Morning Herald

From our Evening Edition of yesterday.

Basia:
By Joanna's tertius,

Why you begin, I see, to grow unruly;
What! that I suffer'd you my hand to clasp.
I did not give you leave to kiss me, surely;
Why sir, I really am quite shock'd, I vow,
To see of late, how very rude you grow.
What would my mother say? - I dread to think!
Oh dear, if she had caught us! - how I tremble!
I fear tonight I shall not sleep a wink -
And think how you'll oblige me to dissemble!
How I shall blush, if I but meet her eye!
Indeed, 'twas very wrong, you can't deny.
Pray, pray, remove your hand from round my waist,
I must not suffer you to sit so near me,
I'm sure 'tis wrong to be so close embrac'd,
You mean no good by doing so, I fear me.
My mother warn'd me of you to take heed,
I did not think you'd be so bold, indeed.
Pray don't approach your lips so close to mine
As you do now - you know there's no one listening.
Why should you whisper then - I can't divine
And see, your eyes are now with mischief glistening.
Oh, if you dare again attempt another -
Why really, sir, I shall inform my mother.
So if you must do such a naughty thing,
And what so oft you've said is true, you love me,
Perhaps, dear youth, a simple golden ring
To grant such favors, might have power to move me;
Were I your wife, of course 'twould not be wrong,
And then you'd, if you pleas'd, kiss all day long.