Oh, indeed, no!--I am not ashamed to make you laugh, occasionally. I think I could read you something I have in my desk that would probably make you smile. Perhaps I will read it one of these days, if you are patient with me when I am sentimental and reflective; not just now. The ludicrous has its place in the universe; it is not a human invention, but one of the Divine ideas, illustrated in the practical jokes as kittens and monkeys long before Aristophanes or Shakespeare. How curious it is that we always consider solemnity and the absence of all gay surprises and encounter of wits as essential to the idea of the future life of those whom we thus deprive of half their faculties and then called _blessed_! There are not a few who, even in this life, seem to be preparing themselves for that smileless eternity to which they look forward, by banishing all gaiety from their hearts and all joyousness from their countenances. I meet one such in the street not unfrequently, a person of intelligence and education, but who gives me (and all that he passes) such a rayless and chilling look of recognition,--something as if he were one of Heaven's assessors, come down to "doom" every acquaintance he met,--that I have sometimes begun to sneeze on the spot, and gone home with a violent cold, dating from that instant. I don't doubt he would cut his kitten's tail off, if he caught her playing with it. Please tell me, who taught her to play with it? CAESAR'S QUIET LUNCH WITH CICERO BY JAMES T. FIELDS Have you read how Julius Caesar Made a call on Cicero In his modest Formian villa, Many and many a year ago? "I shall pass your way," wrote Caesar, "On the Saturnalia, Third, And I'll just drop in, my Tullius, For a quiet friendly word: "Don't make a stranger of me, Marc, Nor be at all put out, A snack of anything you have Will serve my need, no doubt. "I wish to show my confidence-- The invitation's mine-- I come to share your simple food, And taste your honest wine." Up rose M. Tullius Cicero, And seized a Roman punch,-- Then mused upon the god-like soul Was coming round to lunch. "By Hercules!" he murmured low Unto his lordly self, "There are not many dainties left Upon my pantry shelf! "But what I have shall Julius share. What, ho!" he proudly cried, "Great Caesar comes this way anon To sit my chair beside. "A dish of lampreys quickly stew, And cook them with a turn, For that's his favorite pabulum From Mamurra I learn." * * * * * His slaves obey their lord's command; The table soon is laid For two distinguished gentlemen,-- One rather bald, 'tis said. When lo! a messenger appears To sound approach--and then, "Brave Caesar comes to greet his friend With _twice a thousand men_!