PS 3503 Class _rp2»:2L5J3^ Book .ATXiaZ^^ CopightN" ilDl_ COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. The Wolves of the Sea AND OTHER POEMS BY HERBERT BASHFORD .' '. \\ i { Author of "Songs From Puget Sea," "Nature Stories of the Northwest," etc. Sax Francisco THE WHITAKER & RAY COMPANY (INCORPORATED) igoi '•• • • THE LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. Two Copies Received 3UN 4 1903 :'\'C6p>'ieht Entry .'>i/Ccxc«^ 5- /^(73 CLASS ^ XXcNo. . .t, / X 3 o : . . COPY B. Copyright, 1901 BY HERBERT BASHFORD. TO MY WIFE. NOTE. Several of the poems contained in this little volume I have used with the kind permission of ''Frank Leslie's Monthly," " Ainslee's Maga- zine," "National Magazine," and the San Fran- cisco " Examiner." H. B. CONTENTS, PAGE. The Wolves of the Sea 9 The Song of the Forest Ranger 11 The Voice of Conquest 14 The Fisherman's Story 16 Why Santa Claus Forgot 25 The Russet-Backed Thrush 29 Children 2" The Suicide ^1 The Derelict ^^ COPALIS 36 The Wreck of the Ferndale 40 Mt. Rainier 45 To the Moon 46 Longing 47 Eventide 48 The Oregon Ruffed Grouse 49 Night ^'^ The Passing of Autumn ^1 On Xewbrasky's Fertile Shore -52 The Derndest Gal I Ever Knowed 58 Sence My Mary Went Away 61 Tiie "Wolves of tlie Sea, From dusk until dawn they are hurrying on, Unfettered and fearless they flee ; From morn until eve they plunder and thieve — The hungry, white wolves of the Sea 1 With never a rest, the}^ race to the west, To the Orient's rim do they run ; By the berg and the floe of the northland they go And away to the isles of the sun. They wail at the moon from the desolate dune Till the air has grown dank with their breath ; They snarl at the stars from the treacherous bars Of the coasts that are haunted by Death. 9 lo THE WOLVES OF THE SEA. They grapple and bite in a keen, mad delight As they feed on the bosom of Grief ; And one steals away to a cave with his prey, And one to the rocks of the reef. With the froth on their lips they follow the ships, Each striving to lead in the chase ; Since loosed by the hand of the King of their band They have known but the rush of the race. They are shaggy and old, yet as mighty and bold As when God's freshest gale set them free ; Not a sail is unfurled in a port of the world But is prey for the wolves of the Sea ! The Song' of the Forest Ranger. Oh, to feel the fresh breeze blowing From lone ridges yet untrod ! Oh, to see the far peak growing Whiter as it climbs to God ! Where the silver streamlet rushes I would follow — follow on Till I heard the happy thrushes Piping lyrics to the dawn. I would hear the wnld rejoicing Of the wind-blown cedar tree, Hear the sturdy hemlock voicing Ancient epics of the sea. THE SONG OF THE FOREST RANGER. Forest aisles would I be winding, Out be^^ond tlie gates of Care ; And, in dim cathedrals, finding Silence at the shrine of Prayer. When the mystic night comes stealing Through my vast, green room afar, Never king had richer ceiling — Bended bough and yellow star ! Ah, to list the sacred preaching Of the forest's faithful fir, With his strong arms upward reaching- Mighty, trustful worshipper ! Come and learn the joy of living! Come and 3^ou will understand How the sun his gold is giving With a great, impartial hand I THE SONG OF THE FOREST RANGER. 13 How the patient pine is climbing, Year by year to gain the sky ; How the rill makes sweetest rhyming, Where the deepest shadows lie. I am nearer the great Giver, Where His handiwork is crude ; Friend am I of peak and river, Comrade of old Solitude. Not for me the city's riot ! Not for me the towers of Trade ! I would seek the house of Quiet, That the Master Workman made ! THe Voice of Concftiest. I hew my pathway with the Sword ! Slay Peace and say I throttled Crime ! Ring round with flame the Savage Horde ! Weave crimson in the robe of Time ! With sabre stroke and thrust of lance I shake the regions of Content, And teach the hosts of Ignorance The sweetness of Enlightenment I I search for gold and gleaming gem, Seize fairest islands of the sea, Find simple folk and fling to them From cannon mouth — Humanity ! 14 THE VOICE OF CONQUEST. 15 I seek the realm where dullards dwell, I make each brutish weakling feel The good there is in shriek of shell, The blessings wrought by Fire and Steel. What matter if Death's pride be War, Or Weakness be the slave of Might ; Is Progress not a conqueror, And Power another name for Right ? What matter if I crush the free, Or if ten million men be slain ; Am I not lord of Destiny, The Anglo-Saxon god of Gain ? The Fisherman's Story, I knew he was morose that day Because he did not speak to me, But now I know he was away Upon the hills of Italy. He showed me once long months before The picture of a dark-eyed girl Within a locket that he wore — A little keepsake wrought of pearl. His life had knowm no counter gale, He had the aid of wind and tide, And dreamed that soon a snowy sail Should bear him to his future bride. i6 THE FISHERMA^N'S STORY. 17 ^Twas but a letter — nothing much — A scrap of paper sent to him, Yet something he did clutch and clutch The while his dusky eyes grew dim. And oh, how eagerly he scanned Each syllable that formed her name ! He crushed the letter in his hand And fed it to the driftwood flame. As in a dream he sat and stared At night's black pall around us flung ; I would have spoken if I'd dared, But Silence had a gentler tongue. He did not curse as men will do, Of grief he gave no outward sign ; That bitter draught of myrrh and rue He drank as though it had been wine. i8 THE FISHERMAN'S STORY. WitH joyless heart he crooned a song Of love and hope, as day by day We hauled our heavy seine along The pebbled beaches of the bay. At last— ah Christ, I'll not forget ! I never saw the like before ! An empty boat — we, chilled and wet. And ten leagues from our cabin door ! Ten weary leagues — a stormy row ! But fishermen know naught of fear ; Had we ere this not faced the snow When winter nights were dark and drear ? Had we not braved the Storm-king's glee When winds were shrill and waves were high, Been battered by a raging sea And swung below a ragged sk}^ ? THE FISHERMAN'S STORY. 19 " Oho ! Cheer up ! Cheer up !'' I cried, *^ We've dared the seas before, my mate. What matter if ill luck betide ? — Why, we were born to laugh at fate ! " He grasped his oar with one long sigh. Nor spoke he au}^ word to me ; And so together, he and I, Put out upon the angry sea. And side by side, with steady stroke, We fought against the veering flaw ; In flakes of froth the billows broke — The wildest wolves I ever saw ! Ah, how the cutting north wind blew. And in our faces dashed the spray ! The sullen twilight round us grew, The green shore faded into gray. 20 THE FISHERMAN'S STORY. ^' Cheer up ! Cheer up ! A merry row We'll have ere dawn of day ! " laughed I ; " And what care we how winds may blow ? " The Sea's voice only made reply. A silent man he left the shore, Nor yet a single word had said ; A silent man he dipped his oar As though it were a thing of lead. The night came down and still we toiled, The tumult fiercer grew, and now The swirling tide-rip foamed and boiled, And ghostly seas swept o'er the prow. The air was filled with flying spume, Cloud-galleons sailed down the sky. Strange forms groped toward us in the gloom. Pale phantoms glided swiftly by. THE FISHERMAN'S STORY Afar, at times, a lonely loon Sent quavering laughter through the night, While from a filmy sheath the moon Drew forth a sabre, keen and bright. Oh, it was weird ! — the seabird's screech, The distant buoy's warning bell, The white palms lifting high to reach A loosened star that downward fell ! Within my breast each moment grew A fear of more than wind-blown sea ; And lo ! that mute man, laughing, threw Aside his oar and leered at me. That moonlit face ! It haunts me still ! The eyes that spoke the maddened brain ! That moonlit face ! It sent a thrill Of terror through my every vein ! THE FISHERMAN'S STORY (( (( Aha! You thought me dead, you cur ! " His breath blew hot against my cheek ; Aha ! You coward, you lied to her ! " — I felt my limbs grow strangely weak. " Lorenzo ! Look ! The boat ! The boat ! "- But how can mad men understand ? My God! He leaped to clutch my throat, A wicked dagger in his hand ! That lifted knife ! Ah, yet I feel A horror of the deadly thing ! — The long keen blade of polished steel Against the white stars quivering. I upward sprang — I grasped somehow The hand that held the hilt of bone ; With panther strength he struggled now, A demon I must fight — alone ! THE FISHERMAN'S STORY. 23 He Strove to slay and I to save His life and mine if such might be, And in the trough and on the wave Like beasts we grappled savagely. To plead were vain ; I could not hear My voice above the tempest's breath, I only knew my feet were near The awful, icy edge of Death. We fought until the dark became A glare of crimson to my eyes, Until the stars were snakes of flame That writhed along the lurid skies. We fought I know not how — to me All things of that mad night appear As vague as when in dreams you see The ghouls that haunt the coast of Fear. 24 THE FISHERMAN'S STORY. We fought — we fought and then — and then — A leap — a cry — and he was gone ! And I alone pulled shoreward when The East had grown the flower of dawn. I knew he was morose that day Because he did not speak to me, But now I know he was away Upon the hills of Italy. IVhy Santa Claus Forgot, A wind from the south swept down the bay And pale with anger the waters turned As the ranchman's wife looked far away To where the lights of the city burned. Like feeble stars in that Christmas eve Were the pulsing lights beyond the tide ; " Now play with your dolly and do not grieve," Said she to the wee one at her side. *'Good Santa Claus will come to you This very night if you do not cry," And she wiped a tear like a drop of dew From the rosy cheek and the anxious eye. 25 26 WHY SANTA CLAUS FORGOT. " No sail ! No sail ! " and the sad wife pressed A wan face close to the window pane, But naught she saw save the sea's white breast And the long gray lash of the hissing rain. The night fell black and the wild gale played In the chimney's throat a shrill, weird tune, While into a cloud as if afraid Stole the ghostly form of the groping moon. Then the steeds of the sea all landward came, Each panting courser thundered o'er The rocks of the reef and died in flame Along the utmost reach of shore. Ah, heavy the heart of the ranchman's wife 1 And long she listened, yet only heard The voice of the breakers in awful strife And the plaintive cry of a frightened bird. WHY SANTA CLAUS FORGOT. 27 So long she waited and prayed for day As the firelight flickered upon the floor, While the prowling wind like a beast of prey Did growl and growl at the cabin door. The gray dawn crept through the weeping wood, The clouds set sail and all was still ; With a breast of gold the fair morn stood Above the firs of the eastern hill. The waters slept and the raindrops clung Like shimmering pearls to the maple tree ; The sky was clear and the brown birds flung Sweet showers of crystal melody. - A splintered mast and a tattered sail Lay out in the sun on the hard, brown sands And plainer than words they told a tale To the woman who wept and wrung her hands. 28 WHY SANTA CI.AUS FORGOT. And the little girl with the gold-crowned head Looked up with her tear-wet eyes of blue ; *' Oh, please don't cry, mamma," she said, ^' Old Santa Clans forgot me, too." The Russet-BacKed Ti\rusl\. He dwells where pine and hemlock grow, A merry minstrel seldom seen ; The voice of Joy is his I know — Shy poet of the Evergreen ! In dawn's first holy hnsh I hear His one ecstatic, thrilling strain. So sweet and strong, so crystal-clear 'Twould tingle e'en the soul of Pain. At close of day when Twilight dreams He shakes the air beneath his tree With such exquisite song it seems That Passion breathes through Melody. Within his shadow-world he sings Away from sun and light and bloom, For he alone it is that brings Keen rapture to the heart of Gloom. 29 CHIldren. Sweet flowers along Life's rugged slope All little children are to me — White blooms upon the hills of Hope That drink the dews of Purity. Tl\e Suicide. A wild, weird night it was ; tlie sharp, curved moon — A shining sabre hurled across the sky Cut through a beggared cloud ; beneath each tree Were shadows madly dancing to the high Shrill piping of the wind and to the beat Of barren limbs that ever writhed and swayed Above the frosty earth, above the form Of her who hastened onward undismayed, Who stood upon the cliff's huge brow of stone, With floating hair a raven banner blown 1 31 32 THE SUICIDE. Loud roared the sea below and fierce he strove To scale that crag and climbed and surged and blew From hoarsely laughing lips great flakes of foam, Then in his awful strength reached up and drew Her close against his breast. The deep caves rang; The billows rose like mighty wings and seemed To fan the very stars so brightly did They burn ; the whole, vast ocean shone and gleamed With phosphorescent light — the pines upon The hill raised rugged arms and prayed for dawn ! THe Derelict, I am rolled and swung, I am rocked and flung, I am hammered and heaved and hurled, I am tossed and wheeled, I am blown and reeled And battered about the world. On the pushing tide I ride and ride Or loiter and loaf at ease, With never a care, though foul or fair, I follow the foaming seas. Men come not nigh when they pass me by For they fear me, everyone, As I cleave the gray of the dawning day Or drowse in the summer sun. 33 34 THE DERELICT. Past unknown isles, for miles and miles I wander awa}^ to where The iceberg lifts and the salt spray drifts In the freezing arctic air. I steal by the bars when the flame-winged stars Have swarmed in the upper blue And the glow and shine of the drenching brine Like white fire burns me through. I haunt as a ghost the rock-girt coast Where the bell-buo}^ loudly rings And the breakers leap to the mighty sweep Of the night-wind's sable wings. I shake and moan, I creak and groan, In the wrathful tempest when The old sea raves and digs deep graves For the jolly sailor men. THE DERELICT. 35 What matters time or what the clime To a vagrant of the sea ? To live or die, oh naught care I, There is no port for me 1 Copalis. High above the strong Pacific, rising solemnly and lone Looms the rugged rock, Copalis, like a moun- tain built of stone. Break the heavy waves against it, roaring through its caverns wide. Caverns worn by maddened waters and the moon- enchanted tide. All around are curling breakers, sifting spray and flying foam. Where the slim sea otter gambols and the gray gull has a home. All around is fierce commotion, pale forms reach- ing to the skies. Sounds of awful cannonading, haunting moans and battle cries. COPALIS. 37 Clinging to its cragg}^ summit, fastened down witH massive chains, Bathed in Summer's yellow sunshine, drenched in Winter's driving rains. Rests a low, quaint hut, the dwelling of the brave Copalis Jim — Rests the hut whose door is opened — opened never save by him. From this airy habitation keen black eyes peer on the seas, Raven locks are tossed and tangled in the sigh- ing ocean breeze. Night and morn he scans the billows marching grandly far below. Night and morn he sees the warriors with their helmets wrought of snow. Day by day he keeps his vigil caring naught for any man. Watching ever with the patience that the otter hunter can. Oft his swarthy face grows eager, oft his rifle darts its flame 38 COPALIS. And a dying creature struggles from that quick, unerring aim. Oft when midnight winds are calling in his mind sad thoughts arise, Thoughts of her who held him captive by the magic of her eyes. In his dreams she stands before him as she stood in days agone, Ere his heart had grown more hardened than the rock he dwells upon. And he hears her laughter ringing like the echoes of a lute Through the forest, still and sombre, down the vales of Quillayute. And again he sits beside her speaking tender words of love With the fragrant flowers surrounding and the waving green above. But the thunder of the breakers and the sea bird's piercing scream From the ledges, brown and jagged, break the vision of his dream. COPALIS. 39 All 1 Nawanda, false Nawanda, with your artless maiden grace, Think you never of your lover living in this lonely place ? He, whose fondest hopes you shattered, now a hermit, mute, alone, Far away on bleak Copalis, on a mountain built of stone. Tlie WrecK of tlie Ferndale. Hoarse with callit3g, pale with anger, From dim dawn till set of sun Wind-blown billows, crowding landward, Shook the shores of Washington. Stalwart seas tramped down the beaches, Giant seas, each thunder-toned, Lunged against the rugged headlands While the mighty caverns groaned. Roared along the sandy beaches. Foaming, panting in the race, Struck the cliff's opposing ledges. Leaped to smJte its massive face. 40 THE WRECK OF THE FERNDAI^E. 41 Leaped and flung their white arms wildly Then, all baffled, backward fled Moaning, sobbing on the shingle Like a mother o'er her dead. Night fell black upon the waters, Night with no star throbbing through ; Fiercer 3^et the waters battled, Stronger still the cold wind blew. Every pine upon the hilltop Cried in anguish, cried in vain. And the ranchman's wife peered seaward With her face against the pane. Heard the waves' loud cannonading, Saw at times a lifting light — Fiery soul of sky-tossed breaker Burning through the raven night. 42 THE WRECK OF THE FERNDALE. Listened sadly at the window Thinking of the ships at sea, Of wrecked sailors drifting helpless, And the Storm-king's fiendish glee. Hark ! What sound above the breakers ?■ Was it but the sudden shock Of a seething sea bombarding Towering battlements of rock ? Was it but the crashing thunder Of a fir tree's rugged form ; Of a fir tree that had fallen As it wrestled with the storm ? No, ah, no ! Again the gun spoke And the ranchman's wife grew pale ; " God have mercy on a vessel Driven shoreward by the gale ! " THE WRECK OF THE FERNDALE. 43 *' God above have mercy on them 1 He alone can still the waves ! " " Hear them calling ! " " They will perish ! " " How the ocean roars and raves ! " Thns spake trembling, care-worn women, Sturdy ranchmen, young and old, As they gathered on the North Beach In the darkness and the cold. All the night their lanterns glimmered In the wild wind's icy breath, While the surf grew thick with cordage And the breakers talked of death. All the night they watched and waited Where the hoary foam-flakes flew ; One by one along the North Beach Drifted in the Ferndale's crew. 44 THE WRECK OF THE FERNDAI.E. One by one they drifted lifeless To the bleak Pacific sands, Salt tears on their pallid faces, Sea-weeds in their hardened hands, Eyes of pity looked upon them, Looked npon them where they lay, As the morn came softly stealing — Saddened morn in robe of gray. And above the heaving waters In the daybreak, chill and grim. One lone mast yet pointed upward — Pointed upward unto Him. Mt. Rainier. lyike autumn leaves the years may fall upon . His brow from off the ancient tree of Time, Yet will he tower above the dust and grime Of earth ! The first pink petals of the dawn That bloomed into the flower of day ; the wan And hesitating moon's first skyward climb He viewed in silent majesty sublime ; The fir proclaims him king, the great seas fawn And weave fair garlands at his feet ; each stream Salutes with flashing sword; the wildest storm That beats against his massive breast ne'er mars The deep serenity of his white dream. At night how vaguely grim his awful form, High-looming in God's wilderness of stars ! 45 To tHe Moon, Oh, ever changeful and enchanting moon ! What mystical and varied forms are thine ! Tonight a peerless queen I see thee shine In raiment from the loom of Dreams ; yet soon When skies grow gray and chill winds pipe a tune, A ghost thou'l't grope beside the battle-line Of dark cloud-legions, or, in anguish, pine Upon the heated highway of red Noon, Or, wan and careworn, long for quick release From weary journe3-s through the deeps of night ; Then, calm as Sleep, wilt thou appear to me, Thy glowing bosom soft and white with peace, As though to thee had flown on wings of light The myriad souls of each gray century 1 46 Lonalna', In city walls, where duty bids me stay I long for woodland paths — sweet breath of pine, To see again the distant dazzling line Of slender, sandy shore ; I know to-day How fair must lie the sea far, far awa}^ On whose broad breast the sun-wrought sap- phires shine And sparkle in the wind that breathes of wine ; How shafts of gold and shifting shadows play Beneath cool groves that sing a slumber song, And clear bird notes are tingling through and through The peaceful heart of Silence ! Ah, I long For friendly firs that brush against the blue And each still night to watch the warrior Mars Review the vast procession of the stars ! 47 E'Ventide, The garish day is done, and faint and far Like jagged shadows all the mountains lie — White priests that saw the red sun sink and die; Leaf-hidden birds where willow clusters are Fling down sweet showers of melody ; a bar Of burnished gold from sunset's forge hangs high Above the hills and in the purple sky Beyond, the twilight grows one yellow star. Along some distant lane the cattle go With bells that sound like music heard in dreams Of years agone ; the moon with soul of light Now crowns God's highest pyramid of snow, While from dim ponds and softly flowing streams Ring out the rhyming minstrels of the night ! 48 Tlie Oregon Riiffed Grouse. A lover of dim ways in woodland shade Is he, whose martial music, shakes the still Cool air where lilies drowse and silver rill Alone draws light adown the gloomy glade; Where, deep within the hush, dank moss is laid That Solitude may rove from hill to hill With soundless tread, and where no bird's glad trill Ere breaks the iron silence God has made. To haunt sequestered dells is his delight Beneath low-drooping boughs that shadow all The dreamy pools; and when, care-worn, we come To where the wilderness makes of the night A dusky slave forever held in thrall. How sweet to hear the throbbing of his drum ! 49 Night, Beloved Night ! Calm, soothing summer Night ! Your presence breathes of peace ; your raven hair Falls over me and tender as the prayer Of kneeling virgin in dawn's hol}^ light Is your carressing hand on Sorrow's white And trembling lips, or furrowed face of Care. Sweet slumber nestles on your breast and where Your dark robe trails, in valley or on height, The petals of your dream-flowers flutter down To sleeping eyes. I love j^ou, love 3'ou so, IMother of mine ! And when the day is done I watch to see the first gleam in 3^our gown Of lambent jewels that thrill and throb as though The pulse of God beat through them — every- one ! 50 The Passing of A\it\iinn, The glory of her reign is o'er and old, forlorn, A faded, tattered gown around her drawn She sits with drooping head and broods upon The time ere her rich robes were rudely torn And cast aside ; a beggar, wear}', worn Is she, whose garments like a gorgeous dawn Once la}' along the hills ; her pride is gone And naught is left her but to mourn and mourn Amid her ruins. Oft there comes to me From out the wood her low, despairing wail When thoughts of that imperial attire Of other days bring keener agou}^, When all exultant she heard nation's hail The queen of Color with her soul of fire. 51 On Ne^'^brasKy's Fertile Siiore, Oh, I am so orful humsick! An' I feel so wretcHed queer! Eplirum, lie has gone a ridin' on a wild eclectric keer, Rhody — that's my only darter — she has gone an' left me, tew, Both a trapesin' 'round like ijits — wonder what's th' next they'll do ? They don't seem t' think they're darin' Provi- dence right in th' face, Ridin' without hoss er engine 'n' goin' at a break neck pace. Course I needn't stand here waitin', both insisted I should come, But I vow I'll not be reckless when I am so fer from hum. 52 ON NEWBRASKY'S FERTILE SHORE. 53 Clear out here by th' Pacific, jist as fur as we kin git An' if we stay here much longer I declare I'll hev a fit. It's th' most deceivin' kentry as ever' one'll say Ever' drap o' water salty in th' hull o' Frisco bay. Oh I've tramped these pesky sidewalks till my feet is lame an' sore, An' a yearnin' ever' minute fur Newbrasky's fertile shore ! Then they brag about their scenery! Californy ! Humph ! O dear ! Scenery! Well, jest speaking plainly, I don't see no scenery here. Nothin' but th' mount'in ranges rarin' up so tarnal high Thet a buddy kint look nowheres 'cept the mid- dle o' th' sky. Mount'ins, everlastin' mount'ins, hills 'n' woods 'n' rocks 'n' snow 54 ON NEWBRASKY'S FERTILE SHORE. Where th' scenery is they're braggin' on I^m th' one as wants t' know. Let 'em. stand in Lincoln county jest aback our cowyard fence, An' if they don't say there's scenery they haint got a mite o' sense ; Why yuh kin look fur miles around yuh an' see nothin' but th' flat Level prairie in th' sunshine kivered in its grassy mat. That is scenery — yuh kin look there jest as fur as yuh kin see With no hills a interposin' er no rocks, er airy tree, Oh, I've told my husband, Ephrum, that I'd gallavant no more When ag'in I'd sot my foot on old Newbrasky's fertile shore. Then I'm worried so 'bout Rhody, fur she's missin' ever' day ON NKWBRASKY'S FERTII.E SHORE. 55 All her lessons on th' melojun that paw bought fur her last May, An' she could perform amazin'; she could play " Old Hundred " nice An' another song beginin' ''Happy Day that Fixed My Ch'ice." Yes, th' singin' teacher told me as we parted at th' keers, He was shore she'd play th' organ in th' church 'fore many years. Now her notion's highkerflutin', a planner she wants now An' her paw sez he will get it soon as he kin sell a cow, Sez he kin dispose o' Muly — I jest told him no sir e-e Not fur no new-fangled nonsense — Muly's my cow, an' you see He's jest got a spite ag'in her 'cause she's got a lengthy tail An' in fightin' skeeters sometimes whisks it in th' mil kin' pail. LofC. 56 ON NEWBRASKY'S FERTILE SHORE. Oh, I'll be the gladdest mortal when I reach th' kitchen door Of that dear old farmhouse standin' on New- brasky's fertile shore ! No, I don't enjoy th' city where the wimmen folks is dressed Monday an' clean through till Saturday all in their Sunday best, I jest like to ketch my wrapper up 'n' pin it 'round my waist, Carin' not a single copper if my shoe string comes unlaced, Then go out an' milk old Mul}^ an' turn out th' spotted calf While th' chickens giggle 'round me an' th' speckled roosters laff, Then go in th' summer kitchen, set me down an' churn a spell, Till time comes t' put th' victuals on an' ring th' dinner bell. ON NEWBRASKY'S FERTILE SHORE. 57 Yes I love th' peaceful quiet olth' farm where it's so still, Nothin' but th' ducks a quackin' 'n' pigs a squealin' fur their swill, Nothin' but th' geese a clackin' 'n' the bawlin* o' th' cows, An' th' nickerin' o' th' bosses as they're comin' t' th' house. Oh I want t' leave th' city with its racket an' its roar An' git back there t' the silence o' Newbrasky's fertile shore! Derndest Gal I E^ver Kno^wed Derndest gal I ever knowed, Neatest gal I ever seen, Lived down in the Red Ravine Jest below the county road. Guess she wuz about sixteen — Sophy wuz her name an' she Wuz ez cute ez cute kin be. When I'd go t' town I brung Her the biggest lot o' stuff, Pop corn, likrish, 'n' enough Candy fer t' fill a room. Once she hit me with a broom Cuz I kissed her on the cheek. An' the midget wouldn't speak T' me fer, perhaps, a week. 58 DERNDEST GAL I EVER KNOWED. 59 When I'd raise my eyes to hern Jeminny! my cheeks 'ud burn An' git redder 'n' a beet. Oh, she looked jest powerful sweet! When I'd try to call her dear Why I'd feel so doggoned queer That I'd lean ag'in' th' fence Zif I didn' hev no sense Twist th' buttons on my vest, Ast her who she liked th' best, Ast her if it wuzn't Bill Er old Jones thet run th' mill, Keep a hintin' 'round yuh see Till she'd up an' say 'twuz me. I wuz jellus o' Jim Pike Jellus ez th' very deuce Though there didn't seem much use Fer his freckles wuz so thick. An' his hair wuz so like brick Thet a feller one day said Yuh could toast a hunk o' bread 6o DERNDEST GAL I EVER KNOWED. Ef yuh'd hold it nigli his head. He wuz awkarder 'n' sin, Never fished along the crick But he'd hev t' tumble in. Sophy 'peared t' pity Jim While I thought if I wuz him I'd go off 'n' hide somewhere Else put plaster on my hair. But this homely, lantern-jawed Lookin' cuss stood 'round 'n' chawed On a plug o' terbacker Half his time 'n' talked t' her Of his love till I jest told Him t' mosey an' he rolled Up his sleeves 'n' landed me Plumb betwixt th' e3^es, then he Went to Sophy an' sir, she Married him ! The pesky mule ! Wuzn't she a reg'ler fool ? I wuz jest tetotally bio wed — Derndest gal I ever know^ed ! Sence My Mary Went A-way, Ah sir! You should just have seen her, Seen her long and silky hair Shinin' like a shock o' sunbeams Wavin' in the summer air ! Then her cheeks seemed bloomin' roses, An' her fingers — don't yuh know — They was white as maple branches Wrapped around by winter's snow. Eyes so big an' blue an' honest Alius gazin' int' mine, An' a heart that never faltered Whether rain or whether shine. Cheerful words for ev'r'body, Smilin' all the livelong day. Do yuh wonder that I'm lonely Sence my Mary went av/ay ? 6i 62 SENCE MY MARY WENT AWAY. I remember how we used to On them sunny afternoons Stroll together down the woodland Listenin' t' th' merry tunes Played by little, jolly breezes Foolin' 'mong the tree tops high, An' she thought that river y under Was a strip o' fallen sky. Course its only my odd fancy Anyhow it strikes me so, Thet things now haint half so cheery As they was a year ago. The trees air green, its mighty sartin But to me the^^'re alius gray An' the birds seem sorter silent Sence my Mary went away. SENCE MY MARY WENT AWAY. 63 Why th' pathway down th' valley Where we wandered hand in hand Is to-day a sorter gloomy one I kint quite understand, Then the crick thet giggled softly, Shook itself 'n' run along Now goes slippin' past the willers With an orful solemn song. Them old hills, too — eh ! Yer goin' ? Sorry t' hev kept yuh here. Good by ! Strange th' air looks misty ! — Mebby — why — 'twas just a tear ! Like as not j^ou think me foolish An' don't keer for what I say, But I feel, oh God, so lonesome Sence my Mary went away ! The Western Series of Readers EDITED BY HARR WAGNER Designed £;specially for Supplementary Work in HISTORY AND NATURE STUDY In Our Public Schools All Fully and Beautifully Illustrated. Each Volume Contains from Eighteen to Twenty-Six Full-Page Pictures. EXTENSIVELY ADOPTED AND USED IN THE SCHOOLS OF THE PACIFIC COAST VOL. I PACIFIC HISTORY STORIES By HARR WAGNER Fop Fourth and Fifth Grades During the short time that this book has been on the market its sale has been phenomenal. It is pronounced, by ail of our leading educators, to be excellently adapted to the work for which it was intended— a supplementary reader in history study in the Fourth and Fifth Grades. Fully two thirds of the counties in California have this book on their supplementary and library list. VOL. il PACIFIC NATURE STORIES By HARR WAGNER and DAVID S. JORDAN and others For Fourth and Fifth Grades A companion volume to the above. It contains some eighteen most interesting and instructive sketches of our Western animal and vegetable life, all told in a delightfully flowing style and written by the greatest educators of the West. As a reading book in nature study it cannot be excelled. VOL. Ill NATURE STORIES OF THE NORTHWEST By HERBERT BASHFORD State Ivibrarian of Washington Fop Sixth and Seventh Grades This book covers a more extended field than Volume II, and is not strictly confined to the Northwest. Among the interesting stories will be found those of The Black Bear, The Kingfisher, The Clam, The Meadowlark, The Seals, etc., all of which are of interest to any pupil in the West. The illustrations are works of art and true to nature. VOL. IV TALES OF DISCOVERY ON THE PACIFIC SLOPE By MARGARET GRAHAM HOOD For ThiPd and Fourth Grades The Tale of History could not be more charmingly told than it is in this volume, which is intended for the lower grades. A Third or Fourth Grade pupil will read it easily, and with interest. Its eight chapters are devoted to the early history of our great Western empire, and tell of characters and events, but little touched upon by the general school history. The child here acquires a taste that leads him to further research. VOL. V ■ TALES OF OUR NEW POSSESSIONS, THE PHILIPPINES Written by R. VAN BERGEN A Thirty-Year resident of the Orient Author of "Story of Japan," Etc. Illustrated by P. N. BOERINGER War Artist Correspondent at Manila for San Francisco Papers For the Sixth, Seventh and Eighth Grades A timely book for the young. We employed to write this volume, a man whose thirty-year residence in' the Orient made him thoroughly familiar with the people and their customs. Its thirty- eight chapters, all richly illustrated by the best arti:jt we could secure, will give the pupil an excellent idea of our new country— a knowledge which will prove of great financial value to him. VOL. VI STORIES OF OUR MOTHER EARTH By HAROLD W. FAIRBANKS. Ph. D. Illustrated by MARY H. WELLMAN With 27 Full Page Illustrations. An Intensely In- teresting and Instructive Work on Nature Study For the Sixth and Seventh Grades Can the bcudy of Geology be made interesting to the young? It certainly can when written in the style of this book. It contains some thirty-eight chapters, every one laden with knowledge but all reading like a story book. The chapters on The Yosetnitc Valley, The San Francisco Bay and The Colorado River in themselves alone warrant the purchase of the book. Complete Descriptive Circular, giving contents of each volume, testimonials, etc., sent on application. PRICES— School Edition, Bound in Board, I,eather Back, Net 50 cents lyibrary Edition, Boundin Cloth, Net 60 cents PUBLISHED BY twe: \?vh:ixak:er & ray co. fas MARKET STREET, SAN FRANCISCO. FOUR QRE/IT BOOKS By Western Authors PtTBIilSHED BT THE WHITAKER & RAY CO. 723 Market St., San Francisco JOAQUIN MILLER'S COMPLETE POEMS Eight Volumts in One: Including— *«Songs of the Sierras*' "Songs of Sunland" "Songs of Italy" "Songs of the Soul" «'Songs of the Mexican Seas" "Classic Shades" "Olive Leaves" "Joaquin" et al. Price, Library Edition , postpaid I2.50 Price, Gift Edition, I^eather 4-5o BY DAVID STARR JORDAN President Iceland vStanford, Jr. University ^^CARE AND CULTURE OF MEN'^ Price, Cloth, postpaid |1.50 Price, Half Levant, postpaid 3.50 '1VIATKA AND KOTIK^' An Allkgory of the Fur Seal. Profusely Illustrated Special School Edition, net $0.75 Price, Cloth, postpaid 1.5fl Price, Half L,evaut postpaid 3.5fl *^The Stoty of the Innumerable Company And Other Sketches. Illustrated Price, Cloth, postpaid $1.25 Price, Half I,evant, postpaid 3.50 One Set of Jordan, 3 Vols, in box. Cloth, postpaid $ 4.00 One Set of Jordan, 3 Vols, in box, half IvCvant, postpaid. 10.00 MISCELLANEOUS LIBRARY BOOKS Sugar PineMurmurlngs, by Rliz. s. Wilson $1 00 Adventures of a Tenderfoot, by H. H. Sauber 1 00 The Main Points, by Rev. C. R. Brown 1 25 Life, by Hon. John R. Rogers 1 00 Lyrics Of the Golden West, by Rev. w. D.Crabb 1 00 SongSofPuget Sea, by Herbert Bashford 1 00 Dr. Jones' Picnic, by Ur. S. E. Chapman 1 00 A Modern Argonaut, by Leela B. Davis 1 00 Percy or the Four Inseparables, by M. I.ee............. ■■• 1 00 Personal Impressions of the Grand Canyon of the Colorado l 50 Some Homely Little Songs, by Alfred James Waterhouse 1 25 Forget-me-nots, by Lillian r^eslie PaKC. Illuminated paper cover 50 Guide to Mexico, by Christobal Hidalgo 100 ^ Seod fof Complete Descriptive Portrait Circular of Our Western PublicatioM Text. Supplementary AND. Library Books Elementapy Exercises in Botany, by Prof. Volney Rattan $0 75 Key to West Coast Botany, by Prof. Rattan 1 00 Complete Botany (above, two in one Volume) 1 50 New Essentials of Bookkeeping, by Prof. c. w. chiids Net 75 Topical Analysis of U. S. History, by Prof. C. w. Childs l 00 Heart Culture, I^essons in Humane Education, by Emma E. Page 75 Spanish in Spanish, by l^uisDuque Net 1 25 Patriotic Quotations, by Harr Wagner 40 Key to State Advanced Arithmetic, by a. M. Armstrong 1 00 New Manual of Shorthand, by a. j. Marsh Net 1 25 Studies in Entomology, by H. M. Bland 75 Algebraic Solutions of Equations, by Andre & Buchanan, Net 80 Study of the Kindergarten Problem, by Fred'k h. Burk 50 Orthoepy and Spelling, by John W.Imes, (4 parts each) 20 Toyon— A book of Holiday Selections, by AUie M. Felker Paper, 36c. Board, GOc. Cloth 100 Supplement to State History, by Harr Wagner 26 Matka, a Tale of the Mist Islands, by David Starr Jordan (Schooled) 75 Educational Questions, by W.C.Doub 1 00 Lessons in Language Work, by Belle Frazee Net 50 WESTERN SERIES OF PAPER BOOKS No. 1. Songs of the Soul, by Joaquin Miller 26 No. 2. Dr. Jones' Picnic, by Dr. S, I?. Chapman 25 No. 3. Modern Argonaut, by l.eela B. Davis 26 No. 4. How to Celebrate Holiday Occasions— Compiled 25 No. 5. Patriotic Quotations 26 WESTERN LITERATURE SERIES No. 1. Readings from California Poets, by Edmund Russell Paper, 25c. Board 46 WESTERN SERIES OF BOOKLETS No. 1. California and the Californians, by David Starr Jordan 25 No. 2. Love and Law, by Thos. P. Bailey 25 No. 3. The Man Who Might Have Been, by Robert Whitaker 25 No. 4. Chants for the Boer, by Joaquin Miller 25 No. 5. Toil, Poems by D. F. I^eary 26 WESTERN EDUCATIONAL HELPS No. 1. ClvilGovernmentSimplifled,by J. J. Duvall 25 Mo. 2. An Aid in the Study and Teaching of Lady of the Lake, Evangeline, and Merchant of Venice, by J. W. Graham 25 Mo. 3. Grammar by the Inductive Method, by w. C. Doub.. 25 JUN 4 1903