THERESA'S ANSWER TO WILHELM.

I AM yours, as I am,

and as you

know

me; I call you mine,

as you are, and as I know you.

lock changes, we shall study to adjust by reason, cheerfulness,

What in ourselves, wed

and mutual good-will.

Goethe.

MARRIAGES are best of dissimilar material, as iron runs

not so well upon iron as upon brass; only the dissimilarity must not be too great, else it is all wear and tear.

Theodore Parker.

HESITATION.

BUT when at last I dared to speak,

The lanes, you know, were white with May,
Your ripe lips moved not, but your cheek.
Flushed like the coming of the day;

And so it was, half shy, half sly,

You would, and would not, little one!

Although I pleaded tenderly,

And you and I were all alone!

Alfred Tennyson.

PROPOSAL.

THE violet loves a sunny bank,

The cowslip loves the lea,

The scarlet-creeper loves the elm;
But I love thee.

The sunshine kisses mount and vale,
The stars they kiss the sea,

The west winds kiss the clover bloom,
But I kiss-thee.

The oriole weds his mottled mate,

The lily's bride o' the bee;

Heaven's marriage-ring is round the earth;

Shall I wed thee?

Bayard Taylor.

IN buying horses, and taking a wife, shut your eyes and

commend yourself to God!

NOBODY COULD HAVE SEEN IT.

FAST down the staircase swinging,
With flying feet I passed;

Quick up the staircase springing,

He came and held me fast;
And the stairs are dark and dim-
Many a kiss I had from him,

And nobody could have seen it.

Down into the hall demurely,

The guests were assembled there;
My cheeks flushed hot, and surely
My lips did their tale declare.
I thought they looked at me every one,
And saw what we together had done,

Yet nobody could have seen it.

Italian.

The garden its sweets displaying,
Beckoned me out of doors;
The welcome call obeying,

I hastened to look at the flower's;
There blushed the roses all around,

There sang the birds with merry sound,
As if they all had seen it.

From the German.

BEHAVE YOURSEL' BEFORE FOLK.

BEHAVE yoursel' before folk,

And dinna be sae rude to me,

As kiss me sae before folk.

And mak' me yours before folk;
Behave yoursel' before folk,

And when we're ane, baith flesh and bane,
may tak' ten-before folk! .

Ye

Scotch Song.

JUDY M'LEARY.

TWAS Judy McLeary so fresh and so merry,

Was milking the cow at her own cabin door,

And thinking of nothing at all in the world,

But the flowers that were blooming the cabin roof o'er. The steps that she heard at her side the same minute, The voice that so musical broke on her ear,

The sigh that came warm on her rosy red cheek,
All spoke to her heart then of Terry McLeare.

"Oh, Judy McLeary, you beautiful soul,

It's yourself I am thinking of three days and more, But I crooshed down my heart till I felt it was breaking, And then, you persave, I could bear it no more. Then tell me, dear Judy, at once if you're willing To lave your own cabin so lovely and dear, To gladden my life with your smile and your singing, The Guardian Angel of Terry McLeare."

The tear-drop in Judy's bright eye was fast gathering, And deep was the sorrow that spoke in her tone; "Oh, Terry, me darlint, how can I go wid you,

To lave me poor mother, an orfin, alone?

Would you lave your own father, and sisters, and brothers?

They're dozens and dozens, they'd never miss you,

And welcome ye'd be to our own little cabin,

It's plenty convanient for us and you

too."

Then Judy stopped quickly, and looked on the ground,
For she feared she was speaking of more than was right;
But Terry, he blessed her with warm Irish feeling,

And gained the consent of her mother that night.
The bells they were ringing, and glad voices singing,
A welcome to Judy's own cabin so dear,
And never the cow was suspecting the change
From Judy McLeary to Judy McLeare.

JENNY KISSED ME!

JENNY kissed me when we met,
Jumping from the chair she sat in;

Twice, you thief, who love to get
Sweets into your list, put that in!
Say I'm weary, say I'm sad:

Say that health and wealth have missed me :
Say I'm growing old, but add

Jenny kissed me!

Leigh Hunt.

AN OFFER.

I WANT you, Carrie, for my wife. You may hunt far and

wide, but you'll find nobody that'll keer for you as I will. Every man, Carrie, that's wuth his salt must find a woman to work for, and when he's nigh on to thirty as I am, he wants to see a youngster growing up to take his place when he gits old: otherwise, no matter how lucky he is, there's not much comfort in livin'. Perhaps I don't talk quite as fine as some, but talking's like the froth on the creek, maybe it's shallow, and