I shouldn't like to say.




MAKING NEW YEAR'S CALLS.


Shining patent-leather,
Tie of spotless white;
Through the muddy weather
Rushing 'round till night.
Gutters all o'erflowing,
Like Niagara Falls;
Bless me! this is pleasant,
Making New Year's calls.

Rushing up the door-step,
Ringing at the bell--
"Mrs. Jones receive to-day?"
"Yes, sir." "Very well."
Sending in your pasteboard,
Waiting in the halls,
Bless me! this is pleasant,
Making New Year's calls.

Skipping in the parlour,
Bowing to the floor,
Lady of the house there,
Half a dozen more;