 | The select poems of Dr. Thomas Dunn English (exclusive of the "Battle lyrics") |  |
443
BIZARRE RHYMES.
445
THE GREAT RHODE ISLAND SEAM:
A NARRATIVE, IN RHYME.
I.
Harmanus Van Brunck was an old Knickerbocker,Who long sailed a ship in the Rotterdam trade;
Then retired from the sea, with “some shot in the locker,”
To build him a fig-tree, and sit in its shade.
So on Murray Hill he erected a mansion,
With a sort of indefinite sky-ward expansion;
A brown-stone front of the Folderol order,
With curlicues spread over every casement;
The ceilings dove-colored, with blue and gold border;
Gas introduced from the attic to basement;
Encaustic tiles for the pavement of halls,
Rosewood furniture, paintings on walls—
The first, in the style of Louis Quatorze;
The second bought cheap, through “the terrible wars,”
The dealer averred, with a wink so sly,
“In Europe,” but really “all in my eye”;
Curtains of silk to each window and bed,
And the costliest carpets to deaden the tread.
Never before was a fig-tree grown,
Of such beautiful mortar, and bricks and stone;
And sitting beneath its comforting shade,
Like Selkirk, the “monarch of all he surveyed,”
Van Brunck exclaimed—“I've left the seas,
Nothing to do, but to do as I please;
446
Let the howling winds blow high, blow low—
Come heat, come cold, come rain, come snow,
Care or trouble no more I'll know.”
II.
But Captain Harmanus found out to his cost,He had footed his bill without leave from his host;
That slippers of silk, and a downy bed,
Might still to a thousand woes be wed;
That in brown-stone fronts brown studies might be,
And rosewood furniture furnish ennui.
Familiar long with the tempest's strife,
Harmanus he missed his former life:
He missed the ship, that never missed stays,
He missed his sailors, with nautical ways;
He missed the heave of the foaming sea;
He missed the white-caps, driving free;
He missed the noise of the angry gale;
He missed the stretched and bellying sail;
He missed his cabin and worn-out traps;
He missed—no, he didn't! his dram of schnapps;
Though never yet knowing of married bliss,
He found his bachelor life amiss;
And, in spite of his brown-stone house and pelf,
Would have been very glad to have missed himself.
For hours by the windows he twiddled his thumbs,
With an eloquence silent as Orator Mum's;
He yawned and he gaped and he dawdled away,
From morning till evening, the wearisome day;
He took up the papers the hours to amuse,
And read thrice over the nautical news;
He travelled his parlors to and fro,
With a quarter-deck tramp and a whistle low;
447
Having killed a cat, was at work upon him.
III.
He took to wandering every day,In a listless, do-nothing, feel-nothing way,
With his gold-headed cane of Malacca wood,
But with stately step, as a gentleman should,
To the pier where his ship was wont to lie,
To gaze on the scene with a lustreless eye.
There was the spot where his vessel had come,
Her sails all furled, and her anchor “home,”
In the days when he was a sailor free,
And whatever he saw, still went to sea.
Now she was absent, and he mourned the loss of her,
Wishing in vain that his bones felt the toss of her
Rollicking heave, as she sped with her freight;
But wishes like these were all too late:
She was away with another master,
Bearing her cargo of pipes and kanaster;
Oils odoriferous, women to please,
From blossoms as fragrant as those of the South;
Big boxes of more odoriferous cheese,
Which offended the nose, but delighted the mouth;
Spice from Batavia, ingots of tin,
Rotterdam sausage, Dutch herrings, and gin.
But he had abandoned such treasures as these,
To another had given his place on the seas;
Had fled from “duff,” “salt-horse,” and such,
Abandoned bilge-water, oakum, and pitch,
Surrendered forever his trade with the Dutch,
And settled him down as a gentleman rich.
And while the world was moving through
Its business orbit, with a din,
448
And plenty of leisure to do it in.
IV.
In most of these daily walks he metA business man who seemed quite needy,
Whose coat was glossy, whose hat-rim's “set”
Had the curve of age, and whose look was seedy;
But whether the day was dark or light,
At the close of the morn, or the coming of night;
Whether the earth was parched and dry,
Or the rain fell fast from the cloudy sky,
This seedy man looked always worried,
As through the avenues swift he hurried,
With brow that was wrinkled with constant thought,
And the lines that a life of action had wrought;
All proving as clearly as anything can,
That this was a stirring and worrying man;
And, whatever his knowledge, that he never knew
The terrible trouble of nothing to do.
“By Jove,” said Captain Van Brunck, said he,
“This is the fellow, I think, for me.
He could relieve all my care, without doubt,
By giving me plenty to care about.
I'll ask him to indicate some pursuit,
And whatever he tells me to do, I'll do 't.”
V.
They formed acquaintance—when, or how,I never learned, nor boots it now.
Enough, that to the stranger, there,
Impelled by hope, to lose his care,
Van Brunck, without interrogation,
Revealed his doleful situation.
449
VI.
“I pity you,” answered the seedy chap,“For nothing to do, and the money in hand,
To such as you is a sad mishap,
And very exceedingly hard to stand.
Now, as for me, why I haven't a rap;
Scarcely a dollar can I command—
To find a shilling sometimes is hard—
(My name is Sharp, and there is my card!)
But I manage to get my grub each day,
Beside my share of a pleasant tap,
When a friend stands treat, and there's nothing to pay.
I drive my work in a quiet way,
And when the night has driven the day,
My wearied form on the bed I lay,
And take, what my hat now needs—a nap.
My fortune is to come as yet,
While yours, you tell me, has been made;
I have no doubt that wealth I'll get,
But not by process slow of trade.
No, sir! I have a project rare,
Suited to such a man as you,
Doubling your riches. Do not stare!
Something you'll shortly have to do,
Giving that joy you've sought in vain,
And making just such golden rain,
As Zee-us brought to woo the maid,
Miss Daniels, in the Grecian shade.”
(You see, the seedy man had read
The classics, in a free translation,
And, not remembering clearly, made,
In names and facts, some alteration.)
“Very well,” quoth the Captain, “your meaning make clear;
Pray develop your project; speak boldly and freely.”
450
And carry the details to Bennett or Greeley.
Let me see! it is three; I've no business at present
To trouble my head, so we'll lunch, if you say,
At Taylor's, and there we'll discuss it—'tis pleasant
To lunch with a friend, when there's nothing to pay.
'Tis a joy fit for monarchs, to ask a good fellow
To feed at your cost, when you've plenty of pelf;
But my selfishness green, and benevolence mellow,
Will let you have that pleasure, debarring myself.”
VII.
To Taylor's they started, and over a dozenOf delicate dishes, and Mumm's Verzenay,
Our seedy friend opened his project to cozen
That donkey, the public, and this was the way:—
In the State of Rhode Island—great place, and all that,
Lay the treasure which soon could be brought into light;
'Twas a seven-foot seam, fully black as your hat,
Of a beautiful, easily-mined anthracite.
The coal was good, and none could doubt it,
The owner himself knew nothing about it;
In fact, had no notion at all how grand
Was the mine of wealth that lay in his land;
So, keeping quiet, and making no rout,
Sharp would be able to buy him out.
Van Brunck could furnish the cash to buy it,
And Sharp, the company organize;
By the operation, if managed in quiet,
A nice little penny they'd both realize.
“No cash,” quoth Sharp, “from you to me;
But an owner of stock I'd like to be;
So out of the shares that you will hold,
A thousand is what I want, all told—
451
Nor is it too much for me to take.
To guard your interests, it is clear,
That secretary and engineer
I ought to be, at three thousand a year—
For brains like mine, that's not too dear,
If the company thrive, as thrive it must,
Or set me down as a nincom,
I can manage to keep up my head from the dust,
With my dividends fat, for my income.
The seam is so thick, and the coal is so fine,
There never was known such a wealthy mine;
We have only together in earnest to join,
And a mint of money we'll certainly coin.”
With that, he made him a calculation,
That, in the thousand acres of ground,
By most reliable multiplication,
Three hundred millions of tons were found;
The value of which, at four dollars per ton—
Well—no matter—'twas plain unto every one.
VIII.
Captain Van Brunck he opened his eyes,And opened his ears to a very great size;
But what, to my view, was a great deal worse,
Captain Van Brunck he opened his purse.
IX.
In less than a month, were paragraphs foundFlying the various journals around,
Of the great discovery, wonderful quite,
Of a goodly seam of anthracite:
Of its quality, quantity, and location,
In such an elegant situation.
452
Was a statement made by Professor Chilton,
Showing as plainly as figures could show,
Glowing as brightly as words could glow,
That the purest of carbon made up the coal,
Except some half per cent. of the whole;
That Lehigh and Schuylkill couldn't shine
Beside the great Rhode Island Mine,
Which had coal enough to serve the nation
For all its domestic conflagration.
X.
Oh, what a jubilee Wall Street knew!Harmanus Van Brunck had something to do;
And so had Sharp, and the brokers, too.
Seekers there were for the stock in plenty,
“Rhode Island Seam,” at a hundred and twenty;
But never a holder was found so flat,
To part with his stock at a figure like that.
As for the president, old Van Brunck,
Whom all set down for a millionaire,
Attack him when sober, attack him when drunk,
You couldn't persuade him to sell you a share;
For he knew what was what, and he certainly meant
To get for his money a hundred per cent.,
And though he had loaned to the Company cash
To a figure that some poor-old fogies thought rash,
He knew it was safe, for Sharp had said it,
And what Sharp said, he was “bound to credit.”
But Sharp, the intelligent Secretary,
Had very much feeling about him, very;
And, though it was much to his injury, meant
To part with a little, at thirty per cent.
Of a premium—just to a friend or two;
453
But so far did his courtesy bear him away,
That he found himself once on a very fine day,
On the road to becoming a millionaire,
But devoid of a single Rhode Island share.
XI.
Sharp often said he was poorly paid,That he spent his salary three times over,
That extravagant ways, on some of these days,
Would send him adrift as a houseless rover.
Nevertheless, he grew neat in his dress,
And did not seem to be penniless.
Boots from Brooks, and hat from Knox,
Bouquet d'Ogarita to freshen his locks,
A broadcloth coat of the finest and best,
Gold chains crossing his velvet vest,
Cassimere trowsers, that fitted as sleek
As though they had grown to the delicate skin;
A costly repeater, with musical tick,
And from Tiffany's shop, a diamond pin;
Things like these his person bore—
These he had, and some little more.
He had his phaeton, of elegant style,
With as fine a trotter as he could find,
“Inside of the forties” to go his mile;
And a spotted dog, to travel behind.
He went to the Opera now and then,
But not like the poorer, musical asses,
In the upper tiers, with the lower classes,
But down below, with the upper ten;
And gave to all charities, giving account
In the newspapers, both of the name and amount.
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XII.
But as the fever reached its height,Some doubting dogs, for such there were,
Who thought that black could not be white,
That foul might be when seeming fair,
Just chanced to say, they'd like to know
When the Company meant to throw
In market a thousand tons or so.
Sharp opened his eyes, and hemmed and hawed;
He thought it impertinent, very, and odd;
For every one knew, that with motives prudential,
And for reasons numerous, safe, and potential,
The directors' action was confidential;
But thought, perhaps, in a year or so,
Some cargoes of coal to the market would go.
XIII.
Doubt is a plant of hasty growth—Junius thought Confidence a slow one—
And some have learned, however loth,
To put implicit trust in no one.
These now began to fear and doubt,
And then to quietly sell out;
While whispers ran from man to man,
That all was but a swindler's plan;
Then, shares to fall at once began.
At length, one day, the stock-list bore
“Rhode Island Seam,” at sixty-four.
Next day, to fifty down it dropped;
Next day, sixteen from that was lopped;
The next, at twenty it was quoted,
As “offered,” but no sales were noted.
455
XIV.
They summoned together the holders of stock,
When Sharp made a speech, and he proved to a T,
That the entire concern was as firm as a rock,
And the rumors around were but fiddle-de-dee.
But, nevertheless, he had sent a fine chunk
Of the coal to a savan of note and reliance,
To analyze that, and dispatch to Van Brunck
The result, in the positive language of science.
When Sharp made a speech, and he proved to a T,
That the entire concern was as firm as a rock,
And the rumors around were but fiddle-de-dee.
But, nevertheless, he had sent a fine chunk
Of the coal to a savan of note and reliance,
To analyze that, and dispatch to Van Brunck
The result, in the positive language of science.
“I told him,” said Sharp, “that if better he'd deem
Such a course, he might go and examine the seam.
All this has been done; and this letter you see,
Addressed to our Chairman, Van Brunck—not to me—
Has this moment arrived. Whate'er it contain
Is without double-dealing, and upright, and plain.
I ask the permission of our worthy Chairman,
To whom 'tis directed—an upright and fair man—
To open the document; let it be read—
No doubt it will back what we've all along said.”
Having closed, he sat down with a bow—and the crowd,
Delighted, accorded him cheers long and loud.
Such a course, he might go and examine the seam.
All this has been done; and this letter you see,
Addressed to our Chairman, Van Brunck—not to me—
Has this moment arrived. Whate'er it contain
Is without double-dealing, and upright, and plain.
I ask the permission of our worthy Chairman,
To whom 'tis directed—an upright and fair man—
To open the document; let it be read—
No doubt it will back what we've all along said.”
Having closed, he sat down with a bow—and the crowd,
Delighted, accorded him cheers long and loud.
XV.
The letter was opened; and these were the linesThat were signed by the savan, who wrote from the mines:
XVI.
“Dear Sir—I travelled through your mine,And like it best above the ground;
I think your engine very fine—
I've analyzed the mineral found,
456
That, at the final judgment-day,
The man who, on its sable heap,
Shall patiently take up his station,
May, past all doubt, his body keep
Safe from the general conflagration.
And yet it is not useless quite,
Although by no means anthracite,
'Twould serve some “fire-proof” maker's turn—
He couldn't get material colder—
There's one thing, it will surely burn,
Which is—the confident stockholder.”
XVII.
[OMITTED]Sharp now keeps a coach—owns a fine country-seat;
A pew in Grace Church—he is famed for his piety—
Dresses in manner distingué and neat,
And is courted a deal in our better society.
[OMITTED]
Recently passing, one fair summer's day,
From his house in Fifth Avenue, into Broadway,
Sharp met an old beggar, who charity prayed—
Said he'd seen better days, when he'd plenty of cash,
Which was made by his ship, in the Rotterdam trade;
But he broke when the “Rhode Island Seam” went to smash.
Sharp, who has a heart that is well known to feel
For the woes of humanity, evermore willing
His mite to the wretched at all times to deal,
Like a nobleman, gave the old beggar a shilling.
457
KINDERKAMACK.
The red-skinned marauders for plunder one day,
An hour before noontide in blossoming May,
Came to honest Jan Bogart's, while Jan was away
On a visit to Hackensack village.
An hour before noontide in blossoming May,
Came to honest Jan Bogart's, while Jan was away
On a visit to Hackensack village.
They slaughtered the cattle, they scattered the grain,
Broke the spout of the tea-pot, the wheels of the wain,
And threatened Katrina, Jan's helpmeet, to brain,
If she dared to complain of their pillage.
Broke the spout of the tea-pot, the wheels of the wain,
And threatened Katrina, Jan's helpmeet, to brain,
If she dared to complain of their pillage.
They scoured every corner, they rummaged each nook,
They ransacked each cupboard, they stripped every hook;
Whatever the robbers could carry they took,
And destroyed all too heavy to carry.
They ransacked each cupboard, they stripped every hook;
Whatever the robbers could carry they took,
And destroyed all too heavy to carry.
They bore off the harness that hung in the stoop,
The pork from the barrel, the hens from the coop;
Then speedily took off themselves with a whoop,
As if chased from the place by Old Harry.
The pork from the barrel, the hens from the coop;
Then speedily took off themselves with a whoop,
As if chased from the place by Old Harry.
Jan Bogart came riding from cronies in town,
His heart had no sorrow, his brow had no frown;
He was filled with contentment from toe unto crown,
And eke had of Hollands a skinful.
His heart had no sorrow, his brow had no frown;
He was filled with contentment from toe unto crown,
And eke had of Hollands a skinful.
Arrived at his dwelling, his wonder was such,
That he uttered some rather hard words in Low Dutch,
Declaring the robbers he'd have in his clutch,
And much more he said that was sinful.
That he uttered some rather hard words in Low Dutch,
Declaring the robbers he'd have in his clutch,
And much more he said that was sinful.
He not alone threatened, but acted to boot,
On the principles uttered by Hugo de Groot,
And summoned the neighbors to ride in pursuit,
By his negro-man, 'Cobus Van Clamus.
On the principles uttered by Hugo de Groot,
And summoned the neighbors to ride in pursuit,
By his negro-man, 'Cobus Van Clamus.
458
'Cobus carried the summons along Pellum Kill,
By Stena Val rocky, outsounding its mill—
Kreuphel Bus told the story to Schraalenberg Hill,
Closter shouted the tale to Paramus.
By Stena Val rocky, outsounding its mill—
Kreuphel Bus told the story to Schraalenberg Hill,
Closter shouted the tale to Paramus.
On the broad ridge of Tineck, through green Tenavlie,
Secaucus, Hohokus, and Hackensack by,
And through Overbeek meadows resounded the cry,
Stirring hearers to fiercest of action.
Secaucus, Hohokus, and Hackensack by,
And through Overbeek meadows resounded the cry,
Stirring hearers to fiercest of action.
Accoutred and mounted the volunteers came,
All eager for vengeance and panting for fame,
And each with a scarcely-pronounceable name,
Save by tongues of a Belgic extraction.
All eager for vengeance and panting for fame,
And each with a scarcely-pronounceable name,
Save by tongues of a Belgic extraction.
There were Willem van Broekhuizen, Constantijn Loots,
Elias van Kinker, Gerbraend van der Groots,
Cornelis van Stavoren, Pieter van Poots,
Jan Bleecker and Evert van Decker.
Elias van Kinker, Gerbraend van der Groots,
Cornelis van Stavoren, Pieter van Poots,
Jan Bleecker and Evert van Decker.
There were Heinrijk van Gelder, Harmanus van Schoop,
Jacobus van Vechten, Niclaes van den Poop,
Staats Cats, Gerrit Blauvelt, Tursse Derrick ter Yoop,
Markus Ten Eyck and Wouter van Schecker.
Jacobus van Vechten, Niclaes van den Poop,
Staats Cats, Gerrit Blauvelt, Tursse Derrick ter Yoop,
Markus Ten Eyck and Wouter van Schecker.
There were Jurrie Jerolamen, Symon van Welt,
Jordiz Spiers, Ide van Giesen, Christophel van Pelt,
Zacharias van Syckel, Claes Cos, Hert van Gelt,
Jan van Vechten and Joris van Ruyper.
Jordiz Spiers, Ide van Giesen, Christophel van Pelt,
Zacharias van Syckel, Claes Cos, Hert van Gelt,
Jan van Vechten and Joris van Ruyper.
There were Gerrit van Purmerendt, Jonas van Schliez,
Myndert Vreelandt, Gus Cadmus, Esaias de Vries,
Brom Vanderbeek, Harrmansy Stoffel van Giese,
Clootz van Bleckom and Symen van Hooren.
Myndert Vreelandt, Gus Cadmus, Esaias de Vries,
Brom Vanderbeek, Harrmansy Stoffel van Giese,
Clootz van Bleckom and Symen van Hooren.
459
There were Arent van Rensellaer, Reimer van Schauw,
Jan van Woert, Piet van Brunt, Lucas van der Goesa Dauw,
Antonides Kamphuysen, Dirk Smits, Philip Pauw,
Didier Claesen and Mattys van Burens.
Jan van Woert, Piet van Brunt, Lucas van der Goesa Dauw,
Antonides Kamphuysen, Dirk Smits, Philip Pauw,
Didier Claesen and Mattys van Burens.
There were Gerbrandtsen Schoonmaker, Teunis van Luyck,
Helmig Helmigsen Garrabrandt, Barent van Schaick,
Jan Evertsen Ackerman, Waling van Dyck,
Edo Aertsen and Cobus Harmansen.
Helmig Helmigsen Garrabrandt, Barent van Schaick,
Jan Evertsen Ackerman, Waling van Dyck,
Edo Aertsen and Cobus Harmansen.
There were Pieter van Voorhis, Claus Bos, Mattys Spoers,
Casparus Cornelissen, Govertsen Toers,
Oeloff Vos, Michel Teunissen, Joostie van Boers,
Dirck Ruyter and Andries Auryansen.
Casparus Cornelissen, Govertsen Toers,
Oeloff Vos, Michel Teunissen, Joostie van Boers,
Dirck Ruyter and Andries Auryansen.
There were Evert van Bakhuysen, Gilliam van Rip,
Marinus van Duikhuysen, Stoffelsen Sipp,
Martinus Merselis, Jan Klauz, Lourens Kip,
Brandt Banta and Mattys van Kuyper.
Marinus van Duikhuysen, Stoffelsen Sipp,
Martinus Merselis, Jan Klauz, Lourens Kip,
Brandt Banta and Mattys van Kuyper.
There were Pieter van Nieuwkeircke, Ide Aersen van Dorn,
Myndert Jan Vanderlinda, Rutan Vanderlorn,
Waling Huysman, Dirck Outwater, Teunis van Horn,
Diedrick Demarest, Stoffelsen Tysen;
Myndert Jan Vanderlinda, Rutan Vanderlorn,
Waling Huysman, Dirck Outwater, Teunis van Horn,
Diedrick Demarest, Stoffelsen Tysen;
There were Teunis van Arsdale, Jan Cadmus, Brom Ram,
Arie Aersen, Ide Oosten, Nicasie van Schlam,
Jan van Bussum, Jan Teunissen, Yip Rip van Dam,
Dirck Vreelandt and Piet Frelinghuysen.
Arie Aersen, Ide Oosten, Nicasie van Schlam,
Jan van Bussum, Jan Teunissen, Yip Rip van Dam,
Dirck Vreelandt and Piet Frelinghuysen.
There were Patius van Houten, Casparus van Zuyl,
Jansen Poulesse, Rolf Tidenbock, Hepel van Tuyl,
Art Haring, Dolf Winkelen, Seba von Huyl,
Wiert Hammel and Danel van Alen.
Jansen Poulesse, Rolf Tidenbock, Hepel van Tuyl,
Art Haring, Dolf Winkelen, Seba von Huyl,
Wiert Hammel and Danel van Alen.
460
There were Philip van Eyderstijn, Roeloff Debaan,
Powles Piek, Gabrel Muissinger, Hendrick van Sann,
Old Conradus van Hooren, Nicasie van Blaan,
Mical Berry, and Andries van Valen.
Powles Piek, Gabrel Muissinger, Hendrick van Sann,
Old Conradus van Hooren, Nicasie van Blaan,
Mical Berry, and Andries van Valen.
There were Onno van Steenwijk, Baltasar van Bijn,
Lambertus Schim Bilderdijk, Melis van Klijn,
And Dominie Anton van Schaick Noidekijn,
Who rode, being fat, on a pony.
Lambertus Schim Bilderdijk, Melis van Klijn,
And Dominie Anton van Schaick Noidekijn,
Who rode, being fat, on a pony.
There were Dirck van Benschoten, Jan Joost vander Meer,
Jeremias van Bebber, Frans Lodewijk van Leer,
Gysbert Huyler, Huig Schuyler, Ryneer van der Veer,
And an Irishman named Mickey Roney.
Jeremias van Bebber, Frans Lodewijk van Leer,
Gysbert Huyler, Huig Schuyler, Ryneer van der Veer,
And an Irishman named Mickey Roney.
On such worthies in battle no fortune could frown;
Success was predestined their efforts to crown,
Since their names were sufficient the foe to knock down
Or bring him at least to a low knee.
Success was predestined their efforts to crown,
Since their names were sufficient the foe to knock down
Or bring him at least to a low knee.
The track of the robbers in hurry upon
They followed till sunset had reddened and gone,
And long past the midnight rode eagerly on,
For carnage and fisticuffs ready.
They followed till sunset had reddened and gone,
And long past the midnight rode eagerly on,
For carnage and fisticuffs ready.
Not knowing that hidden the savages lay
By the side of the brooklet, a rod from the way,
Drochy Val they were passing an hour before day,
In a gallop both sweeping and steady.
By the side of the brooklet, a rod from the way,
Drochy Val they were passing an hour before day,
In a gallop both sweeping and steady.
Now the Sanhican robbers so cunning and shrewd,
Expecting to be by Jan Bogart pursued,
Had quietly entered a spot in the wood,
Where the boughs and the vines kept away light.
Expecting to be by Jan Bogart pursued,
Had quietly entered a spot in the wood,
Where the boughs and the vines kept away light.
461
'Mid the briars and coppice apart from the road,
The plunder they carried the rascals bestowed,
And with it a chicken—male gender—who crowed
Diurnally, just before daylight.
The plunder they carried the rascals bestowed,
And with it a chicken—male gender—who crowed
Diurnally, just before daylight.
So close was the covert, so dense and so deep,
That no sentry they needed their watching to keep,
One after the other they yielded to sleep,
Nodding time, while their noses sang sweetly.
That no sentry they needed their watching to keep,
One after the other they yielded to sleep,
Nodding time, while their noses sang sweetly.
No fear of a foeman the slumberers knew,
Each slept the profoundest as men often do,
But waked when the traitor at four o'clock crew,
With a crow crowed chromatic completely.
Each slept the profoundest as men often do,
But waked when the traitor at four o'clock crew,
With a crow crowed chromatic completely.
From pleasure in visions to real despair,
They wakened in terror—the white men were there!
The hunters had tracked them in wrath to their lair,
With purpose of vengeance the sternest.
They wakened in terror—the white men were there!
The hunters had tracked them in wrath to their lair,
With purpose of vengeance the sternest.
Now vainly for mercy the Sanhican bends;
No pleading may soften the doom which impends;
Revenge with red fingers the moment attends—
The Dutchmen are fiercely in earnest.
No pleading may soften the doom which impends;
Revenge with red fingers the moment attends—
The Dutchmen are fiercely in earnest.
Van Gelder commanded the force on the right,
The left by Huig Schuyler was led to the fight,
And the centre presented invincible might,
Under Onno van Steenwijk the peerless.
The left by Huig Schuyler was led to the fight,
And the centre presented invincible might,
Under Onno van Steenwijk the peerless.
High waving for truncheon a bottle of gin,
Jan Bogart gave order the fight to begin,
When at it they started with terrible din,
Doing deeds both ferocious and fearless.
Jan Bogart gave order the fight to begin,
When at it they started with terrible din,
Doing deeds both ferocious and fearless.
462
Snap! bang! went the rifles; but having forgot,
In loading the weapons both bullets and shot,
No foeman was injured, though firing was hot,
And the smoke of the powder was stifling.
In loading the weapons both bullets and shot,
No foeman was injured, though firing was hot,
And the smoke of the powder was stifling.
And though not a bullet bored hole in a skin,
It did not diminish the worth of a pin,
The glory the white man was destined to win,
Since the wounds which they dealt were not trifling.
It did not diminish the worth of a pin,
The glory the white man was destined to win,
Since the wounds which they dealt were not trifling.
Staats Cats who discovered his rifle had missed,
Being valiant of spirit and quick with his fist,
Fell back on the weapon which hung from his wrist,
And better was that than his foes had.
Being valiant of spirit and quick with his fist,
Fell back on the weapon which hung from his wrist,
And better was that than his foes had.
Right and left like a tempest he hurtled his blows:
Right and left in his pathway he tumbled his foes;
And in settling the question by ayes and by noes,
The eyes had it first, then the nose had.
Right and left in his pathway he tumbled his foes;
And in settling the question by ayes and by noes,
The eyes had it first, then the nose had.
The Dominie Anton, a peaceable man,
Exhorting the valiant, walked out to the van,
Where he stopped to examine a new frying-pan,
Which from Bogart's the robbers had plundered.
Exhorting the valiant, walked out to the van,
Where he stopped to examine a new frying-pan,
Which from Bogart's the robbers had plundered.
A Sanhican told him to drop it and go,
For being a parson he surely should know
He was fitter to pray for than fight with a foe;
But the savage soon found that he blundered.
For being a parson he surely should know
He was fitter to pray for than fight with a foe;
But the savage soon found that he blundered.
Through the air on his noddle the frying-pan flew;
But, the skull being hardest, the bottom broke through,
And the handle behind him stuck out like a queue,
While the rim of the pan griped his neck fast.
But, the skull being hardest, the bottom broke through,
And the handle behind him stuck out like a queue,
While the rim of the pan griped his neck fast.
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Declining to tarry such treatment to find,
The savage he started with speed of the wind,
While out streamed the handle in stiffness behind,
As the man ran for life and his breakfast.
The savage he started with speed of the wind,
While out streamed the handle in stiffness behind,
As the man ran for life and his breakfast.
By the leg Markus Ten Eyck an enemy seized,
Holding tight till Huig Schuyler the prisoner eased,
Whereat gallant Markus was highly displeased,
And piped out his wrath in no kind pipe.
Holding tight till Huig Schuyler the prisoner eased,
Whereat gallant Markus was highly displeased,
And piped out his wrath in no kind pipe.
“Intense in his anger,” the chronicle saith,
“Though wearied exceeding and panting for breath,
He cried, ‘I would surely have choked him to death
Had you not torn my gripe from his wind-pipe.’”
“Though wearied exceeding and panting for breath,
He cried, ‘I would surely have choked him to death
Had you not torn my gripe from his wind-pipe.’”
And brave Mickey Roney, so brawny of limb,
Foul shame to the minstrel regardless of him!
No words can establish the vigor and vim
Displayed by that blade in his labors.
Foul shame to the minstrel regardless of him!
No words can establish the vigor and vim
Displayed by that blade in his labors.
On the Sanhican Sconces 'twas wondrous to see
His alpeen beat fastly like head waves at sea,
While rang out his war-cry commencing with “Be,”
And ending with something like “Jabers.”
His alpeen beat fastly like head waves at sea,
While rang out his war-cry commencing with “Be,”
And ending with something like “Jabers.”
But half of the wonders occurring in fight,
I own myself partly unable to write;
Did I keep my pen going from morning till night,
Exhausting the ink from my bottle.
I own myself partly unable to write;
Did I keep my pen going from morning till night,
Exhausting the ink from my bottle.
'Tis enough that the Dutchmen, far down in the day,
Came back with the plunder the foe bore away,
Including the chicken that led to the fray,
By a blundering crow from his throttle.
Came back with the plunder the foe bore away,
Including the chicken that led to the fray,
By a blundering crow from his throttle.
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'Tis true that one trophy the foe bore away—
The frying-pan broken so badly that day—
But the Sanhican never could mend it they say,
Gaining naught from the prize that he got ill.
The frying-pan broken so badly that day—
But the Sanhican never could mend it they say,
Gaining naught from the prize that he got ill.
THE MORAL.
When the white men triumphant from battle rode back,
The Sanhicans knowing the cause of attack,
Named the place of the battle thence—“Kinderkamack,”
Meaning “Here chanticleer crowed unbidden.”
The Sanhicans knowing the cause of attack,
Named the place of the battle thence—“Kinderkamack,”
Meaning “Here chanticleer crowed unbidden.”
And a lesson of wisdom these incidents show:
Whenever the hen-roost you rob of a foe,
Twist the heads off the chickens ere homeward you go,
Lest a crow should betray where you've hidden.
Whenever the hen-roost you rob of a foe,
Twist the heads off the chickens ere homeward you go,
Lest a crow should betray where you've hidden.
DALY'S COW.
A LEGEND OF FORT LEE.
While Doctor E. was sleeping sound last Wednesday morn in bed,
A voice came shrieking in his ears, and these the words it said—
“Arouse! arise! and don your clothes, and to your feet add wings,
If you would save your cabbages, your beets and other things
From the cow of Paddy Daly!”
A voice came shrieking in his ears, and these the words it said—
“Arouse! arise! and don your clothes, and to your feet add wings,
If you would save your cabbages, your beets and other things
From the cow of Paddy Daly!”
The Doctor rose, and glared and said, (but then not sure I am
What was the very word he used, but know it rhymed with “clam”)
And, while he put his trowsers on, he backward said a prayer.
And frequently repeated it, till sulphur filled the air,
For the cow of Micky Daly.
What was the very word he used, but know it rhymed with “clam”)
465
And frequently repeated it, till sulphur filled the air,
For the cow of Micky Daly.
And when he to the garden got, the sight that there was seen!
The wreck of cabbages and beets, the crush of pea and bean!
Cow-trampled Oxyuras; crushed Verbenas scattered round!
Petunias munched; and Picotees all levelled with the ground!
By the cow of Alick Daly!
The wreck of cabbages and beets, the crush of pea and bean!
Cow-trampled Oxyuras; crushed Verbenas scattered round!
Petunias munched; and Picotees all levelled with the ground!
By the cow of Alick Daly!
He gazed upon the fearful wreck in utter, black despair—
What words could fairly justice do to half the ruin there?
But not e'en Horace Greeley could, though swearing all he knew,
Do half as much as Doctor E. to make the air look blue
At the cow of Phelim Daly.
What words could fairly justice do to half the ruin there?
But not e'en Horace Greeley could, though swearing all he knew,
Do half as much as Doctor E. to make the air look blue
At the cow of Phelim Daly.
He said it was a [blank, blank] shame that such a [blank, blank] beast
Should do such [blank, blank] mischief, and at his expense should feast;
Quoth he—“I've stood this [blank, blank] wrong, too [blank] long any how;
The owner is a son of a [blank]; I'll pound his [blank, blank] cow—”
'Twas the cow of Teddy Daly.
Should do such [blank, blank] mischief, and at his expense should feast;
Quoth he—“I've stood this [blank, blank] wrong, too [blank] long any how;
The owner is a son of a [blank]; I'll pound his [blank, blank] cow—”
'Twas the cow of Teddy Daly.
The cow had been Pat Mallen's cow, and ravaged all the town;
Pat sold her (Coytesville leaped with joy) and thus sold Richard Brown;
But Brown he found she was a rogue, enough to vex a saint,
And, being an honest man himself, not prone to cause complaint,
Sold the cow to Brian Daly.
Pat sold her (Coytesville leaped with joy) and thus sold Richard Brown;
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And, being an honest man himself, not prone to cause complaint,
Sold the cow to Brian Daly.
But whether Patrick Mallen's cow, or Brown's, or Daly's, she
Was fond of visiting at times the place of Doctor E.;
No hunter leaped a fence so well, and never burglar cracked
A crib with such dexterity as she a gate attacked—
Did this cow of Terry Daly.
Was fond of visiting at times the place of Doctor E.;
No hunter leaped a fence so well, and never burglar cracked
A crib with such dexterity as she a gate attacked—
Did this cow of Terry Daly.
So with some point-blank adjectives that had a rolling sound,
The Doctor started off with her to Mr. Irving's pound;
And on the road the quarrymen just going to their work
Declared they smelt a brimstone smell, and saw some raging Turk
Chase the cow of Owny Daly.
The Doctor started off with her to Mr. Irving's pound;
And on the road the quarrymen just going to their work
Declared they smelt a brimstone smell, and saw some raging Turk
Chase the cow of Owny Daly.
Just at Schaffhausen's corner now the cow she made a turn;
She gave a snort, and then a jump, and tossed those heels of her'n;
She thought she'd slope to Coytesville, then her old friend, Pat, to see—
“Not if the court she knows herself, you don't!” said Doctor E.,
To the cow of Barney Daly.
She gave a snort, and then a jump, and tossed those heels of her'n;
She thought she'd slope to Coytesville, then her old friend, Pat, to see—
“Not if the court she knows herself, you don't!” said Doctor E.,
To the cow of Barney Daly.
The cow was rather fleet of foot, the Doctor fleeter still—
He turned her head, and off they went (2.40) up the hill;
In front of Semmindinger's house she tried to make a bolt,
And shot toward Sam Corker's next, as frisky as a colt,
Did this cow of Dinny Daly.
He turned her head, and off they went (2.40) up the hill;
In front of Semmindinger's house she tried to make a bolt,
And shot toward Sam Corker's next, as frisky as a colt,
Did this cow of Dinny Daly.
Then, when he circumvented her, she slowly took her way,
But kept her eyes wide open for the chances, as they say,
Up Linwood Avenue she slipt—“I'm off, I am!” thought she;
But her four legs were slower than the two of Doctor E.—
That same cow of Larry Daly.
But kept her eyes wide open for the chances, as they say,
467
But her four legs were slower than the two of Doctor E.—
That same cow of Larry Daly.
But the cow run of the Doctor, it came very near to be
A Bull Run at the moment, as spectators well could see;
The cow she took a sudden cut, as if she were [blank] bent,
And over 'twixt Mat Glaser's and the Chick's, off she went,
Did this cow of Danny Daly.
A Bull Run at the moment, as spectators well could see;
The cow she took a sudden cut, as if she were [blank] bent,
And over 'twixt Mat Glaser's and the Chick's, off she went,
Did this cow of Danny Daly.
Had Glaser been at home himself, he could, if so inclined,
Have stopped her with a fence-rail, or with something of the kind;
But Mat was off to Hackensack, enjoying like a king
The county's hospitality, and could not get a fling
At the cow of Martin Daly.
Have stopped her with a fence-rail, or with something of the kind;
But Mat was off to Hackensack, enjoying like a king
The county's hospitality, and could not get a fling
At the cow of Martin Daly.
Now up the rise, then down the hill, right for the fields she sped,
And, like a pair of compasses, the Doctor's legs they spread.
She's at the gap! She'll gain it now! She won't! The Doctor's first,
And wins the race by half a head (of speed a wondrous burst)
O'er the cow of Hughie Daly.
And, like a pair of compasses, the Doctor's legs they spread.
She's at the gap! She'll gain it now! She won't! The Doctor's first,
And wins the race by half a head (of speed a wondrous burst)
O'er the cow of Hughie Daly.
Then through the ice-house hollow, and along 'Squire Taylor's lane,
He raced her and he chased her till they gained the road again;
There she made for Katy Lewis's—the Doctor put on steam,
And headed her and turned her, till of hope there was no gleam
For the cow of Barty Daly.
He raced her and he chased her till they gained the road again;
There she made for Katy Lewis's—the Doctor put on steam,
And headed her and turned her, till of hope there was no gleam
For the cow of Barty Daly.
468
She hung her head, her wind was gone, she painful moved and slow;
He clapped his hands against his sides, and gave a mighty crow—
Take care! beware! she's fooling you! she makes for Jones's lane!
The Doctor gave a burst of speed, and quickly round again
Turned the cow of Archy Daly.
He clapped his hands against his sides, and gave a mighty crow—
Take care! beware! she's fooling you! she makes for Jones's lane!
The Doctor gave a burst of speed, and quickly round again
Turned the cow of Archy Daly.
The gate is reached and in she goes, but goes not where she should;
She's through the new-mown meadow, and is heading for the wood—
In vain! in vain! she's turned again! she's driven to the pound!
While Caspar stares, and Aider glares, and neighbors gather round
Near the cow of Lanty Daly.
She's through the new-mown meadow, and is heading for the wood—
In vain! in vain! she's turned again! she's driven to the pound!
While Caspar stares, and Aider glares, and neighbors gather round
Near the cow of Lanty Daly.
“I'd not have triumphed in the race,” the breathless Doctor says—
“Were not her conscience weighted down with fifty cabbages.
But [blank] your eyes! you're safe at last, you brute! [blank, blank] your blood!”—
The cow she didn't answer him, but merely chewed her cud—
Did this cow of Andy Daly.
“Were not her conscience weighted down with fifty cabbages.
But [blank] your eyes! you're safe at last, you brute! [blank, blank] your blood!”—
The cow she didn't answer him, but merely chewed her cud—
Did this cow of Andy Daly.
In Daly's castle there was grief the evening of that day;
And Daly thought his darling cow had surely gone astray;
Be comforted, ye Dalys all! the cow will yet be found;
She chews again those cabbages in Henry Irving's pound—
Does the cow of Corny Daly.
And Daly thought his darling cow had surely gone astray;
Be comforted, ye Dalys all! the cow will yet be found;
She chews again those cabbages in Henry Irving's pound—
Does the cow of Corny Daly.
469
THE BEGGARS.
“Hark! Hark! the dogs do bark!”
The great yellow Schlank with a cold in her throat,
The fox-like Spitz with a piercing note,
Johnny M'Cabe's little black-and-tan,
And the mangy cur of the rag-cart man;
Towser and Carlo and Ponto and Wince,
Whisker and Huon, and Brant and Prince,
Bull and Bouncer and Rollo and Spring,
Snap and Fido and Dash and Wing,
Pompey and Growler and Trusty and Carl,
Bruiser and Bingo and Dandy and Snarl;
Lap-dogs, covered with hair like flax;
China dogs, with no hair to their backs;
Dogs that have come from the stormy shore
Of rocky and ice-bound Labrador;
Collies, expert the flock to guard;
Hairy fellows from Saint Bernard;
Starveling curs that back lanes haunt;
Coach-dogs spotted, and wolf-dogs gaunt;
Greyhounds, pointers, setters, terriers,
Bulldogs, turnspits, spaniels, harriers,
Mastiffs, boarhounds, Eskemo,
Poodles, mongrels, beefhounds low;
Every dog of every kind,
Of every temper and every mind,
All engaged in the general row—
Snap, yelp, growl, ki-yi, bow-wow!
The fox-like Spitz with a piercing note,
Johnny M'Cabe's little black-and-tan,
And the mangy cur of the rag-cart man;
Towser and Carlo and Ponto and Wince,
Whisker and Huon, and Brant and Prince,
Bull and Bouncer and Rollo and Spring,
Snap and Fido and Dash and Wing,
Pompey and Growler and Trusty and Carl,
Bruiser and Bingo and Dandy and Snarl;
Lap-dogs, covered with hair like flax;
China dogs, with no hair to their backs;
Dogs that have come from the stormy shore
Of rocky and ice-bound Labrador;
Collies, expert the flock to guard;
Hairy fellows from Saint Bernard;
Starveling curs that back lanes haunt;
Coach-dogs spotted, and wolf-dogs gaunt;
Greyhounds, pointers, setters, terriers,
Bulldogs, turnspits, spaniels, harriers,
Mastiffs, boarhounds, Eskemo,
Poodles, mongrels, beefhounds low;
Every dog of every kind,
Of every temper and every mind,
All engaged in the general row—
Snap, yelp, growl, ki-yi, bow-wow!
“The beggars have come to town—”
Some are low and some are high;
Some are blind in either eye;
Some are lame and some are sore;
Some just crawl from door to door;
Some on crutches and some with canes;
Some from alleys and some from lanes;
Some approach you with a whine;
Some with a testimonial line;
Some in a manner to make you shiver—
The style of a foot-pad—“Stand and deliver!”
Some with tales of suffering hoax you;
Some with subtle flattery coax you;
Some the iciest of mummers;
Some are warm as eighteen summers;
Some are sober; some are bummers;
Some with mute solicitation,
Some with loud vociferation,
Seek for your commiseration;
Some with well-feigned hesitation,
For your dole make application;
Some present their hats to hold
Your benefactions manifold;
And beg for money or beg for fame,
Beg for offices, beg for name,
Beg for currency, grub to purchase,
Beg for checks, to build up churches,
Beg for attention to their capers,
Beg for a puff in the morning papers,
Beg for a show for buccaneering,
Beg for a chance for patient hearing,
Beg for anything, everything, nothing,
From a million in gold to cast-off clothing,
For a chew of tobacco, a glass of gin,
A trotting horse and a diamond pin,
A country farm and a city garden;
And now and then they beg—your pardon.
Some are blind in either eye;
470
Some just crawl from door to door;
Some on crutches and some with canes;
Some from alleys and some from lanes;
Some approach you with a whine;
Some with a testimonial line;
Some in a manner to make you shiver—
The style of a foot-pad—“Stand and deliver!”
Some with tales of suffering hoax you;
Some with subtle flattery coax you;
Some the iciest of mummers;
Some are warm as eighteen summers;
Some are sober; some are bummers;
Some with mute solicitation,
Some with loud vociferation,
Seek for your commiseration;
Some with well-feigned hesitation,
For your dole make application;
Some present their hats to hold
Your benefactions manifold;
And beg for money or beg for fame,
Beg for offices, beg for name,
Beg for currency, grub to purchase,
Beg for checks, to build up churches,
Beg for attention to their capers,
Beg for a puff in the morning papers,
Beg for a show for buccaneering,
Beg for a chance for patient hearing,
Beg for anything, everything, nothing,
From a million in gold to cast-off clothing,
For a chew of tobacco, a glass of gin,
A trotting horse and a diamond pin,
A country farm and a city garden;
And now and then they beg—your pardon.
“Some in rags, and some in tags,”
471
Some with darns and some with patches,
Socks not mates, and gloves not matches;
Boots whose leather redly shows out,
Brogans ripped, and shoes with toes out,
Hats with broad brims, hats with small rims,
Hats again with not-at-all rims,
High hats, flat hats, hats with low crowns,
Hats with bell-crowns, hats with no crowns;
Coats as varied as that of Joseph,
Coats whose color no one knows of;
Coats with swallow-tails, coats with bob-tails,
Coats with skew-tails, coats with lob-tails,
Easy coats, greasy coats, great-coats, show-coats,
Jackets, warmuses, then again, no coats;
Trowsers narrow and trowsers wide,
Darned and patched and pinned and tied,
Trowsers thrown on rather than put on,
With a string for brace and a skewer for button;
Shirts with the dirt of a twelvemonth worn in,
But mostly the shirt the beggar was born in;
Some close-capped and others with head bare;
Ragged and rent and worn and thread-bare,
And looking as though they had joined to fill
A contract for stock with a paper-mill.
Socks not mates, and gloves not matches;
Boots whose leather redly shows out,
Brogans ripped, and shoes with toes out,
Hats with broad brims, hats with small rims,
Hats again with not-at-all rims,
High hats, flat hats, hats with low crowns,
Hats with bell-crowns, hats with no crowns;
Coats as varied as that of Joseph,
Coats whose color no one knows of;
Coats with swallow-tails, coats with bob-tails,
Coats with skew-tails, coats with lob-tails,
Easy coats, greasy coats, great-coats, show-coats,
Jackets, warmuses, then again, no coats;
Trowsers narrow and trowsers wide,
Darned and patched and pinned and tied,
Trowsers thrown on rather than put on,
With a string for brace and a skewer for button;
Shirts with the dirt of a twelvemonth worn in,
But mostly the shirt the beggar was born in;
Some close-capped and others with head bare;
Ragged and rent and worn and thread-bare,
And looking as though they had joined to fill
A contract for stock with a paper-mill.
“And some in velvet gowns.”
Those are the fellows who beg the first,
And beg the hardest, and beg the worst:—
Brokers who beg your cash for “a margin,”
With profit at naught, and a very huge charge in;
Mining fellows with melting-pots;
Speculators in water-lots;
Smooth-faced gentlemen, high in station,
Ready to point to an “operation”;
Seedy writers who have an infernal
Project of starting a daily journal;
Politicians, who beg you to run
For place in a race that can't be won;
Lawyers ready your weal to show
In a case that speedily proves your woe;
And a host of such in the begging line
Arrayed in purple and linen fine;
All worse than the locusts born to harrow
The souls of the serfs of the mighty Pharaoh;
And so persistent in striking your purse,
And begging the cost of their plans to disburse,
That you wish, losing feeling and temper and ruth,
The tale of Aktaion to-day was a truth,
And the dogs that barked when they came to town
Would tear them in pieces, and gobble them down.
And beg the hardest, and beg the worst:—
Brokers who beg your cash for “a margin,”
With profit at naught, and a very huge charge in;
Mining fellows with melting-pots;
Speculators in water-lots;
472
Ready to point to an “operation”;
Seedy writers who have an infernal
Project of starting a daily journal;
Politicians, who beg you to run
For place in a race that can't be won;
Lawyers ready your weal to show
In a case that speedily proves your woe;
And a host of such in the begging line
Arrayed in purple and linen fine;
All worse than the locusts born to harrow
The souls of the serfs of the mighty Pharaoh;
And so persistent in striking your purse,
And begging the cost of their plans to disburse,
That you wish, losing feeling and temper and ruth,
The tale of Aktaion to-day was a truth,
And the dogs that barked when they came to town
Would tear them in pieces, and gobble them down.
THE STORY OF ARION.
NEWLY TRANSLATED FROM THE HIGH OLD GREEK.
Arion of Lesbos, who played on the banjo,
Likewise sang tenor, went off to a Saengerfest
Got up in Thrinikia by the Germans—
(Gay folk and thrifty).
Likewise sang tenor, went off to a Saengerfest
Got up in Thrinikia by the Germans—
(Gay folk and thrifty).
There he partook of the beer of Bavaria,
Limburger fragrant, and teeth-testing pretzels;
Won all their hearts, and obtained a gold medal—
(Gold stood at 50).
Limburger fragrant, and teeth-testing pretzels;
Won all their hearts, and obtained a gold medal—
(Gold stood at 50).
473
Not alone that was his guerdon: of greenbacks,
Each with a C on, he hived a huge sack-full;
Presents so many, their number in speeches
Senator S. quotes—
Each with a C on, he hived a huge sack-full;
Presents so many, their number in speeches
Senator S. quotes—
More than ten thousand Partajas in boxes—
Duty paid up, and no end of gold watches;
Sinister, a horse that could go in 2.20;
Claw-hammer dress-coats;
Duty paid up, and no end of gold watches;
Sinister, a horse that could go in 2.20;
Claw-hammer dress-coats;
Four brown-stone fronts in the town of Methumna;
Sewing-machines, apple-peelers and meerschaums;
Four casks of Bourbon, and two of peach-brandy—
(Strong drinks he went on);
Sewing-machines, apple-peelers and meerschaums;
Four casks of Bourbon, and two of peach-brandy—
(Strong drinks he went on);
Ten silver tea-sets, and twenty ice-pitchers;
Four Buckeye mowers; a black-and-tan terrier;
Also a billiard-cue, tipped with a diamond
Worth a talenton.
Four Buckeye mowers; a black-and-tan terrier;
Also a billiard-cue, tipped with a diamond
Worth a talenton.
Having so much the great player was forced to
Charter, to carry his many possessions,
Nothes, an oyster-smack, sailed by Kratippos,
Owner and master.
Charter, to carry his many possessions,
Nothes, an oyster-smack, sailed by Kratippos,
Owner and master.
This was to take him in haste to Korinthos,
Which it could well do, since none of the yachts there,
In the Olumpian regatta contending,
Ever sailed faster.
Which it could well do, since none of the yachts there,
In the Olumpian regatta contending,
Ever sailed faster.
Captain Kratippos, he longed for that cargo,
And with his men, Parmenon and Kometes,
Made an agreement to pitch poor Arion
Out to the fishes.
And with his men, Parmenon and Kometes,
Made an agreement to pitch poor Arion
Out to the fishes.
474
So scarce a league had they sailed on their voyage,
Ere this vile trio informed the gay singer,
He must depart to the dark realm of Aides,
Mauger his wishes.
Ere this vile trio informed the gay singer,
He must depart to the dark realm of Aides,
Mauger his wishes.
Cool as a cucumber then was the minstrel;
All that he craved was their ke-yind permission
One little break-down to pick on the banjo—
(So runs the story.)
All that he craved was their ke-yind permission
One little break-down to pick on the banjo—
(So runs the story.)
And as they listened his nimble ten fingers
Danced on the strings till they cried in amazement—
Ιιζα βουλιβοι, βοι ουιθ' αγλασει—
Ω υνκιδωρι.
Danced on the strings till they cried in amazement—
Ιιζα βουλιβοι, βοι ουιθ' αγλασει—
Ω υνκιδωρι.
When he had finished, he walked to the quarter,
Banjo in hand, and went merrily over,
Diving down, down, derry down, to the bottom,
Quite disappearing.
Banjo in hand, and went merrily over,
Diving down, down, derry down, to the bottom,
Quite disappearing.
Thinking their man gone to Aides with Hermes,
Hurried the rogues in their greed to the cabin,
Where they cast lots for their choice of the plunder,
All the while jeering.
Hurried the rogues in their greed to the cabin,
Where they cast lots for their choice of the plunder,
All the while jeering.
But an art-loving, benevolent dolphin,
Sent by Poseidon to specially aid him,
Carried the bard off to Tainoron swiftly,
On its back mounted,
Sent by Poseidon to specially aid him,
Carried the bard off to Tainoron swiftly,
On its back mounted,
Where when he landed he first took his breakfast,
Then took the six o'clock train for Korinthos,
And to his crony, the king Periandros,
All this recounted.
Then took the six o'clock train for Korinthos,
And to his crony, the king Periandros,
All this recounted.
Wroth was his majesty at the recital:
Swearing by Stux he would punish the varlets;
Sent for the Chief of Police in a hurry—
Dionkenedios—
Swearing by Stux he would punish the varlets;
475
Dionkenedios—
Thus to him saying:—“When comes here the Nothes,
Seize on Kratippos and both of his sailors;
Bring them before us for justice, or never
Come back to see us.”
Seize on Kratippos and both of his sailors;
Bring them before us for justice, or never
Come back to see us.”
So when the vessel came home in a fortnight,
Off went policeman 940,
Who with 2,750,
Caught the offenders.
Off went policeman 940,
Who with 2,750,
Caught the offenders.
They were all tried, and—the spring being over—
In a most summary manner; the seamen
Sent off to Sing-Sing—Kratippos, he hanged himself
With his suspenders.
In a most summary manner; the seamen
Sent off to Sing-Sing—Kratippos, he hanged himself
With his suspenders.
So the musician recovered his riches,
And for a week, with his friend Periandros,
Wènt on a spree, for he thought the occasion
One to get high on.
And for a week, with his friend Periandros,
Wènt on a spree, for he thought the occasion
One to get high on.
As for the dolphin, it met with misfortune—
As it went back a great shark bit its tail off:
That was the tail of the dolphin; this is the
Tale of Arion.
As it went back a great shark bit its tail off:
That was the tail of the dolphin; this is the
Tale of Arion.
BRANT'S TAIL.
“If Brant, our puppy, continues to grow,
What will he be in a year or so?”
That's what my little boy wanted to know.
What will he be in a year or so?”
That's what my little boy wanted to know.
476
Four months old and four feet long,
Gaunt but brawny, and broad and strong,
With a bay like the roar of a China gong.
Gaunt but brawny, and broad and strong,
With a bay like the roar of a China gong.
Four months since when he came to the place,
No promise of size could any one trace—
In length six inches, and most of him face.
No promise of size could any one trace—
In length six inches, and most of him face.
So the little boy, “wanted to know, you know,”
If at that rate he'd continue to grow;
And I answered, “Yes, for a year or so.”
If at that rate he'd continue to grow;
And I answered, “Yes, for a year or so.”
“And what is the ‘so’?” “Four months, about;
And then you'll find him strong and stout,
With his power of growth quite given out.”
And then you'll find him strong and stout,
With his power of growth quite given out.”
The little fellow, before he would sup,
Took slate and pencil and ciphered it up—
The probable growth of that wonderful pup.
Took slate and pencil and ciphered it up—
The probable growth of that wonderful pup.
He worked it out by the rule of three,
And he brought the figures straight to me,
And they seemed as plain as plain could be.
And he brought the figures straight to me,
And they seemed as plain as plain could be.
“Thirty-two feet in four months more,
And eight times that in another four,
And eight times that when the year is o'er.
And eight times that in another four,
And eight times that when the year is o'er.
“And eight times when four more have past,”
The dog might be accounted vast,
Enormous, huge, and unsurpassed.
The dog might be accounted vast,
Enormous, huge, and unsurpassed.
The boy, by calculation, found
That Brant, when sixteen months came round,
Would shade ten acres, or more, of ground.
That Brant, when sixteen months came round,
Would shade ten acres, or more, of ground.
477
And the little fellow grew scared and pale,
And vented his terror in a wail,
When he thought of three hundred yards of tail.
And vented his terror in a wail,
When he thought of three hundred yards of tail.
Then I thought to myself as I scanned the “sum,”
What a high old time, if it wasn't a hum,
In the scientific world to come.
What a high old time, if it wasn't a hum,
In the scientific world to come.
In a thousand years the tempests pluvial,
In spite of your wondrous works may move ye all,
And cover the land with a soil alluvial.
In spite of your wondrous works may move ye all,
And cover the land with a soil alluvial.
And then some student of that day's Yale,
Blasting on mountain, or digging in dale,
May come on the bones of that buried tail.
Blasting on mountain, or digging in dale,
May come on the bones of that buried tail.
And then he'll call some learned professor—
Agassiz, or Buckland, his successor—
And the greater 'll confab with the lesser.
Agassiz, or Buckland, his successor—
And the greater 'll confab with the lesser.
And then, for the palpable reason, d'ye see,
That men of science can never agree,
They'll call another to umpire be.
That men of science can never agree,
They'll call another to umpire be.
He'll come, look grave, and nothing loth
He'll listen, and then he'll make them wroth
By disagreeing a little with both.
He'll listen, and then he'll make them wroth
By disagreeing a little with both.
And one will say it's a lizard dead,
And one declare it's a snake instead,
And the last will ask them where's its head;
And one declare it's a snake instead,
And the last will ask them where's its head;
Then the men of science 'll feel go through 'em
A shock when reporters keen pursue 'em,
Twenty to each, to interview 'em.
A shock when reporters keen pursue 'em,
Twenty to each, to interview 'em.
478
And the scientific world will shake
With the pother the scientists all will make
As to whether these bones are eel or snake;
With the pother the scientists all will make
As to whether these bones are eel or snake;
And then the ink will begin to fly,
And innuendoes sharp and sly,
And each will tell the other they lie;
And innuendoes sharp and sly,
And each will tell the other they lie;
And the dailies will use—it's what they are for—
Those bitter words the weak abhor,
And they'll call the strife “The Big Bone War.”
Those bitter words the weak abhor,
And they'll call the strife “The Big Bone War.”
And all the naturalists will fail
To discover these osseous fragments frail
Are only the bones of our dog Brant's tail.
To discover these osseous fragments frail
Are only the bones of our dog Brant's tail.
THE IRON-BARRED PHILOSOPHER.
While rummaging on yesterday within a lumber closet,
Which for a year had been a place of general deposit,
Where various odds and ends that will accumulate in households,
Had been together thrown to make nice vermin-dens and mouse-holes,
Amid the heterogeneous mass whose uses once could none bar,
I found a rusted gridiron, which had lost three legs and one bar.
Which for a year had been a place of general deposit,
Where various odds and ends that will accumulate in households,
Had been together thrown to make nice vermin-dens and mouse-holes,
Amid the heterogeneous mass whose uses once could none bar,
I found a rusted gridiron, which had lost three legs and one bar.
Now there is naught in such a thing, in general, to recall to
The mind the past, or furnish one a metal feast to fall to;
But with this worn-out implement there were associations,
To wake the sense of pleasant hours and pleasanter sensations;
And memory running gaily in, without my having sought it,
Recalled the poor thing's history from the day that I had bought it.
The mind the past, or furnish one a metal feast to fall to;
But with this worn-out implement there were associations,
To wake the sense of pleasant hours and pleasanter sensations;
479
Recalled the poor thing's history from the day that I had bought it.
And then I thought of steaks it cooked, of juicy chops and tender,
Of young spring chickens unto which all appetites surrender;
And deep remorse within me rose to think that this utensil,
Which oft had ministered to me had met with recompense ill;
When to my great surprise—so much, a child could me have knocked o'er—
It winked the eye in its handle, saying—“Listen to me, Doctor!”
Of young spring chickens unto which all appetites surrender;
And deep remorse within me rose to think that this utensil,
Which oft had ministered to me had met with recompense ill;
When to my great surprise—so much, a child could me have knocked o'er—
It winked the eye in its handle, saying—“Listen to me, Doctor!”
I'd heard of Balaam's ass who spoke; of swans who sang when dying;
Of fish, in the Arabian tales, who spoke when they were frying—
(Or, being fried, whiche'er you choose) of Memnon's vocal statue;
Of frogs, who, pelted with a stone, would fling reproving at you;
Of Friar Bacon's brazen head, whose words struck foes of his dumb;
But never thought a gridiron would attempt to teach me wisdom.
Of fish, in the Arabian tales, who spoke when they were frying—
(Or, being fried, whiche'er you choose) of Memnon's vocal statue;
Of frogs, who, pelted with a stone, would fling reproving at you;
Of Friar Bacon's brazen head, whose words struck foes of his dumb;
But never thought a gridiron would attempt to teach me wisdom.
“You write, my friend, to please the mob,” my interlocutor said—
And as he spoke he shook his bars, and winked his eye aforesaid—
“The mob is your proprietor and cooks some mental diet
Upon the bars of your intellect; but you gain nothing by it.
The mob it polishes with rubs, whene'er it wants to use you,
Then hauls you roughly o'er the coals, to burn and to abuse you.
And as he spoke he shook his bars, and winked his eye aforesaid—
“The mob is your proprietor and cooks some mental diet
Upon the bars of your intellect; but you gain nothing by it.
480
Then hauls you roughly o'er the coals, to burn and to abuse you.
“You think you're honored by the use, but there you'll change ideas—
This gridiron thought so once, but now a different notion he has—
You'll find when you are worn so much, your bars won't hold the juices
Which force themselves from out the food you cook for others' uses,
Though you, perchance, have furnished it good things in countless number,
The mob will throw you scornfully, among a heap of lumber.
This gridiron thought so once, but now a different notion he has—
You'll find when you are worn so much, your bars won't hold the juices
Which force themselves from out the food you cook for others' uses,
Though you, perchance, have furnished it good things in countless number,
The mob will throw you scornfully, among a heap of lumber.
“I know you have a living hope to do mankind some service,
And think to work in spite of foes, best way to show your nerve is;
That still you have ambition; you are proud to let each man see
You cook the steaks of argument and mutton-chops of fancy.
But, never mind! experience will do more than all my speeches,
Though, like the olden pedagogues, it birches while it teaches.
And think to work in spite of foes, best way to show your nerve is;
That still you have ambition; you are proud to let each man see
You cook the steaks of argument and mutton-chops of fancy.
But, never mind! experience will do more than all my speeches,
Though, like the olden pedagogues, it birches while it teaches.
“Be good and you'll be happy!” here the gridiron seemed to stutter,
And lose the thread of argument; but next I heard him mutter—
“One thing I must insist upon, however hot your life is,
The woes assailing out of doors, don't bring them where your wife is.
Domestic broils are terrible things, whoever first begun them;
You see how they have burned me up, and therefore do you shun them.”
And lose the thread of argument; but next I heard him mutter—
“One thing I must insist upon, however hot your life is,
The woes assailing out of doors, don't bring them where your wife is.
481
You see how they have burned me up, and therefore do you shun them.”
He didn't say another word—the reason why was puzzling;
'Twas certainly no fear of me which utterance was muzzling;
But, to a bottle on a shelf, half hidden with the dirt, he
Pointed; 'twas labelled “Gin,” and dated—“Eighteen hundred and thirty;”
'Twas nearly empty;—more his words, if that had been about less;
But as it stood, some one was drunk—it was the gridiron doubtless.
'Twas certainly no fear of me which utterance was muzzling;
But, to a bottle on a shelf, half hidden with the dirt, he
Pointed; 'twas labelled “Gin,” and dated—“Eighteen hundred and thirty;”
'Twas nearly empty;—more his words, if that had been about less;
But as it stood, some one was drunk—it was the gridiron doubtless.
JES SO.
No worthier man in our village is found
Than Bigg Bellows, the blacksmith, and few are as sound;
Though little he knows of the lore of the schools,
He knows and he follows good Scriptural rules;
But he has a queer habit of saying, “Jes so!”
Which he not alone uses for yes and for no,
But the way which he brings the two syllables out
Expresses displeasure, or scorn, or a doubt.
Than Bigg Bellows, the blacksmith, and few are as sound;
Though little he knows of the lore of the schools,
He knows and he follows good Scriptural rules;
But he has a queer habit of saying, “Jes so!”
Which he not alone uses for yes and for no,
But the way which he brings the two syllables out
Expresses displeasure, or scorn, or a doubt.
In the smithy to-day, I observed that he stood
At the hour of high noon in a cynical mood,
Apart from the others, the anvil-block near,
The talk of the neighbors around him to hear
About an apostle of truth and reform,
Who had taken the people last evening by storm,
While Harde Stryker, who handled the sledge-hammer well,
Gave the fine pearls of thought from the stranger that fell.
At the hour of high noon in a cynical mood,
Apart from the others, the anvil-block near,
The talk of the neighbors around him to hear
About an apostle of truth and reform,
Who had taken the people last evening by storm,
While Harde Stryker, who handled the sledge-hammer well,
Gave the fine pearls of thought from the stranger that fell.
482
Bigg Bellows, he listened a moment, then said,
“His notions, somehow, I can't get in my head.”
And Stryker replied: “Well, the nub of them's this—
Society's all been created amiss,
And a number of very intelligent men
Want to take it to pieces and make it again.”
“I see,” said the blacksmith, his face in a glow;
“To hammer it out to their notion. Jes so!”
“His notions, somehow, I can't get in my head.”
And Stryker replied: “Well, the nub of them's this—
Society's all been created amiss,
And a number of very intelligent men
Want to take it to pieces and make it again.”
“I see,” said the blacksmith, his face in a glow;
“To hammer it out to their notion. Jes so!”
“There's money enough,” Stryker said, “and to spare,
But the thing isn't somehow distributed fair;
One man draws his millions in interest and rent,
While ten thousand round him are not worth a cent.
So their plan is to kill all the wealthier men,
And apportion the capital fairly again.”
Cried Bigg, in astonishment: “I want to know!
Right things by some cold-blooded murder! Jes so!”
But the thing isn't somehow distributed fair;
One man draws his millions in interest and rent,
While ten thousand round him are not worth a cent.
So their plan is to kill all the wealthier men,
And apportion the capital fairly again.”
Cried Bigg, in astonishment: “I want to know!
Right things by some cold-blooded murder! Jes so!”
“As all men are equal, the orator says,
Whatever the nature of each or his ways,
Food, clothing, and shelter are all that we need,
And none in such things should another exceed.
The Commune will see the division is fair,
And that each gets the same thing exact to a hair.”
“And whether he's idle,” said Bellows, “or no,
He'll get what his neighbor is getting. Jes so!”
Whatever the nature of each or his ways,
Food, clothing, and shelter are all that we need,
And none in such things should another exceed.
The Commune will see the division is fair,
And that each gets the same thing exact to a hair.”
“And whether he's idle,” said Bellows, “or no,
He'll get what his neighbor is getting. Jes so!”
“To see the division is equal and just,
To a special committee they'll give it in trust;
As its members are named by the general voice,
Mere agents they'll be of the people's own choice;
And no bonds be required of them funds to secure,
For each will be honest because he is poor.”
“Into office,” said Bellows, “right poor they may go,
But when they come out of it—boodle. Jes so!”
To a special committee they'll give it in trust;
As its members are named by the general voice,
Mere agents they'll be of the people's own choice;
And no bonds be required of them funds to secure,
For each will be honest because he is poor.”
“Into office,” said Bellows, “right poor they may go,
But when they come out of it—boodle. Jes so!”
483
“The troubles of family life they will ban;
No crotchety rules will encumber a man;
Affection which comes as a matter of fate
Shall never be chilled by the cold married state;
We'll get rid of divorces and quarrels at least,
Since no knot will be tied by the judge or the priest.”
“Rather primitive manners,” said Bellows, “although
I don't think the redskins would do it. Jes so!”
No crotchety rules will encumber a man;
Affection which comes as a matter of fate
Shall never be chilled by the cold married state;
We'll get rid of divorces and quarrels at least,
Since no knot will be tied by the judge or the priest.”
“Rather primitive manners,” said Bellows, “although
I don't think the redskins would do it. Jes so!”
“And the churches,” said Stryker—“Oh, that is enough,”
Quoth Bigg, “of your orator's pestilent stuff.
Man fashions society; this is a plan
To have the society fashion the man.
From the world wipe all personal enterprise keen,
And every one change to a servile machine;
But every one likes his own bellows to blow
As well as the blower you quote from. Jes so!
Quoth Bigg, “of your orator's pestilent stuff.
Man fashions society; this is a plan
To have the society fashion the man.
From the world wipe all personal enterprise keen,
And every one change to a servile machine;
But every one likes his own bellows to blow
As well as the blower you quote from. Jes so!
“‘Man's in the community.’ Yes, that I know,
And has duties to others around him. Jes so!
‘We should help the weak brother as onward we go,
And not be too grasping and selfish.’ Jes so!
But a man in the field, who must hoe his own row,
Would handle his hoe as he pleases. Jes so!
Try to limit his efforts, he'll answer you, ‘No!
I'm a man! independent! I'll keep so.’ Jes so!”
And has duties to others around him. Jes so!
‘We should help the weak brother as onward we go,
And not be too grasping and selfish.’ Jes so!
But a man in the field, who must hoe his own row,
Would handle his hoe as he pleases. Jes so!
Try to limit his efforts, he'll answer you, ‘No!
I'm a man! independent! I'll keep so.’ Jes so!”
KING DEATH'S DECISION.
King Death one day, while quaffing from a chalice
Made of a human skull, his jet-black wine,
Quoth in a jeering tone—“In this my palace,
I wonder who, of all these friends of mine
Does me most service?
Made of a human skull, his jet-black wine,
Quoth in a jeering tone—“In this my palace,
I wonder who, of all these friends of mine
Does me most service?
484
Then spake out Fever, with his red eyes glaring,
And his pulse beating with a hurried throb—
“Sire, 'twere an outrage past a spirit's bearing,
Did any one an effort make to rob
Me of that honor?
And his pulse beating with a hurried throb—
“Sire, 'twere an outrage past a spirit's bearing,
Did any one an effort make to rob
Me of that honor?
“For I evoke the poisonous exhalations
From base to attic in the tenement den,
Lurk underneath the tropic vegetation,
And from the surface of the western fen
Scatter malaria.
From base to attic in the tenement den,
Lurk underneath the tropic vegetation,
And from the surface of the western fen
Scatter malaria.
“Whatever part may be to me allotted;
Whatever name they give me as they run—
Enteric, Yellow, Typhus, Dengue, or Spotted—
You always find my work so surely done
That none escape me.
Whatever name they give me as they run—
Enteric, Yellow, Typhus, Dengue, or Spotted—
You always find my work so surely done
That none escape me.
“And for this service rendered, whatsoever
The rest may boast, their merits though I own,
I claim as meed of a sustained endeavor,
To stand at least the nearest to the throne
Of my great master.”
The rest may boast, their merits though I own,
I claim as meed of a sustained endeavor,
To stand at least the nearest to the throne
Of my great master.”
Then War arose, and, as his accents thund'red,
The other spirits shuddered in their fear—
“I have,” he cried, “in one day slain a hundred
For every one he slays within a year—
Let him be silent!”
The other spirits shuddered in their fear—
“I have,” he cried, “in one day slain a hundred
For every one he slays within a year—
Let him be silent!”
Now Famine spake. “My liege, my work though slower
Than some has been, was surely done, and well;
And that my victims are in sense no lower
Than those of others here, let figures tell—
And figures lie not.
Than some has been, was surely done, and well;
And that my victims are in sense no lower
Than those of others here, let figures tell—
And figures lie not.
485
“Let those who doubt seek some beleaguered city,
Or the wide fields where drought the corn-ear smites.
Where starving wretches have nor fear nor pity,
Where hunger's pang all natural feeling blights,
And men grow demons.”
Or the wide fields where drought the corn-ear smites.
Where starving wretches have nor fear nor pity,
Where hunger's pang all natural feeling blights,
And men grow demons.”
Then Plague exclaimed—“I ask all boldly whether
I have not slain, and suddenly, far more
Than Fever, War, and Famine put together,
Let my name then on Honor's pinions soar,
First of your nobles.”
I have not slain, and suddenly, far more
Than Fever, War, and Famine put together,
Let my name then on Honor's pinions soar,
First of your nobles.”
Murther, indignant, while the dark blood spouted,
Even as he spake, from some new victim's vein,
Cried—“I your eldest courtier am undoubted;
I was your servant in the days of Cain;
I gave your empire!
Even as he spake, from some new victim's vein,
Cried—“I your eldest courtier am undoubted;
I was your servant in the days of Cain;
I gave your empire!
“I found grim Death a shadow, fixed the rover,
And this broad realm I gave him mastery o'er,
A sway that shall not fail till all be over,
And the world end, and time shall be no more,
And God give judgment.”
And this broad realm I gave him mastery o'er,
A sway that shall not fail till all be over,
And the world end, and time shall be no more,
And God give judgment.”
King Death, who still is just, had gone no further
To seek the chiefest of his servants there,
But given the place of honor unto Murther,
Had not arisen, with stern and solemn air,
A terrible spirit.
To seek the chiefest of his servants there,
But given the place of honor unto Murther,
Had not arisen, with stern and solemn air,
A terrible spirit.
“I am,” it said, “Railway Assassination;
All these are weakling fiends compared to me;
I lie concealed at every railway station;
I break up wheels, and often pleasantly
I misturn switches.
All these are weakling fiends compared to me;
I lie concealed at every railway station;
I break up wheels, and often pleasantly
I misturn switches.
486
“When through the mountain gorges swiftly sweeping
The iron horse goes rushing on his trail,
I lie in wait, and, in his pathway creeping,
I stay his progress with a broken rail,
Hurling him headlong.
The iron horse goes rushing on his trail,
I lie in wait, and, in his pathway creeping,
I stay his progress with a broken rail,
Hurling him headlong.
“Those who have 'scaped from Famine, War, and Fever,
Whom Murther's knife hath never reached at all,
Though life woo sweetly, they are forced to leave her,
And lay their soulless corpses at my call,
Mangled and ghastly.
Whom Murther's knife hath never reached at all,
Though life woo sweetly, they are forced to leave her,
And lay their soulless corpses at my call,
Mangled and ghastly.
“'Tis true that Vigilance and Care might slay me—
I have no fear of those—they cost too much;
So let the rest a fitting homage pay me;
And judge thou, sire, if aught too great I clutch
In grasping honor!”
I have no fear of those—they cost too much;
So let the rest a fitting homage pay me;
And judge thou, sire, if aught too great I clutch
In grasping honor!”
Then Death arising, said—“Not 'mid my dearest
And trusted counsellors thy place alone;
But, to my person and my state the nearest,
Thy place is here, beside me on my throne,
Co-King and brother!”
And trusted counsellors thy place alone;
But, to my person and my state the nearest,
Thy place is here, beside me on my throne,
Co-King and brother!”
The two embraced. Death's bony back was to me;
But well enough I saw the other's face:
And, as I marked its outlines hard and gloomy,
A startling likeness I could clearly trace,
To whom I say not.
But well enough I saw the other's face:
And, as I marked its outlines hard and gloomy,
A startling likeness I could clearly trace,
To whom I say not.
487
THE BROKER'S STORY.
My parents held a high position,
And I of course was highly born;
'Twas on the first floor—down the chimney,
I saw the light one winter morn.
Blankets were scarce, and coal was scarcer—
There was no fire in the room, d'ye see;
So father's coat—his best—in tatters,
Was used to make a quilt for me.
And I of course was highly born;
'Twas on the first floor—down the chimney,
I saw the light one winter morn.
Blankets were scarce, and coal was scarcer—
There was no fire in the room, d'ye see;
So father's coat—his best—in tatters,
Was used to make a quilt for me.
My mother was a washerwoman—
I beg your pardon for the word—
A washer-lady (woman, quotha!
That term has grown to be absurd.)
She toiled alone—my sire a drunkard—
The rent to pay and bread to win;
She suckled me in want and sorrow,
And fed me well on milk and gin.
I beg your pardon for the word—
A washer-lady (woman, quotha!
That term has grown to be absurd.)
She toiled alone—my sire a drunkard—
The rent to pay and bread to win;
She suckled me in want and sorrow,
And fed me well on milk and gin.
A child, through streets and lanes I wandered,
And inch by inch I fought my way,
An orphan, for my worthy father,
They fished him from the docks one day.
But as a son I was a model,
To copy which no boy could err;
A pious son who loved his mother—
Whate'er I stole I gave to her.
And inch by inch I fought my way,
An orphan, for my worthy father,
They fished him from the docks one day.
But as a son I was a model,
To copy which no boy could err;
A pious son who loved his mother—
Whate'er I stole I gave to her.
Escaping as I grew the Sessions,
And constables, and jails, and courts,
Soon of a gang I was the leader,
Looked up to in their fights and sports;
To manhood grown, controlled elections.
A master of the rounder's trade,
Led to the polls my skilled repeaters,
And Congressmen and Judges made.
And constables, and jails, and courts,
Soon of a gang I was the leader,
Looked up to in their fights and sports;
488
A master of the rounder's trade,
Led to the polls my skilled repeaters,
And Congressmen and Judges made.
Soon to an office in the customs,
Lord of the ward, I found my way;
A useful man among the merchants,
And worth the keen importer's pay;
There of my salary every dollar
Got multiplied by ten somehow—
The guerdon of my honest labor,
It seems to me a pittance now.
Lord of the ward, I found my way;
A useful man among the merchants,
And worth the keen importer's pay;
There of my salary every dollar
Got multiplied by ten somehow—
The guerdon of my honest labor,
It seems to me a pittance now.
Soon with my little well-earned money,
I bade the Custom House farewell;
On Wall street turned a curbstone broker,
And stocks began to buy and sell.
There fortune followed as my servant;
And as a bull beginning there,
Upon my horns for half a million
A score of bruins tossed in air.
I bade the Custom House farewell;
On Wall street turned a curbstone broker,
And stocks began to buy and sell.
There fortune followed as my servant;
And as a bull beginning there,
Upon my horns for half a million
A score of bruins tossed in air.
Henceforward what I touched was gilded—
At puts and calls expert was I;
The price of stocks at will I handled,
And sunk it low, or flung it high;
Till, what with honesty and virtue
And industry and pious cares,
My life of patient toil rewarded,
I stood among the millionaires.
At puts and calls expert was I;
The price of stocks at will I handled,
And sunk it low, or flung it high;
Till, what with honesty and virtue
And industry and pious cares,
My life of patient toil rewarded,
I stood among the millionaires.
Now in an up-town brownstone palace,
With lackeys smug I take my ease;
On Sundays on a velvet cushion
In church I get upon my knees.
A vestryman—I'll be a warden
Ere Easter week has floated by;
On earth be deemed of saintly savor,
And soar to heaven when I die.
With lackeys smug I take my ease;
On Sundays on a velvet cushion
In church I get upon my knees.
489
Ere Easter week has floated by;
On earth be deemed of saintly savor,
And soar to heaven when I die.
THE FATAL CUP.
Each nerve thrills within me with sharp apprehension,
My brain-strings are drawn to their uttermost tension,
And my heart flutters painful as though it would break,
When I see some incautious teetotaller take
And recklessly swallow, apparently suited,
A huge draught of water, and that undiluted.
'Tis not but cold water is excellent when
It is kept in its place, like a bull in a pen—
Good when it comes from the heavens in rain,
Good when in mist it goes upward again,
Good for the meadows to freshen their green,
Good in the laundry where linen they clean;
Good for all fish, and convenient to swim in;
Good in the tea-pot of tattling old women;
Good in the rivulet frolicking free,
Better in rivers, and best in the sea;
Good for all purposes fitting, I think;
But not a good liquor for people to drink;
And, as its vile history sadly I trace,
And its evil effects as the scourge of our race,
I cry—“Ah! no water—no water for me,
It may do for the tremulous, old debauchee
Who, having got tipsy last night after supper,
Must have it this morning to cool his hot copper;
A small glass of whiskey (old Blue Grass) for me,
And water bestow on the old debauchee!”
My brain-strings are drawn to their uttermost tension,
And my heart flutters painful as though it would break,
When I see some incautious teetotaller take
And recklessly swallow, apparently suited,
A huge draught of water, and that undiluted.
'Tis not but cold water is excellent when
It is kept in its place, like a bull in a pen—
Good when it comes from the heavens in rain,
Good when in mist it goes upward again,
Good for the meadows to freshen their green,
Good in the laundry where linen they clean;
Good for all fish, and convenient to swim in;
Good in the tea-pot of tattling old women;
Good in the rivulet frolicking free,
Better in rivers, and best in the sea;
Good for all purposes fitting, I think;
But not a good liquor for people to drink;
And, as its vile history sadly I trace,
And its evil effects as the scourge of our race,
I cry—“Ah! no water—no water for me,
It may do for the tremulous, old debauchee
Who, having got tipsy last night after supper,
Must have it this morning to cool his hot copper;
A small glass of whiskey (old Blue Grass) for me,
And water bestow on the old debauchee!”
490
No particular horror of water I feel,
When placed in conjunction with soap of Castile,
For when properly used on the membrane external,
It never develops its nature infernal,
And no poison through pores to your system gets in,
If the liquid be carefully wiped from the skin;
'Tis its getting inside that such misery brings—
From drinking the stuff your unhappiness springs;
Anasarca it causes and kidney disease;
It softens the brain, and it weakens the knees;
It makes in the frame an anæmic condition,
Which grabs the poor patient and mocks the physician;
Gastrocnemial and cubital muscles it dwindles,
Till legs look like broomsticks and arms shrink to spindles;
The skin wilts and wrinkles, except when the dropsy
Swells the wretch like a bladder, and death brings autopsy;
The blood with no whiskey to keep up its color
Has its corpuscules whitened, its current made duller;
The water pernicious the chilled stomach filling,
And poured in amount on a membrane unwilling,
Debases the gastric juice so that it loses
All power to dissolve your best food in its oozes;
And therefore it follows, past cavil or question,
That drinking cold water creates indigestion;
And, since indigestion breeds crime and fierce quarrels,
This tippling cold water corrupts public morals.
When placed in conjunction with soap of Castile,
For when properly used on the membrane external,
It never develops its nature infernal,
And no poison through pores to your system gets in,
If the liquid be carefully wiped from the skin;
'Tis its getting inside that such misery brings—
From drinking the stuff your unhappiness springs;
Anasarca it causes and kidney disease;
It softens the brain, and it weakens the knees;
It makes in the frame an anæmic condition,
Which grabs the poor patient and mocks the physician;
Gastrocnemial and cubital muscles it dwindles,
Till legs look like broomsticks and arms shrink to spindles;
The skin wilts and wrinkles, except when the dropsy
Swells the wretch like a bladder, and death brings autopsy;
The blood with no whiskey to keep up its color
Has its corpuscules whitened, its current made duller;
The water pernicious the chilled stomach filling,
And poured in amount on a membrane unwilling,
Debases the gastric juice so that it loses
All power to dissolve your best food in its oozes;
And therefore it follows, past cavil or question,
That drinking cold water creates indigestion;
And, since indigestion breeds crime and fierce quarrels,
This tippling cold water corrupts public morals.
It might be less dangerous, that I admit,
If largely pure whiskey were mingled with it,
For in that way the force of the poison you'll foil;
But, consider—the whiskey you'd utterly spoil;
Besides, while the mixture tastes strangely and badly,
Water added to whiskey intoxicates sadly,
And perhaps in the end it might make you a sot,
Which the whiskey, unwatered, would certainly not.
I know there are some who, while owning the ills
The water-sot finds from his crime ere it kills,
Still think water harmless in moderate use—
Ah! nature is weak, and that leads to abuse.
It is perilous with the chained tiger to play;
Though lightning has never yet struck you, it may;
And he is the safer and healthier, I think,
Who totally abstains from all water as drink,
And is full of the thought that while making him sadder,
It bites like a serpent, and stings like an adder.
Neither taste, touch, nor handle the terrible thing;
For safety to whiskey and that only cling;
Eat the best of good victuals, and pat to the minute;
Take your liquor bare-headed, with no water in it;
And, to keep up your health, and promote your sobriety,
Sign the pledge of the Anti-Coldwater Society.
If largely pure whiskey were mingled with it,
For in that way the force of the poison you'll foil;
But, consider—the whiskey you'd utterly spoil;
Besides, while the mixture tastes strangely and badly,
Water added to whiskey intoxicates sadly,
And perhaps in the end it might make you a sot,
Which the whiskey, unwatered, would certainly not.
491
The water-sot finds from his crime ere it kills,
Still think water harmless in moderate use—
Ah! nature is weak, and that leads to abuse.
It is perilous with the chained tiger to play;
Though lightning has never yet struck you, it may;
And he is the safer and healthier, I think,
Who totally abstains from all water as drink,
And is full of the thought that while making him sadder,
It bites like a serpent, and stings like an adder.
Neither taste, touch, nor handle the terrible thing;
For safety to whiskey and that only cling;
Eat the best of good victuals, and pat to the minute;
Take your liquor bare-headed, with no water in it;
And, to keep up your health, and promote your sobriety,
Sign the pledge of the Anti-Coldwater Society.
WINE.
IN WHICH THE SUBJECT IS TREATED, AND NOT THE READER.
Wine! wine! wine!
Shall never be tipple of mine;
Let the poet with fire mock-divine,
Allured by its shimmer and shine,
Patter stuff on the juice from the Rhine,
On pure Verzenay,
Port, Sauterne, St. Peray,
Imperial Tokay,
Amber-hued Montillado,
Deep-tinted in shadow;
Wine from either chateau,
Of Lafitte or Margaux,
Purple Port, from the docks,
The entire tribe of Hocks,
Or any or all of these juices,
Perverting his powers to bad uses;
But I have no liking to follow
The wine-bibbing son of Apollo,
Whose metre erratic
And wit, often Attic,
Is pressed with a very bad taste
To a service both vile and debased.
Shall never be tipple of mine;
Let the poet with fire mock-divine,
Allured by its shimmer and shine,
Patter stuff on the juice from the Rhine,
On pure Verzenay,
Port, Sauterne, St. Peray,
Imperial Tokay,
Amber-hued Montillado,
Deep-tinted in shadow;
492
Of Lafitte or Margaux,
Purple Port, from the docks,
The entire tribe of Hocks,
Or any or all of these juices,
Perverting his powers to bad uses;
But I have no liking to follow
The wine-bibbing son of Apollo,
Whose metre erratic
And wit, often Attic,
Is pressed with a very bad taste
To a service both vile and debased.
Song! beautiful Song!
Whose rhythmical syllables throng
And hurry impulsive along,
In defence of the right and defiance of wrong,
My pleasure, my pride,
My treasure, my guide,
My soother, my bride,
My darling, my friend,
I am yours to the end;
And whatever the cares that oppress me,
Or whatever the woes that possess me,
They fly when you come to caress me.
Song, beautiful Song!
Shall I take you
And make you
A stagging, tipsy
And vacant-eye gipsy?
Shall I deaden your feeling,
And set you a-reeling,
And see you fall prone
In the kennel alone,
And lie there with mutter and hiccough,
For scorning policemen to pick up—
Shall I do you this terrible wrong,
My pure and my beautiful Song?
Whose rhythmical syllables throng
And hurry impulsive along,
In defence of the right and defiance of wrong,
My pleasure, my pride,
My treasure, my guide,
My soother, my bride,
My darling, my friend,
I am yours to the end;
And whatever the cares that oppress me,
Or whatever the woes that possess me,
They fly when you come to caress me.
Song, beautiful Song!
Shall I take you
And make you
A stagging, tipsy
And vacant-eye gipsy?
Shall I deaden your feeling,
And set you a-reeling,
And see you fall prone
In the kennel alone,
493
For scorning policemen to pick up—
Shall I do you this terrible wrong,
My pure and my beautiful Song?
Wine! infamous wine!
The chariot which carries you over the line,
Dividing man's nature from that of the swine;
Abridger of life,
And creator of strife,
In whose deeps there repose
The carbuncled nose,
Red eyes, muddled brains,
And a cargo of pains;
Raining rags on your back,
Till with scorn people note you,
And threatening attack
Of grim mania a-potu;
Author of wailing and pleading,
Maker of sorrow exceeding,
Foe to our daughters and wives,
Cause of our sons' shortened lives,
Bring to scorn and contumely,
Setting the mind brooding gloomily;
To-day bringing sorrow
And trouble and care,
To be followed to-morrow
By want and despair.
Dire are the evils that grow with the vine;
Black are the vices that flow with the wine,
That swim in the casks,
And sport in the flasks,
And leap from the bottles
Down men's thirsty throttles,
Turning manners and mind topsy-turvey,
Till their victims grow reckless and scurvy,
Careless of home and its quiet,
Given to tippling and riot,
Out-of-door swaggering
Home-to-bed staggering,
And, at last, when the revel is o'er,
The grave of a drunkard—thus much and no more.
The chariot which carries you over the line,
Dividing man's nature from that of the swine;
Abridger of life,
And creator of strife,
In whose deeps there repose
The carbuncled nose,
Red eyes, muddled brains,
And a cargo of pains;
Raining rags on your back,
Till with scorn people note you,
And threatening attack
Of grim mania a-potu;
Author of wailing and pleading,
Maker of sorrow exceeding,
Foe to our daughters and wives,
Cause of our sons' shortened lives,
Bring to scorn and contumely,
Setting the mind brooding gloomily;
To-day bringing sorrow
And trouble and care,
To be followed to-morrow
By want and despair.
Dire are the evils that grow with the vine;
Black are the vices that flow with the wine,
That swim in the casks,
And sport in the flasks,
And leap from the bottles
Down men's thirsty throttles,
494
Till their victims grow reckless and scurvy,
Careless of home and its quiet,
Given to tippling and riot,
Out-of-door swaggering
Home-to-bed staggering,
And, at last, when the revel is o'er,
The grave of a drunkard—thus much and no more.
HER GRAND-AUNT JANE.
When you asked for my hand, and I answered you “yes!”
I certainly loved you then,
For I thought you were all that a husband should be,
And better than most of the men;
But since you have uttered some notions of yours,
On the wife you expect to obtain,
I have a half doubt if we're suited for mates—
You should marry my grand-aunt Jane.
I certainly loved you then,
For I thought you were all that a husband should be,
And better than most of the men;
But since you have uttered some notions of yours,
On the wife you expect to obtain,
I have a half doubt if we're suited for mates—
You should marry my grand-aunt Jane.
You say that a woman should gentleness be,
With a timid and downcast eye,
And govern her temper and bridle her tongue,
However much troubles may try.
But I'm gentle alone when they're gentle with me,
I speak with an utterance plain,
And I look a man square in the face when I speak—
You should marry my grand-aunt Jane.
With a timid and downcast eye,
And govern her temper and bridle her tongue,
However much troubles may try.
But I'm gentle alone when they're gentle with me,
I speak with an utterance plain,
And I look a man square in the face when I speak—
You should marry my grand-aunt Jane.
You say that a woman should close up her ears
To the gossip that travels around,
And always remain with her duties at home,
Where a wife should forever be found.
But when visitors chatter I let them talk on,
While my thoughts in my mind I retain,
And I like the fresh air now and then for a change—
You should marry my grand-aunt Jane.
To the gossip that travels around,
495
Where a wife should forever be found.
But when visitors chatter I let them talk on,
While my thoughts in my mind I retain,
And I like the fresh air now and then for a change—
You should marry my grand-aunt Jane.
Eve was taken from Adam, you say—ah, yes!
From a rib she was fashioned complete;
But you'll please to remember she came from his side,
And not from his head nor his feet.
And though in the great matrimonial state
As absolute monarch you'd reign,
I fear my rebellion might ruin the realm—
You should marry my grand-aunt Jane.
From a rib she was fashioned complete;
But you'll please to remember she came from his side,
And not from his head nor his feet.
And though in the great matrimonial state
As absolute monarch you'd reign,
I fear my rebellion might ruin the realm—
You should marry my grand-aunt Jane.
My kinswoman now is past fifty, they say;
And never a petulant word
Has ever escaped from her innocent mouth,
And slander she never has heard;
While she never goes gadding away from her home;
And the cause of her goodness is plain—
She was deaf, she was dumb, she was lame from her birth—
You should marry my grand-aunt Jane.
And never a petulant word
Has ever escaped from her innocent mouth,
And slander she never has heard;
While she never goes gadding away from her home;
And the cause of her goodness is plain—
She was deaf, she was dumb, she was lame from her birth—
You should marry my grand-aunt Jane.
If you seek not a slave, nor a toy, but a wife,
With a heart that is loyal and true,
Who will bring you affection as warm as your own,
And the honor she knows is your due,
I am yours to the end, be it bitter or sweet,
A sharer in pleasure or pain;
But if other your views about marriage, why, then,
You should marry my grand-aunt Jane.
With a heart that is loyal and true,
Who will bring you affection as warm as your own,
And the honor she knows is your due,
I am yours to the end, be it bitter or sweet,
A sharer in pleasure or pain;
But if other your views about marriage, why, then,
You should marry my grand-aunt Jane.
496
THOMAS AND I.
Seated alone on the Smyrna mat,
Washing your face with your paw, and all that,
You have little to worry your mind, my cat.
Washing your face with your paw, and all that,
You have little to worry your mind, my cat.
You are furred in grey, and along your back
Is a stripe of glossy, satiny black,
While trousers of white you never lack.
Is a stripe of glossy, satiny black,
While trousers of white you never lack.
Your claws like sickles are curved and keen;
Your paws are muscular, hard and lean;
Your eyes are a beautiful yellow and green.
Your paws are muscular, hard and lean;
Your eyes are a beautiful yellow and green.
Your motions are filled with a lissom grace,
And you have a sober, reflective face,
Where naught of the demon within we trace.
And you have a sober, reflective face,
Where naught of the demon within we trace.
When you've licked your fur, you have brushed your coat;
You have never to meet a thirty days' note,
Nor have you your purring to learn by note.
You have never to meet a thirty days' note,
Nor have you your purring to learn by note.
Down in the cellar are mice at need;
You have no wife and weans to feed;
And yours is a very good life indeed.
You have no wife and weans to feed;
And yours is a very good life indeed.
And yet of trouble you must have some;
And your voice on the matter is nowise dumb:
It is eight, and the milkman hasn't come.
And your voice on the matter is nowise dumb:
It is eight, and the milkman hasn't come.
While you are waiting for milk a fill,
I sigh for the doctor to give me a pill—
A nasty one, as he surely will.
I sigh for the doctor to give me a pill—
A nasty one, as he surely will.
497
Some milk for you and a pill for me,
Your case much better than mine must be,
Since little relief from my pains I see.
Your case much better than mine must be,
Since little relief from my pains I see.
You will bid in a moment to care farewell,
For there is the milkman's fearful yell;
And, horror! the doctor is ringing the bell.
For there is the milkman's fearful yell;
And, horror! the doctor is ringing the bell.
I hear the door on the doctor close;
I feel disgust from lips to toes;
For he left this pill—well, down it goes!
I feel disgust from lips to toes;
For he left this pill—well, down it goes!
Oh! lucky Tom! whate'er your ills,
You never are forced to swallow pills,
And never are troubled with doctor's bills.
You never are forced to swallow pills,
And never are troubled with doctor's bills.
No! there you spread yourself on the mat,
And go to sleep there during our chat,
Luxurious, sybaritish cat!
And go to sleep there during our chat,
Luxurious, sybaritish cat!
You make reply in a sudden croon
By way of scoff; but, I tell you, soon
In a piteous way you'll change your tune.
By way of scoff; but, I tell you, soon
In a piteous way you'll change your tune.
You're growing apace—old, ten months nigh;
You'll travel at night time, by and by;
And then, my growler, the fur 'll fly.
You'll travel at night time, by and by;
And then, my growler, the fur 'll fly.
From back yards deep and fences tall
On sweet Maria you'll loudly call
With a loud, melodious caterwaul.
On sweet Maria you'll loudly call
With a loud, melodious caterwaul.
On the concert stage you'll make your bow,
Say in about two months from now,
With your sweet—“meow—rhr! fts! spts! meyeow!”
Say in about two months from now,
With your sweet—“meow—rhr! fts! spts! meyeow!”
498
But when you utter the silvery tones
Look out for bootjacks, bottles and stones
To bruise your flesh and batter your bones.
Look out for bootjacks, bottles and stones
To bruise your flesh and batter your bones.
And then as you crawl along half dead,
You'll wish you were human born and bred
And had to scribble perhaps for bread.
You'll wish you were human born and bred
And had to scribble perhaps for bread.
It is just the same with cats as men;
They'd like to be something else, and then
They would quickly wish to be cats again.
They'd like to be something else, and then
They would quickly wish to be cats again.
GRANDFATHER'S TALK.
Days of romance have gone forever;
Gone are the olden dreams and trances:
Love is no longer worth the endeavor;
Nothing I care for witching glances.
Gone are the olden dreams and trances:
Love is no longer worth the endeavor;
Nothing I care for witching glances.
Passion is now an island lonely—
Bordered the shore with dangerous breakers;
Trees I regard for timber only;
Value of meads I gauge by acres.
Bordered the shore with dangerous breakers;
Trees I regard for timber only;
Value of meads I gauge by acres.
Bright is the wine and clear and ruddy—
Love is a sham, the glass is real,
Pocketbook filled, the book to study,
Plenty of cash, the true ideal.
Love is a sham, the glass is real,
Pocketbook filled, the book to study,
Plenty of cash, the true ideal.
Give me a chair both wide and easy,
'Noint me all o'er with luxury's chrism,
Now that my breath is scant and wheezy,
Now that I howl with rheumatism.
'Noint me all o'er with luxury's chrism,
Now that my breath is scant and wheezy,
Now that I howl with rheumatism.
499
Phillis is passing by me daily—
Sharp on my ear her thick silk crinkles—
Humming her little love-song gayly,
Nothing she cares for age and wrinkles.
Sharp on my ear her thick silk crinkles—
Humming her little love-song gayly,
Nothing she cares for age and wrinkles.
Idle regret, the chief of dear sins,
Closer it clings than any other;
Therefore I pine that fifty years since
Lost I the one she calls grandmother.
Closer it clings than any other;
Therefore I pine that fifty years since
Lost I the one she calls grandmother.
Phillis her head holds up as she did,
When I implored her and she chid me;
Had I been rich I had succeeded—
Gold in my rival's purse outbid me.
When I implored her and she chid me;
Had I been rich I had succeeded—
Gold in my rival's purse outbid me.
O, what a blow! awhile I wandered,
Talked about dying love's poor martyr;
Sighs by the quart I reckless squandered;
Treasured my Chloe's cast-off garter.
Talked about dying love's poor martyr;
Sighs by the quart I reckless squandered;
Treasured my Chloe's cast-off garter.
Vanished my grief in old-time fashion,
Others I met with, fair and showy;
What if I felt no ardent passion?
Helen was richer far than Chloe.
Others I met with, fair and showy;
What if I felt no ardent passion?
Helen was richer far than Chloe.
Speedily died the old love's embers;
Comfort I found in cash she brought me;
Harry his grandame well remembers;
Little he knows her money caught me.
Comfort I found in cash she brought me;
Harry his grandame well remembers;
Little he knows her money caught me.
Harry's engaged to Phillis: she is
Plighted to Harry; so, among folk
Whimsical Fate with changes free is;
Here's to their luck—the loving young folk!
Plighted to Harry; so, among folk
Whimsical Fate with changes free is;
Here's to their luck—the loving young folk!
500
Odd, is it not; a kind of thrill is
Shaking my frame. When these two marry,
Grandfather, I, to him and Phillis,
Chloe, a grandame to her and Harry.
Shaking my frame. When these two marry,
Grandfather, I, to him and Phillis,
Chloe, a grandame to her and Harry.
Pledge me again! We all die one day,
Be it in Spring's or Winter's weather.
When the young couple wed on Monday,
Chloe and I will laugh together.
Be it in Spring's or Winter's weather.
When the young couple wed on Monday,
Chloe and I will laugh together.
KING DOLLAR.
In a land of the West, that is far, far away,
Where the little ones toil and the older folk play,
Where professors are made from their ignorant fools,
And the chief of the pedagogues teaching in schools
Is the very worst scholar,
Where their columns with nonsense the journalists fill,
Where the rivers and rivulets hurry up hill,
Where reason is hot, and where passion is cold,
Where for cash, by the pennyweight, justice is sold,
There reigneth King Dollar.
Where the little ones toil and the older folk play,
Where professors are made from their ignorant fools,
And the chief of the pedagogues teaching in schools
Is the very worst scholar,
Where their columns with nonsense the journalists fill,
Where the rivers and rivulets hurry up hill,
Where reason is hot, and where passion is cold,
Where for cash, by the pennyweight, justice is sold,
There reigneth King Dollar.
There fondness for money is first of the lusts,
Competition is smothered by rascally trusts,
A day of fair toil foulest wages receives,
And station and luxury no one achieves
Whose neck shirks a collar.
He is foremost who makes the most profit from sin;
Truth and falsehood in quarrel, then falsehood will win;
A long life of infamy garners no shame,
But an honored old age, without loathing or blame,
At the court of King Dollar.
Competition is smothered by rascally trusts,
A day of fair toil foulest wages receives,
And station and luxury no one achieves
Whose neck shirks a collar.
He is foremost who makes the most profit from sin;
Truth and falsehood in quarrel, then falsehood will win;
A long life of infamy garners no shame,
But an honored old age, without loathing or blame,
At the court of King Dollar.
501
There each in servility crooketh the knees,
And much the back bendeth the monarch to please;
There he who works hardest in poverty dwells,
And he who lolls laziest riches compels,
With laud to the loller;
There he who has millions, though holding them sure,
Having nothing but money forever is poor;
There the mass crawl and grovel, none dare go erect,
For woe to the wretch who preserves self-respect
In the land of King Dollar.
And much the back bendeth the monarch to please;
There he who works hardest in poverty dwells,
And he who lolls laziest riches compels,
With laud to the loller;
There he who has millions, though holding them sure,
Having nothing but money forever is poor;
There the mass crawl and grovel, none dare go erect,
For woe to the wretch who preserves self-respect
In the land of King Dollar.
Who abases his body and sullies his soul,
Who refuses the beggar his pitiful dole,
Whoever is ready with knaves to conspire
To tax the poor man on food, clothing and fire,
A greedy forestaller;
Who gives to the church, while religion he mocks,
Keeps benevolence jailed under double strong locks,
Whose language is best, but whose actions the worst,
He comes to distinction, and stands with the first
In regard of King Dollar.
Who refuses the beggar his pitiful dole,
Whoever is ready with knaves to conspire
To tax the poor man on food, clothing and fire,
A greedy forestaller;
Who gives to the church, while religion he mocks,
Keeps benevolence jailed under double strong locks,
Whose language is best, but whose actions the worst,
He comes to distinction, and stands with the first
In regard of King Dollar.
There the flimsiest paper is better than gold,
There they kick out good manners because they are old,
There virtue is rotten and wickedness sound,
And vice, in the midst of the merry-go-round,
As queen they install her.
Ah! never were slaves half so abject as they,
And never was king with such absolute sway!
He smiles, and the sun shines; he frowns, and it rains;
He has chains on men's bodies and locks on their brains,
This despotic King Dollar.
There they kick out good manners because they are old,
There virtue is rotten and wickedness sound,
And vice, in the midst of the merry-go-round,
As queen they install her.
Ah! never were slaves half so abject as they,
And never was king with such absolute sway!
He smiles, and the sun shines; he frowns, and it rains;
He has chains on men's bodies and locks on their brains,
This despotic King Dollar.
But ours is a land where such king could not reign,
Where avarice seeks for a victim in vain,
Where pity and truth to the people are dear,
And trusts, deals and syndicates, should they appear,
Would stir up our choler,
And rouse a fierce tempest to sweep in its wrath
Force, fraud and conspiracy far from our path.
So let us all thank the good fortune which brings,
Our country exemption from thraldom of kings,
Most of all, from King Dollar.
Where avarice seeks for a victim in vain,
502
And trusts, deals and syndicates, should they appear,
Would stir up our choler,
And rouse a fierce tempest to sweep in its wrath
Force, fraud and conspiracy far from our path.
So let us all thank the good fortune which brings,
Our country exemption from thraldom of kings,
Most of all, from King Dollar.
THE BROWN JUG.
I find a brown jug with a hole in the bottom,
Dropt her on the ground—what a story it tells!
The spirits it held, though the soft earth has got 'em,
Their nature reveals to the party who smells.
Cider-brandy, and, doubtless, distilled since October—
The scent of the apple still lingers around;
From earth it first came in a shape rather sober,
And then, changed in form, it went back to the ground.
Dropt her on the ground—what a story it tells!
The spirits it held, though the soft earth has got 'em,
Their nature reveals to the party who smells.
Cider-brandy, and, doubtless, distilled since October—
The scent of the apple still lingers around;
From earth it first came in a shape rather sober,
And then, changed in form, it went back to the ground.
Brown jug, you're an old one; I know by this token—
The string 'round your neck is unsightly and frayed;
And I find one more fact that is just as out-spoken—
A stopple of corn-cob some owner has made.
Well, perhaps you have aided in giving him comfort
While reeling along on the highway to woe;
Though bliss must be rare when to brandy or rum for 't
A desperate creature will recklessly go.
The string 'round your neck is unsightly and frayed;
And I find one more fact that is just as out-spoken—
A stopple of corn-cob some owner has made.
Well, perhaps you have aided in giving him comfort
While reeling along on the highway to woe;
Though bliss must be rare when to brandy or rum for 't
A desperate creature will recklessly go.
Here tied to the string is a half-blotted label—
“Bob Salter”—I might have known that by the cob;
Cork fitted too firmly, and closely, and stable;
To pull a loose cob out was easier for Bob.
How often Bob glued his dry lips to your muzzle
The shrewdest of reckoners never could tell;
How many such jugs he has emptied would puzzle
A mathematician to calculate well.
“Bob Salter”—I might have known that by the cob;
503
To pull a loose cob out was easier for Bob.
How often Bob glued his dry lips to your muzzle
The shrewdest of reckoners never could tell;
How many such jugs he has emptied would puzzle
A mathematician to calculate well.
That hole in the bottom no mischief created;
The hole in the top is the vent whence there came
The demon who dwells in a house desolated,
And brings in his company ruin and shame.
Through the neck where the corn-cob is resting in quiet
Poor Bob's former acres have melted away;
Through that came the fiend that with laughter and riot
Sent his manhood and nice sense of honor astray.
The hole in the top is the vent whence there came
The demon who dwells in a house desolated,
And brings in his company ruin and shame.
Through the neck where the corn-cob is resting in quiet
Poor Bob's former acres have melted away;
Through that came the fiend that with laughter and riot
Sent his manhood and nice sense of honor astray.
You'll never hold liquor again, broken vessel!
In the matter of mischief your work has been done;
To the wretch's racked bosom you'll nevermore nestle—
Why, bless me! that's Bob, lying prone in the sun.
Poor fellow! face downward, in Summer heat seething—
Let me turn him, and shade him, and pillow his head;
What's that? cold and pallid! no pulse-beat! no breathing!
Poor Drunkard! Heaven pardon his sins; he is dead!
In the matter of mischief your work has been done;
To the wretch's racked bosom you'll nevermore nestle—
Why, bless me! that's Bob, lying prone in the sun.
Poor fellow! face downward, in Summer heat seething—
Let me turn him, and shade him, and pillow his head;
What's that? cold and pallid! no pulse-beat! no breathing!
Poor Drunkard! Heaven pardon his sins; he is dead!
OVERCROPPING THE BRAIN.
“How do you manage?” I asked of a neighbor
Who is fast growing rich by the raising of “truck”;
“What is your secret?” He answered—“Hard labor;
But mainly profusion of compost and muck.
Ground in good heart, you must plough a deep furrow,
Harrow it smoothly; let culture be thorough;
And scatter rich food for the plants in their day:
Fatten and stir it—the soil will repay.”
Who is fast growing rich by the raising of “truck”;
“What is your secret?” He answered—“Hard labor;
But mainly profusion of compost and muck.
504
Harrow it smoothly; let culture be thorough;
And scatter rich food for the plants in their day:
Fatten and stir it—the soil will repay.”
“Very good doctrine,” I said, “and worth heeding;
But can't you succeed with less muck thrown around?”
“Certainly not; 'twere a spendthrift proceeding—
All out, nothing in—you'd make barren the ground.”
“Should you overcrop some?”—“Why, to do so were shallow;
But you cure it by letting that portion lie fallow.
Let the land have a rest, for with truth you may say
That cropping is work, and that resting is play.”
But can't you succeed with less muck thrown around?”
“Certainly not; 'twere a spendthrift proceeding—
All out, nothing in—you'd make barren the ground.”
“Should you overcrop some?”—“Why, to do so were shallow;
But you cure it by letting that portion lie fallow.
Let the land have a rest, for with truth you may say
That cropping is work, and that resting is play.”
“From the very same spot in your garden you rifle
Each year the same crop if your muck-heaps sustain?”
“By no means: the product would shrink to a trifle,
Or be too inferior fair prices to gain.
For a crop that will pay—all experience will show it—
The place must be changed every year where you grow it,
Or the land will get sterile, and cease to return
The reward that the gardener's labor should earn.”
Each year the same crop if your muck-heaps sustain?”
“By no means: the product would shrink to a trifle,
Or be too inferior fair prices to gain.
For a crop that will pay—all experience will show it—
The place must be changed every year where you grow it,
Or the land will get sterile, and cease to return
The reward that the gardener's labor should earn.”
“That smart boy of yours who one time was so ruddy,
I see he is growing quite pallid of late—
Is he sick?”—“No, I think not—kept hard at his study—
There's a heap stored away in that little one's pate.
He's only fourteen and I'm told by his teacher,
He'll make ere he dies a great lawyer or preacher—
Not forced, like his father, to tug and to toil,
His bread he will win without tilling the soil.”
I see he is growing quite pallid of late—
Is he sick?”—“No, I think not—kept hard at his study—
There's a heap stored away in that little one's pate.
He's only fourteen and I'm told by his teacher,
He'll make ere he dies a great lawyer or preacher—
Not forced, like his father, to tug and to toil,
His bread he will win without tilling the soil.”
505
“Reads and writes, I suppose?” “Reads and writes! I should think so;
Could do so at eight. Why, through Euclid he's gone,
Trigonometry, mental phil—what makes you wink so,
And why is your upper lip crookedly drawn?
I tell you that's so.” “I don't doubt it, good neighbor;
He's been mucked, ploughed and harrowed with plenty of labor;
But pray don't it strike you, the very same plan
For the culture of earth suits the culture of man?
Could do so at eight. Why, through Euclid he's gone,
Trigonometry, mental phil—what makes you wink so,
And why is your upper lip crookedly drawn?
I tell you that's so.” “I don't doubt it, good neighbor;
He's been mucked, ploughed and harrowed with plenty of labor;
But pray don't it strike you, the very same plan
For the culture of earth suits the culture of man?
“That boy wants a change in the corp you are growing
In the very same spot in his brain every day;
You keep in his mind plough and harrow a-going—
All waking-hours study—no moment for play.
The soil wearing out by unvaried production.
What follows is taught by the simplest induction:
Too much head on his shoulders for body and limb—
Don't you think, my good friend, that you overcrop him?”
In the very same spot in his brain every day;
You keep in his mind plough and harrow a-going—
All waking-hours study—no moment for play.
The soil wearing out by unvaried production.
What follows is taught by the simplest induction:
Too much head on his shoulders for body and limb—
Don't you think, my good friend, that you overcrop him?”
My neighbor turned red—he was sorely offended—
Too much freedom I took with the pride of the school;
Our once-friendly intercourse suddenly ended—
For months he has deemed me a meddlesome fool;
But now that a funeral creeps through the village,
I think I may talk about high mental tillage—
Death gathers his crop now the summer is done,
And garners, with others, my neighbor's young son.
Too much freedom I took with the pride of the school;
Our once-friendly intercourse suddenly ended—
For months he has deemed me a meddlesome fool;
But now that a funeral creeps through the village,
I think I may talk about high mental tillage—
Death gathers his crop now the summer is done,
And garners, with others, my neighbor's young son.
506
THE TRAMP'S DEFENCE.
Yes, sir—one of the tramps. That's what they call us,
We wandering philosophers who bear
Scorn, cold and hunger, none of which appall us,
So we have freedom and our breath of air—
Having these in plenty, wherefore need we care?
We wandering philosophers who bear
Scorn, cold and hunger, none of which appall us,
So we have freedom and our breath of air—
Having these in plenty, wherefore need we care?
A tramp, indeed! There's honor in the title;
It had been borne, if right were might, by those
Whose course of life is worthy of recital
By grave historians, and whose joys and woes
And deeds while on the tramp, the whole world knows.
It had been borne, if right were might, by those
Whose course of life is worthy of recital
By grave historians, and whose joys and woes
And deeds while on the tramp, the whole world knows.
Like each of them I am by choice a rover,
And wander, since this errant life of mine
Pleases me more than standing still; moreover,
Tramps ne'er become so from a fate malign,
Nor know a Nemesis α–διδρασκειν.
And wander, since this errant life of mine
Pleases me more than standing still; moreover,
Tramps ne'er become so from a fate malign,
Nor know a Nemesis α–διδρασκειν.
“I know some Greek?” That is no wondrous knowledge,
I can recite the Iliad by the page;
I have not lost the lore I got in college,
And could a contest with a Parson wage,
Though not so well as at an earlier age.
I can recite the Iliad by the page;
I have not lost the lore I got in college,
And could a contest with a Parson wage,
Though not so well as at an earlier age.
“How did I fall?” How did I rise were better;
I shall not fall until to tramp I stop;
If you will read with care the classic letter,
You'll see great men while tramps remain on top,
But, growing quiet, to the bottom drop.
I shall not fall until to tramp I stop;
If you will read with care the classic letter,
You'll see great men while tramps remain on top,
But, growing quiet, to the bottom drop.
507
The son of great Hamilcar Barca, greater
Than was his sire, tramped like a man of brawn
Over the Alps successful; but when later
In Capua he stopped his tramping on,
And turned respectable, his power was gone.
Than was his sire, tramped like a man of brawn
Over the Alps successful; but when later
In Capua he stopped his tramping on,
And turned respectable, his power was gone.
A tramp! why, what on earth was Genghis Khan
Who shook his pigtail in all Europe's face?
What Alexander, or what any man
Whose steady tramp by blood and groans you trace—
All tramps, and scourges of the human race.
Who shook his pigtail in all Europe's face?
What Alexander, or what any man
Whose steady tramp by blood and groans you trace—
All tramps, and scourges of the human race.
But there be tramps, and tramps—the records teach;
Of pious ones there is your burning lamp,
Peter the Hermit, who with stirring speech,
Changed the whole Orient into one vast camp;
Leading a host of tramps, himself a tramp.
Of pious ones there is your burning lamp,
Peter the Hermit, who with stirring speech,
Changed the whole Orient into one vast camp;
Leading a host of tramps, himself a tramp.
I'm of the harmless kind, you'll please to note;
No blood, no sorrow marks my patient tread;
I, in my stomach wear my broadcloth coat;
But little fills my want—some whiskey, bread,
Meat when I can, more whiskey, and a bed.
No blood, no sorrow marks my patient tread;
I, in my stomach wear my broadcloth coat;
But little fills my want—some whiskey, bread,
Meat when I can, more whiskey, and a bed.
I never pocket money held in trust;
I never cheat in chattels that I vend;
I never by my cant excite disgust;
I never wound the honor of a friend;
Nor seek for cent. per cent. on what I lend.
I never cheat in chattels that I vend;
I never by my cant excite disgust;
I never wound the honor of a friend;
Nor seek for cent. per cent. on what I lend.
I am the type of progress; on I go
As steady as the stream—no rest for me;
What may occur to-morrow breeds no woe
In my calm mind—what is to be, will be;
I am the genuine Child of Destiny.
As steady as the stream—no rest for me;
What may occur to-morrow breeds no woe
In my calm mind—what is to be, will be;
I am the genuine Child of Destiny.
508
THE POWER OF NUMBERS.
Said Policeman 10,904,
As his locust he swung by the station house door,
“This robbing a grave is the worst of all tricks.”
“That's so,” said Policeman 9,006.
As his locust he swung by the station house door,
“This robbing a grave is the worst of all tricks.”
“That's so,” said Policeman 9,006.
And Policeman 12,807
He said to 8,911:
“We'll combine with 6,605,
And hive the scamps as sure's you're alive.”
He said to 8,911:
“We'll combine with 6,605,
And hive the scamps as sure's you're alive.”
But 6,605 made no sign,
His partner was No. 4,009;
And the others were forced, as the next best of men,
To consult 16,710.
His partner was No. 4,009;
And the others were forced, as the next best of men,
To consult 16,710.
16,710 said that he
Only worked with 9,703;
While 2,014 remarked he was certain
He'd ferret it out with 4,013.
Only worked with 9,703;
While 2,014 remarked he was certain
He'd ferret it out with 4,013.
Policeman 9,750
Said “Money's too little—too stingy, too thrifty;
Increase the reward, and two men are a plenty,
Myself and 7,320.”
Said “Money's too little—too stingy, too thrifty;
Increase the reward, and two men are a plenty,
Myself and 7,320.”
4,909 said that he
Was confident—well, as a fellow could be,
That the only couple to put the thing through
Were himself and 3,102.
Was confident—well, as a fellow could be,
That the only couple to put the thing through
Were himself and 3,102.
509
In spite of their wisdom they all couldn't get
The thieves or the body, and haven't them yet;
But it's clear as a fog that the thing had been done,
Had they sent for 7,801.
The thieves or the body, and haven't them yet;
But it's clear as a fog that the thing had been done,
Had they sent for 7,801.
THE TRAMP'S FRIEND.
What if he be old and poor,
With nor bread nor bed secure?
What if elbows ragged be,
Trousers fringed and patched at knee?
What if boots their age reveal,
Out at toe and down at heel?
What if hat have color dim,
Parted crown and absent rim?
What if hair be all unkempt,
Beard from razor-edge exempt?
Food unwholesome, lodging damp,
Branded bummer, spurned as scamp—
Ah, how happy is the tramp!
With nor bread nor bed secure?
What if elbows ragged be,
Trousers fringed and patched at knee?
What if boots their age reveal,
Out at toe and down at heel?
What if hat have color dim,
Parted crown and absent rim?
What if hair be all unkempt,
Beard from razor-edge exempt?
Food unwholesome, lodging damp,
Branded bummer, spurned as scamp—
Ah, how happy is the tramp!
Near him ever is a maid,
Modest she and half-afraid,
Gentle, loving, frank and fair,
Crowned with wealth of golden hair;
Eyes whose purest azure vies
With the hue of Summer skies;
Glances filled with tenderness,
Every movement a caress;
Voice like running water clear,
Murmuring music to the ear.
Who is she who thus attends him,
To a pleasant life commends him,
Comforts, stimulates, defends him?
Modest she and half-afraid,
Gentle, loving, frank and fair,
Crowned with wealth of golden hair;
Eyes whose purest azure vies
With the hue of Summer skies;
Glances filled with tenderness,
Every movement a caress;
Voice like running water clear,
Murmuring music to the ear.
Who is she who thus attends him,
510
Comforts, stimulates, defends him?
Who is she that bringeth back,
In his cloudy memory's track,
Visions of the scenes and ways
Of the old-time banished days,
Filling eye and brain with pleasure
Of imaginary treasure,
Giving warmth amid the snow,
Coolness in the Summer glow,
And by magic power attended,
Changing rags to raiment splendid?
Is she fairy? Is she woman?
Mortal form or superhuman?
Neither. Let your fancy topple.
'Tis a jug with corn-cob stopple.
In his cloudy memory's track,
Visions of the scenes and ways
Of the old-time banished days,
Filling eye and brain with pleasure
Of imaginary treasure,
Giving warmth amid the snow,
Coolness in the Summer glow,
And by magic power attended,
Changing rags to raiment splendid?
Is she fairy? Is she woman?
Mortal form or superhuman?
Neither. Let your fancy topple.
'Tis a jug with corn-cob stopple.
THE COAL BARON.
On the bank of the Rhine, the bold baron of old,
Like a spider enwebbed, sat alert in his hold;
And when burgher in tunic, or clerk in his gown,
Jogged along on the highway to abbey or town,
Impartial to all who were able to pay,
Down he swoopt with his stout men-at-arms on his prey;
Some parted with silver, some parted with gold.
But all paid their toll to the baron of old.
Like a spider enwebbed, sat alert in his hold;
And when burgher in tunic, or clerk in his gown,
Jogged along on the highway to abbey or town,
Impartial to all who were able to pay,
Down he swoopt with his stout men-at-arms on his prey;
Some parted with silver, some parted with gold.
But all paid their toll to the baron of old.
To the Emperor Conrad who sat on the throne
Came burgher and priest with a pitiful moan.
Conrad heard with knit brows and with evident ire,
And cried—“The foul robber is playing with fire.
Good knights and brave vassals, the felon shall know
That law bears alike on the high and the low.”
And widely the justice of Conrad was praised
When the baron was hanged and his castle was razed.
Came burgher and priest with a pitiful moan.
511
And cried—“The foul robber is playing with fire.
Good knights and brave vassals, the felon shall know
That law bears alike on the high and the low.”
And widely the justice of Conrad was praised
When the baron was hanged and his castle was razed.
Now we have a baron who plays the same game,
His methods may differ, his ends are the same;
Poor pay to the swart, toiling miner he deals;
With high prices the store of consumers he steals;
The fetters of law are mere cobwebs to him,
He rends them asunder at will or in whim;
The beggar and bondholder both must pay toll
To swell the fat purse of the Baron of Coal.
His methods may differ, his ends are the same;
Poor pay to the swart, toiling miner he deals;
With high prices the store of consumers he steals;
The fetters of law are mere cobwebs to him,
He rends them asunder at will or in whim;
The beggar and bondholder both must pay toll
To swell the fat purse of the Baron of Coal.
Is justice a farce, and are laws but a jest,
And courts only act at the Baron's behest,
And have we no Conrad, no monarch, whose sword
Can reach in his stronghold this baron abhorred?
Ah, yes! in the People. Once roused for the right,
They are potent these cogging forestallers to smite,
And woe to the wretches who waken their ire—
Coal Baron, beware! you are playing with fire.
And courts only act at the Baron's behest,
And have we no Conrad, no monarch, whose sword
Can reach in his stronghold this baron abhorred?
Ah, yes! in the People. Once roused for the right,
They are potent these cogging forestallers to smite,
And woe to the wretches who waken their ire—
Coal Baron, beware! you are playing with fire.
THE SPIDER.
I sat here at my table
And watched a spider grim
Who wove a web on the window pane,
And much I studied him—
A grey and speckled spider
Who from himself had spun
An octagonal net with filmy threads
Between me and the sun.
And watched a spider grim
Who wove a web on the window pane,
And much I studied him—
A grey and speckled spider
Who from himself had spun
512
Between me and the sun.
Two strong though slender cables
At corners four were tied,
And one from top to bottom drawn,
And one from side to side;
With finer film he crossed them
With others here and there,
The lines and angles glistening
And quivering in the air.
At corners four were tied,
And one from top to bottom drawn,
And one from side to side;
With finer film he crossed them
With others here and there,
The lines and angles glistening
And quivering in the air.
There, in the centre sitting,
In wait the spider lay
And watched the flies that buzzed and flew
Around him all the day—
With covetous eyes and cruel,
That glittered with flash of steel
With every nerve to tension drawn
The slightest touch to feel.
In wait the spider lay
And watched the flies that buzzed and flew
Around him all the day—
With covetous eyes and cruel,
That glittered with flash of steel
With every nerve to tension drawn
The slightest touch to feel.
And every day I watched him
While never a victim came,
No blood to draw, no limb to tear,
Expectant all the same;
But on this very morning
A victim came at last,
When a great blue-bottle struck the web
And he tied him firm and fast.
While never a victim came,
No blood to draw, no limb to tear,
Expectant all the same;
But on this very morning
A victim came at last,
When a great blue-bottle struck the web
And he tied him firm and fast.
Now I am a sort of spider,
And in my office here,
A counsellor-at-law I've been
For two months over a year;
And still within my network
I sit with hungry eyes,
Awaiting clients in the web—
And clients are but flies.
And in my office here,
A counsellor-at-law I've been
For two months over a year;
513
I sit with hungry eyes,
Awaiting clients in the web—
And clients are but flies.
I've grown aweary, waiting
For the filaments to shake,
That on some testy litigant
My thirst for blood I'd slake;
And hopeless and despairing,
I thought, with inward moans,
That a man might earn a dollar a day
On the roadway breaking stones.
For the filaments to shake,
That on some testy litigant
My thirst for blood I'd slake;
And hopeless and despairing,
I thought, with inward moans,
That a man might earn a dollar a day
On the roadway breaking stones.
My soul accepts the lesson
Thus from the spider drawn,
And still within this dreary place
I'll bravely struggle on.
The patient are the gainers,
They lose who win too fast;
The vacant network may enmesh
The biggest fly at last.
Thus from the spider drawn,
And still within this dreary place
I'll bravely struggle on.
The patient are the gainers,
They lose who win too fast;
The vacant network may enmesh
The biggest fly at last.
Who raps so loud? “Come in!” I say;
“A peddler by his din.”
But no! a well-dressed countryman
Asks if “the lawyer's in.”
Farewell, my friend, the spider,
I'll see you bye and bye;
This is a client, sure as fate;
At last I've caught my fly.
“A peddler by his din.”
But no! a well-dressed countryman
Asks if “the lawyer's in.”
Farewell, my friend, the spider,
I'll see you bye and bye;
This is a client, sure as fate;
At last I've caught my fly.
514
PESTS.
The Italian Count in his velvet jacket,
Who grinds the organ before my door,
What does he care that the wheezy racket
Is making me long for a cup of gore?
On a mental rack my ears he stretches;
He harrows my soul with his dreary drone,
And grins when his funny old monkey fetches
The dime that I give to be let alone.
Who grinds the organ before my door,
What does he care that the wheezy racket
Is making me long for a cup of gore?
On a mental rack my ears he stretches;
He harrows my soul with his dreary drone,
And grins when his funny old monkey fetches
The dime that I give to be let alone.
A rap at the door and a peddler asking
His stock to diminish of pins and thread—
A shallow device with the aim of masking
The begging of money to gain him bread.
I rid me of him by a small disbursement;
He pockets a profit of nine in ten:
And then, with a scowl for a silent curse meant,
Sit down and return to my book again.
His stock to diminish of pins and thread—
A shallow device with the aim of masking
The begging of money to gain him bread.
I rid me of him by a small disbursement;
He pockets a profit of nine in ten:
And then, with a scowl for a silent curse meant,
Sit down and return to my book again.
I settle me down with intent to labor,
But a thundering knock, and I open the door;
My visitor says, “You'll excuse me, neighbor,
I very much hate to implore or bore;
But I have no money and have not swallowed
Of victuals a meal for a week, I think.”
Another small coin has its fellows followed;
'Twill get him a schooner of beer to drink.
But a thundering knock, and I open the door;
My visitor says, “You'll excuse me, neighbor,
I very much hate to implore or bore;
But I have no money and have not swallowed
Of victuals a meal for a week, I think.”
Another small coin has its fellows followed;
'Twill get him a schooner of beer to drink.
A tap and I rise with a frowning forehead,
A d, with a dash, is upon my tongue;
I feel like an ogre, as grim and horrid;
But, lo! 'tis a woman both fair and young,
I smoothen my wrinkles and bow politely,
And “how can I serve her” I ask to know;
She enters and says in a manner sprightly,
“I have a desirable book to show.”
A d, with a dash, is upon my tongue;
I feel like an ogre, as grim and horrid;
But, lo! 'tis a woman both fair and young,
515
And “how can I serve her” I ask to know;
She enters and says in a manner sprightly,
“I have a desirable book to show.”
I may not snub and I must not kiss her,
I cannot be rude to a girl well-bred,
So the easiest method to quick dismiss her
Is buying a book that will ne'er be read.
I bow her away and again am seated,
Around me the office is hushed and still—
A knock and my work for the day defeated,
For here is a dun with a tailor's bill.
I cannot be rude to a girl well-bred,
So the easiest method to quick dismiss her
Is buying a book that will ne'er be read.
I bow her away and again am seated,
Around me the office is hushed and still—
A knock and my work for the day defeated,
For here is a dun with a tailor's bill.
I'll get me some paper a foot square nearly;
I'll nail it up at the entrance here;
And write on it boldly as well as clearly:
“Has gone to Alaska to stay a year.”
Or else, on their sympathy kind imposing,
Write on it whatever despair suggests,
A border of mourning the words inclosing:
“Dead and was buried because of pests.”
I'll nail it up at the entrance here;
And write on it boldly as well as clearly:
“Has gone to Alaska to stay a year.”
Or else, on their sympathy kind imposing,
Write on it whatever despair suggests,
A border of mourning the words inclosing:
“Dead and was buried because of pests.”
THE TWO TREATS.
Mister and Mistress Stevens “gave a treat”
At Newport to their friends, the other day;
And there four hundred guests from the élite
Enjoyed themselves much in the usual way,
In swallow-tailed and silken-robed propriety,
After the manner of the best society.
At Newport to their friends, the other day;
And there four hundred guests from the élite
Enjoyed themselves much in the usual way,
In swallow-tailed and silken-robed propriety,
After the manner of the best society.
516
They sent accounts abroad by telegraph,
To raise the wonder of the gaping millions,
How, as their mansion was too small by half,
They raised in the back yard two huge pavilions,
Reminding one in style and decoration
Of some grand hippodromic combination.
To raise the wonder of the gaping millions,
How, as their mansion was too small by half,
They raised in the back yard two huge pavilions,
Reminding one in style and decoration
Of some grand hippodromic combination.
And one was hung with gauze, to represent
Sunset—“how's that for high?”—an iceberg bared;
At one extremity of the mammoth tent,
The electric light in frozen moonlight glared;
Long sprays of smilax from the ice-lumps fell,
And sea-gulls played there—geese, perhaps, as well.
Sunset—“how's that for high?”—an iceberg bared;
At one extremity of the mammoth tent,
The electric light in frozen moonlight glared;
Long sprays of smilax from the ice-lumps fell,
And sea-gulls played there—geese, perhaps, as well.
And round the pole that held the canvas taut,
There stood a gilded cage for captive fowls,
And that was filled with birds all newly caught—
Wrens, turkey-buzzards, mocking-birds, crows, owls,
Peacocks, and other songsters rare and choice,
To please with plumage and to charm by voice.
There stood a gilded cage for captive fowls,
And that was filled with birds all newly caught—
Wrens, turkey-buzzards, mocking-birds, crows, owls,
Peacocks, and other songsters rare and choice,
To please with plumage and to charm by voice.
It was, as well the circus posters say,
“A gorgeous scene of grand magnificence,”
A tropic night combined with boreal day;
Immense result of lavishest expense,
To which extravagance and taste gave birth,
Making “the greatest show on all the earth!”
“A gorgeous scene of grand magnificence,”
A tropic night combined with boreal day;
Immense result of lavishest expense,
To which extravagance and taste gave birth,
Making “the greatest show on all the earth!”
And there the fiddlers fiddled all the night,
And the guests ate and danced, and danced and ate,
And swilled champagne (but nobody got “tight,”)
And kept the revel up till morning late,
And then departed, when with aching head,
Mister and Mistress Stevens went to bed.
And the guests ate and danced, and danced and ate,
And swilled champagne (but nobody got “tight,”)
And kept the revel up till morning late,
517
Mister and Mistress Stevens went to bed.
Now Missus Dennis also gave a treat,
Here in New York, at Essex Market Court,
Brought from her tenement-den in Willet Street,
To make reporters and spectators sport,
And bring the pleasant jest from those whose quick wit is
Stirred to its froth by common folk's iniquities.
Here in New York, at Essex Market Court,
Brought from her tenement-den in Willet Street,
To make reporters and spectators sport,
And bring the pleasant jest from those whose quick wit is
Stirred to its froth by common folk's iniquities.
'Twas not a lady of high social rank,
Whose husband gave her prominence because
He stole the money of some savings-bank,
Or fled to Europe to escape the laws
Whose lashings “sometimes,” rich rogues can't endure;
But a lone widow, friendless, sad and poor.
Whose husband gave her prominence because
He stole the money of some savings-bank,
Or fled to Europe to escape the laws
Whose lashings “sometimes,” rich rogues can't endure;
But a lone widow, friendless, sad and poor.
She had two children, and they cried for bread;
And, reckless through their hunger-pangs, she stole—
Money? Why, no! “a wash-tub”—I grow red
With shame at such a petty theft; the whole
Worth of the thing but forty cents—good gracious!
So low she sank to fill those maws voracious.
And, reckless through their hunger-pangs, she stole—
Money? Why, no! “a wash-tub”—I grow red
With shame at such a petty theft; the whole
Worth of the thing but forty cents—good gracious!
So low she sank to fill those maws voracious.
No wonder 'twas that fell the arm of law,
And magisterial duty smote her there;
How could a Justice, sworn all crime to awe,
Heed the deep pathos of that culprit's prayer?
Not his to blame; he held the wretch to bail,
And, failing that to find, she went to jail.
And magisterial duty smote her there;
How could a Justice, sworn all crime to awe,
Heed the deep pathos of that culprit's prayer?
Not his to blame; he held the wretch to bail,
And, failing that to find, she went to jail.
“My children! at the house they wait for me!”
Such the wild words evoked from her despair—
“Alone and starving! help their misery!
Did Christ for this the cross of suffering bear?
If I did wrong, so be it! Judge, condemn;
But lend at least a helping hand to them!”
Such the wild words evoked from her despair—
518
Did Christ for this the cross of suffering bear?
If I did wrong, so be it! Judge, condemn;
But lend at least a helping hand to them!”
Absurd appeal! What? generous to those?
If they were savages at Nyassa Lake,
Or two car-horses, suffering cruel blows,
Bergh would relieve the twain for pity's sake:
But two jail-orphaned waifs of Willet Street—
Let's read again about that Stevens treat.
If they were savages at Nyassa Lake,
Or two car-horses, suffering cruel blows,
Bergh would relieve the twain for pity's sake:
But two jail-orphaned waifs of Willet Street—
Let's read again about that Stevens treat.
THE BALLAD OF BILL MAGEE.
He was a skillful mariner,
A weather-beaten man,
The master of the oyster sloop
They call the Sally Ann.
A weather-beaten man,
The master of the oyster sloop
They call the Sally Ann.
Not rendered vile by oysters, nor
Demoralized by clams,
He was a strictly moral man,
And sang no songs but psalms.
Demoralized by clams,
He was a strictly moral man,
And sang no songs but psalms.
And, if he used hard words at times,
His language, it is plain,
Was garnished then with expletives,
And not at all profane.
His language, it is plain,
Was garnished then with expletives,
And not at all profane.
I asked of this old mariner,
Whose name was Bill Magee,
To tell me some adventure strange,
That happened him at sea.
Whose name was Bill Magee,
To tell me some adventure strange,
That happened him at sea.
519
This hardy seaman stood him up,
Close by the ship's caboose,
And laid his quid upon its roof,
To serve for further use.
Close by the ship's caboose,
And laid his quid upon its roof,
To serve for further use.
He hitched his trowsers right and left,
Glanced upward at the sail,
And hawked and spat and pucked his lips,
And then began his tale.
Glanced upward at the sail,
And hawked and spat and pucked his lips,
And then began his tale.
“'Twas on the twenty-fourth of June,
In the year of seventy-one,
About two hours, or thereabouts,
Before the set of sun.
In the year of seventy-one,
About two hours, or thereabouts,
Before the set of sun.
“Our stately vessel spread her sail,
Down Hudson making way,
To stem the dangers of the Kill,
And venture Newark Bay.
Down Hudson making way,
To stem the dangers of the Kill,
And venture Newark Bay.
“We kept her off the Palisades
That we a breeze might find,
And partly that as moral men
Fort Lee we'd leave behind.
That we a breeze might find,
And partly that as moral men
Fort Lee we'd leave behind.
“For oh! that is a wicked place,
And given to beer and sin—
They slew St. Mary Parish there
By pi'sonin' her gin.
And given to beer and sin—
They slew St. Mary Parish there
By pi'sonin' her gin.
“Sow-west by sow from Castle P'int,
At seven knots we ran,
When White, the black, our cook came up
With lobscouse in a pan.
At seven knots we ran,
When White, the black, our cook came up
With lobscouse in a pan.
520
“Its smell upon our noses smote,
The Mate he smacked his lips;
But White grew blacker as he cried—
‘What's that among them ships?’
The Mate he smacked his lips;
But White grew blacker as he cried—
‘What's that among them ships?’
“A snort, a roar, a flood of foam,
The fretted water's gleam
As though some huge torpedo boat
Were comin' up the stream.
The fretted water's gleam
As though some huge torpedo boat
Were comin' up the stream.
“And as it came I felt my heart
Within my body quake;
There from Nahant, on a Summer jaunt,
I saw the great sea-snake.
Within my body quake;
There from Nahant, on a Summer jaunt,
I saw the great sea-snake.
“It raised its head, its crimson mouth
It opened good and wide;
You might have driven within the gap
Seven clam-carts side by side.
It opened good and wide;
You might have driven within the gap
Seven clam-carts side by side.
“Two eyes as big as oyster-kegs
Glared at us in the beast;
And under these a pair of jaws
Four rods in width at least.
Glared at us in the beast;
And under these a pair of jaws
Four rods in width at least.
“We could not scream, we could not stir,
For help we could not call;
And the sarpent opened wide his mouth,
And swallowed us, mast and all.
For help we could not call;
And the sarpent opened wide his mouth,
And swallowed us, mast and all.
“Round keel and topmost choked his jaws,
We felt the muscles draw,
As he sucked us down his slimy throat,
And lodged us in his maw.”
We felt the muscles draw,
As he sucked us down his slimy throat,
And lodged us in his maw.”
521
Bill shuddered at the memory,
His face grew deadly pale;
He hitched his trowsers dreamily,
And so he closed his tale.
His face grew deadly pale;
He hitched his trowsers dreamily,
And so he closed his tale.
“How got you out of the serpent's maw?”
I asked the mariner then;
He took up his quid, and sadly said—
“We never got out again!”
I asked the mariner then;
He took up his quid, and sadly said—
“We never got out again!”
| The select poems of Dr. Thomas Dunn English (exclusive of the "Battle lyrics") | |