June 14, 1865, Vol. 1. No. 37. Page 1
I sit in my dreary attic,
And ponder the long ago,
What time with youthful ardor
I sought to be a beau;
My attempts were always bootless,
Tho’ I made it the study of life;
Oh, why are women so foolish?
None ever would be my wife!
One eve I spied from my window,
A miss promenading the street,
With the daintiest face and figure,
And the cunningest little feet,
And straight down the creaky stairway,
In haste I gaily stalked,
And after the winsome beauty
In trepidation walked.
Alas for my expectations!
She never smiled on me,
For a young man presently joined her,
And the cold shoulder gave to me!
My bachelor life is irksome,
My attic’s as dull as care,
My only friends are Jack and Bob
(My hounds) and a good cigar.
My age, I will not deny,
Is a trifle over two score,
But my looks are excessively youthful,
Tho’ I’ll never be handsome more!
What a shame that girls should marry
A man that’s more of a boy!
Why don’t they wed--? Well they shouldn’t
Matured men’s hopes destroy.
Now listen; my heart beats warmly
With all the impulse of youth!
I can swear that I’ll love dearly,
And what more can I do forsooth?
Should any young lady desire
To change her name for mine,
Just let me know by over-land-route,
For “now’s the accepted time.”