POEMS HERE AT HOME ~3tctr oooks bi 3amrs Ul~itomm! ut~it?e NEIGHBORLY POEMS. SKETCHES IN PROSE AND OCCASIONAL VERSES. AFTERWHILES. PIPES O' PAN (Prose and Verse). RHYMES OF CHILDHOOD. FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT. OLD-FASHIONED ROSES (English Edition). GREEN FIELDS AND RUN NING BROOKS. l (".EE IA.1.) II I I -z POEMS AT HOME BY JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY PICTURES BY E. W. KEMBLE NEW YORK THE CENTURY CO. I893 HERE 4 I. I.::. ;s ~ . * Copyright, 1893, by :, JAIES WHITCOMIB RILEY. ' I; ~ All Rights Reserved. Copyright, 1883, 1887, 1888, 1889, 1890, 1891, 1892, 1893, by THE CENTURY CO. THE DE VINNE PRESS. TO MY FATHER PROEM Thle Poems here at Home! - Ufho'II write'em down, Jes' as they air-in Count'y and in Town? - Sowoed thick as clods is'crost the fields and lanles, Er tlhese-'ere little hop-toads when it rains![Vhlo' "voice"'eon? as I heerd a feller say 'At speechified on Freedom, t' other day, Anud soared thle Eagle tel, it'eared to me, Shle was n't bi,gger'n a bumble-bee! [Vlho'II sort'erm out and set'ema down, says A, 'At's got a stiddy hand enough to try To do'em jestice'thout a-foolin' some, And headin' facts off when they want to come.eWho's got the lovin' eye, and heart, and brain To recko'nize'at nothin's made ini vaii'At the Good Bein' made the bees and birds And brutes first choice, and us-folks afterwards? [Vhat We want, as I sense it, in the line O' poetry is somepin' Yours and AMineSoimeein' with live-stock iu it, and out-doors, And oMd crick-bottoms, snags, and sycamores: Pillt weeds in -.izenzvines, and uznderbresh, As well as johnnyjulmp-uzps, all so fresh And sassy-like! and grozun'-suzir'ls, -yes, and" We," As sayin' is,-" We, Us and Con.panyI!" 8 P:ltt in old Natuire's sermonts, - them's the best, - 4And'casion'ly hang up a hornets' nest 'At boys'at's run away from school can git At handy-like - and let'em tackle it/! Let us be wrought on, of a truth, to feel Our proneness fer to huzrt more than we heal, Ini ministratin' to or tz'ain delights Fergittiiz' even insec's has their rights! Vo "Ladies' Amaranth," ner "Treasury" bookVer "Night Thzoughts," nuther- ner no "Lally Rook"! We want some poetry'at's to Our taste, Made out o' truck'at's jes' a-goin' to waste 'Cause smart folks tlhinks it's altogether too Outrageous commoon -'cept fer me and you! Whzich goes to argy, all sich poetry Is'bliged to rest its hopes on You and Me. 9 CONTENTS PAGE 7 . 15 I6 I 8 2I 2. 3 30 . 32 38 . 40 * * * 44 PROEM... WHEN SHE COMES HO NOTHIN' TO SAY THE ABSENCE OF LITT THE USED-TO-BE. AT " THE LITERARY" ONE AFTERNOON. DOWN TO THE CAPITAL THE POET OF THE FUU THE OLD MIAN AND JIM THOUGHTS ON THE LA, THE OLD BAND. I . 46 COiVT~NZTS PAGE 50 58 6o . 63 66 *~.. 68 72 . 82 84 gI 92 . 98 ioo .. lO2 I17 . 120 ..1I23 . I24 I25 . i26 I28 . I30 "LAST CHRISTMAS WVAS A YEAR AGO " THE ALL-KIND MOTHER.. OUR HIRED GIRL.... THE RAGGEDY MAN... GOIN' TO THE FAIR.... GLADNESS..... FESSLER'S BEES..... A LIFE TERM..... "THE LITTLE MAN IN THE TINSHOP " FROM A BALLOON.... "TRADIN' JOE"..... UNCLE WILLIAMNI'S PICTURE.. THE FISHING-PARTY.... SQUIRE HAWVKINS'S STORY. DEAD SELTES....... IN SWIMMING-TIME. ~. ~ SONG OF THE BULLET... DEAD, MY LORDS.... HOME AGAIN..... A SEA-SONG FROM THE SHORE. A BOY'S MOTHER.... THE RUNAWAY BOY.. I 2 I3 PAGE , I33 * 34 I36 I38 I41 I44 I46 I48 I50 I5' I54 I. 56 x58 . I6o I62 I64 i67 .. i68 I7I * 73 * 75 * 77 THE SPOILED CHILD.. THE KIND OLD MAN.. THE BOY LIVES ON OUR FAR) THE DOODLE-BUGS'S CHARM. LITTLE COUSIN JASPER. GIVE ME THE BABY THE BEE-BAG... LITTLE MARJORIE... THE TRULY MIARVELOUS. 'MONGST THE HILLS O' SONIER OLD JOHN HENRY.. MY FIRST SPECTACLES.. SCOTTY.... MY WHITE BREAD.. BACK FROM.I TOWVN.. A MAN BY THE NAME OF BOL OLD CHUMS... WHAT A DEAD MAN SAID. CUORED O' SKEERIN.. YOUR VIOLIN..... To A SKULL... A VISION OF SUMMER.. CONTENTS CONTENTS PAGE I83 BEREAVED. A SONG OF THE CRU THE DEAD WIFE SOMEDAY CLOSE THE BOOK 14 . I84 I85 . I86 I87 WAHEN SHE COMES HOME AVHEN she comes home again! A thousand ways I fashion, to myself, the tenderness Of my glad welcome: I shall tremble-yes; And touch her, as when first in the old days I touched her girlish hand, nor dared upraise Mine eyes, such was my faint heart's sweet distress. Then silence: and the perfume of her dress: The room will sway a little, and a haze Cloy eyesight-soulsight, even- for a space; And tears -yes; and the ache here in the throat, To know that I so ill deserve the place Her arms make for me; and the sobbing note I stay with kisses, ere the tearful face Again is hidden in the old embrace. I5 NOTHIN' TO SAY NOTHIN' to say, my daughter! Nothin' at all to say! Gyrls that's in love, I've noticed, giner'ly has their way! Yer mother did, afore you, when her folks objected to meYit here I am and here you air! and yer mother - where is she? You look lots like yer mother: purty much same in size; And about the same complected; and favor about the eyes: Like her, too, about livin' here, because she could n't stay; It'11'most seem like you was dead like her!- but I hain't got nothin' to say! I6 VO THIN' TO SAY 17 She left you her little Bible -writ yer name acrost the page And left her ear-bobs fer you, ef ever you come of age; I've alluz kep''em and gyuarded'em, but ef yer goin' awayNothin' to say, my daughter! Nothin' at all to say! You don't rickollect her, I reckon? No; you was n't a year old then! And now yer - how old air you? W'y, child, not "tweznty"! When? And yer nex' birthday's in Aprile? and you want to git married that day? I wisht yer mother was livin'! - but I hain't got nothin' to say! Twenty year! and as good a gyrl as parent ever found! There's a straw ketched onto yer dress there- I'11 bresh it off- turn round. (Her mother was jest twenty when us two run away.) Nothin' to say, my daughter! Nothin' at all to say! THE ABSENCE OF LITTLE WESLEY SENCE little Wesley went, the place seems all so strange and stillW'y, I miss his yell o' "Gran'pap! " as I'd miss the whipperwill! And to think I ust to scold him fer his everlastin' noise, When I on'y rickollect him as the best o' little boys! I wisht a hunderd times a day'at he'd come trompin' in, And all the noise he ever made was twic't as loud ag'in!It'u'd seem like some soft music played on some fine insturment, 'Longside o' this loud lonesomeness, sence little Wesley went! I8 THE ABSENCE OF LITTLE WESLEY I9 Of course the clock don't tick no louder than it ust to doYit now they's times it'pears like it'u'd bu'st itse'f in two! And let a rooster, suddent-like, crow som'ers clos't around, And seems's ef, mighty nigh it, it'u'd lift me off the ground! And same with all the cattle when they bawl around the bars, In the red o' airly mornin', er the dusk and dew and stars, 'When the neighbers' boys'at passes never stop, but jes' go on, A-whistlin' kind o' to theirse'v's- sence little Wesley's gone! And then, o' nights, when Mother's settin' up on common late, A-bilin' pears er somepin', and I set and smoke and wait, Tel the moon out through the winder don't look bigger'n a dime, And things keeps gittin' stiller- stiller- stiller all the time, 20 THE ABSENCE OF LITTLE WESLEY I've ketched myse'f a-wishin' like -as I dclumb on the cheer To wind the clock, as I hev done fer more'n fifty year - A-wishin''at the time hed come fer us to go to bed, With our last prayers, and our last tears, sence little Wesley's dead! THE USED-TO-BE BEYOND the purple, hazy trees Of summer's utmost boundaries; Beyond the sands-beyond the seasBeyond the range of eyes like these, And only in the reach of the Enraptured gaze of Memory, There lies a land, long lost to me, The land of Used-to-be! A land enchanted-such as swung In golden seas when sirens clung Along their dripping brinks, and sung To Jason in that mystic tongue That dazed men with its melody O such a land, with such a sea Kissing its shores eternally, Is the fair Used-to-be. A land where music ever girds The air with belts of singing-birds, THE USED- TO-BE And sows all sounds with such sweet words, That even in the low of herds A meaning lives so sweet to me, Lost laughter ripples limpidly From lips brimmed over with the glee Of rare old Used-to-be. Lost laughter, and the whistled tunes Of boyhood's mouth of crescent runes, That rounded, through long afternoons, To serenading plenilunes When starlight fell so mistily That, peering up from bended knee, I dreamed't was bridal drapery Snowed over Used-to-be. O land of love and dreamy thoughts, And shining fields, and shady spots Of coolest, greenest grassy plots, Embossed with wild forget-me-nots! And all ye blooms that longingly Lift your fair faces up to me Out of the past, I kiss in ye The lips of Used-to-be. 2 2 AT "THE LITERARY" FOLKS in town, I reckon, thinks They git all the fun they air Runnin' loose'round! but,'y jinks! We' got fun, and fun to spare, Right out here amongst the ashAnd oak-timber ever'where! Some folks else kin cut a dash 'Sides town-people, don't fergit!'Specially in winter-time, When they's snow, and roads is fit. In them circumstances I'm Resig-nated to my lotWhich putts me in mind o' what 'S called "The Literary." 4 23 A T " THE LITERAR Y" Us folks in the country sees Lots o' fun!-Take spellin'-school; Er ole hoe-down jamborees; Er revivals; er ef you'11 Tackle taffy-pullin's you Kin git fun, and quite a few! Same with huskin's. But all these Kind o' frolics they hain't new By a hunderd year' er two, Cipher on it as you please! But I'11 tell you what I jest Think walks over all the rest Anyway it suits nAe best, That's "The Literary." First they started it-"'y gee!" Thinks-says-I, "this settle-ment 'S gittin' too high-toned fer me! " But when all begin to jine, And I heerd Izory went, I jest kind o' drapped in line, Like you've seen some sandy, thin, Scrawny shoat putt fer the crick Down some pig-trail through the thick 24 A4T "THE LITERAR Y" Spice-bresh, where the whole drove's been 'Bout six weeks'fore he gits in!"Can't tell nothin'," I-says-ee, "'Bout it tel you go and see Their blame'Literary'!" Very first night I was there I was'p'inted to be what They call "Critic "-so's a fair And square jedgment could be got On the pieces'at was read, And on the debate,-" Which air Most destructive element, 25 A4 T "THE LITERAER Y" Fire er worter?" Then they hed Compositions on "Content," "D eath," and "Botany "; and Tomps He read one on "Dreenin' swamps" I p'nounced the boss, and said, "So fur,'at's the best thing read In yer'Literary'!" 26 di T " THE LI TERA R Y " Then they slinig some- tel I called Order, and got back ag'in In the critic's cheer, and hauled All o' the p'formers in:Mandy Brizendine read one I fergit; and Doc's was "Thought "; 27 11g? X T THiE LITER4AR Y" And Sarepty's, hern was "None Air denied'at knocks;" and Daut Fayette Strawnse's little niece She got up and spoke a piece: Then Izory she read hern"Best thing in the whole concern," I-says-ee; "' now le''s adjourn This-here'Literary'!" They was some contendin'-yit We broke up in harmony Road outside as white as grit, And as slick as slick could be! I'd fetched'Zory in my sleigh,And I had a heap to say, 28 A T "THE LITERARY" Drivin' back- in fact, I driv 'Way around the old north way, Where the Daubenspeckses live. 'Zory allus -'fore that nightNever'peared to feel jest right In my company.-You see, On'y thing on earth saved me Was that "Literary "! 29 ONE AFTERNOON BELOW, cool grasses: over us The maples waver tremulous. A slender overture above, Low breathing as a sigh of love At first, then gradually strong And stronger:'t is the locust's song, Swoln midway to a paean of glee, And lost in silence dwindlingly. Not utter silence; nay, for hid In ghosts of it, the katydid Chirrs a diluted echo of The loveless song he makes us love. 3~ ONVE AFTERNOON The low boughs are drugged heavily WVith shade; the poem you read to me Is not more gracious than the trill Of birds that twitter as they will. Half consciously, with upturned eyes, I hear your voice- I see the skies, Where, o'er bright rifts, the swallows glance Like glad thoughts o'er a countenance; And voices near and far are blent Like sweet chords of some instrument Awakened by the trembling touch Of hands that love it overmuch. Dear heart, let be the book awhile! I want your face -I want your smile! Tell me how gladder now are they Who look on us from heaven to-day. 3I DOWN TO THE CAPITAL I' BE'N down to the Capital at Washington, D. C., Where Congerss meets and passes on the pensions ort to be Allowed to old one-legged chaps, like me,'at sence the war Don't wear their pants in pairs at all- and yit how proud we are! Old Flukens, from our deestrick, jes' turned in and tuck and made Me stay with him while I was there; and longer'at I stayed The more I kep' a-wantin' jes' to kind o' git away, And yit a-feelin' sociabler with Flukens ever' day. 32 DOW.V TO THE CAPITAL 33 You see I'd got the idy - and I guess most folks agrees - 'At men as rich as him, you know, kin do jes' what they please; A man worth stacks o' money, and a Congerssman and all, And livin' in a buildin' bigger'n Masonic Hall! Now mind, I'm not a-faultin' Fluke -he made his money square: We both was Forty-niners, and both bu'sted gittin' there; I weakened and onwindlassed, and he stuck and stayed and made His millions; don't know what I'm worth untel my pension's paid. But I was goin' to tell you - er a-ruther goin' to try To tell you how he's livin' now: gas burnin' mighty nigh In ever' room about the house; and all the night, about, Some blame reception goin' on, and money goin' out. 4 DOWN TO THE CAPITAL They's people there from all the world - jes' ever' kind'at lives, Injuns and all! and Senaters, and Ripresentatives; And girls, you know, jes' dressed in gauze and roses, I leclare, And even old men shamblin' round and waltzin' with 'em there! And bands a-tootin' circus-tunes,'way in some other room Jes' chokin' full o' hot-house plants and pinies and perfume; And fountains, squirtin' stiddy all the time; and statutes, made Out o' puore marble,'peared-like, sneakin' round there in the shade. And Fluke he coaxed and begged and pled with aie to take a hand And sashay in amongst'em-crutch and all, you understand; But when I said how tired I was, and made fer open air, He follered, and tel five o'clock we set a-talkin' there. 34 DOWlV TO THE CAPITAL "My God!" says he - Fluke says to me, "I'm tireder'n you; Don't putt up yer tobacker tel you give a man a chew. Set back a leetle furder in the shadder- that'11 do; I'm tireder'n you, old man; I'm tireder'n you. "You see that-air old dome," says he, "humped up ag'inst the sky? It's grand, first time you see it; but it changes, by and by, And then it stays jes' thataway- jes' anchored high and dry Betwixt the sky up yender and the achin' of yer eye. -' Night's purty; not so purty, though, as what it ust to be When my first wife was livin'. You remember her?" says he. I nodded-like, and Fluke went on, "I wonder now ef she Knows where I am - and what I am - and what I ust to be? 35 36 DOW N TO THE CAPITA L "That band in there! -I ust to think'at music could n't wear A feller out the way it does; but that ain't music there - That's jes' a' imitation, and like ever'thing, I swear, I hear, er see, er tetch, er taste, er tackle anywhere! "It's all jes' artificial, this-ere high-priced life of ours; The theory, it's sweet enough, tel it saps down and sours. They's no home left, ner ties o' home about it. By the powers, The whole thing's artificialer'n artificial flowers! "And all I want, and could lay down and sob fer, is to know The homely things of homely life; fer instance, jes' to go And set down by the kitchen stove -Lord! that 'u'd rest me so, Jes' set there, like I ust to do, and laugh and joke, you know. DO[VNA TO THE CAPI7TAL 37 "Jes' set there, like I ust to do," says Fluke, a-startin' in, 'Peared-like, to say the whole thing over to his. se'f ag'in; Then stopped and turned, and kind o' coughed, and stooped and fumbled fer Somepin' o''nuther in the grass-I guess his hand kercher. Well, sence I'm back from Washington, where I left Fluke a-still A-leggin' fer me, heart and soul, on that-air pen sion bill, I've half-way struck the notion, when I think o' wealth and sich, They's nothin' much patheticker'n jes' a-bein' rich! THE POET OF THE FUTURE O THE Poet of the Future! He will come to us as comes The beauty of the bugle's voice above the roar of drums - The beauty of the bugle's voice above the roar and din Of battle-drums that pulse the time the victor marches in. His hands will hold no harp, in sooth; his lifted brow will bear No coronet of laurel-nay, nor symbol anywhere, Save that his palms are brothers to the toiler's at the plow, His face to heaven, and the dew of duty on his brow. He will sing across the meadow,-and the woman at the well WAill stay the dripping bucket, with a smile ineffable; 38 THE POE7' OF THE FUTURE And the children in the orchard will gaze wistfully the way The happy song comes to them, with the fragrance of the hay; The barn will neigh in answer, and the pasture-lands behind Will chime with bells, and send responsive lowings down the wind; And all the echoes of the wood will jubilantly call In sweetest mimicry of that one sweetest voice of all. O the Poet of the Future! He will come as man to man, With the honest arm of labor, and the honest face of tan, The honest heart of lowliness, the honest soul of love For human-kind and nature-kind about him and above. His hands will hold no harp, in sooth; his lifted brow will bear No coronet of laurel -nay, nor symbol anywhere, Save that his palms are brothers to the toiler's at the plow, His face to heaven, and the dew of duty on his brow. 6 39 THE OLD MAN AND JIM OLD man never had much to say'Ceptin' to Jim, And Jim was the wildest boy he had - And the old man jes' wrapped up in him! Never heerd him speak but once Er twice in my life,- and first time was When the army broke out, and Jim he went, The old man backin' him, fer three months; An' all'at I heerd the old man say Was, jes' as we turned to start away, "Well, good-by, Jim: Take keer of yourse'f!" 'Peared-like, he was more satisfied Jes' lookiz' at Jim And likin' him all to hisse'f-like, see?'Cause he was jes' wrapped up in him! 4~ THE OLD MAN AND JIM And over and over I mind the day The old man come and stood round in the way While we was drillin', a-watchin' Jim And down at the deepot a-heerin' him say, "WVell, good-by, Jim: Take keer of yourse'f! " Never was nothin' about the farm Disting'ished Jim; Neighbors all ust to wonder why The old man'peared wrapped up in him: But when Cap. Biggler he writ back 'At Jim was the bravest boy we had In the whole dern rigiment, white er black, And his fightin' good as his farmin' bad'At he had led, with a bullet clean Bored through his thigh, and carried the flag Through the bloodiest battle you ever seen,The old man wound up a letter to him 'At Cap. read to us,'at said: "Tell Jim Good-by, And take keer of hisse'f." 4I THE 0~LD MAN AND JIM Jim come home jes' long enough To take the whim 'At he'd like to go back in the calvery And the old man jes' wrapped up in him! Jim'lowed'at he'd had sich luck afore, Guessed he'd tackle her three years more. And the old man give him a colt he'd raised, And follered him over to Camp Ben Wade, And laid around fer a week er so, Watchin' Jim on dress-paradeTel finally he rid away, And last he heerd was the old man say, "Well, good-by, Jim: Take keer of yourse'f!" Tuk the papers, the old man did, A-watchin' fer JimFully believin' he'd make his mark Some way-jes' wrapped up in him! And many a time the word'u'd come 'At stirred him up like the tap of a drum - At Petersburg, fer instunce, where Jim rid right into their cannons there, 42 TH~ OLD AIA N4V 4,\D JIM And tuk'em, and p'inted'em t' other way, And socked it home to the boys in gray, As they scooted fer timber, and on and on - Jim a lieutenant and one arm gone, And the old man's words in his mind all day, "Well, good-by, Jim: Take keer of yourse'f!" Think of a private, now, perhaps, WVe'11 say like Jim, 'At's dclumb clean up to the shoulder-straps And the old man jes' wrapped up in him! Think of him- with the war plum' through, And the glorious old Red-White-and-Blue A-laughin' the news down over Jim, And the old man, bendin' over himThe surgeon turnin' away with tears 'At had n't leaked fer years and years, As the hand of the dyin' boy clung to His father's, the old voice in his ears, "Well, good-by, Jim: Take keer of yourse'f!" 43 THOUGHTS ON THE LATE WAR I WAS for Union- you, ag'in' it. 'Pears like, to me, each side was winner, Lookin' at now and all'at's in it. Le''s go to dinner. Le''s kind o' jes' set down together And do some pardnership forgittin' — Talk, say, fer instunce,'bout the weather, Er somepin' fittin'. The war, you know,'s all done and ended, And ain't changed no p'ints o' the compass; Both North and South the health's jes' splendid As'fore the rumpus. The old farms and the old plantations Still ockipies the'r old positions. Le''s git back to old situations And old ambitions. 44 THOUGHTS ON THE LA TE WAR Le''s let up on this blame', infernal Tongue-lashin' and lap-jacket vauntin', And git back home to the eternal Ca'm we're a-wantin'. Peace kind o' sort o' suits my diet — When women does my cookin' for me. Ther' was n't overly much pie et Durin' the army. 45 THE OLD BAND IT'S mighty good to git back to the old town, shore, Considerin' I've be'n away twenty year and more. Sence I moved then to Kansas, of course I see a change, A-comin' back, and notice things that's new to me and strange; Especially at evening when yer new band-fellers meet, In fancy uniforms and all, and play out on the street.. What's come of old Bill Lindsey and the saxhorn fellers- say? I want to hear the old band play. 46 THE OLD BAND 47 What's come of Eastman, and Nat Snow? And where's War Barnett at? And Nate and Bony Meek; Bill Hart; Tom Richa' son and that Air brother of him played the drum as twic't as big as Jim; And old Hi Kerns, the carpenter-say, what's be come o' him? I make no doubt yer new band now's a covpetenter band, And plays their music more by note than what they play by hand, And stylisher and grander tunes; but somehow azyway, I want to hear the obl band play. Sich tunes as "John Brown's Body" and "Sweet Alice," don't you know; And "The Camels is A-comin'," and "John Ander son, my Jo"; And a dozent others of'em " Number Nine" and "Number'Leven" Was favorites that fairly made a feller dream o heaven. 7 TIIE~ OLD BA ND _\I I ~~~~~~~~~~~I t.i 'il ~ /,/;I#~ And when the boys'u'd saranade, I've laid so still in bed I've even heerd the locus'-blossoms droppin' on the shed When " Lily Dale," er "Hazel Dell," had sobbed and died away ... I want to hear the old band play. 48 T7fE OLD BAND 49 Yer ilew band ma'by beats it, but the old band's what I saidIt allus'peared to kind o' chord with somepin' in my head; And, whilse I'm no musicianer, when my blame' eyes is jes' Nigh drownded out, and Mem'ry squares her jaws and sort o' says She wzon't ner nc7'er will fergit, I want to jes' turn in And take and light right out o' here and git back ;Vest ag'in And stay there, when I git there, where I never haf' to say I want to hear the old band play. +- I "LAST CHRISTMAS WAS A YEAR AGO" (THE OLD LADY SPEAKS) LAST Christmas was a year ago, Says I to David, I-says-I, "We're goin' to morning-service, so You hitch up right away: I'11 try To tell the girls jes' what to do Fer dinner.-We'11 be back by two." I did n't wait to hear what he Would more'n like say back to me, But banged the stable door and flew Back to the house, jes' plumb chilled through. Cold! Woo!/ how cold it was! My-oh! Frost flyin', and the air, you know, Jes' sharp enough," heerd David swear, 'Io shave a man and cut his hair!" "LAST CHRISTzlAS WAS A YEAR AGO" 5 I And blow and blow! and snow and snow!Where it had drifted'long the fence And'crost the road,- some places, though, Jes' swep' clean to the gravel, so The goin' was as bad fer sleighs As't was fer wagons,- and both ways, 'Twixt snowdrifts and the bare ground, I've Jes' wundered we got through alive; I hain't saw nothin','fore er sence, 'At beat it anywheres, I knowLast Christmas was a year ago. And David said, as we set out, 'At Christmas services was'bout As cold and wuthless kind o' love To offer up as he knowed of; And as fer him, he railly thought 'At the Good Bein' up above Would think more of us -as he oughtA-stayin' home on sich a day, And thankin' of him thataway! And jawed on, in an undertone, 'Bout leavin' Lide and Jane alone 52 "L4 AST CHRIST_/1AS [VAS A YEA,R AGO" There on the place, and me not there To oversee'em, and p'pare The stuffin' fer the turkey and The sass and all, you understand. I've allus managed David by Jes' sayin' iot,iiiz'. That was why He'd chased Lide's beau away-'cause Lide Size'if allus take up Perry's side WVhen David tackled him; and so, Last Christmas was a year ago,Er ruther,'bout a week afore,David and Perry'd quarr'l'd about Some tom-fool argyment, you know, And Pap told him to "Jes' git out O' there, and not to come no more, And, when he went, to shet the door!" And as he passed the winder, we Saw Perry, white as white could be, March past, onhitch his hoss, and light A see-gyar, and lope out o' sight. Then Lide she come to me and cried! And I said nothin'- was no need. "LAST CHRISTMAAS WAS A YEAR AGO" 53 And yit, you know, that man jes' got Right out o' there's ef he'd be'n shot, P'tendin' he must go and feed The stock er somepin'. Then I tried To git the pore girl pacified. But, gittin' back to - where was we?Oh, yes!-where David lectered me All way to meetin', high and low, Last Christmas was a year ago: Fer all the awful cold, they was A fair attendunce; mostly, though, The crowd was'round the stoves, you see, Thawin' their heels and scrougin' us. Ef't'ad n't be'n fer the old Squire Givin' his seat to us, as in We stomped, a-fairly perishin', And David could'a' got no fire, He'd jes''a' drapped there in his tracks: And Squire, as I was tryin' to yit Make room fer him, says, "No; the fac's Is, I got to git up and git 'Ilioul no preachin'. Jes' got wordTrial fer life - can't be deferred!" 54 "LAST CHRIST_MIAS WAS A YEAR AGO" And out he putt! And all way through The sermont- and a long one, tooI could n't he'p but think o' Squire And us changed round so, and admire His gintle ways,- to give his warm Bench up, and have to face the storm. And when I noticed David, he Was needin' jabbin'- I thought best To kind o' sort o' let him rest: 'Peared-like he slep' so peacefully! And then I thought o' home, and how And what the gyrls was doin' now, And kind o' prayed,'way in my breast, And breshed away a tear er two As David waked, and church was through. By time we'd "howdyed" round and shuck Hands with the neighbers, must'a' tuck A half hour longer: ever' one A-sayin' "Christmas gift!" afore David er me - so we got none! But David warmed up, more and more, And got so jokey-like, and had His sperits up, and'peared so glad, "LAST CHRISTzIAS WVAS A YEAR AGO" I whispered to him, "S'pose you ast A passel of'em come and eat Their dinners with us. Gyrls's got A full-and-plenty fer the lot And all their kin!" So David passed The invite round: and ever' seat In ever' wagon-bed and sleigh \Vas jes' packed, as we rode away,The young folks, mild er so along, A-strikin' up a sleighin'-song, Tel David laughed and yelled, you know, And jes' whirped up and sent the snow And gravel flyin' thick and fastLast Christmas was a year ago. W'y, that-air seven-mild ja'nt we comeJes' seven mild scant from church to homeIt did n't'pear, /hat day, to be Much furder railly'n'bout three! But I was purty squeamish by The time home hove in sight and I See two vehickles standin' there Already. So says I, "Prepare!" All to myse'f. And presently S 55 56 "LAST CHRISTA,AS WAS A YEAR AGO" David he sobered; and says he, "Hain't that-air Squire Hanch's old Buggy," he says, "and claybank mare?" Says I, "Le''s git in out the cold - Your company's nigh'bout froze!" He says, "Whose sleigh's that-air, a-standin' there?" Says I, "It's no odds whose-you jes' Drive to the house and let us out, 'Cause we're jes' freezin', nigh about!" Well, David swung up to the door, And out we piled. And first I heerd Jane's voice, then Lide's,- I thought afore I reached that gyrl I'd jes' die, shore; And when I reached her, would n't keered Much ef I had, I was so glad, A-kissin' her through my green veil, And jes' excitin' her so bad, 'At she broke down hersef- and Jane, Slze cried -and we all hugged again. And David?- David jes' turned pale! Looked at the gyrls, and then at me, Then at the open door-and thenIs old Squire Hanch in there? " says he. "LAS7' CHRISTMAS WAS A YEAR AGO" 57 The old Squire suddently stood in The doorway, with a sneakin' grin. Is Perry Anders in there, too?" Says David, limberin' all through, As Lide and me both grabbed him, and Perry stepped out and waved his hand And says, "Yes, Pap." And David jes' Stooped and kissed Lide, and says, " I guess Yer motier's much to blame as you. Ef she kin resk him, I kin too!" The dinner we had then hain't no Bit better'n the one to-day 'At we'11 have fer'em. Hear some sleigh A-jinglin' now. David, fer moe, I wish you'd jes' go out and see Ef they're in sight yit. It jes' does Me good to think, in times like these, Lide's done so well. And David, he's More tractabler'n what he wasLast Christmas was a year ago. THE ALL-KIND MOTHER Lo, whatever is at hand Is full meet for the demand: Nature ofttimes giveth best lNThen she seemeth chariest. She hath shapen shower and sun To the need of every oneSummer bland and winter drear, Dimpled pool and frozen mere. All thou lackest she hath still Near thy finding and thy fill. Yield her fullest faith, and she Wlill endow thee royally. Loveless weed and lily fair She attendeth, here and thereKindly to the weed as to The lorn lily teared with dew. 58 Y'HE A LL-KIND AIO THE Each to her hath use as dear As the other; an thou clear Thy cloyed senses thou may'st see Haply all the mystery. Thou shalt see the lily get Its divinest blossom; yet Shall the weed's tip bloom no less With the song-bird's gleefulness. Thou art poor, or thou art richNever lightest matter which; All the glad gold of the noon, All the silver of the moon, She doth lavish on thee, while Thou withholdest any smile Of thy gratitude to her, Baser used than usurer. Shame be on thee an thou seek Not her pardon, with hot cheek, And bowed head, and brimming eyes, At her merciful "Arise!" 59 OUR HIRED GIRL OUR hired girl, she's'Lizabuth Ann; An' she can cook best things to eat! She ist puts dough in our pie-pan, An' pours in somepin''at's good an' sweet; An' nen she salts it all on top With cinnamon; an' nen she'11 stop An' stoop an' slide it, ist as slow, In th' old cook-stove, so's't won't slop 60 0 UR HIRED GIRL An' git all spilled; nen bakes it, so It's custard-pie, first thing you know! An' nen she'11 say, "Clear out o' my way! They's time fer work, an' time fer play! Take yer dough, an' run, child, run! Er I cain't git no cookin' done!" Wlhen our hired girl'tends like she's mad, An' says folks got to walk the chalk Wvhen she's around, er wisht they had! I play out on our porch an' talk To th' Raggedy Man'at mows our lawn; An' he says, " [Veza. w/" an' nen leans on His old crook-scythe, and blinks his eyes, An' sniffs all'round an' says, "I swawn! Ef my old nose don't tell me lies, It'pears like I smell custard-pies!" An' nen lhe'I say, "Clear out o' my way! They's time fer work, an' time fer play! Take yer dough, an' run, child, run! Er she cain't git no cookin' done!" 6I 0 U IJ HIRED GIRL Wunst our hired girl, when she Got the supper, an' we all et, An' it wuz night, an' Ma an' me An' Pa went wher' the "Social" met,An' nen when we come home, an' see A light in the kitchen-door, an' we Heerd a maccordeun, Pa says, "Lan'O'-Gracious! who can her beau be?" An' I marched in, an''Lizabuth Ann WVuz parchin' corn fer the Raggedy Man! Better say, "Clear out o' the way! They's time fer work, an' time fer play! Take the hint, an' run, child, run! Er we cain't git no courtin' done!" 62 THE RAGGEDY MAN O THE Raggedy Man! He works fer Pa; An' he's the goodest man ever you saw! He comes to our house every day, An' waters the horses, an' feeds'em hay; An' he opens the shed-an' we all ist laugh Wvhen he drives out our little old wobble-ly calf; An' nen -ef our hired girl says he canHe milks the cow fer'Lizabuth Ann. Ain't he a' awful good Raggedy Man? Raggedy! Raggedy! Raggedy Man! WV'y, the Raggedy Man-he's ist so good, He splits the kindlin' an' chops the wood; An' nen he spades in our garden, too, An' does most things'at',s can't do.He clumbed clean up in our big tree An' shooked a' apple down fer me An''nother'n', too, fer'Lizabuth AnnAn''nother'n', too, fer the Raggedy Man. Ain't he a' awful kind Raggedy Man? Raggedy! Raggedy! Raggedy Man! 9 63 THL' RAGGEDY MAX An' the Raggedy Man, he knows most rhymes, An' tells'em, ef I be good, sometimes: Knows'bout Giunts, an' Griffuns, an' Elves, An' the Squidgicum-Squees'at swallers therselves! An', wite by the pump in our pasture-lot, He showed me the hole'at the Wunks is got, 'At lives'way deep in the ground, an' can Turn into me, er'Lizabuth Ann! Ain't he a funny old Raggedy Man? Raggedy! Raggedy! Raggedy Man! 64 TIIE RA GGED i' 14A zV The Raggedy Man-one time, when he INuz makin' a little bow'-n'-orry fer me, Says, "When you're big like your Pa is, Air youZ go' to keep a fine store like hisAn' be a rich merchunt-an' wear fine clothes?Er what air you go' to be, goodness knows?" An' nen he laughed at'Lizabuth Ann, An' I says, "'M go' to be a Raggedy Man! I'm ist go' to be a nice Raggedy Man!" Raggedy! Raggedy! Raggedy Man! 65 GOIN' TO THE FAIR (OLD STYLE) WHEN Me an' my Ma an' Pa went to the Fair, Ma borried Mizz Rollins-uz rigg to go there, 'Cause our buggy's new, an' Ma says, "Mercy-sake! It would n't hold half the folks she's go' to take!" An' she took Marindy, an' Jane's twins, an' Jo, An' Aunty Van Meters-uz girls -an' old Slo' Magee,'at's so fat, come a-scrougin' in there, When me an' my Ma an' Pa went to the Fair! The road's full o' loads-full'ist ready to bust, An' all hot, an' smokin' an' chokin' with dust; The Wolffs an' their wagon, an' Brizentines, tooAn' horses'ist r'ared when the toot-cars come through! An''way from fur off we could hear the band play, An' peoples all there'u'd'ist whoop an' hooray! An' I stood on the dash-board, an' Pa boost me there 'Mlost high as the fence, when we went to the Fair! 66 GOIN' Y'0 TH~ FAIRA' An' when we'uz there an' inside, we could see Wher' the flag's on a pole wher' a show's go' to be; An' boys up in trees, an' the grea'-big balloon 'At did n't goned up a-tall, all afternoon! An' a man in the crowd there gived money awayAn' Pa says "he'd ruther earn his by the day!"An' he gim-me some, an' says "ain't nothin' there Too good fer his boy," when we went to the Fair! Wisht the Raggedy Man wuz there, too! -but he says, "Don't talk fairs to me, child! I went to one; yes, An' they wuz a swing there ye rode -an' I rode, An' a thing-um-a-jing'at ye blowed -an' I blowed; An' they wuz a game'at ye played -an' I played, An' a hitch in the same wher' ye paid -an' I paid; An' they wuz zeCo bad to one good peoples there - Like ),ol an' your Pa an' Ma went to the Fair! 67 GLADNESS My ole man named Silas: he Dead long'fo' ole Gin'l Lee S'rendah, whense de wah wuz done. Yanks dey tuk de plantationMos' high-handed evah you see!Das rack roun', an' fiah an' bu'n, An' jab de beds wid deir bay'net-gun, An' sweah we niggahs all scotch-free,An' Massah John C. Pemberton Das tuk an' run! Gord Armighty, marm," he'low, "He'p you an' de chillen now!" Blaze crack out'n de roof inside Tel de big house all das charified! Smoke roll out'n de ole hay-mow An de wa'house do'- an' cde fiali das roah 68 GLADATESS An' all dat'backer,'bout half dried, Hit smell das fried! Nelse, my ol'est boy, an' John, Atter de baby das wuz bo'n, Erlongse dem times, an' lak ter'a' died, An' Silas he be'n slip an' gone 'Bout eight weeks ter de Union side,Dem two boys dey start fo' ter fine An' jine deir fader acrost de line. Ovahseeah he wade an' tromp Eveh-which-way fo' to track'em downSic de bloodhoun' fro' de swampAn' bring de news dat John he drown' But dey save de houn'! Someway ner Nelse git fro' An' fight fo' de ole Red, White, an' Blue, Lak his fader is, ter er heart's delightAn' nen crope back wvid de news, one nightSayes, "Fader's killed in a scrimmage-fight, An' saunt farewell ter ye all, an' sayes Fo' ter name de baby'Gladness,''caze 69 GL AD,ESS Mighty nigh she'uz be'n borned free!" An' de boy he smile so strange at me I sayes, "Yo''s hurt yo'sef! " an' he Sayes, "I's killed, too -an' dat's all else!" An' dah lay Nelse! Hope an' Angrish, de twins, be'n sole 'Fo' dey mo''n twelve year ole: An' Mary Magdaline sole too. An' dah I's lef', wid Knox-Andrew, An' Lily, an' Maje, an' Margaret, An' little gal-babe,'at's borned dat new She scaisely ole fo' ter be named yet - Less'n de name'at Si say to - An' co'se hit do. An' I taken dem chillen, evah one (An' a-oh my Mastah's will be done!), An' I break fo' de Norf, whah dey all raised free (An' a-oh good Mastah, come git me!). Knox-Andrew, on de day he died, Lef' his fambly er shop an' er lot berside; An' Maje die ownin' er team - an' he Lef' all ter me. 70 GLADNVESS Lily she work at de Gran' Hotel (Mastah! Mastah! take me-do!)An' Lily she ain' married well: He stob a man -an' she die too; An' Margaret she too full er pride Ter own her kin tel er day she died! But Gladness! -'t ain' soun' sho'-nuff true,But she teached school! - an' er white folks, Ruspec' dat gal'mos' high ez I do! - 'Caze she'uz de bes' an de mos' high bred - De las' chile bo'n, an' de las' chile dead, O' all ten head! Gladness! Gladness! a-oh my chile! Wa'm my soul in yo' sweet smile! Daughter o' Silas! o-rise an' sing Tel er heart-beat pat lak er pigeon-wing! Sayes, O Gladness! wake dem eyesSayes, a-lif' dem folded han's, an' riseSayes, a-coax me erlong ter Paradise, An' a-hail de King, 0 Gladness! 10 7 1 FESSLER'S BEES TALKIN''bout yer bees," says Ike, Speakin' slow and ser'ous-like, D' ever tell you'bout old' Bee' Old'Bee' Fessler?" Ike says-he! Might call him a bee-expert, When it come to handlin' bees, Roll the sleeves up of his shirt And wade in amongst the trees Where a swarm'u'd settle, and Blamedest man on top of dirt! Rake'em with his naked hand Right back in the hive ag'in, Jes' as easy as you please! Nary bee'at split the breeze Ever jabbed a stinger in Old' Bee' Fessler -jes' in fun, Er in airiest-nary one! - Could n't agg one on to, nuther, Ary one way er the other! 72 FESSIER'S BEES Old' Bee' Fessler," Ike says-he, "Made a speshyality Jes' o' bees; and built a shedLen'th about a half a mild! Had about a thousan' head O' hives, I reckon- tame and wild! Durndest buzzin' ever wuzWuss'n telegraph-poles does When they're sockin' home the news Tight as they kin let'er loose! Visitors rag out and come Clean from town to hear'em hum, And stop at the kivered bridge; But wuz some'u'd cross the ridge Allus, and go clos'ter -so's They could see'em hum, I s'pose! 'Peared-like strangers down that track Allus met folks comin' back Lookin' extry fat and hearty Fer a city picnic party! "'Fore he went to Floridy, Old'Bee' Fessler," Ike says-he 73 FESSLER'S BEES "Old' Bee' Fessler could n't bide Childern on his place," says Ike. Yit, fer all, they'd climb inside And tromp round there, keerless-like, In their bare feet.' Bee' could tell Ev'ry town-boy by his yell - So's'at when they bounced the fence, Did n't make no difference! He'd jes' git down on one knee In the grass and pat the bee! And, ef't'ad n't stayed stuck in, Fess''u'd set the sting ag'in, 'N' potter off, and wait around Fer the old famillyer sound. Allus boys there, more er less, Scootin' round the premises! When the buckwheat wuz in bloom, Lawzy! how them bees'u'd boom Round the boys'at crossed that way Fer the crick on Saturday! Never seemed to me su'prisin' 'At the sting o' bees'uz p'izin! "'Fore he went to Floridy," Ike says, "nothin''bout a bee 74 FESSLER'S BEES 'At old Fessler did n't know,W'y, it jes''peared-like'at he Knowed their language, high and low: Claimed he told jes' by their buzz What their wants and wishes wuz! Peek in them-air little holes Round the porches o' the hiveDrat their pesky little souls!Could'a' skinned the man alive! Bore right in there with his thumb, And squat down and scrape the gum Outen ev'ry hole, and blow 'N' bresh the crumbs off, don't you know! Take the roof off, and slide back Them-air glass concerns they pack Full o' honey, and jes' lean 'N' grabble'mongst'em fer the queen! Fetch her out and show you to her Jes', you might say, iznterview her! "Year er two," says Ike, says-he, "'Fore he went to Floridy, Fessler struck the theory, Honey was the same as love 75 FESSLER'S BEES You could make it day and night: Said them bees o' his could be Got jes' twic't the work out of Ef a feller managed right. He contended ef bees found Blossoms all the year around, He could git'em down at once To work all the winter months Same as summer. So, one fall, When their summer's work wuz done, 'Bee' tumrns in and robs'em all; Loads the hives then, one by one, On the cyars, and'lowed he'd see Ef bees loafed in Floridy! Said he bet he'd know the reason Ef his did n't work that season! "And," says Ike, "it's jes'," says-he, "Like old Fessler says to me: 'Any man kin fool a bee, Git him down in Floridy!' 'Peared at fust, as old'Bee' said, Fer to kind o' turn their head 76 FESSLER'S BEES Fer a spell; but, bless you! they Did n't lose a half a day Altogether!- Jes' lit in Them-air tropics, and them-air Cacktusses a-ripen-nin', 'N' magnolyers, and sweet-peas, 'N''simmon and pineapple trees, 'N' ripe bananners, here and there, 'N' dates a-danglin' in the breeze, 'N' figs and reezins ev'rywhere, All waitin' jes' fer Fessler's bees! 'N' Fessler's bees, with gaumy wings, A-gittin' down and whoopin' things! Fessler kind o' overseein' 'Em, and sort o''hee-o-heeiiz'!' "'Fore he went to Floridy, Old'Bee' Fessler," Ike says-he, "Wuz n't counted, jes' to say, Mean er or'n'ry anyway; On'y ev'ry'tarnel dime 'At'u'd pass him on the road He'd ketch up with, ev'ry time; And no mortal ever knowed 77. FESSLER'S BEES Him to spend a copper cent - 'Less on some fool-'speriinent With them bees - like that-un he Played on'em in Floridy. Fess', of course, he tuck his ease, But't wuz bilious on the bees! Sweat, you know,'u'd jes' stand out On their forreds - pant and groan, And grunt round and limp about! And old'Bee,' o' course, a-knowin' 'T wuz n't no fair shake to play On them pore dumb insecks, ner To abuse'em thataway. Bees has rights, I'm here to say, And that's all they ast him fer! Man as mean as that, jes''pears, Could'a' worked bees on the sheers! Cleared big money- well, I guess, ' Bee' shipped honey, more er less, Into ev'ry state, perhaps, Ever putt down in the maps! "But by time he fetched'em back In the spring ag'in," says Ike, 78 F~SSLLER'S BE~ES "They wuz actin' s'picious-like: Though the),'peared to lost the track O' ev'rything they saw er heard, They'd lay round the porch, and gap' At their shadders in the sun, Do-less like, ontel some bird Suddently'u'd mayby drap In a bloomin' churry-tree, Twitterin' a tune'at run In their minds familiously! Thev'd revive up, kind o', then, Like they argied:'Well, it's be'n The most longest summer we Ever saw er want to see! M\ust be right, though, er old'Bee' 'U'd notify us!' they says-ee; And they'd sort o' square their chin And git down to work ag'in MIoanin' round their honey-makin', Kind o' like their head was achin'. Tetc/ilz' fer to see how they Trusted Fessler thataway Him a-lazin' round, and smirkin' To hisse'f to see'em workin'! 11 79 FESSLER'S BEES "But old'Bee,'" says Ike, says-he,"_rowz where is he? Where's he gone? Where's the head he helt so free? Where's his pride and vanity? What's his hopes a-restin' on? Never knowed a man," says Ike. "Take advantage of a bee, 'At affliction didn't strike Round in that vicinity! Sinners allus suffers some, And old Fessler's reck'nin' come! That-air man to-day is jes' Like the grass'at Scriptur' says Cometh up, and then turns in And jes' gits cut down ag'in! Old'Bee' Fessler," Ike says-he, "Says, last fall, says he to me - 'Ike,' says he,'them bees has jes' Ciphered out my or'n'riness! Nary bee in ary swarm On the whole endurin' farm Won't have nothin' more to do WAith a man as mean as I've Be'n to them, last year er two! So FESSLER'S BEES Nary bee in ary hive But'11 turn his face away, Like they ort, whenever they Hear my footprints drawin' nigh!' And old'Bee,' he'd sort o' shy Rpund oneasy in his cheer, Wipe his eyes, and yit the sap, Spite o' all,'u'd haf' to drap, As he wound up:'Would n't keer Quite so much ef they'd jes' light In and settle things up right, Like they ort; but -blame the thing! — 'Pears-like they won't even stiing! Pepper me, the way I felt, And I'd thank'em, ev'ry welt!' And as miz'able and mean As' Bee' looked, ef you'd'a' seen Them-air hungry eyes," says Ike, "You'd fergive him, more'n like. "W lisht you had'a' knowed old' Bee' 'Fore he went to Floridyv!" 8I A LIFE TERM SHE was false, and he was true, Thus their lives were rent apart; 'T was his dagger driven through A mad rival's heart. He was shut away. The moon May not find him; nor the stars - Nay, nor yet the sun of noon Pierce his prison bars. She was left-again to sin Mistress of all siren arts: The poor, soulless heroine Of a hundred hearts! 82 A LIFE TERR I Though she dare not think of him WAho believed her lies, and so Sent a ghost adown the dim Path she dreads to go, He, in fancy, smiling, sips Of her kisses, purer yet Than the dew upon the lips Of the violet. 83 "THE LITTLE MIAN IN THE TINSHOP" \A'HEN I was a little boy, long ago, And spoke of the theatre as the show," The first one that I went to see, M\other's brother it was took me(My uncle, of course, though he seemed to be Onlv a boy- I loved him so!) " TfiL LI T TLE 1A N Li\ 7 7 SE'Iz\'StIOP " 85 And ah, how pleasant he made it all! And the things he knew that I should know!The stage, the "drop," and the frescoed wall; The sudden flash of the lights; and oh, 'The orchestra, with its melody, And the lilt and jingle and jubilee Of "The Little Man in the Tinshop " For Uncle showed me "The Leader " there, WIith his pale, bleak forehead and long, black hair; Showed me the "Second," and "'Cello," and "Bass," And the "B-Flat," pouting and puffing his face At the little end of the horn he blew Silvery bubbles of music through; 86 " 7HBE LI Y'YLE.-I\ RE lV 71'1E 7'LVSHOP " And he coined me names of them, each in turn, Some comical name that I laughed to learn, Clean on down to the last and best,The livelv little man, never at rest, Wlho hides awav at the end of the string, And tinkers and plays on everything, That's "' The LTittle M\an in the Tinshop" Rakling, a drum like a rattle of hail, Clinking a cymbal or castanet; Chirping a twitter or sending a wail Through a piccolo that thrills me vet Reeling ripples of riotous bells, Andl tips- tinkles of triangles "7'H~ LITLE,,IIA:V LV 7WHL TI.\-SOP " 8 7 WNrangled and tangled in skeins of sound Till it seemed that my very soul spun round, As I leaned, in a breathless joy, toward my Radiant uncle, who snapped his eye And said, with the courtliest wave of his hand, "-Why, that little master of all the band Is The Little MIan in the Tinshop! 12 L, | - Il,=_= I -- -, - 8"t8 [I LZ'E LJA a\r - iAE' 7 t I- TI(tOP" "And I'-e heard Verdi, the WAonderful, And Paganini, and Ole Bull, MIozart, Handel, and Mendelssohn, And fair Parepa, whose matchless tone Karl, her master, with magic bow, Blent with the angels', and held her so Tranced till the rapturous Infinite And I've heard arias, faint and low, From many an operatic light Glimmering on my swimming sight Dimmer and dimmer, until, at last, I still sit, holding my roses fast For The Little Man in the Tinshop." 'TH.~ LITTLE,7L4.V I,\- THE 77ILSHOP" 9 Oho: my Little Alan, joy to you And'ousi -and tlci/rsyour lifetime thlrough TIhough I'Te heard melodies, boy and man. Since first "the show" of my life began, Never yet have I listened to Sadder, madder, or gladder glees Than vour unharmonied harmonies; -tki go THE LITTL E.,4A' IN7 7 7'IA-SHOP" For yours is the music that appeals To all the fervor the boy's heart feelsAll his glories, his wildest cheers, His bravest hopes, and his brightest tears; And so, with his first bouquet, he kneels To "The Little MIan in the Tinshop." FROM A BALLOON Ho! we are loose. Hear how they shout, And how their clamor dwindles out Beneath us to the merest hum Of earthly acclamation. Come, Lean with me here and look below - Wvhy, bless you, man! don't tremble so! There is no need of fear up hereNot higher than the buzzard swings About upon the atmosphere, With drowsy eyes and open wings! There, steady, now, and feast your eyes;See, we are tranced- we do not rise; It is the earth that sinks from us But when I first beheld it thus, And felt the breezes downward flow, And heard all noises fail and die, Until but silence and the sky Above, around me, and below,Why, like you now, I swooned almost, With mingled awe and fear and gleeAs giddy as an hour-old ghost That stares into eternity. 9' "TRADIN' JOE" I'.i one o' these cur'ous kind o' chaps You think you know when you don't, perhaps! I hain't no fool-ner I don't p'tend To be so smart I could rickommend AIMyself fer a coitgerssiiiail, my friend! But I'm kind o' betwixt-and-between, you know,One o' these fellers'at folks calls "slow." And I'11 say jest here I'm kind o' queer Regardin' things'at I see and hcar,Fer I'm tlick o' hearin' sopmetimes, and It's hard to git me to understand; But other times it hain't, you bet! Fer I don't sleep with both eyes shet! I've swopped a power in stock, and so The neighbers calls me "Tradin' Joe "And I'm goin' to tell you'bout a trade,And one o' the best I ever made: Folks has gone so fur's to say 'A:t I'm w-ell fixed, in a 7,rorlt/y way, 92 " TAADz\' JOE" And brii' so, and a to, It's not su'prisin', as you'11 infer, I'm purty handy among the sectINidders especially, rickollect! And I won't deny that along o' late I'-e hankered a heap fer the married state — Eut some way o''nother the longer we wait The harder it is to discover a mate. Mlarshall Thomas,-a friend o' mine, Doin' some in the tradin' line, But a'most too )'Ol/lg to know it all On'y at Piicnics er some ba//. Says to me, in a banterin' way, As we was a-loadin' stock one day,IYou're a-huntin' a wife, and I want you to see IMy girl's mother, at Kankakee! She hain't over forty-good-lookin' and spry, And jest the woman to fill your eye! And I'm a-goin' there Sund'y,- and now," says he, "I want to take you along with iiic, And you marry 1her, and," he says, "by'shaw! You'11 hev me fer yer son-in-law! 93 " "TRADIN' JOE " I studied a while, and says I, "W Vell, I'11 First have to see ef she suits my style; And ef she does, you kin bet your life Your mother-in-law will be my wife!" WVell, Sund'y come; and I fixed up some Putt on a collar-I did, by gum! Got down my "plug," and my satin vest (You would n't know me to see me dressed!But any one knows ef you got the clothes You kin go in the crowd wher' the best of'em goes!) And I greeced my boots, and combed my hair Keerfully over the bald place there; And Marshall Thomas and me that day Eat our dinners with Widder Gray And her girl Han'! * * * Well, jest a glance O' the widder's smilin' countenance, A-cuttin' up chicken and big pot-pies, Would make a man hungry in Paradise! And passin' p'serves and jelly and cake 'At would make an aii,cl's appetite acl/e! 94 " TRADIN' JO~L " Pourin' out coffee as yaller as gold Twic't as much as the cup could hold La! it was rich! - And then she'd say, "Take some o' /this! " in her coaxin' way, Tel ef I'd been a hoss I'd a-foundered, shore, And jest dropped dead on her white-oak floor! Well, the way I talked would a-done you good, Ef you'd a-been there to a-understood; Tel I noticed Hanner and Marshall, they Was a-noticin' me in a cur'ous way; So I says to myse'f, says I, "Now, Joe, The best thing fer you is to jest go slow!" And I simmered down, and let them do The bulk o' the talkin' the evening through. And Marshall was still in a talkative gait When we left, that evening-tollable late. "How do you like her?" he says to me; Says I, "She suits, to a't-y-Tee'!" And then I ast how matters stood With him in the opposite neighberhood? "Bully!" he says; "I ruther guess I'11 finally git her to say the'yes.' 13 95 " TRRADIN' JOE " I named it to her to-night, and she Kind o' smiled, and said'she'd see' And that's a purty good sign!" says he: "Yes," says I, "you're ahead o' me! " And then he laughed, and said, "Go in!" And patted me on the shoulder ag'in. Well, ever sence then I've been ridin' a good Deal through the Kankakee neighberhood; And I make it convenient sometimes to stop And hitch a few minutes, and kind o' drop In at the widder's, and talk o' the crop And one thing o''nother. And week afore last The notion struck me, as I drove past, I'd stop at the place and state my case Might as well do it at first as last! I felt first-rate; so I hitched at the gate, And went up to the house; and, strange to relate, Marshall Thomnas had dropped in, too."Glad to see you, sir, how do you do?" He says, says he! \Vell -it soundedt queer; And when Han' told me to take a cheer, 96 "TRADIN' JOE", Marshall got up and putt out o' the room And motioned his hand fer the witlder to come. I did n't say notbin' fer quite a spell, But thinks I to myse'f, "Ther''s a dog in the well!" And Han' she smiled so cur'ous at me Says I, "What's up?" And she says, says she, "Marshall's been at me to marry ag'in, And I told him'no,' jest as you come in." Well, sumepin' o''nother in that girl's voice Says to me, "Joseph, here's your choice!" And another minute her guileless breast Was lovin'ly throbbin' ag'in my vest! - And then I kissed her, and heerd a smack Come like a' echo a-flutterin' back, And we looked around, and in full view Marshall was kissin' the widder too! Well, we all of us laughed, in our glad su'prise, Tel the tears come a-streamiz' out of our eyes! And when Marsh said "'T was the squarest trade That ever me and him had made," We both shuck hands,'y jucks! and swore We'd stick together ferevermore. And old'Squire Chipman tuck us the trip: And Marshall and me's in pardnership! 97 UNCLE WILLIAM'S PICTURE UNCLE WILLIAM, last July, Had his picture took. "Have it done, of course," says I, "Jes' the way you look!" (All dressed up, he was, fer the Barbecue and jubilee The old settlers helt.) So he Last he had it took. Lide she'd coaxed and begged and pled, Sence her mother went; But he'd cough and shake his head At all argyment; Mebby clear his th'oat and say, "What's my likeness'mount to, hey, Now with Motler gone away From us, like she went?" But we projicked round, tel we Got it figgered down 98 UNACLE WILLIAM'S PICTURE How we'd git him, Lide and me, Drivin' into town; Bragged how well he looked and fleshed Up around the face, and freshed With the morning air; and breshed His coat-collar down. All so providential! W'y, Now he's dead and gone, Picture'pears so lifelike I Want to start him on Them old tales he ust to tell, And old talks so sociable, And old songs he sung so well - 'Fore his voice was gone! Face is sad to Li((e, and they's Sorrow in the eyes - Kisses it sometimes, and lays It away and cries. I smooth down her hair, and'low He is happy, anyhow, Bein' there with Mother now, Smile, and wipe my eyes. 99 * -e THE FISHING-PARTY WUNST we went a-fishin'- Me An' my Pa an' Ma, all three, When they wuz a picnic,'way Out to Hanch's Woods, one day. An' they wuz a crick out there, Where the fishes is, an' where Little boys't ain't big an' strong Better have their folks along! My Pa he ist fished an' fished! An' my Ma she said she wished Me an' her was home; an' Pa Said he wished so worse'n Ma. Pa said ef you talk, er say Anything, er sneeze, er play, Hain't no fish, alive er dead, Ever go' to bite! he said. IOO THE FISHIAVG-PAR 7' Y Purt'-nigh dark in town when we Got back home; an' Ma, says she, Vzow she'11 have a fish fer shore! An' she buyed one at the store. Nen at supper, Pa he won't Eat no fish, an' says he don't Like'em.-An' he pounded me When I choked!...Ma, did n't he? I f .. fL I ~~~~~~~ IOI SQUIRE HAWKINS'S STORY I HAIN'T no hand at tellin' tales, Er spinnin' yarns, as the sailors say; Someway o''nother, language fails To slide fer me in the oily way That law.yers has; and I wisht it would, Fer I've got somepin' that I call good; But bein' only a country squire, I've learned to listen and admire, Ruther preferrin' to be addressed Than talk myse'f -but I'11 do my best: Old Jeff Thompson-well, I'11 say, WVas the clos'test man I ever saw! - Rich as cream, but the porest pay, And the meanest man to work fer- La! I've knowed that man to work one "hand Fer little er nothin', you understandFrom four o'clock in the morning light Tel eight and nine o'clock at night, And then find fault with his appetite! SQUIIRE AL4A tV.I,VS'S STOR Y He'd drive all over the neighberhood To miss the place where a toll-gate stood, And slip in town, by some old road That no two men in the county knowed, WNith a jag o' wood, and a sack o' wheat, That would n't burn and you could n't eat! And the trades he'd make,'11 I jest de-clare, WIas enough to make a preacher swear! And then he'd hitch, and hang about Tel the lights in the toll-gate was blowed out, And then the turnpike he'd turn in And sneak his way back home ag'in! Some folks hint, and I make no doubt, That that's what wBore his old wife out Toilin' away from day to day And year to year, through heat and cold, Uncomplainin'- the same old way The martyrs died in the days of old; And a-clingin', too, as the martyrs done, To one fixed faith. and her o/ly one,l,ittle Patience, the sweetest child IThat ev-er wIept unrickonciled, 14 IO3 SQUIRE HA WKINS'S S TORY Er felt the pain and the ache and sting That only a mother's death can bring. Patience Thompson!- I think that name Nlust a-come from a power above, Fer it seemed to fit her jest the same As a gaiter would, er a fine kid glove! And to see that girl, with all the care Of the household on her-I de-clare It was oiidacious, the work she'd do, And the thousand plans that she'd putt through; And sing like a medder-lark all day long, And drownd her cares in the joys o' song; And laziigl sometimes tel the farmer's "hand," Away fur off in the fields, would stand A-listenin', with the plow half drawn, Tel the coaxin' echoes called him on; And the furries seemed, in his dreamy eyes, Like footpaths a-leadin' to Paradise, As off through the hazy atmosphere The call fer dinner reached his ear. Now love's as cunnin' a little thing As a hummin'-bird upon the wing, 0o4 SQUIRE HA WKINS'S S TOkR' And as liable to poke his nose Jest where folks would least suppose,And more'n likely build his nest Right in the heart you'd leave unguessed, And live and thrive at your expenseAt least, that's miy experience. And old Jeff Thompson often thought, In his se'fish way, that the quiet John Was a stiddy chap, as a farm-hand oughl To always be,- fer the airliest dawn Found John busy-and "easy," too, Whenever his wages would fall due!To sum him up with a final touch, He eat so little and worked so much, That old Jeff laughed to hisse'f and said, He makes me money and aimrns his bread!" But John, fer all of his quietude, Would sometimes drap a word er so That none but Patience understood, And none but her was meant to know! - Mayby at meal-times John would say, As the sugar-bowl come down his way, Io5 SQ SUIRE HA WAINS'S S 7Y02 Y "Thanky, no; ily coffee's sweet Enough fer me! " with sich conceit, She'd know at once, without no doubt, He meant because she poured it out; And smile and blush, and all sich stuff, And ast ef it was "strong enough?" And git the answer, neat and trim, "It could n~' be too'strong' fer him/! " And so things went fer'bout a year, Tel John, at last, found pluck to go And pour his tale in the old man's ear And ef it had been hot lead, I know It could n't a-raised a louder fuss, Ner a-riled the old man's temper wuss! He jest lit in, and cussed and swore, And lunged and rared, and ripped and tore, And told John jest to leave his door, And not to darken it no more! But Patience cried, with eyes all wet, Remember, John, and don't ferget, [Vhalever comes, I love you yet!" But the old man thought, in his se'fish way, I'11 see her married rich some day; Io6 SQUIRE~ HA WKINS'S ST$ OR Y And tliat," thinks he, "is money fer nieAnd my will's law, as it ought to be!" So when, in the course of a month er so, A widtower, with a farm er two, Comes to Jeff's, w'y, the folks, you know, Had to talk -as the folks'11 do: It was the talk of the neighberhoodPatfience and John, and their affairs; And this old chap with a few gray hairs Had "cut John out," it was understood. And some folks reckoned "Patience, too, Knowed what she was a-goin' to doIt was like her-la! indeed! - All she loved was dollars and centsLike old Jeff-and they saw no need Fer John to pine at her negligence!" But others said, in a kinder way, They missed the songs she used to singThey missed the smiles that used to play Over her face, and the laughin' ring Of her glad voice-that everything Io7 los SQUIRE HA WKIA;S'S STORY Of her old se'f seemed dead and gone, And this was the ghost that they gazed on! Tel finally it was noised about There was a weddin' soon to be Down at Jeff's; and the "cat was out" Shore enough! -'L1 the Jee-mun-nee! It riled me when John told me so,Fer I was a friend a' John's, you know; And his trimblin' voice jest broke in two As a feller's voice'11 sometimes do.And I says, says I, "Ef I know my biz And I think I know whatjestice is,I've read some law - and I'd advise A man like you to wipe his eyes, And square his jaws and start ag'in, Ferjestice is a-goiz' to win!" And it was n't long tel his eyes had cleared As blue as the skies, and the sun appeared In the shape of a good, old-fashioned smile That I had n't seen fer a long, long while. So we talked on fer a' hour er more, And sunned ourselves in the open door, SQUI RE HA4 WIKVS'S STORY Tel a hoss-and-buggy down the road Come a-drivin' up, that I guess John knowed,Fer he winked and says, "I'11 dessappear77Yey'd smell a mice ef they saw ige here!" And he thumbed his nose at the old gray mare, And hid hisse'f in the house somewhere. WAVell.-The rig drove up: and I raised my head As old Jeff hollered to me and said That "him and his old friend there had come To see ef the squire was at home." . I told'em "I was; and I aimed to be At every chance of a weddin'-fee!" And then I laughed-and they laughed, too, Fer that was the object they had in view. "Would I be on hands at eight that night?" They ast; and's-I, "You're mighty right, I'/ be on hands!" And then I bu'st Out a-laughin' my very wu'st, And so did they, as they wheeled away And drove to'rds town in a cloud o' dust. Then I shet the door, and me and John Laughed and laugzied, and jest laug,hed on, IO9 I i o SQUIRE HA VA"IzVS'S S TOR Y Tel Mother drapped her specs, and by Jeewhillikers/ I thought she'd die!And she could n't a-told, I'11 bet my hat, WVhat on earth she was laughin' at! But all o' the fun o' the tale hain't done!Fer a drizzlin' rain had jest begun, And a-havin''bout four mile' to ride, I jest concluded I'd better light Out fer Jeff's and save my hide,Fer it was a-goiflz' to storm, that night./ So we went down to the barn, and John Saddled my beast, and I got on; And he told me somepin' to not ferget, And when I left, he was lallzhiiz' yet. And,'proachin' on to my journey's end, The great big draps o' the rain come down, And the thunder growled in a way to lend An awful look to the lowerin' frown The dull sky wore; and the lightnin' glanced Tel my old mare jest miore'z pranced, And tossed her head, and bugged her eyes To about four times their natchurl size, SQ UIREi HA WAVS' S S TOR YI As the big black lips of the clouds'ud drap Out some oath of a thunder-clap, And threaten on in an undertone That chilled a feller clean to the bone! But I struck shelter soon enough To save myse'f. And the house was jammed With the women-folks, and the weddin'-stuff:A great, long table, fairly crammed With big pound-cakes-and chops and steaks And roasts and stews-and stumick-aches Of every fashion, form, and size, From twisters up to punkin-pies! And candies, oranges, and figs, And reezins,- all the "whilligigs" And "jim-cracks" that the law allows On sich occasions!- Bobs and bows Of gigglin' girls, with corkscrew curls, And fancy ribbons, reds and blues, And "beau-ketchers" and "curliques" To beat the world! And seven o'clock Brought old Jeff; - and brought-the groom,With a sideboard-collar on, and stock That choked him so, he had n't room .3 I I I SQUIR~ HA IAVKAS' S S TORY To swaller in, er even sneeze, Er clear his th'oat with any ease Er comfort-and a good square cough Would saw his Adam's-apple off! But as fer Patience-My! Oomh-oomh!I never saw her look so sweet!Her face was cream and roses, too; And then them eyes o' heavenly blue Jest made an angel all complete! And when she split'em up in smiles And splintered'em around the room, And danced acrost and met the groom, And laughed out loud- It kind o' spiles My language when I come to that Fer, as she laid away his hat, Thinks I, "TShe papers hid inside Of thlat said hat mzust iake a bride A happy one fer all her life, Er else a wrecked and wretched wife!" And, someway, then, I thought of John, Then looked to'rds P]tience.... She was gone!The door stood open, and the rain WAas dashin' in; and sharp and plain I I2 SQUIRE HA WKIINS'S STORY Above the storm we heerd a cryA ringin', laughin', loud "Good-by!" That died away, as fleet and fast A hoss's hoofs went splashin' past! And that was all.'T was done that quick!... You've heerd o' fellers "lookin' sick"? I wisht you'd seen the groovm jest then I wisht you'd seen them two old men, WNith starin' eyes that fairly glared At one another, and the scared And empty faces of the crowd,I wisht you could a-been allowed To jest look on and see it all,And heerd the girls and women bawl And wring their hands; and heerd old Jeff A-cussin' as he swung hisse'f Utpon his hoss, who champed his bit As though old Nick had holt of it: And cheek by jowl the two old wrecks Rode off as though they'd break their necks. And as we all stood starin' out Into the night, I felt the brush II3 114 SQUIRE HtA VKINS'S S7'ORY Of some one's hand, and turned about, And heerd a voice that whispered, "'h-sh/!They're waitin' in the kitcheen, and You're lan/ted. Don'tyozu understand? Well, ef my memzory serves me now, I think I winked. -Well, anyhow, I left the crowd a-gawkin' there, And jest slipped off around to where The back-door opened, and went in, And turned and shet the door ag'in, And mayby locked it-could n't swear,A woman's arms around me makes Me liable to make mistakes.I read a marriage license nex', But as I did n't have my specs I jest inferred it was all right, And tied the knot so mortal-tight That Patience and my old friend John Was safe enough from that time on! WAVell now I might go on and tell How all the joke at last leaked out, And how the youngsters raised the yell And rode the happy groom about SQ UIL'k HA WAVIAS'S S [OR )' Upon their shoulders; how the bride l7as kissed a hunderd times beside The one Z give her,- tel she cried And laughed untel she like to died! I might go on and tell you all About the supper- and the ba/Z.You'd ought to see me twist my heel Through jest one old Furginny reel Afore you die! er tromp the strings Of some old fiddle tel she sings Some old cowtillion, don't you know, That putts the devil in yer toe! We kep' the dancin' up tel four O'clock, I reckon - mayby more.We hardly heerd the thunders roar, Er tloug'tIi about the storm that blowedAnd tlieml twzco fellers on /he road! Tel all at onc't we heerd the door 3u'st open, and a voice that swoore,And old Jeff Thompson tuck the floor. He shuck hisse'f and looked around Like some old dog about half-drown'dHi's hat, I reckon, zet,heaied ten posound I15 SQUIRE tA IVAIVNS'S S TORY To say the least, and I'11 say, shore, His ozercoti weighced fify more The zo.elest flag yolu ever sawc, To hazve so dry a sonz-i-law! He sized it all; and Patience laid Her hand in John's, and looked afraid, And waited. And a stiller set O' folks, I kiow, you never met In any court-room, where with dread They wait to hear a verdick read. The old man turned his eyes on me: And have you married'em?" says he. I nodded "Yes." "Well, that'11 do," He says, "and now we're th'ough with youz, You jest clear out, and I decide And promise to be satisfied!" He had n't nothin' more to say. I saw, of course, how matters lay, And left. But as I rode away I heerd the roosters crow fer day. I I6 DEAD SELVES How many of my selves are dead? The ghosts of many haunt me: Lo, The baby in the tiny bed With rockers on, is blanketed And sleeping in the long ago; And so I ask, with shaking head, How many of my selves are dead? A little face with drowsy eyes And lisping lips comes mistily From out the faded past, and tries The prayers a mother breathed with sighs Of anxious care in teaching me; But face and form and prayers have fled How many of my selves are dead? The little naked feet that slipped In truant paths, and led the way Through dead'ning pasture-lands, and tripped O'er tangled poison-vines, and dipped In streams forbidden-where are they? In vain I listen for their treadHow many of my selves are dead? 117 DE.AD SEL VES The awkward boy the teacher caught Inditing letters filled with love, Who was compelled, for all he fought, To read aloud each tender thought Of "Sugar Lump" and "Turtle Dove.". I wonder where he hides his head How many of my selves are dead? The earnest features of a youth With manly fringe on lip and chin, With eager tongue to tell the truth, To offer love and life, forsooth, So brave was he to woo and win; A prouder man was never wedHow many of my selves are dead? The great, strong hands so all-inclined To welcome toil, or smooth the care From mother-brows, or quick to find A leisure-scrap of any kind, To toss the baby in the air, Or clap at babbling things it saidHow many of my selves are dead? I IS DE~AD SEL VES The pact of brawn and scheming brainConspiring in the plots of wealth, Still delving, till the lengthened chain, Unwindlassed in the mines of gain, Recoils with dregs of ruined health And pain and poverty insteadHow many of my selves are dead? The faltering step, the faded hairHead, heart and soul, all echoing WIith maundering fancies that declare That life and love were never there, Nor ever joy in anything, Nor wounded heart that ever bledHow many of my selves are dead? So many of my selves are dead, That, bending here above the brink Of my last grave, with dizzy head, I find my spirit comforted, For all the idle things I think: It can but be a peaceful bed, Since all my other selves are dead. I I9 16 IN SWIIMMING-TIME CLOUDS above, as white as wool, Drifting over skies as blue As the eyes of beautiful Children when they smile at you; Groves of maple, elm, and beech, Writh the sunshine sifted through Branches, mingling each with each, Dim with shade and bright with dew; Stripling trees, and poplars hoar, Hickory and sycamore, And the drowsy dogwood bowed Where the ripples laugh aloud, And the crooning creek is stirred To a gaiety that now Mlates the warble of the bird Teetering on the hazel-bough; Grasses long and fine and fair As your schoolboy sweetheart's hair, 120 IN S lVTIL}IVG- TI~iE Backward roached and twirled and twined By the fingers of the wind; Vines and mosses, interlinked DI)own dark aisles and deep ravines, WAhere the stream runs, willow-brinked, Round a bend where some one leans Faint and vague and indistinct As the like reflected thing In the current shimmering. Childish voices farther on, Where the truant stream has gone, Vex the echoes of the wood Till no word is understood, Save that one is well aware Happiness is hiding there. There, in leafy coverts, nude Little bodies poise and leap, Spattering the solitude And the silence everywhere Mimic monsters of the deep! Wallowing in sandy shoals Plunging headlong out of sight; And, with spurtings of delight, Clutching hands, and slippery soles, I 2 1 I2zV S W1I.LI3ILVG- TIhIE Climbing up the treacherous steep Over which the spring-board spurns Each again as he returns. Ah! the glorious carnival! Purple lips and chattering teeth Eyes that burn -but, in beneath, Every care beyond recall, Every task forgotten quite And again, in dreams at night, Dropping, drifting through it all! 1 22 SONG OF THE BULLET IT whizzed and whistled along the blurred And red-blent ranks; and it nicked the star Of an epaulette, as it snarled the word War! On it sped-and the lifted wrist Of the ensign-bearer stung, and straight Dropped at his side as the word was hissed Hate! On went the missile-smoothed the blue Of a jaunty cap and the curls thereof, Cooing, soft as a dove might do Love! Sang! - sang on! - sang hate- sang war Sang love, in sooth, till it needs must cease, Hushed in the heart it was questing for. Peace! 123 DEAD, MY LORDS DEAD, my lords and gentlemen! - Stilled the tongue, and stayed the pen; Cheek unflushed and eye unlitDone with life, and glad of it. Curb your praises now as then: Dead, my lords and gentlemen.What he wrought found its reward In the tolerance of the Lord. Ye who fain had barred his path, Dread ye now this look he hath?Dead, my lords and gentlemenDare ye not smile back again? Low he lies, yet high and great Looms he, lying thus in state. How exalted o'er ye when Dead, my lords and gentlemen! I24 HOIMF AGAIN I'MI bin a-visitun'bout a week To my little Cousin's at Nameless Creek; An' I'm got the hives an' a new straw hat, An' I'm come back home where my beau lives at. T25 A SEA-SONG FROM THE SHORE HAIL! Ho! Sail! Ho! Ahoy! Ahoy! Ahoy! Who calls to me, So far at sea? Only a little boy! Sail! Ho! Hail! Ho! The sailor he sails the sea: I wish he would capture And send him home to me. I wish, as he sails Through the tropical gales, He would catch me a sea-bird, too, With its silver wings And the song it sings, And its breast of down and dew! I26 a little sea-horse A SEA-SONG FROM THE SHORE I wish he would catch me a Little mermaid, Some island where he lands, With her dripping curls, And her crown of pearls, And the looking-glass in her hands! Hail! Ho! Sail! Ho! Sail far o'er the fabulous main. And if I were a sailor, I'd sail with you, Though I never sailed back again. 17 127 A ]3BOY'S MOTHER MY Mother she's so good to me, Ef I wuz good as I could be, I could n't be as good-no, sir!/ — Can't any boy be good as her.! She loves me when I'm glad er sad; She loves me when I'm good er bad; An', what's a funniest thing, she says She loves me when she punishes. 128 A BOY'S MOTHER I don't like her to punish me.Tial don't hurt,- but it hurts to see Her cryin'.- Nen I cry; an' nen WVe both cry an' be good again. She loves me when she cuts an' sews My little cloak an' Sund'y clothes; An' when my Pa comes home to tea, She loves him most as much as me. She laughs an' tells him all I said, An' grabs me up an' pats my head; An' I hug her, an' hug my Pa, An' love him purt'-nigh much as Ma. I29 I'.2_-.~ ~Li~:,L L , —— ~,~,....~~~-t THE RUNAWAY BOY WUNST I sassed my Pa, an' he Won't stand that, an' punished me,Nen when he wuz gone that day, I slipped out an' runned away. I tooked all my copper-cents, An' clumbed over our back fence In the jimpson-weeds'at growed Ever'where all down the road. 130 THE R UVA WA Y- B 0 Y Nen I got out there, an' nen I runned some-an' runned again, When I met a man'at led A big cow'at shooked her head. I went down a long, long lane Where wuz little pigs a-play'n'; An' a grea'-big pig went "Booh!" An' jumped up, an' skeered me too. Nen I scampered past, an' they Was somebody hollered "Hey!" An' I ist looked ever'where, An' they wuz nobody there. I want to, but I'm'fraid to try To go back.... An' by-an'-by Somepin' hurts my th'oat insideAn' I want my Ma-an' cried. Nen a grea'-big girl come through Where's a gate, an' telled me who Am I? an' ef I tell where My home's at she'11 show me there. I3I THE R UzVA W YAY BOY But I could n't ist but tell ANWhat's my gauze,; an' she says "well," An' ist tooked me up an' says "She know where I live, she guess." Nen she telled me hug wite close Round her neck!- an' off she goes Skippin' up the street! An' nen Purty soon I'm home again. An' my Ma, when she kissed me, Kissed the big girl too, an' s/he Kissed me-ef I p'omise shore I won't run away no more! v:3 2 THE SPOILED CHILD 'CAUSE Herbert Graham's a' only child "Wuz I there, Ma?" His parunts uz got him purt'-nigh spiled "Wuz I there, Ma?" Allus ever'where his Ma tells Where s/e's bin at, little Herbert yells, "Wuz I there, Ma?" An' when she telled us wunst when she WVuz ist'bout big as him an' me, W'y, little Herbert he says, says-ee, "W Auz I there, Ma?" Foolishest young-un you ever saw."VzIz Z tlere, Ma? WIuz I teicre, Ma?a" x33 THE KIND OLD MAN THE kind old man -the mild old man Who smiled on the boys at play, Dreaming, perchance, of his own glad youth When he was as blithe and gay! And the larger urchin tossed the ball, And the lesser held the batThough the kindly old man's eyes were blurred He could even notice that! But suddenly he was shocked to hear Words that I dare not write, And he hastened, in his kindly way, To curb them as he might! '34 TEE KAZVD OLD AIA iV And he said, "Tut! tut! you naughty boy With the ball! for shame!" and then, "You boy with the bat, whack him over the head If he calls you that again!" The kind old man-the mild old man Who gazed on the boys at play, Dreaming, perchance, of his own wild youth Wvhen he was as tough as they! I35 IX8 THE BOY LINVES ON OUR FARM THE Boy lives on our Farm, he's not Afeard o' horses none! An' he can make'em lope, er trot, Er rack, er pace, er run. Sometimes he drives tE,o horses, when He comes to town an' brings A wagonful o''taters nen, An' roastin'-ears an' things. x36 THrE BOY LIVES ON OUR FARA Two horses is "a team," he says, An' when you drive er hitch, The riIit un's a "near-horse," I guess, Er "off "-I don't know which.The Boy lives on our Farm, he told Me, too,'at he can see, By lookin' at their teeth, how old A horse is, to a T! I'd be the gladdest boy alive Ef I knowed much as that, An' could stand up like him an' drive, An' ist push back my hat, Like he comes skallyhootin' through Our alley, with one arm A-wavin' Fare-ye-well! to you The Boy lives on our Farm! I37 THE DOODLE-BUGS'S CHARM WVHEN Uncle Sidney he comes here An' Fred an' me an' Min, My Ma she says she bet you yet The roof'11 tumble in! Fer Uncle he ist roJo,s with us: An' wunst, out in our shed, He telled us'bout the Doodle-Bugs, An' what they'11 do, he said, Ef you'11 ist holler "Doodle-Bugs!" Out by our garden-bed Doodle-Bugs! Doodle-Bugs! Come up an' git some bread!" "38 TIIL DOODLE- BUGS'S CIIAAARI Ain't Uncle Sidney funny man? He's childish'most as me My Ma sometimes she tells him that He ac's so foolishly! 11'y, wunst, out in our garden-path, WVite by the pie-plant bed, He all sprawled out there in the dirt An' ist scrooched down his head, An' "Doodle! Doodle! Doodle-Bugs!" My Uncle Sidney said,"Doodle-Bugs! Doodle-Bugs! Come up an' git some bread!" I39 THE DOODLE-B UGS'S CHARJi An' nen he showed us little holes All bored there in the ground, An' little weenty heaps o' dust 'At's piled there all around: An' Uncle said, when he's like us, Er purt'-nigh big as Fred, That wuz the Doodle-Bugs's Charm To call'em up, he said:"Doodle! Doodle! Doodle-Bugs!" An' they'd poke out their head "Doodle-Bugs! Doodle-Bugs! Come up an' git some bread!" I40 LITTLE COUSIN JASPER LITTLE Cousin Jasper, he Don't live in this town, like me,He lives'way to Rensselaer, An' ist comes to visit here. He says'at our courthouse-square Ain't nigh big as theirn is there!He says their town's big as four Er five towns like this, an' more! He says ef his folks moved here He'd cry to leave Rensselaer'Cause they's prairies there, an' lakes, An' wile-ducks an' rattlesnakes! Yes,'n' little Jasper's Pa Shoots most things you ever saw!WVunst he shot a deer, one day, 'At swummed off an' got away. 141 LI T TLE COUSIN JA SPER Little Cousin Jasper went An' camped out wunst in a tent Wiv his Pa, an' helt his gun While he kilt a turrapun. An' when his Ma heerd o' that, An' more things his Pa's bin at, She says, "Yes,'n' he'11 git shot 'Fore he's man-grown, like as not!" An' they's mussrats there, an' minks, An' di-dippers, an' chee-winks,Yes,'n' cal'mus-root you chew All up an''t'on't pizen you! An', in town,'s a flag-pole there Highest one'at's anywhere In this world!- wite in the street Where the big mass-meetin's meet. Yes,'n' Jasper he says they Got a brass band there, an' play On it, an' march up an' down An' all over round the town! 142 LI TTLE COUSIN JASPER WVisht our town ain't like it is! - WAVisht it's ist as big as his! WVisht'at his folks they'd move here, An' zoe'd move to Rensselaer! a%~~~~~~~~I i.. I .t I43 19 GIVE ME THE BABY GIVE me the baby to hold, my dear To hold and hug, and to love and kiss. Ah! he will come to me, never a fear Come to the nest of a breast like this, As warm for him as his face with cheer. Give me the baby to hold, my dear! Trustfully yield him to my caress. "Bother," you say? What! "a bother" to zie?To fill up my soul with such happiness As the love of a baby that laughs to be Snuggled away where my heart can hear! Give me the baby to hold, my dear! '44 GIVE lIE THE BABY Y Ah, but his hands are grimed, you say, And would soil my laces and clutch my hair.WAVell, what would pleasure me more, I pray, Than the touch and tug of the wee hands there?The wee hands there, and the warm face here - Give me the baby to hold, my dear! Give me the baby! (Oh, won't you see? ... Somewhere, out where the green of the lawn Is turning to gray, and the maple-tree Is weeping its leaves of gold upon A little mound, with a dead rose near....) Give me the baby to hold, my dear! I45 THE BEE-BAG WHEN I was ist a Brownie - a weenty-teenty Brownie Long afore I got to be like Childerns is to-day,My good old Brownie granny gimme sweeter thing'an can'y An''at's my little bee-bag the Fairies stold away! O my little bee-bag My little funny bee-bag My little honey bee-bag The Fairies stold away! x46 THE BEE-BA G One time when I bin swung in wiv annuver Brownie young-un An' lef' sleepin' in a pea-pod while our parunts went to play, I waked up ist a-cryin' an' a-sobbin' an' a-sighin' Fer my little funny bee-bag the Fairies stold away! O my little bee-bag My little funny bee-bag My little honey bee-bag The Fairies stold away! It's awful much bewilder'n', but'at's why I'm a Cli derii, Ner goin' to git to be no more a Brownie sence that day! My parunts, so imprudent, lef' me sleepin' when they should n't! An' I want my little bee-bag the Fairies stold away! O my little bee-bag My little funny bee-bag My little honey bee-bag The Fairies stold away! I47 LITTLE MARJORIE "WHERE is little Marjorie? " There's the robin in the tree, With his gallant call once more From the boughs above the door! There's the bluebird's note, and there Are spring-voices everywhere Calling, calling ceaselessly "Where is little Marjorie?" And her old playmate, the rain, Calling at the window-pane In soft syllables that win Not her answer from within 148 LI TTLE AIARJORIE "Where is little Marjorie? " Or is it the rain, ah me! Or wild gusts of tears that were Calling us-not calling her! "Where is little Marjorie?" Oh, in high security She is hidden from the reach Of all voices that beseech: She is where no troubled word, Sob or sigh is ever heard, Since God whispered tenderly"Where is little Marjorie?" 149 "I -Id - I,"i'. 9 g, fT,;z'... THE TRULY MARVELOUS GIUNTS is the biggest mens they air In all this world er anywhere! - An' Tom Thumb he's the most little-est man, 'Cause wunst he lived in a oyshture-can! 15. And.~~~~~~~~ 'MIONGST THE HILLS O' SOMERSET 'MONGST the Hills o' Somerset WAisht I was a-roamin' yet! My feet won't get usen to These low lands I'm trompin' through. Wisht I could go back there, and Stroke the long grass with my hand, Kind o' like my sweetheart's hair Smoothed out underneath it there! WVisht I could set eyes once more On our shadders, on before, Climbin', in the airly dawn, Up the slopes'at love growed on Natchurl as the violet 'Mongst the Hills o' Somerset! 151 20 152'MONGST THE HILLS O' SOAFERSET How't'u'd rest a man like me Jest fer'bout an hour to be Up there where the morning air Could reach out and ketch me there!Snatch my breath away, and then Rensh and give it back again Fresh as dew, and smellin' of The old pinks I ust to love, And a-flavor'n' ever' breeze WAVith mixt hints o' mulberries And May-apples, from the thick Bottom-lands along the crick Where the fish bit, dry er wet, 'Mongst the Hills o' Somerset! Like a livin' pictur' things All comes back: the bluebird swings In the maple, tongue and bill Trillin' glory fit to kill! In the orchard, jay and bee Ripens the first pears fer me, And the "Prince's Harvest " they Tumble to me where I lay 'MOA'GST THE HILLS O' SOMERSET I53 In the clover, provin' still "A boy's will is the wind's will." Clean fergot is time, and care, And thick hearin', and gray hair But they's nothin' I ferget 'Mongst the Hills o' Somerset! Middle-aged-to be edzact, Vers, middle-aged, in fact,Yet a-thinkin' back to then, I'm the same wild boy again! There's the dear old home once more, And there's Mother at the doorDead, I know, fer thirty year', Yet she's singin', and I hear; And there's Jo, and Mary Jane, And Pap, comin' up the lane! Dusk's a-fallin'; and the dew, 'Pears like, it's a-fallin' tooDreamin' we're all livin' yet 'Mongst the Hills o' Somerset! OLD JOHN HENRY OLD John's jes' made o' the commonest stuff Old John HenryHe's tough, I reckon,- but none too toughToo tough though's better than not enough! Says old John Henry. He does his best, and when his best's bad, He don't fret none, ner he don't git sadHe simply'lows it's the best he had: Old John Henry! His doctern's jes' o' the plainest brand Old John HenryA smilin' face and a hearty hand 'S religen'at all folks understand, Says old John Henry. x54 OLD JOHN HENRY He's stove up some with the rhumatiz, And they hain't no shine on them shoes o' his, And his hair hain't cut- but his eye-teeth is: Old John Henry! He feeds hisse'f when the stock's all fed - Old John HenryAnd sleeps like a babe when he goes to bed - And dreams o' heaven and home-made bread, Says old John Henry. He hain't refined as he'd ort to be To fit the statutes o' poetry, Ner his clothes don't fit him -but he fits me: Old John Henry! 155 ., I... * ..., I MY FIRST SPECTACLES AT first I laughed-for it was quite An oddity to see My reflex looking from the glass Through spectacles at me. But as I gazed I really found They so improved my sight That many wrinkles in my face Were mixed with my delight; And many streaks of silver, too, Were gleaming in my hair, With quite a hint of baldness that I never dreamed was there. 15( MY FIR S T SPE C TA CLES And as I readjusted them And winked in slow surprise, A something like a mist had come Between them and my eyes. And, peering vainly still, the old Optician said to me, The while he took them from my nose And wiped them hastily: "Jest now, of course, your eyes is apt To water some -but where Is any man's on earth that won't The first he has to wear?" I57 SCOTTY SCOTTY'S dead.- Of course he is! Jes' that same old luck of his! - Ever sence we went cahoots He's be'n first, you bet yer boots! When our schoolin' first begun, Got two whippin's to my one: Stold and smoked the first cigar: Stood up first before the bar, Takin' whisky-straight-and me Wastin' time on "blackberry"! Beat me in the Army, too, And clean on the whole way through!In more scrapes around the camp, And more troubles, on the tramp: Fought and fell there by my side With more bullets in his hide, I58 Sco TTI And more glory in the cause,That's the kind o' man he was! Luck liked Scotty more'n me.Z got married: Scotty, he Never even would apply Fer the pension-money I Had to beg of "Uncle Sam "That's the kind o' cuss am! Scotty allus first and bestMe the last and ornriest! Yit fer all that's said and doneAll the battles fought and wonWe hain't prospered, him ner meBoth as pore as pore could be,Though we've allus, up tel now, Stuck together anyhowScotty allus, as I've said, Luckiest-And now he's dead! I59 21 MY WHITE BREAD DE,I good old days done past and gone In old Ca'line wha I wuz bo'n WV'en my old Misst'ess she fust said, "Yo's a-eatin' yo' white bread!" Oh, dem's de times uts done gone by W'en de nights shine cla, an' de coon clim' high, An' I sop my soul in'possum-pie, Das a-eatin' my white bread! Its dem's de nights ut I cross my legs An' pat de flo' ez I twis' de pegs O' de banjo up twil de gals all said, "Yo's a-eatin' yo' white bread!" I6o iIY WHVITE BREAD Oh, dem's de times ut I usen fo' to blow On de long reeds cut in de old by-o, An' de frogs jine in like dey glad fo' to know I's a-eatin' my white bread. An' I shet my eyes fo' to conjuh up Dem good ole days ut fills my cup Wid de times ut fust ole Misst'ess said, "Yo's a-eatin' yo' white bread!" Oh, dem's de dreams ut I fines de best; An' bald an' gray ez a hornet's nest, I drap my head on de good Lord's breast, Says a-eatin' my white bread! i6i BACK FROM TOWNN OLD friends allus is the best, Halest-like and heartiest: Knowed us first, and don't allow We're so blame much better now! They was standin' at the bars When we grabbed "the kivvered kyars" And lit out fer town, to make Money-and that old mistake! We thought then the world we went Into beat "The Settlement," And the friends'at we'd make there Would beat any anywhere! And they do-fer that's their biz: They beat all the friends they is'Cept the raal old friends like you 'At staid home, like I't ort to! 162 BA CA' ER OA 70 WNv W'y, of all the good things yit I ain't shet of, is to quit Business, and git back to sheer These old comforts waitin' here These old friends; and these old hands 'At a feller understands; These old winter nights, and old Young-folks chased in out the cold! Sing "Hard Times'11 come ag'in No More!" and neighbers all jine in! Here's a feller come from town Wants that-air old fiddle down From the chimbly! - Git the floor Cleared fer one cowtillion more! - It's poke the kitchen-fire, says he, And shake a friendly leg with me! I63 A MAN BY THE NAME OF BOLUS A IAN by the name of Bolus -(all'at we'11 ever know Of the stranger's name, I reckon-and I'm kind o' glad it's so' )Got off here, Christmas morning, looked'round the town, and then Kind o' sized up the folks, I guess, and-went away again! The fac's is, this man Bolus got "run in," Christmas day; The town turned out to see it, and cheered, and blocked the way; And thev dragged him'fore the Mayor- fer he could n't er w~,outld ii't walk And socked him down fer trial - though he could n't er 7',ouh/l ii'l talk! T64 A AN,V BY THE NAIE OF BOL US I65 Drunk? They was no doubt of it! - W'y, the marshal of the town Laughed and testified'at he fell zip-stairs'stid o' doWIl. This man by the name of Bolus?-IW'y, he even drapped his jaw And snored on through his "hearin'"-drunk as you ever saw! One feller spit in his boot-leg, and another'n' drapped a small Little chunk o' ice down his collar,-but he did n't wake at all! And they all nearly split when his Honor said, in one of his witty ways, To "chalk it down fer him,'Called away-be back in thirty days!'" That's where this man named Bolus slid, kind o' like in a fit, Flat on the floor; and-drat my ears! I hear'em a-laughin' yit! Somebody fetched Doc Sifers from jest acrost the hall — And all Doc said was, "Morphine! We're too late!" and that's all! i66 XI AfA1zV BY 7HE NAWME OF BOLUS That's how they found his name out- piece of a letter 'at read: "Your wife has lost her reason, and little Nathan's dead Come ef you kin,-fergive her- but, Bolus, as fer me, This hour I send a bullet through where my heart ort to be!" Man by thze name of ]Bolus!-As his revilers broke Fer the open air,'peared-like, to me, I heerd a voice 'at spokeMaln by the name of Bolus!,,it up from where you layGit up and smile white at'em, with your hands crossed thatawlaly / OLD CHUNIMS IF I die first," my old chum paused to say, "Mind! not a whimper of regret;-instead, Laugh and be glad, as I shall.- Being dead, I shall not lodge so very far away But that our mirth shall mingle.- So, the day The word comes, joy with me." "I'11 try," I said, Though, even speaking, sighed and shook my head And turned, with misted eyes. His roundelay Rang gaily on the stair; and then the door Opened and- closed.... Yet something of the clear, Hale hope, and force of wholesome faith he had Abided with me-strengthened more and more.Then-then they brought his broken body here: And I laughed whisperingly-and we were glad. 167 WHAT A DEAD MAN SAID HEAR what a dead man said to me. His lips moved not, and the eyelids lay Shut as the leaves of a white rose may Ere the wan bud blooms out perfectly; And the lifeless hands they were stiffly crossed As they always cross them over the breast When the soul goes nude and the corpse is dressed; And over the form, in its long sleep lost, From forehead down to the pointed feet That peaked the foot of the winding-sheet, Pallid patience and perfect rest.It was the voice of a dream, may be, But it seemed that the dead man said to me: "I, indeed, am the man that died Yesternight-and you weep for this; I68 WVHAT A DEAD AlAN SAID But, lo, I am with you, side by side, As we have walked when the summer sun Made the smiles of our faces one, And touched our lips with the same warm kiss. Do not doubt that I tell you trueI am the man you once called friend, And caught my hand when I came to you, And loosed it only because the end Of the path I walked of a sudden stoppedAnd a dead man's hand must needs be droppedAnd I-though it's strange to think so nowt have wept, as you weep for me, And pressed hot palms to my aching brow And moaned through the long night ceaselessly. Yet have I lived to forget my pain, As you will live to be glad again Though never so glad as this hour am I, Tasting a rapture of delight Vast as the heavens are infinite, And dear as the hour I came to die. Living and loving, I dreamed my cup Brimmed sometimes, and with marvelings I have lifted and tipped it up And drank to the dregs of all sweet things. I69 WH!A T A D~A 1D A~AV SAID Living,'t was but a ireamz of bliss Now I realize all it is; And now my only shadow of grief Is that I may not give relief Unto those living and dreaming on, And woo them graveward, as I have gone, And show death's loveliness,-for they Shudder and shrink as they walk this way, Never dreaming that all they dread Is their purest delight when dead." Thus it was, or it seemed to be, That the voice of the dead man spoke to me. x7o CUORED O' SKEERIN' 'LISH, you rickollect that-air Dad-burn skittish old bay mare Was no livin' with! -'at skeerd 'T ever'thing she seed er heerd!Th'owed'Ves' Anders, and th'owed Pap, First he straddled her- k-slapt /And Izory well!- th'owed her Hain't no tellin' jest how fur!Broke her collar-bone - and might Jest'a' kilt the gyrl outright! Course I'd heerd'em make their boast She th'ow any feller,'most, Ever topped her! S' I, "I know One man'at she'11 never th'ow!" '7I CUORED O' SkE~ERIN' So I rid her in to mill, And, jest comin' round the hill, Met a traction-engize!- Ort Jest'a' heerd that old mare snort, And lay back her yeers, and see Her a-tryin' to th'ow me! Course I never said a word, But thinks I, "My ladybird, You'11 git cuored, right here and now, Of yer dy-does anyhow!" So I stuck her - tel she'd jest Done her very level best; Then I slides off- strips the lines Over her fool-head, and finds Me a little saplin'-gad, 'Side the road: -And there we had Our own fun! -jest wore her out! Mounted her, and faced about, And jest made her nose that-air Little traction-engine there! t72 YOUR VIOLIN YOUR violin! Ah me! 'T was fashioned o'er the sea, In storied Italy What matter where? It is its voice that sways And thrills me as it plays The airs of other days The days that were! Then let your magic bow Glide lightly to and fro.I close my eyes, and so, In vast content, I kiss my hand to you, And to the tunes we knew Of old, as well as to Your instrument! Poured out of some dim dream Of lulling sounds that seem x73 YOUR VIOLIA Like ripples of a stream Twanged lightly by The slender, tender hands Of weeping-willow wands That droop where gleaming sands And pebbles lie. A melody that swoons In all the truant tunes Long listless afternoons Lure from the breeze, WVhen woodland boughs are stirred, And moaning doves are heard, And laughter afterward Beneath the trees. Through all the chorusing, I hear on leaves of spring The drip and pattering Of April skies, With echoes faint and sweet As baby-angel feet Might wake along a street Of Paradise. 1 74 TO A SKULL TURN your face this way; I'm not weary of itEvery hour of every day More and more I love it Grinning in that jolly guise Of bare bones and empty eyes! Was this hollow dome, Where I tap my finger, Once the spirit's narrow home Where you loved to linger, Hiding, as to-day are we, From the self-same destiny? O'er and o'er again Have I put the queryWas existence so in vain That you look so cheery? 23 I75 TO A SKULL Death of such a benefit That you smile, possessing it? Did your throbbing brow Tire of all the flutter Of such fancyings as now You, at last, may utter In that grin so grimly bland Only death can understand? Has the shallow glee Of old dreams of pleasure Left you ever wholly free To float out, at leisure, O'er the shoreless, trackless trance Of unsounded circumstance? Only this I read In your changeless features,You, at least, have gained a meed Held from living creatures: You have naught to ask.-Beside, You do grin so satisfied! 176 A VISION OF SUMMER 'T WAS a marvelous vision of Summer. That morning the dawn was late, And came, like a long dream-ridden guest, Through the gold of the Eastern gate. Languid it came, and halting, As one that yawned, half roused, With lifted arms and indolent lids And eyes that drowsed and drowsed. A glimmering haze hung over The face of the smiling air; And the green of the trees and the blue of the leas And the skies gleamed everywhere. And the dewdrops' dazzling jewels, In garlands and diadems, Lightened and twinkled and glanced and shot As the glints of a thousand gems: 177 A VISION OF S UAIAIER Emeralds of dew on the grasses; The rose with rubies set; On the lily, diamonds; and amethysts Pale on the violet. And there were the pinks of the fuchsias, And the peony's crimson hue, The lavender of the hollyhocks, And the morning-glory's blue: The purple of the pansy bloom, And the passionate flush of the face Of the velvet-rose; and the thick perfume Of the locust every place. The air and the sun and the shadows Were wedded and made as one; And the winds ran over the meadows As little children run: And the winds poured over the meadows And along the willowy way The river ran, with its ripples shod WVith the sunshine of the day: 178 A VISIONV OF SUMAMfER 0 the winds flowed over the meadows In a tide of eddies and calms, And the bared brow felt the touch of it As a sweetheart's tender palms. And the lark went palpitating Up through the glorious skies, His song spilled down from the blue profound As a song from Paradise. And here was the loitering current Stayed by a drift of sedge And sodden logs-scummed thick with the gold Of the pollen from edge to edge. The catbird piped in the hazel, And the harsh kingfisher screamed, And the crane, in amber and oozy swirls, Dozed in the reeds and dreamed. And in through the tumbled driftage And the tangled roots below, The waters warbled and gurgled and lisped Like the lips of long ago. I 79 A VISION OF SUMiI~ER And the senses caught, through the music, Twinkles of dabbling feet, And glimpses of faces in coverts green, And voices faint and sweet. And back from the lands enchanted Where my earliest mirth was born, The trill of a laugh was blown to me Like the blare of an elfin horn. Again I romped through the clover; And again I lay supine On grassy swards, where the skies, like eyes, Looked lovingly back in mine. And over my vision floated Misty illusive thingsTrailing strands of the gossamer On heavenward wanderings: Figures that veered and wavered, Luring the sight, and then Glancing away into nothingness, And blinked into shape again. I8o A VISION OF S UIAIER From out far depths of the forest, Ineffably sad and lorn, Like the yearning cry of a long-lost love, The moan of the dove was borne. And through lush glooms of the thicket The flash of the redbird's wings On branches of star-white blooms that shook And thrilled with its twitterings. Through mossy and viny vistas, Soaked ever with deepest shade, Dimly the dull owl stared and stared From his bosky ambuscade. And up through the rifted tree-tops That signaled the wayward breeze, I saw the hulk of the hawk becalmed Far out on the azure seas. Then sudden an awe fell on me, As the hush of the golden day Rounded to noon, as a May to June That a lover has dreamed away. I8I ,4A ISIOIV OF S UMlIER And I heard, in the breathless silence, And the full, glad light of the sun, The tinkle and drip of a timorous shower Ceasing as it begun. And my thoughts, like the leaves and grasses In a rapture of joy and pain, Seemed fondled and petted and beat upon With a tremulous patter of rain. I82 BEREAVED LET me come in where you sit weeping,-aye, Let me, who have not any child to die, WAVeep with you for the little one whose love I have known nothing of. The little arms that slowly, slowly loosed Their pressure round your neck; the hands you used To kiss.- Such arms- such hands I never knew. May I not weep with you? Fain would I be of service-say some thing, Between the tears, that would be comforting,But ah! so sadder than yourselves am I, Who have no child to die. I183 24 A SONG OF THE CRUISE O THE sun and the rain, and the rain and the sun! There'11 be sunshine again when the tempest is done; And the storm will beat back when the shining is pastBut in some happy haven we'11 anchor at last. Then murmur no more, In lull or in roar, But smile and be brave till the voyage is o'er. O the rain and the sun, and the sun and the rain! WNhen the tempest is done, then the sunshine again; And in rapture we'11 ride through the stormiest gales, For God's hand's on the helm and His breath in the sails. Then murmur no more, In lull or in roar, But smile and be brave till the voyage is o'er. T84 THE DEAD WIFE ALWAYS I see her in a saintly guise Of lilied raiment, white as her own brow When first I kissed the teardrops to the eyes That smile forever now. Those gentle eyes! They seem the same to me, As, looking through the warm dews of mine own, I see them gazing downward patiently WNhere, lost and all alone In the great emptiness of night, I bow And sob aloud for one returning touch Of the dear hands that, Heaven having now, I need so much- so much! I85 SOMEDAY SOMEDAY: -So many tearful eyes Are watching for thy dawning light; So many faces toward the skies Are weary of the night! So many failing prayers that reel And stagger upward through the storm, And yearning hands that reach and feel No pressure true and warm. So many hearts whose crimson wine Is wasted to a purple stain And blurred and streaked with drops of brine Upon the lips of Pain. Oh, come to them! -these weary ones! Or if thou still must bide a while, Make stronger yet the hope that runs Before thy coming smile: And haste and find them where they wait Let summer-winds blow down that way, And all they long for, soon or late, Bring round to them, Someday. I86 CLOSE THE BOOK CLOSE the book, and leave the tale All unfinished. It is best: Brighter fancy will not fail To relate the rest. WAVe have read it on and on, Till each character, in sooth, By the master-touches drawn, Is a living truth. Leave it so, and let us sit, With the volume laid awayCut no other leaf of it, But as Fancy may. Then the friends that we have met In its pages will endure, And the villain, even yet, May be white and pure. Close the book, and leave the tale All unfinished. It is best: Brighter fancy will not fail To relate the rest. 187