Miscellaneous.

Wairarapa Standard, Volume XX, Issue 2076, 3 June 1887, Page 2 (Supplement)

Miscellaneous.

Illy First Kiss.

The conference meeting through at last, The boys aruiuvl the vestry waited To see (no girls come tripphig past, Like snowbirds willing to be mated Not braver be that leaps the wall By level musket flashes iitten, Than 1. who stopped before them all, Who longed to sec me get the mitten. But no ; she blushed and took my arm 1 We let the old folk, have the highway And started toward the Maple Farm Along a kind of lovers’ by-way. I can't remember what we said, ’Twas nothing worth a song or story, Tet that rude path by which we sped Seemed all transformed and ina glory. The snow was crisp beneath our feet, The moon was full, the fields were gleaming ; By hood and tippet sheltered sweet, Her face with youth and health was beaming. The little hand outside her muff— Oh, sculptor, if you could but mould it I So lightly touched iny jacket-cuff, To keep it warm 1 had to hold it. To have her with me there alone—'Twas love and fear and triumph blended. At last we reached the footworn stone Where that delicious journey ended. The old folks, too, were almost home ; Her dimpled hands the latches fingered, We heard the voices nearer come, Yet on the doorstep still we lingered. She shook her ringlets from her hood, And with a “ Thank you, Ned,’’ dissembled; But yet I knew she understood With what a daring wish I trembled. A cloud passed kindly overhead, The moon was slyly peeping through it, Yet hid its face, as if it said, “ Come, now or never 1 do it 1 do it I" My lips till then had only known The kiss of mother and of sister, Cut somehow, full upon her own Sweet, rosy, darling mouth—l kissed he* 1 Perhaps ’twas boyish love, yet still, Ob, listless woman, weary lover 1 To feel once more that fresh, wild thrill I’d give—but who can live youth over f

The Old Fashioned Mint Julip.—Probably the old fashioned julep is in its decadence as a public drink, but it does not follow that the art of constructing this famous Southern refresher is lost. On the contrary, we have knowledge of several old fashioned gardens where the mint bed under the southern wall still blooms luxuriantly ; where white fingers of household angels come every day about this time of the year and pluck a few sprays of the aromatic herb to build a julep for poor old shaky grandpa, who sits in the shady corner of the verandah with his feet on,the rail and his head busy with the olden days. In such a household the art is still preserved. With her sleeves rolled up, the rosy grandaughter stirs sugar in a couple of teaspoonfuls of sparkling water, packs crushed ice to the top of the cutglass goblet, poms in the mellow whiskey until an overthrow threatens and then daintily thrusts tlie. mint spray into the crevices. And the old man, rousing from his dreams, blesses the vision which seems to rise up from the buried days of his youth, and, with his gay nose nestling peacefully in the nosegay at the summit of his midday refresher, quaffs the icy drink, and with a long drawn sigh of relief sinks back to dream again until the dinner bell sounds the hospitable summons. The mint julip still lives, but it is by no means fashionable. Somehow the idea has gotten abroad that the mint ought to be crushed and shaken up with water and whiskey in equal proportions. No man can fall in love with such a mixture. Poor juleps have ruined the reputation of this most famous drink. Inspiration of Rural Scenes —lt is hardly necessary to more than refer to Whittier’s life as illustrating the way in which his poetic nature drew its inspiration from rural scenes and the fact that, a poem of Burns first stimulated his imaginative expression shows that he was touched with the same sensitiveness to natural beauty. Longfellow, with his two homes, one at Cambridge, the other at Nahant, was peculiarly favored in bis opportunities for the leisurely observations of the phenomena of sea and shore, which is so sympathetically transferred to bis pages. Emerson at Concord found the full fruition of the hopes of the philosophic life which he longed for when he bade adieu to the proud world in those memorable lines which reminded it that ho was going home. For a historian like Prescott, it would soem less desirable than for a poet to have a home among the hills or by the sea, yet be was more fortunate than any of bis literary contemporaries in possessing, beside a noble city mansion which is still occupied by bis kinsfolk, an ancestral estate at Peppered, and a cottage on the crags at Nahant. There was rest and refreshment for Prescott in his changes from his Boston homo to one or the other of his out of town re treats, and his biographer has well emphasized the part they played in the economy of his well rounded life. Those illustrations, which might bo extended by examples from among our younger authors, will suffice to show the influence which the home in the country exerts upon the literary development of the author whose time is largely passed in the city. He Chased a Shadow.— As the engineer of engine 1,277 on the Wabash, pulled out of Given, en route for Ottumwa, one evening recently, he noticed what appeared to be n small animal bopping along the track ahead of the pilot. Gradually he increased the speed of the locomotive, but the little quadruped seemed also to have “dropped another notch,I’and 1 ’and despite the tremendous gait of ’77 easily retained its position. Disgusted beyond expression the engineer began heaving chunks of coal at it, but all in vain. It seemed to bear a charmed life, and successfully baffled all endeavors of the engineer and'fireman to cheek its wild career. For twenty-one miles the engineer had chased that delusive object, and thoroughly disgusted. he gave up the race at Ottumwa, and slopped. The object stopped also. With pick in hand the engineer made a sneak on the animal, harmless, but possessed of such anomalous migratory powers, With quick precision lie brought the pick down full on the animal’s back, but a •‘sickening thud" was the only sound he heard, and with a wild laugh he arose, henceforth to he a raving maniac. For a full hour he bad been making desperate efforts to run over the shadow of a leaf adhering to the headlight, and the discovery and reaction was too much for his already shattered nerves. An Encouraging Sign.— a thing most encouraging about the working men is that they are beginning to want to he told the truth, both about themselves and the situation. Nothing is more manly or promising than the love of and the earnest seeking for truth; and not only the workingman, hot every man, should desire to know what is true, if important, in regard to his rights, privileges and duties. It is not one class of persons alone that is satisfied with so much of the truth as pleases or promises profit to it. Workingmen arc very much like their neighbors. They mo as a rule honest and diligent. They are sometimes carried away by demagogues, as religionists are by bigots, and voters by party cries, We know nothing which would promise more advantage to all than a clear understanding by all of the fundamental principles which teach that the interests of each individual are inseparably hound in and with the interests of ail ; an 1 that a wrong done (oany --u ■ is an injury to ties whole body politic.