BABIE ANNIE TO COUSIN J ——.

You should have seen me, when papa

Brought me your gift, an hour ago;

I almost hopped out of my shoes,

And raised a mighty bantam crow!

I shook my hair about my eyes,

I flung my chubby arms about,

I hugged it, and an eager score

Of “pretty pretties” sputtered out.

I grasp it, gloat upon it now,—

My fingers glide from link to link;

I like its shine, I like its feel,

I like its golden chink a-chink.

I thank you — do n't I thank you, though!

My darling, dashing, handsome cousin!

I‘ ll pat your whiskers, when we meet,

And give you kisses by the dozen.

I‘ ll promise not to pull your hair,

When on your shoulder next I mount,

Nor bore my fingers in your ears,

Too often bored on my account.

Those fingers light shall never leave

On velvet waistcoat one faint crease,

Nor give your profile, clear and fine,

Another needless touch of Greece.

I will not bend the killing bow

Of that nice neck-tie, “rich, but neat,”

Nor put a ruffle in your shirt,

Nor break the white plaits with my feet.

The sacred collar shall not bear

The impress of a touch of mine;

Your sparkling diamond studs, like dews,

Shall on the lawn inviolate shine.

I will not fumble for your seals,

Nor listen where your tick-tick lies,—

Nor dare to call in anger down

The heavy lashes of your eyes.

In short, I‘ ll be a tender sprig,

A greenwood blossom small and sweet,

To hang upon your button-hole,

Or breathe love's fragrance at your feet.