Box; it's hurting on me!"
I thought that he had grown delirious; so, in order to soothe him as much
as possible, I forced my hand under his shirt-collar, and what do you think
I found? Why, a PIGTAIL--his pigtail, which he had contrived to conceal
between his shirt and his skin, when the barbarous order of the Admiralty
had been put into execution.
[Illustration: A NAUTICAL TALE.]
* * * * *
SONGS FOR THE SENTIMENTAL.
No. II.
You say you would find
But one, and one only,
Who'd feel without you
That the revel was lonely:
That when you were near,
Time ever was fleetest,
And deem your loved voice
Of all music the sweetest.
Who would own her heart thine,
Though a monarch beset it,
And love on unchanged--
Don't you wish you may get it?
You say you would rove
Where the bud cannot wither;
Where Araby's perfumes
Each breeze wafteth thither.
Where the lute hath no string
That can waken a sorrow;
Where the soft twilight blends
With the dawn of the morrow;
Where joy kindles joy,
Ere you learn to forget it,
And care never comes--
Don't you wish you may get it?
* * * * *
"SYLLABLES WHICH BREATHE OF THE SWEET SOUTH.
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