CORNELL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY GIFT OF Professor B. S. Monroe Cornell Unlveralty Library PS 2704.P5 Poems / 3 1924 022 156 750 Cornell University Library The original of tliis book is in tine Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924022156750 POEMS JAy^ES WHITCOMB RiLEY yaRHs BILL HYE Copyrighted by James Whitcomb Riley, Edgar Wilson Nye, 1891. Illustrated by Baron De Orimm, E. Zimmerman, Walt. McDougall and others. PUBLISHED BY F. T. NEELY CHICAGO AND NEW YORK What this country needs, aside from a new Indian policy and a style of poison for children which will be liable to kill rats if they eat it by accident, is a Railway Guide which will be just as good two years ago as it was next spring — a Railway Guide if you please, which shall not be cursed by a plethora of facts, or poisoned with information — a Rail- way Guide that shall be rich with doubts and lighted up with miserable apprehensions. In other Railway Guides, pleasing fancy, poesy and literary beauty, have been throt- tled at the very threshold of success, by a wild incontinence of facts, figures, asterisks and references to meal stations. For this reason a guide has been built at our own shops and on a new plan. It is the literary piece de resistance of the age in which we live. It will not permit information to creep in and mar the reader's enjoyment of the scenery. It contains no railroad map which is grossly inaccurate. It has no time-table in it which has outlived its uselessness. It does not prohibit passengers from riding on the platform while the cars are in motion. It permits everyone to do xh NYE AND RILEY'S RAILWAY GUIDE just as he pleases and rather encourages him in taking that course. The authors of this book have suffered intensely from the inordinate use of other guides, having been compelled several times to rise at 3 o'clock a.m. in order to catch a car which did not go and which would not have stopped at the station if it had gone. They have decided, therefore, to issue a guide which will be good for one to read after one has missed one's train by reason of one's faith in other guides which we may have in one's luggage. Let it be understood, then, that we are wholly irrespon- sible, and we are glad of it. We do not care who knows it. We will not even hold ourselves responsible for the pictures in this book, or the hard-boiled eggs sold at points marked as meal stations in time tables. We have gone into this thing wholly unpledged, and the man who gets up before he is awake, in order to catch any East bound, or West bound. North bound, South bound, or hide-bound train, named in this book, does himself a great wrong without in any way advancing our own interests. The authors of this book have made railroad travel a close study. They have discovered that there has been no provision made for the man who erroneously gets into acai which is side-tracked and swept out and scrubbed by people who take in cars to scrub and laundry. He is one of the men we are striving at this rnoment to reach with our little volume. We have each of us been that man. We are yet. He ought to have something to read that will distract his attention. This book is designed for him. Also for people who would like to travel but cannot get away from home. Of course, people who do travel, will find nothing objection- able in the book, but our plan is to issue a book worth about WJffY JT WAS DONS. xlU $9 charging only fifty cents for it and then see to it that no time tables or maps which will never return after they have been pulled out once, shall creep in among its pages. It is the design of the authors to issue this guide annually unless prohibited by law and to be the pioneers establishing a book which shall be designed solely for the use of any body who desires to subscribe for it. Bill Nye. James Whitcomb Ril»t. P. vS. — ^The authors desire to express their thanks to Mr. Riley for the poetry and to Mr. Nye for the pros* which have been used in this book. August — Riley 15 Anecdotes of Jay Goitld — Nye 7 A Black Hills Episode^Riley 107 A Blasted Snore — Nye 160 A Brave Refrain — Riley 158 A Character — Riley 116 A Dose't of Blues — Riley 188 A Fall Creek View of the Earthquake — Riley . . 13 A Hint of Spring — Riley 140 A Letter of Acceptance — Nye 37 A Treat Ode— Riley 142 Craqueodoom — Riley 67 Curly Locks — Riley 95 Ezra House — Riley 134 From Delphi to Camden — Riley 54 Good Bye-er Howdy Do -Riley 164 Healthy bux Out of the Race — Nye 79 Her Tired Hands — Nye 126 His Crazy Bone— Riley 61 His Ojristmas Sled — Riley 134 His First Womern — Riley 33 How to Hunt the Fox— Nyb 28 In a Box— Riley 182 Ik the Afternoon — Riley 45 Julius Caesar in Town — Nye 17 LHffis ON Hearins a Cow Bawl— Riley 8j xvi CONTENTS. Lines on Turning Over a Pass — Nye ...... 96 Me and Mary— Riley 87 MrFEETER's Fourth — Riley 179 My Bachelor Chum — Riley 149 Mr. Silberberg— Riley 74 Niagara Falls from the Nye SipE — Nyk 89 Never Talk Back — Riley 4 Oh, Wilhelmina, Come Back — Nye 137 Our Wife — Nye 144 Prying Open the Future — Nye 68 Says He — Riley . . . . » 173 Seeking to be Identified — Nye 196 Seeking to set the Public Right — Nye ..... 184 Spirits at Home — Riley . 77 Society Gurgs from Sandy Mush — Nye 166 SuTTERS Claim — Riley 194 This Man Jones — Riley ... 25 That Night — Riley 100 The Boy Friend — Riley 35 The Chemist of the Carolinas — Nye 62 The Diary of Darius T. Skinner — Nye ii8 The Grammatical Boy — Nye . 56 The Gruesome Ballad of Mr. Squincher — Riley ... 5 The Man in the Moon — Riley 122 The Philanthropical Jay — Nye . 151 'i'.'HE Truth about Methusalah — Nye 102 fHE Tarheel Cow — Nye . . 112 The Rise and Fall of Wm. Johnson — Nye .... 46 The Rossville Lecture Course — Riley . . ... 109 Wanted a Fox — Nye . .... 190 Where He First Met his Parents — Nye i Where the Roads are Engaged in Forking — Nye . . yji While Cigarettes to Ashes Turn — Riley 17 1 Why it was Done— Nye & Riley xi Wlrj^re t|e First irjet i|is Par^ilts, Last week I visited my birthplace in the State of Maine. I waited thirty years for the public to visit it, and as there didn't seem to be much of a rush this spring, I thought I would go and visit it myself. I was telling a friend the other day that the public did not seem to manifest the interest in my birthplace that 1 thought it ought to, and he said I ought not to mind that. "Just wait," said he, "till the people of the United States have an opportunity to visit your tomb, and you will be surprised to see how they will run excursion trains up there to Moosehead lake, or wherever you plant yourself It will be a perfect picnic. Your hold on the American people, William, is wonderful, but your death would seem to assure it, and kind of crystallize the affection now existing, but still in a nebulous and gummy state." A man ought not to criticise his birthplace, I presume, fuid yet, if I were to do it all over again, I da not know 2 NYE AND RILEY'S RAILWAY GUIDE. whether I would select that particular spot or not. Some- times I think I would not. And yet, what memories cluster about that old house! There was the place where I first met my parents. It was at that time that an acquaintance sprang up which has ripened in later years into mutual respect and esteem. It was there that what might be termed a casual meeting took place, that has, under the alchemy of resistless years, turned to golden links, form- ing a pleasant but powerful bond of union between my parents and myself. For that reason, I hope that I may be spared to my parents for many years to come. Many memories now cluster about that old home, as I have said. There is, also, other bric-a-brac which has accu- mulated since I was born there. I took a small stone from the front yard as a kind of memento of the occasion and the place. I do not think it has been detected yet. There was another stone in the yard, so it may be weeks before any one finds out that I took one of them. How humble the home, and yet what a lesson it should teach the boys of America ! Here, amid the barren and inhospitable waste of rocks and cold, the last place in the world that a great, man would naturally select to be born in, began the life of one who, by his own unaided effort, in after years rose to the proud height of postmaster at Lara- mie City, Wy. T., and with an estimate of the future that seemed almost prophetic, resigned before he could be char- acterized as an offensive partisan. Here on the banks of the raging Piscataquis, where winter lingers in the lap of spring till it occasions a good deal of talk, there began a career which has been-the wonder and admiration of every vigilance committee west of the turbulent Missouri. There on that spot, with no inheritance but a predispo- sition to baldness and a bitter hatred of rum; with no personal property but a misfit suspender and a stone-bruise, WHERS. HB FIRST MET HIS PARENTS. 3 began a life history which has never ceased to be a warning to people who have sold goods on credit. It should teach the youth of our great, broad land what glorious possibilities may lie concealed in the rough and tough bosom of the reluctant present. It shows how steady perseverance and 3 good appetite will always win in the end. It teaches us that wealth is not indispensable, and that if we live as we should, draw out of politics at the proper time, and die a few days before the public absolutely demand it, the matter of our birthplace will not be consid- ered. Still, my birthplace is all right as a birthplacfe. It was a good, quiet place in which to be born. All the old neigh- bors said that Shirley was a' very quiet place up to the time I was born there, and when I took my parents by the hand and gently led them away in the spring of '53, saying, " Parents, this is no place for us," it again became quiet. It is the only birthplace I have, however, and I hope that all the readers of this sketch will feel perfectly free to go there any time and visit it and carry their dinner as I did. Extravagant cordiality and overflowing hospitality have always kept my birthplace back. Never talk back! sich things is ripperhensible; A feller only "corks" hisse'f that jaws a man that's hot; In a quarrel, ef you'll only, keep your movth shet and act sensible, The man that does the talkin'll git worsted every shot! Never talk back to a feller that's abusin' you — ■ Jest let him carry on, and rip, and cuss and swear; And when he finds his lyin' and his dammin's j^sl amusin' you, You've got him clean kaflummixed, and you want t(? hold him there! Never talk back, and wake up the whole community. And call a man a liar, over law, er Politics, — You can lift and land him furder and with gracefulle/ impunity With one good jolt of silence than a half a dozen kicks! T\]Q Graesoirje Ballad of " Ki-yi!" said Mr. Squincher, As in contemplative pose, He stood before the looking-gl&as And burnished up his nose, ' And brushed the dandruff from a span- Spick-splinter suit of clothes, — " Why, bless you, Mr. Squincher, "You're as handsome as a rose!' " There are some," continued Squin- cher, As he raised upon his toes To catch his full reflection. And the fascinating bows That graced his legs, — " I reckon There are sorp« folks never knows How beautiful is human legs In pantaloons like those !" Rjf NYE AND RILEY^S RAILWAY GUIDE. " But ah!" sighed Mr. Squincher, As a ghastly phantom 'rose And leered above his shoulder Like the deadliest of foes, — With fleshless arms and fingers, And a skull, with glistening rows Of teeth that crunched and gritted, — ■' Its my tailor, I suppose !" ******* They found him in the morning — So the mystic legend goes — With the placid face still smiling In its statuesque repose ; — With a lily in his left hand. And in his right a rose, With their fragrance curling upwara Through « nimbus 'round his iiOS». .A^iecdotes of Jay Goald, Facial Neuralgia is what is keeping Jay Gould back this summer and preventing him from making as much money as he would otherwise. With good health and his present methods of doing business Mr. Gould could in a few years be beyond the reach of want, but he is up so much nights with his '/// face tHat he has to keep one gas- jet burning all the time. Besides he has cabled once to Dr. Brown- Sequard for a neuralgia pill that he thought would relieve the in- tense pain, and found after he had paid for the cablegram that every druggist in New York kept the Brown-Sequard pill in stock. But when a man is ill he does not care for expense, especially when he controls an Atlantic cable or two. This neuralgia pill is about the size of a two-year-old colt and pure white. I have been compelled to take several of them myself while suffering from facial neuralgia; for neuralgia does not spare the good, the true or the beautiful. S NYE AND RILEVS RAILWAY GUIDE, She comes along and nips the poor yeoman as well as the millionaire who sits in the lap of luxury. Millionaires who flatter themselves that they can evade neuralgia by going and sitting in the lap of luxury make a great mistake. "And do you find that this large porcelain pill relieves you at all, Mr. Gould.'" I asked him during one of these attacks, as he sat in his studio with his face tied up in hot bran. "No, it does me no good whatever," said the man who likes to take a lame railroad and put it on its feet by issuing more bonds. "It contains a little morphine, which dulls the pain, but there's nothing in the pill to cure the cause. My neuralgia comes from indigestion. My appetite is four sizes too large for a man of my height and every little while I overeat. I then get dangerously ill and stocks be- come greatly depressed in consequence. I am now in a position where, if I had a constitution that would stand the strain, I could get well off in a few years, out I am not strong enough. Every little change in the weather affects me. I see a red-headed girl on the street and immediately after- wards I see one of these big white pills." "Are you sure, Mr. Gould?" I asked him with some solicitude, as I bent forward and inhaled the rich fragrance of the carnation in his button-hole, " that you have not taken cold in some way?'' " Possibly I have," he said, as he shrank back in a petu- lant way, I thought. " Last week I got my feet a little damp while playing the hose on some of my stocks, but I hardly think that was what caused the trouble. I am apt to over- eat, as I said. I am especially fond of fruit, too. When I was a boy I had no trouble, because I always divided my fruit with another boy, of whom I was very fond. I would always divide my fruit into two equal parts, keeping one of *hese and eating the other myself. Many and many a time wnen this boy and I went out together and only had one ANECDOTES OF JAY GOULD. 9 wormy apple between us, I have divided it and given him the worm. " As a boy, I was taught to believe that half is always better than the hole." " And are you not afraid that this neuralgia after it has picnicked around among your features may fly to your vitals?" " Possibly so," said Mr. Gould, snapping the hunting case of his massive silver watch with a loud report, " but I am guarding against this by keeping my pocketbook wrap- ped up all the time in an old red flannel shirt." Here Mr. Gould arose and went out of the room for a long time, and I could hear him pacing up and down out- side, stopping now and then to peer through the keyhole to io J\IYJi AND HiLEVS RAILWAY GUID&. see if I had gone away. But in each instance he was grat- ified to find that I had not. Lest any one should imagine that I took advantage of his absence to peruse his private correspondence, I will say here that I did not do so, as his desk was securely locked. Mr. Gould's habits are simple and he does not hold his cane by the middle when he walks. He wears plain clothes and his shirts and collars are both made of the same shade. He says he feels sorry for any one who has to wear a pink shirt with a blue collar. Some day he hopes to endow a home for young men who cannot afford to buy a shirt and a collar at the same store. He owes much of his neuralgia to a lack of exercise. Mr. Gould never takes any exercise at all. His reason for this is that he sees no prospect for exercise to advance in value. He says he is willing to take anything else but exercise. Up to within a very few years Jay Gould has always slept well at night, owing to regular hours for rising and retiring and his careful abstinence from tobacco and alco- hol. Lately neuralgia has kept him awake a good deal at night, but prior to that he used to sleep as sweetly and peacefully as a weasel. The story circulated some years ago to the effect that sk professional burglar broke into Mr. Gould's room in thf middle of the night and before he could call the police wai robbed of his tools, is not true. People who have no highet aim in life than the peddling about of such improbable yarns would do well to ascertain the truth of these reports before giving them circulation. The story that Mr. Gould once killed a steer and pre- sented his hoofs to the poor with the remark that it would help to keep sole and body together, also turned out to have no foundation whatever in fact, but was set afloat by an English wag who was passionately fond —^' JA'P/t^ tory, but as I could not see any of these implements in a perfected state I decided that it was safe and waited for me owner to arrive. 64 NYE AND RILEY'S RAILWAY GUIDE. After a time I heard a low guttural footstep approaching up the hill. I went to the door and exclaimed to the pro- prietor as he came, " Merry Christmas, Colonel." "Merry Christmas be d d!" said he in the same bantering tone. " What in three dashes, two hyphens and an asthonisher do you want here, you double-dashed and double-blanketed blank to dash and return!! " The wording here is my own, but it gives an idea of the way the conversation was drifting. You can see by his manner that literary people are not alone in being surly, irritable and unreasonable. So I humored him and spoke kindly to him and smoothed down his ruffled plumage with my gay badinage, for he wore a shawl and you can never tell whether a man wear- ing a shawl is aimed or not. I give herewith a view of this chemist as he appeared on the morning I met him. It will be noticed that he was a man about medium height with clear-cut features and hair and retreating brisket. His hair was dark and hung in great waves which seemed to have caught the sunlight and retained it together with a great many other atmospheric phenomena. He wore a straw hat, such as I once saw Horace Greeley catch grass- noppers in, on the banks of the Kinnickinnick, just before he caught a small trout. I spent some time with him watching him as he made his various experiments. Finally, he showed me a new beverage that he had been engaged in perfecting. It was inclosed in a dark brown stone receptacle and was held in place by a common corn-cob stopper. I took some of it in order to show that I confided in him. I do not remember anything else distinctly. The fumes of this drink went at once to my brain, where it had what might be termed a complete walkover. I now have no hesitation in saying that the fluid must have been alcoholic in its nature, for when I regained my THE CHEMIST OF THE CAROUNAS. 65 consciousness I was extremely elsewhere. I found myself on a road which seemed to lead in two opposite directions and my mind was very much confused. I hardly know how I got home, but I finally did get there, accompanied by a strong leaning towards Prohibi- tion. A few days ago I received the following letter: Sir : I at first thought when I saw you at my laboratory the other day that you was a low, inquisitive cuss and so I spoke to you in harsh tones and reproached you and upbraided you by calling you everything I could lay my tongue to, but since then I have concluded that you didn't know any better. You said to me that you found my place by seeing the smoke coming out of the chimbley ; that has given me an Ilea that you might know something about what's called a smoke consumer ol which I have heard. I am doing a fair business, but I am a good deal pestered, as you might say, by people who come in on me when I do not want to mingle in society. A man in the chemist business cannot succeed if he is all the time interrupted by Tom, Dick and Harry coming in on him when he is in the middle of an experiment. I am engaged in making a remedy for which there is a great demand, but its manufacture is regarded with suspicion by United States officials who want to be considered zealous. Rather than be drawn into any difficulty with these people, I have always courted retirement and avoided the busy haunts of men. Still some strolling idiot or other will occasionally see the smoke from my little home and drop in on me. Could you find out about this smoke consumer and see what the price would be and let me know as soon as possible ? If you could do so I can be of great service to you. Leave the letter under the big stone where you found yourself the other day when you came out of your trance. 1 call it a trance because this letter might fall into the hands of your family. If you will find out about this smoke consumer and leave the inform- ation where I have told you you will find on the following day a large jug of mountain dew in the same place that will make your hair grow and give a roseate hue to your otherwise gloomy life. Do not try to come here again^ It might compromise me, A man in your position may not have anything to risk, but with me it is different. My unsullied reputation is all I have to bequeath to my children. If you come often there will not be enough of it left to go around, as I have a large family. If you hear of anybody that wants to trade a good double-barrel shotgun for a small portable worm and retort that is too small for my business, I can give him a good trade on it if he will let you know. This is a good machine for experimental purposes, and being no larger than a Babcock fire-extinguisher it can be readily conveyed to a place of safety at a very rapid rate. You might say to your friends that we shall try in the future as we have in the past to keep up the standard of our goods, so as to merit a continued patronage. 66 NYE AND RILEVS RAILWAY GUIDE. Citizens of the United States, or those who have declared their intention to become such, will always be welcome at our works, provided they are not office-holders in any capacity. We have no use for those who are in any way connected with the public teat. I. B. MOONSHINE. Dictated letter. I hope that any one will feel perfectly free to address me in relation to anything referred to in the above letter. All communications containing remittances will be regarded as strictly confidentral. The Crankadox leaned o'er the edge of the moon And wistfully gazed on the sea Where the Gryxabodill madly whistled a tune To the air of " Ti-fol-de-ding-dee." The quavering shriek of the Fliupthecreek Was fitfully wafted afar To the Queen of the Wunks as she powdered her cheek With the pulverized rays of a star. The Gool closed his ear on the voice of the Grig, And his heart it grew heavy as lead As he marked the Baldekin adjusting his wig On the opposite side of his head ; And the air it grew chill as the Gryxabodill Raised his dank, dripping fins to the skies. To plead with the Plunk for the use of lier bill To pick the tears out of his eyes. The ghost of the Zhack flitted by in a trance ; And the Squidjum hid under a tub As he heard the loud hooves of the Kooken advance With a rub-a-dub-dub-a-dub dub ! And the Crankadox cried as he laid down and died, " My fate there is none to bewail!" While the Queen of the Wunks drifted over the tide With a long piece of crape to her tail. "Ring the bell and the door will open," is the remark made by a small label over a bell-handle in Third avenue, near Eighteenth street, where Mme. La Foy reads the past, present and future at so much per read. Love, marriage, divorce, illness, speculation and sickness are there handled with the utmost impunity by "Mme. La Foy, the famous scientific astrologist," who has monkeyed with the planets for twenty years, and if she wanted any information has "read it in the stars." I rang the bell the other day to see if the door would open. It did so after considerable delay, and a pimply boy in knee pants showed me upstairs into the waiting-room. After a while I was removed to the consultation-room, where PRYING OP EM THE FUTURE, 69 Mme. La Foy, seated behind a small oil-cloth covered table, rakes up old personalities and pries into the future at cut rates. Skirmishing about among the planets for twenty years involves a great deal of fatigue and exposure, to say nothing of the night work, and so Mme. La Foy has the air of one who has put in a very busy life. She is as familiar with planets though as you or I might be with oar own family, and calls them by their first names. She would know Jupi- ter, Venus, Saturn, Adonis or any of the other fixed stars the darkest night that ever blew. "Mme. La Foy De Graw," said I, bowing with the easy grace of a gentleman of the old school, "would you mind peering into the future for me about a half dollar's worth, not necessarily for publication, et cetera." "Certainly not. "What would you like to know?" "Why, I want to know all I can for the money," I said in a bantering tone. "Of course I do not wish to know what I already know. It is what I do not now know that I desire to know. Tell me what I do not know, Madame. I will detain you but a moment." She gave me back my large, round half dollar and told me that she was already weary. She asked me to excuse her. She was willing to unveil the future to me in her poor, weak way, but she could not guarantee to let a large flood of light into the darkened basement of a benighted mind for half a dollar. " You can tell me what year and on what day of what month you were born," said Mme. La Foy, " and I will outline your life to you. I generally require a lock of the hair, but in your case we will dispense with it." I told her when I was born and the circumstances as well as I could recall them. " This brings you under Venus, Mercury and Mars. These three planets were in corxjunction at the time of your 70 NYE AND HILBY^S RAILWAY GUIDE. birth, You were born when the sign was wrong and you have had more or less trouble ever since. Had you been born when the sign was in the head or the heart, instead of the feet, you would not have spread out over the ground so much. " Your health is very good, as is the health of those generally who are born under the same auspices that you were. People who are born under the reign of the crab are apt to be cancerous. You, however, have great lung power and wonderful gastric possibilities. Yet, at times, you would be easily upset. A strong cyclone that would unroof a court- house or tip over a through train would also upset you, in spite of your broad, firm feet if the wind got behind one of your ears. " You will be married early and you will be very happy, though your wife will not enjoy herself very much. Your wife will be much happier during her second marriage. " You will prosper better in business matters without forming any partnerships. Do not go into partnership with a small, dark man who has neuralgia and a fine yacht. He has abundant means, but he will go through you like an electric shock. " Tuesdays and Saturdays will be your most fortunate days on which to borrow money of men with light hair. Mondays and Thursdays will be your best days for approach- ing dark men. " Look out for a low-sot man accompanied by an office cat, both of whom are engaged in the newspaper business. He is crafty and bald-headed on his father's side. He prints the only paper that contains the full text of his speeches at testimonials and dinners given to other people. Do not loan him money on any account. " You would succeed well as a musician or an inventor, but you would not do well as a poet. You have all the keen PRYING OPEN THE FUTURE. ^t sensibility and strong passion of a poet, but you haven't the hair. Do not try poesy. " In the future I see you very prosperous. You are on the lecture platform speaking. Large crowds of people are jostling each other at the box-office and trying to get their money back. " Then I see you riding behind a flexible horse that must have cost a large sum of money. You are smoking a cigar that has never been in use before. Then Venus bisects the orbit of Mars and I see you going home with your head tied up in the lap robe, you and your spirited horse in the same ambulance." "But do you see anything for me in the future, Mme. La Foy ?" I asked, taking my feet off the table, the better to watch her features; "anything that would seem to indicate political preferment, a reward for past services to my coun- try, as it were?" "No, not clearly. But wait a moment. Your horoscope begins to get a little more intelligent. I see you at the door of the Senate Chamber. You are counting over your money and looking sadly at a schedule of prices. Then you turn sorrowfully away and decide to buy a seat in the House instead. Many years after I see you in the Senate. You are there day after day attending to your duties. You are there early, before any one else, and I see you pacing back and forth, up and down the aisles, sweeping out the Senate Chamber and dusting off the seats and rejuvenating the cuspidors." "Does this horoscope which you are using this season give you any idea as to whether money matters will be scarce with me next week or otherwise, and if so what I had better do about it?" "Towards the last of the week you will experience con- siderable monetary prostration, but just as you have become despondent, at the very tail end of the week, the horizon 72 NYE AND RILEVS RAILWAY GUIDE. will clear up and a slight, dark gentleman, with wide trou- sers, who is a total stranger to you, will loan you quite a sum of money, with the understanding that it is to be repaid on Monday." "Then you would not advise me to go to Coney Island until the week after next?" "Certainly not." "Would it be etiquette in dancing a quadrille to swing a young person of the opposite sex twice round at a select party when you are but slightly acquainted, but feel quite confident that her partner is unarmed?" "Yes." "Does your horoscope tell a person what to do with raspberry jelly that will not jell?" "No, not at the present prices." "So you predict an early marriage, with threatening weather and strong prevailing easterly winds along the Gulf States?" "Yes, sir." "And is there no way that this early marriage may be evaded?" "No, not unless you put it off till later in lite." "Thank you," I said, rising and looking out the window over a broad sweep of undulating alley and wind-swept roofing, "and now, how much are you out on this?" "Sir!" "What's the damage?" "Oh, one dollar." "But don't you advertise to read the past, present and future for fifty cents?" "Well, that is where a person has had other information before in his life and has some knowledge to begin with; but wh&re I fill up a vacant mind entirely and store it with facts of all kinds and stock it up so that it can do business PRYING OPEN THE FUTURE. 73 for itself, I charge a dollar. I cannot thoroughly refit and refurnish a mental tenement from the ground up for fifty cents." I do not think we have as good "Astrologists" now as we used to have. Astrologists cannot crawl under the tent and pry into the future as they could three or four thou- sand years ago. I like me yet dot leedle chile Vicli climb my lap up in to- day, Unt took my cheap cigair avay, Unt laugh and kiss me purty- whvile, — Possescially I like dose mout' Vich taste his moder's like — unt so, Off my cigair it gone glean out — Yust let it go ! Vat I caire den for anyding ? Der paper schlip out fon my hand, Mr. SILBERBERC. 75 And all my odvairtizement stand, Mltout new changements boddering; I only dink — I have me dis Von leedle boy to pet unt love Unt play me vit, unt hug unt kiss — Unt dot's enough ! Der plans unt pairposes I vear Out in der vorld all fades avay ; Unt vit der beeznid of der day I got me den no time to spare ; Der caires of trade vas caires no more — • Dem cash accounds dey dodge me by, Unt vit my chile I roll der floor, Unt laugh unt gry ! Ah ! frient ! dem childens is der ones Dot got some happy times — you bet ! — Dot's vy ven I been growed up yet I vish I vould been leedle vonce ! Unt ven dot leetle roozter tries Dem baby-tricks I used to do, My mout it vater, unt my eyes Dey vater too ! Unt all der summertime unt spring Of childhood it come back to me, So dot it vas a dream I see Ven I yust look at anyding, Unt ven dot leedle boy run by, I dink "dot's me," fon hour to hour Schtill chasing yet dose butterfly Fon flower to flower ! Oxpose I vas lots money vairt, Mit blenty schtone-front schtore to rent, Unt mor 'gages at twelf per-cent, 76 NYE AND hiLEVS RAILWAY GUIDE. Unt diamonds in my ruffled shairt, — I make a'signment of all dot, Unt taim it over mit a schmile, Obber you pie ase — but don 'd forgot, I keep dot chile ! spirits at tfoitje, (THE FAMILY.) There was Father, and Mother, and Emmy, and Jane, And Lou, and Ellen, and John and me — And father was killed in the war, and Lou She died of consumption, and John did too. And Emmy she went with the pleurisy. (THE SPIRITS.) Father believed in 'em all his life — But Mother, at first, she'd shake her head — Till after the battle of Champion Hill, When many a flag in the winder-sill Had crape mixed in with the white and red! I used to doubt 'em myself till then — But me and Mother was satisfied When Ellen she set, and Father came And rapped " God bless you ! " and Mother's name, And " The flag's up here ! " And we just all cried - Used to come often after that, And talk to us — just as he used to do, Pleasantest kind ! And once, for John, He said he was "lonesome but wouldn't let on — Fear mother would worry, and Emmy and Lou." But Lou was the bravest girl on earth — For all she never was hale and strong She'd have her fun ! With her voice clean lost She'd laugh and joke us that when she crossed To father, we^d all come taggin' along ■. 78 NYE AND KILEVS RAILWAY GUIDE. Died — just that way ! And the raps was thick Thai night, as they often since occur, Extry loud. And when Lou got back She said it was Father and her — and " whack! " She tuck the table — and we knowed her ! John and Emmy, in five years more, Both had went. — And it seemed like fate ! — For the old home it burnt down, — but Jane And me and Ellen we built again The new house, here, on the old estate. And a happier family I don't know Of anywheres — unless its them — Father, with all his love for Lou, And her there with him, and healthy, too. And laughin', with John and little Em. And, first we moved in the new house here, They all dropped in for a long pow-wow. " We like your buildin', of course," Lou said, — " But wouldn't swop with you to save your head — For we live in the ghost of the old house, now! " In an interview which I have just had with myself, I have pos- itively stated, and now repeal, that at neither the St. Louis nor Chicago Convention will my name be presented as a candi- date. But my health is bully. We are upon the threshold of a most bitter and acrimonious fight. Great wisdom and fore- sight are needed at this hour, and the true patriot will forget himself and his own interests in his great yearning for the good of his common country and the success of his party. What we need at this time is a leader whose name will not be presented at the convention but whose health is good. No one has a fuller or better conception of the great duties of the hour than I. How clearly to my mind are the duties of the American citizen outlined today! I have never seen with clearer, keener vision the great needs of 8o NYE AND RILEVS RAILWAY GUIDE. my country, and my pores have never been more open. Four years ago I was in some doubt relative to certain important questions which now are clearly and satisfactorily settled in my mind. I hesitated then where now I am fully established, and my tongue was coated in the morning when I arose, whereas now I bound lightly from bed, kick out i window, climb to the roof by means of the fire-escape and there rehearse speeches which I will make this fall in case it should be discovered at either of the conventions that my name alone can heal the rupture in the party and prevent its works from falling out. I think my voice is better also than it was either four. eight, twelve or sixteen years ago, and it does not tire me so much to think of things to say from the tail-gate of a train as it did when I first began to refrain from presenting my name to conventions. According to my notion, our candidate should be a plain man, a magnetic but hairless patriot, who should be sud- denly thought of by a majority of the convention and nominated by acclamation. He should not be a hide bound politician, but on the contrary he should be greatly startled, wh'le down cellar sprouting potatoes, to learn that he has been nominated. That's the kind of man who always sur- prises everybody with his sagacity when an emergency arises. In going down my cellar stairs the committee will do well to avoid stepping on a large and venomous dog who sleeps on the top stair. Or I will tie him in the barn if I can be informed when I am liable to be startled. I have always thought that the neatest method of calling a man to public life was the one adopted some years since in the case of Cincinnatus. He was one day breaking a pair of nervous red steers in the north field. It was a hot day in July, and he was trying to summer falloAV a piece of ground where the jimson weeds grew seven feet high. The plough would not scour, and the steers had turned the yoke twice on him. Cincinnatus had hung his toga on a tamarac pole to strike a furrow by, and hadn't succeeded in getting the plough in more than twice in going across. Dressing as he did in the Roman costume of 458 B. C, the blackberry vines had scratched his massive legs till they were a sight to behold. He had scourged Old Bright and twisted the tail of Bolly till he was sick at heart. All through the long afternoon, wearing a hot, rusty helmet with rabbit-skin ear tabs he had toiled on, when suddenly a majority of the Roman voters climbed over the fence aj-ear Sir — You are too late. As I write this letter, there is a string of men extending from my office door clear down to the Soldiers" Home. All ol them want to be employes. This crowd embraces the Senate and House ol Representatives of the Wisconsin Legislature, Stale officials, judges, journal- ists, jurors, justices of the peace, orphans, overseers of highways, fish commis- sioners, pugilists, widows of pugilists,, unidentified orphans of pugilists, etc., ■ jtc, and they are all just about as well qualified to be employes as you are. I suppose you would poultice a hot box with pounded ice, and so would 'hey. I am sorry to hear about your lame leg. The surgeon of our road says perhaps you do not use it enough. Yc'urs for the thorough enforcement of law, A. V. H. Carpenter. Per G. Not having written to Mr. Hughitt of the Northwestern road for a long time, and fearing that he might think I had grown cold toward him, I wrote the following note on the 9th: Asheville. N. C Feb. 9, 1887. Marvin Hughitt, Second Vice-President and General Manager Chicago & Northwestern Railway, Chicago, 111. Dear Sir — Exuse me for not writing before. I did not wish to write you until I could do so in a bright and cheery manner, and for some weeks I have been the hot-bed of twenty-one E^rly Rose boils. It was extremely humorous without being funny. My enemies gloated over me in ghoulish glee. I see by a recent statement in the press that your road has greatly in- creased in business. Do you feel the need of an employe? Any light em- ployment that will be honorable without involving too much perspiration would be acceptable. I am traveling about a good deal these days, and if I can do you any good as an agent or in referring to your smooth road-bed and the magnificent scenery along your line, I would be glad to regard that in the light of employ- ment. Everywhere I go I hear your road very highly spoken of. Yours truly, BILL NvE. I shall write to some more roads in a few weeks. It "eeins to me there ought to be work for a man who is able and willing to be an employe. (00 NYE AND JilLEY S XAILWAI GUIDE. '§ Tliat Ni^l|t. m\ ^'ou and I, and that night, with its per- fume and glory! — The scent of the lo- custs — the light of the moon, Ana the violin weaving the waltzers a story, Enmeshing their feet in the weft of the tune, Till their shadows uncertain, Reeled round on the curtain, While under the trellis we drank in tne June. Soaked through with the midnight, the cedars were sleeping, THAT NIGHT. lOl Their shadowy tresses outlined in the bright Crystal, moon-smitten mists, where the fountain's heart leaping Forever, forever burst, full with delight ; And its lisp on my spirit Fell faint as that near it Whose love like a Hly bloomed out in the night. O your glove was an odorous sachet of blisses! The breath of your fan was a breeze from Cathay ! And the rose at your throat was a nest of spilled kisses ! — And the music ! — in fancy I hear it to-day, As I sit here, confessing Our secret, and blessing My rival who found us, and waltzed you away- E first meet Methuselah in the capac- itjf of a son. At the age of sixty-five Enoch arose one night and teleplioni.il his family physician to come over and assist him in meeting Methuselah. Day at last dawned on Enoch's happy home, and its first red rays lit up the still redder surface of the little strang- er. For three hun- dred years Enoch and Methuselah jogged along to- gether in the capac- ity of father and son. Then Enoch was suddenly cut down. It was at this time that little Methuselah first realized what it was to be an orphan. He could not at first realize that his father was dead. He could not understand why Enoch, with no inherited disease, should be shuffled off at the age of three hundred and THE TRUTH ABOUT METHUSELAH. 103 sixty-five years. But the doctor said to Methuselah : " My son, you are indeed fatherless. I have done all I could, but it is useless. I have told Enoch many a time that if he went in swimming before the ice went out of the creek it would finally down him, but he thought he knew better than I did. He was a headstrong man, Enoch was. He sneered at me and alluded to me as a fresh young gosling, because he was three hundred years older than I was. He has received the reward of the willful, and verily the doom of the smart Aleck is his." Methuselah now cast ab»i.it him for some occupation which would take up his atttention and assuage his wild, passionate grief over the loss of his father. He entered into the walks of men and learned their ways. It was at this time that he learned the pernicious habit of using tobacco. We cannot wonder at it when we remember that he was now fatherless. He was at the mercy of the coarse, rough world. Possibly he learned the use of tobacco when he went away to attend business college after the death of his father. Be that as it may, the noxious weed certainly hastened his death, for six hundred years after this we find him a corpse ! Death is eve." a surprise, even at the end of a long illness and after a ripe old age. To those who are near it seems abrupt ; so to his grandchildren, some of whom sur- vived him, his children having died of old age, the death of Methuselah came like a thunderbolt from a clear sky. Methuselah succeeded in cording up more of a record, such as it was, than any other man of whom history informs us. Time, the tomb-builder and amateur mower came and leaned over the front yard and looked at Methu- selah, and ran his thumb over the jagged edge of his scythe, and went away whistling a low refrain. He kept up this refrain business for nearly ten centuries, while 104 NYE AND R/LEVS RAILWAY GUIDE. Methuselah continued to stand out amid the general wreck of men and nations. Even as the young, strong mower going forth with his mower for to mow spareth the tall and drab hornet's nest and passeth by on the other side, so Time, with his Waterbury hour-glass and his overworked hay-knife over his shoulder, and his long Mormon whiskers, and his high sleek dome of thought with its gray lambrequin of hair around the base of it, mowed all around Methuselah and then passed on. Methuselah decorated the graves of those who perished in a dozen different wars. He did not enlist himself, for over nine hundred years of his life he was exempt. He would go to the enlisting places and offer his services, and the officer would tell him to go home and encourage his grandchildren to go. Then Methuselah would sit around Noah's front steps, and smoke and criticise the conduct of the war, also the conduct of the enemy. It is said of Methuselah that he never was the same man after his son Lamech died. He was greatly attached to Lamech, and, when he woke up one night to find his son purple in the face with membraneous croup, he could hardly realize that he might lose him. The idea of losing a boy who had just rounded the glorious morn of his 777th year had never occurred to him. But death loves a shining mark, and he garnered little Lammie and left Methuselah to mourn for a couple of centuries. Methuselah finally got so that he couldn't sleep any later than 4 o'clock in the morning, and he didn't see how any one else could. The older he got, and the less valuable his time became, the earlier he would rise, so that he could get an early start. As the centuries filed slowly by, and Methuselah got to where all he had to do was to shuffle into his loose-fitting clothes and rest his gums on the top of a large slick-headed cane and mutter up the chimney, and THE TRUTH ABOUT METHUSELAH. 105 then groan and extricate himself from his clothes again and retire, he rose earlier and earlier in the morning, and mut- tered more and more about the young folks sleeping away the best of the day, and he said he had no doubt that sleep- ing and snoring till breakfast time helped to carry off Lam. But one day old Father Time came along with a new scythe, and he drew the whetstone across it a few times, and rolled the sleeves of his red-flannel undergarment up over his warty elbows, and Mr. Methuselah passed on to that undiscovered country, with a ripe experience and a long, clean record. We can almost fancy how the physicians, who had disa- greed about his case all the' way through, came and insisted on a post-mortem examination to prove which was right and what was really the matter with him. We can imagine how people went by shaking their heads and regretting that Methuselah should have tampered with tobacco when he knew that it affected his heart. But he is gone. He lived to see his own promissory notes rise, flourish, acquire interest, pine away at last and finally outlaw. He acquired a large farm in the very heart of the county-seat, and refused to move or to plot, and called it Methuselah's addition. He came out in spring regularly for nine hundred years after he got too old to work out his poll-tax on the road, and put in his time telling the rising generation how to make a good road. Meantime other old people, who were almost one hundred years of age, moved away and went West where they would attract attention and command respect. There was actually no pleasure in getting old around where Methuselah was, and being ordered about and scolded and kept in the background by him. So, when at last he died, people sighed and said : "Well, it was better for him to die before he got childish. It was best that he should die at a time when he knew it all. We fjb NYE AND RILEY^^ .iAILTVAY CUTDE. can't help thinking what an acquisition Methuselah will be on the evergreen shore when he gets there, with all his ripe lixperience and his habits of early rising." And the next morning after the funeral Methuselah's family did not get out of bed till nearly 9 o'clock. A JBlacl^ Irfills BpisodQ, A little, warty, dried-up sort O' lookin' chap 'at hadn't ort A ben a-usin' round no bar, With gents like us a-drinkin' thar! And that idee occurred to me The livin' minit 'at I see The little cuss elbowin' in To humor his besettin' sin. There 're nothin' small in me at all, But when I heerthe rooster call For shugar and a spoon, I says: "Jest got in from the States, I guess." He never 'peared as if he heerd, But stood thar, wipin' uv his beard, And smilin' to hisself as if I'd been a-givin' him a stiff. And I-says-I, a edgin' by The bantam, and a-gazin' high Above his plug — says I : "I knowed A little feller onc't 'at blowed "Around like you, and tuck his drinks With shugar in — and his folks thinks He's dead now — 'cause we boxed and sent The scraps back to the Settlement!" ***** The boys tells me, 'at got to see I08 NYE AND RILEVS RAILWAY GUIDE. His modus operandum, he Jest 'peared to come onjointed-like Afore he ever struck a strike ! And I'll admit, the way he fit Wuz dazzlin' — what I see uv hit; And squarin' things up fair and fine, Says I : "A little 'shug' in mine!" Ti|e E^ossVill^ Leotiire Coiirse. RossviLLE, Mich., March '87. — OLKS up here at Rossville got up a lectur'-course ; All the leadin' citizens they wus out in force; Met and talked at Williamses, and 'greed to meet agin, And helt another corkus when the next reports wuz in ; Met agin at Samuelses ; and met agin at Moore's, And Johnts he put the shutters up and jest barred the doors ! — And yit, I'll jest be dagg-don'd ! ef didn't take a week 'Fore we'd settled where to write to git a man to speak ! Found out where the Bureau wus, and then and there agreed To strike while the iron's hot, and foUer up the lead. no NYE AND RILEVS RAILWAY GUIDE. Simp was secatary ; so he tuck his pen in hand, And ast what they'd tax us for the one on " Holy Land "— • 'One of Colonel J. De-Koombs Abelust and Best l^ecturs," the circ'lar stated, " Give East er West! '' Wanted fifty dollars, and his kyar-fare to and from. And Simp was hence instructed fer to write him not to come. Then we talked and jawed around another week er so, And writ the Bureau 'bout the town a-bein' sort o' slow And fogey-like, and pore as dirt, and lackin' enterprise. And ignornter'n any other 'cordin' to its size : Till finally the Bureau said they'd send a cheaper man Fer forty dollars, who would give "A Talk About Japan" — " A regular Japanee hiss'f," the pamphlet claimed; and so, Nobody knowed his languige, and of course we let him go ! Kindo' then let up a spell — but rallied onc't ag'in, And writ to price a feller on what's called the "violin" — A Swede, er Pole, er somepin — but no matter what he wus, Doc Sifers said he'd heerd him, and he wusn't wuth a kuss ! And then we ast fer Swingses terms ; and Cook, and IngersoU — And blame! ef forty dollars looked like anything at all! And then Burdette, we tried fer him ; and Bob he writ to say He was busy writin' ortographts, and couldn't git away. At last — along in Aprile — we signed to take this-here Bill Nye of Californy, 'at was posted to appear "The Humorestest Funny Man 'at Ever Jammed a Hall! " So we made big preparations, and swep' out the church and all! THE ROSSViLLE LECTURE COURSE. Ill And night he wus to lectur', and the neighbors all was there, And strangers packed along the aisles 'at come from ever'- where, Committee got a telegrapht the preacher read, 'at run — "Got off at Rossville, Indiany, 'stead of Michigun." Tlie Tar-tieel Cow, ASHEVILLE, N. C, December 9. — There i$ no place in the United States, so far as I know, where the cow is more versatile or ambidex- trous, if I may be al- lowed the use of a term that is far above my station in life, than here in the mountains of North Carolina, where the obese 'possum and the anonymous distiller have their homes. Not only is the Tar- heel cow the author of a pale, but athletic style of butter, but in her leisure hours she aids in tilling the perpen- dicular farm on the hillside, or draws the products to market. In this way she contrives to put in her time to the best advantage, and when she dies, it casts a gloom over the com- munity in which she has resided. THE TAR-HEEL COW. 113 The life of a North Carolina cow is indeed fraught with various changes and saturated with a zeal which is praise- worthy in the extreme. From the sunny days when she gambols through the beautiful valleys, inserting her black retrousse and perspiration-dotted nose into the blue grass from ear to ear, until at life's close, when every part and por- tion of her overworked system is turned into food, raiment or overcoat buttons, the life of a Tar-heel cow is one of intense activity. Her girlhood is short, and almostbefore we have deemed her emancipated from calfhood herself we find her in the capacity of a mother. With the cares of maternity other demands are quickly made upon her. She is obliged to ostracize herself from society, and enter into the prosaic details of producing small, pallid globules of butter, the very pallor of which so thoroughly belies its lusty strength. The butter she turns out rapidly until it begins to be worth something, when she suddenly suspends publi- cation and begins to haul wood to market. In this great work she is assisted by the pearl-gray or ecru ' colored jackass o f the tepid South. This animal has been referred to in the newspapers throughout the country, and yet he never ceases to be an object of the greatest interest. Jackasses in the South are of two kinds, viz., male and female. Much as has been said of the jackass pro and con, It4 NYE AND RILEVS RAILWAY GUIDE. I do not remember ever to have seen the above statement in print before, and yet it is as trite as it is incontrovertible. In the Rocky mountains we call this animal the burro. There he packs bacon, flour and salt to the miners. The miners eat the bacon and flour, and with the salt they are enabled successfully to salt the mines. The burro has a low, contralto voice which ought to have some machine oil on it. The voice of this animal is not unpleasant if he would pull some of the pathos out of it and make it more joyous. Here the jackass at times becomes a co-worker with the cow in hauling tobacco and other necessaries of life into town, but he goes no further in the matter of assistance. He compels her to tread the cheese press alone and con- tributes nothing whatever in the way of assistance for the Gutter industry. The North Carolina cow is frequently seen here driven double or single by means of a small rope line attached to .t. tall, emaciated gentleman, who is generally clothed with the divine right of suffrage, to which he adds a small pair of ear- bobbs during the holidays. The cow is attached to each shaft and a small singletree, or swingletree, by means of a broad strap harness. She also wears a: breeching, in which respect she frequently has the advantage of her escort. I think I have never witnessed a sadder sight than that of a new milch cow, torn away from home and friends and kindred dear, descending a steep, mountain road at a rapid rate and striving in her poor, weak manner to keep out of the way of a small Jackson Democratic wagon loaded with a big hogshead full of tobacco. It seems to me so totally foreign to the nature of the cow to enter into the tobacco traffic, a line of business for which she can have no sympa- thy and in which she certainly can feel very little interest. Tobacco of the very finest kind is produced here, and is THE TAR-HEEL COW. 115 used mainly for smoking purposes. It is the highest-price tobacco produced in this country. A tobacco broker her& yesterday showed me a large quantity of what he called export tobacco. It looks very much like other tobacco while growing. He says that foreigners use a great deal of this kind. 1 am learning all about the tobacco industry while here, and as fast as I get hold of any new facts I will communicate them to the press. The newspapers of this country have done much for me, not only by publishing many pleasant things about me, but by refraining from publishing othei things about me, and so I am glad to be able, now and then, to repay this kindness by furnishing information and facts for which I have no use myself, but which may be of incal- culable value to the press. As I write these lines I am informed that the snow is twenty-six inches deep here and four feet deep at High Point in this State. People who did not bring in their pome- granates last evening are bitterly bewailing their thoughtless- ness today. A great many people come here from various parts of the world, for the climate. When they have remained here forgone winter, however, they decide to leave it where it is. It is said that the climate here is very much like that of Turin. But I did not intend to go to Turin even before I heard about that. Please s.end my paper to the same address, and if some one who knows a good remedy for chilblains will contribute it to these columns, I shall watch for it with great interest. Yours as here 2 4, Bill Nye. P. S. — I should have said, relative to the cow of this State that if the owners would work their butter more and their cows less, they would confer a great boon on the con- sumer of both. B. N. A CiiaraQter, Swallowed up in gulfs of tho't — Eye-glass fixed — on— who knows what? We but know he sees us not. Chance upon him, here and there — Base-ball park — Industri- al Fair — Broadway — Long Branch — anywhere ! Even at the races, — yet With his eye-glass tranced and set On some dream-land minaret. At the beach, the where, perchance — Tenderest of eyes may glance On the fitness of his pants. Vain ! all admiration — vain ! His mouth, o'er and oer again, Absently absorbs his cane. Vain, as wgll, all tribute paid To his morning coat, inlaid With crossbars of every shade. A CflARACTEk. lU He is so oblivious, tho' We played checkers to and fro On his back — he would not know. II. So removed — illustrious — Peace! kiss hands, and leave him thusj He hath never need of us ! Come away ! Enough ! Let be ! Purest praise, to such as he, Were as basest obloquy. Vex no more that mind of his, We, to him, are but as phizz Un <) pop that knows it is. Haj. 1 1, even as we prate Of t'Cn HERE — in astral state — Or jc :kastral — he, elate, Brou. es 'round, with sportive hops In fa fields of sphery crops, Nibbl ng stars like clover-tops. He, occult and psychic, may Now be solving why to-day Is not midnight. — But away! Cease vain queries ! Let us go ! Leave him all unfathomed. — Lo, He can hear his whiskers grow. T\]Q Diary of Darihs T, Sl^ir]r|er, "Fifth Avenue Hotel, New York, Dec. 31, 188 . — It hardly seems possible that I am here in New York, puttins up at a hotel where it costs me $5 or $6 a day just simply to exist. I came here from my far away-home entirely alone. I have no business here, but I sinlply desired to rub up THE DIARY OF DARIUS, T. SKINNER. 119 against greatness for awhile. I need polish, and I am smart enough to know it. "I write this entry in my diary to explain who I am and to help identify myself in case I should come home to my room intoxicated some night and blow out the gas. "The reason I am here is, that last summer while whack- ing bulls, which is really my business, I grub-staked Alonzo McReddy and forgot about it till I got back and the boys told me that Lon had struck a First National bank in the shape of the Sarah Waters claim. He was then very low with mountain fever and so nobody felt like jumping the claim. Saturday afternoon Alonzo passed away and left me the Sarah Waters. That's the only sad thing about the whole business now. I am raised from bull-whacking to affluence, but Alonzo is not here. How we would take in the town together if he'd lived, for the Sarah Waters was enough to make us both well fixed. "I can imagine Lon's look of surprise and pride as he looks over the outer battlements of the New Jerusalem and watches me paint the town. Little did Lon think when I pulled out across the flat with my whiskers full of alkali dust and my cuticle full of raw agency whisky, that inside of a year I would be a nabob, wearing biled shirts every single day of my life, and clothes made specially for me. "Life is full of sudden turns, and no one knows here in America where he'll be in two weeks from now. I may be back there associating with greasers again as of yore and skinning the same bulls that I have heretofore skun. "Last evening I went to see 'The Mikado,' a kind ot singing theatre and Chinese walk-around. It is what I would call no good. It is acted out by different people who claim they are Chinamen, I reckon. They teeter around on the stage and sing in the English language, but their clothes are peculiar. A homely man, who played that he 120 NYE AND RJLEVS RAILWAY GUIDE. was the lord high executioner and chairman of the vigilance committee, wore a pair of wide, bandana pants, which came off during the first act. He was cool and collected, though, and so caught them before it was everlasting too late. He held them on by one hand while he sang the rest of his piece, and when he left the stage the audience heartlessly whooped for him to come back. " 'The Mikado' is not funny or instructive as a general thing, but last night it was accidently facetious. It has too much singing and not enough vocal music about it. There is also an overplus of conversation through the thing that seems like talking at a mark for $2 a week. It may be owing to my simple ways, but 'The Mikado' is too rich for my blood. ''We live well here at the Fifth Avenue. The man that owns the place puts two silver forks and a clean tablecloth on my table every day, and the young fellows that pass the grub around are so well dressed that it seems sassy and pre- sumptious for me to bother them by asking them to bring me stuff when I'd just as soon go and get it myself and nothing else in the world to do. "I told the waiter at my table yesterday that when he got time I wished he would come up to my room and we could have a game of old sledge. He is a nice young man, and puts himself out a good deal to make me comfortable. "I found something yesterday at the table that bothered me. It was a new kind of a silver dingus, with two handles to it, for getting a lump of sugar into your tea. I saw right away that it was for that, but when I took the two handles in my hand like a nut cracker and tried to scoop up a lump of sugar with it I felt embarrassed. Several people who were total strangers to me smiled. "After dinner the waiter brought me a little pink-glass bowl of lemonade and a clean wipe to dry my mouth with, THE DIARY OF DARIUS, T. SKINNER. 121 I reckon, after I drank the lemonade. I do not pine for lemonade much, anyhow, but this was specially poor. It was just plain water, with a lemon rind and no sugar into it. '' One rural rooster from Pittsburg showed his contempt for the blamed stuff by washing his hands in it. I may be rough and uncouth in my style, but I hope I will never lower myself like that in company." O, The Man in the Moon has a crick in his back; Whee! Whimm! Ain't you sorry for him? And a mole on his nose that is purple and black; And his eyes are so weak that they water and run If he dares to dream even he looks at the sun, — So he just dreams of stars, as the doctors advise — My! Eyes! But isn't he wise — To just dream of stars, as the doctors advise? And The Man in the Moon has a boil on his ear — Whee! Whing! What a singular thing! I know; but these facts are authentic, my dear, — There's a boil on his ear, and a corn on his chin — He calls it a dimple, — but dimples stick in — Yet it might be a dimple turned over, you know; Whang! Ho! THE MAN IN THE MOON. iSfj Why, certainly so! — It might be a dimple turned over, you know! And The Man in the Moon has a rheumatic knee- Gee! Whizz! What a pity that is! And k-ls toes have worked round where his heels ought to be. — So whenever he wants to go North he goes South, And comes back with porridge-crumbs all round his mouth, And he brushes them off with a Japanese fan, Whing! Whan-n! What a marvelous man! What a very remarkably marvelous man! I watch him, with his Christmas sled; He hitches on behind A passing sleigh, with glad hooray, And whistles down the wind; He hears the horses champ their bits, "^-"^ ''"^ And bells that jingle-jingle — You Woolly Cap ! you Scarlet Mitts ! You miniature " Kriss Kringle!' I almost catch your secret joy — Your chucklings of delight, The while you whizz where glory is Eternally in sight ! With you I catch my breath, as swift Your jaunty sled goes gliding O'er glassy track and shallow drift, As I behind were riding ! HIS CHRISTMAS SLED, 125 He winks at twinklings of the frost, And on his airy race, Its tingles beat to redder heat The rapture of his face: — The colder, keener is the air, The less he cares a feather. But, there! he's gone! and I gaze on The wintriest of weather! Ah, boy! still speeding o'er the track Where none returns again, To sigh for you, or cry for you. Or die for you were vain. — And so, speed on ! the while I pray All nipping frosts forsake you — Ride still ahead of grief, but may- All glad things overtake you ! F[er Tired F[ai:ids. BOARD a western train the other day, I held in my bosom for over seventy-five miles, the elbow of a large man whose name I do not know. He was not a rail- road hog or I would have resented it. He was built wide and he couldn't help it, so I forgave him. He had a large, gentle, kindly eye, and when he desired to spit, he went to the car door, opened it and decorated the entire outside of the train forgetting that our speed would help to give scope to his remarks. Naturally as he sat there by my side, holding on tightly to his' ticket and evidently afraid that the conductor would forget to come and get it, I began to figure out in my mind what might be his business. He had pounded one thumb so that the nail was black where the blood had settled under it. This might happen to a shoemaker, a carpenter, a blacksmith or most any one else. So it didn't help me out HER TIRED HANDS. tat much, though it looked to me as though it might have been done by trying to drive a fencu-nail through a leather hinge with the back of an axe and nobody but a farmer would try to dd that. Following up the clue, I discovered that he had milked on his boots and then I knew I was right. The man who milks befoie daylight, in a dark barn, when the ther- mometer is down to 28 degrees below and who hits his boot and misses the pail, by reason of the cold and the uncer- tain light and the prudishness of the cow, is a marked man. He cannot conceal the fact that he is a farmer unless he removes that badge. So I started out on that theory and remarked that this would pass for a pretty hard winter on stock. taS NYE AND RILEY'S RAILWAY GUIDE. The thought was not original with me, for I have heard It expressed by others either in this country or Europe. He said it would. "My cattle has gone through a whole mowful o' hay sence October and eleven ton o' brand. Hay don't seem to have the goodness to it that it hed last year, and with their new/r(7-cess griss mills they jerk all the juice out o' *«kAj»u\ io's you might as well feed cows with excelsior and upholsl. Tyour horses with hemlock bark as to buy brand." "Wei, why dg you run so much to stock? Why don't you try d versified farming, and rotation of crops.'" "Well, probably yoii got that idee in the papers. A man that earns big wages writing Farm Hints for agricultural papers can jnake more money with a soft lead pencil and two or three season-cracked ideas like that'n I can carrying HER TIRED HANDS. 129 uf 'em out on the farm. We used to have a feller in the drugstore in our town that wrote such good pieces for the Rural Vermonter and made up such a good condition pow- der out of his own head, that two years ago we asked him to write a nessay for the annual meeting of the Buckwheat Trust, and to use his own judgment about choice of sub- ject. And what do you s'pose he had selected for a nessay that took the whole forenoon to read?" "What subject, you mean?" ' "Yes." "Give it up!" "Well, he'd wrote out that whole blamed intellectual wad on the subject of 'The Inhumanity of Dehorning Hy- draulic Rams. ' How's that?" "That's pretty fair." "Well, farmin'is like runnin' a paper in regards to some things. Every feller in the world will take and turn in and tell you how to do it, even if he don't know a blame thing about it. There ain't a man in the United States to-day that don't secretly think he could run airy one if his other business busted on him, whether he knows the difference between a new milch cow and a horse hayrake or not. We had one of these embroidered night-shirt farmers come from town better 'n three years ago. Been a toilet soap man and done .well, and so he came out and bought a farm that had nothing to it but a fancy house and barn, a lot of medder in the front yard and a southern aspect. The farm was no good. You couldn't raise a disturbance on it. Well, what does he do? Goes and gits a passle of slim-tailed, yeller cows from New Jersey and aims to handle cream and diver- sified farming. Last year the cuss sent a load of cream over and tried to sell it at the new crematory while the funeral and hoUercost was goin* on. I may be a sort of a chump myself, but I read my paper and don't get left like that." "What are the prospects for farmers in your State?" i30 NYE AND RILEVS RAILWAY GUIDE. "Well, they are pore. Never was so pore, in fact, sence I've ben there. Folks wonder why boys leaves the farm. My boys left so as to get protected, they said, and so they went into a clothing-store, one of 'em, and one went into hardware and one is talking protection in the Legislature this winter. They said that farmin' was gittin' to be like fishin' and huntin', well enough for a man that has means and leisure, but they couldn't make a livin' at it, they said. Another boy is in a drug store, and the man that hires him says he is a royal feller." "Kind of a castor royal feller," I said, with a shriek of laughter. He waited until I had laughed all I wanted to and then he said: "I've always hollered for high terriff in order to hyst the public debt, but now that we've got the national debt coop- ered I wish they'd take a little hack at mine. I've put in HER TIRED HANDS. 131 fifty years farmin'. I never drank licker in any form. I've worked from ten to eighteen hours a day, been economical in cloze and never went to a show more'n a dozen times in my life, raised a family and learned upward of two hundred calves to drink out of a tin pail without blowing all theit vittles up my sleeve. My wife worked alongside o' me sewin' new seats on the boys' pants, skimmin'milk and even helpin' me load hay. For forty years we toiled along to- gether and hardly got time to look into each others' faces or dared to stop and get acquainted with each other. Then her health failed. Ke.tched cold in the spring house, prob'ly skimmin' milk and washin' pans and scaldin' pails and spankin' butter. Anyhow, she took in a long breath one day while the doctor and me was watchin' her, and she says to me, 'Henry,' says she, 'I've got a chance to rest,' and she put one tired, wore-out hand on top of the other tired, wore- out hand, and I knew she'd gone where they don't work all day and do chores all night. " I took time to kiss her then. I'd been too busy for a good while previous to that, and then I called in the boys. After the funeral it was too much for them to stay around and eat the kind of cookin' we had to put up with, and nobody spoke up around the l^ouse as we used to. The boys quit whistlin' around the barn and talked kind of low by themselves about goin' to town and gettin' a job. " They're all gone now and the snow is four feet deep on mother's grave up there in the old berryin' ground." Then both of us looked out of the car window quite a long while without saying anything. " I don't blame the boys for going into something else long's other things pays better; but I say — and I say what I know — that the man who holds the prosperity of this country in his hands, the man that actually makes money for other people to spend, the man that eats three good, simple, square meals a day and goes to bed at nine 132 NYE AND RILEVS RAILWAY GUIDE. o'clock, so that future generations with good blood and cool brains can go from his farm to the Senate and Congress and the White House — he is the man that gets left at last to run his farm, with nobody to help him but a hired man and a high protective terriff. The farms in our State is mortgaged for over seven hundred million dollars. Ten of our Western States — I see by the papers — has got about three billion and a half mortgages on their farms, and that don't count the chattel mortgages filed with the town clerks on farm machinery, stock, waggins, and even crops, by gosh ! that ain't two inches high under the snow. That's what the prospects is for farmers now. The Government is rich, but the men that made it, the men that fought perarie fires and perarie wolves and Injins and potato-bugs and blizzards, and has paid the war debt and pensions and everything else and hollered for the Union and the Repub- lican party and free schools and high terriff and anything else that they was told to, is left high and dry this cold winter with a mortgage of seven billions and a half on the farms they have earned and saved a thousand times over." " Yes ; but look at the glory of sending from the farm the future President, the future Senator and the future member of Congress." "That looks well on paper, but what does it really amount to ? Soon as a farmer boy gits in a place like that he forgets the soil that produced him and holds his head as high as a holly-hock. He bellers for protection to everybody but the farmer, and while he sails round in a highty-tighty room with a fire in it night and day, his father on the farm has to kindle his own fire in the morning with elm slivvers, and he has to wear his son's lawn-tennis suit next to him or freeze, to death, and he has to milk in an old gray shawl that has held that member of Congress when he was a baby, by gorry ! and the old lady has to ffER TIRED HANDS. 133 sojourn through the winter in the flannels that Silas wore at the riggatter before he went to Congress. " So I say, and I think that Congress agrees with me, Damn a farmer, anyhow ! " He then went away. B^ra Ffoase^ Come listen, good people, while a story I do tell, Of the sad fate of one which I knew so passing well ; He enlisted at McCordsville, to battle in the south. And protect his country's union ; his name was Ezra House, He was a young school-teacher, and educated high In regards to Ray's arithmetic, and also Algebra. He give good satisfaction, but at his country's call He dropped his position, his Algebra and all. " Its Oh, I'm going to leave you, kind scholars," he said — For he wrote a composition the last day and read ; And it brought many tears in the eyes of the school. To say nothing of his sweet-heart he was going to leave so soon. " I have many recollections to take with me away, Of the merry transpirations in the school-room so gay ; And of all that's past and gone I will never regret I went to serve my country at the first of the outset!" He was a good penman, and the lines that he wrote On that sad occasion was too fine for me to qunte, — For I was there and heard it, and I ever will recall It brought the happy tears to the eyes of us all. And when he left, his sweetheart she fainted away. And said she could never forget the sad day When her lover so noble, and gallant and gay, Said " Fare you well, my true love !" and went marching away. EZRA HOUSE. 135 He hadn't been gone for more than two months When the sad news come — " he was in a skirmish once, And a cruel rebel ball had wounded him full sore In the region of the chin, through the canteen he wore." But his health recruited up, and his wounds they got well ; But while he was in battle at Bull Run or Malvern Hill, The news come again, so sorrowful to hear — " A sliver from a bombshell cut off his right ear," 136 NYE AND RILEVS RAILWAY GUIDE. But he stuck to the boys, and it's often he would write, That " he wasn't afraid for his country to fight." But oh, had he returned on a furlough, I believe He would not, today, have such cause to grieve. For in another battle — the name I never heard — He was guarding the wagons when an accident occurred,^ A comrade, who was under the influence of drink, Shot him with a musket through the right cheek, I think. But his dear life was spared, but it hadn't been for long 'Till a cruel rebel colonel came riding along, And struck him with his sword, as many do suppose. For his cap-rim was cut off, and also his nose. But Providence, who watches o'er the noble and the brave. Snatched him once more from the jaws of the grave ; And just a little while before the close of the war, He sent his picture home to his girl away so far. And she fell into decline, and she wrote in reply, " She had seen his face again and was ready to die ;" And she wanted him to promise, when she was in her tomb. He would only visit that by the light of the moon. But he never returned at the close of the war. And the boys that got back said he hadn't the heart: But he got a position in a powder-mill, and said He hoped to meet the doom that his country denied. "Oil, Will]6lii]itia3 Con\Q Back I 55 PERSONAL — Will the young woman who edited the gravy department and corrected proof at our pie foundry for two days and then jumped the game on the evening that we were to have our clergyman to dine with us, please come back, or write to 32 Park Row, saying where she left the crackers and cheese 7 Come back, Wilhelmina, and be our little sunbeam once more. Come back and cluster around our hearthstone at so much per cluster. If you think best we will quit having company at the house, especially people who do not belong to your set. We will also strive, oh so hard, to make it pleasanter for you in every way. If we had known four or five years ago that children were offensive to you, it would have been different. But it is too late now. All we can do is to shut o8 NYE AND JilLEVS RAILWAY GUIDE. them up in a barn and feed them through a knot-hole. If they shriek loud enough to give pain to your throbbing brow, let no one know and we will overcome any false sen- timent we may feel towards them and send them to the Tombs. Since you went away we can see how wicked and selfish we were and how little we considered your comfort. We miss your glad smile, also your Tennessee marble cake and your slat pie. We have learned a valuable lesson since you went away, and it is that the blame should not have rested on one alone. It should have been divided equally, leaving me to bear half of it and my wife the other half. Where we erred was in dividing up the blame on the basis of tenderloin steak or peach cobbler, compelling you to bear half of it yourself. That will not work, Wilhelmina. Blame and preserves do not divide on the same basis. We are now in favor of what may be called a sliding scale. We think you vvill like this better. We also made a grave mistake in the matter of nights out. While young, I formed the wicked and pernicious habit of having nights out myself I panted for the night air and would go a long distance and stay out a long time to get enough of it for a mess and then bring it home in a paper bag, but I can see now that it is time for me to remain indoors and give young people like yourself a chance, Wilhelmina. So, if I can do anything evenings while you are out that will assist you, such as stoning raisins or neighboring win- dows command me. I am no cook, of course, but I can peel apples or grind coffee or hold your head for you when you need sympathy. I could also soon learn to do the plain cooking, I think, and friends who come to see us after this have agreed to bring their dinners. There is no reason why harmony should not be restored among us arid the old sunlight come back to our roof tree. OH, WILHELMINA COME BACK I 139 Another thing I wish to write before I close this humil- iating personal. I wish to take back my harsh and bitter words about your singing. I said that you sang like a shingle-mill, but I was mad when I said it, and I wronged you. I was maddened by hunger and you told me that mush and milk was the proper thing for a brain worker, and you refused to give me any dope on my dumpling. Goaded to madness by this I said that you sang like a shingle-mill, but it was not my better, higher nature that spoke. It was my grosser and more gastric nature thai asserted itself, and I now desire to take it back. You do not sing like a shingle-mill; at least so much as to mislead a practiced ear. Your voice has more volume, and when your upper register is closed, is mellower than any shingle-mill I ever heard. Come back, Wilhemina. We need you every hour. After you went away we tried to set the bread as we had seen you do it, but it was not a success. The next day it came off the nest with a litter of small, sallow rolls which would easily resist the action of acids. If you cannot come back will you please write and tell me how you are getting along and how you contrive, to insert air-holes into home-made bread ? 'Twas but a hint of Spring — for still The atmosphere was sharp and chill — Save where the genial sun- shine smote The shoulders of my over- coat, And o'er the snow beneath my feet Laid spectral fences down the street. My shadow even seemed to be Elate with some new buoy- ancy, And bowed and bobbed in my advance With trippingest extravagance. And when a bird sang out somewhere, It seemed to wheel with me, and stare. A HINT OF SPRING. 141 Above I heard a rasping stir — And on the roof the carpenter Was perched, and prodding rusty leaves From out the choked and dripping eaves — And some one, hammering about, Was taking all the windows out. Old scraps of shingles fell before The noisy mansion's open door ; And wrangling children raked the yard. And labored much, and laughed as hard, And fired the burning trash I smelt And sniffed again — so good I f^lt ! "Scurious-like," said the tree- toad, " I've twittered fer rain all day ; And I got up soon, And hollered till noon — But the sun hit blazed away, Till I jest dumb down in a crawfish-hole, Weary at heart, and sick at soul! " Dozed away fer an hour. And I tackled the thing agin ; And I sung, and sung. Till I knowed my lung Was jest about give in ; And then, thinks I, ef it don't rain now, There 're nothin' in singin' anyhow ! " Once in a while some farmer Would come a driven' past ; And he'd hear my cry, And stop and sigh — Till I jest laid back, at last, And I hollered rain till I thought my throat Would bust wide open at ever' note! ji TREAT ODE. 143 " But I fetched her !— O I fetched her !— 'Cause a Uttle while ago, As I kindo' set With one eye shet, And a-singin' soft and low, A voice drapped down on my fevered brain Sayin',— ' Ef you'll jest hush I'll rain ! '" "Oar Wife." HE story opens in 1877, when, on an April morning, the yel- low- haired "devil" arrived at the office of the Jack Creek Fizen- weed, at 7 o'clock, and found the editor in. It was so unusual to tind the editor in at that hour that the boy whistled in a low con- tralto voice, and passed on into the " news room," leaving the gentlemanly, gen- ial and urbane editor of the Pizenweed as he had found him, sitting in his foundered chair, with his head immersed in a pile of exchanges on the table and his venerable Smith & Wesson near by, acting as a paper-weight. The gentle- manly, genial and urbane editor of the Pizenweed presented the appearence of a man engaged in sleeping off a long and aggravated case of drunk. His hat was on the back of his head, and his features were entirely obscured by the loose papers in which they nestled. Later on, Elijah P. Beckwith, the foreman, came in, and found the following copy on the hook, marked " Leaded OUR WIFE. 145 Editorial," and divided it up into "takes " for the yellow- haired devil and himself: *' In another column of this issue will be found, among the legal notices, the first publication of a summons in an action for divorce, in which our wife is plaintiff and we are made defendant. While generally deprecating the practice of bringing private matters into pubUc through the medium of the press, we feel justified in this instance, inasmuch as the summons sets forth, as a cause of action, that we are, and have been, for the space of ten years, a confirmed drunkard without hope of recovery, and totally unwilling to provide for and maintain our said wife. " That we have been given to drink, we do not, at this time, undertake to deny or in any way controvert, but that we can not quit at any time, we do most earnestly contend. " In 1867, on the 4th day of July, we married our wife. It was a joyful day, and earth had never looked to us so fair or so desirable as a summer resort as it did that day. The flowers bloomed, the air was fresh and exhilarating, the little birds and the hens poured forth their respective lays. It was a day long to be remembered, and it seemed as though we had never seen Nature get up and hump herself to be so attractive as she did on this special morning — the morning of all mornings — the morning on which we married our wife. " Little did we then dream that after ten years of vary- ing fortune we would to-day give utterance to this editorial, or that the steam power-press of the Fizenweed would squat this legal notice for divorce, a vinculo et thoro, into the virgin page of our paper. But such is the case. Our wife has abandoned us to our fate, and has seen fit to publish the notice in what we believe to be the spiciest paper published west of the Missouri river. It was not necessary that the notice should be published. We were ready at any time to »dmit service, provided that plaintiff would serve it while 146 NYE AND RILEVS RAILWAY GUIDE. we were sober. We can not agree to remain sober after ten o'clock a. m. in order to give people a chance to serve notices on us. But in this case plaintiff knew the value of adver- tising, and she selected a paper that goes to the better classes aU over the Union. When our wife does anything she does it right. "For ten years our wife and we have trudged along to- gether. It has been a record of errors and failures on our part; a record of heroic devotion and forbearance on the part of our wife. It is over now, and with nothing to re- member that is not soaked full of bitterness and wrapped up in red flannel remorse, we go forth to-day and herald our shame by publishing to the world the fact, that as husband, we are a depressing failure, while as a red-eyed and a rum-soaked ruin and all-round drunkard, we are a tropical triumph. We print this without egotism, and we point to it absolutely without vain glory. "Ah, why were we made the custodian of this fatal gift, whileot'iers were denied.' It was about the only talent we had, but we have not wrapped it up in a napkin. Some- times we have put a cold, wet towel on it, but we have never hidden it under a bushel. We have put it out at three per cent a month, and it has grown to be a thirst that is worth coming all the way from Omaha to see. We do not gloat over it. We do not say all this to the disparage- ment of other bright, young drinkers, who came here at the same time, and who had equal advantages with us. We do not wish to speak lightly of those whose prospects for fill- ing a drunkard's grave were at one time even brighter than ours. We have simply sought to hold our position here in the grandest galaxy of extemporaneous inebriates in the' wild and woolly West. We do not wish to vaunt our own prowess, but we say, without fear of successful contradic' tion, that we have done what we could. "On the fourth page of this number will be found, OUR WIFE. 147 among other announcements, the advertisement of our wife who is about to open up the old laundry at the corner of Third and Cottonwood streets, in the Briggs building. We hope that our citizens will accord her a generous patronage, not so much on her husband's account, but because she is a deserving woman, and a good laundress. We wish that we could as safely recommend every advertiser who patron- izes these columns as we can our wife. "Unkind critics will make cold and unfeeling remarks because our wife has decided to take in washing, and they will look down on her, no doubt, but she will not mind it, for it will be a pleasing relaxation to wash, after the ten years of torch-light procession and Mardi Gras frolic she has had with us. It is tiresome, of course, to chase a pil- low case up and down the wash-board all day, but it is easier and pleasanter than it is to run a one-horse Inebriate Home for ten years on credit. "Those who have read the Pizenweed for the past three years will remember that it has not been regarded as an outspoken temperance organ. We have never claimed that for it. We have simply claimed that, so far as we are per- sonally concerned, we could take liquor or we could let it alone. That has always been our theory. We still make that claim. Others have said the same thing, but were un- able to do as they advertised. We have been taking it right along, between meals for ten years. We now propose, and so state in the prospectus, that we will let it alone. We leave the public to judge whether or not we can do what we claim." After the foreman had set up the above editorial, he went in to speak to the editor, but he was still slumbering. He shook him mildly, but he did not wake. Thea Elijah took him by the collar and lifted him up so that he could see the editor's face. It was a pale, still face, firm ih its new resolution to for- 148 NYE AND RILEVS RAILWAY GUIDE. ever "let it alone." On the temple and under the heavy sweep of brown hair there was a powder-burned spot and the cruel afifidavit of the "Smith and Wesson'' that our wife had obtained her decree. The editor of the Pizenweed had demonstrated that he could drink or he could let it alone. N\y Bacl^elor Qlt^iirt^, O a. corpulent man is my bachelor chum, With a neck apoplectic and thick, And an abdomen on him as big as a drum, And a fist big enough for the stick; With a walk that for grace is clear out of the case. And a wobble uncertain — as though His little bow-legs had for- gotten the pace That in youth used to favor him so. He is forty, at least; and the^ top of his head Is a bald and a glittering thing; And his nose and his two chubby cheeks are as red As three rival roses in spring. His mouth is a grin with the corners tucked in. And his laugh is so breezy and bright That it ripples his features and dimples his chin With a billowy look of delight. ISO NYE AND RILEVS- RAILWAY GUWB. He is fond of declaring he "don't care a straw" — That "the ills of a bachelor's life Are blisses compared with a mother-in-law, And a boarding-school miss for a wife!" So he smokes, and he drinks, and he jokes and he winks, And he dines, and he wines all alone. With a thumb ever ready to snap as he thinks Of the comforts he never has known. But up in his den — (Ah my bachelor chum!) I have sat with him there in the gloom. When the laugh of his lips died away to become But a phantom of mirth in the room! And to look on him there you would love him, for all His ridiculous ways, and be dumb As the little girl-face that smiles down from the wall On the tears of my bachelor chum. Tl:ie Pl:iilaiit]:|rot)iGal Jay, It had been ten long weary years since I last met Jay Gould until I called upon him yesterday to renew the acquaintance and discuss the happy past. Ten years of patient toil and earnest endeavor on my part, ten years of philanthropy on his, have been filed away in the grim and greedy heretofore. Both of us have changed in that time, though Jay has changed more than I have. Perhaps that is because he has been thrown more in contact with change than I have. Still, I had changed a good deal in those years, for when I called at Irvingtcn yesterday Mr. Gould did not remember me. Neither did the watchful but overestimated dog in the front yard. Mr. Gould lives in comfort, in a cheery home, surrounded by hired help and a barbed-wire fence. By wearing ready-made clothes, instead of having his clothing made especially for himself, he has been enabled to amass a good many millions of dollars with which he is enabled to buy things. Carefully concealing the fact that I had any business relations with the press, I gave my card to the person who does chores for Mr. Gould, and, apologizing for not having dropped in before, I took a seat in the spare room to wait for the great railroad magnate. Mr. Gould entered the room with a low, stealthy tread, and looked me over in a cursory way and yet with the air of a connoisseur. "I believe that I have never had the pleasure of meeting you before, sir," said the great railroad swallower and ama- teur Philanthropist with a tinge of railroad irony. 152 NYE AND RILEVS RAILWAY GUIDE. "Yes, sir, we met some ten years ago," said I, lightly running my fingers over the keys of the piano in- order to show him that I was accustomed to the sight of a piano. " I was then working in the rolling mill at Laramie City, Wyo., and you came to visit the mill, which was then operated by the Union Pacific Railroad Company. You do not remem- ber me because I have purchased a different pair of trousers since I saw you, and the cane which I wear this season changes my whole appearance also. I remember you, how- ever, very much." "Well, if we grant all that, Mr. Nye, will you excuse me for asking you to what I am indebted for this call.'" "Well, Mr. Gould," said I, rising to my full height and putting my soft hat on the brow of the Venus de Milo, after which I seated myself opposite him in a //if^a^if Western way, "you are indebted to me for this call. That's what you're indebted to. But we will let that pass. We are not here to talk about indebtedness, Jay. If you are busy you THE PHILANTHROPIC AL JAY. 153 needn't return this call till next winter. But I am here just to converse in a quiet way, as between man and man; to talk over the past, to ask you how your conduct is and to inquire if I can do you any good in any way whatever. This is no time to speak pieces and ask in a grammatical way, 'To what you are indebted for this call.' My main object in coming up here was to take you by the hand and ask you how your memory is this spring? Judging from what I could hear, I was led to believe that it was a little inclined /54 ^y^ ^NI> RILEVS RAILWAY GUIDE. to be sluggish and atrophied days and to keep you awake nights. Is that so, Jay?" "No, sir; that is not so." " Very well, then I have been misled by the reports in the papers, and- I am glad it is all a mistake. Now, one thing more before I go. Did it ever occur to you that while you and your family are all out in your yacht together some day, a sudden squall, a quick lurch of the lee scuppers, a tremulous movement of the main brace, a shudder of the spring boom might occur and all be over ? " " Yes, sir. I have often thought of it, and of course such a thing might happen at any time ; but you forget that while we are out on the broad and boundless ocean we enjoy ourselves. We are free. People with morbid curi- osity cannot come and call on us. We cannot get the daily newspapers, and we do not have to meet low, vulgar people who pay their debts and perspire." " Of course, that is one view to take of it ; but that is only a selfish view. Supposing that you have made no pro- vision for the future in case of accident, would it not be well for you to name some one outside of your own family to take up this great burden which is now weighing you down — this money which you say yourself has made a slave of you — and look out for it ? Have you ever consid- ered this matter seriously and settled upon a good man who would be willing to water your stock for you, and so conduct your affairs that nobody would get any benefit from your vast accumulations, and in every way carry out the policy which you have inaugurated ? " If you have not thoroughly considered this matter I wish that you. would do so at an early date. I have in mv mind's eye just such a man as you need. His shoulders are well fitted for a burden of this kind, and he would pick it up cheerfully at any time you see fit to lay it down. I will give you his address/' THE PHILANTHROPICAL JAY. I55 "Thank you," said Mr. Gould, as the thermometer in the [next room suddenly froze up and burst with a loud report. " And now, if you will excuse me from offsetting my time, which is worth $500 a minute, against yours, which I judge to be worth about $1 per week, I will bid you good morning." He then held the door open for me, and shortly after that I came away. There were three reasons why I did not remain, t)ut the principal reason was that I did not think he wanted me to do so. And so I came away and left him. There was little else that I could say after that. It is not the first time that a Western man has been treated with consideration in his own section, only to be frowned upon and frozen when he meets the same man in New York. Mr. Gould is below the medium height, and is likely to remain so through life. His countenance wears a crafty expression, and yet he allowed himself to be April-fooled by a genial little party of gentlemen from Boston, who salted the Central Branch of the Union Pacific Railroad by holding back all the freight for two weeks in order to have it on the road while Jay was examining the property. Jay Gould would attract very little attention here on the streets, but he would certainly be looked upon with sus- picion in Paradise. A man who would fail to remember that he had $7,000,000 that belonged to the Erie road, but who does not forget to remember whenever he paid his own hotel bills at Washington, is the kind of man who would pull up and pawn the pavements of Paradise within thirty days after he got there. After looking over the above statement carefully, I feel called upon, in justice to myself, to state that Dr. Bur- chard did not assist me in constructing the last sentence. 156 NYE AND RILEY'S RAILWAY GUIDE. For those boys who wish to emulate the example of Jay Gould, the example of Jay Gould is a good example for them to emulate. If any little boy in New York on this beautiful Sabbath morning desires to jeopardize his immortal soul in order to be beyond the reach of want, and ride gayly over the sunlit billows where the cruel fangs of the Excise law can- not reach him, let him cultivate a lop-sided memory, swap friends for funds and wise counsel for crooked consols. If I had thought of all this as I came down the front steps at Irvington the other day, I would have said it to Mr. Gould; but I did not think of it until I got home. A man's best thoughts frecjuently come to him too late for publication. THE PHILANTHROPICAL JAY. i57 But the name of Jay Gould will not go down to future generations linked with those of Howard and Wilberforce. It will not go very far any way. In this age of millionaires, a milHonaire more or less does not count very much, and only the good millionaires who baptize and beautify their wealth in thfe eternal sunlight of unselfishness will have any claim on immortality. In this period of progress and high-grade civilization, when Satan takes humanity up to the top of a high mountain and shows his railroads and his kerosene oil and his distil- leries and his coffers filled with pure leaf lard, and says : " All this will I give for a seat in the Senate," a common millionaire with no originality of design does not excite any more curiosity on Broadway than a young man who is led about by a little ecru dog. I do not wish to crush capital with labor, or to further intensify the feeling which already exists between the two, for 1 am a land-holder and taxpayer myself, but I say that the man who never mixes up with the common people unless he is summoned to explain something and shake the moths out of his memory will some day, when the grass grows green over his own grave, find himself confronted by the same kind of a memory on the part of mankind. I do not say all this because I was treated in an off-hand manner by Mr. Gould, but because I think it ought to be said. As I said before. Jay Gould is considerably below the medium height and I am not going to take it back. He is a man who will some day sit out on- the corner of a new-laid planet with his little pink railroad maps' on his knees, and ask "Where am I ?" and the echoes from every musty corner of miasmatic oblivion will take up the question and refer it to the judiciary committee ; but it will curl up and die like the minority report against a big railroad land grant. When the rooster's crow is sad to hear, And the stamp of the stabled horse is vain, And the tone of the cow-bell grieves the ear — O then is the time for a brave refrain ! When the gears hang stiff on the harness-peg, And the tallow gleams in frozen streaks; A BRAVE REFRAW. 159 And the old hen stands on a lonesome leg, And the pump sounds hoarse and the handle squeaks ; When the woodpile lies in a shrouded heap, And the frost is scratched from the window-pane. And anxious eyes from the inside peep — O then is the time for a brave refrain! When the ax-helve warms at the chimney-jamb! And hob-nailed boots on the hearth below, And the house cat curls in a slumber calm. And the eight-day clock ticks loud and slow; When the harsh broom-handle jabs the ceil 'Neath the kitchen-loft, and the drowsy brain Sniffs the breath of the morning meal — O then is the time for a brave refrain! 'Envoi. When the skillet seethes, and a blubbering hot * Tilts the lid of the coffee-pot, And the scent of the buckwheat cake grows plain — O then is the time for a brave refrain! A Blasted Sr\ovQ. Sleep, under favorable circumstances, is a great boon. Sleep, if natural and undisturbed, is surely as useful as any other scientific discovery. Sleep, whether administered at home or abroad, under the soporific influences of an under- paid preacher or the unyielding wooden cellar door that is used as a blanket in the sleeping car, is a harmless dissi- pation and a cheerful relaxation. Let me study a man for the first hour after he has wakened and I will judge him more correctly than I would to watch him all winter in the Legislature. We think we are pretty well acquainted with our friends, but we are not thoroughly conversant with their peculiarities until we have seen them wake up in the morning. I have often looked at the men I meet and thought what a shock it must be to the wives of some of them tp wake up and see their husbands before they have had time to pre- pare, and while their minds are still chaotic. The first glimpse of a large, fat man, whose brain has drooped down behind his ears, and whose wheezy breath wanders around through the catacombs of his head and then emerges from his nostrils with a shrill snort like the yelp of the damned, must be a charming picture for the eye of a delicate and beautiful second wife; one who loves to look on green meadows and glorious landscapes; one who has always wakened with a song and a ripple of laughter that fell on her father's heart like a shower of sunshine in the sombre green of the valley. It is a pet theory of mine that to be pleasantly wakened is half the battle for the day. If we could be wakened by A BLASTED SNORE. i6l the refrain of a joyous song, instead of having our front teeth knocked out by one of those patent pillow-sham hold- ers that sit up on their hind feet at theheadof the bed, until we dream that we are just about to enter Paradise and have just passed our competitive examination, and which then ■ swoop down and mash us across the bridge of the nose, there would be less insanity in our land and death would be regarded more in the light of a calamity. "When you waken a child do it in a pleasant way. Do not take him by the ear and pull him out of bed. It is dis- agreeable for the child, and injures the general tout ensemble of the ear. Where children go to sleep with tears on their cheeks and are wakened by the yowl of dyspeptic parents, they have a pretty good excuse for crime in after years. If I sat on the bench in such cases I would mitigate the sen- tence. It is a genuine pleasure for me to wake up a good-natured child in a good-natured way. Surely it is better from those dimpled lids to chase the sleep with a caress than to knock out slumber with a harsh word and a bed slat. No one should be suddenly wakened from a sound sleep. A sudden awaking reverses the magnetic currents, and makes the hair pull, to borrow an expression from Dante. The awaking should be natural, gradual, and deliberate. A sad thing occurred last summer on an Omaha train. It was a very warm day, and in the smoking-car a fat man, with a magenta fringe of whiskers over his Adam's apple, and a light, ecru lambrequin of real camel's hair around the suburbs of his head, might have been discovered. He could have opened his mouth wider, perhaps, but not without injuring the mainspring of his neck and turning his epiglottis out of doors. He was asleep. He was not only slumbering, but he was putting the earnestness and passionate devotion of his whole being into ifia NYE AND RILEY'S RAILWAY GUIDE. it. His shiny, oilcloth grip, with the roguish tip of a dis- carded collar just peeping out at the side, was up in the iron wall-pocket of the car. He also had, in the seat with him, a market basket full of misfit lunch and a two-bushel bag containing extra apparel. On the floor he had a crock of butter with a copy of the Punkville Palladium and Stock Grower's Guardian over the top. He slumbered on in a rambling sort of a way, snorisg all the time in monosyllables, except when he erroneously swallowed his tonsils, and then he would struggle awhile and get black in the face, while the passengers vainly hoped that he had strangled. While he was thus slumbering, with all the eloquence and enthusiasm of a man in the full meridian of life, the train stopped with a lurch, and the brakeman touched his shoulder. "Here's your town," he said. "We only stop a minute. You'll have to hustle." The man, who had been far away, wrestling with Mor- pheus, had removed his hat, coat, and boots, and when he awoke his feet absolutely refused to go back into the same quarters. . At first he looked around reproachfully at the people in the car. Then he reached up and got his oilcloth grip from the bracket. The bag was tied together with a string, and as he took it down the string untied. Then we all discov- ered that this man had been on the road for a long time, with no object, apparently, except to evade laundries. All kinds of articles fell out in the aisle. I remember seeing a chest-protector and a linen coat, a slab of seal-brown ginger- bread and a pair of stoga boots, a hairbrush and a bologna sausage, a plug of tobacco and a porous plaster. He gathered up what he could in both arms, made two trips to the door and threw out all he could, tried again to put A BLASTED SNORE. 163 his number eleven feet into his number nine boots, gave it up, and socked himself out of the car as it began to move, while the brakeman bombarded him through the window for two miles with personal property, groceries, dry-goods, boots and shoes, gents' furnishing goods, hardware, notions, bric- a-brac, red herrings, clothing, doughnuts, vinegar bitters, and facetious remarks. Then he picked up the retired snorer's railroad check from the seat, and I heard him say: "Why, dog on it, that wasn't his town after all." Goodnbye Qv Irfowdy^Do, Say good-bye er howdy-do — What's the odds betwixt the two? Comin' — goin' — every day — Best friends first to go away — Grasp of hand^ you druther hold Than their weight in solid gold, Slips their grip while greetin' you. — Say good-bye er howdy-do ? GOOD-BYE ER ffOWDY-DO. 165 Howdy-do, and then, good-bye — Mixes jest like laugh and cry; Deaths and births, and worst and best Tangled their contrariest ; Ev'ry jinglin' weddin'-bell Skeearin' up some funeral knell. — Here's my song, and there's your sigh ■ Howdy-do, and then, good-bye ! Say good-bye er howdy-do — Jest the same to me and you ; 'Taint worth while to make no fuss, 'Cause the job's put up on us ! Some one's runnin' this concern That's got nothin' else to learn — If he's willin', we'll pull through. Say good-bye or howdy-do ! The following constitute the items of great interest occur- ring on the East Side among the colored people of Blue Rain: Montmorency Tousley of Pizen Ivy avenue cut his foot badly last week while chopping wood for a party on Willow street. He has been warned time and again not to chop wood when the sign was not right, but he would not listen to his friends. He not only cut off enough of his foot to weigh three or four pounds, but completely gutted the coffee sack in which his foot was done up at the time. It will be some time before he can radiate around among the boys on Pizen avenue again. Plum Beasley's house caught on fire last Tuesday night. He reckons it was caused by a defective flue, for the fire caught in the north wing. This is one of Plum's bon mots, however. He tries to make light of it, but the wood he has been using all winter was white birch, and when he got a big dose of hickory at the same place last week it was so dark that he didn't notice the difference and before he knew SOCIETY GURGS FROM SANDY MUSH. 167 it he had a bigger fire than he had allowed. In the midst of a pleasant flow of conversation gas collected in the wood and caused an explosion which threw a passel of live coals on the bed. The house was soon a solid mass of flame. Mr. Beasley is still short two children. Mr. Granulation Hicks, of Boston, Mass., who has won deserved distinction in advancing the interests of Sir George Pullman, ot Chicago, is here visiting his parents, who reside on Upper Hominy. We are glad to see Mr. Hicks and hope he may live long to visit Blue Ruin and propitiate up and down our streets. Miss Roseola Cardiraan has just been the recipient .of a beautiful pair of chaste ear-bobs from her brother, who is a night watchman in a jewelry store run by a man named Tiff'any in New York. Roseola claims that Tiffany makes a right smart of her brother, and sets a heap by him. Whooping-cough and horse distemper are again making fearful havoc among the better classes at the foot of Pizen Ivy avenue. We are pained to learn that the free reading room, established over Amalgamation Brown's store, has been closed up by t. a police. Blue Ruin has clamored for a free temperance reading room and brain retort for ten years, and now a ruction between two of our best known citizens, over the relative merits of a natural pair and a doctored flush, has called down the vengeance of the authorities, and shut up what was a credit to the place and a quiet resort, where young men could come night after night and kind of complicate themselves at. There are two or three men in this place that will bully or bust everything they can get into, and they have perforated more outrages on Blue Ruin than we are entitled to put up with. There was a successful doings at the creek last Sabbath, during which baptism was administered to four grown £68 NYE AND RILEY'S RAILWAY GUIDE. people and a dude from Sandy Mush. The pastor thinks it will take first-rate, though it is still too soon to tell. Surrender Adams got a letter last Friday from his son Gladstone, who filed on a homestead near Porcupine, Dak., two years ago. He says they have had another of those unprecedented winters there for which Dakota is so justly celebrated. He thinks this one has been even more so than any of the others. He wishes he was back here at Blue Ruin, where a man can go out doors for half an hour with- out getting ostracized by the elements. He says they brag a good deal on their ozone there, but he allows that it can be overdone. He states that when the ozone'in Dakota is feeling pretty well and humping itself and curling up sheet- iron roofs and blowing trains off the track, a man has to tie a clothes-line to himself, with the other end fastened to the door knob, before it is safe to visit his own hen-house. He says that his nearest neighbor is seventeen miles away, and a man might as well buy his own chickens as to fool his money away on seventeen miles of clothes-line. It is a first-rate letter, and the old man wonders who Gladstone got to write it for him. The valuable ecru dog of our distinguished townsman, Mr. Piedmont Babbit, was seriously impaired last Saturday morning by an east-bound freight. He will not wrinkle up his nose at another freight train. George Wellington, of Hickory, was in town the front end of the week. He has accepted a position in the livery, feed and sale stable at Sandy Mush. Call again, George. Gabriel Brant met with a sad mishap a few days since while crossing the French Broad river, by which he lost his leg. Any one who may find an extra leg below where the accident occurred will confer a favor on Mr. Brant by returning same to No. o6j^ Pneumonia street. It may be SOCIETY GURGS FROM SANDY MUSH. i6(j readily identified by any one, as it is made of an old pick- handle and weighs four pounds. J. Quincy Burns has written a war article for the Cen- tury magazine, regarding a battle where he was at. In this article he aims to describe the sensations of a man who is ignorant of physical fear arid yet yearns to have the matter submitted to arbitration. He gives a thorough expose of his efforts in trying to find a suitable board of arbitration as soon as he saw that the enemy felt hostile and eager for the fray. The forthcoming number of the Century will be eagerly snapped up by Mr. Burns' friends who are familiar with his pleasing and graphic style of writing. He describes with wonderful power the sense of utter exhaustion which came over him and the feeling of bitter disappointment when he realized that he was too far away to participate in the battle and too fatigued to make a further search for suitable arbitrators. HE SMOKES — AND THAt's ENOUGH,'' SAYS MA Wl^ile Ciiarettes to As^SS Tiiri> I. " He smokes — and that's enough," sayr M*-"- " And cigarettes, at that ! " says Pa. " He must not call again " says she — " He jAa// not call again ! " says he. They both glare at me as before — Then quit the room and bang the door, — While I, their willful daughter, say. " I guess I'll love him, anyway ! " H. At twilight, in his room, alone, His careless feet inertly thrown. Across a chair, my fancy can But worship this most worthless man! I dream what joy it is to set His slow lips round a cigarette, With idle-humored whiff and puff — Ah ! this is innocent enough ! To mark the slender fingers raise The waxen match's dainty blaze, Whose chastened light an instant glows On drooping lids and arching nose. Then, in the sudden gloom, instead, A tiny ember, dim and red, 572 NYE AND RILEVS RAILWAY GUIDE. Blooms languidly to ripeness, then Fades slowly, and grows ripe again. III. I lean back, in my own boudoir — The door is fast, the sash ajar; And in the dark, I smiling stare At one wide window over there, Where some one, smoking, pinks the gloom, The darling darkness of his room ! I push my shutters wider yet. And lo ! I light a cigarette ; And gleam for gleam, and glow for glow. Each pulse of light a word we know, We talk of love that still will burn While cigarettes to ashes turn. Says ¥\q. "Whatever the weather maybe,' says he — ///^ " Whatever the weather may be — ■/// Its plaze, if ye will, an' I'll say me ;/y Supposin' to-day was the winterest day, '/// Wud the weather be changing be- iy cause ye cried, / Or the snow be grass were ye cruci- ■//)-, fied? i'/ The best is to make your own sum- // mer," says he, " Whatever the w.eather may be," says he — " Whatever the weather may be! ' " Whatever the weather may be," -/'^-^ says he — ^^^ " Whatever the weather may be, Its the songs ye sing, an' the smiles ye wear That's a-makin' the sunshine everywhere ; An' the world of gloom is a world of glee, Wid the bird in the bush, an' the bud in the tree, Whatever the weather may be," says he — " Whatever the weather may be ! 174 ^'^^ ^^^ RILEY'S SAILWAY GUIDE. " Whatever the weather may be," says he — " Whatever the weather may be, Ye can bring the spring, wid its green an gold, An' the grass in the grove where the snow Hes cold, An' ye'll warm your back, wid a smiling face. As ye sit at your heart like an owld fireplace, Whatever the weather may be," says he' "Whatever the weather may be! " Winers t\]Q E^oads are Et^gaged it] Forl^ir^g, I am writing this at an imitation hotel where the roads fork. I will call it the Fifth Avenue Hotel because the hotel at a railroad junction is generally called the Fifth Avenue, or the Gem City House, or the Palace Hotel. I stopped at an inn some years since called the Palace, and I can truly say that if it had ever been a palace it was very much run down when I visited it. Just as the fond parent of a white-eyed, two-legged freak of nature loves to name his mentally-diluted son Napoleon, and for the same reason that a prominent horse owner in Illinois last year socked my name on a tall, buckskin-colored colt that did not resemble me, intellectually or physically, a colt that did not know enough to go around a barbed-wire fence, but sought to sift himself through it into an untimely grave, so this man has named his sway-backed wigwam the Fifth Avenue Hotel. It is different from the Fifth avenue in many ways. In the first place there is not so much travel and business in its neighborhood. As I said before, this is where two rail- roads fork. In fact that is the leading industry here. The growth of the town is naturally slow, but it is a healthy growth. There is nothing in the nature of dangerous or wild-cat speculation in the advancement of this place, and while there has been no noticeabhe or rapid advance in the 176 NYE AND RILEVS RAILWAY GUIDE. principal business, there has been no falHng off at all and these roads are forking as much today as they did before the war, while the same three men who were present for the first glad moment are still here to witness the operation. Sometimes a train is derailed, as the papers call it, and two or three people have to remain over as we did all night. It is at such a time that the Fifth Avenue Hotel is the scene of great excitement. A large cod-fish, with a broad and sunny smile and his bosom full of rock salt, is tied in the creek to freshen and fit himself for the responsible position of floor manager of the codfish ball. A pale chambermaid, wearing a black jersey with large pores in it through which she is gently percolating, now goes joyously up the stairs to make the little post-office lock-box rooms look ten times worse than they ever did before. She warbles a low refrain as she nimbly knocks loose the venerable dust of centuries and sets it afloat throughout the rooms. All is bustle about the house. Especially the chambermaid. We were put in the guests' chamber here. It has two atrophied beds made up of pains and counterpanes. This last remark conveys to the reader the presence of a light, joyous feeling which is wholly assumed on my part. The door of our room is full of holes where locks have been wrenched off in order to let the coroner in. Last night I could imagine that I was in the act of meeting, per- sonally, the famous people who have tried to sleep here and who moaned through the night and who died while waiting for the dawn. I have no doubt in the world but there is quite a good- sized delegation from this hotel, of guests who hesitated about committing suicide, because they feared to tread the red-hot sidewalks of perdition, but who became desperate at last and resolved to take their chances, and they have never had any cause to regret it. WHERE ROADS ARE ENGAGED IN FORKING. 177 We washed our hands on doorknob soap, wiped them on a slippery ehn court-plaster, that had made quite a rep- utation for itself under the nom-de-plume of "Towel," tried to warm ourselves at a pocket inkstand stove, that gave out heat like a dark lantern and had a deformed elbow at the back of it. The chambermaid is very versatile, and waits on the table while not engaged in agitating the overworked mat- tresses and puny pillows up-stairs. In this way she imparts the odor of fried pork to the pillow-cases and kero- sene to the pie. She has a wild, nervous and apprehensive look in her eye as though she feared that some herculean guest might seize her in his great strong arms and bear her away to a justice of the peace and marry her. She certainly cannot fully realize how thoroughly secure she is from such a calamity. She is just as safe as she was forty years ago, /78 NYE AND RILEVS RAILWAY GUIDE. when she promised her aged mother that she would never elope with any one. Still, she is sociable at times and converses freely with me at tabk, as she leans over my shoulder, pensively brushing the crumbs into my lap with a general utihty towel, which accompanies her in her various rambles through the house, and she asks what we would rather have — " tea or eggs ? " This afternoon we will pay our bill, in accordance with a life-long custom of ours, and go away to permeate the busy haunts of men. It will be sad to tear ourselves away from the Fifth Avenue Hotel at this place ; still, there is no great loss without some small gain, and at our next hotel we may not have to chop our own wood and bring it up stairs when we want to rest. The landlord of a hotel who goes away to a political meeting and leaves his guests to chop their own wood, and then charges them full price for the rent of a boisterous and tempest-tossed bed, will never endear himself to those with whom he is thrown in contact. We leave at 2:30 this afternoon, hoping that the two railroads may continue to fork here just the same as though we had remained. AloFeeters' Podrti], It Was needless to say 'twas a glorious day, And to boast of it all in that spread-eagle way That our forefathers had since the hour of the birta Of this most patriotic repubhc on earth ! But 'twas justice, of course, to admit that the sight Of the old Stars-and-stripes was a thing of delight In the eyes of a fellow, however he tried To look on the day with a dignified pride That meant not to brook any turbulent glee, Or riotous flourish of loud jubilee! So argued McFeeters, all grim and severe, Who the long night before, with a feeling of fear, i8o NYE AND RILEVS RAILWAY GUIDE. Had slumbered but fitfully, hearing the swish Of the sky-rocket over his roof, with a wish That the urchin who fired it were fast to the end Of the stick to forever and ever ascend; Or to hopelesly ask why the boy with the 'jorn And its horrible havoc had ever been born! Or to wish, in his wakefulness, staring aghast, That this Fourth of July were as dead as the last! So, yesterday morning, McFeeters aros&, With a fire in his eyes, and a cold in his nose, And a gutteral voice in appropriate key With a temper as gruff as a temper could be. He growled at the servant he met on the stair^ Because he was whistling a national air. And he growled at the maid on the balcony, who Stood enrapt with the tune of "The Red White and Blue " That a band was discoursing like mad in the street. With drumsticks that banged, and with cymbals that beat. And he growled at his wife, as she buttoned his vest. And applausively pinned a rosette on his breast Of the national colors, and lured from his purse Some change for the boys — for firecrackers — or worse-. And she pointed with pride to a soldier in blue In a frame on the wall, and the colors there, too; And he felt, as he looked on the features, the glow The painter found there twenty long years ago. And a passionate thrill in his breast, as he felt Instinctively round for the sword in his belt. What was it that hung like a mist o'er the room? — The tumult without — and the music — the boom Of the cannon — the blare of the bugle and fife? — No matter!' — McFeeters was kissing his wife, MC. FEETER'S FOURTH. i8i And laughing and crying and waving his hat Like a genuine soldier, and crazy, at that! — But it's needless to say 'twas a glorious day, And to boast of it all in that spread-eagle way That our forefathers have since the hour of birth Of this most patriotic republic on earth! Ir| a Box, I saw them last night in a olay — Old age and young youth side by side — You might know hy the glasses that pointed that way That they were— a groom and a bride ; And you might have known, too, by the face of the groom, IN A BOX. 183 And the tilt of his head, and the grim Little smile of his lip, he was proud to presumo That we men were all envying him. Well, she was superb — an Elaine in ihe fac», A Godiva in figure and mien, With the arm and the wrist of a Parian " Grace," And the high-lifted brow of a queen ; But I thought, in the splendor of wealth and of pride. And in all her young beauty might prize, I should hardly be glad if she sat by my side With that far-away look in her eyes. See^iilg to Set t\}Q Pablic Rigl^t WOUI.D like to make an explanation at this time which concerns me, of course, more than any one else, and yet it ought to be made in the inter- ests of general justice, also. I refer to a recent article published in a W e s te r n paper and handsomely illustrated in which, among others, I find the foregoing picture of my residence : The description which accompanies the cut, among Other things, goes on to state as follows : "The structure is elaborate, massive and beautiful. It consists of three stories, basement and attic, and covers a large area on the ground. It contains an elevator, electric bells, steam-heat- ing arrangements, baths, hot and cold, in every room, elec- tric lights, laundry, fire-escapes, &c. The grounds consist of at least five acres, overlooking the river for several miles up and down, with fine boating and a private fish-pond of two acres in extent, containing every known variety of game fish. The grounds are finely laid out in handsome SEEKIl'lG TO SET THE PUBLIC RIGHT. 185 drives and walks, and when finished the establishment will be one of the most complete and beautiful in the North- west." No one realizes more fully than I the great power of the press for good or evil. Rightly used the newspaper can make or unmake men, and wrongly used it can be even more sinister. I might say, knowing this as I do, I want to be placed right before the people. The above is not a correct illustration or description of my house, for several reasons. In the first place, it is larger and more robust in appearance, and in the second place it has not the same tout ensemble as my residence. My house is less obtrusive and less arrogant in its demeanor than the foregoing and it has no elevator in it. My house is not the kind that seems to crave an eleva- tor. An elevator in my house would lose money. There is no popular clamor for one, and if I were to put one in I would have to abolish the dining-room. It would also inter- fere with the parlor. I have learned recently that the correspondent who came here to write up this matter visited the town while I was in the South, and as he could not find me he was at the mercy of strangers. A young man who lives here and who is just in the heyday of life, gleefully consented to show the correspondent my new residence not yet completed. So they went over and examined the new Oliver Wendell Holmes Hospital, which will be completed in June and whlchis, of course, a handsome structure, but quite different from my house in many particulars. For instance, my residence is of a different school of arch- itecture, being rather on the Scandinavian order, while the foregoing has a tendency toward the Ironic. The hospital belongs to a very recent school, as I may say, while my residence, in its architectural methods and conception, goes back to the time of the mound builders, a time when a Gothic 1 86 NYE AND RILEVS RAILWAY GUIDE. hole in the ground was considered tlie magnum bonum and the scrumptuous thing in art. If the reader will go around behind the above building and notice it carefully on the east side, he will not discover a dried coonskin nailed to the rear breadths of the wood-shed. That alone ought to convince an observing man that the house is not mine. The coon- skin regardant will always be found emblazoned on my arms, together with a blue Goddess of Liberty and my name in green India ink. Above I give a rough sketch of my house. Of course I have idealized it somewhat, but only in order to catch the eye of the keenly observant reader. The front part of the house runs back to the time of Polypus the First, while the L, which does not show in the drawing, runs back as far as the cistern. In closing, let me say that I am not finding fault with any one because the above error has crept into the public prints, for it is really a pardonable error, after all. Neither do I wish to be considered as striving to eliminate my name from the column? of the press, for no one could be morp SEEKING TO SET THE PUBLIC KIGHT. 187 tickled than I am over a friendly notice ot ny arrival in town or a timely reference to my courteous bearing arid youthful appearance, but I want to see the Oliver Wendell Holmes Hospital succeed, and so 1 come out in this way over my own signature and admit that the building does not belong to me and that, so far as I am concerned, the man who files a lien on it will simply fritter away his time. A Dose't of Blaes, I' got no patience with blues at all! And I ust to kindo talk Aginst 'em, and claim, 'tel along last fall, They was none in the fambly stock; But a nephew of mine, from Eelinoy, That visited us last year. He kindo' convinct me different While he was a-stayin' here. A DOSE'T OF BLUES. l8f Frum ever'-which-way that blues is frum, They'd tackle him ever' ways; They'd come to him in the night, and come On Sundys, and rainy days; They'd tackle him in corn-plantiii' time, A.nd in harvest, an airly fall, But adose't of blues in the wintertime He 'lowed was the worst of all! Said all diseases that ever he had — The mumps, er the rheumatiz — Er ever-other-day aigger's bad Purt' nigh as anything is! — Er a cyarbuncle, say, on the back of his neck, Er a fellon on his thumb, — But you keep the blues away frum him. And alio' the rest could come! And he'd moan, "They's nary a leaf below! Ner a spear o' grass in sight! And the whole wood-pile's clean under snow! And the days is dark as night! And you can't go out — ner you can't stay in — Lay down — stand up — ner set!" And a case o' reguller tyfoid blues Would double him jest clean shet! I writ his parents a postal-kyard He could stay 'tel spring-time come; And Aprile first, as I rickollect, Was the day we shipped him home. Most o' his relatives, sence then. Has either give up, er quit, Er jest died off, but I understand He's the same old color yit ! Warit^d, A Fox, Slippery Elmhurst, Staten Island, July i8, 1888 To the Editor: Dear Sir: Could you inform a constant reader of your valuable paper where he would be most likely to obtain a good, durable, wild fox which could be used for hunting purposes on my premises ? I desire a fox that is a good roadster and yet not too bloodthirsty. If I could secure one that would not bite, it would tickle me most to death. You know, perhaps, that I am of English origin. Some of the best and bluest blood of the oldest and most decrepit families in England flows in my veins. There is no better blood extant. We love the exhilarating sports of our an- cesters, and nothing thrills us through and through like the free chase 'cross country behind the fleeing fox. Joyously we gallop over the sward behind the yelping pack, as we clearly scent high, low, jack and the game. My ancestors are haughty English people from Piscata- quis county, Maine. For centuries, our rich, warm, red blood has been mellowed by the elderberry wine and huck- leberry juice of Moosehead lake ; but now and then it will assert itself and mantle in the broad and indestructible cheek of our race. Ever and anon in our family you will notice the slender, triangular chest, the broad and haughty sweep of abdomen, and the high, intellectual expanse of pelvic bone, which denotes the true Englishman ; proud, WANTED A FOX. 191 high-spirited, soaked full of calm disdain, wearing checked pantaloons, and a soft, flabby tourist 's hat that has a bow at both ends, so that a man can not get too drunk to put it on his head wrong. I know that here in democrat- ic America, where every man has to earn his living or marry rich,people will scorn my high-born love oi the fox-chase,and speak in a slight- ing manner of my wild, wild yearn for the rush and scamper of the hunt. By Jove, but it is joy indeed to gallop over the sward and the cover, and the open land, the meet and the cucumber vines of the Plebeian farmer, to run over the wife of the peasant and tramp her low, coarse children into the rich mould, to " sick " the hounds upon the rude rustic as he paris greens his potatoes, to pry open the jaws of the pack and ret.un to the open-eyed peasant the quiver- ing seat of his pam.iloons, returning it to him not because it is lacking in its me;it, but because it is not available. Ah, how the pulse,' thrill as we bound over the lea, out across the wold, anon skimming the outskirts of the moor and going home with \ stellated fracture of the dura mater through which the gaii is gently escaping. Let others rave ov«/ the dreamy waltz and the false joys 1^2 mrE AND RiLBY^S RAILWAY GUIDE. of the skating rink, but give me the maddening yelp of the pack in full cry as it chases the speckled two-year-old of the low born rustic across the open and into the pond. Let others sing of the zephyrs that fan the white sails of their swift-flying yacht, but give me a wild gallop at the tail of my high-priced hounds and six weeks at the hospital with a fractured rib and I am proud and happy. All our family are that way. We do not care for industry for itself alone. We are too proud ever to become slaves to habits of industry. We can labor or we can let it alone. This shows our superiority as a race. We have been that way for hundreds of years. We could work in order to be sociable, but we would not allow it to sap the foundations of our whole being. I write, therefore, to learn, if possible, where I can get a good red or gray fox that will come home nights. I had a fox last season for hunting purposes, but he did not give satisfaction. He was constantly getting into the pound. I do not want an animal of that kind. I want one that I shall always know where I can put my hand upon him when I want to hunt. Nothing can be more annoying than to be compelled to go to the pound and redeem a fox, when a party is mounted and waiting to hunt him. I do not care so much for the gait of a fox, whether he lopes, trots or paces, so that his feet are sound and his wind good. I bought a light-red fox two years ago that had given perfect satisfaction the previous year, but when we got ready to hunt him he went lame in the off hind foot and crawled under a hen house back of my estate, where he remained till the hunt was over. What I want is a young, flealess fox of the dark-red or iron-gray variety, that I can depend upon as a good road- ster ; one that will come and eat out of my hand and yearn to be loved. WANTED A FOX. rg3 I would like also a tall, red horse with a sawed-off tail ; one that can jump a barbed wire fence without mussing it up with fragments of his rider. Any one who may have such a horse or pipless fox will do well to communicate with me in person or by letter, enclosing references. I may be found during the summer months on my estate, spreac lut under a tree, engaged in thought. E. FiTZWILLIAH NVS. Slipperyelmhurst, Staten Island, N. Y. IMITATED. JSay! you feller! You — With that spade and the pick ! — What do you 'pose to do On this side o' the crick ? Goin' to tackle this claim? Well I reckon You'll let up agin purty quick ! No bluff, understand, — But the same has been tried. And the claim never panned — Or the fellers has lied, — For they tell of a dozen that tried it, And quit it most onsatisfied. SUTTER'S CLAIM. fgi The luck's dead agin it ! — The first man I see That stuck a pick in it Proved that thing to me, — For he sprto topk down, ^nd got homesick. And went back whar he'd orto' be^ Then others they worked it Some — more or less, But finally shirked it. In grades of distress,— ' With an eye out — a jaw or skulj busted, Or some sort o' seriousness. The lasi one was plucky — He wasn't afeerd, And bragged he was "lucky," And said that "he'd heard A heep of bluff-t^lk," and swore ^wkjurd He'd work any claim that be Keered ! Don't you strike nary lick With that pick till I'm through;— This-here feller talked slick And as peart-like as you ! And he says : "I'll abide here As long as I please ! " fiut he didn't He died iherer- And I'm his disease f Seel^itlM to be Idgiltified, Chicago, Feb. 20, 1888. INANCIAL circles here have been a good deal interested in the dis- covery of a cipher which was recently adopted by a depositor and which began to at- tract the attention at first of a gentleman employed in the Clear- ing-House. He was telling me about it and showing me the vouch- ers or duplicates of them. It was several months ago that he first noticed on the back of a check passing through the Clearing-House the following cipher, written in a symmetrical, Gothic hand : Dear Sir : Herewith find payment for last month's butter. It was hardly up to the average. Why do you blonde your butter ? Your butter last month tried to assume an effeminate air, which certainly was not consistent'with its great vigor. Is it not possible that this butter is the brother to what we had the month previous, and that it was exchanged for its sister by mistake 7 We have generally liked your butter very much, but we will have to deal elsewhere if you are going to encourage it in wearing a fiiU beard. Yours truly, W. Moneyed men all over Chicago and finapcial crypto- grammers came to read the curious thing and to try and SEEfTING TO SB IDENTIFIED. 197 work out its bearing on trade. Everybody took a look at it and went away defeated. Even the men who were engaged in trying to figure out the identity of the Snell murderer, took a day off and tried their Waterbury thinkers on this problem. In the midst of it all another check passed through the Clearing- House with this cipher, in the same hand : Sir : Your bill for the past month is too much. You forget the eggs returned at the end of second week, for which you were to give me credit. The cook broke one of them by mistake, and then threw up the portfolio of pie-founder in our once joyous home, I will not dock you for loss of cook, but I cannot allow you for the eggs. How you succeed in dodging quarantine with eggs like that is a mystery to yours truly, W. Great excitement followed the discovery of this indorse- ment on a check for $32. 87. Everybody who knew any- thing about ciphering was called in to consider it. A young man from a high school near here, who made a spe- cialty of mathematics and pimples, and who could readily tell how long a shadow a nine-pound ground-hog would cast at 2 o'clock and 37 minutes p.m., on ground-hog day, if sunny, at the town of Fungus, Dak., provided latitude and longitude and an irregular mass of red chalk be given to him, was secured to jerk a few logarithms in the interests of trade. He came and tried it for a few days, covered the interior of the Exposition Building with figures and then went away. The Pinkerton detectives laid aside their literary work on the great train book, entitled " The Jerkwater Bank Robbery and Other Choice Crimes," by the author of " How I Traced a Lame Man Through Michigan and Other Felonies." They grappled with the cipher, and sev- eral of them leaned up against something and thought for a long time, but they could make neither head nor tail to it. Ignatius Donnelly took a powerful dose of kumiss, and under its maddening influence sought to solve the great tgS NYE AND RILEY^S RAtLWAy GVIPE. problem which threatened to engulf the national surplus. All was in vain. Cowed and defeated, the able conserva- tors of coin, who require a man to be identified before he can draw on his overshoes at sight, had to acknowledge if this thing continued it threatened the destruction of the entire national fabric. About this time I was caUing at the First National Bank of Chicago, the greatest bank, if I am not mistaken, in America. I saw the bonds securing its issue of national currency the other day in Washington, and I am quite sure the custodian told me it was the greatest of any bank in the Union. Anyway, it was sufficient, so that I felt like doing my banking business there whenever it became handy to do so. I asked for a certificate of deposit for $2,000, and had the money to pay for it, but I had to be identified. " Why," I said to the receiving teller, " surely you don't require a man to be identified when he deposits money, do you ? " "Yes, that's the idea." " Well, isn't that a new twist on the crippled industries of this country ? " " No ; that's our rule. Hurry up, please, and don't keep men waiting who have money and know how to do busi- ness." " Well, I don't want to obstruct business, of course, but suppose, for instance, I get myself identified by a man I know and a man you know, and a man who can leave his business and come here for the delirious joy of identifying me, and you admit that I am the man I claim to be, corre- sponding as to description, age, sex, etc., with the man I advertise myself to be, how would it be about your ability to identify yourself as the man you claim to be ? I go all over Chicago, visiting all the large pork-packing houses in seaiwh »f a man I know, and who is intimate with literary people like me, and finally we will say I find one who knows me and who knows you, and whom you know, and who can leave his leaf lard long enough to come here and identify me all right. Can you identify yourself in such a way that when I put in my $2,000 you will not loan it upon insufficient security as they did in Cincinnati the other day, as soon as I go out of town ? " " Oh, we don't care especially whether you trade here or not, so that you hurry up and let other people have a chance. Where you make a mistake is in trying to rehearse a piece here instead of going out to Lincoln Park or somewhere in a quiet part of the city. Our rules are that a man who makes a deposit here must be identified. "All right. Do you know Queen Victoria?" "No, sir; I do not." " Well, then, there is no use in disturbing her. Do you know any of the other crowned heads ?" "No, Sir." " Well, then, do you know President Cleveland, or any of the Cabinet, or the Senate or members of the House?" "No." " That's it, you see. I move in one set and you in another. What respectable people do you know?" " I'll have to ask you to stand aside, I guess, and give that string of people a chance. You have no right to take up my time in this way. The rules of the bank are inflex- ible. We must know who you are, even before we accept your deposit." I then drew from my pocket a copy of the Sunday World, which contained a voluptuous picture of myself. Removing my hat and making a court salaam by letting out four additional joints in my lithe and versatile limbs,. I asked if any further identification would be necessary. Hastily closing the door to the vault and jerking the 20O NYE AND RILEY'S RAILWAY GUIDE. combination, he said that would be satisfactory. I was then permitted to deposit in the bank. I do not know why I should always be regarded with • uspicion wherever I go. I do not present the appearance of a man who is steeped in crime, and yet when I put my trivial little two-gallon valise on the seat of a depot waiting- room a big man with a red mustache comes to me and hisses through his clinched teeth: "Take yer baggage off the seat!!" It is so everywhere. I apologize for disturbing a ticket agent long enough to sell me a ticket, and he tries to jump through a little brass wicket and throttle me. Other SEEKING TO BE IDENTIFIED. 201 men come in and say : " Give me a ticket for Bandoline, O., and be dam sudden about it, too," and they get their ticket and go aboard the car and get the best seat, while I am beg- ging for the opportunity to buy a seat at full rates and then ride in the wood box. I believe that common courtesy and decency in America need protection. Go into an hotel or a hotel, whichever suits the eyether and nyether readers of these lines, and the commercial man who travels for a big sausage-casing house in New York has the bridal chamber while the meek and lowly minister of the Gospel gets a wall- pocket room with a cot, a slippery-elm towel, a cake of cast- iron soap, a disconnected bell, a view, of the laundry, a tin roof and $4 a day. But I digress. I was speaking of the bank check cipher. Z02 NYE AND RILEVS RAILWAY GUIDE. At the First National Bank I was shown another of these remarkable indorsements, It read as follows : Dear Sir. This will be your pay for chickens and other fowls received up to the first of the present month. Time is working wondrous chailges iq your chickens. They are not such chickens as we used to get of you before the war. They may b^ thd same chickens, btit oh 1 how changed by the lapsij of time ! How much more indestructible ! How they have learned since then lo deiy the encroaching tooth of remorseless ages, or any other man 1 Why do you not have them tender like your squashes 7 I found a blue poker chip in your butter this week. What shall I crddit' itayself for it ? If you would try to work your butter more and your customers less it would be highly appreciated, especially by, yours truly W. Looking at the signature on the check itself, I found it to be that of Mrs. James Wexford, of this city. Knowing Mr. Wexford, a wealthy and influential publisher here, I asked him to-day if he knew anything about this matter. He said that all he knew about it was that his wife had a separate bank account, and had asked him several months ago what was the use of all the blank space on the back of a check, and why it couldn't be used for correspondence with the remittee. Mr. Wexford said he'd bet $500 that his wife had been using her checks that way, for he said he never knew of a woman who could possibly pay postage on a note, remittance or anything else unless every particle of the surface had been written over in a wild, delirious, three- story hand. Later on I found that he was right about it. His wife had been sassing the grocer and the butter-man on the back of her checks. Thus ended the great bank mystery. I will close this letter with a little incident, the story of which may not be so startling, but it is true. It is a story of child faith. Johnny Quinlan, of Evanston, has the most wonderful confidence in the efficacy of prayer, but he thinks that prayer does not succeed unless it is accompanied with considerable physical strength. He believes that adult prayer is a good thing, but doubts the efficacy of juvenile prayer. SEEKING TO BE IDENTIFIED. 203 He has. wanted a Jersey cow for a good while and tried prayer, but it didn't seem to get to the central office. Last week he went to a neighbor who is a Christian and be- liever in the effi- cacy of prayer, also the owner of a Jersey cow. " Do you be- lieve that prayer will bring me a yaller Jersey cow ?" said Johnny. " Why, yes, of course. Prayer will remove moun- tains. It will do anything." "Well, then, suppose you give me the cow you've got and pray for another one." i