Made epigrams--attempted verse! Boston was horrified and shocked To hear the way those Orchids mocked; For they made fun of Boston ways, And called good men Provincial Jays! The end must come to such a story, Gone is the wicked Orchids' glory; The room was raided by police, One night, for breaches of the Peace (There had been laughter, long and loud, In Boston this is not allowed), And there, the sergeant of the squad Found awful evidence--my God!-- Fitz-Willieboy McFlubadub, The Regent of the Orchids' Club, Had written on the window-sill, This shocking outrage--"Beacon H--ll!" A LETTER FROM HOME[4] _From the Princess Boo-Lally, at Gumbo Goo, South Sea Islands, to Her Brother, Prince Umbobo, a Sophomore at Yale._ BY WALLACE IRWIN "It is spring, my dear Umbobo, On the isle of Gumbo Goo, And your father, King Korobo, And your mother long for you. "We had missionaries Monday, Much the finest of the year-- Our old cook came back last Sunday, And the stews she makes are _dear_. "I've the _loveliest_ string of knuckles Which dear Father gave to me, And a pair of shin-bone buckles Which I _so_ wish you could see. "You remember Mr. Booloo? He is coming over soon With some friends from Unatulu-- We all hope they'll call at noon. "Mr. Booloo's rather slender, But we'll fix him up with sage, And I think he'll be quite tender For a fellow of his age. "Genevieve O-loola's marriage Was arranged so _very_ queer-- Have you read 'The Bishop's Carriage'? Don't you think it's just _too dear_? "I am hoping next vacation I may visit you a while. In this out-of-way location It's _so_ hard to know the style. "Will you try and match the sample I enclose--be sure it's green. Get three yards--that will be ample. Velvet, mind, not velveteen. "Gentle mother worries badly, And she thinks it is a shame That a man like Dr. Hadley Lets you play that football game. "For the way they hurt each other Seems so barbarously rude-- No, you've not been raised, dear brother, To do anything so crude. "And those horrid meals at college-- Not what you're accustomed to. It is hard, this quest for knowledge, But be brave. "Your sister, Boo." "P.S.-- "If it's not too great a bother And a mental overtax, Would you send your poor old father, C.O.D., a battle-axe?" [Footnote 4: From "At the Sign of the Dollar," by Wallace Irwin. Copyright, 1905, by Fox, Duffield & Co.] THE COURTIN' BY JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL God makes sech nights, all white an' still Fur 'z you can look or listen, Moonshine an' snow on field an' hill, All silence an' all glisten.