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+<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Songs of Friendship, by James Whitcomb Riley</title>
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+<body>
+<h1 align="center">The Project Gutenberg eBook, Songs of Friendship, by James Whitcomb Riley,
+Illustrated by Will Vawter</h1>
+<pre class="pg">
+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 <a href = "http://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre>
+<p>Title: Songs of Friendship</p>
+<p>Author: James Whitcomb Riley</p>
+<p>Release Date: October 20, 2007  [eBook #23111]</p>
+<p>Language: English</p>
+<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p>
+<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK SONGS OF FRIENDSHIP***</p>
+<br><br><center><h3>E-text prepared by Al Haines</h3></center><br><br>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr class="full" noshade>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<A NAME="img-front"></A>
+<CENTER>
+<IMG CLASS="imgcenter" SRC="images/img-front.jpg" ALT="&quot;Sleep, for thy mother bends over thee yet!&quot;" BORDER="0" WIDTH="415" HEIGHT="571">
+</CENTER>
+
+<BR><BR>
+
+<H1 ALIGN="center">
+RILEY SONGS OF FRIENDSHIP
+</H1>
+
+<BR><BR>
+
+<H2 ALIGN="center">
+JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY
+</H2>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+WITH PICTURES BY
+<BR>
+WILL VAWTER
+</H3>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<H4 ALIGN="center">
+NEW YORK
+<BR>
+GROSSET &amp; DUNLAP
+<BR>
+PUBLISHERS
+</H4>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<H5 ALIGN="center">
+Copyright 1885, 1887, 1888, 1890,<BR>
+1892, 1893, 1894, 1900, 1903, 1908,<BR>
+1913, 1915<BR>
+<BR>
+JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY
+</H5>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+To
+<BR>
+Young E. Allison&mdash;Bookman
+</H3>
+
+<BR><BR>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+The bookman he's a humming-bird&mdash;<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">His feasts are honey-fine,&mdash;</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">(With hi! hilloo!</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">And clover-dew</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">And roses lush and rare!)</SPAN><BR>
+<I>His</I> roses are the phrase and word<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Of olden tomes divine;</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">(With hi! and ho!</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">And pinks ablow</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">And posies everywhere!)</SPAN><BR>
+The Bookman he's a humming-bird,&mdash;<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">He steals from song to song&mdash;</SPAN><BR>
+He scents the ripest-blooming rhyme,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">And takes his heart along</SPAN><BR>
+And sacks all sweets of bursting verse<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">And ballads, throng on throng.</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">(With ho! and hey!</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">And brook and brae,</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">And brinks of shade and shine!)</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+A humming-bird the Bookman is&mdash;<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Though cumbrous, gray and grim,&mdash;</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">(With hi! hilloo!</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">And honey-dew</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">And odors musty-rare!)</SPAN><BR>
+He bends him o'er that page of his<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">As o'er the rose's rim.</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">(With hi! and ho!</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">And pinks aglow</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">And roses everywhere!)</SPAN><BR>
+Ay, he's the featest humming-bird,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">On airiest of wings</SPAN><BR>
+He poises pendent o'er the poem<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">That blossoms as it sings&mdash;</SPAN><BR>
+God friend him as he dips his beak<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">In such delicious things!</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">(With ho! and hey!</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">And world away</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">And only dreams for him!)</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+O friends of mine, whose kindly words come to me<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Voiced only in lost lisps of ink and pen,</SPAN><BR>
+If I had power to tell the good you do me,<BR>
+And how the blood you warm goes laughing through me,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">My tongue would babble baby-talk again.</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+And I would toddle round the world to meet you&mdash;<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Fall at your feet, and clamber to your knees</SPAN><BR>
+And with glad, happy hands would reach and greet you,<BR>
+And twine my arms about you, and entreat you<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">For leave to weave a thousand rhymes like these&mdash;</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+A thousand rhymes enwrought of nought but presses<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Of cherry-lip and apple-cheek and chin,</SPAN><BR>
+And pats of honeyed palms, and rare caresses,<BR>
+And all the sweets of which as Fancy guesses<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">She folds away her wings and swoons therein.</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="Pxv"></A>xv}</SPAN>
+
+<H2 ALIGN="center">
+CONTENTS
+</H2>
+
+<BR>
+
+<PRE STYLE="font-family: Courier New; font-size: 10pt">
+                                                           PAGE
+
+  <A HREF="#chap142">ABE MARTIN</A> . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  142
+  <A HREF="#chap182">AMERICA'S THANKSGIVING</A> . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  182
+  <A HREF="#chap101">ANCIENT PRINTERMAN, THE</A>  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  101
+  <A HREF="#chap078">ART AND POETRY</A> . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .   78
+  <A HREF="#chap023">BACK FROM TOWN</A> . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .   23
+  <A HREF="#chap034">BE OUR FORTUNES AS THEY MAY</A>  . . . . . . . . . . . . . .   34
+  <A HREF="#chap152">BECAUSE</A>  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  152
+  <A HREF="#chap141">CHRISTMAS GREETING</A> . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  141
+  <A HREF="#chap132">DAN O'SULLIVAN</A> . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  132
+  <A HREF="#chap180">DEAD JOKE AND THE FUNNY MAN, THE</A> . . . . . . . . . . . .  180
+  <A HREF="#chap080">DOWN TO THE CAPITAL</A>  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .   80
+  <A HREF="#chap046">FRIEND OF A WAYWARD HOUR</A> . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .   46
+  <A HREF="#chap058">GOOD-BY ER HOWDY-DO</A>  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .   58
+  <A HREF="#chap140">HER VALENTINE</A>  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  140
+  <A HREF="#chap153">HERR WEISER</A>  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  153
+  <A HREF="#chap025">HOBO VOLUNTARY, A</A>  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .   25
+  <A HREF="#chap036">I SMOKE MY PIPE</A>  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .   36
+  <A HREF="#chap148">IN THE AFTERNOON</A> . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  148
+  <A HREF="#chap120">IN THE HEART OF JUNE</A> . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  120
+  <A HREF="#chap100">JAMES B. MAYNARD</A> . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  100
+  <A HREF="#chap052">LETTER TO A FRIEND, A</A>  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .   52
+  <A HREF="#chap061">"LITTLE MAN IN THE TINSHOP, THE"</A> . . . . . . . . . . . .   61
+  <A HREF="#chap146">LITTLE OLD POEM THAT NOBODY READS, THE</A> . . . . . . . . .  146
+  <A HREF="#chap158">MOTHER-SONG, A</A> . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  158
+  <A HREF="#chap074">MY BACHELOR CHUM</A> . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .   74
+  <A HREF="#chap126">MY FRIEND</A>  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  126
+  <A HREF="#chap048">MY HENRY</A> . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .   48
+</PRE>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="Pxvi"></A>xvi}</SPAN>
+
+<PRE STYLE="font-family: Courier New; font-size: 10pt">
+  <A HREF="#chap114">MY JOLLY FRIEND'S SECRET</A> . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  114
+  <A HREF="#chap134">MY OLD FRIEND</A>  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  134
+  <A HREF="#chap121">OLD BAND, THE</A>  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  121
+  <A HREF="#chap089">OLD CHUMS</A>  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .   89
+  <A HREF="#chap054">OLD-FASHIONED BIBLE, THE</A> . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .   54
+  <A HREF="#chap136">OLD JOHN HENRY</A> . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  136
+  <A HREF="#chap185">OLD INDIANY</A>  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  185
+  <A HREF="#chap092">OLD MAN, THE</A> . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .   92
+  <A HREF="#chap105">OLD MAN AND JIM, THE</A> . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  105
+  <A HREF="#chap112">OLD SCHOOL-CHUM, THE</A> . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  112
+  <A HREF="#chap072">OUR OLD FRIEND NEVERFAIL</A> . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .   72
+  <A HREF="#chap036">POET'S LOVE FOR THE CHILDREN, THE</A>  . . . . . . . . . . .   42
+  <A HREF="#chap176">REACH YOUR HAND TO ME</A>  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  176
+  <A HREF="#chap090">SCOTTY</A> . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .   90
+  <A HREF="#chap041">SONG BY UNCLE SIDNEY, A</A>  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .   41
+  <A HREF="#chap162">STEPMOTHER, THE</A>  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  162
+  <A HREF="#chap168">THAT NIGHT</A> . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  168
+  <A HREF="#chap170">TO ALMON KEEPER</A>  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  170
+  <A HREF="#chap174">TO THE QUIET OBSERVER</A>  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  174
+  <A HREF="#chap068">TOM VAN ARDEN</A>  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .   68
+  <A HREF="#chap066">TOMMY SMITH</A>  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .   66
+  <A HREF="#chap128">TRAVELING MAN, THE</A> . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  128
+  <A HREF="#chap040">UNCLE SIDNEY TO MARCELLUS</A>  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .   40
+  <A HREF="#chap160">WHAT "OLD SANTA" OVERHEARD</A> . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  160
+  <A HREF="#chap163">WHEN OLD JACK DIED</A> . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  163
+  <A HREF="#chap060">WHEN WE THREE MEET</A> . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .   60
+</PRE>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="Pxvii"></A>xvii}</SPAN>
+
+<H2 ALIGN="center">
+ILLUSTRATIONS
+</H2>
+
+<BR>
+
+<PRE STYLE="font-family: Courier New; font-size: 10pt">
+                                                           PAGE
+
+  <A HREF="#img-front">"SLEEP, FOR THY MOTHER BENDS OVER THEE YET!"</A> . . Frontispiece
+  <A HREF="#img-023">BACK FROM TOWN--HEADPIECE</A>  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .   23
+  <A HREF="#img-025">A HOBO VOLUNTARY--HEADPIECE</A>  . . . . . . . . . . . . . .   25
+  <A HREF="#img-027">HE CAMPS NEAR TOWN, ON THE OLD CRICK-BANK</A>  . . . . . . .   27
+  <A HREF="#img-031">AND SO LIKEWISE DOES THE FARMHANDS STARE</A> . . . . . . . .   31
+  <A HREF="#img-033">A HOBO VOLUNTARY--TAILPIECE</A>  . . . . . . . . . . . . . .   33
+  <A HREF="#img-034">BE OUR FORTUNES AS THEY MAY--HEADPIECE</A> . . . . . . . . .   34
+  <A HREF="#img-035">BE OUR FORTUNES AS THEY MAY--TAILPIECE</A> . . . . . . . . .   35
+  <A HREF="#img-037">AND WRAPPED IN SHROUDS OF DRIFTING CLOUDS</A>  . . . . . . .   37
+  <A HREF="#img-040">UNCLE SIDNEY TO MARCELLUS--HEADPIECE</A> . . . . . . . . . .   40
+  <A HREF="#img-042">THE POET'S LOVE FOR THE CHILDREN--HEADPIECE</A>  . . . . . .   42
+  <A HREF="#img-043">OF THE ORCHARD-LANDS OF CHILDHOOD</A>  . . . . . . . . . . .   43
+  <A HREF="#img-046">FRIEND OF A WAYWARD HOUR--HEADPIECE</A>  . . . . . . . . . .   46
+  <A HREF="#img-047">FRIEND OF A WAYWARD HOUR--TAILPIECE</A>  . . . . . . . . . .   47
+  <A HREF="#img-048">MY HENRY--HEADPIECE</A>  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .   48
+  <A HREF="#img-049">NOTHIN' THAT BOY WOULDN'T RESK!</A>  . . . . . . . . . . . .   49
+  <A HREF="#img-052">A LETTER TO A FRIEND--HEADPIECE</A>  . . . . . . . . . . . .   52
+  <A HREF="#img-053">A LETTER TO A FRIEND--TAILPIECE</A>  . . . . . . . . . . . .   53
+  <A HREF="#img-054">THE OLD-FASHIONED BIBLE--HEADPIECE</A> . . . . . . . . . . .   54
+  <A HREF="#img-055">THE BLESSED OLD VOLUME</A> . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .   55
+  <A HREF="#img-058">GOOD-BY ER HOWDY-DO--HEADPIECE</A> . . . . . . . . . . . . .   58
+  <A HREF="#img-059">GOOD-BY ER HOWDY-DO--TAILPIECE</A> . . . . . . . . . . . . .   59
+  <A HREF="#img-061">"THE LITTLE MAN IN THE TINSHOP"--HEADPIECE</A> . . . . . . .   61
+  <A HREF="#img-063">THE ORCHESTRA, WITH ITS MELODY</A> . . . . . . . . . . . . .   63
+  <A HREF="#img-066">TOMMY SMITH--HEADPIECE</A> . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .   66
+  <A HREF="#img-072">OUR OLD FRIEND NEVERFAIL--HEADPIECE</A>  . . . . . . . . . .   72
+  <A HREF="#img-075">HIS MOUTH IS A GRIN WITH THE CORNERS TUCKED IN</A> . . . . .   75
+  <A HREF="#img-078">ART AND POETRY--HEADPIECE</A>  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .   78
+  <A HREF="#img-080">DOWN TO THE CAPITAL--HEADPIECE</A> . . . . . . . . . . . . .   80
+  <A HREF="#img-083">TO OLD ONE-LEGGED CHAPS, LIKE ME</A> . . . . . . . . . . . .   83
+</PRE>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="Pxviii"></A>xviii}</SPAN>
+
+<PRE STYLE="font-family: Courier New; font-size: 10pt">
+  <A HREF="#img-087">"IT'S ALL JES' ARTIFICIAL, THIS-ERE HIGH-PRICED
+      LIFE OF OURS"</A>  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .   87
+  <A HREF="#img-089">OLD CHUMS--HEADPIECE</A> . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .   89
+  <A HREF="#img-090">SCOTTY--HEADPIECE</A>  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .   90
+  <A HREF="#img-092">THE OLD MAN--HEADPIECE</A> . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .   92
+  <A HREF="#img-095">IN YOUR REPOSEFUL GAZE</A> . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .   95
+  <A HREF="#img-099">THE OLD MAN--TAILPIECE</A> . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .   99
+  <A HREF="#img-101">THE ANCIENT PRINTERMAN--HEADPIECE</A>  . . . . . . . . . . .  101
+  <A HREF="#img-103">O PRINTERMAN OF SALLOW FACE</A>  . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  103
+  <A HREF="#img-105">THE OLD MAN AND JIM--HEADPIECE</A> . . . . . . . . . . . . .  105
+  <A HREF="#img-107">"WELL, GOOD-BY, JIM"</A> . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  107
+  <A HREF="#img-109">THE OLD MAN AND JIM--TAILPIECE</A> . . . . . . . . . . . . .  109
+  <A HREF="#img-110">THE OLD MAN AND JIM--TAILPIECE</A> . . . . . . . . . . . . .  110
+  <A HREF="#img-111">THE OLD MAN AND JIM--TAILPIECE</A> . . . . . . . . . . . . .  111
+  <A HREF="#img-112">THE OLD SCHOOL-CHUM--HEADPIECE</A> . . . . . . . . . . . . .  112
+  <A HREF="#img-113">THE OLD SCHOOL-CHUM--TAILPIECE</A> . . . . . . . . . . . . .  113
+  <A HREF="#img-114">MY JOLLY FRIEND'S SECRET--HEADPIECE</A>  . . . . . . . . . .  114
+  <A HREF="#img-115">AH, FRIEND OF MINE, HOW GOES IT</A>  . . . . . . . . . . . .  115
+  <A HREF="#img-119">MY JOLLY FRIEND'S SECRET--TAILPIECE</A>  . . . . . . . . . .  119
+  <A HREF="#img-121">THE OLD BAND--HEADPIECE</A>  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  121
+  <A HREF="#img-123">I WANT TO HEAR THE OLD BAND PLAY</A> . . . . . . . . . . . .  123
+  <A HREF="#img-125">THE OLD BAND--TAILPIECE</A>  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  125
+  <A HREF="#img-126">MY FRIEND--HEADPIECE</A> . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  126
+  <A HREF="#img-127">MY FRIEND--TAILPIECE</A> . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  127
+  <A HREF="#img-128">THE TRAVELING MAN--HEADPIECE</A> . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  128
+  <A HREF="#img-129">WHO HAVE MET HIM WITH SMILES AND WITH CHEER</A>  . . . . . .  129
+  <A HREF="#img-132">DAN O'SULLIVAN--HEADPIECE</A>  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  132
+  <A HREF="#img-133">DAN O'SULLIVAN--TAILPIECE</A>  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  133
+  <A HREF="#img-134">MY OLD FRIEND--HEADPIECE</A> . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  134
+  <A HREF="#img-136">OLD JOHN HENRY--HEADPIECE</A>  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  136
+  <A HREF="#img-137">A SMILIN' FACE AND A HEARTY HAND</A> . . . . . . . . . . . .  137
+  <A HREF="#img-141">CHRISTMAS GREETING--HEADPIECE</A>  . . . . . . . . . . . . .  141
+  <A HREF="#img-142">ABE MARTIN--HEADPIECE</A>  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  142
+  <A HREF="#img-143">HIS MOUTH, LIKE HIS PIPE, 'S ALLUS GOIN'</A> . . . . . . . .  143
+  <A HREF="#img-146">THE LITTLE OLD POEM THAT NOBODY READS--HEADPIECE</A> . . . .  146
+  <A HREF="#img-147">THE LITTLE OLD POEM THAT NOBODY READS--TAILPIECE</A> . . . .  147
+  <A HREF="#img-148">IN THE AFTERNOON--HEADPIECE</A>  . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  148
+  <A HREF="#img-149">YOU IN THE HAMMOCK; AND I, NEAR BY</A> . . . . . . . . . . .  149
+  <A HREF="#img-151">IN THE AFTERNOON--TAILPIECE</A>  . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  151
+</PRE>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="Pxix"></A>xix}</SPAN>
+
+<PRE STYLE="font-family: Courier New; font-size: 10pt">
+  <A HREF="#img-153">HERR WEISER--HEADPIECE</A> . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  153
+  <A HREF="#img-155">AND LILY AND ASTER AND COLUMBINE</A> . . . . . . . . . . . .  155
+  <A HREF="#img-157">HERR WEISER--TAILPIECE</A> . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  157
+  <A HREF="#img-158">A MOTHER-SONG--HEADPIECE</A> . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  158
+  <A HREF="#img-160">WHAT "OLD SANTA" OVERHEARD--HEADPIECE</A>  . . . . . . . . .  160
+  <A HREF="#img-161">WHAT "OLD SANTA" OVERHEARD--TAILPIECE</A>  . . . . . . . . .  161
+  <A HREF="#img-163">WHEN OLD JACK DIED--HEADPIECE</A>  . . . . . . . . . . . . .  163
+  <A HREF="#img-165">WE COULDN'T ONLY CRY WHEN OLD JACK DIED</A>  . . . . . . . .  165
+  <A HREF="#img-167">WHEN OLD JACK DIED--TAILPIECE</A>  . . . . . . . . . . . . .  167
+  <A HREF="#img-168">THAT NIGHT--HEADPIECE</A>  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  168
+  <A HREF="#img-169">THAT NIGHT--TAILPIECE</A>  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  169
+  <A HREF="#img-170">TO ALMON KEEFER--HEADPIECE</A> . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  170
+  <A HREF="#img-171">UNDER "THE OLD SWEET APPLE TREE"</A> . . . . . . . . . . . .  171
+  <A HREF="#img-173">TO ALMON KEEFER--TAILPIECE</A> . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  173
+  <A HREF="#img-174">TO THE QUIET OBSERVER--HEADPIECE</A> . . . . . . . . . . . .  174
+  <A HREF="#img-175">TO THE QUIET OBSERVER--TAILPIECE</A> . . . . . . . . . . . .  175
+  <A HREF="#img-176">REACH YOUR HAND TO ME--HEADPIECE</A> . . . . . . . . . . . .  176
+  <A HREF="#img-177">REACH YOUR HAND TO ME, MY FRIEND</A> . . . . . . . . . . . .  177
+  <A HREF="#img-179">REACH YOUR HAND TO ME--TAILPIECE</A> . . . . . . . . . . . .  179
+  <A HREF="#img-180">THE DEAD JOKE AND THE FUNNY MAN--HEADPIECE</A> . . . . . . .  180
+  <A HREF="#img-181">THE DEAD JOKE AND THE FUNNY MAN--TAILPIECE</A> . . . . . . .  181
+  <A HREF="#img-182">AMERICA'S THANKSGIVING--HEADPIECE</A>  . . . . . . . . . . .  182
+  <A HREF="#img-185">OLD INDIANY--HEADPIECE</A> . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  185
+  <A HREF="#img-187">BUT, FELLERS, SHE'S A LEAKY STATE!</A> . . . . . . . . . . .  187
+  <A HREF="#img-190">OLD INDIANY--TAILPIECE</A> . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  190
+</PRE>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="chap023"></A>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P23"></A>23}</SPAN>
+
+<H1 ALIGN="center">
+RILEY SONGS OF FRIENDSHIP
+</H1>
+
+<BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="img-023"></A>
+<IMG CLASS="imgright" SRC="images/img-023.jpg" ALT="Back from town--headpiece" BORDER="0" WIDTH="214" HEIGHT="257">
+
+<BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+BACK FROM TOWN
+</H3>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+Old friends allus is the best,<BR>
+Halest-like and heartiest:<BR>
+Knowed us first, and don't allow<BR>
+We're so blame much better now!<BR>
+They was standin' at the bars<BR>
+When we grabbed "the kivvered kyars"<BR>
+And lit out fer town, to make<BR>
+Money&mdash;and that old mistake!<BR>
+</P>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P24"></A>24}</SPAN>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+We thought then the world we went<BR>
+Into beat "The Settlement,"<BR>
+And the friends 'at we'd make there<BR>
+Would beat any anywhere!&mdash;<BR>
+And they do&mdash;fer that's their biz:<BR>
+They beat all the friends they is&mdash;<BR>
+'Cept the raal old friends like you<BR>
+'At staid at home, like I'd ort to!<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+W'y, of all the good things yit<BR>
+I ain't shet of, is to quit<BR>
+Business, and git back to sheer<BR>
+These old comforts waitin' here&mdash;<BR>
+These old friends; and these old hands<BR>
+'At a feller understands;<BR>
+These old winter nights, and old<BR>
+Young-folks chased in out the cold!<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+Sing "Hard Times'll come ag'in<BR>
+No More!" and neighbors all jine in!<BR>
+Here's a feller come from town<BR>
+Wants that-air old fiddle down<BR>
+From the chimbly!&mdash;Git the floor<BR>
+Cleared fer one cowtillion more!&mdash;<BR>
+It's poke the kitchen fire, says he,<BR>
+And shake a friendly leg with me!<BR>
+</P>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="chap025"></A>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P25"></A>25}</SPAN>
+
+<A NAME="img-025"></A>
+<IMG CLASS="imgright" SRC="images/img-025.jpg" ALT="A hobo voluntary--headpiece" BORDER="0" WIDTH="183" HEIGHT="209">
+
+<BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+A HOBO VOLUNTARY<BR>
+</H3>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+Oh, the hobo's life is a roving life;<BR>
+It robs pretty maids of their heart's delight&mdash;<BR>
+It causes them to weep and it causes them to mourn<BR>
+For the life of a hobo, never to return.<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+The hobo's heart it is light and free,<BR>
+Though it's Sweethearts all, farewell, to thee!&mdash;<BR>
+Farewell to thee, for it's far away<BR>
+The homeless hobo's footsteps stray.<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+In the morning bright, or the dusk so dim,<BR>
+It's any path is the one for him!<BR>
+He'll take his chances, long or short,<BR>
+For to meet his fate with a valiant heart.<BR>
+</P>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P26"></A>26}</SPAN>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+Oh, it's beauty mops out the sidetracked-car,<BR>
+And it's beauty-beaut' at the pigs-feet bar;<BR>
+But when his drinks and his eats is made<BR>
+Then the hobo shunts off down the grade.<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+He camps near town, on the old crick-bank,<BR>
+And he cuts his name on the water-tank&mdash;<BR>
+He cuts his name and the hobo sign,&mdash;<BR>
+"Bound for the land of corn and wine!"<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+(Oh, it's I like friends that he'ps me through,<BR>
+And the friends also that he'ps you, too,&mdash;<BR>
+Oh, I like all friends, 'most every kind<BR>
+But I don't like friends that don't like mine.)<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+There's friends of mine, when they gits the hunch,<BR>
+Comes a swarmin' in, the blasted bunch,&mdash;<BR>
+"Clog-step Jonny" and "Flat-wheel Bill"<BR>
+And "Brockey Ike" from Circleville.<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+With "Cooney Ward" and "Sikes the Kid"<BR>
+And old "Pop Lawson"&mdash;the best we had&mdash;<BR>
+The rankest mug and the worst for lush<BR>
+And the dandiest of the whole blame push.<BR>
+</P>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P27"></A>27}</SPAN>
+
+<A NAME="img-027"></A>
+<CENTER>
+<IMG CLASS="imgcenter" SRC="images/img-027.jpg" ALT="He camps near town on the old crick-bank" BORDER="0" WIDTH="416" HEIGHT="559">
+</CENTER>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P29"></A>29}</SPAN>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+Oh, them's the times I remembers best<BR>
+When I took my chance with all the rest,<BR>
+And hogged fried chicken and roastin' ears, too,<BR>
+And sucked cheroots when the feed was through.<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+Oh, the hobo's way is the railroad line,<BR>
+And it's little he cares for schedule time;<BR>
+Whatever town he's a-striken for<BR>
+Will wait for him till he gits there.<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+And whatever burg that he lands in<BR>
+There's beauties there just thick for him&mdash;<BR>
+There's beauty at "The Queen's Taste Lunch-stand," sure,<BR>
+Or "The Last Chance Boardin' House" back-door.<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+He's lonesome-like, so he gits run in,<BR>
+To git the hang o' the world ag'in;<BR>
+But the laundry circles he moves in there<BR>
+Makes him sigh for the country air,&mdash;<BR>
+</P>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P30"></A>30}</SPAN>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+So it's Good-by gals! and he takes his chance<BR>
+And wads hisself through the workhouse-fence:<BR>
+He sheds the town and the railroad, too,<BR>
+And strikes mud roads for a change of view.<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+The jay drives by on his way to town,<BR>
+And looks on the hobo in high scorn,<BR>
+And so likewise does the farmhands stare&mdash;<BR>
+But what the haids does the hobo care!<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+He hits the pike, in the summer's heat<BR>
+Or the winter's cold, with its snow and sleet&mdash;<BR>
+With a boot on one foot, and one shoe&mdash;<BR>
+Or he goes barefoot, if he chooses to.<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+But he likes the best, when the days is warm,<BR>
+With his bum Prince-Albert on his arm&mdash;<BR>
+He likes to size up a farmhouse where<BR>
+They haint no man nor bulldog there.<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+Oh, he gits his meals wherever he can,<BR>
+So natchurly he's a handy man&mdash;<BR>
+He's a handy man both day and night,<BR>
+And he's always blest with an appetite!<BR>
+</P>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P31"></A>31}</SPAN>
+
+<A NAME="img-031"></A>
+<CENTER>
+<IMG CLASS="imgcenter" SRC="images/img-031.jpg" ALT="And so likewise do the farmhands stare" BORDER="0" WIDTH="405" HEIGHT="569">
+</CENTER>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P33"></A>33}</SPAN>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+A tin o' black coffee, and a rhuburb pie&mdash;<BR>
+Be they old and cold as charity&mdash;<BR>
+They're hot-stuff enough for the pore hobo,<BR>
+And it's "Thanks, kind lady, for to treat me so!"<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+Then he fills his pipe with a stub cigar<BR>
+And swipes a coal from the kitchen fire,<BR>
+And the hired girl says, in a smilin' tone,&mdash;<BR>
+"It's good-by, John, if you call that goin'!"<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+Oh, the hobo's life is a roving life,<BR>
+It robs pretty maids of their heart's delight&mdash;<BR>
+It causes them to weep and it causes them to mourn<BR>
+For the life of a hobo, never to return.<BR>
+</P>
+
+<A NAME="img-033"></A>
+<IMG CLASS="imgright" SRC="images/img-033.jpg" ALT="A hobo voluntary--tailpiece" BORDER="0" WIDTH="200" HEIGHT="154">
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="chap034"></A>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P34"></A>34}</SPAN>
+
+<A NAME="img-034"></A>
+<CENTER>
+<IMG CLASS="imgcenter" SRC="images/img-034.jpg" ALT="Be our fortunes as they may--headpiece" BORDER="0" WIDTH="188" HEIGHT="234">
+</CENTER>
+
+<BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+BE OUR FORTUNES AS THEY MAY<BR>
+</H3>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+Be our fortunes as they may,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Touched with loss or sorrow,</SPAN><BR>
+Saddest eyes that weep to-day<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">May be glad to-morrow.</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+Yesterday the rain was here,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">And the winds were blowing&mdash;</SPAN><BR>
+Sky and earth and atmosphere<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Brimmed and overflowing.</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P35"></A>35}</SPAN>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+But to-day the sun is out,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">And the drear November</SPAN><BR>
+We were then so vexed about<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Now we scarce remember.</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+Yesterday you lost a friend&mdash;<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Bless your heart and love it!&mdash;</SPAN><BR>
+For you scarce could comprehend<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">All the aching of it;&mdash;</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+But I sing to you and say:<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Let the lost friend sorrow&mdash;</SPAN><BR>
+Here's another come to-day,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Others may to-morrow.</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<A NAME="img-035"></A>
+<CENTER>
+<IMG CLASS="imgcenter" SRC="images/img-035.jpg" ALT="Be our fortunes as they may--tailpiece" BORDER="0" WIDTH="173" HEIGHT="164">
+</CENTER>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="chap036"></A>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P36"></A>36}</SPAN>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+I SMOKE MY PIPE<BR>
+</H3>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+I can't extend to every friend<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">In need a helping hand&mdash;</SPAN><BR>
+No matter though I wish it so,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">'Tis not as Fortune planned;</SPAN><BR>
+But haply may I fancy they<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Are men of different stripe</SPAN><BR>
+Than others think who hint and wink,&mdash;<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">And so&mdash;I smoke my pipe!</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+A golden coal to crown the bowl&mdash;<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">My pipe and I alone,&mdash;</SPAN><BR>
+I sit and muse with idler views<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Perchance than I should own:&mdash;</SPAN><BR>
+It might be worse to own the purse<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Whose glutted bowels gripe</SPAN><BR>
+In little qualms of stinted alms;<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">And so I smoke my pipe.</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P37"></A>37}</SPAN>
+
+<A NAME="img-037"></A>
+<CENTER>
+<IMG CLASS="imgcenter" SRC="images/img-037.jpg" ALT="And wrapped in shrouds of drifting clouds" BORDER="0" WIDTH="403" HEIGHT="565">
+</CENTER>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P39"></A>39}</SPAN>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+And if inclined to moor my mind<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">And cast the anchor Hope,</SPAN><BR>
+A puff of breath will put to death<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">The morbid misanthrope</SPAN><BR>
+That lurks inside&mdash;as errors hide<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">In standing forms of type</SPAN><BR>
+To mar at birth some line of worth;<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">And so I smoke my pipe.</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+The subtle stings misfortune flings<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Can give me little pain</SPAN><BR>
+When my narcotic spell has wrought<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">This quiet in my brain:</SPAN><BR>
+When I can waste the past in taste<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">So luscious and so ripe</SPAN><BR>
+That like an elf I hug myself;<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">And so I smoke my pipe.</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+And wrapped in shrouds of drifting clouds<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">I watch the phantom's flight,</SPAN><BR>
+Till alien eyes from Paradise<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Smile on me as I write:</SPAN><BR>
+And I forgive the wrongs that live,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">As lightly as I wipe</SPAN><BR>
+Away the tear that rises here;<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">And so I smoke my pipe.</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="chap040"></A>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P40"></A>40}</SPAN>
+
+<A NAME="img-040"></A>
+<IMG CLASS="imgleft" SRC="images/img-040.jpg" ALT="Uncle Sidney to Marcellus--headpiece" BORDER="0" WIDTH="124" HEIGHT="208">
+
+<BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+UNCLE SIDNEY TO MARCELLUS<BR>
+</H3>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+Marcellus, won't you tell us&mdash;<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Truly tell us, if you can,&mdash;</SPAN><BR>
+What will you be, Marcellus,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">When you get to be a man?</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+You turn, with never answer<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">But to the band that plays.&mdash;</SPAN><BR>
+O rapt and eerie dancer,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">What of your future days?</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+Far in the years before us<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">We dreamers see your fame,</SPAN><BR>
+While song and praise in chorus<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Make music of your name.</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+And though our dreams foretell us<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">As only visions can,</SPAN><BR>
+You must prove it, O Marcellus,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">When you get to be a man!</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="chap041"></A>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P41"></A>41}</SPAN>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+A SONG BY UNCLE SIDNEY<BR>
+</H3>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+O were I not a clod, intent<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">On being just an earthly thing,</SPAN><BR>
+I'd be that rare embodiment<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Of Heart and Spirit, Voice and Wing,</SPAN><BR>
+With pure, ecstatic, rapture-sent,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Divinely-tender twittering</SPAN><BR>
+That Echo swoons to re-present,&mdash;<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">A bluebird in the Spring.</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="chap042"></A>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P42"></A>42}</SPAN>
+
+<A NAME="img-042"></A>
+<CENTER>
+<IMG CLASS="imgcenter" SRC="images/img-042.jpg" ALT="The poet's love for the children--headpiece" BORDER="0" WIDTH="215" HEIGHT="196">
+</CENTER>
+
+<BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+THE POET'S LOVE FOR THE CHILDREN<BR>
+</H3>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+Kindly and warm and tender,<BR>
+He nestled each childish palm<BR>
+So close in his own that his touch was a prayer<BR>
+And his speech a blessed psalm.<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+He has turned from the marvelous pages<BR>
+Of many an alien tome&mdash;<BR>
+Haply come down from Olivet,<BR>
+Or out from the gates of Rome&mdash;<BR>
+</P>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P43"></A>43}</SPAN>
+
+<A NAME="img-043"></A>
+<CENTER>
+<IMG CLASS="imgcenter" SRC="images/img-043.jpg" ALT="Of the orchard-lands of childhood" BORDER="0" WIDTH="401" HEIGHT="542">
+</CENTER>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P45"></A>45}</SPAN>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+Set sail o'er the seas between him<BR>
+And each little beckoning hand<BR>
+That fluttered about in the meadows<BR>
+And groves of his native land,&mdash;<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+Fluttered and flashed on his vision<BR>
+As, in the glimmering light<BR>
+Of the orchard-lands of childhood,<BR>
+The blossoms of pink and white.<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+And there have been sobs in his bosom,<BR>
+As out on the shores he stept,<BR>
+And many a little welcomer<BR>
+Has wondered why he wept.&mdash;<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+That was because, O children,<BR>
+Ye might not always be<BR>
+The same that the Savior's arms were wound<BR>
+About, in Galilee.<BR>
+</P>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="chap046"></A>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P46"></A>46}</SPAN>
+
+<A NAME="img-046"></A>
+<CENTER>
+<IMG CLASS="imgcenter" SRC="images/img-046.jpg" ALT="Friend of a wayward hour--headpiece" BORDER="0" WIDTH="201" HEIGHT="206">
+</CENTER>
+
+<BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+FRIEND OF A WAYWARD HOUR<BR>
+</H3>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+Friend of a wayward hour, you came<BR>
+Like some good ghost, and went the same;<BR>
+And I within the haunted place<BR>
+Sit smiling on your vanished face,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">And talking with&mdash;your name.</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+But thrice the pressure of your hand&mdash;<BR>
+First hail&mdash;congratulations&mdash;and<BR>
+Your last "God bless you!" as the train<BR>
+That brought you snatched you back again<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Into the unknown land.</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P47"></A>47}</SPAN>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+"God bless me?"  Why, your very prayer<BR>
+Was answered ere you asked it there,<BR>
+I know&mdash;for when you came to lend<BR>
+Me your kind hand, and call me friend,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">God blessed me unaware.</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<A NAME="img-047"></A>
+<IMG CLASS="imgright" SRC="images/img-047.jpg" ALT="Friend of a wayward hour--tailpiece" BORDER="0" WIDTH="215" HEIGHT="204">
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="chap048"></A>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P48"></A>48}</SPAN>
+
+<A NAME="img-048"></A>
+<CENTER>
+<IMG CLASS="imgcenter" SRC="images/img-048.jpg" ALT="My Henry--headpiece" BORDER="0" WIDTH="246" HEIGHT="260">
+</CENTER>
+
+<BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+MY HENRY<BR>
+</H3>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+He's jes' a great, big, awk'ard, hulkin'<BR>
+Feller,&mdash;humped, and sort o' sulkin'&mdash;<BR>
+Like, and ruther still-appearin'&mdash;<BR>
+Kind-as-ef he wuzn't keerin'<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Whether school helt out er not&mdash;</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">That's my Henry, to a dot!</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+Allus kind o' liked him&mdash;whether<BR>
+Childern, er growed-up together!<BR>
+Fifteen year' ago and better,<BR>
+'Fore he ever knowed a letter,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Run acrosst the little fool</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">In my Primer-class at school.</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P49"></A>49}</SPAN>
+
+<A NAME="img-049"></A>
+<CENTER>
+<IMG CLASS="imgcenter" SRC="images/img-049.jpg" ALT="Nothin' that boy wouldn't resk!" BORDER="0" WIDTH="404" HEIGHT="555">
+</CENTER>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P51"></A>51}</SPAN>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+When the Teacher wuzn't lookin',<BR>
+He'd be th'owin' wads; er crookin'<BR>
+Pins; er sprinklin' pepper, more'n<BR>
+Likely, on the stove; er borin'<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Gimlet-holes up thue his desk&mdash;</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Nothin' <I>that</I> boy wouldn't resk!</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+But, somehow, as I was goin'<BR>
+On to say, he seemed so knowin',<BR>
+<I>Other</I> ways, and cute and cunnin'&mdash;<BR>
+Allus wuz a notion runnin'<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Thue my giddy, fool-head he</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Jes' had be'n cut out fer me!</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+Don't go much on <I>prophesyin'</I>,<BR>
+But last night whilse I wuz fryin'<BR>
+Supper, with that man a-pitchin'<BR>
+Little Marthy round the kitchen,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Think-says-I, "Them baby's eyes</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Is my Henry's, jes' p'cise!"</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="chap052"></A>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P52"></A>52}</SPAN>
+
+<A NAME="img-052"></A>
+<IMG CLASS="imgleft" SRC="images/img-052.jpg" ALT="A letter to a friend--headpiece" BORDER="0" WIDTH="179" HEIGHT="266">
+
+<BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+A LETTER TO A FRIEND<BR>
+</H3>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+The past is like a story<BR>
+I have listened to in dreams<BR>
+That vanished in the glory<BR>
+Of the Morning's early gleams;<BR>
+And&mdash;at my shadow glancing&mdash;<BR>
+I feel a loss of strength,<BR>
+As the Day of Life advancing<BR>
+Leaves it shorn of half its length.<BR>
+</P>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P53"></A>53}</SPAN>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+But it's all in vain to worry<BR>
+At the rapid race of Time&mdash;<BR>
+And he flies in such a flurry<BR>
+When I trip him with a rhyme,<BR>
+I'll bother him no longer<BR>
+Than to thank you for the thought<BR>
+That "my fame is growing stronger<BR>
+As you really think it ought."<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+And though I fall below it,<BR>
+I might know as much of mirth<BR>
+To live and die a poet<BR>
+Of unacknowledged worth;<BR>
+For Fame is but a vagrant&mdash;<BR>
+Though a loyal one and brave,<BR>
+And his laurels ne'er so fragrant<BR>
+As when scattered o'er the grave.<BR>
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<A NAME="img-053"></A>
+<IMG CLASS="imgright" SRC="images/img-053.jpg" ALT="A letter to a friend--tailpiece" BORDER="0" WIDTH="206" HEIGHT="162">
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="chap054"></A>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P55"></A>55}</SPAN>
+
+<A NAME="img-054"></A>
+<IMG CLASS="imgleft" SRC="images/img-054.jpg" ALT="The old-fashioned Bible--headpiece" BORDER="0" WIDTH="249" HEIGHT="196">
+
+<BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+THE OLD-FASHIONED BIBLE<BR>
+</H3>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+How dear to my heart are the scenes of my childhood<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">That now but in mem'ry I sadly review;</SPAN><BR>
+The old meeting-house at the edge of the wildwood,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">The rail fence, and horses all tethered thereto;</SPAN><BR>
+The low, sloping roof, and the bell in the steeple,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">The doves that came fluttering out overhead</SPAN><BR>
+As it solemnly gathered the God-fearing people<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">To hear the old Bible my grandfather read.</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">The old-fashioned Bible&mdash;</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 3em">The dust-covered Bible&mdash;</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">The leathern-bound Bible my grandfather read.</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P56"></A>56}</SPAN>
+
+<A NAME="img-055"></A>
+<CENTER>
+<IMG CLASS="imgcenter" SRC="images/img-055.jpg" ALT="The blessed old volume" BORDER="0" WIDTH="399" HEIGHT="549">
+</CENTER>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P57"></A>57}</SPAN>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+The blessed old volume!  The face bent above it&mdash;<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">As now I recall it&mdash;is gravely severe,</SPAN><BR>
+Though the reverent eye that droops downward to love it<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Makes grander the text through the lens of a tear,</SPAN><BR>
+And, as down his features it trickles and glistens,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">The cough of the deacon is stilled, and his head</SPAN><BR>
+Like a haloed patriarch's leans as he listens<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">To hear the old Bible my grandfather read.</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">The old-fashioned Bible&mdash;</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 3em">The dust-covered Bible&mdash;</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">The leathern-bound Bible my grandfather read.</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+Ah! who shall look backward with scorn and derision<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">And scoff the old book though it uselessly lies</SPAN><BR>
+In the dust of the past, while this newer revision<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Lisps on of a hope and a home in the skies?</SPAN><BR>
+Shall the voice of the Master be stifled and riven?<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Shall we hear but a tithe of the words He has said,</SPAN><BR>
+When so long He has, listening, leaned out of Heaven<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">To hear the old Bible my grandfather read?</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">The old-fashioned Bible&mdash;</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 3em">The dust-covered Bible&mdash;</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">The leathern-bound Bible my grandfather read.</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="chap058"></A>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P58"></A>58}</SPAN>
+
+<A NAME="img-058"></A>
+<IMG CLASS="imgleft" SRC="images/img-058.jpg" ALT="Good-by er howdy-do--headpiece" BORDER="0" WIDTH="259" HEIGHT="166">
+
+<BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+GOOD-BY ER HOWDY-DO<BR>
+</H3>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+Say good-by er howdy-do&mdash;<BR>
+What's the odds betwixt the two?<BR>
+Comin'&mdash;goin', ev'ry day&mdash;<BR>
+Best friends first to go away&mdash;<BR>
+Grasp of hands you'd ruther hold<BR>
+Than their weight in solid gold<BR>
+Slips their grip while greetin' you.&mdash;<BR>
+Say good-by er howdy-do!<BR>
+</P>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P59"></A>59}</SPAN>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+Howdy-do, and then, good-by&mdash;<BR>
+Mixes jes' like laugh and cry;<BR>
+Deaths and births, and worst and best,<BR>
+Tangled their contrariest;<BR>
+Ev'ry jinglin' weddin'-bell<BR>
+Skeerin' up some funer'l knell.&mdash;<BR>
+Here's my song, and there's your sigh.&mdash;<BR>
+Howdy-do, and then, good-by!<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+Say good-by er howdy-do&mdash;<BR>
+Jes' the same to me and you;<BR>
+'Taint worth while to make no fuss,<BR>
+'Cause the job's put up on us!<BR>
+Some One's runnin' this concern<BR>
+That's got nothin' else to learn:<BR>
+Ef <I>He's</I> willin', we'll pull through&mdash;<BR>
+Say good-by er howdy-do!<BR>
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<A NAME="img-059"></A>
+<IMG CLASS="imgright" SRC="images/img-059.jpg" ALT="Good-by er howdy-do--tailpiece" BORDER="0" WIDTH="146" HEIGHT="170">
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="chap060"></A>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P60"></A>60}</SPAN>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+WHEN WE THREE MEET<BR>
+</H3>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+When we three meet?  Ah! friend of mine<BR>
+Whose verses well and flow as wine,&mdash;<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">My thirsting fancy thou dost fill</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">With draughts delicious, sweeter still</SPAN><BR>
+Since tasted by those lips of thine.<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+I pledge thee, through the chill sunshine<BR>
+Of autumn, with a warmth divine,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Thrilled through as only I shall thrill</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">When we three meet.</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+I pledge thee, if we fast or dine,<BR>
+We yet shall loosen, line by line,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Old ballads, and the blither trill</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Of our-time singers&mdash;for there will</SPAN><BR>
+Be with us all the Muses nine<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">When we three meet.</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="chap061"></A>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P61"></A>61}</SPAN>
+
+<A NAME="img-061"></A>
+<CENTER>
+<IMG CLASS="imgcenter" SRC="images/img-061.jpg" ALT="&quot;The little man in the tinshop&quot;--headpiece" BORDER="0" WIDTH="303" HEIGHT="270">
+</CENTER>
+
+<BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+"THE LITTLE MAN IN THE TINSHOP"<BR>
+</H3>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+When I was a little boy, long ago,<BR>
+And spoke of the theater as the "show,"<BR>
+The first one that I went to see,<BR>
+Mother's brother it was took me&mdash;<BR>
+(My uncle, of course, though he seemed to be<BR>
+Only a boy&mdash;I loved him so!)<BR>
+And ah, how pleasant he made it all!<BR>
+And the things he knew that <I>I</I> should know!&mdash;<BR>
+The stage, the "drop," and the frescoed wall;<BR>
+The sudden flash of the lights; and oh,<BR>
+The orchestra, with its melody,<BR>
+And the lilt and jingle and jubilee<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Of "The Little Man in the Tinshop"!</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P62"></A>62}</SPAN>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+For Uncle showed me the "Leader" there,<BR>
+With his pale, bleak forehead and long, black hair;<BR>
+Showed me the "Second," and "'Cello," and "Bass,"<BR>
+And the "B-Flat," pouting and puffing his face<BR>
+At the little end of the horn he blew<BR>
+Silvery bubbles of music through;<BR>
+And he coined me names of them, each in turn,<BR>
+Some comical name that I laughed to learn,<BR>
+Clean on down to the last and best,&mdash;<BR>
+The lively little man, never at rest,<BR>
+Who hides away at the end of the string,<BR>
+And tinkers and plays on everything,&mdash;<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">That's "The Little Man in the Tinshop"!</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+Raking a drum like a rattle of hail,<BR>
+Clinking a cymbal or castanet;<BR>
+Chirping a twitter or sending a wail<BR>
+Through a piccolo that thrills me yet;<BR>
+Reeling ripples of riotous bells,<BR>
+And tipsy tinkles of triangles&mdash;<BR>
+Wrangled and tangled in skeins of sound<BR>
+Till it seemed that my very soul spun round,<BR>
+As I leaned, in a breathless joy, toward my<BR>
+Radiant uncle, who snapped his eye<BR>
+And said, with the courtliest wave of his hand,<BR>
+"Why, that little master of all the band<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Is 'The Little Man in the Tinshop'!</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P63"></A>63}</SPAN>
+
+<A NAME="img-063"></A>
+<CENTER>
+<IMG CLASS="imgcenter" SRC="images/img-063.jpg" ALT="The orchestra, with its melody" BORDER="0" WIDTH="405" HEIGHT="560">
+</CENTER>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P65"></A>65}</SPAN>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+"And I've heard Verdi, the Wonderful,<BR>
+And Paganini, and Ole Bull,<BR>
+Mozart, Handel, and Mendelssohn,<BR>
+And fair Parepa, whose matchless tone<BR>
+Karl, her master, with magic bow,<BR>
+Blent with the angels', and held her so<BR>
+Tranced till the rapturous Infinite&mdash;<BR>
+And I've heard arias, faint and low,<BR>
+From many an operatic light<BR>
+Glimmering on my swimming sight<BR>
+Dimmer and dimmer, until, at last,<BR>
+I still sit, holding my roses fast<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">For 'The Little Man in the Tinshop.'"</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+Oho! my Little Man, joy to you&mdash;<BR>
+And <I>yours</I>&mdash;and <I>theirs</I>&mdash;your lifetime through!<BR>
+Though <I>I've</I> heard melodies, boy and man,<BR>
+Since first "the show" of my life began,<BR>
+Never yet have I listened to<BR>
+Sadder, madder, or gladder glees<BR>
+Than your unharmonied harmonies;<BR>
+For yours is the music that appeals<BR>
+To all the fervor the boy's heart feels&mdash;<BR>
+All his glories, his wildest cheers,<BR>
+His bravest hopes, and his brightest tears;<BR>
+And so, with his first bouquet, he kneels<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">To "The Little Man in the Tinshop."</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="chap066"></A>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P66"></A>66}</SPAN>
+
+<A NAME="img-066"></A>
+<IMG CLASS="imgleft" SRC="images/img-066.jpg" ALT="Tommy Smith--headpiece" BORDER="0" WIDTH="154" HEIGHT="233">
+
+<BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+TOMMY SMITH<BR>
+</H3>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+Dimple-cheeked and rosy-lipped,<BR>
+With his cap-rim backward tipped,<BR>
+Still in fancy I can see<BR>
+Little Tommy smile on me&mdash;<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Little Tommy Smith.</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+Little unsung Tommy Smith&mdash;<BR>
+Scarce a name to rhyme it with;<BR>
+Yet most tenderly to me<BR>
+Something sings unceasingly&mdash;<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Little Tommy Smith.</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P67"></A>67}</SPAN>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+On the verge of some far land<BR>
+Still forever does he stand,<BR>
+With his cap-rim rakishly<BR>
+Tilted; so he smiles on me&mdash;<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Little Tommy Smith.</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+Elder-blooms contrast the grace<BR>
+Of the rover's radiant face&mdash;<BR>
+Whistling back, in mimicry,<BR>
+"Old&mdash;Bob&mdash;White!" all liquidly&mdash;<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Little Tommy Smith.</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+O my jaunty statuette<BR>
+Of first love, I see you yet.<BR>
+Though you smile so mistily,<BR>
+It is but through tears I see,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Little Tommy Smith.</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+But, with crown tipped back behind,<BR>
+And the glad hand of the wind<BR>
+Smoothing back your hair, I see<BR>
+Heaven's best angel smile on me,&mdash;<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Little Tommy Smith.</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="chap068"></A>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P68"></A>68}</SPAN>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+TOM VAN ARDEN<BR>
+</H3>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+Tom Van Arden, my old friend,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Our warm fellowship is one</SPAN><BR>
+Far too old to comprehend<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Where its bond was first begun:</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">Mirage-like before my gaze</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">Gleams a land of other days,</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">Where two truant boys, astray,</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">Dream their lazy lives away.</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+There's a vision, in the guise<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Of Midsummer, where the Past</SPAN><BR>
+Like a weary beggar lies<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">In the shadow Time has cast;</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">And as blends the bloom of trees</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">With the drowsy hum of bees,</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">Fragrant thoughts and murmurs blend,</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">Tom Van Arden, my old friend.</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P69"></A>69}</SPAN>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+Tom Van Arden, my old friend,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">All the pleasures we have known</SPAN><BR>
+Thrill me now as I extend<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">This old hand and grasp your own&mdash;</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">Feeling, in the rude caress,</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">All affection's tenderness;</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">Feeling, though the touch be rough,</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">Our old souls are soft enough.</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+So we'll make a mellow hour:<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Fill your pipe, and taste the wine&mdash;</SPAN><BR>
+Warp your face, if it be sour,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">I can spare a smile from mine;</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">If it sharpen up your wit,</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">Let me feel the edge of it&mdash;</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">I have eager ears to lend,</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">Tom Van Arden, my old friend.</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+Tom Van Arden, my old friend,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Are we "lucky dogs," indeed?</SPAN><BR>
+Are we all that we pretend<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">In the jolly life we lead?&mdash;</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">Bachelors, we must confess,</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">Boast of "single blessedness"</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">To the world, but not alone&mdash;</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">Man's best sorrow is his own!</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P70"></A>70}</SPAN>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+And the saddest truth is this,&mdash;<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Life to us has never proved</SPAN><BR>
+What we tasted in the kiss<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Of the women we have loved:</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">Vainly we congratulate</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">Our escape from such a fate</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">As their lying lips could send,</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">Tom Van Arden, my old friend!</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+Tom Van Arden, my old friend,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Hearts, like fruit upon the stem,</SPAN><BR>
+Ripen sweetest, I contend,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">As the frost falls over them:</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">Your regard for me to-day</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">Makes November taste of May,</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">And through every vein of rhyme</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">Pours the blood of summer-time.</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+When our souls are cramped with youth<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Happiness seems far away</SPAN><BR>
+In the future, while, in truth,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">We look back on it to-day</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">Through our tears, nor dare to boast,&mdash;</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">"Better to have loved and lost!"</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">Broken hearts are hard to mend,</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">Tom Van Arden, my old friend.</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P71"></A>71}</SPAN>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+Tom Van Arden, my old friend,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">I grow prosy, and you tire;</SPAN><BR>
+Fill the glasses while I bend<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">To prod up the failing fire.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">You are restless:&mdash;I presume</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">There's a dampness in the room.&mdash;</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">Much of warmth our nature begs,</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">With rheumatics in our legs!&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+Humph! the legs we used to fling<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Limber-jointed in the dance,</SPAN><BR>
+When we heard the fiddle ring<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Up the curtain of Romance,</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">And in crowded public halls</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">Played with hearts like jugglers' balls.&mdash;</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em"><I>Feats of mountebanks, depend!</I>&mdash;</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">Tom Van Arden, my old friend.</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+Tom Van Arden, my old friend,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Pardon, then, this theme of mine:</SPAN><BR>
+While the firelight leaps to lend<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Higher color to the wine,&mdash;</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">I propose a health to those</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">Who have <I>homes</I>, and home's repose,</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">Wife- and child-love without end!</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;Tom Van Arden, my old friend.</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="chap072"></A>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P72"></A>72}</SPAN>
+
+<A NAME="img-072"></A>
+<IMG CLASS="imgleft" SRC="images/img-072.jpg" ALT="Our old friend Neverfail--headpiece" BORDER="0" WIDTH="208" HEIGHT="233">
+
+<BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+OUR OLD FRIEND NEVERFAIL<BR>
+</H3>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+O it's good to ketch a relative 'at's richer and don't run<BR>
+When you holler out to hold up, and'll joke and have his fun;<BR>
+It's good to hear a man called bad and then find out he's not,<BR>
+Er strike some chap they call lukewarm 'at's really red-hot;<BR>
+</P>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P73"></A>73}</SPAN>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+It's good to know the Devil's painted jes' a leetle black,<BR>
+And it's good to have most anybody pat you on the back;&mdash;<BR>
+But jes' the best thing in the world's our old friend Neverfail,<BR>
+When he wags yer hand as honest as an old dog wags his tail!<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+I like to strike the man I owe the same time I can pay,<BR>
+And take back things I've borried, and su'prise folks thataway;<BR>
+I like to find out that the man I voted fer last fall,<BR>
+That didn't git elected, was a scoundrel after all;<BR>
+I like the man that likes the pore and he'ps 'em when he can;<BR>
+I like to meet a ragged tramp 'at's still a gentleman;<BR>
+But most I like&mdash;with you, my boy&mdash;our old friend Neverfail,<BR>
+When he wags yer hand as honest as an old dog wags his tail!<BR>
+</P>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="chap074"></A>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P74"></A>74}</SPAN>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+MY BACHELOR CHUM<BR>
+</H3>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+A corpulent man is my bachelor chum,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">With a neck apoplectic and thick&mdash;</SPAN><BR>
+An abdomen on him as big as a drum,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">And a fist big enough for the stick;</SPAN><BR>
+With a walk that for grace is clear out of the case,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">And a wobble uncertain&mdash;as though</SPAN><BR>
+His little bow-legs had forgotten the pace<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">That in youth used to favor him so.</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+He is forty, at least; and the top of his head<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Is a bald and a glittering thing;</SPAN><BR>
+And his nose and his two chubby cheeks are as red<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">As three rival roses in spring;</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P75"></A>75}</SPAN>
+
+<A NAME="img-075"></A>
+<CENTER>
+<IMG CLASS="imgcenter" SRC="images/img-075.jpg" ALT="His mouth is a grin with the corners tucked in" BORDER="0" WIDTH="400" HEIGHT="557">
+</CENTER>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P77"></A>77}</SPAN>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+His mouth is a grin with the corners tucked in,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">And his laugh is so breezy and bright</SPAN><BR>
+That it ripples his features and dimples his chin<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">With a billowy look of delight.</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+He is fond of declaring he "don't care a straw"&mdash;<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">That "the ills of a bachelor's life</SPAN><BR>
+Are blisses, compared with a mother-in-law<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">And a boarding-school miss for a wife!"</SPAN><BR>
+So he smokes and he drinks, and he jokes and he winks,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">And he dines and he wines, all alone,</SPAN><BR>
+With a thumb ever ready to snap as he thinks<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Of the comforts he never has known.</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+But up in his den&mdash;(Ah, my bachelor chum!)&mdash;<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">I have sat with him there in the gloom,</SPAN><BR>
+When the laugh of his lips died away to become<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">But a phantom of mirth in the room.</SPAN><BR>
+And to look on him there you would love him, for all<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">His ridiculous ways, and be dumb</SPAN><BR>
+As the little girl-face that smiles down from the wall<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">On the tears of my bachelor chum.</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="chap078"></A>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P78"></A>78}</SPAN>
+
+<A NAME="img-078"></A>
+<IMG CLASS="imgleft" SRC="images/img-078.jpg" ALT="Art and poetry--headpiece" BORDER="0" WIDTH="161" HEIGHT="258">
+
+<BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+ART AND POETRY<BR>
+</H3>
+
+<H4 ALIGN="center">
+TO HOMER DAVENPORT<BR>
+</H4>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+Wess he says, and sort o' grins,<BR>
+"Art and Poetry is twins!<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+"Yit, if I'd my pick, I'd shake<BR>
+Poetry, and no mistake!<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+"Pictures, allus, 'peared to <I>me</I>,<BR>
+Clean laid over Poetry!<BR>
+</P>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P79"></A>79}</SPAN>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+"Let me <I>draw</I>, and then, i jings,<BR>
+I'll not keer a straw who sings.<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+"'F I could draw as you have drew,<BR>
+Like to jes' swop pens with you!<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+"Picture-drawin' 's my pet vision<BR>
+Of Life-work in Lands Elysian.<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+"Pictures is first language we<BR>
+Find hacked out in History.<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+"Most delight we ever took<BR>
+Was in our first Picture-book.<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+"'Thout the funny picture-makers,<BR>
+They'd be lots more undertakers!<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+"Still, as I say, Rhymes and Art<BR>
+'Smighty hard to tell apart.<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+"Songs and pictures go together<BR>
+Same as birds and summer weather."<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+So Wess says, and sort o' grins,<BR>
+"Art and Poetry is twins."<BR>
+</P>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="chap080"></A>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P80"></A>80}</SPAN>
+
+<A NAME="img-080"></A>
+<IMG CLASS="imgleft" SRC="images/img-080.jpg" ALT="Down to the Capital--headpiece" BORDER="0" WIDTH="218" HEIGHT="182">
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+DOWN TO THE CAPITAL<BR>
+</H3>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+I' be'n down to the Capital at Washington, D. C.,<BR>
+Where Congerss meets and passes on the pensions ort to be<BR>
+Allowed to old one-legged chaps, like me, 'at sence the war<BR>
+Don't wear their pants in pairs at all&mdash;and yit how proud we are!<BR>
+</P>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P81"></A>81}</SPAN>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+Old Flukens, from our deestrick, jes' turned in and tuck and made<BR>
+Me stay with him whilse I was there; and longer 'at I stayed<BR>
+The more I kep' a-wantin' jes' to kind o' git away,<BR>
+And yit a-feelin' sociabler with Flukens ever' day.<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+You see I'd got the idy&mdash;and I guess most folks agrees&mdash;<BR>
+'At men as rich as him, you know, kin do jes' what they please;<BR>
+A man worth stacks o' money, and a Congerssman and all,<BR>
+And livin' in a buildin' bigger'n Masonic Hall!<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+Now mind, I'm not a-faultin' Fluke&mdash;he made his money square:<BR>
+We both was Forty-niners, and both bu'sted gittin' there;<BR>
+I weakened and onwindlassed, and he stuck and stayed and made<BR>
+His millions; don't know what <I>I'm</I> worth untel my pension's paid.<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+But I was goin' to tell you&mdash;er a-ruther goin' to try<BR>
+To tell you how he's livin' now: gas burnin' mighty nigh<BR>
+In ever' room about the house; and ever' night, about,<BR>
+Some blame reception goin' on, and money goin' out.<BR>
+</P>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P82"></A>82}</SPAN>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+They's people there from all the world&mdash;jes' ever' kind 'at lives,<BR>
+Injuns and all! and Senators, and Ripresentatives;<BR>
+And girls, you know, jes' dressed in gauze and roses, I declare,<BR>
+And even old men shamblin' round a-waltzin' with 'em there!<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+And bands a-tootin' circus-tunes, 'way in some other room<BR>
+Jes' chokin' full o' hothouse plants and pinies and perfume;<BR>
+And fountains, squirtin' stiddy all the time; and statutes, made<BR>
+Out o' puore marble, 'peared-like, sneakin' round there in the shade.<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+And Fluke he coaxed and begged and pled with me to take a hand<BR>
+And sashay in amongst 'em&mdash;crutch and all, you understand;<BR>
+But when I said how tired I was, and made fer open air,<BR>
+He follered, and tel five o'clock we set a-talkin' there.<BR>
+</P>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P83"></A>83}</SPAN>
+
+<A NAME="img-083"></A>
+<CENTER>
+<IMG CLASS="imgcenter" SRC="images/img-083.jpg" ALT="To old one-legged chaps, like me" BORDER="0" WIDTH="405" HEIGHT="615">
+</CENTER>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P85"></A>85}</SPAN>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+"My God!" says he&mdash;Fluke says to me, "I'm tireder'n you!<BR>
+Don't putt up yer tobacker tel you give a man a chew.<BR>
+Set back a leetle furder in the shadder&mdash;that'll do;<BR>
+I'm tireder'n you, old man; I'm tireder'n you.<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+"You see that-air old dome," says he, "humped up ag'inst the sky?<BR>
+It's grand, first time you see it; but it changes, by and by,<BR>
+And then it stays jes' thataway&mdash;jes' anchored high and dry<BR>
+Betwixt the sky up yender and the achin' of yer eye.<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+"Night's purty; not so purty, though, as what it ust to be<BR>
+When my first wife was livin'.  You remember her?" says he.<BR>
+I nodded-like, and Fluke went on, "I wonder now ef she<BR>
+Knows where I am&mdash;and what I am&mdash;and what I ust to be?<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+"That band in there!&mdash;I ust to think 'at music couldn't wear<BR>
+A feller out the way it does; but that ain't music there&mdash;<BR>
+That's jes' a' <I>imitation</I>, and like ever'thing, I swear,<BR>
+I hear, er see, er tetch, er taste, er tackle anywhere!<BR>
+</P>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P86"></A>86}</SPAN>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+"It's all jes' <I>artificial</I>, this-'ere high-priced life of ours;<BR>
+The theory, it's sweet enough, tel it saps down and sours.<BR>
+They's no <I>home</I> left, ner <I>ties</I> o' home about it.  By the powers,<BR>
+The whole thing's artificialer'n artificial flowers!<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+"And all I want, and could lay down and sob fer, is to know<BR>
+The homely things of homely life; fer instance, jes' to go<BR>
+And set down by the kitchen stove&mdash;Lord! that 'u'd rest me so,&mdash;<BR>
+Jes' set there, like I ust to do, and laugh and joke, you know.<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+"Jes' set there, like I ust to do," says Fluke, a-startin' in,<BR>
+'Peared-like, to say the whole thing over to hisse'f ag'in;<BR>
+Then stopped and turned, and kind o' coughed, and stooped<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">and fumbled fer</SPAN><BR>
+Somepin' o' 'nuther in the grass&mdash;I guess his handkercher.<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+Well, sence I'm back from Washington, where I left Fluke a-still<BR>
+A-leggin' fer me, heart and soul, on that-air pension bill,<BR>
+I've half-way struck the notion, when I think o' wealth and sich,<BR>
+They's nothin' much patheticker'n jes' a-bein' rich!<BR>
+</P>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P87"></A>87}</SPAN>
+
+<A NAME="img-087"></A>
+<CENTER>
+<IMG CLASS="imgcenter" SRC="images/img-087.jpg" ALT="&quot;It's all jes' artificial, this-'ere high-priced life of ours&quot;" BORDER="0" WIDTH="408" HEIGHT="565">
+</CENTER>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="chap089"></A>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P89"></A>89}</SPAN>
+
+<A NAME="img-089"></A>
+<IMG CLASS="imgright" SRC="images/img-089.jpg" ALT="Old chums--headpiece" BORDER="0" WIDTH="257" HEIGHT="210">
+
+<BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+OLD CHUMS<BR>
+</H3>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+"If I die first," my old chum paused to say,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">"Mind! not a whimper of regret:&mdash;instead,</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Laugh and be glad, as I shall.&mdash;Being dead,</SPAN><BR>
+I shall not lodge so very far away<BR>
+But that our mirth shall mingle.&mdash;So, the day<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">The word comes, joy with me."  "I'll try," I said,</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Though, even speaking, sighed and shook my head</SPAN><BR>
+And turned, with misted eyes.  His roundelay<BR>
+Rang gaily on the stair; and then the door<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Opened and&mdash;closed.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.  Yet something of the clear,</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">Hale hope, and force of wholesome faith he had</SPAN><BR>
+Abided with me&mdash;strengthened more and more.&mdash;<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Then&mdash;then they brought his broken body here:</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">And I laughed&mdash;whisperingly&mdash;and we were glad.</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="chap090"></A>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P90"></A>90}</SPAN>
+
+<A NAME="img-090"></A>
+<IMG CLASS="imgleft" SRC="images/img-090.jpg" ALT="Scotty--headpiece" BORDER="0" WIDTH="135" HEIGHT="226">
+
+<BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+SCOTTY<BR>
+</H3>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+Scotty's dead&mdash;Of course he is!<BR>
+Jes' that same old luck of his!&mdash;<BR>
+Ever sence we went cahoots<BR>
+He's be'n first, you bet yer boots!<BR>
+When our schoolin' first begun,<BR>
+Got two whippin's to my one:<BR>
+Stold and smoked the first cigar:<BR>
+Stood up first before the bar,<BR>
+Takin' whisky-straight&mdash;and me<BR>
+Wastin' time on "blackberry"!<BR>
+</P>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P91"></A>91}</SPAN>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+Beat me in the Army, too,<BR>
+And clean on the whole way through!<BR>
+In more scrapes around the camp,<BR>
+And more troubles, on the tramp:<BR>
+Fought and fell there by my side<BR>
+With more bullets in his hide,<BR>
+And more glory in the cause,&mdash;<BR>
+That's the kind o' man <I>he</I> was!<BR>
+Luck liked Scotty more'n me.&mdash;<BR>
+<I>I</I> got married: Scotty, he<BR>
+Never even would <I>apply</I><BR>
+Fer the pension-money I<BR>
+Had to beg of "Uncle Sam"&mdash;<BR>
+That's the kind o' cuss <I>I</I> am!&mdash;<BR>
+Scotty allus first and best&mdash;<BR>
+Me the last and ornriest!<BR>
+Yit fer all that's said and done&mdash;<BR>
+All the battles fought and won&mdash;<BR>
+We hain't prospered, him ner me&mdash;<BR>
+Both as pore as pore could be,&mdash;<BR>
+Though we've allus, up tel now,<BR>
+Stuck together anyhow&mdash;<BR>
+Scotty allus, as I've said,<BR>
+Luckiest&mdash;And now he's <I>dead</I>!<BR>
+</P>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="chap092"></A>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P92"></A>92}</SPAN>
+
+<A NAME="img-092"></A>
+<CENTER>
+<IMG CLASS="imgcenter" SRC="images/img-092.jpg" ALT="The old man--headpiece" BORDER="0" WIDTH="266" HEIGHT="313">
+</CENTER>
+
+<BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+THE OLD MAN<BR>
+</H3>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+Lo! steadfast and serene,<BR>
+In patient pause between<BR>
+The seen and the unseen,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">What gentle zephyrs fan</SPAN><BR>
+Your silken silver hair,&mdash;<BR>
+And what diviner air<BR>
+Breathes round you like a prayer,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Old Man?</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P93"></A>93}</SPAN>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+Can you, in nearer view<BR>
+Of Glory, pierce the blue<BR>
+Of happy Heaven through;<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">And, listening mutely, can</SPAN><BR>
+Your senses, dull to us,<BR>
+Hear Angel-voices thus,<BR>
+In chorus glorious&mdash;<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Old Man?</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+In your reposeful gaze<BR>
+The dusk of Autumn days<BR>
+Is blent with April haze,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">As when of old began</SPAN><BR>
+The bursting of the bud<BR>
+Of rosy babyhood&mdash;<BR>
+When all the world was good,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Old Man.</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+And yet I find a sly<BR>
+Little twinkle in your eye;<BR>
+And your whisperingly shy<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Little laugh is simply an</SPAN><BR>
+Internal shout of glee<BR>
+That betrays the fallacy<BR>
+You'd perpetrate on me,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Old Man.</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P94"></A>94}</SPAN>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+So just put up the frown<BR>
+That your brows are pulling down!<BR>
+Why, the fleetest boy in town,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">As he bared his feet and ran,</SPAN><BR>
+Could read with half a glance&mdash;<BR>
+And of keen rebuke, perchance&mdash;<BR>
+Your secret countenance,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Old Man.</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+Now, honestly, confess:<BR>
+Is an old man any less<BR>
+Than the little child we bless<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">And caress when we can?</SPAN><BR>
+Isn't age but just a place<BR>
+Where you mask the childish face<BR>
+To preserve its inner grace,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Old Man?</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+Hasn't age a truant day,<BR>
+Just as that you went astray<BR>
+In the wayward, restless way,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">When, brown with dust and tan,</SPAN><BR>
+Your roguish face essayed,<BR>
+In solemn masquerade,<BR>
+To hide the smile it made,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Old Man?</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P95"></A>95}</SPAN>
+
+<A NAME="img-095"></A>
+<CENTER>
+<IMG CLASS="imgcenter" SRC="images/img-095.jpg" ALT="In your reposeful gaze" BORDER="0" WIDTH="410" HEIGHT="563">
+</CENTER>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P97"></A>97}</SPAN>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+Now, fair, and square, and true,<BR>
+Don't your old soul tremble through,<BR>
+As in youth it used to do<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">When it brimmed and overran</SPAN><BR>
+With the strange, enchanted sights,<BR>
+And the splendors and delights<BR>
+Of the old "Arabian Nights,"<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Old Man?</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+When, haply, you have fared<BR>
+Where glad Aladdin shared<BR>
+His lamp with you, and dared<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">The Afrite and his clan;</SPAN><BR>
+And, with him, clambered through<BR>
+The trees where jewels grew&mdash;<BR>
+And filled your pockets, too,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Old Man?</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+Or, with Sinbad, at sea&mdash;<BR>
+And in veracity<BR>
+Who has sinned as bad as he,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Or would, or will, or can?&mdash;</SPAN><BR>
+Have you listened to his lies,<BR>
+With open mouth and eyes,<BR>
+And learned his art likewise,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Old Man?</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P98"></A>98}</SPAN>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+And you need not deny<BR>
+That your eyes were wet as dry,<BR>
+Reading novels on the sly!<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">And review them, if you can</SPAN><BR>
+And the same warm tears will fall&mdash;<BR>
+Only faster, that is all&mdash;<BR>
+Over Little Nell and Paul,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Old Man!</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+Oh, you were a lucky lad&mdash;<BR>
+Just as good as you were bad!<BR>
+And the host of friends you had&mdash;<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Charley, Tom, and Dick, and Dan;</SPAN><BR>
+And the old School-Teacher, too,<BR>
+Though he often censured you;<BR>
+And the girls in pink and blue,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Old Man.</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+And&mdash;as often you have leant,<BR>
+In boyish sentiment,<BR>
+To kiss the letter sent<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">By Nelly, Belle, or Nan&mdash;</SPAN><BR>
+Wherein the rose's hue<BR>
+Was red, the violet blue&mdash;<BR>
+And sugar sweet&mdash;and you,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Old Man,&mdash;</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P99"></A>99}</SPAN>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+So, to-day, as lives the bloom,<BR>
+And the sweetness, and perfume<BR>
+Of the blossoms, I assume,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">On the same mysterious plan</SPAN><BR>
+The Master's love assures,<BR>
+That the selfsame boy endures<BR>
+In that hale old heart of yours,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Old Man.</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<A NAME="img-099"></A>
+<IMG CLASS="imgright" SRC="images/img-099.jpg" ALT="The old man--tailpiece" BORDER="0" WIDTH="188" HEIGHT="194">
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="chap100"></A>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P100"></A>100}</SPAN>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+JAMES B. MAYNARD<BR>
+</H3>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+His daily, nightly task is o'er&mdash;<BR>
+He leans above his desk no more.<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+His pencil and his pen say not<BR>
+One further word of gracious thought.<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+All silent is his <I>voice</I>, yet clear<BR>
+For all a grateful world to hear;<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+He poured abroad his human love<BR>
+In opulence unmeasured of&mdash;<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+While, in return, his meek demand,&mdash;<BR>
+The warm clasp of a neighbor-hand<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+In recognition of the true<BR>
+World's duty that he lived to do.<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+So was he kin of yours and mine&mdash;<BR>
+So, even by the hallowed sign<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+Of silence which he listens to,<BR>
+He hears our tears as falls the dew.<BR>
+</P>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="chap101"></A>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P101"></A>101}</SPAN>
+
+<A NAME="img-101"></A>
+<IMG CLASS="imgright" SRC="images/img-101.jpg" ALT="The ancient printerman--headpiece" BORDER="0" WIDTH="197" HEIGHT="215">
+
+<BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+THE ANCIENT PRINTERMAN<BR>
+</H3>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+O Printerman of sallow face,<BR>
+And look of absent guile,<BR>
+Is it the 'copy' on your 'case'<BR>
+That causes you to smile?<BR>
+Or is it some old treasure scrap<BR>
+You call from Memory's file?<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+"I fain would guess its mystery&mdash;<BR>
+For often I can trace<BR>
+A fellow dreamer's history<BR>
+Whene'er it haunts the face;<BR>
+Your fancy's running riot<BR>
+In a retrospective race!<BR>
+</P>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P102"></A>102}</SPAN>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+"Ah, Printerman, you're straying<BR>
+Afar from 'stick' and type&mdash;<BR>
+Your heart has 'gone a-maying,'<BR>
+And you taste old kisses, ripe<BR>
+Again on lips that pucker<BR>
+At your old asthmatic pipe!<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+"You are dreaming of old pleasures<BR>
+That have faded from your view;<BR>
+And the music-burdened measures<BR>
+Of the laughs you listen to<BR>
+Are now but angel-echoes&mdash;<BR>
+O, have I spoken true?"<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+The ancient Printer hinted<BR>
+With a motion full of grace<BR>
+To where the words were printed<BR>
+On a card above his "case,"&mdash;<BR>
+"'I am deaf and dumb!"  I left him<BR>
+With a smile upon his face.<BR>
+</P>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P103"></A>103}</SPAN>
+
+<A NAME="img-103"></A>
+<CENTER>
+<IMG CLASS="imgcenter" SRC="images/img-103.jpg" ALT="O Printerman of sallow face" BORDER="0" WIDTH="407" HEIGHT="563">
+</CENTER>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="chap105"></A>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P105"></A>105}</SPAN>
+
+<A NAME="img-105"></A>
+<CENTER>
+<IMG CLASS="imgcenter" SRC="images/img-105.jpg" ALT="The old man and Jim--headpiece" BORDER="0" WIDTH="207" HEIGHT="219">
+</CENTER>
+
+<BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+THE OLD MAN AND JIM<BR>
+</H3>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+Old man never had much to say&mdash;<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">'Ceptin' to Jim,&mdash;</SPAN><BR>
+And Jim was the wildest boy he had&mdash;<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">And the old man jes' wrapped up in him!</SPAN><BR>
+Never heerd him speak but once<BR>
+Er twice in my life,&mdash;and first time was<BR>
+When the army broke out, and Jim he went,<BR>
+The old man backin' him, fer three months;<BR>
+And all 'at I heerd the old man say<BR>
+Was, jes' as we turned to start away,&mdash;<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">"Well, good-by, Jim:</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Take keer o' yourse'f!"</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P106"></A>106}</SPAN>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+'Peared-like, he was more satisfied<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Jes' <I>lookin'</I> at Jim</SPAN><BR>
+And likin' him all to hisse'f-like, see?&mdash;<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">'Cause he was jes' wrapped up in him!</SPAN><BR>
+And over and over I mind the day<BR>
+The old man come and stood round in the way<BR>
+While we was drillin', a-watchin' Jim&mdash;<BR>
+And down at the deepo a-heerin' him say,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">"Well, good-by, Jim:</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Take keer of yourse'f!"</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+Never was nothin' about the <I>farm</I><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Disting'ished Jim;</SPAN><BR>
+Neighbors all ust to wonder why<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">The old man 'peared wrapped up in him;</SPAN><BR>
+But when Cap. Biggler he writ back<BR>
+'At Jim was the bravest boy we had<BR>
+In the whole dern rigiment, white er black,<BR>
+And his fightin' good as his farmin' bad&mdash;<BR>
+'At he had led, with a bullet clean<BR>
+Bored through his thigh, and carried the flag<BR>
+Through the bloodiest battle you ever seen,&mdash;<BR>
+The old man wound up a letter to him<BR>
+'At Cap. read to us, 'at said: "Tell Jim<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Good-by,</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">And take keer of hisse'f."</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P107"></A>107}</SPAN>
+
+<A NAME="img-107"></A>
+<CENTER>
+<IMG CLASS="imgcenter" SRC="images/img-107.jpg" ALT="&quot;Well, good-by, Jim&quot;" BORDER="0" WIDTH="408" HEIGHT="561">
+</CENTER>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P109"></A>109}</SPAN>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+Jim come home jes' long enough<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">To take the whim</SPAN><BR>
+'At he'd like to go back in the calvery&mdash;<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">And the old man jes' wrapped up in him!</SPAN><BR>
+Jim 'lowed 'at he'd had sich luck afore,<BR>
+Guessed he'd tackle her three years more.<BR>
+And the old man give him a colt he'd raised,<BR>
+And follered him over to Camp Ben Wade,<BR>
+And laid around fer a week er so,<BR>
+Watchin' Jim on dress-parade&mdash;<BR>
+Tel finally he rid away,<BR>
+And last he heerd was the old man say,&mdash;<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">"Well, good-by, Jim:</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Take keer of yourse'f!"</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<A NAME="img-109"></A>
+<IMG CLASS="imgright" SRC="images/img-109.jpg" ALT="The old man and Jim--tailpiece" BORDER="0" WIDTH="173" HEIGHT="177">
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P110"></A>110}</SPAN>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+Tuk the papers, the old man did,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">A-watchin' fer Jim&mdash;</SPAN><BR>
+Fully believin' he'd make his mark<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em"><I>Some</I> way&mdash;jes' wrapped up in him!&mdash;</SPAN><BR>
+And many a time the word 'u'd come<BR>
+'At stirred him up like the tap of a drum&mdash;<BR>
+At Petersburg, fer instunce, where<BR>
+Jim rid right into their cannons there,<BR>
+And tuk 'em, and p'inted 'em t'other way,<BR>
+And socked it home to the boys in gray<BR>
+As they scooted fer timber, and on and on&mdash;<BR>
+Jim a lieutenant, and one arm gone,<BR>
+And the old man's words in his mind all day,&mdash;<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">"Well, good-by, Jim:</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Take keer of yourse'f!"</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<A NAME="img-110"></A>
+<IMG CLASS="imgright" SRC="images/img-110.jpg" ALT="The old man and Jim--tailpiece" BORDER="0" WIDTH="143" HEIGHT="167">
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P111"></A>111}</SPAN>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+Think of a private, now, perhaps,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">We'll say like Jim,</SPAN><BR>
+'At's dumb clean up to the shoulder-straps&mdash;<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">And the old man jes' wrapped up in him!</SPAN><BR>
+Think of him&mdash;with the war plum' through,<BR>
+And the glorious old Red-White-and-Blue<BR>
+A-laughin' the news down over Jim,<BR>
+And the old man, bendin' over him&mdash;<BR>
+The surgeon turnin' away with tears<BR>
+'At hadn't leaked fer years and years,<BR>
+As the hand of the dyin' boy clung to<BR>
+His father's, the old voice in his ears,&mdash;<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">"Well, good-by, Jim:</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Take keer of yourse'f!"</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<A NAME="img-111"></A>
+<CENTER>
+<IMG CLASS="imgcenter" SRC="images/img-111.jpg" ALT="The old man and Jim--tailpiece" BORDER="0" WIDTH="173" HEIGHT="164">
+</CENTER>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="chap112"></A>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P112"></A>112}</SPAN>
+
+<A NAME="img-112"></A>
+<IMG CLASS="imgleft" SRC="images/img-112.jpg" ALT="The old school-chum--headpiece" BORDER="0" WIDTH="185" HEIGHT="276">
+
+<BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+THE OLD SCHOOL-CHUM<BR>
+</H3>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+He puts the poem by, to say<BR>
+His eyes are not themselves to-day!<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+A sudden glamour o'er his sight&mdash;<BR>
+A something vague, indefinite&mdash;<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+An oft-recurring blur that blinds<BR>
+The printed meaning of the lines,<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+And leaves the mind all dusk and dim<BR>
+In swimming darkness&mdash;strange to him!<BR>
+</P>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P113"></A>113}</SPAN>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+It is not childishness, I guess,&mdash;<BR>
+Yet something of the tenderness<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+That used to wet his lashes when<BR>
+A boy seems troubling him again;&mdash;<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+The old emotion, sweet and wild,<BR>
+That drove him truant when a child,<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+That he might hide the tears that fell<BR>
+Above the lesson&mdash;"Little Nell."<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+And so it is he puts aside<BR>
+The poem he has vainly tried<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+To follow; and, as one who sighs<BR>
+In failure, through a poor disguise<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+Of smiles, he dries his tears, to say<BR>
+His eyes are not themselves to-day.<BR>
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<A NAME="img-113"></A>
+<CENTER>
+<IMG CLASS="imgcenter" SRC="images/img-113.jpg" ALT="The old school-chum--tailpiece" BORDER="0" WIDTH="193" HEIGHT="149">
+</CENTER>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="chap114"></A>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P114"></A>114}</SPAN>
+
+<A NAME="img-114"></A>
+<CENTER>
+<IMG CLASS="imgcenter" SRC="images/img-114.jpg" ALT="My jolly friend's secret--headpiece" BORDER="0" WIDTH="146" HEIGHT="214">
+</CENTER>
+
+<BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+MY JOLLY FRIEND'S SECRET<BR>
+</H3>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+Ah, friend of mine, how goes it<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Since you've taken you a mate?&mdash;</SPAN><BR>
+Your smile, though, plainly shows it<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Is a very happy state!</SPAN><BR>
+Dan Cupid's necromancy!<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">You must sit you down and dine,</SPAN><BR>
+And lubricate your fancy<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">With a glass or two of wine.</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P115"></A>115}</SPAN>
+
+<A NAME="img-115"></A>
+<CENTER>
+<IMG CLASS="imgcenter" SRC="images/img-115.jpg" ALT="Ah, friend of mine, how goes it" BORDER="0" WIDTH="406" HEIGHT="558">
+</CENTER>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P117"></A>117}</SPAN>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+And as you have "deserted,"<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">As my other chums have done,</SPAN><BR>
+While I laugh alone diverted,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">As you drop off one by one&mdash;-</SPAN><BR>
+And I've remained unwedded,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Till&mdash;you see&mdash;look here&mdash;that I'm,</SPAN><BR>
+In a manner, "snatched bald-headed"<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">By the sportive hand of Time!</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+I'm an "old 'un!" yes, but wrinkles<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Are not so plenty, quite,</SPAN><BR>
+As to cover up the twinkles<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Of the <I>boy</I>&mdash;ain't I right?</SPAN><BR>
+Yet there are ghosts of kisses<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Under this mustache of mine</SPAN><BR>
+My mem'ry only misses<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">When I drown 'em out with wine.</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+From acknowledgment so ample,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">You would hardly take me for</SPAN><BR>
+What I am&mdash;a perfect sample<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Of a "jolly bachelor";</SPAN><BR>
+Not a bachelor has being<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">When he laughs at married life</SPAN><BR>
+But his heart and soul's agreeing<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">That he ought to have a wife!</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P118"></A>118}</SPAN>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+Ah, ha! old chum, this claret,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Like Fatima, holds the key</SPAN><BR>
+Of the old Blue-Beardish garret<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Of my hidden mystery!</SPAN><BR>
+Did you say you'd like to listen?<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Ah, my boy! the "<I>Sad No More!</I>"</SPAN><BR>
+And the tear-drops that will glisten&mdash;<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em"><I>Turn the catch upon the door,</I></SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+And sit you down beside me<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">And put yourself at ease&mdash;</SPAN><BR>
+I'll trouble you to slide me<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">That wine decanter, please;</SPAN><BR>
+The path is kind o' mazy<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Where my fancies have to go,</SPAN><BR>
+And my heart gets sort o' lazy<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">On the journey&mdash;don't you know?</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+Let me see&mdash;when I was twenty&mdash;<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">It's a lordly age, my boy,</SPAN><BR>
+When a fellow's money's plenty,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">And the leisure to enjoy&mdash;</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P119"></A>119}</SPAN>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+And a girl&mdash;with hair as golden<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">As&mdash;<I>that</I>; and lips&mdash;well&mdash;quite</SPAN><BR>
+As red as <I>this</I> I'm holdin'<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Between you and the light?</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+And eyes and a complexion&mdash;<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Ah, heavens!&mdash;le'-me-see&mdash;</SPAN><BR>
+Well,&mdash;just in this connection,&mdash;<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em"><I>Did you lock that door for me?</I></SPAN><BR>
+Did I start in recitation<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">My past life to recall?</SPAN><BR>
+Well, <I>that's</I> an indication<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">I am purty tight&mdash;that's all!</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<A NAME="img-119"></A>
+<IMG CLASS="imgright" SRC="images/img-119.jpg" ALT="My jolly friend's secret--tailpiece" BORDER="0" WIDTH="200" HEIGHT="150">
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="chap120"></A>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P120"></A>120}</SPAN>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+IN THE HEART OF JUNE<BR>
+</H3>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+In the heart of June, love,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">You and I together,</SPAN><BR>
+On from dawn till noon, love,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Laughing with the weather;</SPAN><BR>
+Blending both our souls, love,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">In the selfsame tune,</SPAN><BR>
+Drinking all life holds, love,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">In the heart of June.</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+In the heart of June, love,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">With its golden weather,</SPAN><BR>
+Underneath the moon, love,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">You and I together.</SPAN><BR>
+Ah! how sweet to seem, love,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Drugged and half aswoon</SPAN><BR>
+With this luscious dream, love,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">In the heart of June.</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="chap121"></A>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P121"></A>121}</SPAN>
+
+<A NAME="img-121"></A>
+<CENTER>
+<IMG CLASS="imgcenter" SRC="images/img-121.jpg" ALT="The old band--headpiece" BORDER="0" WIDTH="216" HEIGHT="227">
+</CENTER>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+THE OLD BAND<BR>
+</H3>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+It's mighty good to git back to the old town, shore,<BR>
+Considerin' I've be'n away twenty year and more.<BR>
+Sence I moved then to Kansas, of course I see a change,<BR>
+A-comin' back, and notice things that's new to me and strange;<BR>
+Especially at evening when yer new band-fellers meet,<BR>
+In fancy uniforms and all, and play out on the street&mdash;<BR>
+.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;What's come of old Bill Lindsey and the Saxhorn fellers&mdash;say?<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">I want to hear the <I>old</I> band play.</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P122"></A>122}</SPAN>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+What's come of Eastman, and Nat Snow?  And where's War Barnett at?<BR>
+And Nate and Bony Meek; Bill Hart; Tom Richa'son and that-<BR>
+Air brother of him played the drum as twic't as big as Jim;<BR>
+And old Hi Kerns, the carpenter&mdash;say, what's become o' him?<BR>
+I make no doubt yer <I>new band</I> now's a <I>competenter</I> band,<BR>
+And plays their music more by note than what they play by hand,<BR>
+And stylisher and grander tunes; but somehow&mdash;anyway,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">I want to hear the <I>old</I> band play.</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+Sich tunes as "John Brown's Body" and "Sweet Alice," don't you know;<BR>
+And "The Camels is A-comin'," and "John Anderson, my Jo";<BR>
+And a dozent others of 'em&mdash;"Number Nine" and "Number 'Leven"<BR>
+Was favo-<I>rites</I> that fairly made a feller dream o' Heaven.<BR>
+And when the boys 'u'd saranade, I've laid so still in bed<BR>
+I've even heerd the locus'-blossoms droppin' on the shed<BR>
+When "Lilly Dale," er "Hazel Dell," had sobbed and died away&mdash;<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">.&nbsp;.&nbsp;.&nbsp;I want to hear the <I>old</I> band play.</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P123"></A>123}</SPAN>
+
+<A NAME="img-123"></A>
+<CENTER>
+<IMG CLASS="imgcenter" SRC="images/img-123.jpg" ALT="I want to hear the old band play" BORDER="0" WIDTH="409" HEIGHT="552">
+</CENTER>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P125"></A>125}</SPAN>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+Yer <I>new</I> band ma'by beats it, but the <I>old band's</I> what I said&mdash;<BR>
+It allus 'peared to kind o' chord with somepin' in my head;<BR>
+And, whilse I'm no musicianer, when my blame' eyes is jes'<BR>
+Nigh drownded out, and Mem'ry squares her jaws and sort o' says<BR>
+She <I>won't</I> ner <I>never</I> will fergit, I want to jes' turn in<BR>
+And take and light right out o' here and git back West ag'in<BR>
+And <I>stay</I> there, when I git there, where I never haf to say<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">I want to hear the <I>old</I> band play.</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<A NAME="img-125"></A>
+<CENTER>
+<IMG CLASS="imgcenter" SRC="images/img-125.jpg" ALT="The old band--tailpiece" BORDER="0" WIDTH="159" HEIGHT="211">
+</CENTER>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="chap126"></A>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P126"></A>126}</SPAN>
+
+<A NAME="img-126"></A>
+<IMG CLASS="imgleft" SRC="images/img-126.jpg" ALT="My friend--headpiece" BORDER="0" WIDTH="172" HEIGHT="181">
+
+<BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+MY FRIEND<BR>
+</H3>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+"He is my friend," I said,&mdash;<BR>
+"Be patient!"  Overhead<BR>
+The skies were drear and dim;<BR>
+And lo! the thought of him<BR>
+Smiled on my heart&mdash;and then<BR>
+The sun shone out again!<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+"He is my friend!"  The words<BR>
+Brought summer and the birds;<BR>
+And all my winter-time<BR>
+Thawed into running rhyme<BR>
+And rippled into song,<BR>
+Warm, tender, brave, and strong.<BR>
+</P>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P127"></A>127}</SPAN>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+And so it sings to-day.&mdash;<BR>
+So may it sing alway!<BR>
+Though waving grasses grow<BR>
+Between, and lilies blow<BR>
+Their trills of perfume clear<BR>
+As laughter to the ear,<BR>
+Let each mute measure end<BR>
+With "Still he is thy friend."<BR>
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<A NAME="img-127"></A>
+<IMG CLASS="imgright" SRC="images/img-127.jpg" ALT="My friend--tailpiece" BORDER="0" WIDTH="202" HEIGHT="225">
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="chap128"></A>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P128"></A>128}</SPAN>
+
+<A NAME="img-128"></A>
+<CENTER>
+<IMG CLASS="imgcenter" SRC="images/img-128.jpg" ALT="The traveling man--headpiece" BORDER="0" WIDTH="158" HEIGHT="115">
+</CENTER>
+
+<BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+THE TRAVELING MAN<BR>
+</H3>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+I<BR>
+</H3>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+Could I pour out the nectar the gods only can,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">I would fill up my glass to the brim</SPAN><BR>
+And drink the success of the Traveling Man,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">And the house represented by him;</SPAN><BR>
+And could I but tincture the glorious draught<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">With his smiles, as I drank to him then,</SPAN><BR>
+And the jokes he has told and the laughs he has laughed,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">I would fill up the goblet again&mdash;</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+And drink to the sweetheart who gave him good-by<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">With a tenderness thrilling him this</SPAN><BR>
+Very hour, as he thinks of the tear in her eye<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">That salted the sweet of her kiss;</SPAN><BR>
+To her truest of hearts and her fairest of hands<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">I would drink, with all serious prayers,</SPAN><BR>
+Since the heart she must trust is a Traveling Man's,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">And as warm as the ulster he wears.</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P129"></A>129}</SPAN>
+
+<A NAME="img-129"></A>
+<CENTER>
+<IMG CLASS="imgcenter" SRC="images/img-129.jpg" ALT="Who have met him with smiles and with cheer" BORDER="0" WIDTH="408" HEIGHT="557">
+</CENTER>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P131"></A>131}</SPAN>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+II<BR>
+</H3>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+I would drink to the wife, with the babe on her knee,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Who awaits his returning in vain&mdash;</SPAN><BR>
+Who breaks his brave letters so tremulously<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">And reads them again and again!</SPAN><BR>
+And I'd drink to the feeble old mother who sits<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">At the warm fireside of her son</SPAN><BR>
+And murmurs and weeps o'er the stocking she knits,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">As she thinks of the wandering one.</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+I would drink a long life and a health to the friends<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Who have met him with smiles and with cheer&mdash;</SPAN><BR>
+To the generous hand that the landlord extends<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">To the wayfarer journeying here:</SPAN><BR>
+And I pledge, when he turns from this earthly abode<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">And pays the last fare that he can,</SPAN><BR>
+Mine Host of the Inn at the End of the Road<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Will welcome the Traveling Man!</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="chap132"></A>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P132"></A>132}</SPAN>
+
+<A NAME="img-132"></A>
+<IMG CLASS="imgleft" SRC="images/img-132.jpg" ALT="Dan O'Sullivan--headpiece" BORDER="0" WIDTH="111" HEIGHT="113">
+
+<BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+DAN O'SULLIVAN<BR>
+</H3>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+Dan O'Sullivan: It's your<BR>
+Lips have kissed "The Blarney," sure!&mdash;<BR>
+To be trillin' praise av me,<BR>
+Dhrippin' swhate wid poethry!&mdash;<BR>
+Not that I'd not have ye sing&mdash;<BR>
+Don't lave off for anything&mdash;<BR>
+Jusht be aisy whilst the fit<BR>
+Av me head shwells up to it!<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+Dade and thrue, I'm not the man,<BR>
+Whilst yer singin', loike ye can,<BR>
+To cry shtop because ye've blesht<BR>
+My songs more than all the resht:&mdash;<BR>
+I'll not be the b'y to ax<BR>
+Any shtar to wane or wax,<BR>
+Or ax any clock that's woun'<BR>
+To run up inshtid av down!<BR>
+</P>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P133"></A>133}</SPAN>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+Whist yez! Dan O'Sullivan!&mdash;<BR>
+Him that made the Irishman<BR>
+Mixt the birds in wid the dough,<BR>
+And the dew and mistletoe<BR>
+Wid the whusky in the quare<BR>
+Muggs av us&mdash;and here we air,<BR>
+Three parts right, and three parts wrong,<BR>
+Shpiked with beauty, wit and song!<BR>
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<A NAME="img-133"></A>
+<IMG CLASS="imgright" SRC="images/img-133.jpg" ALT="Dan O'Sullivan--tailpiece" BORDER="0" WIDTH="179" HEIGHT="264">
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="chap134"></A>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P134"></A>134}</SPAN>
+
+<A NAME="img-134"></A>
+<CENTER>
+<IMG CLASS="imgcenter" SRC="images/img-134.jpg" ALT="My old friend--headpiece" BORDER="0" WIDTH="248" HEIGHT="273">
+</CENTER>
+
+<BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+MY OLD FRIEND<BR>
+</H3>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+You've a manner all so mellow,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">My old friend,</SPAN><BR>
+That it cheers and warms a fellow,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">My old friend,</SPAN><BR>
+Just to meet and greet you, and<BR>
+Feel the pressure of a hand<BR>
+That one may understand,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">My old friend.</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P135"></A>135}</SPAN>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+Though dimmed in youthful splendor,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">My old friend,</SPAN><BR>
+Your smiles are still as tender,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">My old friend,</SPAN><BR>
+And your eyes as true a blue<BR>
+As your childhood ever knew,<BR>
+And your laugh as merry, too,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">My old friend.</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+For though your hair is faded,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">My old friend,</SPAN><BR>
+And your step a trifle jaded,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">My old friend,</SPAN><BR>
+Old Time, with all his lures<BR>
+In the trophies he secures,<BR>
+Leaves young that heart of yours,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">My old friend.</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+And so it is you cheer me,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">My old friend,</SPAN><BR>
+For to know you still are near me,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">My old friend,</SPAN><BR>
+Makes my hopes of clearer light,<BR>
+And my faith of surer sight,<BR>
+And my soul a purer white,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">My old friend.</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="chap136"></A>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P136"></A>136}</SPAN>
+
+<A NAME="img-136"></A>
+<CENTER>
+<IMG CLASS="imgcenter" SRC="images/img-136.jpg" ALT="Old John Henry--headpiece" BORDER="0" WIDTH="182" HEIGHT="248">
+</CENTER>
+
+<BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+OLD JOHN HENRY<BR>
+</H3>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+Old John's jes' made o' the commonest stuff&mdash;<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 3em">Old John Henry&mdash;</SPAN><BR>
+He's tough, I reckon,&mdash;but none too tough&mdash;<BR>
+Too tough though's better than not enough!<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 3em">Says old John Henry.</SPAN><BR>
+He does his best, and when his best's bad,<BR>
+He don't fret none, ner he don't git sad&mdash;<BR>
+He simply 'lows it's the best he had:<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 3em">Old John Henry!</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P137"></A>137}</SPAN>
+
+<A NAME="img-137"></A>
+<CENTER>
+<IMG CLASS="imgcenter" SRC="images/img-137.jpg" ALT="A smilin' face and hearty hand" BORDER="0" WIDTH="402" HEIGHT="560">
+</CENTER>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P139"></A>139}</SPAN>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+His doctern's jes' o' the plainest brand&mdash;<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 3em">Old John Henry&mdash;</SPAN><BR>
+A smilin' face and a hearty hand<BR>
+'S religen 'at all folks understand,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 3em">Says old John Henry.</SPAN><BR>
+He's stove up some with the rhumatiz,<BR>
+And they hain't no shine on them shoes o' his,<BR>
+And his hair hain't cut&mdash;but his eye-teeth is:<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 3em">Old John Henry!</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+He feeds hisse'f when the stock's all fed&mdash;<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 3em">Old John Henry&mdash;</SPAN><BR>
+And sleeps like a babe when he goes to bed&mdash;<BR>
+And dreams o' Heaven and home-made bread,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 3em">Says old John Henry.</SPAN><BR>
+He hain't refined as he'd ort to be<BR>
+To fit the statutes o' poetry,<BR>
+Ner his clothes don't fit him&mdash;but <I>he</I> fits <I>me</I>:<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 3em">Old John Henry!</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="chap140"></A>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P140"></A>140}</SPAN>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+HER VALENTINE<BR>
+</H3>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+Somebody's sent a funny little valentine to me.<BR>
+It's a bunch of baby-roses in a vase of filigree,<BR>
+And hovering above them&mdash;just as cute as he can be&mdash;<BR>
+Is a fairy Cupid tangled in a scarf of poetry.<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+And the prankish little fellow looks so knowing in his glee,<BR>
+With his golden bow and arrow, aiming most unerringly<BR>
+At a pair of hearts so labeled that I may read and see<BR>
+That one is meant for "One Who Loves," and one is meant for me.<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+But I know the lad who sent it!  It's as plain as A-B-C!&mdash;<BR>
+For the roses they are <I>blushing</I>, and the vase stands <I>awkwardly</I>,<BR>
+And the little god above it&mdash;though as cute as he can be&mdash;<BR>
+Can not breathe the lightest whisper of his burning love for me.<BR>
+</P>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="chap141"></A>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P141"></A>141}</SPAN>
+
+<A NAME="img-141"></A>
+<CENTER>
+<IMG CLASS="imgcenter" SRC="images/img-141.jpg" ALT="Christmas greeting--headpiece" BORDER="0" WIDTH="301" HEIGHT="198">
+</CENTER>
+
+<BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+CHRISTMAS GREETING<BR>
+</H3>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+A word of Godspeed and good cheer<BR>
+To all on earth, or far or near,<BR>
+Or friend or foe, or thine or mine&mdash;<BR>
+In echo of the voice divine,<BR>
+Heard when the star bloomed forth and lit<BR>
+The world's face, with God's smile on it.<BR>
+</P>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="chap142"></A>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P142"></A>142}</SPAN>
+
+<A NAME="img-142"></A>
+<IMG CLASS="imgleft" SRC="images/img-142.jpg" ALT="Abe Martin--headpiece" BORDER="0" WIDTH="205" HEIGHT="211">
+
+<BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+ABE MARTIN<BR>
+</H3>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+Abe Martin!&mdash;dad-burn his old picture!<BR>
+P'tends he's a Brown County fixture&mdash;<BR>
+A kind of a comical mixture<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Of hoss-sense and no sense at all!</SPAN><BR>
+His mouth, like his pipe, 's allus goin',<BR>
+And his thoughts, like his whiskers, is flowin',<BR>
+And what he don't know ain't wuth knowin'&mdash;<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">From Genesis clean to baseball!</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P143"></A>143}</SPAN>
+
+<A NAME="img-143"></A>
+<CENTER>
+<IMG CLASS="imgcenter" SRC="images/img-143.jpg" ALT="His mouth, like his pipe, 's allus goin'" BORDER="0" WIDTH="400" HEIGHT="560">
+</CENTER>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P145"></A>145}</SPAN>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+The artist, Kin Hubbard, 's so keerless<BR>
+He draws Abe 'most eyeless and earless,<BR>
+But he's never yet pictured him cheerless<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Er with fun 'at he tries to conceal,&mdash;</SPAN><BR>
+Whuther on to the fence er clean over<BR>
+A-rootin' up ragweed er clover,<BR>
+Skeert stiff at some "Rambler" er "Rover"<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Er newfangled automo<I>beel</I>!</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+It's a purty steep climate old Brown's in;<BR>
+And the rains there his ducks nearly drowns in<BR>
+The old man hisse'f wades his rounds in<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">As ca'm and serene, mighty nigh</SPAN><BR>
+As the old handsaw-hawg, er the mottled<BR>
+Milch cow, er the old rooster wattled<BR>
+Like the mumps had him 'most so well throttled<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">That it was a pleasure to die.</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+But best of 'em all's the fool-breaks 'at<BR>
+Abe don't see at all, and yit makes 'at<BR>
+Both me and you lays back and shakes at<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">His comic, miraculous cracks</SPAN><BR>
+Which makes him&mdash;clean back of the power<BR>
+Of genius itse'f in its flower&mdash;<BR>
+This Notable Man of the Hour,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Abe Martin, The Joker on Facts.</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="chap146"></A>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P146"></A>146}</SPAN>
+
+<A NAME="img-146"></A>
+<CENTER>
+<IMG CLASS="imgcenter" SRC="images/img-146.jpg" ALT="The little old poem that nobody reads--headpiece" BORDER="0" WIDTH="285" HEIGHT="214">
+</CENTER>
+
+<BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+THE LITTLE OLD POEM THAT NOBODY READS<BR>
+</H3>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+The little old poem that nobody reads<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Blooms in a crowded space,</SPAN><BR>
+Like a ground-vine blossom, so low in the weeds<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">That nobody sees its face&mdash;</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">Unless, perchance, the reader's eye</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">Stares through a yawn, and hurries by,</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">For no one wants, or loves, or heeds,</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">The little old poem that nobody reads.</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P147"></A>147}</SPAN>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+The little old poem that nobody reads<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Was written&mdash;where?&mdash;and when?</SPAN><BR>
+Maybe a hand of goodly deeds<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Thrilled as it held the pen:</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">Maybe the fountain whence it came</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">Was a heart brimmed o'er with tears of shame,</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">And maybe its creed is the worst of creeds&mdash;</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">The little old poem that nobody reads.</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+But, little old poem that nobody reads,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Holding you here above</SPAN><BR>
+The wound of a heart that warmly bleeds<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">For all that knows not love,</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">I well believe if the old World knew</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">As dear a friend as I find in you,</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">That friend would tell it that all it needs</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">Is the little old poem that nobody reads.</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<A NAME="img-147"></A>
+<IMG CLASS="imgright" SRC="images/img-147.jpg" ALT="The little old poem that nobody reads--tailpiece" BORDER="0" WIDTH="180" HEIGHT="164">
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="chap148"></A>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P148"></A>148}</SPAN>
+
+<A NAME="img-148"></A>
+<IMG CLASS="imgleft" SRC="images/img-148.jpg" ALT="In the afternoon--headpiece" BORDER="0" WIDTH="194" HEIGHT="209">
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+IN THE AFTERNOON<BR>
+</H3>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+You in the hammock; and I, near by,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Was trying to read, and to swing you, too;</SPAN><BR>
+And the green of the sward was so kind to the eye,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">And the shade of the maples so cool and blue,</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">That often I looked from the book to you</SPAN><BR>
+To say as much, with a sigh.<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+You in the hammock.  The book we'd brought<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">From the parlor&mdash;to read in the open air,&mdash;</SPAN><BR>
+Something of love and of Launcelot<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">And Guinevere, I believe, was there&mdash;</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">But the afternoon, it was far more fair</SPAN><BR>
+Than the poem was, I thought.<BR>
+</P>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P149"></A>149}</SPAN>
+
+<A NAME="img-149"></A>
+<CENTER>
+<IMG CLASS="imgcenter" SRC="images/img-149.jpg" ALT="You in the hammock; and I, near by" BORDER="0" WIDTH="410" HEIGHT="562">
+</CENTER>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P151"></A>151}</SPAN>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+You in the hammock; and on and on.<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">I droned and droned through the rhythmic stuff&mdash;</SPAN><BR>
+But, with always a half of my vision gone<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Over the top of the page&mdash;enough</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">To caressingly gaze at you, swathed in the fluff</SPAN><BR>
+Of your hair and your odorous "lawn."<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+You in the hammock&mdash;and that was a year&mdash;<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Fully a year ago, I guess&mdash;</SPAN><BR>
+And what do we care for their Guinevere<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">And her Launcelot and their lordliness!&mdash;</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">You in the hammock still, and&mdash;Yes&mdash;</SPAN><BR>
+Kiss me again, my dear!<BR>
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<A NAME="img-151"></A>
+<CENTER>
+<IMG CLASS="imgcenter" SRC="images/img-151.jpg" ALT="In the afternoon--tailpiece" BORDER="0" WIDTH="251" HEIGHT="200">
+</CENTER>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="chap152"></A>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P152"></A>152}</SPAN>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+BECAUSE<BR>
+</H3>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+Why did we meet long years of yore?<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">And why did we strike hands and say</SPAN><BR>
+"We will be friends and nothing more";<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Why are we musing thus to-day?</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">Because because was just because,</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">And no one knew just why it was.</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+Why did I say good-by to you?<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Why did I sail across the main?</SPAN><BR>
+Why did I love not heaven's own blue<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Until I touched these shores again?</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">Because because was just because,</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">And you nor I knew why it was.</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+Why are my arms about you now,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">And happy tears upon your cheek?</SPAN><BR>
+And why my kisses on your brow?<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Look up in thankfulness and speak!</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">Because because was just because,</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">And only God knew why it was.</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="chap153"></A>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P153"></A>153}</SPAN>
+
+<A NAME="img-153"></A>
+<IMG CLASS="imgright" SRC="images/img-153.jpg" ALT="Herr Weiser--headpiece" BORDER="0" WIDTH="218" HEIGHT="199">
+
+<BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+HERR WEISER<BR>
+</H3>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+Herr Weiser!&mdash;Threescore years and ten,&mdash;<BR>
+A hale white rose of his countrymen,<BR>
+Transplanted here in the Hoosier loam,<BR>
+And blossomy as his German home&mdash;<BR>
+As blossomy and as pure and sweet<BR>
+As the cool green glen of his calm retreat,<BR>
+Far withdrawn from the noisy town<BR>
+Where trade goes clamoring up and down,<BR>
+Whose fret and fever, and stress and strife,<BR>
+May not trouble his tranquil life!<BR>
+</P>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P154"></A>154}</SPAN>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+Breath of rest, what a balmy gust!&mdash;<BR>
+Quit of the city's heat and dust,<BR>
+Jostling down by the winding road<BR>
+Through the orchard ways of his quaint abode.&mdash;<BR>
+Tether the horse, as we onward fare<BR>
+Under the pear trees trailing there,<BR>
+And thumping the wooden bridge at night<BR>
+With lumps of ripeness and lush delight,<BR>
+Till the stream, as it maunders on till dawn,<BR>
+Is powdered and pelted and smiled upon.<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+Herr Weiser, with his wholesome face,<BR>
+And the gentle blue of his eyes, and grace<BR>
+Of unassuming honesty,<BR>
+Be there to welcome you and me!<BR>
+And what though the toil of the farm be stopped<BR>
+And the tireless plans of the place be dropped,<BR>
+While the prayerful master's knees are set<BR>
+In beds of pansy and mignonette<BR>
+And lily and aster and columbine,<BR>
+Offered in love, as yours and mine?&mdash;<BR>
+</P>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P155"></A>155}</SPAN>
+
+<A NAME="img-155"></A>
+<CENTER>
+<IMG CLASS="imgcenter" SRC="images/img-155.jpg" ALT="And lily and aster and columbine" BORDER="0" WIDTH="408" HEIGHT="564">
+</CENTER>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P157"></A>157}</SPAN>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+What, but a blessing of kindly thought,<BR>
+Sweet as the breath of forget-me-not!&mdash;<BR>
+What, but a spirit of lustrous love<BR>
+White as the aster he bends above!&mdash;<BR>
+What, but an odorous memory<BR>
+Of the dear old man, made known to me<BR>
+In days demanding a help like his,&mdash;<BR>
+As sweet as the life of the lily is&mdash;<BR>
+As sweet as the soul of a babe, bloom-wise<BR>
+Born of a lily in Paradise.<BR>
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<A NAME="img-157"></A>
+<IMG CLASS="imgright" SRC="images/img-157.jpg" ALT="Herr Weiser--tailpiece" BORDER="0" WIDTH="249" HEIGHT="195">
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="chap158"></A>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P158"></A>158}</SPAN>
+
+<A NAME="img-158"></A>
+<CENTER>
+<IMG CLASS="imgcenter" SRC="images/img-158.jpg" ALT="A mother-song--headpiece" BORDER="0" WIDTH="206" HEIGHT="239">
+</CENTER>
+
+<BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+A MOTHER-SONG<BR>
+</H3>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+Mother, O mother! forever I cry for you,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Sing the old song I may never forget;</SPAN><BR>
+Even in slumber I murmur and sigh for you.&mdash;<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Mother, O mother,</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 3em">Sing low, "Little brother,</SPAN><BR>
+Sleep, for thy mother bends over thee yet!"<BR>
+</P>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P159"></A>159}</SPAN>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+Mother, O mother! the years are so lonely,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Filled but with weariness, doubt and regret!</SPAN><BR>
+Can't you come back to me&mdash;for to-night only,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Mother, my mother,</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 3em">And sing, "Little brother,</SPAN><BR>
+Sleep, for thy mother bends over thee yet!"<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+Mother, O mother! of old I had never<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">One wish denied me, nor trouble to fret;</SPAN><BR>
+Now&mdash;must I cry out all vainly forever,&mdash;<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Mother, sweet mother,</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 3em">O sing, "Little brother,</SPAN><BR>
+Sleep, for thy mother bends over thee yet!"<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+Mother, O mother! must longing and sorrow<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Leave me in darkness, with eyes ever wet,</SPAN><BR>
+And never the hope of a meeting to-morrow?<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Answer me, mother,</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 3em">And sing, "Little brother,</SPAN><BR>
+Sleep, for thy mother bends over thee yet!"<BR>
+</P>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="chap160"></A>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P160"></A>160}</SPAN>
+
+<A NAME="img-160"></A>
+<CENTER>
+<IMG CLASS="imgcenter" SRC="images/img-160.jpg" ALT="What &quot;Old Santa&quot; overheard--headpiece" BORDER="0" WIDTH="201" HEIGHT="200">
+</CENTER>
+
+<BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+WHAT "OLD SANTA" OVERHEARD<BR>
+</H3>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+<I>'Tis said old Santa Claus one time</I><BR>
+<I>Told this joke on himself in rhyme:</I><BR>
+One Christmas, in the early din<BR>
+That ever leads the morning in,<BR>
+I heard the happy children shout<BR>
+In rapture at the toys turned out<BR>
+Of bulging little socks and shoes&mdash;<BR>
+A joy at which I could but choose<BR>
+To listen enviously, because<BR>
+I'm always just "Old Santa Claus,"&mdash;<BR>
+But ere my rising sigh had got<BR>
+To its first quaver at the thought,<BR>
+It broke in laughter, as I heard<BR>
+A little voice chirp like a bird,&mdash;<BR>
+</P>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P161"></A>161}</SPAN>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+"Old Santa's mighty good, I know.<BR>
+And awful rich&mdash;and he can go<BR>
+Down ever' chimbly anywhere<BR>
+In all the world!&mdash;But I don't care,<BR>
+<I>I</I> wouldn't trade with <I>him</I>, and be<BR>
+Old Santa Clause, and him be me,<BR>
+Fer all his toys and things!&mdash;and <I>I</I><BR>
+Know why, and bet you <I>he</I> knows why!&mdash;<BR>
+They <I>wuz</I> no Santa Clause when <I>he</I><BR>
+Wuz ist a little boy like me!"<BR>
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<A NAME="img-161"></A>
+<CENTER>
+<IMG CLASS="imgcenter" SRC="images/img-161.jpg" ALT="What &quot;Old Santa&quot; overheard--tailpiece" BORDER="0" WIDTH="234" HEIGHT="241">
+</CENTER>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="chap162"></A>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P162"></A>162}</SPAN>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+THE STEPMOTHER<BR>
+</H3>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+First she come to our house,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Tommy run and hid;</SPAN><BR>
+And Emily and Bob and me<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">We cried jus' like we did</SPAN><BR>
+When Mother died,&mdash;and we all said<BR>
+'At we all wisht 'at we was dead!<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+And Nurse she couldn't stop us;<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">And Pa he tried and tried,&mdash;</SPAN><BR>
+We sobbed and shook and wouldn't look,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">But only cried and cried;</SPAN><BR>
+And nen some one&mdash;we couldn't jus'<BR>
+Tell who&mdash;was cryin' same as us!<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+Our Stepmother!  Yes, it was her,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Her arms around us all&mdash;</SPAN><BR>
+'Cause Tom slid down the banister<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">And peeked in from the hall.&mdash;</SPAN><BR>
+And we all love her, too, because<BR>
+She's purt' nigh good as Mother was!<BR>
+</P>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="chap163"></A>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P163"></A>163}</SPAN>
+
+<A NAME="img-163"></A>
+<CENTER>
+<IMG CLASS="imgcenter" SRC="images/img-163.jpg" ALT="When old Jack died--headpiece" BORDER="0" WIDTH="264" HEIGHT="187">
+</CENTER>
+
+<BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+WHEN OLD JACK DIED<BR>
+</H3>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+When Old Jack died, we stayed from school (they said,<BR>
+At home, we needn't go that day), and none<BR>
+Of us ate any breakfast&mdash;only one,<BR>
+And that was Papa&mdash;and his eyes were red<BR>
+When he came round where we were, by the shed<BR>
+Where Jack was lying, half-way in the sun<BR>
+And half-way in the shade.  When we begun<BR>
+To cry out loud, Pa turned and dropped his head<BR>
+And went away; and Mamma, she went back<BR>
+Into the kitchen.  Then, for a long while,<BR>
+All to ourselves, like, we stood there and cried.<BR>
+We thought so many good things of Old Jack,<BR>
+And funny things&mdash;although we didn't smile&mdash;<BR>
+We couldn't only cry when Old Jack died.<BR>
+</P>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P164"></A>164}</SPAN>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+When Old Jack died, it seemed a human friend<BR>
+Had suddenly gone from us; that some face<BR>
+That we had loved to fondle and embrace<BR>
+From babyhood, no more would condescend<BR>
+To smile on us forever.  We might bend<BR>
+With tearful eyes above him, interlace<BR>
+Our chubby fingers o'er him, romp and race,<BR>
+Plead with him, call and coax&mdash;aye, we might send<BR>
+The old halloo up for him, whistle, hist,<BR>
+(If sobs had let us) or, as wildly vain,<BR>
+Snapped thumbs, called "Speak," and he had not replied;<BR>
+We might have gone down on our knees and kissed<BR>
+The tousled ears, and yet they must remain<BR>
+Deaf, motionless, we knew&mdash;when Old Jack died.<BR>
+</P>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P165"></A>165}</SPAN>
+
+<A NAME="img-165"></A>
+<CENTER>
+<IMG CLASS="imgcenter" SRC="images/img-165.jpg" ALT="We couldn't only cry when old Jack died" BORDER="0" WIDTH="407" HEIGHT="560">
+</CENTER>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P167"></A>167}</SPAN>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+When Old Jack died, it seemed to us, some way,<BR>
+That all the other dogs in town were pained<BR>
+With our bereavement, and some that were chained,<BR>
+Even, unslipped their collars on that day<BR>
+To visit Jack in state, as though to pay<BR>
+A last, sad tribute there, while neighbors craned<BR>
+Their heads above the high board fence, and deigned<BR>
+To sigh "Poor Dog!" remembering how they<BR>
+Had cuffed him, when alive, perchance, because,<BR>
+For love of them he leaped to lick their hands&mdash;<BR>
+Now, that he could not, were they satisfied?<BR>
+We children thought that, as we crossed his paws,<BR>
+And o'er his grave, 'way down the bottom-lands,<BR>
+Wrote "Our First Love Lies Here," when Old Jack died.<BR>
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<A NAME="img-167"></A>
+<CENTER>
+<IMG CLASS="imgcenter" SRC="images/img-167.jpg" ALT="When old Jack died--tailpiece" BORDER="0" WIDTH="267" HEIGHT="171">
+</CENTER>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="chap168"></A>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P168"></A>168}</SPAN>
+
+<A NAME="img-168"></A>
+<CENTER>
+<IMG CLASS="imgcenter" SRC="images/img-168.jpg" ALT="That night--headpiece" BORDER="0" WIDTH="226" HEIGHT="236">
+</CENTER>
+
+<BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+THAT NIGHT<BR>
+</H3>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+You and I, and that night, with its perfume and glory!&mdash;<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">The scent of the locusts&mdash;the light of the moon;</SPAN><BR>
+And the violin weaving the waltzers a story,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Enmeshing their feet in the weft of the tune,</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">Till their shadows uncertain</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">Reeled round on the curtain,</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">While under the trellis we drank in the June.</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P169"></A>169}</SPAN>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+Soaked through with the midnight the cedars were sleeping,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Their shadowy tresses outlined in the bright</SPAN><BR>
+Crystal, moon-smitten mists, where the fountain's heart, leaping<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Forever, forever burst, full with delight;</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">And its lisp on my spirit</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">Fell faint as that near it</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Whose love like a lily bloomed out in the night.</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+O your glove was an odorous sachet of blisses!<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">The breath of your fan was a breeze from Cathay!</SPAN><BR>
+And the rose at your throat was a nest of spilled kisses!&mdash;<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">And the music!&mdash;in fancy I hear it to-day,</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">As I sit here, confessing</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">Our secret, and blessing</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">My rival who found us, and waltzed you away.</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<A NAME="img-169"></A>
+<CENTER>
+<IMG CLASS="imgcenter" SRC="images/img-169.jpg" ALT="That night--tailpiece" BORDER="0" WIDTH="198" HEIGHT="159">
+</CENTER>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="chap170"></A>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P170"></A>170}</SPAN>
+
+<A NAME="img-170"></A>
+<CENTER>
+<IMG CLASS="imgcenter" SRC="images/img-170.jpg" ALT="To Almon Keefer--headpiece" BORDER="0" WIDTH="193" HEIGHT="219">
+</CENTER>
+
+<BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+TO ALMON KEEFER<BR>
+</H3>
+
+<H4 ALIGN="center">
+INSCRIBED IN "TALES OF THE OCEAN"<BR>
+</H4>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+This first book that I ever knew<BR>
+Was read aloud to me by you&mdash;<BR>
+Friend of my boyhood, therefore take<BR>
+It back from me, for old times' sake&mdash;<BR>
+The selfsame "Tales" first read to me,<BR>
+Under "the old sweet apple tree,"<BR>
+Ere I myself could read such great<BR>
+Big words,&mdash;but listening all elate,<BR>
+At your interpreting, until<BR>
+Brain, heart and soul were all athrill<BR>
+With wonder, awe, and sheer excess<BR>
+Of wildest childish happiness.<BR>
+</P>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P171"></A>171}</SPAN>
+
+<A NAME="img-171"></A>
+<CENTER>
+<IMG CLASS="imgcenter" SRC="images/img-171.jpg" ALT="Under &quot;the old sweet apple tree&quot;" BORDER="0" WIDTH="412" HEIGHT="570">
+</CENTER>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P173"></A>173}</SPAN>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+So take the book again&mdash;forget<BR>
+All else,&mdash;long years, lost hopes, regret;<BR>
+Sighs for the joys we ne'er attain,<BR>
+Prayers we have lifted all in vain;<BR>
+Tears for the faces seen no more,<BR>
+Once as the roses at the door!<BR>
+Take the enchanted book&mdash;And lo,<BR>
+On grassy swards of long ago,<BR>
+Sprawl out again, beneath the shade<BR>
+The breezy old-home orchard made,<BR>
+The veriest barefoot boy indeed&mdash;<BR>
+And I will listen as you read.<BR>
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<A NAME="img-173"></A>
+<IMG CLASS="imgright" SRC="images/img-173.jpg" ALT="To Almon Keefer--tailpiece" BORDER="0" WIDTH="189" HEIGHT="192">
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="chap174"></A>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P174"></A>174}</SPAN>
+
+<A NAME="img-174"></A>
+<IMG CLASS="imgleft" SRC="images/img-174.jpg" ALT="To the quiet observer--headpiece" BORDER="0" WIDTH="279" HEIGHT="214">
+
+<BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+TO THE QUIET OBSERVER<BR>
+</H3>
+
+<H4 ALIGN="center">
+AFTER HIS LONG SILENCE<BR>
+</H4>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+Dear old friend of us all in need<BR>
+Who know the worth of a friend indeed,<BR>
+How rejoiced are we all to learn<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">Of your glad return.</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P175"></A>175}</SPAN>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+We who have missed your voice so long&mdash;<BR>
+Even as March might miss the song<BR>
+Of the sugar-bird in the maples when<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">They're tapped again.</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+Even as the memory of these<BR>
+<I>Blended</I> sweets,&mdash;the sap of the trees<BR>
+And the song of the birds, and the old camp too,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">We think of you.</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+Hail to you, then, with welcomes deep<BR>
+As grateful hearts may laugh or weep!&mdash;<BR>
+You give us not only the bird that sings,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">But all good things.</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<A NAME="img-175"></A>
+<IMG CLASS="imgright" SRC="images/img-175.jpg" ALT="To the quiet observer--tailpiece" BORDER="0" WIDTH="169" HEIGHT="195">
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="chap176"></A>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P176"></A>176}</SPAN>
+
+<A NAME="img-176"></A>
+<IMG CLASS="imgleft" SRC="images/img-176.jpg" ALT="Reach your hand to me--headpiece" BORDER="0" WIDTH="184" HEIGHT="238">
+
+<BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+REACH YOUR HAND TO ME<BR>
+</H3>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+Reach your hand to me, my friend,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">With its heartiest caress&mdash;</SPAN><BR>
+Sometime there will come an end<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">To its present faithfulness&mdash;</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">Sometime I may ask in vain</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">For the touch of it again,</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">When between us land or sea</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">Holds it ever back from me.</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P177"></A>177}</SPAN>
+
+<A NAME="img-177"></A>
+<CENTER>
+<IMG CLASS="imgcenter" SRC="images/img-177.jpg" ALT="Reach your hand to me, my friend" BORDER="0" WIDTH="405" HEIGHT="560">
+</CENTER>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P179"></A>179}</SPAN>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+Sometime I may need it so,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Groping somewhere in the night,</SPAN><BR>
+It will seem to me as though<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Just a touch, however light,</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">Would make all the darkness day,</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">And along some sunny way</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">Lead me through an April-shower</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">Of my tears to this fair hour.</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+O the present is too sweet<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">To go on forever thus!</SPAN><BR>
+Round the corner of the street<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Who can say what waits for us?&mdash;</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">Meeting&mdash;greeting, night and day,</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">Faring each the selfsame way&mdash;</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">Still somewhere the path must end&mdash;</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">Reach your hand to me, my friend!</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<A NAME="img-179"></A>
+<IMG CLASS="imgright" SRC="images/img-179.jpg" ALT="Reach your hand to me--tailpiece" BORDER="0" WIDTH="132" HEIGHT="160">
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="chap180"></A>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P180"></A>180}</SPAN>
+
+<A NAME="img-180"></A>
+<CENTER>
+<IMG CLASS="imgcenter" SRC="images/img-180.jpg" ALT="The dead joke and the funny man--headpiece" BORDER="0" WIDTH="214" HEIGHT="199">
+</CENTER>
+
+<BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+THE DEAD JOKE AND THE FUNNY MAN<BR>
+</H3>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+Long years ago, a funny man,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Flushed with a strange delight,</SPAN><BR>
+Sat down and wrote a funny thing<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">All in the solemn night;</SPAN><BR>
+And as he wrote he clapped his hands<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">And laughed with all his might.</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">For it was such a funny thing,</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">O, such a very funny thing,</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">This wonderfully funny thing,</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">He</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">Laughed</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 3em">Outright.</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P181"></A>181}</SPAN>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+And so it was this funny man<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">Printed this funny thing&mdash;</SPAN><BR>
+Forgot it, too, nor ever thought<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">It worth remembering,</SPAN><BR>
+Till but a day or two ago.<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">(Ah! what may changes bring!)</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">He found this selfsame funny thing</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">In an exchange&mdash;"O, funny thing!"</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">He cried, "You dear old funny thing!"</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 1em">And</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">Sobbed</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 3em">Outright.</SPAN><BR>
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<A NAME="img-181"></A>
+<IMG CLASS="imgright" SRC="images/img-181.jpg" ALT="The dead joke and the funny man--tailpiece" BORDER="0" WIDTH="268" HEIGHT="183">
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="chap182"></A>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P182"></A>182}</SPAN>
+
+<A NAME="img-182"></A>
+<CENTER>
+<IMG CLASS="imgcenter" SRC="images/img-182.jpg" ALT="America's Thanksgiving--headpiece" BORDER="0" WIDTH="156" HEIGHT="220">
+</CENTER>
+
+<BR>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+AMERICA'S THANKSGIVING<BR>
+</H3>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+1900<BR>
+</H3>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+Father all bountiful, in mercy bear<BR>
+With this our universal voice of prayer&mdash;<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">The voice that needs must be</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">Upraised in thanks to Thee,</SPAN><BR>
+O Father, from Thy children everywhere.<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+A multitudinous voice, wherein we fain<BR>
+Wouldst have Thee hear no lightest sob of pain&mdash;<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">No murmur of distress,</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">Nor moan of loneliness,</SPAN><BR>
+Nor drip of tears, though soft as summer rain.<BR>
+</P>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P183"></A>183}</SPAN>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+And, Father, give us first to comprehend,<BR>
+No ill can come from Thee; lean Thou and lend<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">Us clearer sight to see</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">Our boundless debt to Thee,</SPAN><BR>
+Since all Thy deeds are blessings, in the end.<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+And let us feel and know that, being Thine,<BR>
+We are inheritors of hearts divine,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">And hands endowed with skill,</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">And strength to work Thy will,</SPAN><BR>
+And fashion to fulfilment Thy design.<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+So, let us thank Thee, with all self aside,<BR>
+Nor any lingering taint of mortal pride;<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">As here to Thee we dare</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">Uplift our faltering prayer,</SPAN><BR>
+Lend it some fervor of the glorified.<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+We thank Thee that our land is loved of Thee<BR>
+The blessed home of thrift and industry,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">With ever-open door</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">Of welcome to the poor&mdash;</SPAN><BR>
+Thy shielding hand o'er all abidingly.<BR>
+</P>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P184"></A>184}</SPAN>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+E'en thus we thank Thee for the wrong that grew<BR>
+Into a right that heroes battled to,<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">With brothers long estranged,</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">Once more as brothers ranged</SPAN><BR>
+Beneath the red and white and starry blue.<BR>
+</P>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+Ay, thanks&mdash;though tremulous the thanks expressed&mdash;<BR>
+Thanks for the battle at its worst, and best&mdash;<BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">For all the clanging fray</SPAN><BR>
+<SPAN STYLE="margin-left: 2em">Whose discord dies away</SPAN><BR>
+Into a pastoral-song of peace and rest.<BR>
+</P>
+
+<BR><BR><BR>
+
+<A NAME="chap185"></A>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P185"></A>185}</SPAN>
+
+<A NAME="img-185"></A>
+<CENTER>
+<IMG CLASS="imgcenter" SRC="images/img-185.jpg" ALT="Old Indiany--headpiece" BORDER="0" WIDTH="260" HEIGHT="214">
+</CENTER>
+
+<H3 ALIGN="center">
+OLD INDIANY<BR>
+</H3>
+
+<H4 ALIGN="center">
+INTENDED FOR A DINNER OF THE INDIANA SOCIETY OF CHICAGO<BR>
+</H4>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+Old Indiany, 'course we know<BR>
+Is first, and best, and <I>most</I>, also,<BR>
+Of <I>all</I> the States' whole forty-four:&mdash;<BR>
+She's first in ever'thing, that's shore!&mdash;<BR>
+And <I>best</I> in ever'way as yet<BR>
+Made known to man; and you kin bet<BR>
+She's <I>most</I>, because she won't confess<BR>
+She ever was, or will be, <I>less</I>!<BR>
+And yet, fer all her proud array<BR>
+Of sons, how many gits away!&mdash;<BR>
+</P>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P186"></A>186}</SPAN>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+No doubt about her bein' <I>great</I>,<BR>
+But, fellers, she's a leaky State!<BR>
+And them that boasts the most about<BR>
+Her, them's the ones that's dribbled out.<BR>
+Law! jes' to think of all you boys<BR>
+'Way over here in Illinoise<BR>
+A-celebratin', like ye air,<BR>
+Old Indiany, 'way back there<BR>
+In the dark ages, so to speak,<BR>
+A-prayin' for ye once a week<BR>
+And wonderin' what's a-keepin' you<BR>
+From comin', like you ort to do.<BR>
+You're all a-lookin' well, and like<BR>
+You wasn't "sidin' up the pike,"<BR>
+As the tramp-shoemaker said<BR>
+When "he sacked the boss and shed<BR>
+The blame town, to hunt fer one<BR>
+Where they didn't work fer fun!"<BR>
+Lookin' <I>extry</I> well, I'd say,<BR>
+Your old home so fur away.&mdash;<BR>
+</P>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P187"></A>187}</SPAN>
+
+<A NAME="img-187"></A>
+<CENTER>
+<IMG CLASS="imgcenter" SRC="images/img-187.jpg" ALT="But, fellers, she's a leaky State!" BORDER="0" WIDTH="411" HEIGHT="566">
+</CENTER>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P189"></A>189}</SPAN>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+Maybe, though, like the old jour.,<BR>
+Fun hain't all yer workin' fer.<BR>
+So you've found a job that pays<BR>
+Better than in them old days<BR>
+You was on The Weekly Press,<BR>
+Heppin' run things, more er less;<BR>
+Er a-learnin' telegraph-<BR>
+Operatin', with a half-<BR>
+Notion of the tinner's trade,<BR>
+Er the dusty man's that laid<BR>
+Out designs on marble and<BR>
+Hacked out little lambs by hand,<BR>
+And chewed finecut as he wrought,<BR>
+"Shapin' from his bitter thought"<BR>
+Some squshed mutterings to say,&mdash;<BR>
+"Yes, hard work, and porer pay!"<BR>
+Er you'd kind o' thought the far-<BR>
+Gazin' kuss that owned a car<BR>
+And took pictures in it, had<BR>
+Jes' the snap you wanted&mdash;bad!<BR>
+And you even wondered why<BR>
+He kep' foolin' with his sky-<BR>
+Light the same on shiny days<BR>
+As when rainin'.  ('T leaked always.)<BR>
+</P>
+
+<SPAN CLASS="pagenum">{<A NAME="P190"></A>190}</SPAN>
+
+<P CLASS="poem">
+Wondered what strange things was hid<BR>
+In there when he shet the door<BR>
+And smelt like a burnt drug store<BR>
+Next some orchard-trees, i swan!<BR>
+With whole roasted apples on!<BR>
+That's why Ade is, here of late,<BR>
+Buyin' in the dear old state,&mdash;<BR>
+So's to cut it up in plots<BR>
+Of both town and country lots.<BR>
+</P>
+
+<BR>
+
+<A NAME="img-190"></A>
+<IMG CLASS="imgright" SRC="images/img-190.jpg" ALT="Old Indiany--tailpiece" BORDER="0" WIDTH="157" HEIGHT="186">
+
+<BR><BR><BR><BR>
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author	Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org>	2025-10-15 02:02:47 -0700
committer	Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org>	2025-10-15 02:02:47 -0700
commit	69a47de3268d158ee473ca18f50730a83b262d8d (patch)
tree	0ba97b21be72d7ce845cfff9b08e6f8ea49b6471 /23111-h