Waterbury evening Democrat., 1889-04-24
READABLE RHYMES.

 And o CT the silent, drowsy earth the old gray orchards break abloom. A touch of mystic, hidden power, @ silken cover thrilled in twain, And loi winged flame takes flight from where creeping thing has lain. Then swift the hills are made aware, of wha, the valleys knew before That Natures younglings are awake, and Spring is knocking at the door.
 Lucy E. Tilley, in Harper's Weekly.
 The Wires Were Crossed. What is it she hears through the telephone That renders her eyes so bright? They never before so brilliantly shone Nor expressed such into nse delight. What is 1t she hears that dimples her face, And conjures the smile to her lips, And she holds the machine with an indolent grace
 In her delicate finger tips. Tap, top. tapl Tap, tap, tapl then buzz and whrr
 And wild words in confusion lost They all of them seem to be speaking to her. For the telephone wires are crossed. "Hello, there, Central Hello, there-hellor' Whats thatf' II don't hear you aright." "Speak louderr' "Who's therer' "Is that you, husbandr' "Nov' I'm detained at the office tonight" But 1t is not these voices that brighten hex eyes
 And cause her to smile-to be plain, The voice that she finally hears with surprise, Is her father's in Maiden Lane. Like music from far away lands the words come;
 What emotions ecstatic they bring! "Duke will drop round tonight so you'd bet. ter stay home; He has called here and purchased rlng."
 Jewellers Weekly
 Tho Empire Gown.
 Take large-slzed tablecloth,
 Stitch two sides together,
 Run pucker round the top
 On ribbon tether.
 Cut some arm holes near the neck,
 Put the belt below them,
 Just to touch the shoulder.blades,
 So as not to show them.
 Let the skirt be flowing loose,
 Like @ sail that's Tapping
 In the vagrant Southern breeze,
 Mast and yard-arms tapping.
 Tack some buttons up the back.
 Two or three is plenty,
 For you know an Empire gown
 In the waist is scanty.
 Put some lace about the oeck,
 Sew it there or pin it.
 Then, to make the gown complete,
 Let the girl get in it.
 Washington Critic.
 Tho Unknown Dead. Somebody's dead-not mine, ween, But somebody's loved, given over to dusti Asleep, embalmed in the infinite trust That even the dead shall wake again: And over the mounds the ivies twipe, But breathe with 8 prayer-not mine, not mine. Nat Ooip Vnt tvy0}n nd <v,rp oc{a The lilies float white on the placid stream, And the golden sun with Q midday gleam, Still burns like flame in the glassy tide; There's buoyant life in tree and vine, Whilst the dead lie here-not mine, no' mine. In the infinite rest the grave can give; No aching brains here rack with care, No hearts beat muff1ed in dumb despair; Sleep onl never could bid ye live! Yet look to the hills, with their shade and shine,
 And cry to the wnds-Thank God not mine Hollis w. Field. in Detroit Free Press
 Tho Ruling Passion. fellow both learned and witty,
 Who'd dabbled in all kinds of lore; Familiar with every great city,
 newspaper man to the core. Was once professor in college,
 Could talk both in Latin and Greek; 'Twas said the extent of his knowledge Had even embraced VoIapuk. He had a good head for statistics,
 Could cook up leader off-hand; Was well up on horses and fstics- His ti ps were the best in the land. He knew how to boil down and edit
 Could slip on a head in a trice; In matters pertaining to credit
 By some he was thought overnice. Of copy he always had plenty,
 Yet he never got it by theft; And no matter where ne was sent, he Never was known to get left. His temperament genial and sunny,
 Was rarely afflicted by blues; And whenever he possessed money, He was never known to refuse. But he at last grew old and hoary; His copy began to run dry! Alasl for Q journalists glory,
 He went to poor house to die. But ere by grim death he was smitteu, And in silence they d borne him away, Twas said the last thing he had written Was 8 column on Docs Writing Payr' Tom Mason, in The Journalist The Gossips. Inever before have confessed It. Thought 1t might make matters worse; But all of the gossips had guessed" it Whenever they chanced to converse; There wasn't much use in pretending To give it no serious thought The gossips had guessed" and the ending fa Of that was, ought. And now consider it duty To publish the actual truth: