The heartless years have many hopes dispelled. But they have left me one dear night in June. They've left the still white splendor of the moon. They've left the mem'ry of a hand I held, While up thro' all my soul the rapture welled Of victory. I hear again the croon Of twilight time, the lullaby that soon To all the day's glad music shall have swelled. I hold a hand I never held before, A hand like which I'll never hold some more. It was the first time I had ever "called." 'Twas at the club, as we began to leave. I held five aces, but the dealer balled The ones that he had planted up his sleeve. YOUR CHEEK To feel your hands stray shyly to my head And flutter down like birds that find their nest, To see the gentle rise and fall of your dear breast, To hear again some tender word you said, To watch the little feet whose dainty tread Fell light as flowers upon the way they pressed, To touch again the lips I have caressed-- All these are precious. But your cheek of red Outlives the mem'ry of all other things. I'd known you scarce a month, or maybe two; I had not yet made up my mind to speak, You trots out Tifny's catalogue of rings; Says No. 6 (200 yen) will do. So I remember best of all your cheek. WITH ALL YOUR FAULTS You would not stop this side the farthest line Of Truth, you said, nor hide one little falsity From my sweet faith that was too kind to see. You said a keener vision would divine All failings later, bare each hid design, Each poor disguise of loving's treachery That screened its weaknesses from even me. How oft you said those cherry lips were mine Alone. The cherries came in little jars, I learned. Those auburn locks, I found with pain, Cost forty plunks, according to the bill I saw. Those pearly teeth were porcelain. But I forgive you for each fault that mars. With all your faults, dear heart, I love you still. HOW WE BOUGHT A SEWIN' MACHINE AND ORGAN BY JOSIAH ALLEN'S WIFE We done dretful well last year. The crops come in first-rate, and Josiah had five or six heads of cattle to turn off at a big price. He felt well, and he proposed to me that I should have a sewin' machine. That man,--though he don't coo at me so frequent as he probable would if he had more encouragement in it, is attached to me with a devotedness that is firm and almost cast-iron, and says he, almost tenderly: "Samantha, I will get you a sewin' machine." Says I, "Josiah, I have got a couple of sewin' machines by me that have run pretty well for upwards of--well it haint necessary to go into particulars, but they have run for considerable of a spell anyway"--says I, "I can git along without another one, though no doubt it would be handy to have round."