Late in the morn I awoke,--I
Puzzled with all my might
In vain to recall the joke I
Made in the silent night.
What _was_ it about? No dreamer
Am I! No--I think--I frown--
When next I make a screamer
In bed--_I will write it down_.

By the side of the bed a taper
Shall ever with matches be,
A pencil and piece of paper,
To note what occurs to me.
* * * * *
Since then I have tried, but the late joke,
As seen in my bedside scrawl,
Is always so poor,--that the great joke,
_I'm sure, was no joke at all!_

* * * * *

YES OR NO?

["The hand-writing of well-educated Ladies is often
disgracefully illegible."--_A Ladies' Journal_.]

Oh, never did lover in fable
In such a predicament stand,
A letter I wrote to my MABEL,