Gopyiiglitl^ Q I if^f CflPHRIGHT DEPOSm Cobblestones TilE ALFRED A. KNOPF PUBLICATION PRIZE WAS OFFERED BY MR. ALFRED A. KNOPF OF THE CLASS OF igi2 COLUM- BIA COLLEGE TO UNDERGRADUATES OF THE COLLEGE WHO SHOWED PROMISE AS WRITERS. THE PRIZE CONSISTS OF THE PUBLICATION EACH YEAR OF THAT BOOK BY AN UNDERGRADUATE WHICH IS JUDGED MOST DESERVING OF THE HONOR. MR. SENTNER's BOOK, WHICH WON THE AWARD FOR 1 92 1, IS THE FIRST TO SUCCEED IN THIS COMPETI- '1 ION. Cobblestones by David Sentner New York Alfred • A • Knopf 1921 COPYRIGHT, 1921, BY ALFRED A. KNOPF, Inc. ..^'•^'k^ V PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMEEICA DEC 22 1921 Inscribed to Mary Southerland Steele CONTENTS The Valley of Lost Steps, 9 The Bricklayer, 11 Aristocracy, 12 Mrs. Potts Ascends, 13 I have a Rendezvous With Life, 14 Tree in a Canyon, 16 The Death of Pan, 17 Life of a City, 18 The Devil Visits Broadway, ig A Lilt, 20 A Rumbling, 21 A Thought, 22 Day of Judgment, 23 Two Voices, 24 The Subway Guard, 25 Blasphemy, 26 Neighbors, 27 Geographically Speaking, 28 Unto The End, 30 Closing of the Grill, 31 Wall Street, 32 The Web of Life, 33 Out of the Line, 34 Khaki and Gold, 35 The Citation, 37 Economics, 38 Taps, 39 Logs, 40 A Blue Law, 41 Among the Ravine, 42 The Revelation, 43 CONTENTS A Mother, 44 Woman, 45 A Rose, 46 The Hobo and the Dream Child, 47 As Seen From the Stars, 49 The Ritual, 50 Three Wishes, 51 The Weather, 52 The Arch-Murderer, 53 A Silly Lad, 54 The Cynic, 55 On the Train, 56 Evolution, 57 Philosophy, 58 A Cynogram, 59 Growing-Pains, 60 Sanctuary, 61 The Man Who Lived in jail, 62 Tracks, 75 The Surf, 76 Efficiency, 77 Balance, 79 Usage, 80 Headings, 81 Gifts, 82 Intelligence, 83 Sky in a City, 84 The Pervert, 85 The Tattler, 86 Tactics, 87 Birdlings, 89 The Smiths, 90 The Valley of Lost Steps I stood nigh the Valley of Steps That Are Lost And listened to echoes that come and go Like breezes thru the fingers of the trees. The tiny step of a toddling child Who knew not the path ahead; The jerky beat of a vigorous youth Who hustled toward quick success; The clump and thump of an army boot Which tramped the long, long one-way road To the parapet in France; The clodding plod of a routine man Who followed the rut of environment; The mincing patter of debutante Down the Aisle of Life With its rosy hedges; The weary, dreary shuffle of woman Who trudged the sands of a household wilderness. But as they neared the Valley of Lost Steps Their cadences were joined In one vast symphony [9] As if it were but one And only one Who trod in dignity deliberate Toward the Valley where bare feet Dance noiselessly on velvet grass. in] The Bricklayer I have been laying bricks Each upon its brother For days and months and years And it is irksome As sifting the ashes of Hell. I remember when I was a child I played with colored blocks Untiringly And found it good. [II] Aristocracy An oyster in an oyster-bed Where every oyster held a pearl Swallowed a diamond. He bragged about his wealth Spouting at his fellows Who could boast only of pearl. But there came a day When he was scooped up Pried apart and robbed Of both his diamond and his pearl, Then scornfully thrown back Into the muddy depth, Maimed and mangled. Yet this proud oyster Became King of the Oysters. For was it not distinction To be pearlless In a colony Of pearl-oysters? [12] Mrs. Potts Ascends Mrs. Potts the Social Climber Dreamed she made ascent to Heaven Broke into the Inner Circle Gave a party to the Angels All the Notables attended. Decked in halo made of moonbeams Wore her wings of solid star-dust Streaked with sky and rosy sunset Even God remarked with fervour, "Mrs. Potts, you look superb." [13] I Have a Rendezvous with Life I have a rendezvous with Life That travels fast as shooting star And stops the tick of clock. I have a rendezvous with Life Within a cluttered city, Where ragged elbows Rub with elbows of fine texture, Where hearts beat high and low With joy and sorrow. Where everybody counts and counts. I have a rendezvous with Life Within a drawing room, Where tinkle teacups and small talk, Where bosoms are half-naked And souls are fully veiled, Where teeth are bared in sweetest smile. Where fox is sheep and sheep is fox. Beneath the glistening crystal lights. [14] I have a rendezvous with Life Within a whirring factory, Where machines run men, Where toys and delicacies Are flavored with sweat and toil. Where brawn is built and brain is numbed. I have a rendezvous with Life Within a lonely farmhouse. Where the breeze is clean And men and grain attain full growth. Where God is on four sides and by the hearth. Where women gossip openly And help each other at harvest time No matter what space of sky There be between each farm. [15] Tree in a Canyon I love to walk Through a certain city canyon Flanked by cliffs of dwellings drab Where grows a tree On the outer sidewalk. I do not know the name of the tree For I am city-bred. [i6] The Death of Pan On excellent authority I've heard of how Pan died. It seems that walking in his sleep His Majesty awoke To find himself Upon a Subway station. He joined the dance Thinking it was some frolicking Of city satyrs. [17] Life of a City Numbers and prices of things — Babies and married couples — Old ladies and sometimes old men — Churches, lodging houses, theatres, Slums and places to eat — The waiting for the man one step ahead To drop dead. Underneath it all A series of glows and hurts And equilibriums That only the person knows But never shows completely. [i8] The Devil Visits Broadway In tattered garb of beggar came the Devil To scorch the blackish mark upon the soul Of mortals in the City of Cold Hearts. And as he walked the ill-famed street, A ragged urchin offered him His only crust of bread. In rage the Devil melted back to Hell. [19] A Lilt I grasped the greasy subway strap And read the lurid advertisements I chewed my gum voraciously Inhaled strange fumes pugnaciously. I heard the grating of the wheels And felt that the chords Of my city soul Were in perfect tune. [20] A Rumbling I thought I heard the World Creaking and groaning on its axis. I looked out from my window And saw a lusty steamroller (Rattling slowly on Its way Towards the destination Which it was sure to reach In due time. [21] A Thought Like a brilliant Thought That rises from its fellows A bright toy-balloon Broke from a cluster. Lifted by a breeze It soared above white dwellings To sink into a dingy alley. A grimy child Aglow at the beauty of its roundness Greedily grasped the balloon And pressed it to his narrow chest. A vagrant pin Pierced the rubber bubble But the child kept the remnant Prizing it for its color. [22] Day of Judgment The next day was to be The Day of Judgment And plans were made For a monstrous brass band. The papers teemed With the controversy being waged As to which churchman would make The welcoming address To the great Jehovah. The people of the slums Were also excited And ate an extra piece Of bread for supper. [23] Two Voices A famous singer lay At the portal of Death. Bulletins issued hourly By a staff of specialists Were read by an anxious world Shocked at the thought Of losing their beloved song-bird- And the price of his Phonograph records rose. At the lower end of the city In a murky room A foreign woman moaned alone Over her little boy that was — "Never no more shall I hear My dear bambino's voice." [24] The Subway Guard Pasty-faced and weary-eyed He sealed the coach With load of human cattle. I shouted him, "What station next?" But twinkling thought inquired me, "What was he the Life Before?" He howled me the station's name But my sub-conscious ear received, "I was an eagle," [25] Blasphemy Overhead the shamefaced stars Softly scan the street below Where the shops in splendour sparkle, Where the signs of theatres dazzle, As along the gleaming highway Head-lights come and tail-lights go. Timidly the Dawn creeps in And the blasphemed Sun mounts high Beating vainly on the windows Of tall buildings where the workers Count the debits and the credits Under lamps with greenish shades. [26] Neighbors For years I have lived In an edifice of stone But never met my neighbor; Yet we may He Side by side Forever. [27] Geographically Speaking NORTH— There are as many baby-carriages Along St. Nicholas Avenue As there are automobiles Upon Fifth Avenue, SOUTH— Ferries, commuters, shrieks from peanut-stands. And the breezes from the Bay — Where one can stand on the Battery wall And see the Statue and bigger things. EAST— At the lower end, Scarcely enough room to live decently; At the upper end, Too much room to live democratically. WEST— Giving birth to the "Upper West Side," Which covers a multitude of rents; Far below is Greenwich Village, [28] The aromatic section of Sixth Avenue ware- houses, And the financial district With its nation-wide tentacles. A New Yorker is like a chameleon Camping upon a piece of plaid. [29] Unto the End Twenty-four hours to live As the end of the world is proclaimed. The millionaire scatters his gold — The lawyer opens the jails — The minister goes to a dance — The atheist starts in to pray — While the Poet keeps on trading — trading- Old dreams for new. [30] Closing the Grill Crystal chandeliers out-gleaming the stars — Soft pink shades casting a mellow light — Xapery, white as snow on a roof — Chinaware, dainty as a baby's birthday ring. Sleek-haired men with females Of silks, satins and cosmetics Patter correctly over the parquet floor Through the mirrored doorway. Waiters' imitation shirt-bosoms are displaced As tables are stripped Exposing the pine wood Topped by burlap. [31] Wall Street A whirling dervish In the center Of a moving merry-go-round About which vast crowds mill While the world Twirls upon its axis. [32] The Web of Life Life in a dug-out is a gray monotony And trifles grow to great importance. One night we spied a spider Centered in his flimsy, fine-spun web. "Oh let the poor dumb devil be," one lad put in. "Let's clean him out and wipe the web," Another doughboy said. "And if we do, he'll only spin again;" At which I deftly dealt a blow With army mitten That sent the bug Into the Big Beyond of Insects. Next dawn a leaden load Wiped out our dirty dug-out Which we were forced to build again. [33] Out of the Line Wild growths of beard — Uniforms in shreds — Shoes clotted with gobs of mud. Eyes droop wearily, Suddenly blink hysterically, And then are set in a stare. As if we saw the horrible thing All over again. Lines that would take Nature Years to produce, (Seam the region About the forehead, eyes and mouth. Men who have receiveci the highest culture That civilization can give. Wear a snarling, savage, demented expression. Is it over? How is it we live? And all the gang? So many faces are missing. So cold — yet just from Hell. [34] Khaki and Gold Upon an upland region of fair France A field of gold and khaki lay outspread. Clusters of pure unassuming daisies — Each flower matched by tawny tunic'd youth. And as they sprawled upon the dewy grass The signal softly came for "jumping off." All eagerly the lads sprang to their feet; There came a lull to harmonize the line. A lean and dour Yank stooped low and plucked A handful of svv^eet daisies from their home, And thrust them in the muzzle of his gun And garlanded his helmet with some more, Inspiring his buddies to the same. "Let's give 'em daisies!" rasped an Easterner. "And Hell !" roared out a boy from the far West. A long, lithe line swept o'er the open field To music of the thunderous barrage; And every here and there a gap was shown With daisy showers as the lads plunged down. What scattering of gold and mud and blood! Quite limp these blessed flowers strewed the ground. Where but before the wind and sun had made [35] Them palpitate in youthful joy of life, Now they lay quiet in eternal sleep. With petals stripped from off their graceful stems Yet there they seemed to rest in peace upon The ground from which the enemy had fled. [36] The Citation Hungry as a Hun And nervous as a tent Taut in the wind The doughboy stood While a medal Was pinned upon his breast. Feeling a speech required He mumbled: "You can't eat It "And you can't smoke it." Not understanding English As we Americans speak, it The French officer said; "Thus are brave soldiers Rewarded!" [37] Economics In France They fed the horses daily While at times we doughboys starved. In the factory We were taught the value Of machinery And how inefficient it was To get mangled. I wonder if in Hell They'll tell us To be careful of the coal. [38] Taps (An accompaniment) Soldier's sweet — song of sleeps — Long he'll lie with this last lullabye— Sound the notes — strong and pure— So they soar with his soul to the sky— [39 Logs Two logs met in a fire-place; Each fell in love at first touch. "Will you lean on me forever?" Said the hard cedar wood. "Nothing shall part us!" Swore the soft pine wood. And their flame of love Ascended as they kissed. But soon the fire dwindled unto ashes And their love lay cold upon the hearth. [40] A Blue Law One time In Bolshevikia There was a dreadful drop In church attendance. So a law was passed Charging exorbitant prices For pew reservations. From then on The temples were thronged And people boasted Of their frequent trips To church. [41J Among the Ravine Tripping lightly along The narrow, rocky ravine That leads up to Success, Love spied Gold Plodding sternly ahead. She tried to pass And then a struggle followed. The glint in the eyes of Gold Bothered Love — So she was overcome. [42] The Revelation In the blessed Beyond The Soul of a husband Met the Soul of his wife And said, "I never knew you were so beautiful. [43] A Mother She nursed him — She taught him — She worked for him — She visited him in prison. But he had broken both The law of God and man And died for it. She cried for him — Then went to church for him. [44] Woman A super scientist placed In his crucible Vanity and Virtue Mixed with Temperance Hoping to produce A woman. Many, many times he tried But failed and finally Gave up in deep despair. Success awaited him If he had thought Of dropping in a grain Of Love. [45] A Rose Beneath the sun's caresses Bloomed the rose Until 'twas plucked and kissed By one whose red, red lips Shamed the rose Into a bloodless lily. From amorous embrace that night The rose was crushed to death. [46] The Hobo and the Dream Child In a box-car on a siding Sat the hobo CuddHng a puny fire Made from straw. The Dream Child toddled up In shivering rags and said: "I cannot find a shelter." The hobo wrapped it In a burlap bag And bade it curl Beside the smoky flame, Feeding the blaze With the remaining straw Which formed his bed. The Dream Child told him Of its coming from A place in which the gold Was plentiful as water And gushed through iron pipes For use by all Who loved its beauty. The hobo packed the Dream Child off [47] On a rumbling fast freight Bound for its distant country. He went back to the ashes Of his straw fire and wondered Why there wasn't straw enough in the world For everybody's fire. [48] As Seen from the Stars It was in the School of the Stars Where all the little bright ones Were learning psychology from a scholar. "Instinctive actions are displayed," Said the High-Light, "In their purest form By animals not very high In the scale of intelligence. Among the mortals The men become blind and deaf To all other impressions As they follow the trail of gold." [49] The Ritual When he was baptized — Red-faced and sticky As a ball of candy They said: "Doesn't he look lovely." When he was married — His evening coat askew And nervous as a flea They saici: "Doesn't he look lovely." When he lay in his casket — Pale and wasted Like a washed-out painting They said: "Doesn't he look lovely." [50] Three Wishes If I had three wishes td~ use To shav^e the world of its sharp edges, First, I would wish That everyone had a sense of humor — And secondly I'd wish That my first wish would bear good fruit; And with my last I'd wish for three more wishes So to wish what I had wished before — All over again. And thus I'd wish my life away And die in laughter. [51] The Weather He felt that the Sun Was a glorious flame And the Air that he breathed Was exquisite perfume And Life was very good after all; So he said to his friend, "Isn't it a nice day?" [52] The Arch-Murderer An arch-murderer slit the throat Of every lawyer. When brought before the bar He pleaded his own case And drew a sentence Of thirty days in jail. [53] A Silly Lad '"Cause everybody loves and smiles "And gives at Christmas time "Why cannot every day be Christmas, Dad?' "Because a man must work and fight "To earn a lot of money "For next Christmas, Son." "Well, if a man stopped "Making lots of money "Wouldn't every day be Christmas?" "Now, don't be silly, little man, "When you grow up you'll understand "Why every day cannot be Christmas." [54] The Cynic "There is no God "There is no Love "And man is made of clay." The youthful Cynic Spoke and smiled Like a garden of golden sunbeams. And then I knew Lie was no Cynic. [55] On the Train I saw an oak Sturdy and strong And said to myself, "Ah! that is man!" I glimpsed a bird flying Swift and sure And thought again of man. My brother commuter Turned to me and said; "Hope the train's on time; I've been late so much The last few days I'm ashamed to look the boss in the face." Is^-] Evolution A fashionable man Loved a maiden of a land Quite uncivilized. He made the maid his wife And he taught her all the life That was civilized. In a very little while She adopted all the style That was civilized. From the diamonds on her ears Or the brooch upon her breast And the load of heavy rings — No one ever could have guessed That once she was Uncivilized. [57] Philosophy I sat a siege With a group of philosophers And at the finish ReaHzed How practical a person A savage is. 58] A Cynogram The unknown Weaver works A warp of joy And woof of sorrow. At different times it is A radiant rainbow, A Scotch plaid, Or a block of sombre black. This Cloth of Life Contains few strands That we, ourselves, insert; Yet we must wear it. [59] Growing- Pains To reach the prime Of Eternity Life's children all must suffer 'Growing-pains Which we call Death. [60] Sanctuary In a temple of worship I sat and waited for the ceremony Of brotherhood to begin. A lumbering ox of a person In entering the pew Settled his foot upon my own. If it had not been the House of the Lord I would have killed the lout. [6i] The Man Who Lived in Jail Ninety miles south of the Rio Grande Lies Santa Natalia Fast the waste of mesquite and nopal Tucked in the valley of Las Huitlacoches With its charm of sunny, restful remoteness. The stress and scuffle of Anglo-Saxon America Seems like a dream of another world As one yields to the carefree atmosphere Of the land of yesterday And the to-morrow that never comes. The inhabitants of this tiny, lonely oasis Are a kindly, simple folk, Unspoiled by commercialism And untouched by the ebb and flow Of Mexico's recurrent civil wars. There is a wealth of pasturage For their cattle, sheep and goats. And a fertile soil that yields Rich crops of corn and sugar cane. The government is the comandante And a somnolent garrison of perhaps a dozen soldiers [62] Whose arms are single-shot Remingtons And relic Mausers from the Spanish-American war. Enemy parties of guerrillas Leave them amiably indifferent; They are quite as willing to shout "viva" For one side as for the other. I learned there was but one soul in the hamlet Who spoke English — And he was in jail. I strolled down the ragged trail And came to an adobe building Somewhat larger than the ordinary dwelling, In the shade of which was sprawled A motley group of soldiers; I asked one the location of the jail. "You are looking at it, brother," Said he in excellent American. "Are you from the States?" I asked, Puzzled over his swarthy complexion. "I am half Mexican, born in Santa Natalia; I have lived some years in New York; I am here because I wish to be." [63] He was not over thirty-five But his eyes showed centuries of something; Slender, and with the fingers of a pianist, He was not of the adventurer type. His face seemed strangely famihar And I felt that I had met him Somewhere in the past. "Are you the warden?" "No," he answered after a thoughtful pause; "I am the star prisoner; After New York vv^as through with me I came to Santa Natalia; One night I was drinking in the cantina And had a row with a man Who was something in the government. They put me in here and forgot about me; That was two years ago. "I have it very easy; There is nothing to do But eat, sleep, and enjoy myself. When I want a little paseo, They give me a guard to take me out; I drift around the town And people give me All the eats and cigarettes I need. [64] The comandante and the priest Get books for me to read. "Sometimes when I am lucky with the dice We put on a little show at the cantina; Then they send another guard To bring us both back home. Nobody cares, because what is the use?" Manuel, he was called. Insisting that he had forgotten His last name. After the strife and turmoil of New York This passive village soothed the ragged nerves. I could understand Manuel — In Mexico there is no to-morrow. One morning I idly watched a burro Who roused himself occasionally To nibble at the mesquite leaves. Sleepy chickens taking a sun and dust bath, Expressed their contentment by faint croonings. Two children naively unaware of their nakedness. Played in the shade, building little sand houses, And trying to entice a dog to play with them; Finally they tired of play And stretched out to sleep beside their dog. The hotel-front was a cascade Of creeping vines and flowers. There was no sign of life Save the fluttering of brilliant butterflies, The whirring of a hummingbird, And the drowsy droning of a bumblebee. Over the dull, twisting trail of yellow, A distant cloud of dust arose. "Best come inside, Senor. I do not know who is coming. It may be . . The voice of Trujillo, the inn-keeper. Melted into his heavy breathing. I entered; The entire family was within And my host was barring the heavy door. The windows with their cemented iron bars Threw shadows around the room. In the distance sounded a crisp crackling; From the juzgado Came the sharp, biting reports of Mausers And heavier punctuations of old Remingtons In a lively fusillade. The firing increased In volume And then it suddenly ceased. I heard an outbreak of falsetto Indian yells; A Trujillo youngster peering from the window [66] Called to his father that the garrison had surrendered. Outside, the victors were riding Toward the fallen fortress. They were a fierce-faced group of thirty. What they lacked in uniformity of dress, They made up in variety of weapons. The color-bearer was an Indian girl With eyes that pranced Like a pair of jet black steeds. The comandante and the guerrilla chief Bartered bows and compliments. The latter made a grandiloquent address Filled with such words as "patriotism" And "honor" and "civilization" In which he granted amnesty complete To all of Santa Natalia. The garrison promptly swore allegiance To the new government And the comandante philosophically Went home for his afternoon siesta. A few evenings afterward I listened to the unexcited gossip In the Cafe of the Little Drop of Water. [67] In stumbled Manuel as tipsy as a top, With desperate eyes and lips compressed; Thrusting his head upon his folded arms, He wore the sign of dull despondency. "Homesick?" I soothingly said. "Homeless is a better word," he huskily replied. "Where is your guard?" "No more guard — no more jail," he sadly said. "Garcia, the head of the new government A few days back told me that I was free; He wanted me to be the comandante. I begged him to inform me of my crime, That he should make me leave my jail. He waved his arms and swore That never would he confine One of the country's patriots." "Were you so fond of the carcel?" He wanly smiled and with a supercilious touch As the sky might look at a grain of sand. "What more could a man desire? All sorts of leisure and no responsibility — No pleasure-loving woman [68] To turn a man Into a routine rat; Nor is there any subway To crush the soul of a man Into a paltry pellet." I said encouragingly: "Where there's a will there's a jail." "I've been drunk as a duck," he said, "And nobody will notice me. I have picked a fight with many But not one gave me a chance to shoot." He sighed and then continued: "Last evening, I flirted With the standard bearer of Garcia And induced her to run away with me. Hiding her In a cabin deep in the mountains, I despatched a messenger to Garcia Telling him of what I had done. He sent back word That he was eternally obliged As he had tried for long To rid himself of her. The girl Is now in love with me And wants to work for IVIanuel And says she would be happy If I will beat her daily." [69] "You do not wish to own her?" I could not forget The Indian girl with eyes like prancing blacks. He had time to look far back into the past. With his sombre brown eyes before he answered. "A man can have a woman or happiness — But not both." Days later came the news That a bold bandit had robbed the paymaster Of the Sierra Mining Company. The native officials were full of promises For the capture of the robber; Privately they yawned. Two troopers from the mining village Eventually wandered over; They visited the garrison, Smoked corn-shuck cigarettes, Chatted and flirted with the senoritas; Bye and bye they jogged unhurriedly away. Manuel told me all about it. He was in lofty spirits; Not so drunk as usual And with a hopeful countenance. He sprawled upon a chair, Slowly puffing a cigarette. [70] "When the paymaster's hand went to his hip, I almost dropped my Colt and fled into the cactus; He pulled out a roll of bills As thick, as a burro's belly. I told him I was Manuel From Santa Natalia. It should be only a question of time When I will be back in my cozy jail." A week passed, which in Mexico Is as long or as short as you care to make It. There was no further sign Of any official interest in the robbery. Manuel was getting nervous; He boldly boasted of the hold-up. His listeners would laugh good-naturedly, Not raising their eyes from the dominoes. I prepared to leave for Vera Cruz . And catch a vessel back To the City of Worry and Scurry As Manuel called New York, He heard of my preparations And came to see me. "Leaving?" he slowly said. "If you would care to go North with me, I could use you, Manuel; [71] And I promise to provide you With plenty paseo." Manuel shook his head decisively And faster smoked his corn-shuck cigarette. He dug into his faded muddy tunic Bringing forth a musty bag. "Here is the result of the hold-up. It is only money — But there is a reward for its return. If I brought it myself to the Justice The company would never receive it And I would probably be murdered For knowing too much." I did not understand and told him so. "The mining company is Americano; You tell the superintendent I am the bandit; Tell him that I will surrender; Then see the comandante and let him know He may obtain the reward If he but sentence me." "Why not skip away with the money And make yourself comfortable?" [72] His features hardened as he said; "I did that once, — never again; Once I was prisoner and slave To a woman when I was free; Back in jail all that was past and done with; I was free from worry And had only to pass each day Dreaming and smoking in the shade." I was struck with a flash of memory. "Weren't you the teller in the Times Square National?" "It was so," he confessed, "Sing Sing spilled me out two years ago; The woman got it all And went away with another, So I came here and made myself a home." . . . That evening I brought the soldiers To make the arrest. A few days later for the last time I rode out of Santa Natalia. Before the jail Manuel was stretched in the shade With the soldiers of the garrison, More one of them than prisoner. [73] "Look me up In New York some time," I greeted. "Never again New York for me," he said. "I am going to be here Until the next revolution — Then I w^U break into jail again." "Any message for the City Of Hustle and Bustle?" I bantered. "You might tell that poor fool Who married my woman That I feel great sorrow for him." A soldier spoke in Spanish to Manuel; He rose and said to me : "It is time to go for our paseo. We will go to the cantina And Juan will give us pulque; Then we shall visit Garcia And go around to our other friends For enchiladas and cafe And a little chat. Goodbye !" [74] Tracks With a boat for oxen A youth plowed the sea Until his beard was white As the fringe of the waves; But always would his furrows Vanish as quickly as they came. People would say, "You fool! You have wasted your life In doing nothing." But he would smile and reply, "No one can make tracks in the sea Exactly like mine." [75] The Surf The waves are ardent lovers Wooing a sweetheart With tumultuous kisses; When she rebuffs They storm with unrelenting fury Until she gives herself completely. [76] Efficiency America counted its coins With an efficiency That made the clink reverberate Across the ocean. When the flower of Europe's youth Became a forest of bayonets, And the rattle of Death Rolled over the seas, \¥e stopped our counting for an instant. Shrugged our shoulders, And thumbed our coins more feverishly. And then we saw strange spots upon the gold We poured the blood into the scales And balanced it with sunbeams. Sunbeams are the Ideals of Nature; They are fickle things and hard to grasp. Yet give a happy warmth. America counted its cartridges With an efficiency [77] That made the world reverberate With wonder. The sunbeams from a newborn Sun Tipped the bloody scales of Justice. America is counting coins again With an efficiency That makes the clink reverberate Across the ocean. The sunbeams mingle now and then With the glint of golden metal: We shall count with greater speed If we but draw the shade: Sunbeams are gooci for the soul But hard on the eye. [78] Balance A certain hod-carrier For every load of bricks Would bear a hod of horseshoes On the other shoulder. At the top of the ladder He'd cast the horseshoes To the ground below And descend with his pair of hods Balanced with equal emptiness . . Rhymes at times Are like that. [79] Usage I gave some money to a rich man And he put it in his bank; I gave some money to a tattered beggar And he bought more rags for his back. [80] Headings Newsboys seldom read below the headlines: Tombstones reach no further than the grass. [8i] Gifts The stars offered a choice of gifts — A jewel, a tree, or a pretty child. "I'll take the jewel," said the farmer, "For it will shine forever And there are many trees and children But few priceless stones in the world." "ril take the tree," said the city man, "To plant before my door and give me shade; It will grow like ai pretty child And yet not show ingratitude." "We'll take the child," Said the lonely pair; "For it will make one of three Where two made nothing before." [82] Intelligence When the ancients planned a voyage o'er the seas They consulted the oracle at Delphi . . . Mrs. Fitz lifted the receiver: "Hello, is this the Weather Bureau? We are planning a picnic for the orphans; Tell me, if you please, What sort of day next Saturday will be?" [83] Sky in a City The business man striking his monthly balance Looked through his office window — The sky is a bank And the stars are its fortune. The poet on the roof of his boarding house — The sky is a garden of phosphorescent flowers. Sitting on a park bench with her gentleman friend, Mamie said: "Look at the bunch of stars in the sky. Ain't it awful pretty!" [84] The Pervert He walked home from the office Through the park And was seized with a perversion. He burled his face deep In the buds of a rose-bush Inhaling the fragrance with rapture. Quickly he recovered himself And glanced around covertly. A short distance away A scowling policeman Twirled his club threateningly. [85] The Tattler As the city's white day Shades into the mauve twilight A swallow skims across the cornice Of my cage. Perhaps he is a woodland scout Hastening back with the news That another tree has been planted Upon the edge of our pavement. How the leaves in the forest this night Will rustle with gossip ! [86] Tactics "Suppose I am behind? Do I spend it on myself? I haven't a saucer in the house And the kids — your kids — The toes are sticking thru their shoes! If I don't get ten dollars You'll get no supper to-night!" Screams Jane. "Where do I get the money? Can I grind it out like a sausage machine? It's ten for this and ten for that And now another ten. Damn it! You'll make me a thief. Here's five; that's all I got!" John roars. Jane snatches as John stalks out Slamming the door behind him. On his way to the station John chuckles, "Fooled the old lady out of five." Foxy boy that John. [87] Across the dumbwaiter Jane boasts to Mrs. Shultz How she wheedled five from John When she only needed three. [88] Birdlings An out-of-town swallow culling crumbs From urban cobble-stones — A sophisticated sparrow pecking worms Off a luscious landscape. A country girl with wistful eyes Before a shop of artificial flowers — A city maid talking love To a dainty dandelion. [89] The Smiths The gas flame seemed to be fanning itself — The kitchen was so hot. Mrs. Smith left the steaming stove To cool her moist cheek at the fire-escape window; Surprised to see that the sky was still there She wondered if there were Smiths on each soft star. Mr. Smith shouted from the dining room: "The soup was good, Ann; I'm ready for the meat!" [90] LIBRARY OF CONGRESS iilillllllllilliilll" 018 394 269 4 h