We had our posey garden that the women loved so well. I loved it, too, but better still I loved the stronger smell That filled the evening breezes so full of homely cheer, And told the night-o’ertaken tramp that human life was near. On lazy August afternoons it made a little bower, Delighted, where my grandsire sat and whiled away an hour. For there the summer morning its very cares entwined, And berry bushes reddened in the steaming soil behind. * * * * * Poor Girlie My parents told me not to smoke; I don’t. Nor listen to a naughty joke; I don’t. They told me it was wrong to wink At handsome men, or even think About intoxicating drink; I don’t. To dance or flirt was very wrong; I don’t. Wild girls chase men and wine and song; I don’t. I kiss no men, not even one-- In fact, I don’t know how it’s done; You wouldn’t think I have much fun-- I don’t. * * * * * Hunting the Wily Pole Cat (As told by a French-Canadian). I’m hunt de bear, I’m hunt de rat Sometimes I’m hunt de cat; Las week I’m tak ma ax an go To hunt de skunk pole cat. Ma fren Bill says hees ver good fur, Same time good for eat, So I tell ma wife, “I get fur coat Same time get some meat.” I walk, one, two, three, four mile. I feel one awful smell-- I theenk that skunk hees gone and died And fur coat’s gone to hal. Bime-by I get up ver ver close, I raise ma ax up high-- Dat gaddum skunk he up and plunk, Trow something in ma eye. Sacre blu; I tink ahm blin-- Gee Cri! Ah cannot see, Ah run aroun and roun and roun Till bump in gaddum tree. Bime-bye I drop de ax An light out for de shack I tink about a milyun skunk Hees climb upon ma back. Ma wife she meet me at de door, She sick on me de dog, She say, “You no sleep here tonight, Go out and sleep wit hog.” I try to get in hog pen, Gee Cri, now what you tink, Dat gaddum hog no stan for dat On count of awful stink. So I no hunt de skunk no more To get hees fur and meat; For if hees breath he smell so bad, Gee Cri! what if he speet. * * * * * The Girl with the Blue Velvet Band In that city of wealth, beauty and fashion; Dear old Frisco, where I first saw the light, And the many frolics that I had there Are still fresh in my memory tonight. One evening while out for a ramble; Here or there without thought or design, I chanced on a young girl tall and slender, On the corner of Kearney and Pine. On her face was the first flush of nature, And bright eyes seemed to expand; While her hair fell in rich, brilliant masses, Was entwined in a Blue Velvet Band.