Laura Secord, the heroine of 1812 Part 27

_Many Voices_.--Yes, brothers! brothers! we are brothers all!

_A Voice_.--And sisters!

_Mr. Tom_.--I would say sisters too, but that I fear My lady guests would think I did presume; But yet I know, and knowing it am proud, That most men here to-night would welcome all The sweet girl-graduates that would fill the list Did but the College Council set aside A foolish prejudice, and let them in.

And now, I know a girl who long has worked To pa.s.s the exams, take the proud degree I hold to-day, and yet her petticoat Forbade.

_Several Voices_.--Name! Name! A toast! A toast!

_Mr. Tom_.--I will not name her, gentlemen, but bring Her to your presence, if you so incline; First begging that you will not let surprise Oust self-possession, for my friend's a girl Of timid temper, though she's bold to act If duty calls.

_Many Voices_.--Your friend! Your friend!

_Mr. Tom_.--I go to fetch her, gentlemen; dear ladies all, I beg your suffrages of gentle eyes And kindly smile to greet my guest.

[_Exit_ MR. TOM CHRISTOPHER.

SCENE 2.--_The same_.

_Enter_ MISS KATE BLOGGS _in full dinner toilet of Reseda silk, and carrying a dandelion and lily bouquet_.

_Miss Blaggs_.--My cousin! oh, my cousin!

[_Rushes excitedly forward and falls into hysterics on_ Miss BLOGGS'

_neck. The company gather round in great surprise_.

_Miss B_.--Dear Orphea! Orphea, my dear! oh, water, gentlemen!

Lay her upon the couch. See! see! she gasps!

Orphea, dear girl!

[_The ladies are much alarmed, but Miss BLAGGS soon gives signs of recovery, and sits up_.

_Orphea (in tears)_.--Oh, Kate! it struck me so to see you once again as you were wont to be; those nasty ugly pants forever gone, and you a girl again.

_Kate_.--Dear friends, you look surprised.

Pray Heaven you'll not look worse when you know all.

I am indeed a girl, though you have known Me hitherto as Thomas Christopher.

Four years ago I pa.s.sed the exams, for Us women, at your University.

Once more I pa.s.sed. But when again I would, I stumbled for the teaching that is chained-- Like ancient scripture to the reading desk-- Within your College walls. No word of mine Could move the flinty heads of College Council.

Order and discipline forbade, they said, That women should sit-side by side with men Within their walls. At church, or concert, or At theatre, or ball, no separation's made Of s.e.xes. And so I, being a girl Of firm and independent mind, resolved To do as many a one beside has done For lesser prize, and, as a man, sat at The feet of our Gamaliels until I got The learning that I love. That I may now Look you all in the face without a blush, save--that Which naturally comes at having thus To avow my hardihood, is praise, I trow, You will not think unworthy; and to me It forms a soft remembrance that will ever dwell Within my grateful heart.

Can you forgive me?

_Many Voices_.--We do, we must. All honour to the brave!

Speak for us, Biggs.

_Mr. Biggs_.--I cannot speak, except to ask the lady's pardon For our rough ways.

_Kate_.--No; pardon me.

_Many Voices_.--No! no! we ask your pardon.

_Kate_.--If that, indeed, as I must need believe From all your looks, you do not blame me much, Endue me with a favour. It is this:-- Let every man and woman here to-night Look out for those pet.i.tions that will soon Be placed in many a store by those our friends Who in this city form a ladies' club, And each one sign. Nay more, to show you mean What I, with swelling heart have often heard You strongly urge, the rights of women to The College privileges, get all your friends To sign. Do what your judgment charges you To help so good a cause, and let the lists Of 1883 have no more names Set by themselves as women. Let us go In numbrous strength before the Parliament, And ask our rights in such a stirring sort, They shall be yielded. Then I shall know Your brotherly and pleasant words mean faith, And shall no more regret a daring act That else will fail of reason.

May I thus trust?

_All_.--You may! You may.

_Kate_.--Then hands all round, my friends, till break of day.

FABLES:

ORIGINAL AND FROM THE FRENCH.

THE CHOICE.

As fragrant essences from summer flowers, Steal, on aerial pinions, to the sense, So, on the viewless wing of rumour, sped A word that set the aviary on flame.

"To-morrow comes the Prince," it said, "to choose A bird of gifts will grace the royal bower."

O then began a fluttering and a fume-- A judging each of all! Pert airs and speech Flew thick as moulted feathers. Little heads Were tossed in lofty pride, or in disdain Were turned aside. For each bird deemed his own The merits that would charm. One only sang To-day his daily song, nor joined the crowd In envious exultation. To him spoke Another of his kind. "Vain one, refrain That everlasting pipe, fit for a cage Behind some cotter's lattice, where thy gray And thickset form may shun the cultured eye.

A word of warning, too--hide from the Prince."

"Dear brother," cried the gray, "be not annoyed; Who sees your elegance of form, and depth Of perfect colour, ne'er will notice me."

The morrow came,--the Prince. Each bird essayed To please the royal taste, and many a meed Of praise was won and given--this for his hue;-- That for his elegance;--another for His fascinating grace. Yet something lacked, 'Twas evident, and many an anxious glance Betrayed the latent fear.

"Yon little bird In quiet gray and green courts not my praise, Yet should a singer be," exclaimed the Prince, As with a critical and searching eye He scanned the small compet.i.tors for choice.

Obedient to his governor, the bird Poured forth his song, oblivious of the crowd Of vain and envious round him, in whose eyes He stood contemptible. The Prince, entranced, Broke forth at length: "Nor hue, nor elegance, Nor fascination, can outvie the gift Of genius. My choice is made."

And to the great offence Of one bright bird, at least, the humble gray Became the royal treasure.

INSINCERITY.

Tired of the narrow limits her a.s.signed, Truth fled the earth; and men were fain to grope In utter darkness. Blindly they blundered, And were long distraught, till on the horizon rose A luminosity, and in its midst A form. They cried, "'Tis Truth! fair Truth returned!'

And though the light seemed dim, the form but faint To that of other days, they wors.h.i.+pped it, And all things went along much as at first.

Until, born none knew whence, a doubt arose; Grew strong; and spake; and pondering, men began To quest their G.o.ddess' claim. Then, too, was set A secret watch, a covert test for proof; And one fine day there rose a clamour, such As cheated mobs will make, when cunning puts A veto on their claim.