1 m r Mm m ^ o ^ %, '^ *v ■f> ■f> to « t . . . *w ^ SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER CONTAINING A GREAT VARIETY OF EXERCISES FOR DECLAMATION, BOTH IN PEOSE AND VERSE, ADAPTED TO PUPILS OP ALL AGES, AND ESPECIALLY SUITABLE FOR SCHOOL EXHIBITIONS, AND OTHER PUBLIC OCCASIONS. BY CHARLES W. SANDERS, A.M., AUTHOR OF " SPELLING BOOK," "SERIES OF SCHOOL READERS," "ANALYSIS OF ENGLISH WORDS," "ELOCUTIONARY CHART," ETC. NEW YORK: IVISON, PHINNEY, BLAKEMAN & CO., CHICAGO: S. C. GRIGGS & CO. 1868. ■friMHL jmWSff**"** ;w®ms d hew isiisaiEi ©? mmm, NEWLY ILLUSTRATED AND ENLARGED, SANDERS 1 PRIMARY SPELLER. SANDERS' PICTORIAL PRIMER. Bound (Green Covers) SANDERS' NEW SPELLER, DEFINER, AND ANAL YZER SANDERS' NEW FIRST READER " *] SANDERS' NEW SECOND READER ."...'..."».. ''...'.. ... SANDERS' NEW THIRD READER " SANDERS' NEW FOURTH READER SANDERS' NEW FIFTH READER. (Eevised) SANDERS' HIGH SCHOOL READER SANDERS' YOUNG LADIES' READER SANDERS' SCHOOL SPEAKER SANDERS' ANALYSIS OF ENGLISH WORDS. SANDERS' ELOCUTIONARY CHART. SANDERS' PRIMAR Y HAND CA RDS. Six in a Set. Per Set SANDERS' PRIMARY SCHOOL CHARTS. Large Type, for Teaching Primary Schools in Concert. 8 Nos. on 4 Cards. Per Set SANDERS' UNION SERIES OF READERS. SANDERS' UNION RE A DER, N UMBER" ONE. SANDERS' UNION READER, NUMBER TWO SANDERS' UNION READER, NUMBER THREE. SANDERS' UNION RE A DER, NUMBER FOUR SANDERS' RHETORICAL READER, NUMBER FIVE SANDERS' UNION SPEA KER , Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1864, hy CHARLES W. SANDERS, In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the Southern District of New York. Elbctrotyped by Smitii & McDougal, 82 and 84 Beekman Street, N. T. PREFACE* Ye who see no sin in laughing, Rather joy exub'rant quaffing With a will the sparkling spirits Which the youthful soul inherits, — Ye who wit and humor relish, Which so often truth embellish, — Ye who sympathize with boyhood In its simple, natural joyhood ; (That's a word just made to order, But of thought no bad recorder,) Drawing from its fun and frolic Feelings anti-melancholic ; Seeing, in its sport and laughter, Nothing evil coming after, — Ye who know the heart that's merry Never fails to give the very Look of cheer and cheek of cherry ; Ye who pleasure take in using Books instructive and amusing, As a means of bliss diffusing Over homes, however lowly, However high, however holy, — Ye who love a school-room cheerful, Where no little eye is tearful, And no little face is fearful,— iv PREFACE. Ye who all these things do favor, As a sweet, attractive savor, Or exhilarating flavor, — Open wide this Union Speaker. Here is mirth for all that seek her ; Here is that diversion needful, Of which many are unheedful, But which (note the derivation,) Takes the name of recreation, Because, in fact, of its reviving Spirits scarcely yet surviving. Here are scenes all bright and sunny ; Speeches short, and apt, and funny ; And of wit the very honey ; Here, in strains sometimes bombastic, Sometimes gentle, oft sarcastic, Ever stirring and elastic, Genial humor reigns supremely, Yet without a word unseemly. Go, then, happy little Speaker, Though the w^orld is so much bleaker Than befits the joyous spirit Which is just thy chiefest merit, — Go, and give the magic potion That enkindles kind emotion, — Go, and cherish heart-communion, Only source of solid union, — Go, and somber shadows banish, — Go, and make the horrors vanish, — Go, and joy be with thee ever, — Go, and stop thy going never ! OGKTEITTS. EXEECISE PAGE 1. Opening Address, . i J. N. M., 11 2. I'm Twelve To-day, 12 3. My First Whistle, 13 4/ The Young Patriot, G W. S., 14 5. Yes or No, 15 6. Benefit of Pure Air, ........ 16 7. The Glutton and the Echo. Dialogue, IT 8. An Unlucky One, G. W. S., 18 9. The Little Orator, . . . 18 10. Little Robert Reed's Resolution, 19 11. Queer People, 20 12. The Jolly Old Crow, 21 13. The Little Roan Colt, 22 14. The Traveler and the Landlord. Dialogue, . G. W. S., 23 15. The Pioneer, ........... 24 16. Solomon Crout, ... 25 17. Little George's Troubles, Fanny Fern, 26 18. The Pretty Pictures, 27 19. My Father's Half-Bushel, 28 20. Biting one's own Nose off, 29 21. Things I Love, 30 22. Little by Little, 31 23. To-day and To-morrow, .32 24. The Contradiction. Dialogue, 33 25. The Frog, 35 26. The Retaliation, James Smith, 36 27. The Two Lispers. Dialogue, 0. W. S., 37 28. The Yoice of Nature, 38 29. House- Maid's Soliloquy, Fern Leaves, 39 30. A Dialogue about Heaven, 40 31. The Skater's Song, . . . . . Rev. E. Peabody, 42 32. Land of "Washington, . George P. Morris, 43 33. Pat Hunting the Hare. Dialogue, . . . C. W. S., 43 34. The Boy's Complaint, 44 35. The Highlander's Lesson, 45 36. A Bad Predicament, Hood, 46 37. Our Union, . . » . . Rev. Samuel Gilman, 47 38. The Dying Soldier, A. A. Twiss, 48 39. The Landlord and Tenant. Dialogue, . . . G. W. S., 49 40. Dialogue in a Printing Office, 50 41. I'll be a Man, "... 51 42. Ego and Echo, . . . . . . John G. Saxe, 53 v j CONTENTS. EXERCISE PAGE 43. Happy New Year ! 54 44. The Supervisor, C. W. S., 55 45. A Common Complaint, . . 57 46. The Weil-Bred Cat, 58 47. Railroad Soug, 59 48. Michael's Method of Making a Cannon. Dialogue, . . .61 49. My Beautiful Land, .... Mrs. L. G. Tuthill, 61 50. Thanksgiving Sermon, Dr. Le Grand, 62 51. John and William's Choice, 64 52. Wishing. Dialogue, 65 53. The Poet and the Guinea, .67 54. G-ood and Bad Fortune. Dialogue, . . . . 0. W. S., > 68 55. How the Money Comes, Dime Speaker, 69 56. I Take it, George W. Bungay, 70 57. A Union Song, William E. Robinson, 71 58. Stand Beside the Banner, .... Annie M. Beach, 72 59. Scene in a Court-Room. Dialogue, 73 60. If You have Seen, 74 61. The Sword and the Staff, . . . . George P. Morris, 75 62. Nobility, Alice Gary, 76 63. Honest Dealing. Dialogue, G. W. S., 77 64. My First New Hat, J. Ni McJilton, 79 65. Fashion Now-a-Days, . 81 66. Public School Song, .... Mrs. C. H. Gilder sleeve, 82 67. Te Liddle Plack Pony. Dialogue, 83 68. The Dutchman's Remedy, 84 69. Song of Saratoga, John G. Saxe, 85 70. How to be Miserable. Dialogue, 86 71. The Blues, 89 72. Cheer Up, 90 73. The Irish Potato. A Parody, . . . . . . 91 74. Colloquy in Church. Dialogue, 92 75. A Practical Lesson. Dialogue, . . . Home Journal, 93 76. Beginning of a Bad Citizen. Dialogue, 95 77. A Jaunt to the Wedding, 96 78. The Gormand, G. W. S, 96 79. "I Can't," Fanny Fern, 97 80. Absalom Bess, Shillaber, 98 81. Early Rising, John G. Saxe, 99 82. Mrs. Caudle's Lecture, .... Douglas Jerrold, 101 83. Now I am a Man, 103 84. Mr. Jonathan Smith, 104 85. The Englishman and the Irish Inn-keeper. Dialogue, . . 105 86. Another Year, 106 87. Reed-Bird Shooting, H. P. Leland, 107 88. Pat and the Pig, . . 108 89. The Rival Peddlers. Dialogue, 110 90. Ups and Downs, 113 91. Nonsense versus Brains, 114 92. Health Insurance, . . 115 93. " I Puy Seven Hundred Tollar for Ten Tollar," . . .116 &4. The Lawyer's Stratagem 117 CONTENTS. Y {{ EXERCISE PAGB 95. So Forth and So On, • 119 96. Aristocracy, . K. P. Rogers, 120 97. That Noble Thing— a Man, .122 98. Stand, Like an Anvil, G. W. Doane, 123 99. The Coroner and Witness. Dialogue, 124 100. The Widow's Choice, 125 101. Truth in Parenthesis, Hood, 126 102. The Chieftain's Daughter, G. P. Morris, 127 103. The Sewing Machine, 128 104. Phrenological Developments. Dialogue, .... . 130 105. Keep Coo], Dick's Poems, 133 106. The Sensible Man, C. W. &, 134 107. A Self- Reflection, 134 108. A Lesson Misapplied, 135 109. A Fourth of July Oration, . . . By one Alcohol, 135 The Washingtonian's Story, 138 The Hero's Legacy, George P. Morris, 140 Battle for the Truth, A, O. Coxe, 141 The Suspicious Frenchman. Dialogue, 142 General Scott and the Veteran, .... Bayard Taylor, 144 The Hero of the Drum, G. W. Bungay, 145 The Military Drill, 147 The Young Volunteer and his Mother, 148 Shoulder Arms, O. G. Dunn, 149 Duties of American Citizens, .... Daniel Webster, 151 American Sailor's Song of Independence, . . W.O.Brown, 152 Prophecies for the Year, 153 The Lawyer and Irishman. Dialogue, 154 Excelsior, 156 Now or Never, 0. W. Holmes, 157 Fuss at Fires, J. Smith, 159 San Francisco, J. Smith, 161 "Shinning" in the Street, 162 Curiosity. Dialogue, 165 Moving Day, 168 The Yankee Pedagogue, 0. W. S., 169 Beasts Within us, Leighton, 170 Honor, Shakspeare, 171 Polish War Song, J. G. Percival, 171 The Onset, 1*2 Advice to Ladies, Fanny Fern, 173 Why Don't the Men Propose, Bayly, 175 We've All our Angel Side, 176 A Shuffling Witness. Dialogue, .... Knickerbocker, 178 The Press, Elliott, 179 The Little Essence Peddler, . . . . S. W. Seton, 181 Icarus; or, The Peril of Borrowed Plumes, . John G. Saxe, 183 Beauties of Nature, C. W. S., 185 Cat versus Rat, . . . . . . J. K M., 186 Physiognomy. Dialogue, . . . . . . . .191 Love and Physic, 194 The Confession, Blackwood's Magazine, 196 viii CONTENTS. EXERCISE PAGE 147. Bombastic Description of a Midnight Murder, . . . .197 148. The Creownin' Giory of the United States'n, . Knickerbocker, 197 149. ''Father Land," and "Mother Tongue," ■ • • Lover, 198 150. Norval. Dialogue, . . . Arranged by S. G. Massett, 199 151. Live for Something, Chalmers, 201 152. The Best of Liquor, Paul Denton, 202 153. The Maddening Bowl, 203 154. The Birth of Green Erin, 204 155. The National Banner, Edward Everett, 206 156. The People Always Conquer, . . . Edward Everett, 206 157. The Union, Mrs. Sarah T. Bolton, 207 158. The Old Arm Chair that Rocks so Easy, . . . .208 159. Legal Examinations. Dialogue, 210 160. The Justice and the Prisoner. Dialogue, . . . . 211 161. Night after Christmas, 212 162. Liberty and Independence, 214 163. Secession, Webster, 216 134. A Patriotic Appeal, D. S. Dickinson, 217 165. Don't "Go it alone," 219 163. Virtue of Great Principles, Byron, 220 167. Garrick and the Tailor. Dialogue, 221 168. The Public Grindstone, Gen. Riley, 222 169. The Boy's Repartee, 0. W. S., 224 170. Modern Poetry, 225 171. The Bombastic Actor, Phil. Doesticks, 227 172. The Lavin'.— A Poe-m, O.J. Wilson, 228 173. Complaining. Dialogue, . . . ... . . Neal, 231 174. An Oration on the Crisis, ....... 232 175. The Bells. A Parody, J. E. Frobisher, 234 176. Keep to the Right, ' 236 177. Leaving School. Dialogue, . . . Mrs. L. O. Tuthill, 237 178. The Majesty of God, Bible, 240 179. The Lord our Shepherd, Bible, 241 180. The Merry Heart, Illinois Teacher, 241 181. Is it Any Body's Business, .... Arthur's Magazine, 242 182. The Ghost, 243 183. Gone to the War, 246 184. Hofer, the Tyrolese Patriot, to the French Court-Martial, . 247 185. The Noble Sailor, Mrs. Sigourney, 249 186. Giving and Living, 251 187. The Frenchman and the Rats, 252 188. Popular Apathy, Webster, 254 189. Barbara Frietchie, Whittier, 256 190. The Loyal Mother, 258 191. Bartering for a Canadian Pony, . . . . D. G. Mitchell, 259 192. The Three Tailors, 261 193. The American Flag, 262 194. Closing Address J. K M, 263 GENERAL DIRECTIONS TO YOUNG SPEAKERS. 1. Never attempt to speak a piece until it is perfectly learned. 2. Never attempt to speak in public before rehearsing your piece several times in presence of the teacher, in order that you may learn where to place the proper emphasis, and how to secure the proper pitch and tone of voice. 3. When called upon to speak in public, endeavor to be per- fectly composed, and fix your mind intently upon the subject ; otherwise you will be likely to speak too fast, and blunder through the piece in an indistinct and imperfect manner. 4. Find out the occasion on which the speech was originally spoken, that you may understand and feel the sentiment con- tained in it. Imagine yourself to be the original speaker, and endeavor to express the sentiments in the most earnest and impressive manner. 5. It is of the utmost importance that the young speaker acquire a clear, full, and pure tone of voice. To do this, the chest should be thrown forward, the head kept erect, the luugs well supplied with air, and the mouth and throat properly opened, so that the voice may issue forth without obstruction. 6. At the commencement of the piece, the tone of voice should be quite moderate, unless the speech begins in an ex- cited or spirited manner. As the subject increases in interest, the tone of voice should become more earnest, and vary with the subject. 10 GENERAL DIRECTIONS TO YOUNG SPEAKERS. ATTITUDE AND GESTURE. 7. Endeavor to come on the platform in the most graceful manner, and take an easy, erect position before bowing to the audience. In bowing, bend the neck quite slowly, with but slight inclination of the body. 8. The position of the body, while speaking, should be nat- ural, resting mainly on the left foot ; the right foot being thrown forward a little, with the heel toward the instep of the left. By this means, a free use is given to the right arm, which should be most frequently used in gesticulating. 9. Do not stand in one position during the whole speech, but change the posture as the subject of the piece seems to require. Avoid, however, a constant motion or swinging of the body. 10. Make no gesture without a reason. At first, you should attempt only those gestures of which you understand the force and meaning. For, gesture that has its origin in mere caprice, is sure to be artificial, and often strangely inappropriate. 11. The gesture should ever accompany the utterance of the emphatic word, and should be energetic or gentle, according to the nature of the subject. NOTATION IN MODULATION. (°) high. (P-) soft. / oo \ high and loud. (pp) very soft. (o) low. (/•) loud. \ OO / low and loud. (/•■) very loud (=) quick. (pi-) plaintive. (") short and quick. (<) increase. (si.) slow. (>) decrease. SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER EXERCISE I. OPENING ADDRESS. Ye who scorn not humble scholars, Such as we are, and whom dollars Have not had the sordid sway To keep you from this place to-day, — Ye who come, with presence cheering, Just to give us friendly hearing, Or, with natural interest, fearing For some loved one's first appearing, — Ye who come, with smiles and graces, Belles or beaux, whiche'er your case is, Though brought here by other forces Than are found in our discourses, — Ye who come, with eagle vision, Just to give a sharp decision, Though we hope such bitter feeling, None will here be found revealing, — Ye who come, whatever brought you, Be assured, as surely ought you, We are very glad to meet you, And with cordial wishes greet you ; Nay, we hope so well to treat you, J. N. M. 12 SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. As to gain opinions golden : Hopes like these our hearts embolden ; Yet, if all our efforts vain you Find to please and entertain you, One blessed hope we have in store, Since we can hope for nothing more, — We hope, at least, to make you snore ! EXERCISE II. I'M TWELVE TO-DAY* 1. Fm twelve! Fm twelve, to-day ! °°) Hurrah, boys, let us shout ! Come, leave your work and play, And kick old care away ; Ye gloomy thoughts, get out ! We'll have no mopes about ; Fm twelve ! Fm twelve, to-day ! 2. Fm twelve! Fm twelve, to-day! A dozen years have fled Since first the morning ray, All sober, cold, and gray, Stole in upon my head ; How fast old Time hath sped ! Fm twelve ! Fm twelve, to-day ! 3. Fm twelve! Fm twelve, to-day! Then help me to be glad ! Come all, and let's be gay, — There's nothing more to pay For being bright than sad : Cheer up, then, lass and lad ! Fm twelve! Fm twelve, to-day ! SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. 13 EXERCISE III. 1. Ec' STA st, great joy ; rapture. 2. Ech' ed, resounded. MY FIRST WHISTLE* 1. Of all the toys I've ever known, I loved, that whistle best ; It was my first, it was my own y And I was doubly blest. 2. 'Twas Saturday, and afternoon, — That school-boy's jubilee, "When the young heart is all in tune, From book and ferule free. 3. I then was in my seventh year, The birds were all a-singing ; Above a brook that rippled clear, A willow-tree was swinging. 4. My brother James was very cute, He climbed that willow-tree ; He cut a branch, and I was mute The while with ecstasy. 1 5. With penknife he did cut it round, And gave the bark a wring ; He shaped the mouth and tried the sound ; It was a glorious thing ! 6. I blew that whistle, full of joy ; It echoed 3 o'er the ground ; And never, since that simple toy, Such music have I found. 14 SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. EXERCISE IV. 1. Trail' ed, dragged. 2. Mis trust', suspect. 3. Sun' der, tear in pieces. 4. Com' rade$, companions. THE YOUNG PATRIOT* c. w. s. To be spoken by a very small boy, with a flag in his hand. He marches upon the platform, at the head of a company of boys, all of whom give three hearty cheers : Hurrah ! hurrah ! hurrah ! 1. Boys, I'm for the Stars and Stripes! When my mother gave me this flag, she said I must never let it be trailed 1 in the dust ; and don't you think I've kept it pretty clean' ? 2. When I was coming here to-night, I met a big boy, And I rather guess He was a "secesh," (And hadn't I reason to mistrust?) 8 For I heard him brag, If he had my flag, He'd tear out the stars, And sunder 3 the bars, Then trample it into the dust. 3. But I tell you he didn't do it! I held it fast! He then called me " a little white-livered yankee." I told him I didn't care for that, so long as I had the spirit of '76 in me, — the red, white, and blue ; for My skin is white, My veins are blue, My blood is red, And all are true, 4. If ever the enemy tries to take this flag, there'll be a big fight, wont there, boys ? [All respond at once, Yes, sir !] Yes, my brave comrades,* we've thrashed many a flock of geese, felled SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. 15 many a field of mullen stalks, and drove many old croakers (frogs), into their hiding-places ; and if the rebels attempt to take this flag, and trail it in the dust, I'll wave its folds in the breeze, and shout, " Come on, boys /" And don't you think we'll make them — Skedaddle' ? EXERCISE V. 1. E va' sion, act of avoiding. 2. Dis sem' bling, acting the hypocrite. YES OR NO, 1. When of a man I ask a question, I wish he'd answer " yes" or " no ;" Not stay to make some smooth evasion, 1 And only tell me, " may be so." 2. When of a friend I wish to borrow A little cash, to hear him say, " I've none to-day, but on to-morrow" — Is worse than if he told me " nay." 3. I, from my soul, despise all quibbling, I'll use it not with friend or foe ; But, when they ask, without dissembling," I'll plainly answer, " yes" or " no." 4. Why all this need of plastering over, What we in fact intend to show ; Why not, at once, with much less labor, Say frankly, " yes, my friend," or " no ?" 5. But, when I ask that trembling question, " Will you be mine, my dearest miss \" Then let there be no hesitation, But say distinctly, " yes, sir, yes" 16 SANDERS' UNION SREAKER. EXERCISE VI. 1. Pan a ce' a, a universal medicine. BENEFIT OF PURE AIR, As the speaker utters the first sentence, let the windows be thrown open. 1. Throw open the window, and fasten it there ! Fling the curtain aside and the blind, And give a free entrance to heaven's pure air ; "lis the life and the health of mankind. 2. Are you fond of coughs, colds, dyspepsia, and rheums' ? Of headaches, and fevers, and chills' ? Of bitters, hot drops, and medicine-fumes, And bleeding, and blisters, and pills' ? 3. Then shut yourself up like a monk in his cave, Till nature grows weary and sad ; And imagine yourself on the brink of the grave, With nothing that's cheerful and glad. 4. Be sure, when you sleep, that all air is shut out ! Place, too, a warm brick to your feet ; Put a bandage of flannel your neck quite about, And cover your head with a sheet. 5. But, would you avoid the dark gloom of disease, Then haste to the fresh, open air, Where your cheek may kindly be fanned by its breeze ; 'Twill make you well, happy, and fair. 6. Oh, prize not this lightly — so precious a thing ! 'Tis laden with gladness and wealth ; The richest of blessings that Heaven can bring, The bright panacea 1 of health. SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. 17 ?. Then open the window, and fasten it there ! Fling the curtain aside and the blind, And give a free entrance to heaven's pure air ; 'Tis life, light, and joy to mankind. EXEKCISE VII. 1. Ab' STI nence, a refraining from indulgence in appetite. 2. In firm'- i tie$, diseases. 3. Glut' ton y, excess in eating. The speaker that personates the Echo, should be screened from the audience, and utter his part with the same pitch and inflection of voice, as that expressed by the one who personates the Glutton, though somewhat weaker. THE GLUTTON AMD THE ECHO- Glutton. Who curbs his appetite's a fool\ Echo. Ah, fool x ! Glut. I do not like this abstinence^ I 1 Echo. HenceM Glut. My joy's a feast, my wish is wine' ! Echo. Swine r ! Glut. Will it hurt me if I eat too much' ? Echo. Much' ! Glut, [louder.'] Thou mockest me, nymph, I'll not believe it\ Echo. Believe it v ! Glut. Dost thou condemn, then, what I do'? Echo. I do' ! Glut. Is it that which brings infirmities' ?* Echo. It is' ! Glut. Then, sweet Temperance, I'll love thee\ Echo. I love thee v ! Glut. If all be true which thou dost tell, To gluttony 3 I bid farewell'. Echo. Farewell'. 13 SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. EXERCISE VIII. AN UNLUCKY ONE* 1. I believe I am born to losses and crosses for my whole life. If I play at " Odds and Evens," I can never once guess the right way. If I toss up a penny, it is sure to fall head down- ward. 2. If I have a fine lot of marbles, the first time I attempt to play with some boy, he's sure to win them all. 3. If I have a bran new knife, — one that I prize very highly on account of its being a present from my sister, it is sure to slip through some unlucky hole in my pockets, and fall where I can never find it. 4. If I " go a-berrying," and get my basket full, I'm sure to stumble and spill them all, before I get home. 5. If I go in company, and try to appear smart, I'm sure to say or do something that I'm ashamed of ever after. 6. I never had a piece of bread, Particularly large and wide, But fell upon the sanded floor, And always on the buttered side. EXERCISE IX. THE LITTLE ORATOR* 1. You'd scarce expect a boy like me, To get up here where all can see, And make a speech as well as those Who wear the largest kind of clothes. 2. I think it was in olden time, That some one said in funny rhyme, Tall aches from little toe-corns grow, Large screams from little children flow. SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. 19 3. And, if that rhymer told the truth, Though I am now a little youth, Perhaps I'll make as great a noise, As some who are much older boys. 4. I will not speak of Greece and Rome, But tell you what I've learned at home ; And what was taught me when at school, While sitting on a bench or stool. 5. I've learned to talk, and read, and spell, And don't you think that's pretty well For such a little boy as I ? But I must leave you — so, good-by ! EXERCISE X. LITTLE ROBERT REED'S RESOLUTION* 1. " I'll never use tobacco, no ; It is a filthy weed ; I'll never put it in my mouth," Said little Robert Reed. 2. " Why, there was idle Jesse Jones, As dirty as a pig ; He smoked when only ten years old, And thought it made him big. 3. " He spent his time and money, too, And made his mother sad ; She feared a worthless man would come Of such a worthless lad. 20 SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. 4. " Oh, no ! I'll never smoke or chew ; 'Tis very wrong indeed ; It hurts the health, it makes bad breath," Said little Robert Reed. EXERCISE XI. 1. Gos' SEP ING, tattling. 2. Fidg-' et t, restless ; uneasy. 3. Prov o- Ca' tion, any thing that excites anger. QUEER PEOPLE* 1. " Oh, dear, oh ! this world quite strange is, Every day brings forth new changes !" That's a fact ! Indeed, these changes sometimes come so fast that a fellow can't keep up with them. 2. Well, well ; this is a queer world. No, it isn't, either. I've made a mistake, — 'tis a pretty snug little affair, after all. 'Tis the people that are queer. Ah, now I have the right end of the rope ! Yes ; there are a great many queer people in this pretty, rolling world of ours. 3. But, of all the queer people here below, the croaking, growling, grumbling, gossiping, 1 snarling, snapping, sour, sulky, fidgety, 2 fretful, fault-finding, tattling, back-biting species, are the queerest. And they are queer ; or else I don't understand the word. 4. They think everybody wrong but themselves ; and I'm sure that's queer. 'Tis queer they can't see that the best people in the world are the most candid, open-hearted, affable, kind, charitable, free, and unsuspecting; but then they wouldn't be queer, if they saw it; and, as they love to be queer, they won't see it ! 5. It is queer they don't know that people who deserve the most censure themselves, are most apt to be always blaming and scolding their neighbors. SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. 21 G. It is queer they never found out that those who are so keen- sighted as to see only other people's faults, are stone-blind in regard to seeing their own. 7. 'Tis queer they never learned the application of the Savior's words to their own case : " Thou hypocrite, first cast the beam out of thine own eye." Yes ; 'tis queer y but then, if all this wasn't queer, they wouldn't be queer ; and then they'd fight with themselves ; or, like the Kilkenny cats, eat themselves for being like other people. And so they go through life, fretting at every thing that isn't as queer as themselves. 8. A fretting man or woman, is something like a wasp : (how- ever, to the honor of the wasp be it said, he won't sting you unless you disturb him ;) but a fault-finding, fretful, peevish, dis- satisfied mortal goes through life, buzzing and stinging without provocation 3 . 9. Ah, my friends, never get queer ! It is useless. It makes nothing come out right. It sets no broken bones ; it stops no leaks; it gathers no spilt milk ; it mends no smashed pitchers; it fattens no pigs ; it cures no spoiled hay ; it saves no damaged grain ; it changes no east wind ; it makes nobody love you ; it only makes people laugh ; for they know that barking dogs never bite. I wonder if there are any queer people in this house? I reckon not, though. EXERCISE XII. THE JOLLY OLD CROW, 1. On the limb of an oak sat a jolly old crow And chatted away with glee, with glee, As he saw the old farmer go out to sow, And he cried, " It's all for me, for me! 2. " Look, look, how he scatters his seeds around, lie is wonderful kind to the poor, the poor ; 22 SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. If he'd empty it down in a pile on the ground, I could find it much better, Pm sure, Pm sure! 3. " I've learned all the tricks of this wonderful man, Who has such a regard for the crow, the crow, That he lays out his grounds in a regular plan, And covers his corn in a row, a row ! 4. " He must have a very great fancy for me ; He tries to entrap me enough, enough ; But I measure his distance as well as he, And when he comes near, Pm off, Fm off!" EXERCISE XIII. THE LITTLE ROAN COLT* 1. Pray, how shall I, a little lad, In speaking make a figure ? You're only joking, I'm afraid ; Do wait till I am bigger. 2. But, since you wish to hear my part, And urge me to begin it, I'll strive for praise, with all my heart, Though small the hope to win it. 3. I'll tell a tale, how farmer John A little roan colt bred, sir, And every night and every morn, He watered and he fed, sir. 4. Said neighbor Joe to farmer John, "Aren't you a silly dolt, sir, To spend such time and care upon A little useless colt, sir." SANDERS' UNION SPEAKEXi. 23 5. Said farmer John to neighbor Joe, " I'll bring my little roan up, Not for the good he now can do, But will do, when he's grown up." 6. The moral you can well espy, To keep the tale from spoiling, — The little colt, you think, is I, I know it by your smiling. 7. And now, my friends, please to excuse My lisping and my stammers; I, for this once, have done my best, And so I'll make my manners. EXERCISE XIV. THE TRAVELER AND THE LANDLORD. Traveler. Landlord, will you please give my horse some hay? Landlord. I am entirely out of hay, sir. y rav. You may give him some oats, then. \and. I have neither hay nor oats. \av. You may give him some meal. and. I am out of meal, just now. \av. Well, have you any corn ? )and. No, indeed ; I have just sent the last bushel to the lill. Trav. As you have nothing for my horse, what can I have for dinner ? Land. What would you like, sir ? Trav. I would like a broiled chicken. Land. I have no chickens, sir. Trav. Well, then 1 will take some ham and eggs. 24 SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. Land. I am entirely out of both. Trav. Have you any lamb chops ? Land. I have not; but I have some very fine fish. Trav. Have you any trout ? Land. I have no trout 5 but I have some very fine eels. Will you have some fried eels, sir ? Trav. I am not fond of eels, sir. What kind of wine have you ? Land. What would you like ? Trav. Some port. Land. I have no port, sir. Trav. A little sherry, then. Land. I have so little call for wine that I don't keep none of no kind. Trav. Then, give us some lemonade. Land. Yes, sir ; do you prefer it with lemon or without? Trav. How do you expect to make it without lemon ? Have you any pies, cake, or beer ? Land. No, sir ; I am entirely out, just now. Trav. Pray, sir ; what do you keep ? Land. Keep ! why, sir, I keep a Tavern. EXERCISE XV. THE PIONEER* 1. With the Pioneer Ax what a conquest is made ; What a field from the forest is won ! What regions, reduced from the wilderness shade, And new warmed in the beams of the sun ! 2. From the rock where our fathers in exile first landed, Their clearing from river to river has spread ; And mountains and plains by their sons are commanded, Till now on the beach of Pacific they tread. SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. 25 3. What a farm for a nation to cultivate now, And gather the wonderful harvest it yields ! 'Tis an Empire reduced to the Sickle and Plow, An empire of gardens, and orchards, and fields ! 4. Eail, Nation of Farmers ! rejoice in your toil, And shout when your harvest is o'er ; Receive the oppressed to your land with a smile, But frown every foe from your shore. 5. The Plow and the Sickle shall shine bright in glory, When the Sword and the Scepter shall crumble in rust; And the farmer shall live both in song and in story, When warriors and kings are forgotten in dust. EXERCISE XVI. * SOLOMON C&OUT* 1. I'll tell you a story, and what it's about : A fine little fellow, called Solomon Crout ; The best of all boys for frolic and* fun, But never, oh, never, till work is all done ! 2. And work he begins as soon as it's light : Chops wood, makes a fire, all burning so bright, And puts on the kettle and sweeps the dirt out ; A fine little fellow is Solomon Crout. 3. He's nimble and quick, he's careful and wise, He keeps his mouth shut, and opens his eyes ; ■ 2 SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. He works for Lis father and helps his dear mother, And does all he can for sister and brother. 4. He'll run of an errand before you can wink, He'll know what you want before you can think ; Oh, you must know, he's worth telling about ! A fine little fellow is Solomon Crout. 5. He never gets angry, he never tells lies ; If things don't go right, the harder he tries ; He can play without snarling, or fighting, or swearing, And if any one does what he feels there's no bearing, 6. He says, " If you act so, I'm sure I can't stay ;" And Solomon laughs, and scampers away. Oh, I never saw Solomon skulking about ! Good-natured and merry is Solomon Crout. 1. Now Solomon's poor and wears an old hat, And he's homely to look at ; but who cares for that ? But, stop ; is he here ? Pie's always at school, He learns all he can, and minds every rule. 8. But, no ; I don't see him ; he's not here to-day, So I'll finish, at once, what I'm going to say : That of all the good boys I know here about, The one we love best, is Solomon Crout. EXERCISE XVII. LITTLE GEORGE'S TROUBLES* Fanny Fern. 1. Aunt Libby patted me on the head the other day,"and sard, " George, my boy, this is the happiest part of your life." 2. I guess Aunt Libby don't know much. I guess she never worked a week to make a kite, and the first time she went to fly SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. 27 it, got the tail hitched in a tall tree, whose owner wouldn't let her climb up to disentangle it. 3. I guess she never broke one of the runners of her sled some Saturday afternoon when it was prime coasting. I guess she never had to give her biggest marbles to a great lubberly boy, because he would thrash her, if she didn't. 4. I guess she never had him twitch off her best cap, and toss it into a mud-puddle. I guess she never had to give her hum- ming top to quiet the baby, and had the paint all sucked off. 5. I guess she never saved all her pennies a whole winter to buy a trumpet, and then was told she must not blow it, because it would make- a noise ! No ; Aunt Libby don't know much. How should she ? She never was a boy ! EXERCISE XVIII. 1. Ham' let, small village. 2. Spire, steeple. THE PRETTY PICTURES, "Written for my little girl to speak at school. 1. I am a little peasant girl, My father's very poor ; No rich and handsome things have we, No carpet on our floor. 2. And yet, this morning, when I woke, I saw, to my surprise, Four pretty pictures in my room, Alike in shape and size. 3. The first was of a lake so clear, With woods encircled round, Through which there sprang a frightened deer, Pursued by many a hound. 28 SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. 4. The second is a quiet stream, Which through a valley winds ; Tall trees and shrubs are on the brink, And flowers of various kinds. 5. The next a little hamlet 1 seems, With its neat church and spire ; 9 [Behind it hills and mountains rise Up to the clouds, and higher. 6. The last is a vast waterfall, Which a broad lake supplies ; Masses of w 7 ater tumble down, And clouds of spray arise. *l. These pictures all will fade away, I know it to my sorrow ; But mother says she thinks I'll have Four other ones to-morrow. 8. Who gives them to me, do you ask ? And how much do they cost ? The giver I have never seen ; The painter is — Jack Frost. EXEBCISE XIX. 1. Bug' beab$, false terrors. 2. Phax' tom$, apparitions. MY FATHER'S H A L F ~ B U S H E L + 1. My father's half-bushel comes oft to my mind, And wakens deep feelings of various sorts ; 'Twas an honest half-bushel, a noble half-bushel, It held a half-bushel of thirty-two quarts! 2. When I think of that bushel, — my father's half-bushel, That dear old half-bushel, so honest and true, — Then look at the bushels, our city half-bushels, Little dandy half-bushels, — it makes me feel blue ! 3. Oh, my father's half-bushel, that country half-bushel ! Say, when, with blest vision, its like shall I see ? 'Tvvas a blessed half-bushel, and he a true man ; For he filled his half-bushel, and something threw free. [. Oh, what are the lawyers, and what are the laws, But bugbears 1 and phantoms, 2 — mere feathers or straws! Unless our half-bushels are all made as one, Like father's half-bushel, I say, we're undone ! EXERCISE XX. BITING ONE'S OWN NOSE OFF. 1. My friends, did you ever know any one to "bite his own nose off?" If so, I think you will agree with me, that it is not a very profitable business. Therefore, never " bite your own nose off." It don't pay well. You may possibly disoblige another person a little by the operation, and, if you are in a particularly bad huff, you may get about as much enjoyment from the opera- tion as you could hold on the point of a cambric-needle. But when you come to balance the accounts, after adding up the items of pleasure on the one side, and the pain on the other, you will find that " biting your nose off" is a most ruinous business. 2. My friends, it don't pay well. I am sure of it. You will find it out, if you are ever foolish enough to try it. I know all about it. I used, once in a while, when I was quite young, and rather more foolish than I am now-a-days, to try my hand at it, and I always found it a bad business. It was one of the poorest invest- ments I ever made in my life. It paid no cents on the dollar. 30 SANDER'S UNION SPEAKER. 3. This "biting of one's nose off" makes me think of a silly fellow who was hunting a coon. Having chased the animal up a high tree, and to the very end of one of the branches, he took an ax, climbed the tree, got upon the limb where the coon was, cut it off between himself and the body of the tree, and down he fell, with the coon, to the ground, coming pretty near being mis- taken for the coon by the dogs, and torn in pieces. If he didn't bite his own nose off, the dogs came very near doing it for him. EXERCISE XXI. THINGS I LOVE* To be spoken by a little child. 1. I love this world so beautiful, I love the flowers and trees ; I love the softly murmuring brook, I love the cooling breeze. 2. I love the birds that sing so sweet, I love the gentle shower ; I love the little twinkling star, I love the twilight hour. 3. I love my Savior best of all, I love to sing His praise ; I love to listen to His call : " Ye children, seek my grace." 4. I love to hear of Heaven, my home, "Where all is bright and fair ; I love to think the time will come When I may enter there. SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. 31 EXERCISE XXII. 1. A chiev' ed, performed. 2. Dis heart' en ed, discouraged. LITTLE BY LITTLE* 1. One step and then another, And the longest walk is ended ; One stitch and then another, And the largest rent is mended ; One brick upon another, And the highest wall is made ; One flake upon another, And the deepest snow is laid. 2. So the little coral-workers, By their slow but constant motion, Have built those pretty islands In the distant, dark-blue ocean ; And the noblest undertakings Man's wisdom hath conceived, By oft-repeated efforts Have been patiently achieved. 1 3. Then, do not look disheartened* O'er the work you have to do, And say that such a mighty task You never can get through ; But just endeavor, day by day, Another point to gain ; And soon the mountain which you feared, Will prove to be a plain. 4. "Rome was not builded in a day," " The ancient proverb teaches ; And Nature, by her trees and flowers, The same sweet sermon preaches. 32 SAWDERS' UNIOST SPEAKER. Think not of far-off duties, But of duties which are near ; And, having once begun to work, Resolve to persevere. EXERCISE XXIII. TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW, J. E. Carpenter. 1. Don't tell me of to-morrow \ Give me the man who'll say, That when a good deed's to be done, Zefs do the deed to-day. We may all command the present, If we aet y and never wait ; But repentance is the phantom Of a past that comes too late ! 2. Don't tell me of to-morrow ! There's much to do, to-day •, That ne'er can be accomplished, If we throw the hours away. Every moment has its duty : "Who the future can foretell ? Then why put off till to-morroiu, What today can do as well ? 3. Don't tell me of to-morrow! Let us look upon the past : How much there is we've left undone, Will be undone at last ! To-day, — it is the only time For all on this frail earth : It takes an age to form a life, — A moment gives it birth ! SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. 33 EXERCISE XXIV. THE CONTRADICTION* Characters. — Jane, Maria, and Mother. Jane. Maria, did you see the fine, fat turkey that Margaret, the cook, had in her basket? * Maria. You mean the goose, my dear, it was a goose, not a turkey. Jane. Oh, no ! you are mistaken ; it was a turkey, and not a goose. Maria. You didn't know the difference, my little Miss ; be- cause its feathers were picked off. I tell you again, it was a goose. Jane. But do you think my eyes could so far deceive me that I can't tell chalk from cheese. I say again, it was a turkey. Maria. I say it was a goose. Jane. You always contradict me, Maria ; it was a turkey. Maria. I do, because you are always so obstinate in your opinion, I really can't help it. Jane. I am not obstinate. Maria. You are. [Attempting to cry.) Jane. Well, I won't stand here to have my feelings hurt, and be insulted in this way. I'll leave you \going] ; but it was a turkey anyhow. Maria. "Well, well ; come back, Jane. I'll give up. Have your own way. It was a turkey. Jane. Well ! thank you, Maria; and now that I come to think of it. ' I really believe it was not a turkey, but a goose. Maria. Oh, this is all nonsense ! I only said it was a goose * because you were so stubborn in saying that it was a turkey. Jane. No, no, Miss ; it's not nonsense at all ; I spoke hastily. I remember now distinctly that it was a goose. Maria. [Angrily^] Upon my word, it is impossible to get 34 SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. along with you. Don't you make rac angry. I tell you it was a turkey. Jane. [Crying.'] This is really too bad. I tell you I know- better ; it was not a turkey. Maria. I tell you it was ! Jane. It was a goose. Maria. It was not. Jam. You are telling a story. Maria. I am not. Jane. It was a goose. Maria. It was a turkey. Mother. [Entering^ What in the world has possessed you girls, you are always quarreling ; what's the dispute now ? ""I r About that goose that the cook brought Jane. -, i J home. ,,. . f •- '-* | About that turkey that the cook brought Maria. , J * ^ ^ home. Mother. Oh, fie ! for shame ! only think of two sisters quar- reling about a goose and a turkey. Oh, shame ! Maria. I'm sure I don't care whether it was a goose or a turkey ; but I don't want to put up with impudence, indeed ! Jane. It is not of the slightest concern to me, Miss Conse- quence, whether it was a goose or a turkey. But I think [whim- pering'], when I gave up to you that it was a goose, you might have given up to me that it was a turkey. [Puts the corner of her apron to her eye.] Mother. Now, my daughters, I have just two things to say t© you : First, the subject of your disgraceful quarrel, was neither a goose nor a turkey ; but merely a chicken of extraordinary size, which your father brought from the late agricultural fair, where it was exhibited. In the second place, neither of you shall taste a piece of it, when it is served up, on account of the noise you have made, and the angry spirit you have shown, at this un- pleasant meeting. SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. 35 EXERCISE XXV. THE FKOG* 1. Of all the funny things that live In woodland, marsh, or bog, That creep the ground, or fly the air, The funniest is the frog. The frog — the " scientifickest" Of Nature's handiwork — The frog, that neither walks nor runs, But " goes it" with a jerk. 2. "With pants and coat of bottle-green, And yellow fancy vest, He plunges into mud and mire, — All in his Sunday best ; When he sits down, he's standing up, As Paddy Quin once said ; And, for convenience' sake, he wears His eyes on top his head. 3. He keeps about his native pond, And ne'er goes on a spree, Nor gets " How come you so ?" for a Cold water chap is he; He has his trials by the lump, Yet holds himself quite cool ; For when they come, he gives a jump, And drowns 'em in the pool. 4. You see him sitting on a log, Above the dirty deep ; You feel inclined to say, " Old chap, Just look before you leap !" 3^ 36 SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER, You raise your cane to hit him on His ugly-looking mug ; But, ere you get it half way up, Adown he goes, " ker chuf8 SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. Horace. Why, I sold Truman Wright, (his name ought to be called Wrong,) a pair of skates last winter for a dollar, and now he says they were not worth half that price, and refuses to pay me. Arthur. Were they that new pair I saw you skating with, in the Central Park, last winter' ? Horace. No ; they were my old ones, — that I have had for two years. They were a capital pair ! Arthur. Why did you sell them, if they were such a capital pair ? Horace. Oh, they were too small for me ! and besides, they were old-fashioned, and I wanted a more stylish pair. Arthur. Well, now, Horace, don't you think you sold those skates for more than they were worth ? I saw Truman trying to skate with them, the next day after you sold them to him ; and the grooves were all worn down smooth, and the wood-work of one was split almost in two. I really do not think they were worth more than fifty cents. Horace. Well, a bargain's a bargain, I say ; and he ought to do as he agreed, and not keep a fellow out of his money for nearly a year. Arthur. Now, Horace, you know Truman is a poor boy, and he can't afford to pay a dollar for a pair of skates that were of no service to him. Horace. Well, if he is poor, he ought to be honest, and pay me what he agreed to. Arthur. I've always thought Truman one of the most honest and conscientious boys in our neighborhood ; and I have no doubt, if you will authorize me to say to him, you will throw off one half the price, he will pay you the other. Horace. Well, you may tell him I will do that, seeing the skates were of no service to him. [Arthur leaves to inform Truman. While absent, Horace continues talking^] I wonder if Arthur thinks he can get anything out of that mean, stingy fellow. He is not so poor but that he can pay fifty SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. 79 cents ; and if be doesn't do it, I shall be convinced that he is not only mean and stingy, but that he is dishonest ; and I despise a dishonest boy. [Enter Arthur.] Well, Arthur, I guess you've had your trouble for your pains. What excuse did the fellow make for not paying me ? Arthur. Oh, he said he was willing to pay you fifty cents for the skates, although they were of no service to him ; and now they were both broken ! Horace. Well, then, why didn't he come forward, like a man, and pay for them, at once. Arthur. Oh, he hadn't the money with him ; but he has gone borne to borrow it of his sister ! He will soon be back, I think. Here he comes now. [Enter Truman.] Truman. Here, Arthur, is the money. You can hand it to Horace. [Tarns to leave.] Horace. Halloo, Truman, my dear friend, is that you ? Give me your honest hand. [They shake hands.] I confess to you I've been rather hasty, and said some hard things about yon, for which I ask your pardon. And now, since the skates were of no use to you, I am not willing to receive this money. [Takes the money from Arthur, and hands it to Truman.] Keep it, my good friend, and I will add to it another half-dollar. You can now buy a new pair of skates, and we will have some rare sport in the Park, in skating time. EXERCISE LXIV. MY FIRST NEW HAT. J. N. M'JlLTON. 1. Oh ! I remember well the day, 'Tis like a dream just passed away, — When my first hat was bought ; I laid it on the chair and stood, "With folded arms in pompous mood, Wrapt up in glorious thought. 80 SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. 2. As proud as any lord was I, ADd thought myself full ten feet higb,- Too tall to play with toys ; Awhile I stood to ape the man, TheD snatched iny hat, and off I ran, To show it to the boys. 3. And many a hand that hat passed through, I watched them all ; said I, "'tis new ; Take care ! don't soil the crown ; For, if you do, my Pa I'll tell, And he'll come out and trounce you well, Or even knock you down." 4. Said I, " Mine's newest, and, of course, For wear it can be none the worse, And must be best of all ; Just see the crown, how high it is, None has a higher crown than this! Take care ! don't let it fall." 5. "I care not," said another voice, " For you or Pa, with all your noise, Nor do I wish to boast ; If mine's not best, I'll never move, And by the hatter I can prove That it has cost the most." 6. Then rant and tear, to fight we went, To settle fairly the event, And set the matter right ; And many a ragged vest and shirt, And many a face besmeared with dirt, Resulted from the fi>ht. SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. , 81 7. Now, circumstances since have shown, That men, — but children older grown, — For trifles quarrel best ; They beat and bruise each other sore, Wreak petty vengeance o'er and o'er, To lord it o'er the rest. EXERCISE LXV. FASHION H0W~A~DAYS- L. Alas ! how every thing has changed Since I was sweet sixteen ! When all the girls wore home-spun frocks, And aprons nice and clean ; With bonnets made of braided straw, And tied beneath the chin, — The shawl laid neatly on the neck, And fastened with a pin. 2. I recollect the time when I Rode father's horse to mill, Across the meadow, marsh, and field, And up and down the hill ; And when our folks were out at work, (It never made me thinner,) I jumped upon a horse's back, And carried them their dinner. 3. Dear me ! young ladies, now-a-days, Would almost faint away To think of riding all alone In wagon, chaise, or sleigh ; 4* 82 SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. And as for giving Pa his meals, Or helping Ma to bake, Oh dear ! 'twould spoil their lily-hands, — Though sometimes they "make cake." 4. When winter came, the maiden's heart Began to beat and flutter, — Each beau would take his sweetheart out Sleigh-riding, in a cutter ; Or, if the storm was bleak and cold, The girls and beaux together Would meet and have the best of fun, And never mind the weather. 5. But now, indeed, it grieves me much, The circumstance to mention, However kind the young man's heart, And honest his intention, He never asks the girls to ride, But "such a man is caged ;" And, if he sees her once a week, Why, surely, " they're engaged /" EXERCISE LXVI. 1. Em bla' zon ed, adorned in glaring colors. 2. Chal' ice, cup or bowl. PUBLIC SCHOOL SONG. Mrs. C. II. GlLDERSLEKVB. 1. (°) A song, a song for the Public Schools, — Our people's proudest glory ; And while we sing, the nation's stars Grow brighter at the story ; SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. And higher float those restless folds, And higher still we follow ; And scorn a name, whose only sound Like ringing gold, — is hollow. 2. The light of truth shall guide us on, When glory lies before us ; With " Right makes Might," emblazoned 1 on The banner waving o'er us. (/.) A song — a loud exultant song, Shall ring from sea to prairie, And tell the world that mind, not gold, Will make our stations vary. 3. Then free as air shall knowledge be, — And open wisdom's portal To every thirsty, earnest soul, Who longs to be immortal. Here, rich and poor stand side by side, To quaff life's purest chalice, 2 And never dream that deathless names Belong to cot, or palace. EXERCISE LXVII. TE LIODLE PLACK PONY* ^~ Dutchman. Chon, you reckelmemper dat liddle plack pony I pyed mit te pedlar, next veek ? John. Yah ; vat of him ? Dutchman. Notings, only I gits sheated purty bad. John. So? Duto-hman. Yah. You see in de vurst place, he ish blind mit both legs, ant ver lame mit von eye. Den ven you kits on him 84 SANDER'S UNION SPEAKER. to rite, he rare up behint, ant kicks up pefore, so verser clan a shack-mule. I tinks I take him a lidclle rite yesterday, ant no sooner I kits straddle his pack, he commens just like a valkin- heam of von steamboat : ant ven he kits done, I vos so mixed up mit everytings, I tints myself sittin round backvards, mit his tail in my hants vor te pridle. John. Val, vat you goin to do mit him ? Dutchman. Oh, I fixed him better as jam up ! I hitch him in te cart mit his tail vere his head ought to be ; den I gif him about a dozen cuts mit te cowhide : he starts to go, but he see te cart pefore him, and make packvards. Purty soon he shtumbles pehint, ant sit down on he tail : ant he look ver much shamed mit himself. Den I hitch him up rite vay, and he goes off shust so good as anybody's pony. John. Yah ! yah ! Ish dat te vay you make him so petter as goot? Den I tinks you no git sheated at all. EXERCISE LXVIII. THE DUTCHMAN'S REMEDY* 1. Ven I lays myself down in my lonely pet-room, Ant tries for to sleep very sound, De treams, oh, how into my het dey vill come, Till I vish I vas under de ground ! 2. Sometimes, ven I eats von big supper, I treams Dat my stomack is flit full of shtones ; Ant out in my shleep, like de night-owl, I schreams, Ant kicks off te pet-clothes, and groans. 3. Den derc, as I lay mit te pet-clothes all off, I kits myself all over froze; In de morning I vakes mit te het-ache an' koff, Ant I'm shick from mine het to mine toes. SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. go 4. Oh, vat shall pe dun for a poor man like me ! Oh, vat for I leat such a life ! Some shays dere's a cure for dis trouble of me, — Tink I'll try it — and kit me a vife. EXERCISE LXIX. SONG OF SARATOGA* Join G. Saxe. 1. "Pray, what do they do at the Springs?" The question is easy to ask; But to answer it fully, my dear, Were rather a serious task. And yet, in a bantering way, As the magpie or mocking-bird sings, I'll venture a bit of a song To tell what they do at the Springs ! 2. Imprimis* my darling, they drink The waters so sparkling and clear ; Though the flavor is none of the best, And the odor exceedingly queer; But the fluid is mingled, you know, With wholesome medicinal things; So they drink, and they drink, and they drink, — And that's what they do at the Springs! 3. Then with appetites keen as a knife, They hasten to breakfast or dine ; (The latter precisely at three, The former from seven till nine.) Ye gods! what a rustle and rush When the eloquent dinner-bell rings ! Then they eat, and they eat, and they eat, — And that's what they do at the Springs ! * la the first place. SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. 4. Now they stroll in the beautiful walks, Or loll in the shade of the trees; Where many a whisper is heard That never is heard by the breeze ; And hands are eoramingled with hands, Regardless of conjugal rings ; And they flirt, and they flirt, and they flirt, — And that's what they do at the Springs ! 5. The drawing-rooms now are ablaze, And music is shrieking away ; Terpsichore* governs the hour, And fashion was never so gay ! An arm 'round a tapering waist — How closely and fondly it clings ! So they waltz, and they waltz, and they waltz,- And that's what they do at the Springs ! 6. In short — as it goes in the world — They eat, and they drink, and they' sleep ; They talk, and they walk, and they woo ; They sigh, and they laugh, and they weep; They read, and they ride, and they dance ; (With other remarkable things ;) They pray, and they play, and they pay, — And that's what they do at the Springs! EXERCISE LXX. HOW TO BE MISERABLE* Frank, a large boy. Charlie, a small boy. Frank. Well, Charlie, would you like to know how to be miserable ? Charlie. Call me captain, sir, if you please ! * The muse who presides over dancing. SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. 37 Frank. What ! call you captain ? Bather a small specimen. Charlie. Nevertheless, call me captain, sir ! Frank. I'd rather call you Major-Colonel. Charlie. I'm no Major, Minor, or any other kind of kernel. I'm captain, sir ! Frank. Yes, sir, your honor ! Well then, captain, I have a question to ask you. Charlie. What is it, sir? Frank. Do 'you want to know how to be miserable? Charlie. That's a queer question. Frank. A queer question'? — so it is. But the fact is, there is no difficulty about being happy ; at least, one might suppose so, as there are so many books and rules to show the way to happi- ness. But who ever wrote a book, and laid down practical rules to show people the art and mystery of being superlatively miser- able ? It is not my purpose to write a book upon this subject, but simply to lay down a few scientific rules, which, if strictly followed, I promise will produce the most delightful misery any body ever enjoyed. Charlie. Well, let me hear your new philosophy. Frank. First, then, never accommodate any body, if you can avoid it. Never visit the sick and afflicted; never give a farthing to the poor ; grind the face of the widow, and crush the heart of the orphan. Charlie. That's Bule No. 1, I suppose. Go on. Frank. Should you be induced to sign a note for your friend, never forget your kindness ; but, every hour in the day, whisper to yourself, " I wonder if he will pay me ?" Be suspicious; think everybody means to cheat you, and conclude you must turn " sharper" in self protection. Closely examine every bill you take, and doubt its genuineness, until you have put its owner to a great deal of trouble. Believe every dime passed upon you, is but a sixpence crossed, and express your doubts of getting rid of it if you take it. Charlie. That's Bule No. 2. Go on. Frank. Sit at the window and look over the way to your 88 SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. ™^ neighbor's beautiful house, which he has recently built and paid for, and say to yourself, " Oh, that I were a rich man !" Charlie. That's prescription No. 3. Go on. Frank. Brood over your misfortunes, and believe that, at no very distant day, you will come to want. Always meet trouble half way, and invite it to go home with you. Let the poor- house ever be in your mind, with all the horrors of poverty and distress. Charlie. That's recipe No. 4. Go on. Frank. Get angry with your neighbors about nothing, and think you have not a friend in the world. Never smile ; but always wear a sour face. Weep and sigh twelve hours in twenty- four. Often take a walk in the grave-yard, and wonder when you will be dead and buried. Charlie. That's formula No. 5. Go on. Frank. Believe everybody hates you, and is trying to crush you. Imagine something bad out of nothing. See everybody's faults and not their virtues. Look upon every man as a hypo- crite. Make mountains out of mole-hills, " Strain at a gnat, and swallow a camel." Charlie. That's Rule No 6. Go on. Frank. Make everybody's business your own. Pry into other people's secrets, and get your trouble for your pains ; and, then, half mad with disappointment, gossip among your neighbors about some stuff the nightmare whispered in your ear. Never stay at home, but go to your neighbor's doors with the broom of scandal, and waste your precious time in sweeping a few dry chips from their pavement, and then you won't die for want of exercise and a little fresh air. Charlie. That's Rule No. 1. Go on. Frank. No; I have done. Seven is the number of perfection. My system is perfect. Whoever follows my directions, will be miserable to perfection, — at least, I think so. Charlie. I think so too. SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. gg EXERCISE LXXI. THE BLUES* 1. Oh ! come, on some cold rainy day, When the birds can not show a dry feather ; Bring your sighs and your tears, Granny Gray, And let us all be unhappy together. 2. Bring the heart-piercing shoots from your corns, Bring all the dull news you can gather ; Bring Dick Dismal, who looks so forlorn, And let us all be unhappy together. 3. We'll talk about mildews and blights, Occasioned by badness of weather,— About horrible dreams and dull nights, And weHl all be unhappy together. 4. And we'll talk of the ghost without head, That kissed mother Mump in the cellar ; And frightened the barber's boy dead, And we'll all be unhappy together. 5. Let us fancy fresh duty on snuff, Cats, lap-dogs, and monkeys, so clever ; Let's suppose that there's taxes enough. To make us unhappy together. 6. Let us talk of invasion and blood, And of demons, black, blue, white, and yellow, — Noah's ark, Noah's self, and the flood ; Let us all be unhappy together. 7. Let us mourn for those days that are past, When our hearts were as light as a feather ; Let's suppose that this day is our last, And ive shall all be unhappy together. 90 SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. 8. Come, quickly, my dear Granny Gray, Lest the sun should break out with fair weather ; And the blues to blue skies should give way, And ice can't be unhappy together. EXERCISE LXXII. CHEER UP* 1. What is the use of being sad? of closing the window- shutters of the soul's tenement against the sunlight of joy ? espe- cially when the world without is so bright and cheerful. Look out upon the smiling creation, and partake of that spirit of glad- ness which pervades all Nature's works. Even though you anticipate troubles at hand, sing and be merry, like tree-toads before a thunder-storm ; and their visits will scarcely be heeded. 2. Murmuring never healed a wound nor eased a pain, except when one frets himself to death. Contrive to keep cares out of the bosom. When a few of these annoying insects once get in there, they breed faster than bugs in June, and eat holes in the heart large enough for any amount of unhappiness. 3. If troubles beset me, I make myself easy, knowing full well they will leave on the morrow; if sorrow comes to seek lodging in my bosom, immediately, I tell her I am all full, and a few over; and, besides, I don't accommodate any of her sort. I laugh at her for supposing she can come in with a bad shilling, and off she goes. Sorrow can't bear to be laughed at. 4. If my pockets should happen to be light, I wouldn't load my heart with lead ; and if, unfortunately, I should break my suspenders in straining to lift too big a bag-full of riches, I should get them mended, and think no more about it. 5. (/.) Cheer up, ye sad and disconsolate ! Your grim plnzzes are enough to frighten happiness over half-a-dozen fonces ; put clean vests upon your hearts ; scour up your SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. 91 thoughts ; let Imagination gather daily fresh garlands from Par- adise ; and permit Fancy to throw a few of her favorite flowers upon the altar of Hope. In a word, be determined not to care for Care, and you will find the world a great deal smoother than it looks to be. EXERCISE LXXIII. 1. De lect' a ble, delightful ; very pleasing. 2. Ed' i ble, eatable. THE IRISH P OT AT + -A Parody. 1. How sweet to the taste is the Irish potato, As memory awakens a thought of the plant ! Its dark verdant vine-top and beautiful blossom, In pleasant transition my memory haunt. Ay ! thought of the root in profusion once growing, On the broad, sunny hill-slope adjoining the mill, At the homestead, how many we raised there's no knowing, For some were but small ones, and few in a hill. The mealy potato, the Irish potato, The thin-skinned potato that grew on the hill. 2. That delectable 1 plant I would praise while I'm able, For, often at noon when returned from the field, I found it superior to all on the table — The best-flavored edible 2 that nature could yield. With what eager appetite, sharpened by labor, I plied knife and fork with a hearty good will ! Alas ! there are none of the old fashioned flavor, — None like the " real Simons" that grew on the hill. The mealy potato, the Irish potato, The thin-skinned potato that grew on the hill. 3. How prime from the full-heapen dish to receive it, As, poised on my fork, it ascends to my mouth ! 92 SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. No appeal to the palate could tempt me to leave it, Though affected by " rot," or a long summer's drouth ; And now far removed from that situation, Where I used to partake of the root to my fill, Fancy fain would revert to my father's plantation, And sigh for the "kidney" that grew on the hill. The mealy potato, the Irish potato, The thin-skinned potato that grew on the hill. EXERCISE LXXIV. 1. Col' lo quy, dialogue ; conversation. COLLOQUY 1 IS CHURCH* LUCRETIA. That tall young fellow's here to-day ! . I wonder what's his name ? His eyes are fixed upon our pew — Do look at Sally Dame ! CHRISTINA. Who is that lady dressed in green ? It can't be Mrs. Leach ; There's Mr. Jones with Deacon Giles ! I wonder if he'll preach ? LUCRETIA. Lend me your fan, it is so warm ; We both will sit at prayers ; Mourning becomes the Widow Ames — How Mary's bonnet flares! SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. 93 CHRISTINA. Do look at Nancy Sloper's vail ! It's full a breadth too wide ; I wonder if Susannah Ayres, Appears to-day as bride ? LUCRETIA. Oh, what a voice Jane Rice has got ! And how the organ roars ! I'm glad weVe left the singers' seats How hard Miss Johnson snores ! CHRISTINA. I'm half asleep — that Mr. Jones ! His sermons are so long ; This afternoon we'll stay at home, And practice that new song. EXERCISE LXXV. A PRACTICAL LESSON* / Home Journal. [Sam comes tumbling into the presence of Ms mother, who is, just then, very busily engaged, ,] ■Sam. Mother, may I go fishing with Ben Hooker ? Mother. No, indeed, you shan't ! Sam. Why not, mother ? Mother. 'Cause you shan't — and that's the end of it. Sam. Well, 'cause what ? Mother. Hold your tongue, in a minute. Sam. Oh, dear ! oh, dear ! I've cut my finger. Mother. Well, you've done it a purpose, I s'pose, — so I don't care. [Slaps his ears.] 94 SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. Sam. Boo — hoo — boo — hoo — oo — oo ! Mother. Stop that noise in a minute, or I'll send you right to bed. Sam. Boo — oo — oo. Mother. Go right to bed, you good-for-nothing. Sam. Well, I'll go to bed — but do put a rag on my finger first. Mother. Let me see your finger. . Oh, my ! why, there's blood on it. Why didn't you tell me ? Sam. I did tell you. Mother. No, you didn't. Sam. I say I did, too. Mother. You didn't. Hold your tongue. Here, I've put some rum and sugar on it. Sam. Thank you, mother ; I always like rum and sugar. It makes it smart — but it tastes good. [Sam begins to suck the rag — and mother begins to smile.] Mother. Now go along out of my way. Sam. Where's my hook and line, mother ? Mother. In the table-drawer there, I guess. Sam. Mother, won't you fix the lead on? My finger's sore, you know. Just slip the cork over the line. [Mother does as requested^] There, that's right. There's Ben Hooker coming now. I'm going, mother. Mother. Do go along, and get out of my way. Sam. I'm going fishing with Ben Hooker, mother. Mother. Go where you've a mind to, only don't bother me. Sam. Well, just box my ears first, mother. Mother. I will, if you don't go away — what a saucy chatter- box ! Sam. Do send me to bed — now do, mother. [Here mother turns away, pretending not to hear, though a lurking smile can be discovered on her face, while the hopeful son has his own way, of course, and a general good feeling prevails on all sides.] 1 SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. 95 EXERCISE LXXVI. BEGINNING OF A BAD CITIZEN. Child. Mother, I want a piece of cake. Mother. I haven't got any ; it's all gone. Child. I know there's some in the cupboard ; I saw it when you opened the door. Mother. Well, you don't need any now ; cake hurts children. Child. No ; it don't. [ Whining.] I do want a piece ; mother, mayn't I have a piece ? Mother. Be still ; I can't get up now ; I'm busy. Child. [ Crying aloud.] I want a piece of cake ; I want a piece of cake. Mother. Be still, I say; I shan't give you a bit, if you don't leave off crying. Child. [Still crying.] I want a piece of cake ; I want a piece of cake. Mother. [Rising hastily and reaching a piece.] There, take that and hold your tongue. Eat it up quick ; I hear Ben com- ing. Now, don't tell him you've had any. [Enter Ben.] Child. [To Hen.] I've had a piece of cake ; you can't have any! Ben. Yes, I will ; mother, give me a piece. Mother. There, take that ; it seems as if I never could keep any thing in the house. You see, sir, [to the child] if you get any thing another time. [Exeunt Mother and Ben. Enter little Sister.] Child. Jane, I've had a piece of cake. Jane. Have you ? Oh ! I want some, too. Child. Well, you hawl, and mother will give you some. / did. 96 SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. EXERCISE LXXVII. A JAUNT TO THE WEDDING* 1. Says Peter, says he, " I'll whip him a little," " Try it, my dear," says she : But he might just as well have whipped a brass-kettle The donkey was made of such obstinate mettle, Never a step moved he. 2. " I'll spur him, my dear, with a needle," says she, " I'm thinking he'll alter his mind :" The beast felt the needle, and up went his heel ; "I'm thinking," says Peter, "he's beginning to feel Some notion of moving behind." 3. " Now give me the needle, and I'll tickle his ear, And set t'other end, too, a-going ;" The beast felt the needle, and upward he reared, But kicking and rearing was all that appeared He had any intention of doing. 4. Says Peter, says he, " We are getting on slow ; While one end is up, t'other sticks to the ground ; But I'm thinking a method to match him I know : We'll let for an instant both tail and ear go, And spur him at once all around." EXERCISE LXXVIII. 1. G-or' mand, greedy or ravenous eater ; glutton. THE GORMAND* c. w. s A gormand who boasted his great power to eat, Gave proof of that power in this wonderful feat : He said, though 'twas true that a Samson had slain His thousands on thousands on Palestine plain, SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. 97 He had slain, at one meal, greater numbers than these, By eating three pounds of skippery old cheese. " I can't see," said a wit, " how that could well happen, Unless they were slain by a similar weapon ; But since you have told how the thing came to pass, 'Tis clear they were slain by the jaw of an ass." EXERCISE LXXIX. 1. Pu sil lan' i mous, cowardly ; mean-spirited. "\ CAN'T." Fanny Fekn. This piece should be spoken by a large girl, who personates the teacher «f a large, stupid boy. She asks him a question, as, " Have you learned your lesson?" To which he drawls out, " I c-a-n-t I" 1. Apollo !* — what a face ! Doleful as a hearse ! folded hands, hollow chest, whining voice, — the very picture of cow- ardly irresolution. ( = ) Spring to your feet, hold up your head, set your teeth together, draw that fine form of yours up to the Light that God majjle it ; draw an immense long breath, and look about you. What do you see ? Why, all creation taking care of number one, — pushing ahead, like the car of Juggernaut, over live victims. There it is, and you can't help it. Are you going to lie down and be crushed? 2. By all that is manly, no ! — dash ahead. You have as good right to mount the triumphal car as your neighbor. Snap your fingers at croakers. If you can't get round a stump, leap over it, high and dry. Have nerves of steel, a will of iron. Never mind sideaches, or heartaches, or headaches, — dig away without stopping to breathe, or to notice envy or malice. 3. Set your target in the clouds, and aim at it. If your arrow * The presiding deity of archery, prophecy, medicine, and music. 98 SANDER'S UNION SPEAKER. falls short of the mark, what of that ? Pick it up, and go at it again. If you should never reach it, you will shoot higher than if you only aimed at a bush. Don't whine, if your friends fall off. At the first stroke of good luck, by Mammon !* they will swarm around you like a hive of bees, till you are disgusted with human nature. 4. " I can't !" Oh, pshaw ! I have more courage than that, if I am a woman ! You are a disgrace to corduroys. What ! a man lack courage ? A man want independence ? A man to be discouraged at obstacles ? A man afraid to face any thing on earth, save his Maker ? Why, I have the most unmitigated contempt for you, you pusillanimous 1 pussy-cat ! There is noth- ing manly about you, except your whiskers. EXERCISE LXXX. ABSALOM BESS* SlIILLABER. 1. A benevolent man was Absalom Bess, — At each and every tale of distress He blazed right up like a rocket ; He felt for all who 'neath poverty's smart Were doomed to bear life's roughest part, — He felt for them in his inmost heart, But never felt in his pocket. 2. He didn't know rightly what was meant By the Bible's promised four hundred per cent., For charity's donation ; But he acted as if he thought railroad stocks, And bonds secure beneath earthly locks, Were better, with pockets brimful of rocks, Than heavenly speculation. . eU * The god of wealth or riches. SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. QC, 3. Yet all said he was an excellent man ; For the poor he'd preach, for the poor he'd plan, — To better them he was willing ; But the oldest one who had heard him pray And preach for the poor in a pitiful way, Couldn't remember, exactly, to say He had ever given a shilling. 4. Oh, an excellent man was Absalom Bess, And the world threw up its hands to bless, Whenever his name was mentioned ! But he died one day, he did, and oh ! He went right down to the shades below, Where all are bound, I fear, to go, Who are only good intentioned. EXERCISE LXXXI. EARLY RISING. J. G. Saxe. 1. " God bless the man who first invented sleep !" So Sancho Panza* said, and so say I ; And bless him, also, that he didn't keep His great discovery to himself; or try To make it — as the lucky fellow might — A close monopoly by " patent right !" 2. Yes, — bless the man who first invented sleep, (I really can't avoid the iteration) ; * San' cmo Pan' za, the famous companion of Don Quixote, who is represented by Cervantes as a peasant, grossly ignorant and credulous, but abounding in wit, humor, and good-natured observation. 100 SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. But blast the man, with curses loud and deep, Whate'er the rascal's name, or age, or station, Who first invented, and went round advising That artificial cut-off, — Early Rising ! 3. " Rise with the lark, and with the lark to bed," Observes some solemn, sentimental owl. Maxims like these are very cheaply said ; But, ere you make yourself a fool or fowl, Pray, just inquire about the rise — and fall, And whether larks have any bed at all! 4. The " time for honest folks to be in bed," Is in the morning, if I reason right ; And he who can not keep his precious head Upon his pillow till 'tis fairly light, And so enjoys his forty morning winks, Is up to knavery ; or else — he drinks ! 5. Thomson, who sung about the " Seasons," said It was a glorious thing to rise in season ; But then he said it — lying — in his bed At ten o'clock, a.m., — the very reason He wrote so charmingly. The simple fact is, His preaching wasn't sanctioned by his practice. 6. 'Tis, doubtless, well to be sometimes awake, — Awake to duty and awake to truth, — But when, alas ! a nice review we take Of our best deeds and days, we find, in sooth, The hours that leave the slightest cause to weep, Are those we passed in childhood, or — asleep ! 1. 'Tis beautiful to leave the world awhile, For the soft visions of the gentle night ; SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. 101 And free, at last, from mortal care or guile, To live, as only in the angels' sight, In sleep's sweet realms so cosily shut in, Where, at the worst, we only dream of sin ! 8. So, let us sleep, and give the Maker praise. I like the lad who, when his father thought To clip his morning nap by hackneyed phrase Of vagrant worm by early songster caught, Cried : " Served him right ! it's not at all surprising — The worm was punished, sir, for early rising !" EXERCISE LXXXII. MRS* CAUDLE'S LECTURE* Douglas Jerroid. 1. There, Mr. Caudle, I hope you're in a little better temper than you were this morning. There, you needn't begin to whistle : people don't come here to whistle. But it's just like you : I can't speak, that you don't try to insult me. Once, I used to say you were the best creature living ! now, if I only speak, you get quite huffish. Do let you rest ? No, I won't let you rest. It's the only time I have to talk to you, and you shall hear me. I'm put upon all day long : it's very hard if I can't speak a word at night ; and it isn't often I open my mouth, goodness knows ! 2. Because once in your lifetime your shirt wanted a button, you must almost swear the roof off the house. You didn't swear? Ha, Mr. Caudle ! you don't know what you do when you're in a passion. You were not in a passion, weren't you ? Well, then I don't know what a passion is ; and I think I ought to, by this time. I've lived long enough with you, Mr. Caudle, to know that. 3. It's a pity you hav'nt something worse to complain of than 102 SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER., a button off your shirt. If you'd some wives, you would, I know. I'm sure I'm never without a neeclle-and-thread in my hand ; what with you and the children, I'm made a perfect slave of. And what's my thanks ? Why, if once in your life a button's off your shirt — what do you say ' a/*' at ? I say once, Mr. Caudle ; or twice, or three times, at most. I'm sure, Caudle, no man's buttons in the world are better looked after than yours. I only wish I'd kept the shirts you had when you were first married ! I should like to know where were your buttons then ? 4. Yes, it is worth talking of! But that's how you always try to put me down. You fly into a rage, and then, if I only try to speak, you won't hear me. That's how you men always will have all the talk to yourselves ; a poor woman isn't allowed to get a word in edgewise. A nice notion you have of a wife, to suppose she's nothing to think of but her husband's buttons. A pretty notion, indeed, you have of marriage. Ha ! if poor women only knew what they had to go through ! What with buttons, and one thing and another ! they'd never tie themselves up to the best man in the world, I'm sure. What would they do, Mr. Caudle? Why, do much better without you, I'm certain. 5. And it's my belief, after all, that the button wasn't off the shirt ; it's my belief that you pulled it off, that you might have something to talk about. Oh, you're aggravating enough, when you like, for any thing ! All I know is, it's very odd that the button should be off the shirt; for I'm sure no woman's a greater slave to her husband's buttons than I am. I only say it's very odd. 6. However, there's one comfort ; it can't last long. I'm worn to death with your temper, and shan't trouble you a great while. Ha, you may laugh ! And I dare say you would laugh ! I've no doubt of it ! That's your love ; that's your feeling ! I know that I'm sinking every day, though I say nothing about it. And when I'm gone, we shall see how your second wife will look after your buttons ! You'll find out the difference, then. Yes, Caudle, you'll think of me, then ; for then, I hope, you'll never have a blessed button to your back. SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. 103 EXERCISE LXXXIII. This piece, though suitable - for an advanced boy, is better adapted to a small boy, who affects to be a man. NOW I AM A MAN* The days are gone when I could roll My hoop along the street, And, with a laughing jest or word, Each idle passer greet. Where'er I go, my pace is slow, — In early years I ran ; Oh ! I was then a happy boy, But now, I am a man ! ii. I used to whistle as I went, Play marbles in the square ; And fly my kite, and ply my top, And coat and trousers tear. I " whistle" for my whistle now, And marble hearts I scan ; The only " kite" that meets my sight, Is man devouring man ! IIL The ladies used to pet me once, And praise my hair and eyes ; And " kissing went by favor" then, — I was a little prize. Whene'er I come, they now are glum, Each look and word they scan, And call me " sir," when I demur, And tell me, I'm a man. 104 SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER IV. Oil ! happy, earlier years, when love Was on the lip and eye ; And lily hands waved after me, And glances said, Good-by ! When there was music in my heart, And life had yet no plan ; Oh ! I was then a happy boy, But now, I am a man ! EXERCISE LXXXIV. MR. JONATHAN SMITH, Mr. Jonathan Smith was a very wise man, His motto was, " Govern your wife" — if you can ; For his wife was a shrew, and whene'er she said go, Mr. Jonathan Smith didn't even look no ; But he put on his hat, and slipped out of the house, To do as she bade him, as meek as a mouse. Mr. Jonathan Smith dearly loved a dispute, In logic he thought that no one was so 'cute : He could argue for this, he could argue for that, He would prove fat was lean, and then show lean was fat. But I wish you could see how his ardor would cool, If his wife but said, snappishly, " Hush, you old fool P 1 Mr. Jonathan Smith thought he'd buy him a farm. "Rural life," he declared, " has a wonderful charm." He'd grow his own corn, and he'd eat his own peas, And serenely grow old in the shade of his trees. But his wife said 'twas throwing his fortune away, It would beggar them all — and he'd nothing to say. SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. 105 4. Mr. Jonathan Smith was a sleek, portly man, When to rule o'er his wife he so bravely began ; But he found 'twas a game at which two could go in, And since he's the loser, he gets very thin ; He has given up everything, even his boast : Only one thing is left, 'tis to give up the ghost ! EXERCISE LXXXV. THE ENGLISHMAN AND THE IRISH INN-KEEPER, Englishman. Halloo, house ! Inn-keeper. I don't know any of that name. Eng. Are you the master of the inn ? Inn. Yes, sir, please your honor, when my wife's from home.. Eng. Have you a bill of fare ? Inn. Yes, sir ; the fairs of Mollingar and Ballinastee are the next week ? Eng. I see ; how are your beds ? Inn. They are well, I thank you, sir. Eng. Have you any " Mountain ?" Inn. Yes, sir ; this country is full of mountains. Eng. I mean a kind of wine. Inn. Yes, sir ; all kinds, from Irish wine {buttermilk) to Bur- gundy. Eng. Have you any porter ? Inn. Yes, sir ; Pat is an excellent porter. He'll go any- where. Eng. No, no ; I mean porter to drink. Inn. Oh, sir; he'd drink the ocean — never fear him for that! Eng. Have you any fish ? Inn. They call me an odd fish. Eng. I think so ; I hope you are not a shark. Inn. No, sir, indeed ; I am not a lawyer. 106 SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. Eng. Have you any soles ? Inn. For your boots or shoes, sir ? Eng. Pshaw ! have you any plaice ? Inn. No, sir ; but I was promised one if I would vote for Mr. B . Eng. Have you any wild fowls ? Inn. They are tame enough now ; for they have been killed these three days. Eng. I must see, myself. Inn. In welcome, sir ; I will fetch you the looking-glass. EXERCISE LXXXVI. ANOTHER YEAR* 1. (si.) Another year ! another year J Oh ! who shall see another year ? Shalt thou, O man of hoary head, Of eye-sight dim, and feeble tread ! Expect it not ! time, pain, and grief, Have made thee like an autumn leaf, — Ready, by blast or self-decay, From its slight hold to drop away, — And some sad morn may gild thy bier, Long, long before another year ! 2. Shall you, ye young' ? or you, ye fair' ? Ah ! the presumptuous thought forbear ! Within the churchyard's peaceful bounds, Come, pause and ponder o'er the mounds! Here beauty sleeps, — that verdant length Of grave contains what once was strength ; The child — the boy — the man are here : Ye may not see another year ! SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. 1Q7 Another year ! another year ! Oh ! who shall see another year ? Shall /, whose burning thirst of fame, No earthly power can quench or tame"? Alas ! that bursting thirst may soon Be o'er, and all beneath the moon, — All my fine visions, fancy wrought, And all this vortex world of thought, — Forever cease and disappear, Ere dawns on earth another year. EXERCISE LXXXVII. REED-BIRD SHOOTING* H. P. Leland. 1. Three men and a bull- dog ugly, Two guns and a terrier lame : They'd better stand out in the mud there, And set themselves up for game. But, no ! I see, by the winking Of that red-haired Paddy's eye, He's been " reeding"* too much for you, sir, Any such game to try. 2. (p.) "Whist, Jemey, me boy, kape dark there, And hould the big bull-dog in ; There's a bloody big cloud of rade-birds That nade a pepperin' !" (/.) " Chip — bang /" speaks the single-barrel, (ff.) "Flip — boong !" roars the old Queen-Anncf There's a Paddy stretched out in the mud-hole, A kicked-over, knocked-down man ! * Shooting reed-birds. | An English musket. 108 SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. 3. The big bull-dog's eyes stick out, And the terrier's barks begin ; The Paddy digs out of the deep mud, And then the " discoursin" comes in : " Oh, Jemey, ye pricious young blag-guard, I know ye're the divil's own son ! How many fingers' load, thin, Did ye put in this rusty old gun ?" 4. " How many fingers ? Be jabers ! I never put in a one ! Do you think I'd be afther a-ramming Me fino-ers into the mm ?" " Well, give me the powdher, Jemey !" " The powdher ! as sure as I'm born, I put it all in your muskit, As I had ne'er a powdher-horn 1" EXEECISE LXXXVIII. PAT AND THE PIG* 1. AYe have read of a Pat, so financially flat, That he had neither money nor meat ; And when hungry and thin, it was whispered by Sin, That he ought to steal something to eat. 2. So he went to the sty of a widow near by, And he gazed on the tenant — poor soul ! " Arrah, now," said he, " what a trate that'll be I" And the pig of the widow he stole. » 8. He rejoiced in a feast, then he went to a priest ; For, in spite of the pork and the lard, SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. JQ9 There was something within, that was sharp as a pin ; For his conscience was pricking him hard. 4. And he said, with a tear, " Will your riverence hear What I have in my sorrow to say ?" Then the story he told, and the tale did unfold Of the pig he had taken away. 5. And the priest to him said, " Ere you go to your bed, You must pay for the pig you have taken ; For 'tis thus, by my sowl, you'll be saving your sowl, And will also be saving your bacon. 6. " Oh, be jabers !" said Pat, " I can never do that,- Kot a ghost of a hap'orth have I ; And Fin wretched indade, if a penny it made Any pace for me conscience to buy." 7. Then in sorrow he cried, and the father replied, " Only think how you'll tremble with fear, When the Judge you shall meet, at the great judgment-seat, And the widow you plundered while here." 8. " Will the widow be there ?" whispered Pat, with a stare ; " And the pig ? by your sowl, is it true ?" " They will surely be there," said the priest, " I declare ; And, oh, Paddy ! what then will you do ?" 9. " Many thanks," answered Pat, " for your telling me that, — May the blessings upon you be big ! On that sittlement-day, to the widow Fll say, * Mrs. Flannegan, here is your pig !' " X10 SANDER'S UNION SPEAKER. EXERCISE LXXXIX. THE RIVAL. PEDDLERS* \_Enter Cute and Conscience.] Conscience. Say, Mister, which way are you driving ? Cute. Going ahead, — don't you sec ? Conscience. Well, I reckon we'd better take different roads ; else one of us will sell no tin ; — what do you say ? Cute. Yes, we will. You go ahead and sell all you can, and I'll come after and sell as much again as you do ; see if I don't. Conscience. How so? Going to sell so much cheaper? Cute. No ; I'll get more than you do for everything I sell. Conscience. Well, I don't see how you are going to make that out. Cute. Never mind that ; you just drive ahead to that house yonder, and try what you can do ; and when you get through, start on your team a little, and then come back for your whip, or something you have purposely left behind, so that you may see how / sell. Conscience. [After driving up to the house where he finds an old man sitting, reading a newspaper .] How do you do ? Want to buy any tin pails or anything ? Old Man. No. Conscience. I'll sell cheap, and ta^e most anything in pay. Old Man. Don't want none. Conscience. But just look at my lot; it's the completest you ever saw. Old Man. But I don't want to. Conscience. Well, I really wish I could sell you something. You really think you can't buy anything to-day ? Old Man. No ; I don't want anything. [He goes out and starts his horse ; but soon returns.'] Conscience. I didn't leave my whip here ; did I ? Old Man. Hain't seen it. SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. HI [Here Cute drives up and addresses the old man.] Cute. How far is it to the tavern, neighbor ? Old Man. Half a mile. Cute. I am as dry as a codfish. I'll take some of your water, if you please. [ Walks up to the table and takes hold of the pitcher.'] Oh, it's cider ! [Makes believe he was going to set it doivn.] Old Man. Drink it, if you like. Cute. [Drinks.] That's royal cider ; you made it for your own use ; can't buy such as that ; if I had a barrel of cider such as that in Boston, I'd get five dollars for it. How do you make it? Old Man. Out of apples, to be sure. Cute. Did you ? Well, they must have been extraordinary good apples ; every one of them fit to make pies of. Got a large orchard, ha'nt you, Squire ? Old Man. No. Cute. First-rate, what there is on it ; got a snug house here, too ; havn't seen many houses I like as well as this, and I've seen a good many in my day. Real snug house. [Looks around, as if hunting a stray fly.] How many rooms have you up-stairs ? Old Woman [who was ironing on a table close by.] Four, and all finished off. Cute. Four, and all finished and furnished ! You are thriving like all natur'. Got any smart girls to fill 'em ? Old Woman. No ; only one. Cute. Well, one's good enough ; better than three or four ordinary ones. How old is she ? Old Woman. Eighteen. Cute. She'll be married before long, I reckon. Not many girls like yours live to be old maids. Old Woman. I don't think she'll be an old maid. Cute. She looks like you; don't she? I've heard of her; she's as handsome as a pictur'. What a setting out you'll give her one of these days, won't you ? 112 SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. Old Woman. Yes ; I've got five pair of linen sheets and four coverlids, that I made for her this very summer. I mean, if she gets married, to give her as good a setting out as any body's daughter. Cute. So I would ; and you are able to do it too. Now I think of it, I've got a few first-rate things that I must carry home to somebody. [ Winks at Conscience, who stands by listening."] I've been offered more than they are worth, but I wouldn't sell 'em; but, really, I've a mind to let you have 'em just for that girl of yours. I don't know though, that I canAet these go, after all ; Betsey will surely expect 'em. But come, you may look at 'cm, at all events. [Old woman puts on he?- "specs" and goes out to the ivagon. He digs down to the bottom and hands up some articles just like those at the top.] Ah, here they are ! always keep 'em stowed away out of sight, — genuine Lafayette tin — come from France. The more you use it, the brighter it grows. These things never want scouring. Old Woman. What's the price of these common ones ? [She points to some just like those in his hand.] Cute. Five shillings ; and these are ten ; the Lafayette tin cost nine and sixpence ; but for that pretty girl's sake, that looks so like you, I'll let you have a few for seven shillings. [He goes on talking till he sells her jive dollars worth, and then starts on in company with the other peddler.] Cute. You went ahead of me ; how much did you sell at that house ? Conscience. Not a red cent's worth. Cute. Ah, didrCt you? Then you didn't come from Con- necticut ? Conscience. No, I didn't ; and I didn't want to, if they all lie as you do ! SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. H3 EXERCISE XC. UPS AND DOWNS* 1. A chap once told St. Patrick's dean, "While rising from his seat, " I mean To set up for a wit." "Ah!" quoth the dean, "if that be true, The very best thing you can do Is down again to sit." 2. Too many, like that would-be wit, Set up for what they are not fit, And always lose their aim ; Set up for wisdom, wealth, renown, But end the farce by sitting down, With poverty and shame. 3. A middling farmer thinks he can Set up to be a gentleman, And then sit down content ; But, after many a turn and twist, Is set down on the pauper list, Afoot, not worth a cent. 4. When farmers' wives and daughters fair, Set up with silks and bonnets rare, To look most wondrous winning; They sit upon a slippery stand, Till indigence, with iron hand Upsets their underpinning. 5. Some city ladies, too, whose gear Has made them to their husbands dear, Set up to lead the ton;* * Prevailing fashion. 114 SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. Though they sit high on fashion's seat, Age, death, or poverty, albeit Will set them down anon. 6. Some fools set up to live by law And though they are " all over jaw," Soon fail for lack of brains ; But had the boobies only just Known where they ought to sit, at first, They'd saved a world of pains. 7. A quack sets up the doctor's trade ; But, could he use the sexton's spade No better than his pills, The man might moil from morn to night, And find his match with all his might To bury half he kills. 8. You may set up for what you choose, As easily as wear old shoes, If e'er so low at present ; But, when you have set up in vain, And find you must sit down again, 'Tis terribly unpleasant. EXERCISE XCI. 1. Ver' sus, against. 2. A la mode', according to the fashion. 3. Par lez-vous', (jpar la vou',) do you speak. NONSENSE VERSUS* BRAINS* If e'er you see a strutting dapper fellow, Whose face insipid with conceit is mellow, With head erect, as if his pate aspire To reach the sky, where burns the Day King's fire, SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. 115 With beaver hat of Genin's recent model, Placed a la mode 2 upon his shampooed noddle, With Byron collar, exquisitely graced, Arid neck-tie ranged with perfect Brummel taste, - With linen shirt starch-saturated, And vest with fancy watch chain freighted, With little gloves, with fingers taper-ending, And pants too tight to admit of bending, With stub-toed boots, which many a corn conceal, And Shanghai coat extending to the heel, With thin " goat-ee," and moustache sparsely grown, With good cigar, and cane of bun' whalebone, " Know this great truth" as by you he doth pass, He's a new invention from the hand of Gas ! He imitates, as well as he can do, The Frenchman and his jargon parlez-vous' Until by bunglings uncouth imitation, lie works himself into amalgamation, — Becomes a local nuisance in the eyes Of all who Fashion's sappy laws despise. But, then, " you know" in this " fast" age of wonder, He gains the most, who makes the loudest thunder ; And nonsense, dressed in Fashion's robes and chains, Has more respect than amplitude of brains. EXERCISE XCII. HEALTH INSURANCE* \Enter Dutchman into the Health Insurance office.] Dutchman. Ish te man in what inshures te peoples' helts ? Agent. I attend to that business, sir. Butch. Veil ; I vants my healt inshured. Vot you sharge ? Agent. Different prices ; from three to ten dollars a year ; and you get ten dollars a week in case of sickness. 116 SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. Dutch. Veil ; I vants ten tollars vort. Agent. What is the state of your health ? Butch. Veil ; I ish shick all te time. I ish shust come out te bed to three hours a tay, and de doctor says he can't do nothing more goot for me. Agent. If that's the state of your health, we can't insure you. We only insure persons in good health. Dutch. You must tick I ish one big fool: vot! yon tink I come to pay you ten tollars for inshure my belt, ven I ish veil? Goot tay, Mr. Agent. EXERCISE XCIII. " I PUY 3EVEM HUMDRED TOXXAR VOR TEN TOLLAR." A well-dressed man, a native of Poland, named Jean Christianski, called at the Detective Police office in New York, in order to give informa- tion of a- swindle that had been perpetrated upon him. Upon entering the office, the victim, in a most agitated manner, asked, ""Who is in sharge of dis place ? I have been sheated." Sergeant Lefferts replied, "I am in charge, sir. What is the trouble?" Christianski then said : 1. "You zae I have a bair of classes on, and I gan not zee very gut; you zee I cum off de zhip, and I vas looking at de great zhips and houses, ven zum vellar cum along and catch me by de heel of my poots. ' By gar !' ze vellar zay to me, ' Sair, you have lost your portc-monnaie;' and quickly I clap my hand on my pockate, and I vind my porte-monnaie all right, and I zay, * No, sair ; you am mistaken ; I no lost me pockate-book.' 2. "Ze man insist zat I lose my porte-monnaie, and zen he open him, and show me seven hundred tollar, and tell me zat if I give him twenty-five tollar, he give me ze pockate-book, and I get ze reward. Zen I say to ze man, 'Give me ze porte-mon- naie, and I give you ze twenty-five tollars out ov him ;' but ze man say, no ; zat would be stealing. Zen I tinks vat a bargain ! SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. % 117 it would be ze best bargain zat I make in six monts ; and I also tinks vat a great coontry zis is, zat I can make such a bargain ! 3. " Zen I look in my pockates, and I vinds ten tollars and vifty zents, and I offare him zat ; ze man vanted more ; but I zay, no. [Confidentially to the officer.] — By gar ! I vould give him more, but I have no more. Zen he agree to take ze money, and I takes ze porte-monnaie and buts him in me pockate, and hold me hand on him, and run as quick as I can to my room. I lock ze door, and I peeks troo ze key-hole to zee dat nobody looks ; zen I gets on ze bed and opens ze porte-monnaic ; by gar ! I veels so rich zat I slaps my hands. Zen I proceeds to look ; ven, by gar ! I found one, two, tree pieces paper and vive pennies ; and, by gar ! two of zem is bad — no goot. 4. " Zen I jump up and run back to ze zhip, vor to tell ze man zat he is von pig rascal, and make him give me back my ten tollar and vifty zents ; and, by gar ! zey is gone ; zen I comes here. I have draveled in ze Koose (Russia), ze Proose (Prussia), in ze Vrance, and in ze Ingland ; and, by gar ! I nivare get so sheated in me life. I altare my mind about ze coontry ; I now tink it a rascally coontry, for sheat me out of my ten tollar and vifty zents." Officer Lefferts asked him if he was sure he had his hat ; upon which he pulled off his hat, and said : " By gar ! I do not know ; I tink it is a petter hat tan mine. I vill leave pefore I lose my poots !" EXERCISE XCIV. THE LAWYER'S STRATAGEM* 1. A gay young spark, who long had sighed, To take an heiress for his bride, Though not in vain he had essayed, To win the favor of the maid ; 118 SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. Yst fearing, from his humble station, To meet her father's cold negation, Made up his mind, without delay, To take the girl and run away ! 2. A pretty plan — what could be finer? But, as the girl was yet a minor, There still remained this slight obstruction,- He might be taken for abduction ! Accordingly, he thought it wise To seek the Squire, and take advice, — A cunning knave, who loved a trick As well as fees, and skilled to pick, As lawyers can, some latent flaw, To help a client cheat the law. 3. Before him straight the case was laid, Who, when the proper fee was paid, Conceived, at once, a happy plan, And thus the counselor began : 4. "Young man, no doubt, your wisest course Is this : to-night obtain a horse, And let your lady-love get on ; And, just as soon as this is done, You get on, too, — but, hark ye, mind, She rides before, — you ride behind ; And thus you see, you make it true, The lady runs away with you !" 5. That very night he got the horse, And put the lawyer's plan in force, — Who found next day — no laughing matter- The truant lady was his daughter ! SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. H9 EXERCISE XCV. SO FORTH AND SO ON. 1. The morning was dull, and betokened a day Unsuited to curing and casting of hay ; So Stephen bethought him to take a trip down, And bring this thing and that, and the other from town ; He harnessed the horse and proceeded to go forth With a pail of pale butter, eggs, berries, &c. 2. Now it happened that Stephen &c. came down • On the day that the show was to enter the town ; And into the village he chanced to come forth, As the caravan came into the town from the north ; (A wondrous collection they purpose to show forth,) Elks, Elephants, Monkeys, Bears, Tigers, &c. 3. And Stephen arrived opportunely, I ween, For never had Stephen an Elephant seen ; So he with old Sorrel fetched up by the fence, To see without paying the twenty-five cents; And soon came the creatures uncouthly and slow forth, — With tusks, and with trunk, blankets, ribbons, &c. 4. But scared at the sight, or the scent, or the sound, Old Sorrel turned quickly and shortly around; And, in turning so quickly and shortly about, The wagon turned over, and Stephen turned out ; And into the gutter the berries did flow forth, Together with Stephen, eggs, butter, &c. 5. Quoth Stephen aloud, as he rose on his legs, "A fig for the berries, &c, and eggs; But henceforth I never can say it, of course, That I've not seen the elephant, nor can the horse," And back to the homestead " old Sorrel" did go on, Leaving wagon, and Stephen, &c. and so on. 120 SANDERS' UKIO'K SPEAKER. EXERCISE XCVI. ARISTOCRACY* N. P. E OGEES. 1. Aristocracy ! let me give it an off-hand blow here. Hate- ful, heartless aristocracy / I detest it above all things. I was subjected to its bloated frown when a boy, and I have a very early, if not a native, inborn abhorrence of it. It has no idea you have any rights, or any feelings. You do not belong to the same race with your paltry, uppish aristocrat. 2. He does not associate with you when you are with him. He makes use of you. He does not recognise you as a party in interest in what is going on. You are no more a companion to him than his horse or his dog ; and you are no more than a dog or a horse, if you condescend to be of his association. He belongs to the first families, — first in idleness, first in indulgence, first in the scorn of humanity. 3. King Richard could carouse and fight by the side of Robin Hood and the outlaws of Sherwood Forest ; but, every now and then, outlawed Freedom would tread on the toe of majesty, and regality would show its teeth and claws. Richard was an odd king, and went among the brave outlaws, and fought on foot among them. But, when outlawry took the liberty to speak to him, on even terms of fellow-soldiership, it roused the lion in him, and he roared and shook his mane. Aristocracy has none of the lion in it; but it feels bigger than a whole den of lions. You must beware of it. You can't live with it. It regards everything allowed you as an allowance — a favor. You have no rights. If you receive anything, you must do homage for it. 4. Now, I like refinement, and dislike coarseness and gross- ness ; but I abominate uppishness. I like washed hands, (but not those " dainty fingers,") cleanliness and elegance, to any extent, and the refined and delicate taste. These are often united with yeomanly nature, with freedom from all supercilious- ness and self-worship, and I love them. But this aristocracy I will not tolerate or endure. I have not the slightest respect for SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER, X_l it. I will not treat it courteously even. I will not treat it at all. I will not have it about me. Out the way with it, and out of the world ! 5. It comes by birth ; it comes by money ; it comes of idle- ness even. It is engendered by trade and by office. Old wealth, however, breeds it the most offensively, — a generation or two of homage paid by poverty to bloated opulence, will breed it the worst kind. It will turn up the nose of the third or fourth gen- eration, at the very mention of common folks. You can tell its nose and upper lip as far as you can see them. And there is a " dumpsy-daisy" look about the eyes and eyebrows, as much as to say, " I care considerable less than nothing about ycli /" And the voice, too, is amazing peculiar. 6. Now, anybody may be as well born as they have a mind to. My father was a gentleman, as they call it, and a scholar, — a good deal of a scholar, and he was educated ; was of Harvard College — not poor New Hampshire Dartmouth — Harvard Col- lege of Massachusetts ! And he was of the learned profes- sion, and his father was a learned divine, and his grandfather, and great-grandfather, and I don't know how far back. One of them, not far back, was President of Harvard College, and back farther yet, one was burnt at the stake. I am well descended enough far's I knoiv ; but somehow it never made me despise any- body. I never could help seeing equal humanity in every living creature, however poor and forlorn, and my father did before me. 7. Perhaps, if he had been an aristocrat, / should have been one ; but he had too much sense — too much real character and manhood. I am half inclined to think /have, — that is, I haven't a vein or an iota of uppish blood in me, and it must be owing to something. I haven't any superfluity of sense, — but — too much to be an aristocrat. Finally, it doesn't take much to be an aris- tocrat. I guess aristocracy is a lack of sense as much as any- thing. Sense of a certain sort may accompany it, or be in the same creature; but it is a senseless concern, and, moreover, superlatively hateful, 122 SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. EXERCISE XCVII. THAT NOBLE THING,-A IVU fiU 1. O men of bloated purses, Cease scorn, if cease you can ; So shall you 'scape the curses Of that noble thing, — a Man ! 2. For all exists, — air, light, and shade ; You are not God's whole plan ; Heaven made not rich nor poor ; it made That noble thing, — a Man ! 3. Oh, cease to swell, to " put on airs," To scoff at misery wan ; Yon trembling wretch, so full of cares, Is a noble thing, — a Man ! 4. Despise no brother God hath made ; His reason canst thou scan ? Who works with head, or loom, or spade, Is that noble thing, — a Man. 5. O pampered Wealth ! read this — well con it ; Degrade no soul ! Wealth can ! Stick no vile, silly livery on it — That noble thing, — a Man ! 6. O King ! O Slave ! ye bond and free, Thou Man of Law, thou Artisan, Thank God for your high destiny — Each noble thing, — a Man ! SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. 123 7. Ye poor, ye halt, ye lame, ye blind, This life is but a span ; Take courage ! for ye soon shall find God's destiny for Man ! EXERCISE XCVIII. STAND, LIKE AN ANVIL. G. W. Doahb. 1. " Stand, like an anvil," when the stroke Of stalwart men falls fierce and fast : Storms but more deeply root the oak, Whose brawny arms embrace the blast. 2. " Stand, like an anvil," when the sparks • Fly, far and wide, a fiery shower ; Virtue and truth must still be marks, Where malice proves its want of power. 3. " Stand, like an anvil," when the bar Lies, red and glowing, on its breast : Duty shall be life's leading star, And conscious inuocence its rest. 4. " Stand, like an anvil," when the sound Of ponderous hammers pains the ear : Thine, but the still and stern rebound Of the great heart that can not fear. 5. " Stand, like an anvil ; noise and heat Are born of earth, and die with time : The soul, like God, its source and seat, Is solemn, still, serene, sublime. X24 SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. EXERCISE XCIX. THE CORONER AND WITNESS* Coroner. Did you know the defunct ? Witness. Who's he ? Cor. Why, the dead man. Wit. Yes'. Cor. Intimately ? Wit. Werry. Cor. How often have you been in company with him ? Wit. Only once. Cor. Do you call that intimately ? Wit. Yes ; for he was drunk, and / was werry drunk ; and that made us like two brothers. Cor. Who recognized the body ? Wit. Jack Adams. Cor. How did he recognize him ? Wit. By seeing him, in course. Cor. I mean, how did he know him'? Wit. By his plush jacket. Cor. Any thing else ? Wit. No ; his face was so swelled, his mother wouldn't ha' known him. Cor. Then, how did you know him ? Wit. 'Cause I wasn't his mother ! Cor. What do you consider the cause of his death ? Wit. Droundiny, in course. Cor. Was any attempt made to resuscitate him \ Wit. Yes. Cor. How ? Wit. We searched his pockets. Cor. I mean, did you try to bring him to ? Wit. Yes, — to the public-house. Cor. I mean, to recover him ? Wit. We weren't told to. SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. i 2 5 Cor. Did you ever suspect the deceased of mental alienation \ Wit. Yes ; the whole village suspected him. Cor. Why? Wit. 'Cause he alienated the Squire's pigs. Cor. You misunderstand me ; I allude to mental alienation. Wit. Some think he was. Cor. On what grounds ? Wit. I believe he belonged to Squire Waters. Cor. Pshaw ! I mean, was he mad ? Wit. Sartenly he were. Cor. What ! devoid of reason ? Wit. Oh, he had no reason to drown himself, as /know of. Cor. That will do, sir. [To the ju?-y.~\ Gentlemen, you have heard the evidence, and will consider your verdict. Foreman. Your worship, we are all of one mind. Cor. Well, what is it ? Fore. We don't mind what ; we're agreeable to any thing your worship pleases. Cor. No, gentlemen ; I have no right to dictate. You had better consult together. Fore. We have, your worship, afore we came, and we are all unanimous. Cor. I am happy to hear it, gentlemen. [To the Clerk.] Mr. Clerk, take down the verdict. Now, then, gentlemen. Fore. Why, then, your worship, it's Justifiable Homicide, — but, then, we recommend to mercy; and hope we shall be allowed our expenses. EXERCISE C. THE WIDOW'S CHOICE* 1. In her bower a widow dwelt, At her feet three suitors knelt, — Each adored the widow much, Each essayed her heart to touch : 126 SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. One had wit, and one had gold, And one was cast in beauty's mold. Guess which it was that won the prize,- Purse, or tongue, or handsome eyes ? 2. First appeared the lovely man, Proudly peeping o'er her fan ; Red his lip, and white his skin,— Could such beauty fail to win' ? 3. Then stepped forth the man of gold i Cash he counted, coin he told ; Wealth the burden of his tale, — Could such golden prospects fail' ? 4. Then the man of wit and sense, Moved her with his eloquence ; First she heard him with a sigh, Now she blushed she knew not why, Then she smiled to hear him speak, Then the tear was on her cheek. Beauty — vanish ! Gold — depart ? Wit has won the widow's heart. EXERCISE CI. TRUTH IN PARENTHESIS, 1. I really take it very kind, — This visit, Mrs. Skinner ; I have not seen you such an age, — (The wretch has come to dinner !) Your daughters, too, — what loves of girls ! What heads for painters' easels ! Come here, and kiss the infant, dears, — (And give it, p'rhaps, the measles!) Hood. SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. 127 2. Your charming boys, I see, are home, From Reverend Mr. Russell's ; 'Twas very kind to bring them both, — (What boots for my new Brussels !) What ! little Clara left at home ? Well, now I call that shabby ! I should have loved to kiss her so, — (A flabby, dabby, babby !) 3. And Mr. S., I hope he's well, — But, though he lives so handy, He never once drops in to sup, — (The better for our brandy !) Come, take a seat, — I long to hear About Matilda's marriage ; You've come, of course, to spend the day, — (Thank Heaven ! I hear the carriage !) 4. What! must you go ! — next time, I hope, You'll give me longer measure : Nay, I shall see you down the stairs, — (With most uncommon pleasure!) Good-by ! good-by ! Remember, all, Next time you'll take your dinners, — (Now, David, mind, — I'm not at home, In future, to the Skinners.) EXERCISE CII. THE CHIEFTAIN'S DAUGHTER* Gr. P. MOEEIS. 1. Upon the barren sand A single captive stood ; Around him came, with bow and brand, The red-men of the wood. 128 SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. Like him of old, his doom he hears, Rock-bound on ocean's brim : The chieftain's daughter knelt in tears, And breathed a prayer for him. 2. Above his head in air The savage war-club swung; The frantic girl, in wild despair, Her arras around him flung. Then shook the warriors of the shade, Like leaves on aspen limb, — Subdued by that heroic maid Who breathed a prayer for him. S. " Unbind him !" gasped the chief, — " Obey your king's decree !" lie kissed away her tears of grief, And set the captive free. 'Tis ever thus, when in life's storm, Hope's star to man grows dim, An angel kneels in woman's form, And breathes a prayer for him. EXERCISE CIII. THE SEWING MACHINE, FIRST SPEAKER. Got one' ? Don't say so x ! Which did you get r One of the kind to open and shut' ? Own it', or hire it v ? How much did you pay v ? Does it go with a crank, or a treddle' ? Say, I'm a single man, and somewhat green, — Tell me about your sewing machine. SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. 129 SECOND SPEAKER. 2. Listen, young man, and hear all about it, — I don't know what I could do without it ; I've owned one now for more than a year, And like it so well, I call it " my dear ;" 'Tis the cleverest thing that ever was seen, This wonderful family sewing machine! 3. It's none of your angular Wheeler things, With steel-shod beak and cast-iron wings ; Its work would bother a hundred of his, And worth a thousand ! Indeed, it is ; And has a way — you needn't stare — Of combing and braiding its own black hair ! 4. Mine is not one of those stupid affairs That stands in a corner, with what-nots and chairs, And makes that dismal, head-achy noise, Which all the comfort of sewing destroys ,* No rigid contrivance of lumber and steel, But one with a natural spring in the heel. 5. Mine is one of the kind to love, And wear a shawl and a soft kid glove ; Has the merriest eyes, and dainty foot, And sports the charming gaiter boot, And a bonnet with feathers, and ribbons, and loops, With any indefinite number of hoops. G. None of your patent machines for me, Unless dame Nature is the patentee ; I like the sort that can laugh and talk, And take my arm for an evening walk ; That will do whatever the owner may choose, With the slightest perceptible turn of the screws. 6* 130 SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. 7. One that can dance, and — possibly — flirt; And make a pudding, as well as a shirt, — One that can sew without dropping a stitch, And play the housewife, lady, or witch, — Ready to give the sagest advice, Or do up your collars and things so nice. 8. What do you think of my machine ? Ain't it the best that ever was seen ? 'Tisn't a clumsy, mechanical toy, But flesh and blood ! Hear that, my boy ? With a turn for gossip and household affairs, Which include, you know, the sowing of tears. 9. Tut, tut !— don't talk. I see it all — You needn't keep winking so hard at the wall I know what your fidgety fumblings mean, You would like, yourself, a sewing machine ! Well, get one, then — of the same design, — There were plenty left when I got mine f EXERCISE CIV. PHRENOLOGICAL DEVELOPMENTS* Col. Sharp, an inn-keeper ; Flipkins, bar-tender, and Verbum Saphead, a countryman ; Spectators. Col. Sharp. I say, Flipkins, where's that/ree-nologist gone? Flipkins. lie went up to Mackerelville this morning, to examine the skull of the sweet poetess that lives there. Col. Sharp. Well, here comes a countryman, and I'll warrant he wants his brains overhauled. What shall we do? Flipkins. Why, give him a benefit, yourself. SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. 131 Col. Sharp. Will you help along ! Flipkins. Yes, sir-ree ! [Enter Saphead.] Saphead. Is this the place where the free-nologist holds out, who can tell a man's char-ac'-ter by the bumps onto his skull ? Col. Sharp. [ With dignity^ It is. Saphead. Wal, I want my potato-trap looked into a little. Where is the PurT-essor ? Col. Sharp. I am the man. Saphead. Oh ! you be, eh ? Wal, put in : feel o' my lumps, and give us a map. What's the swindle ? Col. Sharp. There is no swindle, sir. Phrenology is a science, sir, — a liberal science. Saphead. Oh, yas ! 'spect so : but what's the price for feelin' a feller's head ? Col. Sharp. One dollar, with a chart. Saphead. Wal, go it: what must /do? Lay down, or stand up ? Say, Mister, does it hurt ? Col. Sharp. Not in the least, sir. Take your seat in that chair. [Saphead removes his coat, vest, and cravat y then Col. Sharp runs his fingers through Sap's hair, making it stand up in all directions. Then to Flipkins.] Mr. Flipkins, take a sheet of paper, draw four lines down its whole length, and put down my figures under the heads I mention to you. Flipkins. Yes, sir. Col. Sharp. Have you done it ? Flipkins. Yes, — all right. Col. Sharj). Very well. [Punches and pinches Sap's head roughly.] Put down Philo-progenitiveness, sixty. Flipkins. Down, sir. Col. Sharp. Very well, — Reverence, tiuo-forty. Flipkins. Booked, sir. Col. Sharp. Combativeness, two hundred. Saphead. What's that ? 132 SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. Col. Sharp. No matter, sir, you'll see it on the chart. Caution, one ; Credulity, four hundred. Saphead. What on airth's that last lump ? Col. Sharp. Never mind, now ; you'll understand it by-and-by. Courage, one-eighth. Mr. Flipkins, you've put these in separate columns, as usual ? Flipkins. Yes, sir. Col. Sharp. Very well : add 'em up ! Saphead. Add 'em up ! Is that the way you dew ? Col. Sharp. Of c-o-u-r-s-e ! How else could we get your balance of mind — of intellect? Saphead. Dew tell ! Wal, go ahead ! Col. Sharp. How far does it Daboll,* Mr. Flipkins ? Flipkins. The three columns are equal, — they foot up pre- cisely the same. Col. Sharp. [Solemnly and sympathizinghj^\ It is very strange ! but it is so. Phrenology never lies. You have no predominant character, sir ; you have no intellectual status ; you don't know anything, sir. Excuse me, my dear friend, but I must state the fact, whether you take a chart or not; but as sure as there's any truth in phrenology, you're a confounded goose! [Spectators laugh uproariously.] Under the circumstances, sir, I can scarcely expect you to desire a chart, which you have contracted for : that is a matter of no importance, as it will be a valuable illustration of a unique species, which I can use in my lectures hereafter. I authenticate all my lectures, sir, with real name and residence. The charge of deception in science, is one which was never brought against me, sir, and never will be, sir — never ! Saphead. Oh, never mind! give us the map, — here's the swindle, [handing him a dollar^ I'd rather pny it than have you goin' round the country makin' a fool of me everywhere else, as you Lave here, — you wicked, philo-pro-genitive, two-forty, humbug, you ! * DabolTs Arithmetic, a book extensively used in the schools many years ago. SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. i£3 EXERCISE CV. KEEP COOL* Dick's Poems. 1. Keep cool ! the secret of success in life Lies not in haste, excitement, bustle, strife, — This " bolting dinners," hurrying to and fro, Keeping up one continued, constant go, — Taking your pleasure-jaunts at railroad speed, And never stopping aught to see or heed, — This going to China to have a chat, Taking but one clean dickey in your hat, — These are the features of the times, I own, That give to modern life its zest and tone ; But do they bring us real, genuine joy, True happiness, unmixed with base alloy'? 2. Keep cool ! don't strive for sudden wealth too fast, Fortunes quick made are seldom known to last, — As a watery bubble in the air revolves, A breath but makes them, and a breath dissolves. Write letters, if you've time to waste, But don't, I pray, subscribe yourself, " in haste" — Men have been known their hopes in life to kill, By heedless scratching of some wayward quill. 3. Keep cool ! let prudence all your acts control, And banish hate and envy from the soul ; Be wise, discreet, of dangers take good heed, Be cautious, and you can not but succeed ; Shun all rash acts, — let moderation mark Each enterprise on which you may embark ; And from your mind ne'er let there be effaced The old, yet sterling proverb, — "Haste makes waste !" 134 SANDER'S UNION SPEAKER. EXERCISE CYI. THE SENSIBLE MAN* One day, as forth a rustic walked, He to himself quite loudly talked ; A neighbor, who was passing by, O'erheard his talk, and asked him why He always talked thus to himself, Just like a self- conceited elf; " Come, go with me, let's take a walk, And we will have some sensible talk." To which the rustic made reply, — " I'll give two reasons to show you why I talk to myself, and to myself reply : The first is this, — it has been my plan To talk to none but a sensible man ; And next, whene'er I take my walk, I like to hear a sensible man talk." c. w. s. EXERCISE CVII. A SELF-REFLECTION* 1. Rep ar tee', smart, witty reply ; retort. As I walked by myself, I said to myself, And myself again said to me, — " Look to thyself, take care of thyself, Then others will care for thee." And I said to myself, and answered myself, With the self-same repartee, 1 — "If thou art not sure to look to thyself, Thyself will the folly soon see !" SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. I35 EXERCISE CVIII. A LESSON MISAPPLIED* 1. A poor simple foreigner, not long ago, Whose knowledge of English was simply, " so, so," At a shop window reading, " Good pickles sold here," To the shop-woman said, "Vat is pickles, my dear?" 2. "Why, pickles," said she, " is a sort of a name, Like preserves, and the meaning is nearly the same ; For pickling preserves, though not quite the same way, — Yet 'tis much the same thing, as a body may say." 3. The foreigner bowed, and gave thanks for his lesson, Which, the next day, at dinner, he made a fine mess on ; For a loud clap of thunder caused Miss Kitty Nervous To start from her chair, and cry, " Mercy, preserve us !" While he, keeping closely his lesson in view, Cried, " Mercy, preserve us, and pickle us, too !" EXERCISE CIX. A FOURTH OF JULY ORATION. By one Alcoiiol. This speech will be best represented by one who can well personate a drunkard, with a bottle in his hand. 1. Ladies and Gentlemen, — This is a great day, — a day of independence / It is a day upon which myself and one Gun- powder have long been accustomed to make a display. I hope that the foolish, attempt to celebrate the Fourth of July without us, will be frowned down. Whoever thought of being funny without being fuddled ? Whoever thought of being truly in- 236 SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. dependent, and setting all law and gospel at defiance, without my help ? 2. Ladies and Gentlemen, I am a great character ! Forgive me, if on this glorious occasion, I set forth my merits. It is one of my privileges, as well as that of my subjects, to be boastful and v&m-glorious. I shall, therefore, proceed to speak of myself. 3. My name is Alcohol ! I solicit your attention to a sub- ject which lies near my heart. I am a great prince; and, like other distinguished potentates, I have my followers. To thou- sands and tens of thousands of these, I feel under profound obli- gations for the homage they have done me. They have loved me to intoxication ; and, in doing me reverence, have fallen at my feet. 4. Allow me to tell you something of my subjects. Let me expatiate upon their merits. Let me set forth some of their characteristics ; and then pronounce your judgment, — then say, if monarch ever had higher reason than Alcohol to be proud of his people. 5. And, first, my followers are remarkably devoted. From the standards of Napoleon, Wellington, and even that of Wash- ington, desertion was not uncommon. But, until recently, this crime has scarcely been known in my army. For my sake, I have known my friends to forsake father, mother, wife, and chil- dren. Nay, such has been their zeal in my cause, that they have sacrificed property, health, and even life itself. Indeed, I may say, that, from a p>ure devotion to me, thousands have come to an untimely grave. 6. The most popular monarchshave their enemies. Doubtless, /have mine, — particularly in these degenerate days of delusion and pretended reform. But, then, I have reason to think, that some, and probably the number is large, though ostensibly my enemies, arc secretly my friends. From motives of policy, they say they must appear to be against me ; but, when closeted, they assure me that they still love me, and I think they give no small evidence of the fact. They have a deep intestine attachment to SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. 13Y me. Upon these friends I depend, to restore me to my former honors. 7. Secondly, My followers are brave. In a single instance, during the seven days' battle before Richmond, the rebel officers mingled gunpowder with the spirit, in order to inspire their sol- diers with greater courage. I could have taught them a better lesson than this. They needed a little fourth-proof Jamaica \shaJcing his bottle], fourtfi proof, you observe, — that manufac- tures courage. Why, I never yet saw an army or a rabble whose courage flagged, if they had taken a sufficient quantity of the pure " critter." 8. Thirdly, My subjects belong to different countries, and, consequently, speak different languages. Whatever be their mother tongue, their accents, inflections, and cadences, especially the latter, are strikingly similar. Some lisp beautifully, — some have an elegant clip of their words, — others, at times, are affected with hesitancy and stammering, or, perhaps, they are unable to speak at all. 9. A fourth characteristic is independence. My followers are ever ready to pay me and my family the honors of sovereignty ; and here their homage terminates. They are, to a man, Free- men ; and have taken the oath of allegiance, a thousand times, that they will live freely, however they may die. Generally, they feel rich, however poor ; and have golden prospects, without the certainty of a single dollar. I have know them, even when lying at the bottom of a ditch, and unable to move a limb, so buoyant with spirits, as to call out to the universe — "To the right wheel ! March /" 10. Finally, my friends, one of my people knoivs more than anybo ly else, or he thinks he does, which is the same thing. It is an old adage, that " the drunken man thinks the world turns round." What a glorious privilege ! It is true, he reels and staggers, and, perhaps, tumbles down; but still he thinks that he alone is upright, steadfast, and perpendicular, while everybody else is tipping and diving as if there was an earthquake ! Is not 138 SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. this an enviable superiority'? Thus it is, my friends, if you embrace me, you will in your own heart and mind be " glorious, O'er all your enemies victorious!" 11. You will think you know more than anybody else, — are better than anybody else, and are alike superior to the restraints of decency, morality, religion, and law. This is true indepen- dence ! This is unbounded liberty ! If, the next day, you feel the horrors, take a little more of me — a little more — and a little more ; this is the true way to keep up your feelings of indepen- dence. Walk up, ladies and gentlemen, now is your time ! Who's for king Alcohol and Independence ? Who'll enlist under my banner ? EXERCISE CX. THE WASHINGTOKIAflTS STORY Liquor is the subject of my story ; I can not tell what you and other folks think Of getting drunk ; but, for my single self, I had as lief not be, as live and be The poor , degraded wretch that sucks the bottle. I was born free and sober ; so were you : We have no need of brandy. We endure The winter's cold, and summer's heat, the best, Without its use. I do remember well, That once, upon a raw and piercing day, A toper came, and challenged me to work In open air, that he might try the strength Of alcohol against pure, clear, cold water. SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. 139 Upon the word, shouldering my burnished ax, I started with the fellow for the woods. He took with him a jug well filled with rum ; I slacked my thirst with water from the spring. We toiled with vigor, and the air around Answered in echoes to our sounding steel ; But, ere the sun had reached its noonday point, The liquid in the jug was well-nigh spent. A mist now gathered on the toper's eyes, And strength forsook his arm. His feeble blows Fell harmless against the mighty oaks and pines, That seemed to smile to see the uplifted ax Strike sideways, glance, and cleave the frozen earth. The effect was irresistible, — I laughed To bursting nigh ; — and yet I should have wept. My dinner-time had come ; and hunger keen, That sure attendant upon useful toil, Turned my thoughts homeward, where the viands hot Awaited my arrival I spoke To my companion, and he answered me; But scarce had strength to make speech audible. We started on together for our homes, — My pace was even, for my limbs were strong ; My heart was happy, and my head was clear. My friend fared not so well. His trembling legs Appeared unwilling to support his weight : They tottered, reeled, and made " Virginia fence." He said, " All Nature had conspired against him ;" The trees themselves were quarrelsome, and struck Him right and left, at every step. The stumps Grew turbulent, and stumped him to a fight. He was no coward ; but he saw the odds 140 SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. Were much against him ; so he passed along, — And, though his enemies provoked him sore, — Oft rising up to strike him in the face, He journeyed on and uttered but the threat, "You'll catch it when I catch you all alone? 6. The fences now began to dance around him ; The earth piled up in mountains in his path ; The stones came rolling 'gainst his feet, and knocked His legs from under him ; and then the ground, Taking advantage of his helpless plight, Most cowardly, threw dirt into his face. At length, he saw his house approaching him, — "Whirling, it flew towards him. Windows, doors, Sides, roof, foundation, by enchantment moved, Changed places constantly. 7. The cellar door Attacked him first, — it oped and let him in. And there I left him, Covered with dirt and glory, — sound asleep. When the next morning came, I sought his house With temperance pledge, — he signed it, and is safe. . He's now a Washing 'tonian true as steel, And hates the liquid fire, as he dreads death. EXERCISE CXI. THE HERO'S LEGACY. George P. Morris. 1. Upon the couch of death, The champion of the free, Gave, with his dying breath, This solemn leprae v : SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. 141 " Sheathed be the battle-blade And hushed the cannons' thunder ; The glorious Union God hath made, Let no man put asunder ! 2. " War banish from the land, Peace cultivate with all ! United you must stand, Divided } t ou will fall ! Cemented with our blood, The Union kept unriven !" While freemen heard this counsel good, His spirit soared to heaven. EXERCISE CXII. BATTLE FOR THE TRUTH, 1. We are living, we are dwelling In a grand and awful time ; In an age, on ages telling, To be living is sublime. 2. Hark ! the waking up of nations, Gog and Magog to the fray; (p.) Hark! what soundeth ? — is creation Groaning for its latter day' ? 3. Will ye play, then ? (<) will ye dally With your music and your wine' ? (/.) Up! it is Jehovah's rally, God's own arm hath need of thine. A. C. Coxe. 142 SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. 4. Hark! the onset! (<) will ye fold your Faith-clad arms in lazy lock' ? (ff.) Up ! oh, up! thou drowsy soldier, Worlds are charging to the shock. 5. Worlds are charging ; Heaven beholding ; Thou hast but an hour to fight ; Now the blazoned cross unfolding, (<) On! right onward for the right. 6. On ! let all the soul within you, For the truth's sake go abroad ; ( °° ) Strike ! let every nerve and sinew Tell on ages, — tell for God ! EXERCISE CXIII. THE SUSPICIOUS FRENCHMAN. Merchant. [Talking alone to himself in his office.] These are hard times, sure enough. Yet there is more lack of confidence than of money. Everybody is afraid of his neighbor. Now, I am doing a safe business, yet I presume that little Monsieur Gre- nouille, who lent me that five thousand on interest, feels anxious about it. Here he comes, with a face as long as my arm. [Enter Frenchman.] How do you do? Frenchman. Sick, ver' sick. Merchant. What is the matter ? Frenchman. De times is de matter. Merchant. De times ! What disease is that ? Frenchman. De maladie vat breaks all de merchants, ver' much. Merchant. Ah, the times, eh ? Well, they are bad, very bad sure enough ; but how do they affect you ? SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. 143 Frenchman. Vy, monsieur,* I lose de confidence. Merchant. In whom ? Frenchman. In everybody. Merchant. Not in me, I hope ? Frenchman. Pardonnez-moi, monsieur ; f but I do not know who to trust when all de merchants break, several times, all to pieces. Merchant. Then I presume you want your money ? Frenchman. Oui, monsieurj I starve for want of l'argent.§ Merchant. Can't you do without it ? Frenchman. No, monsieur ; I must have him. Merchant. You must ? Frenchman. Oui, monsieur. Merchant. And you can't do without it ? Frenchman. No, monsieur; not von little moment longare, [The merchant takes his bank-book, draws a check for the amount on the bank, and hands it to his visitor.~\ Vat is dis, monsieur? Merchant. A check for five thousand dollars which you loaned me, with the interest. Frenchman. Is it bon ? {good) Merchant. Certainly. Frenchman. Have you de Vargent in de bank ? Merchant. Yes ; to be sure. Frenchman. And is it perfectly convenient to pay de sum ? Merchant. Undoubtedly. What astonishes you ? Frenchman. Vy, dat you have got him in dese times. Merchant. Oh, yes ! and I have plenty more. I owe nothing that I can not pay at a moment's notice. Frenchman. \Rubbing his head, very much perplexed^ Mon- sieur, you shall do me one little favor, eh % Merchant. With all my heart. Frenchman. Veil, monsieur ; you shall keep de Vargent for me some little year longare. Merchant. Why, I thought you wanted it. * Sir. f Pardon m?, sir. \ Yes, sir. § The monej:. 144 SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. Frenchman. I no vant de V argent ; I vant de grand confi- dence. Suppose you no got de money, den I vant him ver' much. Suppose you got him, den I no want him at all. Vous comprenez,* eh 1 EXERCISE CXIV. GENERAL SCOTT AND THE VETERAN. Bayard Taylor. I. An old and crippled veteran to the "War Department came, He sought the Chief who led him, on many a field of fame, — The Chief who shouted "Forward!" where'er his banner rose, And bore its stars in triumph behind the flying foes. "Have you forgotten, General," the battered soldier cried, " The days of eighteen hundred twelve, when / was at your side' ? Have you forgotten Johnson, who fought at Lundy's Lane' ? ■> Tis true, I'm old and pensioned, but I want to fight again." in. "Have I forgotten' ?" said the Chief: "My brave old soldier, no] And here's the hand I gave you then, and let it tell you so ; But you have dono your share, my friend; you're crippled, old, and And we have need of younger arms and fresher blood to-day." graj, " But, General," cried the veteran, a flush upon his brow, " The very men who fought with us, they say are traitors now : They've torn the flag of Lundy's Lane, our old red, white, and blue, And while a drop of blood is left, I'll show that drop is true. " I'm not so weak but I can strike, and I've a good old gun, To get the range of traitor's hearts, and prick them, one by one. Your Minie rifles and such arms, it ain't worth while to try ; I couldn't get the hang o' them, but I'll keep my powder dry !" * You understand. SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER, VI. 145 " God bless you, comrade !" said the Chief, — l! God bless your loyal heart 1 But younger men are in the field, and claim to have a part ; They'll plant our sacred banner firm, in each rebellious town, And woe, henceforth, to any hand that dares to pull it downl" "But, General!'' — still persisting, the weeping veteran cried, " I'm young enough to follow, so long as you're my guide ; And some, you know, must bite the dust, and that, at least, can I; So, give the young ones place to fight, but me a place to die I VIII. "If they should fire on Pickens, let the colonel in command Put me upon the rampart with the flag-staff in my hand : So odds how hot the cannon-smoke, or how the shell may fly, I'll hold the Stars and Stripes aloft, and hold them till I die 1 IX. " I'm ready, General ; so you let a post to me be given, "Where "Washington can look at me, as he looks down from Heaven, And say to Putnam at his side, or, may be, General Wayne, — ' There stands old Billy Johnson, who fought at Luncly's Lane !' " And when the fight is raging hot, before the traitors fly, — When shell and ball are screeching, and bursting in the sky, If any shot should pierce through me, and lay me on my face, My soul would go to Washington's, and not to Arnold's place !" EXERCISE CXV. THE HERO* OF THE DRUM, Geo kgb "W. Bungay. 1. The drummer with his drum, Shouting, " Come, heroes, come !" Forward marched, nigher, riigher, When the veterans turned pale, * Robert Henry Hendershot 146 SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. And the bullets fell like hail, In that hurricane of fire, Beat his drum, Shouting " Come ! Come ! come ! come !" And the fife, In the strife, Joined the drum, drum, drum, — And the fifer with his fife, and the drummer with his drum, Were heard above the strife and the bursting of the bomb, The bursting of the bomb, Bomb, bomb, bomb. 2. Clouds of smoke hung like a pall Over tent, and dome, and hall ; Hot shot and blazing bomb Cut down our volunteers, Swept off our engineers ; But the drummer beat his drum, — And he beat " No retreat !" With his drum ; Through the fire, Hotter, nigher, Throbbed the drum, drum, drum. In that hurricane of flame, and the thunder of the bomb ! Braid the laurel- wreath of fame for the Hero of the drum, The Hero of the drum, Drum, drum, drum. 3. Where the Rappahannock runs, The sulphur-throated guns Poured out iron hail and ire ; But the heroes in the boats Heeded not the sulphur throats ; For they looked up higher, higher, SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. 147 While the drum, Never dumb, Beat, beat, beat, Till the oars Touched the shores, And the fleet feet, feet Of the soldiers on the shore, with the bayonet and gun, Though the drum could beat no more, made the dastard rebels run. The dastard rebels run, Run, run, run. EXERCISE CXVI. THE MILITARY DRILL* Boy dressed in regimentals, for commanding officer. Other boys to rep- resent soldiers. They should have broomsticks, or something to represent arms. Polite Officer. Gentlemen, you will please give me your atten- tion. [They form in rank.'] 1. You will be kind enough to cast your head and eyes to the right, and endeavor to observe the " immaculate bosom" of the third gentleman from you. [They comply with this, as well as the subsequent requests.] 2. Oblige me now by casting your visual organs to the front. 3. Allow me to suggest the propriety of coming to an order arms. [They make no change of position.] 4. Gentlemen, will you condescend to order arms' ? 5. You will confer a special favor by coming to a support. 6. If it meets your approbation, I beg leave to propose that you carry arms. *7. Now, gentlemen, you will please present arms. 8. I shall consider myself under an everlasting obligation if you will, once more, oblige me by carrying arms. 148 SANDER'S UNION SPEAKER. 9. Having a just and high appreciation of your intrinsic worth, as well as your exalted position in society, I humbly trust that I am not infringing upon your good nature, when I request you to trail arms. 10. Gentleman, for the last time, permit me to remark that it is my earnest desire that you should come to a shoulder arms. 11. If it is not too laborious, I should be delighted to see you change your position by coming to a right face. 12. To conclude your arduous exercises, I will still further trespass upon your well-known affability by desiring you to come to arms port. 13. Gentlemen! soldiers! blood-stained heroes! if congenial to your feelings, you may consider yourselves dismissed. I beg to remark, however, that, should it suit your convenience, you will be kind enough to hold yourselves subject to be again called into line, which you will be made aware of, by the repeated and vigorous tapping of the " spirit-stirring drum," recollecting, at the same time, that the first vibration of that sweet instrument, that strikes the tympanum of your ears, is merely precautionary. Allow me to exclaim, in stentorian voice : (°°) Sever the RANKS ! MARCH ! [They break up in great confusion, while the Polite Officer marches magnificently away.] EXERCISE CXVII. THE YOUNG VOLUNTEER AND HIS MOTHER* To be spoken by a young woman. Boy dressed in uniform standing by her side. 1. (pi.) He is my boy, my only boy ; His father died long years gone by; And little have I known of joy But gazing on his dark-blue eye. 'Tis lighted now with higher glow ; His country calls him ; let him go ! SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. 149 He never grieved me ; tender, kind, Strong, loving ; full of hope and grace ; My life was in his own entwined, My heart but mirrored back his faoe. With stern resolve he seeks the foe ; — His country calls him • let him go ! 3. How often I have sat beside Him sleeping ; clustering round his head Those rich brown locks, my praise, my pride, And now the earth must be his bed ! 'Tis wrong to grieve for this, I know, [ Wipes her eyes.~\ His country calls him ; let him go / 4. Ah, in how many hearts this strife Is waged in prayer, by prayer is won ; There is the wood, the fire, the knife, And for the sacrifice — my son ! 'Twould kill me if he fell " t but, no ! His country calls him ; let him go ! EXERCISE CXVIII. SHOULDER ARMS* C. G. DtTNN. 1. There's a cry sweeps o'er the land, — Shoulder arms ! Who will now a coward stand, While the country needs his aid ? Cowardice for fools was made. Shoulder arms ! 150 SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. 2. "Who's afraid to meet the foe ? Shoulder arms ! Who would see the flag laid low In the dust by traitors base ? Let him ever hide his face. Shoulder arms ! 3. Who would win the soldier's fame ? Shoulder arms ! Who would bear a hero's name, Let him raise his strong arm high, Now to strike or now to die ! Shoulder arms I 4. See the rebel ranks advance ! Shoulder arms ! Wake, man, from your guilty trance ; This is time for action deep, Not the hour for sloth or sleep ! Shoulder arms / 5. Voices call you from the grave, — Shoulder arms ! Voices of the martyrs brave, Who, amid the shock of wars, Battled for the stripes and stars. Shoulder arms! 6. By the names of heroes dead, Shoulder arms ! Precious hearts as yours have bled To maintain the Union's might ; Now it is your turn to smite. Shoulder arms ! SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. 15X 7. Onward ! onward to the van ! Shoulder arms ! Onward, like a fearless man ! Stand not like one deaf and dumb While you hear th' appealing drum. Shoulder arms! 8. God will bless the work you do, — Shoulder arms ! He will lead you safely through Every peril, while you fight 'Gainst the wrong t' uphold the right. Shoulder arms ! 9. Hesitate no longer, man, — Shoulder arms ! Go and do the good you can ; Wait not till the day is past ; Go, and while your heart beats fast, Shoulder arms / EXERCISE CXIX. DUTIES OF AMERICAN CITIZENS* Daniel Webstee. 1. This lovety land, this glorious liberty, these benign institu- tions, the dear purchase of our fathers, are ours ; ours to enjoy, ours to preserve, ours to transmit. Generations past, and generations to come, bold us responsible for this sacred trust. Our fathers, from behind, admonish us, with their anxious paternal voices ; posterity calls out to us, from the bosom of the future; the world turns hither its solicitous eyes, — all, all conjure us to act wisely, and faithfully, in the relation wbich we sustain. 2. We can never, indeed, pay the debt which is upon us ; but, by virtue, by morality, by religion, by the cultivation of every 152 SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. good principle and every good habit, we may hope to enjoy the blessing, through our day, and to leave it unimpaired to our children. Let us feel deeply how much of what we are and what we possess, we owe to this liberty, and these institutions of government. 3. Nature has, indeed, given us a soil which yields boun- teously to the hands of industry ; the mighty and fruitful ocean is before us, and the skies over our heads shed health and vigor. But what are lands, and seas, and skies, to civilized man, without society, without knowledge, without morals, without religious culture ? and how can these be enjoyed, in all their extent, and all their excellence, but under the protection of wise institutions and a free government ? 4. Fellow-citizens, there is not one of us, there is not one of us here present, who does not, at this moment, and at every moment, experience in his own condition, and in the condition of those most near and dear to him, the influence and the bene- fits of this liberty, and these institutions. Let us then acknowl- edge the blessing ; let us feel it deeply and powerfully ; let us cherish a strong affection for it, and resolve to maintain and per- petuate it. The blood of our fathers, let it not have been shed in vain ; the great hope of posterity, let it not be blasted. EXERCISE CXX. AMERICAN SAILOR'S SONG OF .INDEPENDENCE W. C. Bkown. 1. Ye sons of Columbia! land of the brave, Who roam far away on the ocean's bright wave, To-day in our dear native land is unfurled The banner of Freedom, the pride of the world ! 2. From the East to the West, from the South to the North, Each patriot welcomes the glorious Fourth ; SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. 153 The booming of cannon and martial array, Swells the splendor and pomp of this much-honored day. 3. Though no cannon peals loud o'er the ocean serene, Nor the joy of the nation disturbs the still scene, Yet the flag of our country floats brightly alone, And who is not proud when he calls it his own ? 4. Our gallant ship gayly skims o'er the blue sea, As if conscious of bearing the Flag of the Free ; Then, Mp i hip, hurrah ! for your banner unfurled, And three hearty cheers for the pride of the world ! EXERCISE CXXI. PROPHECIES FOR THE YEAR* 1. My hearers, your ears, if you please, if you please, While I tell what my eye of prophecy sees, — What there is in the future for each and for all, The plenty in store for the greatest and small : 2. Plenty of changes, and all for the worse, Plenty of blessings exchanged for one curse ; Plenty of nostrums that never were tried, Plenty of liberty, all on one side ; Plenty to overturn, few to uphold, Plenty of poverty, great lack of gold ; Plenty of promise, and nothing to hand, Plenty of paupers all gaping for land. 3. Plenty of dupes to a handful of knaves, Plenty of freemen fast verging to slaves ; Plenty of atheists scoffing at God, Plenty of faction at home and abroad ; 7* 15 4 SANDER'S UNION SPEAKER. Plenty of colonies cutting adrift, Plenty of demagogues lending a lift ; Plenty of newspapers springing the mine, Plenty of readers to think it all fine. 4. Plenty of projects with misery fraught, Plenty of fools by no precedents taught ; Plenty of Quixotry — still in the wrong, Plenty of humming, that can not last long ; Plenty of law -givers, " tattered and torn," Plenty of delegates fettered and sworn ; Plenty of gentlemen cutting their throats, Plenty of waverers turning their coats ; Plenty of rogues with it all their own way, Plenty of honest men skulking away ; Plenty of Whigs to send England to ruin, Plenty of Tories to let them be doing. 5. Plenty of meddling without a pretense, Plenty of war that is all for " offense ;" Plenty of crowns that tottering sit, Plenty of tenants with notice to quit; Plenty of ancestry, just to disown, Plenty of rats undermining the throne ; Plenty to-day to work mischief and sorrow, Plenty to vote a Republic to morrow. EXERCISE CXXII. THE LAWYER AND IRISHMAN* )>ehman sitting in a chair when the lawyer enters his office. Lawyer. Well, Pat, what are you doing here ? Patrick. An' plase yer honor, ain't I sitting in this chair ? Lawyer. Yes ; I see you are sitting in that chair ; but what are you here for ? SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. 155 Patrick. Och ! and what am I hare for ? and didn't I come to see yer honor about that drame of mine ? Lawyer, What was your dream, Pat ? come, let us have it. Patrick. It was a strange drame ; it was, indade ; an' all about my old frind, Mike O'Neil ; bless his poor sowl. Lawyer. Well, what about your friend Mike ? Patrick. Faith, an' did yer honor ever know Mike O'Neil? He was jist my age, for he died the very day I was born. Lawyer. That is very singular ; but what has that to do with your dream ? Patrick. I was jist about to tell you that he died the same day that Jemey McMurphy died, who has been in his grave two years jist, this very day. Lawyer. But what has McMurphy to do with your dream ? Patrick. But didn't my frind Mike chate every body when he was alive. He was my next-door neighbor many a yare ; for he only lived in the nixt strate but one. Lawyer. I think you must have forgotten your dream, Pat. Patrick. No, indade ; I was just thinking about it ; for you must know that he chated me badly when he was my nixt neighbor ? Lawyer. Who was it that cheated you so badly ? Patrick. Plase yer honor, an' wasn't it my old frind Mike who chated me out of my own pig ? indade it was, dear sowl. Lawyer. But what was your dream ? Patrick. An' wasn't it that of which I came to tell you ; in- dade it was, sir ; for, in my dream, I saw my old frind Mike, an' wasn't Jemey McMurphy with him, sure ? Lawyer. Well, where were they, and what were they doing ? Patrick. Bless yer honor, they were jist the same as before they died, only a little more so. Lawyer. What were they doing, Pat ? Patrick. That is jist what I am about to tell you ; for I didn't know before that people trade horses in another world. Lawyer. Did your dream take you to heaven, then ! 156 SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. Patrick. May it plase yer honor, it did, indade ; an' it was there I saw my old frind Mike. Lawyer. Did you say he was trading horses ? Patrick. That is jist the thing he was doing ; an' wasn't it with Jemey McMurphy he was trading ? sure it was. Lawyer. I suppose they made a fair and honest trade. Patrick. Indade they didn't ; for it was my frind Mike who couldn't be afther forgetting his old tricks ; and he chated Jemey badly. Lawyer. "Well, what did Jemey do then ? Patrick. Faith, an' says he, " I'll prasecute you, sure I will." Lawyer. And how did they make out with the lawsuit ? Patrick. Sure, an' they didn't Lave any, indade they didn't. Lawyer. Why didn't they have a lawsuit ; I thought you said Jemey threatened to prosecute Mike ? Patrick. That's the very thing I was about to tell you, sir ; for I thought it was what yer honor ought to be afther knowing. You see, Jemey went to get a lawyer, an' he made inquiry every- where, indade he did ; and then he came back, an' says he, " Mike, I can't prasecute you, any how ; for I've sarched the whole kingdom of heaven for a lawyer, an' there isn't a single one in it, indade there isn't." EXERCISE CXXIII. EXCELSIOR* 1. Upon a ladder's lowest rung, A hodman with his mortar hung, And ever and anon he sung, — Excelsior ! 2. Upward he hies with laughing eye, Now bent below, now cast on high ; Prompt to each query his reply, — Excelsior ! SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. 15Y 3. Iq very fullness of his fun, He up the airy round would run, Then, springing, take two steps in one, — Excelsior ! 4. With flute-like voice and deer-like bound, He capered on the trembling round, And shouted still the thrilling sound — Excelsior ! 5. Agape to mark each merry prank, The Broadway herd stood rank on rank, The long, the short, the lean, the lank, — ■ Excelsior ! 6. " Good people, wot's that covey at, With tattered togs and figure squat, A caperin' like a crazy cat ? Excelsior !" 7. " I guess that chap is in a fix, Them hollerings and monkey tricks, Ain't nowhow mortar fit for bricks ; — Excelsior !" EXERCISE CXXIY. NOW OR NEVER* O. W. Holmes. I. Listen, young heroes ! your country is calling ! Time strikes the hour for the brave and the truo ! )w, while the foremost are fighting and falling, Fill up the ranks that have opened for you ! 158 SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. II. You whom the fathers made free and defended, Stain not the scroll that emblazons their fame ! You whose fair heritage spotless descended, Leave not your children a birthright of shame ! in. Stay not for questions while Freedom stands gasping ! Wait not till Honor lies wrapped in his pall ! Brief the lips' meeting be, swift the hands clasping, — " Off for the wars is enough for them all ! Break from the arms that would fondly caress you ! Hark ! 'tis the bugle-blast ! sabers are drawn ! Mothers shall pray for you, fathers shall bless you, Maidens shall weep for you when you are gone ! v. Never or now ! cries the blood of a nation Poured on the turf where the red rose should bloom ! Now is the day and the hour of salvation; Never or now ! peals the trumpet of doom ! VI. Never or now ! roars the hoarse-throated cannon Through the black canopy blotting the skies ; Never or now ! flaps the shell-blasted pennon O'er the deep ooze where the Cumberland lies ! From the foul dens where our brothers are dying, Aliens and foes in the land of their birth, From the dank swamps where our martyrs are lying, Pleading in vain for a handful of earth. SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. 159 VIII. From the hot plains where they perish unnumbered, Furrowed and ridged with the battle-field's plow, Comes the loud summons : too long you have slumbered, Hear the last angel-trump, — "Never or Now 1" EXERCISE CXXY. FUSS AT FIRES* J. Smith. Let a company of boys be seated on the stage, and the speaker direct his address to them. 1. It having been announced to me, my young friends, that you were about forming a fire-company, I have called you to- gether to give you such directions as long experience in a first- quality engine company qualifies me to communicate. 2. The moment you hear an alarm of fire, scream like a pair of panthers. Run any way, except the right way ; for the far- thest way round is the nearest way to the fire. If you happen to run on the top of a wood-pile, so much the better ; you can then get a good view of the neighborhood. If a light breaks on your view, " break" for it immediately ; but be sure you don't jump into a bow window. Keep yelling all the time y and, if you can't make night hideous enough yourself, kick all the dogs you come across, and set them yelling, too. A brace of cats, dragged up-stairs by the tail, would be a " powerful auxiliary." 3. When you reach the scene of the fire, do all you can to convert it into a scene of destruction. Tear down all the fences in the vicinity. If it be a chimney on fire, throw salt down it ; or, if you can't do that, perhaps the best plan would be to jerk off the pump-handle and. pound it down. DonH forget to yell, all the while, as it will have a prodigious effect in fright- ening off the fire. The louder the better, of course ; and the 160 SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. more ladies in the vicinity, the greater necessity for " doing it brown." 4. Should the roof begin to smoke, get to work in good ear- nest, and make any man " smoke" that interrupts you. If it is summer, and there are fruit-trees in the lot, cut them down, to prevent the fire from roasting the apples. Don't forget to yell! Should the stable be threatened, carry out the cow-chains. Never mind the horse, — he'll be alive and kicking ; and if his legs don't do their duty, let them pay for the roast. Ditto as to the hogs, — let them save their own bacon, or smoke for it. 5. When the roof begins to burn, get a crow-bar and pry away the stone steps ; or, if the steps be of wood, procure an ax and chop them up. Next, cut away the wash-boards in the basement story ; and, if that don't stop the flames, let the chair- boards on the first floor share a similar fate. Should the " de- vouring element" still pursue the " even tenor of its way," you had better ascend to the second story. Pitch out the pitchers, and tumble out all the tumblers. Yell all the time. 6. If you find a baby abed, fling it into the second story win- dow of the house across the way ; but let the kitten carefully down in a work-basket. Then draw out the bureau-drawers, and empty their contents out of the back window ; telling somebody below to upset the slop-barrel and rain-water hogshead at the same time. Of course, you will attend to the mirror. The far- ther it can be thrown, the more pieces will be made. If any body objects, smash it over his head. *7. Do not, under any circumstances, drop the tongs down from the second story : the fall might break its legs, and render the poor thing a cripple for life. Set it straddle of your shoulders, and carry it down carefully. Pile the bed-clothes carefully on the floor, and throw the crockery out of the window. By the time you will have attended to all these things, the fire will cer- tainly be arrested, or the building be burnt down. In either case, your services will be no longer needed; and, of course, you require no further directions, except, at all times, to keep up a yell. SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER, 161 EXERCISE CXXVI. SAN FRANCISCO* 1. City full of people In a business flurry; Everybody's motto, Hurry ! hurry ! hurry ! Every nook and corner Filled to overflowing ; Like a locomotivej Everybody going ! J. Smith. 2. Everybody active ; Fogy ism dead ; All are "young Americans,"' Bound to " go ahead I" Dry or rainy season, Cloudy day or sunny, Citizens all driving Bargains to make money ! 3. Englishmen and French, Germans, Dutch, and Danish, Chattering Chinese, Portuguese and Spanish, — Men of every nation, Birds of every feather, Honest men and rogues, Hustled up together. N 4. Heavy wholesale merchant Hurries on so fast, Evidently thinks Every hour his last ; 162 SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER Dapper little Frenchman Makes a running bow; Calculating Yankee Can not stop just neow. 5. City of the West, Built up in a minute, Hurry and excitement Moving all within it; Like steam locomotives, Citizens all going ; City in a hurry, Filled to overflowing. EXERCISE CXXVII. "SHINNING"* IN THE STREET. 1. Rushing round the corners, Chasing every friend, Plunging into banks, Nothing there to lend, — Piteously begging Of every man you meet, — Bless me ! this is pleasant, "Shinning" on the street. 2. Merchants very short, Running neck and neck, "Want to keep a-going, — Praying for a check ; * This term is very generally applied to individuals who are obliged to borrow money to meet immediate and pressing demands. SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. 163 Dabblers iii stocks, Blue as blue can be, Evidently wishing They were " fancy free." 3. All our splendid railroads Got such dreadful knocks, Many of the Bulls* Couldn't raise their stocks ; Twenty thousand Bears,* In the trouble sharing, Now begin to feel They've been over-Bearing. 4. Risky speculators Tumbling with the shock; Never mind stopping More than any clock ; Still they give big dinners, Smoke, and drink, and sup, Going all the better For a winding up. A 5. Banking institutions, Companies of " trust," With other people's money, Go off on a bust; Houses of long standing Crumbling in a night, — With so many "smashes," No wonder money's tight. 6. Gentlemen of means Having lots to spend, * Bulls and Bears are terms usually applied to Brokers and Stockjobbers in New York city. 164 SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. Save a little sympathy, Nothing have to lend; Gentlemen in want, Willing to pay double, Find they can borrow Nothing now but trouble. 7. Half our men of business Wanting an extension, While nearly all the others Contemplate suspension ; Many of them, though, Don't appear to dread it; Every cent they owe Is so much to their credit. 8. Brokers are all breaking, Credit all is cracked, Women all expanding As the banks contract. Panic still increasing, — Where will the trouble end, While all hands want to borrow, And nobody can lend? 9. Eunning round the corners, Trying every source, Asking at the banks,— Nothing there, of course ; Money getting tighter, Misery complete, — Bless me ! this is pleasant "Shinning" on the street. SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. 165 EXERCISE CXXVIII. CURIOSITY, Four boys — "William, Louis, James, and Henry. Louis. Oh, William ! I've found something, and you can't guess what it is ! William. What is it? [Turning to James!\^., James, Louis has found something. James. What is it? Let me see, won't you? Louis. No ; I shan't let any body see it till they guess what it is. \He holds his hand close.~\ William. Is it money ? James. Is it a knife ? Louis. Guess on, and I'll bow my head when you're right. William. Tell us the first letter ! James. Yes ; it is not fair to keep us waiting so. Louis. Oh ! it belongs to me ; I needn't tell any one unless I choose to. William. Then, James, we won't play with him, will we? James. No ; and we won't show him any thing we get. Father's going to buy me something to-morrow — it's my birthday. William. What is it, James ? Let me see it — won't you ? James. Yes ; but Louis shan't, if he don't tell me what he's found. Louis. Oh ! I don't believe it will be much ! William. I guess it will ; for his father is able to buy him a great deal, — is he not, James ? James. Yes ; it will be worth, — I shan't say how much. Louis. 'Cause you don't know. It will not be worth much, I'll venture. William. It will, too ; come, Louis, let us see it. James. Poll ! I don't believe he has any thing. Louis. I have, too ! Just see how large my hand is ! I can't hardly shut it. 166 SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. James. Let's get it away from him, William ; will you ? Louis. I should like to see you try. I can master both of you. James. Oh, William ! I've found something too ! [Snatches something from the ground^ Look here ! Louis. I don't believe it. James. I have — haven't I, William? William. Yes, indeed ; I wouldn't exchange. James. Nor T, either. Louis. Let us see it. William. Poh ! I wouldn't waste my breath. James. Well, you will not see it; come, William, let's go home. William. Yes, I will show my new — [Louis comes up to lis- ten] — new — you need not listen, Louis ; I shan't tell. You need not follow us ; you wiirnot know. [Enter Henry.] Henry. What is the matter, boys ? I thought you were the best friends in the world. William. And so we were ; but Louis has found something, and won't tell us what it is. Louis. I told them to guess, and they wouldn't. James. We could not ; but I have found something, and he shan't see it. Henry. How foolish, boys, to get angry at such trifles ! Noth- ing you have, even though it is gold, can be of more value than your friendship for each other. William. Louis began it ! — he ought to have shown us what he'd found. Louis. Well ! you began to get mad right off, before I had a chance to tell. James. Oh, Louis, what a story ! Henry. See, now, what a great fire a little spark kindleth. Louis, if you had shown what you had found, you would have saved this trouble. Louis. James has found something, too, and would not let me SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. 16 7 see it ; and he says lie's going to have a birthday present to- morrow ; but I shan't be any the wiser. And William's got something new at home ; but / don't care. Henry. Now, boys, listen to me. You have all done wrong. Come, Louis, you was the first trespasser • show what you found. [Louis hesitates.] Come ! Louis. Oh, it isn't much ! I only wanted to see what they'd say. Henry. You wanted to excite their curiosity, and exercise a little superiority. Well, boys, I wouldn't care to know what it is. If it was a prize, he'd show it quick enough. Louis. Ask James what he's got ; if he'll show, / will ; and what has William got at home ? Henry. Come, James, open your hand. James. Poh ! it's only a stick ! Louis. And mine is only a cent ! William. And I've a kitten at home ! Henry. Now, boys, see how foolish your quarrel. Here you were, all by the ears, almost ready to fight — for what ? — a stick, a cent , a kitten! Just think of it! weeks would have passed, and you would not have spoken to each other. And so with many quarrels, that begin in trifles, and end only in bloodshed and the prison. Beware, boys, of such tempers ! Louis. Oh, I didn't mean any thing ! I just wanted to teaze them a little, to see if they were good Yankees at guessing ! Who couldn't have guessed a cent ? James. And who couldn't have guessed a stick ? William. And who couldn't have thought of a kitten ? Henry. That's enough. Now, be frank with each other ; tell your good luck, and take a joke as a joke, and not make a serious affair of it. William. Oh, we don't care for it now ! — do we, James ? James. No ; come, Louis, we won't think any thing more about it, will we ? Louis. No ; I didn't mean any thing. Henry. I'm glad to see you ready to forgive, and we can all go home happy now. Come. [All go off.~\ 168 SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. EXERCISE CXXIX. MOVING DAY, Moving" day very generally takes place on the 1st of May in the city of New York. The following is a very graphic description of the confusion and disasters attendant on moving. 1. First of May ! clear the way ! Baskets, barrows, trundles ; Take good care, mind the ware, — Betty, where's the bundles ? 2. Pots and kettles, broken victuals, Feather beds, plaster heads, Spoons and ladles, babies' cradles, Cups and saucers, salts and castors ; Hurry skurry, grave or gay, All must trudge the first of May. 3. Now we start, mind the cart, Shovels, bed-clothes, bedding ; On we go, soft and slow, Like a beggar's wedding. 4. Jointed stools, domestic tools, Chairs unbacked, tables cracked, Gridiron black, spit and jack, Trammel hooks, musty books, Old potatoes, 'frigerators, Hurry skurry, grave or gay, All must trudge the first of May. 5. Now we've got to the spot, Bellows, bureau, settee ; Ropes untie, mind your eye, Do be careful, Betty ! SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. 6. Look ! what's there ? Broken ware,- Bottles smashed, china crashed, Pickles spoiled, carpet soiled, Bureau scratched, knobs detached, Empty casks, broken flasks : Do be careful as you pass, — There it goes — the looking-glass ! 1. Such a clashing, such a smashing, Ripping, splitting, pulling, hitting, Going, throwing, calling, bawling, Babies crying, women flying ; Hurry skurry, grave or gay, All must trudge the first of May. 169 EXERCISE CXXX. THE YANKEE PEDAGOGUE* 1. A few years since, as the facts will explain, A Yankee Pedagogue in the State of Maine, Went out a-hunting near Moosehead Lake, Where he some small game hoped to take. He soon came near a hunter's noose, Designed to ensnare a deer or moose : How this was done, I'll tell you now, — He bended down a sapling low, Then, with a cord tied to the same, He made a snare for larger game. c. w. s. 2. Our Pedagogue, as will be seen, Was rather verdant, — that is, green • And so resolved for himself to see The cause that bended thus the tree ; 8 170 SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. His foot he placed within the snare, When, quick as thought, he's in the air, Full fifteen feet. In wild despair, He shrieks for help ; but no one's near His piteous moans and gi-oans to hear; And there he hung till the hunter came To see if he had caught his game ; "When, lo ! instead of a deer or moose, He found he'd caught a silly goose. He's soon released from his perilous hight, And quickly tt vamoosed" out of sight ; Resolved to turn to his old pursuit, And " teach young ideas how to shoot." EXERCISE CXXXI. THE BEASTS WITHIN US* Leighton. 1. What, you will say, have I beasts within me' ? Yes N ; you have beasts, and a vast number of them. And that you may not think I intend to insult you, is anger an inconsiderable beast, when it barks in your heart' ? What is deceit, when it lies hid in a cunning mind ; is it not a fox' ? Is not the man who is furiously bent upon calumny, a scorpion' ? Is not the person who is eagerly set on resentment and revenge, a most venomous viper' ? What do you say of a covetous man ? is he not a rav- enous wolf ? 2. And is not the luxurious man, as the prophet expresses it, a neighing horse' ? Nay; there is no wild beast but is found within us. And do you consider yourself as lord and prince of the wild beasts, because you command those that are without, though you never think of subduing or setting bounds to those that are within you'? What advantage have you by 'your rea- son, which enables you to overcome lions, if, after all, you your- self are overcome by anger s ? SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. 171 3. To what purpose do you rule over the birds, and catch them with gins, if you, yourself, with the inconstancy of a bird, are hurried hither and thither, and sometimes flying high, are ensnared by pride, sometimes brought down and caught by pleasure ? But, as it is shameful for him who rules over nations to be a slave at home, will it not be, in like manner, disgraceful for you, who exercise dominion over the beasts that are without you, to be subject to a great many, and those of the worse sort, that roar and domineer in your distempered mind' ? EXERCISE CXXXII. HONOR, Shakspeake. 1. Es cutch' eon, shield, or coat-of-arms. Can honor set a leg' ? No\ Or an arm' ? No\ Or take the grief of a wound' ? No\ Honor hath no skill in surgery, then v ? No\ What is honor T ? A word\ What is that word, honor v ? Air\ A trim reckoning^. Who hath it x ? He that died o' Wednesday'. Doth he feel it' ? No\ Doth he hear it' ? No\ It is insensible, then N ? Yea, to the dead\ But will it not live with the living'? No\ Why r ? Detraction will not suffer it r ; therefore, I'll none of it\ Honor is a mere escutcheon^ ; 2 and so ends my catechism\ EXERCISE CXXXIII. POLISH WAR S0NG> James G. Peecival. 1. Freedom calls you ! (") Quick, be ready ! Rouse ye in the name of God ! (<) Onward! onward! strong and steady, Dash to earth the oppressor's rod ! Freedom calls ! ye brave ! Rise, and spurn the name of slave. 172 SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. 2. Grasp the sword ! — its edge is keen, Seize the gun ! — its ball is true ; Sweep your land from tyrant clean, — Haste, and scour it through and through. Onward ! onward ! Freedom cries ! Rush to arms, — the tyrant flies. 3. By the souls of patriots gone, Wake ! — arise ! — your fetters break ; Koskiusco* bids you on, — Sobieski cries awake ! Rise, and front the despot czar, — Rise, and dare the unequal war. 4. Freedom calls you ! (") Quick, be ready ! Think of what your sires have been ! (<) Onward ! onward ! strong and steady, Drive the tyrant to his den ! On, and let the watchwords be, Country, Home, and Liberty ! EXERCISE CXXXIV THE ONSET, B. W. Proctor. 1. Sound an alarum ! The foe is come ! I hear the tramp, the neigh, the hum, The cry, and the blow of his daring drum : Huzza ! Sound ! The blast of our trumpet blown Shall carry dismay into hearts of stone. What ! shall we shake at a foe unknown' ? Huzza ! huzza ! * Kos ki us' co and So bi es' ki, two Polish patriots. SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. 173 Have we not sinews as strong as they ? Have we not hearts that ne'er gave way ? Have we not God on our side to-day ? Huzza ! Look ! they are staggered on yon black heath : Steady awhile, and hold your breath ! Now is your time, men ! Down, like death ! Huzza ! huzza ! Stand by each other, and frout on your foes ! Fight, while a drop of red blood flows ! Fight, as ye fought for the old Red Rose I* Huzza ! Sound ! Bid your terrible trumpet bray ! Blow, till their brazen throats give way ! Sound to the battle ! Sound, I say ! Huzza ! huzza ! EXERCISE CXXXV. 1. In stan' ter, immediately ; instantly. 2. Yin ai GREtte', a bottle or box, used like a smelling-bottle, for holding aromatic vinegar. 3. Pa- tri" cian, noble ; not plebeian. ADVICE TO LADIES* Fanny Feen. 1. When the spirit moves you to amuse yourself with " shop- ping," be sure to ask the clerk for a thousand and one articles you have no intention of buying. Never mind about the trouble you make him ; that's part of the trade. Pull the fingers of the gloves you are examining quite out of shape ; inquire for some * Bed Rose refers to the wars between the houses of York and Lancas- ter, for the English throne. The Red Rose was the emblem of one party, and the White Rose of the other. 174 SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. nondescript color, or some scarce number, and, when it is found, " think you won't take any this morning ;" then keep him an hour hunting for your sun-shade, which you, at length, recollect you " left at home ;" and depart without having invested a soli- tary cent. 2. When you enter a crowded lecture-room, and a gentleman rises politely, — as American gentlemen always do, — and offers to give up his seat, — which he came an hour ago to secure for him- self, — take it, as a matter of course ; and don't trouble yourself to thank him, even with a nod of your head. As to feeling uneasy about accepting it, that is ridiculous ! because, if he don't fancy standing during the service, he is at liberty to go home ; it is a free country ! 3. When you enter the cars, and all the eligible places are occupied, select one to your mind ; then walk up to the gentle- man, who is gazing at the fine scenery through the open window, and ask him for it, with a queenly air, as if he would lose caste instanter, 1 did he hesitate to comply. Should any persons seat themselves near you, not exactly of " your stamp," gather up the folds of your dress cautiously, as if you were afraid of contagion, and apply a " vinaigrette" 2 to your patrician 3 nose ! 4. Should you receive an invitation to a concert, manage to accept it, — conditionally ; leaving a door to escape, should a more eligible offer present itself. 5. When solicited to sing at a party, decline until you have drawn around you the proper number of entreating swains; then yield gracefully, as if it were a great sacrifice of your timidity. 6. As to cultivating your minds, that is all waste powder ; you have better ammunition to attack the enemy ; and as to culti- vating your heart, there is no use in talking about a thing that is unfashionable ! So, always bear in mind, that all a pretty woman is sent into the world for, is to display the fashions as they come out ; waltz, flirt, dance, and play the mischief gen- erally. SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER EXERCISE CXXXVI. 175 1. I'ete, (fate,) feast ; entertain. 2. Dis tin' que, (des tang' gwa,) dis- tinguished ; genteel. 3. E car' te, (a car' to,) game at cards. WHY DON'T THE MEN PROPOSE? Bayly. 1. Why don't the men propose, mamma ? AVhy don't the men propose ? Each seems just coming to the point, And then away he goes ! It is no fault of yours, mamma, That every body knows ; You fete 1 the finest men in town, Yet, oh ! they won't propose! 2. I'm sure I've done my best, mamma, To make a proper match ; For coronets and eldest sons I'm ever on the watch. I've hopes when some distingue 2 beau A glance upon me throws ; But though he'll glance, and smile, and flirt, Alas ! he won't propose ! 3. I've tried to win by languishing, And dressing like a blue ; I've bought big books, and talked of them As if I'd read them through ! With hair cropped like a man, I've felt The heads of all the beaux ; But Spurzheim could not touch their hearts ; And, oh ! they won't propose ! 4. I threw aside the books, and thought That ignorance was bliss ; I felt convinced that men preferred A simple sort of Miss ; 176 SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. \Lisps^\ And tho I limped out naught beyond Plain " yetheth" or plain " noe/A," And wore a ^Aweet, unmeaning ^,mile, Yet, oh ! they won't propose. 5. Last night, at Lady Karnble's rout, I heard Sir Harry Gale Exclaim, " Now I propose again !" I started, turning pale ; I really thought my time was come, I blushed like any rose ; But, oh ! I found 'twas only at Ecarte* he'd propose. 6. And what is to be done, mamma ? Oh ! what is' to be done ? I really have no time to lose ; For I am thirty-one. At balls I am too often left Where spinsters sit in rows ; Why won't the men propose, mamma ? Why won't the men propose ? EXERCISE CXXXYII. WE'VE ALL OUR ANGEL SIDE. 1. The huge rough stories from out the mine, Unsightly and unfair, Have veins of purest metal hid Beneath the surface there. Few rocks so bare but to their hights Some tiny moss-plant clings ; And round the peaks so desolate, The sea-bird sits aud sings. SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. 177 Believe me, too, that rugged souls, Beneath their rudeness hide Much that is beautiful and good, — We've all our angel side. 2. In all there is an inner depth, A far-off secret way, "Where, through the windows of the soul, God sends his smiling ray. In every human heart there is A faithful, sounding chord That may be struck, unknown to us, By some sweet, loving word. The wayward will in man may try Its softer thoughts to hide, — Some unexpected tone reveals It has an angel side. 3. Despised, and lone, and trodden down, Dark with the shades of sin, Deciphering not those halo-lights Which God has lit within : Groping about in utmost night, Poor, poisoned souls they are, Who guess not what life's meaning is, Nor dream of Heaven afar. Oh, that some gentle hand of love Their stumbling steps would guide, And show them that, amidst it all, Life has its angel side ! 4. Brutal, and mean, and dark enough, God knows some natures are ; But He, compassionate comes near, And shall we stand afar? 8* 178 SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. Our cruise of oil will not grow less If shared with hearty hand ; For words of peace and looks of love Few natures can withstand. Love is the mighty conqueror, Love is the beauteous guide, Love, with her beaming eyes, can see We've all our angel side. EXERCISE CXXXVIII. A SHUFFLING WITNESS. Knickerbocker. The following dialogue shows the manner in which some witnesses avoid telling the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. Counsel. Sir, you say you attended the sale on the execution spoken of. Did you keep the minutes of that sale ? Witness. Don't know, sir, but I did ; don't recollect whether / kept the minutes, or the sheriff, or nobody. I think it was one of us. Counsel. Well, sir, will you tell me what articles were sold on that execution ? [Here witness hesitated, not wishing to go into particulars, until the patience of the counsel was exhausted^ Counsel. Did you on that occasion sell a thrashing-machine ? Witness. Yes ; I think we did. Counsel. I wish you to be positive. Are you sure of it ? Witness. Can't say that I am sure of it ; and when I come to think of it, I don't know as we did ; think we didn't. Counsel. Will you swear, then, that you did not sell one ? Witness. No, sir, don't think I would ; for I can't say whether we did or didn't. Counsel. Did you sell a horse-power ? Witness. Horse-power' ? Counsel. Yes ; a horse-power. SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. 179 Witness. Horse power ! Well, it seems to me we did ; and then it seems to me we didn't. I don't know, now, as I can rec- ollect whether I remember there was any horse-power there ; and if there wasn't any there, or whether we sold it or not : hut I don't think we did ; though it may be, perhaps, that we did, after all. It's some time ago, and I don't like to say, certainly. Counsel. Well, perhaps, you can tell me this : did you sell a fanning-mill ? Witness. Yes, sir ; we sold a fanning-mill. I guess I am sure of that. Counsel. Well, you swear to that, do you — that one thing ? — though I don't see it on the list. [Looking over a paper, ,] Witness. Why, I may be mistaken about it; perhaps I am. It may be it was somebody else's fanning-mill, at some other time, — not sure. Counsel. [To the Judge.~\ I should like to know, may it please the Court, what this witness does know, and what he is sure of. Witness. [To Counsel.] Well, sir, I know one thing that I am sure of; and that is, that on that sale we sold either a thrashing- machine, or a horse-power, or a fanning-mill, or one, or all, or neither of them ; but I don't know which. EXERCISE CXXXIX. THE PRESS, 1. God said, "Let there be light !" Grim darkness felt His might, And fled away ; Then startled seas and mountains cold Shone forth, all bright in blue and gold, And cried, " Tis day ! 'tis day 1" 2. " Hail, holy light !" exclaimed The thunderous cloud that flamed O'er daisies white ; Elliott. 180 SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. And lo ! the rose, in crimson dressed, Leaned sweetly on the lily's breast, And, blushing, murmured, " Light !" 3. Then was the skylark born ; Then rose the embattled corn ; Then floods of praise Flowed o'er the sunny hills of noon ; And then, in stillest night, the moon Poured forth her pensive rays. Lo, heaven's bright bow is glad ! Lo, trees and flowers, all clad In glory, bloom ! 4. And shall the mortal sons of God Be senseless as the trodden clod, And darker than the tomb' ? No r ; by the mind of man ! By the swart artisan ! By God, our Sire ! Our souls have holy light within ; And every form of grief and sin Shall see and feel its fire. 5. By earth, and hell, and heaven, The shroud of souls is riven ! Mind, mind alone Is light, and hope, and life, and power ! Earth's deepest night from this blest hour, The night of minds is gone ! 6. "The Press !" all lands shall sing; The Press, the Press we bring, All lands to bless: pallid Want ! Labor, stark ! Behold we bring the second ark ! The Press ! the Press ! the Press ! SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. 181 EXERCISE CXL. THE LITTLE ESSENCE PEDDLER* S. W. Sktot*. This may be spoken, with good effect, by a lad with a basket on his arm, containing vials. 1. Ladies, you can not do a kinder act than to lighten a poor boy's basket. I have been crying my essence since early dawn ; but I have not had worse luck since last New Year. 2. I did, at least, expect to sell this one bottle of Patriotism to-day ; for I am sure a few drops of it would act like a charm about this time. It is rather a scarce article, and nearly out of the market ; although there are many pretended wholesale deal- ers in the article. 3. This is compounded from extracts of the " Spirit of Seventy- six" the oil of the " Love of peace and good order" together with two other valuable extracts, viz., " Do justice to all men" and " Love your neighbor as yourself ." 4. But, ladies, here is the very article for you. See how it sparkles ! You may say of it, " How ruby bright !" This is the Essence of Matrimony — a very harmless and delightful compo- sition. Observe its crimson hue : that is produced by the ex- tract of modesty, with the tincture of blushes. This essence, also, contains a mixture of simplicity of manners and plain dealing, with a decoction from a single sprig of firmness. 5. There are several other precious ingredients in this essence, and among them is the spirit of meekness, gentleness, and forbear- ance, with some grains of economy, prudence, and industry. This essence is sometimes adulterated with an extract of bitter sweet. The genuine has on the seal a heart and an eye, with the word "fides" * This is the veritable essence, as you see, and is sweet- ened with the honey of reciprocal affection. 6. Here is an article of great value to the ladies. It is the * Faithfulness. 132 SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. essence of Beauty, distilled from the delicate and lovely plant, known as a meek and quiet spirit. I have been told by those who have long used it, that they are regardless of gray hairs and wrinkles, and seek no greater adornment for grace and beauty. 7. But I will also show the Art of pleasing, produced from an extract of the root of good will. Here is the essence of Prudence. It is distilled from the blossoms of the tree called " Think before you act? This is very cooling, and keeps off all fevers of fret- fulness and anger. A single drop, taken daily, strengthens the whole system. 8. This is the essence of Industry. It contains a decoction from a native plant called " Keep yourself busy" united with the oil of the flowers of contentment. These two, the essence of Pru- dence and the essence of Industry, are excellent articles to guard against the ills of life. Those who have made use of them say they operate admirably in preventing poverty, bad habits, dis- content, and many other evils. 9. But, now I think of it, I will read you my grandfather's recipe for the cure of a very common complaint, and one as old as the hills. [Puts his basket down, and feels in his pocket.'] Oh, dear ! bad luck all day. This morning I broke two vials of Meekness and Patience; but I thought I had mended the matter by taking a few drops of Prudence. [Still feeling in his pocket^ 10. AVell, I must have left it at home ; but I'll try to repeat it for your benefit. It is a cure for that terrible disease of the mouth, lying somewhere near the root of the tongue, called Scandal. I think the recipe is this : " Take of good nature, one ounce ; half an ounce of hold your tongue, a handful of the herb called mind your own business, and one ounce of charity for others. Simmer these together in the vessel of circumspection, and, when cool, it is fit for use." 11. The symptoms of this disease are easily detected. A violent itching of the tip of the tongue and roof of the mouth, with a slight uneasiness about the heart, especially when in com- pany, or near that species of untamable creatures called " Gos- sips? SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. 183 12. When this disease is coming on, the greatest precaution is necessary. A spoonful of the mixture should be taken imme- diately, and held in the mouth at least five minutes. It may seem almost suffocating at first, but the mouth must be kept firmly closed till all symptoms have disappeared. Should you fear a relapse, it would be well to carry a vial of this mixture with you constantly, and, on the slightest symptoms, to repeat the dose. 13. This disease is apt to break out in large assemblies; and, for your sakes, as well as the little essence boy's, I'll just step home and get a package or two. So, for the present, kind friends, good-by. EXERCISE CXLI. ICARUS; OR, THE PERIL, OF BORROWED PLUMES, J. G. Saxe. I. There lived and flourished long ago, in famous Athenstown, One Dcedalus, a carpenter of genius and renown ; ('Twas he who with an auger taught mechanics how to bore, — An art which the philosophers monopolized before.) His only son was Icarus, a most precocious lad, — The pride of Mrs. Daedalus, the image of his dad ; And while he yet was in his teens such progress he had made, He'd got above his father's size, and much above his trade. in. Now Dadalus, the carpenter, had made a pair of wings, Contrived of wood and feathers and a cunning set of springs, By means of which the wearer could ascend to any hight, And sail about among the clouds as easy as a kite ! 184 SANDERS' UN ION SPEAKER " Oh, father," said young Icarus, " how I should like to fly ! And go like you where all is blue along the upper sky ; How very charming it would be above the moon to climb, And scamper through the Zodiac, and have a high old time ! " Oh, wouldn't it be jolty, though, — to stop at all the inns ; To take a luncheon at ' The Crab,' and tipple at 'The Twins ;' And, just for fun and fancy, while careering through the air, To kiss the Virgin, tease the Bam, and bait the biggest Bear ? VI. " Oh, father, please to let me go !" was still the urchin's cry ; " I'll be extremely careful, sir, and won't go very high ; Oh, if this little pleasure-trip you only will allow, I promise to be back again in time to fetch the cow !" "You're rather young," said Dwdalus, " to tempt the upper air; But take the wings, and mind your eye with very special care ; And keep at least a thousand miles below the nearest star ; Young lads, when out upon a lark, are apt to go too far !" He took the wings — that foolish boy— without the least dismay, (His father stuck 'em on with wax,) and so he soared away ; "Up — up he rises, like a bird, and not a moment stops Until he's fairly out of sight beyond the mountain-tops ! And still he flies — away — away ; it seems the merest fun ; No marvel he is getting bold, and aiming at the sun ; No marvel he forgets his sire ; it isn't very odd That one so far above the earth should think himself a god ! SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. 185 X. Already, in his silly pride, he's gone too far aloft ; The heat begins to scorch his wings ; the wax is waxing soft;. Down — down he goes ! Alas ! next day poor Icarus was found Afloat upon the ^Egean sea, extremely damp and drowned ! XI. The moral of this mournful tale is plain enough to all : — Don't get above your proper sphere, or you may chance to fall ; Remember, too, that borrowed plumes are most uncertain things ; And never try to scale the sky with other people's wings ! EXERCISE CXLII. BEAUTIES OF NATURE* c. w. s. 1. Pause awhile, ye disconsolate tenants of earth ! Raise your bowed heads and look upward ! Behold the vast panorama which Nature has spread out for your study and contemplation ! If you look at the blue, concave heavens over your head, on a clear night, you will behold it bedecked with myriads upon myriads of sparkling gems, outvying in beauty the most resplen- dent coronet that ever adorned the head of any earthly potentate. 2. "The heavens declare the glory of God, and the firmament showeth His handiwork." If these are glorious, what must be the glory of Him who created them ! What a magnificent tem- ple for the worship of that Almighty Being, who spread abroad the heavens as a curtain, " and laid the foundations of the earth !" 3. Look abroad over the earth ! What a prospect is spread out before you ! What an endless variety of configuration, — hill and valley, mountain and plain, rivers, lakes, seas, cataracts, — is presented to your enraptured view ! If you look over the 186 SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. illimitable ocean, and behold its heavings, its turbulence, and ceaseless agitations, the mind is overwhelmed with awe and admiration at " the works of the Lord, and His w r onders in the deep !" 4. Look at the earth in the various changes of the seasons ! Now, it reposes, for awhile, in the icy embrace of winter ; now, it is decorated with the verdure and flowers of spring ; now, it smiles in the luxuriance of summer ; anon, it is laden with tha rich bounties of autumn — affording sustenance for every living creature. " These, as they change, Almighty Father, these Are but the varied God ! The rolling year Is full of Thee!" 5. Look up, ye despairing children of earth, to that kind and beneficent Father, whose watchful care is ever over you, and whose wisdom, power, and goodness challenge your admiration, gratitude, and love. EXERCISE CXLIII. CATS VEBSUS RATS* 1. "The rascally rats ! the rascally rats ! Oh, for the use of a legion of cats ! Cats to keep watch all over the house, Where'er there's room for the head of a mouse ! Rats in the parlor, rats in the hall, Rats in the garret, rats in the wall, Rats in the cellar, the closets, the trunks, Rats in the kitchen that carry off hunks Of solid provisions, — such monstrous chunks ! You'd think the fellows were laying up store To last them a couple of years, or more ! J. N. M. SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. iq7 The vagabond race ! So thievish and base ! Infesting the sewers, the gutters, and docks, And laughing to scorn your fastenings and locks, — Utterly reckless of persons and places, Where do they not show their impudent faces ? Gnaw your fur hat, Coat, or cravat ; Souse into milk, or butter, or fat ; Seize upon cake, and run off with that ; Dance all around like an ape in a vat, And gulp down any thing they can get at ; Oh, for the sting of a bee or a gnat, Any thing — any thing else but that Horrible creature ycleped* a rat !" Thus madly raves And misbehaves, A neighbor of mine, in idle wrath, Whene'er a rat comes o'er his path ; While praise he lavishes and without measure, Over a cat, as a wonderful treasure. But what's a cat Without a rat, On which to pounce, Just like an ounce ? In fact, the cat and the ounce are the same : Differing but little except in the name ; For science is able distinctly to trace, In both, the marks of the feline race. But the cat, I say, Without her prey, Would be in the way ; For only to hunt the rats you house her : What would she be, if she wasn't a mouser ? * Called ; named. 188 SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. Little you'd prize her ; You'd rather despise her. " Despise her ?" My friend, I pray you attend : What if she didn't catch rats and mice ? Isn't she gentle, and calm, and nice ? Isn't she full of the prettiest sport? Don't even children her company court ? Isn't she one of the warmest of friends, A blessing the best that Heaven e'er sends ? 3. Ah, little you know, As facts will show, The character you are praising so ! Why, sir, her very name declares The nature of the look she wears ; For cat means sly, or cunning, or shrewd,— A prominent trait in all the brood ; Constituting the genus that Underlies the species cat. " She's such a friend /" — Kind Heaven defend Both me and mine From friends feline ! But she's so wonderful calm and nice ! Yes ; calm and cold as a lump of ice. Let any one give her offense in the house, She'll seize upon him as quick as a mouse ; Let Want invade your humble abode, Your cat's the first to take the road That leads to places where Plenty smiles, And cats can practice their native wiles. She loves not you, but what you give her ; And, being the freest kind of liver, What you don't give, she's sure to steal ; Nor does she the least repugnance feel To butcher your bird, if she wants a meal, SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. Though many a cheerful, soothing note She has daily heard from his tuneful throat, Which might have forbidden the fell design, And softened a nature even feline. 4. Her gentle plays ! Her winning ways ! Charming the children wherever she stays ! " Her gentle plays /" — why, do what you will, The creature continues savage still ; Ready with animals wild to resort, And cruel, in fact, in her very sport : Grasping a mouse that comes in her way, And finding pleasure in torturing her prey ; Keeping the wretch Quite on the stretch, By a fiendish prolongation of strife, In a hopeless effort to save its life. This is your very agreeable cat, So perfectly gentle, mild, and all that I ISuch beautiful fur ! Such agreeable pur ! And so very nice To throttle the mice ! And throttle the children, too, if you please, If they but meddle at all with her ease ; Jump right up in your company's lap ; Scratch their hands, if they give her a tap ; Thrust her whiskers full into their faces ; Soil or rend their satins and laces ; Get on the fence, and creep over boards Surmounted with spikes as sharps as swords ; Gather together, and bawl away In such a horrid, unearthly way, As to rouse the neighbors at dead of night, With cries like children screaming for fright ; 190 SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. Commit every nuisance under the sun, And yet be praised because of that one Horrible service, horribly done, Namely, the darting out suddenly at, And tearing to pieces a poor little rat ! 5. But, he's a thief, You say ; — in brief, Of all the pilfering tribe the chief; And, doubtless, there is a ground for belief, That he does sometimes assume to himself Things lying around on the table or shelf; But, then, to appeal to a cat for relief, Is to act on the principle, — " Thief catch thief;' And find, after all, in arts to deceive, In base proclivity ever to thieve, The cat is as far ahead of the rat, (Say what you please to the contrary of that,) As a hare is ahead of a snail in running, Or Hood is ahead of the world in punning. 6. Poor, luckless rat ! How often that Malice, which no relenting knows, Alone inspires the murderous blows Aimed at thy poor, devoted head, While seeking merely meat and bread! How can he an honest living provide, Thus hunted and hunted on every side ? Just give him a chance In the world to advance, And soon a figure much finer than that Which you admire so much in the cat, He'll make in the world ; — why, some even say He's not without taste in a musical way, SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. 191 Or feeling, at least ; for he lias been So deeply moved by the violin, (Not by a blow on the head, I mean,) As to die outright of joy alone, Under the sway of a musical tone ! While that dull pur Which you, dear sir, Admire in her, Is little short of a musical slur / That is, a slur on music, not in it, Which a Goth couldn't stand the tenth of a minute. But I say no more ; The case is before My auditors here, And perfectly clear ; So clear, at least, as to convince me that I've done the best I could for the rat ; And now, in conclusion, permit me to say What I think, on the whole, I safely may, — Whatever failings the rat may betray, Or virtues superior the cat may display, He's ahead of her always, at least, in one way, That is, when she's after him, running away ! EXERCISE CXLIV. PHYSIOGNOMY* Frank. It appears strange to me that people can be so im- posed upon. There is no difficulty in judging folks by their looks. I profess to know as much of a man, at the first view, as by half a dozen years' acquaintance. Henry. Pray, how is that done ? I would like to learn such an art. 192 SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. Frank. Did you never read Lavater on Physiognomy ? Henry. No. What do you mean by such a hard word ? Frank. Physiognomy means a knowledge of men's hearts, thoughts, and characters, by their looks. For instance, if you see a man with a forehead jutting over his eyes like a piazza, with a pair of heavy eyebrows, like the cornice of a house, with full eyes, and a Roman nose, — depend upon it, he is a great scholar, and an honest man. Henry. It seems to me I should rather go below bis nose, to discover bis scholarship. Frank. By no means ; if you look for beauty you may descend to the mouth and chin ; otherwise, never go below the region of the brain. [Enter George.] George. Well, I have been to see the man hanged ; and he has gone to the other world, with just such a great forehead, and Roman nose, as you have always been praising. Frank. Remember, George, all signs fail in dry weather. George. Now, be honest, Frank, and own that there is nothing in all this science of yours. The only way to know men is by their actions. If a man commits burglary, think you a Roman nose ought to save him from punishment ? Frank. I don't carry my notions so far as that ; but it is cer- tain that all the faces in the world are different ; and equally true that each has some marks about it, by which one can discover the temper and character of the person. [Enter Peter.] Peter. [To Frank.] Sir, I have heard of your fame from Dan to Beersheba. I am informed that you can know a man by his face, and can tell his thoughts by his looks. Hearing this, I have visited you, without the ceremony of an introduction. Frank. Why, indeed, I profess something in that way. Peter. By that forehead, nose, and those eyes of yours, one might be sure of an acute, penetrating mind. Frank. I see that you are not ignorant of physiognomy. SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. 193 Peter. I am not; but still I am so far from being an adept in the art, that, unless the features are very remarkable, I can not determine with certainty. But yours is the most striking face I ever saw ; there is a certain firmness in the lines which lead from the outer verge to the center of the apple of your eye, which denotes great forecast, deep thought, bright invention, and a genius for great purposes. Frank. You are a perfect master of the art; and to show you that I know something of it, permit me to observe that the form of your face denotes frankness, truth, and honesty. Your heart is a stranger to guile, your lips to deceit, and your hands to fraud. Peter. I must confess that you have hit upon my true charac- ter, though a different one from what I have sustained in the view of the world. Frank. [To Henry and George?^ Now, see two strong exam- ples of the truth of physiognomy. [ While he is saying this, Peter takes out his pocket-book, and makes off with it.'] Now, can you conceive that, without this knowledge, I could fathom the character of a total stranger ? Henry. Pray, tell us by what marks you discovered that in his heart and lips was no guile, and in his hands, no fraud \ Frank. Ay, leave that to me ; we are not to reveal our secrets. But I will show you a face and character that exactly suit him. [Feels for his pocket-book in both pockets — looks wild and con- cerned.] George. [Tauntingly.'] Ay, " in his heart is no guile, in his lips, no deceit, and in his hands, no fraud ! Now we see a strong- example of the power of physiognomy !" Frank. He is a wretch ! a traitor against every good sign ! I'll pursue him to the ends of the earth. [Sta,rts to go.] Henry. Stop a moment ; his fine, honest face is far enough before this time. You have not yet discovered the worst injury he has done you. Frank. What's that ? I had no watch or money for him to steal. 9 194 SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. Henry. By his deceitful lips, lie has robbed you of any just conception of yourself ; he has betrayed you into a foolish belief that you are possessed of most extraordinary genius and talents ; whereas, separate from the idle whim about physiognomy, you have no more pretense to genius or learning than a common school-boy. Learn, henceforth, to estimate men's hands by their deeds, their lips by their words, and their hearts by their lives. EXERCISE CXLV. 1. Dl AG no' sis, the discriminating knowledge of any thing, especially of disease. 2. Prog no' sis, the art of foretelling the course and event of a disease by its symptoms. LOVE AND PHYSIC. 1. A clever man was Doctor Digg, Misfortunes well he bore ; He never lost his patience, till He had no patients more. And though his practice once was large, It did not swell his gains ; The pains he labored for, were but The labor for his pains. 2. To marry seemed the only way To ease his mind of trouble ; Misfortunes never singly come, And misery makes them double. He had a patient rich and fair, That hearts by scores was breaking ; And, as he once had felt her wrist, He thought her hand of taking. SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. 195 3. And so lie called ; — his beating heart With anxious fears was swelling ; He, half in habit, took her hand, And on her tongue was dwelling. But thrice, though he essayed to speak, He stopped, and stuck, and blundered ; For, say, what mortal could be cool, Whose pulse was most a hundred ? 4. " Madam," at last, he faltered out — His love had grown courageous — " I have discovered a new complaint I hope will prove contagious ; And when the symptoms I relate, And show its diagnosis, 1 Oh, let me hope from those dear lips, Some favorable prognosis ! 2 5. " This done," he cries, " let's try those ties Which none but death can sever ; Since ' like cures like,' I do infer That love cures love forever." He paused — she blushed— however strange It seems on first perusal, Although there was no promise made, She gave him a refusal. 6. Perhaps you think, 'twixt love and rage, He took some deadly potion ; Or, with his lancet oped a vein, To ease his pulse's motion. To guess the vent of his despair, The wisest one might miss it : He reached his office, — then and there — He charged her for the visit. 196 SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER, EXERCISE CXLVI, THE CONFESSION, Blackwood's Magazine. For the sake of variety, and in order to render the surprise more com- plete, this piece should be read in a suppressed, tremulous tone of voice, expressive of grief or sorrow, except the last two lines, which should bo uttered in a full tone of voice. 1. {pi.) There's somewhat on my breast, father, There's somewhat on my breast ! The live-long day I sigh, father, At night I can not rest ; I can not take my rest, father, Though I would fain do so, A weary weight oppresseth me, — The weary weight of woe ! 2. 'Tis not the lack of gold, father, Nor lack of worldly gear ; My lands are broad and fair to see, My friends are kind and dear ; My kin are leal and true, father, They mourn to see my grief, But, oh ! 'tis not a kinsman's hand Can give my heart relief! 3. 'Tis not that Janet's false, father, 'Tis not that she's unkind ; Though busy flatterers swarm around, I know her constant mind. 'Tis not the coldness of her heart That chills my laboring breast, — (J°) Ifs that confounded cucumber I ate, and can't digest ! SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. 197 EXERCISE CXLVII. BOMBASTIC DESCRIPTION OF A MIDNIGHT MURDER* 1. (si.) 'Twas night ! the stars were shrouded in a vail of mist ; a clouded canopy o'erhung the world ; the vivid light- nings flashed and shook their fiery darts upon the earth ; the deep-toned thunder rolled along the vaulted sky; the elements were in wild commotion; the storm-spirit howled in the air; the winds whistled ; the hail-stones fell like leaden balls ; the huge undulations of the ocean dashed upon the rock-bound shore ; and torrents leaped from mountain-tops ; when the mur- derer sprang from his sleepless couch with vengeance on his brow, — murder in his heart, — and the fell instrument of destruc- tion in his hand. 2. (<) The storm increased ; the lightnings flashed with, brighter glare ; the thunder growled with deeper energy ; the winds whistled with a wilder fury ; the confusion of the hour was congenial to his soul, and the stormy passions which raged in his bosom. He clenched his weapon with a sterner grasp. A demoniac smile gathered on bis lip ; he grated his teeth ; raised his arm ; sprang with a yell of triumph upon his victim ; and relentlessly killed a Mtjsquito ! EXERCISE CXLVIII. THE CREOWNIN' GLORY OF THE UNITED STATES'N* Knickerbocker. 1. My Hearers, — My text ain't in Worcester's Pictorial, nor Webster's big quarto ; but it is in the columns of the Bunkum Flagstaff and Independent Echo, — " Edication is the Creownirt Glory of the Unitecfn States'n. 2. Thar ain't a feller in all this great and glorious Republic 198 SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. but lias studied readin', ritin' and 'rithmetic. Thar ain't a young- ster so big that you couldn't drown him in a wash-bowl, but what has read Shakspeare's gogerphy, and knows that all the world is a stage, with two poles, instead of one, like a common stage ; and that it keeps goin' reound and reound on its own axletree, not axin' nothin' o' nobody ; for, " Edication is the CreownirC Glory of the United 'n StatesW 3. Who was it that, durin' the great and glorious Revolution, by his eloquence, quenched the spirit of Toryism ? An American citizen ! Who was it that knocked thunder out of the clouds, and took a streak o' greased lightnin' for a tail to his kite ? An American citizen ! Who was it that invented the powder that will kill a cockroach, if you put a little on his tail, and then tread on it ? Who was it that discovered the Fat Boy, and captured the wild and ferocious " What Is It P An American citizen ! Oh, it's a smashin' big thing to be an American citizen ! King David would have been an American citizen, and the Queen of Sheba would have been naturalized, if it could a bin did ; for, " Edication is the Creownirf Glory of the United 'n States' 1 n. 4. When you and I shall be no more, — when this glorious Union shall have gone all to smash, — when Barnum shall have secured his last curiosity " at a great expense," — then will the historian dip his pen in a georgious bottle of blue-black ink, and write, — "Edication was the Creownin 1 Glory of the United' 'n States' n." EXERCISE CXLIX. FATHER LAND AND MOTHER TONGUE* LOVEE. 1. Our Father land ! and wouldst thou know Why we should call it Father land ? It is that Adam here below Was made of earth by Nature's hand ; SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. 199 And he, our father, made of earth, Hath peopled earth on every hand ; And we, in memory of his birth, Do call our country, " Father land." 2. At first, in Eden's bowers, they say No sound of speech had Adam caught, — But whistled like a bird all day, — ■ N^ And, may be, 'twas for want of thought : But Nature, with resistless laws, Made Adam soon surpass the birds ; She gave him lovely Eve — because, If he'd a wife — they must have words. 3. And so, the native land I hold, By male descent is proudly mine ; The language, as the tale hath told, Was given in the female line : And thus, we see, on either hand, We name our blessings whence they've sprung, We call our country, " Father land," We call our language, " Mother tongue." EXERCISE CL. N0RYA1.4 Greenhorn and Prompter. Arranged by S. C. Massett. Greenhorn. My name is Norval ; on the Grampian Hills My father feeds his flocks, a frugal swan — Prompter. Swain, you booby. Greenhorn. Swain, you booby, whose constant care was To increase his shop — Prompter. Store, sir. What are you doing ? 200 SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. Greenhorn. Store, sir, — what are you doing ? — and keep his only son, myself, at home ; For I had heard of battles, and I longed To follow to the field some warlike lord ; And Heaven soon granted what my sire desired — Prompter. Denied, you booby ! Greenhorn. Denied, you booby ! Yon moon which rose Last night, round as a cheese — Prompter. Shield, you stupid Jack ! Greenhorn. Shield, you stupid Jack! — had not yet taken a horn. Prompter. Filled her horn, you fool ! Greenhorn. Filled her horn, you fool ! — when, By its light, a band of fierce barbers — Prompter. Barbarians, you dunce ! Greenhorn. Barbarians, you dunce ! — rushed like a Torrent down upon the hills, Sweepin' our flocks and hers — Prompter. Herds, sir ; not hers. Greenhorn. Herds, sir, I said. I alone, with bended Bow, and quivering full of arrows — Prompter. Quiver, sir ! Greenhorn. Quiver, sir, I said, — hovered about the enemy, And marked with a lead-pencil — Prompter. Marked the road, you booby ! Greenhorn. Marked the road, you booby ! — he took ; Whom, with a troop of fifty chosen men, I met advancing. The pursuit we led, until we o'ertook the spoiled cucumbers — Prompter. Spoil-encumbered foe, you stupid goose ! Greenhorn. Spoil-encumbered foe, I meant, you stupid goose ! — and, having heard That our brave king had summoned his bold pears and apples — Prompter. Peers, you blockhead ! Greenhorn. Peers, you blockhead ! — to meet their warriors at the common — Prompter. Carron side! SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. 201 Greenhorn. Carron side ! — I left my father's house, And took with me a maid-servant — Prompter. A chosen servant , you fool ! Greenhorn. A chosen servant, you fool ! — to conduct my steps. Yon trembling cow — cow — cow — [Hesitates.'] Prompter. Coward, you ninny ! Greenhorn. Coward, you ninny ! — who forsook his master, Returning home in a chariot — Prompter. In triumph, sir ! Greenhorn. In triumph, sir ! — I disdained the shepherd's sloth- ful wife — Prompter. Life, sir ! Greenhorn. Life, sir! — and Heaven directed, came to — to — to — Prompter. Make a fool of yourself ) booby ! Greenhorn. Make a fool of yourself, booby, and do the happy deed which gilds my humble name ! EXERCISE CLI. LIVE FOR SOMETHING, Dr. Chalmers. 1. Thousands of men breathe, move, and live, pass off the stage of life, and are heard of no more. Why ? They did not partake of good in the world, and none were blessed by them ; none could point to them as the means of their redemption ; not a line they wrote, not a word they spoke could be recalled, and so they perished ; their light went out in darkness, and they were not remembered more than insects of yesterday. 2. Will you thus live and die, man immortal ! Live for something ! Do good, and leave behind you a monument of virtue, that the storms of time can never destroy. Write your name by kindness, love, and mercy on the hearts of thousands with whom you come in contact, year by year, and you will 9* 202 SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. never be forgotten. No ; your name, your deeds, will be as legible on the hearts you leave behind, as the stars on the brow of the evening. Good deeds will shine as brightly on the earth as the stars of heaven. EXERCISE CLI. THE BEST OF LIQUOR* Paul Dentow. Paul Denton, a Methodist preacher in Texas, advertised a barbecue, with better liquor than is usually furnished. When the people were assembled, a desperado in the crowd walked up to him, and cried out : " Mr. Denton, your reverence has lied. You promised not only a good barbecue, but better liquor. Where's the liquor?" "There!" answered the preacher, in tones of thunder, and pointing his motionless finger at a spring gushing up in two strong columns, with a sound like a shout of joy, from the bosom of the earth. 1. "There !" he repeated, with a look terrible as lightning, while his enemy actually trembled at his feet ; " there is the liquor which God, the Eternal, brews for all His children. Not in the simmering still, over smoky fires, choked with poisonous gases, surrounded with the stench of sickening odors and corrup- tions, doth your Father in heaven prepare the precious essence of life — pure cold water ; but in the green glade and grassy dell, where the red deer wanders, and the child loves to play, there God brews it ; and down, low down in the deepest valleys, where the fountain murmurs and the rills sing ; and high upon the mountain-tops, where the naked granite glitters like gold in the sun, where the storm-cloud broods and the thunder-storms crash ; and far out on the wide, wild sea, where the hurricane howls music, and the big wave rolls the chorus, sweeping the march of God, — there He brews it, that beverage of life — health-giving water. 2. " And everywhere it is a thing of life and beauty, — gleam- ing in the dew-drop ; singing in the summer rain ; shining in SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. 203 the ice-gem, till the trees all seemed turned to living jewels ; spreading a golden vail over the setting sun, or a white gauze around the midnight moon ; sporting in the glacier ; folding its bright snow-curtain softly about the wintery world ; and weaving the many-colored bow, that seraph's zone of the siren, — whose warp is the rain-drops of earth, whose woof is the sunbeam of heaven, all checked over with celestial flowers, by the mystic hand of refraction. 3. "Still always it is beautiful — that blessed life-water ! No poisonous bubbles are on its brink ; its foam brings not madness and murder j no blood stains its liquid glass ; pale widows and starving orphans weep not burning tears in its depths ; no drunk- ard's shrinking ghost, from the grave, curses it in the worlds of eternal despair ! ( 00 ) Speak out, my friends : would you ex- change it for the demon's drink, Alcohol' V [J. shout, like the roar of a tempest, answered, " No !"] EXERCISE CLIII. THE MADDENING BOWL* 1. Oh ! take the maddening bowl away, Remove the poisonous cup ! My soul is sick — its burning ray Hath drunk my spirit up : « ) Take — take it from my loathing lip, Ere madness fires my brain ; Take — take it hence, nor let me sip Its liquid death again ! 2. Oh ! dash it on the thirsty earth, . For I will drinl? no more ; It can not cheer the heart with mirth That grief hath wounded sore ; 204 SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. For serpents wreathe its sparkling brim, And adders lurk below ; It hath no soothing charm for him Who sinks oppressed with woe. 3. Then, hence ! away, thou deadly foe, — I scorn thy base control. (/.) Away, away ! I fear thy blow, Thou palsy of the soul ! Henceforth I drink no more of thee, Thou bane of Adam's race ; But to a heavenly Fountain flee, And drink the dews of grace. EXERCISE CLIV. THE BIRTH OF GREEN ERIN* 1. With all condescinshin, I'd turn your attinshin, To what I would minshin on Erin so green : And, without hisitayshin, I'd show how that nayshin Became, in creayshin, the gim an' the queen. 2. It happined wan marnin', Without iny warnin', That Vaynus was born in the beautiful say ; An' by that same tokin, (An' shoor, 'twas provokin,) Her pinions were soakin', and wouldn't giv play. 3. So Niptune, who knew her, Began to purshue her, In ordher to woo her, the wicked ould Jew ! SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. An' he very nigh caught her Atop iv the wather, Great Jupither's daughther, who cried, " Pooa-loo /" 4. But Jove, the great jainyous, Looked down an' saw Vaynus, An' Niptune so haynious purshuin' her woild ; So he roared out in thundher, He'd tare him asundher, An' shoor 'twas no wondher, for tazing his choild. 5. So a sthar that was flyin' Around him, espyin', He sazed without sighin', and hurled it below, Where it tumbled loike winkin', While Niptune was sinkin', And gave him, I'm thinkin', the brath iv a blow ! 6. An' that sthar was dhryland, Both lowland and highland, An' formed a swate island, the land iv me birth ! Thus plain is me shtory, 'Kase sint down from glory, That Erin so hoary 's a heaven upon earth ! 7. Thin Vaynus jumped nately On Erin so shtately ; But faynted, 'kase lately so bothered and prissed ; Which her much did bewildher ; But ere it had killed her, Her fayther dishtilled her a dhrop iv the bisht 8. An' that glass so victorious, It made her feel glorious, A little uproarious, I fear it might prove ; Hince, how can yez blame us That Erin's so faymous For beauty, and murther, and whishkey, and love ! 205 206 SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. EXERCISE CLV. THE NATIONAL BANNER. Edward Everett. 1. All hail to our glorious ensign ! courage to the heart, and strength to the hand, to which, in all time, it shall be intrusted ! May it ever wave in honor, in unsullied glory, and patriotic hope, on the dome of the capitol, on the country's stronghold, on the entented plain, on the wave-rocked topmast ! 2. AVherever, on the earth's surface, the eye of the American shall behold it, may he have reason to bless it ! On whatsoever spot it is planted, there may freedom have a foothold, humanity a brave champion, and religion an altar ! Though stained with blood in a righteous cause, may it never, in any cause, be stained with shame ! 3. Alike, when its gorgeous folds shall wanton in lazy holiday triumphs oa the summer breeze, and its tattered fragments be dimly seen through the clouds of war, may it be the joy and pride of the American heart! First raised in the cause of right and liberty, in that cause alone may it forever spread out its streaming blazonry to the battle and the storm! Having been borne victoriously across the continent and on every sea, may virtue, and freedom, and peace forever follow where it leads the way ! EXERCISE CLVI. THE PEOPLE ALWAYS CONQUER* Edward Everett. 1. The people always conquer. They always must conquer. Armies may be defeated, kings may be overthrown, and new dynasties imposed, by foreign arms, on an ignorant and slavish race, that care not in what language the covenant of their sub- jection runs, nor in whose name the deed of their barter and sale is made out. But the people never invade. When they SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. 207 rise against the invader, they are never subdued. If they are driven from the plains, they fly to the mountains. Steep rocks and everlasting hills are their castles ; the tangled, pathless thicket, their palisado ; and Nature, God, is their ally ! 2. Now, he overwhelms the hosts of their enemies beneath His drifting mountains of sand. Now, He buries them beneath a falling atmosphere of polar snows. He lets loose His tempests on their fleets. He puts a folly into their counsels, a madness into the hearts of their leaders. He never gave, and never will give, a final triumph over a virtuous and gallant people, resolved to be free. " For Freedom's battle once begun, Bequeathed from bleeding sire to son, Though baffled oft, is ever won." EXERCISE CLVII. 1. Sat ur na' li a, festival ; season of great license or excess. THE UNION. Mrs. Sarah T. Bolton. " The Union" — it must and shall be preserved." 1. Dissolve the Union' ! — let the blush of shame Hide, with its crimson glow, the brazen cheek Of him who dares avow the traitorous aim. "lis not the true, the wise, the good, who speak Words of such fearful import ; but the weak, Drunk with fanaticism's poisonous wine, And, reckless of the future, madly seek To hold their saturnalia 1 at the shrine That noble souls have held, and still must hold, divine! 2. Dissolve the Union' ! — madmen, would ye rend The glorious motto from our country's crest' ? (<) Would ye despoil the stars and stripes, that lend Home, food, protection to the world's oppressed' ? 208 SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. Have ye no reverence for the high bequest That our immortal sires bestowed erewhile' ? Has sin defaced the image God impressed On your humanity, that ye could smile To see the lurid flames of Freedom's funeral pile'? 3. Dissolve the Union' ! — never v ! Ye may sow The seeds of vile dissension o'er the land, That men may reap in sorrow ; ye may show The world your disregard of all its grand, Eternal interests ; but a noble band Of patriots, tried and true, will still remain, With heart to heart, and sinewy hand to hand, To guard, from foul dishonor's cankering stain, The jewels God has shrined in Freedom's holy fane ! 4. Dissolve the Union' ! — no n ; destroy the page That gives to human sight the hideous scrawl ; Let not the freemen of a future age Read these detested words ; they would recall Shame, madness, imbecility, and all That mars the noon-tide glory of our time. True to the undivided, stand or fall ; To waver now is little less than crime, — To battle for the right is glorious, is sublime ! EXERCISE CLVIII. THE OLD ARM-CHAIR THAT ROCKS SO EASY* 1. Let others sing the "good green-wood," And laughing lips so pretty ; Or paint, — if such should be their mood, — A pair of eyes so jetty : Mine is a theme I hope will please ye, — An Old Arm-chair that rocks so easy. SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. 209 2. Well stuffed and cushioned o'er and o'er, It always looks inviting ; 'Twas never known to be a bore, Nor guilty of backbiting : The very thing when one is lazy, — That Old Arm-chair that rocks so " aisy." 3. 'Tis like an old, familiar friend We love to meet full often ; Whose love and kindness always blend The cares of life to soften : 'Twill neither vex, nor scold, nor tease ye, The Old Arm-chair that rocks so easy. 4. Just look at Grandmamma, with " specs" A handsome silk-purse knitting ; "I guess," when finished, she'll annex The metal that is fitting : Then knit away — (I will not quiz ye, Old Grandmamma) — and take it easy. 5. They talk of epicurean bliss, And Frenchmen " cutting capers ;" Give me a motion such as this, And then — the " morning papers :" Come, draw it where 'tis cool and breezy, — The Old Arm-chair that rocks so easy. 6. 'Tis pleasant, at the close of day, In easy posture lying, To rock, and dream one's soul away, Like saints indulged in dying : Thus let me go, when death shall seize me, — My Old Arm-chair, — 'twill be so easy. 210 SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. EXERCISE CLIX. LEGAL EXAMINATION* Question. Have you ever attended any Law Lectures ? Answer. I have attended to many legal lectures, where I have been admonished by police magistrates for kicking up rows in the streets, pulling off handles of door-bells, knockers, &c. COMMON LAW. Ques. What is a real action ? Ans. An action brought in earnest, and not by way of joke. Ques. What are original writs ? Ans. Pot-hooks, hangers, and trammels. EQUITY AND CONVEYANCE. Ques. What are a bill and answer ? Ans. Ask my tailor. Ques. How would you file a bill ? Ans. I think I would lay the case before a blacksmith. Ques. What steps would you take to dissolve an injunction ? Ans. I would put it into some very hot water, and let it remain there until it melted. CRIMINAL LAW AND BANKRUPTCY. Ques. What is Simple Larceny ? Ans. Picking a pocket of a handkerchief, and leaving a purse full of money. Ques. What is Grand Larceny ? Ans. Stealing a young lady's heart, and then eloping with her. Ques. How would you proceed to make a bankrupt ? Ans. Induce him to take one of the theaters. Ques. How is the property of a bankrupt disposed of? Ans. The solicitors and other legal functionaries divide it among themselves. Ques. What are Remedies? Ans. Brandreth's Pills, and Mrs. Winslow's Soothing Sirup. SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. 211 EXERCISE CLX. THE JUSTICE AND THE PRISONER* Justice. Well, sir, why are you here ? Prisoner. Because I couldn't get away from the officers. Justice. Why did they bring you here ? Prisoner. That's just what / want to know. Justice. Have you ever been condemned ? Prisoner. Yes, sir. Justice. State under what circumstances. Prisoner. When I was twelve years old I had an inflammation of the lungs, and was condemned by three doctors. Justice. You don't understand me. I ask whether you have ever been proceeded against ? Prisoner. Yes, sir. Justice. Tell the particulars. Prisoner. Willingly. One day, when walking up the First Avenue, I was proceeded against by a savage bull. Justice-. That is no answer to my question. What the Court wishes to know is, whether you have been arrested ? Prisoner. I have nothing to conceal, and hence I answer in the affirmative. Justice. Oh, you do, eh ? When was it ? Prisoner. Last year. Justice. For what ? Prisoner. For being in the way, I suppose. The 599th Regiment was coming up Broadway, and the crowd was so great that my course was arrested for half an hour. Lawyer. Will you never understand ? His honor wishes you to state whether you have ever been taken up ? Prisoner. Oh, yes ! Last winter, Uncle Joshua took me up to the Central Park to see the skating. Justice. Were you ever in a station-house? Prisoner. Yes, sir ; I have been in most all the station-houses on the Camden and Amboy Railroad. 212 SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. Lawyer. In one word, have you ever been in the Tombs ? Prisoner. Wall, I can't say I've been exactly in 'em ; but I've been pretty well among 'em. Aunt Jerusha and me was to Greenivood nearly all day, a week ago. Justice. Well, you can go again ; and I hope you and your aunt may have a good time together. Prisoner. Thank'ee, Judge ; that's right. Good-by. EXERCISE CLXI. THE NIGHT A F T E R CHRISTMAS, The following is an amusing parody upon Clement Moore's unequaled " Night before Christmas." 1. 'Twas the night after Christmas, when, all through the house, Every soul was abed, and as still as a mouse ; The stockings, so lately St. Nicholas' care, Were emptied of all that was eatable there. The darlings had duly been tucked in their beds, With very full stomachs, and pains in their heads. 2. I was dozing away in my new cotton cap, And Nancy was rather far gone in a nap, When out in the nursery arose such a clatter, I sprang from my sleep, crying, — " What is the matter ?" I flew to each bedside — still half in a doze — Tore open the curtains, and threw off the clothes; While the light of the taper served clearly to show The piteous plight of those objects below; For what to the fond father's eyes should appear But the little pale face of each sick little dear ! For each pet that had crammed itself full as a tick, I knew in a moment now felt like Old Nick. SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER 213 Their pulses were rapid, their breathings the same , What their stomachs rejected I'll mention by name- Now Turkey, now Stuffing, Plum Pudding, of course, And Custards, and Crullers, and Cranberry sauce ; Before outraged nature, all went to the wall, Yes — Lollypops, Flapdoddle, Dinner, and all ; Like pellets which urchins from pop-guns let fly, Went figs, nuts, and raisins, jam, jelly, and pie, Till each error of diet was brought to my view, To the shame of Mamma and Santa Claus too. 4. I turned from the sight, to my bedroom stepped back, And brought out a vial marked, " Pulv. Ipecac," When my Nancy exclaimed — for their sufferings shocked her-~ "Don't you think you had better, love, run for the doctor?" I ran — and was scarcely back under my roof, When I heard the sharp clatter of old Jalap's hoof. I might say that I hardly had turned myself round, When the doctor came into the room with a bound. He inspected their tongues in despite of their teeth, And, drawing his watch from his waistcoat beneath, He felt of each pulse, saying, — "Each little chick Must get rid of the stuff that has made him so sick." 5. I gazed on each chubby, plump, sick little elf, And groaned when he said so, in spite of myself; But a wink of his eye, when he physicked our Fred, Soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread. He didn't prescribe, but went straightway to work And dosed all the rest, — gave his trowsers a jerk, And, adding directions, while blowing his nose, He buttoned his coat, — from his chair he arose, Then jumped in his gig, gave old Jalap a whistle, And Jalap dashed off as if spurred by a thistle ; But the doctor exclaimed, ere he drove out of sight, " They'll be well by to-morrow — good-night, Jones, good-nignt !" 214 SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. EXERCISE CLXII. LIBERTY AND INDEP END ENCE*- July 4th, me. "When the Declaration of Independence was adopted by Congress, the event was announced by ringing the old State- House bell, which bore the inscription, "Proclaim liberty throughout the land, to all the inhabitants thereof!" The old bellman stationed his little grandson at the door of the hall, to await the instruction of the door-keeper when to ring. At the word, the little young patriot rushed out, and, clapping his hands, shouted,— "Ring! Ring! RING!" 1. There was a tumult in the city,* In the quaint old Quaker's town, And the streets were rife with people Pacing restless up and down, — People gathering at corners, Where they whispered each to each, And the sweat stood on their temples, "With the earnestness of speech. 2. As the bleak Atlantic currents Lash the wild Newfoundland shore, So they beat against the State-House, So they surged against the door ; And the mingling of their voices Made a harmony profound, Till the quiet street of Chestnut "Was all turbulent with sound. 3. " Will they do it ?" " Dare they do it ?" " Who is speaking ?" " W^hat's the news ?" " What of Adams ?" " What of Sherman ?" " Oh, God grant they won't refuse !" * Philadelphia. SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. 215 " Make some way there !" " Let me nearer ! " I am stifling !" " Stifle, then ! When a nation's life's at hazard, "We've no time to think of men !" 4. So they beat against the portal, Man and woman, maid and child ; And the July sun in heaven On the scene looked down and smiled, — - The same sun that saw the Spartan Shed his patriot-blood in vain, Now beheld the soul of freedom, All unconquered, rise again. 5. See ! See ! The dense crowd quivers Through all its lengthy line, As the boy beside the portal Looks forth to give the sign ! With his little hands up-lifted, Breezes dallying with his hair, Hark ! with deep, clear intonation, Breaks his young voice on the air : 6. Hushed the people' swelling murmur, List the boy's exultant cry ! " Ring /" he shouts ; " Ring ! Grandpa, (°°) Ring ! Oh, Ring for Liberty !" Quickly at the given signal The old bellman lifts his hand, Forth he sends the good news, making Iron-music through the land. 7. How they shouted ! What rejoicing ! How the old bell shook the air, Till the clang of freedom ruffled The calmly gliding Delaware I 216 SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. How the bonfires and the torches Lighted up the night's repose, And, from the flames, like fabled Phoenix, Our glorious Liberty arose ! 8. That old State-House bell is silent, Hushed is now its clam'rous tongue ; But the spirit it awakened Still is living, — ever young ; And when we greet the smiling sunlight On the fourth of each July, We will ne'er forget the bellman Who, betwixt the earth and sky, Rung out, loudly, " Independence ;" Which, please God, shall never die! EXERCISE CLXIII. SECESSION* Webster. 1. The honorable member declares that he shall now march off, under the banner of State rights ! March off from whom ? March off from what ? We have been contending for great principles. We have been struggling to maintain the liberty and to restore the prosperity of the country. We have made these struggles here, in the national councils, with the old flag, the true American flag, the Eagle, and the Stars and Stripes waving over the chamber in which we sit. He now tells us, however, that he marches off under the State-rights' banner ! 2. Let him go. / remain. I am, where I ever have been, and ever mean to be. Here, standing on the platform of the general Constitution, — a platform broad enough, and firm enough, to uphold every interest of the whole country, — I shall still be found. Intrusted with some part in the administration of that Constitution, I intend to act in its spirit, and in the spirit of SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. 217 those who framed it. I would act as if our fathers, who formed it for us, and who bequeathed it to us, were looking on me ; as if I could see their venerable forms bending down to behold us from the abodes above ! I would act, too, as if the eye of poster- ity was gazing on me. 3. Standing thus, as in the full gaze of our ancestors and our posterity, having received this inheritance from the former to be transmitted to the latter, and feeling that, if I am born for any- good, in my day and generation, it is for the good of the whole country ; no local policy, no local feeling, no temporary impulse, shall induce me to yield my foothold on the Constitution and the Union. I move off under no banner not known to the whole American people, and to their constitution and laws. No, sir! these walls, these columns "Shall fly From their firm base, as soon as I." EXERCISE CLXIV. A PATRIOTIC APPEAL- D. S. Dickinson. 1. The rights of person, and every right we hold most dear, are involved in this issue. You can never divide this nation peaceably. You can never find a stopping-place, when once you have rewarded treason, by permitting it to succeed. Owls will hoot from your dwellings ; foxes look out of the windows of your churches ; ruin, darkness, and desolation will brood over you. Such assemblies as this will be prevented by hostile troops, under the anarchy which will ride rough-shod over you. 2. Where are the great spirits, — the Clays, the Websters, the Bentons of the nation ? They have been wafted away like the prophets of old. " My father, my father, the chariots of Israel and horsemen thereof!" Would to Heaven that we had the voice of a Clay, of a Webster, to cheer us on now ! How they would drive Secession to its hiding-place. Henry Clay would 218 SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. make it cower and tremble like a deer at the wolf's howl. And the majestic Webster — what dark clouds would rest upon his portentous brow ! And the logical and the statistical Benton, who always stood up for the Union, with his sarcasm and logic, would make it wither like mown grass, {pi) They are gone. They rest from their labors. They saw our country's glory, but not her shame. Peace be to their ashes. 3. No; our Ship of State, although she has been arrested in her successful course, let us all rally around her, not inquiring who is in command, whether it be Lincoln or Jackson, Repub- lican or Democrat, who are the crew ; but, seeing it is our ship, under our flag, preserve it, whether it be called by the one or the other empty name. Let us rally around her, let us go on board, let her be manned, weigh anchor, hoist all sail, cut her loose, let her steer into the broad ocean, to cruise on in this great errand of mercy — the freedom of mankind — carrying the Stars and Stripes to every sea under heaven — carrying peace and good-will to all men. Let her " Sail on into the seas, ship, Through wind and waves right onward steer." 4. Oh, my fellow-citizens, let us all devote ourselves to the service of our country ! Every one can do something in his sphere. For myself, I am enlisted for this great war — rage how it may — terminate how it will. Give me poverty, stripes, and chains, — give me shame, give me destitution, give me want, give me abject misery and distress, give me bereavement, let my heart be wrung by every emotion that can agonize and torture man, make me a wanderer in the earth, and give me an ignoble death, rather than permit my country to perish. Sooner than that should be done, in the language of Emmet, I would raze every house, barn every blade of grass, and the last intrenchment of Liberty shall be my grave. No, my fellow-citizens ; let our watchword be, — our country, our beloved country ! And I will exclaim with you, "Qh, my country^ may Qod protect her from evil/" 219 SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. EXERCISE CLXY. DON'T "GO IT ALONE/'- A Travesty. Anon. 1. There's a poem by Saxe, very witty, I own, The subject of which is — " Go it Alone" And the wisdom of which I am slow to deride, For I read it with pleasure and profit beside, And said to myself, it is just as you sing, Self-reliance, dear bard, is a glorious thing. 2. And never on others life's burdens I'll cast, But will bear them heroic and brave to the last ; And further, I moved, it is noble and grand, When the storm beats about us, unaided to stand ; As 'tis lovely the blessings of sunshine to share, And shelter the weak with protection and care. 3. But I own that my heart has grown fainter of late, For my dear Mr. Saxe, Fve been trying to skate ; I started forth bravely the ordeal to meet — In my head were your verses, and skates on my feet. But the rhyming so smooth, and the logic so nice, Had a different look when viewed from the ice. 4. The stand-point was changed, if stand-point it be, To go pitching about like a vessel at sea, And to find, half the time, for your struggles and pains, That your heels are at least as high as your brains : "Alone!" I exclaimed, " Oh! I never can go it, And this is what comes of trusting a poet." 5. No, no, Mr. Saxe, you may talk as you please ; Galileo, and Kepler, and worthies like these, All grandly heroic, defying the Fates, Could never have gone it alone upon skates. (Of course, I allude to the neophyte sage, No respecter of persons, of youth, or of age.) 220 SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. 6. For there matrons and maidens, with cheeks all aglow, As roses would look peeping out from the snow ; There seigneurs most potent, and followers of Mars, And cupids with trowsers, and men with cigars, Were striving to skate, and by each it was shown, That in learning this art you canH " go it alone." MORAL. 1. Now if, ladies, you'll pardon some feeling advice, Don't refuse willing hands and warm hearts — on the ice— Nor anywhere else ; for I say, and I know it, In spite of the rhymes of the Green Mountain poet, That you'll need in this world of sunshine and storm, An arm that is strong, and a heart that is warm. EXERCISE CLXYI. VIRTUE OF GREAT PRINCIPLES. Btkon. 1. We will not strike for private wrongs alone : Such are for selfish passions and rash men, But are unworthy a tyrannicide. We must forget all feelings save the one; We must resign all passions save our purpose ; We must behold no object save our country,— And only look on death as beautiful, So that the sacrifice ascend to Heaven, And draw down freedom on her evermore. 2. " But, if we fail ?" They never fail who die In a — "This brute,— he is a ruffian, a beggar! That patched jacket, that ragged cap, that rusty belt — shall barbarians such as he, close the pass against us, shower rocks on our heads, and single out our leaders with unfailing aim', — these groveling mountaineers, who know not the joys and brilliance of life, 248 SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. creeping amidst eternal snows, and snatching with greedy hand their stinted ear of corn' ? 3. Yet, poor as we are, we never envied our neighbors their smiling sun, their gilded palaces ; we never strayed from our peaceful huts to blast the happiness of those who had not injured us. The traveler who visited our valleys, met every hand outstretched to welcome him ; — for him every hearth blazed ; with delight we listened to his tale of distant lands. Too happy for ambition, we were not jealous of his wealth, — we have even refused to partake of it. 4. Frenchmen ! you have wives and children : when you return to your beautiful cities, amidst the roar of trumpets, the smiles of the lovely, and the multitudes shouting with triumph, they will ask, where have you roamed ? what have you achieved ? what have you brought back to us ? Those laughing babes who climb upon your knees, — will you have the heart to tell them, we have pierced the barren crags, we have entered the naked cottage to level it to the ground ; we found no treasures, but honest hearts, and those we have broken, because they throbbed with love for the wilderness around them' ? Clasp this old fire- lock in your little hands ; it was snatched from a peasant of Tyrol, who died in the vain effort to stem our torrent ! Seated by your firesides, will you boast to your generous and blooming wives, that you have extinguished the last ember which lightened our gloom' ? 5. Happy scenes! (pi.) I shall never see you more! In those cold and stern eyes, I read my fate. Think not that your sentence can be terrible to me! but I have sons, daughters, and a wife who has shared all my labors ; — she has shared, too, my little pleasures, — such pleasures as that humble roof can yield, — pleasures that you can not understand. 6. My little ones ! should you live to bask in the sunshine of manhood, (you are sporting by the brook that washes our door,) dream not of your father's doom ! Should you live to know it know, too, that the man who has served his God and country with all his heart, can smile at the musket leveled to pierce it. ■ SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. 249 What is death to me ? I have not reveled in pleasures wrung from innocence or want; rough and discolored as are these hands, they are pure. My death is nothing. Oh, that my coun- try could live! oh, that ten thousand such deaths could make her immortal ! 7. Do I despair, then' ? No ; we have rushed to the sacri- fice, and the offering has been vain for us; but our children shall burst these fetters ; the blood of virtue was never shed in vain. Freedom can never die ! I have heard that you killed your king once, because he enslaved you ; yet now, again, you crouch before a single man, who bids you trample on all who abjure his yoke, and shoots you if you have courage to disobey. Do you think that, when I am buried, there shall breathe no other Hofers' ? Dream you that, if, to-day, you prostrate Hofer in the dust, to-morrow Hofer is no more' ? 8. In the distance, I see the liberty which I shall not taste ; — behind, I look on my slaughtered countrymen, on my orphans, on my desolate fields ; but a star rises before my aching sight, which points to justice, and it shall come. For a moment only shall I sleep. Before the sun has sunk below yon mountains, I shall awake in a paradise which you, perhaps, may never reach. EXERCISE CLXXXV THE NOBLE SAILOR* Mrs. Sigouenkt. The occurrence here related, took place during a great fire which occurred in New York, December 16, 1835. 1 . It was a fearful night ; The strong flame fiercely sped From street to street, from spire to spire, And on their treasures fed. 11* 250 SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. 2. Hark ! 'tis a mother's cry, High o'er the tumult wild, As, rushing toward her flame-wrapped home, She shrieked, — " My child ! my child !" 3, A wanderer from the sea — A stranger — marked her woe ; And in his generous bosom woke The sympathetic glow. 4. (=) Swift up the burning stairs, With darting feet, he flew, While sable clouds of stifling smoke Concealed him from the view. 5. Fast fell the blazing beams Across his dangerous road, Till the fair chamber, where he groped, Like fiery oven glowed. 6. But what a pealing shout ! When from the wreck he came, And in his arms a smiling babe, Still toying with the flame. V. The mother's raptured tears Forth like a torrent sped ! Yet, ere the throng could learn his name, That noble tar had fled. 8. Not for the praise of man Did he this deed of love ; But on a bright, unfading page, 'Tis registered above ! SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. 251 EXERCISE CLXXXYI. GIVING AND UVING* 1. Forever the sun is pouring his gold On a hundred worlds that beg and borrow ; His warmth he squanders on summits cold, His wealth on the homes of want and sorrow. To withhold his largess of precious light Is to bury himself in eternal night : To give is to live. 2. The flower shines not for itself at all ; Its joy is the joy it freely diffuses ; Of beauty and balm it is prodigal, And it lives in the life it sweetly loses. No choice for the rose but glory or doom — To exhale or smother, to wither or bloom : To deny is to die. 3. The seas lend silvery rain to the land, The land its sapphire streams to the ocean : The heart sends blood to the brain of command r The brain to the heart its lightning motion ; And ever and ever we yield our breath, Till the mirror is dry and images death : To live is to give. 4. He is dead whose hand is not opened wide To help the need of a human brother ; He doubles the life of his life-long ride Who gives his fortunate place to another ; And a thousand million lives are his Who carries the world in his sympathies : To deny is to die. 252 SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. 5. Throw gold to the far-dispersing wave, And your ships sail home with tons of treasure ; Care not for comfort, all hardship brave, And evening and age shall sup with pleasure. Fling health to the sunshine, wind, and rain, And roses shall come to the cheek again : To give is to live. EXERCISE CLXXXVII. 1. Sans ceremonie, without ceremony. 2. Mange\ eaten. 3. Ecoutes dono ami, hear me, then, friend. 4. Regardez, mind. 5. Eh bien, well. THE FRENCHMAN AND THE RATS, A Frenchman once who was a merry wight, Passing to town from Dover in the night, Near the road-side an ale-house chanced to spy ; And, being rather tired as well as dry, Resolved to enter ; but first he took a peep, In hopes a supper he might get, and cheap. He enters : " Hallo ! Garcon, if you please, Bring me a leetle bread and cheese ! And hallo ! Garcon, a pot of porter, too !" he said, " Vich I shall take, and den myself to bed." 2. His supper done, some scraps of cheese were left, Which our poor Frenchman, thinking it no theft, Into his pocket put ; then slowly crept To wished -for bed ; but not a wink he slept ; For, on the floor some sacks of flour were laid, To which the rats a nightly visit paid. SAND.ERS' UNION SPEAKER. 253 3. Our hero now undressed, popped out the light, Put on his cap and bade the world good-night ; But first the breeches which contained the fare, Under his pillow he had placed with care. Sans ceremonie 1 soon the rats all ran, And on the flour-sacks greedily began ; At which they gorged themselves ; then, smelling round, Under the pillow soon the cheese they found ; And while at this they regaling sat, Their happy jaws disturbed the Frenchman's nap ; Who, half awake, cries out, — " Hallo ! hallo ! Yat is dat nibbel at my pillow so ? Ah ! 'tis one big huge rat ! Yat de diable is it he nibbel, nibbel at ?" 4. In vain our little hero sought repose ; Sometimes the vermin galloped o'er his nose ; And such the pranks they kept up all the night, That he, on end antipodes upright, Bawling aloud, called stoutly for a light. (/.) " Hallo ! Maison ! Garcon, I say ! Bring me the bill for vat I have to pay !" The bill was brought, and, to his great surprise, Ten shillings was the charge : he scarce believes his eyes ; . With eager haste he runs it o'er and o'er, And every time he viewed it, thought it more. " Yy, zounds and zounds !" he cries, " I sail no pay ; Yat ! charge ten shelangs for vat I have mange 2 ? Leetle sup of porter, dis vile bed, Yare all de rats do run about my head' ? 5. " Plague on those rats !" the landlord muttered out ; " I wish, upon my word, that I could make 'em scout : I'll pay him well that can." " Yat's dat you say ?" " I'll pay him well that can." " Attend to me, I pray : 254 SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. Vill you dis charge forego, vat I am at, If from your house I drive away de rat ?" " With all my heart," the jolly host replies. " Ecoutez done, ami ;" 3 the Frenchman cries. " First, den — regardez, 4 if you please, Bring to dis spot a leetle bread and cheese ; Eh bien ! 5 a pot of porter, too ; And den invite de rats to sup vid you. And after dat, — no matter dey be villing, — For vat dey eat, you charge dem just ten shelang I And I am sure, ven dey behold de score, Dey'll quit your house, and never come no more." EXERCISE CLXXXVIII. POPULAR APATHY* "Webster. 1. "Wealth is the object of our idolatry, and even liberty is worshiped in the form of property. Although this spirit, by stimulating industry, is unquestionably excellent in itself, yet it is to be apprehended that, in a period of peace and tranquillity, it will become too strong for patriotism, and produce the great- est of national evils, — popular apathy. 2. We have been frequently told that the farmer should at- tend to his plow, and the mechanic to his handicraft, during the canvass for the presidency. Sir, a more dangerous doctrine could not be inculcated. 3. If there is a spectacle, from the contemplation of which I would shrink with peculiar horror, it would be that of the great mass of the American people sunk into a profound apathy on the subject of their highest political interests. Such a spectacle would be more portentous to the eye of intelligent patriotism, than all the fiery signs of the heavens to the eye of trembling superstition. SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. 255 4. If the people could be indifferent to the fate of a contest for the presidency, they would be unworthy of freedom. If I were to perceive them sinking into this apathy, I would even apply the power of political galvanism, if such a power could be found, to raise them from their fatal lethargy. 5. Keep the people quiet ! Peace /—peace ! Such are the whispers by which the people are to be lulled to sleep in the very crisis of their highest concerns. Sir, " you make a solitude, and call it peace." Peace ? It is death ! Take away all inter- est from the people in the election of their chief ruler, and liberty is no more. 6. If the people do not elect the president, the mercenary intriguers and interested office-hunters of the country will. Make the people indifferent, and you throw a general paralysis over the body politic. Tell me not, sir, of popular violence. Show me a hundred political factionists, — men who look to the election of a president as the means of gratifying their high or their low ambition, — and I will show you the very materials for a mob, ready for any desperate adventure connected with their common fortunes. 7. There was a law at Athens which subjected all citizens to punishment who neglected to take sides in the political parties which divided the republic. It was founded in the deepest wis- dom. The ambitious few will inevitably acquire the ascendancy in the conduct of public affairs, if the patriotic many, the people, are not stimulated and aroused to a common activity and effort. 8. Sir, no nation on earth has ever exerted so extensive an influence on human affairs as this will certainly exercise, if we preserve our glorious system of government in its purity. The liberty of this country is a sacred depository, — a vestal fire, which Providence has committed to us for the general benefit of mankind. It is the world's last hope. Extinguish it, and the earth will be covered with eternal darkness. But once put out that fire, and I know not where is the Promethean heat which can that light relume. 256 SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. EXERCISE CLXXXIX. BARBARA FRIETCHIE* 1. Up from the meadows rich with corn, Clear in the cool September morn, The clustered spires of Frederick stand, Green-walled by the hills of Maryland. Round about them orchards sweep, Apple and peach-trees fruited deep, Fair as a garden of the Lord, To the eyes of the famished Rebel horde. 2. On that pleasant day of the early fall, When Lee marched over the mountain wall, — Over the mountains winding down, Horse and foot into Frederick town, Forty flags with the silvery stars, Forty flags with their crimson bars, Flapped in the morning wind ; the sun Of noon looked down and saw not one. 3. Up rose old Barbara Frietchie then, Bowed with her fourscore years and ten, Bravest of all in Frederick town, She took up the flag the men hauled down. In her attic window the staff she set, To show that one heart was loyal yet. Up the street came the Rebel tread, Stonewall Jackson riding ahead. 4. Under his slouched hat left and right He glanced ; the old flag met his sight. " Halt !"— the dust-brown ranks stood fast. « Fire !" — out blazed the rifle blast ; Whittieb. SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. 257 It shivered the window, pane, and sash, — It rent the banner with seam and gash. Quick, as it fell from the broken staff, Dame Barbara snatches the silken scarf; She leaned far out on the window-sill, She shook it forth with a loyal will. 5. "Shoot, if you must, this gray old head, But spare your country's flag," she said. A shade of sadness, a blush of shame, Over the face of the leader came ; The noble nature within him stirred To life at Barbara's deed and word : " Who touches a hair of yon gray head, Dies like a dog ! March on !" he said. 6. All day long through Frederick street, Sounded the tread of marching feet, — All day long that free flag tossed Over the heads of the Rebel host; Ever its torn folds rose and fell On the loyal winds that loved it well ; And, through the hill-gaps, sunset light Shone over it with a warm good-night. 1. Barbara Frietchie's work is o'er, And the Rebel rides on his raids no more ; Honor to her ! and let a tear Fall, for her sake, on Stonewall's bier. Over Barbara Frietchie's grave, Flag of Freedom and Union wave ! Peace and order and beauty draw Round thy symbol of light and law ; And ever the stars above look down On thy stars below at Frederick town. 258 SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. EXERCISE CXC. THE LOYAL MOTHER* 1. Away with all sighing ! away with all tears ! My boy shall behold, not my grief, but my pride ; Can I taint his young manhood with womanish fears, When the flag of his country is scorned and defied ? I will arm him, and bless him, and send him away, Though my heart break with grief, when he goes from my sight ; I will bid him not falter nor blanch in the fray, But fight to the death for the Truth and the Right. I must teach my brave lad what it is to be true To the Red and the White, and the stars in the Blue. 2. 'Tis to love the mild rule of the land of his birth ; To succor the weak in the thrall of the strong; To honor all manhood, to cherish all worth ; To further the right, and to baffle the wrong. As the nations throng onward towards Liberty's light, From the gloom of misrule — 'tis to march in the van ; With God as the leader, and Justice and Right Perfecting His purpose — ennobling the man. 'Tis a sign and a symbol : it is well to be true To a cause which is leagued with the Red, White, and Blue. 3. He's my all ! he's my treasure ! but take him, dear land, And add him, a jewel to Liberty's crown, — One hero the more to your patriot band, — The widow's last mite to the nation's renown. For I'll arm him, and bless him, and bid him go forth To take his proud stand in the front of the wars, And add his own blade to the swords of the North, Unsheathed for the triumph of Truth and the Laws, For his brave heart has learned what it means to be true To the Stripes and the Stars in the Union of blue. SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. 259 EXEECISE CXCI. BARTERING FOR A CANADIAN PONY* D. Q. Mitchell, Yankee. Mornin', Squire. Squire. Good morning. Yankee. Bin a looldn' at y'r hoss. Squire. Ah ! Yankee. Middlin' lump of a hoss. Squire. Yes ; a nice horse. Yankee. D'n know as you know it, but sich hosses a' n't so salable as they was a spell back. Squire. Ah ! Yankee. They're gittin' a fancy for bigger hosses. [Silence.) Yankee. Put that pony to a heavy cart, and he wouldn't do nothin'. Squire. You are mistaken ; he's a capital cart-horse. Yankee. Well, I don't say but what he'd be handy with a lightish load. Don't call him spavined, do ye ? Squire. No ; perfectly sound. Yankee. Don't kick, dooz he ? Squire. No. Yankee. Them little Kanucks is apt to kick. (Silence, and an impatient movement , which the Squire works off hy pulling out his watch.) Yankee. What time o' day's got to be ? Squire. Eleven. Yankee. Eleven ! I must be a goin' ; — should like to trade, Squire, but I guess we can't agree. I s'pose you'd be askin' as much as — sixty — or — seventy dollars for that are hoss ; wouldn't ye ? Squire. A hundred dollars is the price, and I gave fifty more. Yankee. Don't say ! Gave a great deal too much, Squire. Squire. Pat, you may put up the horse ; I don't think the gentleman wants him. Yankee. Look o' here, Squire ; ef you was to say — something 260 SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. — like — seventy, or — seventy-five dollars, now, — there might be some use in talkin'. Squire. Not one bit of use, {impatiently turning on his heel.) Yankee. Say, Squire, — ever had him to a plow ? Squire. Yes. Yankee. Work well ? Squire. Perfectly well. Yankee. Fractious any ? Them Kanucks is contrary critters when they've a mind to be. Squire. He is quite gentle. Yankee. That's a good p'int ; but them that's worked till they git quiet, kinder gits the spirit lost out on 'em — an't so brisk when you put 'em to a wagin. Don't you find it so, Squire ? Squire. Not at all. Yankee. How old, Squire, did ye say he was ? (looking in his mouth.) Squire. Seven. Yankee. Well — I guess he is ; a good many figgers nigher that, than he is to tew, any way. Squire. Patrick, you had better put this horse up. Yankee. Hold on, Squire. (And taking out his purse, he counts out — seventy — eighty — and a Jive — and two — and a fifty) — there, Squire, 'taint worth talking about ; I'll split the differ- ence with ye, and take the hoss. Squire. Patrick, put him up. (At which the customer is puzzled, hesitates, and the horse is entering the stable again, when he breaks out explosively) — Yankee. Well, Squire, here's your money ; but you're the most oneasy man for a dicker that I ever traded with — I'll say that for ye. (And the horse is transferred to his new keeper .) Yankee. S'pose ye throw in the halter and blanket, Squire, don't ye ? Squire. Give him the halter and blanket, Patrick. Yankee. And, Patrick, you 'ant nary old curry-comb you don't use, you could let me have ? SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. 261 Squire. Give him a curry-comb, Pat. Yankee. Squire, you're a clever man. Got most through y'r hay in' ? Squire. Nearly. Yankee. Well, I'm glad on't. Had kinder ketchin' weather tip our way. EXERCISE CXCII. THE THREE TAILORS* 1. Once on a time three tailors there were ; And a snail, in their fright, they mistook for a bear, And of him they had such a terrible sense, They hid themselves close behind a fence. 2. "Do you go first" the first one said ; The next one spoke, " Pm too much afraid /" The third he fain would speak also, And said, " He'll eat us all up, I know." 3. And now when together they all came out, They seized their weapons with a shout ; And as they marched to the strife so sad, They all began to feel rather bad. 4. But when on the foe they rushed outright, They each one grew choke-full of fight : " Come out here, come out, you ugly brute ! If you want to have a good stitch in your suit." 5. The snail stuck out his ears from within ; The tailors trembled, — "'Tis a dreadful thing/" And as the snail bis shell did move, The tailors threw down their weapons, forsooth ; And when the snail crept out of his shell, The tailors all ran away pell-mell ! J2 SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. EXERCISE CXCIII. THE AMERICAN FLAG* 1. (°) Fling out the nation's Stripes and Stars, — The glorious standard of the free, — The banner borne through Freedom's wars, The hallowed gem of liberty. On mountain top, in valley deep, Wherever dwell the free and brave, O'er graves where Freedom's martyrs sleep, Columbia's flag must freely wave. 2. Raise high the bright, auspicious flag, From every hight and lowly glen, In forest dell, on jutting crag, Afar among the haunts of men. The sparkling banner, widely flung, Shall proudly wave o'er land and sea; And Freedom's anthem, sweetly sung, Shall swell our country's jubilee. 3. Oh, let the world that flag behold, The emblem of the brave and free ; The brightest crown of streaming gold, That decks the goddess Liberty ! Spread out its folds till heaven's dome Reverberates the holy sound, That all oppressed have found a home On Freedom's consecrated ground ! 4. (<) Fling out our country's banner wide,— Our emblematic, starry gem,; Our country never shall divide, While floats that silken diadem ! SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER. 263 Year after year the brilliant stars Shall indicate the strength of all ; Let all beware of civil wars, That curse of monarchs — Freedom's fall. EXERCISE CXCIY. CLOSING ADDRESS. J. N. M. I'm commissioned, my friends, to bid you adieu, And cordially thank you for hearing us through. We are greatly obliged for the nattering way You've been pleased to receive our efforts to-day ; Though, we hear, it's been whispered around in the crowd, And, in fact, by some persons spoken aloud, That we've no occasion to feel very proud Of the attention you thought proper to pay To our endeavors ; for they tauntingly say, Among other things, that one pretty girl, Distinguished for hair in perpetual curl, Having bought her a fine new-fashioned bonnet, And priding herself a good deal upon it, Only came here that bonnet to show, Not caring a fig, if she heard us or no ; — That another was so taken up with a beau, A dandified fellow, but only so-so In the matter of brains, as a person might know, That his performance attracted her so, That ours appeared a very dull show ; That a mother at home left a baby quite small, Just to hear the fine speech of her darling more tall, And having heard him, could hear nothing more, The rest of us seeming to her quite a bore ; — 264 SANDERS' UNION SPEAKER That a certain old lady dozed all the time, And that certain young ladies, just in their prime, Were so much engaged in talking to others, Their cousins, perhaps, their uncles or brothers, That they heard not a word, nor cared they to hear, Except when they wanted to get up a cheer For a friend or a relative specially near ; — That, in truth, — I'm loth to believe it, good folks, — You were all of you talking and cracking your jokes ; Seeming to shun, by all possible means, Such spouters as we are, — boys in their teens, — Fellows that hardly know bullets from beans ! Now, we've made up our minds not to credit a word Of these idle aspersions which we have heard : So we bid you farewell ; being pleased with ourselves^ And, also, with you : while the envious elves Who are lacking the taste our talents to prize, And, therefore, disposed such things to surmise, We freely forgive ; stopping only to say, If truth they have spoken, as they possibly may, We hug the old maxim which comfort supplies,— "Where ignorance is bliss, His folly to be wise!'' 1 \ * * • I - ^ # * ^ **■ ^ V ^ V^ <&

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