"Do you like acrostics?" she said, peeping up through her long
eyelashes at the old general.
"Oh, don't tease Uncle James," hastily interposed Sydney, as yet
inexperienced in the difference between the importunities of a merely
nice-looking niece, and the blandishments of a brilliant stranger.
Sir James said kindly—-
"What, my dear?"
And when Elvira replied—-
"Do help us to guess this. What does man love most below?" he put on
a droll face, and answered—-
"His pipe."
"O Uncle James, that's too bad," cried Sydney.
"If Jock had made this acrostic, it might be pipe," said Babie; "but
this is Armine's."
It was thereupon handed to the elders, who read, in a boyish hand-
writing—-
Twins, parted from their rocky nest,
We run our wondrous race,
And now in tumult, now at rest,
Flash back heaven's radiant face.
1. While both alike _this_ name we bear,
And both like life we flow,
2. And near us nestle sweet and fair
What man most loves below.
Alike it is our boasted claim
To nurse the precious juice
3. That maddened erst the Theban dame,
With streaming tresses loose.
4. The evening land is sought by one,
One rushes towards midday,
One to a vigil song has run,
One heard Red Freedom's lay.
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