CHILD AND MOTHER.

MOTHER-MY-LOVE, if you'll give me

your hand,

And go where I ask you to wander,

I will lead you away to a beautiful land,

The Dreamland that's waiting out yonder. We'll walk in a sweet posie-garden out there,

Where moonlight and starlight are streaming, And the flowers and the birds are filling the air With the fragrance and music of dreaming.

There'll be no little tired-out boy to undress,
No questions or cares to perplex you,
There'll be no little bruises or bumps to caress,
Nor patching of stockings to vex you;

For I'll rock you away on a silver-dew stream
And sing you asleep when you 're weary,
And no one shall know of our beautiful dream
But you and your own little dearie.

And when I am tired I'll nestle my head

In the bosom that's soothed me so often, And the wide-awake stars shall sing, in my stead, A song which our dreaming shall soften. So, Mother-my-Love, let me take your dear hand, And away through the starlight we'll wander, Away through the mist to the beautiful land, The Dreamland that's waiting out yonder.

THE CONVERSAZZHYONY.

WHAT

WHAT conversazzhyonies wuz I really did not know,

For that, you must remember, wuz a powerful spell

ago;

The camp wuz new 'nd noisy, 'nd only modrit sized, So fashionable sossiety wuz hardly crystallized. There had n't been no grand events to interest the

men,

But a lynchin', or a inquest, or a jackpot now an' then.

The wimmin-folks wuz mighty scarce, for wimmin', ez a rool,

Don't go to Colorado much, excep' for teachin' school,

An' bein' scarce an' chipper and pretty (like as not), The bachelors perpose, 'nd air accepted on the

spot.

Now Sorry Tom wuz owner uv the Gosh-all-Hemlock mine,

The wich allowed his better haff to dress all-fired

fine;

For Sorry Tom wuz mighty proud uv her, an' she

uv him,

Though she wuz short an' tacky, an' he wuz tall an'

slim,

An' she wuz edjicated, an' Sorry Tom wuz not, Yet, for her sake, he 'd whack up every cussid cent he'd got!

Waal, jest by way uv celebratin' matrimonial joys, She thought she'd give a conversazzhyony to the

boys,

A peert an' likely lady, 'nd ez full uv 'cute idees 'Nd uv etiquettish notions ez a fyste is full uv

fleas.

Three-fingered Hoover kind uv kicked, an' said they might be durned

So fur ez any conversazzhyony wuz concerned; He'd come to Red Hoss Mountain to tunnel for

the ore,

An' not to go to parties, - quite another kind uv

But, bein' he wuz candidate for marshal uv the

camp,

I rayther had the upper holts in arguin' with the

scamp;

Sez I, "Three-fingered Hoover, can't ye see it is

yer game

To go for all the votes ye kin an' collar uv the same?"

The wich perceivin', Hoover sez, “Waal, ef I must, I must;

So I'll frequent that conversazzhyony, ef I bust!"

Three-fingered Hoover wuz a trump! Ez fine a man wuz he

Ez ever caused an inquest or blossomed on a tree!

A big, broad man, whose face bespoke a honest heart within,

With a bunch uv yaller whiskers appertainin' to his chin,

'Nd a fierce mustache turnt up so fur that both his ears wuz hid,

Like the picture that you always see in the "Life

uv Cap'n Kidd."