TROUBLES IN HIGH LIFE.

BY MRS. J. G. BURNETT.


[Illustration]


Two miniature mothers at play on the floor
Their wearisome cares were debating,
How Dora and Arabelle, children no more,
Were twice as much trouble as ever before,
And the causes each had her own cares to deplore
Were, really, well worth my relating.

Said one little mother: "You really don't know
What a burden my life is with Bella!
Her stravagant habits I hope she'll outgrow.
She buys her kid gloves by the dozen, you know,
Sits for _cartes de visites_ every fortnight or so,
And don't do a thing that I tell her!"

Those stylish young ladies (the dollies, you know)
Had complexions soft, pearly and waxen,
With arms, neck and forehead, as white as the snow,
Golden hair sweeping down to the waist and below,
Eyes blue as the sky, cheeks with youth's ruddy glow,--
Of a beauty pure Grecian and Saxon.