l^ Class ^-^jV/cT.^^ Book X_51^4 fmiyrij^htN" I901 COPYRIGHT DEPOSITS SONGS IN Merry Mood BY ROBERT L. PEMBERTON ORACLE PRESS ST. MARYS, WEST ViRGINIA 1907 L!ZRftflYofCOt«GRESs[ Two Cooles Rwertved AUG 18 1907 Ccpyrifht Entry CLASS A XXC, No, CO FY U. COPYRIGHT 1907 BY ROBT. L PEMBERTON TO THE MEMORY OF MY FATHER CONTENTS It Is To Lau^H To John S. Hall . Christmas Secrecy Saturday Evening Knee Deep Virelai The Choice The Man in the Ditch Boys Again The Woodland The Summer Girl The Common Cause The Teamster's Song Unconquered A Contrast Doctor Cupid Will Love Grov^ Cold? Recreation An English Primrose Telepathy An Old Timer Cupid's Mistake Reta We '11 Vanquish Time With Sunny Days Beauty and Sympathy A Boy Without a Knife Tommy and Jane Winter Sunshine In December Wishes . Longings 7 9 II 13 14 15 17 23 30 32 33 36 38 39 40 42 43 44 46 48 49 52 53 54 56 58 59 62 63 64 65 67 CONTENTS- (CONTINUED) The Conflict 69 Fate 71 The Call of the Phone 73 Progress .... . 75 Pessimist and Optimist 77 Get the Best . 80 The Student 82 The Awakening . 83 Song of the Gripped 85 Catching the Train . 87 The Carnival . . . 89 Evening on the River . 91 The West Virginia Banana 92 The Catbird . 94 The Passing of Summer 95 The Game .... . 97 A Suspension of Hostilities 98 The Night-Blooming Cereus . . 103 Peace .... 104 While Silver Clinks . 105 The Soul's Release . 106 Cordelia .... . 107 November 108 A Valentine . 109 Courage! no Jack Kirby's Coon . Ill Rubaiyat of the Turkey 122 Nimrod .... . 125 Preserved Sunshine 126 A Fantasy .... . . 127 Nothing in Vain 128 IT IS TO LAUGH GRANT me, O Muse, the power to sing The simpler songs of life, To cheer the heart distressed, and bring The soul away from strife ; To move humanity to quaff The nectar of a childish laugh. I ask not for the royal gift Of epics sung to kings ; Nor yet the bristling mane to lift By sounding martial strings — *Twere cowardly to stand afar And urge one's brothers on to war. Nor yet the sorrowful refrain That draws the glistening tear ; The rankling of some ancient pain, The waking up of fear ; It were a churlish thing to do — To give the sky a darker hue. IT IS TO LAUGH Light-hearted as the happy bird Now singing on that bough ; A jest, a smile, a cheery word — This gift to me allow ; Word-pharmaceutist, if you will, To sugar-coat a harmless pill. rd rather have the world to smile Than look with sober eye ; Grant me the gift to cure the bile. To quash the mournful sigh. To strike the lighter strings of mirth And make a pleasant place of earth ! TO JOHN S. HALL TO JOHN S. HALL TV^ ORE than a score of winters, John, i V Have come and passed away Since first we knew our friendship true. One blust'ry winter day ; And calling up the hours we've spent In argument together. It seems as if they were besprent With that same blust'ry weather. With heads hot as the coal-fire, John, By which we loved to sit. Yet bitter word was never heard. And never heart was hit ; Our fancies, sometimes spun out fine. Swept freely as the gale ; You ve held your own, and I ve held mine, In argument and tale. We 've sat until cock-crowing, John, In many a stubborn fight. You holding strong you were not wrong, And I sure I was right; 10 TO JOHN S. HALL The blue smoke rolled above our heads As on a battle field, And fighting still, we sought our beds, For neither point would yield. And such should friendship be, John — A tether not too tight, So both may feed where they have need And question neither's right ; So both can meet oi common ground. Yet each may go his way ; And that's the friendship that we found Upon that blust'ry day. CHRISTMAS SECRECY CHRISTMAS SECRECY ALL our folks is actm' queer Now that Christmas 'most is here, Dodgin' here an' hidin' there — Lots of mist'ry in the air. Pop slips slyly in the house, Jes' as quiet as a mouse, Goes upstairs with cat-Lke tread. Hides a box beneath the bed. Then comes down a-lookin' calm — Innercent as any lamb. Mam she comes up from the store. Then stays watchin' at the door. Till the 'livery wagon brings To the house a lot o' things; Then she hides 'em safe an' sound, Som'ers where they can't be found. Sis does like the grown-ups do — She is hidin' somethin' too ; Workin' things in yarn, you know ; Mebbe slippers for her beau. For she sings an' looks so gay — Never minds the cKaff I say. 12 CHRISTMAS SECRECY An' I'm hidin', like the rest, Somethin' down behind the chest. Don't want Pop to find it yet — Least, till Santy's come, you bet ! Guess what's down behind the chest ? Well, you never would 'ave guessed ! Pop's silk hat ! He left it there, Settin' on a parlor chair. When I went to set down, too. Gee ! I thought I's goin' through ! That hat was an awful sight ! Tried my best to make it right. But I couldn't smooth a crook ! 'T had a concertina look. So I folded it up tight, An' I hid it out o' sight. Pop will be surprised when he Finds that hat —He '11 give it me ! Gee, but things is awful blue. An' it's almost Christmas, too ! Lot's o' myst'ry in the air — Secrets round me everywhere. An' you bet, I've got my share ! SATURDAY EVENING 13 SATURDAY EVENING I GO down town on Sat'day night, With wife an' children three, When all the shops is shinin' bright. An' there is lots to see ; It's jest like walkin' through a fair, So many pretty things is there. An' people throngin' everywhere, On Sat'day, after tea. An' I am happy as a king. As happy as can be. For in my pocket dollars ring, An' all belong to me — To me an' to my good wife true. The children own a portion, too. An' so we are a jolly crew. On Sat'day, after tea. To toy shop an' to candy store We have a silver key ; An' every merchant swings his door So we can enter free ; An' all the men of every land Have put their goods at our command, An' that's why we're a happy band. On Sat'day, after tea. 14 KNEE DEEP KNEE DEEP THE sunbeams were cheery, the atmosphere warm, And slumbering froggies awoke to the charm ; Their very tails tingling with fresh, pulsing blood, They struggled and broke through the thick bonds of mud And took their first bath, after long winter's sleep ; Their voices hilarious. In notes somewhat various, Declared that the water was only knee deep ! "Knee deep ! Knee deep ! Knee deep ! It's fine to wake up from your sleep And find that it's Spring ! And that's why we sing In water that's only knee deep !" But lo ! From the north came a great cloud of snow That scattered its burden quite thickly below ; And back came Jack Frost with a grin on his face, And over the swamp began froggies to chase ! VIRELAI 15 The poor little songsters, too chilly to creep Lay huddled and shivering, Yet still, in notes quivering. Declared that the snow would be only knee deep ! "Knee deep ! Knee deep ! Knee deep !" But down came the flakes in a heap. And far, far below, All covered with snow. They're dreaming it's only knee deep ! VIRELAI I MET when sad — Stung by the gad Of Care, and mad With weariness, A maid in plaid. Who flowers had, And she was glad To joyfulness. With sweet caress To me did press And made confess The flowers were fair 16 VIRELAI Her cheerfulness Drove out Distress And gave egress To carking Care. Novv^ grim Despair No longer dare My bosom share, For she is Qyeen ; And she vv^ill vv^ear, Bound in her hair, Carnations rare As e'er were seen. So in the sheen Of skies serene. The soul may wean Itself from dread ; And Love may glean The harvests clean. Where sickles keen Missed many a head. THE CHOICE 17 THE CHOICE ONE summer morn, when Nature's various parts Vied in their powers to please, forth from the marts Into the quiet woods, young Edwin strode, Hoping to find the peace that there abode. To lose himself a moment from the strife, To cool the fever of an ardent life. Crossing a meadow where a brooklet played At hide and seek in fringing willows' shade, A time, with hat in hand, he walked the bank, The while his very soul of Nature drank : For never had the earth such beauty borne As he beheld upon that summer morn. Then, coming to a spot of richer green. Where served a glossy haw-bush for a screen. Full length upon the grass he idly lay, And yielded wholly unio Nature's sway. The varied voices of inquiring birds. The hun of bees, like murmured, half-spoke words, The tinkling of the brooklet's wee cascade. The rustle of the leaves by zephyr swayed — 18 THE CHOICE With these soft sounds the genie of the stream On the recumbent youth did gently creep. And bore him captive to the realm of sleep, Where there befel him this prophetic dream : Before him lay a lake — a shining sheet Of highly polished silver, which did meet Its verdant marge unbroken by a wave ; If life it had, no sign of life it gave. Upon its bosom lay an islet green. Whence sweetly called the voice of one unseen, Bidding him come ; without a thought or care, Impelled as by an essence wondrous rare. He forward ran, the lucid lake to try. When, lo ! a boat upon the edge did lie, hi silken sail well set ; its curved prow Adorned with jewels that would grace the brow Oi fairest queen ; the bulwarks edged with gold ; And at the helm, a steersman, bearded, old. Into the bark he leaped. "O Helmsman, guide Thy golden boat across this silver tide Unto yon islet's shore !" Whereat the sail Was filled, the bow was turned, and soon a trail Of snowy bubbles marked the arrowy flight. Dancing, like spirits freed, with wild delight. Unto the silent Helmsman Edwin turned : "If thou aught of this mystery hath learned. And knowing, may'st disclose, I pray thee, tell What unknown creatures on that islet dwell, THE CHOICE 19 And why they call me thither? For I feel Upon this voyage hangs my woe or weal." Then parting with his hand the hoary beard That screened his lips, thus answered he who steered: "I may not tell thee all, O gentle youth. But thus much may I hazard : In good sooth, On yonder islet are man's virtues weighed, And by their worth his destiny is made." Thus having spoken, on the farther shore He fixed his gaze, nor would he utter more. So motionless he sat, it seemed as he Were portion of the boat, carved by some free And daring hand, that gave him ease and strength. But left him without soul ; and when at length The light keel grated on the island's strand His features changed not. Edwin to the sand Leaped quickly, and as quickly turned to lend A helping hand unto his aged friend. To moor the craft, or start it out anew — But lo ! both man and boat had gone from view ! Much marveling on this, some time he stood In fixed abstraction, till his musing mood Was broken by the Voice, giving command To hasten ; so he crossed the little strand To thread the shady grove ; but vine and tree Were thickly woven ; he could even see. While vainly looking for an opening. Buds bursting into shoots, and green shoots spring 20 THE CHOICE Into great limbs, and tender vines grow old, As if a score of years had o'er them rolled. Again the strange Voice called, but fainter now ; He heard, and with a frown upon his brow He forward leaped, outstretching knotted arms To force an entrance spite of spells or charms. But ere his hand could touch the foremost spray, The thick growth parted, and before him lay A path as clear and fresh as new-mown mead. On which he strode, his heart from trouble freed, And gaily beating time unto the song That issued from the throats of feathered throng. Some distance walked he, till anon the lane With widening vista broke upon a plain. In which there stood a castle, grim and gray, Stout-walled and turreted, while round it lay A brimming moat ; and from its topmost tower A gilded banner spoke of pomp and power. And as, astonished, he did stand and stare, For little had he thought of castle there In midst of such an Eden, came the sound Of creaking chains that on a windlass wound ; The barred portcullis swung to greatest height. And o'er the bridge rode forth a full-armed knight. His visor down, his ponderous lance firm held, Straight to the youth his charger he compelled ; No word he gave, no trumpet's waming blare, But sought to take his foe all unaware. THE CHOICE 21 With paling lips, but stern-contracted brow, Young Edwin drew his sword, resolved that now, Let hap what might, the odds however great. With courage he would meet his coming fate : Yet murmured he a prayer unto his Lord For strength of arm to wield the ready sword. But scarcely had he placed himself on guard, When horse and rider dropped upon the sward! Amazed, the youth sprang forward to his foe. And straight unclasped his helm, anxious to know What hurt he had, and give him help, if need : For still his tender heart for foes could bleed. A ghastly face he saw, as if 't had lain In burial vault, all covered with the stain Of damp and death ; drawn out of human form. And only fit for the destroying worm ; And while he looked, the hollows deeper wore. The visage shrank, and soon it was no more ! While wondering yet upon this strange event. He rose, and towards the lordly castle went; But now there c£ime weird noises all around, Like myriad locusts, or continuous sound Of mighty cataract, and through it all Shrill, threatening voices seemed his name to call. All suddenly the light of day died out ; He felt winged creatures, as they flew about. Brush in his face ; around his stumbling feet He felt the clammy coils of serpents meet ; And terror almost siezed him, when once more He heard that clear Voice calling as before ; 22 THE CHOICE And though the imps within that hellish throng Caught up the cry and mimicked it, yet strong Became his heart, and gasping a reply. He clinched his hands, and strode on manfully. Then was the veil of utter darkness torn, As sunbeams dissipate the mists of morn And show a brighter blue, a richer green ; Nor loathsome fowl nor reptile could be seen. After the horrors of that sudden night The living meadows were a pleasant sight, And with a love he never knew before. Though oft enjoying Nature's carnival. He heard the birds their melodies outpour, And insects from the leafy coverts call. Then, while his heart was still in pleasant mood. Entranced, before the castle gate he stood ; Yet seemed it not the building he had seen When first he left the forest, for the sheen Of purest alabaster on it lay. Instead of the forbidding, gloomy gray ; And in its portal, with a smiling face. Stood one who was th ' embodiment of grace. "Welcome, brave youth," she said, and in her voice Was that which makes the soul of man rejoice — Inimitable, holy ring of truth — "A hearty welcome to my home, brave youth ! I am thy Genius, and since thy first cry My pleasant lot has been to hover nigh THE CHOICE 23 And mark thy steady growth, and gently lead Thy earnest spirit on, from deed to deed, Through childhood and through youth, till now thou art Come to the point where thou must choose thy part. I've seen thee strive to pierce, like ancient seers. The mystic veil that hides the future years, But have, with loving care, withheld from thee That power to gaze into futurity. Until by tests I knew the hour at hand ; But now, thou 'rt ripe — thy soul can understand. I've tested thee, as one tries gold before Adorning it with jewels ; and the door That opens on thy future now is free To swing back on its hinges. Follow me." And so into a hall she led the way Where music soft unceasingly did play And made the hearing captive ; and the air Was laden with the fragrance breezes bear From sweet oasis in a desert land, Refreshing and inspiring ; on a stand Of polished onyx lay a crystal sphere, Outrivaling the dew, so purely clear. To this the spirit led, then to him turned : "The hour hath come for which thy soul so yearned ! The future now is thine, and thou may'st look And make thy choice." And as it were a bock He read the crystal's depths : "I see my home ! There are the fields, the hills I love to roam ; 24 THE CHOICE The pleasant woods, the purling brook, are there ; A scene of calm content, without a care ! I see a child — a full-faced, laughing boy, Whose only thought is of his present joy : His little round of life not yet become A beaten path, with scenery wearisome. The picture changes : Now the lad is grown To lusty manhood, strong of flesh and bone. And ripening like the fields that are his pride ; Beloved, revered by all the country side. His heart is kindly, and by him the poor Are helped, their sufferings better to endure ; In counsel wise and in conviction strong, Heaven hath endowed him well. He goes along His chosen way like steamship o'er the sea. Heedless of wind and wave, straight to its quay. Beyond all flattery or pompous pride. No power he claims, yet none to him 's denied. So in strong manhood is he loved, and now When hoary age plows furrows in his brow, I see him honored. To the waiting grave He grandly goes — not as a writhing slave To meet an angry Master — but as one Who feels his work in life hath been well done. Forgotten soon of men, yet throughout time The life he lived will bear its fruit sublime. "The play is o'er ! And so my life must be A life of peace — of gentle husbandry ! 'Tis not as I had hoped, for in my heart 1 Icnged to play a more ambitious part." THE CHOICE 25 "Look yet again !" the Spirit to him said. The youth obeyed, and as the shadow fled : "Again," he cried, "my childhood's home I see, Just as before — each field and hill and tree. The happy lad, the farm house — all the same. Now comes a change : Behold ! Ambition's flame Hath kindled fires within the young man's breast. And all his soul 's aglow with anxious quest For certain honors; with a careless hand He guides the plow along the portioned land. Useless such toil for him who sorely grieves ! And wisely now the ill-kept farm he leaves To seek the city, where, among his kind, Responsive throbbings of the heart he'll find. "By night and day he works ; his hot brain teems With plans for fame, with ever-dazzling schemes. He studies men and methods, till at last He reaps the harvest of the seed long cast : His words are strong ; men give him their belief ; They shout, rejoice ! They hail him as their chief ! Now is he lifted up among the great — Another prophet come to save the State ! His very nod is law ; around him throng The suppliants who feed upon the strong, Who suck the life-blood of successful men And are the first to scurry from them, when Their waning strength betokens that the hour Is near at hand when they shall lose their power. But yet this man hath used dominion well. Upbuilding and uplifting; many tell 26 THE CHOICE How kind his heart, how tender is his love ; Although as difficult it were to move The dread tornado from its destined path As turn aside this man when in his wrath. So, foes he hath ; the men of selfish aim, Who strive for factional success, to claim Munificent rewards ; whose only care Amid success, is for their shameless share ; And them, contemning, he would sweep away ; But they, like wolves forced from expected prey, With hated filled, go snarling to and fro. Inciting others to attack their foe. "And now, behold the end ! This man of power. Like all the rest, must have his final hour, Must yield to mighty death ! Around him now His followers, in grief sincerest, bow. And as the long procession marches on. The world laments a noble soul that s gone ! "This, then, is masterful Ambition's end ! And yet the humbler life of him unkenned Is net so different — a change of sphere, And that is all. If one 's good deeds appear So much the greater, so his deeds of ill Proportionately grow ; the sterner will Hath wider scope in which to work its way. Yet bound by laws that govern common clay. "Bright Spirit ! If it be for me to make This day my choice, the humbler lot I take. THE CHOICE 27 Content to follow, anxious not to lead, Yer ever ready for my country's need." The Spirit sweetly smiled ; upon his brow She laid her hand, and said : "I knew that thou, Whom I have studied since thy natal hour, Would'st rightly weigh the worth of place and power. Well hast thou chosen, and thy life shall be A fount of joy, exhaustless as the sea. Whereof thy friends shall drink, and bless thy choice." And hearing yet the echo of her voice, The youth awoke, and all the world was fair With peace and love, and joy was everywhere. 28 THE MAN IN THE DITCH THE MAN IN THE DITCH HAVE you ever watched the navvy as he wielded pick and spade? Have you ever thought you 'd like to learn the navvy's heavy trade? But if you or I should try it, I 'm afraid there 'd be a botch ; Something fascinating in it, though, or none would stop to watch. Yet while standing idly watching him, one learns a lesson, which May be classified as "Moral of the Man Down in the Ditch." Just observe him lift his pick up — not with any hasty jerk. But so easy and so careful — oh, the man knows how to work ! And he brings it down so nicely — see, he doesn't try to tear Dewey Avenue to pieces every time he splits the air; But a little here he scratches, and a little there he scrapes. And with almost gentle touches on the sides, the trench he shapes. THE MAN IN THE DITCH 29 He begins in early morning and he keeps it up all day; When his back is tired, he stretches ; but he 's in the trench to stay Till the job is all completed, and he sticks unto the end. When his labor is rewarded and he gets his brass to spend. But if you or I had tried it, we *d have hustled up the work. And some fifteen minutes later we 'd have sought "a chance to shirk. Now, the moral of the lesson is quite plain to every one — He who always does his utmost doesn 't get the most work done ; It is "steady does it" always, and the man who knows the rule. Yet refuses to apply it is no better than a fool. In her temple Fame has filled up many a pleasant little niche With the busts of men who've labored like the man- down in the ditch. 30 BOYS AGAIN BOYS AGAIN I'T^WAS good to roam the woodlands, JL When the days were fine and warm, Because each nook and hollow Held a never-failing charm ; The crane-bill grows in thickets, And among the mossy rocks The wild pink blooms its brightest. High above the scented phlox; Bright buttercups here flourish, And upon those grassy banks The fighting johnny-jump-ups Stand in closely crowded ranks. But we forget the rambles And the haunts we used to know. When gently from the heavens Ccmes the first good fall of snow. The whirling, swirling snowdrops, From their mystic source on high, Come hurrying and scurrying. Till soft and deep they lie ; BOYS AGAIN 31 And there is fun for everyone, For lads cind lasses, too. Away with fears ! Shake off your years ! Let 's join the merry crew ! When summer day was pleasant And the breeze was from the south, *Twas fine to hold a cricket Just before a gaping mouth ; Or, if the fish refused it. And the water not too cool, There was ecstatic pleasure Plunging in the limpid pool ; Or with a bunch of willows. Making bower as well as sail. To cleave the foamy billows Like a pirate in a gale. But we forget the fishing And the winds that gently blow. When through December's crispness Comes the first good fall of snow. The agile; fragile snowdrops Bring a pleasure in their flight ; And shimmering and glimmering With tremulous delight. Invite us all to carnival Of Winter 's merry play. Hurrah for snow ! With cheeks aglow, We 're boys again today ! 32 THE WOODLAND THE WOODLAND WITH rod and with gun we '11 away from the sound Of city to wild solitude, Where joy 's to be found in perpetual round, And life to the dying 's renewed. The breath of the woods is as joyous as wine, And lifteth the heart above care ; No perfume so fine as the scent of the pine When borne on the free forest air. We'll break through the shams and the shallow pretense Veneering the civilized man ; In forests immense, where the shadows are dense, We '11 live as when life first began. Hurrah for the life of the forester bold ! Hurrah for the forester free ! With heart uncontrolled by the fever of gold, The life of the woodsman for me ! THE SUMMER GIRL 33 THE SUMMER GIRL THERE were three men, and they were young, With stylish clothes and glib of tongue. And as upon the porch they sat, Engaged with pipes and idle chat. The one called Billiam spoke and told The tale that never groweth old : "Twas in the first half of July That I took my vacation ; I thought this year that I would try A quiet seaside station. "There was a score of maidens fair ; Of course it was my inning : I chose the prettiest damsel there — And that was the beginning. "Soon on the white and glistening sand We learned to lonely linger ; And ere I left, a golden band I placed upon her finger." So saying, Billiam smiled the smile Of one who 's said what 's worth the while, 34 THE SUiMMER GIRL And as aram he blew the smoke, 'Twas thus that gentle Porgie spoke : "It was in August, don 't you know, I went up in the mountains. To build my health up from the flow Of nasty sm.elling fountains. "While there I met the finest girl That ever I set eyes on : She floated in the dizzy whirl ; You bet she had no flies on. "I didn 't have a heap of cash. But still I didn 't waver ; And, boys, you ought to see her flash The diamond ring I gave her !" And Porgie puffed with calm delight, Because his conscience was all right ; And then up spake young Samivel — Here is the tale that he did tell : "You know I 've just ccme from the Fair, Where girls are gathered thickly ; Selecting one with golden hair, I fell in love right quickly. "I took her up the Alpine heights, I took her to Creation ; In short, I showed her all the sights, Though costing like tarnation. THE SUMMER GIRL 35 "She has my heart, she has my ring, But yet she 's mine in toto ; And now, to prove she 's just the thine', Behold ! Here is her photo !" And Billiam looked, and Porgie, too, And — well, you see. it wouldn 't do For me to tell just what they said, Because that was the girl who led Young Billiam on the glistening strand, And Porgie in that mountain land. 35 THE COMMON CAUSE THE COMMON CAUSE AWAY with that ignoble thought Of jealousy in creed ; Your nanow mind seems only fraught With odds and ends by most forgot ; Your cry is, "See the weed !" One weed does not a garden spoil, Nor errors kill a friend ; Accept the pleasure with the toil ; Smooth out life's troubled sea with oil ; To all some grace extend. Behold ! last week the corner stone Of this new church was laid ; By whom was most devotion shown? By members of this church alone Was interest displayed? No ; to this spot the people came, No matter what their creed ; They thought not of a church 's name ; They sought not for sectarian fame ; They cared not whose the deed. THE COMMON CAUSE 37 Denominations all agreed To join the common cause ; To bid the holy work godspeed ; To give their help in time of need, Nor recked of selfish laws. When goodly deeds are to be done There 's no sectarian hate ; All human natures are as one — As rivers from far sources run To make the ocean great. Away with thought of strife among The followers of the Lord ! Rememb 'ring that when bells are rung No matter in what steeple hung, Hearts beat in common chord. 38 THE TEAMSTER'S SONG THE TEAMSTER 'S SONG THE dust is thick and the road is long ; The sun has a thousand stings ; The wagon's creak gives a tune to his song And thus the teamster sings : "Git ep, thar, Charley ! Jim, wake up ! The hours are passin ' by ; Down thar by the gate the children wait, An ' the wife with the tender eye." And in and out on the ridge of the hill The yellow highway winds ; The dust is fine as the grist, but still The creaking wagon grinds. "Gee haw, thar, Charley ! Git ep, Jim ! My lips are parched an ' dry ; I want to sup from the old tin cup. With wife and children nigh." The fragrance cf the pines is good. And rich is the meadow green ; And near the stream in the edge of wood, A cottage soon is seen. "Now, whca, old Charley! Whca, old Jim! You 're not for passin ' by ? The kids are here with laughin ' cheer. An ' the wife with the tender eye." UNCONQUERED 39 UNCONQUERED WHEN the ice upon the crick Is about two inches thick, An ' you hear Jack Frost a-crackin on the walls, Billy tumbles inter bed. An ' his happy little head Dreams o ' skates an ' figger eights an ' shinny balls. But when Monday mornin *s come, Then our Billy he looks glum, Fer the snow is jest a-pilin * on the ground ; It 's enough to make him sick, Fer he knows the ice is slick. An ' no more sich ice may come the winter round. But does Billy moan an ' pout? No ; he gits his ol ' sled out An ' he whoops an ' hollers as he runs along ; Fer it 's alius been our plan Jest to Tarn our little man Fer to make the best o ' things that *s goin ' wrong. An ' I alius do maintain It would save us lots o ' pain If we 'd all adopt a rule o ' that ' ere kind ; No use puUin ' with a load Up a rough an ' rocky road. When there is a better road that you can find. 40 A CONTRAST 5 A CONTRAST "What are little girls made of? Sugar and spice And everything nice — That's what little girls are made of." — Old Rhyme. WEET little maidens of long, long ago, Tenderly guarded from sunshine and rain, Dreading as shameful a fine, healthy glow. Looking on freckles and tan with disdain ; Sweet little creatures of "sugar and spice," Showers of April would melt you away ; Sweet little compounds of "everything nice," Sunbeams of August would dry you like hay ; Painting pink horses in pastures of blue ; Taught to move quietly, slow and demure, Sitting for hours like a nun in a pew. Sad was the life that you led, to be sure. Up-to-date maidens have altered all that ; Fearing no weather, they go where they wish, Brave the hot sunbeams without any hat. Dash through a rainstorm as happy as fish. A CONTRAST 41 Listless and languid no longer they are : Out in the world they are taking a part — Special reporters describing the war ; Traveling lecturers talking on art ; Up in the pilot house turning the wheel ; Managing business concerns with a vim ; Pushing through Wall street a vigorous deal ; Practicing medicine, setting a limb. Such are the maidens that live in this day, Yet just as sweet as the maidens of old ; Probably spicier, too, in their way, Certainly worthy their weight in pure gold. 42 DOCTOR CUPID DOCTOR CUPID LOVE has brought a deal of trouble To this world of ours ; Yet, who minds a little stubble, Gathering field flowers? Just because Dan Cupid 's arrow Gives a pretty smart, Do not make the gateway narrow Leading to your heart. Cupid 's arrows, shot at random, (For the fellow 's blind,) Hearts arranged in proper tandem Sometimes fail to find. Here a maid may sadly languish. Moaning for a mate ; There a swain may suffer anguish At untoward fate. But the cause of all this sickness Is itself the cure. Almost startling in its quickness, — Never-failing, sure. Homeopathist is Cupid ; "Like for like !" his cry ; Only those perversely stupid Scorn the dose and die. WILL LOVE GROW COLD 43 WILL LOVE GROW COLD WILL love grow cold As we grow old? Oh, no! Oh, no! For love that's pure Will yet endure And keep the heart aglow. Will time efface All pleasure s trace? Oh, no! Oh, no! The pleasures passed Did but forecast The pleasures we 're to know. Will sorrow spare? And grief? and care? Oh, no! Oh, no! But love will live — And love will give New strength to meet the foe. 44 RECREATION RECREATION WHEN we tire of fighting battles in the ceaseless war of life, And the brain calls for sedatives till it's fit again for strife, Odd enough we turn to novels, for the peace that they afford — For they 're full of business tangles, booming gun and whistling sword. The adventures of the hero keep us in a perfect whirl. Wondering whether he '11 die early, or will marry his best girl. He is caught in tightest places ; he is under direst ban; Some foul crime has been committed, and he surely is the man ; Cool detectives piece around him chain of evi- dence complete ; Even she who loves him dearly half believes he is a cheat. Will he make a frank confession, and, with pledges to reform, Be received with open arms again and sheltered from the storm? RECREATION 45 Or with her he loves so madly will he seek a for- eign clime, There to lead a life of honor and to make amends for crime? Not a bit of it ! The hero, like a surgeon true and wise Waiting for a boil to ripen, ere the lancet keen he tries. Lets his troubles get together, till he 's hidden in the pile ; Then he gives his explanation — Puff! Let everybody smile ! For the hero is a hero, and the villain is betrayed, And the happiest little lady is the hero's little maid. Yes, there 's rest and recreation in the novels that we read When we tire of fighting battles ; for we all of us have need Of reflecting that our troubles, though they seem o'erwhelming great. Might have been a great deal greater, were it not for kindly Fate. How severely you 'd have suffered, had it been your awful lot To be bom a Chinese baby or a coal-black Hot- tentot ! And it 's nice to think, moreover, (though perhaps it is not kind) 46 AN ENGLISH PRIMROSE That however much we suffer in this life of daily grind. There are hundreds, thousands, millions, both at home and o 'er the sea, Who endure unnumbered hardships, and who suffer more than we. AN ENGLISH PRIMROSE A PRIMROSE from Old England, eh? A message from the East, To gladder make this happy morn and grace an Easter feast ! Although our own sweet woodland flowers, more beautiful, invite Our love and admiration, ever giving us delight, Yet this one is from England — from that land across the sea, And, oh ! the thoughts are pleasant that it brings to you and me ! To you — remembrance of the past — of child- hood 's happy hours — Life's springtime in the pleasant fieHs adorned with golden flowers; The nosegays and the garlands woven in the hawthorn *s shade, AN ENGLISH PRIMROSE 47 The chime of bells from distant towers, the village through the glade ; The kith and kin that m.ade your world ere you began to roam ; The fragrance and the essence of the dear old place called "Home." To me — a dim tradition, like a vista in a dream. Illuminated here and there by some famt, fitful gleam ; The birthplace of our freedom, and the place whence heroes sprung, Where poets learned to touch the lyre and to the new world sung ; And now to me this primrose brings the scent of those old days, And calls to life the swinging lines of good old English lays. And like a hand across the sea, this primrose comes to claim Again the kinship of the race — the glories of the name. The comm.on cause of common blood, of freedom and of law. Achievements of a mighty race that fills the world with awe. The other day that yellow cup held drops of English dew, And England, looking o 'er the sea, drank "Here 's a health to you." 48 TELEPATHY TELEPATHY WHEN Lizzie crinkles up her hair And ties her bows with greatest care, She 's warned by something in the air That Johnny Sparker will be there — Now, that 's telepathy ! When Willie, on his way from school, Goes paddling in a muddy pool. He feels somehow, he s played the fool, And dreads his m.other's paddling rule — And that 's telepathy ! When Jones, who once his full name wrote For friendship's sake on Jimson's note. Gets news that Jimscn 's cut his threat. And feels he has not left a groat, — Well, that 's telepathy ! When Bilkins at the club stays late, And wobbles home with muddled pate. Attempting to appear sedate Before he meets his anxious mate — Well, that 's telepathy ! When Jinks's home is in a rout, Soapsuds are in and meat is out, With not a tidy place about. And Jinks brings Binks to dine — I doubt If that 's telepathy ! THE OLD TIMER 49 AN OLD-TIMER 1 7V1 O^^ ^"^y ^^^ ^^" teach, (the old man said) Ji V All that it takes is jest a level head, An ' no great stock o ' 1 'amin ' or o ' wit ; The most a body needs is lots o ' grit, An ' muscle, too, to back up what you say. To hire a weak-backed person doesn 't pay. I 've went ter school myself when I 's a kid An ' know jest how some things ought ter be did. The fust thing needed on the openin ' day, To keep the kids from cuttin ' up too gay. Is jest a bunch o ' withes — say birch, they 're best. They 're windin ' like an ' hot, an ' stand the test. An' then the teacher, who should be about Six foot or more, an ' built accordin ' — stout — Though size, I 'low, don 't alius count fur much, Purvided that he 's quick of eye and touch — The teacher then, I says, gits up an' lays The rules right down, an ' them ' at discbeys Will see by them ' ere withes jest what they '11 ketch. An ' that there '11 be no monkeyshines cr sech. An ' everyone must git right down to work, An ' woe to idlers that will try to shirk ! Then out with spellin ' book or 'rithmetic. An ' school commences right off, mighty quick. 50 THE OLD TIMER An' say, right here I want to say as how I've got no use fur what they're teachin' now 'Bout physiography an' all that stuff ; Lam 'em to read an' cipher — that s enough ! That's all the eddycation they give me, An' I ve done purty well, as all can see — There hain't no farm around as good as mine, An' I have raised a family of nine. No, sir ! Now, let me tell you — fling away Most all the books you 're botherin' with today. An' I'am 'em how to figger an' to read — Jest keep 'em down to things they reelly need, An' withe 'em hard each time you see 'em fool. An' then you '11 have a good, old-fashioned school. Now, lemme tell you what I seen last spring — It was the most disgraceful, shameful thing ! As I was on that pi nt, a cuttin' brush, Hyer comes a let o' children in a rush. All whoopin', howlin', yellin' like they 's mad. An' arter 'em the teaches, with a gad. By jocks ! says I, them kids is broken loose An' teacher 's arter 'em. as sure 's the deuce ! So on they come, an' ripped and roared an* cheered, An' didn 't seem to be the least bit skeered. Now, that 's your woman teacher ! Kids run off ! An' when she calls 'em, they just yell an ' scoff ! But I'm a school trustee, an' so, says I, I can 't allow these things when I 'm close by, THE OLD TIMER 51 So down I throws my ax, an ' makes a leap, An ' ketches two, that bleat jest like a sheep. "See hyer," says I, "this kind o ' work won 't do ! I '11 see 't your teacher puts you fellers through. An' if she can 't I '11 help her. No back talk ! Or else I 11 wallop you so you can t walk !" With that I yanks 'em back to where she stood ; She had ketched one — the littlest o ' the brood. "Hyer 's two of 'em," says I, "both omry chaps, That ought to have a dose o' well oiled straps. I '11 hold 'em while you withe 'em — hit 'em hard, An' mebbe nex' time they '11 stay in the yard." "What for?" says she ; "What have the poor dears done?" "What fur?" says I ; "Why, didn 't I see 'em run, An' you right arter 'em, with that 'ere gad? Hain 't they run off frum school, an' actin' bad?" "Why no," says she ; "We took this awftemoon To sawnter through the woods, an' to commune With glorious natur' — " an' a lot o' stuff She said like that, 'at put me in a huff. An' then I ups an' tells her hit 's a crime The way she 's puttin' in her teachin' time. By jocks ! To think o' taxes that we pay All squandered in that foolish sort o' way ! Instid o' keepin' at their books, they run. Teacher an' all, about the woods, fur fun ! Commune with natur' ! Pickin' flowers an' weeds! Neglectin' all their actual, livin' needs! 52 CUPID'S MISTAKE No, sir ! says I. No more sech schools fer me \ An' jest as iong as I m to be trustee, I 'II vote again these hifalutin ways, An' have school teached like in the good old days. CUPID'S MISTAKE I HEARD a lover tell his love. Enveloped in the evening shade. With words that might Parrhasius move. Yet raised no pity in the maid. The fire of love burned in his breast ; The light of love lit up his eye ; For love he led untiring quest. For love he laid him down to die. O Cupid, here were you to blame. For sending shaft in reckless flight! A watchful eye, a careful aim. Had saved the lover from this plight. RETA 53 RETA HOW honor her who is beyond all praise? As well add whiteness to the falling snow. Or lend a candle to the sun's bright rays, Or to the ocean give yon brooklet's flow. Oft have I stood, as bound in subtle chains, And listened to the viol's symphony ; But when I heard her speak, then died the strains, And life itself was lost in ecstasy. To what, then, shall 1 liken her? Is there On earth a symbol that may mean her grace, Her voice, her form, her forehead wondrous fair) Oh, she is peerless, and in vain I chase Swift flying similes ; she is alone. And peerless on her solitary throne. 54 WE "LL VANQUISH TIME WITH LOVE WE'LL VANQUISH TIME WITH LOVE WE LL vanquish time with love, my dear. We *11 vanquish time with love ; Though silver messengers appear To warn us that the winter s near, We '11 hold the summer always here — We '11 vanquish time with love. With love so gentle, love so strong; With love that bears the world along ; With love that laughs in joyous song — We '11 vanquish time with love. It 's all in how to love, my dear. It 's all in how to love ; The world has neither pang nor fear. Distress nor grief, nor lack of cheer. Nor ever comes a torment near. If one knows how to love. To love, and live as in a dream ; To love, and sail a mystic stream ; To love, and catch a heavenly gleam — If one knows how to love ! WE 'LL VANQUISH TIME WITH LOVE 55 It's giving all for love, my dear, It 's giving all for love ; It 's blending in a perfect sphere The pearls of faith, year after year ; It 's making hearts as crystals clear ; It's giving all for love. For love, for which the good knights fought ; For love, for which the artist wrought ; For love, which gold has never bought — It's giving all for love. 56 SUNNY DAYS SUNNY DAYS THE world is good on sunny days, Light-hearted and vivacious; The birds sing out in joyous praise, The air is full of merry lays. And everyone is gracious. The blind musician on the street Gets sympathy of shoppers ; The tunes he grinds seem even sweet, So everyone gives him a treat Of nickels or of coppers. In clink of chisel on the stone. In children's cheery voices. In creak of wheel, in ring of 'pJ^o^^e, In puff of train — in every tone We feel that earth rejoices. Who cares if this be in the Fall, And soon it will be snowing? Still can we hear the robin's call. Still sunshine fills the hearts of all And sets all faces glowing. SUNNY DAYS 57 And still, in days like these, we grow Far larger and far better ; Oar hearts dwell on the good we know, And far away from us we throw Each weary chain and fetter. A sparkling eye, a smiling face, A pleasant salutation. May o 'er the world a passage trace ; Who knows how far a charming grace Will spread sweet delectation? 58 BEAUTY AND SYMPATHY BEAUTY AND SYMPATHY BEAUTY, what art thou but a sunbeam fleet- ing? Red lips, smooth cheeks and forehead smooth and fair. Are all ephemeral, for Time will wear Their cclcr and their freshness at each meeting. What, hast thou power to fill the sluggish mind With noble thoughts and famous aspirations? To soul uncurbed canst thou teach winning patience, Or sweetly to stern duty be resigned? 7 hese Sym^pathy may do, but Beauty, never ; Sweet Sympathy, who rules the heart of youth, Of manhood and of age ; whose gentle fire We'ds heart to heart, that nothing miay dissever ; Whcse ba'm is hope, whose banner is the truth, Who arms the warrior, tunes the poet's lyre. A BOY WITHOUT A KNIFE 59 A BOY WITHOUT A KNIFE LAST night I had an awful dream,. The worst one in my life ; I dreamed that I had turned into A Boy without a Knife! In truth it has been many years Since boyhood ceased for me, And if I had the power, I 'd choose Again a boy to be. But not a Boy without a Knife ! Far rather any fate Than be the creature of my dream — That outcast at the gate ! I dreamed that I and other boys Went walking up Skull Run, And that we made the hollows ring Glad echoes to our fun. And I was happiest of all : The spring air seemed to make The blood go dancing through my veins. And set each nerve awake. 60 A BOY WITHOUT A KNIFE Then, coming to a v/alnut tree, Each boy cut off a limb, And fashioned it upon his knee Into a whistle trim. But I, alas, was left to mourn ! For me no rustic fife ! I searched my clothes, and found I was A Boy without a Knife ! In vain I tried to borrow one — My comrades would not hear. But stood about, with cheeks puffed out, And blew their whistles clear ! Then in despair I wandered off To where a pleasant pool Invited boat to idly float, Impelled by zephyrs cool. The others followed, and with knives Made ships and sloops galore. Which sailed to make discoveries Upon an unknown shore. Enraged, again I strove to find A solitary spot. Where none could come to taunt me with A thing that I had not. But everywhere they followed me — That diabolic crew — A BOY WITHOUT A KNIFE 61 And flashed their knives so I could see What things a knife could do. Great kites they made that sailed aloft And tortured me to to see ; They played the game of mumble-peg But ne'er invited me. On beech tree bark they cut tbeir names ; They w^hittled blocks of pine ; Made windmills, swords, and curious things Of quaint and queer design. And all they did was agony Unto my suffering soul. Until my smoldering passions burst In rage beyond control. With clubs and stones I laid about In most distressful strife, Until I woke, and ceased to be A Boy without a Knife ! 62 TOMMY AND JANE TOMMY AND JANE AS I went a-walking down Gallaher's Lane, I chanced a couple to see ; 'Twas Tommy and Jane, and the innocent twain Were happy as happy could be, tra la, Were happy as fish in the sea. They strolled hand in hand, as most innocents will. And love lent to Fancy a wing ; A bird on the hill caused the echoes to thrill — 1 realized then it was Spring, tra la. The time for the robins to sing. The time for the dove to be hunting a mate, The time to be planning a nest. When lovers swing late on the old garden gate. And keep the old folks from their rest, tra la, From sleep that 's regarded as best. The time for the farmer to plow up his land, The time for the greens to appear. The time for a bland promenade hand in hand With one that you hold very dear, tra la. Who sweetens the time of the year. WINTER SUNSHINE 63 May Tommy and Jane keep their love ever new, May Spring from their path ne 'er depart, Their sky be of blue, and each bird-song a cue For kisses that spring from the heart, tra, la. With love that no trial can thvs^art. WINTER SUNSHINE BRIGHT shines the sun upon the stricken earth — From genial May King Winter steals some hours And gilds with mockery the scene of dearth ; Yet does the trick so well, that scent of flowers And leaves unfolding, by the breeze is borne, Just as it is upon a springtime mom. So, when the winter of our lives appears, Let 's have no dreary days, but call on Love To brighten all our paths and banish fears, And make this world resemble that above ; For Love can break the force of Winter's cold. And light the dark 'ning skies with beams of gold. 64 IN DECEMBER IN DECEMBER I LOOK abroad, and see the world as dead ; No light, no cheer, no welcome anywhere ; Brown fields, black hills and skies the hue of lead — Accessaries and agents of Despair ! The lengthening shadows of the dying year Have weight and substance, and they grimly come, O 'erwhelming and oppressing, till through fear The blood has ceased to pulse and nerves are dumb. Turn, turn, my soul ! Bar out the dismal view. And look within, where joy and welcome wait ! Where Love's fair sunshine will thy strength renew. And lend thee smiles to meet whatever fate ! WISHES 65 WISHES T 'D like to be a millionaire about two hundred 1 times, And travel where I want to in all sorts of lands and climes ; I 'd bring to pass the steamboatman's most beatific dream, And deepen the Ohio to a navigable stream. I 've heard about the drawbacks that the million- aires confess. But millionaire I 'd like to be — for some time, ne'er- theless. I 'd like to be the President of these United States: I 'd keep the politicians pretty busy scratching pates ; I 'd banish all tuxedos to the Island of Sulu, And cause a revolution in the style of Irish stew. They say it takes some nerve to be a brilliant success, But President I 'd like to be for four years, ne 'er- theless. I 'd like to be a castaway upon a palmy isle. With no one near to tell me that my clothes are not in style ; 66 WISHES Where I can kick my shoes away and roll my trousers high, And give the corns that trouble me a vigorous good-by. Of course I might get hungry and would miss the fragrant mess, But castaway I 'd like to be, a brief time, ne 'er- theless. I 'd like to be a farmer in a gentlemanly way, With lots of hands to gather in the pumpkins and the hay ; And raise my own potatoes for the good old noonday hash, And have some oil wells on the place to bring in ready cash. The seasons might hit hard sometimes, and force me to eat cress, A farmer still I d like to be, a few days, ne'ertheless. I 'd like to be a merchant and to run a general store, I 'd hire the finest looking clerks that ever trod a floor; I 'd eat the raisins and the nuts while sitting by the fire. And help myself to anything my fancy might desire. I 've heard of merchants doing that and coming to distress, A merchant, though, I 'd like to be — at Christmas — ne'ertheless. LONGINGS 67 LONGINGS I LOVE to wander in the fields, To note the wonders Nature yields For man's delight in earth and sky — The fragrant fields, where you and I In former times have often caught The perfume of the flowers, brought By gentle zephyrs from the bowers Where bees spend many happy hours. And more especially I love Bright summer on such days as these — When blizzards hit without a glove, And Jack Frost gives us such a squeeze. I love to lie beside the stream For hours and hours, and idly dream Upon a world created fair And kept forever free from care ; To hear the bird upon the bough In merry music tell me how He wooed and won his artless mate. Who on her nest sits quite sedate. 68 LONGINGS little birds ! I hope that you 're Enjoying well your winter's rest. From zero weather all secure. And blanketed within your nest. 1 love to walk 'mid forest trees, And feel upon my brow the breeze Come cool and fresh from leafy shade ; To see the rabbits on parade ; To hear the little chipmunk swear; To gather orchids rather rare ; To have the perspiration chase In tickling rivers down my face. In fact, when snow is on the ground, My love for summer is intense ; Though, when that season rolls around It may be that I *ll wish it hence. THE CONFLICT 69 THE CONFLICT DARK with hate was the face of the Kinr, As he stood from his minions apart ; And his eyes glinted bright with the cold, cruel light Of the evil intent in his heart. He looked down on the land he had won — Sorely stricken and torn with the v/ar He had waged when the Lord of the fair land had gone On a visit to regions afar. He delighted to gaze on the woe ; He was glad with a vengeance-bom joy ; "Never tribute," he cried, "I demand of my foe: First I conquer, and then I destroy !" And then at his dread breathing, the land Became wasted, and dreary and chill ; The great forests were dead ; every creature had fled; Even hushed was the song of the rill. 70 THE CONFLICT And no longer the glad people went Gaily laughing, to labor afield — They were cowering low in the depth of their woe! On their knees untD God they appealed. Now they prayed the return of their Lord — For his speedy home-coming they prayed ; They had faith in the swing of his terrible sword. In the gleam of his conquering blade. Bat he sent, from his realm in the South, A slight maiden, his love to assure ; With a smile she advanced, and her eyes kindly glanced With the light of a love that was pure. Then a fear seized the King of the North, For her smile put his minions to flight ; And the people, emboldened, rejoicing came forth With their welcoming songs of delight. And the broDk's merry music was heard, And the forest arose unto life. And the deserts grew green, and the good, gold- en sheen Covered gently the scars of the strife. FATE 71 FATE WHEN Jerry married Susy Ann, Their thoughts were of the present : They had a very modest plan By which to eke On ten a week A modest life but pleasant. A year or two thus rolled away, Then thought they of their neighbors Who had no landlord bills to pay. While they had spent For monthly rent The product of their labors. So they procured a house and land ; With grim determination They worked and worried, schemed and plai Till debts were paid. And they surveyed Their own with exultation. 72 FATE But scarcly had they settled down Delighted with their blessing, When they resolved to move to town Wherein are found An endless round Of pleasures worth possessing. Then for a space life was a joy, Unlike the old-time quiet; Until they saw the latest toy — An auto, and They made a grand Reduction sale to buy it. They bowled along the avenue, Into the country sallied ; The choo-choo down a hillside fiew, .A.nd struck a rock — From that dread shock The couple never rallied. . If Jerry end his Susy Ann — But what 's the use of talking? Some people live a lengthened span Yet drive a pace Like frenzied race, And others die while walking. THE CALL OF THE 'PHONE 73 THE CALL OF THE 'PHONE THEY were holding ccnverscitlon in a desultory way, Sometimes pausing for a mcment to consider what to say, Till at last a subject started that he followed with delight, A.nd he toasted it and roasted it regardless of time's flight. It was leading to a point that he had long desired to reach, And he hoped that the result would be eternal joy to each; He v>^as leaving in the morning— his vacation would be o'er, And he hated to be fated to uncertainty once more. Now or never he would settle it; away with doubt and dread ! So with nerves at mighty tensicn, he enclosed her hand and said : 74 THE CALL OF THE 'PHONE "Why may we net live forever"- then a call rang on the phone ! "Some one's ringing !" and upspringmg, there she left him, all alone ! Strong in patience, there he waited ; she returned with blushing face ; He resumed the old, old story at the interrupted place, Told it wi.h such flow of language it surprised his timid soul ; Her eyes glistened while she listened and a tear escaped control. When at length he popped the question, then she looked most sweetly sad ; "Don 't be angry with me, Reggie, but it 's really too bad ! if you d been a wes bit quicker — that was Charlie at the phone — There s no knowing — You re not going?" But he left her there alone. PROGRESS 75 PROGRESS THE good old days, the good old days I Ah me, they 're passing fast ; Tis well the poets sing their praise, Because they cannot last ! The pastor, in the days of old, Might take his little glass; But now, the sheep would jump the fclJ If he should be so crass. The Father of our Country held That lotteries were good ; But now, by public voice compelled. They 're driven to the wood. The car conductor must refrain From language full of vim. For fear his passengers complain And put an end to him. But when you hear the last they tell. You'll wonder "where we're at;" The landlord of a big hotel Is "fired" because he 's fat ! 76 PROGRESS Why, ever since the world was made, When men desired to dine, The fat inn keeper drew the trade — He was a living sign. Oh, what a prospect is in view Of years that are to come ! When steamboat mates shall softly coo. And singers shall be dumb ! When seedless fruit is all the go. And reckless pilots guide The noiseless steamboat to and fro Upon a wetless tide ! When wingless birds shall cleave the air, And tongueless are the bells; And fatless men shall have the care Of all our big hotels ! PESSIMIST AND OPTIMIST 77 PESSIMIST AND OPTIMIST PESSIMIST OH, tell me not the world is fair ; But rather say 'tis full of care, O 'er clouded with distress and pain, With sorrows in an endless chain. OPTIMIST What, is your memory so short You have forgot your youthful sport ? And shall one touch of sorrow kill The joys that once your heart did thrill ? PESSIMIST Oh, tell me not that woman's true. That virtue lurks in eyes of blue ! Say rather that Deception roves In realms that God intended Love's. 78 PESSIMIST AND OPTIMIST OPTIMIST B^cau35 one woman played you false And chose another for the waltz, Would you condemn the millions who Unto taz ones they pledge are true > PESSIMIST I own there are some men so pure That angels' selves are scarcely truer ; But in the world's truth-scorning eye Such men are fools — until they die. OPTIMIST Then why in general terms would you Rank with the bad the noble, too ? Your observation well may teach 'Tis very few of men you reach. PESSIMIST To garner gold or heighten pleasure Fills up the most of man's short measure And then, like fish that seize the bait. They fight to live life o'er — too late. OPTIMIST Some truth in that, I must admit, And there I palpably am hit ; And yet I don 't think we intend To be so frivolous to the end. PESSIMIST AND OPTIMIST 79 PESSIMIST Insidious Vice leaps o 'er the earth, And Virtue s strangled in its birth ; To all, save Youth's untutored eyes. This earth is far from Paradise. OPTIMIST Nay, surely. Virtue is alive, And Vice has much to do to thrive ; But each one makes this world a bit Of Heaven or Hell, as he sees fit. 80 GET THE BEST • GET THE BEST A PEDDLER was showing me some of his ware ; I longingly looked, for the bargains seemed rare, When down came a bird from his flight in the air, And perched on the arbor to rest ; Then sang, as he gave me a quizzical stare, "Get the best ! Get the best ! Get the best !" Though money be scarce, it is certainly true It 's best to get things that are solid all through. That are, when they're old, just as good as when new, Like many a Jo Miller jest ; There s wisdom in taking the little bird's cue : "Get the best ! Get the best ! Get the best !" Cheap hats may be good for a single parade ; The shoes come apart when through water you wade ; The trousers may bag, or their color may fade, Or fail to connect with the vest ; It 's wisdom to take this advice in a trade : "Get the best ! Get the best ! Get the best !" GET THE BEST 61 Avoid Imitation, gilt, sham and veneer, Though good as the genuine stuff it appear, You '11 find in the end that it costs very dear. And then you'll be strongly impressed That song of the bird is a good thing to hear : "Get the best ! Get the best ! Get the best !" In choosing your friends, too, the rule will apply : Do not altogether depend on the eye — The forms may seem good, but some figures wall lie. And hearts may not answer the test ; In all that you choose, or in all that you buy, "Get the best ! Get the best ! Get the iDest !" 82 THE STUDENT T THE STUDENT O show he is a gentleman Of credit and good breeding, To prove his race, he goes the pace- And it is glorious speeding ! From rout to rout, With merry shout He runs about, His spirits bubbling laughter ; And as he kinks His arm and drinks He never thinks Upon the morning after! Amid the giddy social whirl He is a bright star shining ; He ne 'er forgets a date, nor lets A chance go by for dining. He s always found In merry round. Where jokes resound Against the groaning rafter ; A butterfly, He flutters high. But wonders why Upon the morning after ! THE AWAKENING 83 THE AWAKENING THE greatest changes in our lives arise from simple things, An' history shows how little things have made men to be kings. It's jest the way you take em, or the way that they take you — In that debate I 'm never sure jest which side is the true ; But this I know : if t hadn 't been that I was mighty dry, An' stopped at Turner's fur a drink, instead o' ploddin' by, Life wouldn 't now be near so bright, as Dollie half agrees — Fur there set Dollie on the porch, a-shellin' of some peas. I 'd seen her many times before, an' liked her mighty well ; 1 'd often heerd the fellers say she was the county belle; 84 THE AWAKENING She had a pleasant way with her, that made her lots o' friends ; She had that winnin,' woman's way the Testa- ment commends ; An' purty as a pictur' — say, no pictur' ever made Shows up so well as she did there, a-settin' in the shade, Her bonnet pushed back frum her face, a sauce- pan on her knccj, That mornin' when 1 seen her on the porch a-shellin' peas. We d gone to school together, way up yander on the hill; I 'd alius called her Dollie, an' she 'd alius called me Bill. Why, we 'd been chums since we was kids, an' quarreled, too, we had. But, bless you, she was not the kind to stay for- ever mad. I didn 't know she liked me then ; I didn 't even know How fur my likin' her had grown — if likm's ever grow — But all at once I liembled, like a poplar in a breeze. Fur then I knowed I loved her, as she set there shellin' peas. SONG OF THE GRIPPED 83 SONG OF THE GRIPPED HARK to the song of the man with a cold, Voicing it up from the depths of his hold. Rasping and gasping in evident pain, Sneezing and wheezing this silly refrain : "Don 't look at me ! At-choo ! At-chee ! I can 't help sneezing, Though it s displeasing ! K-r-r-r-r-roo ! K-r-r-r-ree !" Swelled to unusual dimensions his head ; Cares not a red for Bill, Teddy or Ed, Panama, grannyma, 'Zollern or Guelph — All his sensations are centered on self. "Don 't look at me," etc. He 's in the grasp of the terrible grip ; "Ich hab' ein' sehr schlimmen schnupfen"— don 't trip! Laden with lotions he cannot recall — Camphor-gum, turpentine, lamp oil and all. "Don 't look at me," etc. 86 SONG OF THE GRIPPED Nerve lines are crossed so he cannot locate Painful sensations, no matter how great ; Pain in the back has got into the head, And headache has gone to his great toe instead. "Don 't look at me," etc. Once, he remembers, a long time ago, Laughing he listened to sad tale of woe ; Sad tale of woe — for it was of a cold. And now it comes back to him ten hundred fold. "Don t look at me ! At-choo! At-chee! I can 't help sneezing. Though it 's displeasing ! K-r-r-r-r-roo ! K-r-r-r-ree !" CATCHING THE TRAIN 87 CATCHING THE TRAIN WE *RE all in a flurry, Great bustle and worry, Quick question for this and for that. "Where are the valises?" I 've got 'em— two pieces : "Stop, John ! You 're forgetting your hat ! Is my hat on straight now?" Come on— we are late now ! "Oh, John, did you put out the cat?" At last we are ready. Come on, now ; hold, steady ! It *s dark on the steps after night. What *s that? "It is raining !" Well, no use complaining : Umbrellas are strapped good and tight. Of course, dear, you knew it — You told me to do it — Can t get 'em until there 's a light. 88 CATCHING THE TRAIN "If we had a hack now !" Too late to go back now — It 's time for the train to be here ; In less than a minute We both shall be in it And laughing at this mad career. Step lively ! Fly faster ! Humph! Call this disaster? It s fun if you think so, my dear ! Hurrah ! Here 's the station ! What 's that? Desperation ! We 've got one hour-forty to wait ! "What good was our dashing And mud-puddle splashing? But that has been always our fate !" By George ! Say, that 's funny ! Forgot all my money ! It s lucky the train is so late ! THE CARNIVAL 89 THE CARNIVAL THE carnival has come to town ; I 'm goin' to get gay ; 1 'm goin' to plank my money down An see it float away ; I 'm goin' to see the funny clown An' hear the brass band play. Say, fellers, here 's a circle swing ! Le 's jump a pony's back An' take a lope around the ring ; Whoa ! Steady! Git ep, Jack ! Look out, there, kids ! The measly thing Is like ter jump the track I Le 's board the mighty Ferris wheel An' travel to the sky ; It 's curious how queer you feel When you get up so high. Say, don 't it make your blood congeal To hear that bagpipe cry? 90 THE CARNIVAL Lookout ! I m goin' ter shoot a card An' win that watch, you bet ! What's that? Some collar buttons, pard> Why that s the worst luck, yet ! Come on ! Le 's hit a nigger's head ; I '11 give you half I get. Who plunked me with that rubber ball? I '11 rub her neck — you '11 see ! Le 's sling confetti on 'em all ! Say, stop that purxhin' me ! I 'm takin' in the Carnival An' guess the street is free. EVENING ON THE RIVER 91 EVENING ON THE RIVER OUT from the willows Drifts the boat upon the tide, While fairy billows Lightly roll beside. Where the vain moon hovers O 'er her own reflection fair, Nature, dear to lovers, Will her graces share. Ohio! Kind river, Whom the winds love to caress ; River ! Bright river ! Keep the secret we confess! Sweet music stealing O 'er the gentle moving stream, Softly appealing Bids our fancies dream — Could this be forever. Nothing more could we desire ; On this moonlit river. Love could never tire. Ohio ! Broad river ! Wonderful and gentle stream ! River ! Strong river ! Keep thou well our blissful dream ! 92 THE WEST VIRGINIA BANANA THE WEST VIRGINIA BANANA EXPERTS tell us that the wheat crop is two hundred millions short, And it means the world will suffer, if there's truth in that report, For the prices asked for breadstuffs will be lifted up so high. Only millionaires and officeholders can afford to buy; But another rumor hits us in the hollow of our craw — It is said there is a shortage of the custard-like pawpaw ! Let the wheat crop go to thunder ! We can live on yellow pone. Like our pioneer forefathers, to whom wheat was scarcely known ; We can even stave off hunger for a chunk of juicy steak. Or deny ourselves a chicken for financial stand- ing's sake ; But the camel's back was broken, it is said, with that last straw — And we cannot help this yearning for the flavor of pawpaw. THE WEST VIRGINIA BANANA 93 What care we for golden pippin, mellow pear, or plum or peach, If the Mountain State banana only comes within our reach? There s a vacancy within us that is aching to be filled. Which defies the orchard's beauties or the dish of cook well skilled ; But this hunger on our vitals for another year must gnaw, For they say there is a failure of the luscious, rich pawpaw. 94 THE CATBIRD THE CATBIRD THERE 'S a merry little beggar in a tree Who persistently declines to let me be — In the morning, very early, He performs a hurly-burly, Qyite enough to make me surly — For I 'm longing still in dreamland far to flee. He 's the sleekest dressed of all the feathered race, And he needs no gorgeous dyes to give him grace ; Clad in raiment unassuming, On his neatness, rather, pluming. He outdoes the rest in grooming — Cannot tolerate a feather out of place. He is first to greet the coming of the day, And the last to chant as twilight fades away ; Also in the sultry nooning. You may hear him gently crooning, Or in merry accents tuning As he perches on the cherry's highest spray, Hs 's a jolly little joker, and he takes From the others all the trills with which he wakes ; Steals the thrush's choicest treasure, Robs the redbird of a measure. Uses robin's notes at pleasure, In the medley of the melody he makes. THE PASSING OF SUMMER 95 THE PASSING OF SUMMER ^TILL there .are lovely flowers A^_y And pleasant garden bowers ; Still bluebirds gather near With songs of merry cheer ; Still gentle breezes bring Their scented offering. It seems, perhaps, we make Sometimes a grave mistake. When thoughtlessly we call This time of year the Fall. A fall 's a tumble — drop — A sort of flipper-flop ; But this — this is a slide, A gentle, languid glide From golden summer time To crisp and silver rime. Sweet calm is everywhere : We breathe a smoke-cured air ; The trees are gaily dressed As in their Sunday best ; The mellowed sunbeams give Delight to all who live. 96 THE PASSING OF SUMMER There is no sharp-drawn line To carefully define The torrid season's end ; But dexterously blend The good old summer days And Autumn's azure haze. And so We go On slow, And though We know It s so. We feel we cannot say That Summer 's passed away. Yet soon the trees will shed Their duds of gold and red, Preparing for their deep And placid winter sleep; And some day there will be Decline in mercury, And rain, and snow, and sleet, Red noses and cold feet. And chills, and ague shakes. And grip, with all its aches. And doctors for these ills. With pills and squills and bills. But now, such things are not ; It 's neither cold nor hot ; But simply, grandly, fine ! Deliciously divine ! THE GAME 97 L THE GAME ONG time hath passed since then, but still, When memory brings the scene to view, My bosom feels the burning thrill Which then, in Love's first hour, I knev/. Youth's brightest charms lay on her face, Where roses bloomed in Alpine snows ; Where dim.pling laughter loved to chase Each faint attempt at calm repose. Her s'ender ha"d hung o'er the board, In doubt to choose the proper piece ; Up-on her smiling lips the word Half died before it found release. A maiden, perfect as a flower ! A happiness without a sorrow 1 To spend so sweetly such an hour, Who would not from the future borrow ? Twas long ago ; the very game Betokens what our course hath been— Now here, now there— what recked the player? It mattered not v/hich one should win. 93 A SUSPENSION OF HOSTILITIES A SUSPENSION OF HOSTILITIES DE WADDLE'S son had earned his father's ire, And had been bidden to his room retire ; Where he must bide (the dreadful sentence ran) In durance vile till morn remove the ban. Scarce had the deep toned town clock six times tolled The hours that follow noon, when in that hold The youth's dire lot was cast. Fiercely he raged. Like to a catamount that 's newly caged. Till on the floor he fljng himself, and there, O'erwhelmed at last by terrible despair. He heaved convulsive sobs, and groans, and sighs. And scalding teardrops gushed from both his eyes. As thus he lay, unto his spirit came A feeble light, which grew like beacon's flame, That flickers first, then steady grows and bright. Until its ruddy radiance fills the night. With eyes dilate, and surging wrath renewed. The youth arose and struck an attitude Which Ajax with approval might have viewed ; Then with his fist he smote his swelling breast And dared his father do his worst and best. A SUSPENSION OF HOSTILITIES 99 "Aha!" cried he, (for in the tales he'd read, So stood the heroes, and such words they said) — "Aha ! Henceforth forever I '11 be free ! No pent up slave in Utica I 'II be ! The time at last is come ; this very night Far from this place of woe I bend my flight ! Henceforth a mighty hunter I will roam, And all the boundless west shall be my home. I '11 raise a long mustache and flowing hair ; I '11 chase the mountain lion to his lair ; The highest of the Rockies I will scale. And follow hot upon the Red Man's trail To rescue beauteous maids from his caresses And have them staunch my wounds with golden tresses. I 'fl be the mortal foe of beasts and men, And all the world shall read of 'Bully Ben.'" Thus having said, bold Benjamin went o'er The sum and substance of his worldly store : Few pennies ; 3^et m marbles, knives and cord, Richer by far than many a landed lord. Then, on the margin of that wild romance, "Daredevil Dick, the Duke in Deerskin Pants," He roughly wrote : "proud parent fare the wel Thy hotty ruff i leve i Will not tel Why i depart accept your crewel coarse Again farewel dont die of Wild remorse For i am hapy Yours no longer Ben. Tel Ma Goodby until We meat again" Lora 100 A SUSPENSION OF HOSTILITIES He pinned this cramped epistle to the wall And waited for the friendly night to fall. He sat and watched the sinking of the sun, When all the west with gore seemed overrun ; While fancy turned the shadows of the trees To skulking, red-skinned aborigines ; And he, with an imaginary gun. Keen-eyed, pursued and slew them, one by one. Yet, when the jingling supper-bell was rung, A misty veil before his eyes there hung. And half he wished — but no ! he must be brave Who hopes to rend the shackles of the slave ! So, pacing slowly up and down the floor. He turned his father's insults o'er and o'er. Until his mind, where meaner thoughts had mixed. Was now once more on freedom firmly fixed. At last night's shadows deepened far and wide ; The tree-frog trilled his lay, and loud replied His deep-voiced cousin from the neighboring ditch ; While sang the owl in mellow tones and rich ; Old Morpheus now with juice of poppy steeps The darkened air, and all the household sleeps — The hour has come : the epoch making hour. The death of serfdom and the birth of power ! Sleep on, good folks ! and happy be your dreams — You will be sad enough when morning beams ! The hour has come ; the youth full well has planned His course to freedom ; with a dextrous hand A SUSPENSION OF HOSTILITIES 101 The shutter stealthily he opens wide : Two sheets, well-knotted, to the low sill tied, Will lower him to earth— to earth ! and then Hurrah for freedom and for Bully Ben ! He sits upon the sill ; the pale moon shines ; The white clothes drying on a neighbor's lines Gleam like gaunt specters, swaying to and fro. And shivers down his spinal column go. He hears De Waddles, senior, in his sleep. Snore like seme ogre in his cavern keep ; < The time, the hour, the very moment's here When from these scenes the youth must disappear. He scales the sill and downward glides — alas ! Did ever hero come to such a pass ? His aftward garment with hook entangles. And high in air proud young De Waddles dang- les! In this predicament he turns his hope To climbing up the knotted linen rope ; He tugs and pulls, but tugs and pulls in vain — The rope above his reach is rent in twain ! Trust now, O Ben, unto thy tailor's stitches. And eke the textile strength of thy knee breeches ! For, should they fail thee in this trial sore. Thou must be dropped full thirteen feet or more ! Ah, what an awful end for one so young ! And yet, what shame it were thus to be hung Till morn reveal thee to the passers by ; Like some old tavern symbol, hung on high ! 102 A SUSPENSION OF HOSTILITIES One hope, and only one, before him lies : He must depend for succor on his cries ; So, out upon the night air wildly ring Full many shouts and shrieks most harrowing. Up go the windows over all the town, The doors burst open, folks rush up and down, Until at last, there in the moon's full ray. They see a sight that fills them with dismay. "A ladder ! Br^ing a ladder 1" many shout. The while the village bells ring madly out, Excited people throng in tumult wild, And see aloft De Waddles' luckless child. Illumined brightly by the full round moon ; A dreadful sight — enough to make one swoon ! At length the youth is safely brought to land. Relieved of great suspense ; yet all demand The reason of his hanging — how and why? His only answer is again to cry ; Whereat his father, guessing shrewdly well, Explains just how the accident befell. And from that m.om.ent of distress and shame Young Ben De Waddles grew more mild ar tame. And having cast aside all vain romance. Now honors both his parents and his pants. THE NIGHT-BLOOMING CEREU3 103 THE NIGHT-BLOOMING CEREUS WE gathered round the stranger from the South, ^ .^ , The rough, ungainly plant with ragged leaves. Brought from its native land of sun and drouth, Forlornly sad, as one in exile grieves. July's bright sun had set ; the western field Of heaven showed the new moon's silver thread, And we, like worshipers, devoutly kneeled To watch the buds unto their glory spread. A waxen flower, jutt touched with tint of cream. Lifting its petals as a sentient thing ; We saw them softly move, and drank the stream Of fragrant ichor welling from the spring. Within the deep recess, now opening fast. What fairy work, so intricate, so fine ! Nay; even Eastern marvels are surpassed — No genie ever wrought such fair design ! 104 PEACE That flower so rich should grace so poor a leaf ! That was the wonder by the hp expressed ; And yet we knew that by such high relief The Father teaches to His children best. Out of the darkness He created light ; Out of the slime He draws the purest flower ; From gloomy clouds come crystals dazzling white From deepest woe the soul leaps into power. A PEACE WAY from the town and its worry, From life and its struggles away ! How happy and peaceful the moments So passed on a fair April day ! Where falls the tall sycamore's shadow On eddy just spotted with foam ; Where, down in the depth of the water, The gamy black bass has his home. To lie on the sward with the bluets, And list to the oriole's song, And breathe the sweet air of the forest- No day can be ever too long. WHILE SILVER CLINKS 105 WHILE SILVER CLINKS DEAL out the drinks! What matter though a woman's heart May burst with bitter grief ? Will not this silver soothe the smart And bring my soul relief? Hear how it clinks ! Deal out the drinks ! Deal out the drinks! Though souls be damned and ruin come ; Though health and home be wrecked, This appetite of man for rum Shall not by me be checked While silver clinks! Deal out the drinks ! Deal out the drinks ! Destroy the god-like mind of man ; Pervert this earth to hell ! What miatters the Creator's plan, While we have rum to sell. And silver clinks? Deal out the drinks ! 106 THE SOUL'S RELEASE THE SOUL'S RELEASE DEATH is a dreadful thing ; But not to him who dies, For to his yearning eyes Come gleams of Paradise To ease his suffering. 'Tis full of dread to those Who sadly linger here, And see, year after year. Fond faces disappear ; Theirs are the keenest throes. Theirs is the bitterness ; Theirs are the grief and pain ; The sorrowful refrain : "He will not come again !" Brings ever nev/ distress. O aching hearts, find peace In this sweet thought alway ; We, too, shall fly away ! Then welcome that glad day When gets the soul release ! CORDELIA 107 CORDELIA I LOOKED upon her face, and beauty there Shone as the richest gem that fits a crown ; Her low, pale brow, as Aphrodites' fair, Had never known the gathering of a frown ; Her lips were faultless, and they seemed but made For liquid words that lovers linger o'er ; Her eyes had caught from Heaven the deep blue shade And quiet power that made my heart adore. But more than beauty in her face I met. Of value more than all the winning grace And sweet components of a woman's power ; The comely virtues, one and all, had set Their freshest charms upon the maiden's face And given her the pureness of a flower. 108 NOVEMBER NOVEMBER THERE is no month in all the year But brings its due amount of cheer ; Yet, one above the rest I prize : November — month of gloomy skies ! Then comes the merry annual feast, With than'iful hearts for stores increased, For hope, f3r friends, for love's caress, For lengthened life and happiness. Though blighting frost has killed the flowers, And sunshine yields to drizzling showers. With flurries now and then of snow, — November sets the heart aglow. What care I for the coming cold? What care I though the year be old? From yonder gray and gusty arch /Eolus plays our wedding march ! A VALENTINE 109 Thanksgiving Day recalls to mind The many blessings that I find While traveling this round of life. But none more precious than my wife. And so again I bravely say. Sing ye of June or sing of May, No other month of all the year Has brought me half November's cheer. A VALENTINE AS, when the evening shades appear, The fond dove seeks the friendly tree, His loving mate to softly cheer. So, fondly v/ould I turn to thee. As from the hills the rivulet Does onward strive to reach the sea. Through devious ways with anxious fret, So ever turns my life to thee. True as the day does follow night. Where'er on earth my lot may be, In storm or calm, in dark or light. My thoughts, dear love, will turn to thee. no COURAGE COURAGE ! HEAREST thou not how the wild wind is sighing Its cares to the leafless and shuddering tree? Hear est thou not the dark branches replying, Repining at Winter's unfeeling decree? Seest thou not how the great clouds are driven Like misshapen monsters, in weird, silent flight? Seest thou not how the fair stars of heaven Yield up to those monsters their beautiful light? Yet will the wind, that so sadly is wailing. Right cheerfully sing of rare beauty and love ; Yet the tree bloom, and the clouds, onward sail- ing. Reveal the pure stars still in splendor above. Yield not thy heart to despairing emotion ; Blench not when the storms of the worldlings arise ; Calm be thy breast as the depth o the ocean Though envious minds toss its foam to the skies. JACK KIRBY'S COON 1 1 1 JACK KIRBY'S COON A Ballad of the Hills COME, gather near, good people, while I pick the banjo string. An' listen to the ballad that I am about to sing. It's partly of a little boy, Jack Kirby was his name, An' partly of a little coon as was owned by that same ; A feller from the country as was very fond o' Jack, Had left it with him, sayin' it was sharper than a tack; An' you can bet that it was sharp ; why, coons jest nat'rally are ; They make a sort o' link betwixt a monkey an' a b'ar With now an' then a glint o' fox a-peepin' frum their eyes. An' playin' off at times jest like a possum when he dies. An' that 'ere coon that Jack possessed was not behind the rest — in fact, 1 rayther think for smartness he could beat the best. 112 JACK KIRBY'S COON The little sharp-nosed, ring-tailed cuss was always in for sport ; Jack had it christened Jupiter, but called it Jupe for short. Say, you've seen monkeys, an' you know the measly tricks they do ? Well, that 'ere coon was equal to a full-sized monkey crew. When Jack first shov/ed him at the house, he was a reg'lar pet ; They 'd stroke his fur, an' praise his tail, an' liked to see him set An' eat a lump o' sugar or a piece o' frosted cake ; An' when he v/alked, they laughed an' laughed — you 'd ought to see 'em shake ! They fattened it with honey served in a silver spoon ; There wasn' t nothin' in the house too good for that 'ere coon, An' Granma Kirby, most of all, appeared to take delight In watchin' of its antics, jest because it seemed so bright. She said 'at Jupe rem'n'led her so much o' little Jack, Especially when settin' up — it hunched so in the back! An' then they' d git to laughin' an' they' d wink at one another. An' say aloud, "Poor little Jupe ! He wants to look like brother !" JACK KIRBY'S COON 113 But that was in the first few weeks — a sort o' honeymoon, When Jack an' Jupe was happy, till a change come, all too soon. The novelty was all wore off; the fam'ly ceased to laugh, An' even Granma Kirby 'most forgot to sling her chaff. Though little Jack unto the coon still steadfast was and true. He couldn't git 'em to applaud the things that coon would do. And sad indeed it is to say, but yet 1 must relate That Granma's cool indifference soon turned to bitter hate. You see, it was about this way : Like all the sharp-nosed kind. That furry little creetur had a most enquirin' mind. So, when he seen a ball o' yam a-layin' on the floor. He 'd pull it all to pieces, jest to see what's at the core; An' that, o' course, made Granma wroth, because it was her ball. An' she 'd attack it with the broom, till Jack raised up a squall. One time, while waitin' for Jack's pa, the sup- per table set. An' all had gathered round the fire, that pesky little pet 1 f 4 JACK KIRBY'S COON Slipped in the kitchen unbeknown an' dumb the table there. An' went a-snoopin' roun' among the bits o' china- ware. At length he found the bowl in which they kep' the sugar stored. An' undertook to help himself a little frum the hoard ; An act, o' course, resultin' in upsettin' o' the bowl. Which set out, frum its natur', on the table for to roll, With Jupe a' scramblin' after — Say, there was an awful crash ! An' broken dishes on the floor was mingled up with hash ! The fam'ly come a-rushin' in — it was a sickly sight. And supper was a little late in bein' served that night. That raised a great excitement, an* poor Jupe was doomed to die ; But little Jack stood by him, with a hot tear in his eye, Like Pocahontas savin' Smith ; he dared 'em do their worst, An' said if they killed Jupiter they'd have to kill him first. His pa was mad as he could be, an' dragged the coon to death ; Swore he would chop his neck right through, so he would lose his breath ; JACK KIRBVo COON 115 But Jack he clung unto his arm, an' pa begun to melt. Because he'd been a boy hlsself, an' knowed jest how boys felt So, spite of all the argyments that Granma she could say. Jack held the fort, an' Jupiter was still allowed to stay. You 've seen some children that was raised by ^ parents good and kind, 1 hat was allowed to come an' go jest when they had a mind ; That when they wanted things to eat would open closet doors An' help themselves to bread an' cake or any other stores ; An' be so free an' easy, like they 's partners in the place. An' never 'lowed a sneakin' look to spoil an honest face ? 1 've seen 'em an' admired 'em, for they always made me feel There's young folks growin' up as don't know what it is to steal. An' then again, I 'low you've seen some little folks too scared To speak above a whisper, an' that never would have dared To hint that they was hungry when the things was put away, 116 JACK KIRBY'S COON For fear their kind mama would box their ears for bein' gay ; But when their ma had skipped out to a neigh- bor's 'cross the street, Them little kids would rummage for some things that they could eat ; They'd do it in a manner that was so exceedin' sly 'Twas calculated to deceive their ma's most prac- ticed eye — A little lump o' sugar, or a tiny slice o' cake, A little this, a little that— whatever they could take Of things to ease that gnawin' pain, without their ma's perceivin*; An' so they growed up little thieves, all lyin' an' deceivin'. An' had a sort o' hunted look, expectin' all the time To be surprised an' punished for committin' some big crime. But Jupe was not a human, so it would be hardly fair To class him with the children of a too partickler pair ; An' yet he seemed to know that they was watch- in' him right close. An' waitin' for a chance to give him jest one salty dose ; So he acquired a sneakin' way o' wanderin' about, JACK KIRBVS COON 117 An' when they thought he was within, sometimes he VN as without ; An' when they thought he was without, of course he was within — In that respect the cat an* Jupe was very much akin. You know how sly the cat is, when it 's time to close the house — She 11 seek the darkest corner an' lay quiet as a mouse. Then sometimes Jupe would sneak upstairs, cin' climbin' on the bed. Would shut his eyes aui' curl his tail to cover up his head ; But woe unto that sleepy coon if Granma found him there! She'd take the broomstick to him an' would drive him frum his lair. Still, he was rayther obstinate, an' though he 's druv away, 'Twas very like they 'd find him snuggled on the bed next day. Once Granma Kirby missed him, so she slipped soft up the stairs, A-thinkin' she could catch him on the bed all unawares ; But no, the bed was vacant, an' it had no holler place, So, if the critter 'd been there, it had gone an' lef no trace, irS JACK KIRBY'S COON An' for a moment Granma thought she M lost the trail complete. An* with a sigh she *