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1849–1906

A LEGEND OF ST. VALENTINE.

George Augustus Baker

Come! Why, halloa, that you, Jack? How's the world been using you? Want your pipe? it's in the jar — Think I might be looking blue.

Maud's been breaking off with me, Fact — see here — I've got the ring. That's the note she sent it in; Read it — soothing sort of thing.

Jack, you know I write sometimes — Must have read some things of mine. Well, I thought I'd just send Maud Something for a valentine.

So I ground some verses out In the softest kind of style, Full of love, and that, you know — Bothered me an awful while;

Quite a heavy piece of work. So when I had got them done — Why, I thought them much too good Just to waste that way on one.

Jack, I told you, did n't I, All about that black-eyed girl Up in Stratford — last July — Oh! you know; you saw her curl?

Well, old fellow, she's the one That this row is all about, For I sent her — who'd have thought Maud would ever find it out —

Those same verses, word for word — Hang it, man! you need n't roar — “Splendid joke!” well, so I thought — No, do n't think so any more.

Yesterday, you know it rained, I'd been up late — at a ball — Did n't know what else to do — Went up and made Maud a call,

Found some other girl there, too, They were playing a duet. “Fred, my cousin, Nelly Deane,” — Yes, Jack, there was my brunette;

You should just have seen me, Jack — Now, old fellow, please do n't laugh, I feel bad about it — fact — And I really can n't stand chaff.

Well, I tried to talk to Maud, There was Nell, though, sitting by; Every now and then she'd laugh, Sure I can n't imagine why.

Maud would read that beastly poem, Nell's eyes said in just one glance, “Wont I make you pay for this, If I ever get the chance!”

Some one came and rang the bell, Just a note for Nell, by post. Jack, I saw my monogram — I'd have rather seen a ghost.

Yes — her verses — I suppose That her folks had sent them down — Could n't get up there, you know — Till she'd left and come to town.

Nelly looked them quickly through — Laughed — by Jove, I thought she'd choke. “Maud — he'll kill me — dear! oh, dear!— Read that; is n't it a joke?”

Maud glanced through them — sank right down On the sofa — hid her face — “Crying!” — not much — laughing, Jack — Do n't think she's a hopeless case.

I just grabbed my hat and left — Only wish I'd gone before. How they laughed!— I heard them, Jack — Till I got outside the door.

There, confession's done me good, I can never win her back, So I'll calmly let her slide — Pass the ash-cup, will you, Jack.

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A LEGEND OF ST. VALENTINE. · George Augustus Baker · Poetry Cove