How shall I name you? Darling, dove, Partridge (or any other bird) Are not the names I seek, my love; I want just one caressing word, One word which, whether old or new, Shall prove my depth of love for you. Without it all my power is gone, Without my own I feebly fade: In vain I turn the lexicon, The word I want is not yet made. Must I entreat, to ease my pain, Divine Philology in vain? Ah, little nowadays it boots To imitate primeval man; Our Aryan ancestors had roots With which to formulate their plan. They used them all--they had their fun-- And left us not a single one. Yet, oh my HARRY, something tells Your own she may, she must succeed-- What's this? Yes, yes, ring out the bells; From grief's dark thunder-cloud I'm freed. No longer shall I droop or drop-- _Eureka_, "little Sniperpop." * * * * * In the _Newcastle Daily Journal_ I read that "for some time a certain amount of feeling has existed at Crawcrook on the question of horse-shoeing." This culminated in a challenge by JOSEPH DELAFIELD to GEORGE LATHAN, both these gentlemen being master blacksmiths. A match for £5 was soon made, "each man to shoe the foot of a draught-horse in the quickest and best style." Here there must be some mistake, since if each man did the job in the quickest and best style, the result obviously must be a dead heat. However "the match commenced on Saturday morning at the shop of LATHAN. After LATHAN finished his work, which occupied forty-three minutes, the horse was driven to the shop of DELAFIELD, who occupied forty-one minutes in the operation. Large crowds were on the spot to witness the match. Mr. JOHN CHAPMAN of Whittonstall, the judge, gave his decision in favour of LATHAN." * * * * * There is something very sporting and attractive about all this. One man wins the match, the other can console himself by the reflection that he had two minutes the better of it on time. There seems to have been no grumbling, and (although the fact is not stated) I have no doubt the parties met at an enthusiastic dinner in the evening and toasted the good old English sport of horse-shoeing. The authorities at Oxford and Cambridge might do worse than institute a horse-shoeing competition between teams of undergraduates, who would of course strike blue nails into blue shoes with blue hammers. A "blazer" would be particularly appropriate to such a contest. * * * * * OUR FASHION LETTER. (_Extracted from the "Poppleton Academy College Gazette."_)