"_Simplex munditiis_," as Horace wrote, And yet, poor lad, he'll find that he is rash; To-morrow you'll adorn some other boat, And smile as kindly on another "mash." As for myself--I'm old, and look askance At flannels and flirtation; not for me Youth's idiotic rapture at a glance From maiden eyes: although it comes from thee. * * * * * THE EXCURSION SEASON.--_First Passenger_ (_poetical_). "Doesn't the sight o' the cerulean expanse of ocean, bearing on its bosom the white-winged fleets of commerce, fill yer with----" _Second Ditto._ "Fi---- not a bit of it." (_Steamer takes a slight lurch!_) "Quite the contrary!" [_Makes off abruptly!_ * * * * * [Illustration: "LIFE'S LITTLE IRONIES" (Cheerful passage in the life of a Whitsuntide Holiday maker)] * * * * * MY RIVERSIDE ADWENTUR (_A Trew Fact as appened at Great Marlow on Bank Olliday_) [Illustration] I was setting one day in the shade, In the butifull month of August, When I saw a most butifull maid A packing of eggs in sum sawdust. The tears filled her butifull eyes, And run down her butifull nose, And I thort it was not werry wise To let them thus spile her nice close. So I said to her, lowly and gently, "Shall I elp you, O fair lovely gal?" And she ansered, "O dear Mr. Bentley, If you thinks as you can, why you shall." And her butifull eyes shone like dimans, As britely each gleamed thro a tear, And her smile it was jest like a dry man's When he's quenching his thirst with sum beer. Why she called me at wunce Mr. Bentley, I sort quite in wain to dishcover; Or weather 'twas dun accidently, Or if she took me for some other. I then set to work most discreetly, And packed all the eggs with great care; And I did it so nicely and neatly, That I saw that my skill made her stare. So wen all my tarsk was quite ended, She held out her two lilly hands, And shook mine, and thank'd me, and wended Her way from the river's brite sands. And from that day to this tho I've stayed, I've entirely failed to diskever The name of that brite dairy-maid As broke thirteen eggs by the river. ROBERT. * * * * * [Illustration: LOCKS ON THE THAMES _Sculler._ "Just half a turn of the head, love, or we shall be among the rushes!"] * * * * * [Illustration: THE STEAMER Old Mr. Squeamish, who has been on deck for his wrapper, finds his comfortable place occupied by a hairy mossoo!] * * * * * OTHERWISE ENGAGED! (_A Sentimental Fragment from Henley_)