WHEN OUT LATE.

Gisborne Times, Volume XXVIII, Issue 2746, 26 February 1910, Page 3 (Supplement)

WHEN OUT LATE.

EXCUSES IN RHYME FOR THE LATE HOME-COMER.

“•Here’s the very latest thing in literature,” said the book agent, gingerly advancing his toe into the path of the closing door. “It is called ‘The Compendium of Excuses.’ ” The door slowly opened. The book agent went calmly on. “It contains a credible excuse for every crimo in the social calendar. Suppose, sir, you are out a littlo later than usual. The old gags about the sick friend, the late stay at tlie office, and the broken-down car wouldn’t fool the youngest member of the Christian Endeavor Society any more. You want something new. ‘The Compendium of Excuses’ supplies it.” “Como in,” said the man in the doorway■ “Now,” continued the book agent, “as an aid to the momory, the excuses are written in verse. Of course, if you prefer to state them in prose, you are at liberty to do so. The form of excuse should depend largely upon tho poetical or non-jpoetical sense, of the person addressed.” The man in the door looked doubtful. “Let’s hear some of ’em,” he said. “With .pleasure,” replied the book agent. “We will state a hypothetical case.

“It is three o’clock in the morning. You have been out imagining you were enjoying yourself. You are quite happy. You bound up tho front steps. Your happiness oozes out. Your wife is waiting at the door. She says something. Depend on it, she says something. Do you tremble? Not so you could notice it. Up pops your subconscious mind, loaded with the genius of the excuse-hook. You hand her excuse No. 173:. —

“My dearest darling, only wife; liow sweet of you to wait, E’en though the partner of your life Returns a little late. “That will flatter her,” digressed the hook agent, “and prepare her for the rest. You go ou : “I feel you’re very keen to know How I could stay away From one I love and worship so Until the break of day. “Of course, you know, my honey bunch, It’s not my fault at all, IVI come home every day for lunch Did not my business call. “That’ll make her think of tho selfsacrificing way in which you toil in tlie City all day,” observed tho book agent. “You see .she’s beginning to melt. Now’s tho timo to spring the excuse. Here it is:

“Dear heart, I bought to-day for you A handsome diamond ring. It set me back a bit, s tis true, But money’s not the thing. “For as I ran to catch a car (’Twas then but fivo o'clock) I dropped the ring, my shining star, And—’twas an awful shock. “Into an open hole it rolled, And dropped, with scarce a sound, Into the sewer, dark and cold, Which rumbles underground. “What could I do? I racked my brain; Then, like a lightning-flash, I thought, ‘lt must coni© out again,’ Enough! I made a dash. “Where? Where hut to the sewer’s end— It’s outlet, one might say — And there the night I had to spend . Until the break o’ day. “ ‘Break o’ day’ is good,” annotated the book agent, “and will account- for the early hour. To continue: —

“Long horn's thero I spent for you— Oh, darling of my heart— Before dejected, sore and blue, I, ringless, would depart. “And since the ring is lost and gone And cannot greet your eyes, . Beginning with-this very dawn. ‘ Wo will economize, ......“And starting ,-from this morning on No saving will despise Until, my own soft-hearted fawn, We’ll buy 1 another prize., • “Jove!” exclaimed, the book agent, “he’s wonderful! He forgets nothing. The .beautiful expression in those last eight lines is calculated to make the wife hold herself in for fear the husband will carry out the throat of economy. What binding do you prefer ? Thanks for the order! Good day!” „