Humour. THE SWEET GIRL GRADUATE.

Waikato Times, Volume XIX, Issue 1636, 30 December 1882, Page 6

Humour. THE SWEET GIRL GRADUATE.

HOW THE ,01lOTTmG-HOME^MPO^TEBvC6i.(^DK A GHIOAOO^ioSBBDD«i^bS^ 'M would like to see dn edit^ i i"^»'am rather pre-possessing - appe^rano|j.%J^^ opened the door, of the editorial^olSni^yea^^ day%ftern,don < : '7 ?/,. '■ 'i^: 'sjoMm 1 " That is not' a particularly herctu'ejtnita|pßsK miss," said the horse reporter, andiltH^mJ| "herent of Iroquois smiled a bland 2:10| smile|| which seemed to reassure the youngßady^l|f "Of course," she said, "I dott'tg.exaotlyj know which editor I want^to^seidPb^ " Oh, that's all right," said the adv^^plp^ the Saratoga scale for two-y6aWolp;^^^e^ don't expect people who come aroundj^^itp^ know anything." And again: thei,tffuip<|r§.* stretch smile beamed forth in'all'its^pl^^o^ "Well," said the young lady, ?• lam^i^M to graduate next week, and ,| mammar^iaidp that perhaps if I read my essay, to'.sbDpfe^ editor he would point out any little defects in it, and show how; they could be ~rjein(M J died." , , . *;../ " Mamma told you that, did she.? " r ; *^l "Yes, sir." ', „ r.^ " Your maternal ancestor," said the hor|e^> reporter, "is evidently a person of greatK mental fertility. What is the' title of 'your!'^ essay?" . . > r « it 4, " • Life's Possibilities,' " was the reply. - f ,*-* v. '! That is certainly a oomprehensive 'sub* 1 ' •"" ject," remarked the compiler of the 2.30 list,, " and in the case of lovely woman "may include anything, from being mistress "of the White , House to hanging out red flannel shirts." ' " Would you like to hear my essay^'sir ?"- ;r>.; "Well," replied.the young man,, who once ', began the report of a lecture J with I the. Some-, , , what startUng announcement that ? Hemjj Ward Beecher, wlwse'nama has been spwptshij,jfri, borne for several years by one oftlie most suecessful trotting stallions in this country,^ap-i ' peared before a large^axidience^lasfievening,"^ - " I cannot allow a iie»to pass my ruby, lips^. and am therefore constrained to say that I*| am not wildly infatuated with the scheme ' you mention, but still you can read this essay. I am young, but tough." " Sclioohriates," began the girl, "we- stand upon tlie verge ojf a shoreless sea, the "'" ' •- ; " Hold on," said the horse reporter. Come back and get the word again." " Why what's the matter, sir ?" asked the young lady. " That's all wrong," was the reply. " How can anyone stand upon the verge of a shoreless sea ? If a sea's got a verge tyisn't shore- , less by quite considerable. You might as well say_ you were sitting in the arm-chair of a chaixless parlor. I suppose you 'have been there." The young lady blushed, and said she really didn't know. ' ■ - , - " I reckoned you'd grasp the simile," said ; \ St. Julierfs friend. " Chicago girls may not * be beautiful, but they are superbly fly. Now! , we'll change that line to ' We stand v/pomth'e ' shore of p-scn'that-ilrotches aioay as far as the eye cantfollow, until its shi:icmerinff surface is kissed? by the purple rim of a horizon-^that , " ' bendl to meet its laughing waves as the mother bends over her baby' boy — all gentleness and ' love' — now that's a daisy sentence. Then the* Ship of Life racket is a pretty good one." " The what ?" asked the young lady. "The Ship of Life racket," replied the horse reporter. "You take that sentence about the shimmering sea being kissed by. the horizon for a starter, and then you go ahead: and tell how, when sombre Night has spread its sable pall over forest and moor-land, over palace-hall and humble cot, there gleams forth, in all its pureradiance, the clear, steady„.--light of a high and noble purpose, neverfading, even when dark clouds of despair hang heavily athwart the horizon, and the lurid flash of the distant lightning followed by the M hoarse rumbling of the thunder, like the mutterings of a mighty giant, fortell the coming of a storm in which the very elements shall rage in blind fury against each other. < That's' a corker, ain't it 1" " I suppose so," was the reply. * , " You bet it is, sis ; only you mustn't forget ' to get in words like ' lurid flash ' and •' pure radiance,' because they're what set out the balance of the slush. I know, because I've been through the college myself." " Have you ?" said the girl. "Yes. I know you jpuldn't suspect it, be-, sause I don't smokejmgarettes or' ride a bicycle ; but I've been^^pe, all the, same-.". )v ''** "Is that all I should write?— that aboi&thV 3torm?" the girl asked. Well, I should say not. You want to deren'fte the squ&ll in &U its dre&dial apleador f md tell a nice, easy lie about a stately ship hat has come from the far-away islands of he Southern seas, where the breezes are aden with the balmy odor of spices, and all hat kind of rubbish, you know. Then work ip the peroration. Tell how the good ship,, > ilmost in sight of home, is attacked by the empest. Give 'em a great talk about the rstwhile placid surface of the mighty deep icing lashed into ungovernable fury by the ierce winds that seem' to laugh a wild, a lemoniac laugh in very glee, at the ' detraction they are causing. And then, wjjen verything looks as dreary, and desolate^and Lopeless as the editorial page of a Milwaukee taper, lug out the light, gleaming in all ' its* mre radiance again, and have the ship get afely into port. Then say that the ship 1 is the Ship of Life, and the light of a mother's love, or something like that, and sit' down. You'll be sure to hit jem hard if you do this." " Do you you really think so ?" " It's dead certain^' 1 >\> " Then I shall follow your advice ; and let ' / me thank you for yo'to 'kiridness," said thegirlj as she started for the door. "Don't forget about the lurid glare, sis ; >w shouted the horse reporter. " I will remember it, sir," was the rejJy; accompanied by a smile. " And the pure radiance of the flame," ha continued. " A flame without a pure ra'diiance is of no earthly account in a graduating essay." < " I won't forget," another smile was waited , ' down the hallway. "And now good-bye* sir." — Joseph Medill in thi Chicago iTrilntne* ' ** # — ON THE HOPE BANCHO. May's glorious sun unclouded shines, And not a bud unopened lingers ; ' ,• The roses laugh, and 'mid their vines > t The golden petaled eglantines Tangle then* fragrant fingers. " ' \ v The epauletted blackbird sings His love^song in the velvet meadowy The orioles, on flaming wings, ' - , ' JJlit through] the orchard openings, And flash into' the 1 shadows. ' Afar'the.lake, a silver sheet, ' v r " h Girdled by swells of green,* lies sleeping,, ' ' /- 1 The brooks that in its bosom meet • . ' ' ,t. „- /- I see not, bht their foam-shod feet I' heav.tho ledges leaping. < . , >, Along the fir-fringed mountain peak*- " , ,* * 1- >, • The vagrant, vapor* drift and doable j, <■-."- ,ife3 , The .doubting dove it*B lover seekj; , , K O'v* , )Y ,';EamtheWdthe'distantsttrfbe»pftikß. „ X&t? l ; The cityji toil and trbjible.' «« "■\ ' Leave your, dull haunts, ye Jiuman moles,'* ' ' , ,'VV ' ' " Blindly.for sojrdidtreasuresl mining, 1 : '"* ~»ff ' 'By verdant patus seek'brighter goals '^ v '>-I\' < *»'!?%