The sun that brights the fairest morn,
The stars that gleam in Capricorn,
Do not so much the skies adorn

            As does my lovely Thalia.

The tints with which the rose enchants,
The fragrance which the violet grants;
Each doth suggest, but ne’er supplants,

            The charms of dainty Thalia.

To gaze on her is sweet delight: 
’T is heaven whene’er she ’s in my sight,
But when she’s gone, ’t is endless night—­

            All ’s dark without my Thalia.

I vow to her, by God above,
By hope of life, by depth of love,
That from her side I ne’er will rove,

            So much love I my Thalia.

“How monstrous pretty!” cried Tabitha.  “I’m sure he meant it rightly.”

“I thought ’t was a beautiful valentine,” sighed Janice,—­ “and ’t was the first I ever had—­but dadda says she was an ill-shaped mare—­and mommy says ’t was something with a tail—­and ’t is almost as bad to have her a wicked woman—­ so I’m feared he meant it in joke—­or worse—­”

“I don’t believe it,” comforted Tibbie.  “He may have made a mistake in the name, but I’m sure he meant it; that he—­well—­thee knows.  And if thee copies it fair, and puts in ‘Delia,’ or ‘Celia,’ ’t will do to show to the girls.  I wish some one would send me such a valentine.”

Made cheerful by her friend’s point of view, Janice went on with more spirit,—­

“Nor is that the end.”  She took from her trunk a handkerchief and unwrapping it, produced the unset miniature.  “He let me keep it,” she said.

“How mighty wonderful!” again exclaimed Tibbie, growing big-eyed.  “Who—­”

“Furthermore, and in continuation, as Mr. McClave always says after his ninthly,” airily interrupted Janice, drawing from her bosom the portrait of herself.  “Who ’s that, Tibbie Drinker?”

“Janice!” cried the person so challenged.  “How lovely!  Who—­Did Mr. Peale come to Greenwood?”

“Not he.  Who, think you, did it?”

“I vow if I can guess.”

“Charles!

“No!” gasped Tibbie, properly electrified.  “Thee is cozening me.”

“Not for a moment,” cried Janice, delightedly.

“Tell me everything about all” was Tabitha’s rapturous demand.

It took Janice many minutes, and Tibbie was called upon to use many exclamation and question marks, ere the tale of all these surprises was completed.  Long before it had come to a finish, the two girls were snuggled together in bed, half in real love, as well as for the mutual animal heat, and half that they might whisper the lower.  The facts, after many interruptions and digressions, having been narrated, Janice asked,—­

“Whom, think you, Charles loves, Tibbie?”

“’T is very strange!  From his valentine and miniature I should think ’t was thee.  But from what he told thee—­”