Wit and Humor of America, Vol 08 — V-A-S-E, The

BY JAMES JEFFREY ROCHE

From the madding crowd they stand apart, The maidens four and the Work of Art;

And none might tell from sight alone In which had Culture ripest grown-- The Gotham Million fair to see, The Philadelphia Pedigree, The Boston Mind of azure hue, Or the soulful Soul from Kalamazoo-- For all loved Art in a seemly way, With an earnest soul and a capital A. * * * * * Long they worshipped; but no one broke The sacred stillness, until upspoke The Western one from the nameless place, Who, blushing, said: "What a lovely vase!"

Over three faces a sad smile flew, And they edged away from Kalamazoo.

But Gotham's haughty soul was stirred To crush the stranger with one small word.

Deftly hiding reproof in praise, She cries: "'T is, indeed, a lovely vaze!"

But brief her unworthy triumph when The lofty one from the house of Penn, With the consciousness of two grandpapas, Exclaims: "It is quite a lovely vahs!"

And glances round with an anxious thrill, Awaiting the word of Beacon Hill.

But the Boston maid smiles courteouslee And gently murmurs: "Oh, pardon me!

"I did not catch your remark, because I was so entranced with that charming vaws!"

_Dies erit proegelida Sinistra quum Bostonia.

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