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LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 
 
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 DOTTED STATES OF AMERICA. 
 
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 f Echoes of Childhood. I 
 
 Old Friends in New Costumes. 
 
 /'"cr f/ie Risen and the Rising Generation. 
 
 BY 
 
 L. A. GOBRIGHT, 
 
 Author of "Recollections of Men and Things at Washington," Etc. 
 
 " Let us now 
 With graver air our serious themes pursue, 
 And yet preserve our moral full in \\ft^."— Francis. 
 
 %\\ j(IIusfr.itidits. 
 
 VVSS^ 
 
 PITIL.ADELPHIA: ^^Of WASH»J^^^^ 
 CLAXTON, REMSEN & HAFFELFI^nit; 
 
 624, 626 & 628 Market Street. 
 
 1879. ^^) 
 
 i 
 
^^ 
 
 I 
 
 -^^^i^^^TkA 
 
 
 
 Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1878. by 
 L. A. GOBRIGHT, 
 
 in the Office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington. 
 
 ELECTROTYPEU BY J. PAGAN & SON, PHILADELPHIA. 
 
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 i 
 
 '^ti^^^-. 
 
 :,»sft^^ 
 
-"^8^; 
 
 ^(!is ^Ot\ 
 
 Is Inscribed to His Little Family 
 MRS. LOU. E. McFALLS, 
 
 HIS DAUGHTER, 
 AND HIS GRANDCHILDREN, 
 
 MARY LAWRENCE 
 
 AND 
 
 THADDEUS BRUCE McFALLS; 
 
 AND ALSO TO 
 
 MRS. ELIZABETH THOMPSON — 
 
 A GENEROUS LADY, ALWAYS ENGAGED IN GOOD WORKS TO 
 BE>EFIT MANKIND — 
 
 BY 
 
 THE AUTHOR. 
 
 i 
 
 7 
 
->#*fia-' 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Introduction v 
 
 Invocation viii 
 
 Original Story of Jack and Jill ix 
 
 Preface x 
 
 Jack and Jill; their Domestic Life 13 
 
 The Reign of Hearts 28 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Spratt 36 
 
 Little Miss Muffit and the Spider 43 
 
 The Old Woman Under the Hill 47 
 
 Little Polly Flinders 50 
 
 The Lancashire Boy 54 
 
 Domestic Contention 57 
 
 The Three Wise Men of Gotham 59 
 
 Music for the Million 65 
 
 The Little Boy and the Owl 71 
 
 The Equestrienne of Banbury Cross 74 
 
 The Dyspepsia Cure 78 
 
 Courtship — Love's Argument 82 
 
 The Wise-Foolish Man 85 
 
 Little Jack Horner ^j 
 
 Joe, the Crow-Killer 89 
 
 The Cat and the Fiddle 91 
 
 :,?!^^^ 
 
>^i^^^ 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 AS children, we have all hstened to Mother Goose's Melodies. 
 Their repetition now recalls many happy hours. We then lived 
 in a world of our own. What occurred to us will continue to 
 happen to others. These "jingles," as they have been called, will 
 never cease to delight. The nearer we return to youth, the nearer we 
 reapproach a healthier moral atmosphere than surrounds us in our adult 
 condition. Children, though impulsive, are seldom, if ever, deceitful. 
 They are not included in the exclamation : 
 
 " Oh ! what a tangled web we weave 
 When first we practise to deceive." 
 
 Peter Parley says : " By a beautiful alchemy of the heart, the clouds 
 of early life appear afterward to be only accessories to the universal 
 springtide of pleasure. In early life all nature is poetry. Childhood 
 and youth are indeed one continuous poem. In most cases this ecstasy 
 of emotion and conception passes away without our special notice. A 
 large portion of it dies out from the memory, but pages are written upon 
 the heart in lines of light and power that cannot be effaced. These 
 become woven into the texture of the soul, and give character to it for 
 time, perchance for eternity. The whole fountain of the mind, hke some 
 mineral spring reaching to the interior elements of the earth, is imbued 
 with ingredients which make its current sweet or bitter forever." 
 
 Such men as Thackeray and W^ashington Irving did not regard 
 stories for the nursery as beneath their " distinguished consideration." 
 Thackeray says : " A hterary man of the humoristic turn is pretty sure 
 to be of a philosophic nature, to have a great sensibility, to be early 
 moved to pain or pleasure, keenly to appreciate the varieties of temper 
 
 ,?.^ssi 
 
INTRODUCTION. 
 
 of people round about him, and sympathize in their laughter, love, 
 amusement, tears. Such a man is philosophic, man-loving by nature, 
 as another is irascible, or red-haired, or six feet high. Popular fun is 
 always kind. It is the champion of the humble against the great. In 
 all popular parables, it is little Jack that conquers, and the Giant that 
 topples down. I think that our popular authors are rather hard upon 
 the great folks. Well, well, their lordships have all the money, and 
 can afford to be laughed at." 
 
 Washington Irving, in his "Life of Oliver Goldsmith," says: "The 
 world is probably not aware of the ingenuity, humor, good sense, and 
 sly satire contained in many of the English nursery tales. They have 
 evidently been the sportive productions of able writers, who would not 
 trust their names to productions that might be considered beneath their 
 dignity. The ponderous works on which they relied for immortality 
 have perhaps sunk into oblivion, and carried their names down with 
 them, while their unacknowledged offspring. Jack the Giant-killer, Giles 
 Gingerbread, and Tom Thumb, flourish in wide-spreading and never- 
 ceasing popularity." 
 
 While the author of the " Echoes of Childhood " admits the improb- 
 ability of some of the events described in the Nursery Melodies, he 
 nevertheless gives to the narrators due credit for their literary genius, 
 and especially for the affecting story of Jack and Jill, which was several 
 years ago published in a separate volume, and which the author of these 
 pages claimed the right to elaborate, showing the true history of these 
 celebrated personages, and giving the moral to be drawn from their un- 
 pretentious lives. So as to the Queen of Hearts, whose lovely character 
 has not heretofore been fully presented to the world. The index to this 
 work will, of course, be consulted, and therefore the author need not 
 specifically call attention to all the characters about whom he speaks 
 with as much sincerity as the facts permit. He has explained many 
 things which are obscure in the original poetry, but has not attempted 
 to improve the text. 
 
 ■'So- -^SlJ^j' 0rs.'-^ 
 
g^ =="^=^^^^s«^ 
 
 IN TR ODUCTION. 
 
 Thus much is due to the intelligent and appreciative reader as an in- 
 troduction to the historic, traditional, and supposititious things to follow. 
 
 The author, with the good-nature which inspires him, permits the 
 public to form its own estimate of the character of this work, while he 
 himself, unaided by modern sons of genius, will seriously discharge his 
 duty to the best of his ability. 
 
 To him some of the trifles in the Melodies of Mother Goose seem to 
 be innovations ; but as it would be difficult to draw a distinctive line 
 between the genuine and the apocryphal productions, he may be spared 
 from a task involving so much (perhaps fruitless) labor. Therefore he 
 boldly selects from the poetic gems, as texts for his sermons, those which 
 have the greater charm for himself, without attempting to bias the minds 
 of others concerning the simple melodies which have for so many years 
 delighted the young, and which to adults often return as the " Echoes 
 of Childhood " with all their innocent and pleasant memories. 
 
 L. A. GOBRIGHT. 
 
 Washington, D. C, October, 1878. 
 
 ^^&^ 
 
^^: 
 
 AN INVOCATION! 
 
 Now listen to the laughter wild 
 
 Of little girls and boys, 
 And to the noise of moving feet — 
 
 The chorus of their joys. 
 If you 're disposed to interfere 
 
 With chilling look or word, 
 Remember that in childhood you 
 
 Were with like passions stirred. 
 You can't expect these little folk 
 
 Should be as grave as you, 
 And their behavior quite as good 
 
 In all they say and do. 
 A.lowance you must make for them, 
 
 And in their sport take part, 
 And happiness you thus will add 
 
 To many a tender heart. 
 
 ^ 
 
 ^k 
 'i 
 
 
^b^ 
 
 ^^- 
 
 s 
 
 THE 
 
 Story of Jack and Jill 
 
 Is usually rendered thus in the modern nursery editions : 
 
 Jack and Jill went up the hill 
 
 To fetch a pail of water, 
 
 When Jack fell down, and broke his crown, 
 
 And Jill came tumbling after. 
 
 Jack up got and home did trot, 
 
 As fast as he could caper; 
 
 His brother Bob plastered his knob 
 
 With vinegar and brown paper. 
 
 And in the earlier editions the following verses appeared : 
 
 Little Jane ran up the lane 
 
 To hang the clothes a-drying ; 
 
 She called for Nell to ring the bell, 
 
 For Jack and Jill were dying. 
 
 Nimble Dick ran up so quick 
 
 He stumbled over a timber ; 
 
 He bent his bow to kill a crow, ^ 
 
 And shot a cat in the window. ^r^ 
 
 ^^P^' 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 " Because the beginning seemeth abrupt, it needs that you know the occasion of these several 
 adventures, for the method of a poet historical is not such as of an historiographer." — Spenser. 
 
 ^jj^HE Nursery Melodies which the author has consuUed do not give 
 "Sjife such information concerning the hves of Jack and Jill as he de- 
 @^[^ sired to obtain, in order to write their history with the particularity 
 the subject seemed to demand. Mr. Spofford, the chief of the Library 
 of Congress, extended all the facilities in his power to aid the author, 
 who regrets that he is compelled to assert that the literature in that 
 library, though abundant in other respects, is deficient in the matter of 
 Jack and Jill. Therefore, it became necessary to make inquiries else- j 
 where — among the private, though not extensive libraries of children. j 
 But even there the results were not satisfactory. It was found that the { 
 several writers of narratives of Jack and Jill do not agree as to the char- I 
 acter of the injury to Jack in the fall. They are, however, in harmony j 
 on the averment that his head was repaired by the application of " vinegar j 
 and brown paper." Taking this for granted, (and the author has, as yet, i 
 discovered no one who doubts the truth,) it is unreasonable to suppose 
 that a broken crown could be repaired with such simple appliances ! 
 Therefore, the sensible conclusion is that Jack's head was not broken but 
 merely stunned. As to Jack's " capering " to his home, this would seem 
 to be mere poetic license, not warranted by the facts ; or, it may have 
 been intended to cast ridicule on the event which endangered his life I 
 
 By a strange mistake, which cannot be explained, the following inap 
 propriate verse was added to the earlier editions of the history : 
 
 " Nimble Dick ran up so quick, 
 He stumbled over a timber ; 
 He bent his bow to kill a crow. 
 And shot a cat in the window." 
 
PRE FA CE. 
 
 Evidently this verse belonged to some other story. The fact is so ap- 
 parent that the author utterly rejects it, without passing an opinion on its 
 poetic merit. 
 
 The story of Jack and Jill is as truthfully set forth in these pages as the 
 opportunities for obtaining information warrant ; and the author will ad- 
 here to this belief until authentic records — not mere logical disquisitions 
 — shall be produced to convince him of mistake ! 
 
 The name of Jack is from the French Jacques, and Latin Jacobits ; 
 and Jack is the diminutive of John, as understood among ourselves. 
 
 JulieiDie was in vogue among the Norman families. It long prevailed 
 in England as Julyn, and became so common as Gillian that Jill was the 
 regular companion of Jack. We have from this the name of Juliana. 
 
 Shakspeare, in his play of the " Midsummer Night's Dream," written 
 about two hundred and seventy-five years ago, alludes to the characters 
 of Jack and Jill ; and Ray, in his " Proverbs," speaks of them in a pleas- 
 ant way ; the latter asserting, as a truth, that " a good Jack makes a good 
 Jill ; " which fact is illustrated in these pages. 
 
 Ben Jonson, in his " Gypsies," says : 
 
 "I can, for I will. 
 Here at Burley o' the hill, 
 Give you all your fill, 
 Each Jack with his Jill." 
 
 In a note to " Specimens of Lyric Poems," composed in England during 
 the reign of Edward the First, six hundred years ago, it is said there was 
 an old play, now lost, called " Jack and Jill." 
 
 Researches show that King James I. of Scotland, who died in 1437, 
 wrote the poem of " Christ's Kirk on the Green," from which it appears 
 that Gillie scorned and made mouths at Jok ; which treatment, to say 
 the least, was unkind, and that Jok " would have loved Gillie " but " she 
 would not let him," This statement cannot refer to our Jack and Jill, 
 unless, by an extension of the imagination, it can be supposed that Gillie 
 
 
mm^'~- 
 
 :^^ 
 
 PRE FA CE. 
 
 was finally "brought to terms " by Jok, as is sometimes the case in love 
 adventures. It is certain, however, that the royal bard selected these 
 two euphonic names to adorn his poetry, and has linked them with im- 
 perishable fame ! 
 
 The author affectionately requests the readers of this poem to believe 
 that he has undertaken to reconcile probabilities with facts, while discard- 
 ing the absurdities of compilers, his object being to restore the history to 
 its original seriousness ! 
 
 *"Tis not indeed my talent to engage 
 In lofty trifles, or to swell my page 
 With wind and noise." 
 
 For centuries the simple story of Jack and Jill has delighted millions 
 upon millions of children, who, in after years, did not forget the narrative. 
 It has always been pleasant to recall the story, and so it will continue to 
 be in coming time, as long as there is a child in Christendom with the 
 ability to understand the oral relation of the story, or to read it without 
 adult assistance. 
 
 The author submits his poem, not to public criticism, but to the judgment 
 of all who appreciate contributions to hterature, and especially as his 
 production will, he is sure, fill a vacancy in the libraries of the world, 
 provided the history of Jack and Jill be not rejected in consequence of 
 the ridicule heretofore thoughtlessly cast upon their names ! 
 
 The narrative should have a place appropriate to the merits of the humble 
 characters never to be separated from English and American memories. 
 The author is certain that the poem will adorn the Library of Congress, 
 as the law requires two specimens of all copyrighted works to be placed 
 within its sacred keeping! 
 
 L. A. GOBRIGHT. 
 
 )!^ir^P?i*?^ 
 
 J^ 
 
^'■V' irtTv^-risjC 
 
 '•^^ 
 
 W^:. 
 
 1 
 ^ 
 
 Jack and Jill. 
 
 3><K< 
 
 CHAPTER I, 
 
 The Home of Jack and Jill — Their Parents — "John Anderson my 
 Jo" — The Habits and Occupation of Jack and Jill — Their In- 
 dustry AND its P^ruits — Country Morals, etc, 
 
 IN literature we Ve Jack and Jill, 
 Preserved in nursery rhyme, 
 Of interest now to young and old, 
 As in the ancient time. 
 
 It is not told where they were born, 
 
 Or who their parents were, 
 But certain 't is they parents had, 
 
 Who nurtured them with care, 
 
 And fitted them as best they could 
 
 To lead a happy life, 
 That Jack a husband good should be, 
 
 And Jill a model wife. 
 
 I 
 
 13 
 
 ^^^r 
 
 -^So^ci^^ 
 
:rzn*-^; 
 
 JACK AND JILL. 
 
 Now, in the walk of humble life. 
 
 And in their married state, 
 The great and small alike may find 
 
 Much good to miitate. 
 
 "John Anderson, my Jo John," 
 A song which you Ve heard often, 
 
 Which will henceforth, as in the past, 
 The soul's best feelings soften, 
 
 Tells how John climbed the hill of life, 
 
 By blessings rich attended, 
 And to the vale, without a fall, 
 
 With his good wife descended. 
 
 Alas! not so with reference 
 
 To rustic Jack and Jill, 
 Who went up slower than they came 
 
 Adown the slippery hill I 
 
 From this Burns, maybe, made his song, 
 
 Much everywhere admired, 
 With such improvements as his Muse 
 
 And kindly heart inspired. 
 
 4 
 
 ^S 
 
4r^ 
 
 r 
 
 ^ 
 
 J A CK AND JILL. 
 
 The city has its gayety, 
 
 Where wealth and thrift abound, 
 And vice and virtue, strongly marked, 
 
 In neighborhood are found. 
 
 But many love the country more, 
 
 With its untainted air, 
 The woodland, and the field, and lawn 
 
 And better morals there. 
 
 And in this rural life are hearts 
 
 Which do not vices know ; 
 But virtues which mankind adorn. 
 
 And happiness bestow. 
 
 More rich are they with grateful hearts. 
 From which contentment springs. 
 
 Than those whose e'er increasing wealth 
 No true enjoyment brings. 
 
 Jack led a strictly moral life. 
 Which was a theme of praise. 
 
 And everybody wished that he 
 Could follow in Jack's w^ays. 
 
 15 
 
^^g. 
 
 J A CK A ND JIL L, 
 
 He did not ardent spirits drink 
 
 For artificial cheer, 
 But was contented with supphes 
 
 Of Jill's refreshing beer. 
 
 He ne'er neglected Mrs. Jill, 
 
 Nor close attention paid 
 To any neighbor's pretty wife, 
 
 Or any comely maid. 
 
 No tenpin alley, sample room, 
 
 Or vulgar concert hall, 
 Could him from his domestic state 
 
 And occupation call. 
 
 He owned a little tract of ground, 
 
 To which he gave his toil, 
 And was rewarded with the fruits 
 
 That issued from the soil. 
 
 His cot was plain, but neatly kept 
 
 By Jill, with humble pride, 
 Who freely whitewash used within ^ 
 
 And on the boards outside. ^ 
 
J A CK A ND JIL L. ¥^ 
 
 She planted flower-seeds in the yard, 
 
 Near to the cottage-gate, 
 And paid attention to the soil 
 
 That they might germinate. 
 
 The generous earth its beauties gave, 
 
 Rare, odorous, profuse. 
 With all the primal colors 
 
 And their secondary hues. 
 
 Her cabbages and onions were 
 
 The best her neighbors knew, 
 With other culinary plants 
 
 Which in her garden grew. 
 
 She fed he: fowl, she milked her cow. 
 
 And everywhere 'twas said 
 No woman in the country round 
 
 Such bread and butter made. 
 
 In all she did, indoors or out, 
 
 She showed good taste and skill, 
 Which Jack her husband seconded 
 
 With ready act and will. ^ 
 
(X /A CK A ND TILL. 
 
 \ 
 
 CHAPTER 11. 
 
 Domestic Comfort — Rural Luxury — Proof of Affection — Going for 
 • THE Water — The Drink — The Circumstances attending the 
 Fall — Misfortunes from a Cooling Draught, etc. 
 
 T N time of summer Jack and Jill, 
 -■- Their dinner being o'er, 
 Sat down to talk and rest themselves 
 Before their cottage-door. 
 
 The shower that brightened tree and grass 
 
 Had cooled the heated air, 
 And light winds through the clover-bloom 
 
 Conveyed its fragrance there. 
 
 Said Jill " I thirst, I want a drink 
 
 Drawn from our favorite spring, 
 When Jack replied " I'll water get, 
 
 If you a vessel bring." 
 
 Responsive to Jack's readiness 
 His loving Jill supplied 
 \ The pail, which had been lately scoured, 
 
 fp And placed it at his side. 
 
 n i8 
 
J A CK AND JILL. 
 
 As little Mary had a lamb, 
 
 Whose fleece was white, like snow, 
 And wheresoever Mary went 
 
 The lamb was sure to go; 
 
 Jill with devotion quite as strong 
 
 Attended on her Jack, 
 Who always found her at his side 
 
 Or closely at his back. 
 
 Said she *' I'll go along with you. 
 To cheer you on the way, 
 
 Because I care not at this place 
 Without my Jack to stay." 
 
 Then up they went the hillside steep 
 
 The water to obtain. 
 And with this purpose at the spring 
 
 No longer to remain. 
 
 They took a deep and cooling drink. 
 And filled the wooden pail, 
 
 But on returning to their cot 
 Departed from the trail. 
 
 20 
 
 :^^^ 
 
J A CK AND JILL. 
 
 Their eyes were turned toward Nature's charms, 
 
 Extending all around, 
 With dotting flowers upon her robes 
 
 And by the greenwood bound. 
 
 Birds resting in their leafy homes 
 
 From weariness of flight. 
 Upon the beauteous scene looked forth 
 
 And warbled with delight. 
 
 The ground being wet with recent rain 
 
 And slippery to the tread, 
 Jack fell adown the steep hillside 
 
 And struck upon his head ! 
 
 Jill screamed like any other wife 
 
 Who for her husband feels, 
 But in her haste to reach her Jack 
 
 She tumbled at his heels. 
 
 Alas ! this shows that in an hour 
 When mortals little think 
 4<, Misfortune will upon them come i 
 
 1^ E'en from a cooling" drink ! ^ 
 
 S^g^^^, — ^s^s^ 
 
J A CK AND JILL, 
 
 % 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 What Jill did after the Accident — Timely Arrival of Assistance — 
 The Alarm — Tolling of the Bell — Wonderful Effects of Vinegar 
 and Brown Paper — The Recovery — The Lesson. 
 
 W 
 
 HEN Jill arose and cried for help, 
 Which very soon was found, 
 The neighbors handled Jack with care 
 And raised him from the ground; 
 
 Then bore him to his cottage home 
 
 And placed him in his bed, 
 While words gave way to silent grief 
 
 And tears were freely shed. 
 
 The news soon spread, both far and near; 
 
 The villagers, alarmed, 
 Rushed wildly to the scene to learn 
 
 If Jack was sorely harmed ! 
 
 'Twas then that little Jane, who'd just 
 
 Put out her clothes to dry. 
 Tore her blonde hair and wrung her hands 
 
 As she began to cry. 
 
mm^= ^&(^. .., 
 
 YJ JACK AND JILL. V\ 
 
 i \ 
 
 I t 
 
 She thought Jack dead, and in her grief i 
 
 Implored her sister Nell j 
 
 To hasten to the village church j 
 
 And forthwith toll the bell. 
 
 Ah ! 'twas a time of deepest woe 
 
 To poor Jack's every friend, 
 Who thought that he had by the fall 
 
 Come to a fatal end ! 
 
 Jack had a brother very kind, 
 
 Bob was his common name ; 
 Soon as he heard the tolling bell 
 
 With breathless haste he came. 
 
 And bending o'er his brother Jack, 
 
 Feeling his head with care, 
 He was rejoiced to find no bump 
 
 Nor any fracture there ! 
 
 Jack gave a sign which showed that he 
 
 Was not among the dead, 
 And while he groaned in deep distress 
 #^ He pointed to his head. 
 
 25 
 
 5!¥3. 
 
it 
 
 %:ji^D 
 
 ^,^^^=^ — ^^^'^;^T^!'^ 
 
 J A CK AND JILL. 
 
 It thus appeared Jack was but stunned — 
 
 E'en this was much deplored — 
 And that by simple remedies 
 
 He soon might be restored. 
 
 Brown paper, steeped in vinegar, 
 
 With confidence was tried, 
 And was by Bob with tender hand 
 
 To Jack's hurt head applied. 
 
 This had a wonderful effect, 
 
 And brought to Jack relief; 
 There now was no excuse for tears 
 
 Or utterance of grief! 
 
 The neighbors all rejoiced that Jack 
 
 Was without any pain, 
 Or even scratch, and hoped that he 
 
 Would ne'er fall down again ! 
 
 Jack, now restored to cheerful health, 
 
 Industrious was found. 
 Attending to his faithful Jill 
 
 And to his farming ground. 
 
 He lived for many years in peace Z, 
 
 And happiness with Jill ; ^^i 
 
 3 
 
 c^d:^^^g^ — — ^g^^s^SH 
 
 26 
 
e^«N^^J£^iT^- 
 
 ■ti) 
 
 f 
 
 J A CK AND JILL. 
 
 QJ 
 
 % 
 
 Their children meantime played upon 
 
 But ne'er fell down the hill ! 
 Since these events proud governments 
 
 Of glory have been shorn, 
 And others disappeared in gloom, 
 
 With few the loss to mourn; 
 
 While nations weak have grown in strength, 
 
 And e'en our own had birth. 
 The freest and the happiest 
 
 Existing on the earth. 
 
 Though countless names illuminate 
 
 The history of man, 
 For warlike acts and civic deeds 
 
 E'er since the world began. 
 
 No characters are better known 
 
 Than humble Jack and Jill, 
 With incidents concerning them 
 
 That happened on the hill. 
 From which a lesson may be learned, 
 
 Of interest to all: 
 Let them who think they firmly stand 
 
 Take warning lest they fall! 
 
 27 
 
 r§:^^W 
 
^2^^- 
 
 The Reign of Hearts. 
 
 The original text reads as follows in the Melodies. 
 
 "The Queen of Hearts 
 
 She made some tarts 
 All on a summer's day; 
 
 The Knave of Hearts 
 
 He stole the tarts, 
 And with them ran away. 
 
 "The King of. Hearts 
 
 Called for those tarts, 
 And beat the Knave full sore; 
 
 The Knave of Hearts 
 
 Brought back the tarts, 
 And vowed he 'd steal no more." 
 
 28 
 
 — =^ 
 
i I 
 
 ^ The Reign of Hearts. ^ 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 The Queen of Hearts Sets a Good Example in Domestic Affairs — She 
 Delights in Making Tarts, which are Stolen, but Afterward 
 Recovered — Their Presentation to the King — The Thief, appre- 
 hensive of the Consequences of his Crime, Pleads for Pardon, 
 Promising Thereafter to Lead an Honest Life. 
 
 " I ^HE Queen a good example set, 
 
 ■^ And, scorning all things vain, 
 She sought to render happier 
 Her husband's peaceful reign. 
 
 " Industrious be," her motto was 
 
 To classes rich and poor, 
 " If you would always plenty have 
 
 In basket and in store." 
 
 The Queen, to show proficiency 
 
 In the domestic arts, 
 Descended to the kitchen's gloom 
 
 To manufacture tarts. 
 
 29 
 
 
^^j THE REIGN OF HEARTS. %^ 
 
 It mattered not, though summer time, 
 
 And Sirius fiercely raged, 
 With nimble white and jewelled hands 
 
 She m the work engaged. 
 
 And when the labor, self-imposed, 
 
 Successfully was o'er, 
 She placed the tarts, that they might cool, 
 
 Outside the kitchen door. 
 
 Her right to rule the kitchen realm * 
 
 By industry was earned ; 
 But, ah! the tarts could not be found 
 
 When she for them returned. 
 
 The Knave of Hearts, secreted near, 
 
 A thief by night and day, 
 Had pounced upon the tempting tarts 
 
 And with them ran away! 
 
 The Queen, discovering she 'd been robbed, 
 
 The fact told to the King. 
 Who sent a guard to catch the Knave, 
 ^f^ And him to judgment bring. %. 
 
 30 f4 
 
THE REIGN OE HEARTS. 
 
 
 With his left hand the irate King 
 Seized by the throat the Knave, 
 
 And with a cudgel in his right 
 Severe instruction gave. 
 
 " Go now and bring to me the tarts 
 Made by my model wife ; 
 A failure to obey my word 
 Involves your worthless life ! " 
 
 The Knave retired, and soon returned, 
 
 Obeying the command, 
 And forthwith placed the savory tarts 
 
 Within the royal hand. 
 
 The Sovereign ate, and thanked the Queen 
 For the good tarts she made ; 
 
 The Knave meantime asunder stood. 
 Confounded and afraid ! 
 
 Then falling at the royal feet 
 
 To amnesty implore, 
 The Knave declared with tearful eyes 
 
 He 'd depredate no more. 
 
 31 
 
 
 ''^-m^^=^==..==.^'^^' 
 
7'B'E REIGN OF HEARTS. 
 
 ^ 
 % 
 
 CHAPTER 11. 
 
 The Lesson of Charity Taught by the Queen — The Plea for Par- 
 don—The QuhEN Triumphant — The King's Proclamation — The 
 Reign of Hearts. 
 
 ■f T JE know 'mong woman's brightest gems 
 
 Are acts of tenderness 
 T'ward those who suffer and are known 
 As objects of distress; 
 
 Therefore the Queen, in gentle tones, 
 
 Spoke to her generous lord, 
 Convinced the gracious boon she asked 
 
 He gladly would accord. 
 
 *' My liege," she said, " forgive the crime, 
 And pardon now declare, 
 For in the joy such deeds bestow 
 My heart will ever share. 
 
 "All human beings may at times 
 The moral precepts break ; 
 But while we should condemn the wrong, 
 
 We need not vengeance take." ^ 
 
^S'^^^- 
 
 THE REIGN OF HEARTS. 
 
 The King replied, " I Ve heard your prayer, 
 
 My faithful Queen of Hearts, 
 But I 'm reluctant to forgive 
 
 The crime of stealing tarts. 
 
 " *T is for your sake alone I yield, 
 I can't resist the prayer 
 So full of generous sentiment. 
 And pardon now declare ! " 
 
 At his command up rose the Knave 
 
 Who stole the tempting tarts, 
 And in excess of gratitude 
 
 Extolled the reign of Hearts ! 
 
 The Queen of Hearts, though victor now, 
 
 Did not attempt to speak, 
 Save in the tears of thankfulness 
 
 That glistened on her cheek ; 
 
 And clinging to the jewelled neck 
 
 Of him who wrong forgave, 
 She kissed the lips that had declared 
 
 Full pardon to the Knave ! 
 
 34 
 
 CiS^a 
 

 THE REIGN OF HEARTS. 
 
 '-^^^^ 
 
 The King returned the warm caress 
 
 And kisses of his wife, 
 Who, by example, taught him how 
 
 To lead a happier life. 
 
 The charity that joyousness 
 In thought and deed imparts, 
 
 Should have its dwelling everywhere, 
 Including royal hearts ! 
 
 CZ 
 
 35 
 
i Mr. and Mrs. Spratt. 
 
 oj*;< 
 
 "Jack Spratt could eat no fat, 
 His wife could eat no lean; 
 So, nothing loth, 
 Between them both 
 They licked the platter clean." 
 
 A valuable lesson to husbands and wives, showing that 
 compromise preserves the peace. 
 
 A/rAY peace prevail forevermore 
 -^-^ ^ In the domestic state, 
 With no discordant elements 
 Nor words to irritate. 
 
 'Tis known Concord and Harmony 
 To tender hearts are bound, 
 
 And are alike in palaces 
 
 And humble dwellings found. 
 
 The world is better than do say 
 Those who of it complain, 
 
 But, notwithstanding, cherish hopes 
 To longer here remain ! 
 

 l 
 
 MR. AND MRS. S F R A T T. 
 
 Within ourselves the secret lies 
 
 Of happiness or woe, 
 And with the culture of the heart 
 
 The fruits of love will grow. 
 
 Neglected, Vice will silently, 
 
 And by degrees, obtain 
 The mastery, and there, perhaps, 
 
 Forever will remain. 
 
 Sometimes a man will suffer pain 
 In consequence of deeds 
 
 Which, step by step,, in his career 
 To further trouble leads. 
 
 -^^^ 
 
 y- 
 
 I 
 
 It may be that he can't escape 
 The public's searching gaze, 
 
 Who 're always ready to condemn 
 And stigmatize his ways. 
 
 Amid the perils that surround, 
 Whate'er their nature be, 
 
 Let every one, to guard his fame, 
 Act as his own trustee. 
 
 37 
 
 rJ^^b^tAjS'C 
 
 i 
 
MR. AND MRS. SPRATT. 
 
 Let character be always built 
 
 Upon a moral base, 
 Which storms detractive cannot move 
 
 Or injure with disgrace! 
 
 Slight causes, like the little cloud, 
 Presage the storm to come, 
 
 When darkness in the place of light 
 Rests densely over home. 
 
 But, unlike nature, with her storms, 
 
 Which purify the air, 
 Domestic ones the household taint 
 
 And leave no blessing there! 
 
 Self-will, the sovereign of the mind, 
 
 Is oft the cause of strife, 
 Whether the husband be to blame. 
 
 Or resting with the wife. 
 
 No woman is content the man 
 Shall of his food complain. 
 
 Or unbecomingly intrude 
 Upon the cook's domain ; 
 
 38 
 
 '?e^: 
 
4^ 
 
 MR. AND MRS. S P R A T T. 
 
 And neither should insist the meal, 
 
 Without a scrap of waste, 
 Be measured to the appetite, 
 
 Exactly to the taste. 
 
 Accommodation works its good. 
 
 And will disputes defeat; 
 This fact is found in nursery lore 
 
 About a piece of meat. 
 
 A rustic, Jacky Spratt, was joined 
 
 To a fair country maid. 
 But during courtship not a word 
 
 About their fare was said. 
 
 Love was the power within their hearts 
 
 Which them together drew, 
 And made them one as man and wife — 
 
 As such they happier grew. 
 
 One day was cooked a piece of meat, 
 
 As good as e'er was seen — 
 A half was of the purest fat, 
 ^ The other half was lean. ^, 
 
 % 39 k 
 

MR. AND MRS. S P R A T T, 
 
 
 'Tis said that Jack rejected fat, 
 Could not the substance eat; 
 
 And that his wife discarded lean 
 From the same piece of meat! 
 
 The narrative 's not clear to those 
 
 Who ever truth pursue, 
 But simple reason must supply 
 
 The facts obscured from view. 
 
 It is : the lean passed to the mouth 
 
 Of Mr. Jacky Spratt, 
 And that his wife the portion ate 
 
 Distinctly marked as fat. 
 
 Because we cannot think they 'd waste 
 The meat which health required, 
 
 When both were hungry, and could eat 
 What each the most desired. 
 
 z 
 
 I 
 
 i 
 
 ^^^: 
 
 The tastes diverse thus gratified 
 
 In eating fat and lean, 
 They closed the meal harmoniously 
 
 And " licked the platter clean ! " 
 
 41 
 
 <^I 
 
 ■m^&l 
 
MJ?. AND MRS. SPRATT. 
 
 It would not well become us now 
 
 To criticize their ways, 
 Nor venture comments, or express 
 
 Our censure or our praise. 
 
 We take the bare recited truth, 
 
 The homely stated act, 
 And nothing add or take away 
 
 From the recorded fact. 
 
 Of this there 's nothing to be said 
 That 's classic or refined, 
 
 But we must recollect that they 
 Were of uncultured mind! 
 
 Besides, what they did at their board 
 Concerned themselves, not those 
 
 Whose tongues in scandal fierce indulge 
 And seldom know repose. 
 
 The lesson 's this : when tastes diverse 
 With comforts interfere, 
 ^ Think of Jack Spratt and of his wife, 
 
 fp^ And of their dinner cheer. 
 
 i% 
 
 42 
 
 .o> 
 
 i^^^: 
 
Little Miss Muffitand the Spider 
 
 "Little Miss Muffit 
 Sat on a tuffit, 
 
 Eating curds and whey; 
 
 There came out a spider 
 And sat down beside her, 
 
 And frightened Miss Muffit away! 
 
 QOMETIMES, when we contented are, 
 *^ Partaking of our food, 
 Unlooked for creatures may appear 
 And on the feast intrude. 
 
 No matter if the fare be plain, 
 
 Such are bread and cheese. 
 And curds and whey, and mush and milk 
 
 The appetite to please, 
 
 43 
 
LITTLE MISS MUFFIT. 
 
 
 We love to eat with cheerful mind, 
 And with no sense of fear 
 
 That any form repulsively 
 Will at the board appear. 
 
 An ancient Hebrew monarch said 
 
 A dinner e'en of herbs, 
 If charity but season it, 
 
 And nothing wrong disturbs, 
 
 Is better than a stalled ox 
 Served as a generous meal, 
 
 If those who eat possess not love, 
 But only hatred feel. 
 
 No wonder that Miss Muffit, while 
 
 Intent upon her fare. 
 Was frightened by a spider vile 
 
 That sat beside her there ! 
 
 ^^^g^: 
 
 The lady's dread to feel its bite 
 Opposed her longer stay, 
 
 And rather than its company keep 
 She from it ran away ! 
 
 44 
 
 -^'l^^c=^ 
 
 <^£ 
 
^e- 
 
 LITTLE MISS MUFFIT 
 
 While she could have the spider killed, 
 
 Thus ending its career, 
 Perhaps she did not think of this, 
 
 So potent was her fear. 
 
 But if she had the insect crushed 
 
 Without the least delay, 
 She might have, without further fear, 
 
 Consumed her curds and whey. 
 
 Though we should never cruel be. 
 
 And kill for trifling cause, 
 The subtle prisoner should not 
 
 Escape the penal laws. 
 
 Are not mosquitoes sometimes killed 
 
 In sultry summer night, 
 While in the act of drawing blood. 
 
 In which they take delight? 
 
 Are not snakes slain that move in grass 
 And dart the hissing tongue. 
 
 In anxious gladness for the prey 
 To be with poison stung? 
 
 45 
 
 
i — 
 
 LITTLE MISS MUFFIT 
 
 
 But, if they 'd keep away, no club, 
 
 Or other deadly thing, 
 Would interrupt them in their ways 
 
 Or swift destruction bring ! 
 
 There 're spiders in this lower world 
 
 That ever watch for prey, 
 Both in the covert of the night 
 
 And in the open day. 
 
 No matter what the form may be 
 
 Of all pestiferous things. 
 Whether they upon two legs walk, 
 
 Or crawl, or move with wings, 
 
 The safer and the better way 
 
 Is so to act our part 
 That they shall not our bodies harm. 
 
 Or vitiate the heart ! 
 
 
 i^^: 
 
 46 
 
 i 
 
 <ffi 
 
 :,?:^^M 
 
hp 
 
 ^ The Old WoiMAn Under the Hill. 
 
 A LESSON OF HUMILITY. 
 
 3>*IC 
 
 "There was an old woman lived under a hill, 
 And if she^s not gone she lives there still." 
 
 T T ER home was not a mansion large, 
 *- ^ With windows broad and high. 
 And ample grounds and ornaments 
 Which riches could supply. i^q 
 
 But how she lived, or kind of house, 
 
 The poet does not state : 
 This Seemed a trifle in his mind 
 
 That he does not relate. 
 
 'T is not narrated she 'd such kin, 
 
 And therefore trouble knew. 
 Like one who many children had 
 
 And lived within a shoe. 
 
 47 
 
 :^^b 
 

 Sti> 
 
 OLD WOMAN UNDER THE HILL 
 
 The poet briefly speaks of her 
 As though she lived alone, 
 
 With no romance upon herself 
 Or habitation thrown. 
 
 The fact that she her domicile 
 
 Under the hillside made, 
 Not in the sun's exposing blaze, 
 
 But in the softened shade, 
 
 Shows that she lived an liumble life. 
 Which envy could not reach, 
 
 And that her ways, unheralded. 
 Should e'er contentment teach. 
 
 Perhaps a widow's lot was hers, 
 
 By loneliness oppressed, 
 But with the wealth in faith and hope 
 
 By pious hearts possessed. 
 
 The flowers that grow in summer's shade 
 Do not such hardness bear 
 ^ As those which to the north winds bow 
 
 -^ And in the sunbeams share. 
 
 48 
 
 ►5^^- 
 

 OLD WOMAN UNDER THE HILL. 
 
 But tender flowers their beauty have 
 
 In modesty's array, 
 Though they do not strong odors yield 
 
 Nor gorgeous tints display. 
 
 So, worthy deeds of human kind 
 Performed, though in the shade, 
 
 Should not be valued less than those 
 With brighter light displayed. 
 
 The poet briefly tells to us, 
 
 In unpretending rhyme, 
 Where the old nameless lady lived. 
 
 But does not state the time. 
 
 a^'SeM^^^^: 
 
 The fact implies that all who live 
 
 Must quite as surely die, 
 And the remains of those we love 
 
 Beneath the hillock lie. 
 
 We can't the poet's story doubt 
 
 That underneath the hill 
 The woman old, " if she 's not gone," 
 
 Has there her dwelling still ! 
 
 49 
 
 -y^^^S^ 
 

 ''^^^'^^^^T. 
 
 Little Polly Flinders. 
 
 •'Little Polly Flinders 
 Sat among the cinders, 
 
 Warming her pretty little toes ; 
 
 Her mother came and caught her, 
 And whipped her little daughter 
 
 For spoiling her nice new clothes 1 " 
 
 M 
 
 ISS Polly Flinders, being cold, 
 The warming cinders sought, 
 Not thinking that her conduct was 
 With castigation fraught. 
 
 
 She sat the cinders bright among, 
 Regardless of her clothes, 
 
 Because her object was to warm 
 Her pretty little toes ! 
 
 50 
 
 ■^/N.i/^aj^^-?- 
 
 :**a^^ 
 

 "^^; 
 
 LITTLE POLLY FLINDERS. 
 
 ^m 
 
 The mother had with care and taste 
 
 Her only daughter dressed; 
 The clothes were new she gave to her, 
 
 From stinted means the best. 
 
 Poor Polly, like a thoughtless child, 
 
 Did not perceive, though vain, 
 The sacrifice the mother made 
 
 The garments to obtain. 
 
 Like children of a larger growth, 
 
 She loved to take her ease ; 
 Nor dreamed warmth from the cinders' glare 
 
 The mother would displease. 
 
 But she was waked to consciousness 
 
 By her dame's startling voice, 
 Which did not to her comfort bring 
 
 Nor make her heart, rejoice ! 
 
 The clothing formed in fashion's mould 
 
 Was by the cinders soiled 
 And partly burned, as were her shoes, 
 
 And thus completely spoiled! 
 
LITTLE FOLLY FLINDERS. 
 
 As heedlessness oft trouble brings 
 From which there 's no relief, 
 
 Poor little Polly felt with force 
 The measure of her grief. 
 
 This was not all ; the angry dame 
 
 To her full height arose, 
 And Polly whipped because she spoiled 
 
 Her nicely fitting clothes. 
 
 Now, Conscience may apart from this 
 
 All evil-doers chide, 
 And this is more severe than blows 
 
 With stick or hardened hide ! 
 
 I 
 
 53 
 
^M^y^' 
 
 w 
 
 '^^^.^ 
 
 
 The Lancashire Boy. 
 
 "Little boy, little boy, 
 
 Where wast thou born ? 
 Far off in Lancashire, 
 
 Under a thorn, 
 Where they sup sour milk in a ram's horn. 
 
 
 T T matters little where a child 
 -*" First sees the solar light. 
 For this alone no difference makes. 
 If other things are right. 
 
 We know the training of a child 
 Controls his future days, 
 
 Whether it be in ignorance 
 Or wisdom's pleasant ways. 
 
 54 
 
 S^^^ 
 
THE LANCASHIRE BOY. 
 
 All men look back, but not with shame, 
 
 To certain parts of earth, 
 Because an interest always clings • 
 
 To places of their birth. 
 
 The boy of whom the poet speaks 
 
 In Lancashire was born : 
 Not in a palace or an inn, 
 
 But underneath a thorn. 
 
 No silver spoon within his mouth 
 
 Accompanied his advent. 
 For this is not the implement 
 
 With humble offspring sent. 
 
 No cup or bowl of precious ware 
 Was seen where he was born. 
 
 But for imbibing sour milk 
 A ram supplied a horn. 
 
 Men are not worse for sour milk, 
 Which none perhaps suppose. 
 
 No more than they are injured by 
 The color of their clothes. 
 
 55 
 
 i 
 
^ 
 
 THE LANCASHIRE BOY. 
 
 While some men may select with care 
 The food on which they live, 
 
 'Tis folly if the food they eat 
 Sound bodies does not give. 
 
 Every one should eat and drink 
 What best with him agrees, 
 
 Not asking whether certain fare 
 Would all his neighbors please. 
 
 If others turn from sour milk, 
 
 Let them drink milk that's sweet; 
 
 And if they don't love pork or lamb 
 Take other kinds of meat. 
 
 All to their taste in everything, 
 
 Minding their own affairs, 
 And this would save them from distress 
 
 And many trifling cares. 
 
 56 
 
 ^Jt^^^i^ ^ ,:^^^1 
 
*s 
 
 ^g': 
 
 P 
 
 Domestic Contention about Money. 
 
 >X»^c 
 
 My little old woman and I fell out; 
 I '11 tell you what 't was all about : 
 I had money and she had none, 
 And that's the way the noise begun.* 
 
 A MAN'S good-natured while his wife 
 •^ ^ Yields her will to his own ; 
 111 words and loud complaints not then 
 Are to the household known. 
 
 But he cannot expect her e'er 
 
 To bow a willing head, 
 And hold her tongue, nor contradict 
 
 What ■ may by him be said ! 
 
 57 
 
ID 
 
 <(V 
 
 CONTENTION ABOUT MONEY. 
 
 Now if he venture very far, 
 And think he owns his wife. 
 
 She, in assertion of her rights, 
 May cause a mournful hfe. 
 
 A couple close in social bonds, 
 
 An aged man and wife, 
 Forgetful bf their marriage vows, 
 
 Engaged in noisy strife. 
 
 'Tis said that money she possessed. 
 
 And he not e'en a cent, 
 Because he all his currency 
 
 In dissipation spent. 
 
 He sought to draw upon his wife. 
 
 By her to be supplied 
 With cash, but this she valiantly 
 
 And earnestly denied. 
 
 If 'twas her own, she had the right 
 
 To him refuse the pelf; 
 And if he wanted some, he should 
 
 Have earned it for himself! 
 
 58 
 
 ^<^ 
 
 ,-?-^:^^^ 
 
^~^^SB 
 
 % 
 
 The Three Wise Men 
 
 o>»ic 
 
 "Three wise men of Gotham 
 Went to sea in a bowl. 
 If the bowl had been stronger, 
 My story would have been longer." 
 
 The narrative shows that the example of wise men is 
 not always worthy of imitation. 
 
 THREE men of Gotham, ere had clouds 
 From steamer swept the main, 
 Resorted to a novel plan 
 Their object to attain. 
 
 Perhaps they searched for knowledge rare 
 
 Found in aquatic lore, 
 And wished to gaze on ocean's face 
 t Unbounded by the shore! 
 
 fe 
 
 59 
 
^) J^^-^^^^-^-^ 
 
 
l^^^-' 
 
 
 TII£ THREE WISE MEN! 
 
 They were not foolish men, because 
 We 're told that they were wise, 
 
 And hence their travelling means should be 
 No matter of surprise. 
 
 These three wise men could never have. 
 
 With all their learning, heard 
 About the pot launched on the stream, 
 
 And what to it occurred. 
 
 'Twas made of iron, and had been used 
 
 The dinner fare to cook ; 
 Though bright within, its outside had 
 
 A thickly-blackened look. 
 
 The owner, seeking t' other shore. 
 
 Entered the rotund shell, 
 Which foundered with its human freight. 
 
 And to the bottom fell! 
 
 The question need not be discussed, 
 
 Though 'tis a serious theme, 
 Whether a pot to reach the sea 
 
 Was quite as good a scheme 
 
 6i 
 
 ^;^2^:^ 
 
^&^^^' 
 cf 
 
 ? 
 
 TUB THREE WISE MEN! 
 
 As was the bowl the wise men used 
 
 Without a canvas wing, 
 Depending on the favoring waves 
 
 To waft their fragile thing! 
 
 It is, however, a settled fact. 
 That he who tries the feat 
 
 Of travelling in a dinner-pot 
 Will no more dinners cat! 
 
 Attempts like this to reach the sea 
 Can't with success be crowned ; 
 
 And such a man, if he can't swim, 
 Must certainly be drowned! 
 
 Beyond all cavil and dispute. 
 
 Liquids will e'er control 
 Not only that known to the sea, 
 
 But in the pot or bowl, 
 
 I 
 
 
 And when men much indulge in drink. 
 
 They venture on a wave 
 Which with their bowl will float them on 
 
 To early fill a grave. 
 
 62 
 
 ^^S* 
 
THE THREE WISE MEN! 
 
 Experimenters oft receive 
 
 Affliction for their pay, 
 And sometimes in schemes dangerous 
 
 Their life is ta'en away. 
 
 All men would better fare if they 
 
 Would recollect one thing: 
 The breach of Nature's laws wmU e'er 
 
 Chastisement surely bring. 
 
 The ignorant should not condemn 
 
 The actions of wise men, 
 For 't is supposed that men who 're wise 
 
 All useful knowledge ken. 
 
 'T would have been folly in a tar 
 
 To his experience give, 
 Because these wise men thought a bowl 
 
 Could on the ocean live ! 
 
 That mountain waves could only move 
 
 The shell which they employed, 
 And that by floods and winds combined 
 
 It could not be destroyed! ^ 
 
 % 
 63 
 
 ^"^ 
 
 ;:ti(£y^j2:«.S: 
 
»^il#J 
 
 f 
 
 I 
 
 «^^^^^z 
 
 THE THREE WISE MEN! 
 
 While these wise men by going out 
 
 A lasting record earned, 
 The story does not say that they 
 
 Home in the bowl returned. 
 
 They learned the truth when 'twas too late, 
 
 That they could not control 
 The winds, nor save from surging sea 
 
 Themselves within the bowl! 
 
 So thus went down beneath the waves 
 
 Wise men of Gotham three; 
 And none have since employed a bowl 
 
 In which to cross the sea. 
 
 64 
 
 ^ 
 
■^^w^i 
 
 Music for the Million. 
 
 ^>»<<: 
 
 The man that hath no music in himself, 
 
 Nor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds, 
 
 Is fit for treasons, stratagems, and spoils ; 
 
 The motions of his spirit are dull as night, 
 
 And his affections dark as Erebus. 
 
 Let no such man be trusted." — Shakspeare. 
 
 "Tom, Tom, the piper's son, 
 Stole a pig, and away he run ; 
 
 The pig was eat 
 
 And Tom was beat, 
 And Tom ran cr>'ing down the street. 
 
 QHAKSPEARE, whose works will ever be 
 *^ A treasure to mankind. 
 Because they wise instruction ^v^^ 
 And elevate the mind, 
 
 65 
 
 i 
 
 '^^^ 
 
^p 
 
 MUSIC FOR THE MILLION. 
 
 Relates the mournful state of those, 
 
 With callousness of soul, 
 Who ne'er are moved by melody 
 
 Or feel its sweet control. 
 
 A piper lived — we don't know where — 
 
 But he his music played, 
 And by this unpretentious means 
 
 An humble living made. 
 
 The sounds were simple, yet they could 
 Admiring tongues command, 
 
 So good were the selected airs 
 And skilled the player's hand. 
 
 The village boasted that it had 
 
 An instrumental voice; 
 A pipe, though speaking to the ear, 
 
 Could make the heart rejoice. 
 
 There was among the listeners 
 
 One being only found. 
 Who had no taste for harmony 
 
 Or pipe's melodious sound. 
 
 66 
 
*^^^^s 
 
 MUSIC FOR THE MILLION. 
 
 Alas! but the most serious thing 
 That could be said or done, 
 
 Was this exception to the rule 
 Was in the piper's son ! 
 
 Tom had no music in his soul — 
 'Tvvas not congenial soil — 
 
 Therefore he was prepared for theft, 
 Qr other kind of spoil ! 
 
 His tastes were of the lowest kinds, 
 His thoughts with plunder big, 
 
 To the extent he stooped to mire 
 And stole a neighbor's pig! 
 
 Then sold it to a victualler, 
 
 A dealer in such meat, 
 Who bought it in a business way, 
 
 Unconscious of the cheat. 
 
 But soon the owner of the pig 
 The thief a captive made, 
 
 And, scornful of the law's delay, 
 Hard blows upon him laid. 
 
 67 
 
 ^^5^^: 
 
 i 
 
MUSIC FOR THE MILLION. 
 
 The thief, exposed to public gaze, 
 
 And his disgrace complete, 
 Not knowing where to hide his shame, 
 
 Ran crying down the street. 
 
 We do not say that all who have 
 
 No love for music's mig-ht. 
 Would steal a pig or other thing, 
 
 Or moral duties slight; 
 
 But that the love of melody 
 
 Will pleasure e'er impart, 
 And serve to turn the mind from crime 
 
 And better make the heart. 
 
 Though some men, in dyspeptic mood. 
 
 Are rude toward the poor 
 Itinerant who daily brings 
 
 His music to the door, 
 
 The children flock to hear the tunes 
 
 The organist repeats, 
 If, 'specially, a monkey dance, 
 
 With other comic feats. 
 
 69 
 
 .C\ 
 
 k^% 
 
 /'^CA^^fis.^ 
 
5^^^= 
 
 Q 
 
 :»^^ 
 
 MUSIC FOR THE MILLION. 
 
 Amid the pleasure, free to all, 
 It is not known the young 
 
 Believe with Darwin that mankind 
 From apes or monkeys sprung! 
 
 While gentlemen and ladies fill 
 
 At prices high the chairs 
 In theatres and music halls, 
 
 To list to foreign airs, 
 
 Let music for the million sound 
 
 In avenues and streets, 
 The joy of all the juveniles, 
 
 With no exclusive seats ; 
 
 Where there is standing room for all, 
 
 Without regard to age, 
 With no corrupting tendencies 
 
 Reflected from the stage ! 
 
 I' 
 
 s 
 
 
 70 
 
'■^&^^c 
 
 JO 
 
 The Boy and the Owl 
 
 *'A little boy went into a barn, 
 And lay down on some hay ; 
 An owl came out and flew about, 
 And the little boy ran away." 
 
 1 
 
 A LITTLE boy, fatigued with play, 
 -^^^ A quiet rest desired, 
 And therefore he to gain that end 
 To a barn-house retired. 
 
 He did not think of going home, 
 
 Perhaps 't was far away ; 
 Besides, when weary, beds of down 
 
 Are not more choice than hay. 
 
 Contented with the quiet barn, 
 
 With no disturbing things. 
 He in that barn was happier, 
 
 Than Presidents or Kings ! ^M 
 
 ,CS 
 
 ^.^S: 
 

 THE BOY A ND THE O IV L 
 
 The drooping body must have rest 
 Where 'tis the soonest found, 
 
 Whether within a sheltered place 
 Or on the grass-clad ground. 
 
 The boy upon his bed of hay 
 
 Surrounded with perfume, 
 Inhaled the odor of the field 
 
 Fresh with the clover bloom. 
 
 But oftentimes when we believe 
 
 Ourselves the most secure 
 From troubles and perplexing cares, 
 
 Unpleasant acts inure. 
 
 The boy was not disturbed by dog, 
 
 Or any barn-yard fowl, 
 But by a bird of homely mien — 
 
 A rude, intruding owl ! 
 
 Which thought (if such birds think at all) 
 
 'Twas trespass in the boy 
 To come into the barn and there 
 
 A quiet rest enjoy. 
 
-^^^ 
 
 .<^ 
 
 THE BOY AND THE OWL. 
 
 It did not to the owl occur 
 
 Its verdict was unfair, 
 Because the bird had not itself 
 
 A rightful presence there. 
 
 'Tis certain that it could not urge 
 
 Good looks as its defence, 
 Or that, in contrast with the boy, 
 
 It had more common sense. 
 
 Presuming on its night-time fame, 
 
 It wildly flew about 
 To make the boy afraid to stay, 
 
 And from the barn run out! 
 
 Tis said that wisdom in the owl 
 
 Is as an emblem found, 
 Though reasons satisfactory 
 
 For this claim don't abound. 
 
 We know, howe'er, pretentiousness 
 
 Has always too much sway, 
 And, like the owl, offensively I 
 
 Flaps modest worth away ! JS 
 
 73 
 
THE 
 
 Equestrienne of Banbury Cross. 
 
 >j^< 
 
 " Ride a cock horse to Banbury Cross, 
 To see an old lady on a white horse ; 
 Rings on her fingers and bells on her toes, 
 She shall have music wherever she goes." 
 
 /^CCURRENCES upon the street, 
 ^^ Though in their features trite, 
 Will often draw a wondering crowd 
 To gratify the sight. 
 
 E'en should a person upward look, 
 
 But at no certain thing-, 
 This if continued for a while 
 
 Will other gazers bring. 
 
 74 
 
^ss^ 
 
 q^s^: 
 
 EQUESTRIENNE OF BANBURY CROSS. 
 
 The curious are e'er alert 
 
 Some novelty to find, 
 Whether to gratify the eye 
 
 Or stimulate the mind. 
 
 The feet are swift to carry some 
 
 Upon their chosen course, 
 Who do not for a moment think 
 
 Of travelling with a horse; 
 
 While others, better circumstanced, 
 
 And having money means, 
 Resort to nag or vehicle 
 
 To reach exciting scenes. 
 
 The taste for such divertisements 
 
 Attached to those who hied 
 To Banbury, a dame to see 
 
 Upon a white horse ride ! 
 
 Without a question she was vain, 
 
 And eager to display 
 Her golden finger-rings with gems 
 
 That sparkled to the day. 
 
 75 
 
 
EQUESTRIENNE O E B A N B U RY C R O SS. 
 
 And silver bells of various notes 
 
 To all her toes she bound, 
 So that where'er in pride she moved 
 
 Was heard a tinkling sound. 
 
 The crowd, delighted, cheered the dame 
 
 While mounting on her steed, 
 And then beheld her fearlessly 
 
 Far in the distance speed. 
 
 The concourse broke, and many wights 
 
 Ran o'er the dusty course, 
 Believing that they could o'ertake 
 
 The lady on the horse ! 
 
 Soon she returned to Banbury Cross, 
 
 Apparently as gay 
 As when first 'mid the loud acclaim 
 
 She started on her way. 
 
 And capering on her foaming steed, 
 
 She to the people bowed. 
 And with triumphant smiles received 
 
 The plaudits of the crowd. Ji 
 
 76 
 
 '.^"^ 
 
I 
 
 E QUESTRIENNE O E B A N B U R Y C R O S S. 
 
 'T is novelty that e'er attracts 
 And close attention brings, 
 
 While useful knowledge is ignored 
 For merely trifling things. 
 
 Men now, as in the ancient days, 
 The many, not the few, 
 
 Are asking friends with eagerness 
 To show them something new ! 
 
 I. 
 
 C%^Jfe,: 
 
 77 
 
■^J'^gj^?^''. 
 
 fese 
 
 The Dyspepsia Cure, 
 
 J>«=Cc 
 
 •'There was an old man of Tobago, 
 Who lived on rice, gruel, and sago, 
 Till much to his bliss, 
 His physician said this : 
 * To a leg, sir, of mutton you may go.' 
 
 ^ VARIETY'S the spice of life," 
 
 ^ By all so understood, 
 And to the body and the mind 
 Will ever render good. 
 
 The eagle in a golden cage 
 Would be considered poor, 
 
 If he could not the barriers break 
 And in the sunlight soar. 
 
 His pleasures are in actions free, 
 With strong and graceful wing, 
 
 And in the unrestricted food 
 His depredations bring. 
 
 78 
 
 ^^^i 
 
 i 
 
^■^1^5^^'- 
 
 t 
 
 THE DYSPEPSIA CURE. 
 
 No one should think because a man 
 
 Must walk, and cannot fly, 
 Therefore a sumptuary law 
 
 Should certain fare deny. 
 
 Strange fact, that while historians 
 
 Important deeds relate, 
 They do not think it worth their while 
 
 The actors' names to state. 
 
 But we're told of one who lived 
 Long time, without a smile, 
 
 At Tobago, euphonic name, 
 A small West India isle. 
 
 I, 
 1 
 
 And that his food was cheap and plain 
 
 Gruel, sago, and rice — 
 Which would not be by epicures 
 
 Considered very nice. 
 
 Dyspepsia's torments made him sad 
 
 And cross to all around, 
 But as a curative the leech 
 
 Him to a diet bound. 
 
 79 
 
 ^^^^^i 
 
^?* 
 
 
 ^ 
 
 THE DYSPEPSIA CURE. 
 
 He did not overphysic him 
 
 With hquid or with pill, 
 And to the doctor's charges add 
 
 A drug-compounding bill; 
 
 But slowly helped him on his way 
 
 Till his disease was o'er, 
 Then placed him with a knife and fork 
 
 A mutton leg before ! 
 
 No groans and sobs, and loud complaints, 
 
 And vile and profane word, 
 Which in the past escaped from him, 
 
 Were ever after heard. 
 
 The mutton feast restored his smiles 
 And laughter ; these things tell 
 
 Better than other signs 
 
 When men are really well. 
 
 The simple lesson seems to be 
 
 Designed alone for those 
 Who by imprudence bring upon 
 
 Themselves dyspeptic woes. 
 
 80 
 
 "^^K^^^^^^J^^^, 
 
msm^ — 
 
 14 TI/E DYSPEPSIA CURE, 
 
 Here *s a prescription for their ills, 
 
 Bestowed without a fee, 
 Which, if observed, from such disease 
 
 Will set the patient free; 
 
 Combined with effort to divert 
 
 His mind from sense of pain, 
 With constant hope that cheerful health 
 
 Will soon return again. 
 
 One need not try the medicines 
 
 Which empirics prepare 
 For cure of all the ills to which 
 
 The human flesh is heir. 
 
 Wild, hearty laughter always proves 
 
 A source of mental wealth, 
 And light amusements ever serve 
 
 To re-establish health. 
 
 Long faces ill become mankind 
 
 In these enlightened days, 
 But rather smiles and kindly words 
 ^ And good and pleasant ways. -^ 
 
 Si 
 
 vi)'W-A:^^"*^ ' 
 
-*^^r- 
 
 r 
 
 ?4 
 
 Courtship- LOVE'S Argument. 
 
 >>»ic 
 
 " Bonny lass, bonny lass, 
 
 Wilt thou be mine ? 
 You shall neither wash dishes 
 
 Nor serve the wine, 
 But sit on a cushion 
 
 And sew up a seam, 
 And you shall have strawberries, 
 
 Sugar and cream." 
 
 T^HE gallant, with a honeyed tongue, 
 
 ■*• One of a numerous class, 
 Resorts to tender expletives, 
 Such as " My bonny lass ! " 
 
 And finding that the lady thinks 
 
 They are of love the sign. 
 He boldly presses on his suit. 
 
 And asks, "Wilt thou be mine?" A 
 
 82 
 
 ^^M^Sj^^ v^S^c- 
 
|Y courtship— LOVE'S argument. i^ 
 
 ^ 
 
 4 
 
 Not waiting for a sweet response | 
 
 Expressive of her wishes, 
 He tells her she the wine sha'n't serve, 
 
 Nor wash the dinner-dishes; 
 
 But sit upon a cushioned chair, 
 
 The needle nimbly ply. 
 As if this were the only work 
 
 On which she should rely. 
 
 If sewing instruments had been 
 
 The fashion in that day. 
 He would have promised that she might 
 
 In buying have her way, 
 
 And be at liberty to choose 
 
 That which she thought the best. 
 With shuttle, or the underfeed, 
 
 Or needle-hook the test; 
 
 With the facilities to quilt, 
 
 Hem, ruffle, frill and braid, 
 By means of the contrivances 
 
 So delicately made. (f^ 
 
 ^Z 
 
 d 
 
 ^^^=====^=======>^^^^ 
 
to 
 
 m 
 
 COURTSHIP— LOVE'S ARGUMEN 
 
 Further, to win the prize he sought, 
 
 And keep her as his own, 
 He tells her of the only food 
 
 That should to them be known. 
 
 Not fare that 's coarse, that could disturb 
 
 The lady's pleasant dream. 
 But strawberries with sugar sprent 
 
 And intermixed with cream ! 
 
 With ease such promises are made 
 
 The wedding-time before; 
 And, ah! that is the last of them — 
 
 They 're never mentioned more. 
 
 The bridal o'er, the rosy tints 
 O'er youthful prospects thrown 
 
 Depart, like bubbles by a breath 
 From pipes with soapsuds blown ! 
 
 84 
 
 (S^i 
 
 ««> 
 
 's^^'SiL/^-^^^^r- 
 
 
fe¥5^^^^' 
 
 
 The Wise-Foolish Man! 
 
 t| 
 
 1 
 
 *' There was a man in our town, 
 And he was wondrous wise ; 
 He jumped into a bramble-bush 
 And scratched out both his eyes." 
 
 ' I ^HIS illustrates a man, though wise, 
 
 -*- May do a foolish thing, 
 Which will disturb his equipoise 
 And sorrow to him bring. 
 
 In cases ninety-nine he will 
 
 Discharge all duties right, 
 But in the hundredth either fail 
 
 Or their performance slight. 
 
 " But when he saw his eyes were out, 
 He ran with might and main 
 And jumped into another bush 
 And scratched them in again." 
 
 85 
 
 :^^: 
 
^^-) 
 
 '-^^W^S 
 
 THE WISE-FO OLISH MAN! 
 
 When he reflects upon his course, 
 And whai; he thereby lost, 
 
 He seriously deliberates 
 
 And strictly counts the cost. 
 
 Then he resolves to mend his ways 
 And rid his heart of pain ; 
 
 Returning to his former ways 
 He sees himself again. 
 
 Alas ! too many gentlemen 
 Are from good habits torn, 
 
 And ne'er return to them again 
 Till by reflection borne. 
 
 J 
 
 ^^:^: 
 
 86 
 

 Little Jack Horner. 
 
 >>«Kc 
 
 " Little Jack Horner 
 
 Sat in a corner, 
 Eating his Christmas pie; 
 
 He put in his thumb 
 
 And pulled out a plum, 
 And said, " What a good boy am I ? " 
 
 I 
 
 1T7E'VE heard of Jacky Horner 
 
 ^ ^ And of his Christmas pie, 
 The lad that gladly feasred on 
 The holiday supply, 
 
 And even where the youngster sat 
 
 At that particular time; 
 But this fact is related merely 
 
 To complete the rhyme. 
 
 87 
 
^^=;^^^- 
 
 5^/vi^fi^ 
 
 LITTLE J A CK HORNER. Yx 
 
 Now the exploit that he performed 
 
 Was nothing very smart; 
 No more than if he had then ta'en 
 
 A cranberry from a tart! 
 
 He claimed his goodness from a plum 
 That he drew from the mess; 
 
 Beyond this act no merit did 
 He venture to express ! 
 
 This is the way that many have, 
 
 Too numerous to name, 
 Who for their trite performances 
 
 Applause and honor claim. 
 
 They're always on the watch to find 
 
 A plum or goodly prize, 
 And thrust their fingers deep into 
 
 Their honest neighbors' pies! 
 
 88 
 
 « 
 
b^^"^^^^^^^ "^^ 
 
 O 
 
 ts> 
 
 Joe, the Crow-Killer. 
 
 ^>*ic 
 
 "Joe, Joe, shot a crow, 
 
 And hung it up to dry; 
 
 All the boys began to laugh, 
 
 And Joe began to cry." 
 
 JOE was not cruel, though he shot 
 A depredating crow, 
 The fate of which was sealed when sped 
 The arrow from his bow. 
 
 He shot the crow because it stole 
 The grain raised by his toil, 
 
 And was resolved to put an end 
 To any further spoil. 
 
 He placed the carcass on a pole 
 
 Conspicuously high, 
 That other crows might warning take. 
 
 And not the field come nigh. 
 
 89 
 
 :t^b^ 
 
Cf& 
 
 ^ 
 
 s 
 
 -*^^^^ 
 
 © 
 
 ¥^S3^&^: 
 
 /0£, THE CROW-KILLER. 
 
 His playmates young did not discern 
 
 The end he had in view, 
 While they assembled near the pole 
 
 And round him closely drew. 
 
 They laughed at him, and then indulged 
 
 In unrestricted jeers ; 
 Poor Joe did not retort, but sought 
 
 Relief in sobs and tears. 
 
 He did not sharply answer them 
 
 And warlike power display. 
 But bore the taunts without a word, 
 
 Which was the better way. 
 
 Thus, when men laugh at us without 
 
 A reason for their sport, 
 'Tis well the folly should be theirs 
 
 And ours the good report. 
 
 90 
 
 'y^4MS^^ 
 
""5 
 
 The Cat and the Fiddle. 
 
 AN ASTRONOMIC STORY. 
 
 "Hey Diddle-diddle, 
 The Cat and the Fiddle, 
 The Cow jumped over the Moon; 
 The little Dog laughed to see such sport, 
 And the Dish ran away with the Spoon ! " 
 
 " There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are 
 dreamt of in your philosophy." — Shakspeare, 
 
 '' I ^HIS poem brief contains rare gems 
 
 -*- Of astronomic lore, 
 And tells of wondrous incidents 
 We never heard before. 
 
 The view of Lyra 'twas, perhaps, 
 
 The poet's bosom fired, 
 And him inclined to note events, 
 
 With melody inspired. 
 
■^•5*^^ 
 
 THE CAT AND THE FIDDLE 
 
 The fiddle's sound, not that of lyre, 
 
 E'er pleasure to us brings, 
 For of the viscus of the cat 
 
 Is made the music strings! 
 
 The stimulating power is in 
 
 The hair of horses found ; 
 For what are strings without the means 
 
 To wake the slumbering sound ? 
 
 As in the stellar family 
 
 Is found the winged horse, 
 The Fox and Goose, and Bear and Lion, 
 
 And Bull upon his course, 
 
 Why not the timid Cow appear 
 
 Amid the bright array, 
 Especially when all can see 
 
 There is a "milky way"! 
 
 And as a Dipper and a Cup 
 
 Are seen in starlight clear. 
 It is not strange to common sense 
 
 A Spoon and Dish appear! 
 
I 
 
 D 
 
 Vva) •2(t>.^<:,^r&~^: 
 
 TIl£ CAT AND THE FIDDLE. 
 
 No doubt a Dog shines in the sky, 
 Clothed with a greenish flame, 
 
 Familiar to astronomers, 
 And Sirius by name. 
 
 It wondrous seems a cow could spring 
 
 And overleap the moon, 
 And that a dish in sportiveness 
 
 Away should bear a spoon; 
 
 But with our optics we can't see. 
 
 With feelings of surprise, 
 Such things as the astronomer 
 
 Beheld with stronger eyes ; 
 
 And, too, the joyous canine notes. 
 Though to his ear-drum clear. 
 
 That came to him through telephone. 
 We could not hope to hear! 
 
 We must not doubt; events as strange 
 Have happened in our time, 
 
 And show how sudden is the chanee 
 From comic to sublime. 
 
 93 
 
 % 
 vp 
 
 I 
 
iiy THE CAT AND THE FIDDLE. 3"^^ 
 
 %> 
 
 i 
 
 We know that Venus sometimes has, 
 
 By natural, causes borne, 
 Queen Luna's realm approached, and sat 
 
 Upon her silver horn ! 
 
 And when the brief sojourn was o'er. 
 
 She slowly moved afar. 
 And thus passed o'er the pallid moon 
 
 That ever-brilliant star ! 
 
 Such incidents will e'er delifiht 
 
 o 
 
 The foolish and the wise. 
 For Nature is munificent 
 With all her vast supplies; 
 
 From tender plant to stately tree 
 
 Her beauties are arrayed, 
 With all the varied forms and fruits 
 
 And floral hues displayed; 
 
 From murmuring rill to ocean wild. 
 
 With streams that intervene, 
 And verdant vales and fertile plains 
 
 And mounts' majestic mien. 
 
 94 
 
 ^^^^iitJ^i^^t^'. 
 
m^^' 
 
 hQ 
 
 Wb^ 
 
 THE CAT AND THE FIDDLE. 
 
 The heavens with peace-inspiring power 
 
 Their wonders to us show 
 In stellar fires and tinted clouds 
 
 And covenantal bow ! 
 
 And in the sunlit vast expanse 
 
 Between the earth and sky, 
 Birds, like winged flowers, in joyousness 
 
 Their melody supply. 
 
 Though men may doubt, in self-conceit, 
 
 The Nursery story's truth, 
 It is not so with juveniles, 
 
 With unsuspecting youth. 
 
 If they believe such things occurred, 
 Rehearsed in language plain, 
 
 The annals which such pleasure give 
 Were not produced in vain ! 
 
 t 
 
 95 
 
 '*^^^^^^: