Solicitude is quite absurd, And only bores her. Kitty could No moment steal, do what she would, To see her Richard. Sorely vexed She was, and he still more perplexed. In spite of all he might devise A squeeze, a kiss, quick talk of eyes Was all he could obtain, no more. Bread butterless, a sanded floor, It seemed no better. Joy like this Could not suffice, more sterling bliss Our lovers wished, nor would stop short Till they'd obtained the thing they sought. And thus it came about. One day By chance they met, alone, away From jealous parents. "What's the use;" Said Richard, "of all our affection? "Of love it is a rank abuse, "And yields me nothing but dejection "I see you without seeing you, "Must always look another way, "And if we meet I dare not stay, "Must ev'ry inclination smother. "I can't believe your love is true; "I'll never own you really kind "Unless some certain means you find "For us to meet without your mother." Kate answered: "Were it not too plain "How warm my love, another strain "I would employ. In converse vain "Let us not waste our moments few; "But think what it were best to do." "If you will please me," Robert said, "You must contrive to change your bed, "And have it placed--well, let me see-- "Moved to the outer gallery, "Where you will be alone and free. "We there can meet and chat at leisure "While others sleep, nor need we fear, "Of merry tales I have a treasure "To tell, but cannot tell them here." Kate smiled at this for she knew well What sort of tales he had to tell; But promised she would do her best And soon accomplish his request. It was not easy, you'll admit, But love lends foolish maidens wit; And this is how she managed it. The whole night long she kept awake, Snored, sighed and kicked, as one possessed, That parents both could get not rest, So much she made the settle shake. This is not strange. A longing girl, With thoughts of sweetheart in her head, In bed all night will sleepless twirl. A flea is in her ear, 'tis said. The morning broke. Of fleas and heat Kitty complained. "Let me entreat, "O mother, I may put my bed "Out in the gallery," she said, "'Tis cooler there, and Philomel "Who warbles in the neigh'bring dell "Will solace me." Ready consent The simple mother gave, and went