What’s the matter now, pray? Taking breath, that’s all; But the restless people say “Play ball, play ball.” One ball, two strikes, two balls--“Foul” Umpire calls, and people howl: “What is he about?” Run, run, run, run. Run, RUN, RUN! Half the inning now is done, “Three men out!” Umpire, umpire, go along; You are always, always wrong. A WALTZ-QUADRILLE. [With Musical Accompaniment.] The band was playing a waltz-quadrille; I felt as light as a wind-blown feather, As we floated away at the caller’s will, Through the intricate, mazy dance together. Like mimic armies our lines were meeting, Slowly advancing, and then retreating All decked in their bright array; And back and forth to the music’s rhyme We moved together, and all the time I knew you were going away. The fold of your strong arm sent a thrill From heart to brain as we gently glided, Like leaves, on the wave of that waltz-quadrille, Parted, met, and again divided-- You drifting one way, and I another; Then suddenly turning and facing each other; Then off in the blithe chassée; Then airily back to our places swaying, While every beat of the music seemed saying That you were going away. I said to my heart: “Let us take our fill Of mirth, and music, and love and laughter; For it all must end with this waltz-quadrille, And life will be never the same life after. Oh, that the caller might go on calling, Oh, that the music might go on falling Like a shower of silver spray, While we whirled on to the vast Forever, Where no heart breaks, and no ties sever, And no one goes away.” A clamor, a crash, and the band was still-- ’Twas the end of the dream, and the end of the measure; The last low notes of that waltz-quadrille Seemed like a dirge o’er the death of Pleasure. You said good-night, and the spell was over-- Too warm for a friend, and too cold for a lover-- There was nothing else to say; But the lights looked dim, and the dancers weary, And the music was sad and, the hall was dreary, After you went away. ANSWERED. Good-bye--yes, I am going. Sudden? Well, you are right; But a startling truth came home to me With sudden force last night. What is it? Shall I tell you-- Nay, that is why I go; I am running away from the battle-field, Turning my back on the foe. Riddles? You think me cruel! Have you not been most kind? Why, when you question me like that What answer can I find? You fear you failed to amuse me, Your husband’s friend and guest, Whom he bade you entertain and please? Well, you have done your best.