PS U^sJs an,, fSsslB Pnnlf Ue^sJ'S' eopyiiptit)^^ COPyRIGHT DEPOSm ^J^or o Verjej- Idafi-Ju, •fl^-r-ftv. "iJi^/L ^ -{?*&\X liiH>^4^^ Decorations er^it/ BeriJA-Bo r >oQ rrT'S:-^.. r-.Tl^Nr--.. ^|p:^EY diddle diddle, 1^ ■ Lass, lad and fiddle, ^JL^J^ A round, low, summer's moon ; A breeze to waft Their little craft, And they'll be wed — ftill soon I :>0OC QETER White Is a happy sight ! — W^ould you know the reason why? — *Twere folly, you know, A sad face to show After the maid says, " Aye ! ** ERE am 1 Maiden Joan, When Somebody's with me \7e're always alone. 500 ^^^^^HERE was a fair maiden both d ^J dainty and small, ^^^^ Who rejoiced in loving — just no man at all ! One opened his heart to its utmost extent. And to it, all helpless, all happy, she went! ERRILY the Maiden talked, And " Hum " quoth He, While they two walked the garden thru. As once did we. In his eyes, anxious eyes, What did you see ? " 1 . . . love . . . the maiden . . . but Docs . . . she . . . love . . . me ? " )0 I IMPLE youth and simple maiden, Just a heedless pair; Time goes by, and soon, they find them Lovers unaware. Simple question to the maiden. Asked with anxious care — Dimpled Susan was to answer — Question ? — It was fair ! Simple question, " Shall we wed? Objections have you many ? " Simple was the answer low — " Indeed ] have not any! " ACKbc nimble! Jack be quick! Or see some other the damsel take! Vbo< 1 ©HERE was perhaps a Queen of hearts, Who baked one summer's day, And too, a knave who found the tarts And took them quite away ; But now ] sing another Queen — Another summer's day — Another, better, wiser man — He bore the girl away ! ■^ fFrr^- ■-'ipir flT'-^ l"»niiiiii.i„.:!^«ll>.c ■^ lllll' Tx «Afc,, -- iilniiiiiiw Jl^lllj -^IllUii.- ^H>t»"'Wliiiiiil \x^ T OR. Foster went to Gloucester In a shower of rain, Sing "Hey diddle diddle!" "What matters a puddle When there's a lass to gain ? OCK-a-doodle-doo ! " What shall our lover do? Since cock-crow finds her still unwon, Hc*ll come again to woo! C< ING a song of suspense And sparkling, merry eyes. Of more than twenty lovers With aching hearts, and sighs. When the rites are over. There'll be but one to sing — To whom my lady deigns to list. For him the bells shall ring. ONE misty, moisty morning, "When cloudy was the weather, ] chanced to meet a gentleman And maiden sweet together; ] heard his many compliments, Nor ever once did grin ; For what would 7 do. And what would you do, But compliment oft and again? >QC YE, glad she was and bonny. As the fragrant apple-spray That opening in the April, Delights beside the way ; And wistfully he passed her On the road that took him nigh her. Until there came a happy day When he was always by her. :>oli CEA parties one, tea parties two. Nods, smiles and calling cards, "Walks and rides, a few ; Some say they're not engaged. Others say 'tis true, And 7 do not see a thing Would say they're not, do you ? oc QRETTY maid, pretty maid, where have you been ? Each cheek a rose is, fit for a queen — Little maid, little maid, do 1 guess true ? . . . He whom you love said, " ] love you. " AVENDER blue and rosemary green . . . If 1 were king . . . would you be queen ? © ARBARA, Barbara, maiden mine, How many charms, sweet maid, are thine? Fair and tempting is my lass. And in sweetness none surpass — Barbara, Barbara, maiden mine How many charms sweet maid are thine? nr^'^is^ ^i^iK. ^^o< OLEMN on Monday, Forlorn on a Tuesday — Maybe its love's fault, Pray, what do you say ? — Listless on 'Wednesday, Harried on Thursday, Misfortune hath him — Keep us from her saway I — Very still Friday, Burdened on Saturday — Think you 'tis love that Acts in the matter, pray?- In all the long week Glad but on one day — Ah, sad to love always And meet but on Sunday ! INTO the meadow and thru the corn, And by the seat neath the apple thorn, Wandered 1 by stream and rock ; And the birds, in a flock Flew some east, flew some west — "While the lovers went — where they liked best. vro< 'EE saw scaradown, MChich is the way to Lover's town? One glance up, the other down ; That is the way to Lover's Town. DO u ^AIN, rain, do remain. Lovers need you not in Spain, Balcony and serenade Have they there, and ask thine aid? So rain, do remain ; More our need than theirs in Spain. OH, ] saw a maiden sweet off with a basket, When nine was the hour, and bright as the moon Was the lane with its hedges, — as poet would ask it — And sweet in the May with the scent of the broom. "Oh maiden, no maiden so witching "thought 1, As whither she journeyed her steps took her by, "Your eyes — they are blue as this morning's fair skies, Like the dew on yon cobwebs the light in them lies..." And why there was with her no other, or nigh. To woo one so winsome, ] found no reply, Till a birdie far wiser than ever was 1, Chirped "Up the lane further, you'll sec! By-and-by!" S 1 was going up Primrose Hill, Met ] maiden Betsey; Betsey is a pretty miss ! — And she dropped me a curtsey ! Little Miss, pretty Miss, There is that about you. Makes me think there'll come a day 1 cannot live without you ! USH and hubbub — He loves and she loves, So the baker, the caterer and the dressmaker Shall bustle about so that soon he may take her ! & REAT love, little kiss-bound to be, When they're together, and none to sec ! CHERE was an old owl lived in an oak, Whiskey, Whaskey, Wheedle, And all the words he ever spoke Were, "Fiddle, Faddle, Feedle"; And lovers who came oft that way. Were rather glad he naught could say. Save, "Fiddle, Faddle, Feedle". 1 ^50C HERE was a fair maiden lived under the hill. If she had not loved, she*d be there still. •OC ^|-?^E'S blind thrice, W ■ He's blind thrice, ^ ^ Who sees it not that joy is rife And sweetest charm, within his life "Who calls a loving lass his wife — Yea, blind thrice. He's blind thrice. He's blind thrice, "Who sees it not that all his life He ailing goes who lacks a wife, Whose day with gloomy hours is rife — Yea, blind thrice. o< i 1 'S 1 walked by myself, All alone by myself, An elf there came to me; Said he, " Look to thyself! Take care of thyself! For Somebody cares for thee ". Then 1 answered this elf, This mischievious elf. In blithesome repartee, " Thanks to thyself, iFor the luck to myself. For now, there a wedding shall be". i" Q IT!... Pat!... From under my hat, By courgae, ] sec, forsaken. So the course you would take 1 shall help you to make. If I'm not mistaken. CHERE is a little chap. And he has a little quiver, And fatal is his aim, *tis said, said, said; He trieth in a look Or in a sigh, his luck; You can always tell his wounded For they wed, wed, wed I ZDQ^ OAINTY maid Belinda, By the open window. Dreaming as ] suppose; A maid within, who sought her Stole up and kissed the daughter, And why she blushed, nobody knows ! ^TB^HAT are lover's joys made of, ^ ■ ^ made of? vJx What are lover's joys made of? Kisses, and mail and the happy love tale. And that's what their joys are made of. What are their quarrels made of, made of? What are their quarrels made of? Very grave things that are — nothing at all ! And that's what their quarrels are made of. What are engagements made of, made of? What are engagements made of? Sugar — and — spice — alas, yes — but they're nice! And that's what engagements are made of. OLD thing, old Is love we are told ; And a wary young soul is he 'Whose craft and whose art Shall save him his heart, But merry, he can not be. V3>0< yoU CHE King of Hearts He made some darts All on a summer day ; With marksman arts He found maids* hearts. And took them clean away! He shot the darts And took their hearts ; The maidens wept full sore, Till each he gave Her lover's heart, — And she was sad no more. o< CROSS the patch. The mossy patch. To the violets that are kin To the eyes 1 love The rest above, Whose favor ] would win. >'ocJ OWl Wow] Wow' Whose dog art thou " ? " l*m Miss Tucker's dog, But who art thou " ? r?c ANY a maiden daunting, Cupid's gone a-hunting; Gone to make them happy kin "Who, haply else, — had strangers been ! HITTLE Miss Hubbard One day discovered That she was not happy alone. So when next he came there, Her heart she laid bare, And with coaxing, our laddie had done. li oc 'LACK-a day ! she sat on the walJ, And her hair had the glory of leaves in the Fall ; All the king's horses and all the king's men, Can't give him a bachelor's heart again! T OCKS of my lady When the wind blows E'en more bewitching Than when in repose! Voice of my lady, Tender and low, Voice of the zephyrs Thru treetops that go. Eyes of my lady. Tranquil and deep — Pools, where reflections Of violets sleep. Heart of my lady, * Tis the red rose. Rare with the fragrance Its petals enclose. Alay the dawn break, And soon, when 1 call My lady my own, Who's my idol, my all ! SAN FRANCISCO vr5o< iAV 11 Ii!C One copy del. to Cat. Div. rM\f ill t^r \^.