men have dared, I dare,"

He said. "I'm daring, too: And tho' they told me to beware, One kiss I'll take from you.

"Did I say one? Forgive me, dear; That was a grave mistake, For when I've taken one, I fear, One hundred more I'll take.

"'Tis sweet one kiss from you to win, But to stop there? Oh, no!

One kiss is only to begin; There is no end, you know."

The maiden rose from where she sat And gently raised her head: "No man has ever talked like that-- You may begin," she said.

_Tom Ma.s.son._

THE COURTIN'

G.o.d makes sech nights, all white an' still Fur 'z you can look or listen, Moonshine an' snow on field an' hill, All silence an' all glisten.

Zekle crep' up quite unbeknown An' peeked in thru' the winder, An' there sot Huldy all alone, 'Ith no one nigh to hender.

A fireplace filled the room's one side With half a cord o' wood in-- There warn't no stoves (tell comfort died) To bake ye to a puddin'.

The wa'nut logs shot sparkles out Towards the pootiest, bless her, An' leetle flames danced all about The chiny on the dresser.

Agin the chimbley crook-necks hung, An' in amongst 'em rusted The ole queen's-arm that Gran'ther Young Fetched back f'om Concord busted.

The very room, coz she was in, Seemed warm f'om floor to ceilin', An' she looked full ez rosy agin Ez the apples she was peelin'.

'Twas kin' o' kingdom-come to look On sech a blessed cretur; A dogrose blushin' to a brook Ain't modester nor sweeter.

He was six foot o' man, A 1, Clear grit an' human natur'; None couldn't quicker pitch a ton Nor dror a furrer straighter.

He'd sparked it with full twenty gals, He'd squired 'em, danced 'em, druv 'em, Fust this one, an' then thet, by spells-- All is, he couldn't love 'em.

But long o' her his veins 'ould run All crinkly like curled maple; The side she breshed felt full o' sun Ez a south slope in Ap'il.

She thought no v'ice hed sech a swing Ez hisn in the choir; My! when he made Ole Hunderd ring, She _knowed_ the Lord was nigher.

An' she'd blush scarlit, right in prayer, When her new meetin'-bunnet Felt somehow thru its crown a pair O' blue eyes sot upun it.

Thet night, I tell ye, she looked _some_!

She seemed to 've gut a new soul, For she felt sartin-sure he'd come, Down to her very shoe-sole.

She heered a foot, an' knowed it tu, A-raspin' on the sc.r.a.per-- All ways to once her feelins flew Like sparks in burnt-up paper.

He kin' o' l'itered on the mat, Some doubtfle o' the sekle; His heart kep' goin' pity-pat, But hern went pity Zekle.

An' yit she gin her cheer a jerk Ez though she wished him furder, An' on her apples kep' to work, Parin' away like murder.

"You want to see my Pa, I s'pose?"

"Wal ... no ... I come dasignin'--"

"To see my Ma? She's sprinklin' clo'es Agin to-morrer's i'nin'."

To say why gals act so or so, Or don't, 'ould be presumin'; Mebbe to mean _yes_ an' say _no_ Comes nateral to women.

He stood a spell on one foot fust, Then stood a spell on t'other, An' on which one he felt the wust He couldn't ha' told ye nuther.