When maiden loves, she sits and sighs She wanders to and fro; Unbidden tear-drops fill her eyes, And to all questions she replies With a sad heigho! 'Tis but a little word--"heigho!" So soft, 'tis scarcely heard--"heigho! An idle breath-- Yet life and death May hang upon a maid's "heigho!" When maiden loves, she mopes apart, As owl mopes on a tree; Although she keenly feels the smart, She cannot tell what ails her heart, With its sad "Ah me!" 'Tis but a foolish sigh--"Ah me!" Born but to droop and die--"Ah me!" Yet all the sense Of eloquence Lies hidden in a maid's "Ah me!" [Illustration] LOST MR. BLAKE MR. BLAKE was a regular out-and-out hardened sinner, Who was quite out of the pale of Christianity, so to speak: He was in the habit of smoking a long pipe and drinking a glass of grog on Sunday after dinner, And seldom thought of going to church more than twice (or if Good Friday or Christmas Day happened to come in it) three times a week. He was quite indifferent as to the particular kinds of dresses That the clergyman wore at the church where he used to go to pray, And whatever he did in the way of relieving a chap's distresses, He always did in a nasty, sneaking, underhanded, hole- and-corner sort of way. I have known him indulge in profane, ungentlemanly emphatics, When the Protestant Church has been divided on the subject of the width of a chasuble's hem; I have even known him to sneer at albs--and as for dalmatics, Words can't convey an idea of the contempt he expressed for _them_. He didn't believe in persons who, not being well off them- selves, are obliged to confine their charitable exertions to collecting money from wealthier people, And looked upon individuals of the former class as ecclesiastical hawks; He used to say that he would no more think of interfering with his priest's robes than with his church or his steeple, And that he did not consider his soul imperilled because somebody over whom he had no influence whatever, chose to dress himself up like an ecclesiastical GUY FAWKES. This shocking old vagabond was so unutterably shameless That he actually went a-courting a very respectable and pious middle-aged sister, by the name of BIGGS: She was a rather attractive widow whose life, as such, had always been particularly blameless; Her first husband had left her a secure but moderate competence owing to some fortunate speculations in the matter of figs.