A Packet of LettersI.FROM MR. RUFUS FOX TO MISS BLANCHE GOOSE.The Fernwoods, Friday.Dear Miss Goose:Accept apologies profuse,For the abrupt and hasty way,In which I left you yesterday.I don’t know how I came to beSo very rude, but then you see,Iwasjust offering my arm,When stupid Rover from the farm,Appeared so suddenly, and so—Well, two is company, you know,While three—! Besides, ’twas getting late,So I decided not to wait.Yet, after all, another dayWill do as well. What do you say?Can you contrive to dine with meTo-morrow afternoon at three?Pray do, and by the hollyhocksMeet yours, sincerely,Rufus Fox.II.FROM MISS BLANCHE GOOSE TO MR. FOX.The Farmyard, Friday afternoon.Dear Mr. Fox, it seems sosoon,You almost take my breath away!To-morrow? Three?—whatshallI say?Nothing could charm me more—but, no—Alas! I fear I cannot go.Don’t think that Iresent, I pray,Your hastiness of yesterday.It is not that. But if I went,Without my dear Mama’s consent,And she should somehow chance to hear,She would bedreadfullysevere;And so, oh, dear! it is no use!Believe me,Sadlyyours,Blanche Goose.P. S.—On second thoughts, dear Fox,I’ll meet you by the hollyhocks,For if Mama but knew howkindYou are, I’m sure she would not mind,To-morrow, then—we’ll meet atthree;Don’t fail to be there. Yours,B. G.III.FROM MR. RUFUS FOX TO HIS COUSIN REYNARD.Friday.Dear Cousin, just a lineTo ask if you will come to dine(Informally, you know) with meTo-morrow afternoon at three.Now don’t refuse, whate’er you do,I have a treat in store for you:A charming goose (and geese, you know,Do not on all the bushes grow!)A dream of tenderness in white,A case of “hunger at first sight.”I know, old boy, you’ll not be deafTothisinducement.Yours,R. F.P. S.—Miss Goose agrees to beBeside the hollyhocks at three!IV.EXTRACT FROM THE DIARY OF ROVER, THE DOG.Saturday night.Well, I must say,I quite renewed my youth to-day!How lucky that I chanced to go,Just when I did, beside that rowOf hollyhocks beyond the gate!Lucky forherat any rate;For suddenly I heard Miss GooseStruggling and crying, “Let me loose!”And, from behind the hollyhocks,Who should jump out but Mr. Fox!(The very same one, by the way,Ialmostcaught the other day.)Soon as I nabbed him, in his fright,He dropped Miss Goose and took to flight.Then after him like mad I flew,But—what could poor old Rover do?I am not what I used to be,So I let go, and ran to seeAt once how poor Miss Goose had fared,And found her much less hurt than scaredFrom having come so near the noose:—A sadder and a wiser goose.V.NOTE FROM MR. RUFUS FOX TO HIS COUSIN REYNARD.Dear Cousin:This is just to sayWhy dinner was postponed to-day,—The goose had failed us, that was all;Excuse, I beg, this hurried scrawl.Will write to-morrow to explain—Just now my paw is in such painThat when I try to write it shocksMy nerves.Yours truly,Rufus Fox.P. S.—I’d thank you if you sentA bottle of that linimentYou spoke of several days ago—The kind for “dog-bites,” don’t you know.
I.
FROM MR. RUFUS FOX TO MISS BLANCHE GOOSE.
The Fernwoods, Friday.
Dear Miss Goose:Accept apologies profuse,For the abrupt and hasty way,In which I left you yesterday.I don’t know how I came to beSo very rude, but then you see,Iwasjust offering my arm,When stupid Rover from the farm,Appeared so suddenly, and so—Well, two is company, you know,While three—! Besides, ’twas getting late,So I decided not to wait.Yet, after all, another dayWill do as well. What do you say?Can you contrive to dine with meTo-morrow afternoon at three?Pray do, and by the hollyhocksMeet yours, sincerely,Rufus Fox.
Dear Miss Goose:Accept apologies profuse,For the abrupt and hasty way,In which I left you yesterday.I don’t know how I came to beSo very rude, but then you see,Iwasjust offering my arm,When stupid Rover from the farm,Appeared so suddenly, and so—Well, two is company, you know,While three—! Besides, ’twas getting late,So I decided not to wait.Yet, after all, another dayWill do as well. What do you say?Can you contrive to dine with meTo-morrow afternoon at three?Pray do, and by the hollyhocksMeet yours, sincerely,Rufus Fox.
II.
FROM MISS BLANCHE GOOSE TO MR. FOX.
The Farmyard, Friday afternoon.
Dear Mr. Fox, it seems sosoon,You almost take my breath away!To-morrow? Three?—whatshallI say?Nothing could charm me more—but, no—Alas! I fear I cannot go.Don’t think that Iresent, I pray,Your hastiness of yesterday.
Dear Mr. Fox, it seems sosoon,You almost take my breath away!To-morrow? Three?—whatshallI say?Nothing could charm me more—but, no—Alas! I fear I cannot go.Don’t think that Iresent, I pray,Your hastiness of yesterday.
It is not that. But if I went,Without my dear Mama’s consent,And she should somehow chance to hear,She would bedreadfullysevere;And so, oh, dear! it is no use!
It is not that. But if I went,Without my dear Mama’s consent,And she should somehow chance to hear,She would bedreadfullysevere;And so, oh, dear! it is no use!
Believe me,Sadlyyours,Blanche Goose.
P. S.—On second thoughts, dear Fox,I’ll meet you by the hollyhocks,For if Mama but knew howkindYou are, I’m sure she would not mind,To-morrow, then—we’ll meet atthree;Don’t fail to be there. Yours,
P. S.—On second thoughts, dear Fox,I’ll meet you by the hollyhocks,For if Mama but knew howkindYou are, I’m sure she would not mind,To-morrow, then—we’ll meet atthree;Don’t fail to be there. Yours,
B. G.
FROM MR. RUFUS FOX TO HIS COUSIN REYNARD.
Friday.
Dear Cousin, just a lineTo ask if you will come to dine(Informally, you know) with meTo-morrow afternoon at three.Now don’t refuse, whate’er you do,I have a treat in store for you:A charming goose (and geese, you know,Do not on all the bushes grow!)A dream of tenderness in white,A case of “hunger at first sight.”I know, old boy, you’ll not be deafTothisinducement.
Dear Cousin, just a lineTo ask if you will come to dine(Informally, you know) with meTo-morrow afternoon at three.Now don’t refuse, whate’er you do,I have a treat in store for you:A charming goose (and geese, you know,Do not on all the bushes grow!)A dream of tenderness in white,A case of “hunger at first sight.”I know, old boy, you’ll not be deafTothisinducement.
Yours,R. F.
P. S.—Miss Goose agrees to beBeside the hollyhocks at three!
P. S.—Miss Goose agrees to beBeside the hollyhocks at three!
EXTRACT FROM THE DIARY OF ROVER, THE DOG.
Saturday night.
Well, I must say,I quite renewed my youth to-day!How lucky that I chanced to go,Just when I did, beside that rowOf hollyhocks beyond the gate!Lucky forherat any rate;For suddenly I heard Miss GooseStruggling and crying, “Let me loose!”And, from behind the hollyhocks,Who should jump out but Mr. Fox!(The very same one, by the way,Ialmostcaught the other day.)Soon as I nabbed him, in his fright,He dropped Miss Goose and took to flight.Then after him like mad I flew,But—what could poor old Rover do?I am not what I used to be,So I let go, and ran to seeAt once how poor Miss Goose had fared,And found her much less hurt than scaredFrom having come so near the noose:—A sadder and a wiser goose.
Well, I must say,I quite renewed my youth to-day!How lucky that I chanced to go,Just when I did, beside that rowOf hollyhocks beyond the gate!Lucky forherat any rate;For suddenly I heard Miss GooseStruggling and crying, “Let me loose!”And, from behind the hollyhocks,Who should jump out but Mr. Fox!(The very same one, by the way,Ialmostcaught the other day.)Soon as I nabbed him, in his fright,He dropped Miss Goose and took to flight.Then after him like mad I flew,But—what could poor old Rover do?I am not what I used to be,So I let go, and ran to seeAt once how poor Miss Goose had fared,And found her much less hurt than scaredFrom having come so near the noose:—A sadder and a wiser goose.
NOTE FROM MR. RUFUS FOX TO HIS COUSIN REYNARD.
Dear Cousin:
This is just to sayWhy dinner was postponed to-day,—The goose had failed us, that was all;Excuse, I beg, this hurried scrawl.Will write to-morrow to explain—Just now my paw is in such painThat when I try to write it shocksMy nerves.
This is just to sayWhy dinner was postponed to-day,—The goose had failed us, that was all;Excuse, I beg, this hurried scrawl.Will write to-morrow to explain—Just now my paw is in such painThat when I try to write it shocksMy nerves.
Yours truly,Rufus Fox.
P. S.—I’d thank you if you sentA bottle of that linimentYou spoke of several days ago—The kind for “dog-bites,” don’t you know.
P. S.—I’d thank you if you sentA bottle of that linimentYou spoke of several days ago—The kind for “dog-bites,” don’t you know.