If it weren't for making you vain, I would ask you whether your handsome eyes could be mistaken for the eyes of one of your negroes.

But I want you to go with me to that bower down there." "Not to-night, dearest," said he.

"I will go with you to-morrow." "Now is just the time," persisted she.

"Bowers never look so pretty as by moonlight.

I don't think you are very gallant to your bride to refuse her such a little favor." Thus urged, he yielded, though reluctantly, to her whim.