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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/19323-8.txt b/19323-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..0aaaae3 --- /dev/null +++ b/19323-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,7042 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Wit and Humor of America, Volume V. (of +X.), by Various + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Wit and Humor of America, Volume V. (of X.) + +Author: Various + +Editor: Marshall P. Wilder + +Release Date: September 18, 2006 [EBook #19323] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WIT AND HUMOR OF *** + + + + +Produced by Barbara Tozier, Bill Tozier, Suzanne Lybarger +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +[Transcriber's Note: Unlike the other volumes of _The Wit and Humor of +America_ in Project Gutenberg, Volume V was not prepared from the +"Library Edition," and thus has discontinuous page numbers and will not +match the index in Volume X. In addition, a few pieces in Volume V are +duplicated in Volume VI, but all have been retained as printed in each +edition.] + + + + +[Illustration: THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH] + + + + +THE WIT AND HUMOR OF AMERICA + +_Edited by_ MARSHALL P. WILDER + +VOLUME V + + +FUNK & WAGNALLS COMPANY +NEW YORK AND LONDON + +COPYRIGHT 1907, BY BOBBS-MERRILL COMPANY +COPYRIGHT 1911, BY THE THWING COMPANY + +_Printed in the United States of America_ + + + + +CONTENTS + + + PAGE + Abou Ben Butler _John Paul_ 211 + At Aunty's House _James Whitcomb Riley_ 70 + Bill's Courtship _Frank L. Stanton_ 42 + Bully Boat and a Brag Captain, A _Sol Smith_ 222 + Committee from Kelly's, A _J.V.Z. Belden_ 151 + Co-operative Housekeepers, The _Elliott Flower_ 149 + Drayman, The _Daniel O'Connell_ 40 + Dutiful Mariner, The _Wallace Irwin_ 198 + Especially Men _George Randolph Chester_ 160 + Farewell _Bert Leston Taylor_ 194 + Funny Little Fellow, The _James Whitcomb Riley_ 28 + Going Up and Coming Down _Mary F. Tucker_ 10 + Have You Seen the Lady? _John Philip Sousa_ 27 + Her "Angel" Father _Elliott Flower_ 159 + Itinerant Tinker, The _Charles Raymond Macauley_ 74 + It Pays to be Happy _Tom Masson_ 214 + Latter-Day Warnings _Oliver Wendell Holmes_ 212 + Lectures on Astronomy _John Phoenix_ 54 + Letter from a Self-Made Merchant + to His Son, A _George Horace Lorimer_ 186 + Marriage of Sir John Smith, The _Phoebe Cary_ 7 + Melinda's Humorous Story _May McHenry_ 200 + Miss Legion _Bert Leston Taylor_ 26 + Mosquito, The _William Cullen Bryant_ 215 + Mr. Dooley on Expert Testimony _Finley Peter Dunne_ 51 + Mr. Hare Tries to Get a Wife _Anne Virginia Culbertson_ 142 + Musical Review Extraordinary _John Phoenix_ 30 + My First Cigar _Robert J. Burdette_ 220 + My Ruthers _James Whitcomb Riley_ 197 + Night in a Rocking-Chair, A _Kate Field_ 124 + Old Grimes _Albert Gorton Greene_ 24 + Piano in Arkansas, A _Thomas Bangs Thorpe_ 112 + Quit Yo' Worryin' _Anne Virginia Culbertson_ 157 + Rollo Learning to Play _Robert J. Burdette_ 132 + Runaway Boy, The _James Whitcomb Riley_ 38 + Set of China, The _Elisa Leslie_ 12 + Simon Starts in the World _J.J. Hooper_ 96 + Spring Beauties, The _Helen Avery Cone_ 9 + Strike of One, The _Elliott Flower_ 84 + Suppressed Chapters _Carolyn Wells_ 22 + Tiddle-Iddle-Iddle-Iddle-Bum! Bum! _Wilbur D. Nesbit_ 218 + Whar Dem Sinful Apples Grow _Anne Virginia Culbertson_ 121 + Willy and the Lady _Gelett Burgess_ 72 + Woman Who Married an Owl, The _Anne Virginia Culbertson_ 44 + +COMPLETE INDEX AT THE END OF VOLUME X. + + + + +THE WIT AND HUMOR OF AMERICA + + + + +THE MARRIAGE OF SIR JOHN SMITH + +BY PHOEBE CARY + + + Not a sigh was heard, nor a funeral tone, + As the man to his bridal we hurried; + Not a woman discharged her farewell groan, + On the spot where the fellow was married. + + We married him just about eight at night, + Our faces paler turning, + By the struggling moonbeam's misty light, + And the gas-lamp's steady burning. + + No useless watch-chain covered his vest, + Nor over-dressed we found him; + But he looked like a gentleman wearing his best, + With a few of his friends around him. + + Few and short were the things we said, + And we spoke not a word of sorrow, + But we silently gazed on the man that was wed, + And we bitterly thought of the morrow. + + We thought, as we silently stood about, + With spite and anger dying, + How the merest stranger had cut us out, + With only half our trying. + + Lightly we'll talk of the fellow that's gone, + And oft for the past upbraid him; + But little he'll reck if we let him live on, + In the house where his wife conveyed him. + + But our hearty task at length was done, + When the clock struck the hour for retiring; + And we heard the spiteful squib and pun + The girls were sullenly firing. + + Slowly and sadly we turned to go,-- + We had struggled, and we were human; + We shed not a tear, and we spoke not our woe, + But we left him alone with his woman. + + + + +THE SPRING BEAUTIES + +BY HELEN AVERY CONE + + + The Puritan Spring Beauties stood freshly clad for church; + A thrush, white-breasted, o'er them sat singing on his perch. + "Happy be! for fair are ye!" the gentle singer told them; + But presently a buff-coat Bee came booming up to scold them. + "Vanity, oh, vanity! + Young maids, beware of vanity!" + Grumbled out the buff-coat Bee, + Half parson-like, half soldierly. + + The sweet-faced maidens trembled, with pretty, pinky blushes, + Convinced that it was wicked to listen to the thrushes; + And when that shady afternoon, I chanced that way to pass, + They hung their little bonnets down and looked into the grass. + All because the buff-coat Bee + Lectured them so solemnly-- + "Vanity, oh, vanity! + Young maids, beware of vanity!" + + + + +GOING UP AND COMING DOWN + +BY MARY F. TUCKER + + + This is a simple song, 'tis true-- + My songs are never over-nice,-- + And yet I'll try and scatter through + A little pinch of good advice. + Then listen, pompous friend, and learn + To never boast of much renown, + For fortune's wheel is on the turn, + And some go up and some come down. + + I know a vast amount of stocks, + A vast amount of pride insures; + But Fate has picked so many locks + I wouldn't like to warrant yours. + Remember, then, and never spurn + The one whose hand is hard and brown, + For he is likely to go up, + And you are likely to come down. + + Another thing you will agree, + (The truth may be as well confessed) + That "Codfish Aristocracy" + Is but a scaly thing at best. + And Madame in her robe of lace, + And Bridget in her faded gown, + Both represent a goodly race, + From father Adam handed down. + + Life is uncertain--full of change; + Little we have that will endure; + And 't were a doctrine new and strange + That places high are most secure; + And if the fickle goddess smile, + Yielding the scepter and the crown, + 'Tis only for a little while, + Then B. goes up and A. comes down. + + This world, for all of us, my friend + Hath something more than pounds and pence; + Then let me humbly recommend, + A little use of common sense. + Thus lay all pride of place aside, + And have a care on whom you frown; + For fear you'll see him going up, + When you are only coming down. + + + + +THE SET OF CHINA + +BY ELIZA LESLIE + + +"Mr. Gummage," said Mrs. Atmore, as she entered a certain +drawing-school, at that time the most fashionable in Philadelphia, "I +have brought you a new pupil, my daughter, Miss Marianne Atmore. Have +you a vacancy?" + +"Why, I can't say that I have," replied Mr. Gummage; "I never have +vacancies." + +"I am very sorry to hear it," said Mrs. Atmore; and Miss Marianne, a +tall, handsome girl of fifteen, looked disappointed. + +"But perhaps I could strain a point, and find a place for her," resumed +Mr. Gummage, who knew very well that he never had the smallest idea of +limiting the number of his pupils, and that if twenty more were to +apply, he would take them every one, however full his school might be. + +"Do pray, Mr. Gummage," said Mrs. Atmore; "do try and make an exertion +to admit my daughter; I shall regard it as a particular favor." + +"Well, I believe she may come," replied Gummage: "I suppose I can take +her. Has she any turn for drawing?" + +"I don't know," answered Mrs. Atmore, "she has never tried." + +"Well, madam," said Mr. Gummage, "what do you wish your daughter to +learn? figures, flowers, or landscape?" + +"Oh! all three," replied Mrs. Atmore. "We have been furnishing our new +house, and I told Mr. Atmore that he need not get any pictures for the +front parlor, as I would much prefer having them all painted by +Marianne. She has been four quarters with Miss Julia, and has worked +Friendship and Innocence, which cost, altogether, upwards of a hundred +dollars. Do you know the piece, Mr. Gummage? There is a tomb with a +weeping willow, and two ladies with long hair, one dressed in pink, the +other in blue, holding a wreath between them over the top of the urn. +The ladies are Friendship. Then on the right hand of the piece is a +cottage, and an oak, and a little girl dressed in yellow, sitting on a +green bank, and putting a wreath round the neck of a lamb. Nothing can +be more natural than the lamb's wool. It is done entirely in French +knots. The child and the lamb are Innocence." + +"Ay, ay," said Gummage, "I know the piece well enough--I've drawn them +by dozens." + +"Well," continued Mrs. Atmore, "this satin piece hangs over the front +parlor mantel. It is much prettier and better done than the one Miss +Longstitch worked of Charlotte at the tomb of Werter, though she did sew +silver spangles all over Charlotte's lilac gown, and used chenille, at a +fi'-penny-bit a needleful, for all the banks and the large tree. Now, as +the mantel-piece is provided for, I wish a landscape for each of the +recesses, and a figure-piece to hang on each side of the large +looking-glass, with flower-pieces under them, all by Marianne. Can she +do all these in one quarter?" + +"No, that she can't," replied Gummage; "it will take her two quarters +hard work, and maybe three, to get through the whole of them." + +"Well, I won't stand about a quarter more or less," said Mrs. Atmore; +"but what I wish Marianne to do most particularly, and, indeed, the +chief reason why I send her to drawing-school just now, is a pattern for +a set of china that we are going to have made in Canton. I was told the +other day by a New York lady (who was quite tired of the queer unmeaning +things which are generally put on India ware), that she had sent a +pattern for a tea-set, drawn by her daughter, and that every article +came out with the identical device beautifully done on the china, all in +the proper colors. She said it was talked of all over New York, and that +people who had never been at the house before, came to look at and +admire it. No doubt it was a great feather in her daughter's cap." + +"Possibly, madam," said Gummage. + +"And now," resumed Mrs. Atmore, "since I heard this, I have thought of +nothing else than having the same thing done in my family; only I shall +send for a dinner set, and a very long one, too. Mr. Atmore tells me +that the _Voltaire_, one of Stephen Girard's ships, sails for Canton +early next month, and he is well acquainted with the captain, who will +attend to the order for the china. I suppose in the course of a +fortnight Marianne will have learned drawing enough to enable her to do +the pattern?" + +"Oh! yes, madam--quite enough," replied Gummage, suppressing a laugh. + + * * * * * + +"To cut the matter short," said Mr. Gummage, "the best thing for the +china is a flower-piece--a basket, or a wreath--or something of that +sort. You can have a good cipher in the center, and the colors may be +as bright as you please. India ware is generally painted with one color +only; but the Chinese are submissive animals, and will do just as they +are bid. It may cost something more to have a variety of colors, but I +suppose you will not mind that." + +"Oh! no--no," exclaimed Mrs. Atmore, "I shall not care for the price; I +have set my mind on having this china the wonder of all Philadelphia." + +Our readers will understand, that at this period nearly all the +porcelain used in America was of Chinese manufacture; very little of +that elegant article having been, as yet, imported from France. + +A wreath was selected from the portfolio that contained the engravings +and drawings of flowers. It was decided that Marianne should first +execute it the full size of the model (which was as large as nature), +that she might immediately have a piece to frame; and that she was +afterwards to make a smaller copy of it, as a border for all the +articles of the china set; the middle to be ornamented with the letter +A, in gold, surrounded by the rays of a golden star. Sprigs and tendrils +of the flowers were to branch down from the border, so as nearly to +reach the gilding in the middle. The large wreath that was intended to +frame was to bear in its center the initials of Marianne Atmore, being +the letters M.A. painted in shell gold. + +"And so," said Mr. Gummage, "having a piece to frame, and a pattern for +your china, you'll kill two birds with one stone." + +On the following Monday, the young lady came to take her first lesson, +followed by a mulatto boy, carrying a little black morocco trunk, that +contained a four-row box of Reeves's colors, with an assortment of +camel's-hair pencils, half a dozen white saucers, a water cup, a +lead-pencil and a piece of India rubber. Mr. Gummage immediately +supplied her with two bristle brushes, and sundry little shallow earthen +cups, each containing a modicum of some sort of body color, massicot, +flake-white, etc., prepared by himself and charged at a quarter of a +dollar apiece, and which he told her she would want when she came to do +landscapes and figures. + +Mr. Gummage's style was to put in the sky, water and distances with +opaque paints, and the most prominent objects with transparent colors. +This was probably the reason that his foregrounds seemed always to be +sunk in his backgrounds. The model was scarcely considered as a guide, +for he continually told his pupils that they must try to excel it; and +he helped them to do so by making all his skies deep red fire at the +bottom, and dark blue smoke at the top; and exactly reversing the colors +on the water, by putting red at the top and the blue at the bottom. The +distant mountains were lilac and white, and the near rocks buff color, +shaded with purple. The castles and abbeys were usually gamboge. The +trees were dabbed and dotted in with a large bristle brush, so that the +foliage looked like a green frog. The foam of the cascades resembled a +concourse of wigs, scuffling together and knocking the powder out of +each other, the spray being always fizzed on with one of the aforesaid +bristle brushes. All the dark shadows in every part of the picture were +done with a mixture of Persian blue and bistre, and of these two colors +there was consequently a vast consumption in Mr. Gummage's school. At +the period of our story, many of the best houses in Philadelphia were +decorated with these landscapes. But for the honor of my townspeople I +must say that the taste for such productions is now entirely obsolete. +We may look forward to the time, which we trust is not far distant, when +the elements of drawing will be taught in every school, and considered +as indispensable to education as a knowledge of writing. It has long +been our belief that _any_ child may, with proper instruction, be made +to draw, as easily as any child may be made to write. We are rejoiced to +find that so distinguished an artist as Rembrandt Peale has avowed the +same opinion, in giving to the world his invaluable little work on +Graphics: in which he has clearly demonstrated the affinity between +drawing and writing, and admirably exemplified the leading principles of +both. + +Marianne's first attempt at the great wreath was awkward enough. After +she had spent five or six afternoons at the outline, and made it +triangular rather than circular, and found it impossible to get in the +sweet-pea, and the convolvulus, and lost and bewildered herself among +the multitude of leaves that formed the cup of the rose, Mr. Gummage +snatched the pencil from her hand, rubbed out the whole, and then drew +it himself. It must be confessed that his forte lay in flowers, and he +was extremely clever at them, "but," as he expressed it, "his scholars +chiefly ran upon landscapes." + +After he had sketched the wreath, he directed Marianne to rub the colors +for her flowers, while he put in Miss Smithson's rocks. + +When Marianne had covered all her saucers with colors, and wasted ten +times as much as was necessary, she was eager to commence painting, as +she called it; and in trying to wash the rose with lake, she daubed it +on of crimson thickness. When Mr. Gummage saw it, he gave her a severe +reprimand for meddling with her own piece. It was with great difficulty +that the superabundant color was removed; and he charged her to let the +flowers alone till he was ready to wash them for her. He worked a little +at the piece every day, forbidding Marianne to touch it; and she +remained idle while he was putting in skies, mountains, etc., for the +other young ladies. + +At length the wreath was finished--Mr. Gummage having only sketched it, +and washed it, and given it the last touches. It was put into a splendid +frame, and shown as Miss Marianne Atmore's first attempt at painting: +and everybody exclaimed, "What an excellent teacher Mr. Gummage must be! +How fast he brings on his pupils!" + +In the meantime, she undertook at home to make the small copy that was +to go to China. But she was now "at a dead lock," and found it utterly +impossible to advance a step without Mr. Gummage. It was then thought +best that she should do it at school--meaning that Mr. Gummage should do +it for her, while she looked out the window. + +The whole was at last satisfactorily accomplished, even to the gilt +star, with the A in the center. It was taken home and compared with the +larger wreath, and found still prettier, and shone as Marianne's to the +envy of all mothers whose daughters could not furnish models for china. +It was finally given in charge to the captain of the _Voltaire_, with +injunctions to order a dinner-set exactly according to the pattern, and +to prevent the possibility of a mistake, a written direction accompanied +it. + +The ship sailed--and Marianne continued three quarters at Mr. Gummage's +school, where she nominally affected another flower-piece, and also +perpetrated Kemble in Rolla, Edwin and Angelina, the Falls of +Schuylkill, and the Falls of Niagara, all of which were duly framed, and +hung in their appointed places. + +During the year that followed the departure of the ship _Voltaire_ great +impatience for her return was manifested by the ladies of the Atmore +family,--anxious to see how the china would look, and frequently hoping +that the colors would be bright enough, and none of the flowers +omitted--that the gilding would be rich, and everything inserted in its +proper place, exactly according to the pattern. Mrs. Atmore's only +regret was, that she had not sent for a tea-set also; not that she was +in want of one, but then it would be so much better to have a dinner-set +and a tea-set precisely alike, and Marianne's beautiful wreath on all. + +"Why, my dear," said Mr. Atmore, "how often have I heard you say that +you would never have another _tea_-set from Canton, because the Chinese +persist in making the principal articles of such old-fashioned, awkward +shapes. For my part, I always disliked the tall coffee-pots, with their +straight spouts, looking like light-houses with bowsprits to them; and +the short, clumsy teapots, with their twisted handles, and lids that +always fall off." + +"To be sure," said Mrs. Atmore, "I have been looking forward to the +time when we can get a French tea-set upon tolerable terms. But in the +meanwhile I should be very glad to have cups and saucers with Marianne's +beautiful wreath, and of course when we use them on the table we should +always bring forward our silver pots." + +Spring returned, and there was much watching of the vanes, and great joy +when they pointed easterly, and the ship-news now became the most +interesting column of the papers. A vessel that had sailed from New York +to Canton on the same day the _Voltaire_ departed from Philadelphia had +already got in; therefore, the _Voltaire_ might be hourly expected. At +length she was reported below; and at this period the river Delaware +suffered much, in comparison with the river Hudson, owing to the +tediousness of its navigation from the capes to the city. + +At last the _Voltaire_ cast anchor at the foot of Market Street, and our +ladies could scarcely refrain from walking down to the wharf to see the +ship that held the box that held the china. But invitations were +immediately sent out for a long projected dinner-party, which Mrs. +Atmore had persuaded her husband to defer till they could exhibit the +beautiful new porcelain. + +The box was landed, and conveyed to the house. The whole family were +present at the opening, which was performed in the dining-room by Mr. +Atmore himself--all the servants peeping in at the door. As soon as a +part of the lid was split off, and a handful of the straw removed, a +pile of plates appeared, all separately wrapped in India paper. Each of +the family snatched up a plate and hastily tore off the covering. There +were the flowers glowing in beautiful colors, and the gold star and the +gold A, admirably executed. But under the gold star, on every plate, +dish and tureen were the words, "THIS IN THE MIDDLE!"--being the +direction which the literal and exact Chinese had minutely copied from a +crooked line that Mr. Atmore had hastily scrawled on the pattern with a +very bad pen, and of course without the slightest fear of its being +inserted _verbatim_ beneath the central ornament. + +Mr. Atmore laughed--Mrs. Atmore cried--the servants giggled aloud--and +Marianne cried first, and laughed afterwards. + + + + +SUPPRESSED CHAPTERS[1] + +BY CAROLYN WELLS + + + Zenobia, they tell us, was a leader born and bred; + Of any sort of enterprise she'd fitly take the head. + The biggest, burliest buccaneers bowed down to her in awe; + To Warriors, Emperors or Kings, Zenobia's word was law. + + Above her troop of Amazons her helmet plume would toss, + And every one, with loud accord, proclaimed Zenobia's boss. + The reason of her power (though the part she didn't look), + Was simply that Zenobia had once lived out as cook. + + Xantippe was a Grecian Dame--they say she was the wife + Of Socrates, and history shows she led him a life! + They say she was a virago, a vixen and a shrew, + Who scolded poor old Socrates until the air was blue. + + She never stopped from morn till night the clacking of her tongue, + But this is thus accounted for: You see, when she was young-- + (And 'tis an explanation that explains, as you must own), + Xantippe was the Central of the Grecian telephone. + +[Footnote 1: By permission of Life Publishing Company.] + + + + +OLD GRIMES + +BY ALBERT GORTON GREENE + + + Old Grimes is dead, that good old man + We never shall see more: + He used to wear a long black coat + All button'd down before. + + His heart was open as the day, + His feelings all were true; + His hair was some inclined to gray-- + He wore it in a queue. + + Whene'er he heard the voice of pain, + His breast with pity burn'd; + The large, round head upon his cane + From ivory was turn'd. + + Kind words he ever had for all; + He knew no base design: + His eyes were dark and rather small, + His nose was aquiline. + + He lived at peace with all mankind, + In friendship he was true; + His coat had pocket-holes behind, + His pantaloons were blue. + + Unharm'd, the sin which earth pollutes + He pass'd securely o'er, + And never wore a pair of boots + For thirty years or more. + + But good old Grimes is now at rest, + Nor fears misfortune's frown: + He wore a double-breasted vest-- + The stripes ran up and down. + + He modest merit sought to find, + And pay it its desert: + He had no malice in his mind, + No ruffles on his shirt. + + His neighbors he did not abuse-- + Was sociable and gay: + He wore large buckles on his shoes, + And changed them every day. + + His knowledge hid from public gaze, + He did not bring to view, + Nor made a noise town-meeting days, + As many people do. + + His worldly goods he never threw + In trust to fortune's chances, + But lived (as all his brothers do) + In easy circumstances. + + Thus undisturb'd by anxious cares, + His peaceful moments ran; + And everybody said he was + A fine old gentleman. + + + + +MISS LEGION + +BY BERT LESTON TAYLOR + + + She is hotfoot after Cultyure; + She pursues it with a club. + She breathes a heavy atmosphere + Of literary flub. + No literary shrine so far + But she is there to kneel; + And-- + Her favorite bunch of reading + Is O. Meredith's "Lucile." + + Of course she's up on pictures-- + Passes for a connoisseur; + On free days at the Institute + You'll always notice her. + She qualifies approval + Of a Titian or Corot, + But-- + She throws a fit of rapture + When she comes to Bouguereau. + + And when you talk of music, + Why, she's Music's devotee. + She will tell you that Beethoven + Always makes her wish to pray, + And "dear old Bach!" his very name, + She says, her ear enchants; + But-- + Her favorite piece is Weber's + "Invitation to the Dance." + + + + +HAVE YOU SEEN THE LADY? + +BY JOHN PHILIP SOUSA + + + "Have I told you the name of a lady? + Have I told you the name of a dear? + 'Twas known long ago, + And ends with an O; + You don't hear it often round here. + + Have I talked of the eyes of a lady? + Have I talked of the eyes that are bright? + Their color, you see, + Is B-L-U-E; + They're the gin in the cocktail of light. + + Have I sung of the hair of a lady? + Have I sung of the hair of a dove? + What shade do you say? + B-L-A-C-K; + It's the fizz in the champagne of love. + + Can you guess it--the name of the lady? + She is sweet, she is fair, she is coy. + Your guessing forego, + It's J-U-N-O; + She's the mint in the julep of joy." + + + + +THE FUNNY LITTLE FELLOW + +BY JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY + + + 'Twas a Funny Little Fellow + Of the very purest type, + For he had a heart as mellow + As an apple over-ripe; + And the brightest little twinkle + When a funny thing occurred, + And the lightest little tinkle + Of a laugh you ever heard! + + His smile was like the glitter + Of the sun in tropic lands, + And his talk a sweeter twitter + Than the swallow understands; + Hear him sing--and tell a story-- + Snap a joke--ignite a pun,-- + 'Twas a capture--rapture--glory, + And explosion--all in one! + + Though he hadn't any money-- + That condiment which tends + To make a fellow "honey" + For the palate of his friends; + Sweet simples he compounded-- + Sovereign antidotes for sin + Or taint,--a faith unbounded + That his friends were genuine. + + He wasn't honored, may be-- + For his songs of praise were slim,-- + Yet I never knew a baby + That wouldn't crow for him; + I never knew a mother + But urged a kindly claim + Upon him as a brother, + At the mention of his name. + + The sick have ceased their sighing, + And have even found the grace + Of a smile when they were dying + As they looked upon his face; + And I've seen his eyes of laughter + Melt in tears that only ran + As though, swift dancing after, + Came the Funny Little Man. + + He laughed away the sorrow, + And he laughed away the gloom + We are all so prone to borrow + From the darkness of the tomb; + And he laughed across the ocean + Of a happy life, and passed, + With a laugh of glad emotion, + Into Paradise at last. + + And I think the Angels knew him, + And had gathered to await + His coming, and run to him + Through the widely-opened Gate-- + With their faces gleaming sunny + For his laughter-loving sake, + And thinking, "What a funny + Little Angel he will make!" + + + + +MUSICAL REVIEW EXTRAORDINARY + +BY JOHN PHOENIX + + +SAN DIEGO, July 10th, 1854. + +As your valuable work is not supposed to be so entirely identified with +San Franciscan interests as to be careless what takes place in other +portions of this great _kentry_, and as it is received and read in San +Diego with great interest (I have loaned my copy to over four different +literary gentlemen, most of whom have read some of it), I have thought +it not improbable that a few critical notices of the musical +performances and the drama of this place might be acceptable to you, and +interest your readers. I have been, moreover, encouraged to this task by +the perusal of your interesting musical and theatrical critiques on San +Francisco performers and performances; as I feel convinced that if you +devote so much space to them you will not allow any little feeling of +rivalry between the two great cities to prevent your noticing ours, +which, without the slightest feeling of prejudice, I must consider as +infinitely superior. I propose this month to call your attention to the +two great events in our theatrical and musical world--the appearance of +the talented Miss PELICAN, and the production of Tarbox's celebrated +"Ode Symphonie" of "The Plains." + +The critiques on the former are from the columns of the Vallecetos +Sentinel, to which they were originally contributed by me, appearing on +the respective dates of June 1st and June 31st. + + +_From the Vallecetos Sentinel, June 1st_ + + MISS PELICAN.--Never during our dramatic experience has a more + exciting event occurred than the sudden bursting upon our + theatrical firmament, full, blazing, unparalleled, of the bright, + resplendent and particular star whose honored name shines refulgent + at the head of this article. Coming among us unheralded, almost + unknown, without claptrap, in a wagon drawn by oxen across the + plains, with no agent to get up a counterfeit enthusiasm in her + favor, she appeared before us for the first time at the San Diego + Lyceum last evening, in the trying and difficult character of + Ingomar, or the Tame Savage. We are at a loss to describe our + sensations, our admiration, at her magnificent, her super-human + efforts. We do not hesitate to say that she is by far the superior + to any living actress; and, as we believe that to be the perfection + of acting, we cannot be wrong in the belief that no one hereafter + will ever be found to approach her. Her conception of the character + of Ingomar was perfection itself; her playful and ingenuous manner, + her light girlish laughter, in the scene with Sir Peter, showed an + appreciation of the savage character which nothing but the most + arduous study, the most elaborate training could produce; while her + awful change to the stern, unyielding, uncompromising father in the + tragic scene of Duncan's murder, was indeed nature itself. Miss + Pelican is about seventeen years of age, of miraculous beauty, and + most thrilling voice. It is needless to say she dresses admirably, + as in fact we have said all we can say when we called her, most + truthfully, perfection. Mr. John Boots took the part of Parthenia + very creditably, etc., etc. + + +_From the Vallecetos Sentinel, June 31st_ + + MISS PELICAN.--As this lady is about to leave us to commence an + engagement on the San Francisco stage, we should regret exceedingly + if anything we have said about her should send with her a + _prestige_ which might be found undeserved on trial. The fact is, + Miss Pelican is a very ordinary actress; indeed, one of the most + indifferent ones we have ever happened to see. She came here from + the Museum at Fort Laramie, and we praised her so injudiciously + that she became completely spoiled. She has performed a round of + characters during the last week, very miserably, though we are + bound to confess that her performance of King Lear last evening was + superior to anything of the kind we ever saw. Miss Pelican is about + forty-three years of age, singularly plain in her personal + appearance, awkward and embarrassed, with a cracked and squeaking + voice, and really dresses quite outrageously. _She has much to + learn--poor thing!_ + +I take it the above notices are rather ingenious. The fact is, I'm no +judge of acting, and don't know how Miss Pelican will turn out. If well, +why there's my notice of June the 1st; if ill, then June 31st comes in +play, and, as there is but one copy of the Sentinel printed, it's an +easy matter to destroy the incorrect one; _both can't be wrong_; so I've +made a sure thing of it in any event. Here follows my musical critique, +which I flatter myself is of rather superior order: + +THE PLAINS. ODE SYMPHONIE PAR JABEZ TARBOX.--This glorious composition +was produced at the San Diego Odeon on the 31st of June, ult., for the +first time in this or any other country, by a very full orchestra (the +performance taking place immediately after supper), and a chorus +composed of the entire "Sauer Kraut-Verein," the "Wee Gates +Association," and choice selections from the "Gyascutus" and +"Pike-harmonic" societies. The solos were rendered by Herr Tuden Links, +the recitations by Herr Von Hyden Schnapps, both performers being +assisted by Messrs. John Smith and Joseph Brown, who held their coats, +fanned them, and furnished water during the more overpowering passages. + +"The Plains" we consider the greatest musical achievement that has been +presented to an enraptured public. Like Waterloo among battles; Napoleon +among warriors; Niagara among falls, and Peck among senators, this +magnificent composition stands among Oratorios, Operas, Musical +Melodramas and performances of Ethiopian Serenaders, peerless and +unrivaled. _Il frappe toute chose parfaitement froid._ + +"It does not depend for its success" upon its plot, its theme, its +school or its master, for it has very little if any of them, but upon +its soul-subduing, all-absorbing, high-faluting effect upon the +audience, every member of which it causes to experience the most +singular and exquisite sensations. Its strains at times remind us of +those of the old master of the steamer McKim, who never went to sea +without being unpleasantly affected;--a straining after effect he used +to term it. Blair in his lecture on beauty, and Mills in his treatise on +logic, (p. 31,) have alluded to the feeling which might be produced in +the human mind by something of this transcendentally sublime +description, but it has remained for M. Tarbox, in the production of +"The Plains," to call this feeling forth. + +The symphonie opens upon the wide and boundless plains in longitude 115 +degrees W., latitude 35 degrees 21 minutes 03 seconds N., and about +sixty miles from the west bank of Pitt River. These data are beautifully +and clearly expressed by a long (topographically) drawn note from an E +flat clarionet. The sandy nature of the soil, sparsely dotted with +bunches of cactus and artemisia, the extended view, flat and unbroken to +the horizon, save by the rising smoke in the extreme verge, denoting the +vicinity of a Pi Utah village, are represented by the bass drum. A few +notes on the piccolo call attention to a solitary antelope picking up +mescal beans in the foreground. The sun, having an altitude of 36 +degrees 27 minutes, blazes down upon the scene in indescribable majesty. +"Gradually the sounds roll forth in a song" of rejoicing to the God of +Day: + + "Of thy intensity + And great immensity + Now then we sing; + Beholding in gratitude + Thee in this latitude, + Curious thing." + +Which swells out into "Hey Jim along, Jim along Josey," then +_decrescendo_, _mas o menos_, _poco pocita_, dies away and dries up. + +Suddenly we hear approaching a train from Pike County, consisting of +seven families, with forty-six wagons, each drawn by thirteen oxen; each +family consists of a man in butternut-colored clothing driving the oxen; +a wife in butternut-colored clothing riding in the wagon, holding a +butternut baby, and seventeen butternut children running promiscuously +about the establishment; all are barefooted, dusty, and smell +unpleasantly. (All these circumstances are expressed by pretty rapid +fiddling for some minutes, winding up with a puff from the orpheclide +played by an intoxicated Teuton with an atrocious breath--it is +impossible to misunderstand the description.) Now rises o'er the plains, +in mellifluous accents, the grand Pike County Chorus: + + "Oh we'll soon be thar + In the land of gold, + Through the forest old, + O'er the mounting cold, + With spirits bold-- + Oh, we come, we come, + And we'll soon be thar. + Gee up Bolly! whoo, up, whoo haw!" + +The train now encamp. The unpacking of the kettles and mess-pans, the +unyoking of the oxen, the gathering about the various camp-fires, the +frizzling of the pork, are so clearly expressed by the music that the +most untutored savage could readily comprehend it. Indeed, so vivid and +lifelike was the representation, that a lady sitting near us +involuntarily exclaimed aloud, at a certain passage, "_Thar, that pork's +burning!_" and it was truly interesting to watch the gratified +expression of her face when, by a few notes of the guitar, the pan was +removed from the fire, and the blazing pork extinguished. + +This is followed by the beautiful _aria_: + + "O! marm, I want a pancake!" + +Followed by that touching _recitative_: + + "Shet up, or I will spank you!" + +To which succeeds a grand _crescendo_ movement, representing the flight +of the child with the pancake, the pursuit of the mother, and the final +arrest and summary punishment of the former, represented by the rapid +and successive strokes of the castanet. + +The turning in for the night follows; and the deep and stertorous +breathing of the encampment is well given by the bassoon, while the +sufferings and trials of an unhappy father with an unpleasant infant are +touchingly set forth by the _cornet à piston_. + +Part Second.--The night attack of the Pi Utahs; the fearful cries of the +demoniac Indians; the shrieks of the females and children; the rapid and +effective fire of the rifles; the stampede of the oxen; their recovery +and the final repulse, the Pi Utahs being routed after a loss of +thirty-six killed and wounded, while the Pikes lose but one scalp (from +an old fellow who wore a wig, and lost it in the scuffle), are +faithfully given, and excite the most intense interest in the minds of +the hearers; the emotions of fear, admiration and delight: succeeding +each other, in their minds, with almost painful rapidity. Then follows +the grand chorus: + + "Oh! we gin them fits, + The Ingen Utahs. + With our six-shooters-- + We gin 'em pertickuler fits." + +After which we have the charming recitative of Herr Tuden Links, to the +infant, which is really one of the most charming gems in the +performance: + + "Now, dern your skin, _can't_ you be easy?" + +Morning succeeds. The sun rises magnificently (octavo flute)--breakfast +is eaten,--in a rapid movement on three sharps; the oxen are caught and +yoked up--with a small drum and triangle; the watches, purses and other +valuables of the conquered Pi Utahs are stored away in a camp-kettle, to +a small movement on the piccolo, and the train moves on, with the grand +chorus: + + "We'll soon be thar, + Gee up Bolly! Whoo hup! whoo haw!" + +The whole concludes with the grand hymn and chorus: + + "When we die we'll go to Benton, + Whup! Whoo, haw! + The greatest man that e'er land saw, + Gee! + Who this little airth was sent on + Whup! Whoo, haw! + To tell a 'hawk from a handsaw!' + Gee!" + +The immense expense attending the production of this magnificent work, +the length of time required to prepare the chorus, and the incredible +number of instruments destroyed at each rehearsal, have hitherto +prevented M. Tarbox from placing it before the American public, and it +has remained for San Diego to show herself superior to her sister cities +of the Union, in musical taste and appreciation, and in high-souled +liberality, by patronizing this immortal prodigy, and enabling its +author to bring it forth in accordance with his wishes and its +capabilities. We trust every citizen of San Diego and Vallecetos will +listen to it ere it is withdrawn; and if there yet lingers in San +Francisco one spark of musical fervor, or a remnant of taste for pure +harmony, we can only say that the Southerner sails from that place once +a fortnight, and that the passage money is but forty-five dollars. + + + + +THE RUNAWAY BOY + +BY JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY + + + Wunst I sassed my Pa, an' he + Won't stand that, an' punished me,-- + Nen when he was 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. + + 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 was 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 was nobody there. + + I _want_ to, but I'm 'fraid to try + To go back.... An' by-an'-by + Somepin' hurts my throat inside-- + An' 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'll show me there. + + But I couldn't ist but tell + What's my _name_; an' she says well, + An' she 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' _she_ + Kissed me--ef I p'omise _shore_ + I won't run away no more! + + + + +THE DRAYMAN + +BY DANIEL O'CONNELL + + + The captain that walks the quarter-deck + Is the monarch of the sea; + But every day, when I'm on my dray, + I'm as big a monarch as he. + For the car must slack when I'm on the track, + And the gripman's face gets blue, + As he holds her back till his muscles crack, + And he shouts, "Hey, hey! Say, you! + Get out of the way with that dray!" "I won't!" + "Get out of the way, I say!" + But I stiffen my back, and I stay on the track, + And I won't get out of the way. + + When a gaudy carriage bowls along, + With a coachman perched on high, + Solemn and fat, a cockade in his hat, + Just like a big blue fly, + I swing my leaders across the road, + And put a stop to his jaunt, + And the ladies cry, "John, John, drive on!" + And I laugh when he says "I caun't." + + Oh, life to me is a big picnic, + From the rise to the set of sun! + The swells that ride in their fancy drags + Don't begin to have my fun. + I'm king of the road, though I wear no crown, + As I leisurely move along, + For I own the streets, and I hold them down, + And I love to hear this song: + "Get out of the way with your dray!" "I won't!" + "Get out of the way, I say!" + But I stiffen my back, and I stay on the track, + And I don't get out of the way. + + + + +BILL'S COURTSHIP + +BY FRANK L. STANTON + + +I + + Bill looked happy as could be + One bright mornin'; an' says he: + "Folks has been a-tellin' me + Mollie's set her cap my way; + An' I'm goin' thar' to-day + With the license; so, ol' boy, + Might's well shake, an' wish me joy! + Never seen a woman yit + This here feller couldn't git!" + + +II + + Now, it happened, that same day, + I'd been lookin' Mollie's way;-- + Jest had saddled my ol' hoss + To go canterin' across + Parson Jones's pastur', an' + Ax her fer her heart an' han'! + So, when Bill had had his say + An' done set his weddin' day, + I lit out an' rid that way. + + +III + + Mollie met me at the door:-- + "Glad to see yer face once more!" + She--says she: "Come in--come in!" + ("It's the best man now will win," + Thinks I to myself.) Then she + Brung a rocker out fer me + On the cool piazza wide, + With her own chair right 'longside! + + +IV + + In about two hours I knowed + In that race I had the road! + Talked in sich a winnin' way + Got her whar' she named the day, + With her shiny head at rest + On my speckled Sunday vest! + An', whilst in that happy state, + Bill--he rid up to the gate. + + +V + + Well, sir-ee!... He sot him down-- + Cheapest lookin' chap in town! + (Knowed at once I'd set my traps!) + Talked 'bout weather, an' the craps, + An' a thousan' things; an' then-- + Jest the lonesomest o' men-- + Said he had so fur to ride, + Reckoned it wuz time to slide! + + +VI + + But I hollered out: "Ol' boy, + Might's well shake, an' wish me joy! + I hain't seen the woman yit + That this feller couldn't git!" + + + + +THE WOMAN WHO MARRIED AN OWL + +BY ANNE VIRGINIA CULBERTSON + + +When the children got home from the nutting expedition and had eaten +supper, they sat around discontentedly, wishing every few minutes that +their mother had returned. + +"I wish mamma would come back," said Ned. "I never know what to do in +the evening when she isn't home." + +"I 'low 'bout de bes' you-all kin do is ter lemme putt you ter baid," +said Aunt 'Phrony. + +"Don't want to go to bed," "I'm not sleepy," "Want to stay up," came in +chorus from three pairs of lips. + +"You chillen is wusser dan night owls," said the old woman. "Ef you +keeps on wid dis settin'-up-all-night bizness, I boun' some er you gwine +turn inter one'r dese yer big, fussy owls wid yaller eyes styarin', jes' +de way li'l Mars Kit doin' dis ve'y minnit, tryin' ter keep hisse'f +awake. An' dat 'mines me uv a owl whar turnt hisse'f inter a man, an' ef +a owl kin do dat, w'ats ter hinner one'r you-all turnin' inter a owl, I +lak ter know? So you bes' come 'long up ter baid, an' ef you is right +spry gettin' raidy, mebbe I'll whu'l in an' tell you 'bout dat owl." + +The little procession moved upstairs, Coonie, the house-boy, bringing up +the rear with an armful of sticks and some fat splinters of lightwood, +which were soon blazing with an oily sputter. Coonie scented a story, +and his bullet pate was bent over the fire an unnecessarily long time, +as he blew valiant puffs upon the flames which no longer needed his +assistance, and arranged and rearranged his skilfully piled sticks. + +"Quit dat foolishness, nigger," said 'Phrony at last, "an' set down on +de ha'th an' 'have yo'se'f. Ef you wanter stay, whyn't you sesso, +stidder blowin' yo'se'f black in de face? Now, den, ef y'all raidy, I +gwine begin. + +"Dish yer w'at I gwine tell happen at de time er de 'ear w'en de Injuns +wuz havin' der green-cawn darnse, an' I reckon you-all 'bout ter ax me +w'at dat is, so I s'pose I mought ez well tell you. 'Long in Augus' w'en +de Injuns stopped wu'kkin' de cawn, w'at we call 'layin' by de crap,' +den dey cu'd mos' times tell ef 'twuz gwineter be a good crap, so dey +'mence ter git raidy fer de darnse nigh a month befo'han'. Dey went ter +de medincin' man an' axed him fer ter 'pint de day. Den medincin' man he +sont out runners ter tell ev'b'dy, an' de runners dey kyar'd +'memb'ance-strings wid knots tied all 'long 'em, an' give 'em ter de +people fer ter he'p 'em 'member. De folks dey'd cut off a knot f'um de +string each day, an' w'en de las' one done cut off, den dey know de day +fer de darnse wuz come. An' de medincin' man he sont out hunters, too, +fer ter git game, an' mo' runners fer ter kyar' hit ter de people so's't +dey mought cook hit an' bring hit in. + +"W'en de time come, de people ga'rred toge'rr an' de medincin' man he +tucken some er de new cawn an' some uv all de craps an' burnt hit, befo' +de people wuz 'lowed ter eat any. Atter de burnin', den he tucken a year +er cawn in one han' an' ax fer blessin's an' good craps wid dat han', +w'ile he raise up tu'rr han' ter de storm an' de win' an' de hail an' +baig 'em not ter bring evil 'pun de people. Atter dat, dey all made der +bre'kfus' offen roas'in'-years er de new cawn an' den de darnse begun +an' lasted fo' days an' fo' nights; de men dress' up in der bes' an' de +gals wearin' gre't rattles tied on der knees, dat shuk an' rattled wid +ev'y step. + +"De gal whar I gwine tell 'bout wuz on her way home on de fo'th night, +an' she wuz pow'ful tired, 'kase dem rattles is monst'ous haivy, an' she +bin keepin' hit up fo' nights han' runnin'. She wuz gwine thu a dark +place in de woods w'en suddintly she seed a young man all wrop up in a +sof' gray blankit an' leanin' 'gins' a tree. His eyes wuz big an' roun' +an' bright, an' dey seemed ter bu'n lak fire. Dem eyes drord de gal an' +drord de gal 'twel she warn't 'feared no mo', an' she come nearer, an' +las' he putt out his arms wrop up in de gray blanket an' drord her clost +'twel she lean erg'in him, an' she look up in de big, bright eyes an' +she say, 'Whar is you, whar is you?' An' he say, 'Oo-goo-coo, +Oo-goo-coo.' Dat wuz de Churry_kee_ name fer 'owl,' but de gal ain' pay +no 'tention ter dat, for mos' er de Injun men wuz name' atter bu'ds an' +beas'eses an' sech ez dat. Atter dat she useter go out ter de woods ev'y +night ter see de young man, an' she alluz sing out ter him, 'Whar is +you, whar is you?' an' he'd arnser, 'Oo-goo-coo, Oo-goo-coo.' Dat wuz de +on'ies wu'd he uver say, but de gal thought 'twuz all right, fer she +done mek up her min' dat he 'longed ter nu'rr tribe er Injuns whar spoke +diff'nt f'um her own people. Sidesen dat, she love' him, an' w'en gals +is in love dey think ev'ything de man do is jes' 'bout right, an' dese +yer co'tin'-couples is no gre't fer talkin,' nohow. + +"De gal's daddy wuz daid an' her an' her mammy live all 'lone, so las' +she mek up her min' dat it be heap mo' handy ter have a man roun' de +house, so she up an' tell her mammy dat she done got ma'ied. Her mammy +say, 'You is, is you? Well, who de man?' De gal say 'Oo-goo-coo.' 'Well, +den,' sez her mammy, 'I reckon you bes' bring home dish yer Oo-goo-coo +an' see ef we kain't mek him useful. A li'l good game, now an' den, 'ud +suit my mouf right well. We ain' have nair' pusson ter do no huntin' fer +us sence yo' daddy died.' + +"'Mammy,' sez de gal, 'I'se 'bleeged ter tell you dat my husban' kain't +speak ow' langwidge.' + +"'All de better,' sez her mammy, sez she. 'Dar ain' gwine be no trouble +'bout dat, 'kase I kin do talkin' 'nuff fer two, an' I ain' want one +dese yer back-talkin' son-in-laws, nohow.' + +"So de nex' night de gal went off an' comed back late wid de young man. +Her mammy ax him in an' gin him a seat by de fire, an' dar he sot all +wrop up in his blinkit, wid his haid turnt 'way f'um de light, not +sayin' nuttin' ter nob'dy. An' de fire died down an' de wind blewed +mo'nful outside, an' dar he sot on an' on, an' w'en de wimmins went ter +sleep, dar he wuz settin', still. But in de mawnin' w'en dey woked up he +wuz gone, an' dey ain' see hya'r ner hide uv 'im all day. + +"De nex' night he come erg'in and bringed a lot er game wid 'im, an' he +putt dat down at de do' an' set hisse'f down by de fire an' stay dar, +same ez befo', not sayin' nair' wu'd. Dat kind er aggervex de gal's +mammy at las', 'kase she wuz one'r dese yer wimmins whar no sooner gits +w'at dey ax fer dan dey ain' kyare 'bout hit no mo.' She want son-in-law +whar kain't talk, she git him, an' den she want one whar kin arnser +back. She gittin' kind er jubous 'bout him, but she 'feared ter say +anything fer fear he quit an' she git no mo' game. + +"Thu'd night he come onct mo' wid a passel er game, an' she mighty +cur'ous 'bout him by dat time. She say ter husse'f, 'Well! ef I ain' got +de curisomest son-in-law in dese diggin's, den I miss de queschin. I +wunner w'at mek him set wid his face turnt f'um de fire an' blinkin' his +eyes all de time? I wunner w'y he ain' nuver onloose dat blankit, an' +w'y he g'longs off 'fo' de daylight an' nuver comes back 'twel de dark.' + +"'Oh, mammy,' sez de gal, sez she, 'ain' I tol' you he kain't speak ow' +langwidge, an' I 'spec' he done come f'um dat wo'm kyountry whar we year +tell 'bout, 'way off yonner, an' dat huccome he hatter keep his blankit +roun' him. I reckon he git so tired huntin' all day, no wunner he hatter +blink his eyes ter keep 'em open.' + +"But her mammy wan't sassified, 'kase hit mighty hard ter haid off one'r +dese yer pryin' wimmins, so she go outside an' ga'rr up some lightwood +splinters an' th'ow 'em on de fire, dis-away, all uv a suddint." Here +the old woman rose and threw on a handful of lightwood, which blazed up +with a great sputtering, and in the strong light she stood before the +fire enacting the part of the scared Owl for the delighted yet +half-startled children. + +"An' w'en she th'owed hit on," Aunt 'Phrony proceeded, "de fire blaze +an' spit an' sputter jes' lak dis do, an' de ooman she fotched a yell +an' cried out, she did, 'Lan' er de mussiful! W'at cur'ous sort er wood +is dish yer dat ac' lak dis?' De Owl he wuz startle' an' he look roun' +suddint, dis-a-way, over his shoulder, an' de wimmins dey let out a +turr'ble screech, 'kase dey seed 'twa'n't nuttin' but a big owl settin' +dar blinkin'. + +"Owl seed he wuz foun' out, an' he riz up an' give his gre't, wide wings +a big flop, lak dis, an' swoop out de do' cryin' 'Oo-goo-coo! +Oo-goo-coo!' ez he flewed off inter de darkness." Here Aunt 'Phrony +spread her arms like wings and made a swoop half-way across the room to +the bedside of the startled children. "An'," she continued, "de wind +howl mo'nful all night long, an' seem ter de gal an' her mammy lak 'twuz +de voice of po' Oo-goo-coo mo'nin' fer de gal he love." + +"And didn't he ever come back?" said Ned. + +"Naw, suh, dat he didn'. He wuz too 'shame' ter come back, an' he bin so +'shame' er de trick uver sence dat he hide hisse'f way in de daytime an' +nuver come out 'twel de dusk, an' den he go sweepin' an' swoopin' 'long +on dem gre't big sof' wings, so quiet dat he ain' mek de ghos' uv a +soun', jes' looks lak a big shadder flittin' roun' in de dusk. He teck +dat time, too, 'kase he know dat 'bout den de li'l fiel' mouses an' sech +ez dat comes out an' 'mences ter run roun', an' woe be unter 'em ef dey +meets up wid Mistah Owl; deys a-goner, sho'." + +"But how could they think an owl was a man?" asked Janey. + +"Well, honey, de tale ain' tell dat, but I done study hit out dis-a-way, +dat mo'n likely de gal bin turnin' up her nose at some young Injun man, +an' outer spite he done gone an' got some witch ter putt a spell on her +so's't de Owl 'ud look lak a man an' she 'ud go an' th'ow husse'f away +on a ol' no-kyount bu'd. Yas, I reckon dat wuz 'bout de way. An' now +y'all better shet up dem peepers er you'll be gittin' lak de owls, no +good in de day time, an' wantin' ter be up an' prowlin' all night." + + + + +MR. DOOLEY ON EXPERT TESTIMONY + +BY FINLEY PETER DUNNE + + +"Annything new?" said Mr. Hennessy, who had been waiting patiently for +Mr. Dooley to put down his newspaper. + +"I've been r-readin' th' tistimony iv th' Lootgert case," said Mr. +Dooley. + +"What d'ye think iv it?" + +"I think so," said Mr. Dooley. + +"Think what?" + +"How do I know?" said Mr. Dooley. "How do I know what I think? I'm no +combi-nation iv chemist, doctor, osteologist, polisman, an' +sausage-maker, that I can give ye an opinion right off th' bat. A man +needs to be all iv thim things to detarmine annything about a murdher +trile in these days. This shows how intilligent our methods is, as Hogan +says. A large German man is charged with puttin' his wife away into a +breakfas'-dish, an' he says he didn't do it. Th' on'y question, thin, is +Did or did not Alphonse Lootgert stick Mrs. L. into a vat, an' rayjooce +her to a quick lunch? Am I right?" + +"Ye ar-re," said Mr. Hennessy. + +"That's simple enough. What th' coort ought to've done was to call him +up, an' say: 'Lootgert, where's ye'er good woman?' If Lootgert cudden't +tell, he ought to be hanged on gin'ral principles; f'r a man must keep +his wife around th' house, an' whin she isn't there, it shows he's a +poor provider. But, if Lootgert says, 'I don't know where me wife is,' +the coort shud say: 'Go out, an' find her. If ye can't projooce her in a +week, I'll fix ye.' An' let that be th' end iv it. + +"But what do they do? They get Lootgert into coort an' stand him up +befure a gang iv young rayporthers an' th' likes iv thim to make +pitchers iv him. Thin they summon a jury composed iv poor, tired, sleepy +expressmen an' tailors an' clerks. Thin they call in a profissor from a +colledge. 'Profissor,' says th' lawyer f'r the State, 'I put it to ye if +a wooden vat three hundherd an' sixty feet long, twenty-eight feet deep, +an' sivinty-five feet wide, an' if three hundherd pounds iv caustic soda +boiled, an' if the leg iv a ginea pig, an' ye said yesterdah about +bicarbonate iv soda, an' if it washes up an' washes over, an' th' slimy, +slippery stuff, an' if a false tooth or a lock iv hair or a jawbone or a +goluf ball across th' cellar eleven feet nine inches--that is, two +inches this way an' five gallons that?' 'I agree with ye intirely,' says +th' profissor, 'I made lab'ratory experiments in an' ir'n basin, with +bichloride iv gool, which I will call soup-stock, an' coal tar, which I +will call ir'n filings. I mixed th' two over a hot fire, an' left in a +cool place to harden. I thin packed it in ice, which I will call glue, +an' rock-salt, which I will call fried eggs, an' obtained a dark, queer +solution that is a cure f'r freckles, which I will call antimony or +doughnuts or annything I blamed please.' + +"'But,' says th' lawyer f'r th' State, 'measurin' th' vat with gas,--an' +I lave it to ye whether this is not th' on'y fair test,--an' supposin' +that two feet acrost is akel to tin feet sideways, an' supposin' that a +thick green an' hard substance, an' I daresay it wud; an' supposin' you +may, takin' into account th' measuremints,--twelve be eight,--th' vat +bein' wound with twine six inches fr'm th' handle an' a rub iv th' +green, thin ar-re not human teeth often found in counthry sausage?' 'In +th' winter,' says th' profissor. 'But th' sisymoid bone is sometimes +seen in th' fut, sometimes worn as a watch-charm. I took two sisymoid +bones, which I will call poker dice, an' shook thim together in a +cylinder, which I will call Fido, poored in a can iv milk, which I will +call gum arabic, took two pounds iv rough-on-rats, which I rayfuse to +call; but th' raysult is th' same.' Question be th' coort: 'Different?' +Answer: 'Yis.' Th' coort: 'Th' same.' Be Misther McEwen: 'Whose bones?' +Answer: 'Yis.' Be Misther Vincent: 'Will ye go to th' divvle?' Answer: +'It dissolves th' hair.' + +"Now what I want to know is where th' jury gets off. What has that +collection iv pure-minded pathrites to larn fr'm this here polite +discussion, where no wan is so crool as to ask what anny wan else means? +Thank th' Lord, whin th' case is all over, the jury'll pitch th' +tistimony out iv th' window, an' consider three questions: 'Did Lootgert +look as though he'd kill his wife? Did his wife look as though she ought +to be kilt? Isn't it time we wint to supper?' An', howiver they answer, +they'll be right, an' it'll make little diff'rence wan way or th' other. +Th' German vote is too large an' ignorant, annyhow." + + + + +LECTURES ON ASTRONOMY + +BY JOHN PHOENIX + + +_Introductory_ + +The following pages were originally prepared in the form of a course of +Lectures to be delivered before the Lowell Institute, of Boston, Mass., +but, owing to the unexpected circumstance of the author's receiving no +invitation to lecture before that institution, they were laid aside +shortly after their completion. + +Receiving an invitation from the trustees of the Vallecetos Literary and +Scientific Institute, during the present summer, to deliver a course of +Lectures on any popular subject, the author withdrew his manuscript from +the dusty shelf on which it had long lain neglected, and, having +somewhat revised and enlarged it, to suit the capacity of the eminent +scholars before whom it was to be displayed, repaired to Vallecetos. +But, on arriving at that place, he learned with deep regret, that the +only inhabitant had left a few days previous, having availed himself of +the opportunity presented by a passing emigrant's horse,--and that, in +consequence, the opening of the Institute was indefinitely postponed. +Under these circumstances, and yielding with reluctance to the earnest +solicitations of many eminent scientific friends, he has been induced to +place the Lectures before the public in their present form. Should they +meet with that success which his sanguine friends prognosticate, the +author may be induced subsequently to publish them in the form of a +text-book, for the use of the higher schools and universities; it being +his greatest ambition to render himself useful in his day and generation +by widely disseminating the information he has acquired among those who, +less fortunate, are yet willing to receive instruction. + +JOHN PHOENIX. +SAN DIEGO OBSERVATORY, September 1, 1854. + + * * * * * + +LECTURES ON ASTRONOMY--PART I + +CHAPTER I + +The term Astronomy is derived from two Latin words,--_Astra_, a star, +and _onomy_, a science; and literally means the science of the stars. +"It is a science," to quote our friend Dick (who was no relation at all +of Big Dick, though the latter occasionally caused individuals to see +stars), "which has, in all ages, engaged the attention of the poet, the +philosopher, and the divine, and been the subject of their study and +admiration." + +By the wondrous discoveries of the improved telescopes of modern times, +we ascertain that upward of several hundred millions of stars exist, +that are invisible to the naked eye--the nearest of which is millions of +millions of miles from the Earth; and as we have every reason to suppose +that every one of this inconceivable number of worlds is peopled like +our own, a consideration of this fact--and that we are undoubtedly as +superior to these beings as we are to the rest of mankind--is calculated +to fill the mind of the American with a due sense of his own importance +in the scale of animated creation. + +It is supposed that each of the stars we see in the Heavens in a +cloudless night is a sun shining upon its own curvilinear, with light of +its own manufacture; and as it would be absurd to suppose its light and +heat were made to be diffused for nothing, it is presumed farther, that +each sun, like an old hen, is provided with a parcel of little chickens, +in the way of planets, which, shining but feebly by its reflected light, +are to us invisible. To this opinion we are led, also, by reasoning from +analogy, on considering our own Solar System. + +THE SOLAR SYSTEM is so called, not because we believe it to be the sole +system of the kind in existence, but from its principal body, the Sun, +the Latin name of which is _Sol_. (Thus we read of Sol Smith, literally +meaning the _son_ of Old Smith.) On a close examination of the Heavens +we perceive numerous brilliant stars which shine with a steady light +(differing from those which surround them, which are always twinkling +like a dewdrop on a cucumber-vine), and which, moreover, do not preserve +constantly the same relative distance from the stars near which they are +first discovered. These are the planets of the SOLAR SYSTEM, which have +no light of their own--of which the Earth, on which we reside, is +one--which shine by light reflected from the Sun--and which regularly +move around that body at different intervals of time and through +different ranges in space. Up to the time of a gentleman named +Copernicus, who flourished about the middle of the Fifteenth Century, it +was supposed by our stupid ancestors that the Earth was the center of +all creation, being a large, flat body resting on a rock which rested on +another rock, and so on "all the way down"; and that the Sun, planets +and immovable stars all revolved about it once in twenty-four hours. + +This reminds us of the simplicity of a child we once saw in a +railroad-car, who fancied itself perfectly stationary, and thought the +fences, houses and fields were tearing past it at the rate of thirty +miles an hour;--and poking out its head, to see where on earth they went +to, had its hat--a very nice one with pink ribbons--knocked off and +irrecoverably lost. But Copernicus (who was a son of Daniel Pernicus, of +the firm of Pernicus & Co., wool-dealers, and who was named Co. +Pernicus, out of respect to his father's partners) soon set this matter +to rights, and started the idea of the present Solar System, which, +greatly improved since his day, is occasionally called the Copernican +system. By this system we learn that the Sun is stationed at one _focus_ +(not hocus, as it is rendered, without authority by the philosopher +Partington) of an ellipse, where it slowly grinds on for ever about its +own axis, while the planets, turning about their axes, revolve in +elliptical orbits of various dimensions and different planes of +inclination around it. + +The demonstration of this system in all its perfection was left to Isaac +Newton, an English Philosopher, who, seeing an apple tumble down from a +tree, was led to think thereon with such gravity, that he finally +discovered the attraction of gravitation, which proved to be the great +law of Nature that keeps everything in its place. Thus we see that as +an apple originally brought sin and ignorance into the world, the same +fruit proved thereafter the cause of vast knowledge and +enlightenment;--and indeed we may doubt whether any other fruit but an +apple, and a sour one at that, would have produced these great +results;--for, had the fallen fruit been a pear, an orange, or a peach, +there is little doubt that Newton would have eaten it up and thought no +more on the subject. + +As in this world you will hardly ever find a man so small but that he +has someone else smaller than he, to look up to and revolve around him, +so in the Solar System we find that the majority of the planets have one +or more smaller planets revolving about them. These small bodies are +termed secondaries, moons or satellites--the planets themselves being +called primaries. + +We know at present of eighteen primaries, viz.: Mercury, Venus, the +Earth, Mars, Flora, Vesta, Iris, Metis, Hebe, Astrea, Juno, Ceres, +Pallas, Hygeia, Jupiter, Saturn, Herschel, Neptune, and another, yet +unnamed. There are distributed among these, nineteen secondaries, all of +which, except our Moon, are invisible to the naked eye. + +We shall now proceed to consider, separately, the different bodies +composing the Solar System, and to make known what little information, +comparatively speaking, science has collected regarding them. And, first +in order, as in place, we come to + + +THE SUN + +This glorious orb may be seen almost any clear day, by looking intently +in its direction, through a piece of smoked glass. Through this medium +it appears about the size of a large orange, and of much the same color. +It is, however, somewhat larger, being in fact 887,000 miles in +diameter, and containing a volume of matter equal to fourteen hundred +thousand globes of the size of the Earth, which is certainly a matter of +no small importance. Through the telescope it appears like an enormous +globe of fire, with many spots upon its surface, which, unlike those of +the leopard, are continually changing. These spots were first discovered +by a gentleman named Galileo, in the year 1611. Though the Sun is +usually termed and considered the luminary of day, it may not be +uninteresting to our readers to know that it certainly has been seen in +the night. A scientific friend of ours from New England (Mr. R.W. +Emerson) while traveling through the northern part of Norway, with a +cargo of tinware, on the 21st of June, 1836, distinctly saw the Sun in +all its majesty, shining at midnight!--in fact, shining _all_ night! +Emerson is not what you would call a superstitious man, by any +means--but, he left! Since that time many persons have observed its +nocturnal appearance in that part of the country, at the same time of +the year. This phenomenon has never been witnessed in the latitude of +San Diego, however, and it is very improbable that it ever will be. +Sacred history informs us that a distinguished military man, named +Joshua, once caused the Sun to "stand still"; how he did it, is not +mentioned. There can, of course, be no doubt of the fact, that he +arrested its progress, and possibly caused it to "stand _still_";--but +translators are not always perfectly accurate, and we are inclined to +the opinion that it might have wiggled a very little, when Joshua was +not looking directly at it. The statement, however, does not appear so +very incredible, when we reflect that seafaring men are in the habit of +actually _bringing the Sun down_ to the horizon every day at 12 +Meridian. This they effect by means of a tool made of brass, glass, and +silver, called a sextant. The composition of the Sun has long been a +matter of dispute. + +By close and accurate observation with an excellent opera-glass we have +arrived at the conclusion that its entire surface is covered with water +to a very great depth; which water, being composed by a process known at +present only to the Creator of the Universe and Mr. Paine, of Worcester, +Massachusetts, generates carburetted hydrogen gas, which, being +inflamed, surrounds the entire body with an ocean of fire, from which +we, and the other planets, receive our light and heat. The spots upon +its surface are glimpses of water, obtained through the fire; and we +call the attention of our old friend and former schoolmate, Mr. Agassiz, +to this fact; as by closely observing one of these spots with a strong +refracting telescope he may discover a new species of fish, with little +fishes inside of them. It is possible that the Sun may burn out after a +while, which would leave this world in a state of darkness quite +uncomfortable to contemplate; but even under these circumstances it is +pleasant to reflect that courting and love-making would probably +increase to an indefinite extent, and that many persons would make large +fortunes by the sudden rise in value of coal, wood, candles, and gas, +which would go to illustrate the truth of the old proverb, "It's an ill +wind that blows nobody any good." + +Upon the whole, the Sun is a glorious creation; pleasing to gaze upon +(through smoked glass), elevating to think upon, and exceedingly +comfortable to every created being on a cold day; it is the largest, the +brightest, and may be considered by far the most magnificent object in +the celestial sphere; though with all these attributes it must be +confessed that it is occasionally entirely eclipsed by the moon. + + +CHAPTER II + +We shall now proceed to the consideration of the several planets. + + +MERCURY + +This planet, with the exception of the asteroids, is the smallest of the +system. It is the nearest to the Sun, and, in consequence, can not be +seen (on account of the Sun's superior light), except at its greatest +eastern and western elongations, which occur in March and April, August +and September, when it may be seen for a short time immediately after +sunset and shortly before sunrise. It then appears like a star of the +first magnitude, having a white twinkling light, and resembling somewhat +the star Regulus in the constellation Leo. The day in Mercury is about +ten minutes longer than ours, its year is about equal to three of our +months. It receives six and a half times as much heat from the Sun as we +do; from which we conclude that the climate must be very similar to that +of Fort Yuma, on the Colorado River. The difficulty of communication +with Mercury will probably prevent its ever being selected as a military +post; though it possesses many advantages for that purpose, being +extremely inaccessible, inconvenient, and, doubtless, singularly +uncomfortable. It receives its name from the God, Mercury, in the +Heathen Mythology, who is the patron and tutelary Divinity of San Diego +County. + + +VENUS + +This beautiful planet may be seen either a little after sunset or +shortly before sunrise, according as it becomes the morning or the +evening star, but never departing quite forty-eight degrees from the +Sun. Its day is about twenty-five minutes shorter than ours; its year +seven and a half months or thirty-two weeks. The diameter of Venus is +7,700 miles, and she receives from the Sun thrice as much light and heat +as the Earth. + +An old Dutchman named Schroeter spent more than ten years in +observations on this planet, and finally discovered a mountain on it +twenty-two miles in height, but he never could discover anything on the +mountain, not even a mouse, and finally died about as wise as when he +commenced his studies. + +Venus, in Mythology, was a Goddess of singular beauty, who became the +wife of Vulcan, the blacksmith, and, we regret to add, behaved in the +most immoral manner after her marriage. The celebrated case of Vulcan +_vs._ Mars, and the consequent scandal, is probably still fresh in the +minds of our readers. By a large portion of society, however, she was +considered an ill-used and persecuted lady, against whose high tone of +morals and strictly virtuous conduct not a shadow of suspicion could be +cast; Vulcan, by the same parties, was considered a horrid brute, and +they all agreed that it served him right when he lost his case and had +to pay the costs of court. Venus still remains the Goddess of Beauty, +and not a few of her _protégés_ may be found in California. + + +THE EARTH + +The Earth, or as the Latins called it, Tellus (from which originated the +expression, "Do tell us"), is the third planet in the Solar System, and +the one on which we subsist, with all our important joys and sorrows. +The San Diego Herald is published weekly on this planet, for five +dollars per annum, payable invariably in advance. As the Earth is by no +means the most important planet in the system, there is no reason to +suppose that it is particularly distinguished from the others by being +inhabited. It is reasonable, therefore, to conclude that all the other +planets of the system are filled with living, moving and sentient +beings; and as some of them are superior to the Earth in size and +position, it is not improbable that their inhabitants may be superior to +us in physical and mental organization. + +But if this were a demonstrable fact, instead of a mere hypothesis, it +would be found a very difficult matter to persuade us of its truth. To +the inhabitants of Venus the Earth appears like a brilliant star--very +much, in fact, as Venus appears to us; and, reasoning from analogy, we +are led to believe that the election of Mr. Pierce, the European war, or +the split in the great Democratic party produced but very little +excitement among them. + +To the inhabitants of Jupiter, our important globe appears like a small +star of the fourth or fifth magnitude. We recollect, some years ago, +gazing with astonishment upon the inhabitants of a drop of water, +developed by the Solar Microscope, and secretly wondering whether they +were or not reasoning beings, with souls to be saved. It is not +altogether a pleasant reflection that a highly scientific inhabitant of +Jupiter, armed with a telescope of (to us) inconceivable form, may be +pursuing a similar course of inquiry, and indulging in similar +speculations regarding our Earth and its inhabitants. Gazing with +curious eye, his attention is suddenly attracted by the movements of a +grand celebration of Fourth of July in New York, or a mighty convention +in Baltimore. "God bless my soul," he exclaims, "I declare they're +alive, these little creatures; do see them wriggle!" To an inhabitant of +the Sun, however, he of Jupiter is probably quite as insignificant, and +the Sun man is possibly a mere atom in the opinion of a dweller in +Sirius. A little reflection on these subjects leads to the opinion that +the death of an individual man on this Earth, though perhaps as +important an event as can occur to himself, is calculated to cause no +great convulsion of Nature or disturb particularly the great aggregate +of created beings. + +The Earth moves round the Sun from west to east in a year, and turns on +its axis in a day; thus moving at the rate of 68,000 miles an hour in +its orbit, and rolling around at the tolerably rapid rate of 1,040 +miles per hour. As our readers may have seen that when a man is +galloping a horse violently over a smooth road, if the horse from +viciousness or other cause suddenly stops, the man keeps on at the same +rate over the animal's head; so we, supposing the Earth to be suddenly +arrested on its axis, men, women, children, horses, cattle and sheep, +donkeys, editors and members of Congress, with all our goods and +chattels, would be thrown off into the air at a speed of 173 miles a +minute, every mother's son of us describing the arc of a parabola, which +is probably the only description we should ever be able to give of the +affair. + +This catastrophe, to one sufficiently collected to enjoy it, would, +doubtless, be exceedingly amusing; but as there would probably be no +time for laughing, we pray that it may not occur until after our demise; +when, should it take place, our monument will probably accompany the +movement. It is a singular fact that if a man travel round the Earth in +an eastwardly direction he will find, on returning to the place of +departure, he has gained one whole day; the reverse of this proposition +being true also, it follows that the Yankees who are constantly +traveling to the West do not live as long by a day or two as they would +if they had stayed at home; and supposing each Yankee's time to be worth +$1.50 per day, it may be easily shown that a considerable amount of +money is annually lost by their roving dispositions. + +Science is yet but in its infancy; with its growth, new discoveries of +an astounding nature will doubtless be made, among which, probably, will +be some method by which the course of the Earth may be altered and it +be steered with the same ease and regularity through space and among the +stars as a steamboat is now directed through the water. It will be a +very interesting spectacle to see the Earth "rounding to," with her head +to the air, off Jupiter, while the Moon is sent off laden with mails and +passengers for that planet, to bring back the return mails and a large +party of rowdy Jupiterians going to attend a grand prize fight in the +ring of Saturn. + +Well, Christopher Columbus would have been just as much astonished at a +revelation of the steamboat and the locomotive engine as we should be to +witness the above performance, which our intelligent posterity during +the ensuing year A.D. 2000 will possibly look upon as a very ordinary +and common-place affair. + +Only three days ago we asked a medium where Sir John Franklin was at +that time; to which he replied, he was cruising about (officers and crew +all well) on the interior of the Earth, to which he had obtained +entrance through SYMMES HOLE! + +With a few remarks upon the Earth's Satellite, we conclude the first +Lecture on Astronomy; the remainder of the course being contained in a +second Lecture, treating of the planets, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn and +Neptune, the Asteroids, and the fixed stars, which last, being +"fixings," are, according to Mr. Charles Dickens, American property. + + +THE MOON + +This resplendent luminary, like a youth on the Fourth of July, has its +first quarter; like a ruined spendthrift its last quarter, and like an +omnibus, is occasionally full and new. The evenings on which it appears +between these last stages are beautifully illumined by its clear, mellow +light. + +The Moon revolves in an elliptical orbit about the Earth in twenty-nine +days twelve hours forty-four minutes and three seconds, the time which +elapses between one new Moon and another. It was supposed by the ancient +philosophers that the Moon was made of green cheese, an opinion still +entertained by the credulous and ignorant. Kepler and Tyco Brahe, +however, held to the opinion that it was composed of Charlotte Russe, +the dark portions of its surface being sponge cake, the light _blanc +mange_. Modern advances in science and the use of Lord Rosse's famous +telescope have demonstrated the absurdity of all these speculations by +proving conclusively that the Moon is mainly composed of the +_Ferro_--_sesqui_--_cyanuret, of the cyanide of potassium_! Up to the +latest dates from the Atlantic States, no one has succeeded in reaching +the Moon. Should anyone do so hereafter, it will probably be a woman, as +the sex will never cease making an exertion for that purpose as long as +there is a man in it. + +Upon the whole, we may consider the Moon an excellent institution, among +the many we enjoy under a free, republican form of government, and it is +a blessed thing to reflect that the President of the United States can +not _veto_ it, no matter how strong an inclination he may feel, from +principle or habit, to do so. + +It has been ascertained beyond a doubt that the Moon has no air. +Consequently, the common expressions, "the Moon was gazing down with an +air of benevolence," or with "an air of complacency," or with "an air of +calm superiority," are incorrect and objectionable, the fact being that +the Moon has no air at all. + +The existence of the celebrated "Man in the Moon" has been frequently +questioned by modern philosophers. The whole subject is involved in +doubt and obscurity. The only authority we have for believing that such +an individual exists, and has been seen and spoken with, is a fragment +of an old poem composed by an ancient Astronomer of the name of Goose, +which has been handed down to us as follows: + + "The man in the Moon came down too soon + To inquire the way to Norwich; + The man in the South, he burned his mouth, + Eating cold, hot porridge." + +The evidence conveyed in this distich is, however, rejected by the +skeptical, among modern Astronomers, who consider the passage an +allegory. "The man in the South," being supposed typical of the late +John C. Calhoun, and the "cold, hot porridge," alluded to the project of +nullification. + +END OF LECTURE FIRST + + + NOTE BY THE AUTHOR--Itinerant Lecturers are cautioned against + making use of the above production, without obtaining the necessary + authority from the proprietors of the Pioneer Magazine. To those + who may obtain such authority, it may be well to state that at the + close of the Lecture it was the intention of the author to exhibit + and explain to the audience an orrery, accompanying and + interspersing his remarks by a choice selection of popular airs on + the hand-organ. + + An economical orrery may be constructed by attaching eighteen wires + of graduated lengths to the shaft of a candlestick, apples of + different sizes being placed at their extremities to represent the + Planets, and a central orange resting on the candlestick, + representing the Sun. + + An orrery of this description is, however, liable to the objection + that if handed around among the audience for examination, it is + seldom returned uninjured. The author has known an instance in + which a child four years of age, on an occasion of this kind, + devoured in succession the planets Jupiter and Herschel, and bit a + large spot out of the Sun before he could be arrested. + + J.P. + + + + +AT AUNTY'S HOUSE + +BY JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY + + + One time, when we'z at Aunty's house-- + 'Way in the country!--where + They's ist but woods--an' pigs, an' cows-- + An' all's out-doors an' air!-- + An' orchurd-swing; an' churry-trees-- + An' _churries_ in 'em!--Yes, an' these- + Here red-head birds steals all they please, + An' tetch 'em ef you dare!-- + W'y, wunst, one time, when we wuz there, + _We et out on the porch_! + + Wite where the cellar-door wuz shut + The table wuz; an' I + Let Aunty set by me an' cut + My vittuls up--an' pie. + 'Tuz awful funny!--I could see + The red-heads in the churry-tree; + An' bee-hives, where you got to be + So keerful, goin' by;-- + An' "Comp'ny" there an' all!--an' we-- + _We et out on the porch_! + + An' I ist et _p'surves_ an' things + 'At Ma don't 'low me to-- + An' _chickun-gizzurds_--(don't like _wings_ + Like _Parunts_ does! do _you_?) + An' all the time, the wind blowed there, + An' I could feel it in my hair, + An' ist smell clover _ever_'where!-- + An' a' old red-head flew + Purt' nigh wite over my high-chair, + _When we et on the porch_! + + + + +WILLY AND THE LADY + +BY GELETT BURGESS + + + Leave the lady, Willy, let the racket rip, + She is going to fool you, you have lost your grip, + Your brain is in a muddle and your heart is in a whirl, + Come along with me, Willy, never mind the girl! + + Come and have a man-talk; + Come with those who _can_ talk; + Light your pipe and listen, and the boys will see you through; + Love is only chatter, + Friends are all that matter; + Come and talk the man-talk; that's the cure for you! + + Leave the lady, Willy, let her letter wait, + You'll forget your troubles when you get it straight, + The world is full of women, and the women full of wile; + Come along with me, Willy, we can make you smile! + + Come and have a man-talk, + A rousing black-and-tan talk, + There are plenty there to teach you; there's a lot for you to do; + Your head must stop its whirling + Before you go a-girling; + Come and talk the man-talk; that's the cure for you! + + Leave the lady, Willy, the night is good and long, + Time for beer and 'baccy, time to have a song; + Where the smoke is swirling, sorrow if you can-- + Come along with me, Willy, come and be a man! + + Come and have a man-talk, + Come with those who _can_ talk, + Light your pipe and listen, and the boys will see you through; + Love is only chatter, + Friends are all that matter; + Come and talk the man-talk; that's the cure for you! + + Leave the lady, Willy, you are rather young; + When the tales are over, when the songs are sung, + When the men have made you, try the girl again; + Come along with me, Willy, you'll be better then! + + Come and have a man-talk, + Forget your girl-divan talk; + You've got to get acquainted with another point of view! + Girls will only fool you; + We're the ones to school you; + Come and talk the man-talk; that's the cure for you! + + + + +THE ITINERANT TINKER + +BY CHARLES RAYMOND MACAULEY + + +Away off in front, and coming toward them along the same path, appeared +a singularly misshapen figure. As they came nearer, Dickey saw that it +was an old man carrying on his back, at each side and in front of him, +some part or piece of almost every imaginable thing. Umbrellas, chair +bottoms, panes of glass, knives, forks, pans, dusters, tubs, spoons and +stove-lids, graters and grind-stones, saws and samovars,--"Almost +everything one could possibly think of," said Dickey to himself. + +The moment that the Fantasm caught sight of the strange figure he +stopped, and Dickey noticed that his face, which was tucked securely +under his left arm, turned quite pale. + +"Gracious me!" he exclaimed in a thoroughly frightened way. "There's the +Itinerant Tinker again! Now," he added hastily and dolefully, "I shall +have to leave you and run for it." + +"Why, you're surely not afraid of _him_!" Dickey exclaimed +incredulously. Dickey was really surprised, for the old man, so far as +he could judge from that distance, wore an extremely mild and kindly +look. "Why do you have to run?" he asked. + +"Why? _Why?_" the Fantasm fairly shouted. "I told you a moment ago that +he was the _Itinerant Tinker_! He tries to mend every broken and +unbroken thing in Fantasma Land! Every time he catches me," went on the +Fantasm, as he edged cautiously away, "he tries to glue on my head. It's +very annoying--and, besides, it hurts! Good-by, Dickey!" he called, and +disappeared forthwith into the bushes. + +"Isn't he a droll person?" thought Dickey. "He never stops with me more +than ten minutes at a time but what he either loses his head or runs +away." + +By that time the Itinerant Tinker had come up to where Dickey stood. He +sat wearily down on a boulder by the wayside, removed some of the +heavier merchandise from off his back, and proceeded to mop his face +vigorously with a great red handkerchief. Dickey waited several minutes +for the old man to speak; but the Itinerant Tinker only regarded him +solemnly. He did not even smile. + +"It's very warm work, sir," ventured Dickey, at last, "carrying all that +stuff--isn't it?" + +"Stuff?" returned the Itinerant Tinker, in a very mild, but unmistakably +hurt tone of voice. + +"Well--" Dickey hesitated timidly. + +"_Don't_ call them stuff, please," sighed the Itinerant Tinker; "call +them necessary commodities." + +"But whatever one _does_ call them," Dickey persisted, "they still make +you warm to carry them all about, don't they?" + +The Itinerant Tinker nodded his head and sighed again. + +Again Dickey waited for a considerable space of time. But the old man +would have been perfectly content to sit there for ever, Dickey thought, +without speaking. "I _do_ wish he would talk," said he to himself. +"It's awfully annoying to have him sit there and look at one without +saying a word." + +"What do you mend, sir?" Dickey inquired at last. + +"I tried once," sighed the Itinerant Tinker, sadly, "to mend the break +of day. It took me twenty-seven hours and eleven minutes to fix it, and +it broke every twenty-four. At that rate how long would it take to patch +them all together?" + +Another distressing silence. + +"Have you figured _that_ out?" whispered the Itinerant Tinker at length. + +"I haven't tried," Dickey admitted. + +"_I_ tried once," the Itinerant Tinker said, "but I ran out of paper and +gave it up. Then, when the night fell," he resumed dolefully, after +another long interval of silence, "I tried to prop it up. But I met with +the same difficulty that confronted me in patching up the day, and was +forced to abandon _that_ too." + +"In which direction were you going when I met you?" Dickey asked. + +The Itinerant Tinker pointed ahead of him along the path and mopped his +bald head. + +"But where?" insisted Dickey. + +"To the Crypt. I was going to the Crypt," murmured the Itinerant Tinker, +"to see whether I couldn't get some umbrellas to mend." + +"But they don't need umbrellas in the Crypt, do they?" Dickey asked, +surprised. + +"No, they don't," sighed the Itinerant Tinker; "and _that's_ the reason +I'm going there." + +"If you don't mind," said Dickey, "I should like to go with you." + +Without a word of reply the Itinerant Tinker rose slowly and painfully +to his feet, rearranged on his back the merchandise he had laid aside, +and started off up the hill, with Dickey following closely at his heels. + +"I tried to mend the Great Dipper once," resumed the Itinerant Tinker, +at length. "I only succeeded, however, in crooking the handle; but it +looks better that way, I think." + +"How did you manage to reach it?" asked Dickey, a little doubtfully. + +"I climbed up the Milky Way," replied the Itinerant Tinker, sadly. "In +order to reach it after I got there, I was obliged to stand on the horn +of the moon. It was a very perilous undertaking." + +Dickey couldn't believe quite all that the Itinerant Tinker was telling +him. But his mild and gentle eyes wore such a serious expression that he +very much disliked to doubt the old man's word. + +"Speaking of the moon," went on the Itinerant Tinker after a while, "I +tried once to make her stand up--after she had set, you know. It proved +a thankless task. She treated me very rudely, indeed. By the by, have +you seen the Flighty-wight?" + +"No, sir; I have not," replied Dickey. + +"_He's_ always jumping at conclusions, you know. I jumped at a +conclusion once, fell into disgrace, and was very much cut up over it. I +tried to patch _him_ up and he called me an old meddler! You haven't +heard of such ingratitude before, I fancy?" + +"It was very mean of him, I think," said Dickey, sympathetically. + +"Oh, _that's_ nothing," pursued the Itinerant Tinker, in a melancholy +tone. "That's _nothing_! I once attempted to solder a new tip on the +Wizard's wand. He turned me into a rabbit, _he_ did." + +"Whatever did you do then?" asked Dickey. + +"I protested, of course. He merely said that he was only making game of +me. But if there's any one thing that I can do better than another," +went on the Itinerant Tinker, after another embarrassing pause, "it's +piecing together a split infinitive. Would you like me to show you how +it's done?" + +"Indeed, I should," Dickey eagerly answered; "very much, indeed." + +"Very well, then. Just give me time to set down these necessary +commodities, and I'll show you exactly the manner in which it's done and +undone." + +After he had rid himself of his awkward burden, the Itinerant Tinker +carefully selected a saw from his kit of tools. + +"Is that a log over there?" he asked, pointing toward a mound of earth. +"I'm a trifle nearsighted, you know." + +"No," Dickey replied. "But there's one off there, just to the other +side. A big one, too." + +"The identical thing," said the Itinerant Tinker. Whereupon he walked +over to it and immediately began sawing a thin slab from off its smooth +end. + +"Now," said he, after he had finished the rather difficult task, oiled +his saw and returned it to his kit, "I proceed to write the word LOVE in +the infinitive mood." + +"Is that a sad mood?" asked Dickey. "It sounds very much like it, I +think." + +Without heeding the question in the least the Itinerant Tinker turned +the slab for Dickey's inspection, and he read on it the two words, TO +LOVE. Taking up a wedge the Itinerant Tinker printed the word DEARLY on +the flat side of it, and then skilfully drove it between the words TO +and LOVE. When he again held it up for Dickey to see, it read: TO DEARLY +LOVE. + +"There!" exclaimed the Itinerant Tinker, holding the slab proudly at +arm's length and turning his head slowly from side to side, "that's what +I call a fine bit of ingenuity!" + +"So that's a split infinitive, is it?" Dickey asked. + +"Why, you _stupid_ boy!" the Itinerant Tinker exclaimed; "didn't you +just this minute see me split it?" + +"Yes, sir; I did," Dickey murmured rather shamefacedly. + +"Then, if I _split_ it, what else _could_ it be but a split infinitive, +I'd like to know?" + +"Well," said Dickey, a bit timidly, "I never heard a block of wood +called an _infinitive_ before." + +"Oh, my!" sighed the Itinerant Tinker, as he sank down on his pile of +merchandise. "How you _do_ weary me!" + +He sat looking at the slab of wood for such a long time, turning it +admiringly now that way, now this, that poor Dickey began to grow quite +nervous. + +"Please," he ventured at last, "won't you show me now how you mend it?" +Dickey didn't care in the least to see it done, but he imagined that by +asking the question he would regain the good will of the old man. + +"There you go again! There you go!" exclaimed the Itinerant Tinker. He +actually shed a tear. "I knew you'd do it--I knew it!" + +"Now what have I done?" asked Dickey, innocently. + +"You've broken the silence," said the Itinerant Tinker, sadly. "It'll +take me hours and hours to glue _that_ together. But first," he went on, +after another long pause, "I'll show you how neatly this split +infinitive can be mended." + +Thereupon he withdrew the wedge, dipped a brush into a pot of glue, and, +after distributing the sticky fluid over the split sides, brought them +carefully and neatly together. + +"There!" he exclaimed, triumphantly, "_that's_ the proper way to bring +together a split infinitive. Beware, my boy, of splitting your +infinitives; but if you do, call on the Itinerant Tinker and _he'll_ +straighten 'em out for you." + +"Before we move along," he resumed, after he had loaded himself with his +merchandise, "perhaps you'd like to listen to a story?" + +"I should, if it wasn't about split infinitives," replied Dickey, +doubtfully. "They really make me quite dizzy." + +"Well, it's not," said the Itinerant Tinker, smiling vaguely. "It's the +story of the + +PEDANTIC PEDAGOGUE + + "I saw him sitting--sitting there, + Outside the school-house door, + It was a dismal afternoon; + The hour was half-past four. + + "I asked him, 'Sir, what is your name?' + His voice came through the fog: + 'I have forgotten it, kind sir, + But I'm a Pedagogue. + + "'And I'm so absent-minded, sir, + I put my clothes to bed + And hang myself upon a chair; + Is not that odd?' he said. + + "'And every morning of my life + I climb into my tub; + Then wonder why I'm sitting there. + Ah, me, man! _that's_ the rub!' + + "He wiped his spectacles and said: + 'Kind sir, observe this frog. + I took him in this net, when he + Was but a pollywog. + + "'Now it's my wish, good sir, to seek + The seismocosmic state; + And why this strange amphibian + Should slowly gravitate + + "'From a mere firmisternial thing + To--' 'Say!' I cried, 'please wait! + I can not understand a word + Of that which you relate.' + + "'Now, please tell me,' he said again, + 'The sum of the equation + Between the harp and hippogriff; + Define their true relation.' + + "'I can not answer you,' I said, + 'Because I'm but a tinker. + But I can mend your old umbrel'; + 'Twill be a dime, I think, sir.' + + "Just then the frog dived off his hand + And swam out to the fence, + Which was an easy thing to do-- + The vapor was so dense. + + "And there he perched upon a post; + It was a sight to see + The way he made grimaces at + The Pedagogue and me. + + "It vexed us very much to see + A frog so impolite + I flung a gnarly stick at him-- + Flung it with all my might. + + "It floated softly on the fog. + As softly as a feather; + The frog jumped on and sailed away, + Leaving us there together + + "A-shaking both our fists at him + Till they were sore and numb. + The bull-frog merely blinked at us, + And sang: '_You'll drown!_ BOTTLE-O'-RUM!' + + "With that I left the Pedagogue + A-sitting in the wet. + He was so absent-minded, I + Dare say he's sitting yet-- + + "Upon the little school-house steps, + Revolving in his mind + The definite relation 'twixt + The cosmos and mankind." + +When the Itinerant Tinker had finished his story he rose wearily to his +feet. + +"If we don't hurry along," he said, "I doubt whether we shall reach the +Crypt in time to take our tea. I never--" + +He was interrupted at this point by a shrill voice, coming, it seemed, +from the direction of the forest. + +"Jingle-junk! jingle-junk! jingle-junk!" shouted the penetrating voice. + +The Itinerant Tinker stopped instantly. An angry frown gathered on his +brow. + +"I know who _that_ is," he muttered. "It's Wamba, son of Witless, the +Jester of Ivanhoe. I've been trying to catch _him_ for seventy-two +years, and if I do, I'll--" + +Dickey never heard the end of the sentence for the Itinerant Tinker made +for the wood at a surprisingly swift gait. The incident had its really +amusing side, too; for he left behind him a trail of pots, pans, +boilers, stove-lids, potato-mashers--in fact, Dickey thought, he must +have dropped almost all of his "necessary commodities" by the time he +had vanished into the wood. + + + + +THE STRIKE OF ONE + +BY ELLIOTT FLOWER + + +Danny Burke was discharged. + +A certain distinguished ex-President of the United States probably would +have said that he was discharged for "pernicious activity"; but the head +of the branch messenger-office merely said that he was "an infernal +nuisance." + +Danny was a good union man. As a matter of fact, he was a boy, and a +small boy at that; but he would have scorned any description that did +not put him down as "a good union man." Danny's environment had been one +of uncompromising unionism, and that was what ailed him. He wanted to +advance the union idea. To this end, he undertook to organize the other +messengers in the branch office, advancing all the arguments that he had +heard his mother and his father use in their discussions. The boys +thought favorably of the scheme, but most of them were inclined to let +some one else do the experimenting. It might result disastrously. Just +to encourage them, Danny became insolent, as he had already become +inattentive; he told the manager what he would do and what he would not +do, and positively declined to deliver a message that would carry his +work a few minutes beyond quitting-time. + +Then Danny was discharged--and he laughed. Discharge _him_! Well, he'd +show them a thing or two. + +"We'll arbitrate," he announced. + +"Get out!" ordered the manager. + +"You got to arbitrate," insisted Danny. "You got to confer with your men +or you're goin' to have a strike!" Danny had heard so much about +conferences that he felt he was on safe ground now. "We can't stand fer +no autycrats!" he added. "You got to meet your men fair an' talk it +over. A committee--" + +"Get out!" repeated the manager, rising from his desk, near which the +waiting boys were seated. + +"Men," yelled Danny, "I calls a strike an' a boycott!" + +Two of the boys rose as if to follow him, but the manager was too quick. +He had Danny by the collar before Danny knew what had happened, and the +struggling boy was marched to the door and pushed out. The boys who had +risen promptly subsided. + +Danny was too astonished for words. In all his extended hearsay +knowledge of strikes he never had heard of anything like this. There was +nothing heroic in it at all. He had expected a conference, and, instead, +he was ignominiously handled and thrust into the street. + +Danny sat down on a pile of paving-stones to think it over. Without +reasoning the matter out, he now regarded himself as a union. The other +members had deserted him, but he was on a strike; and somehow he had +absorbed the idea that the men who were striking were always the union +men. So, this being a strike of one, he was an entire union. It did not +take him long to decide that the first thing to do was to "picket the +plant." That was a familiar phrase, and he knew the meaning of it. +Everything was nicely arranged for him, too. The street was being paved, +and he was sitting on some paving-stones, with a pile of gravel beside +him. He selected fifteen or twenty of the largest stones from the +gravel-pile. + +A woman was the first victim. As she was about to enter the +messenger-office she was startled by a yell of warning from Danny. + +"Hey, you!" he shouted. "Keep out!" + +She backed away hastily, and looked up to see if anything were about to +fall on her. + +"Why should I keep out?" she asked at last. + +"'Cause you'll git hit with a rock if you don't," was the prompt reply. + +"But, little boy--" she began. + +"I ain't a little boy," asserted Danny. "I'm a union." + +The woman looked puzzled, but she finally decided that this was some +boyish joke. + +"You'd better run home," she said, and turned to enter the +messenger-office. She could not refrain from looking over her shoulder, +however, and she saw that he was poised for a throw. + +"Don't do that!" she cried hastily. "You might hurt me." + +"Sure I'll hurt you," was the reply. "I'll smash your block in if you +don't git a move on." + +The woman decided to look for another messenger-office, and Danny, +triumphant, resumed his seat on the paving-stones. + +Then came another messenger, returning from a trip. + +"What's the matter, Danny?" he asked. + +"Got the plant picketed," asserted Danny. "Nobody can't go in or come +out." + +"I'm goin' in," said the other boy. + +"You!" exclaimed Danny scornfully, as he suddenly caught the boy and +swung him over on to the stones. + +"No, I ain't, Danny," the boy hastened to say, for Danny gave every +evidence of an intent to batter in his face. + +"Sure?" asked Danny. + +"Honest." + +"This here's a strike," explained Danny. + +"Oh, I didn't know that," apologized the boy. "I ain't a +strike-breaker." + +Danny let him up, but made him sit on another pile of stones a short +distance away. He would be all right as long as he kept still, Danny +explained, but no longer. + +While Danny was continuing strike operations with rapidly growing +enthusiasm, the woman he had first stopped was taking an unexpected part +in the little comedy. She had gone to another of the branch offices with +the message she wished delivered, and had told of the trouble she had +experienced. Thereupon the manager of this office called up the manager +of the other on the telephone. + +"What's the matter over there?" he asked. + +"Nothing," was the surprised reply. "Who said there was?" + +"Why, a woman has just reported that she was driven away by a boy with a +pile of stones." + +The manager hastened to the window, and realized at once that something +was decidedly wrong. On a pile of paving-stones directly in front of the +door sat the proud and happy Danny. At his feet there was a pile of +smaller stones, and he held a few in his hands. On his right was a boy +who had started on a trip a short time before, and on his left was one +who should have reported back. A man was gesticulating excitedly, a +number of others and some boys were laughing, and Danny seemed to be +intimating that any one who tried to enter would be hurt. + +"Jim," said the manager to the largest messenger, "go out there and see +what's the matter with Danny Burke. Tell him I'll have him arrested if +he doesn't get out." + +Danny was a wise general. He wanted no prisoners that he could not +handle easily, and this big boy would be dangerous to have within his +lines. The big boy was a sort of star messenger, who did not fraternize +with Danny anyhow. Consequently Danny fired a volley the moment he saw +who it was, and the big boy hastily retreated, bearing with him one bump +on the forehead. + +"That's Jim," Danny explained to the increasing crowd. "He's the +biggest, next to the boss. Watch me nail the boss." + +"You're the stuff!" exclaimed some of the delighted loiterers, thus +proving that the loiterers are just as anxious to see trouble in a small +strike as in a large one. + +Danny picked out a stone considerably larger than the others, for he +expected the manager to appear next, and the manager had incurred his +personal enmity. In the case of his victims thus far, he had acted +merely on principle--to win his point. + +The manager appeared. For his own prestige (necessary to maintain +discipline), the manager had to do something, but he felt reasonably +sure that the dignity of his official position would make Danny less +hasty and strenuous than he had been with others. The manager planned to +extend the olive branch and at the same time raise the siege by +beckoning Danny in, so that he might reason with him and show him how +surely he would land in a police station if he would not consent to be a +good boy. This would be quicker and better than summoning an officer. +But the manager got the big stone in the pit of his stomach just as he +had raised his hand to beckon, and he and his dignity collapsed +together, with a most plebeian grunt. As he had not closed the door, he +quickly rolled inside, where he lay on the floor with his hands on his +stomach and listened to the joyous yelps of the crowd outside. This was +too much for the manager. + +"Call up police headquarters," he said, still holding his stomach as if +fearful that it might become detached, "and tell them there's a riot +here." + +The boy addressed obeyed literally. + +Meanwhile Danny had decided that, as victory perched on his banners, it +was time to state the terms on which he would permit the enemy to +surrender, but he was too wise to put himself in the enemy's power +before these terms were settled. + +"Go in, Tim," was the order he gave to one of his prisoners, "an' tell +the guy with the stomick-ache that when he recognizes the union an' +gives me fifty cents more a week an' makes a work-day end when the clock +strikes, I'm willin' to call it off." + +"Make him come down handsome," advised one of the loiterers. + +"I guess I got 'em on the run," said Danny exultingly. + +But Tim went in and failed to come out. This was not Tim's fault, +however, for the manager released his hold on his stomach long enough to +get a grip on Tim's collar. The striker's defiance seemed to displease +him, and, because he could not shake Danny, he shook Tim, and he said +things to Tim that he would have preferred to say to Danny. Then his +excited harangue was interrupted by the sound of a gong, which convinced +him that he might again venture to the door. + +Danny was in the grasp of the strong arm of the law. A half dozen +policemen had valiantly rushed through the crowd and captured the entire +besieging party, which was Danny. + +"What you doin'?" demanded Danny angrily. + +"What are _you_ doing?" retorted the police sergeant in charge. + +"This here's a strike," asserted Danny. "I got the plant picketed." + +"Run him in!" ordered the manager from the doorway. + +"What's the row?" asked the sergeant. + +"That's the row," said the manager, pointing to Danny. + +"That!" exclaimed the sergeant scornfully. "You said it was a riot. You +don't call that kid a riot, do you?" + +"Well, it's assault and battery, anyhow," insisted the manager. "He hit +me with a rock." + +"Where?" asked the sergeant. + +"Where he carries his brains," said Danny, which made the crowd yelp +with joy again. + +"Lock him up!" cried the manager angrily. "I'll prefer the charge and +appear against him." + +The sergeant looked at Danny and then at the manager. + +"Say!" he said at last, "you ain't got the nerve to charge this kid with +assaulting you, have you?" + +"I'm going to do it," said the manager. + +"Oh, all right," returned the sergeant disgustedly. + +The crowd was disposed to protest, but the police were in sufficient +force to make resistance unsafe, and Danny was lifted into the +patrol-wagon. + +At the station the captain happened to be present when Danny was brought +in, escorted by a wagon-load of policemen. + +"What's the charge?" asked the captain. + +"Assault and battery on a grown man!" was the scornful reply of the +sergeant. + +"What did he do?" persisted the surprised captain. + +"Hurt his digestion with a rock," explained the sergeant. + +"I was on strike," said Danny. "I'm a good union man. You got no +business to touch me." + +"I understand," said the sergeant, "that he was discharged, and he +stationed himself outside with a pile of rocks." + +"You've no right to do that," the captain told Danny. + +"They all do it," asserted Danny. + +This was so near the truth that the captain thought it wise to dodge the +subject. + +"Of course, if no one else will take a man's place," he explained, "the +employer will have to take him back or--" + +"There wasn't nobody tryin' to take my place--not while I was there!" +asserted Danny belligerently. + +"That's no lie, either," laughed the sergeant. "He had the office tied +up tight." + +Danny swelled with pride at this testimonial to his prowess. Then it +suddenly occurred to him that the sergeant did not act as he talked. + +"What'd you butt in for, then?" he demanded. + +"It was his duty," said the captain. + +"Ho!" exclaimed Danny. "It's your business to protect the public, ain't +it?" + +"Of course," admitted the captain. + +"Well, ain't we the public?" + +The captain laughed uneasily. His experience as a policeman had left him +very much in doubt as to who were the public. Both sides to a +controversy always claimed that distinction, and the law-breaker was +usually the louder in his claims. Danny's inability to see anything but +his own side of the case was far from unusual. + +The captain took Danny into his private office and talked to him. The +captain did not wish to lock up the boy, so he sent for Danny's father +and also for the manager of the branch messenger-office. Meanwhile he +tried to explain the matter to Danny, but Danny was obtuse. Why should +not he do as his father and his father's friends did? When they had a +disagreement with the boss, they picketed the plant, and ensuing +incidents sent many people to the hospitals. Why was it worse for one +boy to do this than it was for some hundreds or thousands of men? Danny +was confident that he was within his rights. + +"Dad knows," he said in conclusion. "Dad'll say I'm right. You got no +business mixin' in." + +"Dad's coming," the captain told him. + +The manager came first. "The boy ought to be punished," said he. "He hit +me with a rock." + +"I wish you'd seen him," said the beaming Danny to the captain, for the +recollection of that victory made all else seem trivial. "Say! he +doubled up like a clown droppin' into a barrel." + +"If he isn't punished," asserted the glowering manager, "he'll get worse +and worse and end by going to the devil." + +"Perhaps," replied the captain. "But just stand beside him a moment, +please. Don't dodge, Danny. He'll go behind the bars if he touches you. +Stand side by side." + +They did so. + +"Now," said the captain to the manager, "how do you think you'll look, +standing beside him in the police court and accusing him of assault and +battery?" + +"Like a fool," replied the manager promptly, forced to laugh in spite of +himself. + +"And what kind of a story--illustrated story--will it be for the +papers?" persisted the captain. + +"Let him go," said the manager; "but he ought to be whaled." + +It was at this point that Dan arrived, accompanied by his wife. + +"F'r why sh'u'd he be whaled?" demanded the latter aggressively. + +The matter was explained to her. + +"Is that thrue, Danny?" she asked. + +"Sure," replied the boy. + +"Well, I'd like to see anny wan outside the fam'ly whale ye," she said, +with a defiant look at the manager, "but I'll do it mesilf." + +Danny was astounded. In this quarter at least he had expected support. +He glanced at his father. + +"I'll take a lick or two at ye mesilf," said Dan. "The idee of breakin' +the law an' makin' all this throuble." + +"You've done it yourself," argued Danny. + +"Shut up!" commanded Dan. "Ye don't know what ye're talkin' about. A +sthrike's wan thing an' disordherly conduct's another." + +"This was a strike," insisted Danny. + +"Where's the union?" demanded Dan. + +"I'm it," replied Danny. "I was organizin' it." + +"If ye'll let him go, Captain," said Dan, ignoring his son's reply, +"I'll larrup him good." + +"For what?" wailed Danny. "I was only doin' what you said was right, an' +what mom said was right, an' what you've all been talkin' for years. +You've been a picket yourself, an' I've heard you laughin' over the way +men who wouldn't strike was done up. We got to organize. Wasn't I +organizin'? We got to enforce our rights. Wasn't I enforcin' them? We +got to discourage traitors to the cause of labor. Wasn't I discouragin' +them? Didn't the union tie up a plant once when you was discharged? +What's eatin' you, dad?" + +Danny's own presentation of the case was so strong that it gave him +courage. But the last question made Dan jump, although he was not +accustomed to any extraordinary show of respect from his son. + +"The lad has no sinse," he announced, "but I'll larrup him plenty. Ye +get an exthry wan f'r that, Danny. I'll tache ye that ye're not runnin' +things." + +"Makin' throuble f'r father an' mother an' th' good man that's payin' ye +wages we need at home," added Mrs. Burke. + +"Now, what do you think of that?" whimpered Danny, as he was led away. +"I'm to be licked fer doin' what he does. Why don't he teach himself the +same, an' stop others from doin' what he talks?" + +"Danny," said the commiserating captain, "you're to be licked for +learning your lesson too well, and that's the truth." + +But that did not make the situation any the less painful for Danny. + + + + +SIMON STARTS IN THE WORLD + +BY J.J. HOOPER + + +Until Simon entered his seventeenth year he lived with his father, an +old "hard-shell" Baptist preacher, who, though very pious and remarkably +austere, was very avaricious. The old man reared his boy--or endeavored +to do so--according to the strictest requisitions of the moral law. But +he lived, at the time to which we refer, in Middle Georgia, which was +then newly settled; and Simon, whose wits were always too sharp for his +father's, contrived to contract all the coarse vices incident to such a +region. He stole his mother's roosters to fight them at Bob Smith's +grocery, and his father's plow-horses to enter them in "quarter" matches +at the same place. He pitched dollars with Bob Smith himself, and could +"beat him into doll rags" whenever it came to a measurement. To crown +his accomplishments, Simon was tip-top at the game of "old sledge," +which was the fashionable game of that era, and was early initiated in +the mysteries of "stocking the papers." The vicious habits of Simon +were, of course, a sore trouble to his father, Elder Jedediah. He +reasoned, he counseled, he remonstrated, and he lashed; but Simon was an +incorrigible, irreclaimable devil. One day the simple-minded old man +returned rather unexpectedly to the field, where he had left Simon and +Ben and a negro boy named Bill at work. Ben was still following his +plow, but Simon and Bill were in a fence corner, very earnestly engaged +at "seven up." Of course the game was instantly suspended as soon as +they spied the old man, sixty or seventy yards off, striding towards +them. + +It was evidently a "gone case" with Simon and Bill; but our hero +determined to make the best of it. Putting the cards into one pocket, he +coolly picked up the small coins which constituted the stake, and fobbed +them in the other, remarking, "Well, Bill, this game's blocked; we'd as +well quit." + +"But, Mass Simon," remarked the boy, "half dat money's mine. Ain't you +gwine to lemme hab 'em?" + +"Oh, never mind the money, Bill; the old man's going to take the bark +off both of us; and besides, with the hand I helt when we quit, I should +'a' beat you and won it all, any way." + +"Well, but Mass Simon, we nebber finish de game, and de rule--" + +"Go to the devil with your rule!" said the impatient Simon. "Don't you +see daddy's right down upon us, with an armful of hickories? I tell you, +I helt nothin' but trumps, and could 'a' beat the horns off a +billy-goat. Don't that satisfy you? Somehow or another, you're d--d hard +to please!" About this time a thought struck Simon, and in a low +tone--for by this time the Reverend Jedediah was close at hand--he +continued, "But may be daddy don't know, _right down sure_, what we've +been doin'. Let's try him with a lie--'twon't hurt, noway: let's tell +him we've been playin' mumble-peg." + +Bill was perforce compelled to submit to this inequitable adjustment of +his claim to a share of the stakes; and of course agreed to swear to +the game of mumble-peg. All this was settled, and a pig driven into the +ground, slyly and hurriedly, between Simon's legs as he sat on the +ground, just as the old man reached the spot. He carried under his left +arm several neatly-trimmed sprouts of formidable length, while in his +left hand he held one which he was intently engaged in divesting of its +superfluous twigs. + +"Soho, youngsters!--_you_ in the fence corner, and the _crap_ in the +grass. What saith the Scriptur', Simon? 'Go to the ant, thou sluggard,' +and so forth and so on. What in the round creation of the yearth have +you and that nigger been a-doin'?" + +Bill shook with fear, but Simon was cool as a cucumber, and answered his +father to the effect that they had been wasting a little time in the +game of mumble-peg. + +"Mumble-peg! mumble-peg!" repeated old Mr. Suggs. "What's that?" + +Simon explained the process of _rooting_ for the peg: how the operator +got upon his knees, keeping his arms stiff by his sides, leaned forward, +and extracted the peg with his teeth. + +"So you git _upon your knees_, do you, to pull up that nasty little +stick! You'd better git upon 'em to ask mercy for your sinful souls and +for a dyin' world. But let's see one o' you git the peg up now." + +The first impulse of our hero was to volunteer to gratify the curiosity +of his worthy sire, but a glance at the old man's countenance changed +his "notion," and he remarked that "Bill was a long ways the best hand." +Bill, who did not deem Simon's modesty an omen very favorable to +himself, was inclined to reciprocate, compliments with his young +master; but a gesture of impatience from the old man set him instantly +upon his knees, and, bending forward, he essayed to lay hold with his +teeth of the peg, which Simon, just at that moment, very wickedly pushed +a half inch further down. Just as the breeches and hide of the boy were +stretched to the uttermost, old Mr. Suggs brought down his longest +hickory, with both hands, upon the precise spot where the tension was +greatest. With a loud yell, Bill plunged forward, upsetting Simon, and +rolled in the grass, rubbing the castigated part with fearful energy. +Simon, though overthrown, was unhurt; and he was mentally complimenting +himself upon the sagacity which had prevented his illustrating the game +of mumble-peg for the paternal amusement, when his attention was +arrested by the old man's stooping to pick up something--what is it?--a +card upon which Simon had been sitting, and which, therefore, had not +gone with the rest of the pack into his pocket. The simple Mr. Suggs had +only a vague idea of the pasteboard abomination called _cards_; and +though he decidedly inclined to the opinion that this was one, he was by +no means certain of the fact. Had Simon known this he would certainly +have escaped; but he did not. His father, assuming the look of extreme +sapiency, which is always worn by the interrogator who does not desire +or expect to increase his knowledge by his questions, asked: + +"What's this, Simon?" + +"The Jack-a-dimunts," promptly responded Simon, who gave up all as lost +after this _faux pas_. + +"What was it doin' down thar, Simon, my sonny?" continued Mr. Suggs, in +an ironically affectionate tone of voice. + +"I had it under my leg, thar to make it on Bill, the first time it come +trumps," was the ready reply. + +"What's trumps?" asked Mr. Suggs, with a view of arriving at the import +of the word. + +"Nothin' ain't trumps now," said Simon, who misapprehended his father's +meaning, "but _clubs_ was, when you come along and busted up the game." + +A part of this answer was Greek to the Reverend Mr. Suggs, but a portion +of it was full of meaning. They had, then, most unquestionably, been +"throwing" cards, the scoundrels! the "oudacious" little hellions! + +"To the 'mulberry' with both on ye, in a hurry," said the old man +sternly. But the lads were not disposed to be in a "hurry," for the +"mulberry" was the scene of all formal punishment administered during +work hours in the field. Simon followed his father, however, but made, +as he went along, all manner of "faces" at the old man's back; +gesticulated as if he were going to strike him between the shoulders +with his fists, and kicking at him so as almost to touch his coat tail +with his shoe. In this style they walked on to the mulberry-tree, in +whose shade Simon's brother Ben was resting. + +It must not be supposed that, during the walk to the place of +punishment, Simon's mind was either inactive, or engaged in suggesting +the grimaces and contortions wherewith he was pantomimically expressing +his irreverent sentiments toward his father. Far from it. The movements +of his limbs and features were the mere workings of habit--the +self-grinding of the corporeal machine--for which his reasoning half was +only remotely responsible. For while Simon's person was thus, on its own +account "making game" of old Jed'diah, his wits, in view of the +anticipated flogging, were dashing, springing, bounding, darting about, +in hot chase of some expedient suitable to the necessities of the case; +much after the manner in which puss--when Betty, armed with the broom, +and hotly seeking vengeance for pantry robbed or bed defiled, has closed +upon her the garret doors and windows--attempts all sorts of impossible +exits, to come down at last in the corner, with panting side and glaring +eye, exhausted and defenseless. Our unfortunate hero could devise +nothing by which he could reasonably expect to escape the heavy blows of +his father. Having arrived at this conclusion and the "mulberry" about +the same time, he stood with a dogged look, awaiting the issue. + +The old man Suggs made no remark to any one while he was sizing up +Bill,--a process which, though by no means novel to Simon, seemed to +excite in him a sort of painful interest. He watched it closely, as if +endeavoring to learn the precise fashion of his father's knot; and when +at last Bill was swung up a-tiptoe to a limb, and the whipping +commenced, Simon's eye followed every movement of his father's arm; and +as each blow descended upon the bare shoulders of his sable friend, his +own body writhed and "wriggled" in involuntary sympathy. + +"It's the devil, it is," said Simon to himself, "to take such a +wallopin' as that. Why, the old man looks like he wants to git to the +holler, if he could,--rot his old picter! It's wuth, at the least, +fifty cents--je-e-miny, how that hurt!--yes, it's wuth three-quarters of +a dollar to take that 'ere lickin'! Wonder if I'm 'predestinated,' as +old Jed'diah says, to git the feller to it? Lord, how daddy blows! I do +wish to God he'd bust wide open, the durned old deer-face! If 'twa'n't +for Ben helpin' him, I b'lieve I'd give the old dog a tussel when it +comes to my turn. It couldn't make the thing no wuss, if it didn't make +it no better. 'Drot it! what do boys have daddies for anyhow? 'Tain't +for nuthin' but jist to beat 'em and work 'em. There's some use in +mammies. I kin poke my finger right in the old 'oman's eye, and keep it +thar; and if I say it ain't thar, she'll say so, too. I wish she was +here to hold daddy off. If 'twa'n't so fur I'd holler for her, anyhow. +How she would cling to the old fellow's coat-tail!" + +Mr. Jedediah Suggs let down Bill and untied him. Approaching Simon, +whose coat was off, "Come, Simon, son," said he, "cross them hands; I'm +gwine to correct you." + +"It ain't no use, daddy," said Simon. + +"Why so, Simon?" + +"Jist bekase it ain't. I'm gwine to play cards as long as I live. When I +go off to myself, I'm gwine to make my livin' by it. So what's the use +of beatin' me about it?" + +Old Mr. Suggs groaned, as he was wont to do in the pulpit, at this +display of Simon's viciousness. + +"Simon," said he, "you're a poor ignunt creetur. You don't know nothin', +and you've never been nowhars. If I was to turn you off, you'd starve in +a week." + +"I wish you'd try me," said Simon, "and jist see. I'd win more money in +a week than you can make in a year. There ain't nobody round here kin +make seed corn off o' me at cards. I'm rale smart," he added with great +emphasis. + +"Simon! Simon! you poor unlettered fool. Don't you know that all +card-players and chicken-fighters and horse-racers go to hell? You +crack-brained creetur, you! And don't you know that them that plays +cards always loses their money, and--" + +"Who wins it all, then, daddy?" asked Simon. + +"Shet your mouth, you imperdent, slack-jawed dog! Your daddy's a-tryin' +to give you some good advice, and you a-pickin' up his words that way. I +knowed a young man once, when I lived in Ogletharp, as went down to +Augusty and sold a hundred dollars' worth of cotton for his daddy, and +some o' them gambollers got him to drinkin', and the _very first_ night +he was with 'em they got every cent of his money." + +"They couldn't get my money in a _week_," said Simon. "Anybody can git +these here green feller's money; them's the sort I'm a-gwine to watch +for myself. Here's what kin fix the papers jist about as nice as +anybody." + +"Well, it's no use to argify about the matter," said old Jed-diah. "What +saith the Scriptur'? 'He that begetteth a fool, doeth it to his sorrow.' +Hence, Simon, you're a poor, misubble fool,--so cross your hands!" + +"You'd jist as well not, daddy; I tell you I'm gwine to follow playin' +cards for a livin', and what's the use o' bangin' a feller about it? I'm +as smart as any of 'em, and Bob Smith says them Augusty fellers can't +make rent off o' me." + +The Reverend Mr. Suggs had once in his life gone to Augusta; an extent +of travel which in those days was a little unusual. His consideration +among his neighbors was considerably increased by the circumstance, as +he had all the benefit of the popular inference that no man could visit +the city of Augusta without acquiring a vast superiority over all his +untraveled neighbors, in every department of human knowledge. Mr. Suggs, +then, very naturally, felt ineffably indignant that an individual who +had never seen any collection of human habitations larger than a +log-house village--an individual, in short, no other or better than Bob +Smith--should venture to express an opinion concerning the manners, +customs, or anything else appertaining to, or in any wise connected +with, the _Ultima Thule_ of backwoods Georgians. There were two +propositions which witnessed their own truth to the mind of Mr. Suggs: +the one was that a man who had never been at Augusta could not know +anything about that city, or any place, or anything else; the other, +that one who _had_ been there must, of necessity, be not only well +informed as to all things connected with the city itself, but perfectly +_au fait_ upon all subjects whatsoever. It was therefore in a tone of +mingled indignation and contempt that he replied to the last remark of +Simon. + +"_Bob Smith_ says, does he? And who's _Bob Smith_? Much does _Bob Smith_ +know about Augusty! He's _been thar_, I reckon! Slipped off yerly some +mornin', when nobody warn't noticin', and got back afore night! It's +_only_ a hundred and fifty mile. Oh, yes, _Bob Smith_ knows _all_ about +it! _I_ don't know nothin' about it! _I_ ain't never been to +Augusty--_I_ couldn't find the road thar, I reckon--ha, ha! +_Bob_--_Sm-ith_! If he was only to see one of them fine gentlemen in +Augusty, with his fine broadcloth, and bell-crown hat, and shoe-boots +a-shinin' like silver, he'd take to the woods and kill himself +a-runnin'. Bob Smith! That's whar all your devilment comes from, Simon." + +"Bob Smith's as good as anybody else, I judge; and a heap smarter than +some. He showed me how to cut Jack," continued Simon, "and that's more +nor some people can do, if they _have_ been to Augusty." + +"If Bob Smith kin do it," said the old man, "I kin, too. I don't know it +by that name; but if it's book knowledge or plain sense, and Bob kin do +it, it's reasonable to s'pose that old Jed'diah Suggs won't be bothered +_bad_. Is it any ways similyar to the rule of three, Simon?" + +"Pretty similyar, daddy, but not adzactly," said Simon, drawing a pack +from his pocket to explain. "Now, daddy," he proceeded, "you see these +here four cards is what we call the Jacks. Well, now, the idee is, if +you'll take the pack and mix 'em all up together, I'll take off a passel +from the top, and the bottom one of them I take off will be one of the +Jacks." + +"Me to mix 'em fust?" said old Jed'diah. + +"Yes." + +"And you not to see but the back of the top one, when you go to 'cut,' +as you call it?" + +"Jist so, daddy." + +"And the backs all jist' as like as kin be?" said the senior Suggs, +examining the cards. + +"More alike nor cow-peas," said Simon. + +"It can't be done, Simon," observed the old man, with great solemnity. + +"Bob Smith kin do it, and so kin I." + +"It's agin nater, Simon; thar ain't a man in Augusty, nor on top of the +yearth, that kin do it!" + +"Daddy," said our hero, "ef you'll bet me--" + +"What!" thundered old Mr. Suggs. "_Bet_, did you says?" and he came down +with a _scorer_ across Simon's shoulders. "Me, Jed-diah Suggs, that's +been in the Lord's sarvice these twenty years,--_me_ bet, you nasty, +sassy, triflin', ugly--" + +"I didn't go to say _that_, daddy; that warn't what I meant adzactly. I +went to say that ef you'd let me off from this her maulin' you owe me, +and _give me_ 'Bunch,' if I cut Jack, I'd _give you_ all this here +silver, ef I didn't,--that's all. To be sure, I allers knowed _you_ +wouldn't _bet_." + +Old Mr. Suggs ascertained the exact amount of the silver which his son +handed him, in an old leathern pouch, for inspection. He also, mentally, +compared that sum with an imaginary one, the supposed value of a certain +Indian pony, called "Bunch," which he had bought for his "old woman's" +Sunday riding, and which had sent the old lady into a fence corner the +first and only time she ever mounted him. As he weighed the pouch of +silver in his hand, Mr. Suggs also endeavored to analyze the character +of the transaction proposed by Simon. "It sartinly _can't_ be nothin' +but _givin_', no way it kin be twisted," he murmured to himself. "I +_know_ he can't do it, so there's no resk. What makes bettin'? The resk. +It's a one-sided business, and I'll jist let him give me all his money, +and that'll put all his wild sportin' notions out of his head." + +"Will you stand it, daddy?" asked Simon, by way of waking the old man +up. "You mought as well, for the whippin' won't do you no good; and as +for Bunch, nobody about the plantation won't ride him but me." + +"Simon," replied the old man, "I agree to it. Your old daddy is in a +close place about payin' for his land; and this here money--it's jist +eleven dollars, lacking of twenty-five cents--will help out mightily. +But mind, Simon, ef anything's said about this hereafter, remember, you +_give_ me the money." + +"Very well, daddy; and ef the thing works up instid o' down, I s'pose +we'll say you give _me_ Bunch, eh?" + +"You won't never be troubled to tell how you come by Bunch; the thing's +agin nater, and can't be done. What old Jed'diah Suggs knows, he knows +as good as anybody. Give me them fix-ments, Simon." + +Our hero handed the cards to his father, who, dropping the plow-line +with which he had intended to tie Simon's hands, turned his back to that +individual, in order to prevent his witnessing the operation of +_mixing_. He then sat down, and very leisurely commenced shuffling the +cards, making, however, an exceedingly awkward job of it. Restive +_kings_ and _queens_ jumped from his hands, or obstinately refused to +slide into the company of the rest of the pack. Occasionally a sprightly +_knave_ would insist on _facing_ his neighbor; or, pressing his edge +against another's, half double himself up, and then skip away. But Elder +Jed'diah perseveringly continued his attempts to subdue the refractory, +while heavy drops burst from his forehead, and ran down his cheeks. All +of a sudden an idea, quick and penetrating as a rifle-ball, seemed to +have entered the cranium of the old man. He chuckled audibly. The devil +had suggested to Mr. Suggs an _impromptu_ "stock," which would place the +chances of Simon, already sufficiently slim in the old man's opinion, +without the range of possibility. Mr. Suggs forthwith proceeded to cut +all the _picter ones_, so as to be certain to include the _Jacks_, and +place them at the bottom, with the evident intention of keeping Simon's +fingers above these when he should cut. Our hero, who was quietly +looking over his father's shoulders all the time, did not seem alarmed +by this disposition of the cards; on the contrary, he smiled, as if he +felt perfectly confident of success, in spite of it. + +"Now, daddy," said Simon, when his father had announced himself ready, +"narry one of us ain't got to look at the cards, while I'm a-cuttin'; if +we do, it'll spile the conjuration." + +"Very well." + +"And another thing: you've got to look me right dead in the eye, daddy; +will you?" + +"To be sure,--to be sure," said Mr. Suggs; "fire away." + +Simon walked up close to his father, and placed his hand on the pack. +Old Mr. Suggs looked in Simon's eye, and Simon returned the look for +about three seconds, during which a close observer might have detected a +suspicious working of the wrist of the hand on the cards, but the elder +Suggs did not remark it. + +"Wake snakes! day's a-breakin'! Rise, Jack!" said Simon, cutting half a +dozen cards from the top of the pack, and presenting the face of the +bottom one for the inspection of his father. + +It was the Jack of hearts! + +Old Mr. Suggs staggered back several steps, with uplifted eyes and +hands! + +"Marciful master!" he exclaimed, "ef the boy hain't! Well, how in the +round creation of the--! Ben, did you ever? To be sure and sartain, +Satan has power on this yearth!" and Mr. Suggs groaned in very +bitterness. + +"You never seed nothin' like that in _Augusty_, did ye, daddy?" asked +Simon, with a malicious wink at Ben. + +"Simon, how _did_ you do it?" queried the old man, without noticing his +son's question. + +"Do it, daddy? Do it? 'Tain't nothin'. I done it jist as easy +as--shootin'." + +Whether this explanation was entirely, or in any degree, satisfactory to +the perplexed mind of Elder Jed'diah Suggs can not, after the lapse of +the time which has intervened, be sufficiently ascertained. It is +certain, however, that he pressed the investigation no farther, but +merely requested his son Benjamin to witness the fact that, in +consideration of his love and affection for his son Simon, and in order +to furnish the donee with the means of leaving that portion of the State +of Georgia, he bestowed upon him the impracticable pony, Bunch. + +"Jist so, daddy; jist so; I'll witness that. But it 'minds me mightily +of the way mammy _give_ old Trailler the side of bacon last week. She +a-sweepin' up the h'a'th; the meat on the table; old Trailler jumps up, +gethers the bacon, and darts! Mammy arter him with the broom-stick as +fur as the door, but seein' the dog has got the start, she shakes the +stick at him, and hollers, 'You sassy, aigsukkin', roguish, gnatty, +flop-eared varmint! take it along! take it along! I only wish 'twas full +of a'snic, and ox-vomit, and blue vitrul, so as 'twould cut your interls +into chitlins!' That's about the way you give Bunch to Simon." + +"Oh, shuh, Ben," remarked Simon, "I wouldn't run on that way. Daddy +couldn't help it; it was _predestinated_: 'Whom he hath, he will,' you +know," and the rascal pulled down the under lid of his left eye at his +brother. Then addressing his father, he asked, "War'n't it, daddy?" + +"To be sure--to be sure--all fixed aforehand," was old Mr. Suggs' reply. + +"Didn't I tell you so, Ben?" said Simon. "_I_ knowed it was all fixed +aforehand," and he laughed until he was purple in the face. + +"What's in ye? What are ye laughin' about?" asked the old man wrothily. + +"Oh, it's so funny that it could all 'a' been _fixed aforehand_!" said +Simon, and laughed louder than before. The obtusity of the Reverend Mr. +Suggs, however, prevented his making any discoveries. He fell into a +brown study, and no further allusion was made to the matter. + +It was evident to our hero that his father intended he should remain but +one more night beneath the paternal roof. What mattered it to Simon? + +He went home at night; curried and fed Bunch; whispered confidentially +in his ear that he was the "fastest piece of hossflesh, accordin' to +size, that ever shaded the yearth;" and then busied himself in preparing +for an early start on the morrow. + +Old Mr. Suggs' big red rooster had hardly ceased crowing in announcement +of the coming dawn, when Simon mounted the intractable Bunch. Both were +in high spirits: our hero at the idea of unrestrained license in future; +and Bunch from a mesmerical transmission to himself of a portion of his +master's deviltry. Simon raised himself in the stirrups, yelled a +tolerably fair imitation of the Creek war-whoop, and shouted: + +"I'm off, old stud! Remember the Jack-a-hearts!" + +Bunch shook his little head, tucked down his tail, ran sideways, as if +going to fall, and then suddenly reared, squealed, and struck off at a +brisk gallop. + + + + +A PIANO IN ARKANSAS + +BY THOMAS BANGS THORPE + + +We shall never forget the excitement which seized upon the inhabitants +of the little village of Hardscrabble as the report spread through the +community that a real piano had actually arrived within its precincts. + +Speculation was afloat as to its appearance and its use. The name was +familiar to everybody; but what it precisely meant, no one could tell. +That it had legs was certain; for a stray volume of some literary +traveler was one of the most conspicuous works in the floating library +of Hardscrabble, and said traveler stated that he had seen a piano +somewhere in New England with pantalets on; also, an old foreign paper +was brought forward, in which there was an advertisement headed +"Soirée," which informed the "citizens, generally," that Mr. Bobolink +would preside at the piano. + +This was presumed by several wiseacres, who had been to a menagerie, to +mean that Mr. Bobolink stirred the piano with a long pole, in the same +way that the showman did the lions and rhi-no-ce-rus. + +So, public opinion was in favor of its being an animal, though a +harmless one; for there had been a land-speculator through the village a +few weeks previously, who distributed circulars of a "Female Academy" +for the accomplishment of young ladies. These circulars distinctly +stated "the use of the piano to be one dollar per month." + +One knowing old chap said, if they would tell him what so-i-ree meant, +he would tell them what a piano was, and no mistake. + +The owner of this strange instrument was no less than a very quiet and +very respectable late merchant of a little town somewhere "north," who, +having failed at home, had emigrated into the new and hospitable country +of Arkansas, for the purpose of bettering his fortune and escaping the +heartless sympathy of his more lucky neighbors, who seemed to consider +him a very bad and degraded man because he had become honestly poor. + +The new-comers were strangers, of course. The house in which they were +setting up their furniture was too little arranged "to admit of calls;" +and, as the family seemed very little disposed to court society, all +prospects of immediately solving the mystery that hung about the piano +seemed hopeless. In the meantime, public opinion was "rife." + +The depository of this strange thing was looked upon by the passers-by +with indefinable awe; and, as noises unfamiliar sometimes reached the +street, it was presumed that the piano made them, and the excitement +rose higher than ever. In the midst of it, one or two old ladies, +presuming upon their age and respectability, called upon the strangers +and inquired after their health, and offered their services and +friendship; meantime, everything in the house was eyed with great +intensity, but, seeing nothing strange, a hint was given about the +piano. One of the new family observed, carelessly, "that it had been +much injured by bringing out, that the damp had affected its tones, and +that one of its legs was so injured that it would not stand up, and for +the present it would not ornament the parlor." + +Here was an explanation indeed: injured in bringing out; damp affecting +its tones; leg broken. "Poor thing!" ejaculated the old ladies, with +real sympathy, as they proceeded homeward; "traveling has evidently +fatigued it; the Mass-is-sip fogs has given it a cold, poor thing!" and +they wished to see it with increased curiosity. + +The "village" agreed that if Moses Mercer, familiarly called "Mo +Mercer," was in town, they would have a description of the piano, and +the uses to which it was put; and, fortunately, in the midst of the +excitement "Mo" arrived, he having been temporarily absent on a +hunting-expedition. + +Moses Mercer was the only son of "old Mercer," who was, and had been, in +the State Senate ever since Arkansas was admitted into the "Union." Mo +from this fact received great glory, of course; his father's greatness +alone would have stamped him with superiority; but his having been twice +in the "Capitol" when the legislature was in session stamped his claims +to pre-eminence over all competitors. + +Mo Mercer was the oracle of the renowned village of Hardscrabble. + +"Mo" knew everything; he had all the consequence and complacency of a +man who had never seen his equal, and never expected to. "Mo" bragged +extensively upon his having been to the "Capitol" twice,--of his there +having been in the most "fashionable society,"--of having seen the +world. His return to town was therefore received with a shout. The +arrival of the piano was announced to him, and he alone of all the +community was not astonished at the news. + +His insensibility was considered wonderful. He treated the piano as a +thing that he was used to, and went on, among other things, to say that +he had seen more pianos in the "Capitol," than he had ever seen +woodchucks, and that it was not an animal, but a musical instrument +played upon by the ladies; and he wound up his description by saying +that the way "the dear creatures could pull music out of it was a +caution to hoarse owls." + +The new turn given to the piano-excitement in Hardscrabble by Mo Mercer +was like pouring oil on fire to extinguish it, for it blazed out with +more vigor than ever. That it was a musical instrument made it a rarer +thing in that wild country than if it had been an animal, and people of +all sizes, colors, and degrees were dying to see and hear it. + +Jim Cash was Mo Mercer's right-hand man: in the language of refined +society, he was "Mo's toady;" in the language of Hardscrabble, he was +"Mo's wheel-horse." Cash believed in Mo Mercer with an abandonment that +was perfectly ridiculous. Mr. Cash was dying to see the piano, and the +first opportunity he had alone with his Quixote he expressed the desire +that was consuming his vitals. + +"We'll go at once and see it," said Mercer. + +"Strangers!" echoed the frightened Cash. + +"Humbug! Do you think I have visited the 'Capitol' twice, and don't know +how to treat fashionable society? Come along at once, Cash," said +Mercer. + +Off the pair started, Mercer all confidence, and Cash all fears as to +the propriety of the visit. These fears Cash frankly expressed; but +Mercer repeated for the thousandth time his experience in the +fashionable society of the "Capitol, and pianos," which he said "was +synonymous;" and he finally told Cash, to comfort him, that, however +abashed and ashamed he might be in the presence of the ladies, "he +needn't fear of sticking, for he would pull him through." + +A few minutes' walk brought the parties on the broad galleries of the +house that contained the object of so much curiosity. The doors and +windows were closed, and a suspicious look was on everything. + +"Do they always keep a house closed up this way that has a piano in it?" +asked Cash mysteriously. + +"Certainly," replied Mercer: "the damp would destroy its tones." + +Repeated knocks at the doors, and finally at the windows, satisfied both +Cash and Mercer that nobody was at home. In the midst of their +disappointment, Cash discovered a singular machine at the end of the +gallery, crossed by bars and rollers and surmounted with an enormous +crank. Cash approached it on tiptoe; he had a presentiment that he +beheld the object of his curiosity, and, as its intricate character +unfolded itself, he gazed with distended eyes, and asked Mercer, with +breathless anxiety, what that strange and incomprehensible box was. + +Mercer turned to the thing as coolly as a north wind to an icicle, and +said, that was _it_. + +"That _it_!" exclaimed Cash, opening his eyes still wider; and then, +recovering himself, he asked to see "the tone." + +Mercer pointed to the cross-bars and rollers. With trembling hands, with +a resolution that would enable a man to be scalped without winking, +Cash reached out his hand and seized the handle of the crank (Cash, at +heart, was a brave and fearless man). He gave it a turn: the machinery +grated harshly, and seemed to clamor for something to be put in its maw. + +"What delicious sounds!" said Cash. + +"Beautiful!" observed the complacent Mercer, at the same time seizing +Cash's arm and asking him to desist, for fear of breaking the instrument +or getting it out of tune. + +The simple caution was sufficient; and Cash, in the joy of the moment at +what he had done and seen, looked as conceited as Mo Mercer himself. + +Busy indeed was Cash, from this time forward, in explaining to gaping +crowds the exact appearance of the piano, how he had actually taken hold +of it, and, as his friend Mo Mercer observed, "pulled music out of it." + +The curiosity of the village was thus allayed, and consequently died +comparatively away,--Cash, however, having risen to almost as much +importance as Mo Mercer, for having seen and handled the thing. + +Our "Northern family" knew little or nothing of all this excitement; +they received meanwhile the visits and congratulations of the hospitable +villagers, and resolved to give a grand party to return some of the +kindness they had received, and the piano was, for the first time, moved +into the parlor. No invitation on this occasion was neglected; early at +the post was every visitor, for it was rumored that Miss Patience +Doolittle would, in the course of the evening, "perform on the piano." + +The excitement was immense. The supper was passed over with a contempt +rivaling that which is cast upon an excellent farce played preparatory +to a dull tragedy in which the star is to appear. The furniture was all +critically examined, but nothing could be discovered answering Cash's +description. An enormously thick-leafed table with a "spread" upon it +attracted little attention, timber being so very cheap in a new country, +and so everybody expected soon to see the piano "brought in." + +Mercer, of course, was the hero of the evening: he talked much and +loudly. Cash, as well as several young ladies, went into hysterics at +his wit. Mercer, as the evening wore away, grew exceedingly conceited, +even for him; and he graciously asserted that the company present +reminded him of his two visits to the "Capitol," and other associations +equally exclusive and peculiar. + +The evening wore on apace, and still no piano. That hope deferred which +maketh the heart sick was felt by some elderly ladies and by a few +younger ones; and Mercer was solicited to ask Miss Patience Doolittle to +favor the company with the presence of the piano. + +"Certainly," said Mercer and with the grace of a city dandy he called +upon the lady to gratify all present with a little music, prefacing his +request with the remark that if she was fatigued "his friend Cash would +give the machine a turn." + +Miss Patience smiled, and looked at Cash. + +Cash's knees trembled. + +All eyes in the room turned upon him. + +Cash trembled all over. + +Miss Patience said she was gratified to hear that Mr. Cash was a +musician; she admired people who had a musical taste. Whereupon Cash +fell into a chair, as he afterward observed, "chawed up." + +Oh that Beau Brummel or any of his admirers could have seen Mo Mercer +all this while! Calm as a summer morning, complacent as a newly-painted +sign, he smiled and patronized, and was the only unexcited person in the +room. + +Miss Patience rose. A sigh escaped from all present: the piano was +evidently to be brought in. She approached the thick-leafed table and +removed the covering, throwing it carelessly and gracefully aside, +opened the instrument, and presented the beautiful arrangement of dark +and white keys. + +Mo Mercer at this, for the first time in his life, looked confused: he +was Cash's authority in his descriptions of the appearance of the piano; +while Cash himself began to recover the moment that he ceased to be an +object of attention. Many a whisper now ran through the room as to the +"tones," and more particularly the "crank"; none could see them. + +Miss Patience took her seat, ran her fingers over a few octaves, and if +"Moses in Egypt" was not perfectly _executed_, Moses in Hardscrabble +_was_. The dulcet sound ceased. "Miss," said Cash, the moment that he +could express himself, so entranced was he by the music,--"Miss +Doolittle, what was the instrument Mo Mercer showed me in your gallery +once, it went by a crank and had rollers in it?" + +It was now the time for Miss Patience to blush: so away went the blood +from confusion to her cheeks. She hesitated, stammered, and said, if Mr. +Cash must know, it was a-a-a-_Yankee washing-machine_. + +The name grated on Mo Mercer's ears as if rusty nails had been thrust +into them; the heretofore invulnerable Mercer's knees trembled, the +sweat started to his brow, as he heard the taunting whispers of +"visiting the Capitol twice" and seeing pianos as plenty as woodchucks. + +The fashionable vices of envy and maliciousness were that moment sown in +the village of Hardscrabble; and Mo Mercer, the great, the confident, +the happy and self-possessed, surprising as it may seem, was the first +victim sacrificed to their influence. + +Time wore on, and pianos became common, and Mo Mercer less popular; and +he finally disappeared altogether, on the evening of the day on which a +Yankee peddler of notions sold to the highest bidder, "six patent, +warranted, and improved Mo Mercer pianos." + + + + +WHAR DEM SINFUL APPLES GROW + +BY ANNE VIRGINIA CULBERTSON + + Ol' Adam he live in de Gyardin uv Eden, + ('Way down yonner) + He didn' know writin' an' he didn' know readin', + ('Way down yonner) + He stay dar erlone jes' eatin' an' a-sleepin', + He say, "Dis mighty po' comp'ny I'se a-keepin'," + 'Way down yonner whar dem sinful apples grow. + + So dey tuck ol' Adam an' dey putt him a-nappin', + ('Way down yonner) + An' de fus' thing you know dish yer w'at happen, + ('Way down yonner) + Dey tucken his rib an' dey made a 'ooman, + She mighty peart an' she spry an' she bloomin', + 'Way down yonner whar dem sinful apples grow. + + Dey 'spute sometimes an' he say, ol' Adam, + ('Way down yonner) + "You nuttin' but spar'-rib, nohow, madam," + ('Way down yonner) + She say, "Dat de trufe an' hit ain' a-hu't'n', + Fer de spar'-rib's made f'um a hawg, dat's sut'n," + 'Way down yonner whar dem sinful apples grow. + + De Sarpint he slip in de Gyardin uv Eden, + ('Way down yonner) + He seed Mis' Eve an' he 'gun his pleadin', + ('Way down yonner) + 'Twel she tucken de apple an' den he quit 'er, + Hissin', "Ho! ho! dat fruit mighty bitter." + 'Way down yonner whar dem sinful apples grow. + + Ol' Adam he say, "W'at dat you eatin'?" + ('Way down yonner) + "Please gimme a bite er dat summer-sweetin'," + ('Way down yonner) + She gin de big haff wid de core an' de seed in, + An' dar whar she show her manners an' her breedin', + 'Way down yonner whar dem sinful apples grow. + + Den Adam he ac' right sneakin' sho'ly, + ('Way down yonner) + An' mek his 'scuse ter de Lawd right po'ly, + ('Way down yonner) + Blamin' Eve 'kase she do w'at he tell 'er, + An' settin' dat 'zample fer many a feller, + 'Way down yonner whar dem sinful apples grow. + + Den de Lawd He say in de Gyardin uv Eden, + ('Way down yonner) + "No sech a man shell do my weedin'," + ('Way down yonner) + So fo'th f'um de Gyardin de Lawd He bid him, + An' o' co'se Mis' Eve she up an' went wid him, + 'Way down yonner whar dem sinful apples grow. + + Oh, sinner, is you in de Gyardin uv Eden? + ('Way down yonner) + Is you on dem sinful apples feedin'? + ('Way down yonner) + Come out, oh, sinner, befo' youse driven, + De debil gwine git you ef you goes on livin' + 'Way down yonner whar dem sinful apples grow! + + + + +A NIGHT IN A ROCKING-CHAIR + +BY KATE FIELD + + +It may be true that America is going to perdition; that all Americans +are rascals; that there are no American gentlemen; that culture, +refinement, and social manners can only be found in the Old World: but +if it be true, what an extraordinary anomaly it is that women, old and +young, ugly and handsome, can travel alone from one end of this great +country to the other, receiving only such attention as is acceptable. +Having journeyed up and down the land to the extent of twenty thousand +miles, I am persuaded that a woman can go anywhere and do anything, +provided she conducts herself properly. Of course it would be absurd to +deny that it is not infinitely more agreeable to be accompanied by the +"tyrant" called "man"; but when there is no tyrant to come to lovely +woman's rescue, it is astonishing how well lovely woman can rescue +herself, if she exerts the brain and muscle, given her thousands of +years ago, and not entirely annihilated by long disuse. I have been +nowhere that I have not been treated with greater consideration than if +I had belonged to the other sex. There is not a country in Europe of +which this can be said; and if a nation's civilization is gauged--as the +wise declare--by its treatment of women, then America, rough as it may +be, badly dressed as it is, tobacco-chewing as it often is, stands +head, shoulders, and heart above all the rest of the world. The +Frenchwoman was right in declaring America to be _le paradis des dames_, +and those women who exalt European gallantry above American honesty are +as blind to their own interests as an owl at high noon. + +There is no royal railroad to lecturing. At best it is hard work, but +lecture committees "do their possible," as the Italians say, to lessen +the weight, and that "possible" is heartily appreciated by such of us as +inwardly long for a natural bridge between stations and hotels. A woman +is never so forlorn as when getting out of a car or entering a strange +hotel. + +However, there never was a rule without its exception, and though +courtesy has marked the majority of lecture committees for its own, a +lecturer may occasionally find himself stranded upon a desert of +indifference, and languish for the comforts of a home not twenty miles +distant. Thus it happened that once upon arriving at my destination when +the shades of evening were falling fast, and glancing about for the +customary smiling gentlemen who smooth out the rough places by carrying +bags, superintending the transportation of luggage, and driving you to +your abiding-place in the best carriage of the period, I found no +gentlemen, smiling or otherwise, to deliver me from my own ignorance. + +"Carriage, ma'am?" screamed a Jehu in top-boots ornamented with a +grotesque tracery of mud. + +Well, yes, I would take a carriage; so up I clambered and sat down upon +what in the darkness I supposed was a seat, but what gave such palpable +evidences of animation in howls and attempts at assault and battery, as +to prove its right to be called a boy. "An' sure the lady didn't mane to +hurt ye, Jimmy," expostulated something that turned out to be the boy's +mother, whereupon a baby and a small sister of the small boy sent forth +their voices in unison with that of their extinguished brother. + +"Driver, let me get out," I said pathetically. + +"Certainly, ma'am, but where will you go to? There ain't no other +carriage left." + +True; and I remained, and when I was asked where I wanted to stop, I +really did not know. Was there a hotel? Yes. Was there more than one +hotel? No. I breathed more freely, and said I would go to the hotel. + +The driver evidently entertained a poor opinion of my mental capacity, +for he mumbled to himself that "people who didn't know where they was +agoin' had nuff sight better stay at home," and deposited me at the +hotel with a caution against pickpockets. This was sufficiently +humiliating, yet were there lower depths. Entering the parlor, I found +it monopolized by a young lady in green silk and red ribbons, and a pink +young man with his hair parted in the middle and his shirt-bosom +resplendent with brilliants of the last water. They were at the piano, +singing "Days of Absence" in a manner calculated to depress the most +buoyant spirits. I rang the bell, and the green young lady and pink +young man began on the second verse. No answer. Again I rang the bell, +and the songsters began on the third verse. No answer. Once more I rang +the bell, and the green young lady and pink young man piped upon the +touching lay of "No one to love." Little cared those "two souls with +but a single thought, two hearts that beat as one," for the third heart +and soul, victim of misplaced confidence. Ring! I rang that bell until I +ached to be a man for one brief moment. Does a man ever endure such +torture? No. He puts on his hat, walks into the hotel office, gives +somebody a piece of his mind, and demands the satisfaction of a +gentleman. But a woman can go to no office. She must remain up stairs +and cultivate patience on hunger and thirst and a general mortification +of the senses. "Victory, or destruction to the bell!" I said at last, +and pulled the rope with the desperation of a maniac. + +"Did you ring?" asked a mild clerk, entering on the tips of his toes as +if there were not enough of him to warrant so extravagant an expenditure +as the use of his whole sole. Did I ring? I who had been doing nothing +else for half an hour! I who had but forty-five minutes in which to eat +my supper and dress for the lecture! + +Presenting my card, I desired the mild clerk to show me to my room. The +mild clerk was exceedingly sorry, but the committee had left no order, +and there was not a vacant room in the house! + +"What am I to do?" I asked in agony of spirit. "I _must_ have a room." + +_Must_ is an overpowering word. Only say _must_ with all the emphasis of +which it is capable, and longings are likely to be realized. + +Well, the mild clerk didn't know but as how he might turn out and let me +have _his_ room. + +Blessed man! Had I been pope, he should have been canonized on the spot. +Following him up several steep flights of stairs, lighted by a kerosene +lamp that perfumed the air as only kerosene can, I was at last ushered +into a room where sat a young girl knitting. She seemed to be no more +astonished at my appearance than were the chairs and table, merely +remarking, when we were left alone, "That's my father. I suppose you +won't have any objections to my staying here as long as I please." How +could I, an interloper, say "no" to the rightful proprietor of that +room? I smiled feebly, and the damsel pursued her knitting with her +fingers and me with her eyes, until everything in the room seemed to +turn into eyes. The frightful thought came o'er me that perhaps my +companion was "our own correspondent" for the "Daily Slasher!"--a +thought that sent my supper down the wrong way, deprived me of appetite, +and made me thankful that my back hair did not come off! The damsel sat +and sat, knitted and knitted, until she had superintended every +preparation, and then, like an Arab, silently stole away. + +What next? Why, the committee called for me at the appointed hour, +seemed blandly ignorant of the fact that they had not done their whole +duty to woman, and maintained that walking was much better than driving. +The wind blew, dust sought shelter within the recesses of eyes and ears +and nose, but patient Griselda could not have behaved better than I. In +fact, a woman who lectures must endure quietly what a singer or actress +would stoutly protest against, for the reason that lecturing brings down +upon her the taunt of being "strong-minded," and any assertion of rights +or exhibition of temper is sure to be misconstrued into violent hatred +of men and an insane desire to be President of the United States. This +can hardly be called logic, but it _is_ truth. Logic is an unknown +quantity in the ordinary public estimation of women lecturers. + +Inwardly cross and outwardly cold, I delivered my lecture, and went back +to that much-populated room, thinking that at least I should obtain a +few hours' sleep before starting off at "five o'clock in the +morning,"--a nice hour to sing about, but a horrible one at which to get +up. I approached the bed. Shade of that virtue which is next to +godliness! the linen was--was--yes, it was--second-hand! and calmly +reposing on a pillow of doubtful color, my startled vision beheld an + + "... ugly, creepin', blastit wonner, + Detested, shunn'd, by saunt an' sinner." + +That I should come to this! I sought for a bell. Alas, there was none! +Should I scream? No, that might bring out the fire-engines. Should I go +in search of the housekeeper? How to find her at that hour of the night? +No; rather than wander about a strange house in a strange place, I would +sit up. Of course there was a rocking-chair; in that I took refuge, and +there I sat with a quaint old-fashioned clock for company, with such +stout lungs as to render sleep an impossibility. No fairy godmother came +in at the key-hole to transform my chair into a couch and that talkative +clock into a handmaiden. No ghosts beguiled the weary hours. Eleven, +twelve, one, two, three, four! As the clock struck this last hour, a +porter pounded on the door, and, not long after, I was being driven +through the cold, dark morning to a railroad station. My Jehu was he of +the previous day, and a very nice fellow he turned out to be. "I didn't +know it was you yesterday, you see, miss, or I wouldn't have said +nothing about pickpockets. You don't look like a lecturer, you see, and +that's what's the matter." + +"Indeed, and how ought a lecturer to look?" + +"Well, I don't exactly know, but I always supposed they didn't look like +you. Reckon you don't enjoy staying around here in the dark, so I'll +just wait here till the train comes," and there that good creature +remained until the belated train snatched me up and whisked off to the +city. When the express agent passed through the car to take the +baggage-checks, it was as good as a play to see the different ways in +which people woke up. Some turned over and wouldn't wake up at all; +others sat bolt upright and blinked; some were very cross, and wondered +why they could not be let alone; others, again, rubbed their eyes, +scratched their heads, said "All right," and would have gone to sleep +again had not the agent shaken them into consciousness. + +"Where do you go?" asked the agent of a quiet old gentleman sitting +before me, who had previously given up his checks. + +"Yes, exactly; that's my name," replied the old gentleman. + +"Where do you go?" again asked the agent in a somewhat louder tone. + +"Exactly, I told you so." And the old gentleman put a pocket +handkerchief over his face as a preliminary to sleep. + +"Well, I never," exclaimed the agent, who returned to the charge. "I +asked you where you wanted to go?" + +"Precisely; that's my name." + +"Confound your name!" muttered the agent. "You're either deaf or insane, +and I guess you're deaf." So putting his mouth to the old gentleman's +ear, he shouted, "Where--do--you--want--to--go?" + +"O, really, the ---- House," was the mild answer to a question that so +startled everybody else as to cause one man to jump up and cry, "Fire!" +very much to the gratification of his fellow-passengers. There is +nothing more pleasing to human beings than to see somebody else make +himself ridiculous, and the amusement extracted from the contemplation +of that car-load of men and women almost compensated me for the previous +experience. + +I have since traveled in the far West, but have never looked upon the +counterpart of that New England hotel. + + + + +ROLLO LEARNING TO PLAY + +BY ROBERT J. BURDETTE + + +Early in the afternoon of the same day, Mr. Holliday came home bearing a +large package in his arms. Not only seldom, but rarely, did anything +come into the Holliday homestead that did not afford the head of the +family a text for sermonic instruction, if not, indeed, rational +discourse. Depositing the package upon a hall table, he called to his +son in a mandatory manner: + +"Rollo, come to me." + +Rollo approached, but started with reluctant steps. He became +reminiscently aware as he hastily reviewed the events of the day, that +in carrying out one or two measures for the good of the house, he had +laid himself open to an investigation by a strictly partisan committee, +and the possibility of such an inquiry, with its subsequent report, +grieved him. However, he hoped for the worst, so that in any event he +would not be disagreeably disappointed, and came running to his father, +calling "Yes, sir!" in his cheeriest tones. + +This is the correct form in which to meet any possible adversity which +is not yet in sight. Because, if it should not meet you, you are happy +anyhow, and if it should meet you, you have been happy before the +collision. See? + +"Now, Rollo," said his father, "you are too large and strong to be +spending your leisure time playing baby games with your little brother +Thanny. It is time for you to begin to be athletic." + +"What is athletic?" asked Rollo. + +"Well," replied his father, who was an alumnus (pronounced ahloomnoose) +himself, "in a general way it means to wear a pair of pantaloons either +eighteen inches too short or six inches too long for you, and stand +around and yell while other men do your playing for you. The reputation +for being an athlete may also be acquired by wearing a golf suit to +church, or carrying a tennis racket to your meals. However, as I was +about to say, I do not wish you to work all the time, like a woman, or +even a small part of the time, like a hired man. I wish you to adopt for +your recreation games of sport and pastime." + +Rollo interrupted his father to say that indeed he preferred games of +that description to games of toil and labor, but as he concluded, little +Thanny, who was sitting on the porch step with his book, suddenly read +aloud, in a staccato measure. + +"I-be-lieve-you-my-boy,-re-plied-the-man-heart-i-ly." + +"Read to yourself, Thanny," said his father kindly, "and do not speak +your syllables in that jerky manner." + +Thanny subsided into silence, after making two or three strange gurgling +noises in his throat, which Rollo, after several efforts, succeeded in +imitating quite well. Being older than Thanny, Rollo, of course, could +not invent so many new noises every day as his little brother. But he +could take Thanny's noises, they being unprotected by copyright, and not +only reproduce them, but even improve upon them. + +This shows the advantage of the higher education. "A little learning is +a dangerous thing." It is well for every boy to learn that dynamite is +an explosive of great power, after which it is still better for him to +learn of how great power. Then he will not hit a cartridge with a hammer +in order to find out, and when he dines in good society he can still +lift his pie gracefully in his hand, and will not be compelled to +harpoon it with an iron hook at the end of his fore-arm. + +Rollo's father looked at the two boys attentively as they swallowed +their noises, and then said: + +"Now, Rollo, there is no sense in learning to play a man's game with a +toy outfit. Here are the implements of a game which is called base-ball, +and which I am going to teach you to play." + +So saying he opened the package and handed Rollo a bat, a wagon tongue +terror that would knock the leather off a planet, and Rollo's eyes +danced as he balanced it and pronounced it a "la-la." + +"It is a bat," his father said sternly, "a base-ball bat." + +"Is that a base-ball bat?" exclaimed Rollo, innocently. + +"Yes, my son," replied his father, "and here is a protector for the +hand." + +Rollo took the large leather pillow and said: + +"That's an infielder." + +"It is a mitt," his father said, "and here is the ball." + +As Rollo took the ball in his hands he danced with glee. + +"That's a peach," he cried. + +"It is a base-ball," his father said, "that is what you play base-ball +with." + +"Is it?" exclaimed Rollo, inquiringly. + +"Now," said Mr. Holliday, as they went into the back yard, followed by +Thanny, "I will go to bat first, and I will let you pitch, so that I may +teach you how. I will stand here at the end of the barn, then when you +miss my bat with the ball, as you may sometimes do, for you do not yet +know how to pitch accurately, the barn will prevent the ball from going +too far." + +"That's the back-stop," said Rollo. + +"Do not try to be funny, my son," replied his father, "in this great +republic only a President of the United States is permitted to coin +phrases which nobody can understand. Now, observe me; when you are at +bat you stand in this manner." + +And Mr. Holliday assumed the attitude of a timid man who has just +stepped on the tail of a strange and irascible dog, and is holding his +legs so that the animal, if he can pull his tail out, can escape without +biting either of them. He then held the bat up before his face as though +he was carrying a banner. + +"Now, Rollo, you must pitch the ball directly toward the end of my bat. +Do not pitch too hard at first, or you will tire yourself out before we +begin." + +Rollo held the ball in his hands and gazed at it thoughtfully for a +moment; he turned and looked at the kitchen windows as though he had +half a mind to break one of them; then wheeling suddenly he sent the +ball whizzing through the air like a bullet. It passed so close to Mr. +Holliday's face that he dropped the bat and his grammar in his +nervousness and shouted: + +"Whata you throw nat? That's no way to pitch a ball! Pitch it as though +you were playing a gentleman's game; not as though you were trying to +kill a cat! Now, pitch it right here; right at this place on my bat. And +pitch more gently; the first thing you know you'll sprain your wrist and +have to go to bed. Now, try again." + +This time Rollo kneaded the ball gently, as though he suspected it had +been pulled before it was ripe. He made an offer as though he would +throw it to Thanny. Thanny made a rush back to an imaginary "first," and +Rollo, turning quickly, fired the ball in the general direction of Mr. +Holliday. It passed about ten feet to his right, but none the less he +made what Thanny called "a swipe" at it that turned him around three +times before he could steady himself. It then hit the end of the barn +with a resounding crash that made Cotton Mather, the horse, snort with +terror in his lonely stall. Thanny called out in nasal, sing-song tone: + +"Strike--one!" + +"Thanny," said his father, severely, "do not let me hear a repetition of +such language from you. If you wish to join our game, you may do so, if +you will play in a gentlemanly manner. But I will not permit the use of +slang about this house. Now, Rollo, that was better; much better. But +you must aim more accurately and pitch less violently. You will never +learn anything until you acquire it, unless you pay attention while +giving your mind to it. Now, play ball, as we say." + +This time Rollo stooped and rubbed the ball in the dirt until his father +sharply reprimanded him, saying, "You untidy boy; that ball will not be +fit to play with!" Then Rollo looked about him over the surrounding +country as though admiring the pleasant view, and with the same +startling abruptness as before, faced his father and shot the ball in so +swiftly that Thanny said he could see it smoke. It passed about six feet +to the left of the batsman, but Mr. Holliday, judging that it was coming +"dead for him," dodged, and the ball struck his high silk hat with a +boom like a drum, carrying it on to the "back-stop" in its wild career. + +"Take your base!" shouted Thanny, but suddenly checked himself, +remembering the new rules on the subject of his umpiring. + +"Rollo!" exclaimed his father, "why do you not follow my instructions +more carefully? That was a little better, but still the ball was badly +aimed. You must not stare around all over creation when you are playing +ball. How can you throw straight when you look at everything in the +world except at the bat you are trying to hit? You must aim right at the +bat--try to hit it--that's what the pitcher does. And Thanny, let me say +to you, and for the last time, that I will not permit the slang of the +slums to be used about this house. Now, Rollo, try again, and be more +careful and more deliberate." + +"Father," said Rollo, "did you ever play base-ball when you were a young +man?" + +"Did I play base-ball?" repeated his father, "did I play ball? Well, +say, I belonged to the Sacred Nine out in old Peoria, and I was a holy +terror on third, now I tell you. One day--" + +But just at this point in the history it occurred to Rollo to send the +ball over the plate. Mr. Holliday saw it coming; he shut both eyes and +dodged for his life, but the ball hit his bat and went spinning straight +up in the air. Thanny shouted "Foul!" ran under it, reached up, took it +out of the atmosphere, and cried: + +"Out!" + +"Thanny," said his father sternly, "another word and you shall go +straight to bed! If you do not improve in your habit of language I will +send you to the reform school. Now, Rollo," he continued, kindly, "that +was a great deal better; very much better. I hit that ball with almost +no difficulty. You are learning. But you will learn more rapidly if you +do not expend so much unnecessary strength in throwing the ball. Once +more, now, and gently; I do not wish you to injure your arm." + +Rollo leaned forward and tossed the ball toward his father very gently +indeed, much as his sister Mary would have done, only, of course, in a +more direct line. Mr. Holliday's eyes lit up with their old fire as he +saw the on-coming sphere. He swept his bat around his head in a fierce +semi-circle, caught the ball fair on the end of it, and sent it over +Rollo's head, crashing into the kitchen window amid a jingle of glass +and a crash of crockery, wild shrieks from the invisible maid servant +and delighted howls from Rollo and Thanny of "Good boy!" "You own the +town!" "All the way round!" + +Mr. Holliday was a man whose nervous organism was so sensitive that he +could not endure the lightest shock of excitement. The confusion and +general uproar distracted him. + +"Thanny!" he shouted, "go into the house! Go into the house and go right +to bed!" + +"Thanny," said Rollo, in a low tone, "you're suspended; that's what you +get for jollying the umpire." + +"Rollo," said his father, "I will not have you quarreling with Thanny. I +can correct him without your interference. And, besides, you have +wrought enough mischief for one day. Just see what you have done with +your careless throwing. You have broken the window, and I do not know +how many things on the kitchen table. You careless, inattentive boy. I +would do right if I should make you pay for all this damage out of your +own pocket-money. And I would, if you had any. I may do so, +nevertheless. And there is Jane, bathing her eye at the pump. You have +probably put it out by your wild pitching. If she dies, I will make you +wash the dishes until she returns. I thought all boys could throw +straight naturally without any training. You discourage me. Now come +here and take this bat, and I will show you how to pitch a ball without +breaking all the glass in the township. And see if you can learn to bat +any better than you can pitch." + +Rollo took the bat, poised himself lightly, and kept up a gentle +oscillation of the stick while he waited. + +"Hold it still!" yelled his father, whose nerves were sorely shaken. +"How can I pitch a ball to you when you keep flourishing that club like +an anarchist in procession. Hold it still, I tell you!" + +Rollo dropped the bat to an easy slant over his shoulder and looked +attentively at his father. The ball came in. Rollo caught it right on +the nose of the bat and sent it whizzing directly at the pitcher. Mr. +Holliday held his hands straight out before him and spread his fingers. + +"I've got her!" he shouted. + +And then the ball hit his hands, scattered them, and passed on against +his chest with a jolt that shook his system to its foundations. A +melancholy howl rent the air as he doubled up and tried to rub his chest +and knead all his fingers on both hands at the same time. + +"Rollo," he gasped, "you go to bed, too! Go to bed and stay there six +weeks. And when you get up, put on one of your sister's dresses and play +golf. You'll never learn to play ball if you practice a thousand years. +I never saw such a boy. You have probably broken my lung. And I do not +suppose I shall ever use my hands again. You can't play tiddle-de-winks. +Oh, dear; oh, dear!" + +Rollo sadly laid away the bat and the ball and went to bed, where he and +Thanny sparred with pillows until tea time, when they were bailed out of +prison by their mother. Mr. Holliday had recovered his good humor. His +fingers were multifariously bandaged and he smelled of arnica like a +drug store. But he was reminiscent and animated. He talked of the old +times and the old days, and of Peoria and Hinman's, as was his wont oft +as he felt boyish. + +"And town ball," he said, "good old town ball! There was no limit to the +number on a side. The ring was anywhere from three hundred feet to a +mile in circumference, according to whether we played on a vacant +Pingree lot or out on the open prairie. We tossed up a bat--wet or +dry--for first choice, and then chose the whole school on the sides. The +bat was a board, about the general shape of a Roman galley oar and not +quite so wide as a barn door. The ball was of solid India rubber; a +little fellow could hit it a hundred yards, and a big boy, with a +hickory club, could send it clear over the bluffs or across the lake. We +broke all the windows in the school-house the first day, and finished up +every pane of glass in the neighborhood before the season closed. The +side that got its innings first kept them until school was out or the +last boy died. Fun? Good game? Oh, boy of these golden days, paying +fifty cents an hour for the privilege of watching a lot of hired men do +your playing for you--it beat two-old-cat." + + +SPELL AND DEFINE: + +Instruction +Instantaneity +Liniment +Miscalculation +Pastime +Contusion +Paralysis +Hasty +Supererogation + + Can a boy learn anything without a teacher?--Does the pupil ever + know more than the instructor?--And why not?--How long does it + require one to learn to speak and write the Spanish language + correctly in six easy lessons, at home, without a master?--And in + how many lessons can one be taught to walk Spanish?--What is meant + by a "rooter"?--What is the difference between a "rooter" and a + "fan"?--Parse "hoodoo."--What is the philology of + "crank"?--Describe a closely contested game of "one-old-cat," with + diagrams.--What is meant by "a rank decision"?--Translate into + colloquial English the phrase, "Good eye Bill!"--Put into bleaching + board Latin, "Rotten umpire."--Why is he so called? + + + + +MR. HARE TRIES TO GET A WIFE + +BY ANNE VIRGINIA CULBERTSON + + +One day the children's mother told them that she was going to spend a +few days at a plantation some miles away, taking with her Aunt Nancy, +who was anxious to pay a little visit to a daughter living in that +neighborhood. Aunt 'Phrony, she told them, had promised to come and look +after them during her absence. + +"Oh, please, mamma," they begged, "let Aunt 'Phrony take us nutting? She +told us one day that she knew where there were just lots and lots of +walnuts." So it was arranged that they should take a luncheon with them +and make a day of it, Aunt 'Phrony being perfectly willing, for her +Indian blood showed itself not only in her appearance, but in her love +for a free out-of-door life, and her fondness for tramping. She would +readily give up a day's work at any time to discharge some wholly +insignificant errand which involved a walk of many miles. + +The day was a bright and beautiful one in October, warm, yet with a +faint nip of last night's frost lingering in the air. They made a fine +little procession through the woods, Aunt 'Phrony leading, followed by +children, a darky with baskets, her grandson "Wi'yum," and lastly the +dogs, frisking and frolicking and darting away every now and then in +pursuit of small game. A very weary and hungry little party gathered +about the baskets at one o'clock, and three little pairs of white hands +were stained almost as brown as those of Aunt 'Phrony and William. But +everybody was happy, and there was a nice pile of walnuts to go back in +the large bag which William had brought for the purpose. The dogs sat +around and looked longingly on, a squirrel frisked hastily across a log +near-by, the birds chattered in the trees high above and looked +curiously down on the intruders, and presently a foolish hare went +scurrying across the path, so near the dogs that they sat still, amazed +at his presumption, and forbore to chase him. + +"Hi! there goes 'ol' Hyar'!'" shouted Ned; "I'm going to see if I can't +catch him." But he soon gave up the hopeless chase. + +"Was that your 'ol' Hyar',' Aunt 'Phrony; your ol' Hyar' you tell us all +about?" asked little Kit. + +"Bless de chil'!" said she. "Naw, 'twuz de ol', ol' Hyar' I done tol' +you 'bout, de gre't-gre't-gre't-sump'n-ru'rr grandaddy er dis one, I +reckon." + +"Aunt 'Phrony," said Janey, "couldn't you tell us some more about the +old hare while we sit here and get rested?" + +"Now de laws-a-mussy," said 'Phrony, "ef we gwine 'mence on de ol' tales +I reckon I mought ez well mek up my min' ter spen' de res' er de day +right yer on dis spot," and she leaned back against a pine tree and +closed her eyes resignedly. Presently she opened them to ask, "Is I uver +tol' you 'bout de time Mistah Hyar' try ter git him a wife? I isn'? +Well, den, dat de one I gwine gin you dis trip. Hit happen dis-a-way: +Hyar' he bin flyin' all 'roun' de kyountry fer right long time, +frolickin' an' cuttin' up, jes' a no-kyount bachelder, an' las' he git +kind er tired uv hit, an' he see all tu'rr creeturs gittin' ma'ied an' +he tucken hit inter his haid dat 'twuz time he sottle down an' git him a +wife; so he primp hisse'f up an' slick his hya'r down wid b'argrease an' +stick a raid hank'cher in his ves'-pockit an' pick him a button-hole +f'um a lady's gyarden, an' den he go co'tin' dis gal an' dat gal an' +tu'rr gal. He 'mence wid de good-lookin' ones an' wind up wid de ugly +ones, but 'twan't nair' one dat 'ud lissen to 'im, 'kase he done done so +many mean tricks an' wuz sech a hyarum-skyarum dat dey wuz all 'feared +ter tek up wid 'im, an' so dey shet de do' in his face w'en he git ter +talkin' sparky, dough dar wan't no pusson cu'd do dat sort er talkin' +mo' slicker 'n w'at he cu'd. But he done gin de creeturs jes' li'l too +much 'havishness, so 'twan't no use. + +"He think de marter all over an' he say ter hisse'f: 'Dem fool gals +dunno w'at dey missin', but ef dey s'pose I gwine gin up an' stay +single, dey done fool derse'fs dis time. I ain' gwine squatulate wid 'em +ner argyfy ner beg no mo', but I gwine whu'l right in an' do sump'n.' + +"Atter he study a w'ile he slap one han' on his knee, an' he 'low, he +do: 'Dat's de ticket! dat's de ticket! I reckon dey'll fin' ol' man +Hyar' ain' sech a fool ez he looks ter be, atter all.' + +"He go lopin' all roun', leavin' wu'd at ev'y house in de kyountry dat a +big meetin' bin hilt an' a law passed dat ev'yb'dy gotter git ma'ied, +young an' ol', rich an' po', high an' low. He say ter hisse'f, +'_ev'yb'dy_, dat mean me, too, so dish yer whar I boun' ter git me a +wife.' + +"De creeturs place der 'pennance on him, dough he done tucken 'em in so +often, an' on de 'pinted day dey met toge'rr; de gals all dress' up in +der Sunday clo'es an' de mens fixed up mighty sprucy, an' sech a pickin' +an' choosin' you nuver see in all yo' bawn days. De gals dey all stan' +up in line an' de men go struttin' mighty biggitty up an' down befo' +'em, showin' off an' makin' manners an' sayin', 'Howdy, ladiz, howdy, +howdy!' An' de gals dey'd giggle an' twis' an' putt a finger in de +cornders er der moufs, an' w'en a man step up ter one uv 'em ter choose +her out, she'd fetch 'im a li'l tap an' say, 'Hysh! g'way f'um yer, man! +better lemme 'lone!' an' den she'd giggle an' snicker some mo', but I +let you know she wuz sho' ter go wid him in de een'. + +"All dis time Hyar' wuz gwine up an' down de line, bowin' an' scrapin' +an' tryin' ter mek hisse'f 'greeable ter ev'yb'dy, even de daddies an' +de mammies er de gals, whar wuz lookin' on f'um tu'rr side. Dar wuz whar +he miss hit, 'kase w'ile he wuz talkin' ter de mammy uv a mighty likely +li'l gal whar he think 'bout choosin', lo an' beholst, de choosin' wuz +all over, an' w'en Mistah Hyar' turnt roun' dar wan't nair' a gal lef', +an' ev'y man have a wife asseptin' him. + +"Den dey hilt a big darnsin' an' feastin', an' ev'yb'dy wuz happy an' in +a monst'ous good humor, de gals 'kase dey done wot ma'ied, an' de paws +an' de maws 'kase dey done got redd er de gals,--ev'yb'dy 'scusin' +Hyar'. Dey mek lots er game uv 'im, an' w'en dey darnse pas', dey sings +out: 'Heyo! Mistah Hyar', huccome you ain' darnse?' 'Bring yo' wife, ol' +man, an' jine in de fun!' 'Hi! yi! Mistar Hyar', you done ma'y off +ev'yb'dy else an' stay single yo'se'f? Well, dat de meanes' trick you +done played us yit! 'tain' fair!' An' dey snicker an' run on 'twel +Hyar' wish he ain' nuver year de wu'd ma'y. + +"Atter w'ile dey got tired er darnsin' an' tucken der new wifes an' went +off home leavin' Hyar' all by hisse'f, an' I tell you he feel right +lonesome. He git a bad spell er de low-downs an' go squanderin' roun' +thu de woods wid his years drapt an' his paws hangin' limp, studyin' how +he kin git revengemint. Las' he pull hisse'f toge'rr an' he say: 'Come, +Hyar', dis ain't gwine do. Is you done fool ev'yb'dy all dese 'ears an' +den let yo'se'f git fooled by a passel er gals? Naw, suh! I knows w'at I +gwine do dis ve'y minnit. Ef I kain't git me a gal, I kin git me a +widdy, an' some folks laks dem de bes', anyhows. Ef you ma'y a widdy, +she got some er de foolishness knock' outen her befo' you hatter tek her +in han'.' + +"Wid dat he step out ez gaily ez you please. He go an' knock at de do' +uv ev'y house, an' w'en de folks come ter de do' dey say, 'W'y, howdy, +Mistah Hyar', whar you bin keepin' yo'se'f all dis time?' He say, he do: +'Oh, I bin tendin' ter de 'fairs er de kyountry, an' I is sont unter you +ez a messenger. I is saw'y ter tell you dey done hilt nu'rr big meetin' +an' mek up der min's de worl' gittin' too many creeturs in hit, so dey +pass de law dat dar mus' be a big battle, an' you is all ter meet +toge'rr at de 'pinted time, an' each man mus' fall 'pun de man nex' him +an' try fer ter kill 'im.' + +"De creeturs assept dis wid submissity, dey ain' 'spicion Hyar' 't all. +On de 'pinted day dey met toge'rr, an' each wuz raidy ter defen' +hisse'f. Hyar' wuz dar lak all de res', an' ef you'd 'a seed all de +spears an' bows an' arrers he kyarry, an' all de knifes stickin' in his +belt, you'd 'a thought he wuz de bigges' fighter dar. But sho! W'en de +fightin' begin, hit wuz far'-you-well, gentermans! 'Twan't no Hyar' dar; +he jes' putt out tight 'z he kin go. W'en dey see him goin' dey sing +out: 'Hi, dar! Whar you gwine? Whyn't you stay wid we-all?' + +"Hyar' ain' stop ter talk, he jes' look roun' over his shoulder w'iles +he 'z runnin' an' he say, sezee: 'De man I wanster kill, he done runned +'way an' I'se atter him. Kain't stop to talk; git outen my way, +ev'yb'dy, + + _'Cle'r de track, fer yer me comin', + I'se ol' Buster whar keep things hummin'.'_ + +"W'en de battle wuz over, de creeturs miss Hyar', an' dey say he mus' be +'mongs' de kilt, so dey go roun' lookin' at de daid, but 'twan't no +Hyar' dar. Dey hunt ev'ywhar fer him an' las' dey foun' him squattin' in +de bresh, tremlin' ez ef he have de ager an' nigh mos' skeert ter de'f. +Dey drug him outen dat an' dey ses: 'So dish yer's Buster whar keep +things hummin'! Well, we gwine mek you hum dis time, sho' 'nuff. You +putts we-all ter fightin' an' gits heap er good men kilt off, an' yer +_you_ settin' tuck 'way safe in de bresh.' + +"Den ol' Hyar' he up an' 'fess he done de hull bizness so's't de +kyountry mought be full er widdies an' he git him his pick fer a wife, +fer he 'lowed widdies wan't gwine be so p'tickler ez de gals. De +creeturs jes' natchully hilt up der han's at him, dey wuz plumb outdone. +'De owdacious vilyun!' dey ses, 'we boun' ter exescoot him on de spot +an' git shed uv 'im onct fer all.' But he baig mighty hard an' some uv +'em think he be wuss punish ef dey jes' gins 'im a good hidin' an' lets +'im live on alone, a mis'able ol' bachelder, widout no pusson ter tek +notuss uv 'im, 'kase none er de widdies wuz gwine ma'y a cowerd." + +"Why, Aunt 'Phrony," said Ned, "he must have found a wife at last, for +how about Mis' Molly Hyar'?" + +"Shucks!" said she, "is _I_ uver tol' you 'bout Mis' Molly Hyar'? Naw, +suh, she b'longs in dem ol' nigger tales whar Nancy tells you. De Injun +tales ain' say nuttin' 'bout no wife er his'n. He wuz too gre't a +fighter an' too full er 'havishness uver ter sottle down wid a wife; an' +now lemme finish de tale. + +"Dey gin him a turr'ble trouncin' an' den turnt him aloose, an' stidder +gittin' him a wife he got him a hide dat smart f'um haid ter heels; but +w'en my daddy tell dat tale he useter een' her up dis-a-way, 'An' mebby +Hyar' git de bes' uv 'em, atter all, 'kase w'en you git a hidin', de +smart's soon over, but w'en you git a wife, de mis'ry done come ter +stay.'" + + + + +THE CO-OPERATIVE HOUSEKEEPERS[2] + +BY ELLIOTT FLOWER + + + Ten thoughtful women, ever wise, + A wondrous scheme did once devise + For ease, and to economize. + + "Coöperation!" was their cry, + And not a husband dared deny + 'Twould life and labor simplify. + + One gardener, the ten decreed, + Was all the neighborhood would need + To plant and trim and rake and weed. + + The money saved they could invest + As vagrant fancy might suggest, + And each could then be better dressed. + + So well this worked that, on the whole, + It seemed to them extremely droll + To pay so much for handling coal. + + One man all work then undertook, + And former methods they forsook, + Deciding even on one cook. + + One dining-room was next in line, + Where, free from care, they all could dine + At less expense, as you'll divine. + + "Two maids," they said, "could quickly flit + From home to home, so why permit + Expense that brings no benefit?" + + Economy of cash and care + Became a hobby of the fair, + Until their husbands sought a share. + + "Although," the latter said, "all goes + For luxuries and costly clothes, + The method still advantage shows. + + "While we've not gained, we apprehend + Good Fortune will on us attend, + If we continue to the end. + + "If you've succeeded, why should we + From constant toil be never free? + One income should sufficient be; + + "And, taking turns in earning that, + We'll have the leisure to wax fat + And spend much time in idle chat. + + "So let us see the matter through, + And, in this line, it must be true + One house for all will surely do. + + "And if one house means less of strife, + To gain the comforts of this life, + Why, further progress means one wife." + + * * * * * + + Ten women now, their acts attest, + Prefer ten homes, and deem it best + To let coöperation rest. + +[Footnote 2: Lippincott's Magazine.] + + + + +A COMMITTEE FROM KELLY'S + +BY J.V.Z. BELDEN + + +"Katherine--give it up, dear--" The man looked down into the earnest +eyes of the girl as she sat in the shadow of a palm in the conservatory +at the Morrison's. Strains of music from the ball-room fell on unheeding +ears and she sighed as she looked up at him. + +"I can not turn back now, Everett," she said. "Ever since that day I +spent down on the east side I have looked at life from a different +standpoint. A message came to me then and I must listen. For a year I +have been preparing myself to take my part in this work. To-morrow I +take possession of what is called a model flat, and I hope to teach +those poor little children something besides the _three R's_. To tell +them how to take a little sunshine into their dismal homes." She looked +like some fair saint with her face illumined with love of humanity. + +"Might I venture to suggest that there is plenty of room for sunshine in +an old house up the Avenue," said the man wistfully. + +The girl looked up quickly--"Don't, Everett, give me six months to see +what I can do--then I will answer the question you asked me last night." + +"Oh, my dear, my dear," he said, "you do not know how I hate to have you +go down there. My sympathy with the great unwashed is not deep enough +for me to be willing to have you mingle with them. Then, to be quite +honest, I have found them rather a happy lot." + +"Listen, Everett," said the girl. "Come down to me a month from to-night +and I will show you that I am right and you are wrong." + +"A _whole_ month!" the man protested. + +"Yes, a whole month--" + + * * * * * + +The sun was shining into the front windows of a room on the first floor +of a high tenement down on the east side. A snow-white bed stood far +enough from the wall to allow it to be made up with perfect ease. In +front of it stood a screen covered with pretty chintz; white muslin +curtains hung at the windows; everything was spotless from the +kalsomined ceiling to the oiled floors, where a few bright-colored rugs +made walking possible. As Katherine Anderson explained to some scoffing +friends who came down to take luncheon with her. + +"Everything is clean and in its proper place and the object-lesson is +invaluable to these poor children. If you go into their homes you will +find that the bed is a bundle of rags in some dark closet, while the +front room is kept for company. Here I show them how easily this sunny +room is made into a sitting-room by putting that screen in front of the +bed and then there is a healthful place to sleep. You may think that I +am over-enthusiastic, but I enjoy my classes and I assure you they are +_all day long_, for besides the usual schoolroom work we have cooking +classes, physical culture, nature classes and little talks about all +sorts of things. I have one girl who I know is going to be a great +novelist, she has such an imagination," said Katherine. "Her big sister +always has a duplicate of anything of mine the child happens to admire, +and the other day she came rushing in with the tale that 'burglars' had +broken into their house the night before and stolen twenty bottles of +ketchup and 'some _preserts_.'" + +"Had they?" asked the guest. "What peculiar taste in burglary!" + +"No," laughed Katherine; "she has no big sister and their house is one +back room four flights up." + +Four weeks had passed since the Morrison dinner, and Katherine was +tired. Then, too, she was not altogether sure that her mission was a +success. Was she wishing for the fleshpots of upper Fifth Avenue, or was +it just physical weariness that would pass with the night? She had sent +off a note in the morning: + + "MY DEAR EVERETT--The work of the model flat is still in existence, + and it is almost a month--a whole month. On Saturday afternoon I am + expecting some of the mothers to come and tell me what they think + of the work we are doing for their children. They will probably be + gone by five o'clock, and if you care to come down at that time I + might be induced to go out to dinner with you. Don't bother about a + chaperon. As I feel now, I could chaperon a chorus girl myself. + + "Cordially, + "KATHERINE." + +Whether the meeting at Mrs. Kelly's had been called together by engraved +cards, by postals, or simply by shrieking from one window to another, I +do not know, but there was evidently some excitement, some deep feeling +which needed expression among the little crowd of women in the fourth +floor, back. + +"I tell ye," shouted Mrs. Kelly, to make herself heard above the din of +many voices, "I tell ye we must organize, an' Tim Kelly himself says it. +Only last Satady night, an' him swearin' wid hunger, an' me faintin' wid +the big wash I had up the Avenoo, what did we come home to but hull +wheat bred an' ags olla Beckymell. There stood my Katy, wid her han's on +her hips, a-sayin' as 'teacher said' them things was nourishiner than +b'iled cabbage. Well, Tim was that mad he broke every plate on the table +an' then went and drank hisself stiff in Casey's saloon." + +"And what do ye think," cried Mrs. McGinniss, as Mrs. Kelly stopped for +breath, "the other night, when me an' some frinds was comin' in for a +quiet avenin', we found my Ellen Addy had hauled the bed into the front +room, an' she an' the young ones was all asleep, an' up to the winders +was my best petticut cut in two. When I waked her up she whined, +'Teacher says it ain't healthy to sleep in back.' Did ye ever hear the +like of that? an' every blessed one of them kids born there!" + +"Now, wha' d'ye think o' that?" murmured the crowd. + +Mrs. Kelly caught her breath and began again. "I've axed ye to come here +because teacher sent word that she'd like the mothers to come of a +Satady and tell her how they liked what she was doin' for the young +ones. Tim says as they sends a committee from men's meetings, and I +think if Mrs. McGinniss, Mrs. McGraw and me was to riprisint this +gatherin' we could tell her how we all feels." + +It was Saturday afternoon, and the model flat was in perfect order, +while the little servant, called "friend" by Miss Anderson, waited in +her spotless apron to answer the bell. Another object-lesson for the +mothers who were expected. The bell rang and three women walked soberly +into the little hall. + +"I am so glad to see you, Mrs. Kelly, and you, Mrs. McGinniss." She +hesitated at the third name. + +"'Tis Mrs. McGraw," said Mrs. Kelly. + +"Bring the tea, Louisa," said Miss Anderson, "and then I want to show +you how pleasant my home is here." + +Mrs. Kelly gave a sniff. "Hum, yessum, it's sunny, but I've seen your +home up town, and it's beyond the likes of me to see why you're down +here at all, at all." + +"Yes," said Mrs. McGinniss, "an' I've come to say that you'd better stay +up there an' stop teachin' my childer about their insides. I'm tired of +hearin' 'I can't eat this an' I can't eat that, cause teacher says there +ain't no food walue.' An' there's Mrs. Polinski, down the street, says +she'll have no more foolishness." + +Mrs. Kelly had caught her breath again. "Her Rebecca come home only +yestidy an' cut all the stitches in Ikey's clo'es, an' him sewed up for +the winter." + +Just then a woman with a shawl over her head came in without knocking. +With a nod to the three women, she faced the teacher. "Now, I'd like to +know one thing," she said; "you sent my Josie home this morning to wash +the patchouly offen her hair; now, I want to know just one thing--does +she come here to be smelt or to be learnt?" + +"There's another thing, too," said Mrs. Kelly; "I want that physical +torture business stopped. The young ones are tearin' all their clo'es +off, an' it's _got to be stopped_!" + +Katherine looked a little dazed and her voice trembled a bit as she +said: "Wouldn't you like to look at the flat?" + +"No, Miss, we wouldn't," said Mrs. Kelly. "You're a nice young woman, +and you don't mean no harm, but it's the sinse av the committee that +you're buttin' in. Good day to ye." And they filed slowly out. + +Katherine, with cheeks aflame, turned toward the door. There was a +twinkle in Landon's eyes as he said: + +"Are you quite ready for dinner, dear?" + +There was a little break in her voice, and she gave him both her hands. + +"Quite ready for--for anything, Everett." + + + + +QUIT YO' WORRYIN' + +BY ANNE VIRGINIA CULBERTSON + + + Nigger nuver worry,-- + Too much sense fer dat, + Let de white folks scurry + Roun' an' lose dey fat, + Nigger gwine be happy, nuver-min'-you whar he at. + + Nigger jes' kain't worry,-- + Set him down an' try, + No use, honey, fer he + Sho' ter close he eye, + Git so pow'ful sleepy dat he pass he troubles by. + + Cur'ous, now, dis trouble + Older dat hit grown, + 'Stid er gittin' double, + Dwinnle ter de bone; + Nigger know dat, so dat why he lef' he troubles 'lone. + + Nigger nuver hurry, + Dem w'at wants ter may; + Hurry hit mek worry! + Now you year me say + Ain' gwine hurry down de road ter meet ol' Def half-way! + + Den quit yo' hurryin', + Quit yo' worryin'! + W'at de use uv all dis scurryin'? + Mek ol' Time go sof' an' slow, + Tell him you doan' want no mo' + Dish yer uverlastin' flurryin',-- + Jes' a trick er his fer hurryin' + Folks de faster to'des dey burryin'! + + + + +HER "ANGEL" FATHER[3] + +BY ELLIOTT FLOWER + + + "My Papa is an angel now," + The little maiden said. + We noted her untroubled brow, + Her gayly nodding head, + And then, of course, we wondered how + She could have been misled. + + We felt that she was wrong, and yet + We spoke in accents low, + For life with perils is beset, + And friends oft quickly go. + But she was right; he'd gone in debt + To "back" a burlesque show. + +[Footnote 3: Lippincott's Magazine.] + + + + +ESPECIALLY MEN + +BY GEORGE RANDOLPH CHESTER + + +The tantalizing stream on the other side of the hedge seemed, to the hot +and tired young man, to lead the way straight into the heart of Paradise +itself. Six weary miles of white highway, wavering with heat and misty +with hovering dust clouds, still lay between himself and the railroad +that would whisk him away to the city. Behind him, conquered at +fatiguing cost, were six more miles, stretching back to the village +where not even a team could be hired on Sunday. Rather than spend the +day in that dismal abode of Puritanism he had fled on foot, his business +done, and this little creek, mocking, alluring, irresistible, was the +only cheerful thing on which his eyes had rested in that whole stifling +journey. + +Even this had a drawback. He glanced up again, with a puzzled frown, at +the queer sign glaring down at him from the hedge. It was the third one +of the sort in the past quarter of a mile: + + _TRESPASSERS_ + + _Are warned from these premises + under penalty of the law_ + + _ESPECIALLY MEN_ + +He turned away impatiently. Dust, dust, dust! He could feel it pasty on +his tongue, gritty on his lips, grimy on his face. It had stiffened his +hair, clogged his nostrils, sifted through his clothing, settled into +his shoes. It was everywhere and all-pervading. + +The forbidden creek, in the very refinement of derision, suddenly +bubbled into a bar of clinking song--a perfect ecstasy of crystal +notes--then as suddenly died down, babbling and gurgling, and flowed +smoothly on, whispering and murmuring to itself of the delights to come +in the heart of the cool woods. Just here, with a swift sweep between +mossy, curved banks, the stream turned its back to him and hurried away +among the trees with a coy invitation that was well-nigh maddening. He +remembered just such a creek as that where, as a boy, he had used to go +with his companions after school. + +How delightful those boyish swims had been! In fancy he could still feel +the chill shock as he had plunged in, the sharp catching of his breath, +the resounding splash, the shower of icy drops, the soft yielding of the +water--then the delicious buoyancy that had pervaded his limbs. He +wondered, with a whimsical smile, how long he could "stay under," and if +he could hold his eyes open while he dived, and if he could still swim +"dog fashion" and back-handed on his back, and if he could float and +tread water and "turtle." + +How cool and shady and restful it looked in there! Just before the creek +turned behind a clump of dogwood, a patch of sunlight lay on it, +shooting down through the misty twilight of broad oak trees, and the +surface of the water dimpled and glinted and laughed and flirted at him, +before it slipped away into leaf-dimmed sylvan solitudes, in a way that +was not to be longer resisted. He gave one more glance of distaste at +the white hot road and gave up the struggle. + +"Here goes the 'especial man,'" he said, looking up at the sign in +smiling defiance, and forced his way through the hedge. + +What a coquettish little stream that was! It leaped merrily down tiny, +boulder-strewn inclines to show him how light-hearted and care-free it +could be; it flowed sedately between narrow banks of turf to display its +perfect propriety; it coyly hid behind walls of graceful, slender +willows; it danced impudently into the open and dashed across clear +spaces in frantic haste to escape him; it spread out, clear and limpid, +upon little bars of golden sand, pretending frankly to reveal its pure, +inmost depths; then raced on again, ever beckoning, ever enticing, ever +cajoling, until at last it plunged straight at a wall of dense, tangled +underbrush, and, with a vixenish gurgle of delight at its own +blandishing duplicity, vanished underneath the low sweeping mass of +leaves without even so much as a good-by! + +The pursuer was not to be daunted. Doggedly he fought his way around and +through the swampy underbrush and presently stood blinking his delighted +eyes in a little natural clearing that was a glorious climax to all the +tantalizing coquetry of the creek. Encircled by drooping, long-leaved +willows that were themselves enringed by stately trees, lay a broad, +deep pool, clear as crystal, one side carpeted with velvety turf and +screened with leafy draperies, and the whole canopied by the smiling +blue sky. With a cry of pleasure the young man hastily threw off his +clothing, and, as he undressed, a school-boy taunt whimsically recurred +to him. + +"Last one in's a nigger!" he shouted to the squirrel that he caught +peering at him from the far side of a limb, and plunged into the pool. + +One by one he gleefully tried all the old boyish tricks until at last, +tiring of them, he lay floating peacefully on his back, looking up at +the sky and covering the entire visible surface of it with air castles, +as young men will. There was no dusty road, no broiling hot sun, no six +miles of weary distance yet to cover. + +There was a rustle and a patter among the trees. Two dogs came bounding +to the edge of the water and barked at the bather in friendly fashion. +They were bouncing big St. Bernards, but scarcely more than puppies, and +they capered and danced in awkward delight when he splashed water at +them. As a further evidence of their friendly feeling they suddenly +pounced upon his clothing. + +"Hey there!" cried the bather, and scrambled out to rescue his apparel. +It was kind of him, the dogs thought, to take so much interest in the +game, and, not to be outdone in heartiness, they scampered off through +the woods, taking the clothes with them. All they left behind was his +hat, his shoes and one sock, his collar and cuffs and tie. He threw +sticks and stones after them and had started to chase them when a new +and dreadful sound smote on his ear. It was the voices of women! + +There was but one safe hiding-place--the pool. With rare presence of +mind he concealed the pathetic remnant of his belongings and plunged +just in time, diving under a clump of low-hanging willows where a +friendly root gave support to his arms and breast. + +Two elderly ladies of severe and forbidding aspect came slowly within +his range of vision. One was tall and thin and the other was short and +thin, while both wore plain, skimp, black gowns and had their hair +parted in the center and smoothed down flatly over their ears. They were +silent with some vexed and weighty problem as they drew near, but, as +they came just opposite to him, the taller of the two suddenly burst out +with: + +"Men, men, men! Nothing but men, morning, noon and night. Please +explain, Sister Ann! Where did Adnah, during my brief absence, get her +sudden curiosity about the despicable sex?" + +"It was the recent visit of Doctor Laura Phelps, Sister Sarah," meekly +replied the smaller woman. "She lost a magazine while here and Adnah +found it. The publication contained several love stories, so-called, an +illustrated article on 'Young Captains of Industry' and another on +'Handsome Young Men of the Stage.' I burned the pernicious thing as soon +as it came into my hands, but, alas, the damage had been done!" + +"Damage, indeed, Sister Ann!" snapped the other. "Since the age of five, +poor Sister Jane's orphan has never been permitted to see a man. Big +country girls have even been hired to do our farm work. And this, _this_ +is the end of fourteen years of self-sacrificing care!" + +The young man in the pool cautiously ducked his head under the water. A +mosquito had settled back of his ear and was driving him mad. + +"Dreadful!" moaned Sister Ann. "Adnah goes about sighing all the day, +and looks over-long in the mirror, and takes unseemly pains with her +dressing, and does up her hair with flowers, and has feverishly pink +cheeks, and likes to sit in a corner and brood, and takes long walks by +herself, and especially, _especially_, seems fond of moonlight!" + +A snake slid down off the bushes into the water near the young man and +he "wanted out," but he stayed. + +"Moonlight!" sniffed Sarah. "Moonlight!" There is no language to express +the disdain with which she spoke this word of philandering and +frivolity. + +"Moonlight is very pretty," ventured the other. "I rather like it +myself." + +"At _your_ time of life!" retorted Sister Sarah. "You are too +sentimental, Sister Ann, as well as too careless." + +Thank Heaven they were going! The young man waited until their voices +died in the distance, then crept cautiously to the bank. He had to find +those dogs, and in a hurry. He had just seated himself to put on his +shoes for the search, when he again heard the voices of women and once +more plunged into the pool, like a monster yellow frog, as he reflected +he must seem to the squirrel in the tree. + +"But, Aunt Matilda, how do you know?" he heard as he came up under the +willows. This new voice, sweet and limpid, belonged to a girl of such +striking appearance that the young man was on the point of forgetting +his dilemma--until that infernal mosquito settled down back of his ear +again! + +"My dear Adnah," said a jerky little voice in answer, "your aunts, +remember, were all young once, and considered great beauties in their +day." There was a world of gentle pride in Aunt Matilda's voice as she +said this, and it sounded so well that she said it over again. "Great +beauties in their day! In consequence they all had their experiences +with men, and know that there is not one to be trusted. Not one, my +child, not one! Believe your aunts." + +"It seems impossible, aunty," declared the soft voice of Adnah. "Why, in +that magazine were the pictures of some of the most noble-looking +creatures--" + +"Tut, tut, child, those are the very worst kind," hastily interrupted +Aunt Matilda. "The more handsome they are, the more dangerous. Since you +remain so incredulous, however, I suppose I shall have to tell you what +we know about them." + +The young man in the pool felt his circulation stopping. The two women +were calmly sitting down on the bank to talk confidences, and from what +he knew of the sex they were as likely as not to sit there until +doomsday, compelling him to appear before the angel Gabriel without even +a shroud. He was conscious of the beginning of a cramp in his left leg +and his shoulders were becoming icy. He had to be motionless, too, and +that was another hardship. The least movement might betray him, for the +women sat quite near, and Adnah was facing him. Thanks to the thickness +of his leafy hiding-place she could not see him, but he could see her +quite plainly, and she was well worth looking at. She, too, wore a +plain, skimp, black dress, and her brown hair was parted in the center +and smoothed down over her ears, but there the resemblance to Aunt +Matilda and the others ended, for her hair was wavy in spite of the +severely straight brushing, and it glinted gold where little flecks of +sunlight filtered through the branches of the tall trees to caress it. +In the hair, too, was a single red rose, caught into place with a +natural grace that it seemed a pity to waste on three spinster aunts and +two dogs, and the same note of color was repeated in another rebellious +blossom at the throat. The young face was plump and oval, and the cheeks +were pink, the brown eyes were wide and sparkling and--Oh, well, the +young man in the pool stopped cataloguing her attractions and simply +summed her up as a stunningly pretty girl. Then he tried once more to +get rid of that maddening mosquito and wished to high Heaven that they +would go! + +"When our dear mother died we four girls were all quite young," began +Aunt Matilda, pausing primly to smooth down her skirts, and the young +man in the watery prison gave up in despair. She was starting out like +the old-fashioned story books, which never arrived any place, and never +knew how to get back if they did. "Your Aunt Sarah was eighteen years +old, your Aunt Ann and myself sixteen, and your poor, deluded mother +fourteen. Our father, child, married again within the year, and so you +see our acquaintance with the duplicity of men began at a very early +age. Of course, we refused to live with a stepmother or to allow her to +occupy our own dear mother's house. Left, then, upon our own +responsibilities at so tender a period of our lives, it behooved us to +conduct ourselves with the strictest of propriety, and I am most happy +to say that we came triumphantly through the ordeal. Naturally, we being +great beauties in those days, my child, great beauties, many gay young +men fluttered about us, and some of them really made quite favorable +impressions upon us. There was one in particular--" + +Aunt Matilda paused for a sigh and fixed her eyes in sad reminiscence +upon a little clump of ferns that, full of conceit, were waving +incessant salutes at their dainty reflections in the water. + +"Hang the story of her life!" muttered the miserable youth in the pool. +His teeth were beginning to chatter. + +"Do go on, aunty!" cried the eager Adnah. + +"Well, child, they were all alike. Having insinuated their way into our +confidences by agreeable manners and by their really indisputable +attractiveness, having aroused the beginnings of tender emotions, what +did these young men do, one and all? Why, instead of waiting until the +acquaintance had ripened into mutual undying affection and then falling +gracefully to their knees with honorable proposals of marriage, they one +and all chose what seemed to be favorable moments and strove, by +cajolery or stealth or even force, to kiss us. To _kiss_ us!" + +"Gracious!" exclaimed Adnah. + +There was a moment's silence. The young man in the pool could feel the +goose-flesh pimpling between his shoulder blades. + +"After all, though, it might not have been so very dreadful," finally +commented Adnah, after a thoughtful sigh. + +"Adnah!" cried the horrified Aunt Matilda. "I am astounded!" + +"I can't help it, aunty," said Adnah. "I can't make it seem so terrible, +no matter how hard I try. In fact it--it seems to me that it would have +been--well--rather nice." + +"Adnah!" + +"But, aunty, didn't it ever seem that way to you, sometimes?" + +Aunt Matilda was shocked and silent for a moment, then over her pale +cheeks crept a pink flush. + +"I'll not deny," she presently confessed in a hesitant voice, "that if +we had not had each other to rely upon for firmness we might perhaps +have been deluded by some of these young scapegraces. They were truly +quite appealing at times. There was one in particular--" + +Again Aunt Matilda became lost in meditation. The young man in the pool +swore softly, even though he perceived the tear that trembled upon the +lady's eyelash. It was impossible to be sympathetic while a leech was +fastened to his ankle. + +"My mother must have thought the way I do, I am sure," persisted Adnah. +The remark brought Aunt Matilda out of the past with a jerk. + +"Your poor mother had the most pitiful experience of all, child," she +replied. "She married. Shortly after you were born, she died, +fortunately spared all knowledge of your father's faithless fickleness. +Adnah, he, too, married again! You, Adnah, was too young to protect +yourself from a stepmother, but we came to your rescue. Your great +uncle, Peter, had just died and left us this fine estate, and here we +are, trying to shield you from the wiles of the destroyer, man!" + +"Some men must be nice, or so many, many girls would not want them," +commented Adnah, still unconvinced. + +"I'll not deny, dear, that some of them _seem_ quite nice," admitted the +other with a sigh. "There was one in particular--" + +The dogs interrupted at this moment with a racing struggle for some red +and brown object. + +"_Now_ what has Castor got?" cried Adnah, jumping up to give chase in a +healthy and delightful burst of speed. + +The youth in the pool dismally realized that Castor had his missing +sock, a brown lisle affair with a quaint red pattern in it, at a dollar +a pair. His teeth were pounding together like castanets, now, so loudly +that he feared Aunt Matilda must surely hear them. Adnah presently +returned, flushed rosy red by the exercise and more charming than ever. + +"I couldn't catch them," she panted. "Gracious, but I am warm! There is +plenty of time for a plunge before dinner. Just wait, Aunt Mattie, until +I run for the bathing suits," and she flashed away again. + +Great Cæsar's ghost! The hidden youth grew so warm with apprehension +that the goose-flesh disappeared and the chattering of his teeth +stopped. His dilemma was unspeakable and unsolvable, seemingly, but +suddenly it was solved for him. The dogs came back! + +The sock had been shredded and they sought fresh diversion. After a +cordially barked invitation for the young man to come out and play, they +went in after him. There was a tremendous splashing struggle. Suddenly +the willows were pulled down by a muscular bare arm, and the face of a +young man appeared above it to the astounded gaze of Aunt Matilda. + +"Excuse me, madam," he began, lunging viciously at Castor and Pollux +with his feet. "Please call off your dogs." + +Aunt Matilda, pale but determined, whipped an antiquated monster of a +pistol from her pocket, though she held it far off from her and to one +side, with no intention, past, present or future, of ever firing it. It +got its effectiveness from size alone, and was built for pure moral +suasion if ever a pistol was. + +"Hold perfectly still or I shall shoot," she quaveringly warned him. +"You are a male trespasser, sir!" + +"I sincerely regret it, madam," replied the culprit, slapping viciously +at the mosquito behind his ear. He got it that time. + +"You probably will," freezingly retorted Aunt Matilda. "I shall +telephone for the sheriff immediately, and if you are still here when he +arrives you shall receive the full penalty of the law." + +The young man did some quick thinking. It was necessary. + +"Madam, your dogs have stolen my clothing and my money, and I can not +leave until I get them back," he presently declared with lucky +inspiration. "If you have me arrested for trespass I shall bring suit +for the recovery of property." + +Aunt Matilda was sufficiently perplexed to lower her pistol and allow +him to explain, while she coaxed the dogs out of the water. He was a +splendid talker, and had fine, honest-looking blue eyes. + +There was a rush of swift footsteps among the trees. + +"Hide!" she commanded in sudden panic. + +He promptly hid, and when Adnah arrived with the bathing suits, that +young lady found her aunt calmly seated on the ground, holding Castor +and Pollux each by a dripping collar. + +"Leave my suit and return to the house at once with these dogs," +directed Aunt Matilda without turning her head. + +"Why, Aunt Mattie, what's the matter?" + +"Nothing!" snapped Aunt Matilda in desperation. "Go back to the house +and stay until I come. Ask no questions." + +Adnah searched the scene in mystification for a moment. + +"Yes, aunty," she suddenly said, and walked away in a flutter of +excitement. She had caught the gleam of a bright eye peering at her from +among the willows! + +She burst into a spontaneous rhapsody of song as she went, trilling and +warbling in sweet, untaught cadences, unconsciously like a bird singing +to its mate in the springtime. She had a wonderful voice. The young man +was sorry when she was out of hearing, but glad, too, for the water was +beginning to pucker his cuticle in hard ridges like a wash-board. + +"Now, young man," said Aunt Matilda, "I shall leave this bathing suit +here for your use. I shall expect you to put it on and retire from the +premises as quickly as possible." + +"I must remain until nightfall," was the firm reply. "I must find my +money and clothes. I should feel ridiculous to be seen in such clothing +as that. You, yourself, would scarcely care to have me seen emerging +from your premises, on Sunday especially, in such outlandish garments." + +That last argument told. Aunt Matilda visibly weakened. + +"Very well, then," she grudgingly agreed, "but at dusk--Mercy, young +man, how your teeth do chatter! Are you getting a chill? I'll bring you +a bowl of boneset tea and some dinner right away!" and she hurried off +in much concern. + +The young man lost no time in getting into that bathing suit, for the +chill of the water was upon him. The suit consisted merely of a pair of +blue bloomers that came just below his knees, and a blue blouse that +split down the back and at the armpits the moment he buttoned it in +front; still he was very grateful for it--grateful for the warm glow +that began to pervade him the moment he had donned it. He put on his one +sock and his shoes, his hat, collar, tie and cuffs to keep the dogs from +getting them, and was quite comfortable when Aunt Matilda came bustling +back with a bowl of steaming tea and a tray loaded with good things to +eat. + +She sat by admiring his appetite until he had finished, then she made +him drink the boneset tea to the last drop. He talked admirably all +through the "dinner," and it was with a sigh of almost regret that she +started away with the empty dishes. She came back presently. + +"You will find our summer cottage up in that direction," she pointed +out. "We shall expect you to--to keep out of range during the day, but +to report at the kitchen door at dusk, when you will be escorted to the +road." + +"I shall follow your instructions to the letter," he assured her, and +she again slowly walked away. To save her, the man-hater could not think +of another reasonable excuse for prolonging the interview. He was a most +gentlemanly young man, and he had splendid eyes! + +The male trespasser spent the next hour in hunting clothes and +anathematizing dogs. His finds were confined strictly to rags and +pairless arms and sleeves, and finally he gave up, with everything +accounted for but worthless. Discovering a high, grassy plot near the +creek, screened from the woods by a thick copse of hazel bushes, he lay +down to think matters over and promptly fell asleep. + +Perhaps half an hour later he slowly opened his eyes with the feeling +that he was being compelled to awaken, and found Adnah seated quietly +beside him, keeping the mosquitoes away from him with a gracefully waved +hazel branch. + +"Just sleep right on," she gently urged. "I often sleep for hours on hot +afternoons in this very place." + +"How did you come here?" he demanded, sitting up, startled. + +"I hunted you," she confessed with a delighted little laugh. "I'm so +glad you're awake at last and don't want to sleep any more. I felt just +sure that your eyes were blue. And they are!" + +Her delight at this fact was so obvious that he felt uneasy. + +"You see, I listened outside the window while Aunt Mattie told Aunts Ann +and Sarah all about you," she confidingly went on. "Aunt Sarah and Aunt +Ann were for telephoning for the sheriff anyhow, but Aunt Mattie +wouldn't let them. She likes you. So do I." + +"Oh!" said the astonished young man. For the first time in his life +conversation had failed him. + +"Of course," said the girl simply. "Well, I waited until they all lay +down for their after-dinner naps, and climbed out of my window so as not +to disturb them. They do enjoy their naps so much, you know. I didn't +find you at the pool but I just hunted until I did find you. I've been +sitting here a long time watching you. You look so nice when you are +asleep." + +_Now_ what should he say? With any ordinary girl he could have found +the answer, but this one had him floored. + +"But you look ever so much nicer when you are awake," she further +informed him, with a clear-eyed straightforwardness that was worse than +disconcerting. In desperation he answered, with her own frankness, that +she was nice looking herself. He meant it, too. + +"I'm so glad you think so," she contentedly sighed. "I just knew we +should like each other as soon as I saw you lying there asleep." + +It was he who blushed, not the girl. + +She partly raised up to recapture her hazel branch, and when she sat +down again her shoulder remained lightly touching his arm. An electric +thrill ran through him and tingled out at his fingertips, but he never +moved a muscle. She looked up at him in peaceful happiness and he +somehow felt very mean and unworthy. Her eyes made him uncomfortable. +The whole trouble was that she was so honest--had never been taught to +conceal her thoughts by the thousand and one spoken and unspoken lies of +ordinary social intercourse. She was neither timid nor bold, but merely +natural, with never a suspicion that conventionality demanded a man and +a maid to leave a mutual liking unconfessed. It was rather rough on the +young man. He was not used to having the truth fly around in such +reckless fashion in his conversations with girls, and it bothered him. + +"I'm not a bit afraid of you," she presently told him. "I knew all the +time that Aunt Mattie was wrong. She told me that all men were dreadful, +and that the first thing they did was to--to kiss a girl they liked." + +"She knows nothing about it," he replied rather crossly. For some +unaccountable reason he was angry with himself and with her. + +"Indeed, she doesn't," she agreed, eying him thoughtfully. Presently she +added: "I do not believe, though, that I should have minded it so much +if she had been right." + +Shade of Plato! He looked down at the tempting curve of her red lips. +They were round and full and soft as the petals of a half-blown rosebud, +warm and tender and sweet, with just the least trace of puckering to +indicate how they could meet the pressure of other lips. He felt his +heart come pounding up into the region of his Adam's apple, and he +trembled as he had not done since his first attack of puppy love at the +age of fourteen. His breath came and went with a painful flutter but he +made no movement. If it had been any sort of a girl under the sun, +especially if so attractive as this one, she would have been kissed +until she gasped for breath; but he just couldn't do it. However, if she +went so far as to _ask_ him to kiss her, _by George_! he didn't see how +he was to get out of it! + +"I should really like to kiss you," he admitted with a martyr-like sigh +and a further echo of her own frankness, "but I shan't. Under the +circumstances it would not be right." + +He reflected, grinning, that mother would be proud if she could see him +now, then he thought, grinning harder, of the boys at the club. If +_they_ only knew! + +"There, didn't I say so!" she triumphantly exclaimed. "I told Aunt +Matilda that there certainly must be _some_ good men in the world!" + +Good! He winced as certain memories of his careless youth began to do +cake-walks up and down his conscience. Then he changed the subject. + +She snuggled up closely to him, by and by, confidingly and unsuspicious, +and just talked and talked and talked. It was very pleasant to have her +there at his side, babbling innocently away in that sweet, musical +voice. How pretty she was, how artless and trusting, how honest and how +heart-whole! It came to him that his family and friends had for a long +time been telling him that he ought to get married, and he began to see +that they were right. + +How delightful it would be to stay on forever in this enchanted grove +with her. He presently found himself fervently saying it, though he had +not intended such words to pass his lips. She took the wish as a matter +of course. She had confidently expected him to feel that way about it, +and, if he felt that way, to say so. + +"Adnah Eggleson!" + +They jumped like juvenile jam-thieves caught red-handed. + +Aunt Sarah and Aunt Ann and Aunt Matilda rigidly confronted them, having +stolen upon them unseen, unheard, unthought of, and they stood now in +grim horror, merciless and implacable. They advanced in a swooping body, +after one moment of agonizing suspense, and snatched Adnah into their +midst, glaring three kinds of loathing scorn upon the interloping +serpent. + +"Has this person _kissed_ you, or attempted to do so?" hissed Aunt +Sarah. + +"Not yet," meekly answered poor Adnah. + +"I assure you ladies--," began the serpent, but Aunt Sarah cut him +short. + +"Silence, sir!" she commanded. "We wish no explanations from you, +whatsoever." + +Thus crushing him, the little company wheeled and marched away, bearing +Adnah an unwilling and impenitent captive, two of them ingeniously +keeping behind her so that she should have no opportunity of even +exchanging a backward glance with the serpent. + +Left to himself the serpent moodily kicked holes in the turf. He had an +intense desire to do something violent--to smash something, no matter +what. He was furious with the trio of aunts. It was a shame, he told +himself, to bury alive a beautiful and noble young woman like that, +through a warped and mistaken notion of the world. What right had they +to condemn a sweet and affectionate creature such as she to a starved +and morbid spinsterhood? It was his duty to rescue her from the +colorless fate that hung over her, and he would do his duty. He was +unconsciously flexing his biceps as he said it. + +Would he? How? Should he get out a search warrant or a writ of replevin? +This whimsical view of the case only exasperated him the more as it +presented the utter hopelessness of approaching her--of ever seeing her +again--and, when the dogs came chasing an utterly inconsequential and +useless butterfly in his direction, he pelted them with stones until +they yelped. Hang the dogs, anyhow. It was all their fault! + +Next he blamed himself. If he had only resisted that creek like a man he +wouldn't have been a hundred miles from home without clothes or money, +and silly about a girl he had never seen until that day. + +Then he blamed the girl. Why, _why_ was she such a confiding and +altogether artless and bewitching little fool? She wasn't! He remembered +her eyes and abjectly apologized to the memory of her. She was +everything that was sweet and pure and womanly--everything that was +desirable in every sense--well-bred, well-schooled, unspoiled of the +world, without guile or subterfuge, beautiful, healthy, honest. That had +been the only startling thing about her--just honesty. It spoke ill for +himself and the world in which he lived that this should have seemed +startling! What a wonderful creature she was! By the Eternal, she +belonged to him and he meant to have her! She loved him, too! + +He sat down on the bank to think over this phase of the question. He had +known her several years in the minute and a half since noon, and it was +time this foolishness came to an end. + +Time flies when youth listens to the fancied strains of Mendelssohn's +Spring Song. He was surprised, presently, to note a strange hush +settling down over the woods. A chill vapor seemed to arise from the +water. There was a melancholy note in the tweet of the low-flitting +birds. The rustling trees softened their murmur to a continuous whisper, +soothing and caressing. The tinkle of the creek became more metallic and +pronounced. Near by, down the stream, a sudden chorus of frogs burst +into croaking, their isolated notes blended by the chirping undertone of +the crickets and tree toads. There were other sounds, mysterious, +untraceable, but all musical in greater or lesser degree. + +He understood at last. These sounds, the rustling leaves, the flitting +birds, the tinkling creek, the frogs, tree toads and crickets and those +other intangible cadences, these were the instruments of nature's vast +orchestra, playing their lullaby, languorous and sweet, for the drowsy +day. It was dusk, and he was desperately in love with Adnah, and he had +on a fool bloomer bath suit and no money, and he had to go back into +civilization just as he was. Woe, woe, woe and anathema! + +At the house he found a table set under a big oak tree back of the +kitchen. Supper for one was illumined by the rays of a solitary lantern. +Aunt Sarah and Aunt Ann, each with a pistol in her lap, sat grimly to +one side. Adnah nor Aunt Matilda were anywhere to be seen, and he +divined with a thrill that Aunt Matilda was acting as jailer to the +young woman until he should be safely off the premises. Evidently she +had been hard to manage. Bless the little girl! + +He took off his hat as he approached and bowed respectfully. + +"I should like you to know who I am," he began. + +"You will please to eat your supper without conversation," Aunt Sarah +sternly interrupted. + +"I wish to pay my addresses to your niece," he protested, but the two +ladies, finding rudeness necessary, clasped their hands to their ears. + +"Kindly eat," said Aunt Sarah, without removing her hands. + +He sat down and glared at the food in despair. He thought he heard +Adnah's voice and the sounds of a scuffle in the house, and it gave him +inspiration. He arose, and, leaning his hands on the edge of the table, +shouted as loudly as he could: + +"I am John Melton, of Philadelphia. I will give you as many references +as you like. I wish your permission to write to your niece and, later +on, to call upon her. May I do so?" + +"Are you going to eat your supper?" inquired Aunt Sarah. + +He gave up. He could not, as a gentleman, take Aunt Sarah's hands from +her ears and make her listen to what he had to say. He turned sadly away +from the table. The armed escort also arose. + +"Please lead the way," requested Aunt Sarah. "The path leads directly +from the front of the cottage to the road." + +He had stalked, in dismal silence, almost half way down the winding +avenue of trees, moodily watching the gigantic shadows of his limbs +leaping jerkily among the shrubbery, when it occurred to him that the +women could scarcely carry the lantern and pistols and still hold their +ears. + +"I am John Melton, of Philadelphia," he shouted, and looked back to +address them more directly. Alas, the pistols reposed in the pockets of +the two prim aprons, the lantern smoked askew at Aunt Sarah's waist, and +both women were holding their hands to their ears! + +He could not know that they had been whispering about him, however, and +really, for man-haters, their remarks had been very complimentary. Not +even that ridiculous costume could hide his athletic figure, his good +carriage and pleasant address. + +They were nearing the road when they heard a woman's voice shrieking for +them to wait, and presently Aunt Matilda came running after them, +breathless and excited. + +"You must come back to the house at once, all of you," she panted. +"Adnah is wildly hysterical. She insists that she must have this young +man, monster or no monster--that she will die without him. I truly +believe that she would!" + +"Nonsense!" exclaimed Aunt Sarah. "Come on, then!" + +It was Aunt Sarah who swiftly and anxiously led the way. At the door of +the parlor she paused and confronted the young man. + +"Remember," she warned, "that however impulsive our poor, misguided +niece may appear, you _must_ not kiss her!" + +Without waiting for reply she opened the door for him. Adnah, smiling +happily through the last of her tears, sprang to meet him, and, seizing +his hand, drew him down on the couch beside her. + +"I'm going to keep you here always, now," she declared with pretty +authority, as she locked her arm in his and interlaced their fingers. + +He looked around at the aunts and suddenly longed for his own clothes. +They had drawn their chairs in a close semi-circle about the couch and +were helplessly staring. He felt the hot blood burning in his cheeks, on +his temples, down the back of his neck. + +"You _will_ stay, won't you?" Adnah anxiously asked him. + +"I think I shall take you with me, instead," he replied, smiling down at +her in an attempt to conquer his embarrassment. + +Adnah rapturously sighed. The spectators suddenly arose, retiring to the +far corner of the room, where they held an excited, whispered +consultation. Presently they came back and sat down in the same solemn +half-circle. Aunt Sarah ceremoniously cleared her throat. + +"You will please to unclasp your hands and sit farther apart," she +directed. This obeyed, she proceeded: "Now, Mr. Nelson--" + +"Melton, if you please," corrected the young man, producing a business +card that he had rescued. + +"Oh!" exclaimed the aunts, exchanging wondering glances. + +"We understood that it was Nelson," murmured Aunt Matilda. It seemed +that the hands had not been so tightly clasped over the ears as he had +thought. + +Aunt Sarah gravely adjusted her glasses. + +"'John Melton, Jr.,'" she read. "'Representing Melton and Melton, +Administrators and Real Estate Dealers. General John A. Melton. John +Melton, Jr.'" + +There was a suppressed flutter of excitement and again the three aunts +exchanged surprised glances. + +"I think I may safely say, may I not, Sisters Ann and Matilda, that this +quite alters the case?" was Aunt Sarah's strange query. + +"Quite so, indeed," agreed Aunt Matilda, complacently smoothing her +apron. + +"Very much so," added Aunt Ann. + +"Decidedly," resumed Aunt Sarah. "Your father, young man, handled the +estate of our deceased Uncle Peter in a most upright and satisfactory +fashion--for a man. So far, much is in your favor, since our unfortunate +niece will not be contented without some sort of a husband. Your +personal qualifications have yet to be proved, however. We presume that +you can offer documentary evidence as to your own worth, sir?" + +"Not for a day or so, unfortunately," confessed the young man. "The dogs +destroyed all my papers. The only thing I could find was a portion of a +brief note from my mother." + +The three aunts, as by one electric impulse, bent forward with shining +eyes. + +"From your mother!" hungrily repeated Aunt Sarah. "Let us see it, if you +will, please." + +He produced it reluctantly. It was not exactly the sort of letter a +young man cares to parade. + +"'My beloved son,'" Aunt Sarah read aloud, pausing to bestow a softened +glance upon him. "'I can not wait for your return to say how proud I am +of you. Your noble and generous action in regard to the aged widow +Crane's property has just come to my ears, through a laughing complaint +of your father about your unbusinesslike methods in dealing with those +who have been unfortunate. In spite of his whimsically expressed +disapproval, he feels that you are an honor to him. Your sister Nellie +cried in her pride and love of you when she heard--'" + +The rest of the letter had been lost, but this was enough. + +Adnah had gradually hitched closer to him, and now her hand, unreproved, +stole affectionately to his shoulder. Aunt Matilda was wiping her eyes. +Aunt Ann openly sniffled. Aunt Sarah cleared her throat most violently. + +"Your references are all that we could wish, young man," she presently +admitted in a businesslike tone. "We shall waive, in your favor, our +objections to men in general. If we must have one in the family we are +to be congratulated upon having one whose mother is proud of him." + +Coming from Aunt Sarah this was a marvelous concession. The young man +bowed his head in pleased acknowledgment and, by and by, crossed his +legs in comfort as a home-like feeling began to settle down upon him. +Suddenly observing their bloomered exposure, however, he tried to poke +his legs under the couch, and twiddled his thumbs instead. + +"And when do our young people expect to be married?" meek Sister Ann +presently ventured to inquire. + +"As quickly as possible," promptly answered the young man, smiling +triumphantly down at the girl by his side. He was astonished, and rather +pleased, too, to find her suddenly embarrassed and blushing prettily. + +"I believe, then," announced Aunt Sarah, after due deliberation, "that +you may now kiss our niece; may he not, Sisters Ann and Matilda?" + +"He may!" eagerly assented the others. + +"Very well, then, proceed," commanded Aunt Sarah, folding her arms. + +The young man hastily braced himself to meet this new shock, then gazed +down at the girl again. She was still blushing in her newly-found +self-conscious femininity, but she trustingly held up her pretty lips to +him, looking full into his eyes with the steady flame of her love +burning unveiled--and he kissed her. + +"Ah-h-h-h!" sighed the three man-hating spinsters in ecstatic unison. + + + + +A LETTER FROM A SELF-MADE MERCHANT TO HIS SON + +BY GEORGE HORACE LORIMER + + +[From John Graham, at the London House of Graham & Co., to his son, +Pierrepont, at the Union Stock Yards in Chicago. Mr. Pierrepont is +worried over rumors that the old man is a bear on lard, and that the +longs are about to make him climb a tree.] + +LONDON, October 27, 189- + +_Dear Pierrepont:_ Yours of the twenty-first inst. to hand and I note +the inclosed clippings. You needn't pay any special attention to this +newspaper talk about the Comstock crowd having caught me short a big +line of November lard. I never sell goods without knowing where I can +find them when I want them, and if these fellows try to put their +forefeet in the trough, or start any shoving and crowding, they're going +to find me forgetting my table manners, too. For when it comes to funny +business I'm something of a humorist myself. And while I'm too old to +run, I'm young enough to stand and fight. + +First and last, a good many men have gone gunning for me, but they've +always planned the obsequies before they caught the deceased. I reckon +there hasn't been a time in twenty years when there wasn't a nice "Gates +Ajar" piece all made up and ready for me in some office near the Board +of Trade. But the first essential of a quiet funeral is a willing +corpse. And I'm still sitting up and taking nourishment. + +There are two things you never want to pay any attention to--abuse and +flattery. The first can't harm you and the second can't help you. Some +men are like yellow dogs--when you're coming toward them they'll jump up +and try to lick your hands; and when you're walking away from them +they'll sneak up behind and snap at your heels. Last year, when I was +bulling the market, the longs all said that I was a kindhearted old +philanthropist, who was laying awake nights scheming to get the farmers +a top price for their hogs; and the shorts allowed that I was an +infamous old robber, who was stealing the pork out of the workingman's +pot. As long as you can't please both sides in this world, there's +nothing like pleasing your own side. + +There are mighty few people who can see any side to a thing except their +own side. I remember once I had a vacant lot out on the Avenue, and a +lady came in to my office and in a soothing-sirupy way asked if I would +lend it to her, as she wanted to build a _crèche_ on it. I hesitated a +little, because I had never heard of a _crèche_ before, and someways it +sounded sort of foreign and frisky, though the woman looked like a good, +safe, reliable old heifer. But she explained that a _crèche_ was a baby +farm, where old maids went to wash and feed and stick pins in other +people's children while their mothers were off at work. Of course, there +was nothing in that to get our pastor or the police after me, so I told +her to go ahead. + +She went off happy, but about a week later she dropped in again, +looking sort of dissatisfied, to find out if I wouldn't build the +_crèche_ itself. It seemed like a worthy object, so I sent some +carpenters over to knock together a long frame pavilion. She was mighty +grateful, you bet, and I didn't see her again for a fortnight. Then she +called by to say that so long as I was in the business and they didn't +cost me anything special, would I mind giving her a few cows. She had a +surprised and grieved expression on her face as she talked, and the way +she put it made me feel that I ought to be ashamed of myself for not +having thought of the live stock myself. So I threw in a half dozen cows +to provide the refreshments. + +I thought that was pretty good measure, but the carpenters hadn't more +than finished with the pavilion before the woman telephoned a sharp +message to ask why I hadn't had it painted. + +I was too busy that morning to quarrel, so I sent word that I would fix +it up; and when I was driving by there next day the painters were hard +at work on it. There was a sixty-foot frontage of that shed on the +Avenue, and I saw right off that it was just a natural signboard. So I +called over the boss painter and between us we cooked up a nice little +ad that ran something like this: + + Graham's Extract: + It Makes the Weak Strong. + +Well, sir, when she saw the ad next morning that old hen just +scratched gravel. Went all around town saying that I had given a +five-hundred-dollar shed to charity and painted a thousand-dollar ad on +it. Allowed I ought to send my check for that amount to the _crèche_ +fund. Kept at it till I began to think there might be something in it, +after all, and sent her the money. Then I found a fellow who wanted to +build in that neighborhood, sold him the lot cheap, and got out of the +_crèche_ industry. + +I've put a good deal more than work into my business, and I've drawn a +good deal more than money out of it; but the only thing I've ever put +into it which didn't draw dividends in fun or dollars was worry. That is +a branch of the trade which you want to leave to our competitors. + +I've always found worrying a blamed sight more uncertain than +horse-racing--it's harder to pick a winner at it. You go home worrying +because you're afraid that your fool new clerk forgot to lock the safe +after you, and during the night the lard refinery burns down; you spend +a year fretting because you think Bill Jones is going to cut you out +with your best girl, and then you spend ten worrying because he didn't; +you worry over Charlie at college because he's a little wild, and he +writes you that he's been elected president of the Y.M.C.A.; and you +worry over William because he's so pious that you're afraid he's going +to throw up everything and go to China as a missionary, and he draws on +you for a hundred; you worry because you're afraid your business is +going to smash, and your health busts up instead. Worrying is the one +game in which, if you guess right, you don't get any satisfaction out of +your smartness. A busy man has no time to bother with it. He can always +find plenty of old women in skirts or trousers to spend their days +worrying over their own troubles and to sit up nights waking his. + +Speaking of handing over your worries to others naturally calls to mind +the Widow Williams and her son Bud, who was a playmate of mine when I +was a boy. Bud was the youngest of the Widow's troubles, and she was a +woman whose troubles seldom came singly. Had fourteen altogether, and +four pair of 'em were twins. Used to turn 'em loose in the morning, when +she let out her cows and pigs to browse along the street, and then she'd +shed all worry over them for the rest of the day. Allowed that if they +got hurt the neighbors would bring them home; and that if they got +hungry they'd come home. And someways, the whole drove always showed up +safe and dirty about meal time. + +I've no doubt she thought a lot of Bud, but when a woman has fourteen it +sort of unsettles her mind so that she can't focus her affections or +play any favorites. And so when Bud's clothes were found at the swimming +hole one day, and no Bud inside them, she didn't take on up to the +expectations of the neighbors who had brought the news, and who were +standing around waiting for her to go off into something special in the +way of high-strikes. + +She allowed that they were Bud's clothes, all right, but she wanted to +know where the remains were. Hinted that there'd be no funeral, or such +like expensive goings-on, until some one produced the deceased. Take her +by and large, she was a pretty cool, calm cucumber. + +But if she showed a little too much Christian resignation, the rest of +the town was mightily stirred up over Bud's death, and every one just +quit work to tell each other what a noble little fellow he was; and how +his mother hadn't deserved to have such a bright little sunbeam in her +home; and to drag the river between talks. But they couldn't get a rise. + +Through all the worry and excitement the Widow was the only one who +didn't show any special interest, except to ask for results. But +finally, at the end of a week, when they'd strained the whole river +through their drags and hadn't anything to show for it but a collection +of tin cans and dead catfish, she threw a shawl over her head and went +down the street to the cabin of Louisiana Clytemnestra, an old yellow +woman, who would go into a trance for four bits and find a fortune for +you for a dollar. I reckon she'd have called herself a clairvoyant +nowadays, but then she was just a voodoo woman. + +Well, the Widow said she reckoned that boys ought to be let out as well +as in for half price, and so she laid down two bits, allowing that she +wanted a few minutes' private conversation with her Bud. Clytie said +she'd do her best, but that spirits were mighty snifty and high-toned, +even when they'd only been poor white trash on earth, and it might make +them mad to be called away from their high jinks if they were taking a +little recreation, or from their high-priced New York customers if they +were working, to tend to cut-rate business. Still, she'd have a try, and +she did. But after having convulsions for half an hour, she gave it up. +Reckoned that Bud was up to some cussedness off somewhere, and that he +wouldn't answer for any two-bits. + +The Widow was badly disappointed, but she allowed that that was just +like Bud. He'd always been a boy that never could be found when any one +wanted him. So she went off, saying that she'd had her money's worth in +seeing Clytie throw those fancy fits. But next day she came again and +paid down four bits, and Clytie reckoned that that ought to fetch Bud +sure. Someways though, she didn't have any luck, and finally the Widow +suggested that she call up Bud's father--Buck Williams had been dead a +matter of ten years--and the old man responded promptly. + +"Where's Bud?" asked the Widow. + +Hadn't laid eyes on him. Didn't know he'd come across. Had he joined the +church before he started? + +"No." + +Then he'd have to look downstairs for him. + +Clytie told the Widow to call again and they'd get him sure. So she came +back next day and laid down a dollar. That fetched old Buck Williams' +ghost On the jump, you bet, but he said he hadn't laid eyes on Bud yet. +They hauled the Sweet By and By with a drag net, but they couldn't get a +rap from him. Clytie trotted out George Washington, and Napoleon, and +Billy Patterson, and Ben Franklin, and Captain Kidd, just to show that +there was no deception, but they couldn't get a whisper even from Bud. + +I reckon Clytie had been stringing the old lady along, intending to +produce Bud's spook as a sort of red-fire, calcium-light, +grand-march-of-the-Amazons climax, but she didn't get a chance. For +right there the old lady got up with a mighty set expression around her +lips and marched out, muttering that it was just as she had thought all +along--Bud wasn't there. And when the neighbors dropped in that +afternoon to plan out a memorial service for her "lost lamb," she +chased them off the lot with a broom. Said that they had looked in the +river for him and that she had looked beyond the river for him, and that +they would just stand pat now and wait for him to make the next move. +Allowed that if she could once get her hands in "that lost lamb's" wool +there might be an opening for a funeral when she got through with him, +but there wouldn't be till then. Altogether, it looked as if there was a +heap of trouble coming to Bud if he had made any mistake and was still +alive. + +The Widow found her "lost lamb" hiding behind a rain-barrel when she +opened up the house next morning, and there was a mighty touching and +affecting scene. In fact, the Widow must have touched him at least a +hundred times and every time he was affected to tears, for she was using +a bed slat, which is a powerfully strong moral agent for making a boy +see the error of his ways. And it was a month after that before Bud +could go down Main Street without some man who had called him a noble +little fellow, or a bright, manly little chap, while he was drowned, +reaching out and fetching him a clip on the ear for having come back and +put the laugh on him. + +No one except the Widow ever really got at the straight of Bud's +conduct, but it appeared that he left home to get a few Indians scalps, +and that he came back for a little bacon and corn pone. + +I simply mention the Widow in passing as an example of the fact that the +time to do your worrying is when a thing is all over, and that the way +to do it is to leave it to the neighbors. I sail for home to-morrow. + +Your affectionate father, +JOHN GRAHAM. + + + + +FAREWELL + +_Provoked by Calverley's "Forever"_ + +By Bert Leston Taylor + + + "Farewell!" Another gloomy word + As ever into language crept. + 'Tis often written, never heard, + Except + + In playhouse. Ere the hero flits-- + In handcuffs--from our pitying view. + "Farewell!" he murmurs, then exits + R.U. + + "Farewell" is much too sighful for + An age that has not time to sigh. + We say, "I'll see you later," or + "Good-by!" + + When, warned by chanticleer, you go + From her to whom you owe devoir, + "Say not 'good-by,'" she laughs, "but + 'Au Revoir!'" + + Thus from the garden are you sped; + And Juliet were the first to tell + You, you were silly if you said + "Farewell!" + + "Farewell," meant long ago, before + It crept, tear-spattered, into song, + "Safe voyage!" "Pleasant journey!" or + "So long!" + + But gone its cheery, old-time ring; + The poets made it rhyme with knell-- + Joined it became a dismal thing-- + "Farewell!" + + "Farewell!" into the lover's soul + You see Fate plunge the fatal iron. + All poets use it. It's the whole + Of Byron. + + "I only feel--farewell!" said he; + And always fearful was the telling-- + Lord Byron was eternally + Farewelling. + + "Farewell!" A dismal word, 'tis true + (And why not tell the truth about it!); + But what on earth would poets do + Without it? + + + + +MY RUTHERS + +BY JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY + +[Writ durin' State Fair at Indanoplis, whilse visitin' a Soninlaw then +residin' thare, who has sence got back to the country whare he says a +man that's raised thare ot to a-stayed in the first place.] + + + I tell you what I'd ruther do-- + Ef I only had my ruthers,-- + I'd ruther work when I wanted to + Than be bossed round by others;-- + I'd ruther kindo' git the swing + O' what was _needed_, first, I jing! + Afore I _swet_ at anything!-- + Ef I only had my ruthers;-- + In fact I'd aim to be the same + With all men as my brothers; + And they'd all be the same with _me_-- + Ef I only had my ruthers. + + I wouldn't likely know it all-- + Ef I only had my ruthers;-- + I'd know _some_ sense, and some base-ball-- + Some _old_ jokes, and--some others: + I'd know _some politics_, and 'low + Some tarif-speeches same as now, + Then go hear Nye on "Branes and How + To Detect Theyr Presence." _T'others_, + That stayed away, I'd _let_ 'em stay-- + All my dissentin' brothers + Could chuse as shore a kill er cuore, + Ef I only had my ruthers. + + The pore 'ud git theyr dues _some_times-- + Ef I only had my ruthers,-- + And be paid _dollars_ 'stid o' _dimes_, + Fer children, wives and mothers: + Theyr boy that slaves; theyr girl that sews-- + Fer _others_--not herself, God knows!-- + The grave's _her_ only change of clothes! + ... Ef I only had my ruthers, + They'd all have "stuff" and time enugh + To answer one-another's + Appealin' prayer fer "lovin' care"-- + Ef I only had my ruthers. + + They'd be few folks 'ud ast fer trust, + Ef I only had my ruthers, + And blame few business-men to bu'st + Theyrselves, er harts of others: + Big Guns that come here durin' Fair- + Week could put up jest anywhare, + And find a full-and-plenty thare, + Ef I only had my ruthers: + The rich and great 'ud 'sociate + With all theyr lowly brothers, + Feelin' _we_ done the honorun-- + Ef I only had my ruthers. + + + + +THE DUTIFUL MARINER[4] + +BY WALLACE IRWIN + + + 'Twas off the Eastern Filigrees-- + Wizzle the pipes o'ertop!-- + When the gallant Captain of the Cheese + Began to skip and hop. + + "Oh stately man and old beside, + Why dost gymnastics do? + Is such example dignified + To set before your crew?" + + "Oh hang me crew," the Captain cried, + "And scuttle of me ship. + If I'm the skipper, blarst me hide! + Ain't I supposed to skip? + + "I'm growing old," the Captain said; + "Me dancing days are done; + But while I'm skipper of this ship + I'll skip with any one. + + "I'm growing grey," I heard him say, + "And I can not rest or sleep + While under me the troubled sea + Lies forty spasms deep. + + "Lies forty spasms deep," he said; + "But still me trusty sloop + Each hour, I wot, goes many a knot + And many a bow and loop. + + "The hours are full of knots," he said, + "Untie them if ye can. + In vain I've tried, for Time and Tied + Wait not for any man. + + "Me fate is hard," the old man sobbed, + "And I am sick and sore. + Me aged limbs of rest are robbed + And skipping is a bore. + + "But Duty is the seaman's boast, + And on this gallant ship + You'll find the skipper at his post + As long as he can skip." + + And so the Captain of the Cheese + Skipped on again as one + Who lofty satisfaction sees + In duty bravely done. + +[Footnote 4: From "Nautical Lays of a Landsman," by Wallace Irwin. +Copyright, 1904, by Dodd, Mead & Co.] + + + + +MELINDA'S HUMOROUS STORY + +BY MAY McHENRY + + +Melinda was dejected. She told herself that she was groping in the vale +of despair, that life was a vast, gray, echoing void. She decided that +ambition was dead--a case of starvation; that friendship had slipped +through too eagerly grasping fingers; that love--ah, _love_!-- + +"You'd better take a dose of blue-mass," her aunt suggested when she had +sighed seven times dolefully at the tea table. + +"Not _blue_-mass. Any other kind of mass you please, but _not_ blue," +Melinda shuddered absently. + +No; she was not physically ill; the trouble was deeper--soul sickness, +acute, threatening to become chronic, that defied allopathic doses of +favorite and other philosophers, that would not yield even to hourly +repetition of the formula handed down from her grandmother--"If you can +not have what you want, try to want what you have." Yet she could lay +her finger on no bleeding heart-wound, on no definite cause. It was true +that the deeply analytical, painstakingly interesting historical novel +on which she had worked all winter had been sent back from the +publishers with a briefly polite note of thanks and regrets; but as she +had never expected anything else, that could not depress her. Also, the +slump in G.C. Copper stock had forced her to give up her long-planned +southern trip and even to forego the consolatory purchase of a spring +gown; but she had a mind that could soar above flesh-pot +disappointments. Then, the Reverend John Graham;--but what John Graham +did or said was nothing--absolutely nothing, to her. + +So Melinda clenched her hands and moaned in the same key with the east +wind and told the four walls of her room that she could not endure it; +she must _do_ something. Then it was, that in a flash of inspiration, it +came to her--she would write a humorous story. + +The artistic fitness of the idea pleased her. She had always understood +that humorists were marked by a deep-dyed melancholy, that the height of +unhappiness was a vantage-ground from which to view the joke of +existence. She would test the dictum; now, if ever, she would write +humorously. The material was at hand, seething and crowding in her mind, +in fact--the monumental dullness and complacent narrowness of the +villagers, the egoism, the conceit, the bland shepherd-of-his-flock +pomposity of John Graham. What more could a humorist desire? Yes; she +would write. + +Thoughts came quick and fast; words flowed in a fiery stream like lava +that glows and rushes and curls and leaps down the mountain, sweeping +all obstacles aside. (The figure did not wholly please Melinda, for +everybody knows how dull and gray and uninteresting lava is when it +cools, but she had no time to bother with another.) She felt the +exultation, the joy and uplifting of spirit that is the reward--usually, +alas, the sole reward--of the writer in the work of creation. + +Then before the lava had time to cool she sent the story to the first +magazine on her list with a name beginning with "A." It was her custom +to send them that way, though sometimes with a desire to be impartial +she commenced at "Z" and went up the list. + +At the end of two weeks the wind had ceased blowing from the east. +Melinda decided that though life for her must be gray, echoing, void, +yet would she make an effort for the joy of others. She would lift +herself above the depression that enfolded her even as the buoyant +hyacinths were cleaving their dark husks and lifting up the beauty and +fragrance of their hearts to solace passers-by. Therefore she ceased +parting her hair in the middle and ordered a simple little frock from +D----'s--hyacinth blue _voile_ with a lining that should whisper and +rustle like the glad winds whisking away last year's leaves. + +Then the day came when she strolled carelessly and unexpectantly down +the village street to the post-office and there received a letter that +bore on the upper left-hand corner of the envelope the name of the +magazine first on her list beginning with "A." A chill passed along +Melinda's spine. That humorous story--Could this mean?--It was too +horrible to contemplate. + +She took a short cut through the orchard and as she walked she tore off +a corner and peeped into the envelope. Yes, there was a pale-blue slip +of paper with serrated edges. She leaned against a Baldwin apple-tree to +think. + +How true it is that one should be prepared for the unexpected. Melinda +had sent out many manuscripts freighted with tingling hopes and eager +aspirations and with the postage stamps that insured their prompt +return; how was she to know, by what process of reasoning could she +infer that this, that had been offered simply from force of habit, would +be retained in exchange for an æsthetically tinted check? She +anathematized the magazine editor. (That seems the proper thing to do +with editors.) She wanted to know what business he had to keep that +story after having led her to believe that it was his unbreakable custom +to send them back. It was deception, she told the swelling Baldwin buds, +base, deep-dyed, subtle deception. After baiting her on with his little, +pink, printed rejection slips, he suddenly sprung a wicked trap. + +It was some time before Melinda grew calm enough to read the editorial +letter. It ran: + + _"Dear Madam--We are glad to have your tender and delicately + sympathetic picture of village life. There is a note of true + sentiment and a generous appreciation of homely virtue marking this + story for which we desire to add an especial word of praise. Check + enclosed._ + + _"Very truly yours, + "The Editor of A----."_ + +Melinda sank limply on the bleached, last year's grass at the foot of +the tree. "Tender and delicately sympathetic picture"--"Generous +appreciation!" She laughed feebly. The editor was pleased to be +facetious. Having a fine sense of humor himself he showed his +realization of the story by acknowledging it in the same vein of subtle +satire. + +She reread the letter and unfolded the slip of paper with serrated +edges with changing emotions. After all it was not such a very bad +story. She permitted herself to recall how humorous it was, how +cleverly and keenly it laid bare the ridiculous, the unexpected, how +it scintillated with wit and abounded in droll and subtle distinctions +and descriptions--all--all at the expense of her nearest relatives and +her dearest friends. + +Melinda thought she would return the check and demand that her story be +sent back to her or destroyed; but, reflecting that Punch's advice is +applicable to other things than matrimony and suicide, she didn't. She +resolutely put her literary Frankenstein behind her. She reasoned that +in all probability the story would not be published during the lifetime +of any of the originals of the characters; that even if the worst came +to the worst, Mossdale was likely to remain in ignorance that would be +blissful. The villagers were not wont to waste time on the printed word; +in fact, such was the profundity of their unenlightenment, few of them +had heard of the magazine with a name beginning with "A." Even John +Graham paid little attention to the secular periodicals; besides, if +absolutely necessary, John's attention might be diverted. + +So Melinda went away on a visit. Her health demanded it. The doctor was +unable to name her malady, but she herself diagnosed it as +_magazinitis_. + +Toward fall Melinda, entirely recovered, returned to Mossdale. Entirely +recovered, yet she turned cold, unseeing eyes on the newsboy when he +passed through the car with his towering load of varicolored +periodicals, and rather than be forced to the final resort of the +unaccompanied traveler, she welcomed the advent of an acquaintance +possessed of volubility of an ejaculatory, eruptive variety. After many +gentle jets and spurts of gossip much remained to be told, as the lady +hastily gathered up her impedimenta preparatory to alighting at her home +station. + +"How like me in the joy of seeing you, to forget! What a sweet, clever +story! And to think of _you_ having something published in 'A----'! I +never was more surprised than when Mr. Ferguson brought home the +magazine. Those delicious Mossdale people! I could not endure that the +dear things should not see and know at once. The lovely hamlet is so--so +remote, and I knew you were traveling. What a pleasure to send them half +a dozen copies that very evening!--Yes, porter, that, too--_Do_ run down +to see me soon, dear--Now _do_. _Good_-by!" + +Melinda summoned the newsboy and bought the latest number of the +magazine with a name beginning with "A." She turned to the list of +"Contents" with feverish anxiety, then the book slid from her nerveless +fingers. Her humorous story had been given to an eager public. She +leaned back and gazed out at the flying telegraph poles and fields. Even +the worthiest, the gravest, the finest, she reflected, has a face, that +if seen in a certain light, will flash out the ignus fatuus of the +ridiculous; but it is not usually considered the office of friendship to +turn on the betraying light. Oh, well, her relatives would forgive in +time. Relatives _have_ to forgive. It was unfortunate that John Graham +was not a relative. "One thing, I know now how much Mrs. Ferguson cares +because I got those six votes ahead of her for the Thursday Club +presidency--Half a dozen copies!" Melinda said aloud as she caught +sight of the spire of the Mossdale Church. + +Her Uncle Joe met her at the station and kissed her for the first time +since she had put on long dresses. Notwithstanding a foolish prejudice +against tobacco juice Melinda received the salute in a meek and contrite +spirit. + +"Notice how many citizens were hanging around underfoot on the depot +platform--so as you kinder had to stop and shake hands to get 'em out o' +the way?" Uncle Joe queried as he turned the colts' heads toward home. + +Melinda had noticed. "I suppose they came out to see the train come in," +she suggested. + +"Nope; not exactly." Uncle Joe explained, "Looking out for automo_biles_ +and flying airships have made trains of cars seem mighty common up this +way. Nope; the folks was out on account of you a-comin'." + +"Me?" Having a guilty conscience Melinda glanced backward apprehensively +and made a motion as though to dodge a missile. + +"Yep; and you'll find a lot of the relations at the house a-waitin' for +you." + +"Why--what--? Now look here, Uncle Joe, there is no occasion to be +foolish about a little--" + +"Foolish? Now, mebby some would call it foolish, but us folks up the +creek here we can't help feelin' set up some over findin' out we have a +second Milton or a Mrs. Stowe in the fambly." + +Melinda looked at her relative's concave profile in sick suspicion. Was +the trail of the serpent over them all? But no, Uncle Joe was beaming +mildly with the satisfaction of having shown that although the literary +hemisphere was the unknown land, he had heard of a mountain and a minor +elevation or two; he was, as she had always believed, incapable of +satire. + +For once Melinda was speechless. But Uncle Joe was likely to be fluent +when he got started. He cleared his throat and turned mild, suffused, +half-shamed blue eyes on his shrinking niece. "Yes, your piece has come +out in the paper, Melinda, and your folks are all-fired pleased with +you. I told Lucy this morning I wisht your poor Pap could come back to +earth for just this one day." + +"Ah-h!" Melinda took a firm grip on the side of the buggy. "But I guess +you'll have to write another right off. There is some jealousy amongst +them that aren't in it," Uncle Joe went on. "I told 'em you couldn't put +the whole connection in or it would read like a list of 'them present' +at a surprise party. Your Aunt Lucy, she's just as tickled as a hen with +three chickens." The old man chuckled. "There it is all down in black +and white just like it happened, only different, about her spasm of +economy when she was cleanin' away Mary Emmeline's medicine bottles and +couldn't bear to throw away what was left over, but up and took it all +herself in one powerful mixed dose to save it, and had to have the +doctor with a stomach-pump to cure her of spasms, what wasn't so +economical after all. It's her picture tickles her most." + +"Oh!" said Melinda. + +"Yes, you know the picture is as slim as a girl in her first pair o' +cossets a-standin' on a chair a-reachin' bottles off a top shelf, and +your Aunt Lucy's that hefty she hain't stood on a chair for ten years +for fear 'twould break down, and she's had to trust the top shelf to +the hired girl. I guess when she goes to Heaven she'll want to stop on +the way up and fix that top shelf to suit her. So she just sits and +looks at that picture and smiles and smiles. She likes my whiskers, too. +Yes, she's always wanted me to wear whiskers ever since we was married, +but we never was a whiskery fambly and they wouldn't seem to grow +thicker than your Uncle Josh's corn when he planted it one grain to the +hill. But there I am in the picture in the paper with real biblical +whiskers reachin' to the bottom o' my vest." + +Uncle Joe cleared his throat and glanced sideways at his niece again. "I +want to tell you, Melindy, that I am real obleeged to you for makin' me +one of the main ones in the piece with a lot to say. Your Aunt Lucy says +'twas only right and proper, me bein' your nighest kin and you livin' +with us; but I told her there was so many others that was smarter and +more the story-paper kind, that I thought it showed real good feelin' on +your part; yes, I did.--_G'up, there, Ginger!_--Then I kind o' thought +I'd warn you, too, Melindy, that they all are just a-dyin' to hear you +say who 'The Preacher' is. He's the only one we couldn't quite place." + +Melinda took the little bottle of smelling salts from her bag and held +it to her nose. + +"Yes," Uncle Joe went on, "the others was easy identified because you +had named the names; but him you just called 'The Preacher' all the way +through. Some says it's the Reverend Graham kind of toned down and +trimmed up like things you see in the moonlight on a summer night. But I +told them the Reverend Graham is a nice enough chap, but that that +extra-fine, way-up preacher fellow in the story must be some stranger +you knew from off and didn't give his name, because you didn't rightly +know what it was. I thought, even if you was so soft on Reverend Graham +as to see him in that illusory, moony light, that about the stranger +from off was the right and proper thing for me, being your uncle, to say +any way. So if you want to keep it dark about 'The Preacher' you can +just talk about a stranger from off." + +"I will, Uncle Joe--_dear_ Uncle Joe." Melinda exclaimed gratefully as +they stopped in front of the gate. + +Melinda greeted her relatives with a warmth and enthusiasm that +embarrassed and made them suspicious. She was not usually so complacent, +so solicitous for the health and progress of offspring; above all she +was not usually so loth to talk about herself. She acted as though she +had never written a story, yet three copies of it were spread open under +her nose--one on the piano, one on the parlor table, one on the +sideboard--all open at the passage about "The Preacher." + +The relatives retired in disgust. With the departure of the last one +Melinda seized a magazine and fled to the orchard. She would read that +story herself. As she turned the leaves she caught sight of a manly form +carefully climbing the fence. She dropped the periodical and stood on +it, gazing up pensively into the well-laden boughs of the Baldwin. + +The Reverend Graham took her hands in a strong ministerial squeeze. + +"It is very good of you to come to see me so soon after my return," she +faltered. + +"Good--Melinda! Do you think I could help coming?" he ejaculated. "I can +not tell you--words are inadequate to express what I feel," he went +on,--"the deep gratitude, the humility, the wonder, the triumph, the +determination, with God's aid, to live up to the high ideal you have set +forth in your wonderful story. You have seen the latent qualities, the +nobler potentialities; you have shown me to myself. _Melinda!_ Do not +think that I do not appreciate the difficulties of this hour for you. I +know how your heart is shrinking, how your delicate maidenly modesty is +up in arms. But Melinda, you know! you know! _Dear Melinda!_" + +"I am glad you understand me, John." + +"Understand you!" The Reverend Graham could restrain himself no longer. +He swept her into his arms, appropriating his own. + +Melinda remained there quiescently leaning against his shoulder, because +there seemed nothing else to do, also because it was a broad and +comfortable shoulder against which to lean. "I am done for," she +reflected. "Now I will never dare to confess that I was trying to be +humorous." + +Then she reached up a hand and touched the Preacher's face timidly. His +cheek was wet. "Why, John--_John!_" she whispered. + + + + +ABOU BEN BUTLER + +BY JOHN PAUL + + + Abou, Ben Butler (may his tribe be less!) + Awoke one night from a deep bottledness, + And saw, by the rich radiance of the moon, + Which shone and shimmered like a silver spoon, + A stranger writing on a golden slate + (Exceeding store had Ben of spoons and plate), + And to the stranger in his tent he said: + "Your little game?" The stranger turned his head, + And, with a look made all of innocence, + Replied: "I write the name of Presidents." + "And is mine one?" "Not if this court doth know + Itself," replied the stranger. Ben said, "Oh!" + And "Ah!" but spoke again: "Just name your price + To write me up as one that may be Vice." + + The stranger up and vanished. The next night + He came again, and showed a wondrous sight + Of names that haply yet might fill the chair-- + But, lo! the name of Butler was not there! + + + + +LATTER-DAY WARNINGS + +BY OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES + + + When legislators keep the law, + When banks dispense with bolts and locks,-- + When berries--whortle, rasp, and straw-- + Grow bigger _downwards_ through the box,-- + + When he that selleth house or land + Shows leak in roof or flaw in right,-- + When haberdashers choose the stand + Whose window hath the broadest light,-- + + When preachers tell us all they think, + And party leaders all they mean,-- + When what we pay for, that we drink, + From real grape and coffee-bean,-- + + When lawyers take what they would give, + And doctors give what they would take,-- + When city fathers eat to live, + Save when they fast for conscience' sake,-- + + When one that hath a horse on sale + Shall bring his merit to the proof, + Without a lie for every nail + That holds the iron on the hoof,-- + + When in the usual place for rips + Our gloves are stitched with special care, + And guarded well the whalebone tips + Where first umbrellas need repair,-- + + When Cuba's weeds have quite forgot + The power of suction to resist, + And claret-bottles harbor not + Such dimples as would hold your fist,-- + + When publishers no longer steal, + And pay for what they stole before,-- + When the first locomotive's wheel + Rolls through the Hoosac tunnel's bore;-- + + _Till_ then let Cumming blaze away, + And Miller's saints blow up the globe; + But when you see that blessed day, + _Then_ order your ascension robe! + + + + +IT PAYS TO BE HAPPY[5] + +BY TOM MASSON + + + She is so gay, so very gay, + And not by fits and starts, + But ever, through each livelong day + She's sunshine to all hearts. + + A tonic is her merry laugh! + So wondrous is her power + That listening grief would stop and chaff + With her from hour to hour. + + Disease before that cheery smile + Grows dim, begins to fade. + A Christian scientist, meanwhile, + Is this delightful maid. + + And who would not throw off dull care + And be like unto her, + When happiness brings, as her share, + One hundred dollars per ----? + +[Footnote 5: Lippincott's Magazine.] + + + + +THE MOSQUITO + +BY WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT + + + Fair insect! that, with thread-like legs spread out, + And blood-extracting bill, and filmy wing, + Dost murmur, as thou slowly sail'st about, + In pitiless ears, fall many a plaintive thing, + And tell how little our large veins should bleed + Would we but yield them to thy bitter need. + + Unwillingly, I own, and, what is worse, + Full angrily, men listen to thy plaint; + Thou gettest many a brush and many a curse, + For saying thou art gaunt, and starved, and faint. + Even the old beggar, while he asks for food, + + Would kill thee, hapless stranger, if he could. + I call thee stranger, for the town, I ween, + Has not the honor of so proud a birth: + Thou com'st from Jersey meadows, fresh and green, + The offspring of the gods, though born on earth; + For Titan was thy sire, and fair was she, + The ocean-nymph that nursed thy infancy. + + Beneath the rushes was they cradle swung, + And when at length thy gauzy wings grew strong, + Abroad to gentle airs their folds were flung, + Rose in the sky and bore thee soft along; + The south wind breathed to waft thee on thy way, + And danced and shone beneath the billowy bay. + + Calm rose afar the city spires, and thence + Came the deep murmur of its throng of men, + And as its grateful odors met thy sense, + They seemed the perfumes of thy native fen. + Fair lay its crowded streets, and at the sight + Thy tiny song grew shriller with delight. + + At length thy pinion fluttered in Broadway,-- + Ah, there were fairy steps, and white necks kissed + By wanton airs, and eyes whose killing ray + Shone through the snowy veils like stars through mist; + And fresh as morn, on many a cheek and chin, + Bloomed the bright blood through the transparent skin. + + Sure these were sights to tempt an anchorite! + What! do I hear thy slender voice complain? + Thou wailest when I talk of beauty's light, + As if it brought the memory of pain. + Thou art a wayward being--well, come near, + And pour thy tale of sorrow in mine ear. + + What say'st thou, slanderer! rouge makes thee sick? + And China Bloom at best is sorry food? + And Rowland's Kalydor, if laid on thick, + Poisons the thirsty wretch that bores for blood? + Go! 'twas a just reward that met thy crime; + But shun the sacrilege another time. + + That bloom was made to look at,--not to touch; + To worship, not approach, that radiant white; + And well might sudden vengeance light on such + As dared, like thee, most impiously to bite. + Thou shouldst have gazed at distance, and admired,-- + Murmured thy admiration and retired. + + Thou'rt welcome to the town; but why come here + To bleed a brother poet, gaunt like thee? + Alas! the little blood I have is dear, + And thin will be the banquet drawn from me. + Look round: the pale-eyed sisters in my cell, + Thy old acquaintance, Song and Famine, dwell. + + Try some plump alderman, and suck the blood + Enriched by generous wine and costly meat; + On well-filled skins, sleek as thy native mud, + Fix thy light pump, and press thy freckled feet. + Go to the men for whom, in ocean's halls, + The oyster breeds and the green turtle sprawls. + + There corks are drawn, and the red vintage flows, + To fill the swelling veins for thee, and now + The ruddy cheek and now the ruddier nose + Shall tempt thee, as thou flittest round the brow; + And when the hour of sleep its quiet brings, + No angry hand shall rise to brush thy wings. + + + + +"TIDDLE-IDDLE-IDDLE-IDDLE-BUM! BUM!" + +BY WILBUR D. NESBIT + + + When our town band gets on the square + On concert night you'll find me there. + I'm right beside Elijah Plumb, + Who plays th' cymbals an' bass drum; + An' next to him is Henry Dunn, + Who taps the little tenor one. + I like to hear our town band play, + But, best it does, I want to say, + Is when they tell a tune's to come + With + "Tiddle-iddle-iddle-iddle- + Bum-Bum!" + + O' course, there's some that likes the tunes + Like _Lily Dale_ an' _Ragtime Coons_; + Some likes a solo or duet + By Charley Green--B-flat cornet-- + An' Ernest Brown--th' trombone man. + (An' they can play, er no one can); + But it's the best when Henry Dunn + Lets them there sticks just cut an' run, + An' 'Lijah says to let her hum + With + "Tiddle-iddle-iddle-iddle- + Bum-Bum!" + + I don't know why, ner what's the use + O' havin' that to interduce + A tune--but I know, as fer me + I'd ten times over ruther see + Elijah Plumb chaw with his chin, + A-gettin' ready to begin, + While Henry plays that roll o' his + An' makes them drumsticks fairly sizz, + Announcin' music, on th' drum, + With + "Tiddle-iddle-iddle-iddle- + Bum-Bum!" + + + + +MY FIRST CIGAR + +BY ROBERT J. BURDETTE + + + 'Twas just behind the woodshed, + One glorious summer day, + Far o'er the hills the sinking sun + Pursued his westward way; + And in my safe seclusion + Removed from all the jar + And din of earth's confusion + I smoked my first cigar. + + It was my first cigar! + It was the worst cigar! + Raw, green and dank, hide-bound and rank + It was my first cigar! + + Ah, bright the boyish fancies + Wrapped in the smoke-wreaths blue; + My eyes grew dim, my head was light, + The woodshed round me flew! + Dark night closed in around me-- + Black night, without a star-- + Grim death methought had found me + And spoiled my first cigar. + + It was my first cigar! + A six-for-five cigar! + No viler torch the air could scorch-- + It was my first cigar! + + All pallid was my beaded brow, + The reeling night was late, + My startled mother cried in fear, + "My child, what have you ate?" + I heard my father's smothered laugh, + It seemed so strange and far, + I knew he knew I knew he knew + I'd smoked my first cigar! + + It was my first cigar! + A give-away cigar! + I could not die--I knew not why-- + It was my first cigar! + + Since then I've stood in reckless ways, + I've dared what men can dare, + I've mocked at danger, walked with death, + I've laughed at pain and care. + I do not dread what may befall + 'Neath my malignant star, + No frowning fate again can make + Me smoke my first cigar. + + I've smoked my first cigar! + My first and worst cigar! + Fate has no terrors for the man + Who's smoked his first cigar! + + + + +A BULLY BOAT AND A BRAG CAPTAIN + +_A Story of Steamboat Life on the Mississippi_ + +BY SOL SMITH + + +Does any one remember the _Caravan_? She was what would now be +considered a slow boat--_then_ (1827) she was regularly advertised as +the "fast running," etc. Her regular trips from New Orleans to Natchez +were usually made in from six to eight days; a trip made by her in five +days was considered remarkable. A voyage from New Orleans to Vicksburg +and back, including stoppages, generally entitled the officers and crew +to a month's wages. Whether the _Caravan_ ever achieved the feat of a +voyage to the Falls (Louisville) I have never learned; if she did, she +must have "had a _time_ of it!" + +It was my fate to take passage in this boat. The Captain was a +good-natured, easy-going man, careful of the comfort of his passengers, +and exceedingly fond of the _game of brag_. We had been out a little +more than five days, and we were in hopes of seeing the bluffs of +Natchez on the next day. Our wood was getting low, and night coming on. +The pilot on duty _above_ (the other pilot held three aces at the time, +and was just calling out the Captain, who "went it strong" on three +kings) sent down word that the mate had reported the stock of wood +reduced to half a cord. The worthy Captain excused himself to the pilot +whose watch was _below_ and the two passengers who made up the party, +and hurried to the deck, where he soon discovered by the landmarks that +we were about half a mile from a woodyard, which he said was situated +"right round yonder point." "But," muttered the Captain, "I don't much +like to take wood of the yellow-faced old scoundrel who owns it--he +always charges a quarter of a dollar more than any one else; however, +there's no other chance." The boat was pushed to her utmost, and in a +little less than an hour, when our fuel was about giving out, we made +the point, and our cables were out and fastened to trees alongside of a +good-sized wood pile. + +"Hallo, Colonel! How d'ye sell your wood _this_ time?" + +A yellow-faced old gentleman, with a two-weeks' beard, strings over his +shoulders holding up to his armpits a pair of copperas-colored +linsey-woolsey pants, the legs of which reached a very little below the +knee; shoes without stockings; a faded, broad-brimmed hat, which had +once been black, and a pipe in his mouth--casting a glance at the empty +guards of our boat and uttering a grunt as he rose from fastening our +"spring line," answered: + +"Why, Capting, we must charge you _three and a quarter_ THIS _time_." + +"The d--l!" replied the Captain--(captains did swear a little in those +days); "what's the odd _quarter_ for, I should like to know? You only +charged me _three_ as I went down." + +"Why, Captaing," drawled out the wood merchant, with a sort of leer on +his yellow countenance, which clearly indicated that his wood was as +good as sold, "wood's riz since you went down two weeks ago; besides, +you are awar that you very seldom stop going _down_--when you're going +_up_ you're sometimes obleeged to give me a call, becaze the current's +aginst you, and there's no other woodyard for nine miles ahead; and if +you happen to be nearly out of fooel, why--" + +"Well, well," interrupted the Captain, "we'll take a few cords, under +the circumstances," and he returned to his game of brag. + +In about half an hour we felt the _Caravan_ commence paddling again. +Supper was over, and I retired to my upper berth, situated alongside and +overlooking the brag-table, where the Captain was deeply engaged, having +now the _other_ pilot as his principal opponent. We jogged on +quietly--and seemed to be going at a good rate. + +"How does that wood burn?" inquired the Captain of the mate, who was +looking on at the game. + +"'Tisn't of much account, I reckon," answered the mate; "it's +cottonwood, and most of it green at that." + +"Well Thompson--(Three aces again, stranger--I'll take that X and the +small change, if you please. It's your deal)--Thompson, I say, we'd +better take three or four cords at the next woodyard--it can't be more +than six miles from here--(Two aces and a bragger, with the age! Hand +over those V's)." + +The game went on, and the paddles kept moving. At eleven o'clock it was +reported to the Captain that we were nearing the woodyard, the light +being distinctly seen by the pilot on duty. + +"Head her in shore, then, and take in six cords if it's good--see to +it, Thompson; I can't very well leave the game now--it's getting right +warm! This pilot's beating us all to smash." + +The wooding completed, we paddled on again. The Captain seemed somewhat +vexed when the mate informed him that the price was the same as at the +last woodyard--_three and a quarter_; but soon again became interested +in the game. + +From my upper berth (there were no state-rooms _then_) I could observe +the movements of the players. All the contention appeared to be between +the Captain and the pilots (the latter personages took it turn and turn +about, steering and playing brag), _one_ of them almost invariably +winning, while the two passengers merely went through the ceremony of +dealing, cutting, and paying up their "anties." They were anxious to +_learn the game_--and they _did_ learn it! Once in a while, indeed, +seeing they had two aces and a bragger, they would venture a bet of five +or ten dollars, but they were always compelled to back out before the +tremendous bragging of the Captain or pilot--or if they did venture to +"call out" on "two bullits and a bragger," they had the mortification to +find one of the officers had the same kind of a hand, and were _more +venerable_! Still, with all these disadvantages, they continued +playing--they wanted to learn the game. + +At two o'clock the Captain asked the mate how we were getting on. + +"Oh, pretty glibly, sir," replied the mate; "we can scarcely tell what +headway we _are_ making, for we are obliged to keep the middle of the +river, and there is the shadow of a fog rising. This wood seems rather +better than that we took in at Yellow-Face's, but we're nearly out +again, and must be looking out for more. I saw a light just ahead on +the right--shall we hail?" + +"Yes, yes," replied the Captain; "ring the bell and ask 'em what's the +price of wood up here, (I've got you again; here's double kings.)" + +I heard the bell and the pilot's hail, "What's' _your_ price for wood?" + +A youthful voice on the shore answered, "Three _and_ a quarter!" + +"D--nèt!" ejaculated the Captain, who had just lost the price of two +cords to the pilot--the strangers suffering _some_ at the same +time--"three and a quarter again! Are we _never_ to get to a cheaper +country? (Deal, sir, if you please; better luck next time.)" + +The other pilot's voice was again heard on deck: + +"How much _have_ you?" + +"Only about ten cords, sir," was the reply of the youthful salesman. + +The Captain here told Thompson to take six cords, which would last till +daylight--and again turned his attention to the game. + +The pilots here changed places. _When did they sleep?_ + +Wood taken in, the _Caravan_ again took her place in the middle of the +stream, paddling on as usual. + +Day at length dawned. The brag-party broke up and settlements were being +made, during which operation the Captain's bragging propensities were +exercised in cracking up the speed of his boat, which, by his reckoning, +must have made at least sixty miles, and _would_ have made many more if +he could have procured good wood. It appears the two passengers, in +their first lesson, had incidentally lost one hundred and twenty +dollars. The Captain, as he rose to see about taking in some _good_ +wood, which he felt sure of obtaining now that he had got above the +level country, winked at his opponent, the pilot, with whom he had been +on very bad terms during the progress of the game, and said, in an +undertone, "Forty apiece for you and I and James (the other pilot) is +not bad for one night." + +I had risen and went out with the Captain, to enjoy a view of the +bluffs. There was just fog enough to prevent the vision taking in more +than sixty yards--so I was disappointed in _my_ expectation. We were +nearing the shore, for the purpose of looking for wood, the banks being +invisible from the middle of the river. + +"There it is!" exclaimed the Captain; "stop her!" Ding--ding--ding! went +the big bell, and the Captain hailed: + +"Hallo! the woodyard!" + +"Hallo yourself!" answered a squeaking female voice, which came from a +woman with a petticoat over her shoulders in place of a shawl. + +"What's the price of wood?" + +"I think you ought to know the price by this time," answered the old +lady in the petticoat; "it's three and a qua-a-rter! and now you know +it." + +"Three and the d--l!" broke in the Captain. "What, have you raised on +_your_ wood, too? I'll give you _three_, and not a cent more." + +"Well," replied the petticoat, "here comes the old man--_he'll_ talk to +you." + +And, sure enough, out crept from the cottage the veritable faded hat, +copperas-colored pants, yellow countenance and two weeks' beard we had +seen the night before, and the same voice we had heard regulating the +price of cottonwood squeaked out the following sentence, accompanied by +the same leer of the same yellow countenance: + +"Why, darn it all, Capting, there is but three or four cords left, and +_since it's you_, I don't care if I _do_ let you have it for +_three_--_as you're a good customer_!" + +After a quick glance at the landmarks around, the Captain bolted, and +turned in to take some rest. + +The fact became apparent--the reader will probably have discovered it +some time since--that _we had been wooding all night at the same +woodyard_! + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Wit and Humor of America, Volume +V. 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Wilder + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + } /* page numbers */ + + .linenum {position: absolute; top: auto; left: 4%;} /* poetry number */ + .blockquot{margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%;} + .sidenote {width: 20%; padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em; margin-left: 1em; + float: right; clear: right; margin-top: 1em; + font-size: smaller; color: black; background: #eeeeee; border: dashed 1px;} + + .bb {border-bottom: solid 2px;} + .bl {border-left: solid 2px;} + .bt {border-top: solid 2px;} + .br {border-right: solid 2px;} + .bbox {border: solid 2px; margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%;} + .boxtext {margin-left: 4%; margin-right: 4%;} + + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + .u {text-decoration: underline;} + + .caption {font-weight: bold;} + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + .figleft {float: left; clear: left; margin-left: 0; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: + 1em; margin-right: 1em; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .figright {float: right; clear: right; margin-left: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-top: 1em; margin-right: 0; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .footnotes {border: dashed 1px;} + .footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + .footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;} + .fnanchor {vertical-align: super; font-size: .8em; text-decoration: none;} + + .poem {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; text-align: left;} + .poem br {display: none;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem span.i0 {display: block; margin-left: 0em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i2 {display: block; margin-left: 2em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i4 {display: block; margin-left: 4em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i1 {display: block; margin-left: 1em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i10 {display: block; margin-left: 10em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i12 {display: block; margin-left: 12em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i13 {display: block; margin-left: 13em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i16 {display: block; margin-left: 16em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i32 {display: block; margin-left: 32em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i6 {display: block; margin-left: 6em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i8 {display: block; margin-left: 8em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Wit and Humor of America, Volume V. (of +X.), by Various + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Wit and Humor of America, Volume V. (of X.) + +Author: Various + +Editor: Marshall P. Wilder + +Release Date: September 18, 2006 [EBook #19323] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WIT AND HUMOR OF *** + + + + +Produced by Barbara Tozier, Bill Tozier, Suzanne Lybarger +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +</pre> + + + + +<div class="bbox"> +<div class="boxtext"> + +<h3>Transcriber's Note</h3> + +<p>Unlike the other volumes of <i>The Wit and Humor of +America</i> in Project Gutenberg, Volume V was not prepared from the +"Library Edition," and thus has discontinuous page numbers and will not +match the index in Volume X. In addition, a few pieces in Volume V are +duplicated in Volume VI, but all have been retained as printed in each +edition.</p> + +</div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p class="figcenter"><img src="./images/aldrich.jpg" +alt="THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH" +title="THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH" /></p> + +<p class="figcenter caption">THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH</p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h1>THE WIT AND HUMOR OF AMERICA</h1> + +<h2><i>Edited by</i> MARSHALL P. WILDER</h2> + +<h2>VOLUME V</h2> + + +<h4> +FUNK & WAGNALLS COMPANY<br /> +NEW YORK AND LONDON<br /> +<br /> +<span class="smcap">Copyright 1907, by BOBBS-MERRILL COMPANY</span><br /> +<span class="smcap">Copyright 1911, by THE THWING COMPANY</span><br /> +<br /> +<i>Printed in the United States of America</i><br /> +</h4> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + + + + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="Contents"> +<tr><td align='right' colspan='3'>PAGE</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Abou Ben Butler</td><td align='left'><i>John Paul</i></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_211">211</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>At Aunty's House</td><td align='left'><i>James Whitcomb Riley</i></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_70">70</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Bill's Courtship</td><td align='left'><i>Frank L. Stanton</i></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_42">42</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Bully Boat and a Brag Captain, A</td><td align='left'><i>Sol Smith</i></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_222">222</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Committee from Kelly's, A</td><td align='left'><i>J.V.Z. Belden</i></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_151">151</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Co-operative Housekeepers, The</td><td align='left'><i>Elliott Flower</i></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_149">149</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Drayman, The</td><td align='left'><i>Daniel O'Connell</i></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_40">40</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Dutiful Mariner, The</td><td align='left'><i>Wallace Irwin</i></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_198">198</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Especially Men</td><td align='left'><i>George Randolph Chester</i></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_160">160</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Farewell</td><td align='left'><i>Bert Leston Taylor</i></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_194">194</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Funny Little Fellow, The</td><td align='left'><i>James Whitcomb Riley</i></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_28">28</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Going Up and Coming Down</td><td align='left'><i>Mary F. Tucker</i></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_10">10</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Have You Seen the Lady?</td><td align='left'><i>John Philip Sousa</i></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_27">27</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Her "Angel" Father</td><td align='left'><i>Elliott Flower</i></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_159">159</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Itinerant Tinker, The</td><td align='left'><i>Charles Raymond Macauley</i></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_74">74</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>It Pays to be Happy</td><td align='left'><i>Tom Masson</i></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_214">214</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Latter-Day Warnings</td><td align='left'><i>Oliver Wendell Holmes</i></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_212">212</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Lectures on Astronomy</td><td align='left'><i>John Phoenix</i></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_54">54</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Letter from a Self-Made Merchant to His Son, A</td><td align='left'><i>George Horace Lorimer</i></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_186">186</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Marriage of Sir John Smith, The</td><td align='left'><i>Phœbe Cary</i></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_7">7</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Melinda's Humorous Story</td><td align='left'><i>May McHenry</i></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_200">200</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Miss Legion</td><td align='left'><i>Bert Leston Taylor</i></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_26">26</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Mosquito, The</td><td align='left'><i>William Cullen Bryant</i></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_215">215</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Mr. Dooley on Expert Testimony</td><td align='left'><i>Finley Peter Dunne</i></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_51">51</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Mr. Hare Tries to Get a Wife</td><td align='left'><i>Anne Virginia Culbertson</i></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_142">142</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Musical Review Extraordinary</td><td align='left'><i>John Phoenix</i></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_30">30</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>My First Cigar</td><td align='left'><i>Robert J. Burdette</i></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_220">220</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>My Ruthers</td><td align='left'><i>James Whitcomb Riley</i></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_197">197</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Night in a Rocking-Chair, A</td><td align='left'><i>Kate Field</i></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_124">124</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Old Grimes</td><td align='left'><i>Albert Gorton Greene</i></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_24">24</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Piano in Arkansas, A</td><td align='left'><i>Thomas Bangs Thorpe</i></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_112">112</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Quit Yo' Worryin'</td><td align='left'><i>Anne Virginia Culbertson</i></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_157">157</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Rollo Learning to Play</td><td align='left'><i>Robert J. Burdette</i></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_132">132</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Runaway Boy, The</td><td align='left'><i>James Whitcomb Riley</i></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_38">38</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Set of China, The</td><td align='left'><i>Elisa Leslie</i></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_12">12</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Simon Starts in the World</td><td align='left'><i>J.J. Hooper</i></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_96">96</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Spring Beauties, The</td><td align='left'><i>Helen Avery Cone</i></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_9">9</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Strike of One, The</td><td align='left'><i>Elliott Flower</i></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_84">84</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Suppressed Chapters</td><td align='left'><i>Carolyn Wells</i></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_22">22</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Tiddle-Iddle-Iddle-Iddle-Bum! Bum!</td><td align='left'><i>Wilbur D. Nesbit</i></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_218">218</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Whar Dem Sinful Apples Grow</td><td align='left'><i>Anne Virginia Culbertson</i></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_121">121</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Willy and the Lady</td><td align='left'><i>Gelett Burgess</i></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_72">72</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Woman Who Married an Owl, The</td><td align='left'><i>Anne Virginia Culbertson</i></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_44">44</a></td></tr> +</table></div> + +<h3>COMPLETE INDEX AT THE END OF VOLUME X.</h3> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span></p> +<h1>THE WIT AND HUMOR OF AMERICA</h1> + + + +<hr style="width: 45%;" /> +<h2>THE MARRIAGE OF SIR JOHN SMITH</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">By Phœbe Cary</span></h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Not a sigh was heard, nor a funeral tone,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As the man to his bridal we hurried;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Not a woman discharged her farewell groan,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">On the spot where the fellow was married.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">We married him just about eight at night,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Our faces paler turning,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By the struggling moonbeam's misty light,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the gas-lamp's steady burning.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">No useless watch-chain covered his vest,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor over-dressed we found him;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But he looked like a gentleman wearing his best,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With a few of his friends around him.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Few and short were the things we said,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And we spoke not a word of sorrow,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But we silently gazed on the man that was wed,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And we bitterly thought of the morrow.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">We thought, as we silently stood about,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With spite and anger dying,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">How the merest stranger had cut us out,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With only half our trying.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span><br /> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Lightly we'll talk of the fellow that's gone,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And oft for the past upbraid him;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But little he'll reck if we let him live on,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In the house where his wife conveyed him.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But our hearty task at length was done,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When the clock struck the hour for retiring;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And we heard the spiteful squib and pun<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The girls were sullenly firing.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Slowly and sadly we turned to go,—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">We had struggled, and we were human;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We shed not a tear, and we spoke not our woe,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But we left him alone with his woman.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span></div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>THE SPRING BEAUTIES</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">By Helen Avery Cone</span></h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The Puritan Spring Beauties stood freshly clad for church;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A thrush, white-breasted, o'er them sat singing on his perch.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Happy be! for fair are ye!" the gentle singer told them;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But presently a buff-coat Bee came booming up to scold them.<br /></span> +<span class="i6">"Vanity, oh, vanity!<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Young maids, beware of vanity!"<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Grumbled out the buff-coat Bee,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Half parson-like, half soldierly.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The sweet-faced maidens trembled, with pretty, pinky blushes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Convinced that it was wicked to listen to the thrushes;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And when that shady afternoon, I chanced that way to pass,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They hung their little bonnets down and looked into the grass.<br /></span> +<span class="i6">All because the buff-coat Bee<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Lectured them so solemnly—<br /></span> +<span class="i6">"Vanity, oh, vanity!<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Young maids, beware of vanity!"<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span></div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>GOING UP AND COMING DOWN</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">By Mary F. Tucker</span></h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">This is a simple song, 'tis true—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My songs are never over-nice,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And yet I'll try and scatter through<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A little pinch of good advice.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then listen, pompous friend, and learn<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To never boast of much renown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For fortune's wheel is on the turn,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And some go up and some come down.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I know a vast amount of stocks,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A vast amount of pride insures;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But Fate has picked so many locks<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I wouldn't like to warrant yours.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Remember, then, and never spurn<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The one whose hand is hard and brown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For he is likely to go up,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And you are likely to come down.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Another thing you will agree,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">(The truth may be as well confessed)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That "Codfish Aristocracy"<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Is but a scaly thing at best.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Madame in her robe of lace,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And Bridget in her faded gown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Both represent a goodly race,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">From father Adam handed down.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span><br /> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Life is uncertain—full of change;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Little we have that will endure;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And 't were a doctrine new and strange<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That places high are most secure;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And if the fickle goddess smile,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Yielding the scepter and the crown,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis only for a little while,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Then B. goes up and A. comes down.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">This world, for all of us, my friend<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Hath something more than pounds and pence;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then let me humbly recommend,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A little use of common sense.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thus lay all pride of place aside,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And have a care on whom you frown;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For fear you'll see him going up,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When you are only coming down.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span></div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>THE SET OF CHINA</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">By Eliza Leslie</span></h3> + + +<p>"Mr. Gummage," said Mrs. Atmore, as she entered a certain +drawing-school, at that time the most fashionable in Philadelphia, "I +have brought you a new pupil, my daughter, Miss Marianne Atmore. Have +you a vacancy?"</p> + +<p>"Why, I can't say that I have," replied Mr. Gummage; "I never have +vacancies."</p> + +<p>"I am very sorry to hear it," said Mrs. Atmore; and Miss Marianne, a +tall, handsome girl of fifteen, looked disappointed.</p> + +<p>"But perhaps I could strain a point, and find a place for her," resumed +Mr. Gummage, who knew very well that he never had the smallest idea of +limiting the number of his pupils, and that if twenty more were to +apply, he would take them every one, however full his school might be.</p> + +<p>"Do pray, Mr. Gummage," said Mrs. Atmore; "do try and make an exertion +to admit my daughter; I shall regard it as a particular favor."</p> + +<p>"Well, I believe she may come," replied Gummage: "I suppose I can take +her. Has she any turn for drawing?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know," answered Mrs. Atmore, "she has never tried."</p> + +<p>"Well, madam," said Mr. Gummage, "what do you wish your daughter to +learn? figures, flowers, or landscape?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! all three," replied Mrs. Atmore. "We<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span> have been furnishing our new +house, and I told Mr. Atmore that he need not get any pictures for the +front parlor, as I would much prefer having them all painted by +Marianne. She has been four quarters with Miss Julia, and has worked +Friendship and Innocence, which cost, altogether, upwards of a hundred +dollars. Do you know the piece, Mr. Gummage? There is a tomb with a +weeping willow, and two ladies with long hair, one dressed in pink, the +other in blue, holding a wreath between them over the top of the urn. +The ladies are Friendship. Then on the right hand of the piece is a +cottage, and an oak, and a little girl dressed in yellow, sitting on a +green bank, and putting a wreath round the neck of a lamb. Nothing can +be more natural than the lamb's wool. It is done entirely in French +knots. The child and the lamb are Innocence."</p> + +<p>"Ay, ay," said Gummage, "I know the piece well enough—I've drawn them +by dozens."</p> + +<p>"Well," continued Mrs. Atmore, "this satin piece hangs over the front +parlor mantel. It is much prettier and better done than the one Miss +Longstitch worked of Charlotte at the tomb of Werter, though she did sew +silver spangles all over Charlotte's lilac gown, and used chenille, at a +fi'-penny-bit a needleful, for all the banks and the large tree. Now, as +the mantel-piece is provided for, I wish a landscape for each of the +recesses, and a figure-piece to hang on each side of the large +looking-glass, with flower-pieces under them, all by Marianne. Can she +do all these in one quarter?"</p> + +<p>"No, that she can't," replied Gummage; "it will take her two quarters +hard work, and maybe three, to get through the whole of them."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Well, I won't stand about a quarter more or less," said Mrs. Atmore; +"but what I wish Marianne to do most particularly, and, indeed, the +chief reason why I send her to drawing-school just now, is a pattern for +a set of china that we are going to have made in Canton. I was told the +other day by a New York lady (who was quite tired of the queer unmeaning +things which are generally put on India ware), that she had sent a +pattern for a tea-set, drawn by her daughter, and that every article +came out with the identical device beautifully done on the china, all in +the proper colors. She said it was talked of all over New York, and that +people who had never been at the house before, came to look at and +admire it. No doubt it was a great feather in her daughter's cap."</p> + +<p>"Possibly, madam," said Gummage.</p> + +<p>"And now," resumed Mrs. Atmore, "since I heard this, I have thought of +nothing else than having the same thing done in my family; only I shall +send for a dinner set, and a very long one, too. Mr. Atmore tells me +that the <i>Voltaire</i>, one of Stephen Girard's ships, sails for Canton +early next month, and he is well acquainted with the captain, who will +attend to the order for the china. I suppose in the course of a +fortnight Marianne will have learned drawing enough to enable her to do +the pattern?"</p> + +<p>"Oh! yes, madam—quite enough," replied Gummage, suppressing a laugh.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>"To cut the matter short," said Mr. Gummage, "the best thing for the +china is a flower-piece—a basket, or a wreath—or something of that +sort.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> You can have a good cipher in the center, and the colors may be +as bright as you please. India ware is generally painted with one color +only; but the Chinese are submissive animals, and will do just as they +are bid. It may cost something more to have a variety of colors, but I +suppose you will not mind that."</p> + +<p>"Oh! no—no," exclaimed Mrs. Atmore, "I shall not care for the price; I +have set my mind on having this china the wonder of all Philadelphia."</p> + +<p>Our readers will understand, that at this period nearly all the +porcelain used in America was of Chinese manufacture; very little of +that elegant article having been, as yet, imported from France.</p> + +<p>A wreath was selected from the portfolio that contained the engravings +and drawings of flowers. It was decided that Marianne should first +execute it the full size of the model (which was as large as nature), +that she might immediately have a piece to frame; and that she was +afterwards to make a smaller copy of it, as a border for all the +articles of the china set; the middle to be ornamented with the letter +A, in gold, surrounded by the rays of a golden star. Sprigs and tendrils +of the flowers were to branch down from the border, so as nearly to +reach the gilding in the middle. The large wreath that was intended to +frame was to bear in its center the initials of Marianne Atmore, being +the letters M.A. painted in shell gold.</p> + +<p>"And so," said Mr. Gummage, "having a piece to frame, and a pattern for +your china, you'll kill two birds with one stone."</p> + +<p>On the following Monday, the young lady came to take her first lesson, +followed by a mulatto boy,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> carrying a little black morocco trunk, that +contained a four-row box of Reeves's colors, with an assortment of +camel's-hair pencils, half a dozen white saucers, a water cup, a +lead-pencil and a piece of India rubber. Mr. Gummage immediately +supplied her with two bristle brushes, and sundry little shallow earthen +cups, each containing a modicum of some sort of body color, massicot, +flake-white, etc., prepared by himself and charged at a quarter of a +dollar apiece, and which he told her she would want when she came to do +landscapes and figures.</p> + +<p>Mr. Gummage's style was to put in the sky, water and distances with +opaque paints, and the most prominent objects with transparent colors. +This was probably the reason that his foregrounds seemed always to be +sunk in his backgrounds. The model was scarcely considered as a guide, +for he continually told his pupils that they must try to excel it; and +he helped them to do so by making all his skies deep red fire at the +bottom, and dark blue smoke at the top; and exactly reversing the colors +on the water, by putting red at the top and the blue at the bottom. The +distant mountains were lilac and white, and the near rocks buff color, +shaded with purple. The castles and abbeys were usually gamboge. The +trees were dabbed and dotted in with a large bristle brush, so that the +foliage looked like a green frog. The foam of the cascades resembled a +concourse of wigs, scuffling together and knocking the powder out of +each other, the spray being always fizzed on with one of the aforesaid +bristle brushes. All the dark shadows in every part of the picture were +done with a mixture of Persian blue and bistre, and of these two colors +there was conse<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span>quently a vast consumption in Mr. Gummage's school. At +the period of our story, many of the best houses in Philadelphia were +decorated with these landscapes. But for the honor of my townspeople I +must say that the taste for such productions is now entirely obsolete. +We may look forward to the time, which we trust is not far distant, when +the elements of drawing will be taught in every school, and considered +as indispensable to education as a knowledge of writing. It has long +been our belief that <i>any</i> child may, with proper instruction, be made +to draw, as easily as any child may be made to write. We are rejoiced to +find that so distinguished an artist as Rembrandt Peale has avowed the +same opinion, in giving to the world his invaluable little work on +Graphics: in which he has clearly demonstrated the affinity between +drawing and writing, and admirably exemplified the leading principles of +both.</p> + +<p>Marianne's first attempt at the great wreath was awkward enough. After +she had spent five or six afternoons at the outline, and made it +triangular rather than circular, and found it impossible to get in the +sweet-pea, and the convolvulus, and lost and bewildered herself among +the multitude of leaves that formed the cup of the rose, Mr. Gummage +snatched the pencil from her hand, rubbed out the whole, and then drew +it himself. It must be confessed that his forte lay in flowers, and he +was extremely clever at them, "but," as he expressed it, "his scholars +chiefly ran upon landscapes."</p> + +<p>After he had sketched the wreath, he directed Marianne to rub the colors +for her flowers, while he put in Miss Smithson's rocks.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span></p> + +<p>When Marianne had covered all her saucers with colors, and wasted ten +times as much as was necessary, she was eager to commence painting, as +she called it; and in trying to wash the rose with lake, she daubed it +on of crimson thickness. When Mr. Gummage saw it, he gave her a severe +reprimand for meddling with her own piece. It was with great difficulty +that the superabundant color was removed; and he charged her to let the +flowers alone till he was ready to wash them for her. He worked a little +at the piece every day, forbidding Marianne to touch it; and she +remained idle while he was putting in skies, mountains, etc., for the +other young ladies.</p> + +<p>At length the wreath was finished—Mr. Gummage having only sketched it, +and washed it, and given it the last touches. It was put into a splendid +frame, and shown as Miss Marianne Atmore's first attempt at painting: +and everybody exclaimed, "What an excellent teacher Mr. Gummage must be! +How fast he brings on his pupils!"</p> + +<p>In the meantime, she undertook at home to make the small copy that was +to go to China. But she was now "at a dead lock," and found it utterly +impossible to advance a step without Mr. Gummage. It was then thought +best that she should do it at school—meaning that Mr. Gummage should do +it for her, while she looked out the window.</p> + +<p>The whole was at last satisfactorily accomplished, even to the gilt +star, with the A in the center. It was taken home and compared with the +larger wreath, and found still prettier, and shone as Marianne's to the +envy of all mothers whose daughters could not furnish models for<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span> china. +It was finally given in charge to the captain of the <i>Voltaire</i>, with +injunctions to order a dinner-set exactly according to the pattern, and +to prevent the possibility of a mistake, a written direction accompanied +it.</p> + +<p>The ship sailed—and Marianne continued three quarters at Mr. Gummage's +school, where she nominally affected another flower-piece, and also +perpetrated Kemble in Rolla, Edwin and Angelina, the Falls of +Schuylkill, and the Falls of Niagara, all of which were duly framed, and +hung in their appointed places.</p> + +<p>During the year that followed the departure of the ship <i>Voltaire</i> great +impatience for her return was manifested by the ladies of the Atmore +family,—anxious to see how the china would look, and frequently hoping +that the colors would be bright enough, and none of the flowers +omitted—that the gilding would be rich, and everything inserted in its +proper place, exactly according to the pattern. Mrs. Atmore's only +regret was, that she had not sent for a tea-set also; not that she was +in want of one, but then it would be so much better to have a dinner-set +and a tea-set precisely alike, and Marianne's beautiful wreath on all.</p> + +<p>"Why, my dear," said Mr. Atmore, "how often have I heard you say that +you would never have another <i>tea</i>-set from Canton, because the Chinese +persist in making the principal articles of such old-fashioned, awkward +shapes. For my part, I always disliked the tall coffee-pots, with their +straight spouts, looking like light-houses with bowsprits to them; and +the short, clumsy teapots, with their twisted handles, and lids that +always fall off."</p> + +<p>"To be sure," said Mrs. Atmore, "I have been<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span> looking forward to the +time when we can get a French tea-set upon tolerable terms. But in the +meanwhile I should be very glad to have cups and saucers with Marianne's +beautiful wreath, and of course when we use them on the table we should +always bring forward our silver pots."</p> + +<p>Spring returned, and there was much watching of the vanes, and great joy +when they pointed easterly, and the ship-news now became the most +interesting column of the papers. A vessel that had sailed from New York +to Canton on the same day the <i>Voltaire</i> departed from Philadelphia had +already got in; therefore, the <i>Voltaire</i> might be hourly expected. At +length she was reported below; and at this period the river Delaware +suffered much, in comparison with the river Hudson, owing to the +tediousness of its navigation from the capes to the city.</p> + +<p>At last the <i>Voltaire</i> cast anchor at the foot of Market Street, and our +ladies could scarcely refrain from walking down to the wharf to see the +ship that held the box that held the china. But invitations were +immediately sent out for a long projected dinner-party, which Mrs. +Atmore had persuaded her husband to defer till they could exhibit the +beautiful new porcelain.</p> + +<p>The box was landed, and conveyed to the house. The whole family were +present at the opening, which was performed in the dining-room by Mr. +Atmore himself—all the servants peeping in at the door. As soon as a +part of the lid was split off, and a handful of the straw removed, a +pile of plates appeared, all separately wrapped in India paper. Each of +the family snatched up a plate and hastily tore off the covering. There +were the flowers glowing in beau<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span>tiful colors, and the gold star and the +gold A, admirably executed. But under the gold star, on every plate, +dish and tureen were the words, "<span class="smcap">This in the Middle</span>!"—being the +direction which the literal and exact Chinese had minutely copied from a +crooked line that Mr. Atmore had hastily scrawled on the pattern with a +very bad pen, and of course without the slightest fear of its being +inserted <i>verbatim</i> beneath the central ornament.</p> + +<p>Mr. Atmore laughed—Mrs. Atmore cried—the servants giggled aloud—and +Marianne cried first, and laughed afterwards.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>SUPPRESSED CHAPTERS<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a></h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">By Carolyn Wells</span></h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Zenobia, they tell us, was a leader born and bred;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of any sort of enterprise she'd fitly take the head.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The biggest, burliest buccaneers bowed down to her in awe;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To Warriors, Emperors or Kings, Zenobia's word was law.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Above her troop of Amazons her helmet plume would toss,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And every one, with loud accord, proclaimed Zenobia's boss.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The reason of her power (though the part she didn't look),<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was simply that Zenobia had once lived out as cook.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Xantippe was a Grecian Dame—they say she was the wife<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of Socrates, and history shows she led him a life!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They say she was a virago, a vixen and a shrew,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who scolded poor old Socrates until the air was blue.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span></div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She never stopped from morn till night the clacking of her tongue,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But this is thus accounted for: You see, when she was young—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(And 'tis an explanation that explains, as you must own),<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Xantippe was the Central of the Grecian telephone.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span></div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>OLD GRIMES</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">By Albert Gorton Greene</span></h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Old Grimes is dead, that good old man<br /></span> +<span class="i2">We never shall see more:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He used to wear a long black coat<br /></span> +<span class="i2">All button'd down before.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">His heart was open as the day,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">His feelings all were true;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His hair was some inclined to gray—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He wore it in a queue.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Whene'er he heard the voice of pain,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">His breast with pity burn'd;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The large, round head upon his cane<br /></span> +<span class="i2">From ivory was turn'd.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Kind words he ever had for all;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He knew no base design:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His eyes were dark and rather small,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">His nose was aquiline.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He lived at peace with all mankind,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In friendship he was true;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His coat had pocket-holes behind,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">His pantaloons were blue.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Unharm'd, the sin which earth pollutes<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He pass'd securely o'er,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And never wore a pair of boots<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For thirty years or more.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span><br /> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But good old Grimes is now at rest,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Nor fears misfortune's frown:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He wore a double-breasted vest—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The stripes ran up and down.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He modest merit sought to find,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And pay it its desert:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He had no malice in his mind,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">No ruffles on his shirt.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">His neighbors he did not abuse—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Was sociable and gay:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He wore large buckles on his shoes,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And changed them every day.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">His knowledge hid from public gaze,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">He did not bring to view,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nor made a noise town-meeting days,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As many people do.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">His worldly goods he never threw<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In trust to fortune's chances,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But lived (as all his brothers do)<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In easy circumstances.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thus undisturb'd by anxious cares,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">His peaceful moments ran;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And everybody said he was<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A fine old gentleman.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span></div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>MISS LEGION</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">By Bert Leston Taylor</span></h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She is hotfoot after Cultyure;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She pursues it with a club.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She breathes a heavy atmosphere<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of literary flub.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No literary shrine so far<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But she is there to kneel;<br /></span> +<span class="i6">And—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her favorite bunch of reading<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Is O. Meredith's "Lucile."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Of course she's up on pictures—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Passes for a connoisseur;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On free days at the Institute<br /></span> +<span class="i2">You'll always notice her.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She qualifies approval<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of a Titian or Corot,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">But—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She throws a fit of rapture<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When she comes to Bouguereau.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And when you talk of music,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Why, she's Music's devotee.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She will tell you that Beethoven<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Always makes her wish to pray,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And "dear old Bach!" his very name,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She says, her ear enchants;<br /></span> +<span class="i6">But—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Her favorite piece is Weber's<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Invitation to the Dance."<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span></div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>HAVE YOU SEEN THE LADY?</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">By John Philip Sousa</span></h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Have I told you the name of a lady?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Have I told you the name of a dear?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">'Twas known long ago,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And ends with an O;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You don't hear it often round here.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Have I talked of the eyes of a lady?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Have I talked of the eyes that are bright?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Their color, you see,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Is B-L-U-E;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They're the gin in the cocktail of light.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Have I sung of the hair of a lady?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Have I sung of the hair of a dove?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">What shade do you say?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">B-L-A-C-K;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It's the fizz in the champagne of love.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Can you guess it—the name of the lady?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She is sweet, she is fair, she is coy.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Your guessing forego,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">It's J-U-N-O;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She's the mint in the julep of joy."<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span></div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>THE FUNNY LITTLE FELLOW</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">By James Whitcomb Riley</span></h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Twas a Funny Little Fellow<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of the very purest type,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For he had a heart as mellow<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As an apple over-ripe;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the brightest little twinkle<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When a funny thing occurred,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the lightest little tinkle<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of a laugh you ever heard!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">His smile was like the glitter<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of the sun in tropic lands,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And his talk a sweeter twitter<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Than the swallow understands;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hear him sing—and tell a story—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Snap a joke—ignite a pun,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Twas a capture—rapture—glory,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And explosion—all in one!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Though he hadn't any money—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That condiment which tends<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To make a fellow "honey"<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For the palate of his friends;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Sweet simples he compounded—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Sovereign antidotes for sin<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Or taint,—a faith unbounded<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That his friends were genuine.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span><br /> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He wasn't honored, may be—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For his songs of praise were slim,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Yet I never knew a baby<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That wouldn't crow for him;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I never knew a mother<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But urged a kindly claim<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Upon him as a brother,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">At the mention of his name.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The sick have ceased their sighing,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And have even found the grace<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of a smile when they were dying<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As they looked upon his face;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And I've seen his eyes of laughter<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Melt in tears that only ran<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As though, swift dancing after,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Came the Funny Little Man.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">He laughed away the sorrow,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And he laughed away the gloom<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We are all so prone to borrow<br /></span> +<span class="i2">From the darkness of the tomb;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And he laughed across the ocean<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of a happy life, and passed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With a laugh of glad emotion,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Into Paradise at last.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And I think the Angels knew him,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And had gathered to await<br /></span> +<span class="i0">His coming, and run to him<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Through the widely-opened Gate—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With their faces gleaming sunny<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For his laughter-loving sake,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And thinking, "What a funny<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Little Angel he will make!"<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span></div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>MUSICAL REVIEW EXTRAORDINARY</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">By John Phoenix</span></h3> + + +<p style="text-align: right;"> +<span class="smcap">San Diego</span>, July 10th, 1854.<br /> +</p> + +<p>As your valuable work is not supposed to be so entirely identified with +San Franciscan interests as to be careless what takes place in other +portions of this great <i>kentry</i>, and as it is received and read in San +Diego with great interest (I have loaned my copy to over four different +literary gentlemen, most of whom have read some of it), I have thought +it not improbable that a few critical notices of the musical +performances and the drama of this place might be acceptable to you, and +interest your readers. I have been, moreover, encouraged to this task by +the perusal of your interesting musical and theatrical critiques on San +Francisco performers and performances; as I feel convinced that if you +devote so much space to them you will not allow any little feeling of +rivalry between the two great cities to prevent your noticing ours, +which, without the slightest feeling of prejudice, I must consider as +infinitely superior. I propose this month to call your attention to the +two great events in our theatrical and musical world—the appearance of +the talented Miss <span class="smcap">Pelican</span>, and the production of Tarbox's celebrated +"Ode Symphonie" of "The Plains."</p> + +<p>The critiques on the former are from the columns of the Vallecetos +Sentinel, to which they were originally contributed by me, appearing on +the respective dates of June 1st and June 31st.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span></p> + + +<p style="text-align: center;"><i>From the Vallecetos Sentinel, June 1st</i></p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p><span class="smcap">Miss Pelican.</span>—Never during our dramatic experience has a more +exciting event occurred than the sudden bursting upon our +theatrical firmament, full, blazing, unparalleled, of the bright, +resplendent and particular star whose honored name shines refulgent +at the head of this article. Coming among us unheralded, almost +unknown, without claptrap, in a wagon drawn by oxen across the +plains, with no agent to get up a counterfeit enthusiasm in her +favor, she appeared before us for the first time at the San Diego +Lyceum last evening, in the trying and difficult character of +Ingomar, or the Tame Savage. We are at a loss to describe our +sensations, our admiration, at her magnificent, her super-human +efforts. We do not hesitate to say that she is by far the superior +to any living actress; and, as we believe that to be the perfection +of acting, we cannot be wrong in the belief that no one hereafter +will ever be found to approach her. Her conception of the character +of Ingomar was perfection itself; her playful and ingenuous manner, +her light girlish laughter, in the scene with Sir Peter, showed an +appreciation of the savage character which nothing but the most +arduous study, the most elaborate training could produce; while her +awful change to the stern, unyielding, uncompromising father in the +tragic scene of Duncan's murder, was indeed nature itself. Miss +Pelican is about seventeen years of age, of miraculous beauty, and +most thrilling voice. It is needless to say she dresses admirably, +as in fact we have said all we can say when we called her, most +truthfully, perfection. Mr. John Boots took the part of Parthenia +very creditably, etc., etc.</p></div> + + +<p style="text-align: center;"><i>From the Vallecetos Sentinel, June 31st</i></p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p><span class="smcap">Miss Pelican.</span>—As this lady is about to leave us to commence an +engagement on the San Francisco stage, we should regret exceedingly +if anything we have said about her should send with her a +<i>prestige</i> which might be found undeserved on trial. The fact is, +Miss Pelican is a very ordinary actress; indeed, one of the most +indifferent ones we have ever happened to see. She came here from +the Museum at Fort Laramie, and we praised her so injudiciously +that she became completely spoiled. She has performed a round of +characters dur<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span>ing the last week, very miserably, though we are +bound to confess that her performance of King Lear last evening was +superior to anything of the kind we ever saw. Miss Pelican is about +forty-three years of age, singularly plain in her personal +appearance, awkward and embarrassed, with a cracked and squeaking +voice, and really dresses quite outrageously. <i>She has much to +learn—poor thing!</i></p></div> + +<p>I take it the above notices are rather ingenious. The fact is, I'm no +judge of acting, and don't know how Miss Pelican will turn out. If well, +why there's my notice of June the 1st; if ill, then June 31st comes in +play, and, as there is but one copy of the Sentinel printed, it's an +easy matter to destroy the incorrect one; <i>both can't be wrong</i>; so I've +made a sure thing of it in any event. Here follows my musical critique, +which I flatter myself is of rather superior order:</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Plains. Ode Symphonie par Jabez Tarbox.</span>—This glorious composition +was produced at the San Diego Odeon on the 31st of June, ult., for the +first time in this or any other country, by a very full orchestra (the +performance taking place immediately after supper), and a chorus +composed of the entire "Sauer Kraut-Verein," the "Wee Gates +Association," and choice selections from the "Gyascutus" and +"Pike-harmonic" societies. The solos were rendered by Herr Tuden Links, +the recitations by Herr Von Hyden Schnapps, both performers being +assisted by Messrs. John Smith and Joseph Brown, who held their coats, +fanned them, and furnished water during the more overpowering passages.</p> + +<p>"The Plains" we consider the greatest musical achievement that has been +presented to an enraptured public. Like Waterloo among battles; Napoleon +among warriors; Niagara among falls,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span> and Peck among senators, this +magnificent composition stands among Oratorios, Operas, Musical +Melodramas and performances of Ethiopian Serenaders, peerless and +unrivaled. <i>Il frappe toute chose parfaitement froid.</i></p> + +<p>"It does not depend for its success" upon its plot, its theme, its +school or its master, for it has very little if any of them, but upon +its soul-subduing, all-absorbing, high-faluting effect upon the +audience, every member of which it causes to experience the most +singular and exquisite sensations. Its strains at times remind us of +those of the old master of the steamer McKim, who never went to sea +without being unpleasantly affected;—a straining after effect he used +to term it. Blair in his lecture on beauty, and Mills in his treatise on +logic, (p. 31,) have alluded to the feeling which might be produced in +the human mind by something of this transcendentally sublime +description, but it has remained for M. Tarbox, in the production of +"The Plains," to call this feeling forth.</p> + +<p>The symphonie opens upon the wide and boundless plains in longitude 115 +degrees W., latitude 35 degrees 21 minutes 03 seconds N., and about +sixty miles from the west bank of Pitt River. These data are beautifully +and clearly expressed by a long (topographically) drawn note from an E +flat clarionet. The sandy nature of the soil, sparsely dotted with +bunches of cactus and artemisia, the extended view, flat and unbroken to +the horizon, save by the rising smoke in the extreme verge, denoting the +vicinity of a Pi Utah village, are represented by the bass drum. A few +notes on the piccolo call attention to a solitary antelope picking up +mescal beans in the fore<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span>ground. The sun, having an altitude of 36 +degrees 27 minutes, blazes down upon the scene in indescribable majesty. +"Gradually the sounds roll forth in a song" of rejoicing to the God of +Day:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Of thy intensity<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And great immensity<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Now then we sing;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Beholding in gratitude<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thee in this latitude,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Curious thing."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Which swells out into "Hey Jim along, Jim along Josey," then +<i>decrescendo</i>, <i>mas o menos</i>, <i>poco pocita</i>, dies away and dries up.</p> + +<p>Suddenly we hear approaching a train from Pike County, consisting of +seven families, with forty-six wagons, each drawn by thirteen oxen; each +family consists of a man in butternut-colored clothing driving the oxen; +a wife in butternut-colored clothing riding in the wagon, holding a +butternut baby, and seventeen butternut children running promiscuously +about the establishment; all are barefooted, dusty, and smell +unpleasantly. (All these circumstances are expressed by pretty rapid +fiddling for some minutes, winding up with a puff from the orpheclide +played by an intoxicated Teuton with an atrocious breath—it is +impossible to misunderstand the description.) Now rises o'er the plains, +in mellifluous accents, the grand Pike County Chorus:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Oh we'll soon be thar<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the land of gold,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Through the forest old,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O'er the mounting cold,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With spirits bold—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Oh, we come, we come,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And we'll soon be thar.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Gee up Bolly! whoo, up, whoo haw!"<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span></div></div> + +<p>The train now encamp. The unpacking of the kettles and mess-pans, the +unyoking of the oxen, the gathering about the various camp-fires, the +frizzling of the pork, are so clearly expressed by the music that the +most untutored savage could readily comprehend it. Indeed, so vivid and +lifelike was the representation, that a lady sitting near us +involuntarily exclaimed aloud, at a certain passage, "<i>Thar, that pork's +burning!</i>" and it was truly interesting to watch the gratified +expression of her face when, by a few notes of the guitar, the pan was +removed from the fire, and the blazing pork extinguished.</p> + +<p>This is followed by the beautiful <i>aria</i>:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"O! marm, I want a pancake!"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Followed by that touching <i>recitative</i>:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Shet up, or I will spank you!"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>To which succeeds a grand <i>crescendo</i> movement, representing the flight +of the child with the pancake, the pursuit of the mother, and the final +arrest and summary punishment of the former, represented by the rapid +and successive strokes of the castanet.</p> + +<p>The turning in for the night follows; and the deep and stertorous +breathing of the encampment is well given by the bassoon, while the +sufferings and trials of an unhappy father with an unpleasant infant are +touchingly set forth by the <i>cornet à piston</i>.</p> + +<p>Part Second.—The night attack of the Pi Utahs; the fearful cries of the +demoniac Indians; the shrieks of the females and children; the rapid and +effective fire of the rifles; the stampede of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> the oxen; their recovery +and the final repulse, the Pi Utahs being routed after a loss of +thirty-six killed and wounded, while the Pikes lose but one scalp (from +an old fellow who wore a wig, and lost it in the scuffle), are +faithfully given, and excite the most intense interest in the minds of +the hearers; the emotions of fear, admiration and delight: succeeding +each other, in their minds, with almost painful rapidity. Then follows +the grand chorus:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Oh! we gin them fits,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The Ingen Utahs.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With our six-shooters—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We gin 'em pertickuler fits."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>After which we have the charming recitative of Herr Tuden Links, to the +infant, which is really one of the most charming gems in the +performance:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Now, dern your skin, <i>can't</i> you be easy?"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Morning succeeds. The sun rises magnificently (octavo flute)—breakfast +is eaten,—in a rapid movement on three sharps; the oxen are caught and +yoked up—with a small drum and triangle; the watches, purses and other +valuables of the conquered Pi Utahs are stored away in a camp-kettle, to +a small movement on the piccolo, and the train moves on, with the grand +chorus:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"We'll soon be thar,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Gee up Bolly! Whoo hup! whoo haw!"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The whole concludes with the grand hymn and chorus:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span></p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"When we die we'll go to Benton,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Whup! Whoo, haw!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The greatest man that e'er land saw,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Gee!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who this little airth was sent on<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Whup! Whoo, haw!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To tell a 'hawk from a handsaw!'<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Gee!"<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The immense expense attending the production of this magnificent work, +the length of time required to prepare the chorus, and the incredible +number of instruments destroyed at each rehearsal, have hitherto +prevented M. Tarbox from placing it before the American public, and it +has remained for San Diego to show herself superior to her sister cities +of the Union, in musical taste and appreciation, and in high-souled +liberality, by patronizing this immortal prodigy, and enabling its +author to bring it forth in accordance with his wishes and its +capabilities. We trust every citizen of San Diego and Vallecetos will +listen to it ere it is withdrawn; and if there yet lingers in San +Francisco one spark of musical fervor, or a remnant of taste for pure +harmony, we can only say that the Southerner sails from that place once +a fortnight, and that the passage money is but forty-five dollars.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>THE RUNAWAY BOY</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">By James Whitcomb Riley</span></h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Wunst I sassed my Pa, an' he<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Won't stand that, an' punished me,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nen when he was gone that day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I slipped out an' runned away.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I tooked all my copper-cents,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' clumbed over our back fence<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In the jimpson-weeds 'at growed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ever'where all down the road.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Nen I got out there, an' nen<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I runned some—an' runned again<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When I met a man 'at led<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A big cow 'at shooked her head.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I went down a long, long lane<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where was little pigs a-play'n';<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' a grea'-big pig went "Booh!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' jumped up, an' skeered me too.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Nen I scampered past, an' they<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was somebody hollered "Hey!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' I ist looked ever'where,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' they was nobody there.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I <i>want</i> to, but I'm 'fraid to try<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To go back.... An' by-an'-by<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Somepin' hurts my throat inside—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' I want my Ma—an' cried.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span><br /> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Nen a grea'-big girl come through<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where's a gate, an' telled me who<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Am I? an' ef I tell where<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My home's at she'll show me there.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But I couldn't ist but tell<br /></span> +<span class="i0">What's my <i>name</i>; an' she says well,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' she tooked me up an' says<br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>She</i> know where I live, she guess.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Nen she telled me hug wite close<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Round her neck!—an' off she goes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Skippin' up the street! An' nen<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Purty soon I'm home again.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">An' my Ma, when she kissed me,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Kissed the <i>big girl</i> too, an' <i>she</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">Kissed me—ef I p'omise <i>shore</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0">I won't run away no more!<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span></div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>THE DRAYMAN</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">By Daniel O'Connell</span></h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The captain that walks the quarter-deck<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Is the monarch of the sea;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But every day, when I'm on my dray,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I'm as big a monarch as he.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For the car must slack when I'm on the track,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And the gripman's face gets blue,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As he holds her back till his muscles crack,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And he shouts, "Hey, hey! Say, you!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Get out of the way with that dray!" "I won't!"<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Get out of the way, I say!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But I stiffen my back, and I stay on the track,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And I won't get out of the way.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When a gaudy carriage bowls along,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With a coachman perched on high,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Solemn and fat, a cockade in his hat,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Just like a big blue fly,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I swing my leaders across the road,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And put a stop to his jaunt,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And the ladies cry, "John, John, drive on!"<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And I laugh when he says "I caun't."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oh, life to me is a big picnic,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">From the rise to the set of sun!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The swells that ride in their fancy drags<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Don't begin to have my fun.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'm king of the road, though I wear no crown,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As I leisurely move along,</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">For I own the streets, and I hold them down,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And I love to hear this song:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Get out of the way with your dray!" "I won't!"<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Get out of the way, I say!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But I stiffen my back, and I stay on the track,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And I don't get out of the way.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span></div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>BILL'S COURTSHIP</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">By Frank L. Stanton</span></h3> + + +<h3>I</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Bill looked happy as could be<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One bright mornin'; an' says he:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Folks has been a-tellin' me<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Mollie's set her cap my way;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' I'm goin' thar' to-day<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With the license; so, ol' boy,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Might's well shake, an' wish me joy!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Never seen a woman yit<br /></span> +<span class="i0">This here feller couldn't git!"<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3>II</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Now, it happened, that same day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'd been lookin' Mollie's way;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Jest had saddled my ol' hoss<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To go canterin' across<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Parson Jones's pastur', an'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ax her fer her heart an' han'!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So, when Bill had had his say<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' done set his weddin' day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I lit out an' rid that way.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3>III</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Mollie met me at the door:—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Glad to see yer face once more!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She—says she: "Come in—come in!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">("It's the best man now will win,"</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">Thinks I to myself.) Then she<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Brung a rocker out fer me<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On the cool piazza wide,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With her own chair right 'longside!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3>IV</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In about two hours I knowed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In that race I had the road!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Talked in sich a winnin' way<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Got her whar' she named the day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With her shiny head at rest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On my speckled Sunday vest!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An', whilst in that happy state,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bill—he rid up to the gate.<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3>V</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Well, sir-ee!... He sot him down—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Cheapest lookin' chap in town!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(Knowed at once I'd set my traps!)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Talked 'bout weather, an' the craps,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' a thousan' things; an' then—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Jest the lonesomest o' men—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Said he had so fur to ride,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Reckoned it wuz time to slide!<br /></span> +</div></div> + + +<h3>VI</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But I hollered out: "Ol' boy,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Might's well shake, an' wish me joy!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I hain't seen the woman yit<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That this feller couldn't git!"<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span></div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>THE WOMAN WHO MARRIED AN OWL</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">By Anne Virginia Culbertson</span></h3> + + +<p>When the children got home from the nutting expedition and had eaten +supper, they sat around discontentedly, wishing every few minutes that +their mother had returned.</p> + +<p>"I wish mamma would come back," said Ned. "I never know what to do in +the evening when she isn't home."</p> + +<p>"I 'low 'bout de bes' you-all kin do is ter lemme putt you ter baid," +said Aunt 'Phrony.</p> + +<p>"Don't want to go to bed," "I'm not sleepy," "Want to stay up," came in +chorus from three pairs of lips.</p> + +<p>"You chillen is wusser dan night owls," said the old woman. "Ef you +keeps on wid dis settin'-up-all-night bizness, I boun' some er you gwine +turn inter one'r dese yer big, fussy owls wid yaller eyes styarin', jes' +de way li'l Mars Kit doin' dis ve'y minnit, tryin' ter keep hisse'f +awake. An' dat 'mines me uv a owl whar turnt hisse'f inter a man, an' ef +a owl kin do dat, w'ats ter hinner one'r you-all turnin' inter a owl, I +lak ter know? So you bes' come 'long up ter baid, an' ef you is right +spry gettin' raidy, mebbe I'll whu'l in an' tell you 'bout dat owl."</p> + +<p>The little procession moved upstairs, Coonie, the house-boy, bringing up +the rear with an armful of sticks and some fat splinters of lightwood, +which were soon blazing with an oily sputter.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span> Coonie scented a story, +and his bullet pate was bent over the fire an unnecessarily long time, +as he blew valiant puffs upon the flames which no longer needed his +assistance, and arranged and rearranged his skilfully piled sticks.</p> + +<p>"Quit dat foolishness, nigger," said 'Phrony at last, "an' set down on +de ha'th an' 'have yo'se'f. Ef you wanter stay, whyn't you sesso, +stidder blowin' yo'se'f black in de face? Now, den, ef y'all raidy, I +gwine begin.</p> + +<p>"Dish yer w'at I gwine tell happen at de time er de 'ear w'en de Injuns +wuz havin' der green-cawn darnse, an' I reckon you-all 'bout ter ax me +w'at dat is, so I s'pose I mought ez well tell you. 'Long in Augus' w'en +de Injuns stopped wu'kkin' de cawn, w'at we call 'layin' by de crap,' +den dey cu'd mos' times tell ef 'twuz gwineter be a good crap, so dey +'mence ter git raidy fer de darnse nigh a month befo'han'. Dey went ter +de medincin' man an' axed him fer ter 'pint de day. Den medincin' man he +sont out runners ter tell ev'b'dy, an' de runners dey kyar'd +'memb'ance-strings wid knots tied all 'long 'em, an' give 'em ter de +people fer ter he'p 'em 'member. De folks dey'd cut off a knot f'um de +string each day, an' w'en de las' one done cut off, den dey know de day +fer de darnse wuz come. An' de medincin' man he sont out hunters, too, +fer ter git game, an' mo' runners fer ter kyar' hit ter de people so's't +dey mought cook hit an' bring hit in.</p> + +<p>"W'en de time come, de people ga'rred toge'rr an' de medincin' man he +tucken some er de new cawn an' some uv all de craps an' burnt hit, befo' +de people wuz 'lowed ter eat any. Atter de burnin', den he tucken a year +er cawn in one<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span> han' an' ax fer blessin's an' good craps wid dat han', +w'ile he raise up tu'rr han' ter de storm an' de win' an' de hail an' +baig 'em not ter bring evil 'pun de people. Atter dat, dey all made der +bre'kfus' offen roas'in'-years er de new cawn an' den de darnse begun +an' lasted fo' days an' fo' nights; de men dress' up in der bes' an' de +gals wearin' gre't rattles tied on der knees, dat shuk an' rattled wid +ev'y step.</p> + +<p>"De gal whar I gwine tell 'bout wuz on her way home on de fo'th night, +an' she wuz pow'ful tired, 'kase dem rattles is monst'ous haivy, an' she +bin keepin' hit up fo' nights han' runnin'. She wuz gwine thu a dark +place in de woods w'en suddintly she seed a young man all wrop up in a +sof' gray blankit an' leanin' 'gins' a tree. His eyes wuz big an' roun' +an' bright, an' dey seemed ter bu'n lak fire. Dem eyes drord de gal an' +drord de gal 'twel she warn't 'feared no mo', an' she come nearer, an' +las' he putt out his arms wrop up in de gray blanket an' drord her clost +'twel she lean erg'in him, an' she look up in de big, bright eyes an' +she say, 'Whar is you, whar is you?' An' he say, 'Oo-goo-coo, +Oo-goo-coo.' Dat wuz de Churry<i>kee</i> name fer 'owl,' but de gal ain' pay +no 'tention ter dat, for mos' er de Injun men wuz name' atter bu'ds an' +beas'eses an' sech ez dat. Atter dat she useter go out ter de woods ev'y +night ter see de young man, an' she alluz sing out ter him, 'Whar is +you, whar is you?' an' he'd arnser, 'Oo-goo-coo, Oo-goo-coo.' Dat wuz de +on'ies wu'd he uver say, but de gal thought 'twuz all right, fer she +done mek up her min' dat he 'longed ter nu'rr tribe er Injuns whar spoke +diff'nt f'um her own people. Sidesen dat, she love' him, an' w'en gals<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span> +is in love dey think ev'ything de man do is jes' 'bout right, an' dese +yer co'tin'-couples is no gre't fer talkin,' nohow.</p> + +<p>"De gal's daddy wuz daid an' her an' her mammy live all 'lone, so las' +she mek up her min' dat it be heap mo' handy ter have a man roun' de +house, so she up an' tell her mammy dat she done got ma'ied. Her mammy +say, 'You is, is you? Well, who de man?' De gal say 'Oo-goo-coo.' 'Well, +den,' sez her mammy, 'I reckon you bes' bring home dish yer Oo-goo-coo +an' see ef we kain't mek him useful. A li'l good game, now an' den, 'ud +suit my mouf right well. We ain' have nair' pusson ter do no huntin' fer +us sence yo' daddy died.'</p> + +<p>"'Mammy,' sez de gal, 'I'se 'bleeged ter tell you dat my husban' kain't +speak ow' langwidge.'</p> + +<p>"'All de better,' sez her mammy, sez she. 'Dar ain' gwine be no trouble +'bout dat, 'kase I kin do talkin' 'nuff fer two, an' I ain' want one +dese yer back-talkin' son-in-laws, nohow.'</p> + +<p>"So de nex' night de gal went off an' comed back late wid de young man. +Her mammy ax him in an' gin him a seat by de fire, an' dar he sot all +wrop up in his blinkit, wid his haid turnt 'way f'um de light, not +sayin' nuttin' ter nob'dy. An' de fire died down an' de wind blewed +mo'nful outside, an' dar he sot on an' on, an' w'en de wimmins went ter +sleep, dar he wuz settin', still. But in de mawnin' w'en dey woked up he +wuz gone, an' dey ain' see hya'r ner hide uv 'im all day.</p> + +<p>"De nex' night he come erg'in and bringed a lot er game wid 'im, an' he +putt dat down at de do' an' set hisse'f down by de fire an' stay dar, +same ez befo', not sayin' nair' wu'd. Dat kind<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span> er aggervex de gal's +mammy at las', 'kase she wuz one'r dese yer wimmins whar no sooner gits +w'at dey ax fer dan dey ain' kyare 'bout hit no mo.' She want son-in-law +whar kain't talk, she git him, an' den she want one whar kin arnser +back. She gittin' kind er jubous 'bout him, but she 'feared ter say +anything fer fear he quit an' she git no mo' game.</p> + +<p>"Thu'd night he come onct mo' wid a passel er game, an' she mighty +cur'ous 'bout him by dat time. She say ter husse'f, 'Well! ef I ain' got +de curisomest son-in-law in dese diggin's, den I miss de queschin. I +wunner w'at mek him set wid his face turnt f'um de fire an' blinkin' his +eyes all de time? I wunner w'y he ain' nuver onloose dat blankit, an' +w'y he g'longs off 'fo' de daylight an' nuver comes back 'twel de dark.'</p> + +<p>"'Oh, mammy,' sez de gal, sez she, 'ain' I tol' you he kain't speak ow' +langwidge, an' I 'spec' he done come f'um dat wo'm kyountry whar we year +tell 'bout, 'way off yonner, an' dat huccome he hatter keep his blankit +roun' him. I reckon he git so tired huntin' all day, no wunner he hatter +blink his eyes ter keep 'em open.'</p> + +<p>"But her mammy wan't sassified, 'kase hit mighty hard ter haid off one'r +dese yer pryin' wimmins, so she go outside an' ga'rr up some lightwood +splinters an' th'ow 'em on de fire, dis-away, all uv a suddint." Here +the old woman rose and threw on a handful of lightwood, which blazed up +with a great sputtering, and in the strong light she stood before the +fire enacting the part of the scared Owl for the delighted yet +half-startled children.</p> + +<p>"An' w'en she th'owed hit on," Aunt 'Phrony proceeded, "de fire blaze +an' spit an' sputter jes'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span> lak dis do, an' de ooman she fotched a yell +an' cried out, she did, 'Lan' er de mussiful! W'at cur'ous sort er wood +is dish yer dat ac' lak dis?' De Owl he wuz startle' an' he look roun' +suddint, dis-a-way, over his shoulder, an' de wimmins dey let out a +turr'ble screech, 'kase dey seed 'twa'n't nuttin' but a big owl settin' +dar blinkin'.</p> + +<p>"Owl seed he wuz foun' out, an' he riz up an' give his gre't, wide wings +a big flop, lak dis, an' swoop out de do' cryin' 'Oo-goo-coo! +Oo-goo-coo!' ez he flewed off inter de darkness." Here Aunt 'Phrony +spread her arms like wings and made a swoop half-way across the room to +the bedside of the startled children. "An'," she continued, "de wind +howl mo'nful all night long, an' seem ter de gal an' her mammy lak 'twuz +de voice of po' Oo-goo-coo mo'nin' fer de gal he love."</p> + +<p>"And didn't he ever come back?" said Ned.</p> + +<p>"Naw, suh, dat he didn'. He wuz too 'shame' ter come back, an' he bin so +'shame' er de trick uver sence dat he hide hisse'f way in de daytime an' +nuver come out 'twel de dusk, an' den he go sweepin' an' swoopin' 'long +on dem gre't big sof' wings, so quiet dat he ain' mek de ghos' uv a +soun', jes' looks lak a big shadder flittin' roun' in de dusk. He teck +dat time, too, 'kase he know dat 'bout den de li'l fiel' mouses an' sech +ez dat comes out an' 'mences ter run roun', an' woe be unter 'em ef dey +meets up wid Mistah Owl; deys a-goner, sho'."</p> + +<p>"But how could they think an owl was a man?" asked Janey.</p> + +<p>"Well, honey, de tale ain' tell dat, but I done study hit out dis-a-way, +dat mo'n likely de gal bin turnin' up her nose at some young Injun<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span> man, +an' outer spite he done gone an' got some witch ter putt a spell on her +so's't de Owl 'ud look lak a man an' she 'ud go an' th'ow husse'f away +on a ol' no-kyount bu'd. Yas, I reckon dat wuz 'bout de way. An' now +y'all better shet up dem peepers er you'll be gittin' lak de owls, no +good in de day time, an' wantin' ter be up an' prowlin' all night."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>MR. DOOLEY ON EXPERT TESTIMONY</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">By Finley Peter Dunne</span></h3> + + +<p>"Annything new?" said Mr. Hennessy, who had been waiting patiently for +Mr. Dooley to put down his newspaper.</p> + +<p>"I've been r-readin' th' tistimony iv th' Lootgert case," said Mr. +Dooley.</p> + +<p>"What d'ye think iv it?"</p> + +<p>"I think so," said Mr. Dooley.</p> + +<p>"Think what?"</p> + +<p>"How do I know?" said Mr. Dooley. "How do I know what I think? I'm no +combi-nation iv chemist, doctor, osteologist, polisman, an' +sausage-maker, that I can give ye an opinion right off th' bat. A man +needs to be all iv thim things to detarmine annything about a murdher +trile in these days. This shows how intilligent our methods is, as Hogan +says. A large German man is charged with puttin' his wife away into a +breakfas'-dish, an' he says he didn't do it. Th' on'y question, thin, is +Did or did not Alphonse Lootgert stick Mrs. L. into a vat, an' rayjooce +her to a quick lunch? Am I right?"</p> + +<p>"Ye ar-re," said Mr. Hennessy.</p> + +<p>"That's simple enough. What th' coort ought to've done was to call him +up, an' say: 'Lootgert, where's ye'er good woman?' If Lootgert cudden't +tell, he ought to be hanged on gin'ral principles; f'r a man must keep +his wife around th' house, an' whin she isn't there, it shows he's a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span> +poor provider. But, if Lootgert says, 'I don't know where me wife is,' +the coort shud say: 'Go out, an' find her. If ye can't projooce her in a +week, I'll fix ye.' An' let that be th' end iv it.</p> + +<p>"But what do they do? They get Lootgert into coort an' stand him up +befure a gang iv young rayporthers an' th' likes iv thim to make +pitchers iv him. Thin they summon a jury composed iv poor, tired, sleepy +expressmen an' tailors an' clerks. Thin they call in a profissor from a +colledge. 'Profissor,' says th' lawyer f'r the State, 'I put it to ye if +a wooden vat three hundherd an' sixty feet long, twenty-eight feet deep, +an' sivinty-five feet wide, an' if three hundherd pounds iv caustic soda +boiled, an' if the leg iv a ginea pig, an' ye said yesterdah about +bicarbonate iv soda, an' if it washes up an' washes over, an' th' slimy, +slippery stuff, an' if a false tooth or a lock iv hair or a jawbone or a +goluf ball across th' cellar eleven feet nine inches—that is, two +inches this way an' five gallons that?' 'I agree with ye intirely,' says +th' profissor, 'I made lab'ratory experiments in an' ir'n basin, with +bichloride iv gool, which I will call soup-stock, an' coal tar, which I +will call ir'n filings. I mixed th' two over a hot fire, an' left in a +cool place to harden. I thin packed it in ice, which I will call glue, +an' rock-salt, which I will call fried eggs, an' obtained a dark, queer +solution that is a cure f'r freckles, which I will call antimony or +doughnuts or annything I blamed please.'</p> + +<p>"'But,' says th' lawyer f'r th' State, 'measurin' th' vat with gas,—an' +I lave it to ye whether this is not th' on'y fair test,—an' supposin' +that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span> two feet acrost is akel to tin feet sideways, an' supposin' that a +thick green an' hard substance, an' I daresay it wud; an' supposin' you +may, takin' into account th' measuremints,—twelve be eight,—th' vat +bein' wound with twine six inches fr'm th' handle an' a rub iv th' +green, thin ar-re not human teeth often found in counthry sausage?' 'In +th' winter,' says th' profissor. 'But th' sisymoid bone is sometimes +seen in th' fut, sometimes worn as a watch-charm. I took two sisymoid +bones, which I will call poker dice, an' shook thim together in a +cylinder, which I will call Fido, poored in a can iv milk, which I will +call gum arabic, took two pounds iv rough-on-rats, which I rayfuse to +call; but th' raysult is th' same.' Question be th' coort: 'Different?' +Answer: 'Yis.' Th' coort: 'Th' same.' Be Misther McEwen: 'Whose bones?' +Answer: 'Yis.' Be Misther Vincent: 'Will ye go to th' divvle?' Answer: +'It dissolves th' hair.'</p> + +<p>"Now what I want to know is where th' jury gets off. What has that +collection iv pure-minded pathrites to larn fr'm this here polite +discussion, where no wan is so crool as to ask what anny wan else means? +Thank th' Lord, whin th' case is all over, the jury'll pitch th' +tistimony out iv th' window, an' consider three questions: 'Did Lootgert +look as though he'd kill his wife? Did his wife look as though she ought +to be kilt? Isn't it time we wint to supper?' An', howiver they answer, +they'll be right, an' it'll make little diff'rence wan way or th' other. +Th' German vote is too large an' ignorant, annyhow."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>LECTURES ON ASTRONOMY</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">By John Phoenix</span></h3> + + +<h3><i>Introductory</i></h3> + +<p>The following pages were originally prepared in the form of a course of +Lectures to be delivered before the Lowell Institute, of Boston, Mass., +but, owing to the unexpected circumstance of the author's receiving no +invitation to lecture before that institution, they were laid aside +shortly after their completion.</p> + +<p>Receiving an invitation from the trustees of the Vallecetos Literary and +Scientific Institute, during the present summer, to deliver a course of +Lectures on any popular subject, the author withdrew his manuscript from +the dusty shelf on which it had long lain neglected, and, having +somewhat revised and enlarged it, to suit the capacity of the eminent +scholars before whom it was to be displayed, repaired to Vallecetos. +But, on arriving at that place, he learned with deep regret, that the +only inhabitant had left a few days previous, having availed himself of +the opportunity presented by a passing emigrant's horse,—and that, in +consequence, the opening of the Institute was indefinitely postponed. +Under these circumstances, and yielding with reluctance to the earnest +solicitations of many eminent scientific friends, he has been induced to +place the Lectures before the public in their present form. Should<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span> they +meet with that success which his sanguine friends prognosticate, the +author may be induced subsequently to publish them in the form of a +text-book, for the use of the higher schools and universities; it being +his greatest ambition to render himself useful in his day and generation +by widely disseminating the information he has acquired among those who, +less fortunate, are yet willing to receive instruction.</p> + + +<p style="text-align: right;">JOHN PHOENIX.</p> +<p> +<span class="smcap">San Diego Observatory</span>, September 1, 1854. +</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Lectures on Astronomy—Part I</span></h3> + +<h3>CHAPTER I</h3> + +<p>The term Astronomy is derived from two Latin words,—<i>Astra</i>, a star, +and <i>onomy</i>, a science; and literally means the science of the stars. +"It is a science," to quote our friend Dick (who was no relation at all +of Big Dick, though the latter occasionally caused individuals to see +stars), "which has, in all ages, engaged the attention of the poet, the +philosopher, and the divine, and been the subject of their study and +admiration."</p> + +<p>By the wondrous discoveries of the improved telescopes of modern times, +we ascertain that upward of several hundred millions of stars exist, +that are invisible to the naked eye—the nearest of which is millions of +millions of miles from the Earth; and as we have every reason to suppose +that every one of this inconceivable number of worlds is peopled like +our own, a consideration of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span> this fact—and that we are undoubtedly as +superior to these beings as we are to the rest of mankind—is calculated +to fill the mind of the American with a due sense of his own importance +in the scale of animated creation.</p> + +<p>It is supposed that each of the stars we see in the Heavens in a +cloudless night is a sun shining upon its own curvilinear, with light of +its own manufacture; and as it would be absurd to suppose its light and +heat were made to be diffused for nothing, it is presumed farther, that +each sun, like an old hen, is provided with a parcel of little chickens, +in the way of planets, which, shining but feebly by its reflected light, +are to us invisible. To this opinion we are led, also, by reasoning from +analogy, on considering our own Solar System.</p> + +<p><span class="smcap">The Solar System</span> is so called, not because we believe it to be the sole +system of the kind in existence, but from its principal body, the Sun, +the Latin name of which is <i>Sol</i>. (Thus we read of Sol Smith, literally +meaning the <i>son</i> of Old Smith.) On a close examination of the Heavens +we perceive numerous brilliant stars which shine with a steady light +(differing from those which surround them, which are always twinkling +like a dewdrop on a cucumber-vine), and which, moreover, do not preserve +constantly the same relative distance from the stars near which they are +first discovered. These are the planets of the <span class="smcap">Solar System</span>, which have +no light of their own—of which the Earth, on which we reside, is +one—which shine by light reflected from the Sun—and which regularly +move around that body at different intervals of time and through +different ranges in space. Up to the time of a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span> gentleman named +Copernicus, who flourished about the middle of the Fifteenth Century, it +was supposed by our stupid ancestors that the Earth was the center of +all creation, being a large, flat body resting on a rock which rested on +another rock, and so on "all the way down"; and that the Sun, planets +and immovable stars all revolved about it once in twenty-four hours.</p> + +<p>This reminds us of the simplicity of a child we once saw in a +railroad-car, who fancied itself perfectly stationary, and thought the +fences, houses and fields were tearing past it at the rate of thirty +miles an hour;—and poking out its head, to see where on earth they went +to, had its hat—a very nice one with pink ribbons—knocked off and +irrecoverably lost. But Copernicus (who was a son of Daniel Pernicus, of +the firm of Pernicus & Co., wool-dealers, and who was named Co. +Pernicus, out of respect to his father's partners) soon set this matter +to rights, and started the idea of the present Solar System, which, +greatly improved since his day, is occasionally called the Copernican +system. By this system we learn that the Sun is stationed at one <i>focus</i> +(not hocus, as it is rendered, without authority by the philosopher +Partington) of an ellipse, where it slowly grinds on for ever about its +own axis, while the planets, turning about their axes, revolve in +elliptical orbits of various dimensions and different planes of +inclination around it.</p> + +<p>The demonstration of this system in all its perfection was left to Isaac +Newton, an English Philosopher, who, seeing an apple tumble down from a +tree, was led to think thereon with such gravity, that he finally +discovered the attraction of gravitation, which proved to be the great +law<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span> of Nature that keeps everything in its place. Thus we see that as +an apple originally brought sin and ignorance into the world, the same +fruit proved thereafter the cause of vast knowledge and +enlightenment;—and indeed we may doubt whether any other fruit but an +apple, and a sour one at that, would have produced these great +results;—for, had the fallen fruit been a pear, an orange, or a peach, +there is little doubt that Newton would have eaten it up and thought no +more on the subject.</p> + +<p>As in this world you will hardly ever find a man so small but that he +has someone else smaller than he, to look up to and revolve around him, +so in the Solar System we find that the majority of the planets have one +or more smaller planets revolving about them. These small bodies are +termed secondaries, moons or satellites—the planets themselves being +called primaries.</p> + +<p>We know at present of eighteen primaries, viz.: Mercury, Venus, the +Earth, Mars, Flora, Vesta, Iris, Metis, Hebe, Astrea, Juno, Ceres, +Pallas, Hygeia, Jupiter, Saturn, Herschel, Neptune, and another, yet +unnamed. There are distributed among these, nineteen secondaries, all of +which, except our Moon, are invisible to the naked eye.</p> + +<p>We shall now proceed to consider, separately, the different bodies +composing the Solar System, and to make known what little information, +comparatively speaking, science has collected regarding them. And, first +in order, as in place, we come to</p> + + +<h4>THE SUN</h4> + +<p>This glorious orb may be seen almost any clear day, by looking intently +in its direction, through<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span> a piece of smoked glass. Through this medium +it appears about the size of a large orange, and of much the same color. +It is, however, somewhat larger, being in fact 887,000 miles in +diameter, and containing a volume of matter equal to fourteen hundred +thousand globes of the size of the Earth, which is certainly a matter of +no small importance. Through the telescope it appears like an enormous +globe of fire, with many spots upon its surface, which, unlike those of +the leopard, are continually changing. These spots were first discovered +by a gentleman named Galileo, in the year 1611. Though the Sun is +usually termed and considered the luminary of day, it may not be +uninteresting to our readers to know that it certainly has been seen in +the night. A scientific friend of ours from New England (Mr. R.W. +Emerson) while traveling through the northern part of Norway, with a +cargo of tinware, on the 21st of June, 1836, distinctly saw the Sun in +all its majesty, shining at midnight!—in fact, shining <i>all</i> night! +Emerson is not what you would call a superstitious man, by any +means—but, he left! Since that time many persons have observed its +nocturnal appearance in that part of the country, at the same time of +the year. This phenomenon has never been witnessed in the latitude of +San Diego, however, and it is very improbable that it ever will be. +Sacred history informs us that a distinguished military man, named +Joshua, once caused the Sun to "stand still"; how he did it, is not +mentioned. There can, of course, be no doubt of the fact, that he +arrested its progress, and possibly caused it to "stand <i>still</i>";—but +translators are not always perfectly accurate, and we<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span> are inclined to +the opinion that it might have wiggled a very little, when Joshua was +not looking directly at it. The statement, however, does not appear so +very incredible, when we reflect that seafaring men are in the habit of +actually <i>bringing the Sun down</i> to the horizon every day at 12 +Meridian. This they effect by means of a tool made of brass, glass, and +silver, called a sextant. The composition of the Sun has long been a +matter of dispute.</p> + +<p>By close and accurate observation with an excellent opera-glass we have +arrived at the conclusion that its entire surface is covered with water +to a very great depth; which water, being composed by a process known at +present only to the Creator of the Universe and Mr. Paine, of Worcester, +Massachusetts, generates carburetted hydrogen gas, which, being +inflamed, surrounds the entire body with an ocean of fire, from which +we, and the other planets, receive our light and heat. The spots upon +its surface are glimpses of water, obtained through the fire; and we +call the attention of our old friend and former schoolmate, Mr. Agassiz, +to this fact; as by closely observing one of these spots with a strong +refracting telescope he may discover a new species of fish, with little +fishes inside of them. It is possible that the Sun may burn out after a +while, which would leave this world in a state of darkness quite +uncomfortable to contemplate; but even under these circumstances it is +pleasant to reflect that courting and love-making would probably +increase to an indefinite extent, and that many persons would make large +fortunes by the sudden rise in value of coal, wood, candles, and gas, +which would go to illustrate the truth of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span> the old proverb, "It's an ill +wind that blows nobody any good."</p> + +<p>Upon the whole, the Sun is a glorious creation; pleasing to gaze upon +(through smoked glass), elevating to think upon, and exceedingly +comfortable to every created being on a cold day; it is the largest, the +brightest, and may be considered by far the most magnificent object in +the celestial sphere; though with all these attributes it must be +confessed that it is occasionally entirely eclipsed by the moon.</p> + + +<h3>CHAPTER II</h3> + +<p>We shall now proceed to the consideration of the several planets.</p> + + +<h4>MERCURY</h4> + +<p>This planet, with the exception of the asteroids, is the smallest of the +system. It is the nearest to the Sun, and, in consequence, can not be +seen (on account of the Sun's superior light), except at its greatest +eastern and western elongations, which occur in March and April, August +and September, when it may be seen for a short time immediately after +sunset and shortly before sunrise. It then appears like a star of the +first magnitude, having a white twinkling light, and resembling somewhat +the star Regulus in the constellation Leo. The day in Mercury is about +ten minutes longer than ours, its year is about equal to three of our +months. It receives six and a half times as much heat from the Sun as we +do; from which we conclude that the climate must be very similar to that +of Fort Yuma,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span> on the Colorado River. The difficulty of communication +with Mercury will probably prevent its ever being selected as a military +post; though it possesses many advantages for that purpose, being +extremely inaccessible, inconvenient, and, doubtless, singularly +uncomfortable. It receives its name from the God, Mercury, in the +Heathen Mythology, who is the patron and tutelary Divinity of San Diego +County.</p> + + +<h4>VENUS</h4> + +<p>This beautiful planet may be seen either a little after sunset or +shortly before sunrise, according as it becomes the morning or the +evening star, but never departing quite forty-eight degrees from the +Sun. Its day is about twenty-five minutes shorter than ours; its year +seven and a half months or thirty-two weeks. The diameter of Venus is +7,700 miles, and she receives from the Sun thrice as much light and heat +as the Earth.</p> + +<p>An old Dutchman named Schroeter spent more than ten years in +observations on this planet, and finally discovered a mountain on it +twenty-two miles in height, but he never could discover anything on the +mountain, not even a mouse, and finally died about as wise as when he +commenced his studies.</p> + +<p>Venus, in Mythology, was a Goddess of singular beauty, who became the +wife of Vulcan, the blacksmith, and, we regret to add, behaved in the +most immoral manner after her marriage. The celebrated case of Vulcan +<i>vs.</i> Mars, and the consequent scandal, is probably still fresh in the +minds of our readers. By a large portion of so<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span>ciety, however, she was +considered an ill-used and persecuted lady, against whose high tone of +morals and strictly virtuous conduct not a shadow of suspicion could be +cast; Vulcan, by the same parties, was considered a horrid brute, and +they all agreed that it served him right when he lost his case and had +to pay the costs of court. Venus still remains the Goddess of Beauty, +and not a few of her <i>protégés</i> may be found in California.</p> + + +<h4>THE EARTH</h4> + +<p>The Earth, or as the Latins called it, Tellus (from which originated the +expression, "Do tell us"), is the third planet in the Solar System, and +the one on which we subsist, with all our important joys and sorrows. +The San Diego Herald is published weekly on this planet, for five +dollars per annum, payable invariably in advance. As the Earth is by no +means the most important planet in the system, there is no reason to +suppose that it is particularly distinguished from the others by being +inhabited. It is reasonable, therefore, to conclude that all the other +planets of the system are filled with living, moving and sentient +beings; and as some of them are superior to the Earth in size and +position, it is not improbable that their inhabitants may be superior to +us in physical and mental organization.</p> + +<p>But if this were a demonstrable fact, instead of a mere hypothesis, it +would be found a very difficult matter to persuade us of its truth. To +the inhabitants of Venus the Earth appears like a brilliant star—very +much, in fact, as Venus appears to us; and, reasoning from analogy, we<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span> +are led to believe that the election of Mr. Pierce, the European war, or +the split in the great Democratic party produced but very little +excitement among them.</p> + +<p>To the inhabitants of Jupiter, our important globe appears like a small +star of the fourth or fifth magnitude. We recollect, some years ago, +gazing with astonishment upon the inhabitants of a drop of water, +developed by the Solar Microscope, and secretly wondering whether they +were or not reasoning beings, with souls to be saved. It is not +altogether a pleasant reflection that a highly scientific inhabitant of +Jupiter, armed with a telescope of (to us) inconceivable form, may be +pursuing a similar course of inquiry, and indulging in similar +speculations regarding our Earth and its inhabitants. Gazing with +curious eye, his attention is suddenly attracted by the movements of a +grand celebration of Fourth of July in New York, or a mighty convention +in Baltimore. "God bless my soul," he exclaims, "I declare they're +alive, these little creatures; do see them wriggle!" To an inhabitant of +the Sun, however, he of Jupiter is probably quite as insignificant, and +the Sun man is possibly a mere atom in the opinion of a dweller in +Sirius. A little reflection on these subjects leads to the opinion that +the death of an individual man on this Earth, though perhaps as +important an event as can occur to himself, is calculated to cause no +great convulsion of Nature or disturb particularly the great aggregate +of created beings.</p> + +<p>The Earth moves round the Sun from west to east in a year, and turns on +its axis in a day; thus moving at the rate of 68,000 miles an hour in +its orbit, and rolling around at the tolerably<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span> rapid rate of 1,040 +miles per hour. As our readers may have seen that when a man is +galloping a horse violently over a smooth road, if the horse from +viciousness or other cause suddenly stops, the man keeps on at the same +rate over the animal's head; so we, supposing the Earth to be suddenly +arrested on its axis, men, women, children, horses, cattle and sheep, +donkeys, editors and members of Congress, with all our goods and +chattels, would be thrown off into the air at a speed of 173 miles a +minute, every mother's son of us describing the arc of a parabola, which +is probably the only description we should ever be able to give of the +affair.</p> + +<p>This catastrophe, to one sufficiently collected to enjoy it, would, +doubtless, be exceedingly amusing; but as there would probably be no +time for laughing, we pray that it may not occur until after our demise; +when, should it take place, our monument will probably accompany the +movement. It is a singular fact that if a man travel round the Earth in +an eastwardly direction he will find, on returning to the place of +departure, he has gained one whole day; the reverse of this proposition +being true also, it follows that the Yankees who are constantly +traveling to the West do not live as long by a day or two as they would +if they had stayed at home; and supposing each Yankee's time to be worth +$1.50 per day, it may be easily shown that a considerable amount of +money is annually lost by their roving dispositions.</p> + +<p>Science is yet but in its infancy; with its growth, new discoveries of +an astounding nature will doubtless be made, among which, probably, will +be some method by which the course of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span> Earth may be altered and it +be steered with the same ease and regularity through space and among the +stars as a steamboat is now directed through the water. It will be a +very interesting spectacle to see the Earth "rounding to," with her head +to the air, off Jupiter, while the Moon is sent off laden with mails and +passengers for that planet, to bring back the return mails and a large +party of rowdy Jupiterians going to attend a grand prize fight in the +ring of Saturn.</p> + +<p>Well, Christopher Columbus would have been just as much astonished at a +revelation of the steamboat and the locomotive engine as we should be to +witness the above performance, which our intelligent posterity during +the ensuing year A.D. 2000 will possibly look upon as a very ordinary +and common-place affair.</p> + +<p>Only three days ago we asked a medium where Sir John Franklin was at +that time; to which he replied, he was cruising about (officers and crew +all well) on the interior of the Earth, to which he had obtained +entrance through <span class="smcap">Symmes Hole</span>!</p> + +<p>With a few remarks upon the Earth's Satellite, we conclude the first +Lecture on Astronomy; the remainder of the course being contained in a +second Lecture, treating of the planets, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn and +Neptune, the Asteroids, and the fixed stars, which last, being +"fixings," are, according to Mr. Charles Dickens, American property.</p> + + +<h4>THE MOON</h4> + +<p>This resplendent luminary, like a youth on the Fourth of July, has its +first quarter; like a ruined<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span> spendthrift its last quarter, and like an +omnibus, is occasionally full and new. The evenings on which it appears +between these last stages are beautifully illumined by its clear, mellow +light.</p> + +<p>The Moon revolves in an elliptical orbit about the Earth in twenty-nine +days twelve hours forty-four minutes and three seconds, the time which +elapses between one new Moon and another. It was supposed by the ancient +philosophers that the Moon was made of green cheese, an opinion still +entertained by the credulous and ignorant. Kepler and Tyco Brahe, +however, held to the opinion that it was composed of Charlotte Russe, +the dark portions of its surface being sponge cake, the light <i>blanc +mange</i>. Modern advances in science and the use of Lord Rosse's famous +telescope have demonstrated the absurdity of all these speculations by +proving conclusively that the Moon is mainly composed of the +<i>Ferro</i>—<i>sesqui</i>—<i>cyanuret, of the cyanide of potassium</i>! Up to the +latest dates from the Atlantic States, no one has succeeded in reaching +the Moon. Should anyone do so hereafter, it will probably be a woman, as +the sex will never cease making an exertion for that purpose as long as +there is a man in it.</p> + +<p>Upon the whole, we may consider the Moon an excellent institution, among +the many we enjoy under a free, republican form of government, and it is +a blessed thing to reflect that the President of the United States can +not <i>veto</i> it, no matter how strong an inclination he may feel, from +principle or habit, to do so.</p> + +<p>It has been ascertained beyond a doubt that the Moon has no air. +Consequently, the common expressions, "the Moon was gazing down<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span> with an +air of benevolence," or with "an air of complacency," or with "an air of +calm superiority," are incorrect and objectionable, the fact being that +the Moon has no air at all.</p> + +<p>The existence of the celebrated "Man in the Moon" has been frequently +questioned by modern philosophers. The whole subject is involved in +doubt and obscurity. The only authority we have for believing that such +an individual exists, and has been seen and spoken with, is a fragment +of an old poem composed by an ancient Astronomer of the name of Goose, +which has been handed down to us as follows:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The man in the Moon came down too soon<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To inquire the way to Norwich;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The man in the South, he burned his mouth,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Eating cold, hot porridge."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>The evidence conveyed in this distich is, however, rejected by the +skeptical, among modern Astronomers, who consider the passage an +allegory. "The man in the South," being supposed typical of the late +John C. Calhoun, and the "cold, hot porridge," alluded to the project of +nullification.</p> + +<h3>END OF LECTURE FIRST</h3> + + +<div class="blockquot"><p><span class="smcap">Note by the Author</span>—Itinerant Lecturers are cautioned against +making use of the above production, without obtaining the necessary +authority from the proprietors of the Pioneer Magazine. To those +who may obtain such authority, it may be well to state that at the +close of the Lecture it was the intention of the author to exhibit +and explain to the audience an orrery, accompanying and +interspersing his remarks by a choice selection of popular airs on +the hand-organ.</p> + +<p>An economical orrery may be constructed by attaching eighteen wires +of graduated lengths to the shaft of a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span> candlestick, apples of +different sizes being placed at their extremities to represent the +Planets, and a central orange resting on the candlestick, +representing the Sun.</p> + +<p>An orrery of this description is, however, liable to the objection +that if handed around among the audience for examination, it is +seldom returned uninjured. The author has known an instance in +which a child four years of age, on an occasion of this kind, +devoured in succession the planets Jupiter and Herschel, and bit a +large spot out of the Sun before he could be arrested.</p> + +<p style="text-align: right;">J.P.</p></div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>AT AUNTY'S HOUSE</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">By James Whitcomb Riley</span></h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">One time, when we'z at Aunty's house—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">'Way in the country!—where<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They's ist but woods—an' pigs, an' cows—<br /></span> +<span class="i1">An' all's out-doors an' air!—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' orchurd-swing; an' churry-trees—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' <i>churries</i> in 'em!—Yes, an' these-<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Here red-head birds steals all they please,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An' tetch 'em ef you dare!—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">W'y, wunst, one time, when we wuz there,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>We et out on the porch</i>!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Wite where the cellar-door wuz shut<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The table wuz; an' I<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Let Aunty set by me an' cut<br /></span> +<span class="i2">My vittuls up—an' pie.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tuz awful funny!—I could see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The red-heads in the churry-tree;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' bee-hives, where you got to be<br /></span> +<span class="i2">So keerful, goin' by;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' "Comp'ny" there an' all!—an' we—<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>We et out on the porch</i>!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">An' I ist et <i>p'surves</i> an' things<br /></span> +<span class="i2">'At Ma don't 'low me to—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' <i>chickun-gizzurds</i>—(don't like <i>wings</i><br /></span> +<span class="i2">Like <i>Parunts</i> does! do <i>you</i>?)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' all the time, the wind blowed there,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' I could feel it in my hair,</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">An' ist smell clover <i>ever</i>'where!—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An' a' old red-head flew<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Purt' nigh wite over my high-chair,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>When we et on the porch</i>!<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span></div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>WILLY AND THE LADY</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">By Gelett Burgess</span></h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Leave the lady, Willy, let the racket rip,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She is going to fool you, you have lost your grip,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Your brain is in a muddle and your heart is in a whirl,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come along with me, Willy, never mind the girl!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">Come and have a man-talk;<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Come with those who <i>can</i> talk;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Light your pipe and listen, and the boys will see you through;<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Love is only chatter,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Friends are all that matter;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come and talk the man-talk; that's the cure for you!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Leave the lady, Willy, let her letter wait,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You'll forget your troubles when you get it straight,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The world is full of women, and the women full of wile;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come along with me, Willy, we can make you smile!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">Come and have a man-talk,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">A rousing black-and-tan talk,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">There are plenty there to teach you; there's a lot for you to do;</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i8">Your head must stop its whirling<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Before you go a-girling;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come and talk the man-talk; that's the cure for you!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Leave the lady, Willy, the night is good and long,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Time for beer and 'baccy, time to have a song;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where the smoke is swirling, sorrow if you can—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come along with me, Willy, come and be a man!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">Come and have a man-talk,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Come with those who <i>can</i> talk,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Light your pipe and listen, and the boys will see you through;<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Love is only chatter,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Friends are all that matter;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come and talk the man-talk; that's the cure for you!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Leave the lady, Willy, you are rather young;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When the tales are over, when the songs are sung,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When the men have made you, try the girl again;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come along with me, Willy, you'll be better then!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i8">Come and have a man-talk,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Forget your girl-divan talk;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You've got to get acquainted with another point of view!<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Girls will only fool you;<br /></span> +<span class="i8">We're the ones to school you;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come and talk the man-talk; that's the cure for you!<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span></div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>THE ITINERANT TINKER</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">By Charles Raymond Macauley</span></h3> + + +<p>Away off in front, and coming toward them along the same path, appeared +a singularly misshapen figure. As they came nearer, Dickey saw that it +was an old man carrying on his back, at each side and in front of him, +some part or piece of almost every imaginable thing. Umbrellas, chair +bottoms, panes of glass, knives, forks, pans, dusters, tubs, spoons and +stove-lids, graters and grind-stones, saws and samovars,—"Almost +everything one could possibly think of," said Dickey to himself.</p> + +<p>The moment that the Fantasm caught sight of the strange figure he +stopped, and Dickey noticed that his face, which was tucked securely +under his left arm, turned quite pale.</p> + +<p>"Gracious me!" he exclaimed in a thoroughly frightened way. "There's the +Itinerant Tinker again! Now," he added hastily and dolefully, "I shall +have to leave you and run for it."</p> + +<p>"Why, you're surely not afraid of <i>him</i>!" Dickey exclaimed +incredulously. Dickey was really surprised, for the old man, so far as +he could judge from that distance, wore an extremely mild and kindly +look. "Why do you have to run?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Why? <i>Why?</i>" the Fantasm fairly shouted. "I told you a moment ago that +he was the <i>Itinerant Tinker</i>! He tries to mend every<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span> broken and +unbroken thing in Fantasma Land! Every time he catches me," went on the +Fantasm, as he edged cautiously away, "he tries to glue on my head. It's +very annoying—and, besides, it hurts! Good-by, Dickey!" he called, and +disappeared forthwith into the bushes.</p> + +<p>"Isn't he a droll person?" thought Dickey. "He never stops with me more +than ten minutes at a time but what he either loses his head or runs +away."</p> + +<p>By that time the Itinerant Tinker had come up to where Dickey stood. He +sat wearily down on a boulder by the wayside, removed some of the +heavier merchandise from off his back, and proceeded to mop his face +vigorously with a great red handkerchief. Dickey waited several minutes +for the old man to speak; but the Itinerant Tinker only regarded him +solemnly. He did not even smile.</p> + +<p>"It's very warm work, sir," ventured Dickey, at last, "carrying all that +stuff—isn't it?"</p> + +<p>"Stuff?" returned the Itinerant Tinker, in a very mild, but unmistakably +hurt tone of voice.</p> + +<p>"Well—" Dickey hesitated timidly.</p> + +<p>"<i>Don't</i> call them stuff, please," sighed the Itinerant Tinker; "call +them necessary commodities."</p> + +<p>"But whatever one <i>does</i> call them," Dickey persisted, "they still make +you warm to carry them all about, don't they?"</p> + +<p>The Itinerant Tinker nodded his head and sighed again.</p> + +<p>Again Dickey waited for a considerable space of time. But the old man +would have been perfectly content to sit there for ever, Dickey thought, +without speaking. "I <i>do</i> wish he would<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span> talk," said he to himself. +"It's awfully annoying to have him sit there and look at one without +saying a word."</p> + +<p>"What do you mend, sir?" Dickey inquired at last.</p> + +<p>"I tried once," sighed the Itinerant Tinker, sadly, "to mend the break +of day. It took me twenty-seven hours and eleven minutes to fix it, and +it broke every twenty-four. At that rate how long would it take to patch +them all together?"</p> + +<p>Another distressing silence.</p> + +<p>"Have you figured <i>that</i> out?" whispered the Itinerant Tinker at length.</p> + +<p>"I haven't tried," Dickey admitted.</p> + +<p>"<i>I</i> tried once," the Itinerant Tinker said, "but I ran out of paper and +gave it up. Then, when the night fell," he resumed dolefully, after +another long interval of silence, "I tried to prop it up. But I met with +the same difficulty that confronted me in patching up the day, and was +forced to abandon <i>that</i> too."</p> + +<p>"In which direction were you going when I met you?" Dickey asked.</p> + +<p>The Itinerant Tinker pointed ahead of him along the path and mopped his +bald head.</p> + +<p>"But where?" insisted Dickey.</p> + +<p>"To the Crypt. I was going to the Crypt," murmured the Itinerant Tinker, +"to see whether I couldn't get some umbrellas to mend."</p> + +<p>"But they don't need umbrellas in the Crypt, do they?" Dickey asked, +surprised.</p> + +<p>"No, they don't," sighed the Itinerant Tinker; "and <i>that's</i> the reason +I'm going there."</p> + +<p>"If you don't mind," said Dickey, "I should like to go with you."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span></p> + +<p>Without a word of reply the Itinerant Tinker rose slowly and painfully +to his feet, rearranged on his back the merchandise he had laid aside, +and started off up the hill, with Dickey following closely at his heels.</p> + +<p>"I tried to mend the Great Dipper once," resumed the Itinerant Tinker, +at length. "I only succeeded, however, in crooking the handle; but it +looks better that way, I think."</p> + +<p>"How did you manage to reach it?" asked Dickey, a little doubtfully.</p> + +<p>"I climbed up the Milky Way," replied the Itinerant Tinker, sadly. "In +order to reach it after I got there, I was obliged to stand on the horn +of the moon. It was a very perilous undertaking."</p> + +<p>Dickey couldn't believe quite all that the Itinerant Tinker was telling +him. But his mild and gentle eyes wore such a serious expression that he +very much disliked to doubt the old man's word.</p> + +<p>"Speaking of the moon," went on the Itinerant Tinker after a while, "I +tried once to make her stand up—after she had set, you know. It proved +a thankless task. She treated me very rudely, indeed. By the by, have +you seen the Flighty-wight?"</p> + +<p>"No, sir; I have not," replied Dickey.</p> + +<p>"<i>He's</i> always jumping at conclusions, you know. I jumped at a +conclusion once, fell into disgrace, and was very much cut up over it. I +tried to patch <i>him</i> up and he called me an old meddler! You haven't +heard of such ingratitude before, I fancy?"</p> + +<p>"It was very mean of him, I think," said Dickey, sympathetically.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, <i>that's</i> nothing," pursued the Itinerant Tinker, in a melancholy +tone. "That's <i>nothing</i>! I once attempted to solder a new tip on the +Wizard's wand. He turned me into a rabbit, <i>he</i> did."</p> + +<p>"Whatever did you do then?" asked Dickey.</p> + +<p>"I protested, of course. He merely said that he was only making game of +me. But if there's any one thing that I can do better than another," +went on the Itinerant Tinker, after another embarrassing pause, "it's +piecing together a split infinitive. Would you like me to show you how +it's done?"</p> + +<p>"Indeed, I should," Dickey eagerly answered; "very much, indeed."</p> + +<p>"Very well, then. Just give me time to set down these necessary +commodities, and I'll show you exactly the manner in which it's done and +undone."</p> + +<p>After he had rid himself of his awkward burden, the Itinerant Tinker +carefully selected a saw from his kit of tools.</p> + +<p>"Is that a log over there?" he asked, pointing toward a mound of earth. +"I'm a trifle nearsighted, you know."</p> + +<p>"No," Dickey replied. "But there's one off there, just to the other +side. A big one, too."</p> + +<p>"The identical thing," said the Itinerant Tinker. Whereupon he walked +over to it and immediately began sawing a thin slab from off its smooth +end.</p> + +<p>"Now," said he, after he had finished the rather difficult task, oiled +his saw and returned it to his kit, "I proceed to write the word <span class="smcap">love</span> in +the infinitive mood."</p> + +<p>"Is that a sad mood?" asked Dickey. "It sounds very much like it, I +think."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span></p> + +<p>Without heeding the question in the least the Itinerant Tinker turned +the slab for Dickey's inspection, and he read on it the two words, <span class="smcap">to +love</span>. Taking up a wedge the Itinerant Tinker printed the word <span class="smcap">dearly</span> on +the flat side of it, and then skilfully drove it between the words <span class="smcap">to</span> +and <span class="smcap">love</span>. When he again held it up for Dickey to see, it read: <span class="smcap">to dearly +love</span>.</p> + +<p>"There!" exclaimed the Itinerant Tinker, holding the slab proudly at +arm's length and turning his head slowly from side to side, "that's what +I call a fine bit of ingenuity!"</p> + +<p>"So that's a split infinitive, is it?" Dickey asked.</p> + +<p>"Why, you <i>stupid</i> boy!" the Itinerant Tinker exclaimed; "didn't you +just this minute see me split it?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir; I did," Dickey murmured rather shamefacedly.</p> + +<p>"Then, if I <i>split</i> it, what else <i>could</i> it be but a split infinitive, +I'd like to know?"</p> + +<p>"Well," said Dickey, a bit timidly, "I never heard a block of wood +called an <i>infinitive</i> before."</p> + +<p>"Oh, my!" sighed the Itinerant Tinker, as he sank down on his pile of +merchandise. "How you <i>do</i> weary me!"</p> + +<p>He sat looking at the slab of wood for such a long time, turning it +admiringly now that way, now this, that poor Dickey began to grow quite +nervous.</p> + +<p>"Please," he ventured at last, "won't you show me now how you mend it?" +Dickey didn't care in the least to see it done, but he imagined that by +asking the question he would regain the good will of the old man.</p> + +<p>"There you go again! There you go!" ex<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span>claimed the Itinerant Tinker. He +actually shed a tear. "I knew you'd do it—I knew it!"</p> + +<p>"Now what have I done?" asked Dickey, innocently.</p> + +<p>"You've broken the silence," said the Itinerant Tinker, sadly. "It'll +take me hours and hours to glue <i>that</i> together. But first," he went on, +after another long pause, "I'll show you how neatly this split +infinitive can be mended."</p> + +<p>Thereupon he withdrew the wedge, dipped a brush into a pot of glue, and, +after distributing the sticky fluid over the split sides, brought them +carefully and neatly together.</p> + +<p>"There!" he exclaimed, triumphantly, "<i>that's</i> the proper way to bring +together a split infinitive. Beware, my boy, of splitting your +infinitives; but if you do, call on the Itinerant Tinker and <i>he'll</i> +straighten 'em out for you."</p> + +<p>"Before we move along," he resumed, after he had loaded himself with his +merchandise, "perhaps you'd like to listen to a story?"</p> + +<p>"I should, if it wasn't about split infinitives," replied Dickey, +doubtfully. "They really make me quite dizzy."</p> + +<p>"Well, it's not," said the Itinerant Tinker, smiling vaguely. "It's the +story of the</p> + +<h3>PEDANTIC PEDAGOGUE</h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I saw him sitting—sitting there,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Outside the school-house door,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It was a dismal afternoon;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The hour was half-past four.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I asked him, 'Sir, what is your name?'<br /></span> +<span class="i2">His voice came through the fog:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'I have forgotten it, kind sir,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">But I'm a Pedagogue.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span><br /> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"'And I'm so absent-minded, sir,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I put my clothes to bed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And hang myself upon a chair;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Is not that odd?' he said.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"'And every morning of my life<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I climb into my tub;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Then wonder why I'm sitting there.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ah, me, man! <i>that's</i> the rub!'<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"He wiped his spectacles and said:<br /></span> +<span class="i2">'Kind sir, observe this frog.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I took him in this net, when he<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Was but a pollywog.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"'Now it's my wish, good sir, to seek<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The seismocosmic state;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And why this strange amphibian<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Should slowly gravitate<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"'From a mere firmisternial thing<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To—' 'Say!' I cried, 'please wait!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I can not understand a word<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Of that which you relate.'<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"'Now, please tell me,' he said again,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">'The sum of the equation<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Between the harp and hippogriff;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Define their true relation.'<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"'I can not answer you,' I said,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">'Because I'm but a tinker.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But I can mend your old umbrel';<br /></span> +<span class="i2">'Twill be a dime, I think, sir.'<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Just then the frog dived off his hand<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And swam out to the fence,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which was an easy thing to do—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The vapor was so dense.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And there he perched upon a post;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">It was a sight to see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The way he made grimaces at<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The Pedagogue and me.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"It vexed us very much to see<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A frog so impolite</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">I flung a gnarly stick at him—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Flung it with all my might.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"It floated softly on the fog.<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As softly as a feather;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The frog jumped on and sailed away,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Leaving us there together<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"A-shaking both our fists at him<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Till they were sore and numb.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The bull-frog merely blinked at us,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And sang: '<i>You'll drown!</i> <span class="smcap">Bottle-o'-Rum</span>!'<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"With that I left the Pedagogue<br /></span> +<span class="i2">A-sitting in the wet.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He was so absent-minded, I<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Dare say he's sitting yet—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Upon the little school-house steps,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Revolving in his mind<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The definite relation 'twixt<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The cosmos and mankind."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>When the Itinerant Tinker had finished his story he rose wearily to his +feet.</p> + +<p>"If we don't hurry along," he said, "I doubt whether we shall reach the +Crypt in time to take our tea. I never—"</p> + +<p>He was interrupted at this point by a shrill voice, coming, it seemed, +from the direction of the forest.</p> + +<p>"Jingle-junk! jingle-junk! jingle-junk!" shouted the penetrating voice.</p> + +<p>The Itinerant Tinker stopped instantly. An angry frown gathered on his +brow.</p> + +<p>"I know who <i>that</i> is," he muttered. "It's Wamba, son of Witless, the +Jester of Ivanhoe. I've been trying to catch <i>him</i> for seventy-two +years, and if I do, I'll—"</p> + +<p>Dickey never heard the end of the sentence for the Itinerant Tinker made +for the wood at a sur<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span>prisingly swift gait. The incident had its really +amusing side, too; for he left behind him a trail of pots, pans, +boilers, stove-lids, potato-mashers—in fact, Dickey thought, he must +have dropped almost all of his "necessary commodities" by the time he +had vanished into the wood.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>THE STRIKE OF ONE</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">By Elliott Flower</span></h3> + + +<p>Danny Burke was discharged.</p> + +<p>A certain distinguished ex-President of the United States probably would +have said that he was discharged for "pernicious activity"; but the head +of the branch messenger-office merely said that he was "an infernal +nuisance."</p> + +<p>Danny was a good union man. As a matter of fact, he was a boy, and a +small boy at that; but he would have scorned any description that did +not put him down as "a good union man." Danny's environment had been one +of uncompromising unionism, and that was what ailed him. He wanted to +advance the union idea. To this end, he undertook to organize the other +messengers in the branch office, advancing all the arguments that he had +heard his mother and his father use in their discussions. The boys +thought favorably of the scheme, but most of them were inclined to let +some one else do the experimenting. It might result disastrously. Just +to encourage them, Danny became insolent, as he had already become +inattentive; he told the manager what he would do and what he would not +do, and positively declined to deliver a message that would carry his +work a few minutes beyond quitting-time.</p> + +<p>Then Danny was discharged—and he laughed.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span> Discharge <i>him</i>! Well, he'd +show them a thing or two.</p> + +<p>"We'll arbitrate," he announced.</p> + +<p>"Get out!" ordered the manager.</p> + +<p>"You got to arbitrate," insisted Danny. "You got to confer with your men +or you're goin' to have a strike!" Danny had heard so much about +conferences that he felt he was on safe ground now. "We can't stand fer +no autycrats!" he added. "You got to meet your men fair an' talk it +over. A committee—"</p> + +<p>"Get out!" repeated the manager, rising from his desk, near which the +waiting boys were seated.</p> + +<p>"Men," yelled Danny, "I calls a strike an' a boycott!"</p> + +<p>Two of the boys rose as if to follow him, but the manager was too quick. +He had Danny by the collar before Danny knew what had happened, and the +struggling boy was marched to the door and pushed out. The boys who had +risen promptly subsided.</p> + +<p>Danny was too astonished for words. In all his extended hearsay +knowledge of strikes he never had heard of anything like this. There was +nothing heroic in it at all. He had expected a conference, and, instead, +he was ignominiously handled and thrust into the street.</p> + +<p>Danny sat down on a pile of paving-stones to think it over. Without +reasoning the matter out, he now regarded himself as a union. The other +members had deserted him, but he was on a strike; and somehow he had +absorbed the idea that the men who were striking were always the union +men. So, this being a strike of one, he was an entire union. It did not +take him long<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span> to decide that the first thing to do was to "picket the +plant." That was a familiar phrase, and he knew the meaning of it. +Everything was nicely arranged for him, too. The street was being paved, +and he was sitting on some paving-stones, with a pile of gravel beside +him. He selected fifteen or twenty of the largest stones from the +gravel-pile.</p> + +<p>A woman was the first victim. As she was about to enter the +messenger-office she was startled by a yell of warning from Danny.</p> + +<p>"Hey, you!" he shouted. "Keep out!"</p> + +<p>She backed away hastily, and looked up to see if anything were about to +fall on her.</p> + +<p>"Why should I keep out?" she asked at last.</p> + +<p>"'Cause you'll git hit with a rock if you don't," was the prompt reply.</p> + +<p>"But, little boy—" she began.</p> + +<p>"I ain't a little boy," asserted Danny. "I'm a union."</p> + +<p>The woman looked puzzled, but she finally decided that this was some +boyish joke.</p> + +<p>"You'd better run home," she said, and turned to enter the +messenger-office. She could not refrain from looking over her shoulder, +however, and she saw that he was poised for a throw.</p> + +<p>"Don't do that!" she cried hastily. "You might hurt me."</p> + +<p>"Sure I'll hurt you," was the reply. "I'll smash your block in if you +don't git a move on."</p> + +<p>The woman decided to look for another messenger-office, and Danny, +triumphant, resumed his seat on the paving-stones.</p> + +<p>Then came another messenger, returning from a trip.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter, Danny?" he asked.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Got the plant picketed," asserted Danny. "Nobody can't go in or come +out."</p> + +<p>"I'm goin' in," said the other boy.</p> + +<p>"You!" exclaimed Danny scornfully, as he suddenly caught the boy and +swung him over on to the stones.</p> + +<p>"No, I ain't, Danny," the boy hastened to say, for Danny gave every +evidence of an intent to batter in his face.</p> + +<p>"Sure?" asked Danny.</p> + +<p>"Honest."</p> + +<p>"This here's a strike," explained Danny.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I didn't know that," apologized the boy. "I ain't a +strike-breaker."</p> + +<p>Danny let him up, but made him sit on another pile of stones a short +distance away. He would be all right as long as he kept still, Danny +explained, but no longer.</p> + +<p>While Danny was continuing strike operations with rapidly growing +enthusiasm, the woman he had first stopped was taking an unexpected part +in the little comedy. She had gone to another of the branch offices with +the message she wished delivered, and had told of the trouble she had +experienced. Thereupon the manager of this office called up the manager +of the other on the telephone.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter over there?" he asked.</p> + +<p>"Nothing," was the surprised reply. "Who said there was?"</p> + +<p>"Why, a woman has just reported that she was driven away by a boy with a +pile of stones."</p> + +<p>The manager hastened to the window, and realized at once that something +was decidedly wrong. On a pile of paving-stones directly in front of the +door sat the proud and happy Danny.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span> At his feet there was a pile of +smaller stones, and he held a few in his hands. On his right was a boy +who had started on a trip a short time before, and on his left was one +who should have reported back. A man was gesticulating excitedly, a +number of others and some boys were laughing, and Danny seemed to be +intimating that any one who tried to enter would be hurt.</p> + +<p>"Jim," said the manager to the largest messenger, "go out there and see +what's the matter with Danny Burke. Tell him I'll have him arrested if +he doesn't get out."</p> + +<p>Danny was a wise general. He wanted no prisoners that he could not +handle easily, and this big boy would be dangerous to have within his +lines. The big boy was a sort of star messenger, who did not fraternize +with Danny anyhow. Consequently Danny fired a volley the moment he saw +who it was, and the big boy hastily retreated, bearing with him one bump +on the forehead.</p> + +<p>"That's Jim," Danny explained to the increasing crowd. "He's the +biggest, next to the boss. Watch me nail the boss."</p> + +<p>"You're the stuff!" exclaimed some of the delighted loiterers, thus +proving that the loiterers are just as anxious to see trouble in a small +strike as in a large one.</p> + +<p>Danny picked out a stone considerably larger than the others, for he +expected the manager to appear next, and the manager had incurred his +personal enmity. In the case of his victims thus far, he had acted +merely on principle—to win his point.</p> + +<p>The manager appeared. For his own prestige (necessary to maintain +discipline), the manager<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span> had to do something, but he felt reasonably +sure that the dignity of his official position would make Danny less +hasty and strenuous than he had been with others. The manager planned to +extend the olive branch and at the same time raise the siege by +beckoning Danny in, so that he might reason with him and show him how +surely he would land in a police station if he would not consent to be a +good boy. This would be quicker and better than summoning an officer. +But the manager got the big stone in the pit of his stomach just as he +had raised his hand to beckon, and he and his dignity collapsed +together, with a most plebeian grunt. As he had not closed the door, he +quickly rolled inside, where he lay on the floor with his hands on his +stomach and listened to the joyous yelps of the crowd outside. This was +too much for the manager.</p> + +<p>"Call up police headquarters," he said, still holding his stomach as if +fearful that it might become detached, "and tell them there's a riot +here."</p> + +<p>The boy addressed obeyed literally.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile Danny had decided that, as victory perched on his banners, it +was time to state the terms on which he would permit the enemy to +surrender, but he was too wise to put himself in the enemy's power +before these terms were settled.</p> + +<p>"Go in, Tim," was the order he gave to one of his prisoners, "an' tell +the guy with the stomick-ache that when he recognizes the union an' +gives me fifty cents more a week an' makes a work-day end when the clock +strikes, I'm willin' to call it off."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Make him come down handsome," advised one of the loiterers.</p> + +<p>"I guess I got 'em on the run," said Danny exultingly.</p> + +<p>But Tim went in and failed to come out. This was not Tim's fault, +however, for the manager released his hold on his stomach long enough to +get a grip on Tim's collar. The striker's defiance seemed to displease +him, and, because he could not shake Danny, he shook Tim, and he said +things to Tim that he would have preferred to say to Danny. Then his +excited harangue was interrupted by the sound of a gong, which convinced +him that he might again venture to the door.</p> + +<p>Danny was in the grasp of the strong arm of the law. A half dozen +policemen had valiantly rushed through the crowd and captured the entire +besieging party, which was Danny.</p> + +<p>"What you doin'?" demanded Danny angrily.</p> + +<p>"What are <i>you</i> doing?" retorted the police sergeant in charge.</p> + +<p>"This here's a strike," asserted Danny. "I got the plant picketed."</p> + +<p>"Run him in!" ordered the manager from the doorway.</p> + +<p>"What's the row?" asked the sergeant.</p> + +<p>"That's the row," said the manager, pointing to Danny.</p> + +<p>"That!" exclaimed the sergeant scornfully. "You said it was a riot. You +don't call that kid a riot, do you?"</p> + +<p>"Well, it's assault and battery, anyhow," insisted the manager. "He hit +me with a rock."</p> + +<p>"Where?" asked the sergeant.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Where he carries his brains," said Danny, which made the crowd yelp +with joy again.</p> + +<p>"Lock him up!" cried the manager angrily. "I'll prefer the charge and +appear against him."</p> + +<p>The sergeant looked at Danny and then at the manager.</p> + +<p>"Say!" he said at last, "you ain't got the nerve to charge this kid with +assaulting you, have you?"</p> + +<p>"I'm going to do it," said the manager.</p> + +<p>"Oh, all right," returned the sergeant disgustedly.</p> + +<p>The crowd was disposed to protest, but the police were in sufficient +force to make resistance unsafe, and Danny was lifted into the +patrol-wagon.</p> + +<p>At the station the captain happened to be present when Danny was brought +in, escorted by a wagon-load of policemen.</p> + +<p>"What's the charge?" asked the captain.</p> + +<p>"Assault and battery on a grown man!" was the scornful reply of the +sergeant.</p> + +<p>"What did he do?" persisted the surprised captain.</p> + +<p>"Hurt his digestion with a rock," explained the sergeant.</p> + +<p>"I was on strike," said Danny. "I'm a good union man. You got no +business to touch me."</p> + +<p>"I understand," said the sergeant, "that he was discharged, and he +stationed himself outside with a pile of rocks."</p> + +<p>"You've no right to do that," the captain told Danny.</p> + +<p>"They all do it," asserted Danny.</p> + +<p>This was so near the truth that the captain thought it wise to dodge the +subject.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Of course, if no one else will take a man's place," he explained, "the +employer will have to take him back or—"</p> + +<p>"There wasn't nobody tryin' to take my place—not while I was there!" +asserted Danny belligerently.</p> + +<p>"That's no lie, either," laughed the sergeant. "He had the office tied +up tight."</p> + +<p>Danny swelled with pride at this testimonial to his prowess. Then it +suddenly occurred to him that the sergeant did not act as he talked.</p> + +<p>"What'd you butt in for, then?" he demanded.</p> + +<p>"It was his duty," said the captain.</p> + +<p>"Ho!" exclaimed Danny. "It's your business to protect the public, ain't +it?"</p> + +<p>"Of course," admitted the captain.</p> + +<p>"Well, ain't we the public?"</p> + +<p>The captain laughed uneasily. His experience as a policeman had left him +very much in doubt as to who were the public. Both sides to a +controversy always claimed that distinction, and the law-breaker was +usually the louder in his claims. Danny's inability to see anything but +his own side of the case was far from unusual.</p> + +<p>The captain took Danny into his private office and talked to him. The +captain did not wish to lock up the boy, so he sent for Danny's father +and also for the manager of the branch messenger-office. Meanwhile he +tried to explain the matter to Danny, but Danny was obtuse. Why should +not he do as his father and his father's friends did? When they had a +disagreement with the boss, they picketed the plant, and ensuing +incidents sent many people to the hospitals. Why was it worse for one +boy to do this than it was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span> for some hundreds or thousands of men? Danny +was confident that he was within his rights.</p> + +<p>"Dad knows," he said in conclusion. "Dad'll say I'm right. You got no +business mixin' in."</p> + +<p>"Dad's coming," the captain told him.</p> + +<p>The manager came first. "The boy ought to be punished," said he. "He hit +me with a rock."</p> + +<p>"I wish you'd seen him," said the beaming Danny to the captain, for the +recollection of that victory made all else seem trivial. "Say! he +doubled up like a clown droppin' into a barrel."</p> + +<p>"If he isn't punished," asserted the glowering manager, "he'll get worse +and worse and end by going to the devil."</p> + +<p>"Perhaps," replied the captain. "But just stand beside him a moment, +please. Don't dodge, Danny. He'll go behind the bars if he touches you. +Stand side by side."</p> + +<p>They did so.</p> + +<p>"Now," said the captain to the manager, "how do you think you'll look, +standing beside him in the police court and accusing him of assault and +battery?"</p> + +<p>"Like a fool," replied the manager promptly, forced to laugh in spite of +himself.</p> + +<p>"And what kind of a story—illustrated story—will it be for the +papers?" persisted the captain.</p> + +<p>"Let him go," said the manager; "but he ought to be whaled."</p> + +<p>It was at this point that Dan arrived, accompanied by his wife.</p> + +<p>"F'r why sh'u'd he be whaled?" demanded the latter aggressively.</p> + +<p>The matter was explained to her.</p> + +<p>"Is that thrue, Danny?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"Sure," replied the boy.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Well, I'd like to see anny wan outside the fam'ly whale ye," she said, +with a defiant look at the manager, "but I'll do it mesilf."</p> + +<p>Danny was astounded. In this quarter at least he had expected support. +He glanced at his father.</p> + +<p>"I'll take a lick or two at ye mesilf," said Dan. "The idee of breakin' +the law an' makin' all this throuble."</p> + +<p>"You've done it yourself," argued Danny.</p> + +<p>"Shut up!" commanded Dan. "Ye don't know what ye're talkin' about. A +sthrike's wan thing an' disordherly conduct's another."</p> + +<p>"This was a strike," insisted Danny.</p> + +<p>"Where's the union?" demanded Dan.</p> + +<p>"I'm it," replied Danny. "I was organizin' it."</p> + +<p>"If ye'll let him go, Captain," said Dan, ignoring his son's reply, +"I'll larrup him good."</p> + +<p>"For what?" wailed Danny. "I was only doin' what you said was right, an' +what mom said was right, an' what you've all been talkin' for years. +You've been a picket yourself, an' I've heard you laughin' over the way +men who wouldn't strike was done up. We got to organize. Wasn't I +organizin'? We got to enforce our rights. Wasn't I enforcin' them? We +got to discourage traitors to the cause of labor. Wasn't I discouragin' +them? Didn't the union tie up a plant once when you was discharged? +What's eatin' you, dad?"</p> + +<p>Danny's own presentation of the case was so strong that it gave him +courage. But the last question made Dan jump, although he was not +accustomed to any extraordinary show of respect from his son.</p> + +<p>"The lad has no sinse," he announced, "but I'll<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span> larrup him plenty. Ye +get an exthry wan f'r that, Danny. I'll tache ye that ye're not runnin' +things."</p> + +<p>"Makin' throuble f'r father an' mother an' th' good man that's payin' ye +wages we need at home," added Mrs. Burke.</p> + +<p>"Now, what do you think of that?" whimpered Danny, as he was led away. +"I'm to be licked fer doin' what he does. Why don't he teach himself the +same, an' stop others from doin' what he talks?"</p> + +<p>"Danny," said the commiserating captain, "you're to be licked for +learning your lesson too well, and that's the truth."</p> + +<p>But that did not make the situation any the less painful for Danny.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>SIMON STARTS IN THE WORLD</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">By J.J. Hooper</span></h3> + + +<p>Until Simon entered his seventeenth year he lived with his father, an +old "hard-shell" Baptist preacher, who, though very pious and remarkably +austere, was very avaricious. The old man reared his boy—or endeavored +to do so—according to the strictest requisitions of the moral law. But +he lived, at the time to which we refer, in Middle Georgia, which was +then newly settled; and Simon, whose wits were always too sharp for his +father's, contrived to contract all the coarse vices incident to such a +region. He stole his mother's roosters to fight them at Bob Smith's +grocery, and his father's plow-horses to enter them in "quarter" matches +at the same place. He pitched dollars with Bob Smith himself, and could +"beat him into doll rags" whenever it came to a measurement. To crown +his accomplishments, Simon was tip-top at the game of "old sledge," +which was the fashionable game of that era, and was early initiated in +the mysteries of "stocking the papers." The vicious habits of Simon +were, of course, a sore trouble to his father, Elder Jedediah. He +reasoned, he counseled, he remonstrated, and he lashed; but Simon was an +incorrigible, irreclaimable devil. One day the simple-minded old man +returned rather unexpectedly to the field, where he had left Simon and +Ben and a negro boy named Bill at work. Ben was still following his +plow,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span> but Simon and Bill were in a fence corner, very earnestly engaged +at "seven up." Of course the game was instantly suspended as soon as +they spied the old man, sixty or seventy yards off, striding towards +them.</p> + +<p>It was evidently a "gone case" with Simon and Bill; but our hero +determined to make the best of it. Putting the cards into one pocket, he +coolly picked up the small coins which constituted the stake, and fobbed +them in the other, remarking, "Well, Bill, this game's blocked; we'd as +well quit."</p> + +<p>"But, Mass Simon," remarked the boy, "half dat money's mine. Ain't you +gwine to lemme hab 'em?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, never mind the money, Bill; the old man's going to take the bark +off both of us; and besides, with the hand I helt when we quit, I should +'a' beat you and won it all, any way."</p> + +<p>"Well, but Mass Simon, we nebber finish de game, and de rule—"</p> + +<p>"Go to the devil with your rule!" said the impatient Simon. "Don't you +see daddy's right down upon us, with an armful of hickories? I tell you, +I helt nothin' but trumps, and could 'a' beat the horns off a +billy-goat. Don't that satisfy you? Somehow or another, you're d—d hard +to please!" About this time a thought struck Simon, and in a low +tone—for by this time the Reverend Jedediah was close at hand—he +continued, "But may be daddy don't know, <i>right down sure</i>, what we've +been doin'. Let's try him with a lie—'twon't hurt, noway: let's tell +him we've been playin' mumble-peg."</p> + +<p>Bill was perforce compelled to submit to this inequitable adjustment of +his claim to a share<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span> of the stakes; and of course agreed to swear to +the game of mumble-peg. All this was settled, and a pig driven into the +ground, slyly and hurriedly, between Simon's legs as he sat on the +ground, just as the old man reached the spot. He carried under his left +arm several neatly-trimmed sprouts of formidable length, while in his +left hand he held one which he was intently engaged in divesting of its +superfluous twigs.</p> + +<p>"Soho, youngsters!—<i>you</i> in the fence corner, and the <i>crap</i> in the +grass. What saith the Scriptur', Simon? 'Go to the ant, thou sluggard,' +and so forth and so on. What in the round creation of the yearth have +you and that nigger been a-doin'?"</p> + +<p>Bill shook with fear, but Simon was cool as a cucumber, and answered his +father to the effect that they had been wasting a little time in the +game of mumble-peg.</p> + +<p>"Mumble-peg! mumble-peg!" repeated old Mr. Suggs. "What's that?"</p> + +<p>Simon explained the process of <i>rooting</i> for the peg: how the operator +got upon his knees, keeping his arms stiff by his sides, leaned forward, +and extracted the peg with his teeth.</p> + +<p>"So you git <i>upon your knees</i>, do you, to pull up that nasty little +stick! You'd better git upon 'em to ask mercy for your sinful souls and +for a dyin' world. But let's see one o' you git the peg up now."</p> + +<p>The first impulse of our hero was to volunteer to gratify the curiosity +of his worthy sire, but a glance at the old man's countenance changed +his "notion," and he remarked that "Bill was a long ways the best hand." +Bill, who did not deem Simon's modesty an omen very favorable to +him<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span>self, was inclined to reciprocate, compliments with his young +master; but a gesture of impatience from the old man set him instantly +upon his knees, and, bending forward, he essayed to lay hold with his +teeth of the peg, which Simon, just at that moment, very wickedly pushed +a half inch further down. Just as the breeches and hide of the boy were +stretched to the uttermost, old Mr. Suggs brought down his longest +hickory, with both hands, upon the precise spot where the tension was +greatest. With a loud yell, Bill plunged forward, upsetting Simon, and +rolled in the grass, rubbing the castigated part with fearful energy. +Simon, though overthrown, was unhurt; and he was mentally complimenting +himself upon the sagacity which had prevented his illustrating the game +of mumble-peg for the paternal amusement, when his attention was +arrested by the old man's stooping to pick up something—what is it?—a +card upon which Simon had been sitting, and which, therefore, had not +gone with the rest of the pack into his pocket. The simple Mr. Suggs had +only a vague idea of the pasteboard abomination called <i>cards</i>; and +though he decidedly inclined to the opinion that this was one, he was by +no means certain of the fact. Had Simon known this he would certainly +have escaped; but he did not. His father, assuming the look of extreme +sapiency, which is always worn by the interrogator who does not desire +or expect to increase his knowledge by his questions, asked:</p> + +<p>"What's this, Simon?"</p> + +<p>"The Jack-a-dimunts," promptly responded Simon, who gave up all as lost +after this <i>faux pas</i>.</p> + +<p>"What was it doin' down thar, Simon, my<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span> sonny?" continued Mr. Suggs, in +an ironically affectionate tone of voice.</p> + +<p>"I had it under my leg, thar to make it on Bill, the first time it come +trumps," was the ready reply.</p> + +<p>"What's trumps?" asked Mr. Suggs, with a view of arriving at the import +of the word.</p> + +<p>"Nothin' ain't trumps now," said Simon, who misapprehended his father's +meaning, "but <i>clubs</i> was, when you come along and busted up the game."</p> + +<p>A part of this answer was Greek to the Reverend Mr. Suggs, but a portion +of it was full of meaning. They had, then, most unquestionably, been +"throwing" cards, the scoundrels! the "oudacious" little hellions!</p> + +<p>"To the 'mulberry' with both on ye, in a hurry," said the old man +sternly. But the lads were not disposed to be in a "hurry," for the +"mulberry" was the scene of all formal punishment administered during +work hours in the field. Simon followed his father, however, but made, +as he went along, all manner of "faces" at the old man's back; +gesticulated as if he were going to strike him between the shoulders +with his fists, and kicking at him so as almost to touch his coat tail +with his shoe. In this style they walked on to the mulberry-tree, in +whose shade Simon's brother Ben was resting.</p> + +<p>It must not be supposed that, during the walk to the place of +punishment, Simon's mind was either inactive, or engaged in suggesting +the grimaces and contortions wherewith he was pantomimically expressing +his irreverent sentiments toward his father. Far from it. The movements +of his limbs and features were the mere workings<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span> of habit—the +self-grinding of the corporeal machine—for which his reasoning half was +only remotely responsible. For while Simon's person was thus, on its own +account "making game" of old Jed'diah, his wits, in view of the +anticipated flogging, were dashing, springing, bounding, darting about, +in hot chase of some expedient suitable to the necessities of the case; +much after the manner in which puss—when Betty, armed with the broom, +and hotly seeking vengeance for pantry robbed or bed defiled, has closed +upon her the garret doors and windows—attempts all sorts of impossible +exits, to come down at last in the corner, with panting side and glaring +eye, exhausted and defenseless. Our unfortunate hero could devise +nothing by which he could reasonably expect to escape the heavy blows of +his father. Having arrived at this conclusion and the "mulberry" about +the same time, he stood with a dogged look, awaiting the issue.</p> + +<p>The old man Suggs made no remark to any one while he was sizing up +Bill,—a process which, though by no means novel to Simon, seemed to +excite in him a sort of painful interest. He watched it closely, as if +endeavoring to learn the precise fashion of his father's knot; and when +at last Bill was swung up a-tiptoe to a limb, and the whipping +commenced, Simon's eye followed every movement of his father's arm; and +as each blow descended upon the bare shoulders of his sable friend, his +own body writhed and "wriggled" in involuntary sympathy.</p> + +<p>"It's the devil, it is," said Simon to himself, "to take such a +wallopin' as that. Why, the old man looks like he wants to git to the +holler, if he could,—rot his old picter! It's wuth, at the least,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span> +fifty cents—je-e-miny, how that hurt!—yes, it's wuth three-quarters of +a dollar to take that 'ere lickin'! Wonder if I'm 'predestinated,' as +old Jed'diah says, to git the feller to it? Lord, how daddy blows! I do +wish to God he'd bust wide open, the durned old deer-face! If 'twa'n't +for Ben helpin' him, I b'lieve I'd give the old dog a tussel when it +comes to my turn. It couldn't make the thing no wuss, if it didn't make +it no better. 'Drot it! what do boys have daddies for anyhow? 'Tain't +for nuthin' but jist to beat 'em and work 'em. There's some use in +mammies. I kin poke my finger right in the old 'oman's eye, and keep it +thar; and if I say it ain't thar, she'll say so, too. I wish she was +here to hold daddy off. If 'twa'n't so fur I'd holler for her, anyhow. +How she would cling to the old fellow's coat-tail!"</p> + +<p>Mr. Jedediah Suggs let down Bill and untied him. Approaching Simon, +whose coat was off, "Come, Simon, son," said he, "cross them hands; I'm +gwine to correct you."</p> + +<p>"It ain't no use, daddy," said Simon.</p> + +<p>"Why so, Simon?"</p> + +<p>"Jist bekase it ain't. I'm gwine to play cards as long as I live. When I +go off to myself, I'm gwine to make my livin' by it. So what's the use +of beatin' me about it?"</p> + +<p>Old Mr. Suggs groaned, as he was wont to do in the pulpit, at this +display of Simon's viciousness.</p> + +<p>"Simon," said he, "you're a poor ignunt creetur. You don't know nothin', +and you've never been nowhars. If I was to turn you off, you'd starve in +a week."</p> + +<p>"I wish you'd try me," said Simon, "and jist see. I'd win more money in +a week than you can make in a year. There ain't nobody round here kin<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span> +make seed corn off o' me at cards. I'm rale smart," he added with great +emphasis.</p> + +<p>"Simon! Simon! you poor unlettered fool. Don't you know that all +card-players and chicken-fighters and horse-racers go to hell? You +crack-brained creetur, you! And don't you know that them that plays +cards always loses their money, and—"</p> + +<p>"Who wins it all, then, daddy?" asked Simon.</p> + +<p>"Shet your mouth, you imperdent, slack-jawed dog! Your daddy's a-tryin' +to give you some good advice, and you a-pickin' up his words that way. I +knowed a young man once, when I lived in Ogletharp, as went down to +Augusty and sold a hundred dollars' worth of cotton for his daddy, and +some o' them gambollers got him to drinkin', and the <i>very first</i> night +he was with 'em they got every cent of his money."</p> + +<p>"They couldn't get my money in a <i>week</i>," said Simon. "Anybody can git +these here green feller's money; them's the sort I'm a-gwine to watch +for myself. Here's what kin fix the papers jist about as nice as +anybody."</p> + +<p>"Well, it's no use to argify about the matter," said old Jed-diah. "What +saith the Scriptur'? 'He that begetteth a fool, doeth it to his sorrow.' +Hence, Simon, you're a poor, misubble fool,—so cross your hands!"</p> + +<p>"You'd jist as well not, daddy; I tell you I'm gwine to follow playin' +cards for a livin', and what's the use o' bangin' a feller about it? I'm +as smart as any of 'em, and Bob Smith says them Augusty fellers can't +make rent off o' me."</p> + +<p>The Reverend Mr. Suggs had once in his life gone to Augusta; an extent +of travel which in those days was a little unusual. His consideration<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span> +among his neighbors was considerably increased by the circumstance, as +he had all the benefit of the popular inference that no man could visit +the city of Augusta without acquiring a vast superiority over all his +untraveled neighbors, in every department of human knowledge. Mr. Suggs, +then, very naturally, felt ineffably indignant that an individual who +had never seen any collection of human habitations larger than a +log-house village—an individual, in short, no other or better than Bob +Smith—should venture to express an opinion concerning the manners, +customs, or anything else appertaining to, or in any wise connected +with, the <i>Ultima Thule</i> of backwoods Georgians. There were two +propositions which witnessed their own truth to the mind of Mr. Suggs: +the one was that a man who had never been at Augusta could not know +anything about that city, or any place, or anything else; the other, +that one who <i>had</i> been there must, of necessity, be not only well +informed as to all things connected with the city itself, but perfectly +<i>au fait</i> upon all subjects whatsoever. It was therefore in a tone of +mingled indignation and contempt that he replied to the last remark of +Simon.</p> + +<p>"<i>Bob Smith</i> says, does he? And who's <i>Bob Smith</i>? Much does <i>Bob Smith</i> +know about Augusty! He's <i>been thar</i>, I reckon! Slipped off yerly some +mornin', when nobody warn't noticin', and got back afore night! It's +<i>only</i> a hundred and fifty mile. Oh, yes, <i>Bob Smith</i> knows <i>all</i> about +it! <i>I</i> don't know nothin' about it! <i>I</i> ain't never been to +Augusty—<i>I</i> couldn't find the road thar, I reckon—ha, ha! +<i>Bob</i>—<i>Sm-ith</i>! If he was only to see one of them fine gentlemen in +Augusty, with his fine broadcloth, and bell-crown hat, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span> shoe-boots +a-shinin' like silver, he'd take to the woods and kill himself +a-runnin'. Bob Smith! That's whar all your devilment comes from, Simon."</p> + +<p>"Bob Smith's as good as anybody else, I judge; and a heap smarter than +some. He showed me how to cut Jack," continued Simon, "and that's more +nor some people can do, if they <i>have</i> been to Augusty."</p> + +<p>"If Bob Smith kin do it," said the old man, "I kin, too. I don't know it +by that name; but if it's book knowledge or plain sense, and Bob kin do +it, it's reasonable to s'pose that old Jed'diah Suggs won't be bothered +<i>bad</i>. Is it any ways similyar to the rule of three, Simon?"</p> + +<p>"Pretty similyar, daddy, but not adzactly," said Simon, drawing a pack +from his pocket to explain. "Now, daddy," he proceeded, "you see these +here four cards is what we call the Jacks. Well, now, the idee is, if +you'll take the pack and mix 'em all up together, I'll take off a passel +from the top, and the bottom one of them I take off will be one of the +Jacks."</p> + +<p>"Me to mix 'em fust?" said old Jed'diah.</p> + +<p>"Yes."</p> + +<p>"And you not to see but the back of the top one, when you go to 'cut,' +as you call it?"</p> + +<p>"Jist so, daddy."</p> + +<p>"And the backs all jist' as like as kin be?" said the senior Suggs, +examining the cards.</p> + +<p>"More alike nor cow-peas," said Simon.</p> + +<p>"It can't be done, Simon," observed the old man, with great solemnity.</p> + +<p>"Bob Smith kin do it, and so kin I."</p> + +<p>"It's agin nater, Simon; thar ain't a man in Augusty, nor on top of the +yearth, that kin do it!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Daddy," said our hero, "ef you'll bet me—"</p> + +<p>"What!" thundered old Mr. Suggs. "<i>Bet</i>, did you says?" and he came down +with a <i>scorer</i> across Simon's shoulders. "Me, Jed-diah Suggs, that's +been in the Lord's sarvice these twenty years,—<i>me</i> bet, you nasty, +sassy, triflin', ugly—"</p> + +<p>"I didn't go to say <i>that</i>, daddy; that warn't what I meant adzactly. I +went to say that ef you'd let me off from this her maulin' you owe me, +and <i>give me</i> 'Bunch,' if I cut Jack, I'd <i>give you</i> all this here +silver, ef I didn't,—that's all. To be sure, I allers knowed <i>you</i> +wouldn't <i>bet</i>."</p> + +<p>Old Mr. Suggs ascertained the exact amount of the silver which his son +handed him, in an old leathern pouch, for inspection. He also, mentally, +compared that sum with an imaginary one, the supposed value of a certain +Indian pony, called "Bunch," which he had bought for his "old woman's" +Sunday riding, and which had sent the old lady into a fence corner the +first and only time she ever mounted him. As he weighed the pouch of +silver in his hand, Mr. Suggs also endeavored to analyze the character +of the transaction proposed by Simon. "It sartinly <i>can't</i> be nothin' +but <i>givin</i>', no way it kin be twisted," he murmured to himself. "I +<i>know</i> he can't do it, so there's no resk. What makes bettin'? The resk. +It's a one-sided business, and I'll jist let him give me all his money, +and that'll put all his wild sportin' notions out of his head."</p> + +<p>"Will you stand it, daddy?" asked Simon, by way of waking the old man +up. "You mought as well, for the whippin' won't do you no good; and as +for Bunch, nobody about the plantation won't ride him but me."</p> + +<p>"Simon," replied the old man, "I agree to it.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span> Your old daddy is in a +close place about payin' for his land; and this here money—it's jist +eleven dollars, lacking of twenty-five cents—will help out mightily. +But mind, Simon, ef anything's said about this hereafter, remember, you +<i>give</i> me the money."</p> + +<p>"Very well, daddy; and ef the thing works up instid o' down, I s'pose +we'll say you give <i>me</i> Bunch, eh?"</p> + +<p>"You won't never be troubled to tell how you come by Bunch; the thing's +agin nater, and can't be done. What old Jed'diah Suggs knows, he knows +as good as anybody. Give me them fix-ments, Simon."</p> + +<p>Our hero handed the cards to his father, who, dropping the plow-line +with which he had intended to tie Simon's hands, turned his back to that +individual, in order to prevent his witnessing the operation of +<i>mixing</i>. He then sat down, and very leisurely commenced shuffling the +cards, making, however, an exceedingly awkward job of it. Restive +<i>kings</i> and <i>queens</i> jumped from his hands, or obstinately refused to +slide into the company of the rest of the pack. Occasionally a sprightly +<i>knave</i> would insist on <i>facing</i> his neighbor; or, pressing his edge +against another's, half double himself up, and then skip away. But Elder +Jed'diah perseveringly continued his attempts to subdue the refractory, +while heavy drops burst from his forehead, and ran down his cheeks. All +of a sudden an idea, quick and penetrating as a rifle-ball, seemed to +have entered the cranium of the old man. He chuckled audibly. The devil +had suggested to Mr. Suggs an <i>impromptu</i> "stock," which would place the +chances of Simon, already sufficiently slim in the old man's opinion, +without<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span> the range of possibility. Mr. Suggs forthwith proceeded to cut +all the <i>picter ones</i>, so as to be certain to include the <i>Jacks</i>, and +place them at the bottom, with the evident intention of keeping Simon's +fingers above these when he should cut. Our hero, who was quietly +looking over his father's shoulders all the time, did not seem alarmed +by this disposition of the cards; on the contrary, he smiled, as if he +felt perfectly confident of success, in spite of it.</p> + +<p>"Now, daddy," said Simon, when his father had announced himself ready, +"narry one of us ain't got to look at the cards, while I'm a-cuttin'; if +we do, it'll spile the conjuration."</p> + +<p>"Very well."</p> + +<p>"And another thing: you've got to look me right dead in the eye, daddy; +will you?"</p> + +<p>"To be sure,—to be sure," said Mr. Suggs; "fire away."</p> + +<p>Simon walked up close to his father, and placed his hand on the pack. +Old Mr. Suggs looked in Simon's eye, and Simon returned the look for +about three seconds, during which a close observer might have detected a +suspicious working of the wrist of the hand on the cards, but the elder +Suggs did not remark it.</p> + +<p>"Wake snakes! day's a-breakin'! Rise, Jack!" said Simon, cutting half a +dozen cards from the top of the pack, and presenting the face of the +bottom one for the inspection of his father.</p> + +<p>It was the Jack of hearts!</p> + +<p>Old Mr. Suggs staggered back several steps, with uplifted eyes and +hands!</p> + +<p>"Marciful master!" he exclaimed, "ef the boy hain't! Well, how in the +round creation of the—! Ben, did you ever? To be sure and sar<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span>tain, +Satan has power on this yearth!" and Mr. Suggs groaned in very +bitterness.</p> + +<p>"You never seed nothin' like that in <i>Augusty</i>, did ye, daddy?" asked +Simon, with a malicious wink at Ben.</p> + +<p>"Simon, how <i>did</i> you do it?" queried the old man, without noticing his +son's question.</p> + +<p>"Do it, daddy? Do it? 'Tain't nothin'. I done it jist as easy +as—shootin'."</p> + +<p>Whether this explanation was entirely, or in any degree, satisfactory to +the perplexed mind of Elder Jed'diah Suggs can not, after the lapse of +the time which has intervened, be sufficiently ascertained. It is +certain, however, that he pressed the investigation no farther, but +merely requested his son Benjamin to witness the fact that, in +consideration of his love and affection for his son Simon, and in order +to furnish the donee with the means of leaving that portion of the State +of Georgia, he bestowed upon him the impracticable pony, Bunch.</p> + +<p>"Jist so, daddy; jist so; I'll witness that. But it 'minds me mightily +of the way mammy <i>give</i> old Trailler the side of bacon last week. She +a-sweepin' up the h'a'th; the meat on the table; old Trailler jumps up, +gethers the bacon, and darts! Mammy arter him with the broom-stick as +fur as the door, but seein' the dog has got the start, she shakes the +stick at him, and hollers, 'You sassy, aigsukkin', roguish, gnatty, +flop-eared varmint! take it along! take it along! I only wish 'twas full +of a'snic, and ox-vomit, and blue vitrul, so as 'twould cut your interls +into chitlins!' That's about the way you give Bunch to Simon."</p> + +<p>"Oh, shuh, Ben," remarked Simon, "I wouldn't run on that way. Daddy +couldn't help it; it was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span> <i>predestinated</i>: 'Whom he hath, he will,' you +know," and the rascal pulled down the under lid of his left eye at his +brother. Then addressing his father, he asked, "War'n't it, daddy?"</p> + +<p>"To be sure—to be sure—all fixed aforehand," was old Mr. Suggs' reply.</p> + +<p>"Didn't I tell you so, Ben?" said Simon. "<i>I</i> knowed it was all fixed +aforehand," and he laughed until he was purple in the face.</p> + +<p>"What's in ye? What are ye laughin' about?" asked the old man wrothily.</p> + +<p>"Oh, it's so funny that it could all 'a' been <i>fixed aforehand</i>!" said +Simon, and laughed louder than before. The obtusity of the Reverend Mr. +Suggs, however, prevented his making any discoveries. He fell into a +brown study, and no further allusion was made to the matter.</p> + +<p>It was evident to our hero that his father intended he should remain but +one more night beneath the paternal roof. What mattered it to Simon?</p> + +<p>He went home at night; curried and fed Bunch; whispered confidentially +in his ear that he was the "fastest piece of hossflesh, accordin' to +size, that ever shaded the yearth;" and then busied himself in preparing +for an early start on the morrow.</p> + +<p>Old Mr. Suggs' big red rooster had hardly ceased crowing in announcement +of the coming dawn, when Simon mounted the intractable Bunch. Both were +in high spirits: our hero at the idea of unrestrained license in future; +and Bunch from a mesmerical transmission to himself of a portion of his +master's deviltry. Simon raised himself in the stirrups, yelled a +tolerably fair imitation of the Creek war-whoop, and shouted:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span></p> + +<p>"I'm off, old stud! Remember the Jack-a-hearts!"</p> + +<p>Bunch shook his little head, tucked down his tail, ran sideways, as if +going to fall, and then suddenly reared, squealed, and struck off at a +brisk gallop.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>A PIANO IN ARKANSAS</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">By Thomas Bangs Thorpe</span></h3> + + +<p>We shall never forget the excitement which seized upon the inhabitants +of the little village of Hardscrabble as the report spread through the +community that a real piano had actually arrived within its precincts.</p> + +<p>Speculation was afloat as to its appearance and its use. The name was +familiar to everybody; but what it precisely meant, no one could tell. +That it had legs was certain; for a stray volume of some literary +traveler was one of the most conspicuous works in the floating library +of Hardscrabble, and said traveler stated that he had seen a piano +somewhere in New England with pantalets on; also, an old foreign paper +was brought forward, in which there was an advertisement headed +"Soirée," which informed the "citizens, generally," that Mr. Bobolink +would preside at the piano.</p> + +<p>This was presumed by several wiseacres, who had been to a menagerie, to +mean that Mr. Bobolink stirred the piano with a long pole, in the same +way that the showman did the lions and rhi-no-ce-rus.</p> + +<p>So, public opinion was in favor of its being an animal, though a +harmless one; for there had been a land-speculator through the village a +few weeks previously, who distributed circulars of a "Female Academy" +for the accomplishment of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span> young ladies. These circulars distinctly +stated "the use of the piano to be one dollar per month."</p> + +<p>One knowing old chap said, if they would tell him what so-i-ree meant, +he would tell them what a piano was, and no mistake.</p> + +<p>The owner of this strange instrument was no less than a very quiet and +very respectable late merchant of a little town somewhere "north," who, +having failed at home, had emigrated into the new and hospitable country +of Arkansas, for the purpose of bettering his fortune and escaping the +heartless sympathy of his more lucky neighbors, who seemed to consider +him a very bad and degraded man because he had become honestly poor.</p> + +<p>The new-comers were strangers, of course. The house in which they were +setting up their furniture was too little arranged "to admit of calls;" +and, as the family seemed very little disposed to court society, all +prospects of immediately solving the mystery that hung about the piano +seemed hopeless. In the meantime, public opinion was "rife."</p> + +<p>The depository of this strange thing was looked upon by the passers-by +with indefinable awe; and, as noises unfamiliar sometimes reached the +street, it was presumed that the piano made them, and the excitement +rose higher than ever. In the midst of it, one or two old ladies, +presuming upon their age and respectability, called upon the strangers +and inquired after their health, and offered their services and +friendship; meantime, everything in the house was eyed with great +intensity, but, seeing nothing strange, a hint was given about the +piano. One of the new family observed, carelessly, "that it had been +much injured by bringing out, that the damp had affected its tones, and +that one of its legs was so injured<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span> that it would not stand up, and for +the present it would not ornament the parlor."</p> + +<p>Here was an explanation indeed: injured in bringing out; damp affecting +its tones; leg broken. "Poor thing!" ejaculated the old ladies, with +real sympathy, as they proceeded homeward; "traveling has evidently +fatigued it; the Mass-is-sip fogs has given it a cold, poor thing!" and +they wished to see it with increased curiosity.</p> + +<p>The "village" agreed that if Moses Mercer, familiarly called "Mo +Mercer," was in town, they would have a description of the piano, and +the uses to which it was put; and, fortunately, in the midst of the +excitement "Mo" arrived, he having been temporarily absent on a +hunting-expedition.</p> + +<p>Moses Mercer was the only son of "old Mercer," who was, and had been, in +the State Senate ever since Arkansas was admitted into the "Union." Mo +from this fact received great glory, of course; his father's greatness +alone would have stamped him with superiority; but his having been twice +in the "Capitol" when the legislature was in session stamped his claims +to pre-eminence over all competitors.</p> + +<p>Mo Mercer was the oracle of the renowned village of Hardscrabble.</p> + +<p>"Mo" knew everything; he had all the consequence and complacency of a +man who had never seen his equal, and never expected to. "Mo" bragged +extensively upon his having been to the "Capitol" twice,—of his there +having been in the most "fashionable society,"—of having seen the +world. His return to town was therefore received with a shout. The +arrival of the piano was announced to him, and he alone of all the +community was not astonished at the news.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span></p> + +<p>His insensibility was considered wonderful. He treated the piano as a +thing that he was used to, and went on, among other things, to say that +he had seen more pianos in the "Capitol," than he had ever seen +woodchucks, and that it was not an animal, but a musical instrument +played upon by the ladies; and he wound up his description by saying +that the way "the dear creatures could pull music out of it was a +caution to hoarse owls."</p> + +<p>The new turn given to the piano-excitement in Hardscrabble by Mo Mercer +was like pouring oil on fire to extinguish it, for it blazed out with +more vigor than ever. That it was a musical instrument made it a rarer +thing in that wild country than if it had been an animal, and people of +all sizes, colors, and degrees were dying to see and hear it.</p> + +<p>Jim Cash was Mo Mercer's right-hand man: in the language of refined +society, he was "Mo's toady;" in the language of Hardscrabble, he was +"Mo's wheel-horse." Cash believed in Mo Mercer with an abandonment that +was perfectly ridiculous. Mr. Cash was dying to see the piano, and the +first opportunity he had alone with his Quixote he expressed the desire +that was consuming his vitals.</p> + +<p>"We'll go at once and see it," said Mercer.</p> + +<p>"Strangers!" echoed the frightened Cash.</p> + +<p>"Humbug! Do you think I have visited the 'Capitol' twice, and don't know +how to treat fashionable society? Come along at once, Cash," said +Mercer.</p> + +<p>Off the pair started, Mercer all confidence, and Cash all fears as to +the propriety of the visit. These fears Cash frankly expressed; but +Mercer repeated for the thousandth time his experience in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span> the +fashionable society of the "Capitol, and pianos," which he said "was +synonymous;" and he finally told Cash, to comfort him, that, however +abashed and ashamed he might be in the presence of the ladies, "he +needn't fear of sticking, for he would pull him through."</p> + +<p>A few minutes' walk brought the parties on the broad galleries of the +house that contained the object of so much curiosity. The doors and +windows were closed, and a suspicious look was on everything.</p> + +<p>"Do they always keep a house closed up this way that has a piano in it?" +asked Cash mysteriously.</p> + +<p>"Certainly," replied Mercer: "the damp would destroy its tones."</p> + +<p>Repeated knocks at the doors, and finally at the windows, satisfied both +Cash and Mercer that nobody was at home. In the midst of their +disappointment, Cash discovered a singular machine at the end of the +gallery, crossed by bars and rollers and surmounted with an enormous +crank. Cash approached it on tiptoe; he had a presentiment that he +beheld the object of his curiosity, and, as its intricate character +unfolded itself, he gazed with distended eyes, and asked Mercer, with +breathless anxiety, what that strange and incomprehensible box was.</p> + +<p>Mercer turned to the thing as coolly as a north wind to an icicle, and +said, that was <i>it</i>.</p> + +<p>"That <i>it</i>!" exclaimed Cash, opening his eyes still wider; and then, +recovering himself, he asked to see "the tone."</p> + +<p>Mercer pointed to the cross-bars and rollers. With trembling hands, with +a resolution that would enable a man to be scalped without wink<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span>ing, +Cash reached out his hand and seized the handle of the crank (Cash, at +heart, was a brave and fearless man). He gave it a turn: the machinery +grated harshly, and seemed to clamor for something to be put in its maw.</p> + +<p>"What delicious sounds!" said Cash.</p> + +<p>"Beautiful!" observed the complacent Mercer, at the same time seizing +Cash's arm and asking him to desist, for fear of breaking the instrument +or getting it out of tune.</p> + +<p>The simple caution was sufficient; and Cash, in the joy of the moment at +what he had done and seen, looked as conceited as Mo Mercer himself.</p> + +<p>Busy indeed was Cash, from this time forward, in explaining to gaping +crowds the exact appearance of the piano, how he had actually taken hold +of it, and, as his friend Mo Mercer observed, "pulled music out of it."</p> + +<p>The curiosity of the village was thus allayed, and consequently died +comparatively away,—Cash, however, having risen to almost as much +importance as Mo Mercer, for having seen and handled the thing.</p> + +<p>Our "Northern family" knew little or nothing of all this excitement; +they received meanwhile the visits and congratulations of the hospitable +villagers, and resolved to give a grand party to return some of the +kindness they had received, and the piano was, for the first time, moved +into the parlor. No invitation on this occasion was neglected; early at +the post was every visitor, for it was rumored that Miss Patience +Doolittle would, in the course of the evening, "perform on the piano."</p> + +<p>The excitement was immense. The supper was passed over with a contempt +rivaling that which<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span> is cast upon an excellent farce played preparatory +to a dull tragedy in which the star is to appear. The furniture was all +critically examined, but nothing could be discovered answering Cash's +description. An enormously thick-leafed table with a "spread" upon it +attracted little attention, timber being so very cheap in a new country, +and so everybody expected soon to see the piano "brought in."</p> + +<p>Mercer, of course, was the hero of the evening: he talked much and +loudly. Cash, as well as several young ladies, went into hysterics at +his wit. Mercer, as the evening wore away, grew exceedingly conceited, +even for him; and he graciously asserted that the company present +reminded him of his two visits to the "Capitol," and other associations +equally exclusive and peculiar.</p> + +<p>The evening wore on apace, and still no piano. That hope deferred which +maketh the heart sick was felt by some elderly ladies and by a few +younger ones; and Mercer was solicited to ask Miss Patience Doolittle to +favor the company with the presence of the piano.</p> + +<p>"Certainly," said Mercer and with the grace of a city dandy he called +upon the lady to gratify all present with a little music, prefacing his +request with the remark that if she was fatigued "his friend Cash would +give the machine a turn."</p> + +<p>Miss Patience smiled, and looked at Cash.</p> + +<p>Cash's knees trembled.</p> + +<p>All eyes in the room turned upon him.</p> + +<p>Cash trembled all over.</p> + +<p>Miss Patience said she was gratified to hear that Mr. Cash was a +musician; she admired people who had a musical taste. Whereupon Cash +fell<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span> into a chair, as he afterward observed, "chawed up."</p> + +<p>Oh that Beau Brummel or any of his admirers could have seen Mo Mercer +all this while! Calm as a summer morning, complacent as a newly-painted +sign, he smiled and patronized, and was the only unexcited person in the +room.</p> + +<p>Miss Patience rose. A sigh escaped from all present: the piano was +evidently to be brought in. She approached the thick-leafed table and +removed the covering, throwing it carelessly and gracefully aside, +opened the instrument, and presented the beautiful arrangement of dark +and white keys.</p> + +<p>Mo Mercer at this, for the first time in his life, looked confused: he +was Cash's authority in his descriptions of the appearance of the piano; +while Cash himself began to recover the moment that he ceased to be an +object of attention. Many a whisper now ran through the room as to the +"tones," and more particularly the "crank"; none could see them.</p> + +<p>Miss Patience took her seat, ran her fingers over a few octaves, and if +"Moses in Egypt" was not perfectly <i>executed</i>, Moses in Hardscrabble +<i>was</i>. The dulcet sound ceased. "Miss," said Cash, the moment that he +could express himself, so entranced was he by the music,—"Miss +Doolittle, what was the instrument Mo Mercer showed me in your gallery +once, it went by a crank and had rollers in it?"</p> + +<p>It was now the time for Miss Patience to blush: so away went the blood +from confusion to her cheeks. She hesitated, stammered, and said, if Mr. +Cash must know, it was a-a-a-<i>Yankee washing-machine</i>.</p> + +<p>The name grated on Mo Mercer's ears as if<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span> rusty nails had been thrust +into them; the heretofore invulnerable Mercer's knees trembled, the +sweat started to his brow, as he heard the taunting whispers of +"visiting the Capitol twice" and seeing pianos as plenty as woodchucks.</p> + +<p>The fashionable vices of envy and maliciousness were that moment sown in +the village of Hardscrabble; and Mo Mercer, the great, the confident, +the happy and self-possessed, surprising as it may seem, was the first +victim sacrificed to their influence.</p> + +<p>Time wore on, and pianos became common, and Mo Mercer less popular; and +he finally disappeared altogether, on the evening of the day on which a +Yankee peddler of notions sold to the highest bidder, "six patent, +warranted, and improved Mo Mercer pianos."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>WHAR DEM SINFUL APPLES GROW</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">By Anne Virginia Culbertson</span></h3> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ol' Adam he live in de Gyardin uv Eden,<br /></span> +<span class="i12">('Way down yonner)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He didn' know writin' an' he didn' know readin',<br /></span> +<span class="i12">('Way down yonner)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He stay dar erlone jes' eatin' an' a-sleepin',<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He say, "Dis mighty po' comp'ny I'se a-keepin',"<br /></span> +<span class="i2">'Way down yonner whar dem sinful apples grow.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So dey tuck ol' Adam an' dey putt him a-nappin',<br /></span> +<span class="i12">('Way down yonner)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' de fus' thing you know dish yer w'at happen,<br /></span> +<span class="i12">('Way down yonner)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dey tucken his rib an' dey made a 'ooman,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She mighty peart an' she spry an' she bloomin',<br /></span> +<span class="i2">'Way down yonner whar dem sinful apples grow.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Dey 'spute sometimes an' he say, ol' Adam,<br /></span> +<span class="i12">('Way down yonner)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"You nuttin' but spar'-rib, nohow, madam,"<br /></span> +<span class="i12">('Way down yonner)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She say, "Dat de trufe an' hit ain' a-hu't'n',<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fer de spar'-rib's made f'um a hawg, dat's sut'n,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2">'Way down yonner whar dem sinful apples grow.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span><br /> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">De Sarpint he slip in de Gyardin uv Eden,<br /></span> +<span class="i12">('Way down yonner)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He seed Mis' Eve an' he 'gun his pleadin',<br /></span> +<span class="i12">('Way down yonner)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Twel she tucken de apple an' den he quit 'er,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Hissin', "Ho! ho! dat fruit mighty bitter."<br /></span> +<span class="i2">'Way down yonner whar dem sinful apples grow.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ol' Adam he say, "W'at dat you eatin'?"<br /></span> +<span class="i12">('Way down yonner)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Please gimme a bite er dat summer-sweetin',"<br /></span> +<span class="i12">('Way down yonner)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">She gin de big haff wid de core an' de seed in,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' dar whar she show her manners an' her breedin',<br /></span> +<span class="i2">'Way down yonner whar dem sinful apples grow.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Den Adam he ac' right sneakin' sho'ly,<br /></span> +<span class="i12">('Way down yonner)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' mek his 'scuse ter de Lawd right po'ly,<br /></span> +<span class="i12">('Way down yonner)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Blamin' Eve 'kase she do w'at he tell 'er,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' settin' dat 'zample fer many a feller,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">'Way down yonner whar dem sinful apples grow.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Den de Lawd He say in de Gyardin uv Eden,<br /></span> +<span class="i12">('Way down yonner)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"No sech a man shell do my weedin',"<br /></span> +<span class="i12">('Way down yonner)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">So fo'th f'um de Gyardin de Lawd He bid him,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' o' co'se Mis' Eve she up an' went wid him,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">'Way down yonner whar dem sinful apples grow.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span><br /> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Oh, sinner, is you in de Gyardin uv Eden?<br /></span> +<span class="i12">('Way down yonner)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is you on dem sinful apples feedin'?<br /></span> +<span class="i12">('Way down yonner)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Come out, oh, sinner, befo' youse driven,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">De debil gwine git you ef you goes on livin'<br /></span> +<span class="i2">'Way down yonner whar dem sinful apples grow!<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span></div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>A NIGHT IN A ROCKING-CHAIR</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">By Kate Field</span></h3> + + +<p>It may be true that America is going to perdition; that all Americans +are rascals; that there are no American gentlemen; that culture, +refinement, and social manners can only be found in the Old World: but +if it be true, what an extraordinary anomaly it is that women, old and +young, ugly and handsome, can travel alone from one end of this great +country to the other, receiving only such attention as is acceptable. +Having journeyed up and down the land to the extent of twenty thousand +miles, I am persuaded that a woman can go anywhere and do anything, +provided she conducts herself properly. Of course it would be absurd to +deny that it is not infinitely more agreeable to be accompanied by the +"tyrant" called "man"; but when there is no tyrant to come to lovely +woman's rescue, it is astonishing how well lovely woman can rescue +herself, if she exerts the brain and muscle, given her thousands of +years ago, and not entirely annihilated by long disuse. I have been +nowhere that I have not been treated with greater consideration than if +I had belonged to the other sex. There is not a country in Europe of +which this can be said; and if a nation's civilization is gauged—as the +wise declare—by its treatment of women, then America, rough as it may +be, badly dressed as it is, tobacco-chewing as it often<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span> is, stands +head, shoulders, and heart above all the rest of the world. The +Frenchwoman was right in declaring America to be <i>le paradis des dames</i>, +and those women who exalt European gallantry above American honesty are +as blind to their own interests as an owl at high noon.</p> + +<p>There is no royal railroad to lecturing. At best it is hard work, but +lecture committees "do their possible," as the Italians say, to lessen +the weight, and that "possible" is heartily appreciated by such of us as +inwardly long for a natural bridge between stations and hotels. A woman +is never so forlorn as when getting out of a car or entering a strange +hotel.</p> + +<p>However, there never was a rule without its exception, and though +courtesy has marked the majority of lecture committees for its own, a +lecturer may occasionally find himself stranded upon a desert of +indifference, and languish for the comforts of a home not twenty miles +distant. Thus it happened that once upon arriving at my destination when +the shades of evening were falling fast, and glancing about for the +customary smiling gentlemen who smooth out the rough places by carrying +bags, superintending the transportation of luggage, and driving you to +your abiding-place in the best carriage of the period, I found no +gentlemen, smiling or otherwise, to deliver me from my own ignorance.</p> + +<p>"Carriage, ma'am?" screamed a Jehu in top-boots ornamented with a +grotesque tracery of mud.</p> + +<p>Well, yes, I would take a carriage; so up I clambered and sat down upon +what in the darkness I supposed was a seat, but what gave such palpable +evidences of animation in howls and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span> attempts at assault and battery, as +to prove its right to be called a boy. "An' sure the lady didn't mane to +hurt ye, Jimmy," expostulated something that turned out to be the boy's +mother, whereupon a baby and a small sister of the small boy sent forth +their voices in unison with that of their extinguished brother.</p> + +<p>"Driver, let me get out," I said pathetically.</p> + +<p>"Certainly, ma'am, but where will you go to? There ain't no other +carriage left."</p> + +<p>True; and I remained, and when I was asked where I wanted to stop, I +really did not know. Was there a hotel? Yes. Was there more than one +hotel? No. I breathed more freely, and said I would go to the hotel.</p> + +<p>The driver evidently entertained a poor opinion of my mental capacity, +for he mumbled to himself that "people who didn't know where they was +agoin' had nuff sight better stay at home," and deposited me at the +hotel with a caution against pickpockets. This was sufficiently +humiliating, yet were there lower depths. Entering the parlor, I found +it monopolized by a young lady in green silk and red ribbons, and a pink +young man with his hair parted in the middle and his shirt-bosom +resplendent with brilliants of the last water. They were at the piano, +singing "Days of Absence" in a manner calculated to depress the most +buoyant spirits. I rang the bell, and the green young lady and pink +young man began on the second verse. No answer. Again I rang the bell, +and the songsters began on the third verse. No answer. Once more I rang +the bell, and the green young lady and pink young man piped upon the +touching lay of "No one to love." Little cared those "two souls with<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span> +but a single thought, two hearts that beat as one," for the third heart +and soul, victim of misplaced confidence. Ring! I rang that bell until I +ached to be a man for one brief moment. Does a man ever endure such +torture? No. He puts on his hat, walks into the hotel office, gives +somebody a piece of his mind, and demands the satisfaction of a +gentleman. But a woman can go to no office. She must remain up stairs +and cultivate patience on hunger and thirst and a general mortification +of the senses. "Victory, or destruction to the bell!" I said at last, +and pulled the rope with the desperation of a maniac.</p> + +<p>"Did you ring?" asked a mild clerk, entering on the tips of his toes as +if there were not enough of him to warrant so extravagant an expenditure +as the use of his whole sole. Did I ring? I who had been doing nothing +else for half an hour! I who had but forty-five minutes in which to eat +my supper and dress for the lecture!</p> + +<p>Presenting my card, I desired the mild clerk to show me to my room. The +mild clerk was exceedingly sorry, but the committee had left no order, +and there was not a vacant room in the house!</p> + +<p>"What am I to do?" I asked in agony of spirit. "I <i>must</i> have a room."</p> + +<p><i>Must</i> is an overpowering word. Only say <i>must</i> with all the emphasis of +which it is capable, and longings are likely to be realized.</p> + +<p>Well, the mild clerk didn't know but as how he might turn out and let me +have <i>his</i> room.</p> + +<p>Blessed man! Had I been pope, he should have been canonized on the spot. +Following him up several steep flights of stairs, lighted by a kerosene +lamp that perfumed the air as only kero<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span>sene can, I was at last ushered +into a room where sat a young girl knitting. She seemed to be no more +astonished at my appearance than were the chairs and table, merely +remarking, when we were left alone, "That's my father. I suppose you +won't have any objections to my staying here as long as I please." How +could I, an interloper, say "no" to the rightful proprietor of that +room? I smiled feebly, and the damsel pursued her knitting with her +fingers and me with her eyes, until everything in the room seemed to +turn into eyes. The frightful thought came o'er me that perhaps my +companion was "our own correspondent" for the "Daily Slasher!"—a +thought that sent my supper down the wrong way, deprived me of appetite, +and made me thankful that my back hair did not come off! The damsel sat +and sat, knitted and knitted, until she had superintended every +preparation, and then, like an Arab, silently stole away.</p> + +<p>What next? Why, the committee called for me at the appointed hour, +seemed blandly ignorant of the fact that they had not done their whole +duty to woman, and maintained that walking was much better than driving. +The wind blew, dust sought shelter within the recesses of eyes and ears +and nose, but patient Griselda could not have behaved better than I. In +fact, a woman who lectures must endure quietly what a singer or actress +would stoutly protest against, for the reason that lecturing brings down +upon her the taunt of being "strong-minded," and any assertion of rights +or exhibition of temper is sure to be misconstrued into violent hatred +of men and an insane desire to be President of the United States. This +can hardly be called logic, but it <i>is</i><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span> truth. Logic is an unknown +quantity in the ordinary public estimation of women lecturers.</p> + +<p>Inwardly cross and outwardly cold, I delivered my lecture, and went back +to that much-populated room, thinking that at least I should obtain a +few hours' sleep before starting off at "five o'clock in the +morning,"—a nice hour to sing about, but a horrible one at which to get +up. I approached the bed. Shade of that virtue which is next to +godliness! the linen was—was—yes, it was—second-hand! and calmly +reposing on a pillow of doubtful color, my startled vision beheld an</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"... ugly, creepin', blastit wonner,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Detested, shunn'd, by saunt an' sinner."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>That I should come to this! I sought for a bell. Alas, there was none! +Should I scream? No, that might bring out the fire-engines. Should I go +in search of the housekeeper? How to find her at that hour of the night? +No; rather than wander about a strange house in a strange place, I would +sit up. Of course there was a rocking-chair; in that I took refuge, and +there I sat with a quaint old-fashioned clock for company, with such +stout lungs as to render sleep an impossibility. No fairy godmother came +in at the key-hole to transform my chair into a couch and that talkative +clock into a handmaiden. No ghosts beguiled the weary hours. Eleven, +twelve, one, two, three, four! As the clock struck this last hour, a +porter pounded on the door, and, not long after, I was being driven +through the cold, dark morning to a railroad station. My Jehu was he of +the previous day, and a very nice fel<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span>low he turned out to be. "I didn't +know it was you yesterday, you see, miss, or I wouldn't have said +nothing about pickpockets. You don't look like a lecturer, you see, and +that's what's the matter."</p> + +<p>"Indeed, and how ought a lecturer to look?"</p> + +<p>"Well, I don't exactly know, but I always supposed they didn't look like +you. Reckon you don't enjoy staying around here in the dark, so I'll +just wait here till the train comes," and there that good creature +remained until the belated train snatched me up and whisked off to the +city. When the express agent passed through the car to take the +baggage-checks, it was as good as a play to see the different ways in +which people woke up. Some turned over and wouldn't wake up at all; +others sat bolt upright and blinked; some were very cross, and wondered +why they could not be let alone; others, again, rubbed their eyes, +scratched their heads, said "All right," and would have gone to sleep +again had not the agent shaken them into consciousness.</p> + +<p>"Where do you go?" asked the agent of a quiet old gentleman sitting +before me, who had previously given up his checks.</p> + +<p>"Yes, exactly; that's my name," replied the old gentleman.</p> + +<p>"Where do you go?" again asked the agent in a somewhat louder tone.</p> + +<p>"Exactly, I told you so." And the old gentleman put a pocket +handkerchief over his face as a preliminary to sleep.</p> + +<p>"Well, I never," exclaimed the agent, who returned to the charge. "I +asked you where you wanted to go?"</p> + +<p>"Precisely; that's my name."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Confound your name!" muttered the agent. "You're either deaf or insane, +and I guess you're deaf." So putting his mouth to the old gentleman's +ear, he shouted, "Where—do—you—want—to—go?"</p> + +<p>"O, really, the —— House," was the mild answer to a question that so +startled everybody else as to cause one man to jump up and cry, "Fire!" +very much to the gratification of his fellow-passengers. There is +nothing more pleasing to human beings than to see somebody else make +himself ridiculous, and the amusement extracted from the contemplation +of that car-load of men and women almost compensated me for the previous +experience.</p> + +<p>I have since traveled in the far West, but have never looked upon the +counterpart of that New England hotel.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>ROLLO LEARNING TO PLAY</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">By Robert J. Burdette</span></h3> + + +<p>Early in the afternoon of the same day, Mr. Holliday came home bearing a +large package in his arms. Not only seldom, but rarely, did anything +come into the Holliday homestead that did not afford the head of the +family a text for sermonic instruction, if not, indeed, rational +discourse. Depositing the package upon a hall table, he called to his +son in a mandatory manner:</p> + +<p>"Rollo, come to me."</p> + +<p>Rollo approached, but started with reluctant steps. He became +reminiscently aware as he hastily reviewed the events of the day, that +in carrying out one or two measures for the good of the house, he had +laid himself open to an investigation by a strictly partisan committee, +and the possibility of such an inquiry, with its subsequent report, +grieved him. However, he hoped for the worst, so that in any event he +would not be disagreeably disappointed, and came running to his father, +calling "Yes, sir!" in his cheeriest tones.</p> + +<p>This is the correct form in which to meet any possible adversity which +is not yet in sight. Because, if it should not meet you, you are happy +anyhow, and if it should meet you, you have been happy before the +collision. See?</p> + +<p>"Now, Rollo," said his father, "you are too large and strong to be +spending your leisure time playing baby games with your little brother<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span> +Thanny. It is time for you to begin to be athletic."</p> + +<p>"What is athletic?" asked Rollo.</p> + +<p>"Well," replied his father, who was an alumnus (pronounced ahloomnoose) +himself, "in a general way it means to wear a pair of pantaloons either +eighteen inches too short or six inches too long for you, and stand +around and yell while other men do your playing for you. The reputation +for being an athlete may also be acquired by wearing a golf suit to +church, or carrying a tennis racket to your meals. However, as I was +about to say, I do not wish you to work all the time, like a woman, or +even a small part of the time, like a hired man. I wish you to adopt for +your recreation games of sport and pastime."</p> + +<p>Rollo interrupted his father to say that indeed he preferred games of +that description to games of toil and labor, but as he concluded, little +Thanny, who was sitting on the porch step with his book, suddenly read +aloud, in a staccato measure.</p> + +<p>"I-be-lieve-you-my-boy,-re-plied-the-man-heart-i-ly."</p> + +<p>"Read to yourself, Thanny," said his father kindly, "and do not speak +your syllables in that jerky manner."</p> + +<p>Thanny subsided into silence, after making two or three strange gurgling +noises in his throat, which Rollo, after several efforts, succeeded in +imitating quite well. Being older than Thanny, Rollo, of course, could +not invent so many new noises every day as his little brother. But he +could take Thanny's noises, they being unprotected by copyright, and not +only reproduce them, but even improve upon them.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span></p> + +<p>This shows the advantage of the higher education. "A little learning is +a dangerous thing." It is well for every boy to learn that dynamite is +an explosive of great power, after which it is still better for him to +learn of how great power. Then he will not hit a cartridge with a hammer +in order to find out, and when he dines in good society he can still +lift his pie gracefully in his hand, and will not be compelled to +harpoon it with an iron hook at the end of his fore-arm.</p> + +<p>Rollo's father looked at the two boys attentively as they swallowed +their noises, and then said:</p> + +<p>"Now, Rollo, there is no sense in learning to play a man's game with a +toy outfit. Here are the implements of a game which is called base-ball, +and which I am going to teach you to play."</p> + +<p>So saying he opened the package and handed Rollo a bat, a wagon tongue +terror that would knock the leather off a planet, and Rollo's eyes +danced as he balanced it and pronounced it a "la-la."</p> + +<p>"It is a bat," his father said sternly, "a base-ball bat."</p> + +<p>"Is that a base-ball bat?" exclaimed Rollo, innocently.</p> + +<p>"Yes, my son," replied his father, "and here is a protector for the +hand."</p> + +<p>Rollo took the large leather pillow and said:</p> + +<p>"That's an infielder."</p> + +<p>"It is a mitt," his father said, "and here is the ball."</p> + +<p>As Rollo took the ball in his hands he danced with glee.</p> + +<p>"That's a peach," he cried.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span></p> + +<p>"It is a base-ball," his father said, "that is what you play base-ball +with."</p> + +<p>"Is it?" exclaimed Rollo, inquiringly.</p> + +<p>"Now," said Mr. Holliday, as they went into the back yard, followed by +Thanny, "I will go to bat first, and I will let you pitch, so that I may +teach you how. I will stand here at the end of the barn, then when you +miss my bat with the ball, as you may sometimes do, for you do not yet +know how to pitch accurately, the barn will prevent the ball from going +too far."</p> + +<p>"That's the back-stop," said Rollo.</p> + +<p>"Do not try to be funny, my son," replied his father, "in this great +republic only a President of the United States is permitted to coin +phrases which nobody can understand. Now, observe me; when you are at +bat you stand in this manner."</p> + +<p>And Mr. Holliday assumed the attitude of a timid man who has just +stepped on the tail of a strange and irascible dog, and is holding his +legs so that the animal, if he can pull his tail out, can escape without +biting either of them. He then held the bat up before his face as though +he was carrying a banner.</p> + +<p>"Now, Rollo, you must pitch the ball directly toward the end of my bat. +Do not pitch too hard at first, or you will tire yourself out before we +begin."</p> + +<p>Rollo held the ball in his hands and gazed at it thoughtfully for a +moment; he turned and looked at the kitchen windows as though he had +half a mind to break one of them; then wheeling suddenly he sent the +ball whizzing through the air like a bullet. It passed so close to Mr. +Holliday's face that he dropped the bat and his grammar in his +nervousness and shouted:<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Whata you throw nat? That's no way to pitch a ball! Pitch it as though +you were playing a gentleman's game; not as though you were trying to +kill a cat! Now, pitch it right here; right at this place on my bat. And +pitch more gently; the first thing you know you'll sprain your wrist and +have to go to bed. Now, try again."</p> + +<p>This time Rollo kneaded the ball gently, as though he suspected it had +been pulled before it was ripe. He made an offer as though he would +throw it to Thanny. Thanny made a rush back to an imaginary "first," and +Rollo, turning quickly, fired the ball in the general direction of Mr. +Holliday. It passed about ten feet to his right, but none the less he +made what Thanny called "a swipe" at it that turned him around three +times before he could steady himself. It then hit the end of the barn +with a resounding crash that made Cotton Mather, the horse, snort with +terror in his lonely stall. Thanny called out in nasal, sing-song tone:</p> + +<p>"Strike—one!"</p> + +<p>"Thanny," said his father, severely, "do not let me hear a repetition of +such language from you. If you wish to join our game, you may do so, if +you will play in a gentlemanly manner. But I will not permit the use of +slang about this house. Now, Rollo, that was better; much better. But +you must aim more accurately and pitch less violently. You will never +learn anything until you acquire it, unless you pay attention while +giving your mind to it. Now, play ball, as we say."</p> + +<p>This time Rollo stooped and rubbed the ball in the dirt until his father +sharply reprimanded<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span> him, saying, "You untidy boy; that ball will not be +fit to play with!" Then Rollo looked about him over the surrounding +country as though admiring the pleasant view, and with the same +startling abruptness as before, faced his father and shot the ball in so +swiftly that Thanny said he could see it smoke. It passed about six feet +to the left of the batsman, but Mr. Holliday, judging that it was coming +"dead for him," dodged, and the ball struck his high silk hat with a +boom like a drum, carrying it on to the "back-stop" in its wild career.</p> + +<p>"Take your base!" shouted Thanny, but suddenly checked himself, +remembering the new rules on the subject of his umpiring.</p> + +<p>"Rollo!" exclaimed his father, "why do you not follow my instructions +more carefully? That was a little better, but still the ball was badly +aimed. You must not stare around all over creation when you are playing +ball. How can you throw straight when you look at everything in the +world except at the bat you are trying to hit? You must aim right at the +bat—try to hit it—that's what the pitcher does. And Thanny, let me say +to you, and for the last time, that I will not permit the slang of the +slums to be used about this house. Now, Rollo, try again, and be more +careful and more deliberate."</p> + +<p>"Father," said Rollo, "did you ever play base-ball when you were a young +man?"</p> + +<p>"Did I play base-ball?" repeated his father, "did I play ball? Well, +say, I belonged to the Sacred Nine out in old Peoria, and I was a holy +terror on third, now I tell you. One day—"</p> + +<p>But just at this point in the history it occurred to Rollo to send the +ball over the plate. Mr.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span> Holliday saw it coming; he shut both eyes and +dodged for his life, but the ball hit his bat and went spinning straight +up in the air. Thanny shouted "Foul!" ran under it, reached up, took it +out of the atmosphere, and cried:</p> + +<p>"Out!"</p> + +<p>"Thanny," said his father sternly, "another word and you shall go +straight to bed! If you do not improve in your habit of language I will +send you to the reform school. Now, Rollo," he continued, kindly, "that +was a great deal better; very much better. I hit that ball with almost +no difficulty. You are learning. But you will learn more rapidly if you +do not expend so much unnecessary strength in throwing the ball. Once +more, now, and gently; I do not wish you to injure your arm."</p> + +<p>Rollo leaned forward and tossed the ball toward his father very gently +indeed, much as his sister Mary would have done, only, of course, in a +more direct line. Mr. Holliday's eyes lit up with their old fire as he +saw the on-coming sphere. He swept his bat around his head in a fierce +semi-circle, caught the ball fair on the end of it, and sent it over +Rollo's head, crashing into the kitchen window amid a jingle of glass +and a crash of crockery, wild shrieks from the invisible maid servant +and delighted howls from Rollo and Thanny of "Good boy!" "You own the +town!" "All the way round!"</p> + +<p>Mr. Holliday was a man whose nervous organism was so sensitive that he +could not endure the lightest shock of excitement. The confusion and +general uproar distracted him.</p> + +<p>"Thanny!" he shouted, "go into the house! Go into the house and go right +to bed!"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Thanny," said Rollo, in a low tone, "you're suspended; that's what you +get for jollying the umpire."</p> + +<p>"Rollo," said his father, "I will not have you quarreling with Thanny. I +can correct him without your interference. And, besides, you have +wrought enough mischief for one day. Just see what you have done with +your careless throwing. You have broken the window, and I do not know +how many things on the kitchen table. You careless, inattentive boy. I +would do right if I should make you pay for all this damage out of your +own pocket-money. And I would, if you had any. I may do so, +nevertheless. And there is Jane, bathing her eye at the pump. You have +probably put it out by your wild pitching. If she dies, I will make you +wash the dishes until she returns. I thought all boys could throw +straight naturally without any training. You discourage me. Now come +here and take this bat, and I will show you how to pitch a ball without +breaking all the glass in the township. And see if you can learn to bat +any better than you can pitch."</p> + +<p>Rollo took the bat, poised himself lightly, and kept up a gentle +oscillation of the stick while he waited.</p> + +<p>"Hold it still!" yelled his father, whose nerves were sorely shaken. +"How can I pitch a ball to you when you keep flourishing that club like +an anarchist in procession. Hold it still, I tell you!"</p> + +<p>Rollo dropped the bat to an easy slant over his shoulder and looked +attentively at his father. The ball came in. Rollo caught it right on +the nose of the bat and sent it whizzing directly at<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span> the pitcher. Mr. +Holliday held his hands straight out before him and spread his fingers.</p> + +<p>"I've got her!" he shouted.</p> + +<p>And then the ball hit his hands, scattered them, and passed on against +his chest with a jolt that shook his system to its foundations. A +melancholy howl rent the air as he doubled up and tried to rub his chest +and knead all his fingers on both hands at the same time.</p> + +<p>"Rollo," he gasped, "you go to bed, too! Go to bed and stay there six +weeks. And when you get up, put on one of your sister's dresses and play +golf. You'll never learn to play ball if you practice a thousand years. +I never saw such a boy. You have probably broken my lung. And I do not +suppose I shall ever use my hands again. You can't play tiddle-de-winks. +Oh, dear; oh, dear!"</p> + +<p>Rollo sadly laid away the bat and the ball and went to bed, where he and +Thanny sparred with pillows until tea time, when they were bailed out of +prison by their mother. Mr. Holliday had recovered his good humor. His +fingers were multifariously bandaged and he smelled of arnica like a +drug store. But he was reminiscent and animated. He talked of the old +times and the old days, and of Peoria and Hinman's, as was his wont oft +as he felt boyish.</p> + +<p>"And town ball," he said, "good old town ball! There was no limit to the +number on a side. The ring was anywhere from three hundred feet to a +mile in circumference, according to whether we played on a vacant +Pingree lot or out on the open prairie. We tossed up a bat—wet or +dry—for first choice, and then chose the whole school on the sides. The +bat was a board, about the gen<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span>eral shape of a Roman galley oar and not +quite so wide as a barn door. The ball was of solid India rubber; a +little fellow could hit it a hundred yards, and a big boy, with a +hickory club, could send it clear over the bluffs or across the lake. We +broke all the windows in the school-house the first day, and finished up +every pane of glass in the neighborhood before the season closed. The +side that got its innings first kept them until school was out or the +last boy died. Fun? Good game? Oh, boy of these golden days, paying +fifty cents an hour for the privilege of watching a lot of hired men do +your playing for you—it beat two-old-cat."</p> + + +<h3>SPELL AND DEFINE:</h3> + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="spell"> +<tr><td align='left'>Instruction</td><td align='left'>Miscalculation</td><td align='left'>Paralysis</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Instantaneity</td><td align='left'>Pastime</td><td align='left'>Hasty</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Liniment</td><td align='left'>Contusion</td><td align='left'>Supererogation</td></tr> +</table></div> + + +<div class="blockquot"><p>Can a boy learn anything without a teacher?—Does the pupil ever +know more than the instructor?—And why not?—How long does it +require one to learn to speak and write the Spanish language +correctly in six easy lessons, at home, without a master?—And in +how many lessons can one be taught to walk Spanish?—What is meant +by a "rooter"?—What is the difference between a "rooter" and a +"fan"?—Parse "hoodoo."—What is the philology of +"crank"?—Describe a closely contested game of "one-old-cat," with +diagrams.—What is meant by "a rank decision"?—Translate into +colloquial English the phrase, "Good eye Bill!"—Put into bleaching +board Latin, "Rotten umpire."—Why is he so called?</p></div><p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>MR. HARE TRIES TO GET A WIFE</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">By Anne Virginia Culbertson</span></h3> + + +<p>One day the children's mother told them that she was going to spend a +few days at a plantation some miles away, taking with her Aunt Nancy, +who was anxious to pay a little visit to a daughter living in that +neighborhood. Aunt 'Phrony, she told them, had promised to come and look +after them during her absence.</p> + +<p>"Oh, please, mamma," they begged, "let Aunt 'Phrony take us nutting? She +told us one day that she knew where there were just lots and lots of +walnuts." So it was arranged that they should take a luncheon with them +and make a day of it, Aunt 'Phrony being perfectly willing, for her +Indian blood showed itself not only in her appearance, but in her love +for a free out-of-door life, and her fondness for tramping. She would +readily give up a day's work at any time to discharge some wholly +insignificant errand which involved a walk of many miles.</p> + +<p>The day was a bright and beautiful one in October, warm, yet with a +faint nip of last night's frost lingering in the air. They made a fine +little procession through the woods, Aunt 'Phrony leading, followed by +children, a darky with baskets, her grandson "Wi'yum," and lastly the +dogs, frisking and frolicking and darting away every now and then in +pursuit of small game. A very weary and hungry little party gathered<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span> +about the baskets at one o'clock, and three little pairs of white hands +were stained almost as brown as those of Aunt 'Phrony and William. But +everybody was happy, and there was a nice pile of walnuts to go back in +the large bag which William had brought for the purpose. The dogs sat +around and looked longingly on, a squirrel frisked hastily across a log +near-by, the birds chattered in the trees high above and looked +curiously down on the intruders, and presently a foolish hare went +scurrying across the path, so near the dogs that they sat still, amazed +at his presumption, and forbore to chase him.</p> + +<p>"Hi! there goes 'ol' Hyar'!'" shouted Ned; "I'm going to see if I can't +catch him." But he soon gave up the hopeless chase.</p> + +<p>"Was that your 'ol' Hyar',' Aunt 'Phrony; your ol' Hyar' you tell us all +about?" asked little Kit.</p> + +<p>"Bless de chil'!" said she. "Naw, 'twuz de ol', ol' Hyar' I done tol' +you 'bout, de gre't-gre't-gre't-sump'n-ru'rr grandaddy er dis one, I +reckon."</p> + +<p>"Aunt 'Phrony," said Janey, "couldn't you tell us some more about the +old hare while we sit here and get rested?"</p> + +<p>"Now de laws-a-mussy," said 'Phrony, "ef we gwine 'mence on de ol' tales +I reckon I mought ez well mek up my min' ter spen' de res' er de day +right yer on dis spot," and she leaned back against a pine tree and +closed her eyes resignedly. Presently she opened them to ask, "Is I uver +tol' you 'bout de time Mistah Hyar' try ter git him a wife? I isn'? +Well, den, dat de one I gwine gin you dis trip. Hit happen dis-a-way: +Hyar' he bin flyin' all 'roun' de kyountry fer<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span> right long time, +frolickin' an' cuttin' up, jes' a no-kyount bachelder, an' las' he git +kind er tired uv hit, an' he see all tu'rr creeturs gittin' ma'ied an' +he tucken hit inter his haid dat 'twuz time he sottle down an' git him a +wife; so he primp hisse'f up an' slick his hya'r down wid b'argrease an' +stick a raid hank'cher in his ves'-pockit an' pick him a button-hole +f'um a lady's gyarden, an' den he go co'tin' dis gal an' dat gal an' +tu'rr gal. He 'mence wid de good-lookin' ones an' wind up wid de ugly +ones, but 'twan't nair' one dat 'ud lissen to 'im, 'kase he done done so +many mean tricks an' wuz sech a hyarum-skyarum dat dey wuz all 'feared +ter tek up wid 'im, an' so dey shet de do' in his face w'en he git ter +talkin' sparky, dough dar wan't no pusson cu'd do dat sort er talkin' +mo' slicker 'n w'at he cu'd. But he done gin de creeturs jes' li'l too +much 'havishness, so 'twan't no use.</p> + +<p>"He think de marter all over an' he say ter hisse'f: 'Dem fool gals +dunno w'at dey missin', but ef dey s'pose I gwine gin up an' stay +single, dey done fool derse'fs dis time. I ain' gwine squatulate wid 'em +ner argyfy ner beg no mo', but I gwine whu'l right in an' do sump'n.'</p> + +<p>"Atter he study a w'ile he slap one han' on his knee, an' he 'low, he +do: 'Dat's de ticket! dat's de ticket! I reckon dey'll fin' ol' man +Hyar' ain' sech a fool ez he looks ter be, atter all.'</p> + +<p>"He go lopin' all roun', leavin' wu'd at ev'y house in de kyountry dat a +big meetin' bin hilt an' a law passed dat ev'yb'dy gotter git ma'ied, +young an' ol', rich an' po', high an' low. He say ter hisse'f, +'<i>ev'yb'dy</i>, dat mean me, too, so dish yer whar I boun' ter git me a +wife.'</p> + +<p>"De creeturs place der 'pennance on him, dough<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span> he done tucken 'em in so +often, an' on de 'pinted day dey met toge'rr; de gals all dress' up in +der Sunday clo'es an' de mens fixed up mighty sprucy, an' sech a pickin' +an' choosin' you nuver see in all yo' bawn days. De gals dey all stan' +up in line an' de men go struttin' mighty biggitty up an' down befo' +'em, showin' off an' makin' manners an' sayin', 'Howdy, ladiz, howdy, +howdy!' An' de gals dey'd giggle an' twis' an' putt a finger in de +cornders er der moufs, an' w'en a man step up ter one uv 'em ter choose +her out, she'd fetch 'im a li'l tap an' say, 'Hysh! g'way f'um yer, man! +better lemme 'lone!' an' den she'd giggle an' snicker some mo', but I +let you know she wuz sho' ter go wid him in de een'.</p> + +<p>"All dis time Hyar' wuz gwine up an' down de line, bowin' an' scrapin' +an' tryin' ter mek hisse'f 'greeable ter ev'yb'dy, even de daddies an' +de mammies er de gals, whar wuz lookin' on f'um tu'rr side. Dar wuz whar +he miss hit, 'kase w'ile he wuz talkin' ter de mammy uv a mighty likely +li'l gal whar he think 'bout choosin', lo an' beholst, de choosin' wuz +all over, an' w'en Mistah Hyar' turnt roun' dar wan't nair' a gal lef', +an' ev'y man have a wife asseptin' him.</p> + +<p>"Den dey hilt a big darnsin' an' feastin', an' ev'yb'dy wuz happy an' in +a monst'ous good humor, de gals 'kase dey done wot ma'ied, an' de paws +an' de maws 'kase dey done got redd er de gals,—ev'yb'dy 'scusin' +Hyar'. Dey mek lots er game uv 'im, an' w'en dey darnse pas', dey sings +out: 'Heyo! Mistah Hyar', huccome you ain' darnse?' 'Bring yo' wife, ol' +man, an' jine in de fun!' 'Hi! yi! Mistar Hyar', you done ma'y off +ev'yb'dy else an' stay single yo'se'f? Well, dat de meanes' trick you +done played us yit! 'tain'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span> fair!' An' dey snicker an' run on 'twel +Hyar' wish he ain' nuver year de wu'd ma'y.</p> + +<p>"Atter w'ile dey got tired er darnsin' an' tucken der new wifes an' went +off home leavin' Hyar' all by hisse'f, an' I tell you he feel right +lonesome. He git a bad spell er de low-downs an' go squanderin' roun' +thu de woods wid his years drapt an' his paws hangin' limp, studyin' how +he kin git revengemint. Las' he pull hisse'f toge'rr an' he say: 'Come, +Hyar', dis ain't gwine do. Is you done fool ev'yb'dy all dese 'ears an' +den let yo'se'f git fooled by a passel er gals? Naw, suh! I knows w'at I +gwine do dis ve'y minnit. Ef I kain't git me a gal, I kin git me a +widdy, an' some folks laks dem de bes', anyhows. Ef you ma'y a widdy, +she got some er de foolishness knock' outen her befo' you hatter tek her +in han'.'</p> + +<p>"Wid dat he step out ez gaily ez you please. He go an' knock at de do' +uv ev'y house, an' w'en de folks come ter de do' dey say, 'W'y, howdy, +Mistah Hyar', whar you bin keepin' yo'se'f all dis time?' He say, he do: +'Oh, I bin tendin' ter de 'fairs er de kyountry, an' I is sont unter you +ez a messenger. I is saw'y ter tell you dey done hilt nu'rr big meetin' +an' mek up der min's de worl' gittin' too many creeturs in hit, so dey +pass de law dat dar mus' be a big battle, an' you is all ter meet +toge'rr at de 'pinted time, an' each man mus' fall 'pun de man nex' him +an' try fer ter kill 'im.'</p> + +<p>"De creeturs assept dis wid submissity, dey ain' 'spicion Hyar' 't all. +On de 'pinted day dey met toge'rr, an' each wuz raidy ter defen' +hisse'f. Hyar' wuz dar lak all de res', an' ef you'd 'a seed all de +spears an' bows an' arrers he kyarry,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span> an' all de knifes stickin' in his +belt, you'd 'a thought he wuz de bigges' fighter dar. But sho! W'en de +fightin' begin, hit wuz far'-you-well, gentermans! 'Twan't no Hyar' dar; +he jes' putt out tight 'z he kin go. W'en dey see him goin' dey sing +out: 'Hi, dar! Whar you gwine? Whyn't you stay wid we-all?'</p> + +<p>"Hyar' ain' stop ter talk, he jes' look roun' over his shoulder w'iles +he 'z runnin' an' he say, sezee: 'De man I wanster kill, he done runned +'way an' I'se atter him. Kain't stop to talk; git outen my way, +ev'yb'dy,</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>'Cle'r de track, fer yer me comin',</i><br /></span> +<span class="i0"><i>I'se ol' Buster whar keep things hummin'.'</i><br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"W'en de battle wuz over, de creeturs miss Hyar', an' dey say he mus' be +'mongs' de kilt, so dey go roun' lookin' at de daid, but 'twan't no +Hyar' dar. Dey hunt ev'ywhar fer him an' las' dey foun' him squattin' in +de bresh, tremlin' ez ef he have de ager an' nigh mos' skeert ter de'f. +Dey drug him outen dat an' dey ses: 'So dish yer's Buster whar keep +things hummin'! Well, we gwine mek you hum dis time, sho' 'nuff. You +putts we-all ter fightin' an' gits heap er good men kilt off, an' yer +<i>you</i> settin' tuck 'way safe in de bresh.'</p> + +<p>"Den ol' Hyar' he up an' 'fess he done de hull bizness so's't de +kyountry mought be full er widdies an' he git him his pick fer a wife, +fer he 'lowed widdies wan't gwine be so p'tickler ez de gals. De +creeturs jes' natchully hilt up der han's at him, dey wuz plumb outdone. +'De owdacious vilyun!' dey ses, 'we boun' ter exescoot him on de spot +an' git shed uv 'im onct fer all.' But he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span> baig mighty hard an' some uv +'em think he be wuss punish ef dey jes' gins 'im a good hidin' an' lets +'im live on alone, a mis'able ol' bachelder, widout no pusson ter tek +notuss uv 'im, 'kase none er de widdies wuz gwine ma'y a cowerd."</p> + +<p>"Why, Aunt 'Phrony," said Ned, "he must have found a wife at last, for +how about Mis' Molly Hyar'?"</p> + +<p>"Shucks!" said she, "is <i>I</i> uver tol' you 'bout Mis' Molly Hyar'? Naw, +suh, she b'longs in dem ol' nigger tales whar Nancy tells you. De Injun +tales ain' say nuttin' 'bout no wife er his'n. He wuz too gre't a +fighter an' too full er 'havishness uver ter sottle down wid a wife; an' +now lemme finish de tale.</p> + +<p>"Dey gin him a turr'ble trouncin' an' den turnt him aloose, an' stidder +gittin' him a wife he got him a hide dat smart f'um haid ter heels; but +w'en my daddy tell dat tale he useter een' her up dis-a-way, 'An' mebby +Hyar' git de bes' uv 'em, atter all, 'kase w'en you git a hidin', de +smart's soon over, but w'en you git a wife, de mis'ry done come ter +stay.'"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>THE CO-OPERATIVE HOUSEKEEPERS<a name="FNanchor_2_2" id="FNanchor_2_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a></h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">By Elliott Flower</span></h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ten thoughtful women, ever wise,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A wondrous scheme did once devise<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For ease, and to economize.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Coöperation!" was their cry,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And not a husband dared deny<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Twould life and labor simplify.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">One gardener, the ten decreed,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Was all the neighborhood would need<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To plant and trim and rake and weed.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The money saved they could invest<br /></span> +<span class="i0">As vagrant fancy might suggest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And each could then be better dressed.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">So well this worked that, on the whole,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">It seemed to them extremely droll<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To pay so much for handling coal.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">One man all work then undertook,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And former methods they forsook,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Deciding even on one cook.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">One dining-room was next in line,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Where, free from care, they all could dine<br /></span> +<span class="i0">At less expense, as you'll divine.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span></div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Two maids," they said, "could quickly flit<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From home to home, so why permit<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Expense that brings no benefit?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Economy of cash and care<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Became a hobby of the fair,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Until their husbands sought a share.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Although," the latter said, "all goes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For luxuries and costly clothes,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The method still advantage shows.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"While we've not gained, we apprehend<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Good Fortune will on us attend,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If we continue to the end.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"If you've succeeded, why should we<br /></span> +<span class="i0">From constant toil be never free?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One income should sufficient be;<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And, taking turns in earning that,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We'll have the leisure to wax fat<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And spend much time in idle chat.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"So let us see the matter through,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, in this line, it must be true<br /></span> +<span class="i0">One house for all will surely do.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"And if one house means less of strife,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To gain the comforts of this life,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Why, further progress means one wife."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"> * * * * * * * * * *<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ten women now, their acts attest,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Prefer ten homes, and deem it best<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To let coöperation rest.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span></div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>A COMMITTEE FROM KELLY'S</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">By J.V.Z. Belden</span></h3> + + +<p>"Katherine—give it up, dear—" The man looked down into the earnest +eyes of the girl as she sat in the shadow of a palm in the conservatory +at the Morrison's. Strains of music from the ball-room fell on unheeding +ears and she sighed as she looked up at him.</p> + +<p>"I can not turn back now, Everett," she said. "Ever since that day I +spent down on the east side I have looked at life from a different +standpoint. A message came to me then and I must listen. For a year I +have been preparing myself to take my part in this work. To-morrow I +take possession of what is called a model flat, and I hope to teach +those poor little children something besides the <i>three R's</i>. To tell +them how to take a little sunshine into their dismal homes." She looked +like some fair saint with her face illumined with love of humanity.</p> + +<p>"Might I venture to suggest that there is plenty of room for sunshine in +an old house up the Avenue," said the man wistfully.</p> + +<p>The girl looked up quickly—"Don't, Everett, give me six months to see +what I can do—then I will answer the question you asked me last night."</p> + +<p>"Oh, my dear, my dear," he said, "you do not know how I hate to have you +go down there. My sympathy with the great unwashed is not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span> deep enough +for me to be willing to have you mingle with them. Then, to be quite +honest, I have found them rather a happy lot."</p> + +<p>"Listen, Everett," said the girl. "Come down to me a month from to-night +and I will show you that I am right and you are wrong."</p> + +<p>"A <i>whole</i> month!" the man protested.</p> + +<p>"Yes, a whole month—"</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The sun was shining into the front windows of a room on the first floor +of a high tenement down on the east side. A snow-white bed stood far +enough from the wall to allow it to be made up with perfect ease. In +front of it stood a screen covered with pretty chintz; white muslin +curtains hung at the windows; everything was spotless from the +kalsomined ceiling to the oiled floors, where a few bright-colored rugs +made walking possible. As Katherine Anderson explained to some scoffing +friends who came down to take luncheon with her.</p> + +<p>"Everything is clean and in its proper place and the object-lesson is +invaluable to these poor children. If you go into their homes you will +find that the bed is a bundle of rags in some dark closet, while the +front room is kept for company. Here I show them how easily this sunny +room is made into a sitting-room by putting that screen in front of the +bed and then there is a healthful place to sleep. You may think that I +am over-enthusiastic, but I enjoy my classes and I assure you they are +<i>all day long</i>, for besides the usual schoolroom work we have cooking +classes, physical culture, nature classes and little talks about all +sorts of things. I have one girl who I know is going to be a great +novelist, she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span> has such an imagination," said Katherine. "Her big sister +always has a duplicate of anything of mine the child happens to admire, +and the other day she came rushing in with the tale that 'burglars' had +broken into their house the night before and stolen twenty bottles of +ketchup and 'some <i>preserts</i>.'"</p> + +<p>"Had they?" asked the guest. "What peculiar taste in burglary!"</p> + +<p>"No," laughed Katherine; "she has no big sister and their house is one +back room four flights up."</p> + +<p>Four weeks had passed since the Morrison dinner, and Katherine was +tired. Then, too, she was not altogether sure that her mission was a +success. Was she wishing for the fleshpots of upper Fifth Avenue, or was +it just physical weariness that would pass with the night? She had sent +off a note in the morning:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p>"<span class="smcap">My Dear Everett</span>—The work of the model flat is still in existence, +and it is almost a month—a whole month. On Saturday afternoon I am +expecting some of the mothers to come and tell me what they think +of the work we are doing for their children. They will probably be +gone by five o'clock, and if you care to come down at that time I +might be induced to go out to dinner with you. Don't bother about a +chaperon. As I feel now, I could chaperon a chorus girl myself.</p> + +<p style="text-align: right;"> +"Cordially,<br /> +"<span class="smcap">Katherine.</span>" +</p></div> + +<p>Whether the meeting at Mrs. Kelly's had been called together by engraved +cards, by postals, or simply by shrieking from one window to another,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span> I +do not know, but there was evidently some excitement, some deep feeling +which needed expression among the little crowd of women in the fourth +floor, back.</p> + +<p>"I tell ye," shouted Mrs. Kelly, to make herself heard above the din of +many voices, "I tell ye we must organize, an' Tim Kelly himself says it. +Only last Satady night, an' him swearin' wid hunger, an' me faintin' wid +the big wash I had up the Avenoo, what did we come home to but hull +wheat bred an' ags olla Beckymell. There stood my Katy, wid her han's on +her hips, a-sayin' as 'teacher said' them things was nourishiner than +b'iled cabbage. Well, Tim was that mad he broke every plate on the table +an' then went and drank hisself stiff in Casey's saloon."</p> + +<p>"And what do ye think," cried Mrs. McGinniss, as Mrs. Kelly stopped for +breath, "the other night, when me an' some frinds was comin' in for a +quiet avenin', we found my Ellen Addy had hauled the bed into the front +room, an' she an' the young ones was all asleep, an' up to the winders +was my best petticut cut in two. When I waked her up she whined, +'Teacher says it ain't healthy to sleep in back.' Did ye ever hear the +like of that? an' every blessed one of them kids born there!"</p> + +<p>"Now, wha' d'ye think o' that?" murmured the crowd.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Kelly caught her breath and began again. "I've axed ye to come here +because teacher sent word that she'd like the mothers to come of a +Satady and tell her how they liked what she was doin' for the young +ones. Tim says as they sends a committee from men's meetings, and I +think if Mrs. McGinniss, Mrs. McGraw and me was to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span> riprisint this +gatherin' we could tell her how we all feels."</p> + +<p>It was Saturday afternoon, and the model flat was in perfect order, +while the little servant, called "friend" by Miss Anderson, waited in +her spotless apron to answer the bell. Another object-lesson for the +mothers who were expected. The bell rang and three women walked soberly +into the little hall.</p> + +<p>"I am so glad to see you, Mrs. Kelly, and you, Mrs. McGinniss." She +hesitated at the third name.</p> + +<p>"'Tis Mrs. McGraw," said Mrs. Kelly.</p> + +<p>"Bring the tea, Louisa," said Miss Anderson, "and then I want to show +you how pleasant my home is here."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Kelly gave a sniff. "Hum, yessum, it's sunny, but I've seen your +home up town, and it's beyond the likes of me to see why you're down +here at all, at all."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Mrs. McGinniss, "an' I've come to say that you'd better stay +up there an' stop teachin' my childer about their insides. I'm tired of +hearin' 'I can't eat this an' I can't eat that, cause teacher says there +ain't no food walue.' An' there's Mrs. Polinski, down the street, says +she'll have no more foolishness."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Kelly had caught her breath again. "Her Rebecca come home only +yestidy an' cut all the stitches in Ikey's clo'es, an' him sewed up for +the winter."</p> + +<p>Just then a woman with a shawl over her head came in without knocking. +With a nod to the three women, she faced the teacher. "Now, I'd like to +know one thing," she said; "you sent my Josie home this morning to wash +the patchouly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span> offen her hair; now, I want to know just one thing—does +she come here to be smelt or to be learnt?"</p> + +<p>"There's another thing, too," said Mrs. Kelly; "I want that physical +torture business stopped. The young ones are tearin' all their clo'es +off, an' it's <i>got to be stopped</i>!"</p> + +<p>Katherine looked a little dazed and her voice trembled a bit as she +said: "Wouldn't you like to look at the flat?"</p> + +<p>"No, Miss, we wouldn't," said Mrs. Kelly. "You're a nice young woman, +and you don't mean no harm, but it's the sinse av the committee that +you're buttin' in. Good day to ye." And they filed slowly out.</p> + +<p>Katherine, with cheeks aflame, turned toward the door. There was a +twinkle in Landon's eyes as he said:</p> + +<p>"Are you quite ready for dinner, dear?"</p> + +<p>There was a little break in her voice, and she gave him both her hands.</p> + +<p>"Quite ready for—for anything, Everett."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>QUIT YO' WORRYIN'</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">By Anne Virginia Culbertson</span></h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6">Nigger nuver worry,—<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Too much sense fer dat,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Let de white folks scurry<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Roun' an' lose dey fat,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nigger gwine be happy, nuver-min'-you whar he at.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6">Nigger jes' kain't worry,—<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Set him down an' try,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">No use, honey, fer he<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Sho' ter close he eye,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Git so pow'ful sleepy dat he pass he troubles by.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6">Cur'ous, now, dis trouble<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Older dat hit grown,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">'Stid er gittin' double,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Dwinnle ter de bone;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Nigger know dat, so dat why he lef' he troubles 'lone.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i6">Nigger nuver hurry,<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Dem w'at wants ter may;<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Hurry hit mek worry!<br /></span> +<span class="i8">Now you year me say<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Ain' gwine hurry down de road ter meet ol' Def half-way!</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span><br /> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Den quit yo' hurryin',<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Quit yo' worryin'!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">W'at de use uv all dis scurryin'?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Mek ol' Time go sof' an' slow,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Tell him you doan' want no mo'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dish yer uverlastin' flurryin',—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Jes' a trick er his fer hurryin'<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Folks de faster to'des dey burryin'!<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span></div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>HER "ANGEL" FATHER<a name="FNanchor_3_3" id="FNanchor_3_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a></h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">By Elliott Flower</span></h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"My Papa is an angel now,"<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The little maiden said.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We noted her untroubled brow,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Her gayly nodding head,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And then, of course, we wondered how<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She could have been misled.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">We felt that she was wrong, and yet<br /></span> +<span class="i2">We spoke in accents low,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For life with perils is beset,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And friends oft quickly go.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But she was right; he'd gone in debt<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To "back" a burlesque show.<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>ESPECIALLY MEN</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">By George Randolph Chester</span></h3> + + +<p>The tantalizing stream on the other side of the hedge seemed, to the hot +and tired young man, to lead the way straight into the heart of Paradise +itself. Six weary miles of white highway, wavering with heat and misty +with hovering dust clouds, still lay between himself and the railroad +that would whisk him away to the city. Behind him, conquered at +fatiguing cost, were six more miles, stretching back to the village +where not even a team could be hired on Sunday. Rather than spend the +day in that dismal abode of Puritanism he had fled on foot, his business +done, and this little creek, mocking, alluring, irresistible, was the +only cheerful thing on which his eyes had rested in that whole stifling +journey.</p> + +<p>Even this had a drawback. He glanced up again, with a puzzled frown, at +the queer sign glaring down at him from the hedge. It was the third one +of the sort in the past quarter of a mile:</p> + +<p style="text-align: center;"> +<i>TRESPASSERS</i><br /> +<br /> +<i>Are warned from these premises</i><br /> +<i>under penalty of the law</i><br /> +<br /> +<i>ESPECIALLY MEN</i><br /> +</p> + +<p>He turned away impatiently. Dust, dust, dust! He could feel it pasty on +his tongue, gritty on<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span> his lips, grimy on his face. It had stiffened his +hair, clogged his nostrils, sifted through his clothing, settled into +his shoes. It was everywhere and all-pervading.</p> + +<p>The forbidden creek, in the very refinement of derision, suddenly +bubbled into a bar of clinking song—a perfect ecstasy of crystal +notes—then as suddenly died down, babbling and gurgling, and flowed +smoothly on, whispering and murmuring to itself of the delights to come +in the heart of the cool woods. Just here, with a swift sweep between +mossy, curved banks, the stream turned its back to him and hurried away +among the trees with a coy invitation that was well-nigh maddening. He +remembered just such a creek as that where, as a boy, he had used to go +with his companions after school.</p> + +<p>How delightful those boyish swims had been! In fancy he could still feel +the chill shock as he had plunged in, the sharp catching of his breath, +the resounding splash, the shower of icy drops, the soft yielding of the +water—then the delicious buoyancy that had pervaded his limbs. He +wondered, with a whimsical smile, how long he could "stay under," and if +he could hold his eyes open while he dived, and if he could still swim +"dog fashion" and back-handed on his back, and if he could float and +tread water and "turtle."</p> + +<p>How cool and shady and restful it looked in there! Just before the creek +turned behind a clump of dogwood, a patch of sunlight lay on it, +shooting down through the misty twilight of broad oak trees, and the +surface of the water dimpled and glinted and laughed and flirted at him, +before it slipped away into leaf-dimmed sylvan solitudes, in a way that +was not to be longer<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span> resisted. He gave one more glance of distaste at +the white hot road and gave up the struggle.</p> + +<p>"Here goes the 'especial man,'" he said, looking up at the sign in +smiling defiance, and forced his way through the hedge.</p> + +<p>What a coquettish little stream that was! It leaped merrily down tiny, +boulder-strewn inclines to show him how light-hearted and care-free it +could be; it flowed sedately between narrow banks of turf to display its +perfect propriety; it coyly hid behind walls of graceful, slender +willows; it danced impudently into the open and dashed across clear +spaces in frantic haste to escape him; it spread out, clear and limpid, +upon little bars of golden sand, pretending frankly to reveal its pure, +inmost depths; then raced on again, ever beckoning, ever enticing, ever +cajoling, until at last it plunged straight at a wall of dense, tangled +underbrush, and, with a vixenish gurgle of delight at its own +blandishing duplicity, vanished underneath the low sweeping mass of +leaves without even so much as a good-by!</p> + +<p>The pursuer was not to be daunted. Doggedly he fought his way around and +through the swampy underbrush and presently stood blinking his delighted +eyes in a little natural clearing that was a glorious climax to all the +tantalizing coquetry of the creek. Encircled by drooping, long-leaved +willows that were themselves enringed by stately trees, lay a broad, +deep pool, clear as crystal, one side carpeted with velvety turf and +screened with leafy draperies, and the whole canopied by the smiling +blue sky. With a cry of pleasure the young man hastily threw off his +clothing, and, as he undressed, a school-boy taunt whimsically recurred +to him.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Last one in's a nigger!" he shouted to the squirrel that he caught +peering at him from the far side of a limb, and plunged into the pool.</p> + +<p>One by one he gleefully tried all the old boyish tricks until at last, +tiring of them, he lay floating peacefully on his back, looking up at +the sky and covering the entire visible surface of it with air castles, +as young men will. There was no dusty road, no broiling hot sun, no six +miles of weary distance yet to cover.</p> + +<p>There was a rustle and a patter among the trees. Two dogs came bounding +to the edge of the water and barked at the bather in friendly fashion. +They were bouncing big St. Bernards, but scarcely more than puppies, and +they capered and danced in awkward delight when he splashed water at +them. As a further evidence of their friendly feeling they suddenly +pounced upon his clothing.</p> + +<p>"Hey there!" cried the bather, and scrambled out to rescue his apparel. +It was kind of him, the dogs thought, to take so much interest in the +game, and, not to be outdone in heartiness, they scampered off through +the woods, taking the clothes with them. All they left behind was his +hat, his shoes and one sock, his collar and cuffs and tie. He threw +sticks and stones after them and had started to chase them when a new +and dreadful sound smote on his ear. It was the voices of women!</p> + +<p>There was but one safe hiding-place—the pool. With rare presence of +mind he concealed the pathetic remnant of his belongings and plunged +just in time, diving under a clump of low-hanging willows where a +friendly root gave support to his arms and breast.</p> + +<p>Two elderly ladies of severe and forbidding<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span> aspect came slowly within +his range of vision. One was tall and thin and the other was short and +thin, while both wore plain, skimp, black gowns and had their hair +parted in the center and smoothed down flatly over their ears. They were +silent with some vexed and weighty problem as they drew near, but, as +they came just opposite to him, the taller of the two suddenly burst out +with:</p> + +<p>"Men, men, men! Nothing but men, morning, noon and night. Please +explain, Sister Ann! Where did Adnah, during my brief absence, get her +sudden curiosity about the despicable sex?"</p> + +<p>"It was the recent visit of Doctor Laura Phelps, Sister Sarah," meekly +replied the smaller woman. "She lost a magazine while here and Adnah +found it. The publication contained several love stories, so-called, an +illustrated article on 'Young Captains of Industry' and another on +'Handsome Young Men of the Stage.' I burned the pernicious thing as soon +as it came into my hands, but, alas, the damage had been done!"</p> + +<p>"Damage, indeed, Sister Ann!" snapped the other. "Since the age of five, +poor Sister Jane's orphan has never been permitted to see a man. Big +country girls have even been hired to do our farm work. And this, <i>this</i> +is the end of fourteen years of self-sacrificing care!"</p> + +<p>The young man in the pool cautiously ducked his head under the water. A +mosquito had settled back of his ear and was driving him mad.</p> + +<p>"Dreadful!" moaned Sister Ann. "Adnah goes about sighing all the day, +and looks over-long in the mirror, and takes unseemly pains with her +dressing, and does up her hair with flowers, and has feverishly pink +cheeks, and likes to sit in a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span> corner and brood, and takes long walks by +herself, and especially, <i>especially</i>, seems fond of moonlight!"</p> + +<p>A snake slid down off the bushes into the water near the young man and +he "wanted out," but he stayed.</p> + +<p>"Moonlight!" sniffed Sarah. "Moonlight!" There is no language to express +the disdain with which she spoke this word of philandering and +frivolity.</p> + +<p>"Moonlight is very pretty," ventured the other. "I rather like it +myself."</p> + +<p>"At <i>your</i> time of life!" retorted Sister Sarah. "You are too +sentimental, Sister Ann, as well as too careless."</p> + +<p>Thank Heaven they were going! The young man waited until their voices +died in the distance, then crept cautiously to the bank. He had to find +those dogs, and in a hurry. He had just seated himself to put on his +shoes for the search, when he again heard the voices of women and once +more plunged into the pool, like a monster yellow frog, as he reflected +he must seem to the squirrel in the tree.</p> + +<p>"But, Aunt Matilda, how do you know?" he heard as he came up under the +willows. This new voice, sweet and limpid, belonged to a girl of such +striking appearance that the young man was on the point of forgetting +his dilemma—until that infernal mosquito settled down back of his ear +again!</p> + +<p>"My dear Adnah," said a jerky little voice in answer, "your aunts, +remember, were all young once, and considered great beauties in their +day." There was a world of gentle pride in Aunt Matilda's voice as she +said this, and it sounded so<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span> well that she said it over again. "Great +beauties in their day! In consequence they all had their experiences +with men, and know that there is not one to be trusted. Not one, my +child, not one! Believe your aunts."</p> + +<p>"It seems impossible, aunty," declared the soft voice of Adnah. "Why, in +that magazine were the pictures of some of the most noble-looking +creatures—"</p> + +<p>"Tut, tut, child, those are the very worst kind," hastily interrupted +Aunt Matilda. "The more handsome they are, the more dangerous. Since you +remain so incredulous, however, I suppose I shall have to tell you what +we know about them."</p> + +<p>The young man in the pool felt his circulation stopping. The two women +were calmly sitting down on the bank to talk confidences, and from what +he knew of the sex they were as likely as not to sit there until +doomsday, compelling him to appear before the angel Gabriel without even +a shroud. He was conscious of the beginning of a cramp in his left leg +and his shoulders were becoming icy. He had to be motionless, too, and +that was another hardship. The least movement might betray him, for the +women sat quite near, and Adnah was facing him. Thanks to the thickness +of his leafy hiding-place she could not see him, but he could see her +quite plainly, and she was well worth looking at. She, too, wore a +plain, skimp, black dress, and her brown hair was parted in the center +and smoothed down over her ears, but there the resemblance to Aunt +Matilda and the others ended, for her hair was wavy in spite of the +severely straight brushing, and it glinted gold where little flecks of +sunlight filtered through the branches of the tall trees to caress it. +In the hair,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span> too, was a single red rose, caught into place with a +natural grace that it seemed a pity to waste on three spinster aunts and +two dogs, and the same note of color was repeated in another rebellious +blossom at the throat. The young face was plump and oval, and the cheeks +were pink, the brown eyes were wide and sparkling and—Oh, well, the +young man in the pool stopped cataloguing her attractions and simply +summed her up as a stunningly pretty girl. Then he tried once more to +get rid of that maddening mosquito and wished to high Heaven that they +would go!</p> + +<p>"When our dear mother died we four girls were all quite young," began +Aunt Matilda, pausing primly to smooth down her skirts, and the young +man in the watery prison gave up in despair. She was starting out like +the old-fashioned story books, which never arrived any place, and never +knew how to get back if they did. "Your Aunt Sarah was eighteen years +old, your Aunt Ann and myself sixteen, and your poor, deluded mother +fourteen. Our father, child, married again within the year, and so you +see our acquaintance with the duplicity of men began at a very early +age. Of course, we refused to live with a stepmother or to allow her to +occupy our own dear mother's house. Left, then, upon our own +responsibilities at so tender a period of our lives, it behooved us to +conduct ourselves with the strictest of propriety, and I am most happy +to say that we came triumphantly through the ordeal. Naturally, we being +great beauties in those days, my child, great beauties, many gay young +men fluttered about us, and some of them really made quite favorable +impressions upon us. There was one in particular—"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span></p> + +<p>Aunt Matilda paused for a sigh and fixed her eyes in sad reminiscence +upon a little clump of ferns that, full of conceit, were waving +incessant salutes at their dainty reflections in the water.</p> + +<p>"Hang the story of her life!" muttered the miserable youth in the pool. +His teeth were beginning to chatter.</p> + +<p>"Do go on, aunty!" cried the eager Adnah.</p> + +<p>"Well, child, they were all alike. Having insinuated their way into our +confidences by agreeable manners and by their really indisputable +attractiveness, having aroused the beginnings of tender emotions, what +did these young men do, one and all? Why, instead of waiting until the +acquaintance had ripened into mutual undying affection and then falling +gracefully to their knees with honorable proposals of marriage, they one +and all chose what seemed to be favorable moments and strove, by +cajolery or stealth or even force, to kiss us. To <i>kiss</i> us!"</p> + +<p>"Gracious!" exclaimed Adnah.</p> + +<p>There was a moment's silence. The young man in the pool could feel the +goose-flesh pimpling between his shoulder blades.</p> + +<p>"After all, though, it might not have been so very dreadful," finally +commented Adnah, after a thoughtful sigh.</p> + +<p>"Adnah!" cried the horrified Aunt Matilda. "I am astounded!"</p> + +<p>"I can't help it, aunty," said Adnah. "I can't make it seem so terrible, +no matter how hard I try. In fact it—it seems to me that it would have +been—well—rather nice."</p> + +<p>"Adnah!"</p> + +<p>"But, aunty, didn't it ever seem that way to you, sometimes?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span></p> + +<p>Aunt Matilda was shocked and silent for a moment, then over her pale +cheeks crept a pink flush.</p> + +<p>"I'll not deny," she presently confessed in a hesitant voice, "that if +we had not had each other to rely upon for firmness we might perhaps +have been deluded by some of these young scapegraces. They were truly +quite appealing at times. There was one in particular—"</p> + +<p>Again Aunt Matilda became lost in meditation. The young man in the pool +swore softly, even though he perceived the tear that trembled upon the +lady's eyelash. It was impossible to be sympathetic while a leech was +fastened to his ankle.</p> + +<p>"My mother must have thought the way I do, I am sure," persisted Adnah. +The remark brought Aunt Matilda out of the past with a jerk.</p> + +<p>"Your poor mother had the most pitiful experience of all, child," she +replied. "She married. Shortly after you were born, she died, +fortunately spared all knowledge of your father's faithless fickleness. +Adnah, he, too, married again! You, Adnah, was too young to protect +yourself from a stepmother, but we came to your rescue. Your great +uncle, Peter, had just died and left us this fine estate, and here we +are, trying to shield you from the wiles of the destroyer, man!"</p> + +<p>"Some men must be nice, or so many, many girls would not want them," +commented Adnah, still unconvinced.</p> + +<p>"I'll not deny, dear, that some of them <i>seem</i> quite nice," admitted the +other with a sigh. "There was one in particular—"</p> + +<p>The dogs interrupted at this moment with a racing struggle for some red +and brown object.</p> + +<p>"<i>Now</i> what has Castor got?" cried Adnah,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span> jumping up to give chase in a +healthy and delightful burst of speed.</p> + +<p>The youth in the pool dismally realized that Castor had his missing +sock, a brown lisle affair with a quaint red pattern in it, at a dollar +a pair. His teeth were pounding together like castanets, now, so loudly +that he feared Aunt Matilda must surely hear them. Adnah presently +returned, flushed rosy red by the exercise and more charming than ever.</p> + +<p>"I couldn't catch them," she panted. "Gracious, but I am warm! There is +plenty of time for a plunge before dinner. Just wait, Aunt Mattie, until +I run for the bathing suits," and she flashed away again.</p> + +<p>Great Cæsar's ghost! The hidden youth grew so warm with apprehension +that the goose-flesh disappeared and the chattering of his teeth +stopped. His dilemma was unspeakable and unsolvable, seemingly, but +suddenly it was solved for him. The dogs came back!</p> + +<p>The sock had been shredded and they sought fresh diversion. After a +cordially barked invitation for the young man to come out and play, they +went in after him. There was a tremendous splashing struggle. Suddenly +the willows were pulled down by a muscular bare arm, and the face of a +young man appeared above it to the astounded gaze of Aunt Matilda.</p> + +<p>"Excuse me, madam," he began, lunging viciously at Castor and Pollux +with his feet. "Please call off your dogs."</p> + +<p>Aunt Matilda, pale but determined, whipped an antiquated monster of a +pistol from her pocket, though she held it far off from her and to one +side, with no intention, past, present or future, of ever<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span> firing it. It +got its effectiveness from size alone, and was built for pure moral +suasion if ever a pistol was.</p> + +<p>"Hold perfectly still or I shall shoot," she quaveringly warned him. +"You are a male trespasser, sir!"</p> + +<p>"I sincerely regret it, madam," replied the culprit, slapping viciously +at the mosquito behind his ear. He got it that time.</p> + +<p>"You probably will," freezingly retorted Aunt Matilda. "I shall +telephone for the sheriff immediately, and if you are still here when he +arrives you shall receive the full penalty of the law."</p> + +<p>The young man did some quick thinking. It was necessary.</p> + +<p>"Madam, your dogs have stolen my clothing and my money, and I can not +leave until I get them back," he presently declared with lucky +inspiration. "If you have me arrested for trespass I shall bring suit +for the recovery of property."</p> + +<p>Aunt Matilda was sufficiently perplexed to lower her pistol and allow +him to explain, while she coaxed the dogs out of the water. He was a +splendid talker, and had fine, honest-looking blue eyes.</p> + +<p>There was a rush of swift footsteps among the trees.</p> + +<p>"Hide!" she commanded in sudden panic.</p> + +<p>He promptly hid, and when Adnah arrived with the bathing suits, that +young lady found her aunt calmly seated on the ground, holding Castor +and Pollux each by a dripping collar.</p> + +<p>"Leave my suit and return to the house at once with these dogs," +directed Aunt Matilda without turning her head.</p> + +<p>"Why, Aunt Mattie, what's the matter?"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Nothing!" snapped Aunt Matilda in desperation. "Go back to the house +and stay until I come. Ask no questions."</p> + +<p>Adnah searched the scene in mystification for a moment.</p> + +<p>"Yes, aunty," she suddenly said, and walked away in a flutter of +excitement. She had caught the gleam of a bright eye peering at her from +among the willows!</p> + +<p>She burst into a spontaneous rhapsody of song as she went, trilling and +warbling in sweet, untaught cadences, unconsciously like a bird singing +to its mate in the springtime. She had a wonderful voice. The young man +was sorry when she was out of hearing, but glad, too, for the water was +beginning to pucker his cuticle in hard ridges like a wash-board.</p> + +<p>"Now, young man," said Aunt Matilda, "I shall leave this bathing suit +here for your use. I shall expect you to put it on and retire from the +premises as quickly as possible."</p> + +<p>"I must remain until nightfall," was the firm reply. "I must find my +money and clothes. I should feel ridiculous to be seen in such clothing +as that. You, yourself, would scarcely care to have me seen emerging +from your premises, on Sunday especially, in such outlandish garments."</p> + +<p>That last argument told. Aunt Matilda visibly weakened.</p> + +<p>"Very well, then," she grudgingly agreed, "but at dusk—Mercy, young +man, how your teeth do chatter! Are you getting a chill? I'll bring you +a bowl of boneset tea and some dinner right away!" and she hurried off +in much concern.</p> + +<p>The young man lost no time in getting into that bathing suit, for the +chill of the water was upon<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span> him. The suit consisted merely of a pair of +blue bloomers that came just below his knees, and a blue blouse that +split down the back and at the armpits the moment he buttoned it in +front; still he was very grateful for it—grateful for the warm glow +that began to pervade him the moment he had donned it. He put on his one +sock and his shoes, his hat, collar, tie and cuffs to keep the dogs from +getting them, and was quite comfortable when Aunt Matilda came bustling +back with a bowl of steaming tea and a tray loaded with good things to +eat.</p> + +<p>She sat by admiring his appetite until he had finished, then she made +him drink the boneset tea to the last drop. He talked admirably all +through the "dinner," and it was with a sigh of almost regret that she +started away with the empty dishes. She came back presently.</p> + +<p>"You will find our summer cottage up in that direction," she pointed +out. "We shall expect you to—to keep out of range during the day, but +to report at the kitchen door at dusk, when you will be escorted to the +road."</p> + +<p>"I shall follow your instructions to the letter," he assured her, and +she again slowly walked away. To save her, the man-hater could not think +of another reasonable excuse for prolonging the interview. He was a most +gentlemanly young man, and he had splendid eyes!</p> + +<p>The male trespasser spent the next hour in hunting clothes and +anathematizing dogs. His finds were confined strictly to rags and +pairless arms and sleeves, and finally he gave up, with everything +accounted for but worthless. Discovering a high, grassy plot near the +creek, screened from the woods by a thick copse of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span> hazel bushes, he lay +down to think matters over and promptly fell asleep.</p> + +<p>Perhaps half an hour later he slowly opened his eyes with the feeling +that he was being compelled to awaken, and found Adnah seated quietly +beside him, keeping the mosquitoes away from him with a gracefully waved +hazel branch.</p> + +<p>"Just sleep right on," she gently urged. "I often sleep for hours on hot +afternoons in this very place."</p> + +<p>"How did you come here?" he demanded, sitting up, startled.</p> + +<p>"I hunted you," she confessed with a delighted little laugh. "I'm so +glad you're awake at last and don't want to sleep any more. I felt just +sure that your eyes were blue. And they are!"</p> + +<p>Her delight at this fact was so obvious that he felt uneasy.</p> + +<p>"You see, I listened outside the window while Aunt Mattie told Aunts Ann +and Sarah all about you," she confidingly went on. "Aunt Sarah and Aunt +Ann were for telephoning for the sheriff anyhow, but Aunt Mattie +wouldn't let them. She likes you. So do I."</p> + +<p>"Oh!" said the astonished young man. For the first time in his life +conversation had failed him.</p> + +<p>"Of course," said the girl simply. "Well, I waited until they all lay +down for their after-dinner naps, and climbed out of my window so as not +to disturb them. They do enjoy their naps so much, you know. I didn't +find you at the pool but I just hunted until I did find you. I've been +sitting here a long time watching you. You look so nice when you are +asleep."</p> + +<p><i>Now</i> what should he say? With any ordinary<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span> girl he could have found +the answer, but this one had him floored.</p> + +<p>"But you look ever so much nicer when you are awake," she further +informed him, with a clear-eyed straightforwardness that was worse than +disconcerting. In desperation he answered, with her own frankness, that +she was nice looking herself. He meant it, too.</p> + +<p>"I'm so glad you think so," she contentedly sighed. "I just knew we +should like each other as soon as I saw you lying there asleep."</p> + +<p>It was he who blushed, not the girl.</p> + +<p>She partly raised up to recapture her hazel branch, and when she sat +down again her shoulder remained lightly touching his arm. An electric +thrill ran through him and tingled out at his fingertips, but he never +moved a muscle. She looked up at him in peaceful happiness and he +somehow felt very mean and unworthy. Her eyes made him uncomfortable. +The whole trouble was that she was so honest—had never been taught to +conceal her thoughts by the thousand and one spoken and unspoken lies of +ordinary social intercourse. She was neither timid nor bold, but merely +natural, with never a suspicion that conventionality demanded a man and +a maid to leave a mutual liking unconfessed. It was rather rough on the +young man. He was not used to having the truth fly around in such +reckless fashion in his conversations with girls, and it bothered him.</p> + +<p>"I'm not a bit afraid of you," she presently told him. "I knew all the +time that Aunt Mattie was wrong. She told me that all men were dreadful, +and that the first thing they did was to—to kiss a girl they liked."<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span></p> + +<p>"She knows nothing about it," he replied rather crossly. For some +unaccountable reason he was angry with himself and with her.</p> + +<p>"Indeed, she doesn't," she agreed, eying him thoughtfully. Presently she +added: "I do not believe, though, that I should have minded it so much +if she had been right."</p> + +<p>Shade of Plato! He looked down at the tempting curve of her red lips. +They were round and full and soft as the petals of a half-blown rosebud, +warm and tender and sweet, with just the least trace of puckering to +indicate how they could meet the pressure of other lips. He felt his +heart come pounding up into the region of his Adam's apple, and he +trembled as he had not done since his first attack of puppy love at the +age of fourteen. His breath came and went with a painful flutter but he +made no movement. If it had been any sort of a girl under the sun, +especially if so attractive as this one, she would have been kissed +until she gasped for breath; but he just couldn't do it. However, if she +went so far as to <i>ask</i> him to kiss her, <i>by George</i>! he didn't see how +he was to get out of it!</p> + +<p>"I should really like to kiss you," he admitted with a martyr-like sigh +and a further echo of her own frankness, "but I shan't. Under the +circumstances it would not be right."</p> + +<p>He reflected, grinning, that mother would be proud if she could see him +now, then he thought, grinning harder, of the boys at the club. If +<i>they</i> only knew!</p> + +<p>"There, didn't I say so!" she triumphantly exclaimed. "I told Aunt +Matilda that there certainly must be <i>some</i> good men in the world!"</p> + +<p>Good! He winced as certain memories of his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span> careless youth began to do +cake-walks up and down his conscience. Then he changed the subject.</p> + +<p>She snuggled up closely to him, by and by, confidingly and unsuspicious, +and just talked and talked and talked. It was very pleasant to have her +there at his side, babbling innocently away in that sweet, musical +voice. How pretty she was, how artless and trusting, how honest and how +heart-whole! It came to him that his family and friends had for a long +time been telling him that he ought to get married, and he began to see +that they were right.</p> + +<p>How delightful it would be to stay on forever in this enchanted grove +with her. He presently found himself fervently saying it, though he had +not intended such words to pass his lips. She took the wish as a matter +of course. She had confidently expected him to feel that way about it, +and, if he felt that way, to say so.</p> + +<p>"Adnah Eggleson!"</p> + +<p>They jumped like juvenile jam-thieves caught red-handed.</p> + +<p>Aunt Sarah and Aunt Ann and Aunt Matilda rigidly confronted them, having +stolen upon them unseen, unheard, unthought of, and they stood now in +grim horror, merciless and implacable. They advanced in a swooping body, +after one moment of agonizing suspense, and snatched Adnah into their +midst, glaring three kinds of loathing scorn upon the interloping +serpent.</p> + +<p>"Has this person <i>kissed</i> you, or attempted to do so?" hissed Aunt +Sarah.</p> + +<p>"Not yet," meekly answered poor Adnah.</p> + +<p>"I assure you ladies—," began the serpent, but Aunt Sarah cut him +short.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Silence, sir!" she commanded. "We wish no explanations from you, +whatsoever."</p> + +<p>Thus crushing him, the little company wheeled and marched away, bearing +Adnah an unwilling and impenitent captive, two of them ingeniously +keeping behind her so that she should have no opportunity of even +exchanging a backward glance with the serpent.</p> + +<p>Left to himself the serpent moodily kicked holes in the turf. He had an +intense desire to do something violent—to smash something, no matter +what. He was furious with the trio of aunts. It was a shame, he told +himself, to bury alive a beautiful and noble young woman like that, +through a warped and mistaken notion of the world. What right had they +to condemn a sweet and affectionate creature such as she to a starved +and morbid spinsterhood? It was his duty to rescue her from the +colorless fate that hung over her, and he would do his duty. He was +unconsciously flexing his biceps as he said it.</p> + +<p>Would he? How? Should he get out a search warrant or a writ of replevin? +This whimsical view of the case only exasperated him the more as it +presented the utter hopelessness of approaching her—of ever seeing her +again—and, when the dogs came chasing an utterly inconsequential and +useless butterfly in his direction, he pelted them with stones until +they yelped. Hang the dogs, anyhow. It was all their fault!</p> + +<p>Next he blamed himself. If he had only resisted that creek like a man he +wouldn't have been a hundred miles from home without clothes or money, +and silly about a girl he had never seen until that day.</p> + +<p>Then he blamed the girl. Why, <i>why</i> was she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span> such a confiding and +altogether artless and bewitching little fool? She wasn't! He remembered +her eyes and abjectly apologized to the memory of her. She was +everything that was sweet and pure and womanly—everything that was +desirable in every sense—well-bred, well-schooled, unspoiled of the +world, without guile or subterfuge, beautiful, healthy, honest. That had +been the only startling thing about her—just honesty. It spoke ill for +himself and the world in which he lived that this should have seemed +startling! What a wonderful creature she was! By the Eternal, she +belonged to him and he meant to have her! She loved him, too!</p> + +<p>He sat down on the bank to think over this phase of the question. He had +known her several years in the minute and a half since noon, and it was +time this foolishness came to an end.</p> + +<p>Time flies when youth listens to the fancied strains of Mendelssohn's +Spring Song. He was surprised, presently, to note a strange hush +settling down over the woods. A chill vapor seemed to arise from the +water. There was a melancholy note in the tweet of the low-flitting +birds. The rustling trees softened their murmur to a continuous whisper, +soothing and caressing. The tinkle of the creek became more metallic and +pronounced. Near by, down the stream, a sudden chorus of frogs burst +into croaking, their isolated notes blended by the chirping undertone of +the crickets and tree toads. There were other sounds, mysterious, +untraceable, but all musical in greater or lesser degree.</p> + +<p>He understood at last. These sounds, the rustling leaves, the flitting +birds, the tinkling creek, the frogs, tree toads and crickets and those +other<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span> intangible cadences, these were the instruments of nature's vast +orchestra, playing their lullaby, languorous and sweet, for the drowsy +day. It was dusk, and he was desperately in love with Adnah, and he had +on a fool bloomer bath suit and no money, and he had to go back into +civilization just as he was. Woe, woe, woe and anathema!</p> + +<p>At the house he found a table set under a big oak tree back of the +kitchen. Supper for one was illumined by the rays of a solitary lantern. +Aunt Sarah and Aunt Ann, each with a pistol in her lap, sat grimly to +one side. Adnah nor Aunt Matilda were anywhere to be seen, and he +divined with a thrill that Aunt Matilda was acting as jailer to the +young woman until he should be safely off the premises. Evidently she +had been hard to manage. Bless the little girl!</p> + +<p>He took off his hat as he approached and bowed respectfully.</p> + +<p>"I should like you to know who I am," he began.</p> + +<p>"You will please to eat your supper without conversation," Aunt Sarah +sternly interrupted.</p> + +<p>"I wish to pay my addresses to your niece," he protested, but the two +ladies, finding rudeness necessary, clasped their hands to their ears.</p> + +<p>"Kindly eat," said Aunt Sarah, without removing her hands.</p> + +<p>He sat down and glared at the food in despair. He thought he heard +Adnah's voice and the sounds of a scuffle in the house, and it gave him +inspiration. He arose, and, leaning his hands on the edge of the table, +shouted as loudly as he could:</p> + +<p>"I am John Melton, of Philadelphia. I will give you as many references +as you like. I wish your<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span> permission to write to your niece and, later +on, to call upon her. May I do so?"</p> + +<p>"Are you going to eat your supper?" inquired Aunt Sarah.</p> + +<p>He gave up. He could not, as a gentleman, take Aunt Sarah's hands from +her ears and make her listen to what he had to say. He turned sadly away +from the table. The armed escort also arose.</p> + +<p>"Please lead the way," requested Aunt Sarah. "The path leads directly +from the front of the cottage to the road."</p> + +<p>He had stalked, in dismal silence, almost half way down the winding +avenue of trees, moodily watching the gigantic shadows of his limbs +leaping jerkily among the shrubbery, when it occurred to him that the +women could scarcely carry the lantern and pistols and still hold their +ears.</p> + +<p>"I am John Melton, of Philadelphia," he shouted, and looked back to +address them more directly. Alas, the pistols reposed in the pockets of +the two prim aprons, the lantern smoked askew at Aunt Sarah's waist, and +both women were holding their hands to their ears!</p> + +<p>He could not know that they had been whispering about him, however, and +really, for man-haters, their remarks had been very complimentary. Not +even that ridiculous costume could hide his athletic figure, his good +carriage and pleasant address.</p> + +<p>They were nearing the road when they heard a woman's voice shrieking for +them to wait, and presently Aunt Matilda came running after them, +breathless and excited.</p> + +<p>"You must come back to the house at once, all of you," she panted. +"Adnah is wildly hysterical.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span> She insists that she must have this young +man, monster or no monster—that she will die without him. I truly +believe that she would!"</p> + +<p>"Nonsense!" exclaimed Aunt Sarah. "Come on, then!"</p> + +<p>It was Aunt Sarah who swiftly and anxiously led the way. At the door of +the parlor she paused and confronted the young man.</p> + +<p>"Remember," she warned, "that however impulsive our poor, misguided +niece may appear, you <i>must</i> not kiss her!"</p> + +<p>Without waiting for reply she opened the door for him. Adnah, smiling +happily through the last of her tears, sprang to meet him, and, seizing +his hand, drew him down on the couch beside her.</p> + +<p>"I'm going to keep you here always, now," she declared with pretty +authority, as she locked her arm in his and interlaced their fingers.</p> + +<p>He looked around at the aunts and suddenly longed for his own clothes. +They had drawn their chairs in a close semi-circle about the couch and +were helplessly staring. He felt the hot blood burning in his cheeks, on +his temples, down the back of his neck.</p> + +<p>"You <i>will</i> stay, won't you?" Adnah anxiously asked him.</p> + +<p>"I think I shall take you with me, instead," he replied, smiling down at +her in an attempt to conquer his embarrassment.</p> + +<p>Adnah rapturously sighed. The spectators suddenly arose, retiring to the +far corner of the room, where they held an excited, whispered +consultation. Presently they came back and sat down in the same solemn +half-circle. Aunt Sarah ceremoniously cleared her throat.</p> + +<p>"You will please to unclasp your hands and sit<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span> farther apart," she +directed. This obeyed, she proceeded: "Now, Mr. Nelson—"</p> + +<p>"Melton, if you please," corrected the young man, producing a business +card that he had rescued.</p> + +<p>"Oh!" exclaimed the aunts, exchanging wondering glances.</p> + +<p>"We understood that it was Nelson," murmured Aunt Matilda. It seemed +that the hands had not been so tightly clasped over the ears as he had +thought.</p> + +<p>Aunt Sarah gravely adjusted her glasses.</p> + +<p>"'John Melton, Jr.,'" she read. "'Representing Melton and Melton, +Administrators and Real Estate Dealers. General John A. Melton. John +Melton, Jr.'"</p> + +<p>There was a suppressed flutter of excitement and again the three aunts +exchanged surprised glances.</p> + +<p>"I think I may safely say, may I not, Sisters Ann and Matilda, that this +quite alters the case?" was Aunt Sarah's strange query.</p> + +<p>"Quite so, indeed," agreed Aunt Matilda, complacently smoothing her +apron.</p> + +<p>"Very much so," added Aunt Ann.</p> + +<p>"Decidedly," resumed Aunt Sarah. "Your father, young man, handled the +estate of our deceased Uncle Peter in a most upright and satisfactory +fashion—for a man. So far, much is in your favor, since our unfortunate +niece will not be contented without some sort of a husband. Your +personal qualifications have yet to be proved, however. We presume that +you can offer documentary evidence as to your own worth, sir?"</p> + +<p>"Not for a day or so, unfortunately," confessed the young man. "The dogs +destroyed all my pa<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span>pers. The only thing I could find was a portion of a +brief note from my mother."</p> + +<p>The three aunts, as by one electric impulse, bent forward with shining +eyes.</p> + +<p>"From your mother!" hungrily repeated Aunt Sarah. "Let us see it, if you +will, please."</p> + +<p>He produced it reluctantly. It was not exactly the sort of letter a +young man cares to parade.</p> + +<p>"'My beloved son,'" Aunt Sarah read aloud, pausing to bestow a softened +glance upon him. "'I can not wait for your return to say how proud I am +of you. Your noble and generous action in regard to the aged widow +Crane's property has just come to my ears, through a laughing complaint +of your father about your unbusinesslike methods in dealing with those +who have been unfortunate. In spite of his whimsically expressed +disapproval, he feels that you are an honor to him. Your sister Nellie +cried in her pride and love of you when she heard—'"</p> + +<p>The rest of the letter had been lost, but this was enough.</p> + +<p>Adnah had gradually hitched closer to him, and now her hand, unreproved, +stole affectionately to his shoulder. Aunt Matilda was wiping her eyes. +Aunt Ann openly sniffled. Aunt Sarah cleared her throat most violently.</p> + +<p>"Your references are all that we could wish, young man," she presently +admitted in a businesslike tone. "We shall waive, in your favor, our +objections to men in general. If we must have one in the family we are +to be congratulated upon having one whose mother is proud of him."</p> + +<p>Coming from Aunt Sarah this was a marvelous concession. The young man +bowed his head in pleased acknowledgment and, by and by, crossed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span> his +legs in comfort as a home-like feeling began to settle down upon him. +Suddenly observing their bloomered exposure, however, he tried to poke +his legs under the couch, and twiddled his thumbs instead.</p> + +<p>"And when do our young people expect to be married?" meek Sister Ann +presently ventured to inquire.</p> + +<p>"As quickly as possible," promptly answered the young man, smiling +triumphantly down at the girl by his side. He was astonished, and rather +pleased, too, to find her suddenly embarrassed and blushing prettily.</p> + +<p>"I believe, then," announced Aunt Sarah, after due deliberation, "that +you may now kiss our niece; may he not, Sisters Ann and Matilda?"</p> + +<p>"He may!" eagerly assented the others.</p> + +<p>"Very well, then, proceed," commanded Aunt Sarah, folding her arms.</p> + +<p>The young man hastily braced himself to meet this new shock, then gazed +down at the girl again. She was still blushing in her newly-found +self-conscious femininity, but she trustingly held up her pretty lips to +him, looking full into his eyes with the steady flame of her love +burning unveiled—and he kissed her.</p> + +<p>"Ah-h-h-h!" sighed the three man-hating spinsters in ecstatic unison.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>A LETTER FROM A SELF-MADE MERCHANT TO HIS SON</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">By George Horace Lorimer</span></h3> + + +<p>[From John Graham, at the London House of Graham & Co., to his son, +Pierrepont, at the Union Stock Yards in Chicago. Mr. Pierrepont is +worried over rumors that the old man is a bear on lard, and that the +longs are about to make him climb a tree.]</p> + +<p style="text-align: right;"> +<span class="smcap">London</span>, October 27, 189-<br /> +</p> + +<p><i>Dear Pierrepont:</i> Yours of the twenty-first inst. to hand and I note +the inclosed clippings. You needn't pay any special attention to this +newspaper talk about the Comstock crowd having caught me short a big +line of November lard. I never sell goods without knowing where I can +find them when I want them, and if these fellows try to put their +forefeet in the trough, or start any shoving and crowding, they're going +to find me forgetting my table manners, too. For when it comes to funny +business I'm something of a humorist myself. And while I'm too old to +run, I'm young enough to stand and fight.</p> + +<p>First and last, a good many men have gone gunning for me, but they've +always planned the obsequies before they caught the deceased. I reckon +there hasn't been a time in twenty years when there wasn't a nice "Gates +Ajar" piece all made up and ready for me in some office near<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span> the Board +of Trade. But the first essential of a quiet funeral is a willing +corpse. And I'm still sitting up and taking nourishment.</p> + +<p>There are two things you never want to pay any attention to—abuse and +flattery. The first can't harm you and the second can't help you. Some +men are like yellow dogs—when you're coming toward them they'll jump up +and try to lick your hands; and when you're walking away from them +they'll sneak up behind and snap at your heels. Last year, when I was +bulling the market, the longs all said that I was a kindhearted old +philanthropist, who was laying awake nights scheming to get the farmers +a top price for their hogs; and the shorts allowed that I was an +infamous old robber, who was stealing the pork out of the workingman's +pot. As long as you can't please both sides in this world, there's +nothing like pleasing your own side.</p> + +<p>There are mighty few people who can see any side to a thing except their +own side. I remember once I had a vacant lot out on the Avenue, and a +lady came in to my office and in a soothing-sirupy way asked if I would +lend it to her, as she wanted to build a <i>crèche</i> on it. I hesitated a +little, because I had never heard of a <i>crèche</i> before, and someways it +sounded sort of foreign and frisky, though the woman looked like a good, +safe, reliable old heifer. But she explained that a <i>crèche</i> was a baby +farm, where old maids went to wash and feed and stick pins in other +people's children while their mothers were off at work. Of course, there +was nothing in that to get our pastor or the police after me, so I told +her to go ahead.</p> + +<p>She went off happy, but about a week later<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span> she dropped in again, +looking sort of dissatisfied, to find out if I wouldn't build the +<i>crèche</i> itself. It seemed like a worthy object, so I sent some +carpenters over to knock together a long frame pavilion. She was mighty +grateful, you bet, and I didn't see her again for a fortnight. Then she +called by to say that so long as I was in the business and they didn't +cost me anything special, would I mind giving her a few cows. She had a +surprised and grieved expression on her face as she talked, and the way +she put it made me feel that I ought to be ashamed of myself for not +having thought of the live stock myself. So I threw in a half dozen cows +to provide the refreshments.</p> + +<p>I thought that was pretty good measure, but the carpenters hadn't more +than finished with the pavilion before the woman telephoned a sharp +message to ask why I hadn't had it painted.</p> + +<p>I was too busy that morning to quarrel, so I sent word that I would fix +it up; and when I was driving by there next day the painters were hard +at work on it. There was a sixty-foot frontage of that shed on the +Avenue, and I saw right off that it was just a natural signboard. So I +called over the boss painter and between us we cooked up a nice little +ad that ran something like this:</p> + +<p style="text-align: center;"> +Graham's Extract:<br /> +It Makes the Weak Strong.<br /> +</p> + +<p>Well, sir, when she saw the ad next morning that old hen just +scratched gravel. Went all around town saying that I had given a +five-hundred-dollar shed to charity and painted a thousand-dollar ad on +it. Allowed I ought to send my check for that amount to the <i>crèche</i> +fund.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span> Kept at it till I began to think there might be something in it, +after all, and sent her the money. Then I found a fellow who wanted to +build in that neighborhood, sold him the lot cheap, and got out of the +<i>crèche</i> industry.</p> + +<p>I've put a good deal more than work into my business, and I've drawn a +good deal more than money out of it; but the only thing I've ever put +into it which didn't draw dividends in fun or dollars was worry. That is +a branch of the trade which you want to leave to our competitors.</p> + +<p>I've always found worrying a blamed sight more uncertain than +horse-racing—it's harder to pick a winner at it. You go home worrying +because you're afraid that your fool new clerk forgot to lock the safe +after you, and during the night the lard refinery burns down; you spend +a year fretting because you think Bill Jones is going to cut you out +with your best girl, and then you spend ten worrying because he didn't; +you worry over Charlie at college because he's a little wild, and he +writes you that he's been elected president of the Y.M.C.A.; and you +worry over William because he's so pious that you're afraid he's going +to throw up everything and go to China as a missionary, and he draws on +you for a hundred; you worry because you're afraid your business is +going to smash, and your health busts up instead. Worrying is the one +game in which, if you guess right, you don't get any satisfaction out of +your smartness. A busy man has no time to bother with it. He can always +find plenty of old women in skirts or trousers to spend their days +worrying over their own troubles and to sit up nights waking his.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span></p> + +<p>Speaking of handing over your worries to others naturally calls to mind +the Widow Williams and her son Bud, who was a playmate of mine when I +was a boy. Bud was the youngest of the Widow's troubles, and she was a +woman whose troubles seldom came singly. Had fourteen altogether, and +four pair of 'em were twins. Used to turn 'em loose in the morning, when +she let out her cows and pigs to browse along the street, and then she'd +shed all worry over them for the rest of the day. Allowed that if they +got hurt the neighbors would bring them home; and that if they got +hungry they'd come home. And someways, the whole drove always showed up +safe and dirty about meal time.</p> + +<p>I've no doubt she thought a lot of Bud, but when a woman has fourteen it +sort of unsettles her mind so that she can't focus her affections or +play any favorites. And so when Bud's clothes were found at the swimming +hole one day, and no Bud inside them, she didn't take on up to the +expectations of the neighbors who had brought the news, and who were +standing around waiting for her to go off into something special in the +way of high-strikes.</p> + +<p>She allowed that they were Bud's clothes, all right, but she wanted to +know where the remains were. Hinted that there'd be no funeral, or such +like expensive goings-on, until some one produced the deceased. Take her +by and large, she was a pretty cool, calm cucumber.</p> + +<p>But if she showed a little too much Christian resignation, the rest of +the town was mightily stirred up over Bud's death, and every one just +quit work to tell each other what a noble little fellow he was; and how +his mother hadn't de<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span>served to have such a bright little sunbeam in her +home; and to drag the river between talks. But they couldn't get a rise.</p> + +<p>Through all the worry and excitement the Widow was the only one who +didn't show any special interest, except to ask for results. But +finally, at the end of a week, when they'd strained the whole river +through their drags and hadn't anything to show for it but a collection +of tin cans and dead catfish, she threw a shawl over her head and went +down the street to the cabin of Louisiana Clytemnestra, an old yellow +woman, who would go into a trance for four bits and find a fortune for +you for a dollar. I reckon she'd have called herself a clairvoyant +nowadays, but then she was just a voodoo woman.</p> + +<p>Well, the Widow said she reckoned that boys ought to be let out as well +as in for half price, and so she laid down two bits, allowing that she +wanted a few minutes' private conversation with her Bud. Clytie said +she'd do her best, but that spirits were mighty snifty and high-toned, +even when they'd only been poor white trash on earth, and it might make +them mad to be called away from their high jinks if they were taking a +little recreation, or from their high-priced New York customers if they +were working, to tend to cut-rate business. Still, she'd have a try, and +she did. But after having convulsions for half an hour, she gave it up. +Reckoned that Bud was up to some cussedness off somewhere, and that he +wouldn't answer for any two-bits.</p> + +<p>The Widow was badly disappointed, but she allowed that that was just +like Bud. He'd always been a boy that never could be found when any one +wanted him. So she went off, saying that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span> she'd had her money's worth in +seeing Clytie throw those fancy fits. But next day she came again and +paid down four bits, and Clytie reckoned that that ought to fetch Bud +sure. Someways though, she didn't have any luck, and finally the Widow +suggested that she call up Bud's father—Buck Williams had been dead a +matter of ten years—and the old man responded promptly.</p> + +<p>"Where's Bud?" asked the Widow.</p> + +<p>Hadn't laid eyes on him. Didn't know he'd come across. Had he joined the +church before he started?</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>Then he'd have to look downstairs for him.</p> + +<p>Clytie told the Widow to call again and they'd get him sure. So she came +back next day and laid down a dollar. That fetched old Buck Williams' +ghost On the jump, you bet, but he said he hadn't laid eyes on Bud yet. +They hauled the Sweet By and By with a drag net, but they couldn't get a +rap from him. Clytie trotted out George Washington, and Napoleon, and +Billy Patterson, and Ben Franklin, and Captain Kidd, just to show that +there was no deception, but they couldn't get a whisper even from Bud.</p> + +<p>I reckon Clytie had been stringing the old lady along, intending to +produce Bud's spook as a sort of red-fire, calcium-light, +grand-march-of-the-Amazons climax, but she didn't get a chance. For +right there the old lady got up with a mighty set expression around her +lips and marched out, muttering that it was just as she had thought all +along—Bud wasn't there. And when the neighbors dropped in that +afternoon to plan out a memorial service for her "lost lamb,"<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span> she +chased them off the lot with a broom. Said that they had looked in the +river for him and that she had looked beyond the river for him, and that +they would just stand pat now and wait for him to make the next move. +Allowed that if she could once get her hands in "that lost lamb's" wool +there might be an opening for a funeral when she got through with him, +but there wouldn't be till then. Altogether, it looked as if there was a +heap of trouble coming to Bud if he had made any mistake and was still +alive.</p> + +<p>The Widow found her "lost lamb" hiding behind a rain-barrel when she +opened up the house next morning, and there was a mighty touching and +affecting scene. In fact, the Widow must have touched him at least a +hundred times and every time he was affected to tears, for she was using +a bed slat, which is a powerfully strong moral agent for making a boy +see the error of his ways. And it was a month after that before Bud +could go down Main Street without some man who had called him a noble +little fellow, or a bright, manly little chap, while he was drowned, +reaching out and fetching him a clip on the ear for having come back and +put the laugh on him.</p> + +<p>No one except the Widow ever really got at the straight of Bud's +conduct, but it appeared that he left home to get a few Indians scalps, +and that he came back for a little bacon and corn pone.</p> + +<p>I simply mention the Widow in passing as an example of the fact that the +time to do your worrying is when a thing is all over, and that the way +to do it is to leave it to the neighbors. I sail for home to-morrow.</p> + +<p style="text-align: right;"> +Your affectionate father,<br /> +<span class="smcap">John Graham.</span><br /> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>FAREWELL</h2> + +<h3><i>Provoked by Calverley's "Forever"</i></h3> + +<h3>By Bert Leston Taylor</h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Farewell!" Another gloomy word<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As ever into language crept.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">'Tis often written, never heard,<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Except<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">In playhouse. Ere the hero flits—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In handcuffs—from our pitying view.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Farewell!" he murmurs, then exits<br /></span> +<span class="i6">R.U.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Farewell" is much too sighful for<br /></span> +<span class="i2">An age that has not time to sigh.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">We say, "I'll see you later," or<br /></span> +<span class="i6">"Good-by!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When, warned by chanticleer, you go<br /></span> +<span class="i2">From her to whom you owe devoir,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Say not 'good-by,'" she laughs, "but<br /></span> +<span class="i6">'Au Revoir!'"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thus from the garden are you sped;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And Juliet were the first to tell<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You, you were silly if you said<br /></span> +<span class="i6">"Farewell!"</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span><br /> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Farewell," meant long ago, before<br /></span> +<span class="i2">It crept, tear-spattered, into song,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Safe voyage!" "Pleasant journey!" or<br /></span> +<span class="i6">"So long!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">But gone its cheery, old-time ring;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The poets made it rhyme with knell—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Joined it became a dismal thing—<br /></span> +<span class="i6">"Farewell!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Farewell!" into the lover's soul<br /></span> +<span class="i2">You see Fate plunge the fatal iron.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">All poets use it. It's the whole<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Of Byron.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I only feel—farewell!" said he;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And always fearful was the telling—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lord Byron was eternally<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Farewelling.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Farewell!" A dismal word, 'tis true<br /></span> +<span class="i2">(And why not tell the truth about it!);<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But what on earth would poets do<br /></span> +<span class="i6">Without it?<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span></div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>MY RUTHERS</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">By James Whitcomb Riley</span></h3> + +<p>[Writ durin' State Fair at Indanoplis, whilse visitin' a Soninlaw then +residin' thare, who has sence got back to the country whare he says a +man that's raised thare ot to a-stayed in the first place.]</p> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I tell you what I'd ruther do—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ef I only had my ruthers,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'd ruther work when I wanted to<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Than be bossed round by others;—<br /></span> +<span class="i4">I'd ruther kindo' git the swing<br /></span> +<span class="i4">O' what was <i>needed</i>, first, I jing!<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Afore I <i>swet</i> at anything!—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ef I only had my ruthers;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In fact I'd aim to be the same<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With all men as my brothers;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And they'd all be the same with <i>me</i>—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ef I only had my ruthers.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I wouldn't likely know it all—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ef I only had my ruthers;—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'd know <i>some</i> sense, and some base-ball—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Some <i>old</i> jokes, and—some others:<br /></span> +<span class="i4">I'd know <i>some politics</i>, and 'low<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Some tarif-speeches same as now,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Then go hear Nye on "Branes and How<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To Detect Theyr Presence." <i>T'others</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That stayed away, I'd <i>let</i> 'em stay—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">All my dissentin' brothers<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Could chuse as shore a kill er cuore,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ef I only had my ruthers.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span><br /> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The pore 'ud git theyr dues <i>some</i>times—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ef I only had my ruthers,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And be paid <i>dollars</i> 'stid o' <i>dimes</i>,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Fer children, wives and mothers:<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Theyr boy that slaves; theyr girl that sews—<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Fer <i>others</i>—not herself, God knows!—<br /></span> +<span class="i4">The grave's <i>her</i> only change of clothes!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">... Ef I only had my ruthers,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">They'd all have "stuff" and time enugh<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To answer one-another's<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Appealin' prayer fer "lovin' care"—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ef I only had my ruthers.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">They'd be few folks 'ud ast fer trust,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ef I only had my ruthers,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And blame few business-men to bu'st<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Theyrselves, er harts of others:<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Big Guns that come here durin' Fair-<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Week could put up jest anywhare,<br /></span> +<span class="i4">And find a full-and-plenty thare,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ef I only had my ruthers:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The rich and great 'ud 'sociate<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With all theyr lowly brothers,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Feelin' <i>we</i> done the honorun—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ef I only had my ruthers.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span></div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>THE DUTIFUL MARINER<a name="FNanchor_4_4" id="FNanchor_4_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_4" class="fnanchor">[4]</a></h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">By Wallace Irwin</span></h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Twas off the Eastern Filigrees—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wizzle the pipes o'ertop!—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When the gallant Captain of the Cheese<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Began to skip and hop.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Oh stately man and old beside,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Why dost gymnastics do?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is such example dignified<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To set before your crew?"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Oh hang me crew," the Captain cried,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"And scuttle of me ship.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">If I'm the skipper, blarst me hide!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ain't I supposed to skip?<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I'm growing old," the Captain said;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Me dancing days are done;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But while I'm skipper of this ship<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I'll skip with any one.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"I'm growing grey," I heard him say,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"And I can not rest or sleep<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While under me the troubled sea<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Lies forty spasms deep.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span></div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Lies forty spasms deep," he said;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"But still me trusty sloop<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Each hour, I wot, goes many a knot<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And many a bow and loop.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"The hours are full of knots," he said,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Untie them if ye can.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">In vain I've tried, for Time and Tied<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Wait not for any man.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Me fate is hard," the old man sobbed,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"And I am sick and sore.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Me aged limbs of rest are robbed<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And skipping is a bore.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"But Duty is the seaman's boast,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And on this gallant ship<br /></span> +<span class="i0">You'll find the skipper at his post<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As long as he can skip."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And so the Captain of the Cheese<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Skipped on again as one<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who lofty satisfaction sees<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In duty bravely done.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span></div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>MELINDA'S HUMOROUS STORY</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">By May McHenry</span></h3> + + +<p>Melinda was dejected. She told herself that she was groping in the vale +of despair, that life was a vast, gray, echoing void. She decided that +ambition was dead—a case of starvation; that friendship had slipped +through too eagerly grasping fingers; that love—ah, <i>love</i>!—</p> + +<p>"You'd better take a dose of blue-mass," her aunt suggested when she had +sighed seven times dolefully at the tea table.</p> + +<p>"Not <i>blue</i>-mass. Any other kind of mass you please, but <i>not</i> blue," +Melinda shuddered absently.</p> + +<p>No; she was not physically ill; the trouble was deeper—soul sickness, +acute, threatening to become chronic, that defied allopathic doses of +favorite and other philosophers, that would not yield even to hourly +repetition of the formula handed down from her grandmother—"If you can +not have what you want, try to want what you have." Yet she could lay +her finger on no bleeding heart-wound, on no definite cause. It was true +that the deeply analytical, painstakingly interesting historical novel +on which she had worked all winter had been sent back from the +publishers with a briefly polite note of thanks and regrets; but as she +had never expected anything else, that could not depress her. Also, the +slump in G.C. Copper stock had forced her to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span> give up her long-planned +southern trip and even to forego the consolatory purchase of a spring +gown; but she had a mind that could soar above flesh-pot +disappointments. Then, the Reverend John Graham;—but what John Graham +did or said was nothing—absolutely nothing, to her.</p> + +<p>So Melinda clenched her hands and moaned in the same key with the east +wind and told the four walls of her room that she could not endure it; +she must <i>do</i> something. Then it was, that in a flash of inspiration, it +came to her—she would write a humorous story.</p> + +<p>The artistic fitness of the idea pleased her. She had always understood +that humorists were marked by a deep-dyed melancholy, that the height of +unhappiness was a vantage-ground from which to view the joke of +existence. She would test the dictum; now, if ever, she would write +humorously. The material was at hand, seething and crowding in her mind, +in fact—the monumental dullness and complacent narrowness of the +villagers, the egoism, the conceit, the bland shepherd-of-his-flock +pomposity of John Graham. What more could a humorist desire? Yes; she +would write.</p> + +<p>Thoughts came quick and fast; words flowed in a fiery stream like lava +that glows and rushes and curls and leaps down the mountain, sweeping +all obstacles aside. (The figure did not wholly please Melinda, for +everybody knows how dull and gray and uninteresting lava is when it +cools, but she had no time to bother with another.) She felt the +exultation, the joy and uplifting of spirit that is the reward—usually, +alas, the sole reward—of the writer in the work of creation.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span></p> + +<p>Then before the lava had time to cool she sent the story to the first +magazine on her list with a name beginning with "A." It was her custom +to send them that way, though sometimes with a desire to be impartial +she commenced at "Z" and went up the list.</p> + +<p>At the end of two weeks the wind had ceased blowing from the east. +Melinda decided that though life for her must be gray, echoing, void, +yet would she make an effort for the joy of others. She would lift +herself above the depression that enfolded her even as the buoyant +hyacinths were cleaving their dark husks and lifting up the beauty and +fragrance of their hearts to solace passers-by. Therefore she ceased +parting her hair in the middle and ordered a simple little frock from +D——'s—hyacinth blue <i>voile</i> with a lining that should whisper and +rustle like the glad winds whisking away last year's leaves.</p> + +<p>Then the day came when she strolled carelessly and unexpectantly down +the village street to the post-office and there received a letter that +bore on the upper left-hand corner of the envelope the name of the +magazine first on her list beginning with "A." A chill passed along +Melinda's spine. That humorous story—Could this mean?—It was too +horrible to contemplate.</p> + +<p>She took a short cut through the orchard and as she walked she tore off +a corner and peeped into the envelope. Yes, there was a pale-blue slip +of paper with serrated edges. She leaned against a Baldwin apple-tree to +think.</p> + +<p>How true it is that one should be prepared for the unexpected. Melinda +had sent out many manuscripts freighted with tingling hopes and eager +aspirations and with the postage stamps<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span> that insured their prompt +return; how was she to know, by what process of reasoning could she +infer that this, that had been offered simply from force of habit, would +be retained in exchange for an æsthetically tinted check? She +anathematized the magazine editor. (That seems the proper thing to do +with editors.) She wanted to know what business he had to keep that +story after having led her to believe that it was his unbreakable custom +to send them back. It was deception, she told the swelling Baldwin buds, +base, deep-dyed, subtle deception. After baiting her on with his little, +pink, printed rejection slips, he suddenly sprung a wicked trap.</p> + +<p>It was some time before Melinda grew calm enough to read the editorial +letter. It ran:</p> + +<div class="blockquot"><p><i>"Dear Madam—We are glad to have your tender and delicately +sympathetic picture of village life. There is a note of true +sentiment and a generous appreciation of homely virtue marking this +story for which we desire to add an especial word of praise. Check +enclosed.</i></p> + +<p style="text-align: right;"> +<i>"Very truly yours,</i><br /> +<i>"The Editor of A——."</i><br /> +</p></div> + +<p>Melinda sank limply on the bleached, last year's grass at the foot of +the tree. "Tender and delicately sympathetic picture"—"Generous +appreciation!" She laughed feebly. The editor was pleased to be +facetious. Having a fine sense of humor himself he showed his +realization of the story by acknowledging it in the same vein of subtle +satire.</p> + +<p>She reread the letter and unfolded the slip of paper with serrated +edges with changing emo<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span>tions. After all it was not such a very bad +story. She permitted herself to recall how humorous it was, how +cleverly and keenly it laid bare the ridiculous, the unexpected, how +it scintillated with wit and abounded in droll and subtle distinctions +and descriptions—all—all at the expense of her nearest relatives and +her dearest friends.</p> + +<p>Melinda thought she would return the check and demand that her story be +sent back to her or destroyed; but, reflecting that Punch's advice is +applicable to other things than matrimony and suicide, she didn't. She +resolutely put her literary Frankenstein behind her. She reasoned that +in all probability the story would not be published during the lifetime +of any of the originals of the characters; that even if the worst came +to the worst, Mossdale was likely to remain in ignorance that would be +blissful. The villagers were not wont to waste time on the printed word; +in fact, such was the profundity of their unenlightenment, few of them +had heard of the magazine with a name beginning with "A." Even John +Graham paid little attention to the secular periodicals; besides, if +absolutely necessary, John's attention might be diverted.</p> + +<p>So Melinda went away on a visit. Her health demanded it. The doctor was +unable to name her malady, but she herself diagnosed it as +<i>magazinitis</i>.</p> + +<p>Toward fall Melinda, entirely recovered, returned to Mossdale. Entirely +recovered, yet she turned cold, unseeing eyes on the newsboy when he +passed through the car with his towering load of varicolored +periodicals, and rather than be forced to the final resort of the +unaccompanied<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span> traveler, she welcomed the advent of an acquaintance +possessed of volubility of an ejaculatory, eruptive variety. After many +gentle jets and spurts of gossip much remained to be told, as the lady +hastily gathered up her impedimenta preparatory to alighting at her home +station.</p> + +<p>"How like me in the joy of seeing you, to forget! What a sweet, clever +story! And to think of <i>you</i> having something published in 'A——'! I +never was more surprised than when Mr. Ferguson brought home the +magazine. Those delicious Mossdale people! I could not endure that the +dear things should not see and know at once. The lovely hamlet is so—so +remote, and I knew you were traveling. What a pleasure to send them half +a dozen copies that very evening!—Yes, porter, that, too—<i>Do</i> run down +to see me soon, dear—Now <i>do</i>. <i>Good</i>-by!"</p> + +<p>Melinda summoned the newsboy and bought the latest number of the +magazine with a name beginning with "A." She turned to the list of +"Contents" with feverish anxiety, then the book slid from her nerveless +fingers. Her humorous story had been given to an eager public. She +leaned back and gazed out at the flying telegraph poles and fields. Even +the worthiest, the gravest, the finest, she reflected, has a face, that +if seen in a certain light, will flash out the ignus fatuus of the +ridiculous; but it is not usually considered the office of friendship to +turn on the betraying light. Oh, well, her relatives would forgive in +time. Relatives <i>have</i> to forgive. It was unfortunate that John Graham +was not a relative. "One thing, I know now how much Mrs. Ferguson cares +because I got those six votes ahead of her for the Thursday Club +presidency—Half<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span> a dozen copies!" Melinda said aloud as she caught +sight of the spire of the Mossdale Church.</p> + +<p>Her Uncle Joe met her at the station and kissed her for the first time +since she had put on long dresses. Notwithstanding a foolish prejudice +against tobacco juice Melinda received the salute in a meek and contrite +spirit.</p> + +<p>"Notice how many citizens were hanging around underfoot on the depot +platform—so as you kinder had to stop and shake hands to get 'em out o' +the way?" Uncle Joe queried as he turned the colts' heads toward home.</p> + +<p>Melinda had noticed. "I suppose they came out to see the train come in," +she suggested.</p> + +<p>"Nope; not exactly." Uncle Joe explained, "Looking out for automo<i>biles</i> +and flying airships have made trains of cars seem mighty common up this +way. Nope; the folks was out on account of you a-comin'."</p> + +<p>"Me?" Having a guilty conscience Melinda glanced backward apprehensively +and made a motion as though to dodge a missile.</p> + +<p>"Yep; and you'll find a lot of the relations at the house a-waitin' for +you."</p> + +<p>"Why—what—? Now look here, Uncle Joe, there is no occasion to be +foolish about a little—"</p> + +<p>"Foolish? Now, mebby some would call it foolish, but us folks up the +creek here we can't help feelin' set up some over findin' out we have a +second Milton or a Mrs. Stowe in the fambly."</p> + +<p>Melinda looked at her relative's concave profile in sick suspicion. Was +the trail of the serpent over them all? But no, Uncle Joe was beaming +mildly with the satisfaction of having shown that although the literary +hemisphere was the un<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span>known land, he had heard of a mountain and a minor +elevation or two; he was, as she had always believed, incapable of +satire.</p> + +<p>For once Melinda was speechless. But Uncle Joe was likely to be fluent +when he got started. He cleared his throat and turned mild, suffused, +half-shamed blue eyes on his shrinking niece. "Yes, your piece has come +out in the paper, Melinda, and your folks are all-fired pleased with +you. I told Lucy this morning I wisht your poor Pap could come back to +earth for just this one day."</p> + +<p>"Ah-h!" Melinda took a firm grip on the side of the buggy. "But I guess +you'll have to write another right off. There is some jealousy amongst +them that aren't in it," Uncle Joe went on. "I told 'em you couldn't put +the whole connection in or it would read like a list of 'them present' +at a surprise party. Your Aunt Lucy, she's just as tickled as a hen with +three chickens." The old man chuckled. "There it is all down in black +and white just like it happened, only different, about her spasm of +economy when she was cleanin' away Mary Emmeline's medicine bottles and +couldn't bear to throw away what was left over, but up and took it all +herself in one powerful mixed dose to save it, and had to have the +doctor with a stomach-pump to cure her of spasms, what wasn't so +economical after all. It's her picture tickles her most."</p> + +<p>"Oh!" said Melinda.</p> + +<p>"Yes, you know the picture is as slim as a girl in her first pair o' +cossets a-standin' on a chair a-reachin' bottles off a top shelf, and +your Aunt Lucy's that hefty she hain't stood on a chair for ten years +for fear 'twould break down, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span> she's had to trust the top shelf to +the hired girl. I guess when she goes to Heaven she'll want to stop on +the way up and fix that top shelf to suit her. So she just sits and +looks at that picture and smiles and smiles. She likes my whiskers, too. +Yes, she's always wanted me to wear whiskers ever since we was married, +but we never was a whiskery fambly and they wouldn't seem to grow +thicker than your Uncle Josh's corn when he planted it one grain to the +hill. But there I am in the picture in the paper with real biblical +whiskers reachin' to the bottom o' my vest."</p> + +<p>Uncle Joe cleared his throat and glanced sideways at his niece again. "I +want to tell you, Melindy, that I am real obleeged to you for makin' me +one of the main ones in the piece with a lot to say. Your Aunt Lucy says +'twas only right and proper, me bein' your nighest kin and you livin' +with us; but I told her there was so many others that was smarter and +more the story-paper kind, that I thought it showed real good feelin' on +your part; yes, I did.—<i>G'up, there, Ginger!</i>—Then I kind o' thought +I'd warn you, too, Melindy, that they all are just a-dyin' to hear you +say who 'The Preacher' is. He's the only one we couldn't quite place."</p> + +<p>Melinda took the little bottle of smelling salts from her bag and held +it to her nose.</p> + +<p>"Yes," Uncle Joe went on, "the others was easy identified because you +had named the names; but him you just called 'The Preacher' all the way +through. Some says it's the Reverend Graham kind of toned down and +trimmed up like things you see in the moonlight on a summer night. But I +told them the Reverend Graham is a nice enough chap, but that that +extra-fine, way-up<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span> preacher fellow in the story must be some stranger +you knew from off and didn't give his name, because you didn't rightly +know what it was. I thought, even if you was so soft on Reverend Graham +as to see him in that illusory, moony light, that about the stranger +from off was the right and proper thing for me, being your uncle, to say +any way. So if you want to keep it dark about 'The Preacher' you can +just talk about a stranger from off."</p> + +<p>"I will, Uncle Joe—<i>dear</i> Uncle Joe." Melinda exclaimed gratefully as +they stopped in front of the gate.</p> + +<p>Melinda greeted her relatives with a warmth and enthusiasm that +embarrassed and made them suspicious. She was not usually so complacent, +so solicitous for the health and progress of offspring; above all she +was not usually so loth to talk about herself. She acted as though she +had never written a story, yet three copies of it were spread open under +her nose—one on the piano, one on the parlor table, one on the +sideboard—all open at the passage about "The Preacher."</p> + +<p>The relatives retired in disgust. With the departure of the last one +Melinda seized a magazine and fled to the orchard. She would read that +story herself. As she turned the leaves she caught sight of a manly form +carefully climbing the fence. She dropped the periodical and stood on +it, gazing up pensively into the well-laden boughs of the Baldwin.</p> + +<p>The Reverend Graham took her hands in a strong ministerial squeeze.</p> + +<p>"It is very good of you to come to see me so soon after my return," she +faltered.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Good—Melinda! Do you think I could help coming?" he ejaculated. "I can +not tell you—words are inadequate to express what I feel," he went +on,—"the deep gratitude, the humility, the wonder, the triumph, the +determination, with God's aid, to live up to the high ideal you have set +forth in your wonderful story. You have seen the latent qualities, the +nobler potentialities; you have shown me to myself. <i>Melinda!</i> Do not +think that I do not appreciate the difficulties of this hour for you. I +know how your heart is shrinking, how your delicate maidenly modesty is +up in arms. But Melinda, you know! you know! <i>Dear Melinda!</i>"</p> + +<p>"I am glad you understand me, John."</p> + +<p>"Understand you!" The Reverend Graham could restrain himself no longer. +He swept her into his arms, appropriating his own.</p> + +<p>Melinda remained there quiescently leaning against his shoulder, because +there seemed nothing else to do, also because it was a broad and +comfortable shoulder against which to lean. "I am done for," she +reflected. "Now I will never dare to confess that I was trying to be +humorous."</p> + +<p>Then she reached up a hand and touched the Preacher's face timidly. His +cheek was wet. "Why, John—<i>John!</i>" she whispered.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>ABOU BEN BUTLER</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">By John Paul</span></h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Abou, Ben Butler (may his tribe be less!)<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Awoke one night from a deep bottledness,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And saw, by the rich radiance of the moon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Which shone and shimmered like a silver spoon,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A stranger writing on a golden slate<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(Exceeding store had Ben of spoons and plate),<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And to the stranger in his tent he said:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"Your little game?" The stranger turned his head,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And, with a look made all of innocence,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Replied: "I write the name of Presidents."<br /></span> +<span class="i0">"And is mine one?" "Not if this court doth know<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Itself," replied the stranger. Ben said, "Oh!"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And "Ah!" but spoke again: "Just name your price<br /></span> +<span class="i0">To write me up as one that may be Vice."<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">The stranger up and vanished. The next night<br /></span> +<span class="i0">He came again, and showed a wondrous sight<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Of names that haply yet might fill the chair—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But, lo! the name of Butler was not there!<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span></div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>LATTER-DAY WARNINGS</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">By Oliver Wendell Holmes</span></h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When legislators keep the law,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">When banks dispense with bolts and locks,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When berries—whortle, rasp, and straw—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Grow bigger <i>downwards</i> through the box,—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When he that selleth house or land<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Shows leak in roof or flaw in right,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When haberdashers choose the stand<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Whose window hath the broadest light,—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When preachers tell us all they think,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And party leaders all they mean,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When what we pay for, that we drink,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">From real grape and coffee-bean,—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When lawyers take what they would give,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And doctors give what they would take,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When city fathers eat to live,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Save when they fast for conscience' sake,—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When one that hath a horse on sale<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Shall bring his merit to the proof,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Without a lie for every nail<br /></span> +<span class="i2">That holds the iron on the hoof,—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When in the usual place for rips<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Our gloves are stitched with special care,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And guarded well the whalebone tips<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Where first umbrellas need repair,</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span>—<br /> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When Cuba's weeds have quite forgot<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The power of suction to resist,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And claret-bottles harbor not<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Such dimples as would hold your fist,—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When publishers no longer steal,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And pay for what they stole before,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When the first locomotive's wheel<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Rolls through the Hoosac tunnel's bore;—<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0"><i>Till</i> then let Cumming blaze away,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And Miller's saints blow up the globe;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But when you see that blessed day,<br /></span> +<span class="i2"><i>Then</i> order your ascension robe!<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span></div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>IT PAYS TO BE HAPPY<a name="FNanchor_5_5" id="FNanchor_5_5"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_5" class="fnanchor">[5]</a></h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">By Tom Masson</span></h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">She is so gay, so very gay,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And not by fits and starts,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But ever, through each livelong day<br /></span> +<span class="i2">She's sunshine to all hearts.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">A tonic is her merry laugh!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">So wondrous is her power<br /></span> +<span class="i0">That listening grief would stop and chaff<br /></span> +<span class="i2">With her from hour to hour.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Disease before that cheery smile<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Grows dim, begins to fade.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A Christian scientist, meanwhile,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Is this delightful maid.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">And who would not throw off dull care<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And be like unto her,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">When happiness brings, as her share,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">One hundred dollars per ——?<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span></p> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>THE MOSQUITO</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">By William Cullen Bryant</span></h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Fair insect! that, with thread-like legs spread out,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And blood-extracting bill, and filmy wing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dost murmur, as thou slowly sail'st about,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">In pitiless ears, fall many a plaintive thing,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And tell how little our large veins should bleed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Would we but yield them to thy bitter need.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Unwillingly, I own, and, what is worse,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Full angrily, men listen to thy plaint;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou gettest many a brush and many a curse,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">For saying thou art gaunt, and starved, and faint.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Even the old beggar, while he asks for food,<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Would kill thee, hapless stranger, if he could.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I call thee stranger, for the town, I ween,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Has not the honor of so proud a birth:<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou com'st from Jersey meadows, fresh and green,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The offspring of the gods, though born on earth;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">For Titan was thy sire, and fair was she,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The ocean-nymph that nursed thy infancy.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Beneath the rushes was they cradle swung,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And when at length thy gauzy wings grew strong,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Abroad to gentle airs their folds were flung,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Rose in the sky and bore thee soft along;</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span><br /> +<span class="i0">The south wind breathed to waft thee on thy way,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And danced and shone beneath the billowy bay.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Calm rose afar the city spires, and thence<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Came the deep murmur of its throng of men,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And as its grateful odors met thy sense,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">They seemed the perfumes of thy native fen.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fair lay its crowded streets, and at the sight<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy tiny song grew shriller with delight.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">At length thy pinion fluttered in Broadway,—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Ah, there were fairy steps, and white necks kissed<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By wanton airs, and eyes whose killing ray<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Shone through the snowy veils like stars through mist;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And fresh as morn, on many a cheek and chin,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Bloomed the bright blood through the transparent skin.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Sure these were sights to tempt an anchorite!<br /></span> +<span class="i2">What! do I hear thy slender voice complain?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou wailest when I talk of beauty's light,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As if it brought the memory of pain.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou art a wayward being—well, come near,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And pour thy tale of sorrow in mine ear.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">What say'st thou, slanderer! rouge makes thee sick?<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And China Bloom at best is sorry food?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And Rowland's Kalydor, if laid on thick,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Poisons the thirsty wretch that bores for blood?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Go! 'twas a just reward that met thy crime;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But shun the sacrilege another time.</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span><br /> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">That bloom was made to look at,—not to touch;<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To worship, not approach, that radiant white;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And well might sudden vengeance light on such<br /></span> +<span class="i2">As dared, like thee, most impiously to bite.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thou shouldst have gazed at distance, and admired,—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Murmured thy admiration and retired.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Thou'rt welcome to the town; but why come here<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To bleed a brother poet, gaunt like thee?<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Alas! the little blood I have is dear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And thin will be the banquet drawn from me.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Look round: the pale-eyed sisters in my cell,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Thy old acquaintance, Song and Famine, dwell.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Try some plump alderman, and suck the blood<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Enriched by generous wine and costly meat;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On well-filled skins, sleek as thy native mud,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Fix thy light pump, and press thy freckled feet.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Go to the men for whom, in ocean's halls,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The oyster breeds and the green turtle sprawls.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">There corks are drawn, and the red vintage flows,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">To fill the swelling veins for thee, and now<br /></span> +<span class="i0">The ruddy cheek and now the ruddier nose<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Shall tempt thee, as thou flittest round the brow;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And when the hour of sleep its quiet brings,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No angry hand shall rise to brush thy wings.<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span></div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>"TIDDLE-IDDLE-IDDLE-IDDLE-BUM! BUM!"</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">By Wilbur D. Nesbit</span></h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">When our town band gets on the square<br /></span> +<span class="i0">On concert night you'll find me there.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'm right beside Elijah Plumb,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who plays th' cymbals an' bass drum;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' next to him is Henry Dunn,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Who taps the little tenor one.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I like to hear our town band play,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But, best it does, I want to say,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Is when they tell a tune's to come<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Tiddle-iddle-iddle-iddle-<br /></span> +<span class="i12">Bum-Bum!"<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">O' course, there's some that likes the tunes<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Like <i>Lily Dale</i> an' <i>Ragtime Coons</i>;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Some likes a solo or duet<br /></span> +<span class="i0">By Charley Green—B-flat cornet—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' Ernest Brown—th' trombone man.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">(An' they can play, er no one can);<br /></span> +<span class="i0">But it's the best when Henry Dunn<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Lets them there sticks just cut an' run,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' 'Lijah says to let her hum<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Tiddle-iddle-iddle-iddle-<br /></span> +<span class="i12">Bum-Bum!"</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span><br /> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">I don't know why, ner what's the use<br /></span> +<span class="i0">O' havin' that to interduce<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A tune—but I know, as fer me<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I'd ten times over ruther see<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Elijah Plumb chaw with his chin,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A-gettin' ready to begin,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">While Henry plays that roll o' his<br /></span> +<span class="i0">An' makes them drumsticks fairly sizz,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Announcin' music, on th' drum,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">With<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"Tiddle-iddle-iddle-iddle-<br /></span> +<span class="i12">Bum-Bum!"<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span></div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>MY FIRST CIGAR</h2> + +<h3><span class="smcap">By Robert J. Burdette</span></h3> + + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">'Twas just behind the woodshed,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">One glorious summer day,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Far o'er the hills the sinking sun<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Pursued his westward way;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And in my safe seclusion<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Removed from all the jar<br /></span> +<span class="i0">And din of earth's confusion<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I smoked my first cigar.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">It was my first cigar!<br /></span> +<span class="i4">It was the worst cigar!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Raw, green and dank, hide-bound and rank<br /></span> +<span class="i4">It was my first cigar!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Ah, bright the boyish fancies<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Wrapped in the smoke-wreaths blue;<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My eyes grew dim, my head was light,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The woodshed round me flew!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Dark night closed in around me—<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Black night, without a star—<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Grim death methought had found me<br /></span> +<span class="i2">And spoiled my first cigar.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">It was my first cigar!<br /></span> +<span class="i4">A six-for-five cigar!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No viler torch the air could scorch—<br /></span> +<span class="i4">It was my first cigar!</span><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span><br /> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">All pallid was my beaded brow,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">The reeling night was late,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">My startled mother cried in fear,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">"My child, what have you ate?"<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I heard my father's smothered laugh,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">It seemed so strange and far,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I knew he knew I knew he knew<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I'd smoked my first cigar!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">It was my first cigar!<br /></span> +<span class="i4">A give-away cigar!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I could not die—I knew not why—<br /></span> +<span class="i4">It was my first cigar!<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">Since then I've stood in reckless ways,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I've dared what men can dare,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I've mocked at danger, walked with death,<br /></span> +<span class="i2">I've laughed at pain and care.<br /></span> +<span class="i0">I do not dread what may befall<br /></span> +<span class="i2">'Neath my malignant star,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">No frowning fate again can make<br /></span> +<span class="i2">Me smoke my first cigar.<br /></span> +</div><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i4">I've smoked my first cigar!<br /></span> +<span class="i4">My first and worst cigar!<br /></span> +<span class="i0">Fate has no terrors for the man<br /></span> +<span class="i4">Who's smoked his first cigar!<br /></span> +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span></div></div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>A BULLY BOAT AND A BRAG CAPTAIN</h2> + +<h3><i>A Story of Steamboat Life on the Mississippi</i></h3> + +<h3><span class="smcap">By Sol Smith</span></h3> + + +<p>Does any one remember the <i>Caravan</i>? She was what would now be +considered a slow boat—<i>then</i> (1827) she was regularly advertised as +the "fast running," etc. Her regular trips from New Orleans to Natchez +were usually made in from six to eight days; a trip made by her in five +days was considered remarkable. A voyage from New Orleans to Vicksburg +and back, including stoppages, generally entitled the officers and crew +to a month's wages. Whether the <i>Caravan</i> ever achieved the feat of a +voyage to the Falls (Louisville) I have never learned; if she did, she +must have "had a <i>time</i> of it!"</p> + +<p>It was my fate to take passage in this boat. The Captain was a +good-natured, easy-going man, careful of the comfort of his passengers, +and exceedingly fond of the <i>game of brag</i>. We had been out a little +more than five days, and we were in hopes of seeing the bluffs of +Natchez on the next day. Our wood was getting low, and night coming on. +The pilot on duty <i>above</i> (the other pilot held three aces at the time, +and was just calling out the Captain, who "went it strong" on three +kings) sent down word that the mate had reported the stock of wood +reduced to half a cord. The worthy Captain excused him<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span>self to the pilot +whose watch was <i>below</i> and the two passengers who made up the party, +and hurried to the deck, where he soon discovered by the landmarks that +we were about half a mile from a woodyard, which he said was situated +"right round yonder point." "But," muttered the Captain, "I don't much +like to take wood of the yellow-faced old scoundrel who owns it—he +always charges a quarter of a dollar more than any one else; however, +there's no other chance." The boat was pushed to her utmost, and in a +little less than an hour, when our fuel was about giving out, we made +the point, and our cables were out and fastened to trees alongside of a +good-sized wood pile.</p> + +<p>"Hallo, Colonel! How d'ye sell your wood <i>this</i> time?"</p> + +<p>A yellow-faced old gentleman, with a two-weeks' beard, strings over his +shoulders holding up to his armpits a pair of copperas-colored +linsey-woolsey pants, the legs of which reached a very little below the +knee; shoes without stockings; a faded, broad-brimmed hat, which had +once been black, and a pipe in his mouth—casting a glance at the empty +guards of our boat and uttering a grunt as he rose from fastening our +"spring line," answered:</p> + +<p>"Why, Capting, we must charge you <i>three and a quarter</i> <span class="smcap">this</span> <i>time</i>."</p> + +<p>"The d—l!" replied the Captain—(captains did swear a little in those +days); "what's the odd <i>quarter</i> for, I should like to know? You only +charged me <i>three</i> as I went down."</p> + +<p>"Why, Captaing," drawled out the wood merchant, with a sort of leer on +his yellow countenance, which clearly indicated that his wood<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span> was as +good as sold, "wood's riz since you went down two weeks ago; besides, +you are awar that you very seldom stop going <i>down</i>—when you're going +<i>up</i> you're sometimes obleeged to give me a call, becaze the current's +aginst you, and there's no other woodyard for nine miles ahead; and if +you happen to be nearly out of fooel, why—"</p> + +<p>"Well, well," interrupted the Captain, "we'll take a few cords, under +the circumstances," and he returned to his game of brag.</p> + +<p>In about half an hour we felt the <i>Caravan</i> commence paddling again. +Supper was over, and I retired to my upper berth, situated alongside and +overlooking the brag-table, where the Captain was deeply engaged, having +now the <i>other</i> pilot as his principal opponent. We jogged on +quietly—and seemed to be going at a good rate.</p> + +<p>"How does that wood burn?" inquired the Captain of the mate, who was +looking on at the game.</p> + +<p>"'Tisn't of much account, I reckon," answered the mate; "it's +cottonwood, and most of it green at that."</p> + +<p>"Well Thompson—(Three aces again, stranger—I'll take that X and the +small change, if you please. It's your deal)—Thompson, I say, we'd +better take three or four cords at the next woodyard—it can't be more +than six miles from here—(Two aces and a bragger, with the age! Hand +over those V's)."</p> + +<p>The game went on, and the paddles kept moving. At eleven o'clock it was +reported to the Captain that we were nearing the woodyard, the light +being distinctly seen by the pilot on duty.</p> + +<p>"Head her in shore, then, and take in six cords<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span> if it's good—see to +it, Thompson; I can't very well leave the game now—it's getting right +warm! This pilot's beating us all to smash."</p> + +<p>The wooding completed, we paddled on again. The Captain seemed somewhat +vexed when the mate informed him that the price was the same as at the +last woodyard—<i>three and a quarter</i>; but soon again became interested +in the game.</p> + +<p>From my upper berth (there were no state-rooms <i>then</i>) I could observe +the movements of the players. All the contention appeared to be between +the Captain and the pilots (the latter personages took it turn and turn +about, steering and playing brag), <i>one</i> of them almost invariably +winning, while the two passengers merely went through the ceremony of +dealing, cutting, and paying up their "anties." They were anxious to +<i>learn the game</i>—and they <i>did</i> learn it! Once in a while, indeed, +seeing they had two aces and a bragger, they would venture a bet of five +or ten dollars, but they were always compelled to back out before the +tremendous bragging of the Captain or pilot—or if they did venture to +"call out" on "two bullits and a bragger," they had the mortification to +find one of the officers had the same kind of a hand, and were <i>more +venerable</i>! Still, with all these disadvantages, they continued +playing—they wanted to learn the game.</p> + +<p>At two o'clock the Captain asked the mate how we were getting on.</p> + +<p>"Oh, pretty glibly, sir," replied the mate; "we can scarcely tell what +headway we <i>are</i> making, for we are obliged to keep the middle of the +river, and there is the shadow of a fog rising. This wood seems rather +better than that we took in at Yellow-Face's, but we're nearly out +again, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span> must be looking out for more. I saw a light just ahead on +the right—shall we hail?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes," replied the Captain; "ring the bell and ask 'em what's the +price of wood up here, (I've got you again; here's double kings.)"</p> + +<p>I heard the bell and the pilot's hail, "What's' <i>your</i> price for wood?"</p> + +<p>A youthful voice on the shore answered, "Three <i>and</i> a quarter!"</p> + +<p>"D—nèt!" ejaculated the Captain, who had just lost the price of two +cords to the pilot—the strangers suffering <i>some</i> at the same +time—"three and a quarter again! Are we <i>never</i> to get to a cheaper +country? (Deal, sir, if you please; better luck next time.)"</p> + +<p>The other pilot's voice was again heard on deck:</p> + +<p>"How much <i>have</i> you?"</p> + +<p>"Only about ten cords, sir," was the reply of the youthful salesman.</p> + +<p>The Captain here told Thompson to take six cords, which would last till +daylight—and again turned his attention to the game.</p> + +<p>The pilots here changed places. <i>When did they sleep?</i></p> + +<p>Wood taken in, the <i>Caravan</i> again took her place in the middle of the +stream, paddling on as usual.</p> + +<p>Day at length dawned. The brag-party broke up and settlements were being +made, during which operation the Captain's bragging propensities were +exercised in cracking up the speed of his boat, which, by his reckoning, +must have made at least sixty miles, and <i>would</i> have made many more if +he could have procured good wood. It appears the two passengers, in +their first lesson, had inci<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span>dentally lost one hundred and twenty +dollars. The Captain, as he rose to see about taking in some <i>good</i> +wood, which he felt sure of obtaining now that he had got above the +level country, winked at his opponent, the pilot, with whom he had been +on very bad terms during the progress of the game, and said, in an +undertone, "Forty apiece for you and I and James (the other pilot) is +not bad for one night."</p> + +<p>I had risen and went out with the Captain, to enjoy a view of the +bluffs. There was just fog enough to prevent the vision taking in more +than sixty yards—so I was disappointed in <i>my</i> expectation. We were +nearing the shore, for the purpose of looking for wood, the banks being +invisible from the middle of the river.</p> + +<p>"There it is!" exclaimed the Captain; "stop her!" Ding—ding—ding! went +the big bell, and the Captain hailed:</p> + +<p>"Hallo! the woodyard!"</p> + +<p>"Hallo yourself!" answered a squeaking female voice, which came from a +woman with a petticoat over her shoulders in place of a shawl.</p> + +<p>"What's the price of wood?"</p> + +<p>"I think you ought to know the price by this time," answered the old +lady in the petticoat; "it's three and a qua-a-rter! and now you know +it."</p> + +<p>"Three and the d—l!" broke in the Captain. "What, have you raised on +<i>your</i> wood, too? I'll give you <i>three</i>, and not a cent more."</p> + +<p>"Well," replied the petticoat, "here comes the old man—<i>he'll</i> talk to +you."</p> + +<p>And, sure enough, out crept from the cottage the veritable faded hat, +copperas-colored pants, yellow countenance and two weeks' beard we had +seen the night before, and the same voice we had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span> heard regulating the +price of cottonwood squeaked out the following sentence, accompanied by +the same leer of the same yellow countenance:</p> + +<p>"Why, darn it all, Capting, there is but three or four cords left, and +<i>since it's you</i>, I don't care if I <i>do</i> let you have it for +<i>three</i>—<i>as you're a good customer</i>!"</p> + +<p>After a quick glance at the landmarks around, the Captain bolted, and +turned in to take some rest.</p> + +<p>The fact became apparent—the reader will probably have discovered it +some time since—that <i>we had been wooding all night at the same +woodyard</i>!</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>FOOTNOTES:</h2> + + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> By permission of Life Publishing Company.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_2_2" id="Footnote_2_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> Lippincott's Magazine.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_3_3" id="Footnote_3_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_3"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> Lippincott's Magazine.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_4_4" id="Footnote_4_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_4"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> From "Nautical Lays of a Landsman," by Wallace Irwin. +Copyright, 1904, by Dodd, Mead & Co.</p></div> + +<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_5_5" id="Footnote_5_5"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_5"><span class="label">[5]</span></a> Lippincott's Magazine.</p></div> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Wit and Humor of America, Volume +V. 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Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + http://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + +*** END: FULL LICENSE *** + + + +</pre> + +</body> +</html> + diff --git a/19323-h/images/aldrich.jpg b/19323-h/images/aldrich.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..9e924fe --- /dev/null +++ b/19323-h/images/aldrich.jpg diff --git a/19323.txt b/19323.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..cbf8898 --- /dev/null +++ b/19323.txt @@ -0,0 +1,7042 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Wit and Humor of America, Volume V. (of +X.), by Various + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Wit and Humor of America, Volume V. (of X.) + +Author: Various + +Editor: Marshall P. Wilder + +Release Date: September 18, 2006 [EBook #19323] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WIT AND HUMOR OF *** + + + + +Produced by Barbara Tozier, Bill Tozier, Suzanne Lybarger +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + +[Transcriber's Note: Unlike the other volumes of _The Wit and Humor of +America_ in Project Gutenberg, Volume V was not prepared from the +"Library Edition," and thus has discontinuous page numbers and will not +match the index in Volume X. In addition, a few pieces in Volume V are +duplicated in Volume VI, but all have been retained as printed in each +edition.] + + + + +[Illustration: THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH] + + + + +THE WIT AND HUMOR OF AMERICA + +_Edited by_ MARSHALL P. WILDER + +VOLUME V + + +FUNK & WAGNALLS COMPANY +NEW YORK AND LONDON + +COPYRIGHT 1907, BY BOBBS-MERRILL COMPANY +COPYRIGHT 1911, BY THE THWING COMPANY + +_Printed in the United States of America_ + + + + +CONTENTS + + + PAGE + Abou Ben Butler _John Paul_ 211 + At Aunty's House _James Whitcomb Riley_ 70 + Bill's Courtship _Frank L. Stanton_ 42 + Bully Boat and a Brag Captain, A _Sol Smith_ 222 + Committee from Kelly's, A _J.V.Z. Belden_ 151 + Co-operative Housekeepers, The _Elliott Flower_ 149 + Drayman, The _Daniel O'Connell_ 40 + Dutiful Mariner, The _Wallace Irwin_ 198 + Especially Men _George Randolph Chester_ 160 + Farewell _Bert Leston Taylor_ 194 + Funny Little Fellow, The _James Whitcomb Riley_ 28 + Going Up and Coming Down _Mary F. Tucker_ 10 + Have You Seen the Lady? _John Philip Sousa_ 27 + Her "Angel" Father _Elliott Flower_ 159 + Itinerant Tinker, The _Charles Raymond Macauley_ 74 + It Pays to be Happy _Tom Masson_ 214 + Latter-Day Warnings _Oliver Wendell Holmes_ 212 + Lectures on Astronomy _John Phoenix_ 54 + Letter from a Self-Made Merchant + to His Son, A _George Horace Lorimer_ 186 + Marriage of Sir John Smith, The _Phoebe Cary_ 7 + Melinda's Humorous Story _May McHenry_ 200 + Miss Legion _Bert Leston Taylor_ 26 + Mosquito, The _William Cullen Bryant_ 215 + Mr. Dooley on Expert Testimony _Finley Peter Dunne_ 51 + Mr. Hare Tries to Get a Wife _Anne Virginia Culbertson_ 142 + Musical Review Extraordinary _John Phoenix_ 30 + My First Cigar _Robert J. Burdette_ 220 + My Ruthers _James Whitcomb Riley_ 197 + Night in a Rocking-Chair, A _Kate Field_ 124 + Old Grimes _Albert Gorton Greene_ 24 + Piano in Arkansas, A _Thomas Bangs Thorpe_ 112 + Quit Yo' Worryin' _Anne Virginia Culbertson_ 157 + Rollo Learning to Play _Robert J. Burdette_ 132 + Runaway Boy, The _James Whitcomb Riley_ 38 + Set of China, The _Elisa Leslie_ 12 + Simon Starts in the World _J.J. Hooper_ 96 + Spring Beauties, The _Helen Avery Cone_ 9 + Strike of One, The _Elliott Flower_ 84 + Suppressed Chapters _Carolyn Wells_ 22 + Tiddle-Iddle-Iddle-Iddle-Bum! Bum! _Wilbur D. Nesbit_ 218 + Whar Dem Sinful Apples Grow _Anne Virginia Culbertson_ 121 + Willy and the Lady _Gelett Burgess_ 72 + Woman Who Married an Owl, The _Anne Virginia Culbertson_ 44 + +COMPLETE INDEX AT THE END OF VOLUME X. + + + + +THE WIT AND HUMOR OF AMERICA + + + + +THE MARRIAGE OF SIR JOHN SMITH + +BY PHOEBE CARY + + + Not a sigh was heard, nor a funeral tone, + As the man to his bridal we hurried; + Not a woman discharged her farewell groan, + On the spot where the fellow was married. + + We married him just about eight at night, + Our faces paler turning, + By the struggling moonbeam's misty light, + And the gas-lamp's steady burning. + + No useless watch-chain covered his vest, + Nor over-dressed we found him; + But he looked like a gentleman wearing his best, + With a few of his friends around him. + + Few and short were the things we said, + And we spoke not a word of sorrow, + But we silently gazed on the man that was wed, + And we bitterly thought of the morrow. + + We thought, as we silently stood about, + With spite and anger dying, + How the merest stranger had cut us out, + With only half our trying. + + Lightly we'll talk of the fellow that's gone, + And oft for the past upbraid him; + But little he'll reck if we let him live on, + In the house where his wife conveyed him. + + But our hearty task at length was done, + When the clock struck the hour for retiring; + And we heard the spiteful squib and pun + The girls were sullenly firing. + + Slowly and sadly we turned to go,-- + We had struggled, and we were human; + We shed not a tear, and we spoke not our woe, + But we left him alone with his woman. + + + + +THE SPRING BEAUTIES + +BY HELEN AVERY CONE + + + The Puritan Spring Beauties stood freshly clad for church; + A thrush, white-breasted, o'er them sat singing on his perch. + "Happy be! for fair are ye!" the gentle singer told them; + But presently a buff-coat Bee came booming up to scold them. + "Vanity, oh, vanity! + Young maids, beware of vanity!" + Grumbled out the buff-coat Bee, + Half parson-like, half soldierly. + + The sweet-faced maidens trembled, with pretty, pinky blushes, + Convinced that it was wicked to listen to the thrushes; + And when that shady afternoon, I chanced that way to pass, + They hung their little bonnets down and looked into the grass. + All because the buff-coat Bee + Lectured them so solemnly-- + "Vanity, oh, vanity! + Young maids, beware of vanity!" + + + + +GOING UP AND COMING DOWN + +BY MARY F. TUCKER + + + This is a simple song, 'tis true-- + My songs are never over-nice,-- + And yet I'll try and scatter through + A little pinch of good advice. + Then listen, pompous friend, and learn + To never boast of much renown, + For fortune's wheel is on the turn, + And some go up and some come down. + + I know a vast amount of stocks, + A vast amount of pride insures; + But Fate has picked so many locks + I wouldn't like to warrant yours. + Remember, then, and never spurn + The one whose hand is hard and brown, + For he is likely to go up, + And you are likely to come down. + + Another thing you will agree, + (The truth may be as well confessed) + That "Codfish Aristocracy" + Is but a scaly thing at best. + And Madame in her robe of lace, + And Bridget in her faded gown, + Both represent a goodly race, + From father Adam handed down. + + Life is uncertain--full of change; + Little we have that will endure; + And 't were a doctrine new and strange + That places high are most secure; + And if the fickle goddess smile, + Yielding the scepter and the crown, + 'Tis only for a little while, + Then B. goes up and A. comes down. + + This world, for all of us, my friend + Hath something more than pounds and pence; + Then let me humbly recommend, + A little use of common sense. + Thus lay all pride of place aside, + And have a care on whom you frown; + For fear you'll see him going up, + When you are only coming down. + + + + +THE SET OF CHINA + +BY ELIZA LESLIE + + +"Mr. Gummage," said Mrs. Atmore, as she entered a certain +drawing-school, at that time the most fashionable in Philadelphia, "I +have brought you a new pupil, my daughter, Miss Marianne Atmore. Have +you a vacancy?" + +"Why, I can't say that I have," replied Mr. Gummage; "I never have +vacancies." + +"I am very sorry to hear it," said Mrs. Atmore; and Miss Marianne, a +tall, handsome girl of fifteen, looked disappointed. + +"But perhaps I could strain a point, and find a place for her," resumed +Mr. Gummage, who knew very well that he never had the smallest idea of +limiting the number of his pupils, and that if twenty more were to +apply, he would take them every one, however full his school might be. + +"Do pray, Mr. Gummage," said Mrs. Atmore; "do try and make an exertion +to admit my daughter; I shall regard it as a particular favor." + +"Well, I believe she may come," replied Gummage: "I suppose I can take +her. Has she any turn for drawing?" + +"I don't know," answered Mrs. Atmore, "she has never tried." + +"Well, madam," said Mr. Gummage, "what do you wish your daughter to +learn? figures, flowers, or landscape?" + +"Oh! all three," replied Mrs. Atmore. "We have been furnishing our new +house, and I told Mr. Atmore that he need not get any pictures for the +front parlor, as I would much prefer having them all painted by +Marianne. She has been four quarters with Miss Julia, and has worked +Friendship and Innocence, which cost, altogether, upwards of a hundred +dollars. Do you know the piece, Mr. Gummage? There is a tomb with a +weeping willow, and two ladies with long hair, one dressed in pink, the +other in blue, holding a wreath between them over the top of the urn. +The ladies are Friendship. Then on the right hand of the piece is a +cottage, and an oak, and a little girl dressed in yellow, sitting on a +green bank, and putting a wreath round the neck of a lamb. Nothing can +be more natural than the lamb's wool. It is done entirely in French +knots. The child and the lamb are Innocence." + +"Ay, ay," said Gummage, "I know the piece well enough--I've drawn them +by dozens." + +"Well," continued Mrs. Atmore, "this satin piece hangs over the front +parlor mantel. It is much prettier and better done than the one Miss +Longstitch worked of Charlotte at the tomb of Werter, though she did sew +silver spangles all over Charlotte's lilac gown, and used chenille, at a +fi'-penny-bit a needleful, for all the banks and the large tree. Now, as +the mantel-piece is provided for, I wish a landscape for each of the +recesses, and a figure-piece to hang on each side of the large +looking-glass, with flower-pieces under them, all by Marianne. Can she +do all these in one quarter?" + +"No, that she can't," replied Gummage; "it will take her two quarters +hard work, and maybe three, to get through the whole of them." + +"Well, I won't stand about a quarter more or less," said Mrs. Atmore; +"but what I wish Marianne to do most particularly, and, indeed, the +chief reason why I send her to drawing-school just now, is a pattern for +a set of china that we are going to have made in Canton. I was told the +other day by a New York lady (who was quite tired of the queer unmeaning +things which are generally put on India ware), that she had sent a +pattern for a tea-set, drawn by her daughter, and that every article +came out with the identical device beautifully done on the china, all in +the proper colors. She said it was talked of all over New York, and that +people who had never been at the house before, came to look at and +admire it. No doubt it was a great feather in her daughter's cap." + +"Possibly, madam," said Gummage. + +"And now," resumed Mrs. Atmore, "since I heard this, I have thought of +nothing else than having the same thing done in my family; only I shall +send for a dinner set, and a very long one, too. Mr. Atmore tells me +that the _Voltaire_, one of Stephen Girard's ships, sails for Canton +early next month, and he is well acquainted with the captain, who will +attend to the order for the china. I suppose in the course of a +fortnight Marianne will have learned drawing enough to enable her to do +the pattern?" + +"Oh! yes, madam--quite enough," replied Gummage, suppressing a laugh. + + * * * * * + +"To cut the matter short," said Mr. Gummage, "the best thing for the +china is a flower-piece--a basket, or a wreath--or something of that +sort. You can have a good cipher in the center, and the colors may be +as bright as you please. India ware is generally painted with one color +only; but the Chinese are submissive animals, and will do just as they +are bid. It may cost something more to have a variety of colors, but I +suppose you will not mind that." + +"Oh! no--no," exclaimed Mrs. Atmore, "I shall not care for the price; I +have set my mind on having this china the wonder of all Philadelphia." + +Our readers will understand, that at this period nearly all the +porcelain used in America was of Chinese manufacture; very little of +that elegant article having been, as yet, imported from France. + +A wreath was selected from the portfolio that contained the engravings +and drawings of flowers. It was decided that Marianne should first +execute it the full size of the model (which was as large as nature), +that she might immediately have a piece to frame; and that she was +afterwards to make a smaller copy of it, as a border for all the +articles of the china set; the middle to be ornamented with the letter +A, in gold, surrounded by the rays of a golden star. Sprigs and tendrils +of the flowers were to branch down from the border, so as nearly to +reach the gilding in the middle. The large wreath that was intended to +frame was to bear in its center the initials of Marianne Atmore, being +the letters M.A. painted in shell gold. + +"And so," said Mr. Gummage, "having a piece to frame, and a pattern for +your china, you'll kill two birds with one stone." + +On the following Monday, the young lady came to take her first lesson, +followed by a mulatto boy, carrying a little black morocco trunk, that +contained a four-row box of Reeves's colors, with an assortment of +camel's-hair pencils, half a dozen white saucers, a water cup, a +lead-pencil and a piece of India rubber. Mr. Gummage immediately +supplied her with two bristle brushes, and sundry little shallow earthen +cups, each containing a modicum of some sort of body color, massicot, +flake-white, etc., prepared by himself and charged at a quarter of a +dollar apiece, and which he told her she would want when she came to do +landscapes and figures. + +Mr. Gummage's style was to put in the sky, water and distances with +opaque paints, and the most prominent objects with transparent colors. +This was probably the reason that his foregrounds seemed always to be +sunk in his backgrounds. The model was scarcely considered as a guide, +for he continually told his pupils that they must try to excel it; and +he helped them to do so by making all his skies deep red fire at the +bottom, and dark blue smoke at the top; and exactly reversing the colors +on the water, by putting red at the top and the blue at the bottom. The +distant mountains were lilac and white, and the near rocks buff color, +shaded with purple. The castles and abbeys were usually gamboge. The +trees were dabbed and dotted in with a large bristle brush, so that the +foliage looked like a green frog. The foam of the cascades resembled a +concourse of wigs, scuffling together and knocking the powder out of +each other, the spray being always fizzed on with one of the aforesaid +bristle brushes. All the dark shadows in every part of the picture were +done with a mixture of Persian blue and bistre, and of these two colors +there was consequently a vast consumption in Mr. Gummage's school. At +the period of our story, many of the best houses in Philadelphia were +decorated with these landscapes. But for the honor of my townspeople I +must say that the taste for such productions is now entirely obsolete. +We may look forward to the time, which we trust is not far distant, when +the elements of drawing will be taught in every school, and considered +as indispensable to education as a knowledge of writing. It has long +been our belief that _any_ child may, with proper instruction, be made +to draw, as easily as any child may be made to write. We are rejoiced to +find that so distinguished an artist as Rembrandt Peale has avowed the +same opinion, in giving to the world his invaluable little work on +Graphics: in which he has clearly demonstrated the affinity between +drawing and writing, and admirably exemplified the leading principles of +both. + +Marianne's first attempt at the great wreath was awkward enough. After +she had spent five or six afternoons at the outline, and made it +triangular rather than circular, and found it impossible to get in the +sweet-pea, and the convolvulus, and lost and bewildered herself among +the multitude of leaves that formed the cup of the rose, Mr. Gummage +snatched the pencil from her hand, rubbed out the whole, and then drew +it himself. It must be confessed that his forte lay in flowers, and he +was extremely clever at them, "but," as he expressed it, "his scholars +chiefly ran upon landscapes." + +After he had sketched the wreath, he directed Marianne to rub the colors +for her flowers, while he put in Miss Smithson's rocks. + +When Marianne had covered all her saucers with colors, and wasted ten +times as much as was necessary, she was eager to commence painting, as +she called it; and in trying to wash the rose with lake, she daubed it +on of crimson thickness. When Mr. Gummage saw it, he gave her a severe +reprimand for meddling with her own piece. It was with great difficulty +that the superabundant color was removed; and he charged her to let the +flowers alone till he was ready to wash them for her. He worked a little +at the piece every day, forbidding Marianne to touch it; and she +remained idle while he was putting in skies, mountains, etc., for the +other young ladies. + +At length the wreath was finished--Mr. Gummage having only sketched it, +and washed it, and given it the last touches. It was put into a splendid +frame, and shown as Miss Marianne Atmore's first attempt at painting: +and everybody exclaimed, "What an excellent teacher Mr. Gummage must be! +How fast he brings on his pupils!" + +In the meantime, she undertook at home to make the small copy that was +to go to China. But she was now "at a dead lock," and found it utterly +impossible to advance a step without Mr. Gummage. It was then thought +best that she should do it at school--meaning that Mr. Gummage should do +it for her, while she looked out the window. + +The whole was at last satisfactorily accomplished, even to the gilt +star, with the A in the center. It was taken home and compared with the +larger wreath, and found still prettier, and shone as Marianne's to the +envy of all mothers whose daughters could not furnish models for china. +It was finally given in charge to the captain of the _Voltaire_, with +injunctions to order a dinner-set exactly according to the pattern, and +to prevent the possibility of a mistake, a written direction accompanied +it. + +The ship sailed--and Marianne continued three quarters at Mr. Gummage's +school, where she nominally affected another flower-piece, and also +perpetrated Kemble in Rolla, Edwin and Angelina, the Falls of +Schuylkill, and the Falls of Niagara, all of which were duly framed, and +hung in their appointed places. + +During the year that followed the departure of the ship _Voltaire_ great +impatience for her return was manifested by the ladies of the Atmore +family,--anxious to see how the china would look, and frequently hoping +that the colors would be bright enough, and none of the flowers +omitted--that the gilding would be rich, and everything inserted in its +proper place, exactly according to the pattern. Mrs. Atmore's only +regret was, that she had not sent for a tea-set also; not that she was +in want of one, but then it would be so much better to have a dinner-set +and a tea-set precisely alike, and Marianne's beautiful wreath on all. + +"Why, my dear," said Mr. Atmore, "how often have I heard you say that +you would never have another _tea_-set from Canton, because the Chinese +persist in making the principal articles of such old-fashioned, awkward +shapes. For my part, I always disliked the tall coffee-pots, with their +straight spouts, looking like light-houses with bowsprits to them; and +the short, clumsy teapots, with their twisted handles, and lids that +always fall off." + +"To be sure," said Mrs. Atmore, "I have been looking forward to the +time when we can get a French tea-set upon tolerable terms. But in the +meanwhile I should be very glad to have cups and saucers with Marianne's +beautiful wreath, and of course when we use them on the table we should +always bring forward our silver pots." + +Spring returned, and there was much watching of the vanes, and great joy +when they pointed easterly, and the ship-news now became the most +interesting column of the papers. A vessel that had sailed from New York +to Canton on the same day the _Voltaire_ departed from Philadelphia had +already got in; therefore, the _Voltaire_ might be hourly expected. At +length she was reported below; and at this period the river Delaware +suffered much, in comparison with the river Hudson, owing to the +tediousness of its navigation from the capes to the city. + +At last the _Voltaire_ cast anchor at the foot of Market Street, and our +ladies could scarcely refrain from walking down to the wharf to see the +ship that held the box that held the china. But invitations were +immediately sent out for a long projected dinner-party, which Mrs. +Atmore had persuaded her husband to defer till they could exhibit the +beautiful new porcelain. + +The box was landed, and conveyed to the house. The whole family were +present at the opening, which was performed in the dining-room by Mr. +Atmore himself--all the servants peeping in at the door. As soon as a +part of the lid was split off, and a handful of the straw removed, a +pile of plates appeared, all separately wrapped in India paper. Each of +the family snatched up a plate and hastily tore off the covering. There +were the flowers glowing in beautiful colors, and the gold star and the +gold A, admirably executed. But under the gold star, on every plate, +dish and tureen were the words, "THIS IN THE MIDDLE!"--being the +direction which the literal and exact Chinese had minutely copied from a +crooked line that Mr. Atmore had hastily scrawled on the pattern with a +very bad pen, and of course without the slightest fear of its being +inserted _verbatim_ beneath the central ornament. + +Mr. Atmore laughed--Mrs. Atmore cried--the servants giggled aloud--and +Marianne cried first, and laughed afterwards. + + + + +SUPPRESSED CHAPTERS[1] + +BY CAROLYN WELLS + + + Zenobia, they tell us, was a leader born and bred; + Of any sort of enterprise she'd fitly take the head. + The biggest, burliest buccaneers bowed down to her in awe; + To Warriors, Emperors or Kings, Zenobia's word was law. + + Above her troop of Amazons her helmet plume would toss, + And every one, with loud accord, proclaimed Zenobia's boss. + The reason of her power (though the part she didn't look), + Was simply that Zenobia had once lived out as cook. + + Xantippe was a Grecian Dame--they say she was the wife + Of Socrates, and history shows she led him a life! + They say she was a virago, a vixen and a shrew, + Who scolded poor old Socrates until the air was blue. + + She never stopped from morn till night the clacking of her tongue, + But this is thus accounted for: You see, when she was young-- + (And 'tis an explanation that explains, as you must own), + Xantippe was the Central of the Grecian telephone. + +[Footnote 1: By permission of Life Publishing Company.] + + + + +OLD GRIMES + +BY ALBERT GORTON GREENE + + + Old Grimes is dead, that good old man + We never shall see more: + He used to wear a long black coat + All button'd down before. + + His heart was open as the day, + His feelings all were true; + His hair was some inclined to gray-- + He wore it in a queue. + + Whene'er he heard the voice of pain, + His breast with pity burn'd; + The large, round head upon his cane + From ivory was turn'd. + + Kind words he ever had for all; + He knew no base design: + His eyes were dark and rather small, + His nose was aquiline. + + He lived at peace with all mankind, + In friendship he was true; + His coat had pocket-holes behind, + His pantaloons were blue. + + Unharm'd, the sin which earth pollutes + He pass'd securely o'er, + And never wore a pair of boots + For thirty years or more. + + But good old Grimes is now at rest, + Nor fears misfortune's frown: + He wore a double-breasted vest-- + The stripes ran up and down. + + He modest merit sought to find, + And pay it its desert: + He had no malice in his mind, + No ruffles on his shirt. + + His neighbors he did not abuse-- + Was sociable and gay: + He wore large buckles on his shoes, + And changed them every day. + + His knowledge hid from public gaze, + He did not bring to view, + Nor made a noise town-meeting days, + As many people do. + + His worldly goods he never threw + In trust to fortune's chances, + But lived (as all his brothers do) + In easy circumstances. + + Thus undisturb'd by anxious cares, + His peaceful moments ran; + And everybody said he was + A fine old gentleman. + + + + +MISS LEGION + +BY BERT LESTON TAYLOR + + + She is hotfoot after Cultyure; + She pursues it with a club. + She breathes a heavy atmosphere + Of literary flub. + No literary shrine so far + But she is there to kneel; + And-- + Her favorite bunch of reading + Is O. Meredith's "Lucile." + + Of course she's up on pictures-- + Passes for a connoisseur; + On free days at the Institute + You'll always notice her. + She qualifies approval + Of a Titian or Corot, + But-- + She throws a fit of rapture + When she comes to Bouguereau. + + And when you talk of music, + Why, she's Music's devotee. + She will tell you that Beethoven + Always makes her wish to pray, + And "dear old Bach!" his very name, + She says, her ear enchants; + But-- + Her favorite piece is Weber's + "Invitation to the Dance." + + + + +HAVE YOU SEEN THE LADY? + +BY JOHN PHILIP SOUSA + + + "Have I told you the name of a lady? + Have I told you the name of a dear? + 'Twas known long ago, + And ends with an O; + You don't hear it often round here. + + Have I talked of the eyes of a lady? + Have I talked of the eyes that are bright? + Their color, you see, + Is B-L-U-E; + They're the gin in the cocktail of light. + + Have I sung of the hair of a lady? + Have I sung of the hair of a dove? + What shade do you say? + B-L-A-C-K; + It's the fizz in the champagne of love. + + Can you guess it--the name of the lady? + She is sweet, she is fair, she is coy. + Your guessing forego, + It's J-U-N-O; + She's the mint in the julep of joy." + + + + +THE FUNNY LITTLE FELLOW + +BY JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY + + + 'Twas a Funny Little Fellow + Of the very purest type, + For he had a heart as mellow + As an apple over-ripe; + And the brightest little twinkle + When a funny thing occurred, + And the lightest little tinkle + Of a laugh you ever heard! + + His smile was like the glitter + Of the sun in tropic lands, + And his talk a sweeter twitter + Than the swallow understands; + Hear him sing--and tell a story-- + Snap a joke--ignite a pun,-- + 'Twas a capture--rapture--glory, + And explosion--all in one! + + Though he hadn't any money-- + That condiment which tends + To make a fellow "honey" + For the palate of his friends; + Sweet simples he compounded-- + Sovereign antidotes for sin + Or taint,--a faith unbounded + That his friends were genuine. + + He wasn't honored, may be-- + For his songs of praise were slim,-- + Yet I never knew a baby + That wouldn't crow for him; + I never knew a mother + But urged a kindly claim + Upon him as a brother, + At the mention of his name. + + The sick have ceased their sighing, + And have even found the grace + Of a smile when they were dying + As they looked upon his face; + And I've seen his eyes of laughter + Melt in tears that only ran + As though, swift dancing after, + Came the Funny Little Man. + + He laughed away the sorrow, + And he laughed away the gloom + We are all so prone to borrow + From the darkness of the tomb; + And he laughed across the ocean + Of a happy life, and passed, + With a laugh of glad emotion, + Into Paradise at last. + + And I think the Angels knew him, + And had gathered to await + His coming, and run to him + Through the widely-opened Gate-- + With their faces gleaming sunny + For his laughter-loving sake, + And thinking, "What a funny + Little Angel he will make!" + + + + +MUSICAL REVIEW EXTRAORDINARY + +BY JOHN PHOENIX + + +SAN DIEGO, July 10th, 1854. + +As your valuable work is not supposed to be so entirely identified with +San Franciscan interests as to be careless what takes place in other +portions of this great _kentry_, and as it is received and read in San +Diego with great interest (I have loaned my copy to over four different +literary gentlemen, most of whom have read some of it), I have thought +it not improbable that a few critical notices of the musical +performances and the drama of this place might be acceptable to you, and +interest your readers. I have been, moreover, encouraged to this task by +the perusal of your interesting musical and theatrical critiques on San +Francisco performers and performances; as I feel convinced that if you +devote so much space to them you will not allow any little feeling of +rivalry between the two great cities to prevent your noticing ours, +which, without the slightest feeling of prejudice, I must consider as +infinitely superior. I propose this month to call your attention to the +two great events in our theatrical and musical world--the appearance of +the talented Miss PELICAN, and the production of Tarbox's celebrated +"Ode Symphonie" of "The Plains." + +The critiques on the former are from the columns of the Vallecetos +Sentinel, to which they were originally contributed by me, appearing on +the respective dates of June 1st and June 31st. + + +_From the Vallecetos Sentinel, June 1st_ + + MISS PELICAN.--Never during our dramatic experience has a more + exciting event occurred than the sudden bursting upon our + theatrical firmament, full, blazing, unparalleled, of the bright, + resplendent and particular star whose honored name shines refulgent + at the head of this article. Coming among us unheralded, almost + unknown, without claptrap, in a wagon drawn by oxen across the + plains, with no agent to get up a counterfeit enthusiasm in her + favor, she appeared before us for the first time at the San Diego + Lyceum last evening, in the trying and difficult character of + Ingomar, or the Tame Savage. We are at a loss to describe our + sensations, our admiration, at her magnificent, her super-human + efforts. We do not hesitate to say that she is by far the superior + to any living actress; and, as we believe that to be the perfection + of acting, we cannot be wrong in the belief that no one hereafter + will ever be found to approach her. Her conception of the character + of Ingomar was perfection itself; her playful and ingenuous manner, + her light girlish laughter, in the scene with Sir Peter, showed an + appreciation of the savage character which nothing but the most + arduous study, the most elaborate training could produce; while her + awful change to the stern, unyielding, uncompromising father in the + tragic scene of Duncan's murder, was indeed nature itself. Miss + Pelican is about seventeen years of age, of miraculous beauty, and + most thrilling voice. It is needless to say she dresses admirably, + as in fact we have said all we can say when we called her, most + truthfully, perfection. Mr. John Boots took the part of Parthenia + very creditably, etc., etc. + + +_From the Vallecetos Sentinel, June 31st_ + + MISS PELICAN.--As this lady is about to leave us to commence an + engagement on the San Francisco stage, we should regret exceedingly + if anything we have said about her should send with her a + _prestige_ which might be found undeserved on trial. The fact is, + Miss Pelican is a very ordinary actress; indeed, one of the most + indifferent ones we have ever happened to see. She came here from + the Museum at Fort Laramie, and we praised her so injudiciously + that she became completely spoiled. She has performed a round of + characters during the last week, very miserably, though we are + bound to confess that her performance of King Lear last evening was + superior to anything of the kind we ever saw. Miss Pelican is about + forty-three years of age, singularly plain in her personal + appearance, awkward and embarrassed, with a cracked and squeaking + voice, and really dresses quite outrageously. _She has much to + learn--poor thing!_ + +I take it the above notices are rather ingenious. The fact is, I'm no +judge of acting, and don't know how Miss Pelican will turn out. If well, +why there's my notice of June the 1st; if ill, then June 31st comes in +play, and, as there is but one copy of the Sentinel printed, it's an +easy matter to destroy the incorrect one; _both can't be wrong_; so I've +made a sure thing of it in any event. Here follows my musical critique, +which I flatter myself is of rather superior order: + +THE PLAINS. ODE SYMPHONIE PAR JABEZ TARBOX.--This glorious composition +was produced at the San Diego Odeon on the 31st of June, ult., for the +first time in this or any other country, by a very full orchestra (the +performance taking place immediately after supper), and a chorus +composed of the entire "Sauer Kraut-Verein," the "Wee Gates +Association," and choice selections from the "Gyascutus" and +"Pike-harmonic" societies. The solos were rendered by Herr Tuden Links, +the recitations by Herr Von Hyden Schnapps, both performers being +assisted by Messrs. John Smith and Joseph Brown, who held their coats, +fanned them, and furnished water during the more overpowering passages. + +"The Plains" we consider the greatest musical achievement that has been +presented to an enraptured public. Like Waterloo among battles; Napoleon +among warriors; Niagara among falls, and Peck among senators, this +magnificent composition stands among Oratorios, Operas, Musical +Melodramas and performances of Ethiopian Serenaders, peerless and +unrivaled. _Il frappe toute chose parfaitement froid._ + +"It does not depend for its success" upon its plot, its theme, its +school or its master, for it has very little if any of them, but upon +its soul-subduing, all-absorbing, high-faluting effect upon the +audience, every member of which it causes to experience the most +singular and exquisite sensations. Its strains at times remind us of +those of the old master of the steamer McKim, who never went to sea +without being unpleasantly affected;--a straining after effect he used +to term it. Blair in his lecture on beauty, and Mills in his treatise on +logic, (p. 31,) have alluded to the feeling which might be produced in +the human mind by something of this transcendentally sublime +description, but it has remained for M. Tarbox, in the production of +"The Plains," to call this feeling forth. + +The symphonie opens upon the wide and boundless plains in longitude 115 +degrees W., latitude 35 degrees 21 minutes 03 seconds N., and about +sixty miles from the west bank of Pitt River. These data are beautifully +and clearly expressed by a long (topographically) drawn note from an E +flat clarionet. The sandy nature of the soil, sparsely dotted with +bunches of cactus and artemisia, the extended view, flat and unbroken to +the horizon, save by the rising smoke in the extreme verge, denoting the +vicinity of a Pi Utah village, are represented by the bass drum. A few +notes on the piccolo call attention to a solitary antelope picking up +mescal beans in the foreground. The sun, having an altitude of 36 +degrees 27 minutes, blazes down upon the scene in indescribable majesty. +"Gradually the sounds roll forth in a song" of rejoicing to the God of +Day: + + "Of thy intensity + And great immensity + Now then we sing; + Beholding in gratitude + Thee in this latitude, + Curious thing." + +Which swells out into "Hey Jim along, Jim along Josey," then +_decrescendo_, _mas o menos_, _poco pocita_, dies away and dries up. + +Suddenly we hear approaching a train from Pike County, consisting of +seven families, with forty-six wagons, each drawn by thirteen oxen; each +family consists of a man in butternut-colored clothing driving the oxen; +a wife in butternut-colored clothing riding in the wagon, holding a +butternut baby, and seventeen butternut children running promiscuously +about the establishment; all are barefooted, dusty, and smell +unpleasantly. (All these circumstances are expressed by pretty rapid +fiddling for some minutes, winding up with a puff from the orpheclide +played by an intoxicated Teuton with an atrocious breath--it is +impossible to misunderstand the description.) Now rises o'er the plains, +in mellifluous accents, the grand Pike County Chorus: + + "Oh we'll soon be thar + In the land of gold, + Through the forest old, + O'er the mounting cold, + With spirits bold-- + Oh, we come, we come, + And we'll soon be thar. + Gee up Bolly! whoo, up, whoo haw!" + +The train now encamp. The unpacking of the kettles and mess-pans, the +unyoking of the oxen, the gathering about the various camp-fires, the +frizzling of the pork, are so clearly expressed by the music that the +most untutored savage could readily comprehend it. Indeed, so vivid and +lifelike was the representation, that a lady sitting near us +involuntarily exclaimed aloud, at a certain passage, "_Thar, that pork's +burning!_" and it was truly interesting to watch the gratified +expression of her face when, by a few notes of the guitar, the pan was +removed from the fire, and the blazing pork extinguished. + +This is followed by the beautiful _aria_: + + "O! marm, I want a pancake!" + +Followed by that touching _recitative_: + + "Shet up, or I will spank you!" + +To which succeeds a grand _crescendo_ movement, representing the flight +of the child with the pancake, the pursuit of the mother, and the final +arrest and summary punishment of the former, represented by the rapid +and successive strokes of the castanet. + +The turning in for the night follows; and the deep and stertorous +breathing of the encampment is well given by the bassoon, while the +sufferings and trials of an unhappy father with an unpleasant infant are +touchingly set forth by the _cornet a piston_. + +Part Second.--The night attack of the Pi Utahs; the fearful cries of the +demoniac Indians; the shrieks of the females and children; the rapid and +effective fire of the rifles; the stampede of the oxen; their recovery +and the final repulse, the Pi Utahs being routed after a loss of +thirty-six killed and wounded, while the Pikes lose but one scalp (from +an old fellow who wore a wig, and lost it in the scuffle), are +faithfully given, and excite the most intense interest in the minds of +the hearers; the emotions of fear, admiration and delight: succeeding +each other, in their minds, with almost painful rapidity. Then follows +the grand chorus: + + "Oh! we gin them fits, + The Ingen Utahs. + With our six-shooters-- + We gin 'em pertickuler fits." + +After which we have the charming recitative of Herr Tuden Links, to the +infant, which is really one of the most charming gems in the +performance: + + "Now, dern your skin, _can't_ you be easy?" + +Morning succeeds. The sun rises magnificently (octavo flute)--breakfast +is eaten,--in a rapid movement on three sharps; the oxen are caught and +yoked up--with a small drum and triangle; the watches, purses and other +valuables of the conquered Pi Utahs are stored away in a camp-kettle, to +a small movement on the piccolo, and the train moves on, with the grand +chorus: + + "We'll soon be thar, + Gee up Bolly! Whoo hup! whoo haw!" + +The whole concludes with the grand hymn and chorus: + + "When we die we'll go to Benton, + Whup! Whoo, haw! + The greatest man that e'er land saw, + Gee! + Who this little airth was sent on + Whup! Whoo, haw! + To tell a 'hawk from a handsaw!' + Gee!" + +The immense expense attending the production of this magnificent work, +the length of time required to prepare the chorus, and the incredible +number of instruments destroyed at each rehearsal, have hitherto +prevented M. Tarbox from placing it before the American public, and it +has remained for San Diego to show herself superior to her sister cities +of the Union, in musical taste and appreciation, and in high-souled +liberality, by patronizing this immortal prodigy, and enabling its +author to bring it forth in accordance with his wishes and its +capabilities. We trust every citizen of San Diego and Vallecetos will +listen to it ere it is withdrawn; and if there yet lingers in San +Francisco one spark of musical fervor, or a remnant of taste for pure +harmony, we can only say that the Southerner sails from that place once +a fortnight, and that the passage money is but forty-five dollars. + + + + +THE RUNAWAY BOY + +BY JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY + + + Wunst I sassed my Pa, an' he + Won't stand that, an' punished me,-- + Nen when he was 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. + + 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 was 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 was nobody there. + + I _want_ to, but I'm 'fraid to try + To go back.... An' by-an'-by + Somepin' hurts my throat inside-- + An' 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'll show me there. + + But I couldn't ist but tell + What's my _name_; an' she says well, + An' she 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' _she_ + Kissed me--ef I p'omise _shore_ + I won't run away no more! + + + + +THE DRAYMAN + +BY DANIEL O'CONNELL + + + The captain that walks the quarter-deck + Is the monarch of the sea; + But every day, when I'm on my dray, + I'm as big a monarch as he. + For the car must slack when I'm on the track, + And the gripman's face gets blue, + As he holds her back till his muscles crack, + And he shouts, "Hey, hey! Say, you! + Get out of the way with that dray!" "I won't!" + "Get out of the way, I say!" + But I stiffen my back, and I stay on the track, + And I won't get out of the way. + + When a gaudy carriage bowls along, + With a coachman perched on high, + Solemn and fat, a cockade in his hat, + Just like a big blue fly, + I swing my leaders across the road, + And put a stop to his jaunt, + And the ladies cry, "John, John, drive on!" + And I laugh when he says "I caun't." + + Oh, life to me is a big picnic, + From the rise to the set of sun! + The swells that ride in their fancy drags + Don't begin to have my fun. + I'm king of the road, though I wear no crown, + As I leisurely move along, + For I own the streets, and I hold them down, + And I love to hear this song: + "Get out of the way with your dray!" "I won't!" + "Get out of the way, I say!" + But I stiffen my back, and I stay on the track, + And I don't get out of the way. + + + + +BILL'S COURTSHIP + +BY FRANK L. STANTON + + +I + + Bill looked happy as could be + One bright mornin'; an' says he: + "Folks has been a-tellin' me + Mollie's set her cap my way; + An' I'm goin' thar' to-day + With the license; so, ol' boy, + Might's well shake, an' wish me joy! + Never seen a woman yit + This here feller couldn't git!" + + +II + + Now, it happened, that same day, + I'd been lookin' Mollie's way;-- + Jest had saddled my ol' hoss + To go canterin' across + Parson Jones's pastur', an' + Ax her fer her heart an' han'! + So, when Bill had had his say + An' done set his weddin' day, + I lit out an' rid that way. + + +III + + Mollie met me at the door:-- + "Glad to see yer face once more!" + She--says she: "Come in--come in!" + ("It's the best man now will win," + Thinks I to myself.) Then she + Brung a rocker out fer me + On the cool piazza wide, + With her own chair right 'longside! + + +IV + + In about two hours I knowed + In that race I had the road! + Talked in sich a winnin' way + Got her whar' she named the day, + With her shiny head at rest + On my speckled Sunday vest! + An', whilst in that happy state, + Bill--he rid up to the gate. + + +V + + Well, sir-ee!... He sot him down-- + Cheapest lookin' chap in town! + (Knowed at once I'd set my traps!) + Talked 'bout weather, an' the craps, + An' a thousan' things; an' then-- + Jest the lonesomest o' men-- + Said he had so fur to ride, + Reckoned it wuz time to slide! + + +VI + + But I hollered out: "Ol' boy, + Might's well shake, an' wish me joy! + I hain't seen the woman yit + That this feller couldn't git!" + + + + +THE WOMAN WHO MARRIED AN OWL + +BY ANNE VIRGINIA CULBERTSON + + +When the children got home from the nutting expedition and had eaten +supper, they sat around discontentedly, wishing every few minutes that +their mother had returned. + +"I wish mamma would come back," said Ned. "I never know what to do in +the evening when she isn't home." + +"I 'low 'bout de bes' you-all kin do is ter lemme putt you ter baid," +said Aunt 'Phrony. + +"Don't want to go to bed," "I'm not sleepy," "Want to stay up," came in +chorus from three pairs of lips. + +"You chillen is wusser dan night owls," said the old woman. "Ef you +keeps on wid dis settin'-up-all-night bizness, I boun' some er you gwine +turn inter one'r dese yer big, fussy owls wid yaller eyes styarin', jes' +de way li'l Mars Kit doin' dis ve'y minnit, tryin' ter keep hisse'f +awake. An' dat 'mines me uv a owl whar turnt hisse'f inter a man, an' ef +a owl kin do dat, w'ats ter hinner one'r you-all turnin' inter a owl, I +lak ter know? So you bes' come 'long up ter baid, an' ef you is right +spry gettin' raidy, mebbe I'll whu'l in an' tell you 'bout dat owl." + +The little procession moved upstairs, Coonie, the house-boy, bringing up +the rear with an armful of sticks and some fat splinters of lightwood, +which were soon blazing with an oily sputter. Coonie scented a story, +and his bullet pate was bent over the fire an unnecessarily long time, +as he blew valiant puffs upon the flames which no longer needed his +assistance, and arranged and rearranged his skilfully piled sticks. + +"Quit dat foolishness, nigger," said 'Phrony at last, "an' set down on +de ha'th an' 'have yo'se'f. Ef you wanter stay, whyn't you sesso, +stidder blowin' yo'se'f black in de face? Now, den, ef y'all raidy, I +gwine begin. + +"Dish yer w'at I gwine tell happen at de time er de 'ear w'en de Injuns +wuz havin' der green-cawn darnse, an' I reckon you-all 'bout ter ax me +w'at dat is, so I s'pose I mought ez well tell you. 'Long in Augus' w'en +de Injuns stopped wu'kkin' de cawn, w'at we call 'layin' by de crap,' +den dey cu'd mos' times tell ef 'twuz gwineter be a good crap, so dey +'mence ter git raidy fer de darnse nigh a month befo'han'. Dey went ter +de medincin' man an' axed him fer ter 'pint de day. Den medincin' man he +sont out runners ter tell ev'b'dy, an' de runners dey kyar'd +'memb'ance-strings wid knots tied all 'long 'em, an' give 'em ter de +people fer ter he'p 'em 'member. De folks dey'd cut off a knot f'um de +string each day, an' w'en de las' one done cut off, den dey know de day +fer de darnse wuz come. An' de medincin' man he sont out hunters, too, +fer ter git game, an' mo' runners fer ter kyar' hit ter de people so's't +dey mought cook hit an' bring hit in. + +"W'en de time come, de people ga'rred toge'rr an' de medincin' man he +tucken some er de new cawn an' some uv all de craps an' burnt hit, befo' +de people wuz 'lowed ter eat any. Atter de burnin', den he tucken a year +er cawn in one han' an' ax fer blessin's an' good craps wid dat han', +w'ile he raise up tu'rr han' ter de storm an' de win' an' de hail an' +baig 'em not ter bring evil 'pun de people. Atter dat, dey all made der +bre'kfus' offen roas'in'-years er de new cawn an' den de darnse begun +an' lasted fo' days an' fo' nights; de men dress' up in der bes' an' de +gals wearin' gre't rattles tied on der knees, dat shuk an' rattled wid +ev'y step. + +"De gal whar I gwine tell 'bout wuz on her way home on de fo'th night, +an' she wuz pow'ful tired, 'kase dem rattles is monst'ous haivy, an' she +bin keepin' hit up fo' nights han' runnin'. She wuz gwine thu a dark +place in de woods w'en suddintly she seed a young man all wrop up in a +sof' gray blankit an' leanin' 'gins' a tree. His eyes wuz big an' roun' +an' bright, an' dey seemed ter bu'n lak fire. Dem eyes drord de gal an' +drord de gal 'twel she warn't 'feared no mo', an' she come nearer, an' +las' he putt out his arms wrop up in de gray blanket an' drord her clost +'twel she lean erg'in him, an' she look up in de big, bright eyes an' +she say, 'Whar is you, whar is you?' An' he say, 'Oo-goo-coo, +Oo-goo-coo.' Dat wuz de Churry_kee_ name fer 'owl,' but de gal ain' pay +no 'tention ter dat, for mos' er de Injun men wuz name' atter bu'ds an' +beas'eses an' sech ez dat. Atter dat she useter go out ter de woods ev'y +night ter see de young man, an' she alluz sing out ter him, 'Whar is +you, whar is you?' an' he'd arnser, 'Oo-goo-coo, Oo-goo-coo.' Dat wuz de +on'ies wu'd he uver say, but de gal thought 'twuz all right, fer she +done mek up her min' dat he 'longed ter nu'rr tribe er Injuns whar spoke +diff'nt f'um her own people. Sidesen dat, she love' him, an' w'en gals +is in love dey think ev'ything de man do is jes' 'bout right, an' dese +yer co'tin'-couples is no gre't fer talkin,' nohow. + +"De gal's daddy wuz daid an' her an' her mammy live all 'lone, so las' +she mek up her min' dat it be heap mo' handy ter have a man roun' de +house, so she up an' tell her mammy dat she done got ma'ied. Her mammy +say, 'You is, is you? Well, who de man?' De gal say 'Oo-goo-coo.' 'Well, +den,' sez her mammy, 'I reckon you bes' bring home dish yer Oo-goo-coo +an' see ef we kain't mek him useful. A li'l good game, now an' den, 'ud +suit my mouf right well. We ain' have nair' pusson ter do no huntin' fer +us sence yo' daddy died.' + +"'Mammy,' sez de gal, 'I'se 'bleeged ter tell you dat my husban' kain't +speak ow' langwidge.' + +"'All de better,' sez her mammy, sez she. 'Dar ain' gwine be no trouble +'bout dat, 'kase I kin do talkin' 'nuff fer two, an' I ain' want one +dese yer back-talkin' son-in-laws, nohow.' + +"So de nex' night de gal went off an' comed back late wid de young man. +Her mammy ax him in an' gin him a seat by de fire, an' dar he sot all +wrop up in his blinkit, wid his haid turnt 'way f'um de light, not +sayin' nuttin' ter nob'dy. An' de fire died down an' de wind blewed +mo'nful outside, an' dar he sot on an' on, an' w'en de wimmins went ter +sleep, dar he wuz settin', still. But in de mawnin' w'en dey woked up he +wuz gone, an' dey ain' see hya'r ner hide uv 'im all day. + +"De nex' night he come erg'in and bringed a lot er game wid 'im, an' he +putt dat down at de do' an' set hisse'f down by de fire an' stay dar, +same ez befo', not sayin' nair' wu'd. Dat kind er aggervex de gal's +mammy at las', 'kase she wuz one'r dese yer wimmins whar no sooner gits +w'at dey ax fer dan dey ain' kyare 'bout hit no mo.' She want son-in-law +whar kain't talk, she git him, an' den she want one whar kin arnser +back. She gittin' kind er jubous 'bout him, but she 'feared ter say +anything fer fear he quit an' she git no mo' game. + +"Thu'd night he come onct mo' wid a passel er game, an' she mighty +cur'ous 'bout him by dat time. She say ter husse'f, 'Well! ef I ain' got +de curisomest son-in-law in dese diggin's, den I miss de queschin. I +wunner w'at mek him set wid his face turnt f'um de fire an' blinkin' his +eyes all de time? I wunner w'y he ain' nuver onloose dat blankit, an' +w'y he g'longs off 'fo' de daylight an' nuver comes back 'twel de dark.' + +"'Oh, mammy,' sez de gal, sez she, 'ain' I tol' you he kain't speak ow' +langwidge, an' I 'spec' he done come f'um dat wo'm kyountry whar we year +tell 'bout, 'way off yonner, an' dat huccome he hatter keep his blankit +roun' him. I reckon he git so tired huntin' all day, no wunner he hatter +blink his eyes ter keep 'em open.' + +"But her mammy wan't sassified, 'kase hit mighty hard ter haid off one'r +dese yer pryin' wimmins, so she go outside an' ga'rr up some lightwood +splinters an' th'ow 'em on de fire, dis-away, all uv a suddint." Here +the old woman rose and threw on a handful of lightwood, which blazed up +with a great sputtering, and in the strong light she stood before the +fire enacting the part of the scared Owl for the delighted yet +half-startled children. + +"An' w'en she th'owed hit on," Aunt 'Phrony proceeded, "de fire blaze +an' spit an' sputter jes' lak dis do, an' de ooman she fotched a yell +an' cried out, she did, 'Lan' er de mussiful! W'at cur'ous sort er wood +is dish yer dat ac' lak dis?' De Owl he wuz startle' an' he look roun' +suddint, dis-a-way, over his shoulder, an' de wimmins dey let out a +turr'ble screech, 'kase dey seed 'twa'n't nuttin' but a big owl settin' +dar blinkin'. + +"Owl seed he wuz foun' out, an' he riz up an' give his gre't, wide wings +a big flop, lak dis, an' swoop out de do' cryin' 'Oo-goo-coo! +Oo-goo-coo!' ez he flewed off inter de darkness." Here Aunt 'Phrony +spread her arms like wings and made a swoop half-way across the room to +the bedside of the startled children. "An'," she continued, "de wind +howl mo'nful all night long, an' seem ter de gal an' her mammy lak 'twuz +de voice of po' Oo-goo-coo mo'nin' fer de gal he love." + +"And didn't he ever come back?" said Ned. + +"Naw, suh, dat he didn'. He wuz too 'shame' ter come back, an' he bin so +'shame' er de trick uver sence dat he hide hisse'f way in de daytime an' +nuver come out 'twel de dusk, an' den he go sweepin' an' swoopin' 'long +on dem gre't big sof' wings, so quiet dat he ain' mek de ghos' uv a +soun', jes' looks lak a big shadder flittin' roun' in de dusk. He teck +dat time, too, 'kase he know dat 'bout den de li'l fiel' mouses an' sech +ez dat comes out an' 'mences ter run roun', an' woe be unter 'em ef dey +meets up wid Mistah Owl; deys a-goner, sho'." + +"But how could they think an owl was a man?" asked Janey. + +"Well, honey, de tale ain' tell dat, but I done study hit out dis-a-way, +dat mo'n likely de gal bin turnin' up her nose at some young Injun man, +an' outer spite he done gone an' got some witch ter putt a spell on her +so's't de Owl 'ud look lak a man an' she 'ud go an' th'ow husse'f away +on a ol' no-kyount bu'd. Yas, I reckon dat wuz 'bout de way. An' now +y'all better shet up dem peepers er you'll be gittin' lak de owls, no +good in de day time, an' wantin' ter be up an' prowlin' all night." + + + + +MR. DOOLEY ON EXPERT TESTIMONY + +BY FINLEY PETER DUNNE + + +"Annything new?" said Mr. Hennessy, who had been waiting patiently for +Mr. Dooley to put down his newspaper. + +"I've been r-readin' th' tistimony iv th' Lootgert case," said Mr. +Dooley. + +"What d'ye think iv it?" + +"I think so," said Mr. Dooley. + +"Think what?" + +"How do I know?" said Mr. Dooley. "How do I know what I think? I'm no +combi-nation iv chemist, doctor, osteologist, polisman, an' +sausage-maker, that I can give ye an opinion right off th' bat. A man +needs to be all iv thim things to detarmine annything about a murdher +trile in these days. This shows how intilligent our methods is, as Hogan +says. A large German man is charged with puttin' his wife away into a +breakfas'-dish, an' he says he didn't do it. Th' on'y question, thin, is +Did or did not Alphonse Lootgert stick Mrs. L. into a vat, an' rayjooce +her to a quick lunch? Am I right?" + +"Ye ar-re," said Mr. Hennessy. + +"That's simple enough. What th' coort ought to've done was to call him +up, an' say: 'Lootgert, where's ye'er good woman?' If Lootgert cudden't +tell, he ought to be hanged on gin'ral principles; f'r a man must keep +his wife around th' house, an' whin she isn't there, it shows he's a +poor provider. But, if Lootgert says, 'I don't know where me wife is,' +the coort shud say: 'Go out, an' find her. If ye can't projooce her in a +week, I'll fix ye.' An' let that be th' end iv it. + +"But what do they do? They get Lootgert into coort an' stand him up +befure a gang iv young rayporthers an' th' likes iv thim to make +pitchers iv him. Thin they summon a jury composed iv poor, tired, sleepy +expressmen an' tailors an' clerks. Thin they call in a profissor from a +colledge. 'Profissor,' says th' lawyer f'r the State, 'I put it to ye if +a wooden vat three hundherd an' sixty feet long, twenty-eight feet deep, +an' sivinty-five feet wide, an' if three hundherd pounds iv caustic soda +boiled, an' if the leg iv a ginea pig, an' ye said yesterdah about +bicarbonate iv soda, an' if it washes up an' washes over, an' th' slimy, +slippery stuff, an' if a false tooth or a lock iv hair or a jawbone or a +goluf ball across th' cellar eleven feet nine inches--that is, two +inches this way an' five gallons that?' 'I agree with ye intirely,' says +th' profissor, 'I made lab'ratory experiments in an' ir'n basin, with +bichloride iv gool, which I will call soup-stock, an' coal tar, which I +will call ir'n filings. I mixed th' two over a hot fire, an' left in a +cool place to harden. I thin packed it in ice, which I will call glue, +an' rock-salt, which I will call fried eggs, an' obtained a dark, queer +solution that is a cure f'r freckles, which I will call antimony or +doughnuts or annything I blamed please.' + +"'But,' says th' lawyer f'r th' State, 'measurin' th' vat with gas,--an' +I lave it to ye whether this is not th' on'y fair test,--an' supposin' +that two feet acrost is akel to tin feet sideways, an' supposin' that a +thick green an' hard substance, an' I daresay it wud; an' supposin' you +may, takin' into account th' measuremints,--twelve be eight,--th' vat +bein' wound with twine six inches fr'm th' handle an' a rub iv th' +green, thin ar-re not human teeth often found in counthry sausage?' 'In +th' winter,' says th' profissor. 'But th' sisymoid bone is sometimes +seen in th' fut, sometimes worn as a watch-charm. I took two sisymoid +bones, which I will call poker dice, an' shook thim together in a +cylinder, which I will call Fido, poored in a can iv milk, which I will +call gum arabic, took two pounds iv rough-on-rats, which I rayfuse to +call; but th' raysult is th' same.' Question be th' coort: 'Different?' +Answer: 'Yis.' Th' coort: 'Th' same.' Be Misther McEwen: 'Whose bones?' +Answer: 'Yis.' Be Misther Vincent: 'Will ye go to th' divvle?' Answer: +'It dissolves th' hair.' + +"Now what I want to know is where th' jury gets off. What has that +collection iv pure-minded pathrites to larn fr'm this here polite +discussion, where no wan is so crool as to ask what anny wan else means? +Thank th' Lord, whin th' case is all over, the jury'll pitch th' +tistimony out iv th' window, an' consider three questions: 'Did Lootgert +look as though he'd kill his wife? Did his wife look as though she ought +to be kilt? Isn't it time we wint to supper?' An', howiver they answer, +they'll be right, an' it'll make little diff'rence wan way or th' other. +Th' German vote is too large an' ignorant, annyhow." + + + + +LECTURES ON ASTRONOMY + +BY JOHN PHOENIX + + +_Introductory_ + +The following pages were originally prepared in the form of a course of +Lectures to be delivered before the Lowell Institute, of Boston, Mass., +but, owing to the unexpected circumstance of the author's receiving no +invitation to lecture before that institution, they were laid aside +shortly after their completion. + +Receiving an invitation from the trustees of the Vallecetos Literary and +Scientific Institute, during the present summer, to deliver a course of +Lectures on any popular subject, the author withdrew his manuscript from +the dusty shelf on which it had long lain neglected, and, having +somewhat revised and enlarged it, to suit the capacity of the eminent +scholars before whom it was to be displayed, repaired to Vallecetos. +But, on arriving at that place, he learned with deep regret, that the +only inhabitant had left a few days previous, having availed himself of +the opportunity presented by a passing emigrant's horse,--and that, in +consequence, the opening of the Institute was indefinitely postponed. +Under these circumstances, and yielding with reluctance to the earnest +solicitations of many eminent scientific friends, he has been induced to +place the Lectures before the public in their present form. Should they +meet with that success which his sanguine friends prognosticate, the +author may be induced subsequently to publish them in the form of a +text-book, for the use of the higher schools and universities; it being +his greatest ambition to render himself useful in his day and generation +by widely disseminating the information he has acquired among those who, +less fortunate, are yet willing to receive instruction. + +JOHN PHOENIX. +SAN DIEGO OBSERVATORY, September 1, 1854. + + * * * * * + +LECTURES ON ASTRONOMY--PART I + +CHAPTER I + +The term Astronomy is derived from two Latin words,--_Astra_, a star, +and _onomy_, a science; and literally means the science of the stars. +"It is a science," to quote our friend Dick (who was no relation at all +of Big Dick, though the latter occasionally caused individuals to see +stars), "which has, in all ages, engaged the attention of the poet, the +philosopher, and the divine, and been the subject of their study and +admiration." + +By the wondrous discoveries of the improved telescopes of modern times, +we ascertain that upward of several hundred millions of stars exist, +that are invisible to the naked eye--the nearest of which is millions of +millions of miles from the Earth; and as we have every reason to suppose +that every one of this inconceivable number of worlds is peopled like +our own, a consideration of this fact--and that we are undoubtedly as +superior to these beings as we are to the rest of mankind--is calculated +to fill the mind of the American with a due sense of his own importance +in the scale of animated creation. + +It is supposed that each of the stars we see in the Heavens in a +cloudless night is a sun shining upon its own curvilinear, with light of +its own manufacture; and as it would be absurd to suppose its light and +heat were made to be diffused for nothing, it is presumed farther, that +each sun, like an old hen, is provided with a parcel of little chickens, +in the way of planets, which, shining but feebly by its reflected light, +are to us invisible. To this opinion we are led, also, by reasoning from +analogy, on considering our own Solar System. + +THE SOLAR SYSTEM is so called, not because we believe it to be the sole +system of the kind in existence, but from its principal body, the Sun, +the Latin name of which is _Sol_. (Thus we read of Sol Smith, literally +meaning the _son_ of Old Smith.) On a close examination of the Heavens +we perceive numerous brilliant stars which shine with a steady light +(differing from those which surround them, which are always twinkling +like a dewdrop on a cucumber-vine), and which, moreover, do not preserve +constantly the same relative distance from the stars near which they are +first discovered. These are the planets of the SOLAR SYSTEM, which have +no light of their own--of which the Earth, on which we reside, is +one--which shine by light reflected from the Sun--and which regularly +move around that body at different intervals of time and through +different ranges in space. Up to the time of a gentleman named +Copernicus, who flourished about the middle of the Fifteenth Century, it +was supposed by our stupid ancestors that the Earth was the center of +all creation, being a large, flat body resting on a rock which rested on +another rock, and so on "all the way down"; and that the Sun, planets +and immovable stars all revolved about it once in twenty-four hours. + +This reminds us of the simplicity of a child we once saw in a +railroad-car, who fancied itself perfectly stationary, and thought the +fences, houses and fields were tearing past it at the rate of thirty +miles an hour;--and poking out its head, to see where on earth they went +to, had its hat--a very nice one with pink ribbons--knocked off and +irrecoverably lost. But Copernicus (who was a son of Daniel Pernicus, of +the firm of Pernicus & Co., wool-dealers, and who was named Co. +Pernicus, out of respect to his father's partners) soon set this matter +to rights, and started the idea of the present Solar System, which, +greatly improved since his day, is occasionally called the Copernican +system. By this system we learn that the Sun is stationed at one _focus_ +(not hocus, as it is rendered, without authority by the philosopher +Partington) of an ellipse, where it slowly grinds on for ever about its +own axis, while the planets, turning about their axes, revolve in +elliptical orbits of various dimensions and different planes of +inclination around it. + +The demonstration of this system in all its perfection was left to Isaac +Newton, an English Philosopher, who, seeing an apple tumble down from a +tree, was led to think thereon with such gravity, that he finally +discovered the attraction of gravitation, which proved to be the great +law of Nature that keeps everything in its place. Thus we see that as +an apple originally brought sin and ignorance into the world, the same +fruit proved thereafter the cause of vast knowledge and +enlightenment;--and indeed we may doubt whether any other fruit but an +apple, and a sour one at that, would have produced these great +results;--for, had the fallen fruit been a pear, an orange, or a peach, +there is little doubt that Newton would have eaten it up and thought no +more on the subject. + +As in this world you will hardly ever find a man so small but that he +has someone else smaller than he, to look up to and revolve around him, +so in the Solar System we find that the majority of the planets have one +or more smaller planets revolving about them. These small bodies are +termed secondaries, moons or satellites--the planets themselves being +called primaries. + +We know at present of eighteen primaries, viz.: Mercury, Venus, the +Earth, Mars, Flora, Vesta, Iris, Metis, Hebe, Astrea, Juno, Ceres, +Pallas, Hygeia, Jupiter, Saturn, Herschel, Neptune, and another, yet +unnamed. There are distributed among these, nineteen secondaries, all of +which, except our Moon, are invisible to the naked eye. + +We shall now proceed to consider, separately, the different bodies +composing the Solar System, and to make known what little information, +comparatively speaking, science has collected regarding them. And, first +in order, as in place, we come to + + +THE SUN + +This glorious orb may be seen almost any clear day, by looking intently +in its direction, through a piece of smoked glass. Through this medium +it appears about the size of a large orange, and of much the same color. +It is, however, somewhat larger, being in fact 887,000 miles in +diameter, and containing a volume of matter equal to fourteen hundred +thousand globes of the size of the Earth, which is certainly a matter of +no small importance. Through the telescope it appears like an enormous +globe of fire, with many spots upon its surface, which, unlike those of +the leopard, are continually changing. These spots were first discovered +by a gentleman named Galileo, in the year 1611. Though the Sun is +usually termed and considered the luminary of day, it may not be +uninteresting to our readers to know that it certainly has been seen in +the night. A scientific friend of ours from New England (Mr. R.W. +Emerson) while traveling through the northern part of Norway, with a +cargo of tinware, on the 21st of June, 1836, distinctly saw the Sun in +all its majesty, shining at midnight!--in fact, shining _all_ night! +Emerson is not what you would call a superstitious man, by any +means--but, he left! Since that time many persons have observed its +nocturnal appearance in that part of the country, at the same time of +the year. This phenomenon has never been witnessed in the latitude of +San Diego, however, and it is very improbable that it ever will be. +Sacred history informs us that a distinguished military man, named +Joshua, once caused the Sun to "stand still"; how he did it, is not +mentioned. There can, of course, be no doubt of the fact, that he +arrested its progress, and possibly caused it to "stand _still_";--but +translators are not always perfectly accurate, and we are inclined to +the opinion that it might have wiggled a very little, when Joshua was +not looking directly at it. The statement, however, does not appear so +very incredible, when we reflect that seafaring men are in the habit of +actually _bringing the Sun down_ to the horizon every day at 12 +Meridian. This they effect by means of a tool made of brass, glass, and +silver, called a sextant. The composition of the Sun has long been a +matter of dispute. + +By close and accurate observation with an excellent opera-glass we have +arrived at the conclusion that its entire surface is covered with water +to a very great depth; which water, being composed by a process known at +present only to the Creator of the Universe and Mr. Paine, of Worcester, +Massachusetts, generates carburetted hydrogen gas, which, being +inflamed, surrounds the entire body with an ocean of fire, from which +we, and the other planets, receive our light and heat. The spots upon +its surface are glimpses of water, obtained through the fire; and we +call the attention of our old friend and former schoolmate, Mr. Agassiz, +to this fact; as by closely observing one of these spots with a strong +refracting telescope he may discover a new species of fish, with little +fishes inside of them. It is possible that the Sun may burn out after a +while, which would leave this world in a state of darkness quite +uncomfortable to contemplate; but even under these circumstances it is +pleasant to reflect that courting and love-making would probably +increase to an indefinite extent, and that many persons would make large +fortunes by the sudden rise in value of coal, wood, candles, and gas, +which would go to illustrate the truth of the old proverb, "It's an ill +wind that blows nobody any good." + +Upon the whole, the Sun is a glorious creation; pleasing to gaze upon +(through smoked glass), elevating to think upon, and exceedingly +comfortable to every created being on a cold day; it is the largest, the +brightest, and may be considered by far the most magnificent object in +the celestial sphere; though with all these attributes it must be +confessed that it is occasionally entirely eclipsed by the moon. + + +CHAPTER II + +We shall now proceed to the consideration of the several planets. + + +MERCURY + +This planet, with the exception of the asteroids, is the smallest of the +system. It is the nearest to the Sun, and, in consequence, can not be +seen (on account of the Sun's superior light), except at its greatest +eastern and western elongations, which occur in March and April, August +and September, when it may be seen for a short time immediately after +sunset and shortly before sunrise. It then appears like a star of the +first magnitude, having a white twinkling light, and resembling somewhat +the star Regulus in the constellation Leo. The day in Mercury is about +ten minutes longer than ours, its year is about equal to three of our +months. It receives six and a half times as much heat from the Sun as we +do; from which we conclude that the climate must be very similar to that +of Fort Yuma, on the Colorado River. The difficulty of communication +with Mercury will probably prevent its ever being selected as a military +post; though it possesses many advantages for that purpose, being +extremely inaccessible, inconvenient, and, doubtless, singularly +uncomfortable. It receives its name from the God, Mercury, in the +Heathen Mythology, who is the patron and tutelary Divinity of San Diego +County. + + +VENUS + +This beautiful planet may be seen either a little after sunset or +shortly before sunrise, according as it becomes the morning or the +evening star, but never departing quite forty-eight degrees from the +Sun. Its day is about twenty-five minutes shorter than ours; its year +seven and a half months or thirty-two weeks. The diameter of Venus is +7,700 miles, and she receives from the Sun thrice as much light and heat +as the Earth. + +An old Dutchman named Schroeter spent more than ten years in +observations on this planet, and finally discovered a mountain on it +twenty-two miles in height, but he never could discover anything on the +mountain, not even a mouse, and finally died about as wise as when he +commenced his studies. + +Venus, in Mythology, was a Goddess of singular beauty, who became the +wife of Vulcan, the blacksmith, and, we regret to add, behaved in the +most immoral manner after her marriage. The celebrated case of Vulcan +_vs._ Mars, and the consequent scandal, is probably still fresh in the +minds of our readers. By a large portion of society, however, she was +considered an ill-used and persecuted lady, against whose high tone of +morals and strictly virtuous conduct not a shadow of suspicion could be +cast; Vulcan, by the same parties, was considered a horrid brute, and +they all agreed that it served him right when he lost his case and had +to pay the costs of court. Venus still remains the Goddess of Beauty, +and not a few of her _proteges_ may be found in California. + + +THE EARTH + +The Earth, or as the Latins called it, Tellus (from which originated the +expression, "Do tell us"), is the third planet in the Solar System, and +the one on which we subsist, with all our important joys and sorrows. +The San Diego Herald is published weekly on this planet, for five +dollars per annum, payable invariably in advance. As the Earth is by no +means the most important planet in the system, there is no reason to +suppose that it is particularly distinguished from the others by being +inhabited. It is reasonable, therefore, to conclude that all the other +planets of the system are filled with living, moving and sentient +beings; and as some of them are superior to the Earth in size and +position, it is not improbable that their inhabitants may be superior to +us in physical and mental organization. + +But if this were a demonstrable fact, instead of a mere hypothesis, it +would be found a very difficult matter to persuade us of its truth. To +the inhabitants of Venus the Earth appears like a brilliant star--very +much, in fact, as Venus appears to us; and, reasoning from analogy, we +are led to believe that the election of Mr. Pierce, the European war, or +the split in the great Democratic party produced but very little +excitement among them. + +To the inhabitants of Jupiter, our important globe appears like a small +star of the fourth or fifth magnitude. We recollect, some years ago, +gazing with astonishment upon the inhabitants of a drop of water, +developed by the Solar Microscope, and secretly wondering whether they +were or not reasoning beings, with souls to be saved. It is not +altogether a pleasant reflection that a highly scientific inhabitant of +Jupiter, armed with a telescope of (to us) inconceivable form, may be +pursuing a similar course of inquiry, and indulging in similar +speculations regarding our Earth and its inhabitants. Gazing with +curious eye, his attention is suddenly attracted by the movements of a +grand celebration of Fourth of July in New York, or a mighty convention +in Baltimore. "God bless my soul," he exclaims, "I declare they're +alive, these little creatures; do see them wriggle!" To an inhabitant of +the Sun, however, he of Jupiter is probably quite as insignificant, and +the Sun man is possibly a mere atom in the opinion of a dweller in +Sirius. A little reflection on these subjects leads to the opinion that +the death of an individual man on this Earth, though perhaps as +important an event as can occur to himself, is calculated to cause no +great convulsion of Nature or disturb particularly the great aggregate +of created beings. + +The Earth moves round the Sun from west to east in a year, and turns on +its axis in a day; thus moving at the rate of 68,000 miles an hour in +its orbit, and rolling around at the tolerably rapid rate of 1,040 +miles per hour. As our readers may have seen that when a man is +galloping a horse violently over a smooth road, if the horse from +viciousness or other cause suddenly stops, the man keeps on at the same +rate over the animal's head; so we, supposing the Earth to be suddenly +arrested on its axis, men, women, children, horses, cattle and sheep, +donkeys, editors and members of Congress, with all our goods and +chattels, would be thrown off into the air at a speed of 173 miles a +minute, every mother's son of us describing the arc of a parabola, which +is probably the only description we should ever be able to give of the +affair. + +This catastrophe, to one sufficiently collected to enjoy it, would, +doubtless, be exceedingly amusing; but as there would probably be no +time for laughing, we pray that it may not occur until after our demise; +when, should it take place, our monument will probably accompany the +movement. It is a singular fact that if a man travel round the Earth in +an eastwardly direction he will find, on returning to the place of +departure, he has gained one whole day; the reverse of this proposition +being true also, it follows that the Yankees who are constantly +traveling to the West do not live as long by a day or two as they would +if they had stayed at home; and supposing each Yankee's time to be worth +$1.50 per day, it may be easily shown that a considerable amount of +money is annually lost by their roving dispositions. + +Science is yet but in its infancy; with its growth, new discoveries of +an astounding nature will doubtless be made, among which, probably, will +be some method by which the course of the Earth may be altered and it +be steered with the same ease and regularity through space and among the +stars as a steamboat is now directed through the water. It will be a +very interesting spectacle to see the Earth "rounding to," with her head +to the air, off Jupiter, while the Moon is sent off laden with mails and +passengers for that planet, to bring back the return mails and a large +party of rowdy Jupiterians going to attend a grand prize fight in the +ring of Saturn. + +Well, Christopher Columbus would have been just as much astonished at a +revelation of the steamboat and the locomotive engine as we should be to +witness the above performance, which our intelligent posterity during +the ensuing year A.D. 2000 will possibly look upon as a very ordinary +and common-place affair. + +Only three days ago we asked a medium where Sir John Franklin was at +that time; to which he replied, he was cruising about (officers and crew +all well) on the interior of the Earth, to which he had obtained +entrance through SYMMES HOLE! + +With a few remarks upon the Earth's Satellite, we conclude the first +Lecture on Astronomy; the remainder of the course being contained in a +second Lecture, treating of the planets, Mars, Jupiter, Saturn and +Neptune, the Asteroids, and the fixed stars, which last, being +"fixings," are, according to Mr. Charles Dickens, American property. + + +THE MOON + +This resplendent luminary, like a youth on the Fourth of July, has its +first quarter; like a ruined spendthrift its last quarter, and like an +omnibus, is occasionally full and new. The evenings on which it appears +between these last stages are beautifully illumined by its clear, mellow +light. + +The Moon revolves in an elliptical orbit about the Earth in twenty-nine +days twelve hours forty-four minutes and three seconds, the time which +elapses between one new Moon and another. It was supposed by the ancient +philosophers that the Moon was made of green cheese, an opinion still +entertained by the credulous and ignorant. Kepler and Tyco Brahe, +however, held to the opinion that it was composed of Charlotte Russe, +the dark portions of its surface being sponge cake, the light _blanc +mange_. Modern advances in science and the use of Lord Rosse's famous +telescope have demonstrated the absurdity of all these speculations by +proving conclusively that the Moon is mainly composed of the +_Ferro_--_sesqui_--_cyanuret, of the cyanide of potassium_! Up to the +latest dates from the Atlantic States, no one has succeeded in reaching +the Moon. Should anyone do so hereafter, it will probably be a woman, as +the sex will never cease making an exertion for that purpose as long as +there is a man in it. + +Upon the whole, we may consider the Moon an excellent institution, among +the many we enjoy under a free, republican form of government, and it is +a blessed thing to reflect that the President of the United States can +not _veto_ it, no matter how strong an inclination he may feel, from +principle or habit, to do so. + +It has been ascertained beyond a doubt that the Moon has no air. +Consequently, the common expressions, "the Moon was gazing down with an +air of benevolence," or with "an air of complacency," or with "an air of +calm superiority," are incorrect and objectionable, the fact being that +the Moon has no air at all. + +The existence of the celebrated "Man in the Moon" has been frequently +questioned by modern philosophers. The whole subject is involved in +doubt and obscurity. The only authority we have for believing that such +an individual exists, and has been seen and spoken with, is a fragment +of an old poem composed by an ancient Astronomer of the name of Goose, +which has been handed down to us as follows: + + "The man in the Moon came down too soon + To inquire the way to Norwich; + The man in the South, he burned his mouth, + Eating cold, hot porridge." + +The evidence conveyed in this distich is, however, rejected by the +skeptical, among modern Astronomers, who consider the passage an +allegory. "The man in the South," being supposed typical of the late +John C. Calhoun, and the "cold, hot porridge," alluded to the project of +nullification. + +END OF LECTURE FIRST + + + NOTE BY THE AUTHOR--Itinerant Lecturers are cautioned against + making use of the above production, without obtaining the necessary + authority from the proprietors of the Pioneer Magazine. To those + who may obtain such authority, it may be well to state that at the + close of the Lecture it was the intention of the author to exhibit + and explain to the audience an orrery, accompanying and + interspersing his remarks by a choice selection of popular airs on + the hand-organ. + + An economical orrery may be constructed by attaching eighteen wires + of graduated lengths to the shaft of a candlestick, apples of + different sizes being placed at their extremities to represent the + Planets, and a central orange resting on the candlestick, + representing the Sun. + + An orrery of this description is, however, liable to the objection + that if handed around among the audience for examination, it is + seldom returned uninjured. The author has known an instance in + which a child four years of age, on an occasion of this kind, + devoured in succession the planets Jupiter and Herschel, and bit a + large spot out of the Sun before he could be arrested. + + J.P. + + + + +AT AUNTY'S HOUSE + +BY JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY + + + One time, when we'z at Aunty's house-- + 'Way in the country!--where + They's ist but woods--an' pigs, an' cows-- + An' all's out-doors an' air!-- + An' orchurd-swing; an' churry-trees-- + An' _churries_ in 'em!--Yes, an' these- + Here red-head birds steals all they please, + An' tetch 'em ef you dare!-- + W'y, wunst, one time, when we wuz there, + _We et out on the porch_! + + Wite where the cellar-door wuz shut + The table wuz; an' I + Let Aunty set by me an' cut + My vittuls up--an' pie. + 'Tuz awful funny!--I could see + The red-heads in the churry-tree; + An' bee-hives, where you got to be + So keerful, goin' by;-- + An' "Comp'ny" there an' all!--an' we-- + _We et out on the porch_! + + An' I ist et _p'surves_ an' things + 'At Ma don't 'low me to-- + An' _chickun-gizzurds_--(don't like _wings_ + Like _Parunts_ does! do _you_?) + An' all the time, the wind blowed there, + An' I could feel it in my hair, + An' ist smell clover _ever_'where!-- + An' a' old red-head flew + Purt' nigh wite over my high-chair, + _When we et on the porch_! + + + + +WILLY AND THE LADY + +BY GELETT BURGESS + + + Leave the lady, Willy, let the racket rip, + She is going to fool you, you have lost your grip, + Your brain is in a muddle and your heart is in a whirl, + Come along with me, Willy, never mind the girl! + + Come and have a man-talk; + Come with those who _can_ talk; + Light your pipe and listen, and the boys will see you through; + Love is only chatter, + Friends are all that matter; + Come and talk the man-talk; that's the cure for you! + + Leave the lady, Willy, let her letter wait, + You'll forget your troubles when you get it straight, + The world is full of women, and the women full of wile; + Come along with me, Willy, we can make you smile! + + Come and have a man-talk, + A rousing black-and-tan talk, + There are plenty there to teach you; there's a lot for you to do; + Your head must stop its whirling + Before you go a-girling; + Come and talk the man-talk; that's the cure for you! + + Leave the lady, Willy, the night is good and long, + Time for beer and 'baccy, time to have a song; + Where the smoke is swirling, sorrow if you can-- + Come along with me, Willy, come and be a man! + + Come and have a man-talk, + Come with those who _can_ talk, + Light your pipe and listen, and the boys will see you through; + Love is only chatter, + Friends are all that matter; + Come and talk the man-talk; that's the cure for you! + + Leave the lady, Willy, you are rather young; + When the tales are over, when the songs are sung, + When the men have made you, try the girl again; + Come along with me, Willy, you'll be better then! + + Come and have a man-talk, + Forget your girl-divan talk; + You've got to get acquainted with another point of view! + Girls will only fool you; + We're the ones to school you; + Come and talk the man-talk; that's the cure for you! + + + + +THE ITINERANT TINKER + +BY CHARLES RAYMOND MACAULEY + + +Away off in front, and coming toward them along the same path, appeared +a singularly misshapen figure. As they came nearer, Dickey saw that it +was an old man carrying on his back, at each side and in front of him, +some part or piece of almost every imaginable thing. Umbrellas, chair +bottoms, panes of glass, knives, forks, pans, dusters, tubs, spoons and +stove-lids, graters and grind-stones, saws and samovars,--"Almost +everything one could possibly think of," said Dickey to himself. + +The moment that the Fantasm caught sight of the strange figure he +stopped, and Dickey noticed that his face, which was tucked securely +under his left arm, turned quite pale. + +"Gracious me!" he exclaimed in a thoroughly frightened way. "There's the +Itinerant Tinker again! Now," he added hastily and dolefully, "I shall +have to leave you and run for it." + +"Why, you're surely not afraid of _him_!" Dickey exclaimed +incredulously. Dickey was really surprised, for the old man, so far as +he could judge from that distance, wore an extremely mild and kindly +look. "Why do you have to run?" he asked. + +"Why? _Why?_" the Fantasm fairly shouted. "I told you a moment ago that +he was the _Itinerant Tinker_! He tries to mend every broken and +unbroken thing in Fantasma Land! Every time he catches me," went on the +Fantasm, as he edged cautiously away, "he tries to glue on my head. It's +very annoying--and, besides, it hurts! Good-by, Dickey!" he called, and +disappeared forthwith into the bushes. + +"Isn't he a droll person?" thought Dickey. "He never stops with me more +than ten minutes at a time but what he either loses his head or runs +away." + +By that time the Itinerant Tinker had come up to where Dickey stood. He +sat wearily down on a boulder by the wayside, removed some of the +heavier merchandise from off his back, and proceeded to mop his face +vigorously with a great red handkerchief. Dickey waited several minutes +for the old man to speak; but the Itinerant Tinker only regarded him +solemnly. He did not even smile. + +"It's very warm work, sir," ventured Dickey, at last, "carrying all that +stuff--isn't it?" + +"Stuff?" returned the Itinerant Tinker, in a very mild, but unmistakably +hurt tone of voice. + +"Well--" Dickey hesitated timidly. + +"_Don't_ call them stuff, please," sighed the Itinerant Tinker; "call +them necessary commodities." + +"But whatever one _does_ call them," Dickey persisted, "they still make +you warm to carry them all about, don't they?" + +The Itinerant Tinker nodded his head and sighed again. + +Again Dickey waited for a considerable space of time. But the old man +would have been perfectly content to sit there for ever, Dickey thought, +without speaking. "I _do_ wish he would talk," said he to himself. +"It's awfully annoying to have him sit there and look at one without +saying a word." + +"What do you mend, sir?" Dickey inquired at last. + +"I tried once," sighed the Itinerant Tinker, sadly, "to mend the break +of day. It took me twenty-seven hours and eleven minutes to fix it, and +it broke every twenty-four. At that rate how long would it take to patch +them all together?" + +Another distressing silence. + +"Have you figured _that_ out?" whispered the Itinerant Tinker at length. + +"I haven't tried," Dickey admitted. + +"_I_ tried once," the Itinerant Tinker said, "but I ran out of paper and +gave it up. Then, when the night fell," he resumed dolefully, after +another long interval of silence, "I tried to prop it up. But I met with +the same difficulty that confronted me in patching up the day, and was +forced to abandon _that_ too." + +"In which direction were you going when I met you?" Dickey asked. + +The Itinerant Tinker pointed ahead of him along the path and mopped his +bald head. + +"But where?" insisted Dickey. + +"To the Crypt. I was going to the Crypt," murmured the Itinerant Tinker, +"to see whether I couldn't get some umbrellas to mend." + +"But they don't need umbrellas in the Crypt, do they?" Dickey asked, +surprised. + +"No, they don't," sighed the Itinerant Tinker; "and _that's_ the reason +I'm going there." + +"If you don't mind," said Dickey, "I should like to go with you." + +Without a word of reply the Itinerant Tinker rose slowly and painfully +to his feet, rearranged on his back the merchandise he had laid aside, +and started off up the hill, with Dickey following closely at his heels. + +"I tried to mend the Great Dipper once," resumed the Itinerant Tinker, +at length. "I only succeeded, however, in crooking the handle; but it +looks better that way, I think." + +"How did you manage to reach it?" asked Dickey, a little doubtfully. + +"I climbed up the Milky Way," replied the Itinerant Tinker, sadly. "In +order to reach it after I got there, I was obliged to stand on the horn +of the moon. It was a very perilous undertaking." + +Dickey couldn't believe quite all that the Itinerant Tinker was telling +him. But his mild and gentle eyes wore such a serious expression that he +very much disliked to doubt the old man's word. + +"Speaking of the moon," went on the Itinerant Tinker after a while, "I +tried once to make her stand up--after she had set, you know. It proved +a thankless task. She treated me very rudely, indeed. By the by, have +you seen the Flighty-wight?" + +"No, sir; I have not," replied Dickey. + +"_He's_ always jumping at conclusions, you know. I jumped at a +conclusion once, fell into disgrace, and was very much cut up over it. I +tried to patch _him_ up and he called me an old meddler! You haven't +heard of such ingratitude before, I fancy?" + +"It was very mean of him, I think," said Dickey, sympathetically. + +"Oh, _that's_ nothing," pursued the Itinerant Tinker, in a melancholy +tone. "That's _nothing_! I once attempted to solder a new tip on the +Wizard's wand. He turned me into a rabbit, _he_ did." + +"Whatever did you do then?" asked Dickey. + +"I protested, of course. He merely said that he was only making game of +me. But if there's any one thing that I can do better than another," +went on the Itinerant Tinker, after another embarrassing pause, "it's +piecing together a split infinitive. Would you like me to show you how +it's done?" + +"Indeed, I should," Dickey eagerly answered; "very much, indeed." + +"Very well, then. Just give me time to set down these necessary +commodities, and I'll show you exactly the manner in which it's done and +undone." + +After he had rid himself of his awkward burden, the Itinerant Tinker +carefully selected a saw from his kit of tools. + +"Is that a log over there?" he asked, pointing toward a mound of earth. +"I'm a trifle nearsighted, you know." + +"No," Dickey replied. "But there's one off there, just to the other +side. A big one, too." + +"The identical thing," said the Itinerant Tinker. Whereupon he walked +over to it and immediately began sawing a thin slab from off its smooth +end. + +"Now," said he, after he had finished the rather difficult task, oiled +his saw and returned it to his kit, "I proceed to write the word LOVE in +the infinitive mood." + +"Is that a sad mood?" asked Dickey. "It sounds very much like it, I +think." + +Without heeding the question in the least the Itinerant Tinker turned +the slab for Dickey's inspection, and he read on it the two words, TO +LOVE. Taking up a wedge the Itinerant Tinker printed the word DEARLY on +the flat side of it, and then skilfully drove it between the words TO +and LOVE. When he again held it up for Dickey to see, it read: TO DEARLY +LOVE. + +"There!" exclaimed the Itinerant Tinker, holding the slab proudly at +arm's length and turning his head slowly from side to side, "that's what +I call a fine bit of ingenuity!" + +"So that's a split infinitive, is it?" Dickey asked. + +"Why, you _stupid_ boy!" the Itinerant Tinker exclaimed; "didn't you +just this minute see me split it?" + +"Yes, sir; I did," Dickey murmured rather shamefacedly. + +"Then, if I _split_ it, what else _could_ it be but a split infinitive, +I'd like to know?" + +"Well," said Dickey, a bit timidly, "I never heard a block of wood +called an _infinitive_ before." + +"Oh, my!" sighed the Itinerant Tinker, as he sank down on his pile of +merchandise. "How you _do_ weary me!" + +He sat looking at the slab of wood for such a long time, turning it +admiringly now that way, now this, that poor Dickey began to grow quite +nervous. + +"Please," he ventured at last, "won't you show me now how you mend it?" +Dickey didn't care in the least to see it done, but he imagined that by +asking the question he would regain the good will of the old man. + +"There you go again! There you go!" exclaimed the Itinerant Tinker. He +actually shed a tear. "I knew you'd do it--I knew it!" + +"Now what have I done?" asked Dickey, innocently. + +"You've broken the silence," said the Itinerant Tinker, sadly. "It'll +take me hours and hours to glue _that_ together. But first," he went on, +after another long pause, "I'll show you how neatly this split +infinitive can be mended." + +Thereupon he withdrew the wedge, dipped a brush into a pot of glue, and, +after distributing the sticky fluid over the split sides, brought them +carefully and neatly together. + +"There!" he exclaimed, triumphantly, "_that's_ the proper way to bring +together a split infinitive. Beware, my boy, of splitting your +infinitives; but if you do, call on the Itinerant Tinker and _he'll_ +straighten 'em out for you." + +"Before we move along," he resumed, after he had loaded himself with his +merchandise, "perhaps you'd like to listen to a story?" + +"I should, if it wasn't about split infinitives," replied Dickey, +doubtfully. "They really make me quite dizzy." + +"Well, it's not," said the Itinerant Tinker, smiling vaguely. "It's the +story of the + +PEDANTIC PEDAGOGUE + + "I saw him sitting--sitting there, + Outside the school-house door, + It was a dismal afternoon; + The hour was half-past four. + + "I asked him, 'Sir, what is your name?' + His voice came through the fog: + 'I have forgotten it, kind sir, + But I'm a Pedagogue. + + "'And I'm so absent-minded, sir, + I put my clothes to bed + And hang myself upon a chair; + Is not that odd?' he said. + + "'And every morning of my life + I climb into my tub; + Then wonder why I'm sitting there. + Ah, me, man! _that's_ the rub!' + + "He wiped his spectacles and said: + 'Kind sir, observe this frog. + I took him in this net, when he + Was but a pollywog. + + "'Now it's my wish, good sir, to seek + The seismocosmic state; + And why this strange amphibian + Should slowly gravitate + + "'From a mere firmisternial thing + To--' 'Say!' I cried, 'please wait! + I can not understand a word + Of that which you relate.' + + "'Now, please tell me,' he said again, + 'The sum of the equation + Between the harp and hippogriff; + Define their true relation.' + + "'I can not answer you,' I said, + 'Because I'm but a tinker. + But I can mend your old umbrel'; + 'Twill be a dime, I think, sir.' + + "Just then the frog dived off his hand + And swam out to the fence, + Which was an easy thing to do-- + The vapor was so dense. + + "And there he perched upon a post; + It was a sight to see + The way he made grimaces at + The Pedagogue and me. + + "It vexed us very much to see + A frog so impolite + I flung a gnarly stick at him-- + Flung it with all my might. + + "It floated softly on the fog. + As softly as a feather; + The frog jumped on and sailed away, + Leaving us there together + + "A-shaking both our fists at him + Till they were sore and numb. + The bull-frog merely blinked at us, + And sang: '_You'll drown!_ BOTTLE-O'-RUM!' + + "With that I left the Pedagogue + A-sitting in the wet. + He was so absent-minded, I + Dare say he's sitting yet-- + + "Upon the little school-house steps, + Revolving in his mind + The definite relation 'twixt + The cosmos and mankind." + +When the Itinerant Tinker had finished his story he rose wearily to his +feet. + +"If we don't hurry along," he said, "I doubt whether we shall reach the +Crypt in time to take our tea. I never--" + +He was interrupted at this point by a shrill voice, coming, it seemed, +from the direction of the forest. + +"Jingle-junk! jingle-junk! jingle-junk!" shouted the penetrating voice. + +The Itinerant Tinker stopped instantly. An angry frown gathered on his +brow. + +"I know who _that_ is," he muttered. "It's Wamba, son of Witless, the +Jester of Ivanhoe. I've been trying to catch _him_ for seventy-two +years, and if I do, I'll--" + +Dickey never heard the end of the sentence for the Itinerant Tinker made +for the wood at a surprisingly swift gait. The incident had its really +amusing side, too; for he left behind him a trail of pots, pans, +boilers, stove-lids, potato-mashers--in fact, Dickey thought, he must +have dropped almost all of his "necessary commodities" by the time he +had vanished into the wood. + + + + +THE STRIKE OF ONE + +BY ELLIOTT FLOWER + + +Danny Burke was discharged. + +A certain distinguished ex-President of the United States probably would +have said that he was discharged for "pernicious activity"; but the head +of the branch messenger-office merely said that he was "an infernal +nuisance." + +Danny was a good union man. As a matter of fact, he was a boy, and a +small boy at that; but he would have scorned any description that did +not put him down as "a good union man." Danny's environment had been one +of uncompromising unionism, and that was what ailed him. He wanted to +advance the union idea. To this end, he undertook to organize the other +messengers in the branch office, advancing all the arguments that he had +heard his mother and his father use in their discussions. The boys +thought favorably of the scheme, but most of them were inclined to let +some one else do the experimenting. It might result disastrously. Just +to encourage them, Danny became insolent, as he had already become +inattentive; he told the manager what he would do and what he would not +do, and positively declined to deliver a message that would carry his +work a few minutes beyond quitting-time. + +Then Danny was discharged--and he laughed. Discharge _him_! Well, he'd +show them a thing or two. + +"We'll arbitrate," he announced. + +"Get out!" ordered the manager. + +"You got to arbitrate," insisted Danny. "You got to confer with your men +or you're goin' to have a strike!" Danny had heard so much about +conferences that he felt he was on safe ground now. "We can't stand fer +no autycrats!" he added. "You got to meet your men fair an' talk it +over. A committee--" + +"Get out!" repeated the manager, rising from his desk, near which the +waiting boys were seated. + +"Men," yelled Danny, "I calls a strike an' a boycott!" + +Two of the boys rose as if to follow him, but the manager was too quick. +He had Danny by the collar before Danny knew what had happened, and the +struggling boy was marched to the door and pushed out. The boys who had +risen promptly subsided. + +Danny was too astonished for words. In all his extended hearsay +knowledge of strikes he never had heard of anything like this. There was +nothing heroic in it at all. He had expected a conference, and, instead, +he was ignominiously handled and thrust into the street. + +Danny sat down on a pile of paving-stones to think it over. Without +reasoning the matter out, he now regarded himself as a union. The other +members had deserted him, but he was on a strike; and somehow he had +absorbed the idea that the men who were striking were always the union +men. So, this being a strike of one, he was an entire union. It did not +take him long to decide that the first thing to do was to "picket the +plant." That was a familiar phrase, and he knew the meaning of it. +Everything was nicely arranged for him, too. The street was being paved, +and he was sitting on some paving-stones, with a pile of gravel beside +him. He selected fifteen or twenty of the largest stones from the +gravel-pile. + +A woman was the first victim. As she was about to enter the +messenger-office she was startled by a yell of warning from Danny. + +"Hey, you!" he shouted. "Keep out!" + +She backed away hastily, and looked up to see if anything were about to +fall on her. + +"Why should I keep out?" she asked at last. + +"'Cause you'll git hit with a rock if you don't," was the prompt reply. + +"But, little boy--" she began. + +"I ain't a little boy," asserted Danny. "I'm a union." + +The woman looked puzzled, but she finally decided that this was some +boyish joke. + +"You'd better run home," she said, and turned to enter the +messenger-office. She could not refrain from looking over her shoulder, +however, and she saw that he was poised for a throw. + +"Don't do that!" she cried hastily. "You might hurt me." + +"Sure I'll hurt you," was the reply. "I'll smash your block in if you +don't git a move on." + +The woman decided to look for another messenger-office, and Danny, +triumphant, resumed his seat on the paving-stones. + +Then came another messenger, returning from a trip. + +"What's the matter, Danny?" he asked. + +"Got the plant picketed," asserted Danny. "Nobody can't go in or come +out." + +"I'm goin' in," said the other boy. + +"You!" exclaimed Danny scornfully, as he suddenly caught the boy and +swung him over on to the stones. + +"No, I ain't, Danny," the boy hastened to say, for Danny gave every +evidence of an intent to batter in his face. + +"Sure?" asked Danny. + +"Honest." + +"This here's a strike," explained Danny. + +"Oh, I didn't know that," apologized the boy. "I ain't a +strike-breaker." + +Danny let him up, but made him sit on another pile of stones a short +distance away. He would be all right as long as he kept still, Danny +explained, but no longer. + +While Danny was continuing strike operations with rapidly growing +enthusiasm, the woman he had first stopped was taking an unexpected part +in the little comedy. She had gone to another of the branch offices with +the message she wished delivered, and had told of the trouble she had +experienced. Thereupon the manager of this office called up the manager +of the other on the telephone. + +"What's the matter over there?" he asked. + +"Nothing," was the surprised reply. "Who said there was?" + +"Why, a woman has just reported that she was driven away by a boy with a +pile of stones." + +The manager hastened to the window, and realized at once that something +was decidedly wrong. On a pile of paving-stones directly in front of the +door sat the proud and happy Danny. At his feet there was a pile of +smaller stones, and he held a few in his hands. On his right was a boy +who had started on a trip a short time before, and on his left was one +who should have reported back. A man was gesticulating excitedly, a +number of others and some boys were laughing, and Danny seemed to be +intimating that any one who tried to enter would be hurt. + +"Jim," said the manager to the largest messenger, "go out there and see +what's the matter with Danny Burke. Tell him I'll have him arrested if +he doesn't get out." + +Danny was a wise general. He wanted no prisoners that he could not +handle easily, and this big boy would be dangerous to have within his +lines. The big boy was a sort of star messenger, who did not fraternize +with Danny anyhow. Consequently Danny fired a volley the moment he saw +who it was, and the big boy hastily retreated, bearing with him one bump +on the forehead. + +"That's Jim," Danny explained to the increasing crowd. "He's the +biggest, next to the boss. Watch me nail the boss." + +"You're the stuff!" exclaimed some of the delighted loiterers, thus +proving that the loiterers are just as anxious to see trouble in a small +strike as in a large one. + +Danny picked out a stone considerably larger than the others, for he +expected the manager to appear next, and the manager had incurred his +personal enmity. In the case of his victims thus far, he had acted +merely on principle--to win his point. + +The manager appeared. For his own prestige (necessary to maintain +discipline), the manager had to do something, but he felt reasonably +sure that the dignity of his official position would make Danny less +hasty and strenuous than he had been with others. The manager planned to +extend the olive branch and at the same time raise the siege by +beckoning Danny in, so that he might reason with him and show him how +surely he would land in a police station if he would not consent to be a +good boy. This would be quicker and better than summoning an officer. +But the manager got the big stone in the pit of his stomach just as he +had raised his hand to beckon, and he and his dignity collapsed +together, with a most plebeian grunt. As he had not closed the door, he +quickly rolled inside, where he lay on the floor with his hands on his +stomach and listened to the joyous yelps of the crowd outside. This was +too much for the manager. + +"Call up police headquarters," he said, still holding his stomach as if +fearful that it might become detached, "and tell them there's a riot +here." + +The boy addressed obeyed literally. + +Meanwhile Danny had decided that, as victory perched on his banners, it +was time to state the terms on which he would permit the enemy to +surrender, but he was too wise to put himself in the enemy's power +before these terms were settled. + +"Go in, Tim," was the order he gave to one of his prisoners, "an' tell +the guy with the stomick-ache that when he recognizes the union an' +gives me fifty cents more a week an' makes a work-day end when the clock +strikes, I'm willin' to call it off." + +"Make him come down handsome," advised one of the loiterers. + +"I guess I got 'em on the run," said Danny exultingly. + +But Tim went in and failed to come out. This was not Tim's fault, +however, for the manager released his hold on his stomach long enough to +get a grip on Tim's collar. The striker's defiance seemed to displease +him, and, because he could not shake Danny, he shook Tim, and he said +things to Tim that he would have preferred to say to Danny. Then his +excited harangue was interrupted by the sound of a gong, which convinced +him that he might again venture to the door. + +Danny was in the grasp of the strong arm of the law. A half dozen +policemen had valiantly rushed through the crowd and captured the entire +besieging party, which was Danny. + +"What you doin'?" demanded Danny angrily. + +"What are _you_ doing?" retorted the police sergeant in charge. + +"This here's a strike," asserted Danny. "I got the plant picketed." + +"Run him in!" ordered the manager from the doorway. + +"What's the row?" asked the sergeant. + +"That's the row," said the manager, pointing to Danny. + +"That!" exclaimed the sergeant scornfully. "You said it was a riot. You +don't call that kid a riot, do you?" + +"Well, it's assault and battery, anyhow," insisted the manager. "He hit +me with a rock." + +"Where?" asked the sergeant. + +"Where he carries his brains," said Danny, which made the crowd yelp +with joy again. + +"Lock him up!" cried the manager angrily. "I'll prefer the charge and +appear against him." + +The sergeant looked at Danny and then at the manager. + +"Say!" he said at last, "you ain't got the nerve to charge this kid with +assaulting you, have you?" + +"I'm going to do it," said the manager. + +"Oh, all right," returned the sergeant disgustedly. + +The crowd was disposed to protest, but the police were in sufficient +force to make resistance unsafe, and Danny was lifted into the +patrol-wagon. + +At the station the captain happened to be present when Danny was brought +in, escorted by a wagon-load of policemen. + +"What's the charge?" asked the captain. + +"Assault and battery on a grown man!" was the scornful reply of the +sergeant. + +"What did he do?" persisted the surprised captain. + +"Hurt his digestion with a rock," explained the sergeant. + +"I was on strike," said Danny. "I'm a good union man. You got no +business to touch me." + +"I understand," said the sergeant, "that he was discharged, and he +stationed himself outside with a pile of rocks." + +"You've no right to do that," the captain told Danny. + +"They all do it," asserted Danny. + +This was so near the truth that the captain thought it wise to dodge the +subject. + +"Of course, if no one else will take a man's place," he explained, "the +employer will have to take him back or--" + +"There wasn't nobody tryin' to take my place--not while I was there!" +asserted Danny belligerently. + +"That's no lie, either," laughed the sergeant. "He had the office tied +up tight." + +Danny swelled with pride at this testimonial to his prowess. Then it +suddenly occurred to him that the sergeant did not act as he talked. + +"What'd you butt in for, then?" he demanded. + +"It was his duty," said the captain. + +"Ho!" exclaimed Danny. "It's your business to protect the public, ain't +it?" + +"Of course," admitted the captain. + +"Well, ain't we the public?" + +The captain laughed uneasily. His experience as a policeman had left him +very much in doubt as to who were the public. Both sides to a +controversy always claimed that distinction, and the law-breaker was +usually the louder in his claims. Danny's inability to see anything but +his own side of the case was far from unusual. + +The captain took Danny into his private office and talked to him. The +captain did not wish to lock up the boy, so he sent for Danny's father +and also for the manager of the branch messenger-office. Meanwhile he +tried to explain the matter to Danny, but Danny was obtuse. Why should +not he do as his father and his father's friends did? When they had a +disagreement with the boss, they picketed the plant, and ensuing +incidents sent many people to the hospitals. Why was it worse for one +boy to do this than it was for some hundreds or thousands of men? Danny +was confident that he was within his rights. + +"Dad knows," he said in conclusion. "Dad'll say I'm right. You got no +business mixin' in." + +"Dad's coming," the captain told him. + +The manager came first. "The boy ought to be punished," said he. "He hit +me with a rock." + +"I wish you'd seen him," said the beaming Danny to the captain, for the +recollection of that victory made all else seem trivial. "Say! he +doubled up like a clown droppin' into a barrel." + +"If he isn't punished," asserted the glowering manager, "he'll get worse +and worse and end by going to the devil." + +"Perhaps," replied the captain. "But just stand beside him a moment, +please. Don't dodge, Danny. He'll go behind the bars if he touches you. +Stand side by side." + +They did so. + +"Now," said the captain to the manager, "how do you think you'll look, +standing beside him in the police court and accusing him of assault and +battery?" + +"Like a fool," replied the manager promptly, forced to laugh in spite of +himself. + +"And what kind of a story--illustrated story--will it be for the +papers?" persisted the captain. + +"Let him go," said the manager; "but he ought to be whaled." + +It was at this point that Dan arrived, accompanied by his wife. + +"F'r why sh'u'd he be whaled?" demanded the latter aggressively. + +The matter was explained to her. + +"Is that thrue, Danny?" she asked. + +"Sure," replied the boy. + +"Well, I'd like to see anny wan outside the fam'ly whale ye," she said, +with a defiant look at the manager, "but I'll do it mesilf." + +Danny was astounded. In this quarter at least he had expected support. +He glanced at his father. + +"I'll take a lick or two at ye mesilf," said Dan. "The idee of breakin' +the law an' makin' all this throuble." + +"You've done it yourself," argued Danny. + +"Shut up!" commanded Dan. "Ye don't know what ye're talkin' about. A +sthrike's wan thing an' disordherly conduct's another." + +"This was a strike," insisted Danny. + +"Where's the union?" demanded Dan. + +"I'm it," replied Danny. "I was organizin' it." + +"If ye'll let him go, Captain," said Dan, ignoring his son's reply, +"I'll larrup him good." + +"For what?" wailed Danny. "I was only doin' what you said was right, an' +what mom said was right, an' what you've all been talkin' for years. +You've been a picket yourself, an' I've heard you laughin' over the way +men who wouldn't strike was done up. We got to organize. Wasn't I +organizin'? We got to enforce our rights. Wasn't I enforcin' them? We +got to discourage traitors to the cause of labor. Wasn't I discouragin' +them? Didn't the union tie up a plant once when you was discharged? +What's eatin' you, dad?" + +Danny's own presentation of the case was so strong that it gave him +courage. But the last question made Dan jump, although he was not +accustomed to any extraordinary show of respect from his son. + +"The lad has no sinse," he announced, "but I'll larrup him plenty. Ye +get an exthry wan f'r that, Danny. I'll tache ye that ye're not runnin' +things." + +"Makin' throuble f'r father an' mother an' th' good man that's payin' ye +wages we need at home," added Mrs. Burke. + +"Now, what do you think of that?" whimpered Danny, as he was led away. +"I'm to be licked fer doin' what he does. Why don't he teach himself the +same, an' stop others from doin' what he talks?" + +"Danny," said the commiserating captain, "you're to be licked for +learning your lesson too well, and that's the truth." + +But that did not make the situation any the less painful for Danny. + + + + +SIMON STARTS IN THE WORLD + +BY J.J. HOOPER + + +Until Simon entered his seventeenth year he lived with his father, an +old "hard-shell" Baptist preacher, who, though very pious and remarkably +austere, was very avaricious. The old man reared his boy--or endeavored +to do so--according to the strictest requisitions of the moral law. But +he lived, at the time to which we refer, in Middle Georgia, which was +then newly settled; and Simon, whose wits were always too sharp for his +father's, contrived to contract all the coarse vices incident to such a +region. He stole his mother's roosters to fight them at Bob Smith's +grocery, and his father's plow-horses to enter them in "quarter" matches +at the same place. He pitched dollars with Bob Smith himself, and could +"beat him into doll rags" whenever it came to a measurement. To crown +his accomplishments, Simon was tip-top at the game of "old sledge," +which was the fashionable game of that era, and was early initiated in +the mysteries of "stocking the papers." The vicious habits of Simon +were, of course, a sore trouble to his father, Elder Jedediah. He +reasoned, he counseled, he remonstrated, and he lashed; but Simon was an +incorrigible, irreclaimable devil. One day the simple-minded old man +returned rather unexpectedly to the field, where he had left Simon and +Ben and a negro boy named Bill at work. Ben was still following his +plow, but Simon and Bill were in a fence corner, very earnestly engaged +at "seven up." Of course the game was instantly suspended as soon as +they spied the old man, sixty or seventy yards off, striding towards +them. + +It was evidently a "gone case" with Simon and Bill; but our hero +determined to make the best of it. Putting the cards into one pocket, he +coolly picked up the small coins which constituted the stake, and fobbed +them in the other, remarking, "Well, Bill, this game's blocked; we'd as +well quit." + +"But, Mass Simon," remarked the boy, "half dat money's mine. Ain't you +gwine to lemme hab 'em?" + +"Oh, never mind the money, Bill; the old man's going to take the bark +off both of us; and besides, with the hand I helt when we quit, I should +'a' beat you and won it all, any way." + +"Well, but Mass Simon, we nebber finish de game, and de rule--" + +"Go to the devil with your rule!" said the impatient Simon. "Don't you +see daddy's right down upon us, with an armful of hickories? I tell you, +I helt nothin' but trumps, and could 'a' beat the horns off a +billy-goat. Don't that satisfy you? Somehow or another, you're d--d hard +to please!" About this time a thought struck Simon, and in a low +tone--for by this time the Reverend Jedediah was close at hand--he +continued, "But may be daddy don't know, _right down sure_, what we've +been doin'. Let's try him with a lie--'twon't hurt, noway: let's tell +him we've been playin' mumble-peg." + +Bill was perforce compelled to submit to this inequitable adjustment of +his claim to a share of the stakes; and of course agreed to swear to +the game of mumble-peg. All this was settled, and a pig driven into the +ground, slyly and hurriedly, between Simon's legs as he sat on the +ground, just as the old man reached the spot. He carried under his left +arm several neatly-trimmed sprouts of formidable length, while in his +left hand he held one which he was intently engaged in divesting of its +superfluous twigs. + +"Soho, youngsters!--_you_ in the fence corner, and the _crap_ in the +grass. What saith the Scriptur', Simon? 'Go to the ant, thou sluggard,' +and so forth and so on. What in the round creation of the yearth have +you and that nigger been a-doin'?" + +Bill shook with fear, but Simon was cool as a cucumber, and answered his +father to the effect that they had been wasting a little time in the +game of mumble-peg. + +"Mumble-peg! mumble-peg!" repeated old Mr. Suggs. "What's that?" + +Simon explained the process of _rooting_ for the peg: how the operator +got upon his knees, keeping his arms stiff by his sides, leaned forward, +and extracted the peg with his teeth. + +"So you git _upon your knees_, do you, to pull up that nasty little +stick! You'd better git upon 'em to ask mercy for your sinful souls and +for a dyin' world. But let's see one o' you git the peg up now." + +The first impulse of our hero was to volunteer to gratify the curiosity +of his worthy sire, but a glance at the old man's countenance changed +his "notion," and he remarked that "Bill was a long ways the best hand." +Bill, who did not deem Simon's modesty an omen very favorable to +himself, was inclined to reciprocate, compliments with his young +master; but a gesture of impatience from the old man set him instantly +upon his knees, and, bending forward, he essayed to lay hold with his +teeth of the peg, which Simon, just at that moment, very wickedly pushed +a half inch further down. Just as the breeches and hide of the boy were +stretched to the uttermost, old Mr. Suggs brought down his longest +hickory, with both hands, upon the precise spot where the tension was +greatest. With a loud yell, Bill plunged forward, upsetting Simon, and +rolled in the grass, rubbing the castigated part with fearful energy. +Simon, though overthrown, was unhurt; and he was mentally complimenting +himself upon the sagacity which had prevented his illustrating the game +of mumble-peg for the paternal amusement, when his attention was +arrested by the old man's stooping to pick up something--what is it?--a +card upon which Simon had been sitting, and which, therefore, had not +gone with the rest of the pack into his pocket. The simple Mr. Suggs had +only a vague idea of the pasteboard abomination called _cards_; and +though he decidedly inclined to the opinion that this was one, he was by +no means certain of the fact. Had Simon known this he would certainly +have escaped; but he did not. His father, assuming the look of extreme +sapiency, which is always worn by the interrogator who does not desire +or expect to increase his knowledge by his questions, asked: + +"What's this, Simon?" + +"The Jack-a-dimunts," promptly responded Simon, who gave up all as lost +after this _faux pas_. + +"What was it doin' down thar, Simon, my sonny?" continued Mr. Suggs, in +an ironically affectionate tone of voice. + +"I had it under my leg, thar to make it on Bill, the first time it come +trumps," was the ready reply. + +"What's trumps?" asked Mr. Suggs, with a view of arriving at the import +of the word. + +"Nothin' ain't trumps now," said Simon, who misapprehended his father's +meaning, "but _clubs_ was, when you come along and busted up the game." + +A part of this answer was Greek to the Reverend Mr. Suggs, but a portion +of it was full of meaning. They had, then, most unquestionably, been +"throwing" cards, the scoundrels! the "oudacious" little hellions! + +"To the 'mulberry' with both on ye, in a hurry," said the old man +sternly. But the lads were not disposed to be in a "hurry," for the +"mulberry" was the scene of all formal punishment administered during +work hours in the field. Simon followed his father, however, but made, +as he went along, all manner of "faces" at the old man's back; +gesticulated as if he were going to strike him between the shoulders +with his fists, and kicking at him so as almost to touch his coat tail +with his shoe. In this style they walked on to the mulberry-tree, in +whose shade Simon's brother Ben was resting. + +It must not be supposed that, during the walk to the place of +punishment, Simon's mind was either inactive, or engaged in suggesting +the grimaces and contortions wherewith he was pantomimically expressing +his irreverent sentiments toward his father. Far from it. The movements +of his limbs and features were the mere workings of habit--the +self-grinding of the corporeal machine--for which his reasoning half was +only remotely responsible. For while Simon's person was thus, on its own +account "making game" of old Jed'diah, his wits, in view of the +anticipated flogging, were dashing, springing, bounding, darting about, +in hot chase of some expedient suitable to the necessities of the case; +much after the manner in which puss--when Betty, armed with the broom, +and hotly seeking vengeance for pantry robbed or bed defiled, has closed +upon her the garret doors and windows--attempts all sorts of impossible +exits, to come down at last in the corner, with panting side and glaring +eye, exhausted and defenseless. Our unfortunate hero could devise +nothing by which he could reasonably expect to escape the heavy blows of +his father. Having arrived at this conclusion and the "mulberry" about +the same time, he stood with a dogged look, awaiting the issue. + +The old man Suggs made no remark to any one while he was sizing up +Bill,--a process which, though by no means novel to Simon, seemed to +excite in him a sort of painful interest. He watched it closely, as if +endeavoring to learn the precise fashion of his father's knot; and when +at last Bill was swung up a-tiptoe to a limb, and the whipping +commenced, Simon's eye followed every movement of his father's arm; and +as each blow descended upon the bare shoulders of his sable friend, his +own body writhed and "wriggled" in involuntary sympathy. + +"It's the devil, it is," said Simon to himself, "to take such a +wallopin' as that. Why, the old man looks like he wants to git to the +holler, if he could,--rot his old picter! It's wuth, at the least, +fifty cents--je-e-miny, how that hurt!--yes, it's wuth three-quarters of +a dollar to take that 'ere lickin'! Wonder if I'm 'predestinated,' as +old Jed'diah says, to git the feller to it? Lord, how daddy blows! I do +wish to God he'd bust wide open, the durned old deer-face! If 'twa'n't +for Ben helpin' him, I b'lieve I'd give the old dog a tussel when it +comes to my turn. It couldn't make the thing no wuss, if it didn't make +it no better. 'Drot it! what do boys have daddies for anyhow? 'Tain't +for nuthin' but jist to beat 'em and work 'em. There's some use in +mammies. I kin poke my finger right in the old 'oman's eye, and keep it +thar; and if I say it ain't thar, she'll say so, too. I wish she was +here to hold daddy off. If 'twa'n't so fur I'd holler for her, anyhow. +How she would cling to the old fellow's coat-tail!" + +Mr. Jedediah Suggs let down Bill and untied him. Approaching Simon, +whose coat was off, "Come, Simon, son," said he, "cross them hands; I'm +gwine to correct you." + +"It ain't no use, daddy," said Simon. + +"Why so, Simon?" + +"Jist bekase it ain't. I'm gwine to play cards as long as I live. When I +go off to myself, I'm gwine to make my livin' by it. So what's the use +of beatin' me about it?" + +Old Mr. Suggs groaned, as he was wont to do in the pulpit, at this +display of Simon's viciousness. + +"Simon," said he, "you're a poor ignunt creetur. You don't know nothin', +and you've never been nowhars. If I was to turn you off, you'd starve in +a week." + +"I wish you'd try me," said Simon, "and jist see. I'd win more money in +a week than you can make in a year. There ain't nobody round here kin +make seed corn off o' me at cards. I'm rale smart," he added with great +emphasis. + +"Simon! Simon! you poor unlettered fool. Don't you know that all +card-players and chicken-fighters and horse-racers go to hell? You +crack-brained creetur, you! And don't you know that them that plays +cards always loses their money, and--" + +"Who wins it all, then, daddy?" asked Simon. + +"Shet your mouth, you imperdent, slack-jawed dog! Your daddy's a-tryin' +to give you some good advice, and you a-pickin' up his words that way. I +knowed a young man once, when I lived in Ogletharp, as went down to +Augusty and sold a hundred dollars' worth of cotton for his daddy, and +some o' them gambollers got him to drinkin', and the _very first_ night +he was with 'em they got every cent of his money." + +"They couldn't get my money in a _week_," said Simon. "Anybody can git +these here green feller's money; them's the sort I'm a-gwine to watch +for myself. Here's what kin fix the papers jist about as nice as +anybody." + +"Well, it's no use to argify about the matter," said old Jed-diah. "What +saith the Scriptur'? 'He that begetteth a fool, doeth it to his sorrow.' +Hence, Simon, you're a poor, misubble fool,--so cross your hands!" + +"You'd jist as well not, daddy; I tell you I'm gwine to follow playin' +cards for a livin', and what's the use o' bangin' a feller about it? I'm +as smart as any of 'em, and Bob Smith says them Augusty fellers can't +make rent off o' me." + +The Reverend Mr. Suggs had once in his life gone to Augusta; an extent +of travel which in those days was a little unusual. His consideration +among his neighbors was considerably increased by the circumstance, as +he had all the benefit of the popular inference that no man could visit +the city of Augusta without acquiring a vast superiority over all his +untraveled neighbors, in every department of human knowledge. Mr. Suggs, +then, very naturally, felt ineffably indignant that an individual who +had never seen any collection of human habitations larger than a +log-house village--an individual, in short, no other or better than Bob +Smith--should venture to express an opinion concerning the manners, +customs, or anything else appertaining to, or in any wise connected +with, the _Ultima Thule_ of backwoods Georgians. There were two +propositions which witnessed their own truth to the mind of Mr. Suggs: +the one was that a man who had never been at Augusta could not know +anything about that city, or any place, or anything else; the other, +that one who _had_ been there must, of necessity, be not only well +informed as to all things connected with the city itself, but perfectly +_au fait_ upon all subjects whatsoever. It was therefore in a tone of +mingled indignation and contempt that he replied to the last remark of +Simon. + +"_Bob Smith_ says, does he? And who's _Bob Smith_? Much does _Bob Smith_ +know about Augusty! He's _been thar_, I reckon! Slipped off yerly some +mornin', when nobody warn't noticin', and got back afore night! It's +_only_ a hundred and fifty mile. Oh, yes, _Bob Smith_ knows _all_ about +it! _I_ don't know nothin' about it! _I_ ain't never been to +Augusty--_I_ couldn't find the road thar, I reckon--ha, ha! +_Bob_--_Sm-ith_! If he was only to see one of them fine gentlemen in +Augusty, with his fine broadcloth, and bell-crown hat, and shoe-boots +a-shinin' like silver, he'd take to the woods and kill himself +a-runnin'. Bob Smith! That's whar all your devilment comes from, Simon." + +"Bob Smith's as good as anybody else, I judge; and a heap smarter than +some. He showed me how to cut Jack," continued Simon, "and that's more +nor some people can do, if they _have_ been to Augusty." + +"If Bob Smith kin do it," said the old man, "I kin, too. I don't know it +by that name; but if it's book knowledge or plain sense, and Bob kin do +it, it's reasonable to s'pose that old Jed'diah Suggs won't be bothered +_bad_. Is it any ways similyar to the rule of three, Simon?" + +"Pretty similyar, daddy, but not adzactly," said Simon, drawing a pack +from his pocket to explain. "Now, daddy," he proceeded, "you see these +here four cards is what we call the Jacks. Well, now, the idee is, if +you'll take the pack and mix 'em all up together, I'll take off a passel +from the top, and the bottom one of them I take off will be one of the +Jacks." + +"Me to mix 'em fust?" said old Jed'diah. + +"Yes." + +"And you not to see but the back of the top one, when you go to 'cut,' +as you call it?" + +"Jist so, daddy." + +"And the backs all jist' as like as kin be?" said the senior Suggs, +examining the cards. + +"More alike nor cow-peas," said Simon. + +"It can't be done, Simon," observed the old man, with great solemnity. + +"Bob Smith kin do it, and so kin I." + +"It's agin nater, Simon; thar ain't a man in Augusty, nor on top of the +yearth, that kin do it!" + +"Daddy," said our hero, "ef you'll bet me--" + +"What!" thundered old Mr. Suggs. "_Bet_, did you says?" and he came down +with a _scorer_ across Simon's shoulders. "Me, Jed-diah Suggs, that's +been in the Lord's sarvice these twenty years,--_me_ bet, you nasty, +sassy, triflin', ugly--" + +"I didn't go to say _that_, daddy; that warn't what I meant adzactly. I +went to say that ef you'd let me off from this her maulin' you owe me, +and _give me_ 'Bunch,' if I cut Jack, I'd _give you_ all this here +silver, ef I didn't,--that's all. To be sure, I allers knowed _you_ +wouldn't _bet_." + +Old Mr. Suggs ascertained the exact amount of the silver which his son +handed him, in an old leathern pouch, for inspection. He also, mentally, +compared that sum with an imaginary one, the supposed value of a certain +Indian pony, called "Bunch," which he had bought for his "old woman's" +Sunday riding, and which had sent the old lady into a fence corner the +first and only time she ever mounted him. As he weighed the pouch of +silver in his hand, Mr. Suggs also endeavored to analyze the character +of the transaction proposed by Simon. "It sartinly _can't_ be nothin' +but _givin_', no way it kin be twisted," he murmured to himself. "I +_know_ he can't do it, so there's no resk. What makes bettin'? The resk. +It's a one-sided business, and I'll jist let him give me all his money, +and that'll put all his wild sportin' notions out of his head." + +"Will you stand it, daddy?" asked Simon, by way of waking the old man +up. "You mought as well, for the whippin' won't do you no good; and as +for Bunch, nobody about the plantation won't ride him but me." + +"Simon," replied the old man, "I agree to it. Your old daddy is in a +close place about payin' for his land; and this here money--it's jist +eleven dollars, lacking of twenty-five cents--will help out mightily. +But mind, Simon, ef anything's said about this hereafter, remember, you +_give_ me the money." + +"Very well, daddy; and ef the thing works up instid o' down, I s'pose +we'll say you give _me_ Bunch, eh?" + +"You won't never be troubled to tell how you come by Bunch; the thing's +agin nater, and can't be done. What old Jed'diah Suggs knows, he knows +as good as anybody. Give me them fix-ments, Simon." + +Our hero handed the cards to his father, who, dropping the plow-line +with which he had intended to tie Simon's hands, turned his back to that +individual, in order to prevent his witnessing the operation of +_mixing_. He then sat down, and very leisurely commenced shuffling the +cards, making, however, an exceedingly awkward job of it. Restive +_kings_ and _queens_ jumped from his hands, or obstinately refused to +slide into the company of the rest of the pack. Occasionally a sprightly +_knave_ would insist on _facing_ his neighbor; or, pressing his edge +against another's, half double himself up, and then skip away. But Elder +Jed'diah perseveringly continued his attempts to subdue the refractory, +while heavy drops burst from his forehead, and ran down his cheeks. All +of a sudden an idea, quick and penetrating as a rifle-ball, seemed to +have entered the cranium of the old man. He chuckled audibly. The devil +had suggested to Mr. Suggs an _impromptu_ "stock," which would place the +chances of Simon, already sufficiently slim in the old man's opinion, +without the range of possibility. Mr. Suggs forthwith proceeded to cut +all the _picter ones_, so as to be certain to include the _Jacks_, and +place them at the bottom, with the evident intention of keeping Simon's +fingers above these when he should cut. Our hero, who was quietly +looking over his father's shoulders all the time, did not seem alarmed +by this disposition of the cards; on the contrary, he smiled, as if he +felt perfectly confident of success, in spite of it. + +"Now, daddy," said Simon, when his father had announced himself ready, +"narry one of us ain't got to look at the cards, while I'm a-cuttin'; if +we do, it'll spile the conjuration." + +"Very well." + +"And another thing: you've got to look me right dead in the eye, daddy; +will you?" + +"To be sure,--to be sure," said Mr. Suggs; "fire away." + +Simon walked up close to his father, and placed his hand on the pack. +Old Mr. Suggs looked in Simon's eye, and Simon returned the look for +about three seconds, during which a close observer might have detected a +suspicious working of the wrist of the hand on the cards, but the elder +Suggs did not remark it. + +"Wake snakes! day's a-breakin'! Rise, Jack!" said Simon, cutting half a +dozen cards from the top of the pack, and presenting the face of the +bottom one for the inspection of his father. + +It was the Jack of hearts! + +Old Mr. Suggs staggered back several steps, with uplifted eyes and +hands! + +"Marciful master!" he exclaimed, "ef the boy hain't! Well, how in the +round creation of the--! Ben, did you ever? To be sure and sartain, +Satan has power on this yearth!" and Mr. Suggs groaned in very +bitterness. + +"You never seed nothin' like that in _Augusty_, did ye, daddy?" asked +Simon, with a malicious wink at Ben. + +"Simon, how _did_ you do it?" queried the old man, without noticing his +son's question. + +"Do it, daddy? Do it? 'Tain't nothin'. I done it jist as easy +as--shootin'." + +Whether this explanation was entirely, or in any degree, satisfactory to +the perplexed mind of Elder Jed'diah Suggs can not, after the lapse of +the time which has intervened, be sufficiently ascertained. It is +certain, however, that he pressed the investigation no farther, but +merely requested his son Benjamin to witness the fact that, in +consideration of his love and affection for his son Simon, and in order +to furnish the donee with the means of leaving that portion of the State +of Georgia, he bestowed upon him the impracticable pony, Bunch. + +"Jist so, daddy; jist so; I'll witness that. But it 'minds me mightily +of the way mammy _give_ old Trailler the side of bacon last week. She +a-sweepin' up the h'a'th; the meat on the table; old Trailler jumps up, +gethers the bacon, and darts! Mammy arter him with the broom-stick as +fur as the door, but seein' the dog has got the start, she shakes the +stick at him, and hollers, 'You sassy, aigsukkin', roguish, gnatty, +flop-eared varmint! take it along! take it along! I only wish 'twas full +of a'snic, and ox-vomit, and blue vitrul, so as 'twould cut your interls +into chitlins!' That's about the way you give Bunch to Simon." + +"Oh, shuh, Ben," remarked Simon, "I wouldn't run on that way. Daddy +couldn't help it; it was _predestinated_: 'Whom he hath, he will,' you +know," and the rascal pulled down the under lid of his left eye at his +brother. Then addressing his father, he asked, "War'n't it, daddy?" + +"To be sure--to be sure--all fixed aforehand," was old Mr. Suggs' reply. + +"Didn't I tell you so, Ben?" said Simon. "_I_ knowed it was all fixed +aforehand," and he laughed until he was purple in the face. + +"What's in ye? What are ye laughin' about?" asked the old man wrothily. + +"Oh, it's so funny that it could all 'a' been _fixed aforehand_!" said +Simon, and laughed louder than before. The obtusity of the Reverend Mr. +Suggs, however, prevented his making any discoveries. He fell into a +brown study, and no further allusion was made to the matter. + +It was evident to our hero that his father intended he should remain but +one more night beneath the paternal roof. What mattered it to Simon? + +He went home at night; curried and fed Bunch; whispered confidentially +in his ear that he was the "fastest piece of hossflesh, accordin' to +size, that ever shaded the yearth;" and then busied himself in preparing +for an early start on the morrow. + +Old Mr. Suggs' big red rooster had hardly ceased crowing in announcement +of the coming dawn, when Simon mounted the intractable Bunch. Both were +in high spirits: our hero at the idea of unrestrained license in future; +and Bunch from a mesmerical transmission to himself of a portion of his +master's deviltry. Simon raised himself in the stirrups, yelled a +tolerably fair imitation of the Creek war-whoop, and shouted: + +"I'm off, old stud! Remember the Jack-a-hearts!" + +Bunch shook his little head, tucked down his tail, ran sideways, as if +going to fall, and then suddenly reared, squealed, and struck off at a +brisk gallop. + + + + +A PIANO IN ARKANSAS + +BY THOMAS BANGS THORPE + + +We shall never forget the excitement which seized upon the inhabitants +of the little village of Hardscrabble as the report spread through the +community that a real piano had actually arrived within its precincts. + +Speculation was afloat as to its appearance and its use. The name was +familiar to everybody; but what it precisely meant, no one could tell. +That it had legs was certain; for a stray volume of some literary +traveler was one of the most conspicuous works in the floating library +of Hardscrabble, and said traveler stated that he had seen a piano +somewhere in New England with pantalets on; also, an old foreign paper +was brought forward, in which there was an advertisement headed +"Soiree," which informed the "citizens, generally," that Mr. Bobolink +would preside at the piano. + +This was presumed by several wiseacres, who had been to a menagerie, to +mean that Mr. Bobolink stirred the piano with a long pole, in the same +way that the showman did the lions and rhi-no-ce-rus. + +So, public opinion was in favor of its being an animal, though a +harmless one; for there had been a land-speculator through the village a +few weeks previously, who distributed circulars of a "Female Academy" +for the accomplishment of young ladies. These circulars distinctly +stated "the use of the piano to be one dollar per month." + +One knowing old chap said, if they would tell him what so-i-ree meant, +he would tell them what a piano was, and no mistake. + +The owner of this strange instrument was no less than a very quiet and +very respectable late merchant of a little town somewhere "north," who, +having failed at home, had emigrated into the new and hospitable country +of Arkansas, for the purpose of bettering his fortune and escaping the +heartless sympathy of his more lucky neighbors, who seemed to consider +him a very bad and degraded man because he had become honestly poor. + +The new-comers were strangers, of course. The house in which they were +setting up their furniture was too little arranged "to admit of calls;" +and, as the family seemed very little disposed to court society, all +prospects of immediately solving the mystery that hung about the piano +seemed hopeless. In the meantime, public opinion was "rife." + +The depository of this strange thing was looked upon by the passers-by +with indefinable awe; and, as noises unfamiliar sometimes reached the +street, it was presumed that the piano made them, and the excitement +rose higher than ever. In the midst of it, one or two old ladies, +presuming upon their age and respectability, called upon the strangers +and inquired after their health, and offered their services and +friendship; meantime, everything in the house was eyed with great +intensity, but, seeing nothing strange, a hint was given about the +piano. One of the new family observed, carelessly, "that it had been +much injured by bringing out, that the damp had affected its tones, and +that one of its legs was so injured that it would not stand up, and for +the present it would not ornament the parlor." + +Here was an explanation indeed: injured in bringing out; damp affecting +its tones; leg broken. "Poor thing!" ejaculated the old ladies, with +real sympathy, as they proceeded homeward; "traveling has evidently +fatigued it; the Mass-is-sip fogs has given it a cold, poor thing!" and +they wished to see it with increased curiosity. + +The "village" agreed that if Moses Mercer, familiarly called "Mo +Mercer," was in town, they would have a description of the piano, and +the uses to which it was put; and, fortunately, in the midst of the +excitement "Mo" arrived, he having been temporarily absent on a +hunting-expedition. + +Moses Mercer was the only son of "old Mercer," who was, and had been, in +the State Senate ever since Arkansas was admitted into the "Union." Mo +from this fact received great glory, of course; his father's greatness +alone would have stamped him with superiority; but his having been twice +in the "Capitol" when the legislature was in session stamped his claims +to pre-eminence over all competitors. + +Mo Mercer was the oracle of the renowned village of Hardscrabble. + +"Mo" knew everything; he had all the consequence and complacency of a +man who had never seen his equal, and never expected to. "Mo" bragged +extensively upon his having been to the "Capitol" twice,--of his there +having been in the most "fashionable society,"--of having seen the +world. His return to town was therefore received with a shout. The +arrival of the piano was announced to him, and he alone of all the +community was not astonished at the news. + +His insensibility was considered wonderful. He treated the piano as a +thing that he was used to, and went on, among other things, to say that +he had seen more pianos in the "Capitol," than he had ever seen +woodchucks, and that it was not an animal, but a musical instrument +played upon by the ladies; and he wound up his description by saying +that the way "the dear creatures could pull music out of it was a +caution to hoarse owls." + +The new turn given to the piano-excitement in Hardscrabble by Mo Mercer +was like pouring oil on fire to extinguish it, for it blazed out with +more vigor than ever. That it was a musical instrument made it a rarer +thing in that wild country than if it had been an animal, and people of +all sizes, colors, and degrees were dying to see and hear it. + +Jim Cash was Mo Mercer's right-hand man: in the language of refined +society, he was "Mo's toady;" in the language of Hardscrabble, he was +"Mo's wheel-horse." Cash believed in Mo Mercer with an abandonment that +was perfectly ridiculous. Mr. Cash was dying to see the piano, and the +first opportunity he had alone with his Quixote he expressed the desire +that was consuming his vitals. + +"We'll go at once and see it," said Mercer. + +"Strangers!" echoed the frightened Cash. + +"Humbug! Do you think I have visited the 'Capitol' twice, and don't know +how to treat fashionable society? Come along at once, Cash," said +Mercer. + +Off the pair started, Mercer all confidence, and Cash all fears as to +the propriety of the visit. These fears Cash frankly expressed; but +Mercer repeated for the thousandth time his experience in the +fashionable society of the "Capitol, and pianos," which he said "was +synonymous;" and he finally told Cash, to comfort him, that, however +abashed and ashamed he might be in the presence of the ladies, "he +needn't fear of sticking, for he would pull him through." + +A few minutes' walk brought the parties on the broad galleries of the +house that contained the object of so much curiosity. The doors and +windows were closed, and a suspicious look was on everything. + +"Do they always keep a house closed up this way that has a piano in it?" +asked Cash mysteriously. + +"Certainly," replied Mercer: "the damp would destroy its tones." + +Repeated knocks at the doors, and finally at the windows, satisfied both +Cash and Mercer that nobody was at home. In the midst of their +disappointment, Cash discovered a singular machine at the end of the +gallery, crossed by bars and rollers and surmounted with an enormous +crank. Cash approached it on tiptoe; he had a presentiment that he +beheld the object of his curiosity, and, as its intricate character +unfolded itself, he gazed with distended eyes, and asked Mercer, with +breathless anxiety, what that strange and incomprehensible box was. + +Mercer turned to the thing as coolly as a north wind to an icicle, and +said, that was _it_. + +"That _it_!" exclaimed Cash, opening his eyes still wider; and then, +recovering himself, he asked to see "the tone." + +Mercer pointed to the cross-bars and rollers. With trembling hands, with +a resolution that would enable a man to be scalped without winking, +Cash reached out his hand and seized the handle of the crank (Cash, at +heart, was a brave and fearless man). He gave it a turn: the machinery +grated harshly, and seemed to clamor for something to be put in its maw. + +"What delicious sounds!" said Cash. + +"Beautiful!" observed the complacent Mercer, at the same time seizing +Cash's arm and asking him to desist, for fear of breaking the instrument +or getting it out of tune. + +The simple caution was sufficient; and Cash, in the joy of the moment at +what he had done and seen, looked as conceited as Mo Mercer himself. + +Busy indeed was Cash, from this time forward, in explaining to gaping +crowds the exact appearance of the piano, how he had actually taken hold +of it, and, as his friend Mo Mercer observed, "pulled music out of it." + +The curiosity of the village was thus allayed, and consequently died +comparatively away,--Cash, however, having risen to almost as much +importance as Mo Mercer, for having seen and handled the thing. + +Our "Northern family" knew little or nothing of all this excitement; +they received meanwhile the visits and congratulations of the hospitable +villagers, and resolved to give a grand party to return some of the +kindness they had received, and the piano was, for the first time, moved +into the parlor. No invitation on this occasion was neglected; early at +the post was every visitor, for it was rumored that Miss Patience +Doolittle would, in the course of the evening, "perform on the piano." + +The excitement was immense. The supper was passed over with a contempt +rivaling that which is cast upon an excellent farce played preparatory +to a dull tragedy in which the star is to appear. The furniture was all +critically examined, but nothing could be discovered answering Cash's +description. An enormously thick-leafed table with a "spread" upon it +attracted little attention, timber being so very cheap in a new country, +and so everybody expected soon to see the piano "brought in." + +Mercer, of course, was the hero of the evening: he talked much and +loudly. Cash, as well as several young ladies, went into hysterics at +his wit. Mercer, as the evening wore away, grew exceedingly conceited, +even for him; and he graciously asserted that the company present +reminded him of his two visits to the "Capitol," and other associations +equally exclusive and peculiar. + +The evening wore on apace, and still no piano. That hope deferred which +maketh the heart sick was felt by some elderly ladies and by a few +younger ones; and Mercer was solicited to ask Miss Patience Doolittle to +favor the company with the presence of the piano. + +"Certainly," said Mercer and with the grace of a city dandy he called +upon the lady to gratify all present with a little music, prefacing his +request with the remark that if she was fatigued "his friend Cash would +give the machine a turn." + +Miss Patience smiled, and looked at Cash. + +Cash's knees trembled. + +All eyes in the room turned upon him. + +Cash trembled all over. + +Miss Patience said she was gratified to hear that Mr. Cash was a +musician; she admired people who had a musical taste. Whereupon Cash +fell into a chair, as he afterward observed, "chawed up." + +Oh that Beau Brummel or any of his admirers could have seen Mo Mercer +all this while! Calm as a summer morning, complacent as a newly-painted +sign, he smiled and patronized, and was the only unexcited person in the +room. + +Miss Patience rose. A sigh escaped from all present: the piano was +evidently to be brought in. She approached the thick-leafed table and +removed the covering, throwing it carelessly and gracefully aside, +opened the instrument, and presented the beautiful arrangement of dark +and white keys. + +Mo Mercer at this, for the first time in his life, looked confused: he +was Cash's authority in his descriptions of the appearance of the piano; +while Cash himself began to recover the moment that he ceased to be an +object of attention. Many a whisper now ran through the room as to the +"tones," and more particularly the "crank"; none could see them. + +Miss Patience took her seat, ran her fingers over a few octaves, and if +"Moses in Egypt" was not perfectly _executed_, Moses in Hardscrabble +_was_. The dulcet sound ceased. "Miss," said Cash, the moment that he +could express himself, so entranced was he by the music,--"Miss +Doolittle, what was the instrument Mo Mercer showed me in your gallery +once, it went by a crank and had rollers in it?" + +It was now the time for Miss Patience to blush: so away went the blood +from confusion to her cheeks. She hesitated, stammered, and said, if Mr. +Cash must know, it was a-a-a-_Yankee washing-machine_. + +The name grated on Mo Mercer's ears as if rusty nails had been thrust +into them; the heretofore invulnerable Mercer's knees trembled, the +sweat started to his brow, as he heard the taunting whispers of +"visiting the Capitol twice" and seeing pianos as plenty as woodchucks. + +The fashionable vices of envy and maliciousness were that moment sown in +the village of Hardscrabble; and Mo Mercer, the great, the confident, +the happy and self-possessed, surprising as it may seem, was the first +victim sacrificed to their influence. + +Time wore on, and pianos became common, and Mo Mercer less popular; and +he finally disappeared altogether, on the evening of the day on which a +Yankee peddler of notions sold to the highest bidder, "six patent, +warranted, and improved Mo Mercer pianos." + + + + +WHAR DEM SINFUL APPLES GROW + +BY ANNE VIRGINIA CULBERTSON + + Ol' Adam he live in de Gyardin uv Eden, + ('Way down yonner) + He didn' know writin' an' he didn' know readin', + ('Way down yonner) + He stay dar erlone jes' eatin' an' a-sleepin', + He say, "Dis mighty po' comp'ny I'se a-keepin'," + 'Way down yonner whar dem sinful apples grow. + + So dey tuck ol' Adam an' dey putt him a-nappin', + ('Way down yonner) + An' de fus' thing you know dish yer w'at happen, + ('Way down yonner) + Dey tucken his rib an' dey made a 'ooman, + She mighty peart an' she spry an' she bloomin', + 'Way down yonner whar dem sinful apples grow. + + Dey 'spute sometimes an' he say, ol' Adam, + ('Way down yonner) + "You nuttin' but spar'-rib, nohow, madam," + ('Way down yonner) + She say, "Dat de trufe an' hit ain' a-hu't'n', + Fer de spar'-rib's made f'um a hawg, dat's sut'n," + 'Way down yonner whar dem sinful apples grow. + + De Sarpint he slip in de Gyardin uv Eden, + ('Way down yonner) + He seed Mis' Eve an' he 'gun his pleadin', + ('Way down yonner) + 'Twel she tucken de apple an' den he quit 'er, + Hissin', "Ho! ho! dat fruit mighty bitter." + 'Way down yonner whar dem sinful apples grow. + + Ol' Adam he say, "W'at dat you eatin'?" + ('Way down yonner) + "Please gimme a bite er dat summer-sweetin'," + ('Way down yonner) + She gin de big haff wid de core an' de seed in, + An' dar whar she show her manners an' her breedin', + 'Way down yonner whar dem sinful apples grow. + + Den Adam he ac' right sneakin' sho'ly, + ('Way down yonner) + An' mek his 'scuse ter de Lawd right po'ly, + ('Way down yonner) + Blamin' Eve 'kase she do w'at he tell 'er, + An' settin' dat 'zample fer many a feller, + 'Way down yonner whar dem sinful apples grow. + + Den de Lawd He say in de Gyardin uv Eden, + ('Way down yonner) + "No sech a man shell do my weedin'," + ('Way down yonner) + So fo'th f'um de Gyardin de Lawd He bid him, + An' o' co'se Mis' Eve she up an' went wid him, + 'Way down yonner whar dem sinful apples grow. + + Oh, sinner, is you in de Gyardin uv Eden? + ('Way down yonner) + Is you on dem sinful apples feedin'? + ('Way down yonner) + Come out, oh, sinner, befo' youse driven, + De debil gwine git you ef you goes on livin' + 'Way down yonner whar dem sinful apples grow! + + + + +A NIGHT IN A ROCKING-CHAIR + +BY KATE FIELD + + +It may be true that America is going to perdition; that all Americans +are rascals; that there are no American gentlemen; that culture, +refinement, and social manners can only be found in the Old World: but +if it be true, what an extraordinary anomaly it is that women, old and +young, ugly and handsome, can travel alone from one end of this great +country to the other, receiving only such attention as is acceptable. +Having journeyed up and down the land to the extent of twenty thousand +miles, I am persuaded that a woman can go anywhere and do anything, +provided she conducts herself properly. Of course it would be absurd to +deny that it is not infinitely more agreeable to be accompanied by the +"tyrant" called "man"; but when there is no tyrant to come to lovely +woman's rescue, it is astonishing how well lovely woman can rescue +herself, if she exerts the brain and muscle, given her thousands of +years ago, and not entirely annihilated by long disuse. I have been +nowhere that I have not been treated with greater consideration than if +I had belonged to the other sex. There is not a country in Europe of +which this can be said; and if a nation's civilization is gauged--as the +wise declare--by its treatment of women, then America, rough as it may +be, badly dressed as it is, tobacco-chewing as it often is, stands +head, shoulders, and heart above all the rest of the world. The +Frenchwoman was right in declaring America to be _le paradis des dames_, +and those women who exalt European gallantry above American honesty are +as blind to their own interests as an owl at high noon. + +There is no royal railroad to lecturing. At best it is hard work, but +lecture committees "do their possible," as the Italians say, to lessen +the weight, and that "possible" is heartily appreciated by such of us as +inwardly long for a natural bridge between stations and hotels. A woman +is never so forlorn as when getting out of a car or entering a strange +hotel. + +However, there never was a rule without its exception, and though +courtesy has marked the majority of lecture committees for its own, a +lecturer may occasionally find himself stranded upon a desert of +indifference, and languish for the comforts of a home not twenty miles +distant. Thus it happened that once upon arriving at my destination when +the shades of evening were falling fast, and glancing about for the +customary smiling gentlemen who smooth out the rough places by carrying +bags, superintending the transportation of luggage, and driving you to +your abiding-place in the best carriage of the period, I found no +gentlemen, smiling or otherwise, to deliver me from my own ignorance. + +"Carriage, ma'am?" screamed a Jehu in top-boots ornamented with a +grotesque tracery of mud. + +Well, yes, I would take a carriage; so up I clambered and sat down upon +what in the darkness I supposed was a seat, but what gave such palpable +evidences of animation in howls and attempts at assault and battery, as +to prove its right to be called a boy. "An' sure the lady didn't mane to +hurt ye, Jimmy," expostulated something that turned out to be the boy's +mother, whereupon a baby and a small sister of the small boy sent forth +their voices in unison with that of their extinguished brother. + +"Driver, let me get out," I said pathetically. + +"Certainly, ma'am, but where will you go to? There ain't no other +carriage left." + +True; and I remained, and when I was asked where I wanted to stop, I +really did not know. Was there a hotel? Yes. Was there more than one +hotel? No. I breathed more freely, and said I would go to the hotel. + +The driver evidently entertained a poor opinion of my mental capacity, +for he mumbled to himself that "people who didn't know where they was +agoin' had nuff sight better stay at home," and deposited me at the +hotel with a caution against pickpockets. This was sufficiently +humiliating, yet were there lower depths. Entering the parlor, I found +it monopolized by a young lady in green silk and red ribbons, and a pink +young man with his hair parted in the middle and his shirt-bosom +resplendent with brilliants of the last water. They were at the piano, +singing "Days of Absence" in a manner calculated to depress the most +buoyant spirits. I rang the bell, and the green young lady and pink +young man began on the second verse. No answer. Again I rang the bell, +and the songsters began on the third verse. No answer. Once more I rang +the bell, and the green young lady and pink young man piped upon the +touching lay of "No one to love." Little cared those "two souls with +but a single thought, two hearts that beat as one," for the third heart +and soul, victim of misplaced confidence. Ring! I rang that bell until I +ached to be a man for one brief moment. Does a man ever endure such +torture? No. He puts on his hat, walks into the hotel office, gives +somebody a piece of his mind, and demands the satisfaction of a +gentleman. But a woman can go to no office. She must remain up stairs +and cultivate patience on hunger and thirst and a general mortification +of the senses. "Victory, or destruction to the bell!" I said at last, +and pulled the rope with the desperation of a maniac. + +"Did you ring?" asked a mild clerk, entering on the tips of his toes as +if there were not enough of him to warrant so extravagant an expenditure +as the use of his whole sole. Did I ring? I who had been doing nothing +else for half an hour! I who had but forty-five minutes in which to eat +my supper and dress for the lecture! + +Presenting my card, I desired the mild clerk to show me to my room. The +mild clerk was exceedingly sorry, but the committee had left no order, +and there was not a vacant room in the house! + +"What am I to do?" I asked in agony of spirit. "I _must_ have a room." + +_Must_ is an overpowering word. Only say _must_ with all the emphasis of +which it is capable, and longings are likely to be realized. + +Well, the mild clerk didn't know but as how he might turn out and let me +have _his_ room. + +Blessed man! Had I been pope, he should have been canonized on the spot. +Following him up several steep flights of stairs, lighted by a kerosene +lamp that perfumed the air as only kerosene can, I was at last ushered +into a room where sat a young girl knitting. She seemed to be no more +astonished at my appearance than were the chairs and table, merely +remarking, when we were left alone, "That's my father. I suppose you +won't have any objections to my staying here as long as I please." How +could I, an interloper, say "no" to the rightful proprietor of that +room? I smiled feebly, and the damsel pursued her knitting with her +fingers and me with her eyes, until everything in the room seemed to +turn into eyes. The frightful thought came o'er me that perhaps my +companion was "our own correspondent" for the "Daily Slasher!"--a +thought that sent my supper down the wrong way, deprived me of appetite, +and made me thankful that my back hair did not come off! The damsel sat +and sat, knitted and knitted, until she had superintended every +preparation, and then, like an Arab, silently stole away. + +What next? Why, the committee called for me at the appointed hour, +seemed blandly ignorant of the fact that they had not done their whole +duty to woman, and maintained that walking was much better than driving. +The wind blew, dust sought shelter within the recesses of eyes and ears +and nose, but patient Griselda could not have behaved better than I. In +fact, a woman who lectures must endure quietly what a singer or actress +would stoutly protest against, for the reason that lecturing brings down +upon her the taunt of being "strong-minded," and any assertion of rights +or exhibition of temper is sure to be misconstrued into violent hatred +of men and an insane desire to be President of the United States. This +can hardly be called logic, but it _is_ truth. Logic is an unknown +quantity in the ordinary public estimation of women lecturers. + +Inwardly cross and outwardly cold, I delivered my lecture, and went back +to that much-populated room, thinking that at least I should obtain a +few hours' sleep before starting off at "five o'clock in the +morning,"--a nice hour to sing about, but a horrible one at which to get +up. I approached the bed. Shade of that virtue which is next to +godliness! the linen was--was--yes, it was--second-hand! and calmly +reposing on a pillow of doubtful color, my startled vision beheld an + + "... ugly, creepin', blastit wonner, + Detested, shunn'd, by saunt an' sinner." + +That I should come to this! I sought for a bell. Alas, there was none! +Should I scream? No, that might bring out the fire-engines. Should I go +in search of the housekeeper? How to find her at that hour of the night? +No; rather than wander about a strange house in a strange place, I would +sit up. Of course there was a rocking-chair; in that I took refuge, and +there I sat with a quaint old-fashioned clock for company, with such +stout lungs as to render sleep an impossibility. No fairy godmother came +in at the key-hole to transform my chair into a couch and that talkative +clock into a handmaiden. No ghosts beguiled the weary hours. Eleven, +twelve, one, two, three, four! As the clock struck this last hour, a +porter pounded on the door, and, not long after, I was being driven +through the cold, dark morning to a railroad station. My Jehu was he of +the previous day, and a very nice fellow he turned out to be. "I didn't +know it was you yesterday, you see, miss, or I wouldn't have said +nothing about pickpockets. You don't look like a lecturer, you see, and +that's what's the matter." + +"Indeed, and how ought a lecturer to look?" + +"Well, I don't exactly know, but I always supposed they didn't look like +you. Reckon you don't enjoy staying around here in the dark, so I'll +just wait here till the train comes," and there that good creature +remained until the belated train snatched me up and whisked off to the +city. When the express agent passed through the car to take the +baggage-checks, it was as good as a play to see the different ways in +which people woke up. Some turned over and wouldn't wake up at all; +others sat bolt upright and blinked; some were very cross, and wondered +why they could not be let alone; others, again, rubbed their eyes, +scratched their heads, said "All right," and would have gone to sleep +again had not the agent shaken them into consciousness. + +"Where do you go?" asked the agent of a quiet old gentleman sitting +before me, who had previously given up his checks. + +"Yes, exactly; that's my name," replied the old gentleman. + +"Where do you go?" again asked the agent in a somewhat louder tone. + +"Exactly, I told you so." And the old gentleman put a pocket +handkerchief over his face as a preliminary to sleep. + +"Well, I never," exclaimed the agent, who returned to the charge. "I +asked you where you wanted to go?" + +"Precisely; that's my name." + +"Confound your name!" muttered the agent. "You're either deaf or insane, +and I guess you're deaf." So putting his mouth to the old gentleman's +ear, he shouted, "Where--do--you--want--to--go?" + +"O, really, the ---- House," was the mild answer to a question that so +startled everybody else as to cause one man to jump up and cry, "Fire!" +very much to the gratification of his fellow-passengers. There is +nothing more pleasing to human beings than to see somebody else make +himself ridiculous, and the amusement extracted from the contemplation +of that car-load of men and women almost compensated me for the previous +experience. + +I have since traveled in the far West, but have never looked upon the +counterpart of that New England hotel. + + + + +ROLLO LEARNING TO PLAY + +BY ROBERT J. BURDETTE + + +Early in the afternoon of the same day, Mr. Holliday came home bearing a +large package in his arms. Not only seldom, but rarely, did anything +come into the Holliday homestead that did not afford the head of the +family a text for sermonic instruction, if not, indeed, rational +discourse. Depositing the package upon a hall table, he called to his +son in a mandatory manner: + +"Rollo, come to me." + +Rollo approached, but started with reluctant steps. He became +reminiscently aware as he hastily reviewed the events of the day, that +in carrying out one or two measures for the good of the house, he had +laid himself open to an investigation by a strictly partisan committee, +and the possibility of such an inquiry, with its subsequent report, +grieved him. However, he hoped for the worst, so that in any event he +would not be disagreeably disappointed, and came running to his father, +calling "Yes, sir!" in his cheeriest tones. + +This is the correct form in which to meet any possible adversity which +is not yet in sight. Because, if it should not meet you, you are happy +anyhow, and if it should meet you, you have been happy before the +collision. See? + +"Now, Rollo," said his father, "you are too large and strong to be +spending your leisure time playing baby games with your little brother +Thanny. It is time for you to begin to be athletic." + +"What is athletic?" asked Rollo. + +"Well," replied his father, who was an alumnus (pronounced ahloomnoose) +himself, "in a general way it means to wear a pair of pantaloons either +eighteen inches too short or six inches too long for you, and stand +around and yell while other men do your playing for you. The reputation +for being an athlete may also be acquired by wearing a golf suit to +church, or carrying a tennis racket to your meals. However, as I was +about to say, I do not wish you to work all the time, like a woman, or +even a small part of the time, like a hired man. I wish you to adopt for +your recreation games of sport and pastime." + +Rollo interrupted his father to say that indeed he preferred games of +that description to games of toil and labor, but as he concluded, little +Thanny, who was sitting on the porch step with his book, suddenly read +aloud, in a staccato measure. + +"I-be-lieve-you-my-boy,-re-plied-the-man-heart-i-ly." + +"Read to yourself, Thanny," said his father kindly, "and do not speak +your syllables in that jerky manner." + +Thanny subsided into silence, after making two or three strange gurgling +noises in his throat, which Rollo, after several efforts, succeeded in +imitating quite well. Being older than Thanny, Rollo, of course, could +not invent so many new noises every day as his little brother. But he +could take Thanny's noises, they being unprotected by copyright, and not +only reproduce them, but even improve upon them. + +This shows the advantage of the higher education. "A little learning is +a dangerous thing." It is well for every boy to learn that dynamite is +an explosive of great power, after which it is still better for him to +learn of how great power. Then he will not hit a cartridge with a hammer +in order to find out, and when he dines in good society he can still +lift his pie gracefully in his hand, and will not be compelled to +harpoon it with an iron hook at the end of his fore-arm. + +Rollo's father looked at the two boys attentively as they swallowed +their noises, and then said: + +"Now, Rollo, there is no sense in learning to play a man's game with a +toy outfit. Here are the implements of a game which is called base-ball, +and which I am going to teach you to play." + +So saying he opened the package and handed Rollo a bat, a wagon tongue +terror that would knock the leather off a planet, and Rollo's eyes +danced as he balanced it and pronounced it a "la-la." + +"It is a bat," his father said sternly, "a base-ball bat." + +"Is that a base-ball bat?" exclaimed Rollo, innocently. + +"Yes, my son," replied his father, "and here is a protector for the +hand." + +Rollo took the large leather pillow and said: + +"That's an infielder." + +"It is a mitt," his father said, "and here is the ball." + +As Rollo took the ball in his hands he danced with glee. + +"That's a peach," he cried. + +"It is a base-ball," his father said, "that is what you play base-ball +with." + +"Is it?" exclaimed Rollo, inquiringly. + +"Now," said Mr. Holliday, as they went into the back yard, followed by +Thanny, "I will go to bat first, and I will let you pitch, so that I may +teach you how. I will stand here at the end of the barn, then when you +miss my bat with the ball, as you may sometimes do, for you do not yet +know how to pitch accurately, the barn will prevent the ball from going +too far." + +"That's the back-stop," said Rollo. + +"Do not try to be funny, my son," replied his father, "in this great +republic only a President of the United States is permitted to coin +phrases which nobody can understand. Now, observe me; when you are at +bat you stand in this manner." + +And Mr. Holliday assumed the attitude of a timid man who has just +stepped on the tail of a strange and irascible dog, and is holding his +legs so that the animal, if he can pull his tail out, can escape without +biting either of them. He then held the bat up before his face as though +he was carrying a banner. + +"Now, Rollo, you must pitch the ball directly toward the end of my bat. +Do not pitch too hard at first, or you will tire yourself out before we +begin." + +Rollo held the ball in his hands and gazed at it thoughtfully for a +moment; he turned and looked at the kitchen windows as though he had +half a mind to break one of them; then wheeling suddenly he sent the +ball whizzing through the air like a bullet. It passed so close to Mr. +Holliday's face that he dropped the bat and his grammar in his +nervousness and shouted: + +"Whata you throw nat? That's no way to pitch a ball! Pitch it as though +you were playing a gentleman's game; not as though you were trying to +kill a cat! Now, pitch it right here; right at this place on my bat. And +pitch more gently; the first thing you know you'll sprain your wrist and +have to go to bed. Now, try again." + +This time Rollo kneaded the ball gently, as though he suspected it had +been pulled before it was ripe. He made an offer as though he would +throw it to Thanny. Thanny made a rush back to an imaginary "first," and +Rollo, turning quickly, fired the ball in the general direction of Mr. +Holliday. It passed about ten feet to his right, but none the less he +made what Thanny called "a swipe" at it that turned him around three +times before he could steady himself. It then hit the end of the barn +with a resounding crash that made Cotton Mather, the horse, snort with +terror in his lonely stall. Thanny called out in nasal, sing-song tone: + +"Strike--one!" + +"Thanny," said his father, severely, "do not let me hear a repetition of +such language from you. If you wish to join our game, you may do so, if +you will play in a gentlemanly manner. But I will not permit the use of +slang about this house. Now, Rollo, that was better; much better. But +you must aim more accurately and pitch less violently. You will never +learn anything until you acquire it, unless you pay attention while +giving your mind to it. Now, play ball, as we say." + +This time Rollo stooped and rubbed the ball in the dirt until his father +sharply reprimanded him, saying, "You untidy boy; that ball will not be +fit to play with!" Then Rollo looked about him over the surrounding +country as though admiring the pleasant view, and with the same +startling abruptness as before, faced his father and shot the ball in so +swiftly that Thanny said he could see it smoke. It passed about six feet +to the left of the batsman, but Mr. Holliday, judging that it was coming +"dead for him," dodged, and the ball struck his high silk hat with a +boom like a drum, carrying it on to the "back-stop" in its wild career. + +"Take your base!" shouted Thanny, but suddenly checked himself, +remembering the new rules on the subject of his umpiring. + +"Rollo!" exclaimed his father, "why do you not follow my instructions +more carefully? That was a little better, but still the ball was badly +aimed. You must not stare around all over creation when you are playing +ball. How can you throw straight when you look at everything in the +world except at the bat you are trying to hit? You must aim right at the +bat--try to hit it--that's what the pitcher does. And Thanny, let me say +to you, and for the last time, that I will not permit the slang of the +slums to be used about this house. Now, Rollo, try again, and be more +careful and more deliberate." + +"Father," said Rollo, "did you ever play base-ball when you were a young +man?" + +"Did I play base-ball?" repeated his father, "did I play ball? Well, +say, I belonged to the Sacred Nine out in old Peoria, and I was a holy +terror on third, now I tell you. One day--" + +But just at this point in the history it occurred to Rollo to send the +ball over the plate. Mr. Holliday saw it coming; he shut both eyes and +dodged for his life, but the ball hit his bat and went spinning straight +up in the air. Thanny shouted "Foul!" ran under it, reached up, took it +out of the atmosphere, and cried: + +"Out!" + +"Thanny," said his father sternly, "another word and you shall go +straight to bed! If you do not improve in your habit of language I will +send you to the reform school. Now, Rollo," he continued, kindly, "that +was a great deal better; very much better. I hit that ball with almost +no difficulty. You are learning. But you will learn more rapidly if you +do not expend so much unnecessary strength in throwing the ball. Once +more, now, and gently; I do not wish you to injure your arm." + +Rollo leaned forward and tossed the ball toward his father very gently +indeed, much as his sister Mary would have done, only, of course, in a +more direct line. Mr. Holliday's eyes lit up with their old fire as he +saw the on-coming sphere. He swept his bat around his head in a fierce +semi-circle, caught the ball fair on the end of it, and sent it over +Rollo's head, crashing into the kitchen window amid a jingle of glass +and a crash of crockery, wild shrieks from the invisible maid servant +and delighted howls from Rollo and Thanny of "Good boy!" "You own the +town!" "All the way round!" + +Mr. Holliday was a man whose nervous organism was so sensitive that he +could not endure the lightest shock of excitement. The confusion and +general uproar distracted him. + +"Thanny!" he shouted, "go into the house! Go into the house and go right +to bed!" + +"Thanny," said Rollo, in a low tone, "you're suspended; that's what you +get for jollying the umpire." + +"Rollo," said his father, "I will not have you quarreling with Thanny. I +can correct him without your interference. And, besides, you have +wrought enough mischief for one day. Just see what you have done with +your careless throwing. You have broken the window, and I do not know +how many things on the kitchen table. You careless, inattentive boy. I +would do right if I should make you pay for all this damage out of your +own pocket-money. And I would, if you had any. I may do so, +nevertheless. And there is Jane, bathing her eye at the pump. You have +probably put it out by your wild pitching. If she dies, I will make you +wash the dishes until she returns. I thought all boys could throw +straight naturally without any training. You discourage me. Now come +here and take this bat, and I will show you how to pitch a ball without +breaking all the glass in the township. And see if you can learn to bat +any better than you can pitch." + +Rollo took the bat, poised himself lightly, and kept up a gentle +oscillation of the stick while he waited. + +"Hold it still!" yelled his father, whose nerves were sorely shaken. +"How can I pitch a ball to you when you keep flourishing that club like +an anarchist in procession. Hold it still, I tell you!" + +Rollo dropped the bat to an easy slant over his shoulder and looked +attentively at his father. The ball came in. Rollo caught it right on +the nose of the bat and sent it whizzing directly at the pitcher. Mr. +Holliday held his hands straight out before him and spread his fingers. + +"I've got her!" he shouted. + +And then the ball hit his hands, scattered them, and passed on against +his chest with a jolt that shook his system to its foundations. A +melancholy howl rent the air as he doubled up and tried to rub his chest +and knead all his fingers on both hands at the same time. + +"Rollo," he gasped, "you go to bed, too! Go to bed and stay there six +weeks. And when you get up, put on one of your sister's dresses and play +golf. You'll never learn to play ball if you practice a thousand years. +I never saw such a boy. You have probably broken my lung. And I do not +suppose I shall ever use my hands again. You can't play tiddle-de-winks. +Oh, dear; oh, dear!" + +Rollo sadly laid away the bat and the ball and went to bed, where he and +Thanny sparred with pillows until tea time, when they were bailed out of +prison by their mother. Mr. Holliday had recovered his good humor. His +fingers were multifariously bandaged and he smelled of arnica like a +drug store. But he was reminiscent and animated. He talked of the old +times and the old days, and of Peoria and Hinman's, as was his wont oft +as he felt boyish. + +"And town ball," he said, "good old town ball! There was no limit to the +number on a side. The ring was anywhere from three hundred feet to a +mile in circumference, according to whether we played on a vacant +Pingree lot or out on the open prairie. We tossed up a bat--wet or +dry--for first choice, and then chose the whole school on the sides. The +bat was a board, about the general shape of a Roman galley oar and not +quite so wide as a barn door. The ball was of solid India rubber; a +little fellow could hit it a hundred yards, and a big boy, with a +hickory club, could send it clear over the bluffs or across the lake. We +broke all the windows in the school-house the first day, and finished up +every pane of glass in the neighborhood before the season closed. The +side that got its innings first kept them until school was out or the +last boy died. Fun? Good game? Oh, boy of these golden days, paying +fifty cents an hour for the privilege of watching a lot of hired men do +your playing for you--it beat two-old-cat." + + +SPELL AND DEFINE: + +Instruction +Instantaneity +Liniment +Miscalculation +Pastime +Contusion +Paralysis +Hasty +Supererogation + + Can a boy learn anything without a teacher?--Does the pupil ever + know more than the instructor?--And why not?--How long does it + require one to learn to speak and write the Spanish language + correctly in six easy lessons, at home, without a master?--And in + how many lessons can one be taught to walk Spanish?--What is meant + by a "rooter"?--What is the difference between a "rooter" and a + "fan"?--Parse "hoodoo."--What is the philology of + "crank"?--Describe a closely contested game of "one-old-cat," with + diagrams.--What is meant by "a rank decision"?--Translate into + colloquial English the phrase, "Good eye Bill!"--Put into bleaching + board Latin, "Rotten umpire."--Why is he so called? + + + + +MR. HARE TRIES TO GET A WIFE + +BY ANNE VIRGINIA CULBERTSON + + +One day the children's mother told them that she was going to spend a +few days at a plantation some miles away, taking with her Aunt Nancy, +who was anxious to pay a little visit to a daughter living in that +neighborhood. Aunt 'Phrony, she told them, had promised to come and look +after them during her absence. + +"Oh, please, mamma," they begged, "let Aunt 'Phrony take us nutting? She +told us one day that she knew where there were just lots and lots of +walnuts." So it was arranged that they should take a luncheon with them +and make a day of it, Aunt 'Phrony being perfectly willing, for her +Indian blood showed itself not only in her appearance, but in her love +for a free out-of-door life, and her fondness for tramping. She would +readily give up a day's work at any time to discharge some wholly +insignificant errand which involved a walk of many miles. + +The day was a bright and beautiful one in October, warm, yet with a +faint nip of last night's frost lingering in the air. They made a fine +little procession through the woods, Aunt 'Phrony leading, followed by +children, a darky with baskets, her grandson "Wi'yum," and lastly the +dogs, frisking and frolicking and darting away every now and then in +pursuit of small game. A very weary and hungry little party gathered +about the baskets at one o'clock, and three little pairs of white hands +were stained almost as brown as those of Aunt 'Phrony and William. But +everybody was happy, and there was a nice pile of walnuts to go back in +the large bag which William had brought for the purpose. The dogs sat +around and looked longingly on, a squirrel frisked hastily across a log +near-by, the birds chattered in the trees high above and looked +curiously down on the intruders, and presently a foolish hare went +scurrying across the path, so near the dogs that they sat still, amazed +at his presumption, and forbore to chase him. + +"Hi! there goes 'ol' Hyar'!'" shouted Ned; "I'm going to see if I can't +catch him." But he soon gave up the hopeless chase. + +"Was that your 'ol' Hyar',' Aunt 'Phrony; your ol' Hyar' you tell us all +about?" asked little Kit. + +"Bless de chil'!" said she. "Naw, 'twuz de ol', ol' Hyar' I done tol' +you 'bout, de gre't-gre't-gre't-sump'n-ru'rr grandaddy er dis one, I +reckon." + +"Aunt 'Phrony," said Janey, "couldn't you tell us some more about the +old hare while we sit here and get rested?" + +"Now de laws-a-mussy," said 'Phrony, "ef we gwine 'mence on de ol' tales +I reckon I mought ez well mek up my min' ter spen' de res' er de day +right yer on dis spot," and she leaned back against a pine tree and +closed her eyes resignedly. Presently she opened them to ask, "Is I uver +tol' you 'bout de time Mistah Hyar' try ter git him a wife? I isn'? +Well, den, dat de one I gwine gin you dis trip. Hit happen dis-a-way: +Hyar' he bin flyin' all 'roun' de kyountry fer right long time, +frolickin' an' cuttin' up, jes' a no-kyount bachelder, an' las' he git +kind er tired uv hit, an' he see all tu'rr creeturs gittin' ma'ied an' +he tucken hit inter his haid dat 'twuz time he sottle down an' git him a +wife; so he primp hisse'f up an' slick his hya'r down wid b'argrease an' +stick a raid hank'cher in his ves'-pockit an' pick him a button-hole +f'um a lady's gyarden, an' den he go co'tin' dis gal an' dat gal an' +tu'rr gal. He 'mence wid de good-lookin' ones an' wind up wid de ugly +ones, but 'twan't nair' one dat 'ud lissen to 'im, 'kase he done done so +many mean tricks an' wuz sech a hyarum-skyarum dat dey wuz all 'feared +ter tek up wid 'im, an' so dey shet de do' in his face w'en he git ter +talkin' sparky, dough dar wan't no pusson cu'd do dat sort er talkin' +mo' slicker 'n w'at he cu'd. But he done gin de creeturs jes' li'l too +much 'havishness, so 'twan't no use. + +"He think de marter all over an' he say ter hisse'f: 'Dem fool gals +dunno w'at dey missin', but ef dey s'pose I gwine gin up an' stay +single, dey done fool derse'fs dis time. I ain' gwine squatulate wid 'em +ner argyfy ner beg no mo', but I gwine whu'l right in an' do sump'n.' + +"Atter he study a w'ile he slap one han' on his knee, an' he 'low, he +do: 'Dat's de ticket! dat's de ticket! I reckon dey'll fin' ol' man +Hyar' ain' sech a fool ez he looks ter be, atter all.' + +"He go lopin' all roun', leavin' wu'd at ev'y house in de kyountry dat a +big meetin' bin hilt an' a law passed dat ev'yb'dy gotter git ma'ied, +young an' ol', rich an' po', high an' low. He say ter hisse'f, +'_ev'yb'dy_, dat mean me, too, so dish yer whar I boun' ter git me a +wife.' + +"De creeturs place der 'pennance on him, dough he done tucken 'em in so +often, an' on de 'pinted day dey met toge'rr; de gals all dress' up in +der Sunday clo'es an' de mens fixed up mighty sprucy, an' sech a pickin' +an' choosin' you nuver see in all yo' bawn days. De gals dey all stan' +up in line an' de men go struttin' mighty biggitty up an' down befo' +'em, showin' off an' makin' manners an' sayin', 'Howdy, ladiz, howdy, +howdy!' An' de gals dey'd giggle an' twis' an' putt a finger in de +cornders er der moufs, an' w'en a man step up ter one uv 'em ter choose +her out, she'd fetch 'im a li'l tap an' say, 'Hysh! g'way f'um yer, man! +better lemme 'lone!' an' den she'd giggle an' snicker some mo', but I +let you know she wuz sho' ter go wid him in de een'. + +"All dis time Hyar' wuz gwine up an' down de line, bowin' an' scrapin' +an' tryin' ter mek hisse'f 'greeable ter ev'yb'dy, even de daddies an' +de mammies er de gals, whar wuz lookin' on f'um tu'rr side. Dar wuz whar +he miss hit, 'kase w'ile he wuz talkin' ter de mammy uv a mighty likely +li'l gal whar he think 'bout choosin', lo an' beholst, de choosin' wuz +all over, an' w'en Mistah Hyar' turnt roun' dar wan't nair' a gal lef', +an' ev'y man have a wife asseptin' him. + +"Den dey hilt a big darnsin' an' feastin', an' ev'yb'dy wuz happy an' in +a monst'ous good humor, de gals 'kase dey done wot ma'ied, an' de paws +an' de maws 'kase dey done got redd er de gals,--ev'yb'dy 'scusin' +Hyar'. Dey mek lots er game uv 'im, an' w'en dey darnse pas', dey sings +out: 'Heyo! Mistah Hyar', huccome you ain' darnse?' 'Bring yo' wife, ol' +man, an' jine in de fun!' 'Hi! yi! Mistar Hyar', you done ma'y off +ev'yb'dy else an' stay single yo'se'f? Well, dat de meanes' trick you +done played us yit! 'tain' fair!' An' dey snicker an' run on 'twel +Hyar' wish he ain' nuver year de wu'd ma'y. + +"Atter w'ile dey got tired er darnsin' an' tucken der new wifes an' went +off home leavin' Hyar' all by hisse'f, an' I tell you he feel right +lonesome. He git a bad spell er de low-downs an' go squanderin' roun' +thu de woods wid his years drapt an' his paws hangin' limp, studyin' how +he kin git revengemint. Las' he pull hisse'f toge'rr an' he say: 'Come, +Hyar', dis ain't gwine do. Is you done fool ev'yb'dy all dese 'ears an' +den let yo'se'f git fooled by a passel er gals? Naw, suh! I knows w'at I +gwine do dis ve'y minnit. Ef I kain't git me a gal, I kin git me a +widdy, an' some folks laks dem de bes', anyhows. Ef you ma'y a widdy, +she got some er de foolishness knock' outen her befo' you hatter tek her +in han'.' + +"Wid dat he step out ez gaily ez you please. He go an' knock at de do' +uv ev'y house, an' w'en de folks come ter de do' dey say, 'W'y, howdy, +Mistah Hyar', whar you bin keepin' yo'se'f all dis time?' He say, he do: +'Oh, I bin tendin' ter de 'fairs er de kyountry, an' I is sont unter you +ez a messenger. I is saw'y ter tell you dey done hilt nu'rr big meetin' +an' mek up der min's de worl' gittin' too many creeturs in hit, so dey +pass de law dat dar mus' be a big battle, an' you is all ter meet +toge'rr at de 'pinted time, an' each man mus' fall 'pun de man nex' him +an' try fer ter kill 'im.' + +"De creeturs assept dis wid submissity, dey ain' 'spicion Hyar' 't all. +On de 'pinted day dey met toge'rr, an' each wuz raidy ter defen' +hisse'f. Hyar' wuz dar lak all de res', an' ef you'd 'a seed all de +spears an' bows an' arrers he kyarry, an' all de knifes stickin' in his +belt, you'd 'a thought he wuz de bigges' fighter dar. But sho! W'en de +fightin' begin, hit wuz far'-you-well, gentermans! 'Twan't no Hyar' dar; +he jes' putt out tight 'z he kin go. W'en dey see him goin' dey sing +out: 'Hi, dar! Whar you gwine? Whyn't you stay wid we-all?' + +"Hyar' ain' stop ter talk, he jes' look roun' over his shoulder w'iles +he 'z runnin' an' he say, sezee: 'De man I wanster kill, he done runned +'way an' I'se atter him. Kain't stop to talk; git outen my way, +ev'yb'dy, + + _'Cle'r de track, fer yer me comin', + I'se ol' Buster whar keep things hummin'.'_ + +"W'en de battle wuz over, de creeturs miss Hyar', an' dey say he mus' be +'mongs' de kilt, so dey go roun' lookin' at de daid, but 'twan't no +Hyar' dar. Dey hunt ev'ywhar fer him an' las' dey foun' him squattin' in +de bresh, tremlin' ez ef he have de ager an' nigh mos' skeert ter de'f. +Dey drug him outen dat an' dey ses: 'So dish yer's Buster whar keep +things hummin'! Well, we gwine mek you hum dis time, sho' 'nuff. You +putts we-all ter fightin' an' gits heap er good men kilt off, an' yer +_you_ settin' tuck 'way safe in de bresh.' + +"Den ol' Hyar' he up an' 'fess he done de hull bizness so's't de +kyountry mought be full er widdies an' he git him his pick fer a wife, +fer he 'lowed widdies wan't gwine be so p'tickler ez de gals. De +creeturs jes' natchully hilt up der han's at him, dey wuz plumb outdone. +'De owdacious vilyun!' dey ses, 'we boun' ter exescoot him on de spot +an' git shed uv 'im onct fer all.' But he baig mighty hard an' some uv +'em think he be wuss punish ef dey jes' gins 'im a good hidin' an' lets +'im live on alone, a mis'able ol' bachelder, widout no pusson ter tek +notuss uv 'im, 'kase none er de widdies wuz gwine ma'y a cowerd." + +"Why, Aunt 'Phrony," said Ned, "he must have found a wife at last, for +how about Mis' Molly Hyar'?" + +"Shucks!" said she, "is _I_ uver tol' you 'bout Mis' Molly Hyar'? Naw, +suh, she b'longs in dem ol' nigger tales whar Nancy tells you. De Injun +tales ain' say nuttin' 'bout no wife er his'n. He wuz too gre't a +fighter an' too full er 'havishness uver ter sottle down wid a wife; an' +now lemme finish de tale. + +"Dey gin him a turr'ble trouncin' an' den turnt him aloose, an' stidder +gittin' him a wife he got him a hide dat smart f'um haid ter heels; but +w'en my daddy tell dat tale he useter een' her up dis-a-way, 'An' mebby +Hyar' git de bes' uv 'em, atter all, 'kase w'en you git a hidin', de +smart's soon over, but w'en you git a wife, de mis'ry done come ter +stay.'" + + + + +THE CO-OPERATIVE HOUSEKEEPERS[2] + +BY ELLIOTT FLOWER + + + Ten thoughtful women, ever wise, + A wondrous scheme did once devise + For ease, and to economize. + + "Cooeperation!" was their cry, + And not a husband dared deny + 'Twould life and labor simplify. + + One gardener, the ten decreed, + Was all the neighborhood would need + To plant and trim and rake and weed. + + The money saved they could invest + As vagrant fancy might suggest, + And each could then be better dressed. + + So well this worked that, on the whole, + It seemed to them extremely droll + To pay so much for handling coal. + + One man all work then undertook, + And former methods they forsook, + Deciding even on one cook. + + One dining-room was next in line, + Where, free from care, they all could dine + At less expense, as you'll divine. + + "Two maids," they said, "could quickly flit + From home to home, so why permit + Expense that brings no benefit?" + + Economy of cash and care + Became a hobby of the fair, + Until their husbands sought a share. + + "Although," the latter said, "all goes + For luxuries and costly clothes, + The method still advantage shows. + + "While we've not gained, we apprehend + Good Fortune will on us attend, + If we continue to the end. + + "If you've succeeded, why should we + From constant toil be never free? + One income should sufficient be; + + "And, taking turns in earning that, + We'll have the leisure to wax fat + And spend much time in idle chat. + + "So let us see the matter through, + And, in this line, it must be true + One house for all will surely do. + + "And if one house means less of strife, + To gain the comforts of this life, + Why, further progress means one wife." + + * * * * * + + Ten women now, their acts attest, + Prefer ten homes, and deem it best + To let cooeperation rest. + +[Footnote 2: Lippincott's Magazine.] + + + + +A COMMITTEE FROM KELLY'S + +BY J.V.Z. BELDEN + + +"Katherine--give it up, dear--" The man looked down into the earnest +eyes of the girl as she sat in the shadow of a palm in the conservatory +at the Morrison's. Strains of music from the ball-room fell on unheeding +ears and she sighed as she looked up at him. + +"I can not turn back now, Everett," she said. "Ever since that day I +spent down on the east side I have looked at life from a different +standpoint. A message came to me then and I must listen. For a year I +have been preparing myself to take my part in this work. To-morrow I +take possession of what is called a model flat, and I hope to teach +those poor little children something besides the _three R's_. To tell +them how to take a little sunshine into their dismal homes." She looked +like some fair saint with her face illumined with love of humanity. + +"Might I venture to suggest that there is plenty of room for sunshine in +an old house up the Avenue," said the man wistfully. + +The girl looked up quickly--"Don't, Everett, give me six months to see +what I can do--then I will answer the question you asked me last night." + +"Oh, my dear, my dear," he said, "you do not know how I hate to have you +go down there. My sympathy with the great unwashed is not deep enough +for me to be willing to have you mingle with them. Then, to be quite +honest, I have found them rather a happy lot." + +"Listen, Everett," said the girl. "Come down to me a month from to-night +and I will show you that I am right and you are wrong." + +"A _whole_ month!" the man protested. + +"Yes, a whole month--" + + * * * * * + +The sun was shining into the front windows of a room on the first floor +of a high tenement down on the east side. A snow-white bed stood far +enough from the wall to allow it to be made up with perfect ease. In +front of it stood a screen covered with pretty chintz; white muslin +curtains hung at the windows; everything was spotless from the +kalsomined ceiling to the oiled floors, where a few bright-colored rugs +made walking possible. As Katherine Anderson explained to some scoffing +friends who came down to take luncheon with her. + +"Everything is clean and in its proper place and the object-lesson is +invaluable to these poor children. If you go into their homes you will +find that the bed is a bundle of rags in some dark closet, while the +front room is kept for company. Here I show them how easily this sunny +room is made into a sitting-room by putting that screen in front of the +bed and then there is a healthful place to sleep. You may think that I +am over-enthusiastic, but I enjoy my classes and I assure you they are +_all day long_, for besides the usual schoolroom work we have cooking +classes, physical culture, nature classes and little talks about all +sorts of things. I have one girl who I know is going to be a great +novelist, she has such an imagination," said Katherine. "Her big sister +always has a duplicate of anything of mine the child happens to admire, +and the other day she came rushing in with the tale that 'burglars' had +broken into their house the night before and stolen twenty bottles of +ketchup and 'some _preserts_.'" + +"Had they?" asked the guest. "What peculiar taste in burglary!" + +"No," laughed Katherine; "she has no big sister and their house is one +back room four flights up." + +Four weeks had passed since the Morrison dinner, and Katherine was +tired. Then, too, she was not altogether sure that her mission was a +success. Was she wishing for the fleshpots of upper Fifth Avenue, or was +it just physical weariness that would pass with the night? She had sent +off a note in the morning: + + "MY DEAR EVERETT--The work of the model flat is still in existence, + and it is almost a month--a whole month. On Saturday afternoon I am + expecting some of the mothers to come and tell me what they think + of the work we are doing for their children. They will probably be + gone by five o'clock, and if you care to come down at that time I + might be induced to go out to dinner with you. Don't bother about a + chaperon. As I feel now, I could chaperon a chorus girl myself. + + "Cordially, + "KATHERINE." + +Whether the meeting at Mrs. Kelly's had been called together by engraved +cards, by postals, or simply by shrieking from one window to another, I +do not know, but there was evidently some excitement, some deep feeling +which needed expression among the little crowd of women in the fourth +floor, back. + +"I tell ye," shouted Mrs. Kelly, to make herself heard above the din of +many voices, "I tell ye we must organize, an' Tim Kelly himself says it. +Only last Satady night, an' him swearin' wid hunger, an' me faintin' wid +the big wash I had up the Avenoo, what did we come home to but hull +wheat bred an' ags olla Beckymell. There stood my Katy, wid her han's on +her hips, a-sayin' as 'teacher said' them things was nourishiner than +b'iled cabbage. Well, Tim was that mad he broke every plate on the table +an' then went and drank hisself stiff in Casey's saloon." + +"And what do ye think," cried Mrs. McGinniss, as Mrs. Kelly stopped for +breath, "the other night, when me an' some frinds was comin' in for a +quiet avenin', we found my Ellen Addy had hauled the bed into the front +room, an' she an' the young ones was all asleep, an' up to the winders +was my best petticut cut in two. When I waked her up she whined, +'Teacher says it ain't healthy to sleep in back.' Did ye ever hear the +like of that? an' every blessed one of them kids born there!" + +"Now, wha' d'ye think o' that?" murmured the crowd. + +Mrs. Kelly caught her breath and began again. "I've axed ye to come here +because teacher sent word that she'd like the mothers to come of a +Satady and tell her how they liked what she was doin' for the young +ones. Tim says as they sends a committee from men's meetings, and I +think if Mrs. McGinniss, Mrs. McGraw and me was to riprisint this +gatherin' we could tell her how we all feels." + +It was Saturday afternoon, and the model flat was in perfect order, +while the little servant, called "friend" by Miss Anderson, waited in +her spotless apron to answer the bell. Another object-lesson for the +mothers who were expected. The bell rang and three women walked soberly +into the little hall. + +"I am so glad to see you, Mrs. Kelly, and you, Mrs. McGinniss." She +hesitated at the third name. + +"'Tis Mrs. McGraw," said Mrs. Kelly. + +"Bring the tea, Louisa," said Miss Anderson, "and then I want to show +you how pleasant my home is here." + +Mrs. Kelly gave a sniff. "Hum, yessum, it's sunny, but I've seen your +home up town, and it's beyond the likes of me to see why you're down +here at all, at all." + +"Yes," said Mrs. McGinniss, "an' I've come to say that you'd better stay +up there an' stop teachin' my childer about their insides. I'm tired of +hearin' 'I can't eat this an' I can't eat that, cause teacher says there +ain't no food walue.' An' there's Mrs. Polinski, down the street, says +she'll have no more foolishness." + +Mrs. Kelly had caught her breath again. "Her Rebecca come home only +yestidy an' cut all the stitches in Ikey's clo'es, an' him sewed up for +the winter." + +Just then a woman with a shawl over her head came in without knocking. +With a nod to the three women, she faced the teacher. "Now, I'd like to +know one thing," she said; "you sent my Josie home this morning to wash +the patchouly offen her hair; now, I want to know just one thing--does +she come here to be smelt or to be learnt?" + +"There's another thing, too," said Mrs. Kelly; "I want that physical +torture business stopped. The young ones are tearin' all their clo'es +off, an' it's _got to be stopped_!" + +Katherine looked a little dazed and her voice trembled a bit as she +said: "Wouldn't you like to look at the flat?" + +"No, Miss, we wouldn't," said Mrs. Kelly. "You're a nice young woman, +and you don't mean no harm, but it's the sinse av the committee that +you're buttin' in. Good day to ye." And they filed slowly out. + +Katherine, with cheeks aflame, turned toward the door. There was a +twinkle in Landon's eyes as he said: + +"Are you quite ready for dinner, dear?" + +There was a little break in her voice, and she gave him both her hands. + +"Quite ready for--for anything, Everett." + + + + +QUIT YO' WORRYIN' + +BY ANNE VIRGINIA CULBERTSON + + + Nigger nuver worry,-- + Too much sense fer dat, + Let de white folks scurry + Roun' an' lose dey fat, + Nigger gwine be happy, nuver-min'-you whar he at. + + Nigger jes' kain't worry,-- + Set him down an' try, + No use, honey, fer he + Sho' ter close he eye, + Git so pow'ful sleepy dat he pass he troubles by. + + Cur'ous, now, dis trouble + Older dat hit grown, + 'Stid er gittin' double, + Dwinnle ter de bone; + Nigger know dat, so dat why he lef' he troubles 'lone. + + Nigger nuver hurry, + Dem w'at wants ter may; + Hurry hit mek worry! + Now you year me say + Ain' gwine hurry down de road ter meet ol' Def half-way! + + Den quit yo' hurryin', + Quit yo' worryin'! + W'at de use uv all dis scurryin'? + Mek ol' Time go sof' an' slow, + Tell him you doan' want no mo' + Dish yer uverlastin' flurryin',-- + Jes' a trick er his fer hurryin' + Folks de faster to'des dey burryin'! + + + + +HER "ANGEL" FATHER[3] + +BY ELLIOTT FLOWER + + + "My Papa is an angel now," + The little maiden said. + We noted her untroubled brow, + Her gayly nodding head, + And then, of course, we wondered how + She could have been misled. + + We felt that she was wrong, and yet + We spoke in accents low, + For life with perils is beset, + And friends oft quickly go. + But she was right; he'd gone in debt + To "back" a burlesque show. + +[Footnote 3: Lippincott's Magazine.] + + + + +ESPECIALLY MEN + +BY GEORGE RANDOLPH CHESTER + + +The tantalizing stream on the other side of the hedge seemed, to the hot +and tired young man, to lead the way straight into the heart of Paradise +itself. Six weary miles of white highway, wavering with heat and misty +with hovering dust clouds, still lay between himself and the railroad +that would whisk him away to the city. Behind him, conquered at +fatiguing cost, were six more miles, stretching back to the village +where not even a team could be hired on Sunday. Rather than spend the +day in that dismal abode of Puritanism he had fled on foot, his business +done, and this little creek, mocking, alluring, irresistible, was the +only cheerful thing on which his eyes had rested in that whole stifling +journey. + +Even this had a drawback. He glanced up again, with a puzzled frown, at +the queer sign glaring down at him from the hedge. It was the third one +of the sort in the past quarter of a mile: + + _TRESPASSERS_ + + _Are warned from these premises + under penalty of the law_ + + _ESPECIALLY MEN_ + +He turned away impatiently. Dust, dust, dust! He could feel it pasty on +his tongue, gritty on his lips, grimy on his face. It had stiffened his +hair, clogged his nostrils, sifted through his clothing, settled into +his shoes. It was everywhere and all-pervading. + +The forbidden creek, in the very refinement of derision, suddenly +bubbled into a bar of clinking song--a perfect ecstasy of crystal +notes--then as suddenly died down, babbling and gurgling, and flowed +smoothly on, whispering and murmuring to itself of the delights to come +in the heart of the cool woods. Just here, with a swift sweep between +mossy, curved banks, the stream turned its back to him and hurried away +among the trees with a coy invitation that was well-nigh maddening. He +remembered just such a creek as that where, as a boy, he had used to go +with his companions after school. + +How delightful those boyish swims had been! In fancy he could still feel +the chill shock as he had plunged in, the sharp catching of his breath, +the resounding splash, the shower of icy drops, the soft yielding of the +water--then the delicious buoyancy that had pervaded his limbs. He +wondered, with a whimsical smile, how long he could "stay under," and if +he could hold his eyes open while he dived, and if he could still swim +"dog fashion" and back-handed on his back, and if he could float and +tread water and "turtle." + +How cool and shady and restful it looked in there! Just before the creek +turned behind a clump of dogwood, a patch of sunlight lay on it, +shooting down through the misty twilight of broad oak trees, and the +surface of the water dimpled and glinted and laughed and flirted at him, +before it slipped away into leaf-dimmed sylvan solitudes, in a way that +was not to be longer resisted. He gave one more glance of distaste at +the white hot road and gave up the struggle. + +"Here goes the 'especial man,'" he said, looking up at the sign in +smiling defiance, and forced his way through the hedge. + +What a coquettish little stream that was! It leaped merrily down tiny, +boulder-strewn inclines to show him how light-hearted and care-free it +could be; it flowed sedately between narrow banks of turf to display its +perfect propriety; it coyly hid behind walls of graceful, slender +willows; it danced impudently into the open and dashed across clear +spaces in frantic haste to escape him; it spread out, clear and limpid, +upon little bars of golden sand, pretending frankly to reveal its pure, +inmost depths; then raced on again, ever beckoning, ever enticing, ever +cajoling, until at last it plunged straight at a wall of dense, tangled +underbrush, and, with a vixenish gurgle of delight at its own +blandishing duplicity, vanished underneath the low sweeping mass of +leaves without even so much as a good-by! + +The pursuer was not to be daunted. Doggedly he fought his way around and +through the swampy underbrush and presently stood blinking his delighted +eyes in a little natural clearing that was a glorious climax to all the +tantalizing coquetry of the creek. Encircled by drooping, long-leaved +willows that were themselves enringed by stately trees, lay a broad, +deep pool, clear as crystal, one side carpeted with velvety turf and +screened with leafy draperies, and the whole canopied by the smiling +blue sky. With a cry of pleasure the young man hastily threw off his +clothing, and, as he undressed, a school-boy taunt whimsically recurred +to him. + +"Last one in's a nigger!" he shouted to the squirrel that he caught +peering at him from the far side of a limb, and plunged into the pool. + +One by one he gleefully tried all the old boyish tricks until at last, +tiring of them, he lay floating peacefully on his back, looking up at +the sky and covering the entire visible surface of it with air castles, +as young men will. There was no dusty road, no broiling hot sun, no six +miles of weary distance yet to cover. + +There was a rustle and a patter among the trees. Two dogs came bounding +to the edge of the water and barked at the bather in friendly fashion. +They were bouncing big St. Bernards, but scarcely more than puppies, and +they capered and danced in awkward delight when he splashed water at +them. As a further evidence of their friendly feeling they suddenly +pounced upon his clothing. + +"Hey there!" cried the bather, and scrambled out to rescue his apparel. +It was kind of him, the dogs thought, to take so much interest in the +game, and, not to be outdone in heartiness, they scampered off through +the woods, taking the clothes with them. All they left behind was his +hat, his shoes and one sock, his collar and cuffs and tie. He threw +sticks and stones after them and had started to chase them when a new +and dreadful sound smote on his ear. It was the voices of women! + +There was but one safe hiding-place--the pool. With rare presence of +mind he concealed the pathetic remnant of his belongings and plunged +just in time, diving under a clump of low-hanging willows where a +friendly root gave support to his arms and breast. + +Two elderly ladies of severe and forbidding aspect came slowly within +his range of vision. One was tall and thin and the other was short and +thin, while both wore plain, skimp, black gowns and had their hair +parted in the center and smoothed down flatly over their ears. They were +silent with some vexed and weighty problem as they drew near, but, as +they came just opposite to him, the taller of the two suddenly burst out +with: + +"Men, men, men! Nothing but men, morning, noon and night. Please +explain, Sister Ann! Where did Adnah, during my brief absence, get her +sudden curiosity about the despicable sex?" + +"It was the recent visit of Doctor Laura Phelps, Sister Sarah," meekly +replied the smaller woman. "She lost a magazine while here and Adnah +found it. The publication contained several love stories, so-called, an +illustrated article on 'Young Captains of Industry' and another on +'Handsome Young Men of the Stage.' I burned the pernicious thing as soon +as it came into my hands, but, alas, the damage had been done!" + +"Damage, indeed, Sister Ann!" snapped the other. "Since the age of five, +poor Sister Jane's orphan has never been permitted to see a man. Big +country girls have even been hired to do our farm work. And this, _this_ +is the end of fourteen years of self-sacrificing care!" + +The young man in the pool cautiously ducked his head under the water. A +mosquito had settled back of his ear and was driving him mad. + +"Dreadful!" moaned Sister Ann. "Adnah goes about sighing all the day, +and looks over-long in the mirror, and takes unseemly pains with her +dressing, and does up her hair with flowers, and has feverishly pink +cheeks, and likes to sit in a corner and brood, and takes long walks by +herself, and especially, _especially_, seems fond of moonlight!" + +A snake slid down off the bushes into the water near the young man and +he "wanted out," but he stayed. + +"Moonlight!" sniffed Sarah. "Moonlight!" There is no language to express +the disdain with which she spoke this word of philandering and +frivolity. + +"Moonlight is very pretty," ventured the other. "I rather like it +myself." + +"At _your_ time of life!" retorted Sister Sarah. "You are too +sentimental, Sister Ann, as well as too careless." + +Thank Heaven they were going! The young man waited until their voices +died in the distance, then crept cautiously to the bank. He had to find +those dogs, and in a hurry. He had just seated himself to put on his +shoes for the search, when he again heard the voices of women and once +more plunged into the pool, like a monster yellow frog, as he reflected +he must seem to the squirrel in the tree. + +"But, Aunt Matilda, how do you know?" he heard as he came up under the +willows. This new voice, sweet and limpid, belonged to a girl of such +striking appearance that the young man was on the point of forgetting +his dilemma--until that infernal mosquito settled down back of his ear +again! + +"My dear Adnah," said a jerky little voice in answer, "your aunts, +remember, were all young once, and considered great beauties in their +day." There was a world of gentle pride in Aunt Matilda's voice as she +said this, and it sounded so well that she said it over again. "Great +beauties in their day! In consequence they all had their experiences +with men, and know that there is not one to be trusted. Not one, my +child, not one! Believe your aunts." + +"It seems impossible, aunty," declared the soft voice of Adnah. "Why, in +that magazine were the pictures of some of the most noble-looking +creatures--" + +"Tut, tut, child, those are the very worst kind," hastily interrupted +Aunt Matilda. "The more handsome they are, the more dangerous. Since you +remain so incredulous, however, I suppose I shall have to tell you what +we know about them." + +The young man in the pool felt his circulation stopping. The two women +were calmly sitting down on the bank to talk confidences, and from what +he knew of the sex they were as likely as not to sit there until +doomsday, compelling him to appear before the angel Gabriel without even +a shroud. He was conscious of the beginning of a cramp in his left leg +and his shoulders were becoming icy. He had to be motionless, too, and +that was another hardship. The least movement might betray him, for the +women sat quite near, and Adnah was facing him. Thanks to the thickness +of his leafy hiding-place she could not see him, but he could see her +quite plainly, and she was well worth looking at. She, too, wore a +plain, skimp, black dress, and her brown hair was parted in the center +and smoothed down over her ears, but there the resemblance to Aunt +Matilda and the others ended, for her hair was wavy in spite of the +severely straight brushing, and it glinted gold where little flecks of +sunlight filtered through the branches of the tall trees to caress it. +In the hair, too, was a single red rose, caught into place with a +natural grace that it seemed a pity to waste on three spinster aunts and +two dogs, and the same note of color was repeated in another rebellious +blossom at the throat. The young face was plump and oval, and the cheeks +were pink, the brown eyes were wide and sparkling and--Oh, well, the +young man in the pool stopped cataloguing her attractions and simply +summed her up as a stunningly pretty girl. Then he tried once more to +get rid of that maddening mosquito and wished to high Heaven that they +would go! + +"When our dear mother died we four girls were all quite young," began +Aunt Matilda, pausing primly to smooth down her skirts, and the young +man in the watery prison gave up in despair. She was starting out like +the old-fashioned story books, which never arrived any place, and never +knew how to get back if they did. "Your Aunt Sarah was eighteen years +old, your Aunt Ann and myself sixteen, and your poor, deluded mother +fourteen. Our father, child, married again within the year, and so you +see our acquaintance with the duplicity of men began at a very early +age. Of course, we refused to live with a stepmother or to allow her to +occupy our own dear mother's house. Left, then, upon our own +responsibilities at so tender a period of our lives, it behooved us to +conduct ourselves with the strictest of propriety, and I am most happy +to say that we came triumphantly through the ordeal. Naturally, we being +great beauties in those days, my child, great beauties, many gay young +men fluttered about us, and some of them really made quite favorable +impressions upon us. There was one in particular--" + +Aunt Matilda paused for a sigh and fixed her eyes in sad reminiscence +upon a little clump of ferns that, full of conceit, were waving +incessant salutes at their dainty reflections in the water. + +"Hang the story of her life!" muttered the miserable youth in the pool. +His teeth were beginning to chatter. + +"Do go on, aunty!" cried the eager Adnah. + +"Well, child, they were all alike. Having insinuated their way into our +confidences by agreeable manners and by their really indisputable +attractiveness, having aroused the beginnings of tender emotions, what +did these young men do, one and all? Why, instead of waiting until the +acquaintance had ripened into mutual undying affection and then falling +gracefully to their knees with honorable proposals of marriage, they one +and all chose what seemed to be favorable moments and strove, by +cajolery or stealth or even force, to kiss us. To _kiss_ us!" + +"Gracious!" exclaimed Adnah. + +There was a moment's silence. The young man in the pool could feel the +goose-flesh pimpling between his shoulder blades. + +"After all, though, it might not have been so very dreadful," finally +commented Adnah, after a thoughtful sigh. + +"Adnah!" cried the horrified Aunt Matilda. "I am astounded!" + +"I can't help it, aunty," said Adnah. "I can't make it seem so terrible, +no matter how hard I try. In fact it--it seems to me that it would have +been--well--rather nice." + +"Adnah!" + +"But, aunty, didn't it ever seem that way to you, sometimes?" + +Aunt Matilda was shocked and silent for a moment, then over her pale +cheeks crept a pink flush. + +"I'll not deny," she presently confessed in a hesitant voice, "that if +we had not had each other to rely upon for firmness we might perhaps +have been deluded by some of these young scapegraces. They were truly +quite appealing at times. There was one in particular--" + +Again Aunt Matilda became lost in meditation. The young man in the pool +swore softly, even though he perceived the tear that trembled upon the +lady's eyelash. It was impossible to be sympathetic while a leech was +fastened to his ankle. + +"My mother must have thought the way I do, I am sure," persisted Adnah. +The remark brought Aunt Matilda out of the past with a jerk. + +"Your poor mother had the most pitiful experience of all, child," she +replied. "She married. Shortly after you were born, she died, +fortunately spared all knowledge of your father's faithless fickleness. +Adnah, he, too, married again! You, Adnah, was too young to protect +yourself from a stepmother, but we came to your rescue. Your great +uncle, Peter, had just died and left us this fine estate, and here we +are, trying to shield you from the wiles of the destroyer, man!" + +"Some men must be nice, or so many, many girls would not want them," +commented Adnah, still unconvinced. + +"I'll not deny, dear, that some of them _seem_ quite nice," admitted the +other with a sigh. "There was one in particular--" + +The dogs interrupted at this moment with a racing struggle for some red +and brown object. + +"_Now_ what has Castor got?" cried Adnah, jumping up to give chase in a +healthy and delightful burst of speed. + +The youth in the pool dismally realized that Castor had his missing +sock, a brown lisle affair with a quaint red pattern in it, at a dollar +a pair. His teeth were pounding together like castanets, now, so loudly +that he feared Aunt Matilda must surely hear them. Adnah presently +returned, flushed rosy red by the exercise and more charming than ever. + +"I couldn't catch them," she panted. "Gracious, but I am warm! There is +plenty of time for a plunge before dinner. Just wait, Aunt Mattie, until +I run for the bathing suits," and she flashed away again. + +Great Caesar's ghost! The hidden youth grew so warm with apprehension +that the goose-flesh disappeared and the chattering of his teeth +stopped. His dilemma was unspeakable and unsolvable, seemingly, but +suddenly it was solved for him. The dogs came back! + +The sock had been shredded and they sought fresh diversion. After a +cordially barked invitation for the young man to come out and play, they +went in after him. There was a tremendous splashing struggle. Suddenly +the willows were pulled down by a muscular bare arm, and the face of a +young man appeared above it to the astounded gaze of Aunt Matilda. + +"Excuse me, madam," he began, lunging viciously at Castor and Pollux +with his feet. "Please call off your dogs." + +Aunt Matilda, pale but determined, whipped an antiquated monster of a +pistol from her pocket, though she held it far off from her and to one +side, with no intention, past, present or future, of ever firing it. It +got its effectiveness from size alone, and was built for pure moral +suasion if ever a pistol was. + +"Hold perfectly still or I shall shoot," she quaveringly warned him. +"You are a male trespasser, sir!" + +"I sincerely regret it, madam," replied the culprit, slapping viciously +at the mosquito behind his ear. He got it that time. + +"You probably will," freezingly retorted Aunt Matilda. "I shall +telephone for the sheriff immediately, and if you are still here when he +arrives you shall receive the full penalty of the law." + +The young man did some quick thinking. It was necessary. + +"Madam, your dogs have stolen my clothing and my money, and I can not +leave until I get them back," he presently declared with lucky +inspiration. "If you have me arrested for trespass I shall bring suit +for the recovery of property." + +Aunt Matilda was sufficiently perplexed to lower her pistol and allow +him to explain, while she coaxed the dogs out of the water. He was a +splendid talker, and had fine, honest-looking blue eyes. + +There was a rush of swift footsteps among the trees. + +"Hide!" she commanded in sudden panic. + +He promptly hid, and when Adnah arrived with the bathing suits, that +young lady found her aunt calmly seated on the ground, holding Castor +and Pollux each by a dripping collar. + +"Leave my suit and return to the house at once with these dogs," +directed Aunt Matilda without turning her head. + +"Why, Aunt Mattie, what's the matter?" + +"Nothing!" snapped Aunt Matilda in desperation. "Go back to the house +and stay until I come. Ask no questions." + +Adnah searched the scene in mystification for a moment. + +"Yes, aunty," she suddenly said, and walked away in a flutter of +excitement. She had caught the gleam of a bright eye peering at her from +among the willows! + +She burst into a spontaneous rhapsody of song as she went, trilling and +warbling in sweet, untaught cadences, unconsciously like a bird singing +to its mate in the springtime. She had a wonderful voice. The young man +was sorry when she was out of hearing, but glad, too, for the water was +beginning to pucker his cuticle in hard ridges like a wash-board. + +"Now, young man," said Aunt Matilda, "I shall leave this bathing suit +here for your use. I shall expect you to put it on and retire from the +premises as quickly as possible." + +"I must remain until nightfall," was the firm reply. "I must find my +money and clothes. I should feel ridiculous to be seen in such clothing +as that. You, yourself, would scarcely care to have me seen emerging +from your premises, on Sunday especially, in such outlandish garments." + +That last argument told. Aunt Matilda visibly weakened. + +"Very well, then," she grudgingly agreed, "but at dusk--Mercy, young +man, how your teeth do chatter! Are you getting a chill? I'll bring you +a bowl of boneset tea and some dinner right away!" and she hurried off +in much concern. + +The young man lost no time in getting into that bathing suit, for the +chill of the water was upon him. The suit consisted merely of a pair of +blue bloomers that came just below his knees, and a blue blouse that +split down the back and at the armpits the moment he buttoned it in +front; still he was very grateful for it--grateful for the warm glow +that began to pervade him the moment he had donned it. He put on his one +sock and his shoes, his hat, collar, tie and cuffs to keep the dogs from +getting them, and was quite comfortable when Aunt Matilda came bustling +back with a bowl of steaming tea and a tray loaded with good things to +eat. + +She sat by admiring his appetite until he had finished, then she made +him drink the boneset tea to the last drop. He talked admirably all +through the "dinner," and it was with a sigh of almost regret that she +started away with the empty dishes. She came back presently. + +"You will find our summer cottage up in that direction," she pointed +out. "We shall expect you to--to keep out of range during the day, but +to report at the kitchen door at dusk, when you will be escorted to the +road." + +"I shall follow your instructions to the letter," he assured her, and +she again slowly walked away. To save her, the man-hater could not think +of another reasonable excuse for prolonging the interview. He was a most +gentlemanly young man, and he had splendid eyes! + +The male trespasser spent the next hour in hunting clothes and +anathematizing dogs. His finds were confined strictly to rags and +pairless arms and sleeves, and finally he gave up, with everything +accounted for but worthless. Discovering a high, grassy plot near the +creek, screened from the woods by a thick copse of hazel bushes, he lay +down to think matters over and promptly fell asleep. + +Perhaps half an hour later he slowly opened his eyes with the feeling +that he was being compelled to awaken, and found Adnah seated quietly +beside him, keeping the mosquitoes away from him with a gracefully waved +hazel branch. + +"Just sleep right on," she gently urged. "I often sleep for hours on hot +afternoons in this very place." + +"How did you come here?" he demanded, sitting up, startled. + +"I hunted you," she confessed with a delighted little laugh. "I'm so +glad you're awake at last and don't want to sleep any more. I felt just +sure that your eyes were blue. And they are!" + +Her delight at this fact was so obvious that he felt uneasy. + +"You see, I listened outside the window while Aunt Mattie told Aunts Ann +and Sarah all about you," she confidingly went on. "Aunt Sarah and Aunt +Ann were for telephoning for the sheriff anyhow, but Aunt Mattie +wouldn't let them. She likes you. So do I." + +"Oh!" said the astonished young man. For the first time in his life +conversation had failed him. + +"Of course," said the girl simply. "Well, I waited until they all lay +down for their after-dinner naps, and climbed out of my window so as not +to disturb them. They do enjoy their naps so much, you know. I didn't +find you at the pool but I just hunted until I did find you. I've been +sitting here a long time watching you. You look so nice when you are +asleep." + +_Now_ what should he say? With any ordinary girl he could have found +the answer, but this one had him floored. + +"But you look ever so much nicer when you are awake," she further +informed him, with a clear-eyed straightforwardness that was worse than +disconcerting. In desperation he answered, with her own frankness, that +she was nice looking herself. He meant it, too. + +"I'm so glad you think so," she contentedly sighed. "I just knew we +should like each other as soon as I saw you lying there asleep." + +It was he who blushed, not the girl. + +She partly raised up to recapture her hazel branch, and when she sat +down again her shoulder remained lightly touching his arm. An electric +thrill ran through him and tingled out at his fingertips, but he never +moved a muscle. She looked up at him in peaceful happiness and he +somehow felt very mean and unworthy. Her eyes made him uncomfortable. +The whole trouble was that she was so honest--had never been taught to +conceal her thoughts by the thousand and one spoken and unspoken lies of +ordinary social intercourse. She was neither timid nor bold, but merely +natural, with never a suspicion that conventionality demanded a man and +a maid to leave a mutual liking unconfessed. It was rather rough on the +young man. He was not used to having the truth fly around in such +reckless fashion in his conversations with girls, and it bothered him. + +"I'm not a bit afraid of you," she presently told him. "I knew all the +time that Aunt Mattie was wrong. She told me that all men were dreadful, +and that the first thing they did was to--to kiss a girl they liked." + +"She knows nothing about it," he replied rather crossly. For some +unaccountable reason he was angry with himself and with her. + +"Indeed, she doesn't," she agreed, eying him thoughtfully. Presently she +added: "I do not believe, though, that I should have minded it so much +if she had been right." + +Shade of Plato! He looked down at the tempting curve of her red lips. +They were round and full and soft as the petals of a half-blown rosebud, +warm and tender and sweet, with just the least trace of puckering to +indicate how they could meet the pressure of other lips. He felt his +heart come pounding up into the region of his Adam's apple, and he +trembled as he had not done since his first attack of puppy love at the +age of fourteen. His breath came and went with a painful flutter but he +made no movement. If it had been any sort of a girl under the sun, +especially if so attractive as this one, she would have been kissed +until she gasped for breath; but he just couldn't do it. However, if she +went so far as to _ask_ him to kiss her, _by George_! he didn't see how +he was to get out of it! + +"I should really like to kiss you," he admitted with a martyr-like sigh +and a further echo of her own frankness, "but I shan't. Under the +circumstances it would not be right." + +He reflected, grinning, that mother would be proud if she could see him +now, then he thought, grinning harder, of the boys at the club. If +_they_ only knew! + +"There, didn't I say so!" she triumphantly exclaimed. "I told Aunt +Matilda that there certainly must be _some_ good men in the world!" + +Good! He winced as certain memories of his careless youth began to do +cake-walks up and down his conscience. Then he changed the subject. + +She snuggled up closely to him, by and by, confidingly and unsuspicious, +and just talked and talked and talked. It was very pleasant to have her +there at his side, babbling innocently away in that sweet, musical +voice. How pretty she was, how artless and trusting, how honest and how +heart-whole! It came to him that his family and friends had for a long +time been telling him that he ought to get married, and he began to see +that they were right. + +How delightful it would be to stay on forever in this enchanted grove +with her. He presently found himself fervently saying it, though he had +not intended such words to pass his lips. She took the wish as a matter +of course. She had confidently expected him to feel that way about it, +and, if he felt that way, to say so. + +"Adnah Eggleson!" + +They jumped like juvenile jam-thieves caught red-handed. + +Aunt Sarah and Aunt Ann and Aunt Matilda rigidly confronted them, having +stolen upon them unseen, unheard, unthought of, and they stood now in +grim horror, merciless and implacable. They advanced in a swooping body, +after one moment of agonizing suspense, and snatched Adnah into their +midst, glaring three kinds of loathing scorn upon the interloping +serpent. + +"Has this person _kissed_ you, or attempted to do so?" hissed Aunt +Sarah. + +"Not yet," meekly answered poor Adnah. + +"I assure you ladies--," began the serpent, but Aunt Sarah cut him +short. + +"Silence, sir!" she commanded. "We wish no explanations from you, +whatsoever." + +Thus crushing him, the little company wheeled and marched away, bearing +Adnah an unwilling and impenitent captive, two of them ingeniously +keeping behind her so that she should have no opportunity of even +exchanging a backward glance with the serpent. + +Left to himself the serpent moodily kicked holes in the turf. He had an +intense desire to do something violent--to smash something, no matter +what. He was furious with the trio of aunts. It was a shame, he told +himself, to bury alive a beautiful and noble young woman like that, +through a warped and mistaken notion of the world. What right had they +to condemn a sweet and affectionate creature such as she to a starved +and morbid spinsterhood? It was his duty to rescue her from the +colorless fate that hung over her, and he would do his duty. He was +unconsciously flexing his biceps as he said it. + +Would he? How? Should he get out a search warrant or a writ of replevin? +This whimsical view of the case only exasperated him the more as it +presented the utter hopelessness of approaching her--of ever seeing her +again--and, when the dogs came chasing an utterly inconsequential and +useless butterfly in his direction, he pelted them with stones until +they yelped. Hang the dogs, anyhow. It was all their fault! + +Next he blamed himself. If he had only resisted that creek like a man he +wouldn't have been a hundred miles from home without clothes or money, +and silly about a girl he had never seen until that day. + +Then he blamed the girl. Why, _why_ was she such a confiding and +altogether artless and bewitching little fool? She wasn't! He remembered +her eyes and abjectly apologized to the memory of her. She was +everything that was sweet and pure and womanly--everything that was +desirable in every sense--well-bred, well-schooled, unspoiled of the +world, without guile or subterfuge, beautiful, healthy, honest. That had +been the only startling thing about her--just honesty. It spoke ill for +himself and the world in which he lived that this should have seemed +startling! What a wonderful creature she was! By the Eternal, she +belonged to him and he meant to have her! She loved him, too! + +He sat down on the bank to think over this phase of the question. He had +known her several years in the minute and a half since noon, and it was +time this foolishness came to an end. + +Time flies when youth listens to the fancied strains of Mendelssohn's +Spring Song. He was surprised, presently, to note a strange hush +settling down over the woods. A chill vapor seemed to arise from the +water. There was a melancholy note in the tweet of the low-flitting +birds. The rustling trees softened their murmur to a continuous whisper, +soothing and caressing. The tinkle of the creek became more metallic and +pronounced. Near by, down the stream, a sudden chorus of frogs burst +into croaking, their isolated notes blended by the chirping undertone of +the crickets and tree toads. There were other sounds, mysterious, +untraceable, but all musical in greater or lesser degree. + +He understood at last. These sounds, the rustling leaves, the flitting +birds, the tinkling creek, the frogs, tree toads and crickets and those +other intangible cadences, these were the instruments of nature's vast +orchestra, playing their lullaby, languorous and sweet, for the drowsy +day. It was dusk, and he was desperately in love with Adnah, and he had +on a fool bloomer bath suit and no money, and he had to go back into +civilization just as he was. Woe, woe, woe and anathema! + +At the house he found a table set under a big oak tree back of the +kitchen. Supper for one was illumined by the rays of a solitary lantern. +Aunt Sarah and Aunt Ann, each with a pistol in her lap, sat grimly to +one side. Adnah nor Aunt Matilda were anywhere to be seen, and he +divined with a thrill that Aunt Matilda was acting as jailer to the +young woman until he should be safely off the premises. Evidently she +had been hard to manage. Bless the little girl! + +He took off his hat as he approached and bowed respectfully. + +"I should like you to know who I am," he began. + +"You will please to eat your supper without conversation," Aunt Sarah +sternly interrupted. + +"I wish to pay my addresses to your niece," he protested, but the two +ladies, finding rudeness necessary, clasped their hands to their ears. + +"Kindly eat," said Aunt Sarah, without removing her hands. + +He sat down and glared at the food in despair. He thought he heard +Adnah's voice and the sounds of a scuffle in the house, and it gave him +inspiration. He arose, and, leaning his hands on the edge of the table, +shouted as loudly as he could: + +"I am John Melton, of Philadelphia. I will give you as many references +as you like. I wish your permission to write to your niece and, later +on, to call upon her. May I do so?" + +"Are you going to eat your supper?" inquired Aunt Sarah. + +He gave up. He could not, as a gentleman, take Aunt Sarah's hands from +her ears and make her listen to what he had to say. He turned sadly away +from the table. The armed escort also arose. + +"Please lead the way," requested Aunt Sarah. "The path leads directly +from the front of the cottage to the road." + +He had stalked, in dismal silence, almost half way down the winding +avenue of trees, moodily watching the gigantic shadows of his limbs +leaping jerkily among the shrubbery, when it occurred to him that the +women could scarcely carry the lantern and pistols and still hold their +ears. + +"I am John Melton, of Philadelphia," he shouted, and looked back to +address them more directly. Alas, the pistols reposed in the pockets of +the two prim aprons, the lantern smoked askew at Aunt Sarah's waist, and +both women were holding their hands to their ears! + +He could not know that they had been whispering about him, however, and +really, for man-haters, their remarks had been very complimentary. Not +even that ridiculous costume could hide his athletic figure, his good +carriage and pleasant address. + +They were nearing the road when they heard a woman's voice shrieking for +them to wait, and presently Aunt Matilda came running after them, +breathless and excited. + +"You must come back to the house at once, all of you," she panted. +"Adnah is wildly hysterical. She insists that she must have this young +man, monster or no monster--that she will die without him. I truly +believe that she would!" + +"Nonsense!" exclaimed Aunt Sarah. "Come on, then!" + +It was Aunt Sarah who swiftly and anxiously led the way. At the door of +the parlor she paused and confronted the young man. + +"Remember," she warned, "that however impulsive our poor, misguided +niece may appear, you _must_ not kiss her!" + +Without waiting for reply she opened the door for him. Adnah, smiling +happily through the last of her tears, sprang to meet him, and, seizing +his hand, drew him down on the couch beside her. + +"I'm going to keep you here always, now," she declared with pretty +authority, as she locked her arm in his and interlaced their fingers. + +He looked around at the aunts and suddenly longed for his own clothes. +They had drawn their chairs in a close semi-circle about the couch and +were helplessly staring. He felt the hot blood burning in his cheeks, on +his temples, down the back of his neck. + +"You _will_ stay, won't you?" Adnah anxiously asked him. + +"I think I shall take you with me, instead," he replied, smiling down at +her in an attempt to conquer his embarrassment. + +Adnah rapturously sighed. The spectators suddenly arose, retiring to the +far corner of the room, where they held an excited, whispered +consultation. Presently they came back and sat down in the same solemn +half-circle. Aunt Sarah ceremoniously cleared her throat. + +"You will please to unclasp your hands and sit farther apart," she +directed. This obeyed, she proceeded: "Now, Mr. Nelson--" + +"Melton, if you please," corrected the young man, producing a business +card that he had rescued. + +"Oh!" exclaimed the aunts, exchanging wondering glances. + +"We understood that it was Nelson," murmured Aunt Matilda. It seemed +that the hands had not been so tightly clasped over the ears as he had +thought. + +Aunt Sarah gravely adjusted her glasses. + +"'John Melton, Jr.,'" she read. "'Representing Melton and Melton, +Administrators and Real Estate Dealers. General John A. Melton. John +Melton, Jr.'" + +There was a suppressed flutter of excitement and again the three aunts +exchanged surprised glances. + +"I think I may safely say, may I not, Sisters Ann and Matilda, that this +quite alters the case?" was Aunt Sarah's strange query. + +"Quite so, indeed," agreed Aunt Matilda, complacently smoothing her +apron. + +"Very much so," added Aunt Ann. + +"Decidedly," resumed Aunt Sarah. "Your father, young man, handled the +estate of our deceased Uncle Peter in a most upright and satisfactory +fashion--for a man. So far, much is in your favor, since our unfortunate +niece will not be contented without some sort of a husband. Your +personal qualifications have yet to be proved, however. We presume that +you can offer documentary evidence as to your own worth, sir?" + +"Not for a day or so, unfortunately," confessed the young man. "The dogs +destroyed all my papers. The only thing I could find was a portion of a +brief note from my mother." + +The three aunts, as by one electric impulse, bent forward with shining +eyes. + +"From your mother!" hungrily repeated Aunt Sarah. "Let us see it, if you +will, please." + +He produced it reluctantly. It was not exactly the sort of letter a +young man cares to parade. + +"'My beloved son,'" Aunt Sarah read aloud, pausing to bestow a softened +glance upon him. "'I can not wait for your return to say how proud I am +of you. Your noble and generous action in regard to the aged widow +Crane's property has just come to my ears, through a laughing complaint +of your father about your unbusinesslike methods in dealing with those +who have been unfortunate. In spite of his whimsically expressed +disapproval, he feels that you are an honor to him. Your sister Nellie +cried in her pride and love of you when she heard--'" + +The rest of the letter had been lost, but this was enough. + +Adnah had gradually hitched closer to him, and now her hand, unreproved, +stole affectionately to his shoulder. Aunt Matilda was wiping her eyes. +Aunt Ann openly sniffled. Aunt Sarah cleared her throat most violently. + +"Your references are all that we could wish, young man," she presently +admitted in a businesslike tone. "We shall waive, in your favor, our +objections to men in general. If we must have one in the family we are +to be congratulated upon having one whose mother is proud of him." + +Coming from Aunt Sarah this was a marvelous concession. The young man +bowed his head in pleased acknowledgment and, by and by, crossed his +legs in comfort as a home-like feeling began to settle down upon him. +Suddenly observing their bloomered exposure, however, he tried to poke +his legs under the couch, and twiddled his thumbs instead. + +"And when do our young people expect to be married?" meek Sister Ann +presently ventured to inquire. + +"As quickly as possible," promptly answered the young man, smiling +triumphantly down at the girl by his side. He was astonished, and rather +pleased, too, to find her suddenly embarrassed and blushing prettily. + +"I believe, then," announced Aunt Sarah, after due deliberation, "that +you may now kiss our niece; may he not, Sisters Ann and Matilda?" + +"He may!" eagerly assented the others. + +"Very well, then, proceed," commanded Aunt Sarah, folding her arms. + +The young man hastily braced himself to meet this new shock, then gazed +down at the girl again. She was still blushing in her newly-found +self-conscious femininity, but she trustingly held up her pretty lips to +him, looking full into his eyes with the steady flame of her love +burning unveiled--and he kissed her. + +"Ah-h-h-h!" sighed the three man-hating spinsters in ecstatic unison. + + + + +A LETTER FROM A SELF-MADE MERCHANT TO HIS SON + +BY GEORGE HORACE LORIMER + + +[From John Graham, at the London House of Graham & Co., to his son, +Pierrepont, at the Union Stock Yards in Chicago. Mr. Pierrepont is +worried over rumors that the old man is a bear on lard, and that the +longs are about to make him climb a tree.] + +LONDON, October 27, 189- + +_Dear Pierrepont:_ Yours of the twenty-first inst. to hand and I note +the inclosed clippings. You needn't pay any special attention to this +newspaper talk about the Comstock crowd having caught me short a big +line of November lard. I never sell goods without knowing where I can +find them when I want them, and if these fellows try to put their +forefeet in the trough, or start any shoving and crowding, they're going +to find me forgetting my table manners, too. For when it comes to funny +business I'm something of a humorist myself. And while I'm too old to +run, I'm young enough to stand and fight. + +First and last, a good many men have gone gunning for me, but they've +always planned the obsequies before they caught the deceased. I reckon +there hasn't been a time in twenty years when there wasn't a nice "Gates +Ajar" piece all made up and ready for me in some office near the Board +of Trade. But the first essential of a quiet funeral is a willing +corpse. And I'm still sitting up and taking nourishment. + +There are two things you never want to pay any attention to--abuse and +flattery. The first can't harm you and the second can't help you. Some +men are like yellow dogs--when you're coming toward them they'll jump up +and try to lick your hands; and when you're walking away from them +they'll sneak up behind and snap at your heels. Last year, when I was +bulling the market, the longs all said that I was a kindhearted old +philanthropist, who was laying awake nights scheming to get the farmers +a top price for their hogs; and the shorts allowed that I was an +infamous old robber, who was stealing the pork out of the workingman's +pot. As long as you can't please both sides in this world, there's +nothing like pleasing your own side. + +There are mighty few people who can see any side to a thing except their +own side. I remember once I had a vacant lot out on the Avenue, and a +lady came in to my office and in a soothing-sirupy way asked if I would +lend it to her, as she wanted to build a _creche_ on it. I hesitated a +little, because I had never heard of a _creche_ before, and someways it +sounded sort of foreign and frisky, though the woman looked like a good, +safe, reliable old heifer. But she explained that a _creche_ was a baby +farm, where old maids went to wash and feed and stick pins in other +people's children while their mothers were off at work. Of course, there +was nothing in that to get our pastor or the police after me, so I told +her to go ahead. + +She went off happy, but about a week later she dropped in again, +looking sort of dissatisfied, to find out if I wouldn't build the +_creche_ itself. It seemed like a worthy object, so I sent some +carpenters over to knock together a long frame pavilion. She was mighty +grateful, you bet, and I didn't see her again for a fortnight. Then she +called by to say that so long as I was in the business and they didn't +cost me anything special, would I mind giving her a few cows. She had a +surprised and grieved expression on her face as she talked, and the way +she put it made me feel that I ought to be ashamed of myself for not +having thought of the live stock myself. So I threw in a half dozen cows +to provide the refreshments. + +I thought that was pretty good measure, but the carpenters hadn't more +than finished with the pavilion before the woman telephoned a sharp +message to ask why I hadn't had it painted. + +I was too busy that morning to quarrel, so I sent word that I would fix +it up; and when I was driving by there next day the painters were hard +at work on it. There was a sixty-foot frontage of that shed on the +Avenue, and I saw right off that it was just a natural signboard. So I +called over the boss painter and between us we cooked up a nice little +ad that ran something like this: + + Graham's Extract: + It Makes the Weak Strong. + +Well, sir, when she saw the ad next morning that old hen just +scratched gravel. Went all around town saying that I had given a +five-hundred-dollar shed to charity and painted a thousand-dollar ad on +it. Allowed I ought to send my check for that amount to the _creche_ +fund. Kept at it till I began to think there might be something in it, +after all, and sent her the money. Then I found a fellow who wanted to +build in that neighborhood, sold him the lot cheap, and got out of the +_creche_ industry. + +I've put a good deal more than work into my business, and I've drawn a +good deal more than money out of it; but the only thing I've ever put +into it which didn't draw dividends in fun or dollars was worry. That is +a branch of the trade which you want to leave to our competitors. + +I've always found worrying a blamed sight more uncertain than +horse-racing--it's harder to pick a winner at it. You go home worrying +because you're afraid that your fool new clerk forgot to lock the safe +after you, and during the night the lard refinery burns down; you spend +a year fretting because you think Bill Jones is going to cut you out +with your best girl, and then you spend ten worrying because he didn't; +you worry over Charlie at college because he's a little wild, and he +writes you that he's been elected president of the Y.M.C.A.; and you +worry over William because he's so pious that you're afraid he's going +to throw up everything and go to China as a missionary, and he draws on +you for a hundred; you worry because you're afraid your business is +going to smash, and your health busts up instead. Worrying is the one +game in which, if you guess right, you don't get any satisfaction out of +your smartness. A busy man has no time to bother with it. He can always +find plenty of old women in skirts or trousers to spend their days +worrying over their own troubles and to sit up nights waking his. + +Speaking of handing over your worries to others naturally calls to mind +the Widow Williams and her son Bud, who was a playmate of mine when I +was a boy. Bud was the youngest of the Widow's troubles, and she was a +woman whose troubles seldom came singly. Had fourteen altogether, and +four pair of 'em were twins. Used to turn 'em loose in the morning, when +she let out her cows and pigs to browse along the street, and then she'd +shed all worry over them for the rest of the day. Allowed that if they +got hurt the neighbors would bring them home; and that if they got +hungry they'd come home. And someways, the whole drove always showed up +safe and dirty about meal time. + +I've no doubt she thought a lot of Bud, but when a woman has fourteen it +sort of unsettles her mind so that she can't focus her affections or +play any favorites. And so when Bud's clothes were found at the swimming +hole one day, and no Bud inside them, she didn't take on up to the +expectations of the neighbors who had brought the news, and who were +standing around waiting for her to go off into something special in the +way of high-strikes. + +She allowed that they were Bud's clothes, all right, but she wanted to +know where the remains were. Hinted that there'd be no funeral, or such +like expensive goings-on, until some one produced the deceased. Take her +by and large, she was a pretty cool, calm cucumber. + +But if she showed a little too much Christian resignation, the rest of +the town was mightily stirred up over Bud's death, and every one just +quit work to tell each other what a noble little fellow he was; and how +his mother hadn't deserved to have such a bright little sunbeam in her +home; and to drag the river between talks. But they couldn't get a rise. + +Through all the worry and excitement the Widow was the only one who +didn't show any special interest, except to ask for results. But +finally, at the end of a week, when they'd strained the whole river +through their drags and hadn't anything to show for it but a collection +of tin cans and dead catfish, she threw a shawl over her head and went +down the street to the cabin of Louisiana Clytemnestra, an old yellow +woman, who would go into a trance for four bits and find a fortune for +you for a dollar. I reckon she'd have called herself a clairvoyant +nowadays, but then she was just a voodoo woman. + +Well, the Widow said she reckoned that boys ought to be let out as well +as in for half price, and so she laid down two bits, allowing that she +wanted a few minutes' private conversation with her Bud. Clytie said +she'd do her best, but that spirits were mighty snifty and high-toned, +even when they'd only been poor white trash on earth, and it might make +them mad to be called away from their high jinks if they were taking a +little recreation, or from their high-priced New York customers if they +were working, to tend to cut-rate business. Still, she'd have a try, and +she did. But after having convulsions for half an hour, she gave it up. +Reckoned that Bud was up to some cussedness off somewhere, and that he +wouldn't answer for any two-bits. + +The Widow was badly disappointed, but she allowed that that was just +like Bud. He'd always been a boy that never could be found when any one +wanted him. So she went off, saying that she'd had her money's worth in +seeing Clytie throw those fancy fits. But next day she came again and +paid down four bits, and Clytie reckoned that that ought to fetch Bud +sure. Someways though, she didn't have any luck, and finally the Widow +suggested that she call up Bud's father--Buck Williams had been dead a +matter of ten years--and the old man responded promptly. + +"Where's Bud?" asked the Widow. + +Hadn't laid eyes on him. Didn't know he'd come across. Had he joined the +church before he started? + +"No." + +Then he'd have to look downstairs for him. + +Clytie told the Widow to call again and they'd get him sure. So she came +back next day and laid down a dollar. That fetched old Buck Williams' +ghost On the jump, you bet, but he said he hadn't laid eyes on Bud yet. +They hauled the Sweet By and By with a drag net, but they couldn't get a +rap from him. Clytie trotted out George Washington, and Napoleon, and +Billy Patterson, and Ben Franklin, and Captain Kidd, just to show that +there was no deception, but they couldn't get a whisper even from Bud. + +I reckon Clytie had been stringing the old lady along, intending to +produce Bud's spook as a sort of red-fire, calcium-light, +grand-march-of-the-Amazons climax, but she didn't get a chance. For +right there the old lady got up with a mighty set expression around her +lips and marched out, muttering that it was just as she had thought all +along--Bud wasn't there. And when the neighbors dropped in that +afternoon to plan out a memorial service for her "lost lamb," she +chased them off the lot with a broom. Said that they had looked in the +river for him and that she had looked beyond the river for him, and that +they would just stand pat now and wait for him to make the next move. +Allowed that if she could once get her hands in "that lost lamb's" wool +there might be an opening for a funeral when she got through with him, +but there wouldn't be till then. Altogether, it looked as if there was a +heap of trouble coming to Bud if he had made any mistake and was still +alive. + +The Widow found her "lost lamb" hiding behind a rain-barrel when she +opened up the house next morning, and there was a mighty touching and +affecting scene. In fact, the Widow must have touched him at least a +hundred times and every time he was affected to tears, for she was using +a bed slat, which is a powerfully strong moral agent for making a boy +see the error of his ways. And it was a month after that before Bud +could go down Main Street without some man who had called him a noble +little fellow, or a bright, manly little chap, while he was drowned, +reaching out and fetching him a clip on the ear for having come back and +put the laugh on him. + +No one except the Widow ever really got at the straight of Bud's +conduct, but it appeared that he left home to get a few Indians scalps, +and that he came back for a little bacon and corn pone. + +I simply mention the Widow in passing as an example of the fact that the +time to do your worrying is when a thing is all over, and that the way +to do it is to leave it to the neighbors. I sail for home to-morrow. + +Your affectionate father, +JOHN GRAHAM. + + + + +FAREWELL + +_Provoked by Calverley's "Forever"_ + +By Bert Leston Taylor + + + "Farewell!" Another gloomy word + As ever into language crept. + 'Tis often written, never heard, + Except + + In playhouse. Ere the hero flits-- + In handcuffs--from our pitying view. + "Farewell!" he murmurs, then exits + R.U. + + "Farewell" is much too sighful for + An age that has not time to sigh. + We say, "I'll see you later," or + "Good-by!" + + When, warned by chanticleer, you go + From her to whom you owe devoir, + "Say not 'good-by,'" she laughs, "but + 'Au Revoir!'" + + Thus from the garden are you sped; + And Juliet were the first to tell + You, you were silly if you said + "Farewell!" + + "Farewell," meant long ago, before + It crept, tear-spattered, into song, + "Safe voyage!" "Pleasant journey!" or + "So long!" + + But gone its cheery, old-time ring; + The poets made it rhyme with knell-- + Joined it became a dismal thing-- + "Farewell!" + + "Farewell!" into the lover's soul + You see Fate plunge the fatal iron. + All poets use it. It's the whole + Of Byron. + + "I only feel--farewell!" said he; + And always fearful was the telling-- + Lord Byron was eternally + Farewelling. + + "Farewell!" A dismal word, 'tis true + (And why not tell the truth about it!); + But what on earth would poets do + Without it? + + + + +MY RUTHERS + +BY JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY + +[Writ durin' State Fair at Indanoplis, whilse visitin' a Soninlaw then +residin' thare, who has sence got back to the country whare he says a +man that's raised thare ot to a-stayed in the first place.] + + + I tell you what I'd ruther do-- + Ef I only had my ruthers,-- + I'd ruther work when I wanted to + Than be bossed round by others;-- + I'd ruther kindo' git the swing + O' what was _needed_, first, I jing! + Afore I _swet_ at anything!-- + Ef I only had my ruthers;-- + In fact I'd aim to be the same + With all men as my brothers; + And they'd all be the same with _me_-- + Ef I only had my ruthers. + + I wouldn't likely know it all-- + Ef I only had my ruthers;-- + I'd know _some_ sense, and some base-ball-- + Some _old_ jokes, and--some others: + I'd know _some politics_, and 'low + Some tarif-speeches same as now, + Then go hear Nye on "Branes and How + To Detect Theyr Presence." _T'others_, + That stayed away, I'd _let_ 'em stay-- + All my dissentin' brothers + Could chuse as shore a kill er cuore, + Ef I only had my ruthers. + + The pore 'ud git theyr dues _some_times-- + Ef I only had my ruthers,-- + And be paid _dollars_ 'stid o' _dimes_, + Fer children, wives and mothers: + Theyr boy that slaves; theyr girl that sews-- + Fer _others_--not herself, God knows!-- + The grave's _her_ only change of clothes! + ... Ef I only had my ruthers, + They'd all have "stuff" and time enugh + To answer one-another's + Appealin' prayer fer "lovin' care"-- + Ef I only had my ruthers. + + They'd be few folks 'ud ast fer trust, + Ef I only had my ruthers, + And blame few business-men to bu'st + Theyrselves, er harts of others: + Big Guns that come here durin' Fair- + Week could put up jest anywhare, + And find a full-and-plenty thare, + Ef I only had my ruthers: + The rich and great 'ud 'sociate + With all theyr lowly brothers, + Feelin' _we_ done the honorun-- + Ef I only had my ruthers. + + + + +THE DUTIFUL MARINER[4] + +BY WALLACE IRWIN + + + 'Twas off the Eastern Filigrees-- + Wizzle the pipes o'ertop!-- + When the gallant Captain of the Cheese + Began to skip and hop. + + "Oh stately man and old beside, + Why dost gymnastics do? + Is such example dignified + To set before your crew?" + + "Oh hang me crew," the Captain cried, + "And scuttle of me ship. + If I'm the skipper, blarst me hide! + Ain't I supposed to skip? + + "I'm growing old," the Captain said; + "Me dancing days are done; + But while I'm skipper of this ship + I'll skip with any one. + + "I'm growing grey," I heard him say, + "And I can not rest or sleep + While under me the troubled sea + Lies forty spasms deep. + + "Lies forty spasms deep," he said; + "But still me trusty sloop + Each hour, I wot, goes many a knot + And many a bow and loop. + + "The hours are full of knots," he said, + "Untie them if ye can. + In vain I've tried, for Time and Tied + Wait not for any man. + + "Me fate is hard," the old man sobbed, + "And I am sick and sore. + Me aged limbs of rest are robbed + And skipping is a bore. + + "But Duty is the seaman's boast, + And on this gallant ship + You'll find the skipper at his post + As long as he can skip." + + And so the Captain of the Cheese + Skipped on again as one + Who lofty satisfaction sees + In duty bravely done. + +[Footnote 4: From "Nautical Lays of a Landsman," by Wallace Irwin. +Copyright, 1904, by Dodd, Mead & Co.] + + + + +MELINDA'S HUMOROUS STORY + +BY MAY McHENRY + + +Melinda was dejected. She told herself that she was groping in the vale +of despair, that life was a vast, gray, echoing void. She decided that +ambition was dead--a case of starvation; that friendship had slipped +through too eagerly grasping fingers; that love--ah, _love_!-- + +"You'd better take a dose of blue-mass," her aunt suggested when she had +sighed seven times dolefully at the tea table. + +"Not _blue_-mass. Any other kind of mass you please, but _not_ blue," +Melinda shuddered absently. + +No; she was not physically ill; the trouble was deeper--soul sickness, +acute, threatening to become chronic, that defied allopathic doses of +favorite and other philosophers, that would not yield even to hourly +repetition of the formula handed down from her grandmother--"If you can +not have what you want, try to want what you have." Yet she could lay +her finger on no bleeding heart-wound, on no definite cause. It was true +that the deeply analytical, painstakingly interesting historical novel +on which she had worked all winter had been sent back from the +publishers with a briefly polite note of thanks and regrets; but as she +had never expected anything else, that could not depress her. Also, the +slump in G.C. Copper stock had forced her to give up her long-planned +southern trip and even to forego the consolatory purchase of a spring +gown; but she had a mind that could soar above flesh-pot +disappointments. Then, the Reverend John Graham;--but what John Graham +did or said was nothing--absolutely nothing, to her. + +So Melinda clenched her hands and moaned in the same key with the east +wind and told the four walls of her room that she could not endure it; +she must _do_ something. Then it was, that in a flash of inspiration, it +came to her--she would write a humorous story. + +The artistic fitness of the idea pleased her. She had always understood +that humorists were marked by a deep-dyed melancholy, that the height of +unhappiness was a vantage-ground from which to view the joke of +existence. She would test the dictum; now, if ever, she would write +humorously. The material was at hand, seething and crowding in her mind, +in fact--the monumental dullness and complacent narrowness of the +villagers, the egoism, the conceit, the bland shepherd-of-his-flock +pomposity of John Graham. What more could a humorist desire? Yes; she +would write. + +Thoughts came quick and fast; words flowed in a fiery stream like lava +that glows and rushes and curls and leaps down the mountain, sweeping +all obstacles aside. (The figure did not wholly please Melinda, for +everybody knows how dull and gray and uninteresting lava is when it +cools, but she had no time to bother with another.) She felt the +exultation, the joy and uplifting of spirit that is the reward--usually, +alas, the sole reward--of the writer in the work of creation. + +Then before the lava had time to cool she sent the story to the first +magazine on her list with a name beginning with "A." It was her custom +to send them that way, though sometimes with a desire to be impartial +she commenced at "Z" and went up the list. + +At the end of two weeks the wind had ceased blowing from the east. +Melinda decided that though life for her must be gray, echoing, void, +yet would she make an effort for the joy of others. She would lift +herself above the depression that enfolded her even as the buoyant +hyacinths were cleaving their dark husks and lifting up the beauty and +fragrance of their hearts to solace passers-by. Therefore she ceased +parting her hair in the middle and ordered a simple little frock from +D----'s--hyacinth blue _voile_ with a lining that should whisper and +rustle like the glad winds whisking away last year's leaves. + +Then the day came when she strolled carelessly and unexpectantly down +the village street to the post-office and there received a letter that +bore on the upper left-hand corner of the envelope the name of the +magazine first on her list beginning with "A." A chill passed along +Melinda's spine. That humorous story--Could this mean?--It was too +horrible to contemplate. + +She took a short cut through the orchard and as she walked she tore off +a corner and peeped into the envelope. Yes, there was a pale-blue slip +of paper with serrated edges. She leaned against a Baldwin apple-tree to +think. + +How true it is that one should be prepared for the unexpected. Melinda +had sent out many manuscripts freighted with tingling hopes and eager +aspirations and with the postage stamps that insured their prompt +return; how was she to know, by what process of reasoning could she +infer that this, that had been offered simply from force of habit, would +be retained in exchange for an aesthetically tinted check? She +anathematized the magazine editor. (That seems the proper thing to do +with editors.) She wanted to know what business he had to keep that +story after having led her to believe that it was his unbreakable custom +to send them back. It was deception, she told the swelling Baldwin buds, +base, deep-dyed, subtle deception. After baiting her on with his little, +pink, printed rejection slips, he suddenly sprung a wicked trap. + +It was some time before Melinda grew calm enough to read the editorial +letter. It ran: + + _"Dear Madam--We are glad to have your tender and delicately + sympathetic picture of village life. There is a note of true + sentiment and a generous appreciation of homely virtue marking this + story for which we desire to add an especial word of praise. Check + enclosed._ + + _"Very truly yours, + "The Editor of A----."_ + +Melinda sank limply on the bleached, last year's grass at the foot of +the tree. "Tender and delicately sympathetic picture"--"Generous +appreciation!" She laughed feebly. The editor was pleased to be +facetious. Having a fine sense of humor himself he showed his +realization of the story by acknowledging it in the same vein of subtle +satire. + +She reread the letter and unfolded the slip of paper with serrated +edges with changing emotions. After all it was not such a very bad +story. She permitted herself to recall how humorous it was, how +cleverly and keenly it laid bare the ridiculous, the unexpected, how +it scintillated with wit and abounded in droll and subtle distinctions +and descriptions--all--all at the expense of her nearest relatives and +her dearest friends. + +Melinda thought she would return the check and demand that her story be +sent back to her or destroyed; but, reflecting that Punch's advice is +applicable to other things than matrimony and suicide, she didn't. She +resolutely put her literary Frankenstein behind her. She reasoned that +in all probability the story would not be published during the lifetime +of any of the originals of the characters; that even if the worst came +to the worst, Mossdale was likely to remain in ignorance that would be +blissful. The villagers were not wont to waste time on the printed word; +in fact, such was the profundity of their unenlightenment, few of them +had heard of the magazine with a name beginning with "A." Even John +Graham paid little attention to the secular periodicals; besides, if +absolutely necessary, John's attention might be diverted. + +So Melinda went away on a visit. Her health demanded it. The doctor was +unable to name her malady, but she herself diagnosed it as +_magazinitis_. + +Toward fall Melinda, entirely recovered, returned to Mossdale. Entirely +recovered, yet she turned cold, unseeing eyes on the newsboy when he +passed through the car with his towering load of varicolored +periodicals, and rather than be forced to the final resort of the +unaccompanied traveler, she welcomed the advent of an acquaintance +possessed of volubility of an ejaculatory, eruptive variety. After many +gentle jets and spurts of gossip much remained to be told, as the lady +hastily gathered up her impedimenta preparatory to alighting at her home +station. + +"How like me in the joy of seeing you, to forget! What a sweet, clever +story! And to think of _you_ having something published in 'A----'! I +never was more surprised than when Mr. Ferguson brought home the +magazine. Those delicious Mossdale people! I could not endure that the +dear things should not see and know at once. The lovely hamlet is so--so +remote, and I knew you were traveling. What a pleasure to send them half +a dozen copies that very evening!--Yes, porter, that, too--_Do_ run down +to see me soon, dear--Now _do_. _Good_-by!" + +Melinda summoned the newsboy and bought the latest number of the +magazine with a name beginning with "A." She turned to the list of +"Contents" with feverish anxiety, then the book slid from her nerveless +fingers. Her humorous story had been given to an eager public. She +leaned back and gazed out at the flying telegraph poles and fields. Even +the worthiest, the gravest, the finest, she reflected, has a face, that +if seen in a certain light, will flash out the ignus fatuus of the +ridiculous; but it is not usually considered the office of friendship to +turn on the betraying light. Oh, well, her relatives would forgive in +time. Relatives _have_ to forgive. It was unfortunate that John Graham +was not a relative. "One thing, I know now how much Mrs. Ferguson cares +because I got those six votes ahead of her for the Thursday Club +presidency--Half a dozen copies!" Melinda said aloud as she caught +sight of the spire of the Mossdale Church. + +Her Uncle Joe met her at the station and kissed her for the first time +since she had put on long dresses. Notwithstanding a foolish prejudice +against tobacco juice Melinda received the salute in a meek and contrite +spirit. + +"Notice how many citizens were hanging around underfoot on the depot +platform--so as you kinder had to stop and shake hands to get 'em out o' +the way?" Uncle Joe queried as he turned the colts' heads toward home. + +Melinda had noticed. "I suppose they came out to see the train come in," +she suggested. + +"Nope; not exactly." Uncle Joe explained, "Looking out for automo_biles_ +and flying airships have made trains of cars seem mighty common up this +way. Nope; the folks was out on account of you a-comin'." + +"Me?" Having a guilty conscience Melinda glanced backward apprehensively +and made a motion as though to dodge a missile. + +"Yep; and you'll find a lot of the relations at the house a-waitin' for +you." + +"Why--what--? Now look here, Uncle Joe, there is no occasion to be +foolish about a little--" + +"Foolish? Now, mebby some would call it foolish, but us folks up the +creek here we can't help feelin' set up some over findin' out we have a +second Milton or a Mrs. Stowe in the fambly." + +Melinda looked at her relative's concave profile in sick suspicion. Was +the trail of the serpent over them all? But no, Uncle Joe was beaming +mildly with the satisfaction of having shown that although the literary +hemisphere was the unknown land, he had heard of a mountain and a minor +elevation or two; he was, as she had always believed, incapable of +satire. + +For once Melinda was speechless. But Uncle Joe was likely to be fluent +when he got started. He cleared his throat and turned mild, suffused, +half-shamed blue eyes on his shrinking niece. "Yes, your piece has come +out in the paper, Melinda, and your folks are all-fired pleased with +you. I told Lucy this morning I wisht your poor Pap could come back to +earth for just this one day." + +"Ah-h!" Melinda took a firm grip on the side of the buggy. "But I guess +you'll have to write another right off. There is some jealousy amongst +them that aren't in it," Uncle Joe went on. "I told 'em you couldn't put +the whole connection in or it would read like a list of 'them present' +at a surprise party. Your Aunt Lucy, she's just as tickled as a hen with +three chickens." The old man chuckled. "There it is all down in black +and white just like it happened, only different, about her spasm of +economy when she was cleanin' away Mary Emmeline's medicine bottles and +couldn't bear to throw away what was left over, but up and took it all +herself in one powerful mixed dose to save it, and had to have the +doctor with a stomach-pump to cure her of spasms, what wasn't so +economical after all. It's her picture tickles her most." + +"Oh!" said Melinda. + +"Yes, you know the picture is as slim as a girl in her first pair o' +cossets a-standin' on a chair a-reachin' bottles off a top shelf, and +your Aunt Lucy's that hefty she hain't stood on a chair for ten years +for fear 'twould break down, and she's had to trust the top shelf to +the hired girl. I guess when she goes to Heaven she'll want to stop on +the way up and fix that top shelf to suit her. So she just sits and +looks at that picture and smiles and smiles. She likes my whiskers, too. +Yes, she's always wanted me to wear whiskers ever since we was married, +but we never was a whiskery fambly and they wouldn't seem to grow +thicker than your Uncle Josh's corn when he planted it one grain to the +hill. But there I am in the picture in the paper with real biblical +whiskers reachin' to the bottom o' my vest." + +Uncle Joe cleared his throat and glanced sideways at his niece again. "I +want to tell you, Melindy, that I am real obleeged to you for makin' me +one of the main ones in the piece with a lot to say. Your Aunt Lucy says +'twas only right and proper, me bein' your nighest kin and you livin' +with us; but I told her there was so many others that was smarter and +more the story-paper kind, that I thought it showed real good feelin' on +your part; yes, I did.--_G'up, there, Ginger!_--Then I kind o' thought +I'd warn you, too, Melindy, that they all are just a-dyin' to hear you +say who 'The Preacher' is. He's the only one we couldn't quite place." + +Melinda took the little bottle of smelling salts from her bag and held +it to her nose. + +"Yes," Uncle Joe went on, "the others was easy identified because you +had named the names; but him you just called 'The Preacher' all the way +through. Some says it's the Reverend Graham kind of toned down and +trimmed up like things you see in the moonlight on a summer night. But I +told them the Reverend Graham is a nice enough chap, but that that +extra-fine, way-up preacher fellow in the story must be some stranger +you knew from off and didn't give his name, because you didn't rightly +know what it was. I thought, even if you was so soft on Reverend Graham +as to see him in that illusory, moony light, that about the stranger +from off was the right and proper thing for me, being your uncle, to say +any way. So if you want to keep it dark about 'The Preacher' you can +just talk about a stranger from off." + +"I will, Uncle Joe--_dear_ Uncle Joe." Melinda exclaimed gratefully as +they stopped in front of the gate. + +Melinda greeted her relatives with a warmth and enthusiasm that +embarrassed and made them suspicious. She was not usually so complacent, +so solicitous for the health and progress of offspring; above all she +was not usually so loth to talk about herself. She acted as though she +had never written a story, yet three copies of it were spread open under +her nose--one on the piano, one on the parlor table, one on the +sideboard--all open at the passage about "The Preacher." + +The relatives retired in disgust. With the departure of the last one +Melinda seized a magazine and fled to the orchard. She would read that +story herself. As she turned the leaves she caught sight of a manly form +carefully climbing the fence. She dropped the periodical and stood on +it, gazing up pensively into the well-laden boughs of the Baldwin. + +The Reverend Graham took her hands in a strong ministerial squeeze. + +"It is very good of you to come to see me so soon after my return," she +faltered. + +"Good--Melinda! Do you think I could help coming?" he ejaculated. "I can +not tell you--words are inadequate to express what I feel," he went +on,--"the deep gratitude, the humility, the wonder, the triumph, the +determination, with God's aid, to live up to the high ideal you have set +forth in your wonderful story. You have seen the latent qualities, the +nobler potentialities; you have shown me to myself. _Melinda!_ Do not +think that I do not appreciate the difficulties of this hour for you. I +know how your heart is shrinking, how your delicate maidenly modesty is +up in arms. But Melinda, you know! you know! _Dear Melinda!_" + +"I am glad you understand me, John." + +"Understand you!" The Reverend Graham could restrain himself no longer. +He swept her into his arms, appropriating his own. + +Melinda remained there quiescently leaning against his shoulder, because +there seemed nothing else to do, also because it was a broad and +comfortable shoulder against which to lean. "I am done for," she +reflected. "Now I will never dare to confess that I was trying to be +humorous." + +Then she reached up a hand and touched the Preacher's face timidly. His +cheek was wet. "Why, John--_John!_" she whispered. + + + + +ABOU BEN BUTLER + +BY JOHN PAUL + + + Abou, Ben Butler (may his tribe be less!) + Awoke one night from a deep bottledness, + And saw, by the rich radiance of the moon, + Which shone and shimmered like a silver spoon, + A stranger writing on a golden slate + (Exceeding store had Ben of spoons and plate), + And to the stranger in his tent he said: + "Your little game?" The stranger turned his head, + And, with a look made all of innocence, + Replied: "I write the name of Presidents." + "And is mine one?" "Not if this court doth know + Itself," replied the stranger. Ben said, "Oh!" + And "Ah!" but spoke again: "Just name your price + To write me up as one that may be Vice." + + The stranger up and vanished. The next night + He came again, and showed a wondrous sight + Of names that haply yet might fill the chair-- + But, lo! the name of Butler was not there! + + + + +LATTER-DAY WARNINGS + +BY OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES + + + When legislators keep the law, + When banks dispense with bolts and locks,-- + When berries--whortle, rasp, and straw-- + Grow bigger _downwards_ through the box,-- + + When he that selleth house or land + Shows leak in roof or flaw in right,-- + When haberdashers choose the stand + Whose window hath the broadest light,-- + + When preachers tell us all they think, + And party leaders all they mean,-- + When what we pay for, that we drink, + From real grape and coffee-bean,-- + + When lawyers take what they would give, + And doctors give what they would take,-- + When city fathers eat to live, + Save when they fast for conscience' sake,-- + + When one that hath a horse on sale + Shall bring his merit to the proof, + Without a lie for every nail + That holds the iron on the hoof,-- + + When in the usual place for rips + Our gloves are stitched with special care, + And guarded well the whalebone tips + Where first umbrellas need repair,-- + + When Cuba's weeds have quite forgot + The power of suction to resist, + And claret-bottles harbor not + Such dimples as would hold your fist,-- + + When publishers no longer steal, + And pay for what they stole before,-- + When the first locomotive's wheel + Rolls through the Hoosac tunnel's bore;-- + + _Till_ then let Cumming blaze away, + And Miller's saints blow up the globe; + But when you see that blessed day, + _Then_ order your ascension robe! + + + + +IT PAYS TO BE HAPPY[5] + +BY TOM MASSON + + + She is so gay, so very gay, + And not by fits and starts, + But ever, through each livelong day + She's sunshine to all hearts. + + A tonic is her merry laugh! + So wondrous is her power + That listening grief would stop and chaff + With her from hour to hour. + + Disease before that cheery smile + Grows dim, begins to fade. + A Christian scientist, meanwhile, + Is this delightful maid. + + And who would not throw off dull care + And be like unto her, + When happiness brings, as her share, + One hundred dollars per ----? + +[Footnote 5: Lippincott's Magazine.] + + + + +THE MOSQUITO + +BY WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT + + + Fair insect! that, with thread-like legs spread out, + And blood-extracting bill, and filmy wing, + Dost murmur, as thou slowly sail'st about, + In pitiless ears, fall many a plaintive thing, + And tell how little our large veins should bleed + Would we but yield them to thy bitter need. + + Unwillingly, I own, and, what is worse, + Full angrily, men listen to thy plaint; + Thou gettest many a brush and many a curse, + For saying thou art gaunt, and starved, and faint. + Even the old beggar, while he asks for food, + + Would kill thee, hapless stranger, if he could. + I call thee stranger, for the town, I ween, + Has not the honor of so proud a birth: + Thou com'st from Jersey meadows, fresh and green, + The offspring of the gods, though born on earth; + For Titan was thy sire, and fair was she, + The ocean-nymph that nursed thy infancy. + + Beneath the rushes was they cradle swung, + And when at length thy gauzy wings grew strong, + Abroad to gentle airs their folds were flung, + Rose in the sky and bore thee soft along; + The south wind breathed to waft thee on thy way, + And danced and shone beneath the billowy bay. + + Calm rose afar the city spires, and thence + Came the deep murmur of its throng of men, + And as its grateful odors met thy sense, + They seemed the perfumes of thy native fen. + Fair lay its crowded streets, and at the sight + Thy tiny song grew shriller with delight. + + At length thy pinion fluttered in Broadway,-- + Ah, there were fairy steps, and white necks kissed + By wanton airs, and eyes whose killing ray + Shone through the snowy veils like stars through mist; + And fresh as morn, on many a cheek and chin, + Bloomed the bright blood through the transparent skin. + + Sure these were sights to tempt an anchorite! + What! do I hear thy slender voice complain? + Thou wailest when I talk of beauty's light, + As if it brought the memory of pain. + Thou art a wayward being--well, come near, + And pour thy tale of sorrow in mine ear. + + What say'st thou, slanderer! rouge makes thee sick? + And China Bloom at best is sorry food? + And Rowland's Kalydor, if laid on thick, + Poisons the thirsty wretch that bores for blood? + Go! 'twas a just reward that met thy crime; + But shun the sacrilege another time. + + That bloom was made to look at,--not to touch; + To worship, not approach, that radiant white; + And well might sudden vengeance light on such + As dared, like thee, most impiously to bite. + Thou shouldst have gazed at distance, and admired,-- + Murmured thy admiration and retired. + + Thou'rt welcome to the town; but why come here + To bleed a brother poet, gaunt like thee? + Alas! the little blood I have is dear, + And thin will be the banquet drawn from me. + Look round: the pale-eyed sisters in my cell, + Thy old acquaintance, Song and Famine, dwell. + + Try some plump alderman, and suck the blood + Enriched by generous wine and costly meat; + On well-filled skins, sleek as thy native mud, + Fix thy light pump, and press thy freckled feet. + Go to the men for whom, in ocean's halls, + The oyster breeds and the green turtle sprawls. + + There corks are drawn, and the red vintage flows, + To fill the swelling veins for thee, and now + The ruddy cheek and now the ruddier nose + Shall tempt thee, as thou flittest round the brow; + And when the hour of sleep its quiet brings, + No angry hand shall rise to brush thy wings. + + + + +"TIDDLE-IDDLE-IDDLE-IDDLE-BUM! BUM!" + +BY WILBUR D. NESBIT + + + When our town band gets on the square + On concert night you'll find me there. + I'm right beside Elijah Plumb, + Who plays th' cymbals an' bass drum; + An' next to him is Henry Dunn, + Who taps the little tenor one. + I like to hear our town band play, + But, best it does, I want to say, + Is when they tell a tune's to come + With + "Tiddle-iddle-iddle-iddle- + Bum-Bum!" + + O' course, there's some that likes the tunes + Like _Lily Dale_ an' _Ragtime Coons_; + Some likes a solo or duet + By Charley Green--B-flat cornet-- + An' Ernest Brown--th' trombone man. + (An' they can play, er no one can); + But it's the best when Henry Dunn + Lets them there sticks just cut an' run, + An' 'Lijah says to let her hum + With + "Tiddle-iddle-iddle-iddle- + Bum-Bum!" + + I don't know why, ner what's the use + O' havin' that to interduce + A tune--but I know, as fer me + I'd ten times over ruther see + Elijah Plumb chaw with his chin, + A-gettin' ready to begin, + While Henry plays that roll o' his + An' makes them drumsticks fairly sizz, + Announcin' music, on th' drum, + With + "Tiddle-iddle-iddle-iddle- + Bum-Bum!" + + + + +MY FIRST CIGAR + +BY ROBERT J. BURDETTE + + + 'Twas just behind the woodshed, + One glorious summer day, + Far o'er the hills the sinking sun + Pursued his westward way; + And in my safe seclusion + Removed from all the jar + And din of earth's confusion + I smoked my first cigar. + + It was my first cigar! + It was the worst cigar! + Raw, green and dank, hide-bound and rank + It was my first cigar! + + Ah, bright the boyish fancies + Wrapped in the smoke-wreaths blue; + My eyes grew dim, my head was light, + The woodshed round me flew! + Dark night closed in around me-- + Black night, without a star-- + Grim death methought had found me + And spoiled my first cigar. + + It was my first cigar! + A six-for-five cigar! + No viler torch the air could scorch-- + It was my first cigar! + + All pallid was my beaded brow, + The reeling night was late, + My startled mother cried in fear, + "My child, what have you ate?" + I heard my father's smothered laugh, + It seemed so strange and far, + I knew he knew I knew he knew + I'd smoked my first cigar! + + It was my first cigar! + A give-away cigar! + I could not die--I knew not why-- + It was my first cigar! + + Since then I've stood in reckless ways, + I've dared what men can dare, + I've mocked at danger, walked with death, + I've laughed at pain and care. + I do not dread what may befall + 'Neath my malignant star, + No frowning fate again can make + Me smoke my first cigar. + + I've smoked my first cigar! + My first and worst cigar! + Fate has no terrors for the man + Who's smoked his first cigar! + + + + +A BULLY BOAT AND A BRAG CAPTAIN + +_A Story of Steamboat Life on the Mississippi_ + +BY SOL SMITH + + +Does any one remember the _Caravan_? She was what would now be +considered a slow boat--_then_ (1827) she was regularly advertised as +the "fast running," etc. Her regular trips from New Orleans to Natchez +were usually made in from six to eight days; a trip made by her in five +days was considered remarkable. A voyage from New Orleans to Vicksburg +and back, including stoppages, generally entitled the officers and crew +to a month's wages. Whether the _Caravan_ ever achieved the feat of a +voyage to the Falls (Louisville) I have never learned; if she did, she +must have "had a _time_ of it!" + +It was my fate to take passage in this boat. The Captain was a +good-natured, easy-going man, careful of the comfort of his passengers, +and exceedingly fond of the _game of brag_. We had been out a little +more than five days, and we were in hopes of seeing the bluffs of +Natchez on the next day. Our wood was getting low, and night coming on. +The pilot on duty _above_ (the other pilot held three aces at the time, +and was just calling out the Captain, who "went it strong" on three +kings) sent down word that the mate had reported the stock of wood +reduced to half a cord. The worthy Captain excused himself to the pilot +whose watch was _below_ and the two passengers who made up the party, +and hurried to the deck, where he soon discovered by the landmarks that +we were about half a mile from a woodyard, which he said was situated +"right round yonder point." "But," muttered the Captain, "I don't much +like to take wood of the yellow-faced old scoundrel who owns it--he +always charges a quarter of a dollar more than any one else; however, +there's no other chance." The boat was pushed to her utmost, and in a +little less than an hour, when our fuel was about giving out, we made +the point, and our cables were out and fastened to trees alongside of a +good-sized wood pile. + +"Hallo, Colonel! How d'ye sell your wood _this_ time?" + +A yellow-faced old gentleman, with a two-weeks' beard, strings over his +shoulders holding up to his armpits a pair of copperas-colored +linsey-woolsey pants, the legs of which reached a very little below the +knee; shoes without stockings; a faded, broad-brimmed hat, which had +once been black, and a pipe in his mouth--casting a glance at the empty +guards of our boat and uttering a grunt as he rose from fastening our +"spring line," answered: + +"Why, Capting, we must charge you _three and a quarter_ THIS _time_." + +"The d--l!" replied the Captain--(captains did swear a little in those +days); "what's the odd _quarter_ for, I should like to know? You only +charged me _three_ as I went down." + +"Why, Captaing," drawled out the wood merchant, with a sort of leer on +his yellow countenance, which clearly indicated that his wood was as +good as sold, "wood's riz since you went down two weeks ago; besides, +you are awar that you very seldom stop going _down_--when you're going +_up_ you're sometimes obleeged to give me a call, becaze the current's +aginst you, and there's no other woodyard for nine miles ahead; and if +you happen to be nearly out of fooel, why--" + +"Well, well," interrupted the Captain, "we'll take a few cords, under +the circumstances," and he returned to his game of brag. + +In about half an hour we felt the _Caravan_ commence paddling again. +Supper was over, and I retired to my upper berth, situated alongside and +overlooking the brag-table, where the Captain was deeply engaged, having +now the _other_ pilot as his principal opponent. We jogged on +quietly--and seemed to be going at a good rate. + +"How does that wood burn?" inquired the Captain of the mate, who was +looking on at the game. + +"'Tisn't of much account, I reckon," answered the mate; "it's +cottonwood, and most of it green at that." + +"Well Thompson--(Three aces again, stranger--I'll take that X and the +small change, if you please. It's your deal)--Thompson, I say, we'd +better take three or four cords at the next woodyard--it can't be more +than six miles from here--(Two aces and a bragger, with the age! Hand +over those V's)." + +The game went on, and the paddles kept moving. At eleven o'clock it was +reported to the Captain that we were nearing the woodyard, the light +being distinctly seen by the pilot on duty. + +"Head her in shore, then, and take in six cords if it's good--see to +it, Thompson; I can't very well leave the game now--it's getting right +warm! This pilot's beating us all to smash." + +The wooding completed, we paddled on again. The Captain seemed somewhat +vexed when the mate informed him that the price was the same as at the +last woodyard--_three and a quarter_; but soon again became interested +in the game. + +From my upper berth (there were no state-rooms _then_) I could observe +the movements of the players. All the contention appeared to be between +the Captain and the pilots (the latter personages took it turn and turn +about, steering and playing brag), _one_ of them almost invariably +winning, while the two passengers merely went through the ceremony of +dealing, cutting, and paying up their "anties." They were anxious to +_learn the game_--and they _did_ learn it! Once in a while, indeed, +seeing they had two aces and a bragger, they would venture a bet of five +or ten dollars, but they were always compelled to back out before the +tremendous bragging of the Captain or pilot--or if they did venture to +"call out" on "two bullits and a bragger," they had the mortification to +find one of the officers had the same kind of a hand, and were _more +venerable_! Still, with all these disadvantages, they continued +playing--they wanted to learn the game. + +At two o'clock the Captain asked the mate how we were getting on. + +"Oh, pretty glibly, sir," replied the mate; "we can scarcely tell what +headway we _are_ making, for we are obliged to keep the middle of the +river, and there is the shadow of a fog rising. This wood seems rather +better than that we took in at Yellow-Face's, but we're nearly out +again, and must be looking out for more. I saw a light just ahead on +the right--shall we hail?" + +"Yes, yes," replied the Captain; "ring the bell and ask 'em what's the +price of wood up here, (I've got you again; here's double kings.)" + +I heard the bell and the pilot's hail, "What's' _your_ price for wood?" + +A youthful voice on the shore answered, "Three _and_ a quarter!" + +"D--net!" ejaculated the Captain, who had just lost the price of two +cords to the pilot--the strangers suffering _some_ at the same +time--"three and a quarter again! Are we _never_ to get to a cheaper +country? (Deal, sir, if you please; better luck next time.)" + +The other pilot's voice was again heard on deck: + +"How much _have_ you?" + +"Only about ten cords, sir," was the reply of the youthful salesman. + +The Captain here told Thompson to take six cords, which would last till +daylight--and again turned his attention to the game. + +The pilots here changed places. _When did they sleep?_ + +Wood taken in, the _Caravan_ again took her place in the middle of the +stream, paddling on as usual. + +Day at length dawned. The brag-party broke up and settlements were being +made, during which operation the Captain's bragging propensities were +exercised in cracking up the speed of his boat, which, by his reckoning, +must have made at least sixty miles, and _would_ have made many more if +he could have procured good wood. It appears the two passengers, in +their first lesson, had incidentally lost one hundred and twenty +dollars. The Captain, as he rose to see about taking in some _good_ +wood, which he felt sure of obtaining now that he had got above the +level country, winked at his opponent, the pilot, with whom he had been +on very bad terms during the progress of the game, and said, in an +undertone, "Forty apiece for you and I and James (the other pilot) is +not bad for one night." + +I had risen and went out with the Captain, to enjoy a view of the +bluffs. There was just fog enough to prevent the vision taking in more +than sixty yards--so I was disappointed in _my_ expectation. We were +nearing the shore, for the purpose of looking for wood, the banks being +invisible from the middle of the river. + +"There it is!" exclaimed the Captain; "stop her!" Ding--ding--ding! went +the big bell, and the Captain hailed: + +"Hallo! the woodyard!" + +"Hallo yourself!" answered a squeaking female voice, which came from a +woman with a petticoat over her shoulders in place of a shawl. + +"What's the price of wood?" + +"I think you ought to know the price by this time," answered the old +lady in the petticoat; "it's three and a qua-a-rter! and now you know +it." + +"Three and the d--l!" broke in the Captain. "What, have you raised on +_your_ wood, too? I'll give you _three_, and not a cent more." + +"Well," replied the petticoat, "here comes the old man--_he'll_ talk to +you." + +And, sure enough, out crept from the cottage the veritable faded hat, +copperas-colored pants, yellow countenance and two weeks' beard we had +seen the night before, and the same voice we had heard regulating the +price of cottonwood squeaked out the following sentence, accompanied by +the same leer of the same yellow countenance: + +"Why, darn it all, Capting, there is but three or four cords left, and +_since it's you_, I don't care if I _do_ let you have it for +_three_--_as you're a good customer_!" + +After a quick glance at the landmarks around, the Captain bolted, and +turned in to take some rest. + +The fact became apparent--the reader will probably have discovered it +some time since--that _we had been wooding all night at the same +woodyard_! + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Wit and Humor of America, Volume +V. 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