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Evenings At Home
What enjoyments await us, my own little wife,
On a cheery though cold winter eve!-
There be charms in the calmly sedate married life
That the bachelor cannot conceive.
There are cards - there is chess - there is music, you know;
Say the word, my love,-what shall it be?
(While you make up your mind let us banish below
To the remains of the toast and the tea.)
I concur with you, dearest; a song would be best.
Could yot give me The Mistletoe Bough?
'Tis a trifle old-fashioned, it must be confess'd,
But I think I should relish it now.
All your new-fangled lyrics I cannot endure;
But I do love a ballad like that.-
By the way, what a nuisance it is, to be sure,
That you sing so confoundly flat.
Nay, it strikes me, my darling, you're scarce in the vein
To indulge me by warbling to-night.
Let us fly to the board and the chessmen again,
As a source of unfailing delight.
I'm a novice, I grant it; and only can play
In the strictly conventional grooves;-
Yet I'm far above you, dear, I safely can say,
For I think that you just "know the moves."
Let us put up the chess, love, and pull out the cards:
To play whist one is always inclined.
(Double-dummy is equal in many regards
To the four-handed rubber, you'll find.)
Once again I must warn you of one little thing
That you rarely remember, I fear;-
You should seldom, if ever, lead off with a king
When the ace is against you, my dear.
What a pity! -The music was not a success-
('Tis the fault of our Collard, no doubt;)
We could hardly contrive to get on with our chess
(What on earth could your queen be about?)
There's a sameness in whist when one cannot but get
The two trebles and also the rub.-
Never mind: let us wait for to-morrow, my pet.-
Come and kiss me. I'm off to the club!
_________________
Mel
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