DISPROVED.

JULIA H. THAYER.

"Poh-poh! Who sends the valentine
In our refined, enlightened day?
Back to its pagan gloom consign
This worship at a worthless shrine,”
I heard the wise old cynic say.

"Youth has outgrown the childish toy,
The highly-colored heart and flowers
And Cupid's foolish darts employ
No more the nobler aim and joy

Of this exalted race of ours."

But softly 'mid the meerschaum's smoke
That circled his didactic head

A far, faint dream of life awoke,
And when the steel-blue cloudlets broke

A sun-like face its radiance shed.

The one, One face-the very same.

The years were gone-love was divine!
And to his cold, blanched lips there came
Again the blush of that dear name,
His first, last, only Valentine.

Alas! for us, so worldly-wise!

Like dead leaves, 'round us fade and fall

Our sophistries, in poor disguise,

While shapes we scarcely recognize

Remain the vernal things of all.

There is no unbelief. The heart

Of Truth beats strong, with master-stroke, Above the dissonance of Art,

And theories that act a part

Are certain, too, to end in smoke.

FATHER AND MOTHER.

Young America has some very queer ways; one is the habit of calling certain of his relations, "the governor," "the old man," "the old woman," "her highness.' Who are these people that he speaks of in such a would-be funny way? Why, they are the ones who have worked hard for years that he might have an easy time, who have worn blue jean and eaten johnny cake, that he might wear broadcloth and dine expensively. They are, of all peo. ple in the world, the ones whom he ought to delight to honor. They are his father and mother. What do you suppose is the reason he doesn't call them so? Perhaps it is because he is ashamed of them. Perhaps their grammar is a little crooked; well, it sounds better than his slang. Their manners may be a little stiff and old fashioned, but does his rowdyism make him appear any better? Ah! Master America, I fear you have some foolish notions in your head! I fear those notions are in the place where your common sense ought to be. I don't ask you to take any advice from me, but just be ready to tell why you are not proud of that trembling mother who has spent her strength in caring for you. If you do not cherish her in her declining years you are not worthy of the noble parents who so tenderly cared for you in your helpless infancy.

THE POWER OF MONOSYLLABLES.

J. ADDISON ALEXANDER.

Think not that strength lies in the big round word,

Or that the brief and plain must needs be weak;

To whom can this be true who once has heard The cry for help, the tongue that all men speak When want, or woe, or fear is in the throat.

So that each word gasped out is like a shriek Pressed from the sore throat, or a strange, wild

note

Sung by some fay or fiend! There is a strength

Which dies if stretched too far, or spun too fine; Which has more height than breadth, more depth than length.

Let but this force of thought and speech be mine, And he that will may take the sleek, fat phrase Which glows and burns not, though it gleam and shine;

Light, but not heat-a flash without a blaze.

Nor is it mere strength that the short word boasts:

It serves far more than fight or storm can tell— The roar of waves that clash on rock-bound

coasts;

The crash of tall trees when the wild winds

swell;

The roar of guns; the groans of men that die

On blood-stained fields. It has a voice as well For them that far off on their sick beds lie.

For them that weep, for them that mourn the dead,

For them that laugh, and dance, and clap the

hand;

To joy's quick step, as well as grief's slow tread, The sweet, plain words we learnt at first keep

time;

And though the theme be sad, or gay, or grand, With each, with all, these may be made to chime,

In thought or speech, or song, or prose, or rhyme.

UNSOLVED MYSTERIES.

R. J. BURDETTE.

There are some unsolved mysteries in the problem of life that give me cause for reflection and anxiety. If I were rich I believe I would build me a lonely cell with a storeroom like a wholesale grocery, where I might have plenty of help in studying the problems of life. For often and often I wonder and wonder:

Why you always put teaspoons into the vase upside down?

Why is it so wrong to eat pie with a knife? What Washington said to General Lee at the battle of Monmouth?

Why a man who "has gone out of politics never misses a convention?

What the State would do for penitentiaries if all the rascals should suddenly step up and confess?

Why a woman falls like a flash not two inches from the banana skin she steps on, while a man falls like a cyclone half way round the block, howling like a demon at every plunge?

Why "pure bear's oil" is cheaper when pork is away down?

Why a man frequently tries to make himself necessary when he would serve humanity much better by making himself scarce?

Why Tom Thumb was always billed as "23 years old" until the day he died, when he made a jump of more than his lifetime?

Whatever became of the "blue glass" remedy?