Oh, would I had lived in Arcadian days, When maidens had not such extravagant ways, When Daphne and Doris And Chloe and Chloris Would laugh with delight o’er a ribbon of blue Or a glittering buckle to wear on a shoe. But the girl of today cares nothing at all For a trivial gift that is simple or small; And Ethel and Bessie And Gertrude and Jessie Will only approve of the presents I’ve brought If I spend (and I _shall_!) ten times more than I ought. WALKS Delightful walks abound in Arcady and its environs. If unaccustomed to its devious ways, it is perhaps better to engage the services of an experienced Guide, which may be had for a song. Nature Lovers enjoy the walk out on the old Romany Road, across the Field of Four-Leafed Clover toward the Forest of Arden. A more Sentimental Journey is along the Primrose Way, up Primrose Hill, and on, beyond the Night, across the Day, thus following the Course of True Love. Though this never runs smooth, it is often attempted by young Lovers, who sometimes persevere along the way and sometimes get sidetracked. To Friends’ Shipyard is a pleasant stroll for an idle summer day. Here may be seen the Sailor laddies making knots. True lover’s knots may be bought here and carried away as souvenirs. Another attractive walk is along Wall Street. A delightful wall, full of nooks and crannies and overhung with blossoming vines, runs all along this street. At the corner of Moonshine Avenue is a beautiful monument representing Pyramus and Thisbe. * * * * * A pleasant short ramble is along Amourette Avenue, past the Cosy Corners, to a Bower of Roses by Bendemeer’s Stream. The stream may be crossed by the Rustic Bridges or by the Stepping Stones, both being equally romantic. [Illustration: “TRUE LOVER’S KNOTS MAY BE BOUGHT HERE”] OLD VALENTINES How rapidly Time shifts the scene. Again it is St. Cupid’s day, And I must send to my Rosine A gorgeous valentine bouquet. Last year I sent the same to May— Heigh-ho! I’ve led a blithe career— They’d make a rather long array, My valentines of yester-year. In years beginning with 18— I was unfettered, free, and gay Each maiden seemed to me a queen, And to each one my court I’d pay. Now I’m engaged. Ah, well-away! Rosina _is_ a perfect dear, But I would better not display My valentines of yester-year. No memories shall come between My love and me. And I’ll essay To keep her life calm and serene, And love her when she’s old and gray: Her lightest wish I will obey, But still—I hope she’ll never hear Those verses that I wrote in play, My valentines of yester-year. L’ENVOI