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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