_Virginia University Magazine._


~Her Little Glove.~

Her little glove, I dare aver,
Would set your pulses all astir;
It hides a something safe from sight
So soft and warm, so small and white,
A cynic would turn flatterer!

Could Pegasus have better spur?
'Twould almost cause a saint to err--
A Puritan to grow polite--
Her little glove.

'Twill satisfy a connoisseur,
This dainty thing of lavender;
And when it clasps her fingers tight
I think--I wonder if it's right--
That somehow--well--I wish _I_ were
Her little glove.

FREDERIC LAWRENCE KNOWLES.
_Wesleyan Verse_.


~Skating Hath Charms.~

So cold was the night,