Marriage A L Mode. A Trilogy.

I.             LOVE'S YOUNG DREAM. A.D. 1880.             "Thank you much obliged, old boy,                 Yes, it's so; report says true.             I'm engaged to Nell Latine                 What else could a fellow do?             Governor was getting fierce;                 Asked me, with paternal frown,             When I meant to go to work,                 Take a wife, and settle down.             Stormed at my extravagance,                 Talked of cutting off supplies             Fairly bullied me, you know                 Sort of thing that I despise.             Well, you see, I lost worst way                 At the races Governor raged             So, to try and smooth him down,                 I went off, and got engaged.             Sort of put-up job, you know                 All arranged with old Latine             Nellie raved about it first,                 Said her 'pa was awful mean!'             Now it's done we don't much mind                 Tell the truth, I'm rather glad;             Looking at it every way,                 One must own it isn't bad.             She's good-looking, rather rich,                 Mother left her quite a pile;             Dances, goes out everywhere;                 Fine old family, real good style.             Then she's good, as girls go now,                 Some idea of wrong and right,             Don't let every man she meets                 Kiss her, on the self-same night.             We don't do affection much,                 Nell and I are real good friends,             Call there often, sit and chat,                 Take her 'round, and there it ends.             Spooning! Well, I tried it once                 Acted like an awful calf             Said I really loved her. Gad!                 You should just have heard her laugh.             Why, she ran me for a month,                 Teased me till she made me wince;             'Mustn't flirt with her,' she said,                 So I haven't tried it since.             'Twould be pleasant to be loved                 Like you read about in books             Mingling souls, and tender eyes                 Love, and that, in all their looks;             Thoughts of you, and no one else;                 Voice that has a tender ring,             Sacrifices made, and well                 You know all that sort of thing.             That's all worn-out talk, they say,                 Don't see any of it now             Spooning on your fiance                 Isn't good style, anyhow.             Just suppose that one of us,                 Nell and me, you know some day             Got like that on some one else                 Might be rather awkward eh!             All in earnest, like the books                 Wouldn't it be awful rough!             Jove! if I but pshaw, what bosh!                 Nell and I are safe enough.             Some time in the Spring, I think;                 Be on hand to wish us joy?             Be a groomsman, if you like                 Lots of wine good-bye, old boy."             II.             UP THE AISLE. A.D. 1881.             Take my cloak and now fix my veil, Jenny;                 How silly to cover one's face!             I might as well be an old woman,                 But then there's one comfort it's lace.             Well, what has become of those ushers?                 Oh, Pa, have you got my bouquet?             I'll freeze standing here in the lobby,                 Why doesn't the organist play?             They've started at last what a bustle!                 Stop, Pa! they're not far enough wait!             One minute more now! Do keep step, Pa!                 There, drop my trail, Jane! is it straight?             I hope I look timid, and shrinking!                 The church must be perfectly full             Good gracious, please don't walk so fast, Pa!                 He don't seem to think that trains pull.             The chancel at last mind the step, Pa!                 I don't feel embarrassed at all             But, my! What's the minister saying?                 Oh, I know, that part 'bout Saint Paul.             I hope my position is graceful                 How awkwardly Nelly Dane stood!             "Not lawfully be joined together,                 Now speak" as if any one would.             Oh, dear, now it's my turn to answer                 I do wish that Pa would stand still.             "Serve him, love, honor, and keep him"                 How sweetly he says it I will.             Where's Pa? there, I knew he'd forget it                 When the time came to give me away             "I, Helena, take thee love cherish                 And" well, I can't help it, "obey."             Here, Maud, take my bouquet don't drop it                 I hope Charley's not lost the ring!             Just like him! no goodness, how heavy!                 It's really an elegant thing.             It's a shame to kneel down in white satin                 And the flounce real old lace but I must             I hope that they've got a clean cushion,                 They're usually covered with dust.             All over ah, thanks! now, don't fuss, Pa!                 Just throw back my veil, Charley there!             Oh, bother! Why couldn't he kiss me                 Without mussing up all my hair!             Your arm, Charley, there goes the organ                 Who'd think there would be such a crowd!             Oh, I mustn't look round, I'd forgotten,                 See, Charley, who was it that bowed?             Why it's Nellie Allaire, with her husband                 She's awfully jealous, I know,             Most all of my things were imported,                 And she had a home-made trousseau.             And there's Annie Wheeler Kate Hermon                 I didn't expect her at all             If she's not in that same old blue satin                 She wore at the Charity Ball!             Is that Fanny Wade? Edith Pommeton                 And Emma, and Jo all the girls!             I knew they'd not miss my wedding                 I hope they'll all notice my pearls.             Is the carriage there? give me my cloak, Jane,                 Don't get it all over my veil             No! you take the other seat, Charley                 I need all of this for my trail.             III.             DIVORCE. A.D., 1886.             The Club Window.             "Yes, I saw her pass with 'that scoundrel'                 For heaven's sake, old man, keep cool!             No end of the fellows are watching                 Go easy, don't act like a fool!             'Parading your shame'! I don't see it.                 It's hers now, alone; for at last             You drove her to give you good reason,                 Divorced her, and so it's all passed.             For you, I mean; she has to bear it                 Poor child the reproach and the shame;             I'm your friend but come, hang it, old fellow,                 I swear you were somewhat to blame.             'What the deuce do I mean?' Well, I'll tell you,                 Though it's none of my business. Here!             Just light a cigar, and keep quiet                 You started wrong, Charley Leclear.             You weren't in love when you married                 'Nor she!' well, I know, but she tried             To keep it dark. You wouldn't let her,                 But laughed at her for it. Her pride             Wouldn't stand that, you know. Did you ever                 See a spirited girl in your life,             Who would patiently pose to be pitied                 As a 'patient Griselda'-like wife             When her husband neglects her so plainly                 As you did? although, on the whole,             When the wife is the culprit, I've noticed                 It's rather the favorite rle.             So she flirted a little in public                 She'd chances enough and to spare,             Ah, then if you'd only turned jealous                 But you didn't notice nor care.             Then her sickness came even we fellows                 All thought you behaved like a scrub,             Leaving her for the nurse to take care of,                 While you spent your time at the club.             She never forgave you. How could she?                 If I'd been in her place myself,             By Jove, I'd have left you. She didn't,                 But told all her woes to Jack Guelph.             When a girl's lost all love for her husband,                 And is cursed with a masculine friend             To confide in, and he is a blackguard,                 She isn't far off from the end.             Oh, I'm through of course nobody blamed you                 In the end, when you got your divorce             You were right enough there she'd levanted                 With Guelph, and you'd no other course.             What I mean is, if you'd acted squarely,                 The row would have never occurred,             And for you to be doing the tragic,                 Strikes me as a little absurd.             As it stands, you've the best of the bargain,                 And she's got a good deal the worst,             Leave it there, and just touch the bell, will you?                 You're nearest, I'm dying of thirst."             IV.             AT AFTERNOON TEA.             "'In New York!' Yes, I met her this morning.                 I knew her in spite of her paint;             And Guelph, too, poor fellow, was with her;                 I felt really nervous, and faint,             When he bowed to me, looking so pleading                 I cut him, of course. Wouldn't you?             If I meet him alone, I'll explain it;                 But knowing her, what could I do?             Poor fellow! He looks sadly altered                 I think it a sin, and a shame,             The way he was wrecked by that creature!                 I know he was never to blame.             He never suspected. He liked her                 He'd known her for most of his life             And of course, it was quite a temptation                 To run off with another man's wife.             At his age, you know barely thirty                 So romantic, and makes such a noise             In one's club why, one can't but excuse him,                 Now can one, dear? Boys will be boys.             I've known him so long why, he'd come here                 And talk to me just like a son.             It's my duty I feel as a mother                 To save him; the thing can be done             Very easily. First, I must show him                 How grossly the woman deceived             And entrapped him. It made such a scandal                 You know, that he can't be received             At all, any more, till he drops her                 He'll certainly not be so mad             As to hold to her still. Oh, I know him                 So well I'm quite sure he'll be glad             On any excuse, to oblige me                 In a matter so trifling indeed.             Then the way will be clear. We'll receive him,                 And the rest will soon follow our lead.             We must keep our eyes on him more closely                 Hereafter; young men of his wealth             And position are so sorely tempted                 To waste time, and fortune, and health             In frivolous pleasures and pastimes,                 That there's but one safe-guard in life             For them and their money we've seen it                 A really nice girl for a wife.             Too bad you've no daughter! My Mamie                 Had influence with him for good             Before this affair when he comes here                 She'll meet him, I'm sure, as she should             That is, as if nothing had happened                 And greet him with sisterly joy;             Between us I know we can save him.                 I'll write him to-morrow, poor boy."