Etext of His Pa's Romance by James Whitcomb Riley Hi's Pa's Romance by James Whitcomb Riley With Illustrations by Will Vawter and a Portrait by John Cecil Clay IndianapolisThe Bobbs-Merrill Company Publishers COPYRIGHT, 1903 JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY NOVEMBER PRESS OF BRAUNWORTH & CO. BOOKBINDERS AND PRINTERS BROOKLYN, N.Y. His Pa's Romance TO-- EDGAR WILSON NYE SUCH silence--after such glad merriment! O prince of halest humor, wit and cheer; Could you speak yet to us, I doubt not we Should catch your voice, still blithely eloquent Above all murmurings of sorrow here, Calling your love back to us laughingly. Contents ALMOST BEYOND ENDURANCE AN IDYLL OF THE KING AN OLD FRIEND AT NENETY IN THE SHADE BILLY MILLER'S CIRCUS-SHOW BRAVE REFRAIN, A CHAIRLEY BURKE EDGAR WILSON NYE FALL CRICK VIEW OF THE EARTHQUAKE, A FIRE AT NIGHT GOOD-BYE ER HOWDY-DO "GO READ YOUR BOOK" HER BEAUTIFUL HANDS HINT OF SPRING, A HIS PA'S ROMANCE HIS ROOM IN STATE LAW OF THE PERVERSE, THE LISPER, THE LOCAL POLITICIAN FROM AWAY BACK, A LOCKERBIE FAIR ME AND MARY MR. SILBERBERG MUTE SINGER, THE MY BACHELOR CHUM NEVER TALK BACK NOON INTERVAL, A OLD GRANNY DUSK OLD HEC'S IDOLATRY OLD MAN OF THE SEA, THE OUR BETSY PATHS OF PEACE, THE PROSE OR VERSE SIMPLE RECIPE, A SOME CHRISTMAS YOUNGSTERS THE STRENGTH OF THE WEAK THE LITTLE QUESTIONER PARENTAL CHRISTMAS PRESENTS SONGS OF A LIFE-TIME SPIRITS AT HOME THE BEST IS GOOD ENOUGH TINKLE OF BELLS, A TOIL TOY-BALLOON, THE TRIBUTE OF HIS HOME, THE TWILIGHT STORIES UNLESS WHEN UNCLE DOC WAS YOUNG YOUNG OLD MAN, THE His Pa's Romance HIS PA'S ROMANCE ALL 'at I ever want to be Is ist to be a man like Pa When he wuz young an' married Ma! Uncle he telled us yisterdy Ist all about it then --'cause they, My Pa an' Ma, wuz bofe away To 'tend P'tracted Meetin', where My Pa an' Ma is allus there When all the big "Revivals" is, An' "Love-Feasts," too, an' "Class," an' "Prayer," An' when's "Comoonian Servicis." An', yes, an' Uncle said to not To never tell them nor let on Like we knowed now ist how they got First married. So--while they wuz gone -- Uncle he telled us ever'thing -- 'Bout how my Pa wuz ist a pore Farm-boy. --He says, I tell you what, Your Pa wuz pore! But neighbors they All liked him --all but one old man An' his old wife that folks all say Nobody liked, ner never can! Yes, sir! an' Uncle purt'-nigh swore About the mean old man an' way He treat' my Pa! --'cause he's a pore Farm-hand --but prouder 'an a king' -- An' ist work' on, he did, an' wore His old patched clo'es, ist anyway, So he saved up his wages --then He ist worked on an' saved some more, An' ist worked on, ist night an' day -- Till, sir, he save' up nine or ten Er hunnerd dollars! But he keep All still about it, Uncle say -- But he ist thinks --an' thinks a heap! Though what he wuz a-thinkin', Pa He never tell' a soul but Ma -- (Then, course, you know, he wuzn't Pa, An', course, you know, she wuzn't Ma-- They wuz ist sweethearts, course you know); 'Cause Ma wuz ist a girl, about Sixteen; an' when my Pa he go A-courtin' her, her Pa an' Ma-- The very first they find it out -- Wuz maddest folks you ever saw! 'Cause it wuz her old Ma an' Pa 'At hate' my Pa, an' toss their head, An' ist raise Ned! An' her Pa said He'd ruther see his daughter dead! An' said she's ist a child! --an' so Wuz Pa! --An' ef he wuz man-grown An' only man on earth below, His daughter shouldn't marry him Ef he's a king an' on his throne! Pa's chances then looked mighty slim Fer certain, Uncle said. But he -- He never told a soul but her What he wuz keepin' quiet fer. Her folks ist lived a mile from where He lived at --an' they drove past there To git to town. An' ever' one An' all the neighbors they liked her An' showed it! But her folks --no, sir! -- Nobody liked her parents none! An' so when they shet down, you know, On Pa --an' old man tell' him so -- Pa ist went back to work, an' she Ist waited. An', sir! purty soon Her folks they thought he's turned his eye Some other way --'cause by-an'-by They heerd he'd rented the old place He worked on. An' one afternoon A neighbor, that had bust' a trace, He tell' the old man they wuz signs Around the old place that the young Man wuz a-fixin' up the old Log cabin some, an' he had brung New furnichur from town; an' told How th' old house'uz whitewashed clean An' sweet--wiv mornin'-glory vines An' hollyhawks all 'round the door An' winders --an' a bran'-new floor In th' old porch --an' wite-new green An'-red pump in the old sweep-well! An', Uncle said, when he hear tell O' all them things, the old man he Ist grin' an' says, he "reckon' now Some gal, er widder anyhow, That silly boy he's coaxed at last To marry him!" he says, says-ee, "An' ef he has,'so mote it be'!" Then went back to the house to tell His wife the news, as he went past The smokehouse, an' then went on in The kitchen, where his daughter she Wuz washin', to tell her, an' grin An' try to worry her a spell! The mean old thing! But Uncle said She ain't cry much--ist pull her old Sunbonnet forrerds on her head-- So's old man he can't see her face At all! An' when he s'pose he scold' An' jaw enough, he ist clear' out An' think he's boss of all the place! Then Uncle say, the first you know They's go' to be a Circus-show In town; an' old man think he'll take His wife an' go. An' when she say To take their daughter, too, she shake Her head like she don't want to go; An' when he sees she wants to stay, The old man takes her, anyway! An' so she went! But Uncle he Said she looked mighty sweet that day, Though she wuz pale as she could be, A-speshully a-drivin' by Wite where her beau lived at, you know; But out the corner of his eye The old man watch' her; but she throw He pairsol 'round so she can't see The house at all! An' then she hear Her Pa an' Ma a-talkin' low An' kindo' laughin'-like; but she Ist set there in the seat behind, P'tendin' like she didn't mind. An', Uncle say, when they got past The young man's place, an' 'pearantly He wuzn't home, but off an' gone To town, the old man turned at last An' talked back to his daughter there, All pleasant-like, from then clean on Till they got into town, an' where The Circus wuz, an' on inside O' that, an' through the crowd, on to The very top seat in the tent Wite next the band --a-bangin' through A tune 'at bust his yeers in two! An' there the old man scrouged an' tried To make his wife set down, an' she A-yellin'! But ist what she meant He couldn't hear, ner couldn't see Till she turned 'round an' pinted. Then He turned an' looked--an' looked again!.. He ist saw neighbors ever'where-- But, sir, his daughter wuzn't there! An', Uncle says, he even saw Her beau, you know, he hated so; An' he wuz with some other girl. An' then he heerd the Clown "Haw-haw!" An' saw the horses wheel an' whirl Around the ring, an' heerd the zipp O' the Ringmaster's long slim whip-- But that whole Circus, Uncle said, Wuz all inside the old man's head! An' Uncle said, he didn't find His daughter all that afternoon -- An' her Ma says she'll lose her mind Ef they don't find her purty soon! But, though they looked all day, an' stayed There fer the night p'formance --not No use at all! --they never laid Their eyes on her. An' then they got Their team out, an' the old man shook His fist at all the town, an' then Shook it up at the moon ag'in, An' said his time'ud come, some day! An' jerked the lines an' driv away. Uncle, he said, he 'spect, that night, The old man's madder yet when they Drive past the young man's place, an' hear A fiddle there, an' see a light Inside, an' shadders light an' gay A-dancin' 'crost the winder-blinds. An' some young chaps outside yelled, "Say! What'pears to be the hurry --hey?" But the old man ist whipped the lines An' streaked past like a runaway! An' now you'll be su'prised, I bet!-- I hardly ain't quit laughin' yet When Uncle say, that jamboree An' dance an' all--w'y, that's a sign That any old man ort to see, As plain as 8 and 1 makes 9, That they's a weddin' wite inside That very house he's whippin' so To git apast --an', sir! the bride There's his own daughter! Yes, an' oh! She's my Ma now --an' young man she Got married, he's my Pa! Whoop-ee! But Uncle say to not laugh all The laughin' yet, but please save some To kindo' spice up what's to come! Then Uncle say, about next day The neighbers they begin to call An' wish'era well, an' say how glad An' proud an' tickled ever' way Their friends all is--an' how they had The lovin' prayers of ever' one That had homes of their own! But none Said nothin' 'bout the home that she Had run away from! So she sighed Sometimes--an' wunst she purt'-nigh cried. Well, Uncle say, her old Pa, he Ist like to died, he wuz so mad! An' her Ma, too! But by-an'-by They cool down some. An','bout a week, She want to see her Ma so bad, She think she'll haf to go! An' so She coax him; an' he kiss her cheek An' say, Lord bless her, course they'll go! An', Uncle say, when they're bofe come A-knockin' there at her old home -- W'y, first he know, the door it flew. Open, all quick, an' she's jerked in, An', quicker still, the door's banged to An' locked: an' crosst the winder-sill, The old man pokes a shotgun through An' says to git! "You stold my child," He says; "an', now she's back, w'y you Clear out, this minute, er I'll kill You! Yes, an' I 'ull kill her, too, Ef you don't go!" An' then, all wild, His young wife begs him please to go! An' so he turn' an' walk' --all slow An' pale as death, but awful still An' ca'm--back to the gate, an' on Into the road, where he had gone So many times alone, you know! An', Uncle say, a whipperwill Holler so lonesome, as he go On back to'rds home, he say he 'spec' He ist 'ud like to wring its neck! An' I ain't think he's goin' back All by hisse'f --but Uncle say That's what he does, an' it's a fac'! An' 'pears-like he's gone back to stay -- 'Cause there he stick', ist thataway, An' don't go nowheres any more, Ner don't nobody ever see Him set his foot outside the door -- Till 'bout five days, a boy loped down The road, a-comin' past from town, An' he called to him from the gate, An' sent the old man word: He's thought Things over now; an', while he hate To lose his wife, he think she ought To mind her Pa an' Ma an' do Whatever they advise her to. An' sends word, too, to come an' git Her new things an' the furnichur That he had special' bought fer her -- 'Cause, now that they wuz goin' to quit, She's free to ist have' all of it; -- So, fer his love fer her, he say To come an' git it, wite away. An' spang! that very afternoon, Here come her Ma --ist 'bout as soon As old man could hitch up an' tell Her "hurry back!" An' 'bout as quick As she's drove there to where my Pa -- I mean to where her son-in-law -- Lives at, he meets her at the door All smilin', though he's awful pale An' trimbly--like he's ist been sick; He take her in the house --an', 'fore She knows it, they's a cellar-door Shet on her, an' she hears the click Of a' old rusty padlock! Then, Uncle, he say, she kindo' stands An' thinks --an' thinks --an' thinks ag'in -- An' maybe thinks of her own child Locked up --like her! An' Uncle smiled, An' I ist laughed an' clapped my hands! An' there she stayed! An' she can cry Ist all she want! an' yell an' kick To ist her heart's content! an' try To pry out wiv a quiltin'-stick! But Uncle say he guess at last She 'bout give up, an' holler' through The door-crack fer to please to be So kind an' good as send an' tell The old man, like she want him to, To come, 'fore night, an' set her free, Er--they wuz rats down there! An' yell She did, till, Uncle say, it saured The morning's milk in the back yard! But all the answer reached her, where She's skeerd so in the dark down there, Wuz ist a mutterin' that she heard -- "I've sent him word!--I've sent him word!" An' shore enough, as Uncle say, He has "sent word!" Well, it's plum night An' all the house is shet up tight-- Only one winder'bout half-way Raised up, you know; an' ain't no light Inside the whole house, Uncle say. Then, first you know, there where the team Stands hitched yet, there the old man stands -- A' old tin lantern in his hands An' monkey-wrench; an' he don't seem To make things out, a-standin' there. He comes on to, the gate an' feels An' fumbles fer the latchethen hears A voice that chills him to the heels -- "You halt! an' stand right where you air!" Then, sir! my --my --his son-in-law, There at the winder wiv his gun, He tell the old man what he's done: "You hold my wife a prisoner -- An' your wife, drat ye! I've got her! An' now, sir," Uncle say he say, "You ist turn round an' climb wite in That wagon, an' drive home ag'in An' bring my wife back wite away, An' we'll trade then --an' not before Will I unlock my cellar-door-- Not fer your wife's sake net your own, But my wife's sake --an' her's alone!" An', Uncle say, it don't sound like It's so, but yet it is! --He say, From wite then, somepin' seem' to strike The old man's funny-bone some way; An', minute more, that team o' his Went tearin' down the road k'whiz! An' in the same two-forty style Come whizzin' back! An' oh, that-air Sweet girl a-cryin' all the while, Thinkin' about her Ma there, shet In her own daughter's cellar, where Ist week or so she's kep' house there, She hadn't time to clean it yet! So when her Pa an' her they git There --an' the young man grab' an' kiss An' hug her, till she make him quit An' ask him where her mother is. An' then he smile' an' try to not; Then slow-like find th' old padlock key, An' blow a' oat-hull out of it, An' then stoop down there where he's got Her Ma locked up so keerfully-- An' where, wite there, he say he thought It ort to been the old man --though Uncle, he say, he reckon notr-- When out she bounced, all tickled so To taste fresh air ag'in an' find Her folks wunst more, an' grab' her child An' cry an' laugh, an' even go An' hug the old man; an' he wind Her in his arms, an' laugh, an' pat Her back, an' say he's riconciled, In such a happy scene as that, To swop his daughter for her Ma, An' have so, smart a son-in-law As they had! "Yes, an' he's my Pa!" I laugh' an' yell', "Hooray-hooraw!" TWILIGHT STORIES NEITHER daylight, starlight, moonlight, But a sad-sweet term of some light By the saintly name of Twilight. The Grandma Twilight Stories! --Still, A childish listener, I hear The katydid and whippoorwill, In deepening atmosphere Of velvet dusk, blent with the low Soft music of the voice that sings And tells me tales of long ago And old enchanted things..... While far fails the last dim daylight, And the fireflies in the Twilight Drift about like flakes of starlight. ALMOST BEYOND ENDURANCE I AIN'T a-goin' to cry no more, no more! I'm got ear-ache, an' Ma can't make It quit a-tall; An' Carlo bite my rubber-ball An' puncture it; an' Sis she take An' poke' my knife down through the stable-floor An' loozed it--blame it all! But I ain't goin' to cry no more, no more! An' Aunt Mame wrote she's comin', an' she can't -- Folks is come there! --An' I don't care She is my Aunt! An' my eyes stings; an' I'm Ist coughin' all the time, An' hurts me so, an' where my side's so sore Grampa felt where, an' he Says "Mayby it's pleurasy!" But I ain't goin' to cry no more, no more! An' I clumbed up an' nen falled off the fence, An' Herbert he ist laugh at me! An' my fi'-cents It sticked in my tin bank, an' I ist tore Purt'-nigh my thumbnail off, a-tryin' to git It out --nen smash it! --An' it's in there yit! But I ain't goin' to cry no more, no more! Oo! I'm so wickud! --An' my breath's so hot-- Ist like I run an' don't res' none But ist run on when I ought to not; Yes, an' my chin An' lips's all warpy, an' teeth's so fast, An' 's a place in my throat I can't swaller past -- An' they all hurt so! -- An' oh, my-oh! I'm a-startin' ag'in -- I'm a-startin' ag'in, but I won't, fer shore! -- I ist ain't goin' to cry no more, no more! A SIMPLE RECIPE To be a wholly worthy man, As you, my boy, would like to be, -- This is to show you how you can -- This simple recipe:-- Be honest --both in word and act, Be strictly truthful through and through' Fact cannot fail. --You stick to fact, And fact will! stick to you. Be clean -- outside and in, and sweep Both hearth and heart and hold them bright; Wear snowy linen--aye, and keep Your conscience snowy-white. Do right, your utmost --good must come To you who do your level best -- Your very'hopes will! help you some, And work will! do the rest. THE LISPER ELSIE MINGUS lisps, she does! She lives wire acrosst from us In Miz. Ayers'uz house'at she Rents part to the Mingusuz.-- Yes, an' Elsie plays wiv me. Elsie lisps so, she can't say Her own name ist anyway! -- She says "Elthy" --like they wuz Feathers on her words, an' they Ist stick on her tongue like fuzz. My! she's purty, though! --An' when She lisps, w'y, she's purty nen! When she telled me, wunst, her doll Wuz so "thweet," an' I p'ten' I lisp too, --she laugh' --'at's all! -- She don't never git mad none -- 'Cause she know I'm ist in fun. -- Elsie she ain't one bit sp'iled. -- Of all childerns --ever' one -- She's the ladylikest child!-- My Ma say she is! One time. Elsie start to say the rhyme, "Thing a thong o' thixpenth" -- Whee! Iist yell! An' Ma say I'm Unpolite as I can be! Wunst I went wiv Ma to call On Elsie's Ma, an' eat an' all; An' hen Elsie, when we've et, An' we're playin' in the hall, Elsie say: It's etikett Fer young gentlemens, like me, Eatin' when they's company, Not to never ever crowd Down their food, her "thip their tea Ner thup thoop so awful loud!" OUR BETSY Us childern's all so lonesome, We hardly want to play Or skip or swing or anything, -- 'Cause Betsy she's away! She's gone to see her people At her old home. --But then -- Oh! every child 'll jist be wild When she's back here again! CHORUS Then it's whoopty-doopty dooden! -- Whoopty-dooden then! Oh! it's whoopty-doopty dooden, When Betsy's back again! She's like a mother to us, And like a sister, too -- Oh! she's as sweet as things to eat When all the dinner's through! And hey! to hear her laughin'! And ho! to hear her sing! -- To have her back is all we lack Of havin' everything! CHORUS Then it's whoopty-doopty dooden! -- Whoopty-dooden then! Oh! it's whoopty-doopty dooden, When Betsy's back again! Oh! some may sail the northern lakes, And some to foreign lands, And some may seek old Nameless Creek, Or India's golden salads; Or some may go to Kokomo, And some to Mackinac, -- But I'll go down to Morgantown To fetch our Betsy back. CHORUS Then it's whoopty-doopty dooden! -- Whoopty-dooden then! Oh! it's whoopty-doopty dooden, When Betsy's back again! THE TOY-BALLOON THEY wuz a Big Day wunst in town, An' little Jason's Pa Buyed him a little toy-balloon, The first he ever saw, -- An' oh but Jase wuz more'n proud, A-holdin' to the string An' scrougin' through the grea'-big crowd, To hear the Glee Club sing. The Glee Club it wuz goin' to sing In old Masonic Hall; An' Speakin', it wuz in there, too, An' soldiers, folks an' all: An' Jason's Pa he git a seat An' set down purty soon, A-holdin' little Jase, an' him A-holdin' his balloon. An' while the Speakin''s startin' up An' ever'body still-- The first you know wuz little Jase A-yellin' fit to kill!-- Nen Jason's Pa jump on his seat An' grab up in the air,-- But little Jason's toy-balloon Wuz clean away from there! An' Jase he yelled; an' Jase's Pa, Still lookin' up, clumb down-- While that-air little toy-balloon Went bumpin' roun' an' roun' Ag'inst the ceilin','way up there Where ever'body saw, An' they all yelled, an' Jason yelled, An' little Jason's Pa! But when his Pa he packed him out A-screamin' --nen the crowd Looked down an' hushed --till they looked up An' howled again out loud; An' nen the speaker, mad an' pale, Jist turned an' left the stand, An' all j'ined in the Glee Club--"Hail, Columby, Happy Land!" SOME CHRISTMAS YOUNGSTERS I THE STRENGTH OF THE WEAK LAST Chris'mus, little Benny Wuzn't sick so bad,-- Now he's had the worst spell Ever yet he had. Ever' Chris'mus-morning, though, He'll p'tend as if He's asleep--an' first you know He's got your "Chris'mus-gif'!" Pa he's good to all of us All the time; but when, Ever' time it's Chris'mus, He's as good again!-- 'Sides our toys an' candy, Ever' Chris'mus, he Gives us all a quarter, Certain as can be! Pa, this morning, tiptoe' in To make the fire, you know, Long 'fore it's daylight, An' all's ice an' snow! -- An' Benny holler, "Chris'mus-gif'!" An' Pa jump an' say, "You 'll only git a dollar if You skeer me thataway !" II THE LITTLE QUESTIONER BABE she's so always Wantin' more to hear All about Santy Claus, An' says: "Mommy dear, Where's Santy's home at When he ain't away? -- An' is they Mizzus Santy Claus An' little folks --say? -- Chris'mus, Santy's always here -- Don't they want him, too? When it ain't Chris'mus What does he do?" III PARENTAL CHRISTMAS PRESENTS PARUNTS don't git toys an' things, Like you'd think they ruther-- Mighty funny Chris'mus-gif's Parunts gives each other! -- Pa give Ma a barrel o' flour. An' Ma she give to Pa The nicest dinin'-table She know he ever saw! OLD GRANNY DUSK OLD Granny Dusk, when the sun goes down, Here she comes into thish-yer town! Out o' the wet black woods an' swamps In she traipses an' trails an' tromps-- With her old sunbonnet all floppy an' brown, An' her cluckety shoes, an' her old black gown, Here she comes into fhish-yer town! Old Granny Dusk, when the bats begin To flap around, comes a-trompin' in! An' the katydids they rasp an' whir, An' the lightnin'-bugs all blink at her; An' the old Hop-toad turns in his thumbs, An' the bunglin' June-bug booms an' bums, An' the Bullfrog croaks, "O here she comes!" Old Granny Dusk, though I'm 'feard o' you, Shore-fer-certain I'm sorry, too: 'Cause you look as lonesome an' starved an' sad As a mother'at's lost ever' child she had.-- Yet never a child in thish-yer town Clings at yet hand er yer old black gown, Er kisses the face you're a-bendin' down. THE YOUNG OLD MAN VOLUNTARY BY ARTLESS "LITTLE BROTHER" MAMMA is a widow: there's only us three -- Our pretty Mamma, little sister, and me: And we've come to live in this new neighborhood Where all seems so quiet, old-fashioned and good. Mamma sits and sews at the window, and I -- I'm out at the gate when an old man goes by -- Such a lovely old man, --though I can't tell you why, Unless it's his greeting, --"Good morning! Good morning! good morning!" the old man will say, -- "Fine bracing weather we're having to-day! -- And how's little brother And sister --and mother? -- So dear to each other! -- Good morning!" The old man goes by, in his glossy high-hat, And stripe-trousers creased, and all turned-up, at that, And his glancing nose-glasses --and pleasantest eyes, As he smiles on me, always in newer surprise: And though his mustache is as white as the snow, He wears it waxed out and all pointed, you know, And gloves, and high collar and bright, jaunty bow, And stylish umbrella. --"Good morning! Good morning! good morning!" the old man will say, -- "Fine falling weather we're promised to-day!-- And how's little brother -- And sister --and mother? -- So fond of each other! -- Good morning!" It's Christmas! --it's Christmas! and oh, but we're gay! The postman's been here, and Ma says, "Run and play:-- You must leave your Mamma to herself for a while!" And so sweet is her voice, and so tender her smile!-- And she looks so pretty and happy and--Well! -- She's just too delicious for language to tell! -- So Sis hugs her more --and I answer the bell, And there in the doorway --"Good morning! -- Good morning! good morning! good morning, I say!-- Fine Christmas weather we're having to-day!-- And how's little brother-- Dear sisters--er, ruther-- Why, here is your mother.... Good morning!" WHEN UNCLE DOC WAS YOUNG THOUGH Doctor Glenn --the best of men -- Is wrinkled, old, and gray, He 'll always smile and stop awhile Where little children play: And often then he tells us, when He was a youngster, too, He was as glad and bad a lad As old folks ever knew! As he walks down, no boy in town But sees him half a block, And stops to shout a welcome out With "Here comes Uncle Doc!" Then all the rest, they look their best As he lines up among Us boys of ten --each thinking then When Uncle Doc was young. We run to him!--Though grave and grim, With voice pitched high and thin, He still reveals the joy he feels In all that he has been: With heart too true, and honest, too, To ever hide a truth, He frankly owns, in laughing tones, He was "a sorry youth!" -- When he was young, he says, he sung And howled his level-best; He says he guyed, and sneaked, and lied, And wrecked the robin's nest. And this, and worse, will he rehearse, Then smooth his snowy locks And look the saint he says he ain't. Them eyes of Uncle Doc's! He says, when he --like you and me -- Was just too low and mean To slap asleep, he used to weep To find his face was clean: His hair, he said, was just too red To tell with mortal tongue -- "The Burning Shame" was his nickname When Uncle Doc was young. BILLY MILLER'S CIRCUS-SHOW At Billy Miller's Circus-Show -- In their old stable where it's at-- The boys pays twenty pins to go, An' gits their money's-worth at that! -- 'Cause Billy he can climb and chalk His stockin'-feet an' purt'-nigh walk A tight-rope --yes, an' ef he fall He'll ketch, an' "skin a cat" --'at's all! He ain't afeard to swing and hang Ist by his legs! --an' mayby stop An' yell "Look out!" an' nen--k-spang! He'll let loose, upside-down, an' drop Wite on his hands! An' hen he'll do "Contortion-acts" --ist limber through As "Injarubber Mens" 'at goes With shore-let-certain circus-shows! At Billy Miller's Circus-Show He's got a circus-ring --an' they's A dressin'-room, --so's he can go An' dress an' paint up when he plays He's somepin' else; --'cause sometimes he's "Ringmaster" --bossin' like he please -- An' sometimes "Ephalunt" --er "Bare Back Rider," prancin' out o' there! An' sometimes --an' the best of all!-- He's "The Old Clown," an' got on clo'es All stripud, --an' white hat, all tall An' peakud --like in shore-'nuff shows, An' got three-cornered red-marks, too, On his white cheeks --ist like they do!-- An' you'd ist die, the way he sings An' dances an' says funny things! THE LAW OF THE PERVERSE WHERE did the custom come from, anyway?-- Sending the boys to "play," at dinner-time, When we have company? What is there, pray, About the starched, unmalleable guest That, in the host's most genial interest, Finds him first favor on Thanksgiving Day Beside the steaming turkey, with its wings Akimbo over all the savory things It has been stuffed with, yet may never thus Make one poor boy's face glad and glorious! Fancy the exiled boy in the back-yard, Ahungered so that any kind of grub Were welcome, yet with face set stern and hard, Hearing the feasters' laugh and mild hubbub, And wanting to kill something with a club! -- Intuitively arguing the unjust Distinction, as he naturally must,-- The guest with all the opportunity,-- The boy with all the appetite! Ah, me! So is it that when I, a luckless guest, Am thus arraigned at banquet, I sit grim And sullen, eating nothing with a zest, With smirking features, yet a soul distressed, Missing the banished boy and envying him -- Aye, longing for a spatter on my vest From his deflecting spoon, and yearning for The wild swoop of his lips insatiate, or His ever-ravenous, marauding eye Fore-eating everything from soup to pie! CHAIRLEY BURKE IT'S Chairley Burke's in town, b'ys! He's down til "Jamesy's Place," Wid a bran'-new shave upon'urn, an' the fhwhuskers aff his face; He's quit the Section Gang last night, an' yez can chalk it down There's goin' to be the divil's toime, sence Chairley Burke's in town. It's treatin' iv'ry b'y he is, an' poundin' on the bar Till iv'ry man he's drinkin' wid must shmoke a foine cigar; An' Missus Murphy's little Kate, that's comin' there for beer, Can't pay wan cint the bucketful, the whilst that Chairley's here! He's joompin' oor the tops o' sthools, the both forninst an' back! He'll lave yez pick the blessed flure, an' walk the straightest crack! He's liftin' barrels wid his teeth, and singin' "Garry Owen" Till all the house be strikin' hands, sence Chairley Burke's in town. The Road-Yaird hands comes dhroppin' in, an' never goin' back; An' there's two freights upon the switch --the wan on aither track -- An' Mr. Gearry, from The Shops, he's mad enough to swear, An' durst n't spake a word but grin, the whilst that Chairley's there! Och! Chairley! --Chairley! --Chairley Burke! ye divil, wid yer ways O' dhrivin' all the troubles aft, these dark an' gloomy days! Ohone! that it's roeself, wid all the griefs I have to dhrown, Must lave me pick to resht a bit, sence Chairley Burke's in town! SONG --THE OLD MAN OF THE SEA I'm The Old Man of the Sea --I am! -- And this is my secret pride, That I have a hundred shapes, all sham, And a hundred names besides: They have named me "Habit," and "Way," forsooth, "Capricious," and "Fancy-free"; -- But to you, O Youth, I confess the truth, -- I'm The Old Man of the Sea. I'm The Old Man of the Sea, yo-ho! So lift up a song with me, As I sit on the throne of your shoulders, alone, I'm The Old Man of the Sea. Crowned with the crown of your noblest thought, I'm The Old Man of the Sea: I reign, rule, ruin, and palter not In my pitiless tyranny: You, my lad, are my gay Sinbad, Frisking about, with me High on the perch I have always had-- I'm The Old Man of the Sea. I'm The Old Man of the Sea, yo-ho! So lift up a song with me, As I sit on the throne of your shoulders, alone, I'm The Old Man of the Sea. Tricked in the guise of your best intent, I am your failures --all -- I am the victories you invent, And your high resolves that fall: I am the vow you are breaking now As the wassail-bowl swings free And the red guilt flushes your cheek and brow -- I'm The Old Man of the Sea. I'm The Old Man of the Sea, yo-ho! So lift up a song with me, As I sit on the throne of your shoulders, alone, I'm The Old Man of the Sea. I am your false dreams of success And your mythical future fame-- Your life-long lies, and your soul's distress And your slowly-dying shame: I'm the clattering half of your latest laugh, And your tongue's last perfidy -- Your doom, your tomb, and your epitaph... I'm The Old Man of the Sea. I'm The Old Man of the Sea, yo-ho! So lift up a song with me, As I sit on the throne of your shoulders, alone, I'm The Old Man of the Sea. AT NINETY IN THE SHADE HOT weather? Yes; but really not, Compared with weather twice as hot. Find comfort, then, in arguing thus, And you'll pull through victorious!-- For instance, while you gasp and pant And try to cool yourself --and can't -- With soda, cream and lemonade, The heat at ninety in the shade,-- Just calmly sit and ponder o'er These same degrees, with ninety more On top of them, and so concede The weather now is cool indeed! Think --as the perspiration dews Your fevered brow, and seems to ooze From out the ends of every hair -- Whole floods of it, with floods to spare-- Think, I repeat, the while the sweat Pours down your spine--how hotter yet Just ninety more degrees would be, And bear this ninety patiently! Think--as you mop your brow and hair, With sticky feelings everywhere-- How ninety more degrees increase Of heat like this would start the grease; Or, think, as you exhausted stand, A wilted "palmleaf" in each hand -- When the thermometer has done With ease the lap of ninety-one; O think, I say, what heat might do At one hundred and eighty-two -- Just twice the heat you now declare, Complainingly, is hard to bear. Or, as you watch the mercury Mount, still elate, one more degree, And doff your collar and cravat, And rig a sponge up in your hat, And ask Tom, Harry, Dick and Jim If this is hot enough for him -- Consider how the sun would pour At one hundred and eighty-four -- Just twice the heat that seems to be Affecting you unpleasantly, The very hour that you might find As cool as dew, were you inclined. But why proceed when none will heed Advice apportioned to the need? Hot weather? Yes; but really not, Compared with weather twice as hot! GOOD-BYE ER HOWDY-DO Say good-bye er howdy-do-- What's the odds betwixt the two? Comin'--goin' --every day -- Best friends first to go away -- Grasp of hands you'd ruther hold Than their weight in solid gold, Slips their grip while greetin' you.-- Say good-bye er howdy-do? Howdy-do, and then, good-bye-- Mixes jist like laugh and cry; Deaths and births, and worst and best, Tangled their contrariest; Ev'ry jinglin' weddin'-bell Skeerin' up some funer'l knell. -- Here's my song, and there's your sigh.-- Howdy-do, and then, good-bye! Say good-bye er' howdy-do -- Jist the same to me and you; 'Taint worth while to make no fuss, 'Cause tim job's put up on us! Some One's runnin' this concern That's got nothin' else to learn:, If He's willin', we'll pull through -- Say good-bye er howdy-do! A LOCAL POLITICIAN FROM AWAY BACK JEDGE is good at argyin' -- No mistake in that! Most folks'at tackles him He'll skin'em like a cat! You see, the Jedge is read up, And ben in politics, Hand-in-glove, you might say, Sense back in '56. Elected to the Shurrif, first, Then elected Clerk; Went into lawin' then, And buckled down to work; Practiced three or four terms, Then he run for jedge -- Speechified a little'round, And went in like a wedge! Run fer Legislatur' twic't -- Made her, ever' pop! Keeps on the way he's doin', Don't know where he'll stop! Some thinks he's got his eye On the govnership; Well, ef he tuk the track, Guess he'd make the trip! But I started out to tell you -- (Now I allus liked the man -- Not fer his politics, But social', understan'! -- Fer,'s regards to my views, Political and sich, -- When we come together there We're purty ap' to hitch.) Ketched him in at Knox's shop On'y t'other day -- Gittin' shaved, the Jedge was, Er somepin' thataway. -- Well, I tetched him up some On the silver bill: -- Jedge says, "I won't discuss it;" I says, "You will!", I-says-ee, "I reckon You'll concede with me, Coin's the on'y ginuine Money," I-says-ee; Says I, "What's a dollar-bill?" Says I, "What's a ten -- Er forty-leven hunderd of'em? -- Give us specie, then!" I seed I was a gittin' The Jedge kindo' red Around the gills. He hawked some And cle'red his throat and said! -- "Facts is too complicated 'Bout the bill in view," Squirmed and told the barber then He wisht he'd hurry through. 'Ll, then, I knowed I had him, -- And the crowd around the fire Was all a-winkin' at me, As the barber raised him higher -- Says I, "Jedge, what's a dollar? -- Era half-un," I-says-ee -- "What's a quarter? --What's a dime? "What's cents?" says he. W'y I had hiln fairly b'ilin'! "You needn't comb my hair," He says to the barber -- "I want fresh air;" And you'd a-died a-laughin' To a-seed him grab his hat, As I-says-ee, says I, "Jedge, Where you goin' at!" Jedge is good at argyin' By-and-large; and yit Beat him at his own game And he's goin' to git! And yit the Jedge is read up, And ben in politics, Hand-in-glove, you might say, Sence back in '56. NEVER TALK BACK NEVER talk back! sich things is repperhensible; A feller only hurts hisse'f that jaws a man that's hot; In a quarrel, ef you'll only keep your mouth shet and act sensible, The man that does the talkin' 'll git worsted every shot! Never talk back to a feller that's abusin' you -- Jest let him carry on, and rip, and snort, and swear; And when he finds his blamin' and defamin''s jest amusin' you, You've got him clean kaftummixed, --and you want to hold him there! Never talk back, and wake up the whole community And call a man a liar, over Law, er Politics.-- You can lift and land him furder and with gracefuller impunity With one good jolt of silence than half a dozen kicks! "A BRAVE REFRAIN" WHEN snow is here, and the trees look weird, And the knuckled twigs are gloved with frost; When the breath congeals in the drover's beard, And the old pathway to the barn is lost; When the rooster's crow is sad to hear, And the stamp of the stabled horse is vain, And the tone of the cow-bell grieves the ear -- O then is the time for a brave refrain! When the gears hang stiff on the harness-peg, And the tallow gleams in frozen streaks; And the old hen stands on a lonesome leg, And the pump sounds hoarse and the handle squeaks; When the woodpile lies in a shrouded heap, And the frost is scratched from the window pane, And anxious eyes from the inside peep -- O then is the time for a brave refrain! When the ax-helve warms at the chimney-jamb! And hobmailed shoes on tim hearth below, And the house-cat curls in a slumber calm, And the eight-day clock ticks loud and slow; When the harsh broom-handle jabs the ceil 'Neath the kitchen-loft, and the drowsy brain Sniffs the breath of the morning meal -- O then is the time for a brave refrain! ENVOI. When the skillet seethes, and a-blubbering hot Tilts the lid of the coffee-pot, And the scent of the buckwheat cake grows plain -- O then is the time for a brave refrain! ME AND MARY ALL my feelin's in the Spring Gits so blame contrary, I can't think of anything. Only me and Mary! "Me and Mary!" all the time, "Me and Mary!" like a rhyme, Keeps a-dingin' on till I'm Sick o' "Me and Mary!" "Me and Mary! Ef us two Only was together -- Playin' like we used to do In the Aprile weather!" All the night and all the day I keep wishin' thataway Till I'm gittin' old and gray Jes on "Me and Mary!" Muddy yit along the pike Sence the Winter's freezin', And the orchard's back'ard-like Bloomin' out this season; Only heerd one bluebird yit -- Nary robin her tomtit; What's the how and why of it? 'Spect it's "Me and Mary!" Me and Mary liked the birds -- That is, Mary sorto' Liked'em first, and afterwards, W'y, I thought I'd ort'o. And them bird --ef Mary stood Right here with me, like she should -- They'd be singin', them birds would, All fer me and Mary. Birds er not, I'm hopin' some I can git to plowin'! Ef the sun'll only come, And the Lord allowin', Guess to-morry I'll turn in And git down to work ag'in; This here loaferin' won't win, Not fer me and Mary! Fer a man that loves like me, And's afeard to name it, Till some other feller, he Gits the girl --dad-shame-it! Wet er dry, er clouds er sun -- Winter gone erjes begun -- Outdoor work fer me er none, No more "Me and Mary!" FIRE AT NIGHT FIRE! Fire! Ring! and ring! Hear the old bell bang and ding! Fire! Fire!'way at night, -- Can't you hear? --I think you might! -- Can't you hear them-air clangin' bells? -- W'y, I can't hear nothin' else! Fire! Ain't you'wake at last! -- Hear them horses poundin' past Hear that ladder-wagon grind Round the corner! --and, behind, Hear the hose-cart, turnin' short, And the horses slip and snort, As the engine's clank-and-jar Jolts the whole street, near and far. Fire! Fire! Fire! Fire! Can't you hist that winder higher? La! they've all got past like "scat!" Night's as black as my old hat -- And it's rainin', too, at that!... Wonder where their old fire's at! A FALL CRICK VIEW OF THE EARTHQUAKE I kin hump my back and take the rain, And I don't keer how she pours; I kin keep kindo' ca'm in a thunder-storm, No matter how loud she roars; I hain't much skeered o' the lightnin' Ner I hain't sich awful shakes Afeard o' cyclones --but I don't want none O' yer dad-burned old earthquakes! As long as my legs keeps stiddy, And long as my head keeps plum', And the buildin' stays in the front lot, I still kin whistle, some! But about the time the old clock Flops off'n the mantel-shelf, And the bureau skoots fer the kitchen, I'm a-goin' to skoot, myself! Plague-take! ef you keep me stabled While any earthquakes is around-- I'm jist like the stock,--I'll beller And break fer the open ground! And I 'low you'd be as nervous, And in j ist about my fix, When yer whole farm slides from inunder you, And on'y the mor'gage sticks! Now cars hain't a-goin' to kill you Ef you don't drive'crost the track; Crediters never'll jerk you up Ef you go and pay'em back; You kin stand all moral and mundane storms Ef you'll on'y jist behave-- But a' EARTHQUAKE: --well, ef it wanted you It 'ud husk you out o' yer grave! MR. SILBERBERG AND LITTLE JULIUS I LIKE me yet dot leedle chile Vich climb my lap up in to-day, Unt took my cheap cigair avay, Unt laugh and kiss me purty-whvile, -- Possescially I like dose mout' Vich taste his moder's like --unt so, Eef my cigair it gone clean out -- Yust let it go! Vat I caire den for anyding? Der "HERALDT" schlip out fort my handt Unt all my odvairtizement standt Mirout new changements boddering; I only t'ink --I have me dis Von leedle boy to pet unt love Unt play me vit, unt hug unt kiss -- Unt dot's enough! Der plans unt pairposes I year Out in der vorld all fades avay, Unt vit der beeznis of der day I got me den no time to spare; Der caires of trade vas caires no more-- Dem cash accounts dey dodge me by, Unt vit my chile I roll der floor, Unt laugh unt gry! Ach! frient! dem childens is der ones Dot got some happy times --you bet!-- Dot's vy yen I been growed up yet I visht I shrill been leedle vonce! Unt yen dot leedle roozter tries Dem baby-tricks I used to do, My mout it vater, unt my eyes Dey vater too! Unt all der summertime unt spring Of childhood it come back to me, So dot it vas a dream I see Ven I yust look at anyding! Unt yen dot leedie boy run by, I dink "Dot's me," fon hour to hour Schtill chasing yet dose butterfly Fon flower to flower! Oxpose I vas lots money vairt, Mit blenty schtone-front schtore to rent, Unt mor'gages at twelf per tcent., Unt diamonds in my ruffled shairt, -- I make a'signment of all dot, Unt tairn it over init a schmile Abet you please --but, don'd forgot, I keep dot chile! SPIRITS AT HOME THE FAMILY THERE was Father, and Mother, and Emmy, and Janeane And Lou, and Ellen, and John and me -- And father was killed in the war, and Lou She died of consumption, and John did too, And Emmy she went with the pleurisy. THE SPIRITS Father believed in'em all his life -- But Mother, at first, she'd shake her head Till after the battle of Champion Hill, When many a flag in the winder-sill Had crape mixed in with the white and red! I used to doubt'em myself till then -- But me and Mother was satisfied When Ellen she set, and Father came And rapped "God Bless You!" and Mother's name, And "The flag's up here!" And we just all cried. 'Used to come often, after that, And talk to us --just as he used to do, Pleasantest kind! And once, for John, He said he was "lonesome but wouldn't let on -- Fear mother would worry, and Emmy and Lou." But Lou was the bravest girl on earth -- For all she never was hale and strong, She'd have her fun! --With her voice clean lost She'd laugh and joke us that "when she crossed To Father, we'd all come taggin' along!" Died --just that way! And the raps was thick That night, as they often since occur, Extry loud! And when Lou got back She said it was Father and her --and "whack!" She tuck the table --and we knowed her! John and Eraroy, in five years more, Both had went.--And it seemed like fate! -- For the old home it burnt down, --but Jane And me and Ellen we built again The new house, here, on the old estate. And a happier family I don't know Of anywheres --unless it's them, -- Father, with all his love for Lou, And her there with him, and healthy, too, And laughin', with John and little Era. And, first we moved in the new house here, They all dropped in for a long pow-wow, "We like your buildin', of course," Lou said, -- "But wouldn't swop with you to save your head -- For we live in the ghost of the old house now!" A HINT OF SPRING 'TWAS but a hint of Spring --for still The atmosphere was sharp and chill, Save where the genial sunshine smote The shoulders of my overcoat, And o'er the snow beneath my feet Laid spectral fences down the street. My shadow even seemed to be Elate with some new buoyancy, And bowed and bobbed in my advance With trippingest extravagance, And, when the birds chirpt out somewhere, It seemed to wheel with me and stare. Above I heard a rasping stir -- And on the roof the carpenter Was perched, and prodding rusty leaves From out the choked and dripping eaves -- And some one, hammering about, Was taking all the windows out. Old scraps of shingles fell before The noisy mansion's open door; And wrangling children raked the yard, And labored much, and laughed as hard, And fired the burning trash I smelt And sniffed again --so good I felt! LOCKERBIE FAIR O THE LOCKERBIE FAIR! --Have you heard of its fame And its fabulous riches, too rare for a name!-- The gold of the noon of the June-time refined To the Orient-Night, till the eyes and the mind Are dazed with the sights, in the earth and the air, Of the opulent splendors of Lockerbie Fair. What more fortunate fate might to mortal befall, Midst the midsummer beauty and bloom of it all, Than to beam'with the moon o'er the rapturous scene And twink with the stars as they laughingly lean O'er the luminous revel and glamour and glare Fused in one dazzling glory at Lockerbie Fair. The Night, like a queen in her purple and lace, With her diamonded brow, and imperious grace As she leads her fair votaries, train upon train, A-dance thro' the feasts of this mystic domain To the mandolin's twang, and the warble and blare Of voice, flute and bugle at Lockerbie Fair. All strange, ever-changing, enchanted delights Found now in this newer Arabian Nights, -- Where each lovely maid is a Princess, and each Lucky swain an Aladdin --all treasures in reach Of the lamps and the rings --and with Genii to spare, Simply waiting your orders, at Lockerhie Fair. A TINKLE OF BELLS THE LIGHT of the moon on the white of the snow, And the answering twinkles along the street, And our sleigh flashing by, in the glamour and glow Of the glorious nights of the long ago, When the laugh of her lips rang clear and sweet As the tinkle our horses shook out of the bells And flung and tossed back On our glittering track In a shower of tremulous, murmuring swells Of the echoing, airy, melodious bells! -- O the mirth of the bells! And the worth of the bells! Come tinkle again, in this dearth of the bells, -- This laughter and love that I lack, yearning back, For the far-away sound of the bells! Ah! the bells, they were glad in the long ago! And the tinkles they had, they have thrilled me so I have said: "It is they and her songs and face Make summer for me in the wintriest place!" And now --but sobbings and sad farewells, As I peer in the night through the sleeted pane, Hearing a clangor and wrangle of bells, And never a tinkle again! The snow is a-swoon, and the moon dead-white, And the frost is wild in the air to-night! Yet still will I linger and listen and pray Till the sound of her voice shall come this way, With a tinkle of bells, And the lisp-like tread Of the hooves of the sleigh, And the murmurs and swells Of the vows she said. And O, I shall listen as madmen may, Till the tinkling bells ring down this way! -- Till again the grasp of my hand entwines The tensioned loops of the quivering lines, And again we ride in the wake of tim pride And the strength of the coursers, side by side; With our faces smitten again by the spray Of the froth of our streets as we gallop away In affright of the bells, And the infinite glee and delight of the bells, As they tinkle and tinkle and tinkle, till they Are heard through a dawn where the mists are drawn, And we canter a gallop and dash away Sheer into The Judgment Day! AN OLD FRIEND HEY, Old Midsummer! are you here again, With all your harvest-store of olden joys, -- Vast overhanging meadow-lands of rain, And drowsy dawns, and noons when golden grain Nods in the sun, and lazy truant boys Drift ever listlessly adown the day, Too full of joy to rest, and dreams to play. The same old Summer, with the same old smile Beaming upon us in the same old way +07 We knew in childhood! Though a weary while Since that far time, yet memories reconcile The heart with odorous breaths of clover hay; And again I hear the doves, and the sun streams through The old barn-door just as it used to do. And so it seems like welcoming' a friend -- An old, old friend, upon his coming home From some far country --coming home to spend Long, loitering days with me: And I extend My hand in rapturous glee: --And so you've come! -- Ho, I'm so glad! Come in and take a chair: Well, this is just like old times, I declare! MY BACHELOR CHUM O a corpulent man is my bachelor chum, With a neck apoplectic and thick -- An abdomen on him as big as a drum, And a fist big enough for the stick; With a walk that for grace is clear out of the case, And a wobble uncertain --as though His little bow-legs had forgotten the pace That in youth used to favor him so. He is forty, at least; and the top of his head Is a bald and a glittering thing; And his nose and his two chubby cheeks are as red As three rival roses in Spring. His mouth is a grin with the corners tucked in, And his laugh is so breezy and bright That it ripples his features and dimples his chin With a billowy look of delight. He is fond of declaring he "don't care a straw" -- That "the ills of a bachelor's life Are blisses compared with a mother-in-law, And a boarding-school miss for a wife!" So he smokes and he drinks, and he jokes and he winks, And he dines and he wines, all alone, With a thumb ever ready to snap as he thinks Of the comforts he never has known. But up in his den --(Ah, my bachelor chum!) -- I have sat with him there in the gloom, When the laugh of his lips died away to become But a phantom of mirth in the room. And to look on him there you would love him, for all His ridiculous ways, and be dumb As the little girl-face that smiles down from the wall On the tears of my bachelor chum. HER BEAUTIFUL HANDS O YOUR HANDS --they are strangely fair! Fair --for the jewels that sparkle there, -- Fair --for the witchery of the spell That ivory keys alone can tell; But when their' delicate touches rest Here in my own do I love them best, As I clasp with eager, acquisitive spans My glorious treasure of beautiful hands! Marvelous --wonderful --beautiful hands! They can coax roses to bloom in the strands Of your brown tresses;and ribbons will twine, Under mysterious touches of thine, Into such knots as entangle the soul And fetter the heart under such a control As only the strength of my love understands-- My passionate love for your beautiful hands. As I remember the first fair touch Of those beautiful hands that I love so much, I seem to thrill as I then was thrilled, Kissing the glove that I found unfilled -- When I met your gaze, and the queenly bow, As you said to me, laughingly, "Keep it now!". . . And dazed and alone in a dream I stand, Kissing this ghost of your beautiful hand. When first I loved, in the long ago, And held your hand as I told you so-- Pressed and caressed it and gave it a kiss And said "I could die for a hand like this!" Little I dreamed love's fullness yet Had to ripen when eyes were wet And prayers were vain in their wild demands For one warm touch of your beautiful hands. Beautiful Hands! --O Beautiful Hands! Could you reach out of the alien lands Where you are lingering, and give me, to-nigh Only a touch --were it ever so light -- My heart were soothed, and my weary brain Would lull itself into rest again; For there is no solace the world commands Like the caress of your beautiful hands. THE BEST IS GOOD ENOUGH I QUARREL not with Destiny, But make the best of everything -- The best is good enough for me. Leave Discontent alone, and she Will shut her mouth and let you sing. I quarrel not with Destiny. I take some things, or let'em be -- Good gold has always got the ring; The best is good enough for me. Since Fate insists on secrecy, I have no arguments to bring -- I quarrel not with Destiny. The fellow that goes "haw" for "gee" Will find he hasn't got full swing. The best is good enough for me. ONE only knows our needs, and He Does all of the distributing. I quarrel not with Destiny; The best is good enough for me. TOIL HE had toiled away for a weary while, Thro' day's dull glare and the night's deep gloom; And many a long and lonesome mile He had paced in the round of his dismal room; He had fared on hunger --had drank of pain As the drouthy earth might drink of rain; And the brow he leaned in his trembling palm Throbbed with a misery so intense That never again did it seem that calm Might come to him with the gracious balm Of old-time languor and indolence. And he said, "I will leave the tale half told, And leave the song for the winds to sing; And the pen --that pitiless blade of gold That stabs my heart like a dagger-sting -- I will drive to the hilt through the inkstand's top And spill its blood to the last black drop!" Then he masked his voice with a laugh, and went Out in the world with a lawless grace -- With a brazen lie in his eyes and face Told in a smile of glad content: He roved the rounds of pleasure through, And tasted each as it pleased him to; He joined old songs, and the clink and din Of the revelers at the banquet hall; And he tripped his feet where the violin Spun its waltz for the carnival; He looked, bedazed, on the luring wile And the siren-light of a woman's smile, And peered in her eyes as a diver might Peer in the sea ere he leaps from sight, -- Caught his breath, with a glance above, And dropped full-length in the depths of love. Tis well if ever the false lights die On the alien coasts where our wreck'd hopes lie! 'Tis well to feel, through the blinding rain, Our outflung hands touch earth again! So the castaway came, safe from doom, Back at last to his lonely room Filled with its treasure of work to do And radiant with the light and bloom Of the summer sun and his glad soul, too! And sweet as ever the song of birds, Over his work he sang these words:-- "O friends are good, with their princely ways, And royal hearts they are goodly things; And fellowship, in the long dark days When the drear soul cowers with drooping wings, Is a thing to yearn for. --Mirth is good, -- For a ringing laugh is a rhythmic cry Blown like a hail from the Angelhood To the barque of the lone soul drifting by.-- Goodly, too, is the mute caress Of woman's hands and their tenderness -- The warm breath wet with the dews of love -- The vine-like arms, and the fruit thereof -- The touch that thrills, and the kiss that melts,-- But Toil is sweeter than all things else." HIS ROOM "I'm home again, my dear old Room, I'm home again, and happy, too, As, peering through the brightening gloom, I find myself alone with you: Though brief my stay, nor far away, I missed you --missed you night and day -- As wildly yearned for you as now.-- Old Room, how are you, anyhow? "My easy chair, with open arms, Awaits me just within the door; The littered carpet's woven charms Have never seemed so bright before,-- The old rosettes and mignonettes And ivy-leaves and violets, Look up as pure and fresh of hue As though baptized in morning dew. "Old Room, to me your homely walls Fold round me like the arms of love, And over all my being falls A blessing pure as from above -- Even as a nestling child caressed And lulled upon a loving breast, With folded eyes, too glad to weep And yet too sad for dreams or sleep. "You've been so kind to me, old Room -- So patient in your tender care, My drooping heart in fullest bloom Has blossomed for you unaware; And who but you had cared to woo A heart so dark, and heavy too, As in the past you lifted mine From out the shadow to the shine? "For I was but a wayward boy When first you gladly welcomed me And taught me work was truer joy Than rioting incessantly: And thus the din that stormed within The old guitar and violin Has fallen in a fainter tone And sweeter, for your sake alone. "Though in my absence I have stood In festal halls a favored guest, I missed, in this old quietude, My worthy work and worthy rest -- By this I know that long ago You loved me first, and told me so In art's mute eloquence of speech The voice of praise may never reach. "For lips and eyes in truth's disguise Confuse the faces of my friends, Till old affection's fondest ties I find unraveling at the ends; But as I turn to you, and learn To meet my griefs with less concern, Your love seems all I have to keep Me smiling lest I needs must weep. "Yet I am happy, and would fain Forget the world and all its woes; So set me to my tasks again, Old Room, and lull me to repose: And as we glide adown the tide Of dreams, forever side by side, I'll hold your hands as lovers do Their sweethearts' and talk love to you." THE PATHS OF PEACE MAURICE THOMPSON--FEBRUARY 14, 1901 HE would have holiday --outworn, in sooth, Would turn again to seek the old release,-- The open fields --the loved haunts of his youth -- The woods, the waters, and the paths of peace. The rest --the recreation he would choose Be his abidingly! Long has he served And greatly--ay, and greatly let us use Our grief, and yield him nobly as deserved. Perchance --with subtler senses than our own And love exceeding ours --he listens thus To ever nearer, clearer pipings blown From out the lost lands of Theocritus. Or, haply, he is beckoned from us here, By knight or yeoman of the bosky wood, Or, chained in roses, baled a prisoner Before the blithe Immortal, Robin Hood. Or, mayhap, Chaucer signals, and with him And his rare fellows he goes pilgriming; Or Walton signs him, o'er the morning brim Of misty waters midst the dales of Spring. Ho! wheresoe'r he goes, or whosoe'er He fares with, he has bravely earned the boon. Be his the open, and the glory there Of April-buds, May-blooms and flowers of June! Be his the glittering dawn, the twinkling dew, The breathless pool or gush of laughing streams -- Be his the triumph of the coming true Of all his loveliest dreams! IN STATE IS IT the martins or katydids? -- Early morning or late at night? A dream, belike, kneeling down on the lids Of a dying man's eyesight. Over and over I heard the rain -- Over and over I waked to see The blaze of the lamp as again and again Its stare insulted me. It is not the click of the clock I hear -- It is the pulse of the clock, --and lo! How it throbs and throbs on the quickened ear Of the dead man listening so! I heard them whisper She would not come; But, being dead, I knew --I knew! Some hearts they love us alive, and some They love us dead --they do! And I am dead --and I joy to be,-- For here are my folded hands, so cold And yet blood-warm with the roses she Has given me to hold. Dead--yea, dead! --But I hear the beat Of her heart as her warm lips touch my brow -- And O how sweet --how blinding sweet To know that she loves me now! THE MUTE SINGER I THE morning sun seemed fair as though It were a great red rose ablow In lavish bloom, With all the air for its perfume,-- Yet he who had been wont to sing, Could trill no thing. II Supine, at noon, as he looked up Into the vast inverted cup Of heavenly gold, Brimmed with its marvels manifold, And his eye kindled, and his cheek -- Song could not speak. III Night fell forebodingly; he knew Soon must the rain be falling, too,-- And, home, heartsore, A missive met him at the door-- -- Then Song lit on his lips, and he Sang gloriously. THE TRIBUTE OF HIS HOME BENJAMIN HARRISON, INDIANAPOLIS, MARCH 14, 1901 BOWED, midst a universal grief that makes Columbia's self a stricken mourner, cast In tears beneath the old Flag' at half-mast, A sense of glory rouses us and breaks Like song upon our sorrowing and shakes The dew from our drenched eyes, that smile at last In childish pride --as though the great man passed To his most high reward for our poor sakes. Loved of all men --we muse, --yet ours he was -- Choice of the Nation's mighty brotherhood -- Her soldier, statesman, ruler. --Ay, but then, We knew himslong before the world's applause And after --as a neighbor, kind and good, Our common friend and fellow-citizen. EDGAR WILSON NYE OBIT FEBRUARY 22, 1896 THE saddest silence falls when Laughter lays Finger on lip, and falteringly breaks The glad voice into dying minor shakes And quavers, lorn as airs the wind-harp plays At wane of drearest Winter's bleakest days. A troubled hush, in which all hope forsakes Us, and the yearning upstrained vision aches With tears that drown e'en heaven from our gaz Such silence --after such glad merriment! O prince of halest humor, wit and cheer! Could you speak yet to us, I doubt not we Should catch your voice, still blithely eloquent Above all murmurings of sorrow here, Calling your love back to us laughingly. SONGS OF A LIFE-TIME MRS. SARAH T. BOLTON"S POEMS 1897 SONGS of a Life-Time--with the Singer's head A silvery glory shining midst the green Of laurel-leaves that bind a brow serene And godlike as was ever garlanded. -- So seems her glory who herein has wed Melodious Beauty to the strong of mien And kingly Speech --made kinglier by this queen In lilied cadence voiced and raimented. Songs of a Life-Time: by your own sweet stress Of singing were ye loved of bygone years -- As through our day ye are, and shall be hence, Till fame divine marks your melodiousness And on the Singer's lips, with smiles and tears, Seals there the kiss of love and reverence. A NOON INTERVAL A DEEP, delicious hush in earth and sky -- A gracious lull --since, from its wakening, The morn has been a feverish, restless thing In which the pulse of Summer ran too high And riotous, as though its heart went nigh To bursting with delights past uttering: Now, as an o'erjoyed child may cease to sing All falteringly at play, with drowsy eye Draining the pictures of a fairy-tale To brim his dreams with--there comes o'er the day A loathful silence, wherein all sounds fail Like loitering tones of some faint roundelay... No wakeful effort'longer may avail -- The wand waves, and the dozer sinks away. OLD HEC'S IDOLATRY HEIGH-O! our jolly tilts at New World song!-- What was the poem indeed! and where the bard-- "Stabbing his inkpot ever, not his heart," As Hector phrased it contumeliously, Mouthing and munching, at the orchard-stile, A water-cored rainbo whose spirted juice Glanced, sprayed and flecked the sunlight as he mouth'd And muncht, and muncht and mouth'd. All loved the man! "Our Hector" as his Alma Mater oozed It into utterance --"Old Hec" said we Who knew him, hide-and-tallow, hoof-and-horn' So he: "O ay! my soul! our New World song-- The tweedle-deedles of our modern school -- A school of minnows,--not one gamy bass-- To hook the angler, not the angier him. Here! all ye iittle fishes: tweedle-dee! Soh! one--along the vasty stream of time-- Glints to the surface with a gasp,--and, lo, A bubble! and he thinks,'My eye!--see there, Ye little fishes,--there's a song I've sung!' Another gapes: another bubble; then He thinks: 'Well, is it not a wondrous art To breathe a great immortal poem like that!' And then another--and another still -- And yet another,--till from brim to brim The tide is postuled over with a pest Of bubbles--bursting bubbles! Ay! O ay!" So, bluff old lieco And we, who knew his mo Had ramped its worst --unless we roused it yet To ire's horriffickest insanity By some inane, unguarded reference To "verse beragged in Hoosier dialect"-- (A strangely unforgotten coinage of Old Hec's long years agone)--we, so, forbore A word, each glimpsing each, as down we sank, Couched liraply in the orchard's selvage, where -- The rainbo finished and the soggy core Zippt at a sapphire wasp with waist more slim Than any slender lady's, of old wars, Pent fasting for long sennights in tall towers That overtop the undercringing seas-- With one accordant voice, the whi!e he creased His scroll of manuscript, we said, "Go on." Then Hector thus: AN IDYLL OF THE KING Erewhile, at Autumn, to King Arthur's court Came Raelus, clamering: "Lo, has our house Been sacked and pillaged by a lawless band Of robber knaves, led on by Alstanes, The Night-Flower named, because of her fair face, All like a lily gleaming in the dusk Of her dark hair --and like a lily brimmed With dewy eyes that drip their limpid smiles Like poison out, for by them has been wro't My elder brother's doom, as much I fear. While three days gone was holden harvest-feast At Lynion Castle --clinging like a gull High up the gray cliffs of Caerleon Came, leaf-like lifted from the plain below As by a twisted wind, a rustling pack Of bandit pillagers, with Alstanes Bright-fluttering like a red leaf in the front. And ere we were aware of fell intent -- Not knowing whether it was friend or foe -- We found us in their toils, and all the house In place of guests held only prisoners -- Save that the host, my brother, wro't upon By the strange beauty of the robber queen, Was left unfettered, but by silken threads Of fine-spun fiatteries and wanton smiles Of the enchantress, till her villain thieves Had rifled as they willed and signal given To get to horse again. And so they went -- Their leader flinging backward, as she rode, A kiss to my mad brother --mad since then, -- For from that sorry hour he but talked Of Alstanes, and her rare beauty, and Her purity --ay, even that he said Was star-white, and should light his life with love Or leave hiln groping blindly in its quest Thro' all eternity. So, sighing, he Went wandering- about till set of sun, Then got to horse, and bade us all farewell; And with his glamoured eyes bent trancedly Upon the tumbled sands that marked the way The robbcr-woman went, he turned and chased His long black shadow o'er the edge of night." -- So Raelas, all seemingly befret With such concern as nipped his utterance In scraps of speech: at which Sir Lancelot, Lifting a slow smile to the King, and then Turning his cool eye on the youth --"And you Would track this siren-robber to her held And rout her rascal followers, and free Your brother from the meshes of this queen Of hearts --for there you doubtless think him?" "Ay? Foamed Raelus, cheek flushed and eye aflame, -- "So even have I tracked, and found them, too, And know their burrow, shrouded in a copse, Where, faring in my brother's quest, I heard The nicker of his horse, and followed on, And found him tethered in a thicket wild, As tangled in its tress of leaf and limb As is a madman's hair; and down the path That parted it and ran across a knoll And dipped again, all suddenly I came Upon a cave, wide-yawning'neath a beard Of tangled moss and vine, whence issuing I heard, blown o'er my senses faint and clear As whiffs of summer wind, my brother's voice Lilting a love-song, with the burden trickled With dainty warblings of a womans tongue:, And even as I listening bent, I heard Such peals of wanton merriment as made My own heart flutter as a bird that beats For freedom at the bars that prison it. So turned I then and fled as one who flies To save himseft alone --forgetful of all Of that my dearer self --my brother, --O!" -- Breaking as sharply as the icy blade That loosens ~rom the eave to slice the air And splinter into scales of flying frost -- "Thy help! Thy help! A dozen goodly knight Ay, even that, if so it be their hearts Are hungry as my own to right the wrong!" So Raelus. And Arthur graciously Gave ear to him, and, patient, heard him thro', And pitied him, and granted all he asked; Then toolk his hand and held it, saying, "Strong And ever stronger may its grasp be knit About the sword that flashes in the cause Of good." Thus Raelus, on the morrow's front, Trapped like a knight and shining like a star, Pranced from the archway of the court, and led His glittering lances down the gleaming road That river-like ran winding till it slipped Out of the palace view and spilled their shields Like twinkling bubbles o'er the mountain brim Then happed it that as Raelus rode, his tongue Kept even pace and cantered ever on Right merrily. His brother, as he said, Had such an idle soul within his breast -- Such shallowness of fancy for his heart To drift about in ---that he well believed Its anchor would lay hold on any smile The lees of womanhood night offer him. As for himself, he loved his brother well, Yet had far liefer see him stark and white In marble death than that his veins should burn With such vitality as spent its flame So garishly it knew no steady blaze, But ever wavered round as veered the wind Of his conceit; for he had made his boast -- Tho' to his own shame did he speak of it. That with a wink he could buy every smile That virtue owned. So tattled Raelus Till, heated with his theme, he lifted voice And sang the song, "The Light of Woman's Eyes!" "O bright is gleaming morn on mountain height; And bright the moon, silipt from its sheath of night, -- But brighter is the light of woman's eyes. "And bright the dewdrop, trembling on the lip Of some red rose, or lily petal-tip, Or lash of pink, --but brighter woman's eyes. "Bright is the firefly's ever-drifting spark That throbs its pulse of light out in the dark; And bright the stars, --but brighter woman's eyes. "Bright morn or even; bright or moon or star, And all the many twinkling lights that are, -- O brighter than ye all are woman's eyes." So Raelus sang. --And they who rode with him Bewildered were, axed even as he sang Went stragg'ling, twos and thees, and fell behind To whisper wonderingly, "Is he a fool?" And "Does he waver in his mind?" and "Does The newness of adventure dazzle him?" So spake they each to each, till far beyond, With but one Ioathful knight in company, They saw him quit the beaten track, and turn Into the grassy margin of a wood. And loitering, they fell in mocking jest Of their strange leader! "See!why, see!" said one, -- "He needs no help to fight his hornets' nest, But one brave knight to squire him!" --pointing on To where fared on the two and disappeared. "O ay!" said one, "belike he is some old War-battered knight of long-forgotten age, That, bursting from his chrysalis, the grave, Comes back to show us tricks'we never dreamed! "Or haply," said another, with a laugh, -- "He rides ahead to tell them that he comes And shrive them ere his courage catches up." And merry made they all, and each in turn Filliped a witty pellet at his head: Until, at last, their shadows shrunk away And shortened'neath them and the hour was noon. They flung them from their horses listlessly Within the grassy margin of the wood Where had passed Raelus an hour agone: And, hungered, spied a rustic; and they sent To have them such refreshment as might be Found at the nearest farm, --where, as it chanced, Was had most wholesome meat, and milk, and bread; And honey, too, celled in its fretted vase Of gummy gold and dripping nectar-sweet As dreamed-of kisses from the lips of love: Wine, too, was broughten, rosy as the dawn That ushers in the morning' of the heart; And tawny, mellow pear, whose golden ore Fell molten on the tongue and oozed away In creamy and delicious nothingness; And netted melon, musky as the breath Of breezes blown from out the Orient; And purple clusterings of plum and grape, Blurred with a dust dissolving at the touch, Like flakes the fairies had snowed over them. And as the idlers basked, with toast and song And graceful dalliance and wanton jest, A sound of trampling hooves and jingling re Brake sudden, stilled them; and from out a d Path leading from the bosky wood there came A troop of mounted damsels, nigh a score, Led by a queenly girl, in crimson clad, With lissome figure lithe and willowy, And face as fair and sweet and pure withal As might a maiden lily-blossom be Ere it has learned the sin of perfect bloom: Her hair, blown backward like a silken scarf And fondled by the sun, was glossier And bluet black than any raven's wing. "And O!" she laughed, not knowing she was heard By any but her fellows: "Men are fools!" Then drawing rein, and wheeling suddenly, Her charger mincing backward, --"Raelus -- My Raelus is greater than ye all, Since he is such a fool that he forgets He is a man, and lets his tongue of love Run babbling like a silly child's; and, pah! I puff him to the winds like thistle --down!" And, wheeling as she spake, found staring up, Wide-eyed and wondering, a group of knights, Hair lifted, as their elbows propped their heads, Half lying; and one, smirker than the rest, Stood bowing very low, with upturned eyes Lit with a twinkling smile: "Fair lady --and Most gracious gentlewoman -- seeing that The others drew them back as tho' abashed And veiled their faces with all modesty, Tho' she, their leader, showed not any qualm, -- "Since all unwittingly we overheard Your latest speech, and since we know at last 'All men are fools,' right glad indeed am I That such a nest of us remains for you To vanquish with those eyes." Then, serious, That she nor smiled nor winced, nor anything-- "Your pardon will be to me as a shower Of gracious rain'unto a panting drouth." So bowed in humblest reverence; at which The damsel, turning to her followers, Laughed musically, --"See! he proves my words!" Whereat the others joined with inward glee Her pealing mirth; and in the merriment The knights chimed, too, and he, the vanquished one, Till all the wood rang as at hunting-tide When bugle-rumors float about the air And echoes leap and revel in delight. Then spake the vanquished knight, with mental eye Sweeping the vantage-ground that chance had gained, -- "Your further pardon, lady, Since the name Of Raelus fell from those lips of thine, We fain would know of him. He led us here, And as he went the way wherefrom your path Emerges, haply you may tell us where He may be found?" "What! Raelus?" she cried, -- "He comes with you? --The brave Sir Raelus? -- That mighty champion? --hat gallant knight? -- That peerless wonder of all nobleness? Then proud am I to greet ye, knowing that; And, certes, had I known of it ere now, Then had I proffered you more courtesy And told you, ere the asking, that he bides Tim coming of his friends a league from this, Hard by a reedy mere, where in high tune We left him singing nigh an hour agone." Then, as she lightly wheeled her horse about And signal gave to her companions To follow, gaily cried: "Tcll Raelus His cousin sends to him her sad farewells And fond regrets, and kisses many, as His valorous deeds are numbered in her hear And with "Fair morrow to ye, gentle knights!" Her steed's hooves struck the highway at bound; And dimly thro' the dust they saw her lead Her fluttering cavalcade as recklessly As might a queen of Araby, fleet-horsed, Skim o'er the level sands of Syria; So vanished. And the knights with one accord Put foot in stirrup, and, with puzzled minds And many-channeled marvelings, filed in Tim woody path, and fared than on and on Thro' denser glooms, and ways more intricate; Till, mystified at last and wholly lost, They made full halt, and would have turned them back But that a sudden voice brake on their ears All piteous and wailing, as distressed: And, following these cries, they sharply came Upon an open road that circled round A reedy fiat and sodden tract of sedge, Moated with stagnant water, crusted thick With slimy moss, wherein were wriggling things Entangled, and blind bubbles bulging up And bursting where from middle way upshot A tree-trunk, with its gnarled and warty hands As tho' upheld to clutch at sliding snakes Or nip the wet wings of the dragon-fly. Here gazing lo! they saw their comrade, he That had gone on with Raelus; and he Was tugging to fling back into its place A heavy log that once had spanned the pool And made a footway to the sedgy fiat Whence came the bitter wailing cries they heard. Then hastened they to join him in his task; But, panting, as they asked of Raelus, All winded with his work, yet jollier Than meadow-lark at morn, he sent his voice In such a twittering of merriment, The wail of sorrow died and laughter strewed Its grave with melody. "O Raelus! Rare Raelus!" he cried and clapped his hands, And even in the weeds that edged the pool Fell wrestling' with his mirth. -- "Why, Raelus," He said, when he at last could speak again. "Drew magnet-like --you know that talk of his, -- And so, adhesive, did I cling and cling Until I found us in your far advance, And, hidden in the wood, I stayed to say 'Twas better we should bide your coming.'No.' Then on again; and still a second time-- 'Shall we not bide their coming?''No!' he said; And on again, until the third; and'No -- We'll push a little further.' As we did; And, sudden, came upon an open glade -- There to the northward, --by a thicket bound: Then he dismounted, giving me his rein, And, charging me to keep myself concealed, And if he were not back a certain time To ride for you and search where he had gone, He crossed the opening and passed from sight Within the thicket. I was curious: And so, dismounting, tethered our two steeds And followed him; and, creeping warily, Came on him where --unseen of him -- I saw Him pause before the cave hind_self described Before us yesternoon. And here he put His fingers to his lips and gave a call Bird-like and quavering: at which a face, As radiant as summer sun at morn, Parted the viny curtains of the cave; And then, a moment later, came in view A woman even fairer than my sight Might understand.'What! dare you come. again?' As, lifting up her eyes all fiashingly, She scorched him with a iook of hate. --'Begone! Or have you --traitor, villain, knave, and cur,-- Bro't minions of the law to carry out The vengeance of your whimpering jealousy?' Then Raelus, all cowering before Her queenly anger, faltered: 'Hear me yet; I do not threaten. But your love --love!-- O give me that. I know you pure as dew' Your love!Your love! --The smile that has gone out And left my soul a midnight of despair!-- Your love or life! For I have even now Your stronghold girt about with certain doom If you but waver in your choice. --Your love!' At which, as quick. as tho't, leapt on him there A strong' man from the covert of the gloom; And others, like to him, from here and there Came scurrying.!, turning, would have fled, But found myself as suddenly beset And tied and tumbled there with Raelus. And him they haStered by his squirming heels Until he did confess such villainy As made me wonder if his wits were sound -- Confessed himself a renegade --a thief -- Ay, even one of them, save that he knew Not that nice honor even thieves may claim Among themselves. --And so ran on thro' such A catalogue of littlenesses, I For dearest shame had even stopped my ears But that my wrists were lockt. And when he came To his confession of his lie at court, By which was gained our knightly sympathy And valiant service on this fools' crusade, I seemed to feel the redness of my blush Soak thro' my very soul. There I brake in: 'Fair lady and most gallant, --to my shame Do I admit we have been duped by such An ingrate as this bundled lump of flesh That I am helpless to rise up and spurn: Unbind me, and I promise such amends As knightly hands may deign to wreak upon A thing so vile as he.' Then, laughing, she: 'First tell me, by your honor, where await Your knightly brothers and my enemies.' To which I answered, truthfully, I knew Not where you lingered, but not close at hand I was assured. Then all abrupt, she turned: 'Get every one within! We ride at once!' And scarce a dozen minutes ere they came Outpouring from the cave in such a guise As made me smile from very wonderment. --. From head to heel in woman's dress they came, Clad richly, too, and trapped and tricked withal As maidenly, but in the face and hand, As ever damsels flock at holiday. Then were their chargers bro't, caparisoned In keeping; and they mounted, lifting us, Still bounden, with much jest and mockery Of soft caress and wanton blandishments, As tho' they were of sex their dress declared. And so they carried us until they came Upon the road there as it nicks the copse; And so drew rein, dismounted, leaving some To guard their horses; hurried us across This footway to the middle of the fiat. Here Raelus was bounden to a tree, Stript to the waist; my fetters cut, and then A long, keen switch put in my hand, and'Strike! Strike as all duty bids you!' said the queen. And so I did, with right good will at first; Till, softened as I heard the wretch's prayers Of anguish, I at last withheld my hand. 'What! tiring?' chirpt the queen: 'Give me the stick!' And swish, and swish, and mercy how it rained! Then all the others, forming circlewise, Danced round and round the howling wretch, and jeered And japed at him, and mocked and scoffed at him, And spat upon him. And I turned away And hid my face; then raised it pleadingly: Nor would they listen my appeal for him; But left him so, and thonged and took me back Across the mere, and drew the bridge, that none Might go to him, and carried me with them Far on their way, and freed me once again; And back I turned, tho' loath, to succor him." And even as he ceased they heard the wail Break out anew, and crossed without a word, And Raelus they found, and without word They loosed him. And he brake away and ran As runs a lie the truth is hard upon. Thus did it fare with Raelus. And they Who knew of it said naught at court of it, Nor from that day spake ever of him once, Nor heard of him again, nor cared to hear. UNLESS WHO has not wanted does not guess What plenty is.--Who has not groped In depths of doubt and hopelessness Has never truly hoped.-- Unless, sometimes, a shadow fails Upon his mirth, and veils his sight, And from the darkness drifts the light Of love at intervals. And that most dear of everything, I hold, is love; and who can sit With lightest heart, and laugh and sing, Knows not the worth of it.-- Unless, in some strange throng, perchance, He feels how thrilling sweet it is, One yearning look that answers his-- The troth of glance and glance. Who knows not pain, knows not, alas! What pleasure is--Who knows not of The bitter cup that will not pass, Knows not the taste of love. O souls that thirst, and hearts that fast, And natures faint with famishing, God lift and lead and safely bring You to your own at last! PROSE OR VERSE? PROSE or Verse --or Verse or Prose? Ever thus the query goes, -- Which delight do we prefer -- Which the finer --daintier? Each incites a zest that grows -- Prose or Verse --or Verse or Prose?-- Each a lotus-eater's spell Wholly irresistible. All that wit may fashion, free-- Voiced, or piped in melody, -- Prose or Verse --or Verse or Prose -- Which of these the mastery knows? 'Twere as wise to question, friend -- As of this alluring blend, -- The aroma or the rose?-- Prose or Verse --or Verse or Prose? "GO READ YOUR BOOK!" How many times that grim old phrase Has silenced me, in childish days! And now --as then it did -- The phantom admonition, clear And dominant, rings, and I hear, And do as I am bid. "Go read your book!" my good old sire Commanded, in affected ire, When I, with querying look And speech, dared vex his studious mind With idle words of any kind. -- And so I read my book. Though seldom, in that wisest age, Did I discern on Wisdom's page More than the task: that led At least to thinking, and at last To reading less, and not so fast, And longing as I read, And, lo! in gracious time I grc To love a book all through and through!-- With. yearning eyes I look On any votume, --o!d, maybe, Or new --'tis meat and drink to me.-- And so I read my book. Old dog-eared Readers, scarred and inked With school-boy hatred, long extinct; -- Old Histories that bored Me worst of all the school;--old, worn Arithmetics, frayed, ripped, and torn -- Now Ye are all adored! And likewise I revere and praise My sire, as now, with vainest gaze And bearing, still I look For the old face so grave yet dear -- Nay, still I see, and still I hear! And so I read my book. Next even to my nearest kin, -- My wife --my children romping in From school to ride my knee, -- I Iove a book, and dispossess My lap of it with loathfulness, For all their love of me. For, grave or gay the book, it takes Me as an equal-calms, or makes Me, laughing, overlook My little self --forgetful all Of being so exceeding small. And so I read my book.