rt) ^■ijs-n, SONGS OF THE SOUTHWEST Songs of the Southwest; 8T THEODORE F. PRICE, The Dramatic Impersonator. TOPEKA, KANSAS: Geo. W. Crane & Co., Publishers, 1881. Copyright applied for. ^\r ■«;>>) G. W. CRANE & CO . PRINTERS ':ht of l)rilliant crenius, startlino^ for a time the world — THE PRAIRIE FIRE. 57 Wanes the meteors — swiftly lading-^ down oblivion's wa- ters hurled. From the hamlet far returning, late the weary settler came To his homestead desolated by the devastating flame, To behold his lonely dwelling looming o'er the black- ened wild ! Scarce a vestige of his garners — save a heap of rains piled. Still his spirit is undaunted, though his winter stores are burned. Still his broad lands spread around him — smiling fields are soon returned. Neighboring settlers' wives and children, homeless, shiv'ring in the blast, Hover round their smould'ring ruins'\uid the desolation vast; Nor a vestige e'en remaining, save what clings about the form Of the store of raiment slathered. 'ij:ainst the bitins^ win- ter storm. Yes, 'tis well, man still redeemeth human nature from its wrong. 58 SONGS OF THE SOUTHWEST. • By warm charities dispensing the unfortunate among — Products of long years of labor swept away — restored again ; The frontiersman, persevering, builds his city on the plain. THE CARNIVAL OF DEATH. This 2^oem, loith the shorter ones that immediatehj follow^ the scene of which was Newton, record but the facts ; as the settlers of that noio flourishing city can testify. THE CARNIVAL OF DEATH, PART I. NEWTON. — THE TEXANS. /^^OME, liardj pioneers who dared To brave the western wild, And these broad prairies early shared With nature's swarthy child, And hear this faithful history Of Kewton, by the Santa Fe. Wild nature's prairies, broad and fair, Unbroken by the steel, Rich as Euphrates' valleys were, Their treasures would reveal To hearts heroic here to come. Possess the land, and rear a home. 62 SONGS OF THE SOUTHWEST. The railroad pierced the prairies 2:reen; — Topeka saw begun The gleaming line to lay between The Mexic mountains dun ; Vast riches to convey afar From where the hoof-trod llanos are. The shrieking engine swift conveys Vast multitudes who spread Far west and south, through lengthening ways, Plodding with ceaseless tread ; Their couch but nature's green, until They rear their rustic domicile. The sturdy smith smote clanging bar, The craftsman rattled loud, Broad cities rose, and gleaming far Stands many a village proud, Where huge-horned oxen haul their load From thrifty squatter's thatched abode. ITewton was born amid the storms Of conflicts' fiercest blows; Night's midnight hush heard wild alarms, Where friends were turned to foes, THE CARNIVAL OF DEATH. 63 Whose desp'rate deeds of blood forbid From daylight's searching sun were hid. Ah ! 'twas a sanguinary place, Where roughs their revels kept; Whose outcast crew — a daring race, While good men sweetly slept, — Broke midnight's silent solitude With orgies riotous and rude ! Her blood-stained cemetery proclaims Of darkly dreadful deeds; Rude head-boards oft record their names On whom the coyote feeds, Who fell beneath the crimson hand, Before the law redeemed the land. Here Texas sent her myriad herds, With daring drovers, wild. And reckless as the world affords; — In frequent fray embroiled; A hardy horde in wildness reared, Whose gold was sought, whose passions feared. To spur the steed in hottest race. When stampede larums the herd; 64 SONGS OF THE SOUTHWEST. To throw the lasso in the chase, "While llanos broad are scoured, Fulfill the sum of arts pursued By Texan herder, fierce and rude. He knows no law, obeys no creed, And where the clime that can Produce such race for daring deed — Whose spirit spurns the ban Of civilization, — whose true reign Is o'er the herd, the steed, the plain? But chivalrous he is, and true, When on his native plain, Would his last morsel share with you, Till wine has fired his brain; Then hot blood's brawling oaths are heard. His friend is slain at slightest word ! Along the trail, with trampling hoof, And whoop and yell they came ; Shrewd Xewton vouchsafes no reproof — She claims the gilded game — THE CARNIVAL OF DEATH. 65 For, e'er he quits her streets again, ]^or coins in Texan's purse remain. His jingling spurs with ceaseless clang, The pave beneath him pelt ; Two murd'rous pistols ever hang Suspended from his belt. The play holds o'er him close control, — In game of chance would stake his soul ! They stroll the streets a roist'rous route, Aflush with liquid flame ; — I wot, their wild, defiant shout Proclaims no spirit tame. As each upon his charger leaps, And through the town like whirlwind sweeps ! Nor fleeter may tbe mustang speed Athwart the grassy main. Than rides this reckless renegade. That laws would bind in vain. Through JJ^ewton's streets with yell and whoop, With wild, demoniacal troop ! 66 SONGS OF THE SOUTHWEST. PART n. THE AVENGER. 1\ /riD Mexic' scenes where Rio Grande Her shining hound'ry rolls, Where horn and hoof possess the land The ranchman's wealth controls, There dwelt, where wide the waters flow, The daughter of the ranchero. Perfection's round sy metric form l!^orita fair possessed ; Her moulded beauty's magic charm Health's fairest glow caressed, "Whose warm life current's richer glow Was from old Spain and Mexico. Impulsive, ardent when she loves, Her hatred burns the same ; — Black eyes burn fierce, when anger moves- THE CARNIVAL OF DEATH. 67 Beware their deadly flame ! Maid of her clime knows nought of fear, And holds a lover's life — how dear ? Should her loved idol fall before Some furious foeman's hand, Vengeance is swift — her soul's at war — See Mexic's maiden stand ! — Swift flash the dagger's deadly blows ! That small white hand deals death to foes ! Friend of her youth, ITorita long Heard Riley's fervent vow; Since childhood's day they strayed among These scenes ; and she, e'en now. Would list ofttimes with downcast eyes, Yet held him hopeless of the prize. His sweet guitar's soft serenade [N'orita near him drew ; All tender tones to charm the maid His skilf ull fingers knew ; With him she sought — true Spanish girl — The wild fandango's mazy whirl. 68 SONGS OF THE SOUTHWEST. But hers was as a sister's love, Or light as friend of youth ; Nor knew the tender spell to move To life's enduring truth; Yet 't was the light of Riley's heart, But born to bring life's bitterest smart. Her hand had saved his life, — one morn, Enraged, the lord of herds Tossed him on high with goreing horn — She heard his calling words; — With lasso thrown, securely tied, She forced the maddened brute aside. A life's devotion, Riley vowed ; His steadfast soul ne'er turned; To its fond idol mutely bowed. While fires consuming burned ; — Sworn to repay — with life he would — That kindly deed of hardihood. Clusky the trader came to woo The black-eyed Mexic maid ; He won her heart ; his ^vows were true ; Soon with his bride'^he strayed THE CARNIVAL OF DEATH. 69 With giant herds to Newton's mart, Well skilled in thrifty trader's art. Now Newton's day of turmoil came ; Her people must decide To lay the steel, or loose their fame, And view the iron glide To Wichita, that hurned to grasp The ringing rail with vig'rous clasp. The day ope'd stormy with debate ; Contention ruled the hour ; And Bailey bore the badge of statej— Bold herdsman — proud of power To quell the gath'ring riot, when Madness should rule the minds of men. Wine floAvs in torrents — many a blow^ By sturdy brawler dealt. Lays clam'rous opponent full low By argument he felt; When twilight gloomed the brawling scene. Men maudlin moved with murd'rous mien. 70 SONGS OF THE SOUTHWEST. Bailey might not resist the bowl ; — That eve 't was deeply drained; Its demon gained complete control; His mission was disdained By murd'rous rage — the guardian made To force the law — nor law obeyed ! Quick Clusky came, and strove for peace, — Hot words in anger rose ; But while he bade the turmult cease, Swift through the thronging foes Flashed Bailey's weapon ! — by his breast The whistling lead flew harmless past. His Texan foe well Clusky knew Stood thirsting for his life ; Quick as the ball that by him flew, Prepared for deadly strife — Fierce flashed his splendid weapons round. And Bailey's life-blood stained the ground. The treach'rous Texans of the plain. Amid their revels swore They'd never seek the trail again Till Clusky breathed no more — THE CAKNIVAL OF DEATH. 71 Exultant o'er their plot they grew — " Vengeance ! — his hand a comrade slew ! " The snare is set, the hour is near, In secret all have vowed. Before the midnight moon appear, Clusky shall wear his shroud ! — By vengeful violence shall die Where dancers meet, when mirth is high ! The fearless trader laughed at those Who, warning, sought to save ; In daring hardihood he chose The servile foe to brave — Intimidated^— he afraid ? IN'ot though ten thousand plots were laid ! Music and mirth are mingling in The hall, where lamps are bright; And feet trip lightly mid the din Where revel rules the night ; — Bright beauty beams with laughing eye, Her charms adorned in rivalry. 72 SONGS OP THE SOUTHWEST. The music ceased — at Clusky's side His pensive bride reclines : She little dreams what ills betide Where wine with pleasure shines ; How brilliant ball-room's robes of snow With life-blood's ruddy stains shall glow The trader's gaze on that glad throng Rests in abstracted mood ; He heeds them not who whirl along And on his dreams intrude ; E'en now, mid gaiety and life, Thought teems with speculation rife. With sudden start on her he gazed, Whose small hand pressed his arm ; Whose full dark eyes expressive raised, Were beaming full and warm ; Long lashes drooping dark enhance The power of softest pleading glance. — " Come, let us from this place away ; Nought is there here can fill My heart with cheerfulness — why stay With these forebodings ill ? THE CARNIVAL OF DEATH. 73 Say, shall we go ? Oh, well I know You'll not deny me — may we go ? " " Norita, stay — I fain would learn Whom yon sombrero wears; Him I have met ; — I must discern If there be cause for fears ; — If 'tis his face, should that be he. Prepare for basest treachery. " A time in Arizona's mine. By thronging foes beset, I saw a friendly dagger shine. With life-blood dripping wet. Which vanished with returning peace. But not till I saw Riley's face ! '' My chiefest foe is here to-night, Whom I rejoiced as slain By Riley's hand, in that fierce fight, Among the miner train. — Wait but for briefest moment here Till this gay throng the way shall clear." 5fl jp 5|C JjC 5|I Two eyes that glow like living coals. Dart deadly gleams of hate. 74 SONGS OF THE SOUTHWEST. As though the throng that visage scowls Above them while they wait — Clusky beholds, and nerves for strife, For now he knows 'tis life for life. " Carrambo, Clusky ! Riley's care Finished your foe, you thought ; The tables turned ; — fair fortune here This fit occasion brought — Vengeance is mine ! — your forfeit soul Flits e'er you full moon higher roll ! " The rufiian's sneering accents fall Harsh grating, hoarse and low^ ; Bold threats brave Clusky ne'er appall — His w^eapons front his foe — ^' Assassin, you should know me well ! That boast your own fate shall impel ! *' Beware ! red-handed Anderson ! A fitting instrument The Texans found — Have you begun With murderous intent? You prate of death ! — draw first and fire !- Receive my lead for all your ire! " THE CARNIVAL OF DEATH. 75 A harmless flash ! The shrieking girl Clings close to Clusky's form ; Holds vice-like while his foe would hirl Away each circling arm. — Through Clusky's neck the bullet sped ; The foe received his answering lead. The fair avenger's jeweled hand Her gleaming dagger drew To late that dear life to defend — ISTorita's steel was true, — Deep buried in the murd'rer's side, Who breathed one heavy sigh and died. Reigned wild confusion — strife begun, A vengeful tigress she — The fair, the daring, desperate one Deals terror while they flee ! With weapons swiftly aimed, and true, Forbearance she is stranger to. Norita's frenzy fierce defies The Texan foemen all ; Above her loved one's form that lies Low in the fatal hall ; 76 SONGS OF THE SOUTHWEST. While echoed her defiant wail, A stranger entered from the trail ! He strode across the threshold red, With weapons fiercely clenched ; His dark eye gleams on Clusky dead. In gory garments drenched — Two weapons flashed their deadly breath I Two herdsmen sank and writhed in death ! And Texan after Texan falls l^eath Rilej^'s fearful aim. — Fierce files his shower of deadly balls, In terror's gory game. Still the destroyer's gleaming eye Demands its victims — see them die ! Oh I horrid view ! confusion reigns, As from the casement springs The stricken wretch, who trembling gains This haven. — Sharply rings Those ruthless weapons ! — wounded, dying, Twelve gory forms all starkly lying! i^orita's gaze met Riley's eyes, And starting in that look, THE CARNIVAL OF DEATH. 77 O'er coming frenzied grief, surprise, Her frame convulsive shook — In deed, in danger had they met, ISTor might she e'er that vow forget. " Whence come you at this hideous hour ? " Her quiv'ring accents broke ? He is avenged — your murd'rous shower Of bullets madly spoke ! But, oh! too late, alas! to save — Who shall compose him for the grave ? " " I must ! — my vow avenged his death — Shall save your precious life ; I will defend with latest breath — Quick ! — flee this hideous strife ! Come, iiy with me this scene of blood ! Already we too long have stood." She threw her form upon her dead, But placidly and pale That face reposed ; — she raised his head; Her fond caresses fail To wake from those still lips a sound, Though arms of love he clasped around. 78 SONGS OF THE SOUTHWEST, She shed no tear o*er love avenged — Long looked and sighed — "Away ! " * ■ ;}: * * * * Death's gory feast was well arranged E'er dawned the morning grey ! — Hard by, in I^ewton's graveyard drear, The Texan's grassy graves appear. Ha ! 't was a blood-stained funeral. The drooping herdsmen made. As bending o'er the crimson pall. Dark-visaged mourners laid Each lifeless comrade neath the sod, Who nevermore the llanos trod. LORA. LORA. A BLISSFUL time was Lora's life, Where vernal beauties bloom ; Secluded far from civic strife, In peaceful prairie home ; Where blushing with the tinted flower Her carol lightly cheered the hour. A ghoul strayed o'er the prairie far In chase with hound and gun ; He saw the wild flower blooming there, Where easily was won With blandishments and artful wile The trustful heart that knew no guile. Her wealth of love on him bestowed, Who knew well how to please, Sweet Lora's soul with rapture glowed Pure as the balmy breeze — 82 SONGS OF THE SOUTHWEST. Enchanted day ! oh, hallowed time I Dispeled delusion I — woe and crime ! The sympathetic tear shall start, Wrung by the touching tale Warm from the crushed and bleeding heart Of lovely Lora pale ; Whose joys were as the glassy stream, Till currents dark destroy its gleam. He told of dear delights of home. Beguiled that truthful trust — Oh ! could dishonor to her come, And man betray the best, And leave love in its agony. That would have perished e'en for thee ? Alas ! like nightshade's deadly blight Enwrapped in pleasing guise, The poison lay, e'er yet the night Obscured the brightest skies : — The charmer's gauzy web was flung In plighted vow and honied tongue. Unhappy one ! 't were vain to tell What lured thee from thy nest; — LORA. 83 A lie, a promise, and thou fell — Believing thou wert blest. Oblivion's mantle soon shall fall O'er woes that tenclerest hopes appal. Life's hope, is gone, that peaceful cot. And rapturous kiss of lov.e; Sweet girl, thine unexpected lot — A scene where horror wove Her pall of anguish round thine heart, So foully wronged — thy woes are short. Grief gnawed the crushed and bleeding heart, Deserted in its pain ; The worm wrought ceasely to part Cords ne'er to knit again ; Full soon, the spirit stands at bay, And nature bids her child away. How small and white the liljy hand The deadly dagger turned Toward that pure bosom, where the brand Of lewdness never burned ? ]N'ow all the light of life is flown ; Dispair the crowning deed has done. 84 SONGS OF THE SOUTHWEST. Bright gleams the steel, descends the knife, Athirst for crimson drink ; Warmed in that fair young bosom's life. Poised on death's mystic brink — They laid her on the blood-stained bier, Cold hearts and only strangers near. He came again e'er Lora died ; — Swift retribution then Brought the destroyer to her side To fix her barb within The craven soul of him who stole Her young life's happiness — her all. The spirit trembles on the verge Of time, so nearly flown ; As from death's shades the soul to urge, Those orbs turn to his own — 'Tis ended— and the look she gave Haunts the destroyer to his grave. Oh ! pure as evening's silver dew ! So pale, so innocent ; Health gave her rarest rosy hue, E'er thy young heart was rent; tORA. 86 For thou wert formed for nature's bower, Sweet Lora, crushed and perished flower. The lark will caroll o'er thy tomb, The midnight wind shall moan ; The fragrant wild rose here shall bloom, So beautiful and lone — Where art thou gone? oh, spirit fair ? For only dust reposeth there ! Where shines the pale moon calmly on, When night obscures the plain, They laid the form of Lora down Beneath the grassy main ; Where willows weep neath Luna's rays. Where coyote roams and marmot plays. FRAGMENTS FROM NEWTON. THE COACHMAN OF THE MOUNTAINS. A L SHATTUC drove the Denver stage Along the mountain steep ; Like lightning by the chasm's edge, Ten thousand fathom deep ; While whistling whip he fearless played, And urged his leaders undismayed. The ambushed savage strove to hold His passengers a prey, But Shattuc kept, with spirit bold. The wiley foe at bay ; And sped unscathed and fearless through, Through dangers crowded on his view ! He stood a hero 'mong the clan Of daring, hardy souls ; 90 SONGS OF THE SOUTHWEST. Excelled them all in skill — a man A generous heart controlls ; Ambitious that each hardy steed Should all things fast in fleetness lead. Wild Colorado's mountain step Loud echoed neath the tread Of flying steeds that swiftly swep Like torrent o'er its bed Of gleaming cliffs and channeled rocks Whose voice the crashing thunder mocks ! The perils of the mountain road Are all in safety past ; The skulking savage's abode Has sunk from sight at last ; For Al. has found an easy drive Where prairie hamlets rise and thrive. From Newton to young Wichita, Through Sedgwick fair he sped; They praised his greys who wondering saw His high vehicle red, That o'er the prairie winding glides While travelers peer from latticed sides. THE COACHMAN OF THE MOUNTAINS. 91 Al. Shattuc, mounted as of yore, Behind six prancing steeds, Strikes toward his leader far before, That little urging needs,* — A spring! — overturned ! — Ai's mid the crash! Dragged neath those hoofs that madly dash ! Crushed neath his stage's ponderous wheels, A writhing mass he lay ; Death o'er those palid features steals — He perished with the day : — " By Mary's grave there let me lie." He said, and closed his eyes to die. True hero ! in thy calling brave ! Oh ! daring, early dead ! A tribute lies upon thy grave From one who with thee sped, Through labj^rinths of wilderness. Whose verse thy prowess would confess. MARSHAL KING, THE DANCE HOUSE. T 1 rHERE yonder light with ruddy glow Shoots its seductive ray, The dance-house stands with gable low, And glaring frontal gay ; And stirring strains of music float From viol's chord and bugle throat. Here frailty holds high carnival ; — Unenviable fame ! And deeds that purity appall Do cling about her name, Whose light admirers, warmly gay Ribaldry's flagrant jests essay. 94 SONGS OF THE SOUTHWEST. There may be seen seductive mien ; — From haunts of pleasure near, Voluptuaries fair convene And smile as they appear ; Till revelers attendant there, Charmed by the nymphs, led captive are. The lamps glow brightly over all, And stirring music swells ; The mazy dance whirls through the hall, And loud-voiced mirth impells ; And claspedvjl wot^full amorously Are zones of sculptured symmetry. The wild voluptuous dance proceeds, The wild'ring wine is poured. And each his flushed companion leads Beside the banquet board ; Where passions dread assume their reign ; While madness rules the burning brain. The ready daggers gleam below The broad belts of the crew ; Fair woman oft is decked, I trow, With murd'rous weapons, too ! MARSHAL KING. — THE DANCE HOUSE. 95 Ah, me ! when erring beauty strays, What power shall curb, w^hat guide her ways? About the hall the lamps were bright; And painted beauty shed Its artificial charm that night, When riot raised its head ! King came w^hen rose wine's wild alarms ; Demanding men resign their arms ! Defiant Edwards fiercely drew The weapon at his belt ; His eye along the barrel threw, And death's dread pangs w^ere felt, By daring King who strove for law. Whose thronging friends fieet vengeance vow. It vv^ell behooved the slayer, then. To mount in hottest haste,— Ride fieetly forth with might and main, By eager hundreds chased ; And swift as speeds the prairie gale, He shot like arrow o'er the trail ! SONGS OF THE SOUTHWEST. What charger might o'ertake him there ? Fool's folly 'tvs^ere to come ! As well pursue the viewless air, As Edwards toward that home Which he in safety fleetly found Unscathed, to roam on Texan ground ! Poor King ! too well your mournful end Is through the region known ; Sure retribution shall attend. With fury's fiercest frown, The hand that slew where duty called, The trust that danger ne'er appalled. ^^M RUIN ERCIIAXT'S EXCHANGE," thebuildmg bore In letterinp^ broad and plain; The mien its dark frequenters wore. Proclaimed them men wlio deign To sink a name, risk life, and swim Through seas of blood in calling grim. Bill Dow knew how to lav the plot That lured the Texan in, And few might enter there and not Observe his wager win; Save when for mere delusion, he Lost through his own chicanery. The trustful rustic left his claim With heavy laden van ; Returned with neither cash nor team, A poorer, wiser man ; / 98 SONGS OF THE SOUTHWEST. For he had left his hard-earned cash Where ^N'ewton's spiders wove their mesh. Ambitious Dow his victim drew By band of music, placed Upon pretentious stage in view Of passers by, who gazed Upon the fair display within, Nor probed the schemer's device thin. When once he entered there — alack ! A lamb well shorn he was By that rough gang, who sent him back A mourner with good cause — In poverty to curse the scheme, That thus beguiled him of his team. The keeper of the den was known Well through the broad Southwest; The herdsmen of the trail -had grown Familiar with the pest ; For minions who had little reck Of consequence came at his beck. You might perceive from morn till eve. The Texan herder ride : RUIN. 99 Hard by, secured with lasso, leave His steed, liis wealth and pride, To deal in game for which he burned. Well picked, perchance, e'er he returned. The Gold Room — noted gambling den — Doc. Thayer long had kept ; About him gathered desp'rate men, Whose vigilance ne'er slept, But diligently plied their trade — A fortune lost — as quickly made. Hoc. Thaj^er was a compound strange Of what was bad and good ; Eemorseful pangs unbid would range, And on his soul intrude ; Though good thoughts flew with fleetest wings. Doe. reverenced religious things ! He brought the preacher, who was heard Amid the jingling gold ; Beyond the bar was preached tlie " word," With precepts good and old ; 100 SONGS OF THE SOUTHWEST. When the collection hat went round, Kich recompense was ready found. Where glittering'games of chance were spread, Mock-auction, monte, keno, And each its w^illing victims bled Kound mystic tables green — Oh I How^ well hoodwinked was rustic eye, Weak plaything of grim destin3\ THE SCORGE OF LOCUSTS. T^HE settler, wearied with his toils, Exulting scanned his fair domain ; Dreamed of vast harvests, when rich spoils Of giant fruits and golden grain Should pile his garner's plenteous stores When Boreas through the valley roars; Dreamed o'er improvements for the land, Late wrested from wild nature's hold; Of new enclosures ; — fancy planned A domicile that should enfold His babes with greater comfort ; tlien His e3^e fell on the fields again. Like Egypt's devastating cloud, Came down the locusts — hungry host! That morn, green waved plantations broad. 102 SONGS OF THE SOUTHWEST. That eve their verdure all was lost ! Wherever vegetation grew The hope destroying myriads flew ! Their flights eclipse the sun with grey, Their myriad legions ride the gale ; The scorge descends, and still they stay Till hunger desolates the vale ; Grrim Famine's ghastly face appears, With infant moans and woman's tears. But man has grown humane to man. And from his plenteous garners piled. The philanthropic current ran With plenty for'the settler's child ; And the succeeding year restored Ten fold what fed that insect horde ! DAWNING DAY. nPHROUaH red'ning clouds that Avestward roll, The dawning daylight peers, To cheer the steadfast settler's soul. Proclaiming peaceful years ; His children' throng the busy halls. Where learning's voice to wisdom calls. The hamlet long the lawless home Of mad, marauding men. Allures the tradesman ; craftsmen come And all the arts begin, With industries of lawful trade — Eject the wilhom race dismayed. Young men and maidens, and a bride Trod N^ewton's crimson ground ; Bennett had for his sweetheart sighed ; 104 SONGS OF THE SOUTHWEST. Far journeying east, lie found Devoted love prepared to come And make these ruder scenes lier home. How brilliant were the lamps that night In Bentle3^'s mansion, where Amid a scene of mirth and light Was Bennett's bride, so fair ? There, from rude cabins, many a dame To greet tlie bridal party came. Xow peaceful Newton calmly sits, Nov recks of shriek and blood, That larmed her night; for, oh ! she ^uit^ Her sanguinar}' mood; And her broad prairies, rolling far. Gemmed o'er with many a cottage are. Came soon the sturdy Mennonite From Russia's far-otf shore; Looked far around Avith wild delight And sought to roam no more ; For, this fair realm could realize His wildest dreams of paradise I DAAVNING DAY. 105 Where his quaint structures dot the plain, He prunes the fruitful vine ; — Abodes of peace ! Ah ! not in vain Was crossed the treach'rous brine ! Here wealth awaits, 'tis his to seek With land possessed in many a league. Small need has he for civic courts ; His calm, unruffled life. The non-combative code supports. His creed forbidding strife. Here conscience-favoring laws decree. From war-like arts he shall be free. DEATH OF PRESIDENT LINCOLN DEATH OF PRESIDENT LINCOLN \yl 7'IDE o'er the land there comes a voice of wail ! Why swells man's heart? — why woman's cheek so pale ? Dejected nature's gloomy shadow holds The sombre earth draped in her pensive folds ; Sadly the night-winds whisper with a sigh That name beloved, that name not borne to die ! A miglity name ! to loyal hearts how dear ? 'Tis one the traitor trembling dreads to hear. Time's greatest nation mourns her chiefest pride, And weeps convulsive for a friend and guide. — Hark I — the slow knell that shakes the troubled air With notes of woe, that tell of shroud and bier ! — The infant voice, the broken tones of age. Shall pause to weep above the shrouded page. Alas ! his day too soon on earth was done ; Columbia weeps her greatest, noblest son. 110 SONGS OF THE SOUTHWEST. Kor court intrigues e'er warped his love of truth, Life's virtues claimed his manhood as his youth ; It ne'er was his the battle-blade to wield, The senate called him louder than the field ; He swayed no scepter, and he wore no crown, Though envious monarchs sought as high renown ; Greater than king who reigns above the slave, Is chosen chief to guide the free and brave. Through all thine acts a kindly nature shone ; The pardoned many mourn the statesman gone. Like Amram's son to serfs thou freedom gave; More abject than Old Egypt's Hebrew slave. Scourged for long ages over Southern soil. Groaning and bent to unrequited toil, 1^0 r bonds of kindred, woman's pleading tear. Might sway the soul of tyrant overseer. Long may the sons of Afric's sable race, Shrined in each heart, give thy name deferend place. Hot teeth of blood hounds now no more they fear ; Their clanking chains have ceased to larm the ear; The lash has ceased dread tortures to prolong. Sure vengeance finds the workers of their wrong. The flag went down that shadowed o'er the hordes That fled before the northern legion's swords : — DEATH OF PRESIDENT LINCOLN. Ill When wond'rous glory had the nation won, When clouds had vanished from the nation's sun, When were consigned to many an unknown grave, Sons of the Korth, the valliant ! the brave ! Staid was the hand of devastating war, That spread destruction through the land afar; Pealed the glad notes! — rejoicing bell was heard; — " Peace ! " — was the cry, — " A nation saved ! " the word. Alas ! too soon, the loud-rejoicing bell Was taught to toll the measure of a knell. C?esar victorious deemed his blood unsought When Brutns robbed Rome by his damning plot. Ambitious tyrants bearing haughty sway, Oft'times with blood the price of crime do pay — Could thou suspect ?— How dared death's hideous mien Lurk hungerly amid such brilliant scene ? Mirth in thine heart — gathered around thee there, The capital's array of great and fair — Ha ! mark ! a brow of lowering hate appear ! A spring ! — a flash ! — then gushed a people's tears. That bold assassin did his work too well. When thou, loved chieftain, mid thy glory fell. Mid cruel griefs, foul wrongs so dark and deep, 112 SONGS OF THE SOUTHWEST. Justice forbade her vengeance long to sleep. Her blow has fallen, must thou fall alone, When woe unutterable heard thy dying groan ? In Fame's proud temple still remains a niche Besides the father of thy country, which Throughout all time, thou, gen'rous soul, shall hold, Thy name on high 'mong patriots enroll'd, Who furious fought, intrepid, dauntless band. Whose graves are green in freedom's smiling land; Whose souls still watchful, hov'ring o'er the free, Made thee their leader for posterity. Shrined with the just, thy name shall never die ! The silent urn, where heroe's ashes lie. May ne'er close o'er the niem'ry of the great, While pean's praise shall sound thine high estate. Though o'er the path of humbler life thou trod. True genius raised thee from the grov'ling clod — Emancipator I Savior of the slave ! Pil'd marble points a leader of the brave. And Lincoln's name with Washington shall be Eevered while lives a nation of the free ! Earlham College, April 1865. THE SIEGE. THE SIEGE. C HELLS, like demons wild, are shrieking through the thick and sulph'rous air, In loud tones of terror speaking to the bold hearts gathered there. Hostile ships are in the harbor, and the foe are on the land ; Loud the voice of war commingles with the waves upon the strand. How the leaguered citj echoes with the bursting bombshell's roar! Far throughout its widest precincts fell destruction spreading o'er. Mothers flee with wailing infants for some place of safety bound, If, perchance, in that doomed city, refuge for the weak be found. 116 SONGS OF THE SOUTHWEST. J^or, those wildly shrieking demons mercy show to man nor beast, Like grim devils, hot from hades, here with death to hold a feast ! 'Mid that scene of desperation, little heeding shot and shell- Dealing death and devastation where the ruthless mis- siles fell ; 'Mong the wounded and the dying, who are moaning round her there. Woman's tenderest care supplying, moves a maid sur- passing fair ; With a look of pity beaming from her classic features bright. As a seraph's there descended from the boundless realms of light. As she passes by their ^uches, wondermg glances fol- low her ; — What kind power should send this angel who to them would minister? ISTow, beside a couch she pauses, bending o'er a manly form; K-upy lips have pressed his forehead, and she smoothes the temples warm ; THE SIEGE. 117 Her sweet voice is like soft music, stealing on the dreamer's ear, When the floating barque of Fancy bears the soul be- yond our sphere. " Peaceful be thy slumbers, Ambrose, fiery fever's flush is gone. And I hail thy growing vigor, as the sentinel the dawn." Then the warrior breathed low accents, when he found him not alone, And perceived the eyes of beauty, beaming brightly in his own : — "Dearest Ethel, thy sweet presence seems to herald health's return; Soon the joyous tide of life shall bid no fevers fiercely burn — Oh ! those sunny days, dear Ethel, when the bloom of health is mine ; Oh! the city's joyous anthems, when the light of peace shall shine." Darkly frowns the rocky fortress o'er the waters of the bay ; Lurid gleams flash from the vessels on the deep sea, far away ; Drearily break the waves of ocean, as her tide sweeps o'er the sand, 118 SONGS OF THE SOUTHWEST. And the gloomy shades of nightfall spread their pall above the land. Ominous silence waits upon the dreadful breaking forth of power, For, the warlike hosts have ceased their dismal carnage for the hour. Fondly looks the warrior lover on the maiden at his side, Clasping Ethel's lily hand, soon destined for his loved and lovely bride ! — "But why lurks that shade of sadness 'neath the droop- ing lashes now?" Then he smoothed the braids of amber, as he pressed the fair young brow. " No ! thou shalt not stay, my EtheJC; for thy safety much I fear, Where destruction wide is spreading — where death's angel hovers near ! Though the morrow brings our marriage, when I claim thy hand as mine, Would thou quit the city, Ethel, till the light of peace shall shine ? " Boldly spoke the peerless maiden : — " While the brave are falling near. THE SIEGE. 119 I will wed thee on the morrow, though my joy is blent with fear. O'er my soul, last night, in dreaming, direful fancies round would hover. When it seemed a demon bore me from the bosom of my lover ! " " Be not downcast, darling Ethel, let me see thee smile again. When thou art my bride, to-morrow, we will both be happy then ! " As the restless waves are breaking hoarse along the sandy shore, — Hark ye to the opening thunder ! — 'Tis the cannon's wrathful roar! Oh ! the dark tide of the future ! whither does thy current bear? Oh ! to pierce the cloud of evils when its shadow draw- eth near! I^ow the organ's swelling anthems rise and fall through dome and isle. As the measured boom of cannon with its music blends the while! 120 SONGS OF THE SOUTHWEST. Let the chapel portal open ! for a bride divinely fair, By her lover's arm supported, in her beauty enters there. With her bridal robes as spotless as the virgin snows of earth. Flowing round her form, so fautless, seemeth she of heavenly birth. Lo ! the youth who moves beside her, in his warlike trappings bound, Is a soldier from the battle, with his sword still girt around ! That gay throng who follow after are a fair and goodly train : — Shall they all, who cross that threshold, in life's vigor pass again ? Bridal robes mid scenes of carnage ! death alone light tones may hush. Cupid's arrows are not idle, though life's ills arise to crush. Though pale horrors gather round her, love-light beams in beauty's eye ; When the golden chain has bound her, Love, though vanquished, cannot die. THE SIEGE. 121 In his sacred robes of office waits tlie priest to seal the bans, — Ethel, Ambrose stand united by. knit hearts and clasp of hands. On his lips the word yet lingers — e'er the bride's re- sponse is given, Comes the dreadful shrieking demon ! — loud the frighted air is riven, With the crashing of his thunder ; — Wildest shrieks of terror rose. Thrilling every sense with horror ! — Lo ! the lurid lights disclose. Those in . agony low writhing ! — Ah ! 'tis shocking to behold The warm life-blood slowly ebbing from those loving hearts and bold. As grim death with icy fingers touches lips once full of mirth. And the glazing eye-light lingers for a last farewell of earth — List! that moan — like zephyr sighing for the perished autumn day! 'Tis the dying wail of Ethel, who among the bleeding lay! l22 SONGS OF THE SOUTHWEST. " Oh! thou shalt not perish, Ethel ! " and her form the warrior raised ; Then upon the anguished features, long and earnestly he gazed : — "Oh! my darling! — thou art yet mine! — oh! the icy hand of death ! Breathe, oh! breathe the word, my seraph, e'er thou draw thy latest breath." Then unclosed the eye-lids softly, and the pale lips murmured " Yes," — While the bridegroom bending, o'er her, gave the parting bridal kiss; For the life-blood fast is ebbing — now he feels the hand grow cold ; And she sleeps in death reposing, while his arms her form enfold. On the morrow, fierce contending, Ambrose fell beside the wave. And the maidens wove their chaplets over his and Ethel's grave ; WTiere magnolias shed sweet fragrance and the weeping willows grow, When peace smiled upon the city, and the sullen foe I withdrew. CHARGE OF THE ICONOCLAST. CHARGE OF THE ICONOCLAST. AN ALLEGORY. IjriS charger gleams white as the wild albatros, Fleet as the far meteor darting across, Caparisoned for the fierce fray; Bedecked with bright stars, like the belt of Orion; And his charge is resistless as that of the lion. When he springs through the night on the prey. Like the foam of the ocean caught up from the seas, The mane of the steed floats afar on the breeze From a neck arching grandly and proud ; His nostril, spread wide, snuffs the air from afar, Alert for the terrible opening of war, And his voice like the thunder is loud ! 126 SONGS OF THE SOUTHWEST. The warrior who guides wears a countenance firm, Each movement displaying his grandeur of form, In double-mailed garments of light. But his look is benign, and his face is so fair, Though the proud power of triumph looks forth in his air, Neath locks like the sable of night. A giant's huge sledge at his saddle bow swings ; The broad shield is of gold, that behind him he slings, In shape like the disk of the moon ; While the rider and steed are illumined all o'er. With a radiance that shines many leagues on before, And behind with the brightness of noon. Either hand, like a wall, rises blackness of night, Save where it is pierced by that vision of light, As fleet as the speed of the blast ! — Away ! and away ! — with a dart, and a flash ! — He heeds not the roar of the torrent's loud crash, As river and mountain are past. On ! onward he speeds ! — If a mortal were nigh, His spirit would quail neath the flame in that eye, As a city's proud spires rise in view! 'Tis the land of the East ! where the radiant dome CHARGE OF THE ICONOCLAST. 127 Gives to myriads of priests a luxuriant home, Whose tjthings augmented still grow. The Iconoclast comes, heeding never their cry. As the people fall prostrate, but, passing them by, The temple's proud portal he gains. How he hurls the huge sledge with a ponderous power ! How the pagoda quakes from firm basement to tower, By the force of fierce shocks it sustains ! Bright legions appear at the sound of that blow ! Striving on till the temple's proud grandeur lay low — Transformed in an instant from light ! Then, the steed with his rider spring fleet through the air, IsTor an instant delay, while the myriads throng there, And the multitude scattered in flight. From the ruins arose, where the temple had stood, A structure full vast; and its cognomen, " GOOD ", Was graven in adamant stone. Then a rostrum arose where the idol had been, And an Angel of Light taught the people therein Of ^N'ature's God reigning alone. 128 SONGS OF THE SOUTHWEST. The foe to false deities o'er the plain sped, By flaming volcano and battle field red, Where the vintage rich treasures bestowed; The huge hammer hurtled 'gainst many a shrine, Where a kingdom was crushed in the land of the vine, And despots saw tyranny bowed. Yet, the stern rider heard not the murmurs that came- Devastation that swept with the torch's fierce flame — As he smote Superstition's high places; For, the Legions of Light ever came at his call, As he caused the proud structures of Error to Fall, Before the grim priests' pallid faces. The opposing Pope rose ! — quickly fled in affright ! As his minions grew blind in the glare of the light ! While crashed their cathedral's proud altar. As prone in the dust lay the Virgin and shrine, Unheeded the bauble's auriferous shine By the firm and unfaltering assaulter. That vast structure was found in Italia's fair clime. Whose grandeur, far-reaching, high towered sublime Above Superstition's proud dome. Then the architrave fell by great Angelo laid, CHARGE OF THE ICONOCLAST. 129 And the beautiful altar-piece, gorgeous arrayed, At the crash of St. Peter's at Eome ! But the Gods of the nations came not to oppose The image-destroyer, nor yet the pale foes Of Darkness, Superstition and Error ; Whose toils are unceasing, who never give o'er Till the foundations fall of the temples of yore, And joy takes the place of grim terror. IS'o structure so firm but comes down at a blow, Spread wide on the plain, in crushed ruins below. When the pale rider smites with his sledge. In the land of inquisitors monuments fall, And delusions of spirit no longer appall, — Soul-freedom redeemeth the age ! All realms of the earth the pale charger speeds through, And still her proud pinnacles sink from the view III the lands by the farthest seas ! That vast people flourishing — know as " The Free," — Whose gods are ten thousand — who bow low the knee — Are awaked from their lethargic ease. 130 SONGS OF THE SOUTHWEST. For, the Legions of Light are abroad in that land Where smites unrelenting the merciles hand, And the people give heed to their preaching ; Free rostrums arise where the images were, O'er which the fair monuments splendid appear. Whose spires through the skies are far-reaching. Men lighted huge fires with vast volumes of flame — Hard pressed by the whirlwind the blinding smoke came, Far round in red fierceness they rolled! And forests were felled to oppose the swift course Of the rider who guided the mystic white horse, Whom barrier never controlled ; Whose course is unchecked though the earthquake is nigh, And no idol he spares, though men's dogmas may die, Neither stays for refreshment nor rest; For, his charger exists on the vapors w^hich rise From the gardens of earth where the white lilly dies. To obey the angelic behest. ^N'ow the breaker of images speedeth away Fulfilling his mission ; — rides far to obey The myriads of ministering immortals ; CHARGE OF THE ICONOCLAST. 131 And, although the earthquake, though vain man doth oppose. Though the phalanx impregnable seemeth of foes, They appear through the wide-open portals. MISCELLANEOUS. This descriptive jpoem forms the prelude to a tale inverse, erditled " The Maid of the Mississippi,^ soon to be published by the same author. The poems to Tennyson and Bryant, which immediately follow, are selections from "^ Tibute to the Poets," which will appear complete, in the same volume with the above men- tioned tale. See fly leaf at the end of this volume. NIGHT SCENE ON THE MISSISSIPPI nPHE mystic moon's celestial sphere Rides on the broad expanse of wave, Twixt mural mountains, frowning drear Above the wandering Spaniard's grtive ; On whose broad breast, like Maldive barque, Eeflected floats each starry spark. Monarch of waters ! wild and wide ! Dark, gloomy, depths of turbid tide ! Slow rolling on, — an endless sea. Majestic, deep, perpetually. Oh! wondrous tide of power, that flows To tropic seas from Arctic snows ! Grim giants drive a deep-mouthed roar From slimy depths of yawning caves. Wave-washed within, well worn with waves. Dark in the dim receeding shore. 136 SONGS OF THE SOUTHWEST. The sluggish trihutary's flow From yonder shadowy defile Sweeps slowly round the sedgy isle ; Swirling in shoals of crested snow, Through prostrate, grasping arms of grey ; In bayou, marsh, and lagoon shallow. Uncouth and grim in moon-light yellow, The alligator waits his prey. The myriad flocks at twilight glow That lined the sands like drifting snow,- The fisher-fowl have sought the fen. That all day gleaned a livelihood From tender bulb and finny brood, — Diedipper, coot, and pelican. Flow on ! grand flood ! whose wealth creates From forests drear, fair, fruitful states ; Whose blooming vales e'erwhile were rife With unrelenting civic strife. Nor always borne, benignly mild By slumb'ring shores with plenty blest. Like tyrant with his wrath at rest, — Destruction waits thy waters wild ! NIGHT SCENE ON THE MISSISSIPPI. 137 Mad in thy myriad miles of might, The darkly dreadful surges pour A vasty deep o'er either shore, Above the dyke's impotent height. Man may not stay thy ruthless sway; — Roaring in wrath through wide crevasse. The raging, surging waters pass, "Whose force no power on earth shall stay ! Mid crashing trunks in swirling sweep, The pale, grief-stricken planter yields His fair plantation's feathery fields To thy destruction, boundless deep ! Light-gliding birch canoes have flown Where thy far northern w.aters lone, Unstained by red Missouri's hue. Sheeted in clearest glassy blue. Lock arms with wild Saskatchawan. But now the barques that cleave thy crest A nation's wealth bear o'er thy breast. Ages have passed; the wigwam stood Where cities tower along thy flood. And pour vast treasures toward that goal Where warm the Mexic waters roll. 138 SONGS OF THE SOUTHWEST. Along thy wave reach radiant beams Which night's long loneliness have riven ; Glanced by the quiet queen of heaven, Who rules our period of dreams. She casts her diamonds down to dance Amid the transitory band, Like frolic elves from fairy land. Over the river's broad expanse. On such a night the starry wave Became De Soto's silent grave. He dared the ocean for this tomb ; Oh ! sombre stream ! whose name he gave, ! In many mighty marches came. iS'ot spectres of the dismal swamp, iN'or prowling Indian's deadly hate, Nor panther howling round his camp Revoked his desolating fate, While threading wild or fording wave, Till death took the intrepid brave. The torch on high was flaming red. While priest with flaming censer led Te Deum's solemn anthem deep Above the Spaniard's dreamless sleep; NIGHT SCENE ON THE MISSISSIPPI. 139 In Castile's banner sadly wound, With sword agrasp, by helmet crowned. Midway the dark sepulchral stream They lowered the hero from their barque ; Above him closed the waters dark ; Down deep the lifeless burthen fell; Came from the shore the panther's scream, O'er rippling wave and lonely dell. Then slowly veered the funeral barque Toward the still shore-line, dim and dark — Rowed in sad silence, lest the foe His death and burial place should know. TENNYSON, f^ RE AT Tennyson ! from Fame's high mountain brow, Canst hear my shell, so far off, faint and low. That tribute sends o'er plain and ocean's flow ? The charm that plays along thy faultless line, No mortal pen hath cunning to define ; Whose clust'ring gems in rare effulgence shine Like diamonds pure from some prolific mine. Through realms of beauty hath thy spirit stray'd, Whose bloom profusive o'er thy verse is laid; As when the maidens strew the floral shower At hero's triumph in his glory's hour. Thy jewel lamp with glories of the day, Illumines time with meteoric ray. Astounded critics scan thy rythmic page, — Thy matchless might bears thee beyond their rage ! What power is thine to charm this ail-wise age ? 142 SONGS OF THE SOUTHWEST. Oh, lovely Maude! Oh, dreams of Locksley Hall! Poor Enoch Arden ! Princess ! Idyls all ! Sad in Memorium! Golden Festival! — The drama calls thee ! — proud Queen Mary stands, Cold, cruel, courtly — pale, with crimson hands, While groaning martyrs burn through British lands : Doomed Harold wars with Gorman William's host, Till crown and kingdom, hope and life are lost. Behold ! the Muse holds forth as thine award, The mantle meet of Avon's deathless bard ! BRYANT. TLLUSTRIOTJS Bryant! patriarchal barcl ! Rejoicing nature varied language heard When thy pure harp amid her solitudes, Chanted the glories of her changeful moods; Hymning thy praise, tuned to the sighing bough, Where scented air of meadows cools thy brow ; Vast prospects wake thy contemplative mood, And bid thej^Dicture lakelet, stream and wood; The humming-bird, that sports amid the spray; The water-fowl, that cleaves the airy way; The green bank, dinted by the timid deer; The wolf that laps, the growling slow-paced bear. 'No fierce convulsions jar thy life's smooth flow, J^or penury brings scenes of want and woe. Though oft rare genius hath its ray obscured, Inlattic dim, by poverty immured, 144 SONGS OF THE SOUTHWEST. Fair fortune o'er thee spread a lavish hand, Though thy pure life wealth's luxury disdain'd. Fame's proud exaltings worked no change in thee, Sage of a nation's sweetest minstrelsy ! Dear to the children of thy native land, Linked with her loveliest scenes thy name shall stand. UNREST. VTE evening winds that gently blow, And soft on balmy pinions bear, Haste ye to breathe where flow'rets grow. To feast amid their fragrance rare ? Ye lately mourned for they who died. Your sweet companions of the plain — Would ye they might for aye abide ? Alas ! the chilling blasts have slain. Why do ye sigh, oh ! gentle winds ! While floating o'er the brightest scenes ?- " The gayest grot bleak sorrow finds,' Twixt hope and joy grief intervenes." Soft, unseen mourners, why should ye Seem sorrowing o'er my absent joys ? And with me murmur, "Woe is me!" Sighing that care man's peace destroys ? 146 SONGS OF THE SOUTHWEST. While whispering o'er this vernal sphere, Find je no spot that ever shines ? Where naught is dampt by brin}' tear, Where the glad bosom ne'er repines ? Have ye ne'er sought those joyous bowers, Where love reclines that poets sing? Where sylphs delight the honied hours. And naught may hush the lute's light string ? Where ne'er beside the banquet board, O'er his divan the monarch sees, By brittle hair, the gleaming sword Suspended o'er his couch of ease ? What do I hear ? — an answerino: si^rh, Eesponsive to my query bold. Oh ! listen to the sad reply : — "Peace ne'er abode with mortal mould." GEESE. f~\F all the domestic fowls fit for man's use, For down or for roasting, the best is the goose; And although the roast turkey, a dish of renown. At Christmas much talked of in country and town, May be savory, indeed, yet were we to compare The goose with the turkey, we could but declare That the preference, indeed, to the former were due. To be ever chosen by epicure true. — Prepared by the gar con for table 'd hote, As a dish for excelling the fillagreed shoat. Have the dressing with spices appropriately mix'd, And the fowl on the salver attactively fix'd — Just browned to a crisp, while the fragrant sauce flows, Kicely seasoned, betwixt the potatoes in rows; Then glorious, indeed, are the odors which rise. E'en tempting the gods from their feast in the skies. 148 SONGS OF THE SOUTHWEST. Artistically carve now, with consummate art, To each guest expectant dispose of a part; Send orders for desert, and serve on the wine — Oh ! who could the joys of such feasting resign ? ^ We are of the earth earthy, and appetite craves The good things of life; yet, when Gluttony's slaves Bow low to her mandates, with scarcely a douht. They are held on the rack by Dyspepsia and Gout. Who has not at evening reposed with his head On light, downy pillow while weariness fled ? But who finds for .pity a place in his mind, • Or feels for the woes or the goose and its kind ? For, oh ! it is doleful while plucking the geese. And rending the delicate, snowy-white fleece. To list to the heart-rending clamor they raise. But the pityless picker her hand never stays; For, a daughter will soon to the altar be led. And the matron, of course, must present her a bed! Then, soft as the thistle down wafted on high. Is the couch whereon rosy young beauty shall lie. When the geese are plucked nakedly ragged and lean, liealizeing that they are unfit to be seen Divest of their plumage — dejected and drooping, How touching the scene is ? as o'er the lawn trooping, GEESE. 149 And striving to hide from the eye their disgrace, They seek in the woodland a safe hiding place? Instinctively shrinking from view in their pain, Till nature symmetrically clothes them again. Then, how graceful the geese ! as in squadrons they sail O'er the clear, glassy lake in their plumage so pale; Where, steering and veering, their feathers they lave, And dive in their frolics beneath the bright wave. When Rome was at war with a neighboring state, The foe w^ere in ambuscade lying in wait ; And seeking by stratagem, thus to beguile The Romans to march through a narrow defile ; Then a flock of geese passed where the enemy lay, Loud clamoring with fright in a terrible way; So the legions were warned, when they would have passed in. And the foe were disgusted, and left in chagrin. Thus Rome was preserved by the gabbling of geese. And their flocks were protected and 'lowed to increase. By-the-way, of the goose many species are known, And the rivers out west by wild flocks are o'erflown — ITor always distinguished by feathers alone ; For, a goose may wear broad-cloth, fine boots, and a hat. Sport a cane, a cigar, moustache and all that — 150 SONGS OF THE SOUTHWEST. Howbeit, tliis species dishonors the bird, Although of the fowl they may claim to be lord ; — And noted for thinking their crests higher by far, Than, truthfully speaking, they actually are ; For, a goose upon passing an entrance will nod. Though the opening above may extend a full rod. A. goose by the tailor is oft in request. By means of which seam and lappel are impressed; When tooth-picks are needed, the biped again Appears as a valued assistant to men ; With the quill of the goose, e'er usurped by the steel, The author his thoughts to the world would reveal ; And well mi^ht the ^vriter of that day concede That the plume of this bird was a blessing, indeed. Of this biped a story is wont to be told With an excellent moral, although it be old; To the doings of men it will aptly apply. And a hint of such value should never go by. There dwelt an old woman — I cannot tell where — And a goose she possessed with this attribute rare; For, instead of producing, to nature so true. Such eggs as 'tis kno^vn that all other geese do. To believe in the truth of the story as told, GEESE. 151 You must think that the eggs of this bird were of gold ! The ancients had said, 'twas a gift from the gods ! Who cares how she got it ? — a fig for the odds ! The lugubrious owner, by valuable lays, Was quickly enabled 'bove neighbors to raise ; But, as weak human nature is seldom, if ever, Satisfied with enough, so she now must endeavor To possess all the gold of the wonderful goose, Though for it she found no immediate use ; 'Twas avarice that caused her to seek as she did. And to carve for the eggs where she thought they were hid. She laid open the goose with a horn-handled knife, Which, as naturally followed, deprived it of life ; Then who can imagine her grief and surprise. When never an egg met the old woman's eyes ! But, alas ! for the fowl which had brought her such gain. With covetous hand she had ruthlessly slain ; Then the old woman's fortunes grew rapidly worse, Till poverty came with a terrible curse. Thus, the moral is very explicitly shown : — We are wise to let well enouo-h ever alone. THE HAUNTED SOUL. VT'ES, 'tis past ! — those ties are severed, Which have held thine image near;- Unforgotten ! heartstrings quivered O'er remembrances so dear ! Years those tender ties have bound me, But the cords are snapt for aye, And when lovely forms surround me, Shall I think on thee away ? I remember how I met thee In my youth's too balmy spring ; — How I've striven to forget thee. While my heart was withering ! !N'ow those sunny days are over; — Happy dreams ! too sweet to last ! 154 SONGS OF THE SOUTHWEST. And their mem'ries deep I cover, Sleeping with the buried past. I have feasted on remembrance, And my soul has queried then, If thy form of beauty's semblance I should ever clasp again ? — Let his store of gold controll thee ! Better far than love or grace; 'Tis the thought that shall console me ;- Perish heart that holds it base ! Yet, I find no voice to censure ; !N'ow my heart grows never chill ; — What were I, that I should venture To a place that gold should fill ! Aye ! though Fortune smile upon thee. Ostentation be thine own. All the sweets of love will shun thee — Gold hath taken wings and flown ! Yes! I know thy love is fickle, And thy smiles are cheaply bought. THE HAUNTED SOUL. 155 ^ow, perchance, thou'lt reck but little — Time and anguish waken thought. Though thy fond looks greet another, Still his blissful dream is short ; Though the hands be clasped together, Love alone secures the heart. Cold indifference breeds dissention ; Then the yawning gulf appears. Still unbridged by good intention ; — Oh ! the floods of scalding tears ! He may greet thee fondly, kindly, Dreaming of his treasure won ; Thou wilt smile upon him blandly. When thy soul shall seek to shun. And the bitter words, reproving. Lightly slumbering, soon shall wake ; Then the cold heart, still unloving. In its lonely tomb shall ache. When the silent tear shall wander O'er that cheek once beauty's throne, 156 SONGS OF THE SOUTHWEST. Then thou may'st in silence ponder, O'er the love forever flown. Gaul hath usurped all life's sweetness ; Where 'twas brightest, gloom appears; Once, the moment's wings had fleetness ; ISTow, how wearily drag the years ? All the hopes of life are blasted ; — How their ghosts wail on the blast ! Joys which might through time have lasted, Down Oblivion's waters past. But my soul awakes from dreaming O'er mutations brought by time ; — Wide's the world, with beauty teeming, Calling loud to deeds sublime ! THE FESTIVAL FILLS ME WITH SADNESS. 'T^HE festival fills me with sadness, Though light be the strains that I hear; Sweet music which woke me to gladness, ]S"ow moistens mine eye with a tear. Within the gay circle I'm lonely, Though beauty's fond smiles I may see ; I am moved with one thought of thee only ! Oh! think'st thou, sweet Florence, of me ? From every loved spot I am staying, Which we by our wanderings endeared ; Suppressing the deep sigh betraying. The heart that a sorrow has seared. 158 SONGS OF THE SOUTHWEST. Oh ! is there no semblance of feeling Thy bosom may cherish e'en yet ? A thought that thine heart is concealing? A something akin to regret? False ! false to the bosom that cherished Thy beautiful image in vain ! — The heart that for thee would have perished, Oh ! was it thy pleasure to pain ? Where beauty and youth are assembling, I drive retrospection away; For, why should I dream that dissembling Dwells with such fair creatures as they? Yet, he whom that sunny glance blesses. May feel his fond cheek to grow pale; And learn that soft looks and caresses May all in their tenderness fail. Though her beautiful cheek be as roses, Her brow than the lily more fair, In that jeweled bosom reposes, Deceipts and a treacherous snare. THE SOUL'S MIRROR, pAIR woman's heart sustains within A voice to prophesy akin ; A wail of warning, vaguely sent; More clear her far-divinino; eye Than subtlest man's philosophy. Mysterious presentiment! That would the Avay for woe prepare, Or life's rude shocks could illy bear Her gentler nature, frail as fair. The heart may close its portals all; Still glares that visage o'er the wall, Where sits the scowl of sullen fate That ceaseless clamors at the gate. *From " The Maid of the Mississippi," — a tale in verse, soon to be issued by the same author. 160 SONGS OF THE SOUTHWEST. Oh ! there is naught the heart can melt Like beauty troubled ; naught relieving Her poignant pangs of anguish felt — More lovely in her silent grieving ; When sculptured lips no word essay To tell what hides their smile away ; Like shadow stealing o'er the flower, The lingering shade of gentlest shower ; Intensyfying every grace Exquisite on the lovely face ; Where soul seems mounting to those eyes Li whose depths nameless magic lies. As white frost fades before the gleam Of early morn's approaching beam, Speeds that cold barrier, ever wound So closely stranger hearts around ; For, that strange spell is o'er us thrown That binds the soul beside its own ; Li sublimated essence shrined, Two spirits blending as one mind; Then thoughts well up within the breast That seem to inward ears addressed ; Their soft import conveyed to each Without the form of outward speech ; THE soul's mirror. • 161 Should murmuring lips low tones diffuse, Let not the ear an accent loose. Earth brings from heaven its chiefest charm, To beautify the fautless form, Whose lines shall be immortal; — never Is rosy-tinted beauty lost ; Returning there to live forever. Beyond time's treacherous ocean tost; Unmared by sorrow, gloom or care. To beam perpetually there. TO H o ,H ! woulcVst thou ask a line of me To breathe my faithful heart's devotion ? Dear one ! my life is lived for thee ; Thy smile or tear shades each emotion. I saw thy face — changed grew the world ! I dreamed not of the pending danger; Misfortune's cruel darts were hurled, And peace was to my soul a stranger. Oh ! then I only lived to sigh ; My hopes and joys all fled together; Each pleasure passed unheeded by, And clouds of gloom hung low to smother. Oh ! thou may never, never doubt. This heart, which nought hath power of changing^; 164 SONGS OF THE SOUTHWEST. Still loving, constant, while about. The fires of sullen fate are rao:in ^g- I loved thee for thy woman's soul And won the fond, the precious treasure ; Resigning to thy light control Devotion nought can ever measure. I knew that thou wert pure and fair ; Ideal of my heart resembling: — My Muse lacks language to declare What made me thine without dissembling. And it shall ever be my part, To strive for what to thee is pleasing ; To know no sorrow sears thine heart. To make thine happiness unceasing. Each earthly grief shall loose its sting When I may see my Hattie smiling; For thou, dear one, the balm may bring The sadest hour of grief beguiling. OH GENTLY BLOW, YE AUTUMN GALES. A SONQ. /^H! gently blow the autumn gales, Where flowrets bloom the rarest Of maids that roam Miami's vales, My Fanny was the fairest. Her hair in many a golden band. O'er cheeks as roses blooming. Was braided by her gentle hand. The lilry's hue assuming. 166 SONGS OF THE SOUTHWEST. Beside Miami's waters bright, That at our feet were flowing, We gazed upon the ripples light, And felt the breezes blowino:. Oh ! tender were the words we said, Beside that loveh^ river ; Although her sunny smiles are fled, My Fanny lives forever. REMORSE. T 1 rHO can conceive so dire a hell As rages in the human breast, For her entombed who loved thee well, Whose presence like an Angel's blessed ? Whose wounded soul too deeply felt The blow thy deed of madness dealt ? Neglect, thy madly reckless course, Drove daggers home with deadly force ; Then, of thy flower of beauty shorn, Thou'rt left in solitude to mourn. Remorseful pangs, like lava, roll Their seething billows o'er the soul ; And in their track rush frantic there. Pale horror, anguish, and despair. Remorse ! thou hast a fearful sting ! 168 SONGS OF TH^ SOUTHWEST. Reason may no consoling bring To this life woe, so withering. Hope blighting as the upas shade That shadows Knifon's tainted glade Alas ! from thee is no return ; Still thine unslunib'ring fires burn, And^he seared heart forever cries, Stung^barbed scorpions till she dies. YOUR SISTER, A XTHO found you when young, Where the peaches were hung From a pin in the wall of the kitchen ? And when you ne'er thought In the theft to be caught, Your labor repaid with a switchin' ? Your sister. When the tea-table smoked. And when you became choked, Who begun 'twixt your shoulders a-pounding? And stopped all your cries " For cakes and for pies. By the doctrines of hygiene expounding ? Your sister. While speeding away, The inverted sleigh 170 SONGS OF THE SOUTHWEST. With the shafts and the timbers went crashins:: Who was it who sat On your new beaver hat As into the snow you went dashing ? Your sister. Who was it you led On the log o'er the bed Of the stream which below you went dashing ? Who sliped from your hold, And after you rolled Into the cold stream with a splashing ? Your sister. And who was the lass, When you sat in the class, Kept your mind from its task ever breaking ? And drawing your looks Far away from your books, Would keep your poor heart ever acheing ? Somebody else's sister ! SHE LIVES AGAIN, /^H ! dost thou know a power on high With every grace has blessed thee ? Then marvel not, sweet maid, that I A wanderer, addressed thee. Thou hast the faultless form of one, "Whose memory I cherish ; Whose fleeting day too soon was done, And she, alas ! must perish. For, Oh ! she faded, — I was left In this false w^orld, so lonely ; I roam afar, because bereft Of her I lived for only. Her spirit shone with every grace. Sweet purity could render; 172 SONGS OF THE SOUTHWEST. !N'one e'er might look upon her face Nor feel his soul grow tender. And when thy father's brilliant hall On that bright eve I entered, When hearkened all to pleasure's call, My gaze on thee was centred. I saw upon thy features play The smile that beamed so sweetly ; So loved by me in that bright day That passed away too fleetly. Thy sparkling eye, thy raven hair, Alike were her possession ; The rosy lips, and brow so fair. And thine the same expression. And when my glance dwelt on thee then, I felt my heart grow lighter ; It seemed she was on earth again. And I, once more, beside her. EARLHAM COLLEGE GAMES. CHALL Earlham's clay remain unsung, And find no voice to sing its praise ? For love and war loud harps have rung ; Bards to the bowl pour deathless lays ! One faithful harp shall praise thy games ; One bard shall sing with gr^atful heart! rrWm^ Muse shall ne'er reject thy claims, Till memory and youth depart! Olympic games the Grecians had, And widely far was spread their fame ; In ancient day his heart was glad Whose prowess won the festive game. Vain ^ero played at chariot race, With heroes strove the prize to gain ; 174 SONGS OF THE SOUTHWEST. And from their thrones, in pride of place, Kings cheered the coursers o'er the plain. Would we renounce our gladsome play For one that early Greece possessed ? When gods and games have passed away — On classic page alone exist ? How fondl}^ dear the cherished hour Which we in field-sport pleasures spent? When lifers deep shadows round us lower To he with storm and tempest blent? Ah ! well we loved the lively game. The wild excitement of the play ! Which hade to scorn the slothful name, And fieetly speed the hall away ! 'Mid intervals from toil apart. When loosed from Locke, from Virgil free, What rapture thrilled each ^^outhful heart! How rans: the air with frolic 2:1 ee ! The chieftains brave arrayed their sides, With dauntless mien, — as heroes are; EARLHAM COLLEGE GAMES. 175 And when the ball so swiftly rides, Begins the surging tug of war ! As though engaged in martial strife — The contest urged with might and main — Though seeking no opponent's life, Oft lies he prostrate on the plain. And when the swiftly fleeting ball, Propelled by many a sturdy blow, Eventfully hath reached the goal. The victors' wild exultings flow ! Oh! regaljoust ! forever live. When I thy praises sing no more ! On Earlham's s^rounds benl«cnlv thrive. While life's mad maelstroms round me roar ! Earliiam College, 1864. THE AUCTIONEER, ^X rillLE passing one evening up Madison street, A flaming red flag chanced my vision to greet; And painted in letters, at least a yard long, The word I beheld there which now heads my song. A bell was kept vigorously gingling the while, The multitude passing within to beguile. As the protent word, ^' AUCTIO:^"," appeared to my sight, I read the bill over beside the gas light; While I stood there perusing the huge-lettered bill, I heard a voice yelling both loudly and shrill, " How much am I oftered ? " and, " Going at ten ! " The words w^ere repeated again and again. 178 SONGS OF THE SOUTHWEST. Curiositv prompted to enter and see What caused such a shouting — such ardour and glee. To answer his query, '' How much am I bid ? " Within 'mong the bidders I shortly was hid. On a box stood a man who in statue was small, His shadow reflected behind on the wall ; He swayed his arms wildly, straining hard at his throat, Quite freely perspiring, divest of a coat ; His round face was ruddy, his nose, too, was read, And hair the same color lay thick o'er his head. How the laugh of his hearers rang loudly and shrill At the jokes which he cracked with a hearty good will ! "How much am I oflfered? " — repeating his cry^ As he a husre rockino^-chair brandished on hio-h : — " I pid you von dollar vor dot rocking-chair ! " A provident dutchman replied to him there— ^ " Och! an' two dollars I'll bid ye for that ! " Responded the liberal Irishman, Pat. "!N'ow, going! still going! — who gives me the half?" His words became witty, and raised aloud laugh. "Still going! — and going! — the sturdy voice rang — And sold ! — as the hammer came down with a bang ! " THE AUCTIONEER. 179 The contest was ended; Pat shouldered the chair, And moved through the crowd with his prize in the air ; For the place was well peopled with boys, and with men, A few came to purchase, while others again. Came to hear the man joke, who so loudly did yell, And whose words were rolled forth with tremendous swell. " How much am I offered ? " the auctioneer cried; And the tones of his voice had the thunders defied, As he held a split rolling-pin high in the air. Menacingly flourishing over them there. " Twenty cents! " said a by-stander, blinking his eyes. As though he already had hold of the prize. The party who bid wore a tall beaver hat, Which, indeed, was quite seedy, and dinted at that. A lean-visaged customer called, " Twenty-five! " " That is a cheap rolling-pin, as I'm alive;" The auctioneer said, as he handed the pin. To the one who had bought it, with visage so thin. Quite satisfied, too, then the man did appear. For his wife had plead with him for more than a year, To purchase an article like to the same. Which he neath his arm now bore home to his dame. 180 SONGS OF THE SOUTHWEST. The next thing the auctioneer showed to the crowd, And he truly with sole-leather lungs was endowed, Was a dozen of plates; some of them were cracked; But the man well made up for that which they lacked, By the praises thick lavished upon the said plates ; And offered to sell them, though some were not mates. To the one who bid highest; and then he threw in. To make them sell better, some platters of tin ; — Then bellowed such praises with ranting and roar, As, I think I say truly, I ne'er heard before. Old shoe-brushes, breast-pins, gold lockets and rules; Together with hatchets, and all sorts of tools ; Hard-soap and dried-apples, and tables and chairs. Surcingles, trunks, tooth-picks, keen razors, dull knives; Big bread-bowls and wash-tubs, men bought for their wives. A by-stander purchased a huge, yellow watch ; Broad dialect proved him undoubtedly Scotch — Quickly paid for his treasure, passed out through the door And I'll warrant that auctioneer sold him no more ; For he thought of a truth 'twas a gold watch he had, When truly the sharper had swindled him bad. Wa^. THE AUCTIONEER. 181 It chanced the Highlander while moving up street, An honest acquaintance there happened to meet ; His good fortune disclosed to his friend's wond'ring eyes, Jamie in raptures proclaimed — " A rich prize ! " He drew from his pocket the watch which did shine As bright as the gold that is dug from the mine. — " Ten dollars is all that I gave for the same ! As tr-r-uly I say it as Jamie's my name! And almost I'd thought that the fellow had stole it, Or he ne'er so cheaply to me would have sold it." — Then the honest man found, to his sorrow, alas! That the watch would not run, and that it was — brass. TO LEONA. 'T^HE long years are fleeting, are going forever, N'o more to return with their pleasures and pains ; I ne'er can foro-et thee — how vain the endeavor? While life in this bosom its current maintains. Forget thee ! oh ! never ! — those orbs above shining, May cease to cheer earth with their radiance bright ;~ Where thou art forgotten 'tis nought but repining, For thou art the star that still lendeth me light. Thine image remain eth forever before me. As when thy companion through years that are gone ; — Oh! radiant Leona! deep sadness steals o'er me With dreams of the maiden of life's early morn. How ripened our friendship to fond adoration! This heart poured its treasures at beauty's fair shrine; 184 SONGS OF THE SOUTHWEST. I gazed on my idol with love's admiration ; — My soul with fond rapture was bound up in thine. The shadows of twilight at eve would decoy us, When moon-light was gladdening the gloom of the grove. Oh ! bliss ruled the hour! as unspeakably joyous As moon-beams light dancing on foilage above. Oh ! cruel the fortune our souls to so sever ! Dark doom hath decreed each delight to conceal ; How useless the striving ! souL grieve on forever, Subdued by the sorrow fate calls thee to feel. THE POACHERS' DEFEAT. TIN' the midst of the night, When the lightning was bright, We met at the cave in the valley; And, never delayed, By the storm dismayed, To the rendezvous boldly did rally. Bold outlaws expelled. Grim want had impelled To plunder to-night, the rich region ; And should it be found That robbers were round, "We must flee, for the foemen were legion. E'er an hour had gone past. We beheld him at last, — Our chief, we so anxiously waited ; — 186 SONGS OF THE SOUTHWEST. How vivid that flash ? And there followed a crash ! As the wrath of the storm culminated. By the cavern without, There rose a wild shout ! Could it be the dread foe were appearing? We presently knew The surmise untrue, Nor heeded the tempest's careering. Yet, again there arose From friends or from foes,. For we recked not from w^hich, such a clatter. That, fearful of harm, We sprang in alarm To ascertain what was the matter ! From the cavern's rude door. The torch flickered o'er The countenance of Erin's fair daughter; In affi'ight did she fret. As she shook oflF the wet. Like a fowl just emerging from water. THE POACnERS* DEFEAT. 187 " Hunt for Mikey," she said, " I'm afraid he is dead ! " " Shure, his driving was nothing to brag on! He has strayed from the road, " An ' mesilf has been throw'd " On the horses' heels out of the wagon! " By the light of the lamp. Saturated with damp, "We beheld the lost traveler benighted; Yet, we found him not killed, Though potatoes were spilled. And his lady was grieviously 'frighted. *' Och ! Mikey, me dear ! "Where's the keg wid the beer ? " Were the first words by Bridget there spoken ; Whose feminine voice Began to rejoice, When none of Mike's bones were found broken. They were guided again From the dangerous plain. To the road, where they thanked us full gladly. 188 SONGS OF THE SOUTHWEST. As the night did prevail, "We secured all the ale, Which had treated poor Mikey so badly ! Those benevolent men, My companions, did then. Unheeding the words of my warning, Deeply drink of the draught; And the ale which they quaffed, O'ercame them with slumber till morning And the raid which was planned By our valliant band. That carousal at midnight defeated ; For the foe ascertained, The marauders remained. And, hotly persued, we retreated ! TO MISS A * * * * B * * * TI^AIR-haired and graceful ! — Avho can view Thy soft step by the foot-light fall, Pressed lightly as the silver dew, But must some fairy sceue recall ? The look that beams from thy sweet face, The sparkle dancing in thine eye. That fautless form of moulded grace. The thousand charms that round thee lie !- Oh ! mistress of celestial chimes! There is a power vouchsafed to thee, That bids thee bear through earthly climes Divinest strains of rhapsody. For, from thy soft-toned silvery bells, Such notes are borne as angels hear ! 190 SONGS OF THE SOUTHWEST. And when their voice in sweetness swells, What rapture thrills the listening ear? In harmony thine earliest thought Was cradled ; while thine infant hand To weave the tuneful arts was taught Which spell-bound thousands may command! And, oh ! what varied scene has been This changeful life to such as thou, Who, with its lights, dark gloom has seen ? — Brin-ht is the beam around thee now. o True srenius brinors thee fame, sweet maid ! A people know thy power to charm ; With all thy matchless skill displayed. What heart but must grow fond and warm ? [N'ever in former years has come So fair a charmer, skilled to bring Sach rare celestial music from The courts whose ehimefs the seraphs ring. When those sweet bells, with tuneful tongue. Respond in pleasing gleeful notes. While thy fair lingers dance among The chimes' with the silver throats; A TO MISS A**** 3**** *^ 191 Or when the horn would sound for thee- Its fan- joung mistress — who so well Can wake its voice of melody, Delight lives in the magic spell ! The Maid of the Mississippi, A POETICAL ROMANCE OF THE RIVER, BY THEODORE F. PRICE, Is now ready for the press, and will soon be issued in ele;;ant style, and beautiful binding: a companion volume to ISo^iCS of the Southwest* What Bayard Taylor, the celebrated traveler, author and poet says of it: The author has just shown me the manuscript of "The Maid of the Mississippi," a really beautirul poetical tale ; I diicover it to be highly maritorious. A vein of originality prevades it, and it cjntains some new and striking poetical features. The action is highly dramatic. There are four leading characters, strongly drawn; and the interest grows till the plot culminates. He informs me that he is in search of a publisher. I tru^t he will be successful, a3 there exists no work of like character. Tremoxt House, Chicago, 1875. Bexj. r. Taylor, author of "Songs of Yesterday," "Sheaves of Rhyme," Etc., eays: "There is very decided dramatic and descriptive power in "The Maid of the Missis- sippi," and the interest is admirably sustained. It ought to win the authorgolden opinions, and, if suitably produced, undoubtedly will." Web. Wilder, author of "The Annals of Kansas," in Leavenworth, (Kas.,) Times: "We have had the pleasure of reading the manuscript of a poem entitled "The 31aid OF THE Mississippi," by Theodore F. Price, and we have found every page sparkling with the unmistakable marks of the highest genius. The plot is simple, but not so simple as Alexander Smith's " Life Bream," so widely known in this country and Europe a few years a-'-o. There is first a fine poetical description of our great river so dear to us of the West; and then we are taken on bjard a Mississippi steam jr, a place hitherto un visited by the poetic Muse, and events of one night are made to pass before our eyes with startling rapid- ity. Those who have spent a night upon the river, (and who in the West has not?) will readily acc.ird to Mr. Price descriptive powers almjst unequalled, as well as a wonderfully fine imagination, and taste of no common ordar. His characters stand out in bold relief, and preserve their characteristics distinct throughout the action of the whole story. His style resembles that of Shelly somewhat, although his poetry conveys a stronger human interest, characterized by remarkable vigor. *SoxGS OF THE SOUTHWEST will be forwarded on receipt of One BoUar. Address, THEOBORE F. PRICE, Wichita, Kansas.