1THE VAGABONDS. BY J. T. TROWBRIDGE. WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY F. O. C. DARLEY. RE-PRINTED FROM THE ATLANTIC MONTHLY. NEW YORK: JAMES G. GREGORY, 46, WALKER STREET. M.DCCC.LXIII. C. A. ALTORD, PRI'NTER. THE VAGABONDS. WE are two travellers, Roger and I. Roger's my dog.-Come here, you scamp! Jump for the gentlemen,-mind your eye! Over the table,-look out for the lamp!The rogue is growing a little old; Five years we've tramped through wind and weather, And slept out-doors when nights were cold, And ate and drankl-and starved-together. THE VAGABONDS. We've learned what comfort is, I tell you! A bed on the floor, a bit of rosin, A fire to thaw our' thumbs (poor fellow! The paw he holds up there's been frozen), Plenty of catgut for my fiddle (This out-door business is bad for strings), Then a few nice buckwheats hot from the griddle, And Roger and I set up for kings! No, thank ye, Sir,-I never drink; Roger and I are exceedingly moral,Aren't we, Roger?-See him wink!Well, something hot, then,-we. won't quarrel. He's thirsty, too,-see him nod his head? What a pity, Sir, that dogs can't talk? He understands every word that's said,And he knows good milk from water-and-chalk. THE VAGABONDS. ~~~~~~~~~~~~Z~~~~~~~~~~~t I~ ~ ~~~~~~~~ ~~~~~~~~~~~~..~ ~... ~ ~...... ~~~2~~~~~~~.. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~.ri, "' l r illlf il ", =~:,:ii/i IIIlmn#Illll Q~~,lU~ WE~,~'~. -'~,.. xAiil'dp 6 THE VAGABONDS. The truth is, Sir, now I reflect, I've been so sadly given to grog, I wonder I've not lost the respect (Here's to you, Sir!) even of my dog. But he sticks by, through thick and thin; And this old coat, with its empty pockets, And rags that smell of tobacco and gin, He'll follow while he has eyes in his sockets. There isn't another creature living Would do it, and prove, through every disaster, So fond, so faithful, and so forgiving, To such a miserable thankless master! No, Sir!-see him wag his tail and grin! By George! it makes my old eyes water! That is, there's something in this gin That chokes a fellow. But no matter! We'll have some music, if you're willing, And Roger here (what a plague a cough is, Sir) Shall march a little Start, you villain! Paws up! Eyes front! Salute your officer!'Bout face! Attention! Take your rifle (Some dogs have arms, you see!) Now hold your Cap while the gentlemen give a trifle, To aid a poor old patriot soldier! 8 THE VAGABONDS. March! Halt! Now show how the rebel shakes, When he stands up to hear his sentence. Now tell us how many drams it takes To honor a jolly new acquaintance. Five yelps,-that's five; he's mighty knowing! The night's before us, fill the glasses!Quick, Sir! I'm ill,-my brain is going!Some brandy,-thank you, there i-it passes! Why not reform? That's easily said; But I've gone through such wretched treatment, Sometimes forgetting the taste of bread, And scarce remembering what meat meant, That my poor stomach's past reform; And there are times when, mad with thinking, I'd sell out heaven for something warm To prop a horrible inward sinking. THE VAGABONDS. ""~.''> -','-,s: -. —------ -- "'-'~'' ~':%"'v~"~"" ~~~~'~.''. I.-:.. \,.._.~'-' J~' ~l~ ~ 11111tI~~'~ I~~.. I~[!"~1'i'~'11~1,, ~ii,~~'iJ ~'~,~ 10 THE VAGABONDS. Is there a way to forget to think? At your age, Sir, home, fortune, friends, A dear girl's love,-but I took to drink;The same old story; you know how it ends. If you could have seen these classic features,You needn't laugh, Sir; they were not then Such a burning libel on God's creatures: I was one of your handsome men! If you had seen HERi SO fair and young, Whose head was happy on this breast.! If youl could have heard the songs I sung When the wine went round, you wouldn't have guessed That ever I, Sir, should be straying From door to dioor, with fiddle and clog, Ragged and penniless, and playing To you to-night for a glass of grog! THE VAGABONDS. 11 it 76~~~~%m 8F~xx;v'l; 12 THE VAGABON1:S. She's married since, —a parson's wife:'Twas better for ler that we should part, — Better the soberest, prosiest life Than a blasted home and a broken heart. I have seen her? Once: I was weak and spent On the dusty road: a carriage stopped: But little she ldreamed, as on she went, Who kissed the coin thllat her fingers dropped! You've set me talking, Sir; I'm sorry; It makes me wild to think of the change! What do you care for a beggar's story? Is it amusing? you find it strange? I had a mother so proud of me!'Twas well she died before Do you know If the happy spirits in heaven can see The ruin and wretchedness here below? ~?]:r]~'VAG:A gOLT]'~ I..1. ~.~:~, j.. ~ B~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~. ~i i.~...~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~;i 3~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ I' 14 THE VAGABONDS. Another glass, and strong, to deaden This pain; then Roger and I will start. - I~~~~~~~~~~~~A, —'.I, I wonder, has he such a luimpish, leaden Aching thing, in place of a heart? zn~~~~~~-' THE VAGABONDS. 15 He is sad sometimes, and would weep, if he could, No doubt, remembering things that were,A virtuous kennel, with plenty of food, And himself a sober, respectable cur. I'm better now; that glass was warming.You rascal! limber your lazy feet! xVe must be fiddling and performing For supper and bed, or starve in the street.Not a very gay life to lead, you think? But soon we shall go where lodgings are fi'ee, And the sleepers need neither victuals nor drink; The sooner, the better for Roger and me! OF