Jack, I hear you've gone and done it.--Yes, I know; most fellows
will; went and tried it once myself, sir, though you see I'm
single still. And you met her--did you tell me--down at Newport,
last July, and resolved to ask the question at a _soirée_? So
did I.

I suppose you left the ball-room, with its music and its light;
for they say love's flame is brightest in the darkness of the
night. Well, you walked along together, overhead the starlit
sky; and I'll bet--old man, confess it--you were frightened. So
was I.

So you strolled along the terrace, saw the summer moonlight pour
all its radiance on the waters, as they rippled on the shore,
till at length you gathered courage, when you saw that none was
nigh--did you draw her close and tell her that you loved her? So
did I.

Well, I needn't ask you further, and I'm sure I wish you joy.
Think I'll wander down and see you when you're married--eh, my
boy? When the honeymoon is over and you're settled down, we'll
try--What? the deuce you say! Rejected--you rejected? So was
I.

--_Anonymous_.

The necessity for changing pitch is so self-evident that it should be
grasped and applied immediately. However, it requires patient drill to
free yourself from monotony of pitch.