An' she'd blush scarlit, right in prayer, When her new meetin'-bunnet Felt somehow thru' its crown a pair O' blue eyes sot upon it. Thet night, I tell ye, she looked _some_! She seemed to've gut a new soul, For she felt sartin-sure he'd come, Down to her very shoe-sole. She heered a foot, an' knowed it, tu, A-raspin' on the scraper-- All ways to once her feelin's flew Like sparks in burnt-up paper. He kin' o' l'itered on the mat, Some doubtfle o' the sekle, His heart kep' goin' pity-pat, But hern went pity Zekle. An' yit she gin her cheer a jerk Ez though she wished him furder An' on her apples kep' to work, Parin' away like murder. "You want to see my Pa, I s'pose?" "Wal--no--I come dasignin'----" "To see my Ma? She's sprinklin' clo'es Agin to-morrer's i'nin'." To say why gals act so or so, Or don't 'ould be presumin'; Mebby to mean _yes_ an' say _no_ Comes nateral to women. He stood a spell on one foot fust, Then stood a spell on t'other. An' on which one he felt the wust He couldn't ha' told ye nuther. Says he, "I'd better call agin;" Says she, "Think likely, Mister:" Thet last word pricked him like a pin, An'----Wal, he up an' kist her. When Ma bimeby upon 'em slips, Huldy sot pale ez ashes, All kin' o' smily roun' the lips An' teary roun' the lashes. For she was jes' the quiet kind Whose naturs never vary, Like streams that keep a summer mind Snowhid in Jenooary. The blood clost roun' her heart felt glued Too tight for all expressin', Tell mother see how metters stood, An' gin 'em both her blessin'. Then her red come back like the tide Down to the Bay o' Fundy, An' all I know is they was cried In meetin' come nex' Sunday. JOHN GODFREY SAXE THE COQUETTE--A PORTRAIT "You're clever at drawing, I own," Said my beautiful cousin Lisette, As we sat by the window alone, "But say, can you paint a Coquette?" "She's painted already," quoth I; "Nay, nay!" said the laughing Lisette, "Now none of your joking--but try And paint me a thorough Coquette." "Well, Cousin," at once I began In the ear of the eager Lisette, "I'll paint you as well as I can, That wonderful thing, a Coquette. "She wears a most beautiful face" ("Of course," said the pretty Lisette), "And isn't deficient in grace, Or else she were not a Coquette. "And then she is daintily made" (A smile from the dainty Lisette) "By people expert in the trade Of forming a proper Coquette. "She's the winningest ways with the beaux" ("Go on!" said the winning Lisette), "But there isn't a man of them knows The mind of the fickle Coquette!