AAftA^ft^^^nft^^:fift AA/^ra J0^^f^^mtif M^A( ,/^or^A^^AAfWf r:-^ . « '. ^r^i f^r^rm^'^mmmm^f^hmZ^^^Z:, •m ■A A /*» (^ /*^/-Ann A A r<* A a aAaa « , .; A/^*, AA^AAr^^f^AA^A^l 11^'^^A^i^ A^Mif LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. ONITED STATES OF AMEEICA. kMAfift :»Mm,.,.^«f^^ ^rsAr\AnA/^...A, ,miftftAA^^^^ia.AAA^a^^ .i^&'/^.hVr:/.-^\K^hl. imf>,mm, mmhhmM0^ff'm \kk^ ^^^f^ A^ ilii^f^^ A/^AA^ArtAAW C^^'-r;:iSl^^#^i^^^^^ ^r!^^f,r^^^f^^^^^0^^ '^Af\/\AfS HmMMi A^^^mDm,. A(^KAtt'^AA^«.A,.*A .■ ..aA.aaAa'^.AA!^ n.r^f^!^Wfim hhhti.k, '^f^mf^^Atj^ AAAaAA.aaaA^ :^mf^mm^N^f^^m^^ AAA-AA^AA'^^Ai .l^a^A^v^:^ ffffff^f^m^ ,;^m^mmm^ '^ftftftft I'IAaama SEABURY &: JOHNSON, Manufacturers of MEDICINAL, ADHESIVE, CORN, BUNION, COURT, KID, MUSTARD, SPREAD, PHARMACEOTICAL AND SURGICAL P LASTERS OF EVERY DESCRIPTION, IN THE MOST APPROVED FORM. Absorbent, Borated, Carbolated, Salicylated and Styptic Cottons, Antiseptic Euca- lyptol, Iodoform, and Thymol Gauze ; Roller, Rubber Elastic, Antiseptic Flannel, Antiseptic Linen, and Linen Finish Bandages; Cotton-Wool; Gutta-Percha Tissue; Absorbent Hospital Lint; Oil-Silk and Muslin ; Protective Oil- Silk; Catgut Ligature; Assorted Sizes ; Mackintosh Cloth, Jute, Plain and Medicated ; Oakum ; Spongio Pilihe ; Mead's Surgical Dressing Paper ; and every variety of Surgical and Antiseptic Dressings, Office and Salesroom, 21 Platt STREET, NEW YORK. HOTELWARWICK SPRINGFIELD, MASS. A new and first-class Hotel, loo feet north of Railroad Station. Elegantly Burnished throughout; Elevator and all modern im- provements. \VM. HILL, Proprietor, who is also proprietor of Hill's Mansion House, Easthampton, INIass., a first-class summer resort, accommodating 150 guests. Easthampton, one of the most beautiful towns in New England, is reached from New York via the N. Y. & N. H. and Northampton Railroads. The Author ("Harry Holland") is a frequent guest. THE OWL Spoken of in the poem on page seven was not a l/z'e creature, as the reader maj" have sup- posed, but a stitffed bird, so cleverly' mounted and archly perched upon a crescent above the mirror in my den^ that he was often mistaken for an animate specimen. The taxidermist who arranged this "broad- faced turkey" is one of the most ingenious workmen in the country. His address is C. W. GRAHAM, ST. JOHNSBURY, VT, A SELECTION OF Dialect Poems; WRITTEN ON THE RAIL, AND DEDICATED TO THE ARK' OF THE GRIPSACK." BY , ''HARRY^OLLAND. (h. J. RICHARDSON,) WHO, ASIDE FROM THE PLEASANT TASK OF TRYING TO AMUSE HIS ASSOCIATES WITH THl COLLECTION OF SCRAPS, HAS THE HONOR TO REPRESENT SEABUJ^Y & JOHNSON, MANUFACTURING CHEMISTS, NEW YORK AND I.ONDON. Copyright, 1884, by H. J. RICHARDSON. BOSTON : TRAVELLERS PUBLISHING COMPANY 1884. CO NTENTS. '^^^ 3? F The Owl . Page. 7 Stubs .... age.. 59 Nature 10 Rub-a-dub . 60 1st Sermon from the Preacher New 12 5th Sermon from the Preacher New 63 Josiah Nettleton . 15 The Hoosier Tramp . 67 Jane from Kamtuck 19 Johannes Oderbracher 74 Christine Friebold 24 Somebody's Darling . 78 Shonny Keppler . Excelsior , 27 29 After the Battle . The Angler . 80 81 3d Sermon from the New Diedrich und Heinrich 82 Preacher Rufus .... 30 32 An Hour in a Hoosier "Justis's " Office . . 84 Shtop a Leedle . 34 Truth .... 85 The Siege of Monty Hill 36 Loweza Friebold 87 Ned's Old Hat . . 37 OldReub . 89 Seltzer Vasser . . 38 The Mill . 91 A Slumber Song . . 40 Pat's Courtship . 93 The Turn of the Game 41 The Sword of Bunker Hill, 94 TheConnaught Boy's L 3d Sermon from the Preacher ament, New 42 43 6th Sermon from the New Preacher From Labor to Refreshment, 96 99 Herzberger . 46 Butterworth's Thanksgiving, 100 4th Sermon from the Preacher Got Left . New 48 51 A Gigantic Monopoly . The Wayside Inn Ideal . . . . 102 103 105 By-lo-by . 52 Lecture on Suicides . 106 Letitia Ha! ha! . 53 54 Jack and Jill After a Little While . 107 109 My Dog Patsey . 56 All's Well . III The Wandering Jew 58 Good-bye . 112 (6) Dedicatien arid Preface. To the great and ever-increasing army of the grip- sack, the COMMERCIAL TOURIST, the BACHELOR OF COM- MERCE, the "Drummer," and to all good people who love Nature, I dedicate this collection of humble songs ; not "in response to the desire of many friends," etc., but really to do good and make money. As it may not be generally known to what extent the business of traveling solicitor has grown within a few years, it may with propriety be stated here that there are in the United States, to-day, upward of two hundred thousand "Drummers" on the road, costing their em- ployers some six hundred million dollars per annum to conduct their business. The writer himself feels proud of the distinction of being one among them, and it has ever been his desire to raise (morally and socially) the standard of the Commercial Traveler. Cognizant of the fact that "there are black sheep in every flock," and that some men now bearing the title above alluded to are a detriment to the craft, I have yet to find one who, in his heart, would willfully or maliciously disgrace his title. Many people believe that (3) the " C. T." is a carefully prepared and artfully set trap, to catch the unwary, and beguile him into the snare, then despoil him of his pelf. But, dear reader, the average man who has become entitled to the degree of *'B. C." (Bachelor of Commerce), is a. shrewd, energetic, persevering, and undaunted ally to the best interests of commerce, albeit he often uses enticing means to divert the attention of his intended customer ; yet, of the many who are called, but few are chosen to fill the responsible and arduous task of being a successful Driunjuer. It is with the earnest hope of lightening some of your cares, and shortening the weary miles, that I address you in the role of an impersonator of Dialect; and I sincerely trust that you will not too harshly criticise my pen- pictures, but patiently await the Autumn of Life, when, like the leaves, the color of my songs may change, al- though the shape remain. It is hardly to be supposed that one so young as the Author could summon both sublime and amusing thoughts, at will, in the midst of increasing business pursuits, and put them in such shape as to be appreciated by the pro fessional critic ; but it is to be hoped that they may bring to you (and all good people generally) a realization of a great truth, that be a man a Gentile or a Jew, a German or a Celt, a Mongolian or a Turk, still **a man's a man for a' that ; " and should this humble little collection of scraps meet your approval, do not give me the praise, for it is due to one who has taught me the sweet lesson of life cheerfulness f and imbued me with such a sense of (4) gratitude that I devote one of the foremost places in this volume to praise the name of dear old Nature. I love her so well that some things she has taught me are precious keepsakes. They are treasured in my heart as sunshine and gladness, and many a time has the re- membrance of her precepts made glad the heart of "Happy Harry." Living — I loved j but not alone one object. Nay I 'Twere vain all Nature should lack my esteem : Her love I sought to gain ; and, loving her, I saw Returned her love and light to me. So when My time shall come, I'll go — and bow to Her decree. If it be life — I die to live; Should it prove death— I I'ved to die. May heaven's morn disclose to me A home, a resting-place for aye. Fac-simile of a postal-card used on the road by the Author: — ^ / am coming on ar about A worthy Quaker thus wrote : '' I expect to pass through this world but once \ if, therefore, there is any kindness I can show, or any good thing I can do, to any fellow-being, let me do it NOW. Let me not defer it or neglect it, FOR I SHALL NOT PASS THIS WAY AGAIN" [for 60 days]. HARRY J. RICHARDSON, Permanent address, box 2805, Boston, Mass. (5) NOTTSS. THEE JANE MAR' HOSS MENSHUNED IN THESE BUK IS NOT ENTURED FORE ENNYTHING BUT SECKONED-CLASS MALE MATTER; ALLSO, THEE UTHER IN- DEVIDDUALS, MAIL AN' FEE MAIL, SPOKEN OF HEREIN. THEE ORTHUR. Wit ®utl [A Poetical Romance.] In a quaint old country villa, Flanked by porch and ancient pillar, Is my den, where I sit, pensive, Thinking of the old and new, As I smoke my fragrant concha, And anon sip draughts of Mocha ; While above my l\,ead, "old Croaker " Flutters, shakes, and (pensive, too) Opens wide his wondrous orbits As he calls, " T'whit ! t'whoo 1 " All about me, in confusion, Manuscript of late effusion Lie in scattered heaps and masses ; Mingled are the old and new. I look peering in a mirror. As the shadows deepen, nearer, Dreaming of the one life dearer — Than my own, if it be true ; While the owl above me flutters. Gapes, and screams, " T'whit ! t'whoo ! In a sort of aberration, I sit thinking of my station, Of my kin and near relation — Wondering if it all be true That this earth is elemental, And we mortals supplemental, But in death become immortal, When our journey here is through. Still the owl doth blink, and faintly, Feebly cries, " T'whit ! t'whoo ! " (7) *.e. ^v-o-v\A-/ Lying at my feet, a creature — Genus canine — from Dalmatia : Lithe of limb, correct in feature, Is my trusted friend and true. All about me are the relics Of my wanderings in the tropics ; Strewn among them, ancient lyrics Of the sages, old and new. Nothing breaks the solemn stillness Save the owl's " T'whit ! t'whoo ! '' Resting on a bit of lava, Is a quaint old vase from Java ; And behind, an ancient salver, Fashioned by a famed Hindoo. Here and there a bit of sketching. Ecru work and curious etching; Rare, odd bits I've been collecting From all countries, old and new. Here is peace and quiet ever, Save the owl's "T'whit! t'whoo ! " As I dreamed (soon lost in slumber), There was naught else I remember But that angels, without number, Came as friends, — the old and new, And with joy I was transported. Soon my weary soul peace parted. But as sudden then I started, Waking only but to view The sage owl, who solemn murmured Nothing but " T'whit ! t'whoo ! " Then it was that I lamented That my new friends soon departed, (8) And I tried to feel contented With my lot. This end in view, I redoubled my endeavor To be true to self, and ever Make the most of life, and never Scorn the old friends for the new. As a witness of my promise, Chirped the owl, '* T'whit! t'whoo S) *|nltir$. Nature, I love thee ! and I'd bask Within thy welcome heart awhile : No greater pleasure do I ask Than live within thy sunny smile. Thy love in all around I see ; There is no void — no faulty space; Forever in my mind thou'lt be If I may daily see thy face. The sun shone brightly, and its ray Dazzled mine eye, as languidly I dropped to rest, one summer day, On mossy bank. There, pensively, I pondered on the ways of life, Its varied lessons, and its cares ; The love, the joy, the pain, and strife, The ripened sheaves, the thorny tares„ I laid me down beneath an oak, Where, shaded by its gen'rous leaves, I listened to the cheery song Of reapers, binding up their sheaves. The music seemed to cast a spell About me as I lingered there ! And influences too sweet to tell. Were drawn unto me from the air. The lowing kine upon the lea That stretched before me, and the brook vVhich gamboled on toward the sea, The cooling shadow of my nook. All seemed so peaceful and serene ; The little birds above my head, The meadow-land, whose verdure green Made softest carpet to the tread, — (10) They seemed united, and to say, " This is God's handiwork, my son ; And Nature, laboring her own way, Sees the Creator's work is done.'* So time rolls on, and seasons change, With sunshine, shadow, summer rain While Nature doth all things arrange, Repeating life's stern work again. I mused no longer, for 'twould seem That life, unless I did my part, . Was nothing but an idle dream. I took this lesson to my heart, As, moralizing, this I learned : That what was left of life for me Was little, as I'd just discerned; The next scene was — eternity. So, rousing from my summer dream, I rose to labor, with my heart Imbued witH gratitude and joy, That still a chance to do my part Was open ; and to so improve My physical and mental power. That time itself could not remove, Though cloud and sun combine to lower, The impulse which that day I gained To do whate'er there was with might. But — come now! if it had not rained, I might have stayed there until night. However, you will take my part. At least to say the point is good. And, coming freely from the heart. It offers to the mind good food. (II) l$t firman fram i\t 'ffut Jvu^n. *' My breddren ! fo' de fust time now I'se come to dis yer town T' 'splain de Gospel ; and de truf — • I'se gwine to lay kt^ down. " I wants yer to bin listnin', An t' bar de Word ob God ; To-day I'se gwine to p'omulgate 'Bout ole Arion an' his rod. " Fustly, my breddren, dat ar man Done lead dem chillen froo A heap ob trouble — ^dy'e see? — Befo' dat home dey view. " Now Arion, him got mighty peart, Tuk Moses partner dar ; Hit tuk a ter'ble heap ob time To git bofe notions clar ! " But dey riz rite up from Egyp' Ian' An' tole ole Faro no ! De lash dey wa'n't a gwine to stan', Fer dey war boun' to go ! " I don't want any ob de coons In de gallery ober dar To 'sturb dis meetin' any mo' ! You — stop dat pulHn' ha'r! (12) ' I tell you, sinners — sure's yer born Dar's gwine to be less noise. Will Brudders Downey, Jones, an' Horn Jes' git among deni boys? ' Now, breddren, I'll tuk up de fred Ob my prevarication, and — Hit dat niggah on de head, Else I 'smiss de congregation ! ' Continuin' now wid my remarks, Dem chillen couldn't stan' Dat onery P'aro an' his hos'; Dey pined for Canaan's Ian'. ' Soon in de mornin* dey riz up, As ca'm as dey could be, And trabbled till dey reached dat sho' Dat's by de big Red Sea. "Yes, breddren, dis yer Arion bold, App'inted fo' de Lawd, Done smote a rock ! out flew dat stream, And fill up all deir gourd. "■ Fer dey was thirsty ; dey had come Free hundred mile or mo' ; But wen dey lef ' ole Faro's house, Fergot fer t' shut dat do' ! "Ole Faro done come bilin' down; But Arion, him dat quick, He fotch dem chillen to de sho', An' stretch out daf ar stick I (13) *' De wabes roll back ! dat sea gabe way ! Dem chillen all got free ! But Faro's hos' done perish dar, In de middle ob dat sea ! " Hallelujah ! What ye say dar, sister ? Whar Moses bin all dis yer time ? Wal, io' de Lawd, I couldn't tell 'Dout spilin' dis yer rhyme ! " De quire now sing dat good ole 'sa'm De forty- 'leven 'tickler meter! And you, Reub Buckman, wak' up dar!- You har ? — and pass dat sasser ! '^ (14; [A Yankee Prototype.] Nestled among the gray mountains of Maine, (Which, by the way, are historic in fame,) Rests a small hamlet of three hundred souls, Sheltered from storms by great pine-covered knolls, Here, in the quiet seclusion of life. On a broad farm, lived a farmer and wife. Childless, for many a long, changeful year, Lost to the world, not a relative near. Fairly possessed of a bountiful share Of what was needful to eat, drink, and wear. They lived, united in labor and cares, Pleasures and griefs, for full forty years. " Josiah Nettleton " — that was his name ; " See him to-day, to-morrow the same ; " Sinewy muscular, strong as a bull. Yet of good-naturedness *'jest brimmin' fulL" Nose like a meat-axe, eye of a hawk ; "Summ'at" decisive when he made talk; Clean as an alder, straight as an ash. Sharp as a brier, quick as a flash ; He was the sort you read about now — Firm in conviction, and, I'll allow. Nothing would tempt him to be meanly wrong ; I never saw him with anger unstrung. Some of his gossiping neighbors, I know, Said " 'Siah Nettleton wan't very slow Closin' a mor'gage or cashin' a note." I never judged a man, though, by his coat. (15) Clad in the old-fashioned homespun of gray, Manly in heart, with a pure, simple way, Which in itself was enough to insure Honest, square dealing with rich or with poor ; Upright, unselfish, blunt as a rock, Bred from the old-fashioned, pure Plymouth stock. Seventy years of sunshine and storm, Modeled him in the true pioneer form. Such was his character. He was a man Fashioned and tempered by God's righteous plan ; While his good helpmate — a fit counterpart Of his plain nature, as well as his heart — Learned the sweet lesson early in life How to become a pure, honest wife ; Simple and earnest in each word and deed. Ever a friend to the worthy in need. " Matilda " — that was the name of the wife — Was the very essence of old " Si's " life. She had odd days, and queer spells, to be sure, But ever and always was kind to the poor. The sick and afflicted, the weak and distressed. All knew " Mother Tildy's " plain Quaker dress ; And the love in her keen gray eye assured No comfort was lack which could be procured. Her voice, low and sweet, like note of a bird. Hushed many a heart by anger disturbed ; Her creed, plain and simple, the Golden Rule — Grand prototype of an old-fashioned school. Josiah toiled, and garnered his grain " W/ii/e the sun shone ; " yet should the rain Drive him indoors — there was plenty to do, Mending a chain or setting a shoe. (i6) Summer was past, and the autumn well spent ; Nature was glowing in gorgeous raiment ; The barns were well filled with sweet, fragrant hay ; The birds warbled softly a farewell lay To the woods and meadows, the fields and brooks, Where, hidden away in sequestered nooks, They had lived through summer, each with its brood ; Now they were chanting their great gratitude. Harvest was over ; the end of a year. With glad holidays and the good cheer Of Thanksgiving time, was quite near at hand ; Plenty and peace seemed to dwell in the land. jfosiah Nettleton's autumn was nigh ! The sturdy old yeoman, now sere and dry, Would quickly before the cold winter's blast Bend low his proud, hoary head — soon, at last. His Ufe had been but a pure, honest one, And there was naught he had left here undone ; 'Twas rumored about, 'though, for fact, indeed, That he " nQith.QX preached nor practiced a creed Of any church, sect, religion, or 'ism, And never had wished or received baptism ; Nor feared he a devil, or damning hell," As Watts and Calvin were once wont to telL He had, nevertheless, been upright and just. " No matter," said he, "if I go to dust, I'm satisfied with my heaven o?t earth ; And if there be God, he'll judge of my worth " By deeds, free thoughts, and the life I led here. If it pleases Him, then I'll go to that sphere Where love, as a beacon, shall guide me aright, And truth shall befriend, to give me ?nore light." (17) Slowly, but surely, the aged man failed, Hopeful to the last in his faith, nor quailed When death placed a mark upon him at last. Sinking to rest^ when the long day was past, Just as an infant lies sweetly to rest, Safe from all harm, on its own mother's breast. Humble, indeed, was the man's lowly birth, Peaceful and calm his last moments on earth. Up from the woodland a soft, gentle breeze Swept through the orchard's bare, leafless trees: When the day closed, with deep setting sun, Josiah Nettleton's labor was done. 'rrw^r^ (i8) |ntti from X^^^^w^'^* [A Hoss Story.] * Talkin' o' bosses, brings to mind A mar' I owned — the scamp ! Ye kin bet yer life the likes o' ker Aint tethered 'round f/iis camp ! High strung, purty, an'— trot? Well, now. Ye should ha' se'd her go ! Ye could lay yer pile to win, you bet, 'Till I whooped one little wAoa / Then she'd plank them for'ard feet, An' canter jest one side, While I — well — I'd be layin' low, Clus ter thet critter's hide. An' the way ske went war a caution Fer common folks fo take ! Even to walking — ye h'a. me, — • My mar' jest took the cake ! She war a onery critter, Thet ther' mar' o' mine ; Never seed sich a peart one, though — - She war one t' ninety an' nine. Got her down t' Kaintuck^ Summer o' sixty- five ; Reckoned sartin I'd fell in luck, Sure's I war alive 1 (19) She war a hummer, bet ye' life, The prettiest ever born ; An' when I tuk her hum to wife, She had t' ^knowledge corn / Said ''Jajie " war han'somer 'n her! I 'lowed hit mout be so ; Be as hit mout, 'r be as hit were, She could jest git up and go ! An' thar lay her beauty, I say : Ye could hunt the kentry roun', Thar warn't a beast in many a day Thet could beat her, I'll be boun' I Never druv her ter harness 'Cept a common halter slip, A' empty bag fer a saddle, ' Thout nary a spur n' whip. Oh, she war full o' natur', Chuck to the brim, you bet ! I set heaps by thet critter; She war my on'y pet. We moved West, on th' perary, An' I tuk my "Jane " along ; ' Twar ' bout the time our baby, The fust one, Jim, war born. Wal — squattin' 'mongst the sage-brush, 'Twan't much fun, I 'low; But "Jane " war a pow'ful heap 'o help, HauUn' thet ther' plow. She tuk right holt, I tell ye, 'S if she war one of us ; Han'led her jest like a child, y' see— Still, she couldn't /^/-^^ no wus. (20) Fer out *n thet ther kentry 'Twar ter'ble po' fer grass ; 'Thout much of any fodder, An' yaller corn war scace, So I druv one day to Bisma'k — Never teched th' rein ; She went Hke a streak — Didn't guess I'd never see 'er again ! She cum down to a stiddy lope, 'Bout 's we druv in town ; Didn't hitch — I'd lost my rope ; Says I, "She'll stan', I'm boun'." Drapped in Siias Bartrani's^ Cal'latin' to get some corn ; Dog-gone my skin ! when I cum out That " Jane " mar' she War gone ! I heer'd one whinner, a leetle snort; Then a hell-fired pile o' dust Riz up — an' the crowd were laffin',- I were mad enough ter bust! I'd been a-roostin' up on a bar'I, A-lushin' down the stuff, An' fergot all about the critter, While chawin' a hunk o' duff. Wal — we hunted all over creation ; But, thunder! hit war no use ; She always wus a caution Whenever she'd git let loose. Staid thar a huntin' 'bout a week, Then I steered fer hum ; Rid on a jackass 's fer's Bull Creek, Then had to hoof it some! (21) War kinder tol'ble bruk up When I sot eyes on the ranch, An' I felt meaner'n a d 'pup, As I war crossin' the branch. Wife cum outen to meet me thar; Se'd me humpin' along, Knowed what wus up — heered me swar, Reckoned suthin' war wrong. She stood thar 'n' laffed 'n' snickered, 'N' I thought I'd bust her head ! I WHS so tarnal bruk up, I didn't know what she said ; Fer she cimjured mo. sort o' crazy, I could'nt make t'other from which, An' my min' were kinder hazy, Like a knitter who's dropped a stitch. 'Till she hild out a letter from Billy, (What cum from town thet day) ; I bought from him thet ar'yf// Rest thou, my darling ; sleep, baby-girl, Dear little tired head, tangled in curl. Dimpled hands, clinging so tight to my breast, Loosen thy loving hold ; rest, baby, rest. There lies my idol, my heart, and my life, Peaceful, unconscious of trouble and strife. God bless my darling ; angels, draw nigh. By-lo, baby-girl ; by, baby, by ! I would live always, my baby, for thee; Oh, may you ever bring comfort to me ! Thou art my last love, the sweetest and best . Peace, little tired lamb ; rest, baby, rest. Father in heaven, look down this night ; Keep my heart's idol safe in thy sight : And while my prayer is ascending on high, By-lo by, baby-girl; by, baby, by. (40) 1^ Itmt xif i\t §nm. What is't ye call hit, dy'e say — Thet thar keerd game thet ye play? "Faro." Wal, now, I do declar', Hit do seem's ef 'twar mighty fair ! Ye bet on any in thet thar layout, And keep on a-bettin' till they play out I Mister, I'll put a pinch on the queen keerd ! Thar goes the dust — I ain't afeerd ! Come, show up, pardner ; let her go. Ha, ha ! I've won, eh ? Wa!, thet's so ! Ye kin let her lay — the whole durned pile ; Hit's mighty sartain not to spile. Hold on a bit ; I'll raise thet dust. An' plank the hull lot, win or bust ! Whoop ! thet thar's mine ! Say, pardner, come, Let's all ban's take a drink o' rum ! No ! yer " hain't drinkin'," dy'e say ? *' FHur7i the game ^^^ ye'd have me play ? Wal, just to please ye, here's the dosh ; I'll bust yer dog-goned bank, by gosh ! An' thunder an' litenin', hear me holler! That d d ole queen tuk my last dollar ! MORAL. Leave it when you've "got your fill,'' Or, maybe, that 'twere better still To let the d d game go to — well, thunder ! (41) 1|$ liitnttHtigli ^ntf^ "^mrnnl [A Ballad of The Rail.] Yara now, fwhile I lightin my dudeen, I'll sing you in thrue Irish shtyle, Of a swate but desavin' young colleen, Who dwelt in the Emerald Isle. Shure her name it was Biddy M'Car-ty, Her manners were plasing and foine ; While her welcome to me was so hear-ty She captured this poor heart of mine. CHORUS. Och hone ! but this illegant la-dy, She left me an' married a Bra-dy. Divil more of a jog will I work in the bog, But I'm off to de Westhern pe-ra-ry. Now, I had a copper or two laid away — For you know there be changes in wea-ther ; As the old sayin' is, *' For a rainy day, Look well to the horse an' his tether." I thought that me heart was anchored so fasht That the divil an' all couldn't shake me ; But I coorted so long shure the love didn't lasht ; Ah ! she run away wid a Bra-dy ! CHORUS. Och hone ! but this illegant la-dy, She left me an' married a Bra-dy. Divil more of a jog will I work in the bog. But I'm off to de Westhern pe-ra-ry. (42) "Chillen, dar's glory in de soun' Ob tuneful hearts, dat raise A psalm of Zion, as aroun' Dis yearth we sing God's praise. " Dis day am glorious an' bright ; De craps am risin' well ; An' all about us in de Ian' De buds an' blossoms swell. " Nature done 'ray herself dis day In weddin' robes so bright, Dat God hisse'f can't keep to home 'Dout showin' sinners light. " I'se heerd about dat onery place Dat some folks love so well To talk about; de fire an' smoke Ob an eternal hell. " But bress yer hearts, my chillen, no ! 'Cordin to common call, Dar a'int no sich place any mo', 'Cept right yere on dis ball. ^' Hell am de conscience, smitin' hard — Yer soul — when yer does wrongs : I Aspects dat plenty ob it, 'dough, Tu some ob us belongs. (43) " Yer- don't t'ink God would make de yearth, "Creatin' all de folk, Ter close de show by one gran' smash. An' bus' it all in smoke ? " Whar am de man done tole yer so ? God make de rich an' po' Ter glorify dem in his sight, Ter make dem larn an' grow. ** An"* when de fight am ober, Him stretch out dat strong arm, Ter took yer to his bosom, dere Safe from de debbil's harm. " An' speakin' 'bout de debbil — him Bin nuffin' but a t'ief Ob conscience, robbin' ob de soul All goodness — leabin' grief. " O sinner man, — my sister, too, — ■ I tole yer fo' de Lawd, Yer better ketch on hebben here. An' trus' yer soul ter God. " Yer better b'lieve dat kingdom come, An' 'stinction 'tween de creeds, Won't help yer none ; de judgment day Won't stop ter sort de breeds. " Jes' hoi' on right smart to de chance Ob gittin' glory here ; Dar's on'y one creed for us all, An' dat's ter be jes' squar'J^ (44) " De man who does his little here, An' does dat little well, Can count on hebben po'ful smart : He'll nebber see no hell. " Now let us bow de head in prayer Ter him dat gib de soul ; Den,' sister 'Phely, jes' you raise Dat good ole ' Jerdan Roll.' " An' may de Lam' o' God come down Ter chune our hearts dis night Ter sing his praisin' mo' an' mo', An' live widin his sight. " Glory an' de 'onor, chillen, 'Lelujah to de Lam'. Here ends de fust fo' verses Ob de forty-secon' psalm." (45) ^^!|er|brgm' *' Good-morning! Valk ride inside vonce ; I show you someding fine ! Es macht nix aus you puy or not ; Ich gar nix — allegesine. But youst you come ride here, now, und I bring my vife to schvear Ife got de finest illster vat You nefer vonce did vear. "D'vas made for Sharlie Bradley, But so sliort it vouldn't keep. So help me ! of dot fit you vonce, I sell him awful sheap. Yust you oxamine of de goots ; Look of dem buttons now ! Sarah, come here ; youst look at dot\ A sphlendid fit; dot's so! "I tole you vot I done mit you Don't give away de brice ! Jerusalem ! look, vat a fit; See, Sarah! aint dot nice? Don't shpeak oud loud — here, don't go vay I tole you vat I do, — I sell dot illster, now, yust for Saehn tollar, yz^sf to you / " I vouldn't sold dot (on my life) To any oder man For less dan schvlef tollar, so ! Dot's scheaper as I can. But I know of your fader, sure ; Ah ! he's a shentlemans, To pring sooch shildren up as you— ^ Say ! vera you buy dem pants ? (46) ' Ah, ha ! from *' Mervin's ; " yah ! so so ! I tole you vat I do, — You gife nine tollar und dem pants, — (Und dot's a bargain, too), — Und I gife you dot Ulster, yah ! You couldn't match de shade; For, honest, dofs de only piece De factory efer made! ' I hope to die d'vas reg'lar made (Und es war saeher BilUch) ; Yah, efry single thread ish vool, Mit buttons made of silleck. Plum-colored lining in der schleves — Vat! green, you say, der stripe ? Veil, vat's der color of der plum Ven plums dey don't vas h-r-r-r-ripe ? ■ Dot fits you yust like you vas made Of plaster, und run in it ! You vouldn't took it ? So help me — You don't know vat's missed by it. But, here, coom on der inside, vonce ; I'm hard up so to-day, I sell dot coat for yust six tollar — Don't gife der brice avay 1 ' Veil, veil ! I didn't nefer seen Sooch dimes already yet — ah ! I make him ofer for my sohn; Yah ! dot's der ilsteretta ! Veil, so long, shentlemans, I zay Come here vonce, take der coat; Das all sarechts — fife tollar. //"e made a tollar note/ " (473 4^1^ firman htm i\t lltm frmt^n, "Belubbed, we am gathered yere To moan de loss, dis day, Ob brudder Isaac Livermo' : Now, bredderen, lef us pray. " Oh, great an' po'ful Fadder, we Dis day am gathered yere, To moan de loss ob dis yere man, An' drap de frien'ly tear. *' Yere lies a bit of earth' y clay ; De soul dat breathed has fled. An' whar? We'll know when Gab'el s trump Calls up de numbered dead ! *' O Lawd ! dis brudder bin a man What lef a vacant place Widin dese doahs, so if ye will — Please lef him see dy face. *' Take not de brack man's soul away, Doan scorn de humble cry, But open up dem doahs fo' him ; O Lawd, doan pass him by ! *'Him had a min', him had a heart — Him mus' hab had a soul ; O Lam' o' God, jes' reach you' han' An' roll back Jerdan, roll. (48) '*King a Jesus, sabe a seat fo' him, ["Amen!"] O yes, good Lawd ; Den teach dy chillen ever mo' [" Glory an' de honor ! "] dy Word. [" De Lawd bress !"] — ["Amen !"] — ["Hallelujah !"] "Good Lawd come down dis day ! [" Rock o' my soul ! "] [" Praise de Lam' ! "]— My bredderen, eber pray. '' Now lef us sing, wid hopin' heart, De good song ' Ober Dar,' An' keep de faith fo' eber mo', De Lawd done answer prayer. HYMN. " ' When de angels in de mornin', ober dar, Open up dem golden doahs, ober dar, Get ye ready by de station For de great emancipation, Get ye ready fo' to trabble ober dar, — Ober dar, ober dar. " ' Dar's a light in der winder, ober dar. Git ye ready by de station, Fo' dat great emancipation, Git ye ready fo^ to trabble ober dar.' " De ways ob God am won'ful, His works am po'ful plain ; So ef ye want ter sabe de soul, O sinner, doan be vain. *' Jes' 'member dat de hones' man, Who acts upon de squar', No matter ef he's brack or white, He'll Ian' safe ober dar. (49) " Yere lies de dus' ob one dat's gone, Look yar upon dat clay ; O sinner, better git prepared, Fo' God's great reckonin' day. " Don' fret yerse'f so much about De dollars — dey's a pest; But jes' keep inchin' right along, An' do yer level best. " Declar' yerse'f a chile ob God ; Be like de ploddin' toad, Dat, 'umble 'dough he is, keeps in De middle ob de road. *' Now, bredderen, look yer las' upon Dis po' ole nigga's face, An' trus' in God, dat he will show His mercy an' his grace. " Fadder, dismiss us now dis day Wid peace, contentment, grace ; We'll lay dis crum'lin' dus' away, No mo' ter see his face. ** An' as we lay de body in Its narrer, dismal chest. Great God, may we dat's leF behind Wid Jesus' love be blest. " Comfort de widder an' her chile. An' when You calls ag'in, Whichebber ob us be de one, Prepare us, Lawd, — Amen! (50) [A Reminiscence of Hoosierdom.] Good-morning, sir ! I hope you're well : I represent C. Hallowell, In spices, teas, dried fruits, ei al.^ And on the best man always call. My house (I'm told) has in times past Made quite a sensible contrast Between your honored selves and others — I might remark, the Barton Brothers. I came here specially to see Yourselves, sir \ and it seems to me That we might strike up quite a trade : In coffees, now, hard cash is made. We'll pay the freight to Cincinnat' — And give you sixty days, at that ; Or, if you'll place a bill on quote For three months' time, I'll take a note. What ! not an item, do you say ? Well, 'tis a most unlucky day ! Upon my word, my book's bereft Of orders, and I think — I'm left ! For, as I live, here comes a dray Piled up with goods, '*just in to-day," From our competitors in "Wayne." Well, good-day, sir ; here comes my train! (51) ^.l-b-l^. Slumber on, darling — my own baby dear ; Peace to thy little heart, mamma is near. Resting your tiny head here on my breast, Slumber on, baby boy ; peaceful thy rest. Such a sweet blessing, my baby, you'll be ; Papa's own image in each look I see. By-lo-by, baby dear, sleep on, my boy, Mamma's own darling, her pride and her joy. Angels watch over thee, keep thee from strife ; Mamma's heart fills with the joy of thy life. Dear little lamb, you're a comfort to me ; Fond hopes, my darling, are cherished for thee. By, baby, by-lo-by; by, baby, by ; Slumber on, darling, mamma is nigh. Dear little image, that fills mamma's heart. By, baby, by-lo ; may love ne'er depart. (52) One of old New England's cities, Resting on a pleasant bay, Claims the subject I'm discussing, Thinking, writing of to-day. She is sweet beyond expression, Dimpled cheeks, and hands so fair, With a warm, brunette complexion And a wealth of jetty hair. She's petite^ and fine in figure. Graceful as a young gazelle, With a heart which beats a measure To my own, I know full well. Ah ! her charms are more than any Little woman I have seen : She's admired and praised by many, Yet my love is known, I ween. Would you know this pretty maid ? (Were she here, I fain would kiss her.) I'd not lose her for the world, For this jewel is my sister. (53) [An Old Man's Soliloquy.] " I love the laugh of a little child ! It rings like the music of a chime — Now loud and clear, then chuckling mild. It takes me back to the good old time When, perched upon my father's knee, I listened to fables from y^sop's book, Of " The Fox and Grapes," that hung in a tree, And the " Shepherdess with the Golden Crook. " 1 can remember just how I laughed. Indeed, when I heard the merry shout Of the romping boy I just now passed, Shouting " Hooray! " and " School is out ! " I thought of the time in the long ago, When, free from the master's watchful eye, I, too, would start, with a grand halloo. And breathe the air with a joyful cry. " The way I ran, it wasn't slow ; One spring, and over the five-barred gate (My old bones crack when I think of it now) — Nothing would tempt me to stop or wait. Over the hill I went with a dash — The shortest cut I soon had learned ; On past the meeting-house like a flash, And every cross-lot I made I earned " A rod or two. Now, here at the brook, I'd pause a moment to take a drink From a cooling spring in a shady nook, Then look to see if my bobolink (54) Had left her nest on the tufted loam : A few rods more, and here we are — I've reached that dearest spot, called home. What do you think of the trip ? ha ! ha ! " Now, I think the boys should have their way, (For laughter's the music of the soul,) And laugh, if they will, the livelong day, With their glad ha! ha ! and trilling roll. The youthful cup, full of happy thought And pleasure, will soon be quaffed : Life's sterner battles will have to be fought, Then they'll think of the time they laughed. *' To me this thought a comfort brings In the midst of sorrow and pain, And a boyish laugh with music rings, While school-days come again. My heart beats throbbing within my breast With joy, whenever I see The rugged boy, with laughing jest, The same as I used to be. R^^,^^^^ (53) !? Jttg Jnimi. A FUNNY TRICKSTER. (Born June 25, 1880; age 8 months; weight 14 lbs.) I kape a dog, and his name is " Pat; " Shure, the divil's own dog is he ! He'd murther the sowl of any rat, Be it big as iver ye see. His ears are cut short, and his legs are not long, Wid his tail drove in behind ; An' now, if ye'll listen, I'll sing a song — Shure, ye niver heard wan of its kind. Oho-ho ! this darlint of a dog Moriarity^ave to me ; Now, he'd shake the wather out of a bog, Such a wondtherful dog is he. Jimmy Kerrigan came the ither day, To see phfwat he cud see ; Yara ! dis same dog was 'atin' hay. Whin he lepped right over me knee. " Ka-hae-shen, Patsey ! " says I ; " who's dere? Such a nize ye're makin' de night ; Come in, ye blaggard, whoiver ye are . Be de powers ! there'll be a fight. " Pat will take the bosom of your pants An' chew thim into a bundle ; G-wan away, ye pirate of Pinzance ! Take yer luggage, now, an' tumble ! " (56) Ah-ha-ha ! me laddy-buck ! Patsey, boy, Ye're a bowld little felly, wid all ! Ye're de pride of me life, and me heart's own joy ; Come again, little lad, whin I call. I'll bet the weight of dis dog in goold He'll do more thricks dan you ; He's niver the dog that's aisy to fool, Shure, he knows everything new. Phfativer I'll do whin he'll be gone, Be jabers I hardly know ; But thin, I've another, a betther wan : Now, faith, I'll give both a show. 0M I (57) You vant to puy some notions ? Collar-buttons, socks, und ties? I sell you sheap as nefer vas ; Coom here look at der brice ! [ vas by N'y York comin', und I'fe got der latest sthyles ! For schvelef und a halef cents I gife you six neckties! Und here's a bair of handsome socks ; I've got plue, red, and yeller j I give dwo bairs of dem for a Co-vouter of a tollar ! Look at dese finest ivory bone, Made up by collar-buttons ; I geef you schwenty-four of dem For fife cents by de dozent. You don't vant somedings now? Ain't it! Veil, so long — here, go vay ! Call off dot dog ! I coom around Again some oder day. I bring you someding nice next dime; Yah, yah ! auf vedersehen. Say ! haf you got a cigarette ? Veil, I vill come again ! C58> There they lie, in a motley heap, All sorts and colors, dear and cheap — A pile of stubs, of wood and lead ; What mingled thoughts from tired head They've scratched! A bit of fun, or thought sublime, They helped me form the same in rhyme ; And may be what these poor stubs wrote. You may some day be glad to quote. Who knows? (S9? -H- ONE SIDE. On came a host of them, Porters in front of them, Newsboys behind them, Thirsting for plunder. Down the broad street they came, Prepared well to trap their game : Onward for gore they came, And the crowd wonder Why such a mighty horde At the best houses board. Making a great discord In the rotunda. Gazing out in the street. Looking at pretty feet. Flirting with each one they meet : Girls, stand from under ! And when they leave the place. Settle with willing grace, Each with a stolid face, Grips without number. Farewell, O dizzy bum ; Thirty days more to come Ere you this town will drum : That's good, by thunder ! (60) Oh, how you love to swell With this and that sweet belle ! The Lord knows I'll never tell — How many hundred. Dear little hearts you rob, Never a tearful sob ; Were you not such a snob, Less would be plundered. But each dog has his day : Drummers will have their play, You bet, now ; and I say 'Taint to be wondered. THE OTHER SIDE. [A Logansport, Ind., incident.] Tossing on fevered bed, And, with an aching head, Heart filled with fearful dread, Only a drummer. His was a troubled life. Parted from faithless wife ; Yet, throughout all this strife. Only a drummer. Moaning his loved one's name — Ah ! but she never came ; They said that 'twas all the same - Only a drummer! Word went out on the street ; Comrades in council meet; One came with flying feet — Only a drummer ! (60 He, listening tearfully, Nursed the boy carefully, Tended him cheerfully — Only a drummer! Had not this help been nigh, Chances were that he'd die. Who'd heave for him a sigh ? Only a drummer ! (62) " We come widin dese doahs to-day Ter praise de Lawd our God ; So let us bow de knee, an' pray Dat we may know his Word. " Immanuel ! de Son ob Him To whom we Uft our voice, Oh ! let dy Holy Spirit come An' make our hearts rejoice. " Jes' let your presence here to-day, Gib strength to one and all — De Christians, whedder brack or white, On dis terrest'ial ball. " Be wid us in our prayers an' songs. Be wid us in our fears ; Gib patience to us for our wrongs ; Gib smiles instead ob tears. " Hold out de hand ob fellowship To dem dat's pure in heart ; But lay de strength ob justice's grip On dem dat's come for sport. " Put power in de 'umble voice Ob dis dy servant yere ; An' make de sufferin' soul rejoice To speak dy name in prayer. (63) " Deal gently wid de errin' ones, Who strive to men' deir ways ; Yea, teach dem how to glorify Dy name in songs ob praise. " Wake up de slumberin' souls ob dem Dat backslides from de way ; Prepare us fo' to rise an' shine Upon de Jedgment Day. (( O Lawd, we ask dis in de name Ob One who died to sabe Our sjouls from endless woe an' pain^ When trabblin' to de grabe. Now lef dy Holy Sperit come An' bless us once again ; We ask dis, Heb'nly Fadder, now. For Jesus' sake. Amen. Bredderen, the Gospel moveth us To 'knowledge an' confess Our evil thoughts and evil deeds, Our sins and wickedness. 'Tis better fo' de wicked man Who takes God's name in vain, Or lies, or steals from neighbor's store. To cleanse his heart from stain, By comin' right squar to de front, An' own up dat he's wrong : De Book say dat de life ob him Dat's righteous shall be long. (64) " Yet, 'knowledgin' dat you is wrong, Doaii close de trade dis time ; For you mus' make amen's to him Dat's suffered by your crime. " I'se talkin* to you, specially (I mean Charles William Penn); Yer played a mean an' onery trick Ter steal dat widder's hen. " Yer knowed dat she war old an' po' ; Now, ain't yer done got shame ? Ef I wus you I'd hide my head, An' nebber own my name. " Yer better take my kin' advice, An' head dis 'scription, now, Wid jes' about two dollars, fer Ter buy Aunt Sue a cow. " I'll lay de paper on de desk, An', while we raise a song, Bredderen an' sistren bring you' cash, An' den pass right along. ''We'll sing de fust fo' verses Ob de hymn, ' Help one anodder.' Say, Sister Mandy Tompkins, Won't yer jes' wak' up you' brudder ! " He snorin' like he was distress' ! Now, bredderen, we will close. I'll call on brudder Jackson — No ? Well, den, come. Uncle Mose, (65) " An' ask a blessin' fo' us all, De preacher an' de tex' ; An' Christians, sinners, one and all, Be yere on Sunday next. *' Now may de love an' peace ob God Upon us all descen' Foreber an' foreber mo', Fo' Jesus' sake. Amen." MM #1^,1^; »iit#*l (66) Joe Brandon was a " Hoosier boy," From good old Indiana ; A strapping fellow, hale and strong, Son of a Richmond tanner. He'd roughed it with the "moss-backs'' In ''sixty-one and two," And came back home with honor, W hen '' U. S. G." went through. But in "the blue grass country," Way down in '' old Kaintuck," He met the idol of his heart In pretty Nellie Brock. She was a whistler, I tell you ! One of the sprightly kind, That have things lively all the time. And make the "young 'uns " mind. She studied a heap to entertain Any of Joe's old friends; And if she lacked in other things, Her graces made amends. Well, they married, and then settled Way down at Bowling Green — The prettiest home for miles around, With Nell the happy queen. But tricks and habits Joe acquired With the boys in Tennessee, Rather clung to him ; and 'twas pretty hard To shake them off— dy'e see? (67) To give the gist of the matter short, He hankered to be free ; So, the right chance offering, he booked In a ship just ready for sea. 'Twas a special expedition, With an old friend in command, And little did he care or think How soon he'd see the land. 'Twas a tearful parting, truly, And a sad one, I tell you ; But a sadder tale that followed, As you'll see before I'm through. The months went by, and then the years, And pretty little Nell Wept many a day, through blinding tears, But prayed for Joe as well. Then seasons came and went, you know. With sun and rain together — Old Winter, with his ice and snow, Then Summer's sultry weather.' News came at last that Joe was lost, At Bombay or Calcutta; 'Tw^as whispered round from mouth to mouth With many a suppressed mutter. Poor Nell — she took it right to heart ! But then, long absence tended To make her sorrow lighter; and Grief was thus sooner mended. Twelve years passed by, and Brandon's name Was seldom spoken now ; His mem'ry dropped right out of sight ; Well — I can't say just how. (68) But Nell — she married once again, To a chap called Will Jerome j For old man Brock had died, and she Was forced to make a home. You. see, her Joe had left her with A baby at the breast, And now the boy was most thirteen, A-studying for a priest. So back to the old " Hoosier State " She went with her only son, To educate him, by and by, With a friend at Huntington. They settled down on the old farm, But built a new house there. And things took quite a different turn Than they had in many a year. Nell had been over to neighbor Crane's, . One April afternoon, And staid quite late — 'twas almost dusk Before she started home. They had been talking over all The prospects for Nell's son. And Mother Crane was sitting On the doorstep, all alone. Just where she had been for an hour. Thinking it over again, When just then came a great, gaunt form A-shambling up the lane. She started to go in the house ('Twas getting pretty late), When something called her back — a voice Down by the orchard gate. (69) She turned, and, as the figure came Into a closer view, Discerned a man in sailor garb. With face of sunburned hue. He raised his hat with awkward grace, Yet spoke like " Hoosier " true : Quick as she saw his upturned face, It looked like one she knew. A hesitating glance he gave. Then, bending low his head (The while his voice recalled bygones To her), he plaintive said : — " Howdy, Missus ? Don't be afeered Yes, I'm a tramp, too well I knowj But 'n this yer county I war reared, 'Though 'twar a right smart chance ago. I'd Hke ter maul up the mess o' wood Thet stans thar out 'n the pile. Don't say no, fer I mean good, Though my beauty '1 never spile. **I wouldn't Stan' har botherin' yer Ef hit wan't s' fer t' town, But I'm po'ful hungry — dy'e see? — 'Thout a iiickle to call my own. An' as I kirn along by the branch, A-piece, or a-piece an' a half. Way back thar by ole Bemis's ranch, I heerd a youngster laugh, "An' hit sounded s' much like her — wal, My Nell, I war gwine ter say, Thet I follered ; an' when I got this fur Seemed like I orter stay. (70) Somehow or nuther I can^t g' long 'Thout I cut thet mes o' wood • An', marm, ye won't think nothin' wrong Ef I do the job up g-ood ? " Mebbe ye'll gimme a snack o' grub, Else let the youngster out, So 's I kin git ter see 'im onct, An' jist har one child's shout. Hello ! thar's he — wal, now, I vow ! — A-stan'in' yonder by the well. Why, marm, thet therms my Beji ! Whar! whar's his mammy? whar's my Nell? " Ef yer want ter know whar she as was been Joe Brandon's wife, one day, I kin tell ye thet's she's married ag'in. An' livin' across the way. She waited nigh on ter thirteen year Fer thet ther Joe to come, An'.fin'ly she hitched t' t'other man, T' git herself a home." . "An' — yonder, in thet ther house, ye say? Along wi' another man ? My God! I can't, I mustn't stay! I'll move on as fast as I kin. Ah, Joe ! Why did I leave her — say? Oh, marm, my heart is sad ; But then I s'pose hits God's own will : I shouldn't ha' gone to bad." " Mebbe ye'd better wait here, now — 'Though I dunno what I'd do. Its ter'ble hard, I know — poor man • Dear me, what a dreffulstew! (71) Now won't ye in, and Hannah '11 make A-drawin' o' strong black tea. 'Twill do ye good — ye'd better in. You Hannah— come here to me." ' Wait here ! No, no ! What fer, dy'e say ? He's a better right nor me ; Fer they s'posed I war lost, way off ter Bombay, Along wi' Montgomery. But no ! Lemme look at my little boy : Sonny, come yer ; don't fear o' me. (I'll remember this little spark o' joy.) Thar, now, I'm off ter sea." ' Fer pity's sake, how you do talk ! Now, Hannah, ain't it sad ? Ye must be tired with yer walk : Dear me, it is too bad ! Why, bless my soul, what shall I say To Mrs. 'scuse me — Nell? I do declar' it's a sorry day : I'll say just what you tell ! " " Tell her — wal, tell her I'll think o' the heart As what onct beat proud fer Joe ; Thet I'll try ter be squar, and do my part. Look yer ! don't cry ma'm ; I'll go. Good-bye, little Ben ! Take this yer thing, Though I hate ter let hit go. 'Twas yer great grammammy's weddin'-ring; Show hit ter mammy; she'll know. " I'll let thet pile o' hick'ry stan', Fer I ain't no use ter you S' long's yer neighbor's t'other man : I reckon I've kinder got through. (72) I've beat about the bush right smart, An' counted fer many a sin ; But ef the gate would open now, I reckon I'd jest walk in. ** Fer, marm, I've toted a weary load ; I 'low I'm onery, too ; But if God '11 on'y show me the road, I'm willin' ter jest git through. Tell Nellie ter take good care o' Ben, An' school him right up smart ; An' — Benny, my boy, come yer once more ; Kiss Paw ! Good-bye — we part," The figure wandered down the lane, And soon passed out of sight ; While the quiet village sank again In a peaceful rest that night. Next morning a huckster, on his round, Saw in the road, by the glare of his lamp, A figure prostrate on the ground : 'Twas Joe, the poor old " Hoosier " tramp. He'd traveled his last sad, weary mile ; But his soul was freed from doubt. On the upturned face was a troubled smile; And his lamp of life was out. Under a neighboring sugar-tree. They laid his tired head To rest, until Eternity Calls up the numbered dead. (73) Johannes vas der only son Of Heinrich Oderbracher, Who Hf by Bingen on der Rhine, Far ofer cross de vawder. But 'Hannes und a friend of his, Named Yacob Waldenhauser, To N'y York by dot steamboat skip, Came ofer last Sepnober. Dey boarded in Teered Afenue, Teerty-teerd Sdreet, — fife de nummer, — Und vorked by Staten Island, by der prewery. In der summer. Dis Yacob Waldenhauser lofed De sister of Johannes, Und bode de poys vas vorking hard To go by pardner bissness. Johannes lofed a madchen, too, So handsome as a rose, Mit schmall plue eyes, und flaxen hair, Und such a shplendid nose! Dis gerl vas lif by Bingen, Shveet Bingen on der Rhine — De fairest land, by all de vorld, On vich dot sun vas shine. Bode fellows jined der Shutzverein, Und vid dem vent, vone day. To haf a bicnic at der Park, About fife mile avay. (74) I tole you, 'Hannes look him shveet, Riding along dot day ! He got him by von shakass mule, Und visseled all de vay. Already vonce dey reach dot blace; Dere vas a fearful crowd, Und shveat vas running py his face! Dot band vas blaying loud. De day vas puddy hot, you know, Johannes drink much beer; Und den he vant to fight de crowd — He didn't got some fear. Dere vas some Irishers dot come, By Bowery, down dot day; Dey had been drinking schveetened rum^, Und feld yust like some blay. So ven dey see Johannes drunk, Dey t'ought dey haf a yhoke. By blaying vid dot shakass vonce, Before he vas got woke. For 'Hannes vas by shleepy been, So drunk he couldn't see; He'd tied der mule vid oxpenders. By vone pig shestnut-dree. Und dere himself he vas laid oud, Like vone prave soldier — died; His beer vas spilt, und of his moud His bipe hung py his side. Dose moud vas open, und he had A sandwich by his hand, Und dere vas mistard on his vest Dot come from Vaterland. (75) Yah ! he vas dreaming all aboud Dose gerl he got vone time Vat lif by Bingen, far away, Schveet Bingen on der Rhine. Dey tied him to der shakass' tail, By his oxpenders, kVick, Den teekled dot mule vid horse-shoe nail D'vas a orful, tam pad drick. Der shakass stood his pehind feet up, Und fill dose air vid noise: But more as he shump dose Irish laugh ; D'vas only fun for der poys. Up vent poor Hannis by der sky, Aboud dree hundred feet; Und ven he vas coom down some more, He landed by his seat. Und schvearing oud py efery dings, Bulled from his head vone hair ; Den looking round he hollerd oud, "Dot shakass! He vas vere?" Den dis member of der Shutzverein Lay crying vid some fears : Dere vasn't any vomans round To bade his wound mit tears. So he cried, " Yacob ! coom ride here, Und down sit by my side ; Hold high down by your biggest ear, For sure I vas gone died. "Write fadder I can lick dose man, Else I don't coom home some more; But tell mudder dot pehind my pants I vas so orful sore. (7^) Aubur Yacob, don't you gife avay Dis to dot gerlof mine, Dot lif by Vaterland, you know, By Bingen on der Rhine. . *' For by you keep dot bromise drue, Und don't gife me avay, I'll write by Henrietta vonce, So shure I leef to-day. Now helb me, Yacob, to got up, Und get avay from here ; I make it oud all ride vit you, Und treat to blenty beer. ^' Ve vill go of dot hospital By Jersey City vonce ; Und don't forget me of my bipe, Send ofer me my trunk. But eef I get vonce oud, I schveas: I'll dook dot klup of mine, Und show dem Irishers I coom From Bingett on der Rhine. '^ ill) An infan*- lay in its cradle fair, With dimpled cheeks and golden hair ; While its plaintive cooing told so plain Of the old, old story over again. Baby's home was scanty and poor — There was neither a carpet nor rug on the floor i Papa was blind, and begged on the street, While mamma did sewing, to make ends meet. The baby grew. Soon delicate hands Learned to fashion gusset and bands ; And the work-girl now in baby we see, Just at the age of maturity — A beautiful woman, whose wondrous face Lent charms to a figure lacking grace ; But what cared he who sought to defile Her spotless name with his artful smile ? In the heart of this woman vice crept in ; She deeply drank from the cup of sin ; Then, seeking to hide her crime and shame, She left her home, with a tarnished name. Cold and wretched, with tired feet. Through pelting rain and driving sleet, She traveled a crowded thoroughfare, Jostled and jeered by strangers there. (78) She carried a burden of sin, tiiat night, As, clasping a babe to her breast, in affright, She stealthily creeps in the shadow I see — • Now reappears : her hands are free ! Down in the swelling tide of the bay- She left her life and sorrows, that day. Scarcely a single score and ten. Yet somebody's darling she once had been. The world was rid of one more life, But the gap was filled by another's strife. I wonder if " Peter " opened the gate, When somebody's darling came so late ? Somebody's darling she was one day, When a child in the cradle peaceful lay : Somebody's darling she might have beenj So open the portals, and let her in. f>3^ (79) jrisr i|6 lain?. The day had been one full of bitter strife ; Full many a gallant soldier gave his life For love of country, liberty — aye, more, Was Mother Earth deep dyed with martyrs' gore. Night drew her sable mantle o'er the scene, As 'twere to hide the carnage made ; and 'tween The hill-gaps wintry winds did blow A requiem to silent dead on field below. Now, morning sun on hill-tops snowy white, Shone o'er the scene with radiant beams of light, Bringing to weary sentinel release ; And for a little while earth was at peace. Thus will life's tearful struggle close at last ; Then will the light of Heaven outshine the past ; The patient watcher will by faith draw nigh, To meet the Captain of the Host on high. (80) >|ii J^ngfer. A gurgling stream below the mill is sought ; From neighb'ring tree a springing rod is brought ; Then barbed hook, with lead and lengthened line, From knotted stick, the angler doth untwine With care. The squirming annelid, on bended hook, Sinks deep below in fav'rite nook ; While, dancing on the rippled stream, The bob denotes if carp or beam . Be there. Now, Walton's saint for piscatorial fame Seeks patiently for finny game. Ghost of immortal Izaak ! art thou here ? Then, with thy valued prestige dear, Declare ! Stay ! What was that? It must be I am right ! For, as I live, I think it was a bite ! A nibble, surely. Ha, ha ! 'tis a fish ! See ! patience is rewarded, and my wish Is here. (8i) I got me by vone leedle boy, Und ich var Saehr Fraelich ; He vas my habbiness und joy, Dot blessed leedle Diedrich : Also, he vas his muder's pet, Und Uncle Fritz, by Leipzic. I'fe got vone more already yet. His namen, dot vas Heinrich. Und he vas blay mit Diedrich, yah. Mit marbles, tops, und toys ; You nefer seen vonce in your life Sooch funny leedle boys. Dey got a hen-farm of der yard, Mit dventy shickens in it, Und only vone old speckled hen, Mitoud a rooster by it. Und den dey haf a garden-blace. For cabbage, beets, und corn ; Dey dig dot up dree hundred dimes Between las' nide und morn 1 Diedrich he vas my leedle boy, Und Heinrich (dot's his broder)- Vell, he vas sooch a funny shap. He got mashed on his moder. Vone of dem boys vas five years old^ Und so, also, vas Heinrich ; Dey vas ge'born de same day — AH togedder — him und Diedrich» De only drubbles dot dey haf, Vas, vonce dot leedle Diedrich, He got a gun by Vaterland — From Uncle Fritz, in Leipzic, (82) Dvas one of doze vat shump around, Und shoots q'vick plenty oud, — " Resolver ? " Dot's ride — how you call — (I know vat I'm aboud). Dey vas all dimes shtop by de yard, Ride by dot hen-coop oud ; Und vone day ven dey vas in dere I heard a fearful shoud. I run like somedings k'vicker — und I seen a orful sight ! Dere lay my Diedrich on de ground, Schreaming mit all his might ; Vile ofer him dot oder boy Vas shtand up (Dot vas Heinrich), Und cried out, " Fadder, come ride here I I've killed my broder — Diedrich ! " Poor leedle Diedrich vas laid oud Upon de green grass-plot, Und in de back part of his pants, Poor feller, he vas shot. Veil, you can understand de rest; Dot vas a fearful shance ! He didn't died, but moder, she — Half-soled und heeled his pants. You bet your life I feld so bad I cried, und den I schvore ! For leedle Diedrich vas so lame, He don't sit down some more. Somedimes dose drubbles vill bin gone ; I'll seen you vonce again, Und dole you more aboud it vonce : Yah, wohl — Aufvedersehn ! (83) J.n ^oitr Jit It '^mmr %mimt Mitt* In the rear of a cobbler's shop, in the little town of -, was the office of " Justise uv the Pease." Ranged about, promiscuously, were men and boys of all ages and nativity. A lean, lank individual answered, " Not guilty, by a durned sight, jedge ! " to an indictment wherein he was accused of giving a mug of beer to a twelve-year-old boy. The rougher element murmured audibly their approval, and continued to interrupt the "Squire," who had some difficulty in preserving order. The cobbler kept on pegging at his last, as unconscious of the pro- ceedings as if the crowd were not there. The heat was stiffing, and the room reeked with the fumes of tobacco. The justice sat with crossed legs on the table, munching an apple, while the defendant's counsel argued aside with the prosecutor. After much wrangling, the Squire fined the culprit in the sum of thirty- five dollars, which elicited uproarious remarks from the by- standers. Order was at last restored, the man was sent to the cooler, in default of fine-money, and the next case calkd. A few plain drunks, one murder case, a divorce bill, and some minor cases were disposed of in very much the same way, when all hands, including the "justise," adjourned to the "tavern," to get corn-juice and wrangle over the verdicts. (84) To me, oftimes, have thoughts seraphic (Transmitted via stylographic^ Swept vaunted wisdom of the sages From 'tween the so-called sacred pages - To wit: I've moralized, till, moralizing, (Each friend I owned and self despising, Have calmly come to this conclusion : Religious farce is mere delusion, You bet ! We know not what our future life ; So why this everlasting strife And canting over various creeds ? What silly enmity it breeds ! For shame 1 Far better that we close our eyes To all, and hope beyond the skies There is a Heaven^ a home, one God ; And Hell IS conscience' smiting-rod. Why not ? From me you cannot take away The hope of rest, some future day ; And yet I love to linger here, Nor dare to trust another sphere Just yet ! C85) But when this great and Mighty Hand, Parting the veil 'twixt Canaan's land, Shows me the glory of that shore Where sin and sorrow are no more, I'll go ! For God is not a power to hate, Nor from our vision close the gate. No ! I believe that he will do The square thing both by me and you. We'll see ! I'll wager all I've got on earth That God has watched me since my birth For a good purpose he'd in view : I'll know for sure when I get through. Till then. Amen (86) [A parody on Barbara Frietche.] Soon in der morning efter a rain, Dere vas some feet-dracks, efer so blain, Oud in der pasture a mile avay, Vere I vent mit der cows von summer day. I looked up high in der mountain-top, Und — so helb me Moses ! — I vish I may drop Eef I didn't seen more as fife hundred men — Und I shouldn't vonder if dere vas ten. Ofer de hill dey vas cooming down, All on /^^/ into Dumfries town. I heered dem cooming, und shouting loud — Nefer I seen in my life sooch a crowd. Into mine eppel-orchard straight Dey vent (mitoud shutting open de gate). I called " Loweza " from der house ; Und she crept up shtill und shly as a mouse, 'Till she got vidin bond a t'ousand feet Of de leader; und ven deir eyes did meet, She hollered (as only a voman knows), Und shumped around und shook her clothes. Den, leaping ofer de railroad fence, She gife dem plazes mit all her strength. Und leaning far ofer der topmost rail, She shouted, mit voice dot nefer fail : C87) '■'Loiveza Friebold ist my name, Auber macht nix aus, it's shust der same : Dook of you vill mine epples green, But of you don't vas seeck as ter tuyvel, veel seen. A look oi paleness, a coliky pain, Ofer de face of dot leader came ; Und he cried, " Come, poys, ve'd petter stop ; I'm seeck already, und vant to drow up." All dot day dem fellers repents — You should seen de crowd stretched ofer de fence : All dot year der tramps vent py, Und left dem epples hanging high. Loweza Friebold v 0x^(^0. vas poor; She's wealthy, now — don't vork some more ; Und ve keep a pull-dog to frighten avay Shust der same kind of fellers vat coom dot day. (88) ^'Slh \tnir *' Old Reub," he is a lively coon Who lives in Logansport — Porter in " Barnett's new hotel ; ^ Chuck to the brim with sport. Strong, yet supple as a withe ; His frame is closely knit; An arm like ancient blacksmith, And a fund of ready wit. *' Raised in ole Varginny State," Near the famed " Blue Ridge,*' On Rappahannock River, Place called " Millers Bridge.'"' He was a slave " fo' de wah, An' wuked outen de field Wormin' baccy" (so he said), And once the hoe did wield. " My old Daddy, he war sold Fum ' Ginny to Missipp' — Sayin' true 'bout "tween de mouf An' cup dar's many a slip.' *' Wus five boys an' one sister Fo' der wah, but nary one Could be foun' 'cept Reub, my honey: I got safe Norf, sure's yo' born. (89) " 'Members when I wuked, I say, Long wid my ole Mars' Brown^ Wormin' baccy all de day In my little linsey gown. " 'Kase I war a pickanniny, Har'ly eben half-way growed, When I bin in ole Virginny ; Dat war fo' de corn I hoed." This is just what " Ole Reub" told me, And I doubt not what he says, Bearing marks of his old masters And the bygone slavery days. Corresponding with his frame. He has got a manly heart. He's my friend ; /laud his name, Though it only be in part. Should you go to " Logan " town, Seek ye out my sable friend ; Speak my name, then give your own, And a wilHng ear he'll lend. If a service you should need, Find this great, black Sampson true^ He will prove a friend indeed, And I'll warrant he'll please you. ^90) i|f iiH. Below the rapids at Bellows Falls, An old mill stands in a shady nook ; And, sketching the scene, my mind recalls The day when the rill was a bounding brook. But Time has come, with remorseless hand : The miller is far away ; He labors, now, in a better land, And the mill will soon decay. The whirr and splash of the mighty wheel — Which labored the live-long day. And ground the kernels to snowy meal, As if 'twere naught but play — Is hushed. And the rippling waters glide By the mill, and on to the sea ; For 'neath an oak-tree by its side A new-made mound I see. The old and trusty miller has gone, And the sighing leaves do say, *' He'll never come back to grind the corn. For 'tis just a year and a day." " A year and a day — the miller 's dead," The babbling brook replies, " And the old oak's roots now cover his head See! yonder his body lies." A lesson I gathered from the mill, And the waters gliding by, The oak-tree down at the foot of the hill, Whose leaves in the wind did sigh. (90 'Twas this : that the mill which, tottering, stood On the bank, and the leaves of the tree, Were at once a monument to the good, And the mourners, severally. Then the sturdy oak which shades the spot Where the miller is laid to rest, May live for awhile, but soon will rot — In a few short years, at the best. And Time shall come, and the brook still play With the wind and the summer rain ; But the water that passed by the mill that day Will never grind again. For, though strong hands another mill Might build on the self-same site, And the brook flow on beneath the hill, Supplied from yon mountain height, And Time roll on, it would naught gainsay To have wind and summer rain, For the water that passed by the mill that day. Will never grind again. (92) J»U Sn«rls|i|t. Arrah ! Kitty, me darlin', come here to my side, And listen to fwat I will say ; Shure I'll spake to ye gently, and truthfully tell Of a gerl I love, by the way. Her eyes they do sparkle wid innocent mirth, And her teeth are as fwite as the pearls; On her face is — a map of the land of her birth, While her hair flows in beautiful curls. Mavourneen ! she's dainty, and pretty, and nate ; She's a jewel me heart long has sought ; And the name of this beautiful colleen is Kate, Though I call her Kitty, for short. Now, betune ye and her, were ye placed side by side, The difrence I never could tell ; So let's call on the priest, and I'll make ye a Dride — For ye know that I love ye too well To lave Paddy Murphy, the one-eyed gossoon, To capture your heart — do ye see ? We'll go over to Cork, on the shwate honeymoon. And the quicker the better for me. Say de word now, Kitty darlin', and quickly, aroon ; Will ye be Mistress Kitty McCan ? Faugh a ballagh, acushla, shwate Erin go bragh ! Ye have said it, an', faith, I'm your man. Bad luck to Pat Murphy ; he'll luk for a fwhile To find a swate craythur like this. Lave him dance at de weddin', shure ye wouldn't mind, Since he looks somewhere else for his bliss. Then here's to ould Erin, the land of our birth, And de dear little shamrock so fair: We'll drink to her praise, and sing of your worth, Shwate Kitty, de belle of Kildare. (93) 1|$ ^ttinrb nf ^ttnfetr fHl [As remembered by Jack and Jill,] " He lay upon his dying bed, [His ride eye vas put oud,] When, with a feeble voice, he called [For beer und Sauer Kraut] ' Weep not, my boy, the veteran said, [Or else dot beer you sphill,] But quickly from yon antlers bring, [Dot sheese-knife by Bunker Hill.] " The sword was brought ; the soldier's eye [Dot vasn't oud, vinked hardt ; ] And as he grasped the ancient blade, [He called for a deck of cards ] Then said, * My boy, I leave you gold, [Und dricks you didn't seen ; ] I leave you, mark me, mark me now, [Dwo aces and a k'veen !] *' 'Twas on that dread, immortal day, [Ven I kip dot beanud-shtand,] A captain raised this blade on me, [But I got sight of his hand.] And while the glorious battle raged, [I didn't vas so green,] For, boy, the God of heaven blessed [Dree aces und a k'veen! ] (94) " ' Oh, keep the sword ! ' his accents broke, [I pawned it, und he gried ; ] But wrinkled hand still grasped the blade, [Und den he vas gone died.] The son remains, the sword remains, [I'fe got my uncle's check,] And twenty millions bless the sire, [Dot showed me by dot drick.] '* Ifis name, I'd have you know, is Jack, Und mine, of course, is Jill : He's told you all about a trick, Und me, boud Bunker Hill. (95; 0i| ^irmtitt from % ^am }FrsHt|0r. "Bredderen, de fustly ob my tex' Am 'bout de brazen calf What Moses set up in de midst Ob Israel's chosen half. De nex'ly is de story 'Bout dat lion in de den Whar Daniel done got frowed into, Wid seberal oder men. *' Now for de fustly. When dat man Called Moses crossed de sea, An' drownded all ob ' Faro's' hos', To set his chillen free, Dar 'rose a discordation In de once brave, happy ban- So much, dat all dem people Got to fi'tin', han' to han'. " Dey wanted sassafraction — yea, Dey t'ought dey hab deir way ; But Moses stop de quarrel quick, An' tole 'em all ter pray. *Dar's nuffin' mo' ter pray to/ Said de chillen — den dey laff; 'Till Arion — Moses' partner — said, ' Le's make a golding calf! * " ' Den we can raise him up an' pray Ter God, froo dis yer t'ing.' Joy did aboun' ; great was de noise ; Dey made de valley ring (96) Wid soun's ob great thanksgibin', An' songs ob Jubilee — • Dem chillen, out ob bondage, Done gather by de sea. " But soon deir joy was boun' to end ; Dey couldn't stan' success. Like ebery one ob us, dey preach Far from what dey profess. Den God, in his great wisdom, See fit to turn deir heart To trabble in de narrer road. An' from sich sin depart. " So Moses, he done gadder up De remnant ob his ban', An' tuk dem up on Oliver, To view de promis' Ian'. Dey view de Ian', den sent out spies To see if hit would suit. De spies came back wid melions, An' seberal oder fruit, " Ter show how fat de Ian' hit was, An' jes' dey make deir min' Ter settleize de country, God, he done make 'em blin'. Diskerredge' was de po' fo'lorn An' wicked Israelites. Great God ! den how de prayers went up To gib dem back deir sight ! " Dey tare roun', den, an' fill de air Wid bitter cussin' wild : An' Jeremiah done lament Like as he war a chile. (97) But God done make prowi.sion Fer dem chillen, 'dough he vex': You'll h'ar mo' 'bout de 'elusion, When I preach some future tex/ '^ An' now dose ob de bredderen Who'd like ter stay awnile, Can — who dat nigga laffin' ? Dat you, Rufus, I hear smile ? I tole you, sinful nigga, dar's No mercy fro' de Lawd Fo' niggas wid no sense or shame, Laffin' at de Holy Word. '' An' whedder no' ye lub de Lord, I trus' my words dis day Will open up dem do's fo' you : My bredderen, lef us pray. ' Great Fadder, who doth reign above, Look down on us jes' now, An' cheer de weary, bress de weak, An' fo' our sins, O 'low " Dat we is chillen onery, po', An' full ob many sins ; O Lawd, save us a welcome seat When Jedgment Day begins. ' Doan' shove de brack man off de seatj (No Lawd,) but teach him when To sing dy praisen right an' cl'ar, Fo' Jesus' sake. Amen.' "Now, bredderen, we will leave dis place, An' come on Sunday nex', To sing an' pray, an', by God's grace, Read de 'elusion ob my tex'." (98) One of the legion gone to his rest, Knight of the triad and dual-plumed crest Bearing Immanuel's cross on his breast, And on his brow Peace. Shall he numbered be with the blest ? Where's the sou/ now ? Only a worker in temples below, God will soon show him the rest, and, I trow His heart will then the great trestle-board know, And but too well. Will the sound of the gavel be then minded so ? Heaven will tell. Mark well the summons ; witness the sign : Quickly, O comrades, now fall into line. The High-Priest soon cometh, oh may it be mine To be prepared ! May heaven's morn on true Brothers shine — They who have dared. Bear the corpse tenderly, stately, and slow ; Wipe the damp moisture of death from his brow ; Muffle your trumpets, and sacredly blow His requiem. Now high degrees this mortal shall know : Peace be with him. Under the carpet of yonder green knoll. There place the body bereft of its soul; It heeds not the measured rhythm and the toll Of distant bell: When the portals of Paradise backward shall roll, May all be well! (99) He met her at the depot, Mr. Butterworth did, and she struck an attitude of injured innocence, remarking, " How do you suppose I was going to come way out here without a trunk ? Didn't I tell you to have your best one sent out to mother's, for me to pack ? " " Yes, my dear — how do you do ? Dog-gone the onery trunk; you're here yourself, and" " Don't you use cuss words to me, Nathan ! I haven't got a change of — well — things to my name." And here the colloquy was lost in the din and roar of an incoming train, while Mrs. Butterworth led off, Nathan slowly following toward the six-cent hack that stood on the crossing. About an hour later on came '''•the dog-goned omry trunk,'' via express, with several dollars charges. The express- man left it at the bottom of the stairs, where they had essayed to stop with an ancient aunt. Butterworth ripped his best black coat all up the back in getting it up stairs. The key was not to be found ; the locksmith would not come to the house ; there was no express-wagon within seven miles of the horizon in any direction; and — well — Nathan hired a farmer to " tote " it to the smithy's and back, rejoicing at last when it was finally landed in the spare-room destined for their headquarters over Thanks- giving.* With a bland and forgiving smile Mrs. B. advanced toward the offending trunk, a new key in hand, and attempted to open it. Punch — cr-r-rk-z-i-p ! — and away went the brittle key : at the same instant (luckily for him) Nathan shot out of the room and into the alley toward the woodpile. He came back slowly, but with fire in his eye. Not a word he uttered until within about ten feet of the aforesaid dog-house ; when, with a yell, and exclaiming " You dog-goned onery thing ! " down came an axe, and disclosed to view — notatrunkful of Mrs. B.'s underwear, (100) but a lot of old nasty traps — books, old collars and cuffs, a stuffed owl, some old suspenders, and a few nails — the discarded odds and ends of Nathan's dejt where he had been spending the summer. " Well, I'll be dog dashed all to thunder ! " exclaimed Mr. B.; "they have sent that cussed trunk a-clutterin' way out here just to make firewood with, instead of sending the one — wal,the one — I th-ought was — the one — I " " Merciful heavens ! what a loss, Nathan!" rejoined Mrs. B. "Well, you can just shell out, now, and fix me up new, 'cause I hain't goin' to go to Mar- thy's 'thout a new pair of Here the supper-bell, ringing violently, closed the argument for a short season. (lOl) J. §i^nnixt SxritopI^* A WALK of half a mile brought me to the station of the '*A., L. & St. L. R. R." Well, I mean a "pair o' bars," near which stood one car, with engine and tender, marked in glaring letters, "Express." Boarding the car, I seated in one end of the dingy apartment, along with perhaps twenty men and women, prehis- toric in appearance, and quiet as blind mice. Their furtive glances, however, betokened surprise ; and, averting their gaze, I looked toward the far-end of the ''shook." Two coffins, a lot of railroad-tools, freight, wood, and coal, made up the assortment there. Presently the conductor, brakeman, and newsboy (all one and the same person) approached and solicited my patronage. A nickle bought me the news, and I tried to content myself for one hour and ten minutes, while the train x2iVi just twenty miles. We stopped ten times on the journey; and as I stood on the rear end of the platform looking at the receding rails, they looked like a huge, crooked hair-pin in the distance. This road runs one train, each way, every day; will stop at any point in the fields or woods to take up a passenger ; and has been running six years. The rolling-stock consists of one engine and tender, one (the aforementioned) car, and one flat-car. Ten men constitute the entire "gang" — including section hands — that is employed to run it; and yet it rejoiceth in the name of " Anderson, Lebanon & St. Louis R. R." Grass grows luxuriantly between the rails, and there is but one depot on he entire line. One more incident of the trip is worth relating, — to wit : A lawyer (and he is somebody^ out here), was taken suddenly ill on the train. There being no convenience in the car for his comfort or relief, the train was stopped. He alighted, stepped back into the woods, and when the call of nature had been attended to, returned, and we proceeded on our journey. (102) watt$ift« ivmt. ' The gate hangs well, And hinders none. Refresh and pay, Then travel on." This the inscription which I saw Upon a wayside inn at Kent : Good custom by this sign to draw, Was, doubtless, the good host's intent. . And drawing from this well-meant call A moral, to my thoughts akin, I tied " Old Dobbin " in the stall, And stepped inside this old-time Inn. ** Gude-morrow, sir ! An' 'ow's yer 'elth ? " Spake the stout Saxon who came forth. '' Wilt bide a wee, an' loose yer wealth ? Hi, Ma-ry, fetch a bit o' broth, And a great mug arf-an'-arf. ~ 'Ere, meister, is the week-e-ly ne-ews — Although, na doubt, ye've 'erd the chaff About the priest and widder Crew-es ?" "Weel, lack-a-dee! this world is queer, An' muckle fu' o' grief an' strife. Aye, meister, 'ere's yer 'elth in beer ; Draw up an' sip a bit, gude wife : This man we-11 tell us a' about The freshet that's gan doon the reever. Sir, c-o-rn an' oats is up, na doot. An' dearer now, I ken, than ever?" (103) " Yes, my good man," I answered him To many questions quaint and queer. I favored each and every whim, And paid for sundry rounds of beer. A pleasant hour we spent together. In social chat and merriment : We talked about the crops and weather,- Enjoyment was my heart's content. Then loosed I " Dobbin " from the stall. And started on my homeward way, Resolved that soon at " Welcome Hali '* I'd tarry yet, some other day. This moral from the sign I drew : That as along life's path, anon, We might refresh, and strength renew, Yet pay our score and travel on. (104) %tmn m ^nlt^m. Landsmen, vimm ens, und Irishers — I vas here ! Und if somepodies vas here dot didn't got invited, let him speak cud, und he'll be send for immediquickly, else sooner. I haf been invided here by some of de most disinfluential citizens of New Hafen, to undress dese peoples boud some disimportant k'ves- tions dot's got some relations vid side shlewers. In de fust blaces, dere done vas some oxpisions in my mind some more aboud side shlewers generally. Of vone man shlews his broder in de side, bedder he got struck mit a glub, ain't it ? Of anoder man sides vid de first shlewer, he vas a t'ief yust so bad as de last man in de first blaces, else he vas belong ,by der Shutzen- verein. Und of a man took pizens, und shlews himselkf, dot's vorser as der schmall-box. Dose shlewicides vas getting puddy k'vick common blaces by dose reasons cud already, und I vant to life to see dose dimes ven efry man can shtop a leedle till it vas come around vonce more ven he can peaceful dimes enshoy, und den he vas happy. Ain't it? Somedimes a man yumps in de vawder ; somedimes already he dook kistard-pie vid gorebaric by der frost on de top ; und some oder dimes he vas by dose sharfes how you call razor bin shlewed himsellef vonce already. Anoder dime he vas macht der necktie by a leedle rope, dot's too short for dis world's use. Und anodder dime bymeby he look down de sewer of a couple of barrels by a shot-gun dot vasn't loaded. Vonce more for de beer. I zay dot ven a man gets tired of life's drubbles, he look around for some blaces vereby he can look de vorld of his faces und say, " I vas puddy k'vick got droo mit id." Look yourself oud vonce, else bymeby you vas got by dose blaces, und haf to say vid de poet : — I vas got blenty tired oud, Und somedimes dink I vas gone oud j I vonder if der's saur-kraut In.Heffen? Dot's aboud de time dot dose rope break, und dot feller falls by de mud down und yumps up exclaiming, *' I vas vone tam fool vonce! Ain't it?" (io6) little nnix |tH> [An Ancient Legend.] Dere vas an olt voman dot lifed all alone, Vay down py der mill, by der dam-site : Many shildren she had — dere vas dwo of dem grown — In der cottage down mit der mill-site. *' Chack " vas der namen of von of der poys, Und " Chill " (dot's a gerl) vas anodder ; Und each Monday morning it vas deir hearts' choice To heib the oldt voman, deir mudder. Vone day up de hill dey vent mit a bail, To draw of de vater der veil oud, Auber shust at dot time dere arose a pig gale, Und plowed der shildren all around oudt. " Chack " stumpled down of a great pig stone He hoUeret oud vilt like ter tuyvel : He fell so hart down dot he done proke his crown; You should hear dot poor feller schnivel ! Vile " Chill " dumpled efter, — avay down der hill, — Und deir mudder come running avay oud From de houser, vich vas, as I say, py der mill, Right avay down dere py der dam-site. (107) She sopped und she gried, she vept und she vailed, To see her poor " Chackey " und " Chill." Dey bode vas gone died ; aubur, she safe de bail, Und vent pack to de oder vones, down py der mill. MORAL. Kindt friendts, a moral to dis dale I shust been dole you 'bond, Is dis : You see, she safe de bail! So look yoursellef vonce oud, As up de hill of life you go, Vedder py tam-site or py mill. Look oud vonce, else you stup you toe, Shust like poor "Chack und Chill.'' (io8) $t n mtint wl [The Hope of a Mother.] The roaring cataract seethes and boils, Plunging below, in foam recoils; There'll be an end to its ceaseless toils, After a little while : 'Twill cease its brawl and mad turmoils, After a little while. There'll be nothing left but purling brook, Twisting, turning, with bend and crook; 'Twill seek a channel through shady nook, After a little while : It will wear a calm and peaceful look, After a little while. I've stood in the shadows many years^ And watched so long, through blinding tears; There'll be an end to my doubts and fears. After a little while : My heart will lose all the grief it bears. After a little while. Life's battle, with its sorrowing pain, Will never more be fought again ; Peace will cleanse the heart of all stain, After a little while : I'll sing God's praise in rapturous strain. After a little while. (109) I'm going home, to a land so fair, To loving Shepherd's tender care ; I will meet my loved ones over there, After a little while : I shall no more feel the cross I bear, After a little while. The storm has ceased, and on every hand The clouds are rising from the land ; I shall see sunshine from where I stand, After a little while : Within the shadow of God's great hand. After a little while. Just after a little while, O God, When I am laid beneath the sod, I will not fear thy chastening rod, After a little while : With faltering step no more I'll plod. After a little while. Thus will the battle of my poor life — Which seems unending pain and strife — Be fraught with that peace; nor struggles rife. After a little while : There is rest for mother, child, and wife, After a little while. (no) %\\% l[cH! The weary sentinel on castle wall Gladly responds to guardsman's call, K-epeating through the palace hall, "All's well!" And on the ramparts of the quay, The landsman cries a lusty lay, Echoino; across the bay, " All's well ! '* As larboard watch the signal gave, High up in shroud the sailor brave, Sings loud and clear, across the wave, " A-l-l-'s well!'= A soldier on the tented field, Who swerves not from his post to yield, Shouts with a voice by hardship steeled, " All's well ! " Touched by remorseless hand of death, A comrade's brow has felt its breath ; The curfew slowly tolls, and saith, "All's well!" Through silent watches of the night, A halo, as of Heaven's light, Shone from a band of angels bright : All's well. (Ill) [To the Boys at " Barnett's," Logansport, Ind., May 6, 1881.] Well, boys, I'm going to leave you, So sing a farewell song ; And may the mem'ry of this night, Be well remembered long. Come, Reub', I want you over here, With "Billy," " Baldhead," " Coppey," too; And "musty'* Johnson, over there, Don't let the parting song fall through. Namesake, come you, and *' Brer " Fox, Stand up and join the band ; You, Jerry, call up "funny" Zach', And stand here, hand in hand. Where is Sol Rains ? With Dave and George? And that tall, one-eyed coon Who sings " Dem Golden Slippers," And the " Order of Full Moon " ? Come, marshal up your forces, Invited guests as well ; If brother Tutt is here, I wish He would his '"sperience " tell. rii2) And when we've finished up all brown, Sing us a warm good-night. I'll ne'er forget old " Logan " town, And all these faces bright. Now, when in distant lands you roam. Dear boys, let friendship not miscarry. Good-bye, kind friends; I'm going home Remember kindly "Hippy Harry/' lii3; If you love the weird and indescribable harmony of a true Negro Dialect JMelody, send for these. ' T\ie Bedcovt Ll^hr. WVien% S undoes dou/rw WdKe vp in Hedvpn intfi^^noniii^ The ^redt emdnc\|?aTio^'\ . CVnnbiiig u[j 1lTe ^oUp^ ^\rs GrdWiels Trumlp^T- He\|p oY\e dnQt1\e r ^ Ddv|s gone U^ . <^ PViBLlSHEB BY "THETRM/ELERSPUBUSHiN&COrBOSTON ' POST orn cE address box »30. Ptiblished at a uniform price of thirty-live cents each copy, or the entire list of eight S. ngs for two dollars and fifty cents. Mailed free to a.ny address on receipt of price. Ad- dress: Travel* rs Publishing Co., Box li30, Boston. In relation to the Price and Terms of thi: unpretentious Volume. Dear Boys and all good people who squander wealth for *' Dialect Poems : " Many of you know full well that the price of this book is but a fraction of wha*" " Happy Harry " has spent in your company many times for social amusement; therefore forgive me if I refuse to be partial, and favor my friends with gratuitous copies. If I should serve you all the same way, the first edition would be out of sight before the forms were unlocked. Read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest the following, and be convinced that it is a wise plan for me to take the " bird in the hand " rather than trust the one "in the bush." FREE PASSES. *' In those days there were no passes given." " SEARCH THE SCRIPTURES." " Thou shalt not pass." — Numb. xx. i8. " Suffer not a man to pass." — Judges iii. 28. " The wicked shall no more pass."" — Nahum 1. 15. " None shall pass," — Isaiah xxxiv. 10. " This generation shall not pass."— Mark xiii, 30, " Though they roar, yet they cannot pass." — Jeremiah v. 22, " So he paid the fare thereof, and went." — Jonah i. 3. THE TEN COMMANDMENTS OF THE LANDLORD OF THE BANGOR HOUSE, BANGOR, MAINE. 1. Thou shalt pay the laridlord all thou owest him, 2. Thou shalt not steal from him, as he has nothing to lose. 3. Thou shalt not injure his furniture, or thou shalt pay dearly therefor. 4. Thou shalt not court any of his waiters, nor make love to the cook . 5. Thou shalt not bellow like an ox, nor bray like an ass, in the night, to disturb the landlord or his guests. 6. Thou shalt not detain the waiters, for they have many to attend. 7. Thou shalt drink no beverages stronger than those he sells you, and smoke no other cigars, nor '* treat all round " on " tick ' 8. Thou shalt not leave thy money at home, nor come short " one cent," for he will not hold you guiltless thereof. 9. Thou shalt not come here to complain of the fare of any rival hotel, neither do the same by this. 10. Remember the Sabbath day and keep it holy; and come early for ymir morning '■^ beans ^'' remembering that ''''every little helps ^'* (105) » SWEET'S -<- INFALLIBLE - . • • ■■■ LINIMENT A FRIEND IN NEED to all Travelers. For sale by Druggists and all good people generally. RICHARDSON & CO., Proprietors, NEW HAVEN, CONN, C3-oor) R,E.A.iDiKra- 1 The Merchant Traveler" CINCINNATI, OHIO. The Hatghet," WASHINGTON, D. C. The Boston Commonwealth, 5) BOSTON, MASS. Wherein will be found, from time to time, dialect stories from the pen of "Harry Holland." '*%m{nm li[tl|k" To please, not to offend, has been our aim : If undeserving praise, spare us from biame. For, like the Autumn leaves, these thoughts may change: As years come on, we m.ay with skill arrange Maturer, shapes, in color and design. So delicately traced that every line And shade delineate the role Of master hand, whose touch hath graced the whole, 'Tis plainly seen 'twere not a studied part To versify such simple things. The heart, Indeed, responds to Nature, and the love Of such a god is like to that above ; A love which mirrors all that's beautiful And good, with charity for souls despicable. The simplest creed in old age and in youth Is, Deal ivHJi honor, and 7'evere the truth. Be just to all men, whether friend or foe. - Unmindful be of fate. " Hoe your own row," Remembering that to bear an honored name, Self is respected. Trust not hollow fame. With these thoughts, kindly meant, " Inquire within.** Seek for the jacket which will fit your skin ; Then shall your verdict rest (whate'er the cause), " In murmured pity or loud-roared applause." He that writes, or makes a feast. More certainly invites his judges Than his friends. There's not a guest But will find something wanting," or ill drest." " Authors are judged by strange, capricious rules ; The great ones are thought mad, the smaU ones — fools. Yet sure the best are most severely fated, For fools are only laughed at ; wits are hated." " What if the popular breath should damn the Sun in his meridian glory ? _ Dost thou think his beams would fall less brightly ? " DIALECT POEMS. ' The printed part, tho' far too large, is less Than that which, yet unprinted, waits the press.' )WVV*'VV WWW'vwwWv^^yy^.i ,uvvww^wyv> iiy.rti^^'^^W^^W^'^^^^^ m^m^v wWVWVVV mmm^''''''^m)^ i^^^u^i^rru .vUW(i^^^^'* ^C^pC^t^^ ^,mm^^ ^mum^m^^^'^'- V'itiriuvvvv^^ m^^^mi^^ w^yvwv ^Mmmj^' ■ffJ^\/'^V\N\ ■immmmmm^ ■f^^m'mm' lyy^^ygvvv. tuytf^fifw^i fiiUWUWUUUiiUW' ^^m!:s'^'^'-'!m :wvvy^*' Wyyvyvvy^^^y,^^ f^MWW^ ;fc...v.:^^''wgvw^:'^w^^^g^^g. 'VWVwvwv>; wwuupu'^^^^^;' ^mmmmm^ -^^^"^"^^"^^^^^^ ;umj^^ ./WVV^J^^ ^vw wuuwwv iuyvvv^ ^VUV-A/WW wwvvvw VyyWVW^ wv^vu yg^g^wwvyvgtfwf*. ^^yyywyvwv¥uyugfey#¥ ^(>®gg^^^^^^^^ 3y.,^tf«?tfVVV(jyHWW«' 'K««MUMy,yuMyy wuyw^v^yyy ^^■".^.Muuvyywyw ^wV^^wgyy^T""' yw^vyjss W^ggggWW^^^^^P^' ^yv^TTvyu ygyvwyi ^ggj^ LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 016 255 869 9 # m^m'