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diff --git a/24434.txt b/24434.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..eb00292 --- /dev/null +++ b/24434.txt @@ -0,0 +1,8583 @@ +Project Gutenberg's The Wit and Humor of America, Volume X (of X), by Various + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Wit and Humor of America, Volume X (of X) + +Author: Various + +Editor: Marshall P. Wilder + +Release Date: January 26, 2008 [EBook #24434] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WIT AND HUMOR *** + + + + +Produced by Suzanne Lybarger, Annie McGuire, Brian Janes +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.net + + + + + + + + + +********************************************************** + Transcriber's Note: To aid in finding items through + the index, the following list contains the page + numbers covered in each volume: + + Volume 1 - 1 - 220 + Volume 2 - 221 - 402 + Volume 3 - 403 - 584 + Volume 4 - 585 - 802 + Volume 5 is not Library Edition and has + different page numbering + Volume 6 - 985 - 1216 + Volume 7 - 1217 - 1398 + Volume 8 - 1399 - 1634 + Volume 9 - 1635 - 1800 + Volume 10 - 1801 - 2042 +********************************************************** + + + + +Library Edition + +THE WIT AND HUMOR OF AMERICA + +In Ten Volumes + +VOL. X + + + + +[Illustration: FRANK L. STANTON] + + + + +THE WIT AND HUMOR OF AMERICA + +EDITED BY MARSHALL P. WILDER + +_Volume X_ + + +Funk & Wagnalls Company +New York and London + +Copyright MDCCCCVII, BOBBS-MERRILL COMPANY +Copyright MDCCCCXI, THE THWING COMPANY + + + + +CONTENTS + + PAGE + + Araminta and the Automobile Charles Battell Loomis 1825 + At Aunty's House James Whitcomb Riley 2007 + Backsliding Brother, The Frank L. Stanton 1972 + Biggs' Bar Howard D. Sutherland 1967 + Bookworm's Plaint, A Clinton Scollard 1878 + Breitmann in Politics Charles Godfrey Leland 1943 + Concord Love Song, A James Jeffrey Roche 1913 + Contentment Oliver Wendell Holmes 1952 + Demon of the Study, The John Greenleaf Whittier 1869 + Der Oak Und Der Vine Charles Follen Adams 1823 + Double-Dyed Deceiver, A O. Henry 1927 + Dum Vivimus Vigilamus John Paul 2005 + Evidence in the Case of + Smith vs. Jones, The Samuel L. Clemens 1918 + Fall Styles in Faces Wallace Irwin 1992 + "Festina Lente" Robert J. Burdette 2016 + Genial Idiot Discusses Leap + Year, The John Kendrick Bangs 2018 + Great Prize Fight, The Samuel L. Clemens 1903 + Had a Set of Double Teeth Holman F. Day 1994 + Height of the Ridiculous, The Oliver Wendell Holmes 1832 + Her Brother: Enfant Terrible Edmund L. Sabin 2001 + Hezekiah Bedott's Opinion Frances M. Whicher 1893 + His Grandmother's Way Frank L. Stanton 1901 + Invisible Prince, The Henry Harland 1836 + Jackpot, The Ironquill 2003 + Jacob Phoebe Cary 1898 + Johnny's Pa Wilbur D. Nesbit 1802 + Lay of Ancient Rome, A Thomas Ybarra 2013 + Little Bopeep and Little Boy Blue Samuel Minturn Peck 2015 + Love Song Charles Godfrey Leland 1950 + Maxims Benjamin Franklin 1804 + Meeting, The S. E. Riser 1915 + Mister Rabbit's Love Affair Frank L. Stanton 1887 + Mother of Four, A Juliet Wilbor Tompkins 1976 + Mothers' Meeting, A Madeline Bridges 1886 + Nevada Sketches Samuel L. Clemens 1805 + New Year Idyl, A Eugene Field 2011 + Old-Time Singer, An Frank L. Stanton 1941 + Oncl' Antoine on 'Change Wallace Bruce Amsbary 1891 + Our Hired Girl James Whitcomb Riley 1888 + Plain Language from Truthful James Bret Harte 1997 + Poe-'em of Passion, A Charles F. Lummis 1879 + Possession William J. Lampton 2000 + Real Diary of a Real Boy, The Henry A. Shute 1881 + Reason, The Ironquill 1890 + Rubaiyat of Mathieu Lattellier Wallace Bruce Amsbary 1965 + Settin' by the Fire Frank L. Stanton 1821 + Shining Mark, A Ironquill 1877 + "There's a Bower of Bean-Vines" Phoebe Cary 1916 + To Bary Jade Charles Follen Adams 1899 + Tom's Money Harriett Prescott Spofford 1955 + Trial that Job Missed, The Kennett Harris 1917 + Trouble-Proof Edwin L. Sabin 1801 + Uncle Bentley and the Roosters Hayden Carruth 1873 + Unsatisfied Yearning R. K. Munkittrick 1835 + What Lack We Yet Robert J. Burdette 1897 + When Lovely Woman Phoebe Cary 1834 + Whisperer, The Ironquill 1822 + Why Wait for Death and Time? Bert Leston Taylor 1866 + Willy and the Lady Gelett Burgess 2009 + Winter Dusk R. K. Munkittrick 1975 + Winter Joys Eugene Field 1868 + Ye Legende of Sir Yroncladde Wilbur D. Nesbitt 1973 + +COMPLETE INDEX AT THE END OF VOLUME X. + + + + +TROUBLE-PROOF[1] + +BY EDWIN L. SABIN + + + Never rains where Jim is-- + People kickin', whinin'; + He goes round insistin',-- + "Sun is _almost_ shinin'!" + + Never's hot where Jim is-- + When the town is sweatin'; + He jes' sets and answers,-- + "Well, _I_ ain't a-frettin'!" + + Never's cold where Jim is-- + None of _us_ misdoubt it, + Seein' we're nigh frozen! + _He_ "ain't _thought_ about it!" + + Things that rile up others + Never seem to strike him! + "Trouble-proof," I call it,-- + Wisht that I was like him! + +FOOTNOTES: + +[1] Lippincott's Magazine. + + + + +JOHNNY'S PA + +BY WILBUR D. NESBIT + + + My pa--he always went to school, + He says, an' studied hard. + W'y, when he's just as big as me + He knew things by the yard! + Arithmetic? He knew it all + From dividend to sum; + But when he tells me how it was, + My grandma, she says "Hum!" + + My pa--he always got the prize + For never bein' late; + An' when they studied joggerfy + He knew 'bout every state. + He says he knew the rivers, an' + Knew all their outs an' ins; + But when he tells me all o' that, + My grandma, she just grins. + + My pa, he never missed a day + A-goin' to the school, + An' never played no hookey, nor + Forgot the teacher's rule; + An' every class he's ever in, + The rest he always led. + My grandma, when pa talks that way, + Just laughs an' shakes her head. + My grandma says 'at boys is boys, + The same as pas is pas, + An' when I ast her what she means + She says it is "because." + She says 'at little boys is best + When they grows up to men, + Because they know how good they was, + An' tell their children, then! + + + + +MAXIMS + +BY BENJAMIN FRANKLIN + + +Never spare the parson's wine, nor the baker's pudding. + +A house without woman or firelight is like a body without soul or +spirit. + +Kings and bears often worry their keepers. + +Light purse, heavy heart. + +He's a fool that makes his doctor his heir. + +Ne'er take a wife till thou hast a house (and a fire) to put her in. + +To lengthen thy life, lessen thy meals. + +He that drinks fast pays slow. + +He is ill-clothed who is bare of virtue. + +Beware of meat twice boil'd, and an old foe reconcil'd. + +The heart of a fool is in his mouth, but the mouth of a wise man is in +his heart. + +He that is rich need not live sparingly, and he that can live sparingly +need not be rich. + +He that waits upon fortune is never sure of a dinner. + + + + +NEVADA SKETCHES + +BY SAMUEL L. CLEMENS + +IN CARSON CITY + + +I feel very much as if I had just awakened out of a long sleep. I +attribute it to the fact that I have slept the greater part of the time +for the last two days and nights. On Wednesday, I sat up all night, in +Virginia, in order to be up early enough to take the five o'clock stage +on Thursday morning. I was on time. It was a great success. I had a +cheerful trip down to Carson, in company with that incessant talker, +Joseph T. Goodman. I never saw him flooded with such a flow of spirits +before. He restrained his conversation, though, until we had traveled +three or four miles, and were just crossing the divide between Silver +City and Spring Valley, when he thrust his head out of the dark stage, +and allowed a pallid light from the coach lamps to illuminate his +features for a moment, after which he returned to darkness again, and +sighed and said, "Damn it!" with some asperity. I asked him who he meant +it for, and he said, "The weather out there." As we approached Carson, +at about half past seven o'clock, he thrust his head out again, and +gazed earnestly in the direction of that city--after which he took it in +again, with his nose very much frosted. He propped the end of that organ +upon the end of his finger, and looked pensively upon it--which had the +effect of making him cross-eyed--and remarked, "O, damn it!" with great +bitterness. I asked him what was up this time, and he said, "The cold, +damp fog--it is worse than the weather." This was his last. He never +spoke again in my hearing. He went on over the mountains with a lady +fellow passenger from here. That will stop his chatter, you know, for he +seldom speaks in the presence of ladies. + +In the evening I felt a mighty inclination to go to a party somewhere. +There was to be one at Governor J. Neely Johnson's, and I went there and +asked permission to stand around a while. This was granted in the most +hospitable manner, and the vision of plain quadrilles soothed my weary +soul. I felt particularly comfortable, for if there is one thing more +grateful to my feelings than another, it is a new house--a large house, +with its ceilings embellished with snowy mouldings; its floors glowing +with warm-tinted carpets, with cushioned chairs and sofas to sit on, and +a piano to listen to; with fires so arranged you can see them, and know +there is no humbug about it; with walls garnished with pictures, and +above all mirrors, wherein you may gaze and always find something to +admire, you know. I have a great regard for a good house, and a girlish +passion for mirrors. Horace Smith, Esq., is also very fond of mirrors. +He came and looked in the glass for an hour with me. Finally it +cracked--the night was pretty cold--and Horace Smith's reflection was +split right down the centre. But where his face had been the damage was +greatest--a hundred cracks converged to his reflected nose, like spokes +from the hub of a wagon wheel. It was the strangest freak the weather +has done this winter. And yet the parlor seemed warm and comfortable, +too. + +About nine o'clock the Unreliable came and asked Gov. Johnson to let him +stand on the porch. The creature has got more impudence than any person +I ever saw in my life. Well, he stood and flattened his nose against the +parlor window, and looked hungry and vicious--he always looks that +way--until Colonel Musser arrived with some ladies, when he actually +fell in their wake and came swaggering in looking as if he thought he +had been anxiously expected. He had on my fine kid boots, my plug hat, +my white kid gloves (with slices of his prodigious hands grinning +through the bursted seams), and my heavy gold repeater, which I had been +offered thousands and thousands of dollars for many and many a time. He +took those articles out of my trunk, at Washoe City, about a month ago, +when we went there to report the proceedings of the convention. The +Unreliable intruded himself upon me in his cordial way, and said, "How +are you, Mark, old boy? When d'you come down? It's brilliant, ain't it? +Appear to enjoy themselves, don't they? Lend a fellow two bits, can't +you?" He always winds up his remarks that way. He appears to have an +insatiable craving for two bits. + +The music struck up just then and saved me. The next moment I was far, +far at sea in the plain quadrille. We carried it through with +distinguished success; that is, we got as far as "balance around" and +"half-a-man-left," when I smelled hot whisky punch, or something of that +nature. I tracked the scent through several rooms, and finally +discovered a large bowl from which it emanated. I found the omnipresent +Unreliable there, also. He set down an empty goblet and remarked that he +was diligently seeking the gentlemen's dressing room. I would have shown +him where it was, but it occurred to him that the supper table and the +punch bowl ought not to be left unprotected; wherefore we stayed there +and watched them until the punch entirely evaporated. A servant came in +then, to replenish the bowl, and we left the refreshments in his charge. +We probably did wrong, but we were anxious to join the hazy dance. The +dance was hazier than usual, after that. Sixteen couples on the floor at +once, with a few dozen spectators scattered around, is calculated to +have its effect in a brilliantly lighted parlor, I believe. Everything +seemed to buzz, at any rate. After all the modern dances had been danced +several times, the people adjourned to the supper-room. I found my +wardrobe out there, as usual, with the Unreliable in it. His old +distemper was upon him: he was desperately hungry. I never saw a man eat +as much as he did in my life. I have various items of his supper here in +my note-book. First, he ate a plate of sandwiches; then he ate a +handsomely iced poundcake; then he gobbled a dish of chicken salad; +after which he ate a roast pig; after that, a quantity of blanc-mange; +then he threw in several dozen glasses of punch to fortify his appetite, +and finished his monstrous repast with a roast turkey. Dishes of +brandy-grapes, and jellies, and such things, and pyramids of fruits +melted away before him as shadows fly at the sun's approach. I am of the +opinion that none of his ancestors were present when the five thousand +were miraculously fed in the old Scriptural times. I base my opinion on +the twelve bushels of scraps and the little fishes that remained over +after that feast. If the Unreliable himself had been there, the +provisions would just about have held out, I think. + +... At about two o'clock in the morning the pleasant party broke up and +the crowd of guests distributed themselves around town to their +respective homes; and after thinking the fun all over again, I went to +bed at four o'clock. So having been awake forty-eight hours, I slept +forty-eight, in order to get even again. + + +CITY MARSHAL PERRY + +John Van Buren Perry, recently re-elected City Marshal of Virginia City, +was born a long time ago, in County Kerry, Ireland, of poor but honest +parents, who were descendants, beyond question, of a house of high +antiquity. The founder of it was distinguished for his eloquence; he was +the property of one Baalam, and received honorable mention in the Bible. + +John Van Buren Perry removed to the United States in 1792--after having +achieved a high gastronomical reputation by creating the first famine in +his native land--and established himself at Kinderhook, New Jersey, as a +teacher of vocal and instrumental music. His eldest son, Martin Van +Buren, was educated there, and was afterwards elected President of the +United States; his grandson, of the same name, is now a prominent New +York politician, and is known in the East as "Prince John;" he keeps up +a constant and affectionate correspondence with his worthy grandfather, +who sells him feet in some of his richest wildcat claims from time to +time. + +While residing at Kinderhook, Jack Perry was appointed Commodore of the +United States Navy, and he forthwith proceeded to Lake Erie and fought +the mighty marine conflict, which blazes upon the pages of history as +"Perry's Victory." In consequence of this exploit, he narrowly escaped +the Presidency. + +Several years ago Commodore Perry was appointed Commissioner +Extraordinary to the Imperial Court of Japan, with unlimited power to +treat. It is hardly worth while to mention that he never exercised that +power; he never treated anybody in that country, although he patiently +submitted to a vast amount of that sort of thing when the opportunity +was afforded him at the expense of the Japanese officials. He returned +from his mission full of honors and foreign whisky, and was welcomed +home again by the plaudits of a grateful nation. + +After the war was ended, Mr. Perry removed to Providence, Rhode Island, +where he produced a complete revolution in medical science by inventing +the celebrated "Pain Killer" which bears his name. He manufactured this +liniment by the ship-load, and spread it far and wide over the suffering +world; not a bottle left his establishment without his beneficent +portrait upon the label, whereby, in time, his features became as well +known unto burned and mutilated children as Jack the Giant Killer's. + +When pain had ceased throughout the universe Mr. Perry fell to writing +for a livelihood, and for years and years he poured out his soul in +pleasing and effeminate poetry.... His very first effort, commencing: + + "How doth the little busy bee + Improve each shining hour," etc.-- + +gained him a splendid literary reputation, and from that time forward no +Sunday-school library was complete without a full edition of his +plaintive and sentimental "Perry-Gorics." After great research and +profound study of his subject, he produced that wonderful gem which is +known in every land as "The Young Mother's Apostrophe to Her Infant," +beginning: + + "Fie! fie! oo itty bitty pooty sing! + To poke oo footsy-tootsys into momma's eye!" + +This inspired poem had a tremendous run, and carried Perry's fame into +every nursery in the civilized world. But he was not destined to wear +his laurels undisturbed: England, with monstrous perfidy, at once +claimed the "Apostrophe" for her favorite son, Martin Farquhar Tupper, +and sent up a howl of vindictive abuse from her polluted press against +our beloved Perry. With one accord, the American people rose up in his +defense, and a devastating war was only averted by a public denial of +the paternity of the poem by the great Proverbial over his own +signature. This noble act of Mr. Tupper gained him a high place in the +affection of this people, and his sweet platitudes have been read here +with an ever augmented spirit of tolerance since that day. + +The conduct of England toward Mr. Perry told upon his constitution to +such an extent that at one time it was feared the gentle bard would fade +and flicker out altogether; wherefore, the solicitude of influential +officials was aroused in his behalf, and through their generosity he was +provided with an asylum in Sing Sing prison, a quiet retreat in the +state of New York. Here he wrote his last great poem, beginning: + + "Let dogs delight to bark and bite, + For God hath made them so-- + Your little hands were never made + To tear out each other's eyes with--" + +and then proceeded to learn the shoemaker's trade in his new home, under +the distinguished masters employed by the commonwealth. + +Ever since Mr. Perry arrived at man's estate his prodigious feet have +been a subject of complaint and annoyance to those communities which +have known the honor of his presence. In 1835, during a great leather +famine, many people were obliged to wear wooden shoes, and Mr. Perry, +for the sake of economy, transferred his bootmaking patronage from the +tan-yard which had before enjoyed his custom, to an undertaker's +establishment--that is to say, he wore coffins. At that time he was a +member of Congress from New Jersey, and occupied a seat in front of the +Speaker's throne. He had the uncouth habit of propping his feet upon his +desk during prayer by the chaplain, and thus completely hiding that +officer from every eye save that of Omnipotence alone. So long as the +Hon. Mr. Perry wore orthodox leather boots the clergyman submitted to +this infliction and prayed behind them in singular solitude, under mild +protest; but when he arose one morning to offer up his regular petition, +and beheld the cheerful apparition of Jack Perry's coffins confronting +him, "The jolly old bum went under the table like a sick porpus" (as Mr. +P. feelingly remarks), "and never shot off his mouth in that shanty +again." + +Mr. Perry's first appearance on the Pacific Coast was upon the boards of +the San Francisco theaters in the character of "Old Pete" in Dion +Boucicault's "Octoroon." So excellent was his delineation of that +celebrated character that "Perry's Pete" was for a long time regarded as +the climax of histrionic perfection. + +Since John Van Buren Perry has resided in Nevada Territory, he has +employed his talents in acting as City Marshal of Virginia, and in +abusing me because I am an orphan and a long way from home, and can +therefore be persecuted with impunity. He was re-elected day before +yesterday, and his first official act was an attempt to get me drunk on +champagne furnished to the Board of Aldermen by other successful +candidates, so that he might achieve the honor and glory of getting me +in the station-house for once in his life. Although he failed in his +object, he followed me down C street and handcuffed me in front of Tom +Peasley's, but officers Birdsall and Larkin and Brokaw rebelled against +this unwarranted assumption of authority, and released me--whereupon I +was about to punish Jack Perry severely, when he offered me six bits to +hand him down to posterity through the medium of this Biography, and I +closed the contract. But after all, I never expect to get the money. + + +A SUNDAY IN CARSON + +I arrived in this noisy and bustling town of Carson at noon to-day, per +Layton's express. We made pretty good time from Virginia, and might have +made much better, but for Horace Smith, Esq., who rode on the box seat +and kept the stage so much by the head she wouldn't steer. I went to +church, of course,--I always go to church when I--when I go to +church--as it were. I got there just in time to hear the closing hymn, +and also to hear the Rev. Mr. White give out a long-metre doxology, +which the choir tried to sing to a short-metre tune. But there wasn't +music enough to go around: consequently, the effect was rather singular, +than otherwise. They sang the most interesting parts of each line, +though, and charged the balance to "profit and loss;" this rendered the +general intent and meaning of the doxology considerably mixed, as far as +the congregation were concerned, but inasmuch as it was not addressed to +them, anyhow, I thought it made no particular difference. + +By an easy and pleasant transition, I went from church to jail. It was +only just down stairs--for they save men eternally in the second story +of the new court house, and damn them for life in the first. Sheriff +Gasheric has a handsome double office fronting on the street, and its +walls are gorgeously decorated with iron convict-jewelry. In the rear +are two rows of cells, built of bomb-proof masonry and furnished with +strong iron doors and resistless locks and bolts. There was but one +prisoner--Swazey, the murderer of Derrickson--and he was writing; I do +not know what his subject was, but he appeared to be handling it in a +way which gave him great satisfaction.... + + +ADVICE TO THE UNRELIABLE ON CHURCH-GOING + +In the first place, I must impress upon you that when you are dressing +for church, as a general thing, you mix your perfumes too much; your +fragrance is sometimes oppressive; you saturate yourself with cologne +and bergamot, until you make a sort of Hamlet's Ghost of yourself, and +no man can decide, with the first whiff, whether you bring with you air +from Heaven or from hell. Now, rectify this matter as soon as possible; +last Sunday you smelled like a secretary to a consolidated drug store +and barber shop. And you came and sat in the same pew with me; now don't +do that again. + +In the next place when you design coming to church, don't lie in bed +until half past ten o'clock and then come in looking all swelled and +torpid, like a doughnut. Do reflect upon it, and show some respect for +your personal appearance hereafter. + +There is another matter, also, which I wish to remonstrate with you +about. Generally, when the contribution box of the missionary department +is passing around, you begin to look anxious, and fumble in your vest +pockets, as if you felt a mighty desire to put all your worldly wealth +into it--yet when it reaches your pew, you are sure to be absorbed in +your prayer-book, or gazing pensively out of the window at far-off +mountains, or buried in meditation, with your sinful head supported by +the back of the pew before you. And after the box is gone again, you +usually start suddenly and gaze after it with a yearning look, mingled +with an expression of bitter disappointment (fumbling your cash again +meantime), as if you felt you had missed the one grand opportunity for +which you had been longing all your life. Now, to do this when you have +money in your pockets is mean. But I have seen you do a meaner thing. I +refer to your conduct last Sunday, when the contribution box arrived at +our pew--and the angry blood rises to my cheek when I remember with what +gravity and sweet serenity of countenance you put in fifty cents and +took out two dollars and a half.... + + +THE UNRELIABLE + +EDS. ENTERPRISE--I received the following atrocious document the morning +I arrived here. It was from that abandoned profligate, the Unreliable, +and I think it speaks for itself: + + CARSON CITY, Thursday Morning. + + _To the Unreliable:_ + +SIR--Observing the driver of the Virginia stage hunting after you this +morning, in order to collect his fare, I infer you are in town. + +In the paper which you represent, I noticed an article which I took to +be an effusion from your muddled brain, stating that I had "cabbaged" a +number of valuable articles from you the night I took you out of the +streets of Washoe City and permitted you to occupy my bed. + +I take this opportunity to inform you that I will compensate you at the +rate of $20 _per head_ for every one of these _valuable_ articles that I +received from you, providing you will relieve me of their presence. This +offer can be either accepted or rejected on your part: but providing you +don't see proper to accept it, you had better procure enough lumber to +make a box 4x8, and have it made as early as possible. Judge Dixon will +arrange the preliminaries if you don't accede. An early reply is +expected by RELIABLE. + +Not satisfied with wounding my feelings by making the most extraordinary +reference to allusions in the above note, he even sent a challenge to +fight, in the same envelop with it, hoping to work upon my fears and +drive me from the country by intimidation. But I was not to be +frightened; I shall remain in the Territory. I guessed his object at +once, and determined to accept his challenge, choose weapons and things, +and scare him, instead of being scared myself. I wrote a stern reply to +him, and offered him mortal combat with boot-jacks at a hundred yards. +The effect was more agreeable than I could have hoped for. His hair +turned black in a single night, from excess of fear; then he went into a +fit of melancholy, and while it lasted he did nothing but sigh, and sob, +and snuffle, and slobber, and say "he wished he was in the quiet tomb;" +finally he said he would commit suicide--he would say farewell to the +cold, cold world, with its cares and troubles, and go to sleep with his +fathers, in perdition. Then rose up this young man, and threw his +demijohn out of the window, and took up a glass of pure water, and +drained it to the dregs. And then he fell to the floor in a swoon. Dr. +Tjader was called in, and as soon as he found that the cuss was +poisoned, he rushed down to the Magnolia Saloon and got the antidote, +and poured it down him. As he was drawing his last breath, he scented +the brandy and lingered yet a while on earth, to take a drink with the +boys. But for this he would have been no more--or possible a great deal +less--in a moment. So he survived; but he has been in a mighty +precarious condition ever since. I have been up to see how he was +getting along two or three times a day.... He is a very sick man; I was +up there a while ago, and I could see that his friends had begun to +entertain hopes that he would not get over it. As soon as I saw that, +all my enmity vanished; I even felt like doing the poor Unreliable a +kindness, and showing him, too, how my feelings toward him had changed. +So I went and bought him a beautiful coffin, and carried it up and set +it down on his bed and told him to climb in when his time was up. Well, +sir, you never saw a man so affected by a little act of kindness as he +was by that. He let off a sort of war-whoop, and went to kicking things +around like a crazy man; and he foamed at the mouth and went out of one +fit into another faster than I could take them down in my note-book.... + +I did not return to Virginia yesterday, on account of the wedding. The +parties were Hon. James H. Sturtevant, one of the first Pi-Utes of +Nevada, and Miss Emma Curry, daughter of the Hon. A. Curry, who also +claims that his is a Pi-Ute family of high antiquity.... I had heard it +reported that a marriage was threatened, so felt it my duty to go down +there and find out the facts of the case. They said I might stay, as it +was me.... I promised not to say anything about the wedding, and I +regard that promise as sacred--my word is as good as my bond.... Father +Bennett advanced and touched off the high contracting parties with the +hymeneal torch (married them, you know), and at the word of command from +Curry, the fiddle bows were set in motion, and the plain quadrilles +turned loose. Thereupon, some of the most responsible dancing ensued +that I ever saw in my life. The dance that Tam O'Shanter witnessed was +slow in comparison to it. They kept it up for six hours, and then +carried out the exhausted musicians on a shutter, and went down to +supper. I know they had a fine supper, and plenty of it, but I do not +know much else. They drank so much shampin around me that I got +confused, and lost the hang of things, as it were.... It was mighty +pleasant, jolly and sociable, and I wish to thunder I was married +myself. I took a large slice of bridal cake home with me to dream on, +and dreamt that I was still a single man, and likely to remain so, if I +live and nothing happens--which has given me a greater confidence in +dreams than I ever felt before. I cordially wish my newly-married couple +all kinds of happiness and prosperity, though. + + +YE SENTIMENTAL LAW STUDENT + +EDS. ENTERPRISE--I found the following letter, or Valentine, or whatever +it is, lying on the summit, where it had been dropped unintentionally, I +think. It was written on a sheet of legal cap, and each line was duly +commenced within the red mark which traversed the sheet from top to +bottom. Solon appeared to have had some trouble getting his effusion +started to suit him. He had begun it, "Know all men by these presents," +and scratched it out again; he had substituted, "Now at this day comes +the plaintiff, by his attorney," and scratched that out also; he had +tried other sentences of like character, and gone on obliterating them, +until, through much sorrow and tribulation, he achieved the dedication +which stands at the head of his letter, and to his entire satisfaction, +I do cheerfully hope. But what a villain a man must be to blend together +the beautiful language of love and the infernal phraseology of the law +in one and the same sentence! I know but one of God's creatures who +would be guilty of such depravity as this: I refer to the Unreliable. I +believe the Unreliable to be the very lawyer's-cub who sat upon the +solitary peak, all soaked in beer and sentiment, and concocted the +insipid literary hash I am talking about. The handwriting closely +resembles his semi-Chinese tarantula tracks. + +SUGAR LOAF PEAK, February 14, 1863. + +To the loveliness to whom these presents shall come, greeting:--This is +a lovely day, my own Mary; its unencumbered sunshine reminds me of your +happy face, and in the imagination the same doth now appear before me. +Such sights and scenes as this ever remind me, the party of the second +part, of you, my Mary, the peerless party of the first part. The view +from the lonely and segregated mountain peak, of this portion of what is +called and known as Creation, with all and singular the hereditaments +and appurtenances thereunto appertaining and belonging, is +inexpressively grand and inspiring; and I gaze, and gaze, while my soul +is filled with holy delight, and my heart expands to receive thy +spirit-presence, as aforesaid. Above me is the glory of the sun; around +him float the messenger clouds, ready alike to bless the earth with +gentle rain, or visit it with lightning, and thunder, and destruction; +far below the said sun and the messenger clouds aforesaid, lying prone +upon the earth in the verge of the distant horizon, like the burnished +shield of a giant, mine eyes behold a lake, which is described and set +forth in maps as the Sink of Carson; nearer, in the great plain, I see +the Desert, spread abroad like the mantle of a Colossus, glowing by +turns, with the warm light of the sun, hereinbefore mentioned, or darkly +shaded by the messenger clouds aforesaid; flowing at right angles with +said Desert, and adjacent thereto, I see the silver and sinuous thread +of the river, commonly called Carson, which winds its tortuous course +through the softly tinted valley, and disappears amid the gorges of the +bleak and snowy mountains--a simile of man!--leaving the pleasant valley +of Peace and Virtue to wander among the dark defiles of Sin, beyond the +jurisdiction of the kindly beaming sun aforesaid! And about said sun, +and the said clouds, and around the said mountains, and over the plain +and the river aforesaid, there floats a purple glory--a yellow mist--as +airy and beautiful as the bridal veil of a princess, about to be wedded +according to the rites and ceremonies pertaining to, and established by, +the laws or edicts of the kingdom or principality wherein she doth +reside, and whereof she hath been and doth continue to be, a lawful +sovereign or subject. Ah! my Mary, it is sublime! it is lovely! I have +declared and made known, and by these presents do declare and make known +unto you, that the view from Sugar Loaf Peak, as hereinbefore described +and set forth, is the loveliest picture with which the hand of the +Creator has adorned the earth, according to the best of my knowledge and +belief, so help me God. + +Given under my hand, and in the spirit-presence of the bright being +whose love has restored the light of hope to a soul once groping in the +darkness of despair, on the day and year first above written. + +(Signed) + + SOLON LYCURGUS. + +Law Student, and Notary Public in and for the said County of Storey, and +Territory of Nevada. + +To Miss Mary Links, Virginia (and may the laws have her in their holy +keeping). + + + + +SETTIN' BY THE FIRE + +BY FRANK L. STANTON + + + Never much on stirrin' roun' + (Sich warn't his desire), + Allers certain to be foun' + Settin' by the fire. + + When the frost wuz comin' down-- + Col' win' creepin' nigher, + Spent each day jest thataway-- + Settin' by the fire. + + When the dancin' shook the groun'-- + Raised the ol' roof higher, + Never swung the gals eroun'-- + Sot thar' by the fire. + + Same ol' corner night an' day-- + Never 'peared to tire; + Not a blessed word to say! + Jest sot by the fire. + + When he died, by slow degrees, + Folks said: "He's gone higher;" + But it's my opinion he's + Settin' by the fire. + + + + +THE WHISPERER + +BY IRONQUILL + + + He never tried to make a speech; + A speech was far beyond his reach. + He didn't even dare to try; + He did his work upon the sly. + He took the voter to the rear + And gently whispered in his ear. + + He never wrote; he could not write; + He never tried that style of fight. + No argument of his was seen + In daily press or magazine. + He only tried to get up near + And whisper in the voter's ear. + + It worked so well that he became + A person of abundant fame. + He couldn't write; he couldn't speak, + But still pursued his course unique. + He had a glorious career-- + He whispered in the voter's ear. + + + + +DER OAK UND DER VINE + +BY CHARLES FOLLEN ADAMS + + + I don'd vas preaching voman's righdts, + Or anyding like dot, + Und I likes to see all beoples + Shust gondented mit dheir lot; + Budt I vants to gondradict dot shap + Dot made dis leedle shoke: + "A voman vas der glinging vine, + Und man, der shturdy oak." + + Berhaps, somedimes, dot may be drue; + Budt, den dimes oudt off nine, + I find me oudt dot man himself + Vas peen der glinging vine; + Und ven hees friendts dhey all vas gone, + Und he vas shust "tead proke," + Dot's ven der voman shteps righdt in, + Und peen der shturdy oak. + + Shust go oup to der paseball groundts + Und see dhose "shturdy oaks" + All planted roundt ubon der seats-- + Shust hear dheir laughs und shokes! + Dhen see dhose vomens at der tubs, + Mit glothes oudt on der lines; + Vhich vas der shturdy oaks, mine friendts, + Und vhich der glinging vines? + + Vhen sickness in der householdt comes, + Und veeks und veeks he shtays, + Who vas id fighdts him mitoudt resdt, + Dhose veary nighdts und days? + Who beace und gomfort alvays prings, + Und cools dot fefered prow? + More like id vas der tender vine + Dot oak he glings to, now. + + "Man vants budt leedle here below," + Der boet von time said; + Dhere's leedle dot man he _don'd_ vant, + I dink id means, inshted; + Und ven der years keep rolling on, + Dheir cares und droubles pringing, + He vants to pe der shturdy oak, + Und, also, do der glinging. + + Maype, vhen oaks dhey gling some more, + Und don'd so shturdy peen, + Der glinging vines dhey haf some shance + To helb run Life's masheen. + In helt und sickness, shoy und pain, + In calm or shtormy veddher, + 'T was beddher dot dhose oaks und vines + Should alvays gling togeddher. + + + + +ARAMINTA AND THE AUTOMOBILE + +BY CHARLES BATTELL LOOMIS + + +Some persons spend their surplus on works of art; some spend it on +Italian gardens and pergolas; there are those who sink it in golf, and I +have heard of those who expended it on charity. + +None of these forms of getting away with money appeal to Araminta and +myself. As soon as it was ascertained that the automobile was +practicable and would not cost a king's ransom, I determined to devote +my savings to the purchase of one. + +Araminta and I lived in a suburban town; she because she loves Nature +and I because I love Araminta. We have been married for five years. + +I am a bank clerk in New York, and morning and night I go through the +monotony of railway travel, and for one who is forbidden to use his eyes +on the train and who does not play cards it _is_ monotony, for in the +morning my friends are either playing cards or else reading their +papers, and one does not like to urge the claims of conversation on one +who is deep in politics or the next play of his antagonist; so my +getting to business and coming back are in the nature of purgatory. I +therefore hailed the automobile as a Heaven-sent means of swift motion +with an agreeable companion, and with no danger of encountering either +newspapers or cards. I have seen neither reading nor card-playing going +on in any automobile. + +The community in which I live is not progressive, and when I said that I +expected to buy an automobile as soon as my ship came in I was frowned +upon by my neighbors. Several of them have horses, and all, or nearly +all, have feet. The horsemen were not more opposed to my proposed +ownership than the footmen--I should say pedestrians. They all thought +automobiles dangerous and a menace to public peace, but of course I +pooh-poohed their fears and, being a person of a good deal of stability +of purpose, I went on saving my money, and in course of time I bought an +automobile of the electric sort. + +Araminta is plucky, and I am perfectly fearless. When the automobile was +brought home and housed in the little barn that is on our property, the +man who had backed it in told me that he had orders to stay and show me +how it worked, but I laughed at him--good-naturedly yet firmly. I said, +"Young man, experience teaches more in half an hour than books or +precepts do in a year. A would-be newspaper man does not go to a school +of journalism if he is wise; he gets a position on a newspaper and +learns for himself, and through his mistakes. I know that one of these +levers is to steer by, that another lets loose the power, and that there +is a foot-brake. I also know that the machine is charged, and I need to +know no more. Good day." + +Thus did I speak to the young man, and he saw that I was a person of +force and discretion, and he withdrew to the train and I never saw him +again. + +Araminta had been to Passaic shopping, but she came back while I was out +in the barn looking at my new purchase, and she joined me there. I +looked at her lovingly, and she returned the look. Our joint ambition +was realized; we were the owners of an automobile, and we were going out +that afternoon. + +Why is it that cheap barns are so flimsily built? I know that our barn +is cheap because the rent for house and barn is less than what many a +clerk, city pent, pays for a cramped flat, but again I ask, why are they +flimsily built? I have no complaint to make. If my barn had been built +of good stout oak I might to-day be in a hospital. + +It happened this way. Araminta said, "Let me get in, and we will take +just a little ride to see how it goes," and I out of my love for her +said, "Wait just a few minutes, dearest, until I get the hang of the +thing. I want to see how much go she has and just how she works." + +Araminta has learned to obey my slightest word, knowing that love is at +the bottom of all my commands, and she stepped to one side while I +entered the gayly-painted vehicle and tried to move out of the barn. I +moved out. But I backed. Oh, blessed, cheaply built barn. My way was not +restricted to any appreciable extent. I shot gayly through the barn into +the hen yard, and the sound of the ripping clapboards frightened the +silly hens who were enjoying a dust-bath, and they fled in more +directions than there were fowls. + +I had not intended entering the hen yard, and I did not wish to stay +there, so I kept on out, the wire netting not being what an automobile +would call an obstruction. I never lose my head, and when I heard +Araminta screaming in the barn, I called out cheerily to her, "I'll be +back in a minute, dear, but I'm coming another way." + +And I did come another way. I came all sorts of ways. I really don't +know what got into the machine, but she now turned to the left and made +for the road, and then she ran along on her two left wheels for a +moment, and then seemed about to turn a somersault, but changed her +mind, and, still veering to the left, kept on up the road, passing my +house at a furious speed, and making for the open country. With as much +calmness as I could summon I steered her, but I think I steered her a +little too much, for she turned toward my house. + +I reached one end of the front piazza at the same time that Araminta +reached the other end of it. I had the right of way, and she deferred to +me just in time. I removed the vestibule storm door. It was late in +March, and I did not think we should have any more use for it that +season. And we didn't. + +I had ordered a strongly-built machine, and I was now glad of it, +because a light and weak affair that was merely meant to run along on a +level and unobstructed road would not have stood the assault on my +piazza. Why, my piazza did not stand it. It caved in, and made work for +an already overworked local carpenter who was behind-hand with his +orders. After I had passed through the vestibule, I applied the brake, +and it worked. The path is not a cinder one, as I think them untidy, so +I was not more than muddied. I was up in an instant, and looked at the +still enthusiastic machine with admiration. + +"Have you got the hang of it?" said Araminta. + +Now that's one thing I like about Araminta. She does not waste words +over non-essentials. The point was not that I had damaged the piazza. I +needed a new one, anyway. The main thing was that I was trying to get +the hang of the machine, and she recognized that fact instantly. + +I told her that I thought I had, and that if I had pushed the lever in +the right way at first, I should have come out of the barn in a more +conventional way. + +She again asked me to let her ride, and as I now felt that I could +better cope with the curves of the machine I allowed her to get in. + +"Don't lose your head," said I. + +"I hope I shan't," said she dryly. + +"Well, if you have occasion to leave me, drop over the back. Never jump +ahead. That is a fundamental rule in runaways of all kinds." + +Then we started, and I ran the motor along for upward of half a mile +after I had reached the highway, which I did by a short cut through a +field at the side of our house. There is only a slight rail fence +surrounding it, and my machine made little of that. It really seemed to +delight in what some people would have called danger. + +"Araminta, are you glad that I saved up for this?" + +"I am mad with joy," said the dear thing, her face flushed with +excitement mixed with expectancy. Nor were her expectations to be +disappointed. We still had a good deal to do before we should have ended +our first ride. + +So far I had damaged property to a certain extent, but I had no one but +myself to reckon with, and I was providing work for people. I always +have claimed that he who makes work for two men where there was only +work for one before, is a public benefactor, and that day I was the +friend of carpenters and other mechanics. + +Along the highway we flew, our hearts beating high, but never in our +mouths, and at last we saw a team approaching us. By "a team" I mean a +horse and buggy. I was raised in Connecticut, where a team is anything +you choose to call one. + +The teamster saw us. Well, perhaps I should not call him a teamster +(although he was one logically): he was our doctor, and, as I say, he +saw us. + +Now I think it would have been friendly in him, seeing that I was more +or less of a novice at the art of automobiling, to have turned to the +left when he saw that I was inadvertently turning to the left, but the +practice of forty years added to a certain native obstinacy made him +turn to the right, and he met me at the same time that I met him. + +The horse was not hurt, for which I am truly glad, and the doctor joined +us, and continued with us for a season, but his buggy was demolished. + +Of course I am always prepared to pay for my pleasure, and though it was +not, strictly speaking, my pleasure to deprive my physician of his +turn-out, yet if he _had_ turned out it wouldn't have happened--and, as +I say, I was prepared to get him a new vehicle. But he was very +unreasonable; so much so that, as he was crowding us--for the seat was +not built for more than two, and he is stout--I at last told him that I +intended to turn around and carry him home, as we were out for pleasure, +and he was giving us pain. + +I will confess that the events of the last few minutes had rattled me +somewhat, and I did not feel like turning just then, as the road was +narrow. I knew that the road turned of its own accord a half-mile +farther on, and so I determined to wait. + +"I want to get out," said the doctor tartly, and just as he said so +Araminta stepped on the brake, accidentally. The doctor got out--in +front. With great presence of mind I reversed, and so we did not run +over him. But he was furious and sulphurous, and that is why I have +changed to homeopathy. He was the only allopathic doctor in Brantford. + +I suppose that if I had stopped and apologized, he would have made up +with me, and I would not have got angry with him, but I couldn't stop. +The machine was now going as she had done when I left the barn, and we +were backing into town. + +Through it all I did not lose my coolness. I said: "Araminta, look out +behind, which is ahead of us, and if you have occasion to jump now, do +it in front, which is behind," and Araminta understood me. + +She sat sideways, so that she could see what was going on, but that +might have been seen from any point of view, for we were the only things +going on--or backing. + +Pretty soon we passed the wreck of the buggy, and then we saw the horse +grazing on dead grass by the roadside, and at last we came on a few of +our townfolk who had seen us start, and were now come out to welcome us +home. But I did not go home just then. I should have done so if the +machine had minded me and turned in at our driveway, but it did not. + +Across the way from us there is a fine lawn leading up to a beautiful +greenhouse full of rare orchids and other plants. It is the pride of my +very good neighbor, Jacob Rawlinson. + +The machine, as if moved by _malice prepense_, turned just as we came to +the lawn, and began to back at railroad speed. + +I told Araminta that if she was tired of riding, now was the best time +to stop; that she ought not to overdo it, and that I was going to get +out myself as soon as I had seen her off. + +I saw her off. + +Then after one ineffectual jab at the brake, I left the machine +hurriedly, and as I sat down on the sposhy lawn I heard a tremendous but +not unmusical sound of falling glass---- + +I tell Araminta that it isn't the running of an automobile that is +expensive. It is the stopping of it. + + + + +THE HEIGHT OF THE RIDICULOUS + +BY OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES + + + I wrote some lines once on a time + In wondrous merry mood, + And thought, as usual, men would say + They were exceeding good. + + They were so queer, so very queer, + I laughed as I would die; + Albeit, in the general way, + A sober man am I. + + I called my servant, and he came; + How kind it was of him + To mind a slender man like me, + He of the mighty limb! + + "These to the printer," I exclaimed, + And, in my humorous way, + I added, (as a trifling jest,) + "There'll be the devil to pay." + + He took the paper, and I watched, + And saw him peep within; + At the first line he read, his face + Was all upon the grin. + + He read the next; the grin grew broad, + And shot from ear to ear; + He read the third; a chuckling noise + I now began to hear. + + The fourth; he broke into a roar; + The fifth; his waistband split; + The sixth; he burst five buttons off, + And tumbled in a fit. + + Ten days and nights, with sleepless eye, + I watched that wretched man, + And since, I never dare to write + As funny as I can. + + + + +WHEN LOVELY WOMAN + +BY PHOEBE CARY + + + When lovely woman wants a favor, + And finds, too late, that man won't bend, + What earthly circumstance can save her + From disappointment in the end? + + The only way to bring him over, + The last experiment to try, + Whether a husband or a lover, + If he have feeling is--to cry. + + + + +UNSATISFIED YEARNING + +BY R. K. MUNKITTRICK + + + Down in the silent hallway + Scampers the dog about, + And whines, and barks, and scratches, + In order to get out. + + Once in the glittering starlight, + He straightway doth begin + To set up a doleful howling + In order to get in. + + + + +THE INVISIBLE PRINCE[2] + +BY HENRY HARLAND + + +At a masked ball given by the Countess Wohenhoffen, in Vienna, during +carnival week, a year ago, a man draped in the embroidered silks of a +Chinese mandarin, his features entirely concealed by an enormous Chinese +head in cardboard, was standing in the Wintergarten, the big, +dimly-lighted conservatory, near the door of one of the gilt-and-white +reception-rooms, rather a stolid-seeming witness of the multi-coloured +romp within, when a voice behind him said, "How do you do, Mr. +Field?"--a woman's voice, an English voice. + +The mandarin turned round. + +From a black mask, a pair of blue-gray eyes looked into his broad, bland +Chinese face; and a black domino dropped him an extravagant little +curtsey. + +"How do you do?" he responded. "I'm afraid I'm not Mr. Field; but I'll +gladly pretend I am, if you'll stop and talk with me. I was dying for a +little human conversation." + +"Oh you're afraid you're not Mr. Field, are you?" the mask replied +derisively. "Then why did you turn when I called his name?" + +"You mustn't hope to disconcert me with questions like that," said he. +"I turned because I liked your voice." + +He might quite reasonably have liked her voice, a delicate, clear, soft +voice, somewhat high in register, with an accent, crisp, chiselled, +concise, that suggested wit as well as distinction. She was rather +tall, for a woman; one could divine her slender and graceful, under the +voluminous folds of her domino. + +She moved a little away from the door, deeper into the conservatory. The +mandarin kept beside her. There, amongst the palms, a _fontaine +lumineuse_ was playing, rhythmically changing colour. Now it was a +shower of rubies; now of emeralds or amethysts, of sapphires, topazes, +or opals. + +"How pretty," she said, "and how frightfully ingenious. I am wondering +whether this wouldn't be a good place to sit down. What do _you_ think?" +And she pointed with a fan to a rustic bench. + +So they sat down on the rustic bench, by the _fontaine lumineuse_. + +"In view of your fear that you're not Mr. Field, it's rather a +coincidence that at a masked ball in Vienna you should just happen to be +English, isn't it?" she asked. + +"Oh, everybody's more or less English, in these days, you know," said +he. + +"There's some truth in that," she admitted, with a laugh. "What a +diverting piece of artifice this Wintergarten is, to be sure. Fancy +arranging the electric lights to shine through a dome of purple glass, +and look like stars. They do look like stars, don't they? Slightly +overdressed, showy stars, indeed; stars in the German taste; but stars, +all the same. Then, by day, you know, the purple glass is removed, and +you get the sun--the real sun. Do you notice the delicious fragrance of +lilac? If one hadn't too exacting an imagination, one might almost +persuade oneself that one was in a proper open-air garden, on a night in +May--Yes, everybody is more or less English, in these days. That's +precisely the sort of thing I should have expected Victor Field to +say." + +"By-the-bye," questioned the mandarin, "if you don't mind increasing my +stores of knowledge, who _is_ this fellow Field?" + +"This fellow Field? Ah, who indeed?" said she. "That's just what I wish +you'd tell me." + +"I'll tell you with pleasure, after you've supplied me with the +necessary data," he promised cheerfully. + +"Well, by some accounts, he's a little literary man in London," she +remarked. + +"Oh, come! You never imagined that I was a little literary man in +London," protested he. + +"You might be worse," she retorted. "However, if the phrase offends you, +I'll say a rising young literary man, instead. He writes things, you +know." + +"Poor chap, does he? But then, that's a way they have, sizing up +literary persons?" His tone was interrogative. + +"Doubtless," she agreed. "Poems and stories and things. And book +reviews, I suspect. And even, perhaps, leading articles in the +newspapers." + +"_Toute la lyre enfin?_ What they call a penny-a-liner?" + +"I'm sure I don't know what he's paid. I should think he'd get rather +more than a penny. He's fairly successful. The things he does aren't +bad," she said. + +"I must look 'em up," said he. "But meantime, will you tell me how you +came to mistake me for him? Has he the Chinese type? Besides, what on +earth should a little London literary man be doing at the Countess +Wohenhoffen's?" + +"He was standing near the door, over there," she told him, sweetly, +"dying for a little human conversation, till I took pity on him. No, he +hasn't exactly the Chinese type, but he's wearing a Chinese costume, and +I should suppose he'd feel uncommonly hot in that exasperatingly placid +Chinese head. _I'm_ nearly suffocated, and I'm only wearing a _loup_. +For the rest, why _shouldn't_ he be here?" + +"If your _loup_ bothers you, pray take it off. Don't mind me," he urged +gallantly. + +"You're extremely good," she responded. "But if I should take off my +_loup_, you'd be sorry. Of course, manlike, you're hoping that I'm young +and pretty." + +"Well, and aren't you?" + +"I'm a perfect fright. I'm an old maid." + +"Thank you. Manlike, I confess I _was_ hoping you'd be young and pretty. +Now my hope has received the strongest confirmation. I'm sure you are," +he declared triumphantly. + +"Your argument, with a meretricious air of subtlety, is facile and +superficial. Don't pin your faith to it. Why _shouldn't_ Victor Field be +here?" she persisted. + +"The Countess only receives tremendous swells. It's the most exclusive +house in Europe." + +"Are you a tremendous swell?" she wondered. + +"Rather!" he asseverated. "Aren't you?" + +She laughed a little, and stroked her fan, a big fan, a big fan of +fluffy black feathers. + +"That's very jolly," said he. + +"What?" said she. + +"That thing in your lap." + +"My fan?" + +"I expect you'd call it a fan." + +"For goodness' sake, what would _you_ call it?" cried she. + +"I should call it a fan." + +She gave another little laugh. "You have a nice instinct for the _mot +juste_," she informed him. + +"Oh, no," he disclaimed, modestly. "But I can call a fan a fan, when I +think it won't shock the sensibilities of my hearer." + +"If the Countess only receives tremendous swells," said she, "you must +remember that Victor Field belongs to the Aristocracy of Talent." + +"Oh, _quant a ca_, so, from the Wohenhoffens' point of view, do the +barber and the horse-leech. In this house, the Aristocracy of Talent +dines with the butler." + +"Is the Countess such a snob?" she asked. + +"No; she's an Austrian. They draw the line so absurdly tight in +Austria." + +"Well, then, you leave me no alternative," she argued, "but to conclude +that Victor Field is a tremendous swell. Didn't you notice, I bobbed him +a curtsey?" + +"I took the curtsey as a tribute to my Oriental magnificence," he +confessed. "Field doesn't sound like an especially patrician name. I'd +give anything to discover who you are. Can't you be induced to tell me? +I'll bribe, entreat, threaten--I'll do anything you think might persuade +you." + +"I'll tell you at once, if you'll own up that you're Victor Field," said +she. + +"Oh, I'll own up that I'm Queen Elizabeth if you'll tell me who you are. +The end justifies the means." + +"Then you _are_ Victor Field?" she pursued him eagerly. + +"If you don't mind suborning perjury, why should I mind committing it?" +he reflected. "Yes. And now, who are you?" + +"No; I must have an unequivocal avowal," she stipulated. "Are you or are +you not Victor Field?" + +"Let us put it at this," he proposed, "that I'm a good serviceable +imitation; an excellent substitute when the genuine article is not +procurable." + +"Of course, your real name isn't anything like Victor Field," she +declared, pensively. + +"I never said it was. But I admire the way in which you give with one +hand and take back with the other." + +"Your real name--" she began. "Wait a moment--Yes, now I have it. Your +real name--It's rather long. You don't think it will bore you?" + +"Oh, if it's really my real name, I daresay I'm hardened to it," said +he. + +"Your real name is Louis Charles Ferdinand Stanislas John Joseph +Emmanuel Maria Anna." + +"Mercy upon me," he cried, "what a name! You ought to have broken it to +me in instalments. And it's all Christian name at that. Can't you spare +me just a little rag of a surname, for decency's sake?" he pleaded. + +"The surnames of royalties don't matter, Monseigneur," she said, with a +flourish. + +"Royalties? What? Dear me, here's rapid promotion! I am royal now! And a +moment ago I was a little penny-a-liner in London." + +"_L'un n'empeche pas l'autre._ Have you never heard the story of the +Invisible Prince?" she asked. + +"I adore irrelevancy," said he. "I seem to have read something about an +invisible prince, when I was young. A fairy tale, wasn't it?" + +"The irrelevancy is only apparent. The story I mean is a story of real +life. Have you ever heard of the Duke of Zeln?" + +"Zeln? Zeln?" he repeated, reflectively. "No, I don't think so." + +She clapped her hands. "Really, you do it admirably. If I weren't +perfectly sure of my facts, I believe I should be taken in. Zeln, as any +history would tell you, as any old atlas would show you, was a little +independent duchy in the center of Germany." + +"Poor dear thing! Like Jonah in the center of the whale," he murmured, +sympathetically. + +"Hush. Don't interrupt. Zeln was a little independent German duchy, and +the Duke of Zeln was its sovereign. After the war with France it was +absorbed by Prussia. But the ducal family still rank as royal highness. +Of course, you've heard of the Leczinskis?" + +"Lecz--what?" said he. + +"Leczinski," she repeated. + +"How do you spell it?" + +"L-e-c-z-i-n-s-k-i." + +"Good. Capital. You have a real gift for spelling," he exclaimed. + +"Will you be quiet," she said, severely, "and answer my question? Are +you familiar with the name?" + +"I should never venture to be familiar with a name I didn't know," he +asserted. + +"Ah, you don't know it? You have never heard of Stanislas Leczinska, who +was king of Poland? Of Marie Leczinska, who married Louis VI?" + +"Oh, to be sure. I remember. The lady whose portrait one sees at +Versailles." + +"Quite so. Very well," she continued, "the last representative of the +Leczinskis, in the elder line, was the Princess Anna Leczinska, who, in +1858, married the Duke of Zeln. She was the daughter of John Leczinski, +Duke of Grodnia and Governor of Galicia, and of the Archduchess +Henrietta d'Este, a cousin of the Emperor of Austria. She was also a +great heiress, and an extremely handsome woman. But the Duke of Zeln was +a bad lot, a viveur, a gambler, a spendthrift. His wife, like a fool, +made her entire fortune over to him, and he proceeded to play ducks and +drakes with it. By the time their son was born he'd got rid of the last +farthing. Their son wasn't born till '63, five years after their +marriage. Well, and then, what do you suppose the Duke did?" + +"Reformed, of course. The wicked husband always reforms when a child is +born, and there's no more money," he generalized. + +"You know perfectly well what he did," said she. "He petitioned the +German Diet to annul the marriage. You see, having exhausted the dowry +of the Princess Anna, it occurred to him that if she could only be got +out of the way, he might marry another heiress, and have the spending of +another fortune." + +"Clever dodge," he observed. "Did it come off?" + +"It came off, all too well. He based his petition on the ground that the +marriage had never been--I forget what the technical term is. Anyhow, he +pretended that the princess had never been his wife except in name, and +that the child couldn't possibly be his. The Emperor of Austria stood by +his connection, like the royal gentleman he is; used every scrap of +influence he possessed to help her. But the duke, who was a Protestant +(the princess was of course a Catholic), the duke persuaded all the +Protestant States in the Diet to vote in his favour. The Emperor of +Austria was powerless, the Pope was powerless. And the Diet annulled the +marriage." + +"Ah," said the mandarin. + +"Yes," she went on. "The marriage was annulled, and the child declared +illegitimate. Ernest Augustus, as the duke was somewhat inconsequently +named, married again, and had other children, the eldest of whom is the +present bearer of the title--the same Duke of Zeln one hears of, +quarreling with the croupiers at Monte Carlo. The Princess Anna, with +her baby, came to Austria. The Emperor gave her a pension, and lent her +one of his country houses to live in--Schloss Sanct--Andreas. Our +hostess, by-the-by, the Countess Wohenhoffen, was her intimate friend +and her _premiere dame d'honneur_." + +"Ah," said the mandarin. + +"But the poor princess had suffered more than she could bear. She died +when her child was four years old. The Countess Wohenhoffen took the +infant, by the Emperor's desire, and brought him up with her own son +Peter. He was called Prince Louis Leczinski. Of course, in all moral +right, he was the Hereditary Prince of Zeln. His legitimacy, for the +rest, and his mother's innocence, are perfectly well established, in +every sense but a legal sense, by the fact that he has all the physical +characteristics of the Zeln stock. He has the Zeln nose and the Zeln +chin, which are as distinctive as the Hapsburg lip." + +"I hope, for the poor young man's sake, though, that they're not so +unbecoming?" questioned the mandarin. + +"They're not exactly pretty," answered the mask. "The nose is a thought +too long, the chin is a trifle too short. However, I daresay the poor +young man is satisfied. As I was about to tell you, the Countess +Wohenhoffen brought him up, and the Emperor destined him for the Church. +He even went to Rome and entered the Austrian College. He'd have been on +the high road to a cardinalate by this time if he'd stuck to the +priesthood, for he had strong interest. But, lo and behold, when he was +about twenty, he chucked the whole thing up." + +"Ah? _Histoire de femme?_" + +"Very likely," she assented, "though I've never heard any one say so. At +all events, he left Rome, and started upon his travels. He had no money +of his own, but the Emperor made him an allowance. He started upon his +travels, and he went to India, and he went to America, and he went to +South Africa, and then, finally, in '87 or '88, he went--no one knows +where. He totally disappeared, vanished into space. He's not been heard +of since. Some people think he's dead. But the greater number suppose +that he tired of his false position in the world, and one fine day +determined to escape from it, by sinking his identity, changing his +name, and going in for a new life under new conditions. They call him +the Invisible Prince. His position _was_ rather an ambiguous one, wasn't +it? You see, he was neither one thing nor the other. He has no +_etat-civil_. In the eyes of the law he was a bastard, yet he knew +himself to be the legitimate son of the Duke of Zeln. He was a citizen +of no country, yet he was the rightful heir to a throne. He was the last +descendant of Stanislas Leczinski, yet it was without authority that he +bore his name. And then, of course, the rights and wrongs of the matter +were only known to a few. The majority of people simply remembered that +there had been a scandal. And (as a wag once said of him) wherever he +went, he left his mother's reputation behind him. No wonder he found the +situation irksome. Well, there is the story of the Invisible Prince." + +"And a very exciting, melodramatic little story, too. For my part, I +suspect your Prince met a boojum. I love to listen to stories. Won't you +tell me another? Do, please," he pressed her. + +"No, he didn't meet a boojum," she returned. "He went to England, and +set up for an author. The Invisible Prince and Victor Field are one and +the same person." + +"Oh, I say! Not really!" he exclaimed. + +"Yes, really." + +"What makes you think so?" he wondered. + +"I'm sure of it," said she. "To begin with, I must confide to you that +Victor Field is a man I've never met." + +"Never met--?" he gasped. "But, by the blithe way in which you were +laying his sins at my door, a little while ago, I supposed you were +sworn confederates." + +"What's the good of masked balls, if you can't talk to people you've +never met?" she submitted. "I've never met him, but I'm one of his +admirers. I like his little poems. And I'm the happy possessor of a +portrait of him. It's a print after a photograph. I cut it from an +illustrated paper." + +"I really almost wish I _was_ Victor Field," he sighed. "I should feel +such a glow of gratified vanity." + +"And the Countess Wohenhoffen," she added, "has at least twenty +portraits of the Invisible Prince--photographs, miniatures, life-size +paintings, taken from the time he was born, almost, to the time of his +disappearance. Victor Field and Louis Leczinski have countenances as +like each other as two halfpence." + +"An accidental resemblance, doubtless." + +"No, it isn't an accidental resemblance," she affirmed. + +"Oh, then you think it's intentional?" he quizzed. + +"Don't be absurd. I might have thought it accidental, except for one or +two odd little circumstances. _Primo_, Victor Field is a guest at the +Wohenhoffens' ball." + +"Oh, he _is_ a guest here?" + +"Yes, he is," she said. "You are wondering how I know. Nothing simpler. +The same _costumier_ who made my domino, supplied his Chinese dress. I +noticed it at his shop. It struck me as rather nice, and I asked whom it +was for. The _costumier_ said, for an Englishman at the Hotel de Bade. +Then he looked in his book, and told me the Englishman's name. It was +Victor Field. So, when I saw the same Chinese dress here to-night, I +knew it covered the person of one of my favorite authors. But I own, +like you, I was a good deal surprised. What on earth should a little +London literary man be doing at the Countess Wohenhoffen's? And then I +remembered the astonishing resemblance between Victor Field and Louis +Leczinski; and I remembered that to Louis Leczinski the Countess +Wohenhoffen had been a second mother; and I reflected that though he +chose to be as one dead and buried for the rest of the world, Louis +Leczinski might very probably keep up private relations with the +Countess. He might very probably come to her ball, incognito, and safely +masked. I observed also that the Countess's rooms were decorated +throughout with _white lilac_. But the white lilac is the emblematic +flower of the Leczinskis; green and white are their family colours. +Wasn't the choice of white lilac on this occasion perhaps designed as a +secret compliment to the Prince? I was taught in the schoolroom that two +and two make four." + +"Oh, one can see that you've enjoyed a liberal education," he apprised +her. "But where were you taught to jump to conclusions? You do it with a +grace, an assurance. I too have heard that two and two make four; but +first you must catch your two and two. Really, as if there couldn't be +more than one Chinese costume knocking about Vienna, during carnival +week! Dear, good, sweet lady, it's of all disguises the disguise they're +driving hardest, this particular season. And then to build up an +elaborate theory of identities upon the mere chance resemblance of a +pair of photographs! Photographs indeed! Photographs don't give the +complexion. Say that your Invisible Prince is dark, what's to prevent +your literary man from being fair or sandy? Or _vice versa_? And then, +how is a little German Polish princeling to write poems and things in +English? No, no, no; your reasoning hasn't a leg to stand on." + +"Oh, I don't mind its not having legs," she laughed, "so long as it +convinces me. As for writing poems and things in English, you yourself +said that everybody is more or less English, in these days. German +princes are especially so. They all learn English, as a second +mother-tongue. You see, like Circassian beauties, they are mostly bred +up for the marriage market; and nothing is a greater help towards a good +sound remunerative English marriage, than a knowledge of the language. +However, don't be frightened. I must take it for granted that Victor +Field would prefer not to let the world know who he is. I happen to have +discovered his secret. He may trust to my discretion." + +"You still persist in imagining that I'm Victor Field?" he murmured +sadly. + +"I should have to be extremely simple-minded," she announced, "to +imagine anything else. You wouldn't be a male human being if you had sat +here for half an hour patiently talking about another man." + +"Your argument," said he, "with a meretricious air of subtlety, is +facile and superficial. I thank you for teaching me that word. I'd sit +here till doomsday talking about my worst enemy, for the pleasure of +talking with you." + +"Perhaps we have been talking of your worst enemy. Whom do the moralists +pretend a man's worst enemy is wont to be?" she asked. + +"I wish you would tell me the name of the person the moralists would +consider _your_ worst enemy," he replied. + +"I'll tell you directly, as I said before, if you'll own up," she +offered. + +"Your price is prohibitive. I've nothing to own up to." + +"Well then--good night," she said. + +Lightly, swiftly, she fled from the conservatory, and was soon +irrecoverable in the crowd. + +The next morning Victor Field left Vienna for London; but before he left +he wrote a letter to Peter Wohenhoffen. In the course of it he said: +"There was an Englishwoman at your ball last night with the reasoning +powers of a detective in a novel. By divers processes of elimination and +induction, she had formed all sorts of theories about no end of things. +Among others, for instance, she was willing to bet her halidome that a +certain Prince Louis Leczinski, who seems to have gone on the spree some +years ago, and never to have come home again--she was willing to bet +anything you like that Leczinski and I--_moi qui vous parle_--were to +all intents and purposes the same. Who was she, please? Rather a tall +woman, in a black domino, with gray eyes, or grayish-blue, and a nice +voice." + +In the answer which he received from Peter Wohenhoffen towards the end +of the week, Peter said: "There were nineteen Englishwomen at my +mother's party, all of them rather tall, with nice voices, and gray or +blue-gray eyes. I don't know what colours their dominoes were. Here is a +list of them." + +The names that followed were names of people whom Victor Field almost +certainly would never meet. The people Victor knew in London were the +sort of people a little literary man might be expected to know. Most of +them were respectable; some of them even deemed themselves rather smart, +and patronized him right Britishly. But the nineteen names in Peter +Wohenhoffen's list ("Oh, me! Oh, my!" cried Victor) were names to make +you gasp. + +All the same, he went a good deal to Hyde Park during the season, and +watched the driving. + +"Which of all those haughty high-born beauties is she?" he wondered +futilely. + +And then the season passed, and then the year; and little by little, of +course, he ceased to think about her. + + * * * * * + +One afternoon last May, a man, habited in accordance with the fashion of +the period, stopped before a hairdresser's shop in Knightsbridge +somewhere, and, raising his hat, bowed to the three waxen ladies who +simpered from the window. + +"Oh! It's Mr. Field!" a voice behind him cried. "What are those cryptic +rites that you're performing? What on earth are you bowing into a +hairdresser's window for?"--a smooth, melodious voice, tinged by an +inflection that was half ironical, half bewildered. + +"I was saluting the type of English beauty," he answered, turning. +"Fortunately, there are divergencies from it," he added, as he met the +puzzled smile of his interlocutrice; a puzzled smile, indeed, but, like +the voice, by no means without its touch of irony. + +She gave a little laugh; and then, examining the models critically, +"Oh?" she questioned. "Would you call that the type? You place the type +high. Their features are quite faultless, and who ever saw such +complexions?" + +"It's the type, all the same," said he. "Just as the imitation +marionette is the type of English breeding." + +"The imitation marionette? I'm afraid I don't follow," she confessed. + +"The imitation marionettes. You've seen them at little theatres in +Italy. They're actors who imitate puppets. Men and women who try to +behave as if they weren't human, as if they were made of starch and +whalebone, instead of flesh and blood." + +"Ah, yes," she assented, with another little laugh. "That _would_ be +rather typical of our insular methods. But do you know what an engaging, +what a reviving spectacle you presented, as you stood there flourishing +your hat? What do you imagine people thought? And what would have +happened to you if I had just chanced to be a policeman instead of a +friend?" + +"Would you have clapped your handcuffs on me?" he inquired. "I suppose +my conduct did seem rather suspicious. I was in the deepest depths of +dejection. One must give some expression to one's sorrow." + +"Are you going towards Kensington?" she asked, preparing to move on. + +"Before I commit myself, I should like to be sure whether you are," he +replied. + +"You can easily discover with a little perseverance." + +He placed himself beside her, and together they walked towards +Kensington. + +She was rather taller than the usual woman, and slender. She was +exceedingly well-dressed; smartly, becomingly; a jaunty little hat of +strangely twisted straw, with an aigrette springing defiantly from it; a +jacket covered with mazes and labyrinths of embroidery; at her throat a +big knot of white lace, the ends of which fell winding in a creamy +cascade to her waist (do they call the thing a _jabot_?); and then.... +But what can a man trust himself to write of these esoteric matters? She +carried herself extremely well, too: with grace, with distinction, her +head held high, even thrown back a little, superciliously. She had an +immense quantity of very lovely hair. Red hair? Yellow hair? Red hair +with yellow lights burning in it? Yellow hair with red fires shimmering +through it? In a single loose, full billow it swept away from her +forehead, and then flowed into a half-a-thousand rippling, crinkling, +capricious undulations. And her skin had the sensitive colouring, the +fineness of texture, that are apt to accompany red hair when it's +yellow, yellow hair when it's red. Her face, with its pensive, +quizzical eyes, its tip-tilted nose, its rather large mouth, and the +little mocking quirks and curves the lips took, with an alert, arch, +witty face; a delicate high-bred face; and withal a somewhat sensuous, +emotional face; the face of a woman with a vast deal of humour in her +soul; a vast deal of mischief; of a woman who would love to tease you, +and mystify you, and lead you on, and put you off; and yet who, in her +own way, at her own time, would know supremely well how to be kind. + +But it was mischief rather than kindness that glimmered in her eyes at +present, as she asked, "You were in the deepest depths of dejection? +Poor man! Why?" + +"I can't precisely determine," said he, "whether the sympathy that seems +to vibrate in your voice is genuine or counterfeit." + +"Perhaps it's half and half," she suggested. "But my curiosity is +unmixed. Tell me your troubles." + +"The catalogue is long. I've sixteen hundred million. The weather, for +example. The shameless beauty of this radiant spring day. It's enough to +stir all manner of wild pangs and longings in the heart of an +octogenarian. But, anyhow, when one's life is passed in a dungeon, one +can't perpetually be singing and dancing from mere exuberance of joy, +can one?" + +"Is your life passed in a dungeon?" she exclaimed. + +"Indeed, indeed, it is. Isn't yours?" + +"It had never occurred to me that it was." + +"You're lucky. Mine is passed in the dungeons of Castle Ennui," he said. + +"Oh, Castle Ennui. Ah, yes. You mean you're bored?" + +"At this particular moment I'm savouring the most exquisite excitement," +he professed. "But in general, when I am not working or sleeping, I'm +bored to extermination--incomparably bored. If only one could work and +sleep alternately, twenty-four hours a day, the year round! There's no +use trying to play in London. It's so hard to find a playmate. The +English people take their pleasures without salt." + +"The dungeons of Castle Ennui," she repeated meditatively. "Yes, we are +fellow-prisoners. I'm bored to extermination too. Still," she added, +"one is allowed out on parole, now and again. And sometimes one has +really quite delightful little experiences." + +"It would ill become me, in the present circumstances, to dispute that," +he answered, bowing. + +"But the castle waits to reclaim us afterwards, doesn't it?" she mused. +"That's rather a happy image, Castle Ennui." + +"I'm extremely glad you approve of it. Castle Ennui is the bastile of +modern life. It is built of prunes and prisms; it has its outer court of +convention, and its inner court of propriety; it is moated round by +respectability, and the shackles its inmates wear are forged of dull +little duties and arbitrary little rules. You can only escape from it at +the risk of breaking your social neck, or remaining a fugitive from +social justice to the end of your days. Yes, it _is_ a fairly decent +little image." + +"A bit out of something you're preparing for the press?" she hinted. + +"Oh, how unkind of you!" he cried. "It was absolutely extemporaneous." + +"One can never tell, with _vous autres gens-de-lettres_," she laughed. + +"It would be friendlier to say _nous autres gens d'esprit_," he +submitted. + +"Aren't we proving to what degree _nous autres gens d'esprit sont +betes_," she remarked, "by continuing to walk along this narrow +pavement, when we can get into Kensington Gardens by merely crossing the +street. Would it take you out of your way?" + +"I have no way. I was sauntering for pleasure, if you can believe me. I +wish I could hope that you have no way either. Then we could stop here, +and crack little jokes together the livelong afternoon," he said, as +they entered the Gardens. + +"Alas, my way leads straight back to the Castle. I've promised to call +on an old woman in Campden Hill," said she. + +"Disappoint her. It's good for old women to be disappointed. It whips up +their circulation." + +"I shouldn't much regret disappointing the old woman," she admitted, +"and I should rather like an hour or two of stolen freedom. I don't mind +owning that I've generally found you, as men go, a moderately +interesting man to talk with. But the deuce of it is--You permit the +expression?" + +"I'm devoted to the expression." + +"The deuce of it is, I'm supposed to be driving," she explained. + +"Oh, that doesn't matter. So many suppositions in this world are +baseless," he reminded her. + +"But there's the prison van," she said. "It's one of the tiresome rules +in the female wing of Castle Ennui that you're always supposed, more or +less, to be driving. And though you may cheat the authorities by +slipping out of the prison van directly it's turned the corner, and +sending it on ahead, there it remains, a factor that can't be +eliminated. The prison van will relentlessly await my arrival in the old +woman's street." + +"That only adds to the sport. Let it wait. When a factor can't be +eliminated, it should be haughtily ignored. Besides, there are higher +considerations. If you leave me, what shall I do with the rest of this +weary day?" + +"You can go to your club." + +He threw up his hand. "Merciful lady! What sin have I committed? I never +go to my club, except when I've been wicked, as a penance. If you will +permit me to employ a metaphor--oh, but a tried and trusty +metaphor--when one ship on the sea meets another in distress, it stops +and comforts it, and forgets all about its previous engagements and the +prison van and everything. Shall we cross to the north, and see whether +the Serpentine is in its place? Or would you prefer to inspect the +eastern front of the Palace? Or may I offer you a penny chair?" + +"I think a penny chair would be the maddest of the three dissipations," +she decided. + +And they sat down in penny chairs. + +"It's rather jolly here, isn't it?" said he. "The trees, with their +black trunks, and their leaves, and things. Have you ever seen such +sumptuous foliage? And the greensward, and the shadows, and the +sunlight, and the atmosphere, and the mistiness--isn't it like +pearl-dust and gold-dust floating in the air? It's all got up to imitate +the background of a Watteau. We must do our best to be frivolous and +ribald, and supply a proper foreground. How big and fleecy and white the +clouds are. Do you think they're made of cotton-wood? And what do you +suppose they paint the sky with? There never was such a brilliant, +breath-taking blue. It's much too nice to be natural. And they've +sprinkled the whole place with scent, haven't they? You notice how fresh +and sweet it smells. If only one could get rid of the sparrows--the +cynical little beasts! hear how they're chortling--and the people, and +the nursemaids and children. I have never been able to understand why +they admit the public to the parks." + +"Go on," she encouraged him. "You're succeeding admirably in your effort +to be ribald." + +"But that last remark wasn't ribald in the least--it was desperately +sincere. I do think it's inconsiderate of them to admit the public to +the parks. They ought to exclude all the lower classes, the people, at +one fell swoop, and then to discriminate tremendously amongst the +others." + +"Mercy, what undemocratic sentiments!" she cried. "The People, the poor +dear People--what have they done?" + +"Everything. What haven't they done? One could forgive their being dirty +and stupid and noisy and rude; one could forgive their ugliness, the +ineffable banality of their faces, their goggle-eyes, their protruding +teeth, their ungainly motions; but the trait one can't forgive is their +venality. They're so mercenary. They're always thinking how much they +can get out of you--everlastingly touching their hats and expecting you +to put your hand in your pocket. Oh, no, believe me, there's no health +in the People. Ground down under the iron heel of despotism, reduced to +a condition of hopeless serfdom, I don't say that they might not develop +redeeming virtues. But free, but sovereign, as they are in these days, +they're everything that is squalid and sordid and offensive. Besides, +they read such abominably bad literature." + +"In that particular they're curiously like the aristocracy, aren't +they?" said she. "By-the-bye, when are you going to publish another book +of poems?" + +"Apropos of bad literature?" + +"Not altogether bad. I rather like your poems." + +"So do I," said he. "It's useless to pretend that we haven't tastes in +common." + +They were both silent for a bit. She looked at him oddly, an inscrutable +little light flickering in her eyes. All at once she broke out with a +merry trill of laughter. + +"What are you laughing at?" he demanded. + +"I'm hugely amused," she answered. + +"I wasn't I aware that I'd said anything especially good." + +"You're building better than you know. But if I am amused, _you_ look +ripe for tears. What is the matter?" + +"Every heart knows its own bitterness," he answered. "Don't pay the +least attention to me. You mustn't let moodiness of mine cast a blight +upon your high spirits." + +"No fear," she assured him. "There are pleasures that nothing can rob of +their sweetness. Life is not all dust and ashes. There are bright +spots." + +"Yes, I've no doubt there are," he said. + +"And thrilling little adventures--no?" she questioned. + +"For the bold, I dare say." + +"None but the bold deserve them. Sometimes it's one thing, and sometimes +it's another." + +"That's very certain," he agreed. + +"Sometimes, for instance," she went on, "one meets a man one knows, and +speaks to him. And he answers with a glibness! And then, almost +directly, what do you suppose one discovers?" + +"What?" he asked. + +"One discovers that the wretch hasn't a ghost of a notion who one +is--that he's totally and absolutely forgotten one!" + +"Oh, I say! Really?" he exclaimed. + +"Yes, really. You can't deny that _that's_ an exhilarating little +adventure." + +"I should think it might be. One could enjoy the man's embarrassment," +he reflected. + +"Or his lack of embarrassment. Some men are of an assurance, of a _sang +froid_! They'll place themselves beside you, and walk with you, and talk +with you, and even propose that you should pass the livelong afternoon +cracking jokes with them in a garden, and never breathe a hint of their +perplexity. They'll brazen it out." + +"That's distinctly heroic, Spartan, of them, don't you think?" he said. +"Intentionally, poor dears, they're very likely suffering agonies of +discomfiture." + +"We'll hope they are. Could they decently do less?" said she. + +"And fancy the mental struggles that must be going on in their brains," +he urged. "If I were a man in such a situation I'd throw myself upon the +woman's mercy. I'd say, 'Beautiful, sweet lady! I know I know you. Your +name, your entirely charming and appropriate name, is trembling on the +tip of my tongue. But, for some unaccountable reason, my brute of a +memory chooses to play the fool. If you've a spark of Christian kindness +in your soul, you'll come to my rescue with a little clue." + +"If the woman had a Christian sense of the ridiculous in her soul, I +fear you'd throw yourself on her mercy in vain," she warned. + +"What _is_ the good of tantalizing people?" + +"Besides," she continued, "the woman might reasonably feel slightly +humiliated to find herself forgotten in that bare-faced manner." + +"The humiliation would be surely all the man's. Have you heard from the +Wohenhoffens lately?" + +"The--what? The--who?" She raised her eyebrows. + +"The Wohenhoffens," he repeated. + +"What are the Wohenhoffens? Are they persons? Are they things?" + +"Oh, nothing. My inquiry was merely dictated by a thirst for knowledge. +It occurred to me that you might have won a black domino at the masked +ball they gave, the Wohenhoffens. Are you sure you didn't?" + +"I've a great mind to punish your forgetfulness by pretending that I +did," she teased. + +"She was rather tall, like you, and she had gray eyes, and a nice voice, +and a laugh that was sweeter than the singing of nightingales. She was +monstrously clever, too, with a flow of language that would have made +her a leader in any sphere. She was also a perfect fiend. I have always +been anxious to meet her again, in order that I might ask her to marry +me. I'm strongly disposed to believe that she was you. Was she?" he +pleaded. + +"If I say yes, will you at once proceed to ask me to marry you?" she +asked. + +"Try it and see." + +"_Ce n'est pas la peine._ It occasionally happens that a woman's already +got a husband." + +"She said she was an old maid." + +"Do you dare to insinuate that I look like an old maid?" she cried. + +"Yes." + +"Upon my word!" + +"Would you wish me to insinuate that you look like anything so insipid +as a young girl? _Were_ you the woman of the black domino?" he +persisted. + +"I should need further information, before being able to make up my +mind. Are the--what's their name?--Wohenheimer?--are the Wohenheimers +people one can safely confess to knowing? Oh, you're a man, and don't +count. But a woman? It sounds a trifle Jewish, Wohenheimer. But of +course there are Jews and Jews." + +"You're playing with me like the cat in the adage," he sighed. "It's +too cruel. No one is responsible for his memory." + +"And to think that this man took me down to dinner not two months ago!" +she murmured in her veil. + +"You're as hard as nails. In whose house? Or--stay. Prompt me a little. +Tell me the first syllable of your name. Then the rest will come with a +rush." + +"My name is Matilda Muggins." + +"I've a great mind to punish your untruthfulness by pretending to +believe you," said he. "Have you really got a husband?" + +"Why do you doubt it?" said she. + +"I don't doubt it. Have you?" + +"I don't know what to answer." + +"Don't you know whether you've got a husband?" he protested. + +"I don't know what I'd better let you believe. Yes, on the whole, I +think you may as well assume that I've got a husband," she concluded. + +"And a lover, too?" he asked. + +"Really! I like your impertinence!" she bridled. + +"I only asked to show a polite interest. I knew the answer would be an +indignant negative. You're an Englishwoman, and you're _nice_. Oh, one +can see with half an eye that you're _nice_. But that a nice +Englishwoman should have a lover is as inconceivable as that she should +have side-whiskers. It's only the reg'lar bad-uns in England who have +lovers. There's nothing between the family pew and the divorce court. +One nice Englishwoman is a match for the whole Eleven Thousand Virgins +of Cologne." + +"To hear you talk, one might fancy you were not English yourself. For a +man of the name of Field, you're uncommonly foreign. You _look_ rather +foreign, too, you know, by-the-bye. You haven't at all an English cast +of countenance," she considered. + +"I've enjoyed the advantages of a foreign education. I was brought up +abroad," he explained. + +"Where your features unconsciously assimilated themselves to a foreign +type? Where you learned a hundred thousand strange little foreign +things, no doubt? And imbibed a hundred thousand unprincipled little +foreign notions? And all the ingenuous little foreign prejudices and +misconceptions concerning England?" she questioned. + +"Most of them," he assented. + +"_Perfide Albion?_ English hypocrisy?" she pursued. + +"Oh, yes, the English are consummate hypocrites. But there's only one +objection to their hypocrisy--it so rarely covers any wickedness. It's +such a disappointment to see a creature stalking toward you, laboriously +draped in sheep's clothing, and then to discover that it's only a sheep. +You, for instance, as I took the liberty of intimating a moment ago, in +spite of your perfectly respectable appearance, are a perfectly +respectable woman. If you weren't, wouldn't I be making furious love to +you, though!" + +"As I am, I can see no reason why you shouldn't make furious love to me, +if it would amuse you. There's no harm in firing your pistol at a person +who's bullet-proof," she laughed. + +"No; it's merely a wanton waste of powder and shot," said he. "However, +I shouldn't stick at that. The deuce of it is--You permit the +expression?" + +"I'm devoted to the expression." + +"The deuce of it is, you profess to be married." + +"Do you mean to say that you, with your unprincipled foreign notions, +would be restrained by any such consideration as that?" she wondered. + +"I shouldn't be for an instant--if I weren't in love with you." + +"_Comment donc? Deja?_" she cried with a laugh. + +"Oh, _deja_! Why not? Consider the weather--consider the scene. Is the +air soft, is it fragrant? Look at the sky--good heavens!--and the +clouds, and the shadows on the grass, and the sunshine between the +trees. The world is made of light to-day, of light and color, and +perfume and music. _Tutt 'intorno canta amor, amor, amor!_ What would +you have? One recognises one's affinity. One doesn't need a lifetime. +You began the business at the Wohenhoffens' ball. To-day you've merely +put on the finishing touches." + +"Oh, then I _am_ the woman you met at the masked ball?" she cried. + +"Look me in the eye, and tell me you're not," he defied her. + +"I haven't the faintest interest in telling you I'm not. On the +contrary, it rather pleases me to let you imagine that I am." + +"She owed me a grudge, you know. I hoodwinked her like everything," he +confided. + +"Oh, did you? Then, as a sister woman, I should be glad to serve as her +instrument of vengeance. Do you happen to have such a thing as a watch +about you?" she inquired. + +"Yes," he said. + +"Will you be good enough to tell me what o'clock it is?" + +"What are your motives for asking?" + +"I'm expected at home at five." + +"Where do you live?" + +"What are the motives for asking?" + +"I want to call upon you." + +"You might wait till you're invited." + +"Well, invite me--quick!" + +"Never." + +"Never?" + +"Never, never, never," she asseverated. "A man who's forgotten me as you +have!" + +"But if I've only met you once at a masked ball--" + +"Can't you be brought to realise that every time you mistake me for that +woman of the masked ball you turn the dagger in the wound?" she +demanded. + +"But if you won't invite me to call upon you, how and when am I to see +you again?" + +"I haven't an idea," she answered, cheerfully. "I must go now. Good-by." +She rose. + +"One moment," he interposed. "Before you go will you allow me to look at +the palm of your left hand?" + +"What for?" + +"I can tell fortunes. I'm extremely good at it," he boasted. "I'll tell +you yours." + +"Oh, very well," she assented, sitting down again: and guilelessly she +pulled off her glove. + +He took her hand, a beautifully slender, nervous hand, warm and soft, +with rosy, tapering fingers. + +"Oho! you _are_ an old maid after all," he cried. "There's no wedding +ring." + +"You villain!" she gasped, snatching the hand away. + +"I promised to tell your fortune. Haven't I told it correctly?" + +"You needn't rub it in, though. Eccentric old maids don't like to be +reminded of their condition." + +"Will you marry _me_?" + +"Why do you ask?" + +"Partly for curiosity. Partly because it's the only way I can think of, +to make sure of seeing you again. And then, I like your hair. Will you?" + +"I can't," she said. + +"Why not?" + +"The stars forbid. And I'm ambitious. In my horoscope it is written that +I shall either never marry at all, or--marry royalty." + +"Oh, bother ambition! Cheat your horoscope. Marry me. Will you?" + +"If you care to follow me," she said, rising again, "you can come and +help me to commit a little theft." + +He followed her to an obscure and sheltered corner of a flowery path, +where she stopped before a bush of white lilac. + +"There are no keepers in sight, are there? she questioned. + +"I don't see any," he said. + +"Then allow me to make you a receiver of stolen goods," said she, +breaking off a spray, and handing it to him. + +"Thank you. But I'd rather have an answer to my question." + +"Isn't that an answer?" + +"Is it?" + +"White lilac--to the Invisible Prince?" + +"The Invisible Prince--Then you _are the black_ domino!" he exclaimed. + +"Oh, I suppose so," she consented. + +"And you _will_ marry me?" + +"I'll tell the aunt I live with to ask you to dinner." + +"But will you marry me?" + +"I thought you wished me to cheat my horoscope?" + +"How could you find a better means of doing so?" + +"What! if I should marry Louis Leczinski--?" + +"Oh, to be sure. You will have it that I was Louis Leczinski. But, on +that subject, I must warn you seriously--" + +"One instant," she interrupted. "People must look other people straight +in the face when they're giving serious warnings. Look straight into my +eyes, and continue your serious warning." + +"I must really warn you seriously," said he, biting his lip, "that if +you persist in that preposterous delusion about my being Louis +Leczinski, you'll be most awfully sold. I have nothing on earth to do +with Louis Leczinski. Your ingenious little theories, as I tried to +convince you at the time, were absolute romance." + +Her eyebrows raised a little, she kept her eyes fixed steadily on +his--oh, in the drollest fashion, with a gaze that seemed to say "How +admirably you do it! I wonder whether you imagine I believe you. Oh, you +fibber! Aren't you ashamed to tell me such abominable fibs--?" + +They stood still, eyeing each other thus, for something like twenty +seconds, and then they both laughed and walked on. + +FOOTNOTES: + +[2] From _Comedies and Errors_. Reprinted by permission of the John Lane +Company. + + + + +WHY WAIT FOR DEATH AND TIME? + +BY BERT LESTON TAYLOR + + + I hold it truth with him who weekly sings + Brave songs of hope,--the music of "The Sphere,"-- + That deathless tomes the living present brings: + Great literature is with us year on year. + Books of the mighty dead, whom men revere, + Remind me I can make _my_ books sublime. + But, prithee, bay my brow while I am here: + Why do we ever wait for Death and Time? + + Shakespeare, great spirit, beat his mighty wings, + As I beat mine, for the occasion near. + He knew, as I, the worth of present things: + Great literature is with us year on year. + Methinks I meet across the gulf his clear + And tranquil eye; his calm reflections chime + With mine: "Why do we at the present fleer? + Why do we ever wait for Death and Time?" + + The reading world with acclamation rings + For my last book. It led the list at Weir, + Altoona, Rahway, Painted Post, Hot Springs: + Great literature is with us year on year. + "The Bookman" gives me a vociferous cheer. + Howells approves. I can no higher climb. + Bring, then, the laurel: crown my bright career-- + Why do we ever wait for Death and Time? + + Critics, who pastward, ever pastward peer, + Great literature is with us year on year. + Trumpet my fame while I am in my prime: + Why do we ever wait for Death and Time? + + + + +WINTER JOYS + +BY EUGENE FIELD + + + A man stood on the bathroom floor, + While raged the storm without, + One hand was on the water valve, + The other on the spout. + + He fiercely tried to turn the plug, + But all in vain he tried, + "I see it all, I am betrayed, + The water's froze," he cried. + + Down to the kitchen then he rushed, + And in the basement dove, + Long strived he for to turn the plugs, + But all in vain he strove. + + "The hydrant may be running yet," + He cried in hopeful tone, + Alas, the hydrant too, was froze, + As stiff as any stone. + + There came a burst, the water pipes + And plugs, oh, where were they? + Ask of the soulless plumber man + Who called around next day. + + + + +THE DEMON OF THE STUDY + +BY JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER + + + The Brownie sits in the Scotchman's room, + And eats his meat and drinks his ale, + And beats the maid with her unused broom, + And the lazy lout with his idle flail; + But he sweeps the floor and threshes the corn, + And hies him away ere the break of dawn. + + The shade of Denmark fled from the sun, + And the Cocklane ghost from the barn-loft cheer, + The fiend of Faust was a faithful one, + Agrippa's demon wrought in fear, + And the devil of Martin Luther sat + By the stout monk's side in social chat. + + The Old Man of the Sea, on the neck of him + Who seven times crossed the deep, + Twined closely each lean and withered limb, + Like the nightmare in one's sleep. + But he drank of the wine, and Sindbad cast + The evil weight from his back at last. + + But the demon that cometh day by day + To my quiet room and fireside nook, + Where the casement light falls dim and gray + On faded painting and ancient book, + Is a sorrier one than any whose names + Are chronicled well by good King James. + + No bearer of burdens like Caliban, + No runner of errands like Ariel, + He comes in the shape of a fat old man, + Without rap of knuckle or pull of bell; + And whence he comes, or whither he goes, + I know as I do of the wind which blows. + + A stout old man with a greasy hat + Slouched heavily down to his dark, red nose, + And two gray eyes enveloped in fat, + Looking through glasses with iron bows. + Read ye, and heed ye, and ye who can, + Guard well your doors from that old man! + + He comes with a careless "How d'ye do?" + And seats himself in my elbow-chair; + And my morning paper and pamphlet new + Fall forthwith under his special care, + And he wipes his glasses and clears his throat, + And, button by button, unfolds his coat. + + And then he reads from paper and book, + In a low and husky asthmatic tone, + With the stolid sameness of posture and look + Of one who reads to himself alone; + And hour after hour on my senses come + That husky wheeze and that dolorous hum. + + The price of stocks, the auction sales, + The poet's song and the lover's glee, + The horrible murders, the sea-board gales, + The marriage list, and the _jeu d'esprit_, + All reach my ear in the self-same tone,-- + I shudder at each, but the fiend reads on! + + Oh, sweet as the lapse of water at noon + O'er the mossy roots of some forest tree, + The sigh of the wind in the woods of June, + Or sound of flutes o'er a moonlight sea, + Or the low soft music, perchance, which seems + To float through the slumbering singer's dreams. + + So sweet, so dear is the silvery tone, + Of her in whose features I sometimes look, + As I sit at eve by her side alone, + And we read by turns, from the self-same book, + Some tale perhaps of the olden time, + Some lover's romance or quaint old rhyme. + + Then when the story is one of woe,-- + Some prisoner's plaint through his dungeon-bar, + Her blue eye glistens with tears, and low, + Her voice sinks down like a moan afar; + And I seem to hear that prisoner's wail, + And his face looks on me worn and pale. + + And when she reads some merrier song, + Her voice is glad as an April bird's, + And when the tale is of war and wrong, + A trumpet's summons is in her words, + And the rush of the hosts I seem to hear, + And see the tossing of plume and spear! + + Oh, pity me then, when, day by day, + The stout fiend darkens my parlor door; + And reads me perchance the self-same lay + Which melted in music, the night before, + From lips as the lips of Hylas sweet, + And moved like twin roses which zephyrs meet! + + I cross my floor with a nervous tread, + I whistle and laugh and sing and shout, + I flourish my cane above his head, + And stir up the fire to roast him out; + I topple the chairs, and drum on the pane, + And press my hands on my ears, in vain! + + I've studied Glanville and James the wise. + And wizard black-letter tomes which treat + Of demons of every name and size + Which a Christian man is presumed to meet, + But never a hint and never a line + Can I find of a reading fiend like mine. + + I've crossed the Psalter with Brady and Tate, + And laid the Primer above them all, + I've nailed a horseshoe over the grate, + And hung a wig to my parlor wall + Once worn by a learned Judge, they say, + At Salem court in the witchcraft day! + + "_Conjuro te, sceleratissime_, + _Abire ad tuum locum!_"--still + Like a visible nightmare he sits by me,-- + The exorcism has lost its skill; + And I hear again in my haunted room + The husky wheeze and the dolorous hum! + + Ah! commend me to Mary Magdalen + With her sevenfold plagues, to the wandering Jew, + To the terrors which haunted Orestes when + The furies his midnight curtains drew, + But charm him off, ye who charm him can, + That reading demon, that fat old man! + + + + +UNCLE BENTLEY AND THE ROOSTERS + +BY HAYDEN CARRUTH + + +The burden of Uncle Bentley has always rested heavily on our town. +Having not a shadow of business to attend to he has made other people's +business his own, and looked after it in season and out--especially out. +If there is a thing which nobody wants done, to this Uncle Bentley +applies his busy hand. + +One warm summer Sunday we were all at church. Our pastor had taken the +passage on turning the other cheek, or one akin to it, for his text, and +was preaching on peace and quiet and non-resistance. He soon had us in a +devout mood which must have been beautiful to see and encouraging to the +good man. + +Of course, Uncle Bentley was there--he always was, and forever in a +front pew, with his neck craned up looking backward to see if there was +anything that didn't need doing which he could do. He always tinkered +with the fires in the winter and fussed with the windows in the summer, +and did his worst with each. His strongest church point was ushering. +Not content to usher the stranger within our gates, he would usher all +of us, and always thrust us into pews with just the people we didn't +want to sit with. If you failed to follow him when he took you in tow, +he would stop and look back reproachfully, describing mighty indrawing +curves with his arm; and if you pretended not to see him, he would give +a low whistle to attract your attention, the arm working right along, +like a Holland windmill. + +On this particular warm summer Sunday Uncle Bentley was in place wearing +his long, full-skirted coat, a queer, dark, bottle-green, purplish blue. +He had ushered to his own exceeding joy, and got two men in one pew, and +given them a single hymn-book, who wouldn't on week-days speak to each +other. I ought to mention that we had long before made a verb of Uncle +Bentley. To unclebentley was to do the wrong thing. It was a regular +verb, unclebentley, unclebentleyed, unclebentleying. Those two rampant +enemies in the same pew had been unclebentleyed. + +The minister was floating along smoothly on the subject of peace when +Uncle Bentley was observed to throw up his head. He had heard a sound +outside. It was really nothing but one of Deacon Plummer's young +roosters crowing. The Deacon lived near, and vocal offerings from his +poultry were frequent and had ceased to interest any one except Uncle +Bentley. Then in the pauses between the preacher's periods we heard the +flapping of wings, with sudden stoppings and startings. Those +unregenerate fowls, unable to understand the good man's words, were +fighting. Even this didn't interest us--we were committed to peace. But +Uncle Bentley shot up like a jack-in-a-box and cantered down the aisle. +Of course, his notion was that the roosters were disturbing the +services, and that it was his duty to go out and stop them. We heard +vigorous "Shoos!" and "Take thats!" and "Consairn yous!" and then Uncle +Bentley came back looking very important, and as he stalked up the aisle +he glanced around and nodded his head, saying as clearly as words, +"There, where would you be without me?" Another defiant crow floated in +at the window. + +The next moment the rushing and beating of wings began again, and down +the aisle went Uncle Bentley, the long tails of that coat fairly +floating like a cloud behind him. There was further uproar outside, and +Uncle Bentley was back in his place, this time turning around and +whispering hoarsely, "I fixed 'em!" But such was not the case, for twice +more the very same thing was repeated. The last time Uncle Bentley came +back he wore a calm, snug expression, as who should say, "Now I _have_ +fixed 'em!" We should have liked it better if the roosters had fixed +Uncle Bentley. But nobody paid much attention except Deacon Plummer. The +thought occurred to him that perhaps Uncle Bentley had killed the fowls. +But he hadn't. + +However, there was no more disturbance without, and after a time the +sermon closed. There was some sort of a special collection to be taken +up. Of course, Uncle Bentley always insisted on taking up all the +collections. He hopped up on this occasion and seized the plate with +more than usual vigor. His struggles with the roosters had evidently +stimulated him. He soon made the rounds and approached the table in +front of the pulpit to deposit his harvest. As he did so we saw to our +horror that the long tails of that ridiculous coat were violently +agitated. A sickening suspicion came over us. The next moment one of +those belligerent young roosters thrust a head out of either of those +coat-tail pockets. One uttered a raucous crow, the other made a vicious +dab. Uncle Bentley dropped the plate with a scattering of coin, seized a +coat skirt in each hand, and drew it front. This dumped both fowls out +on the floor, where they went at it hammer and tongs. What happened +after this is a blur in most of our memories. All that is certain is +that there was an uproar in the congregation, especially the younger +portion; that the Deacon began making unsuccessful dives for his +poultry; that the organist struck up "Onward, Christian Soldiers," and +that the minister waved us away without a benediction amid loud shouts +of, "Shoo!" "I swanny!" and, "Drat the pesky critters!" from your Uncle +Bentley. + +Did it serve to subdue Uncle Bentley? Not in the least; he survived to +do worse things. + + + + +A SHINING MARK + +BY IRONQUILL + + + A man came here from Idaho, + With lots of mining stock. + He brought along as specimens + A lot of mining rock. + + The stock was worth a cent a pound + If stacked up in a pile. + The rock was worth a dollar and + A half per cubic mile. + + We planted him at eventide, + 'Mid shadows dim and dark; + We fixed him up an epitaph,-- + "Death loves a mining shark." + + + + +A BOOKWORM'S PLAINT[3] + +BY CLINTON SCOLLARD + + + To-day, when I had dined my fill + Upon a Caxton,--you know Will,-- + I crawled forth o'er the colophon + To bask awhile within the sun; + And having coiled my sated length, + I felt anon my whilom strength + Slip from me gradually, till deep + I dropped away in dreamful sleep, + Wherein I walked an endless maze, + And dined on Caxtons all my days. + + Then I woke suddenly. Alas! + What in my sleep had come to pass? + That priceless first edition row,-- + Squat quarto and tall folio,-- + Had, in my slumber, vanished quite; + Instead, on my astonished sight + The newest novels burst,--a gay + And most unpalatable array! + I, that have battened on the best, + Why should I thus be dispossessed + And with starvation, or the worst + Of diets, cruelly be curst? + +FOOTNOTES: + +[3] Lippincott's Magazine. + + + + +A POE-'EM OF PASSION + +BY CHARLES F. LUMMIS + + + It was many and many a year ago, + On an island near the sea, + That a maiden lived whom you mightn't know + By the name of Cannibalee; + And this maiden she lived with no other thought + Than a passionate fondness for me. + + I was a child, and she was a child-- + Tho' her tastes were adult Feejee-- + But she loved with a love that was more than love, + My yearning Cannibalee; + With a love that could take me roast or fried + Or raw, as the case might be. + + And that is the reason that long ago, + In that island near the sea, + I had to turn the tables and eat + My ardent Cannibalee-- + Not really because I was fond of her, + But to check her fondness for me. + + But the stars never rise but I think of the size + Of my hot-potted Cannibalee, + And the moon never stares but it brings me nightmares + Of my spare-rib Cannibalee; + + And all the night-tide she is restless inside, + Is my still indigestible dinner-belle bride, + In her pallid tomb, which is Me, + In her solemn sepulcher, Me. + + + + +THE REAL DIARY OF A REAL BOY + +BY HENRY A. SHUTE + + +Mar. 11, 186----Went to church in the morning. the fernace was all +write. Mister Lennard preeched about loving our ennymies, and told every +one if he had any angry feelings towards ennyone to go to him and shake +hands and see how much better you wood feel. i know how it is becaus +when me and Beany are mad we dont have eny fun and when we make up the +one who is to blam always wants to treet. why when Beany was mad with me +becaus i went home from Gil Steels surprise party with Lizzie Towle, Ed +Towles sister, he woodent speak to me for 2 days, and when we made up he +treated me to ice cream with 2 spoons and he let me dip twice to his +once. he took pretty big dips to make up. Beany is mad if enny of the +fellers go with Lizzie Towle. she likes Beany better than she does enny +of the fellers and Beany ought to be satisfied, but sometimes he acks +mad when i go down there to fite roosters with Ed. i gess he needent +worry much, no feller isnt going to leave of fiting roosters to go with +no girls. well i most forgot that i was going to say, but after church i +went up to Micky Gould who was going to fite me behind the school house, +and said Micky lets be friends and Micky said, huh old Skinny, i can +lick you in 2 minits and i said you aint man enuf and he called me a +nockneed puke, and i called him a wall eyed lummix and he give me a +paist in the eye and i gave him a good one in the mouth, and then we +rassled and Micky threw me and i turned him, and he got hold of my new +false bosom and i got hold of his hair, and the fellers all hollered hit +him Micky, paist him Skinny, and Mister Purington, Pewts father pulled +us apart and i had Mickys paper collar and necktie and some of his hair +and he had my false bosom and when i got home father made me go to bed +and stay there all the afternoon for fiting, but i guess he didnt like +my losing my false bosom. ennyway he asked me how many times i hit Micky +and which licked. he let me get up at supper time. next time i try to +love my ennymy i am a going to lick him first. + +Went to a sunday school concert in the evening. Keene and Cele sung now +i lay me down to sleep. they was a lot of people sung together and +Mister Gale beat time. Charlie Gerish played the violin and Miss Packard +sung. i was scart when Keene and Cele sung for i was afraid they would +break down, but they dident, and people said they sung like night harks. +i gess if they knowed how night harks sung they woodent say much. father +felt pretty big and to hear him talk you wood think he did the singing. +he give them ten cents apeace. i dident get none. you gest wait, old man +till i git my cornet. + +Went to a corcus last night. me and Beany were in the hall in the +afternoon helping Bob Carter sprinkle the floor and put on the sordust. +the floor was all shiny with wax and aufully slipery. so Bob got us to +put on some water to take off the shiny wax. well write in front of the +platform there is a low platform where they get up to put in their votes +and then step down and Beany said, dont put any water there only jest +dry sordust. so i dident. well that night we went erly to see the fun. +Gim Luverin got up and said there was one man which was the oldest voter +in town and he ought to vote the first, the name of this destinkuished +sitizen was John Quincy Ann Pollard. then old mister Pollard got up and +put in his vote and when he stepped down his heels flew up and he went +down whak on the back of his head and 2 men lifted him up and lugged him +to a seat, and then Ed Derborn, him that rings the town bell, stepped up +pretty lively and went flat and swort terrible, and me and Beany nearly +died we laffed so. well it kept on, people dident know what made them +fall, and Gim Odlin sat write down in his new umbrella and then they +sent me down stairs for a pail of wet sordust and when i was coming up i +heard an awful whang, and when i got up in the hall they were lugging +old mister Stickney off to die and they put water on his head and lugged +him home in a hack. me and Beany dont know what to do. if we dont tell, +Bob will lose his place and if we do we will get licked. + +Mar. 31. April fool day tomorrow. i am laying for Beany. old Francis +licked 5 fellers today becaus they sung rong when we was singing speek +kindly it is better for to rule by luv than feer. + +June 14. Rashe Belnap and Horris Cobbs go in swimming every morning at +six o'clock. i got a licking today that beat the one Beany got. last +summer me and Tomtit Tomson and Cawcaw Harding and Whack and Poz and +Boog Chadwick went in swimming in May and all thru the summer until +October. one day i went in 10 times. well i dident say anything about it +to father so as not to scare him. well today he dident go to Boston and +he said i am going to teech you to swim. when i was as old as you i cood +swim said he, and you must lern, i said i have been wanting to lern to +swim, for all the other boys can swim. so we went down to the gravil and +i peeled off my close and got ready, now said he, you jest wade in up to +your waste and squat down and duck your head under. i said the water +will get in my nose. he said no it wont jest squat rite down. i cood +see him laffin when he thought i wood snort and sputter. + +so i waded out a little ways and then div in and swam under water most +across, and when i came up i looked to see if father was surprised. gosh +you aught to have seen him. he had pulled off his coat and vest and +there he stood up to his waste in the water with his eyes jest bugging +rite out as big as hens eggs, and he was jest a going to dive for my +dead body. then i turned over on my back and waved my hand at him. he +dident say anything for a minute, only he drawed in a long breth. then +he began to look foolish, and then mad, and then he turned and started +to slosh back to the bank where he slipped and went in all over. When he +got to the bank he was pretty mad and yelled for me to come out. when i +came out he cut a stick and whaled me, and as soon as i got home he sent +me to bed for lying, but i gess he was mad becaus i about scart the life +out of him. but that nite i heard him telling mother about it and he +said that he div 3 times for me in about thirty feet of water. but he +braged about my swimming and said i cood swim like a striped frog. i +shall never forget how his boots went kerslosh kerslosh kerslosh when we +were skinning home thru croslots. i shall never forget how that old +stick hurt either. ennyhow he dident say ennything about not going in +again, so i gess i am all rite. + +June 15, 186----Johnny Heeld, a student, came to me and wanted me to carry +some tickets to a dance round to the girls in the town. there was about +1 hundred of them. he read the names over to me and i said i knew them +all. so after school me and Beany started out and walked all over town +and give out the tickets. i had a long string of names and every time i +wood leave one i wood mark out the name. i dident give the Head girls +any because they told father about some things that me and Beany and +Pewt did and the Parmer girls and the Cilley girls lived way up on the +plains and i dident want to walk up there, so when i went over to +Hemlock side to give one, i went over to the factory boarding house and +give some to them. they was auful glad to get them too and said they +would go to the dance. some people was not at home and so i gave their +tickets to the next house. it took me till 8 o'clock and i got 1 dollar +for it. i dont believe those girls that dident get their tickets will +care much about going ennyway. i gess the Head girls wont want to tell +on me another time. + +June 23. there is a dead rat in the wall in my room. it smells auful. + + + + +A MOTHERS' MEETING[4] + +BY MADELINE BRIDGES + + + "Where's the maternal parent of + This boy that stands in need of beating, + And of this babe that pines for love?" + "Oh, she is at a Mothers' Meeting!" + + "Fair daughter, why these young tears shed, + For passion's tale, too sweet and fleeting, + Lonely and mute, uncomforted?" + "My mother's at a Mothers' Meeting." + + "Man, whom misfortunes jeer and taunt, + Whom frauds forsake, and hope is cheating, + Fly to your mother's arms." "I can't-- + You see, she's at a Mothers' Meeting." + + Alas, what next will woman do? + Love, duty, children, home, maltreating, + The while she, smiling, rallies to + The roll-call of a Mothers' Meeting! + +FOOTNOTES: + +[4] Lippincott's Magazine. + + + + +MISTER RABBIT'S LOVE AFFAIR + +BY FRANK L. STANTON + + + One day w'en Mister Rabbit wuz a-settin' in de grass + He see Miss Mary comin', en he wouldn't let her pass, + Kaze he know she lookin' purty in de river lookin'glass, + O Mister Rabbit, in de mawnin'! + + But de Mockin'bird wuz singin' in de blossom en de dew, + En he know 'bout Mister Rabbit, en he watchin' er 'im, + too; + En Miss Mary heah his music, en she tell 'im "Howdy-do!" + O Mister Rabbit, in de mawnin'! + + Mister Rabbit 'low he beat 'im, en he say he'll l'arn ter sing, + En he tried it all de winter, en he kep' it up in spring; + But he wuzn't buil' fer singin', kaze he lack de voice en wing,-- + Good-by, Mister Rabbit, in de mawnin'! + + + + +OUR HIRED GIRL + +BY JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY + + + Our hired girl, she's 'Lizabuth Ann; + An' she can cook best things to eat! + She ist puts dough in our pie-pan, + An' pours in somepin' 'at's good and sweet, + An' nen she salts it all on top + With cinnamon; an' nen she'll stop + An' stoop an' slide it, ist as slow, + In th' old cook-stove, so's 'twon't slop + An' git all spilled; nen bakes it, so + It's custard pie, first thing you know! + An' nen she'll say: + "Clear out o' my way! + They's time fer work, an' time fer play!-- + Take yer dough, an' run, Child; run! + Er I cain't git no cookin' done!" + + When our hired girl 'tends like she's mad, + An' says folks got to walk the chalk + When _she's_ around, er wisht they had, + I play out on our porch an' talk + To th' Raggedy Man 'at mows our lawn; + An' he says "_Whew!_" an' nen leans on + His old crook-scythe, and blinks his eyes + An' sniffs all round an' says,--"I swawn! + Ef my old nose don't tell me lies, + It 'pears like I smell custard-pies!" + An' nen _he'll_ say,-- + "'Clear out o' my way! + They's time fer work an' time fer play! + Take yer dough, an' run, Child; run! + Er _she_ cain't git no cookin' done!'" + + Wunst our hired girl, one time when she + Got the supper, an' we all et, + An' it was night, an' Ma an' me + An' Pa went wher' the "Social" met,-- + An' nen when we come home, an' see + A light in the kitchen-door, an' we + Heerd a maccordeum, Pa says "Lan'- + O'-Gracious! who can _her_ beau be?" + An' I marched in, an' 'Lizabuth Ann + Wuz parchin' corn fer the Raggedy Man! + _Better_ say + "Clear out o' the way! + They's time fer work, an' time fer play! + Take the hint, an' run, Child; run! + Er we cain't git no _courtin'_ done!" + + + + +THE REASON + +BY IRONQUILL + + + Says John last night: + "William, by grab! I'm beat + To know why stolen kisses + Taste so sweet." + + Says William: "Sho! + That's easily explained-- + It's 'cause they're _syrup_- + titiously obtained." + + * * * * * + + O cruel thought! + O words of cruel might! + The coroner + He sat on John that night. + + + + +ONCL' ANTOINE ON 'CHANGE + +BY WALLACE BRUCE AMSBARY + +(_Antoine Boisvert, Raconteur._) + + + I've jus' com' from Chicago town, + A seein' all de sights + From stockyard to de ballet gairl, + All drass' in spangled tights. + But all de worstes' nonsens' + T'roo vich I got to wade, + I t'ink de t'ing dat gats de cake + Ees place called Board of Trade. + + I heard moch talk about dem chap + Dey call de Bull an' Bear, + Dat play aroun' with price of stock + An' get you unaware. + Who'll tell you w'at your wheat + Will bring in Fevuary nex', + In jus' so smood an' quiet vay + De cure read his tex'. + + An' dere dey vere out on de floor, + De mans who mak' de price + Of all de country produce, + A lookin' smood an' nice. + But dey had vink opon dere eye + Dat look you t'roo an' t'roo, + Like tricky bunko steerer ven + He's hunting after you. + + Dey got de ball to roll ver' swif' + An' firs' fall from de dock + Vas bottom off on July pork; + An' heem dat held de stock + Commence to hiss an' wriggle + Lak' a yellow rattlesnake; + De res' buzz jus' lak' bumblebee + Stirred op vit hayin' rake. + + Dis bottom off on July pork + Is strike me kin' of queer, + I's t'ink dat hogs is good for eat + Mos' all of de 'hole year. + Dose feller on Chicago town + Is mak' such fonny phrase + Dat--_entre nous_--I sometimes t'ink + Dat som' of dem ees craz'. + + Den dere ees somet'ing happen + Dat mak' 'em more excite', + W'en news ees com' overe de vires + Dat Boer an' Britain fight, + I nevere saw such meex-op yet, + In days since I be born, + Dey scowl an' call wan nodder names, + Dere faces show moch scorn. + + Wan man grow wild an' mos'ly craz', + De tears stream off his eyes, + Dere's nodder man dat's laf an' shout, + It's mak' me mos' surprise. + I guess it mak' som' diffe_rance_ + Vich side you're on de fence, + But in dis Bear an' Bull meex-op + I see not ver' moch sense. + + + + +HEZEKIAH BEDOTT'S OPINION + +BY FRANCES M. WHICHER + + +He was a wonderful hand to moralize, husband was, 'specially after he +begun to enjoy poor health. He made an observation once when he was in +one of his poor turns, that I never shall forget the longest day I live. +He says to me one winter evenin' as we was a settin' by the fire,--I was +a knittin' (I was always a wonderful great knitter) and he was a smokin' +(he was a master hand to smoke, though the doctor used to tell him he'd +be better off to let tobacker alone; when he was well he used to take +his pipe and smoke a spell after he'd got the chores done up, and when +he wa'n't well, used to smoke the biggest part of the time). Well, he +took his pipe out of his mouth and turned toward me, and I knowed +something was comin', for he had a pertikkeler way of lookin' round when +he was gwine to say anything oncommon. Well, he says to me, says he, +"Silly" (my name was Prissilly naterally, but he ginerally called me +"Silly," cause 'twas handier, you know). Well, he says to me, says he, +"Silly," and he looked pretty sollem, I tell you--he had a sollem +countenance naterally--and after he got to be deacon 'twas more so, but +since he'd lost his health he looked sollemer than ever, and certainly +you wouldent wonder at it if you knowed how much he underwent. He was +troubled with a wonderful pain in his chest, and amazin' weakness in the +spine of his back, besides the pleurissy in the side, and having the +ager a considerable part of the time, and bein' broke of his rest o' +nights 'cause he was so put to 't for breath when he laid down. Why it's +an onaccountable fact that when that man died he hadent seen a well day +in fifteen year, though when he was married and for five or six years +after I shouldent desire to see a ruggeder man that he was. But the time +I'm speakin' of he'd been out o' health nigh upon ten year, and O dear +sakes! how he had altered since the first time I ever see him! That was +to a quiltin' to Squire Smith's a spell afore Sally was married. I'd no +idee then that Sal Smith was a gwine to be married to Sam Pendergrass. +She'd ben keepin' company with Mose Hewlitt, for better'n a year, and +everybody said _that_ was a settled thing, and lo and behold! all of a +sudding she up and took Sam Pendergrass. Well, that was the first time I +ever see my husband, and if anybody'd a told me then that I should ever +marry him, I should a said--but lawful sakes! I most forgot, I was gwine +to tell you what he said to me that evenin', and when a body begins to +tell a thing I believe in finishin' on't some time or other. Some folks +have a way of talkin' round and round and round forevermore, and never +come to the pint. Now there's Miss Jinkins, she that was Poll Bingham +afore she was married, she is the tejusest individooal to tell a story +that ever I see in all my born days. But I was a gwine to tell you what +husband said. He says to me, says he, "Silly"; says I, "What?" I dident +say, "What, Hezekier?" for I dident like his name. The first time I ever +heard it I near killed myself a laffin. "Hezekier Bedott," says I, +"well, I would give up if I had sich a name," but then you know I had no +more idee o' marryin' the feller than you had this minnit o' marryin' +the governor. I s'pose you think it's curus we should a named our oldest +son Hezekiah. Well, we done it to please father and mother Bedott; it's +father Bedott's name, and he and mother Bedott both used to think that +names had ought to go down from gineration to gineration. But we always +called him Kier, you know. Speakin' o' Kier, he is a blessin', ain't he? +and I ain't the only one that thinks so, I guess. Now don't you never +tell nobody that I said so, but between you and me I rather guess that +if Kezier Winkle thinks she is a gwine to ketch Kier Bedott she is a +_leetle_ out of her reckonin'. But I was going to tell what husband +said. He says to me, says he, "Silly"; I says, says I, "What?" If I +dident say "what" when he said "Silly" he'd a kept on saying "Silly," +from time to eternity. He always did, because you know, he wanted me to +pay pertikkeler attention, and I ginerally did; no woman was ever more +attentive to her husband than what I was. Well, he says to me, says he, +"Silly." Says I, "What?" though I'd no idee what he was gwine to say, +dident know but what 'twas something about his sufferings, though he +wa'n't apt to complain, but he frequently used to remark that he +wouldent wish his worst enemy to suffer one minnit as he did all the +time; but that can't be called grumblin'--think it can? Why I've seen +him in sitivation when you'd a thought no mortal could a helped +grumblin'; but _he_ dident. He and me went once in the dead of winter in +a one-hoss shay out to Boonville to see a sister o' hisen. You know the +snow is amazin' deep in that section o' the kentry. Well, the hoss got +stuck in one o' them are flambergasted snow-banks, and there we sot, +onable to stir, and to cap all, while we was a sittin' there, husband +was took with a dretful crik in his back. Now _that_ was what I call a +_perdickerment_, don't you? Most men would a swore, but husband dident. +He only said, says he, "Consarn it." How did we get out, did you ask? +Why we might a benn sittin' there to this day fur as _I_ know, if there +hadent a happened to come along a mess o' men in a double team, and +they hysted us out. But I was gwine to tell you that observation of +hisen. Says he to me, says he, "Silly" (I could see by the light o' the +fire, there dident happen to be no candle burnin', if I don't +disremember, though my memory is sometimes ruther forgitful, but I know +we wa'n't apt to burn candles exceptin' when we had company)--I could +see by the light of the fire that his mind was oncommon solemnized. Says +he to me, says he. "Silly." I says to him, says I, "What?" He says to +me, "_We're all poor critters!_" + + + + +WHAT LACK WE YET? + +BY ROBERT J. BURDETTE + + + When Washington was president + He was a mortal icicle; + He never on a railroad went, + And never rode a bicycle. + + He read by no electric lamp, + Ne'er heard about the Yellowstone; + He never licked a postage stamp, + And never saw a telephone. + + His trousers ended at his knees; + By wire he could not snatch dispatch; + He filled his lamp with whale-oil grease, + And never had a match to scratch. + + But in these days it's come to pass, + All work is with such dashing done, + We've all these things, but then, alas-- + We seem to have no Washington! + + + + +JACOB + +BY PHOEBE CARY + + + He dwelt among "Apartments let," + About five stories high; + A man, I thought, that none would get, + And very few would try. + + A boulder, by a larger stone + Half hidden in the mud, + Fair as a man when only one + Is in the neighborhood. + + He lived unknown, and few could tell + When Jacob was not free; + But he has got a wife--and O! + The difference to me! + + + + +TO BARY JADE + +BY CHARLES FOLLEN ADAMS + + + The bood is beabig brighdly, love; + The sdars are shidig too; + While I ab gazig dreabily, + Add thigkig, love, of you. + You caddot, oh! you caddot kdow, + By darlig, how I biss you-- + (Oh, whadt a fearful cold I've got!-- + Ck-_tish_-u! Ck-ck-_tish_-u!) + + I'b sittig id the arbor, love, + Where you sat by by side, + Whed od that calb, autubdal dight + You said you'd be by bride. + Oh! for wud bobedt to caress + Add tederly to kiss you; + Budt do! we're beddy biles apart-- + (Ho-_rash_-o! Ck-ck-_tish_-u!) + + This charbig evedig brigs to bide + The tibe whed first we bet: + It seebs budt odly yesterday; + I thigk I see you yet. + Oh! tell be, ab I sdill your owd? + By hopes--oh, do dot dash theb! + (Codfoud by cold, 'tis gettig worse-- + _Ck-tish-u!_ Ch-ck-_thrash_-eb!) + + Good-by, by darlig Bary Jade! + The bid-dight hour is dear; + Add it is hardly wise, by love, + For be to ligger here. + The heavy dews are fallig fast: + A fod good-dight I wish you. + (Ho-_rash_-o!--there it is agaid-- + Ck-_thrash_-ub! Ck-ck-_tish_-u!) + + + + +HIS GRANDMOTHER'S WAY + +BY FRANK L. STANTON + + + Tell you, gran'mother's a queer one, shore-- + Makes your heart go pitty-pat! + If the wind just happens to open a door, + She'll say there's "a sign" in that! + An' if no one ain't in a rockin'-chair + An' it rocks itself, she'll say: "Oh, dear! + Oh, dear! Oh, my! + I'm afeared 'at somebody is goin' to die!" + An' she makes me cry-- + She makes me cry! + + Once wuz a owl 'at happened to light + On our tall chimney-top, + An' screamed an' screamed in the dead o' night, + An' nuthin' could make it stop! + An' gran'ma--she uncovered her head + An' almos' frightened me out of the bed; + "Oh, dear; Oh, my! + I'm certain 'at some one is goin' to die!" + An' she made me cry-- + She made me cry! + + Just let a cow lean over the gate + An' bellow, an' gran'ma--she + Will say her prayers, if it's soon or late, + An' shake her finger at me! + An' then, an' then you'll hear her say: + "It's a sign w'en the cattle act that way! + Oh, dear! Oh, my! + I'm certain 'at somebody's goin' to die!" + Oh, she makes me cry-- + She makes me cry! + + Skeeriest person you ever seen! + Always a-huntin' fer "signs"; + Says it's "spirits" 'at's good, or mean, + If the wind jest shakes the vines! + I always feel skeery w'en gran'ma's aroun'-- + An' think 'at I see things, an' jump at each soun': + "Oh, dear! Oh, my! + I'm certain 'at somebody's goin' to die!" + Oh, she makes me cry-- + She makes me cry! + + + + +_The Only True and Reliable Account of_ + +THE GREAT PRIZE FIGHT, + + _For $100,000, at + Seal Rock Point, on Sunday Last, + Between His Excellency Gov. Stanford and Hon. + F. F. Low, Governor Elect of California._ + +REPORTED BY SAMUEL L. CLEMENS + + +For the past month the sporting world has been in a state of feverish +excitement on account of the grand prize fight set for last Sunday +between the two most distinguished citizens of California, for a purse +of one hundred thousand dollars. The high social standing of the +competitors, their exalted position in the arena of politics, together +with the princely sum of money staked upon the issue of the combat, all +conspired to render the proposed prize fight a subject of extraordinary +importance, and to give it an eclat never before vouchsafed to such a +circumstance since the world began. Additional lustre was shed upon the +coming contest by the lofty character of the seconds or bottle-holders +chosen by the two champions, these being no other than Judge Field (on +the part of Gov. Low), Associate Justice of the Supreme Court of the +United States, and Hon. Wm. M. Stewart (commonly called "Bill Stewart," +or "Bullyragging Bill Stewart"), of the city of Virginia, the most +popular as well as the most distinguished lawyer in Nevada Territory, +member of the Constitutional Convention, and future U. S. Senator for +the state of Washoe, as I hope and believe--on the part of Gov. +Stanford. Principals and seconds together, it is fair to presume that +such an array of talent was never entered for a combat of this +description upon any previous occasion. + +Stewart and Field had their men in constant training at the Mission +during the six weeks preceding the contest, and such was the interest +taken in the matter that thousands visited that sacred locality daily to +pick up such morsels of information as they might, concerning the +physical and scientific improvement being made by the gubernatorial +acrobats. The anxiety manifested by the populace was intense. When it +was learned that Stanford had smashed a barrel of flour to atoms with a +single blow of his fist, the voice of the people was at his side. But +when the news came that Low had caved in the head of a tubular boiler +with one stroke of his powerful "mawley" (which term is in strict +accordance with the language of the ring) the tide of opinion changed +again. These changes were frequent, and they kept the minds of the +public in such a state of continual vibration that I fear the habit thus +acquired is confirmed, and that they will never more cease to oscillate. + +The fight was to take place on last Sunday morning at ten o'clock. By +nine every wheeled vehicle and every species of animal capable of +bearing burthens, were in active service, and the avenues leading to the +Seal Rock swarmed with them in mighty processions whose numbers no man +might hope to estimate. + +I determined to be upon the ground at an early hour. Now I dislike to be +exploded, as it were, out of my balmy slumbers, by a sudden, stormy +assault upon my door, and an imperative order to "Get up!"--wherefore I +requested one of the intelligent porters of the Lick House to call at +my palatial apartments, and murmur gently through the key-hole the magic +monosyllable "Hash!" That "fetched me." + +The urbane livery-stable keeper furnished me with a solemn, +short-bodied, long-legged animal--a sort of animated counting-house +stool, as it were--which he called a "Morgan" horse. He told me who the +brute was "sired" by, and was proceeding to tell me who he was "dammed" +by, but I gave him to understand that I was competent to damn the horse +myself, and should probably do it very effectually before I got to the +battle-ground. I mentioned to him, however, that I was not proposing to +attend a funeral; it was hardly necessary to furnish me an animal gifted +with such oppressive solemnity of bearing as distinguished his "Morgan." +He said in reply, that Morgan was only pensive when in the stable, but +that on the road I would find him one of the liveliest horses in the +world. + +He enunciated the truth. + +The brute "bucked" with me from the foot of Montgomery street to the +Occidental Hotel. The laughter which he provoked from the crowds of +citizens along the sidewalks he took for applause, and honestly made +every effort in his power to deserve it, regardless of consequences. + +He was very playful, but so suddenly were the creations of his fancy +conceived and executed, and so much ground did he take up with them, +that it was safest to behold them from a distance. In the self-same +moment of time, he shot his heels through the side of a street-car, and +then backed himself into Barry and Patten's and sat down on the +free-lunch table. + +Such was the length of this Morgan's legs. + +Between the Occidental and the Lick House, having become thoroughly +interested in his work, he planned and carried out a series of the most +extraordinary maneuvres ever suggested by the brain of any horse. He +arched his neck and went tripping daintily across the street sideways, +"rairing up" on his hind legs occasionally, in a very disagreeable way, +and looking into the second-story windows. He finally waltzed into the +large ice cream saloon opposite the Lick House, and-- + +But the memory of that perilous voyage hath caused me to digress from +the proper subject of this paper, which is the great prize fight between +Governors Low and Stanford. I will resume. + +After an infinitude of fearful adventures, the history of which would +fill many columns of this newspaper, I finally arrived at the Seal Rock +Point at a quarter to ten--two hours and a half out from San Francisco, +and not less gratified than surprised that I ever got there at all--and +anchored my noble Morgan to a boulder on the hillside. I had to swathe +his head in blankets also, because, while my back was turned for a +single moment, he developed another atrocious trait of his most +remarkable character. He tried to eat little Augustus Maltravers +Jackson, the "humble" but interesting offspring of Hon. J. Belvidere +Jackson, a wealthy barber from San Jose. It would have been a comfort to +me to leave the infant to his fate, but I did not feel able to pay for +him. + +When I reached the battle-ground, the great champions were already +stripped and prepared for the "mill." Both were in splendid condition, +and displayed a redundancy of muscle about the breast and arms which was +delightful to the eye of the sportive connoisseur. They were well +matched. Adepts said that Stanford's "heft" and tall stature were fairly +offset by Low's superior litheness and activity. From their heads to the +Union colors around their waists, their costumes were similar to that +of the Greek slave; from thence down they were clad in flesh-colored +tights and grenadier boots. + +The ring was formed upon the beautiful level sandy beach above the Cliff +House, and within twenty paces of the snowy surf of the broad Pacific +Ocean, which was spotted here and there with monstrous sea-lions +attracted shoreward by curiosity concerning the vast multitude of people +collected in the vicinity. + +At five minutes past ten, Brigadier-General Wright, the Referee, +notified the seconds to bring their men "up to the scratch." They did +so, amid the shouts of the populace, the noise whereof rose high above +the roar of the sea. + +First Round.--The pugilists advanced to the centre of the ring, shook +hands, retired to their respective corners, and at the call of the +time-keeper, came forward and went at it. Low dashed out handsomely with +his left and gave Stanford a paster in the eye, and at the same moment +his adversary mashed him in the ear. (These singular phrases are +entirely proper, Mr. Editor--I find them in the copy of "Bell's Life in +London" now lying before me.) After some beautiful sparring, both +parties went down--that is to say, they went down to the bottle-holders, +Stewart and Field, and took a drink. + +Second Round.--Stanford launched out a well intended plunger, but Low +parried it admirably and instantly busted him in the snoot. (Cries of +"Bully for the Marysville Infant!") After some lively fibbing (both of +them are used to it in political life,) the combatants went to grass. +(See "Bell's Life.") + +Third Round.--Both came up panting considerably. Low let go a terrific +side-winder, but Stanford stopped it handsomely and replied with an +earthquake on Low's bread-basket. (Enthusiastic shouts of "Sock it to +him, my Sacramento Pet!") More fibbing--both down. + +Fourth Round.--The men advanced and sparred warily for a few moments, +when Stanford exposed his cocoa-nut an instant, and Low struck out from +the shoulder and split him in the mug. (Cries of "Bully for the Fat +Boy!") + +Fifth Round.--Stanford came up looking wicked, and let drive a heavy +blow with his larboard flipper which caved in the side of his +adversary's head. (Exclamations of "Hi! at him again Old Rusty!") + +From this time until the end of the conflict, there was nothing regular +in the proceedings. The two champions got furiously angry, and used up +each other thus: + +No sooner did Low realize that the side of his head was crushed in like +a dent in a plug hat, than he "went after" Stanford in the most +desperate manner. With one blow of his fist he mashed his nose so far +into his face that a cavity was left in its place the size and shape of +an ordinary soup-bowl. It is scarcely necessary to mention that in +making room for so much nose, Gov. Stanford's eyes were crowded to such +a degree as to cause them to "bug out" like a grasshopper's. His face +was so altered that he scarcely looked like himself at all. + +I never saw such a murderous expression as Stanford's countenance now +assumed; you see it was so concentrated--it had such a small number of +features to spread around over. He let fly one of his battering rams and +caved in the other side of Low's head. Ah me, the latter was a ghastly +sight to contemplate after that--one of the boys said it looked "like a +beet which somebody had trod on it." + +Low was "grit" though. He dashed out with his right and stove Stanford's +chin clear back even with his ears. Oh, what a horrible sight he was, +gasping and reaching after his tobacco, which was away back among his +under-jaw teeth. + +Stanford was unsettled for a while, but he soon rallied, and watching +his chance, aimed a tremendous blow at his favorite mark, which crushed +in the rear of Gov. Low's head in such a way that the crown thereof +projected over his spinal column like a shed. + +He came up to the scratch like a man, though, and sent one of his +ponderous fists crashing through his opponent's ribs and in among his +vitals, and instantly afterward he hauled out poor Stanford's left lung +and smacked him in the face with it. + +If I ever saw an angry man in my life it was Leland Stanford. He fairly +raved. He jumped at his old speciality, Gov. Low's head; he tore it +loose from his body and knocked him down with it. (Sensation in the +crowd.) + +Staggered by his extraordinary exertion, Gov. Stanford reeled, and +before he could recover himself the headless but indomitable Low sprang +forward, pulled one of his legs out by the roots, and dealt him a +smashing paster over the eye with the end of it. The ever watchful Bill +Stewart sallied out to the assistance of his crippled principal with a +pair of crutches, and the battle went on again as fiercely as ever. + +At this stage of the game the battle ground was strewn with a +sufficiency of human remains to furnish material for the construction of +three or four men of ordinary size, and good sound brains enough to +stock a whole county like the one I came from in the noble old state of +Missouri. And so dyed were the combatants in their own gore that they +looked like shapeless, mutilated, red-shirted firemen. + +The moment a chance offered, Low grabbed Stanford by the hair of the +head, swung him thrice round and round in the air like a lasso, and +then slammed him on the ground with such mighty force that he quivered +all over, and squirmed painfully, like a worm; and behold, his body and +such of his limbs as he had left, shortly assumed a swollen aspect like +unto those of a rag doll-baby stuffed with saw-dust. + +He rallied again, however, and the two desperadoes clinched and never +let up until they had minced each other into such insignificant odds and +ends that neither was able to distinguish his own remnants from those of +his antagonist. It was awful. + +Bill Stewart and Judge Field issued from their corners and gazed upon +the sanguinary reminiscences in silence during several minutes. At the +end of that time, having failed to discover that either champion had got +the best of the fight, they threw up their sponges simultaneously, and +Gen. Wright proclaimed in a loud voice that the battle was "drawn." May +my ears never again be rent asunder with a burst of sound similar to +that which greeted this announcement, from the multitudes. Amen. + +By order of Gen. Wright, baskets were procured, and Bill Stewart and +Judge Field proceeded to gather up the fragments of their late +principals, while I gathered up my notes and went after my infernal +horse, who had slipped his blankets and was foraging among the +neighboring children. I-- + +P. S.--Messrs. Editors, I have been the victim of an infamous hoax. I +have been imposed upon by that ponderous miscreant, Mr. Frank Lawler, of +the Lick House. I left my room a moment ago, and the first man I met on +the stairs was Gov. Stanford, alive and well, and as free from +mutilation as you or I. I was speechless. Before I reached the street, I +actually met Gov. Low also, with his own head on his own shoulders, his +limbs intact, his inner mechanism in its proper place, and his cheeks +blooming with gorgeous robustitude. I was amazed. But a word of +explanation from him convinced me that I had been swindled by Mr. Lawler +with a detail account of a fight which had never occurred, and was never +likely to occur; that I had believed him so implicitly as to sit down +and write it out (as other reporters have done before me) in language +calculated to deceive the public into the conviction that I was present +at it myself, and to embellish it with a string of falsehoods intended +to render that deception as plausible as possible. I ruminated upon my +singular position for many minutes, arrived at no conclusion--that is to +say, no satisfactory conclusion, except that Lawler was an accomplished +knave and I was a consummate ass. I had suspected the first before, +though, and been acquainted with the latter fact for nearly a quarter of +a century. + +In conclusion, permit me to apologize in the most abject manner to the +present Governor of California, to Hon. Mr. Low, the Governor elect, to +Judge Field and to Hon. Wm. M. Stewart, for the great wrong which my +natural imbecility has impelled me to do them in penning and publishing +the foregoing sanguinary absurdity. If it were to do over again, I don't +really know that I would do it. It is not possible for me to say how I +ever managed to believe that refined and educated gentlemen like these +could stoop to engage in the loathsome and degrading pastime of +prize-fighting. It was just Lawler's work, you understand--the lubberly, +swelled up effigy of a nine-days drowned man! But I shall get even with +him for this. The only excuse he offers is that he got the story from +John B. Winters, and thought of course it must be just so--as if a +future Congressman for the state of Washoe could by any possibility tell +the truth! Do you know that if either of these miserable scoundrels +were to cross my path while I am in this mood I would scalp him in a +minute? That's me--that's my style. + + + + +A CONCORD LOVE-SONG + +BY JAMES JEFFREY ROCHE + + + Shall we meet again, love, + In the distant When, love, + When the Now is Then, love, + And the Present Past? + Shall the mystic Yonder, + On which I ponder, + I sadly wonder, + With thee be cast? + + Ah, the joyless fleeting + Of our primal meeting, + And the fateful greeting + Of the How and Why! + Ah, the Thingness flying + From the Hereness, sighing + For a love undying + That fain would die! + + Ah, the Ifness sadd'ning, + The Whichness madd'ning, + And the But ungladd'ning, + That lie behind! + When the signless token + Of love is broken + In the speech unspoken + Of mind to mind! + + But the mind perceiveth + When the spirit grieveth, + And the heart relieveth + Itself of woe; + And the doubt-mists lifted + From the eyes love-gifted + Are rent and rifted + In the warmer glow. + + In the inner Me, love, + As I turn to thee, love, + I seem to see, love, + No Ego there. + But the Meness dead, love, + The Theeness fled, love, + And born instead, love, + An Usness rare! + + + + +THE MEETING + +BY S. E. KISER + + + One day, in Paradise, + Two angels, beaming, strolled + Along the amber walk that lies + Beside the street of gold. + + At last they met and gazed + Into each other's eyes, + Then dropped their harps, amazed, + And stood in mute surprise. + + And other angels came, + And, as they lingered near, + Heard both at once exclaim: + "Say, how did you get here?" + + + + +"THERE'S A BOWER OF BEAN-VINES" + +BY PHOEBE CARY + + + There's a bower of bean-vines in Benjamin's yard, + And the cabbages grow round it, planted for greens; + In the time of my childhood 'twas terribly hard + To bend down the bean-poles, and pick off the beans. + + That bower and its products I never forget, + But oft, when my landlady presses me hard, + I think, are the cabbages growing there yet, + Are the bean-vines still bearing in Benjamin's yard? + + No, the bean-vines soon withered that once used to wave, + But some beans had been gathered, the last that hung on; + And a soup was distilled in a kettle, that gave + All the fragrance of summer when summer was gone. + + Thus memory draws from delight, ere it dies, + An essence that breathes of it awfully hard; + As thus good to my taste as 'twas then to my eyes, + Is that bower of bean-vines in Benjamin's yard. + + + + +THE TRIAL THAT JOB MISSED + +BY KENNETT HARRIS + + + Job had troubles, I admit; + Clearly was his patience shown, + Yet he never had to sit + Waiting at the telephone-- + Waiting, waiting to connect, + The receiver at his lobe. + That's a trial, I expect, + Would have been too much for Job! + + After minutes of delay, + While the cramps attacked his knees, + Then to hear Miss Central say + Innocently: "Number, please!" + When the same he'd shouted out + Twenty times--he'd rend his robe, + Tear his hair, I've little doubt; + 'Twould have been too much for Job. + + Job, with all the woes he bore, + Never got the "busy" buzz + When he tempted was of yore + In the ancient land of Uz. + Satan missed it when he sought + His one tender spot to probe; + If of "central" he had thought, + She'd have been too much for Job! + + + + +THE EVIDENCE IN THE CASE OF SMITH VS. JONES + +BY SAMUEL L. CLEMENS + + +I reported this trial simply for my own amusement, one idle day last +week, and without expecting to publish any portion of it--but I have +seen the facts in the case so distorted and misrepresented in the daily +papers that I feel it my duty to come forward and do what I can to set +the plaintiff and defendant right before the public. This can best be +done by submitting the plain, unembellished statements of the witnesses +as given under oath before his Honor Judge Sheperd, in the Police Court, +and leaving the people to form their own judgment of the matters +involved, unbiased by argument or suggestion of any kind from me. + +There is that nice sense of justice and that ability to discriminate +between right and wrong, among the masses, which will enable them, after +carefully reading the testimony I am about to set down here, to decide +without hesitation which is the innocent party and which the guilty in +the remarkable case of Smith vs. Jones, and I have every confidence that +before this paper shall have been out of the printing-press twenty-four +hours, the high court of The People, from whose decision there is no +appeal, will have swept from the innocent man all taint of blame or +suspicion, and cast upon the guilty one a deathless infamy. + +To such as are not used to visiting the Police Court, I will observe +that there is nothing inviting about the place, there being no rich +carpets, no mirrors, no pictures, no elegant sofa or arm-chairs to +lounge in, no free lunch--and, in fact, nothing to make a man who has +been there once desire to go again--except in cases where his bail is +heavier than his fine is likely to be, under which circumstances he +naturally has a tendency in that direction again, of course, in order to +recover the difference. + +There is a pulpit at the head of the hall, occupied by a handsome +gray-haired judge, with a faculty of appearing pleasant and impartial to +the disinterested spectator, and prejudiced and frosty to the last +degree to the prisoner at the bar. + +To the left of the pulpit is a long table for reporters; in front of the +pulpit the clerks are stationed, and in the centre of the hall a nest of +lawyers. On the left again are pine benches behind a railing, occupied +by seedy white men, negroes, Chinamen, Kanakas--in a word, by the seedy +and dejected of all nations--and in a corner is a box where more can be +had when they are wanted. + +On the right are more pine benches, for the use of prisoners, and their +friends and witnesses. + +An officer, in a gray uniform, and with a star upon his breast, guards +the door. + +A holy calm pervades the scene. + +The case of Smith vs. Jones being called, each of these parties +(stepping out from among the other seedy ones) gave the court a +particular and circumstantial account of how the whole thing occurred, +and then sat down. + +The two narratives differed from each other. + +In reality, I was half persuaded that these men were talking about two +separate and distinct affairs altogether, inasmuch as no single +circumstance mentioned by one was even remotely hinted at by the other. + +Mr. Alfred Sowerby was then called to the witness-stand, and testified +as follows: + +"I was in the saloon at the time, your Honor, and I see this man Smith +come up all of a sudden to Jones, who warn't saying a word, and split +him in the snoot--" + +LAWYER.--"Did what, sir?" + +WITNESS.--"Busted him in the snoot." + +LAWYER.--"What do you mean by such language as that? When you say that +the plaintiff suddenly approached the defendant, who was silent at the +time, and 'busted him in the snoot,' do you mean that the plaintiff +struck the defendant?" + +WITNESS.--"That's me--I'm swearing to that very circumstance--yes, your +Honor, that was just the way of it. Now, for instance, as if you was +Jones and I was Smith. Well, I comes up all of a sudden and says I to +your Honor, says I, 'D--n your old tripe--'" + +(Suppressed laughter in the lobbies.) + +THE COURT.--"Order in the court! Witness, you will confine yourself to a +plain statement of the facts in this case, and refrain from the +embellishments of metaphor and allegory as far as possible." + +WITNESS.--(Considerably subdued.)--"I beg your Honor's pardon--I didn't +mean to be so brash. Well, Smith comes up to Jones all of a sudden and +mashed him in the bugle--" + +LAWYER.--"Stop! Witness, this kind of language will not do. I will ask +you a plain question, and I require you to answer it simply, yes or no. +Did--the--plaintiff--strike--the defendant? Did he strike him?" + +WITNESS.--"You bet your sweet life he did. Gad! he gave him a paster in +the trumpet--" + +LAWYER.--"Take the witness! take the witness! take the witness! I have +no further use for him." + +The lawyer on the other side said he would endeavor to worry along +without more assistance from Mr. Sowerby, and the witness retired to a +neighboring bench. + +Mr. McWilliamson was next called, and deposed as follows: + +"I was a-standing as close to Mr. Smith as I am to this pulpit, +a-chaffing with one of the lager beer girls--Sophronia by name, being +from summers in Germany, so she says, but as to that, I--" + +LAWYER.--"Well, now, never mind the nativity of the lager beer girl, but +state, as concisely as possible, what you know of the assault and +battery." + +WITNESS.--"Certainly--certainly. Well, German or no German,--which I'll +take my oath I don't believe she is, being of a red-headed disposition, +with long, bony fingers, and no more hankering after Limberger cheese +than--" + +LAWYER.--"Stop that driveling nonsense and stick to the assault and +battery. Go on with your story." + +WITNESS.--"Well, sir, she--that is, Jones--he sidled up and drawed his +revolver and tried to shoot the top of Smith's head off, and Smith run, +and Sophronia she walloped herself down in the saw-dust and screamed +twice, just as loud as she could yell. I never see a poor creature in +such distress--and then she sung out: 'O, H--ll's fire! What are they up +to now? Ah, my poor dear mother, I shall never see you more!'--saying +which, she jerked another yell and fainted away as dead as a wax figger. +Thinks I to myself, I'll be danged if this ain't gettin' rather dusty, +and I'll--" + +THE COURT.--"We have no desire to know what you thought; we only wish to +know what you saw. Are you sure Mr. Jones endeavored to shoot the top of +Mr. Smith's head off?" + +WITNESS.--"Yes, your Honor." + +THE COURT.--"How many times did he shoot?" + +WITNESS.--"Well, sir, I couldn't say exactly as to the number--but I +should think--well, say seven or eight times--as many as that, anyway." + +THE COURT.--"Be careful now, and remember you are under oath. What kind +of a pistol was it?" + +WITNESS.--"It was a Durringer, your Honor." + +THE COURT.--"A derringer! You must not trifle here, sir. A derringer +only shoots once--how then could Jones have fired seven or eight times?" +(The witness is evidently as stunned by that last proposition as if a +brick had struck him.) + +WITNESS.--"Well, your Honor--he--that is, she--Jones, I mean--Soph--" + +THE COURT.--"Are you sure he fired more than one shot? Are you sure he +fired at all?" + +WITNESS.--"I--I well, perhaps he didn't--and--and your Honor may be +right. But you see, that girl, with her dratted yowling--altogether, it +might be that he did only shoot once." + +LAWYER.--"And about his attempting to shoot the top of Smith's head +off--didn't he aim at his body, or his legs? Come now." + +WITNESS.--(Entirely confused)--"Yes, sir--I think he did--I--I'm pretty +certain of it. Yes, sir, he must a fired at his legs." + +(Nothing was elicited on the cross-examination, except that the weapon +used by Mr. Jones was a bowie knife instead of a derringer, and that he +made a number of desperate attempts to scalp the plaintiff instead of +trying to shoot him. It also came out that Sophronia, of doubtful +nativity, did not faint, and was not present during the affray, she +having been discharged from her situation on the previous evening.) + +Washington Billings, sworn, said: "I see the row, and it warn't in no +saloon--it was in the street. Both of 'em was drunk, and one was a +comin' up the street, and t'other was a goin' down. Both of 'em was +close to the houses when they fust see each other, and both of 'em made +their calculations to miss each other, but the second time they tacked +across the pavement--driftin'-like, diagonal--they come together, down +by curb--al-mighty soggy, they did--which staggered 'em a moment, and +then, over they went, into the gutter. Smith was up fust, and he made a +dive for a cobble and fell on Jones; Jones dug out and made a dive for a +cobble, and slipped his hold and jammed his head into Smith's stomach. +They each done that over again, twice more, just the same way. After +that, neither of 'em could get up any more, and so they just laid there +in the slush and clawed mud and cussed each other." + +(On the cross-examination, the witness could not say whether the parties +continued the fight afterward in the saloon or not--he only knew they +began it in the gutter, and to the best of his knowledge and belief they +were too drunk to get into a saloon, and too drunk to stay in it after +they got there if there were any orifice about it that they could fall +out again. As to weapons, he saw none used except the cobble-stones, and +to the best of his knowledge and belief they missed fire every time +while he was present.) + +Jeremiah Driscoll came forward, was sworn, and testified as follows:--"I +saw the fight, your Honor, and it wasn't in a saloon, nor in the street, +nor in a hotel, nor in--" + +THE COURT.--"Was it in the city and county of San Francisco!" + +WITNESS.--"Yes, your Honor, I--I think it was." + +THE COURT.--"Well, then, go on." + +WITNESS.--"It was up in the Square. Jones meets Smith, and they both go +at it--that is, blackguarding each other. One called the other a thief, +and the other said he was a liar, and then they got to swearing +backwards and forwards pretty generally, as you might say, and finally +one struck the other over the head with a cane, and then they closed and +fell, and after that they made such a dust and the gravel flew so thick +that I couldn't rightly tell which was getting the best of it. When it +cleared away, one of them was after the other with a pine bench, and the +other was prospecting for rocks, and--" + +LAWYER.--"There, there, there--that will do--that--will--do! How in the +world is any one to make head or tail out of such a string of nonsense +as that? Who struck the first blow?" + +WITNESS.--"I can not rightly say, sir, but I think--" + +LAWYER.--"You think!--don't you know?" + +WITNESS.--"No, sir, it was all so sudden, and--" + +LAWYER.--"Well, then, state, if you can, who struck the last." + +WITNESS.--"I can't, sir, because--" + +LAWYER.--"Because what?" + +WITNESS.--"Because, sir, you see toward the last they clinched and went +down, and got to kicking up the gravel again, and--" + +LAWYER.--(Resignedly)--"Take the witness--take the witness." + +(The testimony on the cross-examination went to show that during the +fight, one of the parties drew a slung-shot and cocked it, but to the +best of the witness' knowledge and belief, he did not fire; and at the +same time, the other discharged a hand-grenade at his antagonist, which +missed him and did no damage, except blowing up a bonnet store on the +other side of the street, and creating a momentary diversion among the +milliners.) He could not say, however, which drew the slung-shot or +which threw the grenade. (It was generally remarked by those in the +court room, that the evidence of the witness was obscure and +unsatisfactory. Upon questioning him further, and confronting him with +the parties to the case before the court, it transpired that the faces +of Jones and Smith were unknown to him, and that he had been talking +about an entirely different fight all the time.) + +Other witnesses were examined, some of whom swore that Smith was the +aggressor, and others that Jones began the row; some said they fought +with their fists, others that they fought with knives, others tomahawks, +others revolvers, others clubs, others axes, others beer mugs and +chairs, and others swore there had been no fight at all. However, fight +or no fight, the testimony was straightforward and uniform on one point, +at any rate, and that was, that the fuss was about two dollars and forty +cents, which one party owed the other, but after all, it was impossible +to find out which was the debtor and which the creditor. + +After the witnesses had all been heard, his Honor, Judge Sheperd, +observed that the evidence in this case resembled, in a great many +points, the evidence before him in some thirty-five cases every day, on +an average. He then said he would continue the case, to afford the +parties an opportunity of procuring more testimony. + +(I have been keeping an eye on the Police Court for the last few days. +Two friends of mine had business there, on account of assault and +battery concerning Washoe stocks, and I felt interested, of course.) I +never knew their names were James Johnson and John Ward, though, until I +heard them answer to them in that court. When James Johnson was called, +one of these young men said to the other: "That's you, my boy." "No," +was the reply, "it's you--my name's John Ward--see, I've got it written +here on a card." Consequently, the first speaker sung out, "Here!" and +it was all right. As I was saying, I have been keeping an eye on that +court, and I have arrived at the conclusion that the office of Police +Judge is a profitable and a comfortable thing to have, but then, as the +English hunter said about fighting tigers in India under a shortness of +ammunition, "It has its little drawbacks." Hearing testimony must be +worrying to a Police Judge sometimes, when he is in his right mind. I +would rather be secretary to a wealthy mining company, and have nothing +to do but advertise the assessments and collect them in carefully, and +go along quiet and upright, and be one of the noblest works of God, and +never gobble a dollar that didn't belong to me--all just as those +fellows do, you know. (Oh, I have no talent for sarcasm, it isn't +likely.) But I trespass. + +Now, with every confidence in the instinctive candor and fair dealing of +my race, I submit the testimony in the case of Smith vs. Jones to the +people, without comment or argument, well satisfied that after a perusal +of it, their judgment will be as righteous as it is final and impartial, +and that whether Smith be cast out and Jones exalted, or Jones cast out +and Smith exalted, the decision will be a holy and a just one. + +I leave the accused and the accuser before the bar of the world--let +their fate be pronounced. + + + + +A DOUBLE-DYED DECEIVER + +BY O. HENRY + + +The trouble began in Laredo. It was the Llano Kid's fault, for he should +have confined his habit of manslaughter to Mexicans. But the Kid was +past twenty; and to have only Mexicans to one's credit at twenty is to +blush unseen on the Rio Grande border. + +It happened in old Justo Valdos's gambling house. There was a poker game +at which sat players who were not all friends, as happens often where +men ride in from afar to shoot Folly as she gallops. There was a row +over so small a matter as a pair of queens; and when the smoke had +cleared away it was found that the Kid had committed an indiscretion, +and his adversary had been guilty of a blunder. For, the unfortunate +combatant, instead of being a Greaser, was a high-blooded youth from the +cow ranches, of about the Kid's own age and possessed of friends and +champions. His blunder in missing the Kid's right ear only a sixteenth +of an inch when he pulled his gun did not lessen the indiscretion of the +better marksman. + +The Kid, not being equipped with a retinue, nor bountifully supplied +with personal admirers and supporters--on account of a rather umbrageous +reputation even for the border--considered it not incompatible with his +indisputable gameness to perform that judicious tractional act known as +"pulling his freight." + +Quickly the avengers gathered and sought him. Three of them overtook him +within a rod of the station. The Kid turned and showed his teeth in that +brilliant but mirthless smile that usually preceded his deeds of +insolence and violence, and his pursuers fell back without making it +necessary for him even to reach for his weapon. + +But in this affair the Kid had not felt the grim thirst for encounter +that usually urged him on to battle. It had been a purely chance row, +born of the cards and certain epithets impossible for a gentleman to +brook, that had passed between the two. The Kid had rather liked the +slim, haughty, brown-faced young chap whom his bullet had cut off in the +first pride of manhood. And now he wanted no more blood. He wanted to +get away and have a good long sleep somewhere in the sun on the mesquit +grass with his handkerchief over his face. Even a Mexican might have +crossed his path in safety while he was in this mood. + +The Kid openly boarded the north-bound passenger-train that departed +five minutes later. But at Webb, a few miles out, where it was flagged +to take on a traveler, he abandoned that manner of escape. There were +telegraph stations ahead; and the Kid looked askance at electricity and +steam. Saddle and spur were his rocks of safety. + +The man whom he had shot was a stranger to him. But the Kid knew that he +was of the Corralitos outfit from Hidalgo; and that the punchers from +that ranch were more relentless and vengeful than Kentucky feudists when +wrong or harm was done to one of them. So, with the wisdom that has +characterized many great fighters, the Kid decided to pile up as many +leagues as possible of chaparral and pear between himself and the +retaliation of the Corralitos bunch. + +Near the station was a store; and near the store, scattered among the +mesquits and elms, stood the saddled horses of the customers. Most of +them waited, half asleep, with sagging limbs and drooping heads. But +one, a long-legged roan with a curved neck, snorted and pawed the turf. +Him the Kid mounted, gripped with his knees, and slapped gently with the +owner's own quirt. + +If the slaying of the temerarious card-player had cast a cloud over the +Kid's standing as a good and true citizen, this last act of his veiled +his figure in the darkest shadows of disrepute. On the Rio Grande +border, if you take a man's life you sometimes take trash; but if you +take his horse, you take a thing the loss of which renders him poor, +indeed, and which enriches you not--if you are caught. For the Kid there +was no turning back now. + +With the springing roan under him he felt little care or uneasiness. +After a five-mile gallop he drew in to the plainsman's jogging trot, and +rode northeastward toward the Nueces River bottoms. He knew the country +well--its most tortuous and obscure trails through the great wilderness +of brush and pear, and its camps and lonesome ranches where one might +find safe entertainment. Always he bore to the east; for the Kid had +never seen the ocean, and he had a fancy to lay his hand upon the mane +of the great Gulf, the gamesome colt of the greater waters. + +So after three days he stood on the shore at Corpus Christi, and looked +out across the gentle ripples of a quiet sea. + +Captain Boone, of the schooner Flyaway, stood near his skiff, which +one of his crew was guarding in the surf. When ready to sail he +had discovered that one of the necessaries of life, in the +parallelogrammatic shape of plug tobacco, had been forgotten. A sailor +had been despatched for the missing cargo. Meanwhile the captain paced +the sands, chewing profanely at his pocket store. + +A slim, wiry youth in high-heeled boots came down to the water's edge. +His face was boyish but with a premature severity that hinted at a man's +experience. His complexion was naturally dark; and the sun and wind of +an outdoor life had burned it to a coffee brown. His hair was as black +and straight as an Indian's; his face had not yet been upturned to the +humiliation of a razor; his eyes were a cold and steady blue. He carried +his left arm somewhat away from his body, for pearl-handled .45s are +frowned upon by town marshals, and are a little bulky when packed in the +left armhole of one's vest. He looked beyond Captain Boone at the gulf +with the impersonal and expressionless dignity of a Chinese emperor. + +"Thinkin' of buyin' that 'ar gulf, buddy?" asked the captain, made +sarcastic by his narrow escape from a tobaccoless voyage. + +"Why, no," said the Kid gently, "I reckon not. I never saw it before. I +was just looking at it. Not thinking of selling it, are you?" + +"Not this trip," said the captain. "I'll send it to you C. O. D. when I +get back to Buenas Tierras. Here comes that capstan-footed lubber with +the chewin'. I ought to've weighed anchor an hour ago." + +"Is that your ship out there?" asked the Kid. + +"Why, yes," answered the captain, "if you want to call a schooner a +ship, and I don't mind lyin'. But you better say Miller and Gonzales, +owners, and ordinary, plain, Billy-be-damned old Samuel K. Boone, +skipper." + +"Where are you going to?" asked the refugee. + +"Buenas Tierras, coast of South America--I forget what they called the +country the last time I was there. Cargo--lumber, corrugated iron, and +machetes." + +"What kind of a country is it?" asked the Kid--"hot or cold?" + +"Warmish, buddy," said the captain. "But a regular Paradise Lost for +elegance of scenery and be-yooty of geography. Ye're wakened every +morning by the sweet singin' of red birds with seven purple tails, and +the sighin' of breezes in the posies and roses. And the inhabitants +never work, for they can reach out and pick steamer baskets of the +choicest hothouse fruit without gettin' out of bed. And there's no +Sunday and no ice and no rent and no troubles and no use and no nothin'. +It's a great country for a man to go to sleep with, and wait for +somethin' to turn up. The bananys and oranges and hurricanes and +pineapples that ye eat comes from there." + +"That sounds to me!" said the Kid, at last betraying interest. "What'll +the expressage be to take me out there with you?" + +"Twenty-four dollars," said Captain Boone; "grub and transportation. +Second cabin. I haven't got a first cabin." + +"You've got my company," said the Kid, pulling out a buckskin bag. + +With three hundred dollars he had gone to Laredo for his regular +"blowout." The duel in Valdo's had cut short his season of hilarity, but +it had left him with nearly $200 for aid in the flight that it had made +necessary. + +"All right, buddy," said the captain. "I hope your ma won't blame me for +this little childish escapade of yours." He beckoned to one of the +boat's crew. "Let Sanchez lift you out to the skiff so you won't get +your feet wet." + + +II + +Thacker, the United States consul at Buenas Tierras, was not yet drunk. +It was only eleven o'clock; and he never arrived at his desired state +of beatitude--a state wherein he sang ancient maudlin vaudeville songs +and pelted his screaming parrot with banana peels--until the middle of +the afternoon. So, when he looked up from his hammock at the sound of a +slight cough, and saw the Kid standing in the door of the consulate, he +was still in a condition to extend the hospitality and courtesy due from +the representative of a great nation. + +"Don't disturb yourself," said the Kid easily. "I just dropped in. They +told me it was customary to light at your camp before starting in to +round up the town. I just came in on a ship from Texas." + +"Glad to see you, Mr. ----," said the consul. + +The Kid laughed. + +"Sprague Dalton," he said. "It sounds funny to me to hear it. I'm called +the Llano Kid in the Rio Grande country." + +"I'm Thacker," said the consul. "Take that cane-bottom chair. Now if +you've come to invest, you want somebody to advise you. These dingies +will cheat you out of the gold in your teeth if you don't understand +their ways. Try a cigar?" + +"Much obliged," said the Kid, "but if it wasn't for my corn shucks and +the little bag in my back pocket, I couldn't live a minute." He took out +his "makings," and rolled a cigarette. + +"They speak Spanish here," said the consul. "You'll need an interpreter. +If there's anything I can do, why, I'd be delighted. If you're buying +fruit lands or looking for a concession of any sort, you'll want +somebody who knows the ropes to look out for you." + +"I speak Spanish," said the Kid, "about nine times better than I do +English. Everybody speaks it on the range where I come from. And I'm +not in the market for anything." + +"You speak Spanish?" said Thacker thoughtfully. He regarded the Kid +absorbedly. + +"You look like a Spaniard, too," he continued. "And you're from Texas. +And you can't be more than twenty or twenty-one. I wonder if you've got +any nerve." + +"You got a deal of some kind to put through?" asked the Texan, with +unexpected shrewdness. + +"Are you open to a proposition?" said Thacker. + +"What's the use to deny it?" said the Kid. "I got into a little gun +frolic down in Laredo and plugged a white man. There wasn't any Mexican +handy. And I come down to your parrot-and-monkey range just for to smell +the morning-glories and marigolds. Now, do you _sabe_?" + +Thacker got up and closed the door. + +"Let me see your hand," he said. + +He took the Kid's left hand, and examined the back of it closely. + +"I can do it," he said excitedly. "Your flesh is as hard as wood and as +healthy as a baby's. It will heal in a week." + +"If it's a fist fight you want to back me for," said the Kid, "don't put +your money up yet. Make it gun work, and I'll keep you company. But no +barehanded scrapping, like ladies at a tea-party, for me." + +"It's easier than that," said Thacker. "Just step here, will you?" + +Through the window he pointed to a two-story white-stuccoed house with +wide galleries rising amid the deep green tropical foliage on a wooded +hill that sloped gently from the sea. + +"In that house," said Thacker, "a fine old Castilian gentleman and his +wife are yearning to gather you into their arms and fill your pockets +with money. Old Santos Urique lives there. He owns half the gold-mines +in the country." + +"You haven't been eating loco weed, have you?" asked the Kid. + +"Sit down again," said Thacker, "and I'll tell you. Twelve years ago +they lost a kid. No, he didn't die--although most of 'em here do from +drinking the surface water. He was a wild little devil, even if he +wasn't but eight years old. Everybody knows about it. Some Americans who +were through here prospecting for gold had letters to Senor Urique, and +the boy was a favorite with them. They filled his head with big stories +about the States; and about a month after they left, the kid +disappeared, too. He was supposed to have stowed himself away among the +banana bunches on a fruit steamer, and gone to New Orleans. He was seen +once afterward in Texas, it was thought, but they never heard anything +more of him. Old Urique has spent thousands of dollars having him looked +for. The madam was broken up worst of all. The kid was her life. She +wears mourning yet. But they say she believes he'll come back to her +some day, and never gives up hope. On the back of the boy's left hand +was tattooed a flying eagle carrying a spear in his claws. That's old +Urique's coat of arms or something that he inherited in Spain." + +The Kid raised his left hand slowly and gazed at it curiously. + +"That's it," said Thacker, reaching behind the official desk for his +bottle of smuggled brandy. "You're not so slow. I can do it. What was I +consul at Sandakan for? I never knew till now. In a week I'll have the +eagle bird with the frog-sticker blended in so you'd think you were +born with it. I brought a set of the needles and ink just because I was +sure you'd drop in some day, Mr. Dalton." + +"Oh, hell," said the Kid. "I thought I told you." + +"All right, 'Kid,' then. It won't be that long. How does Senorito Urique +sound, for a change?" + +"I never played son any that I remember of," said the Kid. "If I had any +parents to mention they went over the divide about the time I gave my +first bleat. What is the plan of your round-up?" + +Thacker leaned back against the wall and held his glass up to the light. + +"We've come now," said he, "to the question of how far you're willing to +go in a little matter of the sort." + +"I told you why I came down here," said the Kid simply. + +"A good answer," said the consul. "But you won't have to go that far. +Here's the scheme. After I get the trade-mark tattooed on your hand I'll +notify old Urique. In the meantime I'll furnish you with all of the +family history I can find out, so you can be studying up points to talk +about. You've got the looks, you speak the Spanish, you know the facts, +you can tell about Texas, you've got the tattoo mark. When I notify them +that the rightful heir has returned and is waiting to know whether he +will be received and pardoned, what will happen? They'll simply rush +down here and fall on your neck, and the curtain goes down for +refreshments and a stroll in the lobby." + +"I'm waiting," said the Kid. "I haven't had my saddle off in your camp +long, pardner, and I never met you before; but if you intend to let it +go at a parental blessing, why, I'm mistaken in my man, that's all." + +"Thanks," said the consul. "I haven't met anybody in a long time that +keeps up with an argument as well as you do. The rest of it is simple. +If they take you in only for a while it's long enough. Don't give 'em +time to hunt up the strawberry mark on your left shoulder. Old Urique +keeps anywhere from $50,000 to $100,000 in his house all the time in a +little safe that you could open with a shoe buttoner. Get it. My skill +as a tattooer is worth half the boodle. We go halves and catch a tramp +steamer for Rio Janeiro. Let the United States go to pieces if it can't +get along without my services. _Que dice, senor?_" + +"It sounds to me!" said the Kid, nodding his head. "I'm out for the +dust." + +"All right, then," said Thacker. "You'll have to keep close until we get +the bird on you. You can live in the back room here. I do my own +cooking, and I'll make you as comfortable as a parsimonious Government +will allow me." + +Thacker had set the time at a week, but it was two weeks before the +design that he patiently tattooed upon the Kid's hand was to his notion. +And then Thacker called a _muchacho_, and despatched this note to the +intended victim: + + EL SENOR DON SANTOS URIQUE, + + LA CASA BLANCA. + + _My Dear Sir:_ I beg permission to inform you that there is in my + house as a temporary guest a young man who arrived in Buenas + Tierras from the United States some days ago. Without wishing to + excite any hopes that may not be realized, I think there is a + possibility of his being your long-absent son. It might be well for + you to call and see him. If he is, it is my opinion that his + intention was to return to his home, but upon arriving here, his + courage failed him from doubts as to how he would be received. + + Your true servant, + + THOMPSON THACKER. + +Half an hour afterward--quick time for Buenas Tierras--Senor Urique's +ancient landau drove to the consul's door, with the barefooted coachman +beating and shouting at the team of fat, awkward horses. + +A tall man with a white mustache alighted, and assisted to the ground a +lady who was dressed and veiled in unrelieved black. + +The two hastened inside, and were met by Thacker with his best +diplomatic bow. By his desk stood a slender young man with clear-cut, +sun-browned features and smoothly brushed black hair. + +Senora Urique threw back her heavy veil with a quick gesture. She was +past middle age, and her hair was beginning to silver, but her full, +proud figure and clear olive skin retained traces of the beauty peculiar +to the Basque province. But, once you had seen her eyes, and +comprehended the great sadness that was revealed in their deep shadows +and hopeless expression, you saw that the woman lived only in some +memory. + +She bent upon the young man a long look of the most agonized +questioning. Then her great black eyes turned, and her gaze rested upon +his left hand. And then with a sob, not loud, but seeming to shake the +room, she cried "_Hijo mio!_" and caught the Llano Kid to her heart. + + +III + +A month afterward the Kid came to the consulate in response to a message +sent by Thacker. + +He looked the young Spanish _caballero_. His clothes were imported, and +the wiles of the jewelers had not been spent upon him in vain. A more +than respectable diamond shone on his finger as he rolled a shuck +cigarette. + +"What's doing?" asked Thacker. + +"Nothing much," said the Kid calmly. "I eat my first iguana steak +to-day. They're them big lizards, you _sabe_? I reckon, though, that +frijoles and side bacon would do me about as well. Do you care for +iguanas, Thacker?" + +"No, nor for some other kinds of reptiles," said Thacker. + +It was three in the afternoon, and in another hour he would be in his +state of beatitude. + +"It's time you were making good, sonny," he went on, with an ugly look +on his reddened face. "You're not playing up to me square. You've been +the prodigal son for four weeks now, and you could have had veal for +every meal on a gold dish if you'd wanted it. Now, Mr. Kid, do you think +it's right to leave me out so long on a husk diet? What's the trouble? +Don't you get your filial eyes on anything that looks like cash in the +Casa Blanca? Don't tell me you don't. Everybody knows where old Urique +keeps his stuff. It's U. S. currency, too; he don't accept anything +else. What's doing? Don't say 'nothing' this time." + +"Why, sure," said the Kid, admiring his diamond, "there's plenty of +money up there. I'm no judge of collateral in bunches, but I will +undertake for to say that I've seen the rise of $50,000 at a time in +that tin grub box that my adopted father calls his safe. And he lets me +carry the key sometimes just to show me that he knows I'm the real +little Francisco that strayed from the herd a long time ago." + +"Well, what are you waiting for?" asked Thacker angrily. "Don't you +forget that I can upset your apple cart any day I want to. If old Urique +knew you were an impostor, what sort of things would happen to you? Oh, +you don't know this country, Mr. Texas Kid. The laws here have got +mustard spread between 'em. These people here'd stretch you out like a +frog that had been stepped on, and give you about fifty sticks at every +corner of the plaza. And they'd wear every stick out, too. What was left +of you they'd feed to alligators." + +"I might as well tell you now, pardner," said the Kid, sliding down low +on his steamer chair, "that things are going to stay just as they are. +They're about right now." + +"What do you mean?" asked Thacker, rattling the bottom of his glass on +his desk. + +"The scheme's off," said the Kid. "And whenever you have the pleasure of +speaking to me address me as Don Francisco Urique. I'll guarantee I'll +answer to it. We'll let Colonel Urique keep his money. His little tin +safe is as good as the time-locker in the First National Bank of Laredo +as far as you and me are concerned." + +"You're going to throw me down, then, are you?" said the consul. + +"Sure," said the Kid cheerfully. "Throw you down. That's it. And now +I'll tell you why. The first night I was up at the colonel's house they +introduced me to a bedroom. No blankets on the floor--a real room, with +a bed and things in it. And before I was asleep, in comes this +artificial mother of mine and tucks in the covers. 'Panchito,' she says, +'my little lost one, God has brought you back to me. I bless his name +forever.' It was that, or some truck like that, she said. And down comes +a drop or two of rain and hits me on the nose. And all that stuck by me, +Mr. Thacker. And it's been that way ever since. And it's got to stay +that way. Don't you think that it's for what's in it for me, either, +that I say so. If you have any such ideas, keep 'em to yourself. I +haven't had much truck with women in my life, and no mothers to speak +of, but here's a lady that we've got to keep fooled. Once she stood it; +twice she won't. I'm a low-down wolf, and the devil may have sent me on +this trail instead of God, but I'll travel it to the end. And now, don't +forget that I'm Don Francisco Urique whenever you happen to mention my +name." + +"I'll expose you to-day, you--you double-dyed traitor," stammered +Thacker. + +The Kid arose and, without violence, took Thacker by the throat with a +hand of steel, and shoved him slowly into a corner. Then he drew from +under his left arm his pearl-handled .45 and poked the cold muzzle of it +against the consul's mouth. + +"I told you why I come here," he said, with his old freezing smile. "If +I leave here, you'll be the reason. Never forget it, pardner. Now, what +is my name?" + +"Er--Don Francisco Urique," gasped Thacker. + +From outside came a sound of wheels, and the shouting of some one, and +the sharp thwacks of a wooden whipstock upon the backs of fat horses. + +The Kid put up his gun, and walked toward the door. But he turned again +and came back to the trembling Thacker, and held up his left hand with +its back toward the consul. + +"There's one more reason," he said slowly, "why things have got to stand +as they are. The fellow I killed in Laredo had one of them same pictures +on his left hand." + +Outside, the ancient landau of Don Santos Urique rattled to the door. +The coachman ceased his bellowing. Senora Urique, in a voluminous gay +gown of white lace and flying ribbons, leaned forward with a happy look +in her great soft eyes. + +"Are you within, dear son?" she called, in the rippling Castilian. + +"_Madre mio, yo vengo_ [mother, I come]," answered the young Don +Francisco Urique. + + + + +AN OLD-TIME SINGER + +BY FRANK L. STANTON + + + I don't want any hymnbook when the Methodists is nigh, + A-linin' out the ol' ones that went thrillin' to the sky + In the ol' campmeetin' seasons, when 'twuz "Glory hallelu!" + An' "Brother, rise an' tell us what the Lord has done fer you!" + + Fer I know them songs so perfect that when I git the swing + O' the tune they want to go to I kin shet my eyes an' sing! + "On Jordan's stormy banks," an' ol' "Amazin' Grace"--they seem + So nat'ral, I'm like some one that's singin' in a dream! + + Oh, when it comes to them ol' songs I allus does my part; + An' I've got the ol'-time Bible down, as you might say, "by heart!" + When the preacher says the fust word in the givin' of his text + I smile with satisfaction, kaze I know what's comin' next! + + The wife says: "That's amazin'!" an' the preacher says--says he, + With lots o' meanin' in his voice, an' lookin' queer at me "Sence + you know more o' the Bible than the best o' us kin teach, + Don't you think you orter practice what you're payin' us to preach?" + + Well, _that_ gits me in a _corner_--an' I sorter raise my eyes + An' the tune about them titles to the "mansions in the skies"! + I want the benediction then--I'm ready to depart! + But when it comes to singin'--well, I've got the hymns by heart! + + + + +BREITMANN IN POLITICS + +SHOWING HOW MR. HIRAM TWINE "PLAYED OFF" ON SMITH + +BY CHARLES GODFREY LELAND + + + VIDE LICET: Dere vas a fillage + Whose vode alone vouldt pe + Apout enoof to elegdt a man, + Und gife a mayority; + So de von who couldt scoop dis seddlement + Vould make a pully hit; + Boot dough dey vere Deutschers, von und all, + Dey all go von on Schmit. + + Now it happenet to gome to bass + Dat in dis liddle town + De Deutsch vas all exshpegdin + Dat Mishder Schmit coom down, + His brinciples to fore-setzen + Und his idees to deach, + (Dat is, fix oop de brifate pargains) + Und telifer a pooblic sbeech. + + Now Twine vas a gyrotwistive cuss, + Ash blainly ish peen shown, + Und vas alfays an out-findin + Votefer might pe known; + Und mit some of his circumswindles + He fix de matter so + Dat he'd pe himself at dis meetin + And see how dings vas go. + + Oh shtrangely in dis leben + De dings kits vorked apout! + Oh voonderly Fortuna + Makes toorn us insite out! + Oh sinkular de luck-wheel rolls! + Dis liddle meeding dere + Fixt Twine _ad perpendiculum_-- + Shoost suit him to a hair! + + Now it hoppenit on dis efenin + De Deutschers, von und all, + Vere avaitin mit impatience + De openin of de ball; + Und de shates of nite vere fallin + Und de shdars begin to plink, + Und dey vish dat Schmit vouldt hoorry, + For 'dvas dime to dake a trink. + + Dey hear some hoofs a-dramplin, + Und dey saw, und dinked dey knowed, + Der bretty greature coomin, + On his horse along de road; + Und ash he ride town in-ward + De likeness vas so plain + Dey donnered out, "Hooray for Schmit!" + Enough to make it rain. + + Der Twine vas shtart like plazes; + Boot oopshtarted too his wit, + Und he dinks, "Great Turnips! what if I + Could bass for Colonel Schmit? + Gaul dern my heels! _I'll do it_, + Und go the total swine! + Oh, Soap-balls! what a chance!" said dis + Dissembulatin Twine. + + Den 'twas "Willkomm! willkomm, Mishder Schmit!" + Ringsroom on efery site; + Und "First-rate! How dy-do yourself?" + Der Hiram Twine replied. + Dey ashk him, "Come und dake a trink?" + But dey find it mighdy queer + Ven Twine informs dem none boot hogs + Vould trink dat shtinkin bier; + + Dat all lager vas nodings boot boison; + Und ash for Sherman wein, + He dinks it vas erfounden + Exshbressly for Sherman schwein; + Dat he himself vas a demperanceler-- + Dat he gloria in de name; + Und atfise dem all, for tecency's sake, + To go und do de same. + + Dese bemarks among de Deutschers + Vere apout ash vell receife + Ash a cats in a game of den-bins, + Ash you may of coorse peliefe: + De heat of de reception + Vent down a dootzen tegrees, + Und in place of hurraws dere vas only heardt + De rooslin of de drees. + + Und so in solemn stille + Dey scorched him to de hall, + Vhere he maket de oradion + Vitch vas so moosh to blease dem all; + Und dis vay he pegin it: + "Pefore I furder go, + I vish dat my obinions + You puddin-het Dootch should know. + + "Und ere I norate to you, + I think it only fair + We should oonderstand each other + Prezactly, chunk and square. + Dere are boints on vhich ve tisagree, + And I will plank de facts-- + I don't go round slanganderin + My friendts pehind deir packs. + + "So I beg you dake it easy + If on de raw I touch, + Vhen I say I can't apide de sound + Of your groontin, shi-shing Dutch. + Should I in the Legisladure + As your slumgullion shtand, + I'll have a bill forbidding Dutch + Troo all dis 'versal land. + + "Should a husband talk it to his frau, + To deat' he should pe led; + If a mutter breat' it to her shild, + I'd bunch her in de head; + Und I'm sure dat none vill atfocate + Ids use in public schools, + Oonless dey're peastly, nashdy, prutal, + Sauerkraut-eaten vools." + + Here Mishder Twine, to gadder breat, + Shoost make a liddle pause, + Und see sechs hundert gapin eyes, + Sechs hundert shdarin chaws, + Dey shtanden erstarrt like frozen; + Von faindly dried to hiss; + Und von set: "Ish it shleeps I'm treamin? + Gottausend! vat ish dis?" + + Twine keptet von eye on de vindow, + Boot poldly went ahet: + "Of your oder shtinkin hobits + No vordt needt hier pe set. + Shtop goozlin bier--shtop shmokin bipes-- + Shtop rootin in de mire; + Und shoost _un-Dutchify_ yourselfs: + Dat's all dat I require." + + Und _denn_ dere coomed a shindy, + Ash if de shky hat trop: + "Trow him mit ecks, py doonder! + Go shlog him on de kop! + Hei! Shoot him mit a powie-knifes; + Go for him, ganz and gar! + Shoost tar him mit some fedders! + Led's fedder him mit tar!" + + Sooch a teufel's row of furie + Vas nefer oop-kickt before: + Soom roosh to on-climb de blatform-- + Soom hoory to fasten te toor: + Von veller vired his refolfer, + Boot de pullet missed her mark: + She coot de cort of de shandelier: + It vell, und de hall vas tark! + + Oh, vell was it for Hiram Twine + Dat nimply he couldt shoomp; + Und vell dat he light on a misthauf, + Und nefer feel de boomp; + Und vell for him dat his goot cray horse + Shtood sattled shoost outside; + Und vell dat in an augenblick + He vas off on a teufel's ride. + + Bang! bang! de sharp pistolen shots + Vent pipin py his ear, + Boot he tortled oop de barrick road + Like any mountain deer: + Dey trowed der Hiram Twine mit shteins, + But dey only could be-mark + Von climpse of his vhite obercoadt, + Und a clotterin in de tark. + + So dey all versembled togeder, + Ein ander to sprechen mit, + Und allow dat sooch a rede + Dey nefer exshpegd from Schmit-- + Dat he vas a foorst-glass plackguard, + And so pig a Lump ash ran; + So, _nemine contradicente_, + Dey vented for Breitmann. + + Und 'twas annerthalb yar dereafter + Before der Schmit vas know + Vot maket dis rural fillage + Go pack oopon him so; + Und he schvored at de Dootch more schlimmer + Ash Hiram Twine had tone. + _Nota bene_: He tid it in earnesht, + Vhile der Hiram's vas pusiness fun. + + Boot vhen Breitmann heard de shdory, + How de fillage hat peen dricked, + He shvore bei Leib und Leben + He'd rader hafe been licked + Dan be helped bei sooch shumgoozlin; + Und 'twas petter to pe a schwein + Dan a schwindlin honeyfooglin shnake, + Like dat lyin Yankee Twine. + + Und pegot so heafy disgoosted + Mit de boledicks of dis land, + Dat his friendts couldn't barely keep him + From trowin oop his hand, + Vhen he helt shtraidt flush, mit an ace in his poot; + Vich phrase ish all de same, + In de science of de pokerology, + Ash if he got de game. + + So Breitmann cot elegtet, + Py vollowin de vay + Dey manage de elegdions + Unto dis fery day; + Vitch shows de Deutsch _Dummehrlichkeit_, + Also de Yankee "wit": + Das ist Abenteuer + How Breitmann lick der Schmit. + + + + +LOVE SONG + +BY CHARLES GODFREY LELAND + + + Overe mine lofe a sugar-powl, + De fery shmallest loomp + Vouldt shveet de seas from bole to bole, + Und make de shildren shoomp. + Und if she vere a clofer-fieldt, + I'd bet mine only pence, + It vouldn't pe no dime at all + Pefore I'd shoomp de fence. + + Her heafenly foice it drill me so, + It really seems to hoort; + She ish de holiest anamile + Dat roons oopon de dirt. + De re'nbow rises ven she sings, + De sonn shine ven she dalk, + De angels crow und flop deir vings + Ven she goes out to valk. + + So livin vhite--so carnadine-- + Mine lofe's gomblexion glow; + It's shoost like abendcarmosine + Rich gleamin on de shnow. + Her soul makes plooshes in her sheek, + As sommer reds de wein, + Or sonlight sends a fire-life troo + An blank karfunkelstein. + + De ueberschwengliche idees + Dis lofe put in my mind, + Vould make a foostrate philosoph + Of any human kind. + 'Tis shuderned sweet on eart' to meet + An himmlisch-hoellisch qual, + Und treat mit whiles to kuemmel schnapps + De Shoenheitsideal. + + + + +CONTENTMENT + +"_Man wants but little here below_" + +BY OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES + + + Little I ask; my wants are few; + I only wish a hut of stone, + (A _very plain_ brownstone will do,) + That I may call my own;-- + And close at hand is such a one, + In yonder street that fronts the sun. + + Plain food is quite enough for me; + Three courses are as good as ten;-- + If Nature can subsist on three, + Thank Heaven for three. Amen! + I always thought cold victual nice;-- + My _choice_ would be vanilla-ice. + + I care not much for gold or land;-- + Give me a mortgage here and there,-- + Some good bank-stock, some note of hand, + Or trifling railroad share,-- + I only ask that Fortune send + A _little_ more than I shall spend. + + Honors are silly toys, I know, + And titles are but empty names; + I would, _perhaps_, be Plenipo,-- + But only near St. James; + I'm very sure I should not care + To fill our Gubernator's chair. + + Jewels are bawbles; 'tis a sin + To care for such unfruitful things;-- + One good-sized diamond in a pin,-- + Some, _not so large_, in rings,-- + A ruby, and a pearl, or so, + Will do for me;--I laugh at show. + + My dame should dress in cheap attire; + (Good, heavy silks are never dear;)-- + I own perhaps I _might_ desire + Some shawls of true Cashmere,-- + Some marrowy crapes of China silk, + Like wrinkled skins on scalded milk. + + I would not have the horse I drive + So fast that folks must stop and stare; + An easy gait--two, forty-five-- + Suits me; I do not care;-- + Perhaps, for just a _single spurt_, + Some seconds less would do no hurt. + + Of pictures, I should like to own + Titians and Raphaels three or four,-- + I love so much their style and tone,-- + One Turner, and no more, + (A landscape,--foreground golden dirt,-- + The sunshine painted with a squirt.) + + Of books but few,--some fifty score + For daily use, and bound for wear; + The rest upon an upper floor;-- + Some _little_ luxury _there_ + Of red morocco's gilded gleam, + And vellum rich as country cream. + + Busts, cameos, gems,--such things as these, + Which others often show for pride, + _I_ value for their power to please, + And selfish churls deride;-- + _One_ Stradivarius, I confess, + _Two_ Meerschaums, I would fain possess. + + Wealth's wasteful tricks I will not learn + Nor ape the glittering upstart fool;-- + Shall not carved tables serve my turn, + But _all_ must be of buhl? + Give grasping pomp its double share,-- + I ask but _one_ recumbent chair. + + Thus humble let me live and die, + Nor long for Midas' golden touch; + If Heaven more generous gifts deny, + I shall not miss them _much_,-- + Too grateful for the blessing lent + Of simple tastes and mind content! + + + + +TOM'S MONEY + +BY HARRIET PRESCOTT SPOFFORD + + +Mrs. Laughton had found what she had been looking for all her life--the +man under her bed. + +Every night of her nearly thirty years of existence this pretty little +person had stooped on her knees, before saying her prayers, and had +investigated the space beneath her bed, a light brass affair, hung with +a chintz valance; had then peered beneath the dark recess of the +dressing-case, and having looked in the deep drawer of the bureau and +into the closet, she fastened her door and felt as secure as a snail in +a shell. As she never, in this particular business, seemed to have any +confidence in Mr. Laughton, in spite of the fact that she admired him +and adored him, neither his presence nor his absence ever made any +variation in the performance. She had gone through the motions, however, +for so long a time that they had come to be in a manner perfunctory, and +the start she received on this night of which I speak made her prayers +quite impossible. + +What was she to do? She, a coward _par eminence_, known to be the most +timorous of the whole family; her tremors at all sorts of imagined +dangers affording laughter to the flock of sisters and brothers. Should +she stay on her knees after having seen that dark shape, as if going on +with her prayers, while revolving some plan of procedure? That was out +of the question. Scream? She couldn't have screamed to save her life. +Run? She could no more have set one foot before the other, than if her +body had melted from the waist down. She was deadly faint and cold and +shaking, and all in a second, in the fraction of a second, before she +had risen from her stooping posture. + +Oh, why wasn't it Virginia instead? Virginia had always had such heroic +plans of making the man come out of his hiding-place at the point of her +pistol; and Virginia could cock a pistol and wasn't covered with cold +shivers at the sight of one, as she was. If it had only been Francie, +whose shrill voice could have been heard over the side of the earth, or +Juliet, whose long legs would have left burglar, and house, too, in the +background between the opening and slamming of a door. Either of them +was so much more fit than she, the chicken-hearted one of the family, to +cope with this creature. And they were all gone to the wedding with +Fred, and would not be at home till to-morrow; and Tom had just returned +from the town and handed her his roll of bills, and told her to take +care of it till he came back from galloping down to the works with +Jules; and she had tucked it into her belt, and had asked him, a little +quakingly, what if any of the men of the Dead Line that they had heard +of or Red Dan or an Apache came along; and he had laughed, and said she +had better ask them in and reproach them for making such strangers of +themselves as not to have called in the two years she had been in this +part of the country; and she had the two maids with her, and he should +be back directly. And she had looked out after him a moment over the +wide prairie to the hills, all bathed in moonlight, and felt as if she +were a spirit alone in a dead world. And here she was now, the two maids +away in the little wing, locked out by the main house, alone with a +burglar, and not another being nearer than the works, a half-mile off. + +How did this man know that she was without any help here? How did he +know that Tom was coming back with the money to pay the men that night? +How did he happen to be aware that Tom's money was all in the house? +Evidently he was one of the men. No one else could have known anything +about it. If that money was taken, nobody would believe the story; Tom +would be cashiered; he never could live through the disgrace; he would +die of a broken heart, and she of another. They had come out to this +remote and lonesome country to build up a home and a fortune; and so +many people would be stricken with them! What a mischance for her to be +left with the whole thing in her hands, her little, weak, trembling +hands--Tom's honor, his good name and his success, their fortune, the +welfare of the whole family, the livelihood of all the men, the safety +of the enterprise! What made Tom risk things so! How could he put her in +such jeopardy? To be sure, he thought the dogs would be safeguard +enough, but they had gone scouring after him. And if they hadn't, how +could dogs help her with a man under the bed? + +It was worse than any loss of money to have such a wretch as this so +near one, so shudderingly, so awfully near, to be so close as this to +the bottomless pit itself! What was she to do? Escape? The possibility +did not cross her mind. Not once did she think of letting Tom's money +go. All but annihilated by terror in that heartbeat, she herself was the +last thing she thought of. + +Light and electricity are swift, but thought is swifter. As I said, this +was all in the fraction of a second. Then Mrs. Laughton was on her feet +again and before a pendulum could have more than swung backward. The man +must know she saw him. She took the light brass bedstead and sent it +rolling away from her with all her might and main leaving the creature +uncovered. He lay easily on one side, a stout little club like a +policeman's billy in his hand, some weapons gleaming in his belt, +putting up the other hand to grasp the bedstead as it rolled away. + +"You look pretty, don't you?" said she. + +Perhaps this was as much of a shock to the man as his appearance had +been to her. He was not acquainted with the saying that it is only the +unexpected that happens. + +"Get up," said she. "I'd _be_ a man if I _was_ a man. Get up. I'm not +going to hurt you." + +If the intruder had any sense of humor, this might have touched it; the +idea of this little fairy-queen of a woman, almost small enough to have +stepped out of a rain-lily, hurting him! But it was so different from +what he had been awaiting that it startled him; and then, perhaps, he +had some of the superstition that usually haunts the evil and ignorant, +and felt that such small women were uncanny. He was on his feet now, +towering over her. + +"No," said he, gruffly; "I don't suppose you're going to hurt me. And +I'm not going to hurt you, if you hand over that money." + +"What money?" opening her eyes with a wide sort of astonishment. + +"Come! None of your lip. I want that money!" + +"Why, I haven't any money! Oh, yes, I have, to be sure, but--" + +"I thought you'd remember it," said the man, with a grin. + +"But I want it!" she exclaimed. + +"I want it, too!" said he. + +"Oh, it wouldn't do you any good," she reasoned. "Fifteen dollars. And +it's all the money I've got in the world!" + +"I don't want no fifteen dollars," said the man; "and I don't want none +of your chinning. I want the money your husband's going to pay off +with--" + +"Oh, Tom's money!" in quite a tone of relief. "Oh! I haven't anything to +do with Tom's money. If you can get any money out of Tom it's more than +_I_ can do. And I wouldn't advise you to try, either; for he always +carries a pistol in the same pocket with it, and he's covered all over +with knives and derringers and bull-dogs, so that sometimes _I_ don't +like to go near him till he's unloaded. You have to, in this country of +desperadoes. You see--" + +"Yes, I see, you little hen-sparrer," his eyes coming back to her from a +survey of the room, "that you've got Tom's money in the house here, and +would like to throw me off the scent!" + +"If I had," said she, "you'd only get it across my dead body! Hadn't you +better look for it, and have me tell you when you're hot and when you're +cold?" + +"Come!" said he, again; "I've had enough of your slack--" + +"You're not very polite," she said, with something like a pout. + +"People in my line ain't," he answered, grimly. "I want that money! and +I want it now! I've no time to lose. I'd rather come by it peaceable," +he growled, "but if--" + +"Well, you can take it; of course, you're the stronger. But I told you +before, it's all I have, and I've very particular use for it. You just +sit down!" she cried, indicating a chair, with the air of really having +been alone so long in these desolate regions as to be glad of having +some one to talk to, and throwing herself into the big one opposite, +because in truth she could not stand up another moment. And perhaps +feeling as if a wren were expostulating with him about robbing her +nest, the man dropped the angry arm with which he had threatened her, +and leaned over the back of the chair. + +"There it is," said she, "right under your hand all the time. You won't +have to rip up the mattress for it, or rummage the clothes-press, or +hunt through the broken crockery on the top shelves of the kitchen +cupboard," she ran on, as if she were delighted to hear the sound of her +own voice, and couldn't talk fast enough. "I always leave my purse on +the dressing-case, though Tom has told me, time and again, it wasn't +safe. But out here--" + +"Stop!" thundered the man. "If you know enough to stop. Stop! or I'll +cut your cursed tongue out and make you stop. And then, I suppose, you'd +gurgle. That's not what I want--though I'll take it. I've told _you_, +time and again, that I want the paymaster's money. That isn't right +under my hand--and where is it? I'll put daylight through that little +false heart of yours if you don't give it to me without five more +words--" + +"And I've told you just as often that I've nothing to do with the +paymaster's money, and I wish you would put daylight _anywhere_, for +then my husband would come home and make an end of you!" And with the +great limpid tears overflowing her blue eyes, Rose Laughton knew that +the face she turned up at him was enough to melt the sternest heart +going. + +"Do you mean to tell me--" said he, evidently wavering, and possibly +inclining to doubt if, after all, she were not telling the truth, as no +man in his senses would leave such a sum of money in the keeping of such +a simpleton. + +"I don't mean to tell you anything!" she cried. "You won't believe a +word I say, and I never had any one doubt my word before. I _hate_ to +have you take that fifteen dollars, though. You never would in the +world, if you knew how much self-denial it stands for. Every time I +think I would like an ice-cream, out in this wilderness, where you might +as well ask for an iceberg, I've made Tom give me the _price_ of one. +You won't find anything but ribbons _there_. And when I've felt as if I +should go wild if I couldn't have a box of Huyler's candy, I've made Tom +give me the price of _that_. There's only powder and tweezers and +frizzes in those boxes," as he went over the top of the dressing-case, +still keeping a lookout on her. "And when we were all out of lager and +apollinaris, and Tom couldn't--that's my laces, and I wish you wouldn't +finger them; I don't believe your hands are clean--and Tom couldn't get +anything to drink, I've made him put in the price of a drink, and lots +of ten-cent pieces came that way, and--But I don't imagine you care to +hear about all that. What makes you look at me so?" For the man had left +his search again, and his glance was piercing her through and through. +"Oh, your eyes are like augers turning to live coals!" she cried. "Is +that the way you look at your wife? Do you look at your children the +same way?" + +"That lay won't work," said he, with another grin. "I ain't got no +feelings to work on. I ain't got no wife or kids." + +"I'm sure that's fortunate," said Mrs. Laughton. "A family wouldn't have +any peace of their lives with you following such a dangerous business. +And they couldn't see much of you either. I must say I think you'd be a +great deal happier if you reformed--I mean--well, if you left this +business, and took up a quarter-section, and had a wife and--" + +"Look here!" cried the man, his patience gone. "Are you a fool, or are +you bluffing me? I've half a mind to knock your head in," he cried, +"and hunt the house over for myself! I would, if there was time." + +"You wouldn't find anything if you did," she returned, leaning back in +her chair. "I've looked often enough, when I thought Tom had some money. +I never found any. What are you going to do now?" with a cry of alarm at +his movement. + +"I'm going to tie you hand and foot first--" + +"Oh, I wouldn't! I'd rather you wouldn't--really! I promise you I won't +leave this chair--" + +"I don't mean you shall." + +"Oh, how can you treat me so!" she exclaimed, lifting up her streaming +face. "You don't look like a person to treat a woman so. I don't like to +be tied; it makes me feel so helpless." + +"What kind of a dumb fool be you, anyway?" said the man, stopping a +moment to stare at her. And he made a step then toward the high chest of +drawers, half bureau, half writing-desk, for a ball of tape he saw lying +there. + +"Oh!" she cried, remembering the tar-baby. "Don't! Don't go there! For +mercy's sake, don't go there!" raising her voice till it was like the +wind in the chimney. "Oh, please don't go there!" At which, as if +feeling morally, or rather immorally, sure that what he had come for was +in that spot, he seized the handles of the drawer, and down fell the lid +upon his head with a whack that jammed his hat over his eyes and blinded +him with pain and fury for an instant. And in that instant she had +whipped the roll of money from her belt, and had dropped it underneath +her chair. "I knew it!" she cried. "I knew it would! It always does. I +told you not to go." + +"You shet your mouth quick!" roared the man, with a splutter of oaths +between each word. + +"That's right," she said, leaning over the arm of the chair, her face +like a pitying saint's. "Don't mind me, I always tell Tom to swear, when +he jams his thumb. I know how it is myself when I'm driving a nail. It's +a great relief. I'd put some cold water on your head, but I promised you +I wouldn't stir out of the chair--" + +The man went and sat down in the chair on whose back he had been +leaning. + +"I swear, I don't know what to make of you," said he, rubbing his head +ruefully. + +"You can make friends with me," said she. "That's what you can do. I'm +sure I've shown you that I'm friendly enough. I never believe any harm +of any one till I see it myself. I don't blame you for wanting the +money. I'm always in want of money. I've told you you might take mine, +though I don't want you to. But I shouldn't give you Tom's money, even +if I knew where it was. Tom would kill me if I did, and I might as well +be killed by you as by Tom--and better. You can make friends with me, +and be some protection to me till my husband comes. I'm expecting him +and Jules every moment." + +The man started to his feet. + +"Do you see that?" he cried, holding his revolver under her nose. "Look +right into that gun! We'll have no more fooling. It'll be your last look +if you don't tell me where that money is before I count three." + +She put out her hand and calmly moved it aside. + +"I've looked into those things ever since I've lived on the prairie," +said she. "And I dare say it won't go off--mine won't. Besides, I know +very well you wouldn't shoot a woman, and you can't make bricks without +straw; and then I've told you I don't know anything about that money." + +"You are a game one," said he. + +"No, I'm not," she replied. "I'm the most tremendous coward. I've come +out here in this wild country to live, and I'm alone a great deal, and I +quake at every sound, every creak of a timber, every rustle of the +grass. And you don't know anything about what it is to have your heart +stand still with horror of a wild beast or a wild Indian or a +deserter--a deserting soldier. There's a great Apache down there now, +stretched out in his blanket on the floor, before the fire in the +kitchen. And I came up here as quick as I could, to lock the door behind +us and sit up till Tom came home, and I declare, I never was so thankful +in all my life as I was just now to see a white face when I looked at +you!" + +"Well, I'll be--! Apache!" cried the visitor. "See here, little one, +you've saved your husband's money for him. You're a double-handful of +pluck. I haven't any idea but you know where it's hid--but I've got to +be making tracks. If it wasn't for waking that Apache I'd leave Red +Dan's handwriting on the wall." + +And almost while he was speaking he had swung himself out of the window +to the roof of the porch and had dropped to the ground and made off. + +Mrs. Laughton waited till she thought he must be out of hearing, leaning +out as if she were gazing at the moon. Then she softly shut and fastened +the sash, and crept with shaking limbs to the door and unlocked it, and +fell in a dead faint across the threshold. And there, when he returned +some three-quarters of an hour later, Tom found her. + +"Oh, Tom!" she sobbed, when she became conscious that she was lying in +his arms, his heart beating like a trip-hammer, his voice hoarse with +fright as he implored her to open her eyes; "_is_ there an Apache in the +kitchen?" + + + + +RUBAIYAT OF MATHIEU LETTELLIER + +BY WALLACE BRUCE AMSBARY + + + Dere's six chil_dren_ in our fam'lee, + Dey's mos'ly girls an' boys; + 'Toinette an' me wos t'ankful sure + For all de happy joys; + Dere's Pierre, an' little Rosalie, + Antoine, Marie an' Jeanne, + An' Paul he's com' now soon twelf year, + Mos' close to be a man. + + I's lof' all of _la petite femme_, + De garcon mak' me proud, + I haf gr'ad aspiratione + For all dat little crowd; + My Pierre shall be wan doctor mans, + Rosalie will teach school, + Antoine an' Jeanne shall rone de farm, + Marie som' man will rule. + + An' Paul shall be a _cure_ sure, + I'll haf heem educate', + I work it all out on my head, + Oh, I am moch elate; + Dis all of course w'en dey grow op; + But I t'ink 'bout it now; + So w'en de tam' was com' for ac', + I'll know de way an' how. + + Long tam' ago, w'en Paul firs' com', + He mak' a lot of noise; + He's keep me trot, bot' day an' night, + He was wan naughty boys; + At wan o'clock, at two o'clock, + Annee ol' tam' suit heem, + He's mak' us geeve de gran' parade + Jus' as he tak' de w'im. + + Sooding molass' an' peragork, + On heem ve pour it down, + An' soon he let his music op, + An' don' ac' more lak' clown, + An' den _ma femme_ an' me lay down + To get a little doze, + For w'en you are wan fam'lee man + You don' gat moch repose. + + But w'at's de use to mak' de kick, + Dees fellows boss de place; + I'd radder hear de healt'y lung + An' see de ruddy face + Dan run a gr'ad big doctor's bill, + An' geeve de ol' sex_tone_ + De job, for bury all my kids, + An' leave me all alone. + + An' so our hands is quite ver' full, + Will be, for som' tam' long, + But ven old age is dreeft our vay + An' rest is our belong, + It's den ve'll miss de gran' rac_quette_,-- + May want again de noise + Of six more little children + An' mos'ly girls and boys. + + + + +BIGGS' BAR + +BY HOWARD V. SUTHERLAND + + + 'Twas a sultry afternoon, about the middle of July, + And the men who loafed in Dawson were feeling very dry. + Of liquor there had long been none except a barrel or two, + And that was kept by Major Walsh for himself and a lucky few. + + Now, the men who loaf in Dawson are loafers to the bone, + And take it easy in a way peculiarly their own; + They sit upon the sidewalks and smoke and spit and chew, + And watch the other loafers, and wonder who is who. + + They only work in winter, when the days are short and cold, + And then they heat their cabins, and talk and talk of gold; + They talk about provisions, and sometimes take a walk, + But then they hurry back again and talk, and talk, and talk. + + And the men who loaf in Dawson are superior to style, + For the man who wears a coat _and_ vest is apt to cause a smile; + While he who sports suspenders or a belt would be a butt, + And cause ironic comment, and end by being cut. + + The afternoon was sultry, as I said some time before; + 'Twas fully ninety in the shade (in the sun a darn sight more), + And the men who sat on the sidewalks were, one and all, so dry + That only one perspired, though every one did try. + + Six men were sitting in a line and praying God for air; + They were Joaquin Miller and "Lumber" Lynch and "Stogey" Jack + Ver Mehr, + "Swift-water" Bill and "Caribou" Bill and a sick man from the hills, + Who came to town to swap his dust for a box of liver pills. + + I said they prayed for air, and yet perhaps I tell a lie, + For none of them are holy men, and all of them were dry; + And so I guess 'tis best for me to say just what I think-- + They prayed the Lord to pity them and send them all a drink. + + Then up spoke Joaquin Miller, as he shook his golden locks, + And picked the Dawson splinters from his moccasins and socks + (The others paid attention, for when times are out of joint + What Joaquin Miller utters is always to the point): + + "A foot-sore, weary traveler," the Poet then began, + "Did tell me many moons ago,--and oh! I loved the man,-- + That Biggs who owns the claim next mine had started up a bar. + Let's wander there and quench our thirst." All answered, "Right + you are." + + Now, Biggs is on Bonanza Creek, claim ninety-six, below; + There may be millions in it, and there may not; none will know + Until he gets to bedrock or till bedrock comes to him-- + For Arthur takes it easy and is strictly in the swim. + + It is true, behind his cabin he has sunk a mighty shaft + (When the husky miners saw it they turned aside and laughed); + But Biggs enjoys his bacon, and smokes his pipe and sings, + Content to be enrolled among the great Bonanza Kings. + + 'Tis full three miles from Dawson town to Biggs' little claim; + The miners' curses on the trail would make you blush with shame + The while they slip, or stub their toes against the roots, or sink + Twelve inches in the mud and slime before their eyes can wink. + + But little cared our gallant six for roots, or slime, or mud, + For they were out for liquor as a soldier is for blood; + They hustled through the forest, nor stopped until they saw + Biggs, wrapt in contemplation, beside his cabin door. + + He rose to greet his visitors, and ask them for the news, + And said he was so lonesome that he always had the blues; + He hadn't seen a paper for eighteen months, he said, + And that had been in Japanese--a language worse than dead. + + They satisfied his thirst for news, then thought they of their own, + And Miller looked him in the eye and gave a little groan, + And all six men across their mouths did pass a sun-burnt hand + In a manner most deliberate, which all can understand. + + "We heard you keep a bar, good Biggs," the gentle Poet said! + "And so we thought we'd hold you up, and we are almost dead!" + He said no more. Biggs understood, and thusly spoke to them + In accents somewhat British and prefixed with a "Hem!" + + "The bar you'll find a few yards hence as up that trail you go; + I never keep my liquor in the blooming 'ouse, you know. + Just mush along and take a drink, and when you are content + Come back and tell me, if you can, who now is President." + + They mushed along, those weary men, nor looked to left or right, + But thought of how each cooling drink would trickle out of sight; + And very soon they found the goal they came for from afar-- + _A keg, half full of water, in a good old gravel bar!_ + + + + +THE BACKSLIDING BROTHER + +BY FRANK L. STANTON + + + De screech owl screech f'um de ol' barn lof'; + "You drinked yo' dram sence you done swear off; + En you gwine de way + Whar' de sinners stay, + En Satan gwine ter roas' you at de Jedgmint Day!" + + Den de ol' ha'nt say, f'um de ol' chu'ch wall: + "You des so triflin' dat you _had_ ter fall! + En you gwine de way + Whar' de brimstone stay, + En Satan gwine ter roas' you at de Jedgmint Day!" + + Den I shake en shiver, + En I hunt fer kiver, + En I cry ter de good Lawd, "Please deliver!" + I tell 'im plain + Dat my hopes is vain, + En I drinked my dram fer ter ease my pain! + + Den de screech owl screech f'um de north ter south + "You drinked yo' dram, en you _smacked_ yo' _mouth_! + En you gwine de way + Whar' de brimstone stay, + En Satan gwine ter roas' you at de Jedgmint Day!" + + + + +YE LEGEND OF SIR YRONCLADDE + +BY WILBUR D. NESBIT + + + Now, whenne ye goode knyghte Yroncladde + Hadde dwelte in Paradyse + A matter of a thousand yeares, + He syghed some grievous syghes, + And went unto the entrance gate + To speake hym in thys wyse: + + "Beholde, I do not wysh to make + A rackette, nor a fuss, + And yet I fayne wolde hie awaye + And cease from livyng thus; + For it is moste too peaceful here, + And sore monotonous." + + "Oh, verie welle," ye keeper sayde, + "You shall have your desyre: + Go downe uponne ye earth agayne + To see whatte you admyre-- + But take goode heede that you shall keepe + Your trolley on ye wyre." + + Ryghte gladde was goode Sir Yroncladde + To see ye gates unsealed. + He toke a jumpe strayghte through ye cloudes + To what was there revealed, + And strayghtwaye lit uponne ye grounde + Whych was a footeball field! + + "Gadzookes!" he sayde; "now, here is sporte! + Thys is a goodlie syghte. + For joustynges soche as here abound + I have an appetyte; + So I will amble to ye scrappe, + For that is my delyghte." + + He strode into ye hurtlynge mass, + Whence rose a thrillynge sounde + Of class yelles, sygnalles, breakynge bones, + And moanynges all arounde; + And thenne ye footeballe menne tooke hym + And pushed hym in ye grounde! + + They brake hys breastplayte into bits, + And shattered all hys greaves; + They fractured bothe hys myghtie armes + Withynne hys chaynemayle sleeves, + And wounde hys massyve legges ynto + Some oryentalle weaves. + + Uppe rose ye brave Sir Yroncladde + And groaned, "I hadde no wrong! + I'll hustle back to Paradyse, + And ryng ye entraunce gong; + For thys new croppe of earthlie knyghtes + At joustynge is too strong; + And henceforth thys is my resolve: + To staye where I belong!" + + + + +WINTER DUSK + +BY R. K. MUNKITTRICK + + + The prospect is bare and white, + And the air is crisp and chill; + While the ebon wings of night + Are spread on the distant hill. + + The roar of the stormy sea + Seem the dirges shrill and sharp + That winter plays on the tree-- + His wild AEolian harp. + + In the pool that darkly creeps + In ripples before the gale, + A star like a lily sleeps + And wiggles its silver tail. + + + + +A MOTHER OF FOUR + +BY JULIET WILBOR TOMPKINS + + +"You are fortunate to find us alone, Mrs. Merritt. With four girls, it +is simply terrible--callers underfoot wherever you stir. You must know +something about it, with two daughters; so you can fancy it multiplied +by two. Really, sometimes I get out of all patience--I haven't a corner +of my house to myself on Sundays! But I realize it is the penalty for +having four lively daughters, and I have to put up with it." + +Mrs. Merritt, the visitor, had a gently worried air as she glanced from +the twins, thin and big-boned, reading by the fire, to pretty, affected +Amelie at the tea-table, and the apathetic Enid furtively watching the +front steps from the bay window. Something in her expression seemed to +imply a humble wonder as to what might constitute the elements of high +popularity, since her two dear girls-- + +"Of course, mine have their friends," she asserted; it was an admission +that perhaps the door-bell was not overworked. "I enjoy young life," she +added. + +"Oh, yes, in moderation!" Mrs. Baldwin laughed from the depths of the +complacent prosperity that irradiated her handsome white hair and active +brown eyes, her pleasant rosiness, and even her compact stoutness, +suggesting strength rather than weight. "But since Enid became engaged, +that means Harry all the time--there's my library gone; and with the +other three filling both drawing-rooms and the reception-room, I have +to take to the dining-room, myself! There they begin," she added, as +Enid left the window and slipped out into the hall, closing the door +after her. "Now we shall have no peace until Monday morning. You know +how it is!" + +Mrs. Merritt seemed depressed, and soon took her leave. + +The twins, when they were left alone in the drawing-room, lifted their +heads and exchanged long and solemn looks; then returned to their +reading in silence. When it grew too dark by the fire, they carried +their books to the bay window, but drew back as they saw a pale and puny +youth with a retreating chin coming up the front steps. + +"The rush has begun," murmured Cora. + +"Amelie can have him," Dora returned. "Let's fly." + +They retreated up-stairs and read peacefully until tea-time. The bell +did not ring again. When they came down, Mrs. Baldwin eyed them +irritably. + +"Why don't you ask the Carryl boys in to Sunday tea some time? They will +think you have forgotten them. And Mr. White and that nice Mr. Morton +who lives with him--I am afraid you have offended them in some way. They +used to be here all the time." + +"They only came twice, and those were party calls," said Dora bluntly. + +"My dear, you have forgotten," was the firm answer. "They were here +constantly. I shall send them a line; I don't like to have them think we +have gone back on them." + +"Oh, I--I wouldn't," began Cora, but was put down with decision: + +"When I need your advice, Cora, I will ask for it. Amelie, dear, you +look tired; I am afraid you have had too much gaiety this afternoon." + +"Oh, I love it! It's the breath of life to me," said Amelie +rapturously. The twins again exchanged solemn looks and sat down to +their tea in silence. Mrs. Baldwin attacked them peevishly at intervals; +she was cross at Enid also, who had not kept Harry to supper, and +preserved an indifferent silence under questioning. "When I was your +age--!" was the burden of her speech. + +"I must give a dance for you young people," she decided. "You need +livening up." + +"Oh, lovely!" exclaimed Amelie. + +"We have not had one this winter--I don't know what I have been thinking +about," Mrs. Baldwin went on with returning cheerfulness. "We won't ask +more than a hundred. You must have a new frock, Amelie. Enid, how is +your blue one?" + +"Oh, all right," said Enid indifferently. Mrs. Baldwin turned to the +twins, and found them looking frankly dismayed. + +"Well, what is it now?" she exclaimed. "I am sure I try to give you as +good times as any girls in town; not many mothers on my income would do +half so much. And you sit looking as if you were going to execution!" + +"We--we do appreciate it, mother," urged Cora, unhappily. + +"But we aren't howling successes at parties," Dora added. + +"Nonsense! You have partners to spare." Mrs. Baldwin was plainly angry. +"No child of mine was ever a wallflower, nor ever will be. Never let me +hear you say such a thing again. You would have twice the attention if +you weren't always poking off by yourselves; and as it is, you have more +than most girls. You frighten the men--they think you are proud. Show a +little interest in them and see how pleased they will be!" + +The twins looked dubious, and seized the first chance to escape. In +their own room they confronted each other dismally. + +"Of course they will ask us, in our own house; we won't have to sit and +sit," said Cora with a sigh. + +"But it's almost worse when they ask you for that reason," objected +Dora. + +"I know! I feel so sorry for them, and so apologetic. If mother would +_only_ let us go and teach at Miss Browne's; then we could show we were +really good for something. We shouldn't have to shine at parties." + +"We shouldn't have to go to them! Come on, let's do some Latin. I want +to forget the hateful thing." + +Cora got down the books and drew their chairs up to the student-lamp. "I +know I shouldn't be such a stick if I didn't have to wear low neck," she +said. "I am always thinking about those awful collar-bones, and trying +to hold my shoulders so as not to make them worse." + +"Oh, don't I know!" Dora had slipped on a soft red wrapper, and threw a +blue one to her sister. When they were curled up in their big, cushioned +chairs, they smiled appreciatively at each other. + +"Isn't this nicer than any party ever invented?" they exclaimed. Dora +opened her books with energy, but Cora sat musing. + +"I dare say that somewhere there are parties for our kind," she said, +finally. "Not with silly little chinless boys or popular men who are +always trying to get away, but men who study and care about things--who +go to Greece and dig ruins, for instance, or study sociology, and think +more about one's mind than one's collar-bones." + +Dora shook her head. "But they don't go to parties!" + +"Both Mr. Morton and Mr. White do, sometimes," Cora suggested. "They +aren't like the rest. I thought that tenement-house work they told us +about was most interesting. But they would call if they wanted to," she +added. + +The twins in wrappers, bending over their books, had a certain +comeliness. There was even an austere beauty in their wide, high +foreheads, their fine, straight dark hair, their serious gray eyes and +sensitive mouths, pensive but not without humor and sweetness. But the +twins in evening dress, their unwilling hair flower-crowned and +bolstered into pompadours, their big-boned thinness contrasted with +Amelie's plump curves, their elbows betraying the red disks of serious +application, were quite another matter, and they knew it. The night of +the dance they came down-stairs with solemn, dutiful faces, and lifted +submissive eyes to their mother for judgment. She was looking charmingly +pretty herself, carrying her thick white hair with a humorous boldness, +and her smiling brown eyes were younger than their gray ones. + +"Very well, twinnies! Now you look something like human girls," she said +gaily. "Run and have a beautiful time. Ah, Amelie, you little fairy! +They will all be on their knees to you to-night. Where is Enid?" + +"Nowhere near dressed, and she won't hurry," Amelie explained. "Oh, I am +so excited, I shall die! What if no one asks me to dance!" + +"Silly!" Mrs. Baldwin laughed. "I am only afraid of your dancing +yourself to death. Ah, Mrs. Merritt, how good of you to come with your +dear girls! And Mr. Merritt--this is better than I dared hope." + +The rooms filled rapidly. Enid, after one languid waltz, disappeared +with Harry and was not seen again till supper. Amelie flew from partner +to partner, pouring streams of vivacious talk into patient masculine +ears. The twins were dutifully taken out in turn and unfailingly brought +back. Both Mr. White and Mr. Morton came, serious young men who danced +little, and looked on more as if the affair were a problem in sociology +than an entertainment. There were plenty of men, for Mrs. Baldwin's +entertainments had a reputation in the matter of supper, music, and +floors. + +"After you've worked through the family, you can have a ripping old +time," Cora heard one youth explain to another; a moment later he stood +in front of her, begging the honor of a waltz. She felt no resentment; +her sympathies were all with him. She looked up with gentle seriousness. + +"You needn't, you know," she said. "Dora and I don't really expect +it--we understand." He looked so puzzled that she added: "I overheard +you just now, about 'working through the family.'" + +He grew distressfully red and stammered wildly. Cora came at once to his +rescue. + +"Really, it's all right. We don't like parties, ourselves; only it is +hard on mother to have such sticks of daughters, so we do our best. But +we never mind when people don't ask us. Sometimes we almost wish they +wouldn't." + +The youth was trying desperately to collect himself. "What _do_ you +like, then?" he managed to ask. + +"Oh, books, and the country, and not having to be introduced to people." +She was trying to put him at his ease. "We really do like dancing: we do +it better than you'd think, for mother made us keep at it. If only we +didn't have to have partners and think of things to say to them!" She +held out her hand, "Thank you ever so much for asking me, but I'd truly +rather not." He wrung her hand, muttered something about "later, then," +and fled, still red about the ears. Cora returned to her mother. + +"Well, my dear, you seemed to be having a tremendous flirtation with +that youth," laughed Mrs. Baldwin. "Such a hand-clasp at parting! Don't +dance too hard, child." She turned to the half-dozen parents supporting +her. "These crazy girls of mine will dance themselves to death if I +don't keep an eye on them," she explained. "Amelie says, 'Mother, how +can I help splitting my dances, when they beg me to?' I am always +relieved when the dance is over and they are safe in bed--then I know +they aren't killing themselves. The men have no mercy--they never let +them rest an instant." + +"I don't see Miss Enid about," suggested Mr. Merritt. "I suppose she and +her Harry--!" + +"Oh, I suppose so!" Mrs. Baldwin shook her head resignedly. "The bad +child insists on being married in the spring, but I simply can not face +the idea. What can I do to prevent it, Mrs. Merritt?" + +"I am afraid you can't," smiled Mrs. Merritt. "We mothers all have to +face that." + +"Ah, but not so soon! It is dreadful to have one's girls taken away. I +watch the others like a hawk; the instant a man looks too +serious--pouf!--I whisk him away!" + +Cora stood looking down, with set lips; a flush had risen in her usually +pale cheeks. Dora, setting free an impatient partner, joined her and +they drew aside. + +"It does make me so ashamed!" said Cora, impulsively. + +"I think mother really makes herself believe it," said Dora, with +instant understanding. + +They watched Amelie flutter up to their mother to have a bow retied, and +stand radiant under the raillery, though she made a decent pretense of +pouting. Her partner vanished, and Mrs. Baldwin insisted on her resting +"for one minute," which ended when another partner appeared. + +"Amelie is asked much more than we are, always," Cora suggested. Dora +nodded at the implication. + +"I know. I wonder why it never seems quite real. Perhaps because the +devoted ones are such silly little men." + +"Or seem to us so," Cora amended conscientiously. "Don't you wish we +might creep up-stairs? Oh, me, here comes a man, just hating it! Which +do you suppose he will--Oh, thank you, with pleasure, Mr. Dorr!" Cora +was led away, and Dora slipped into the next room, that her mother might +not be vexed at her partnerless state. + +Mrs. Baldwin saw to it that the twins had partners for supper, and +seated them at a table with half a dozen lively spirits, where they ate +in submissive silence while the talk flowed over and about them. No one +seemed to remember that they were there, yet they felt big and awkward, +conspicuous with neglect, thoroughly forlorn. When they rose, the others +moved off in a group, leaving them stranded. Mrs. Baldwin beckoned them +to her table with her fan. + +"Well, twinnies, yours was the noisiest table in the room," she laughed. +"I was quite ashamed of you! When these quiet girls get going--!" she +added expressively to her group. The twins flushed, standing with shamed +eyes averted. In the rooms above the music had started, and the bright +procession moved up the stairs with laughter and the shine of lights on +white shoulders; they all seemed to belong together, to be glad of one +another. "Well, run along and dance your little feet off," said Mrs. +Baldwin gaily. + +They hurried away, and without a word mounted by the back stairs to +their own room. When their eyes met, a flash of anger kindled, grew to a +blaze. + +"Oh, I won't stand it, I won't!" exclaimed Dora, jerking the wreath of +forget-me-nots out of her hair and throwing it on the dressing-table. +"We have been humiliated long enough. Cora, we're twenty-four; it is +time we had our own way." + +Cora was breathing hard. "Dora, I will never go to another party as long +as I live," she said. + +"Nor I," declared Dora. + +They sat down side by side on the couch to discuss ways and means. A +weight seemed to be lifted off their lives. In the midst of their eager +planning the door opened and Mrs. Baldwin looked in at them with a +displeased frown. + +"Girls, what does this mean?" she exclaimed. "Come down at once. What +are you thinking of, to leave your guests like this!" + +The twins felt that the moment had come, and instinctively clasped hands +as they rose to meet it. + +"Mother," said Dora firmly, "we have done with parties forever and ever. +No one likes us nor wants to dance with us, and we can't stand it any +more." + +"Miss Browne still wants us to come there and teach," Cora added, her +voice husky but her eyes bright. "So we can be self-supporting, if--if +you don't approve. We are twenty-four, and we have to live our own +lives." + +They stood bravely for annihilation. Mrs. Baldwin laughed. + +"You foolish twinnies! I know--some one has been hurting your feelings. +Believe me, my dears, even I did not always get just the partner my +heart was set on! And I cried over it in secret, just like any other +little girl. That is life, you know--we can't give up before it. Now +smooth yourselves and come down, for some of them are leaving." + +She blew them a kiss and went off smiling. After a dejected silence Dora +took up the forget-me-not wreath and replaced it. + +"I suppose we might as well finish out this evening," she said. "But the +revolution has begun, Cora!" + +"The revolution has begun," Cora echoed. + +In the drawing-room they found Mrs. Baldwin talking with Mr. Morton and +Mr. White. They were evidently trying to say good night, but she was +holding them as inexorably as if she had laid hands on their coats; or +so it seemed to the troubled twins. She summoned her daughters with her +bright, amused glance. + +"My dears," she said, "these two good friends were going to run away +just because they do not dance the cotillion. We can't allow that. +Suppose you take them to the library and make them wholly comfortable. +Indeed, they have danced enough, Mr. White; I am thankful to have them +stop. I will take the blame if their partners are angry." + +She nodded a smiling dismissal. Disconcerted, wholly ill at ease, the +four went obediently to the library, deserted now that the cotillion was +beginning. The two men struggled valiantly with the conversation, but +the twins sat stricken to shamed dumbness: no topic could thrive in the +face of their mute rigidity. Silences stalked the failing efforts. Mr. +White's eyes clung to the clock while his throat dilated with secret +yawns; Mr. Morton twisted restlessly and finally let a nervous sigh +escape. Dora suddenly clasped her hands tightly together. + +"We hate it just as much as you do," she said distinctly. + +They turned startled faces toward her. Cora paled, but flew to her +sister's aid. + +"We knew you didn't want to come," she added with tremulous frankness. +"We would have let you off if we could. If you want to go now, we won't +be--hurt." + +They rose, and so did the bewildered visitors. + +"I am afraid you have--misunderstood," began Mr. White. + +"No; we have always understood--everybody," said Dora, "but we pretended +not to, because mother--But now we have done with society. It is a +revolution, and this is our last party. Good night." She held out her +hand. + +"Good night," repeated Cora, offering hers. The guests took them with +the air of culprits; relief was evidently drowned in astonishment. + +"Well, good night--if we must," they said awkwardly. + +Mrs. Baldwin, looking into the library half an hour later, found the +twins sitting there alone. + +"Where are your cavaliers?" she demanded. + +"They left long ago," Dora explained sleepily. "Mayn't we go to bed?" + +"Oh, for pity's sake--go!" was the exasperated answer. + +In the morning the twins appeared braced for revolution. When a +reception for that afternoon was mentioned, they announced firmly that +they were not going. + +"I think you are wise," said Mrs. Baldwin amiably. "You both look +tired." + +They were conscious of disappointment as well as relief; it was the +establishment of a principle they wanted, not coddling. Three weeks went +by in the same debilitating peace. The twins were smiled on and left +wholly free. They had almost come to believe in a bloodless victory, +when Mrs. Baldwin struck--a masterly attack where they were weakest. Her +weapon was--not welcome temper, but restrained pathos. + +"A mere fourteen at dinner and a few coming in to dance afterward, and +I do want you twinnies to be there. Now I have not asked one thing of +you for three weeks; don't you think you owe Mother some little return?" + +"But--!" began the twins, with a rush of the well-known arguments. Mrs. +Baldwin would not combat. + +"I ask it as a favor, dear girls," she said gently. They clung to their +refusal, but were obviously weakening when she rose to her climax: "Mr. +White and Mr. Morton have accepted!" She left them with that, confident +and humming to herself. + +The twins stared at each other in open misery. Reappear now, after the +solemn declaration they had made to those two! Their cheeks burned at +the thought. They mounted to their room to formulate their resistance, +and found two exquisite new gowns, suitable for fairy princesses, spread +out like snares. "To please Mother" seemed to be written on every artful +fold. And Mrs. Baldwin was not a rich woman, for her way of life; such +gowns meant self-denial somewhere. The twins had tears in their eyes. + +"But if we give in now, we're lost!" they cried. + +Nothing more was said about the dinner, Mrs. Baldwin gaily assuming +success, but avoiding the topic. The twins wore a depressed and furtive +air. On the fatal day they had a long interview with Miss Browne, of the +Browne School, and came away solemn with excitement, to shut themselves +in their room for the rest of the afternoon. + +A few minutes before the dinner-hour Mrs. Baldwin, triumphant in satin +and lace, paused at their door. + +"Ready, twinnies?" she began, then stared as though disbelieving her +eyes. In the glow of the student-lamp sat the twins, books in their +hands and piled high on the table beside them; their smooth, dark hair +was unpompadoured, their shoulders were lost in the dark blouses of +every day. + +"What does this mean?" Mrs. Baldwin asked shortly, fire in her eyes. + +"Mother, we told you we could not go to any more parties, and why," Cora +answered, a note of pleading in her voice. + +"We begin teaching on Monday in Miss Browne's school," added Dora more +stoutly. "We have tried your way for years and years, mother. Now we +have to try ours." + +Mrs. Baldwin's lace bertha rose and fell sharply. + +"Indeed. I am sorry to disappoint you, but so long as you live under my +roof, you will have to conform to the ways of my household." + +"Then, mother, we can not stay under your roof." + +"As you please! I leave the choice entirely to you." She swept out, +leaving them breathless but resolute. + +"I am glad of it!" said Dora with trembling lips. + +In explaining their absence at dinner, Mrs. Baldwin was lightly humorous +about the twins' devotion: one could not weather a headache without the +other. Mr. White and Mr. Morton exchanged glances, and showed interest +in the topic, as if they were on the track of some new sociological +fact. + +Later in the evening, the twins, their spirits restored, stole to the +top of the stairs and peered down at the whirling couples, exultant not +to be among them. Mr. White was standing just below, and he glanced up, +as if he might have been listening. His face brightened. + +"May I come up?" he signaled, and mounted two steps at a time, keen +interest in his thin, intellectual face. + +"Is it really headache, or is it revolution?" he asked without preface. +"Morton and I have been longing to know, all the evening." + +"Revolution," said the twins. + +"How very interesting! Do you know, we came to-night just to see if you +would be there. You--you staggered us, the other evening. We were glad +when you didn't appear--if you won't misunderstand. It is so unexpected, +in this environment. I shall be curious to see how far you can carry it +out." He was leaning against the banister, looking at them as if they +were abstract propositions rather than young girls, and they felt +unwontedly at ease. + +"To the very end," Dora asserted. "We begin teaching Monday, and--and we +have to find a place to board." Her color rose a little, but she smiled. + +"That _is_ plucky," he commented. "We can help you there; I know a +number of places. When do you want to move?" + +"To-morrow," they answered in unison. + +He consulted an engagement-book, reflected a few moments, then made a +note. + +"Morton or I will call for you to-morrow at three," he announced with +business-like brevity. "I think I know just the place, but we will give +you a choice. If you really wish to move in at once, you could have your +things packed, ready to be sent for." + +"Oh, we do!" said Cora. He glanced meditatively at their fine and +glowing faces. + +"Of course you won't be comfortable, luxurious, as you are here," he +warned them, with a nod toward the great paneled hall. Mrs. Baldwin +passed the drawing-room door below with the stately tread of a reviewing +officer. + +"Oh, we don't care!" they exclaimed eagerly. + +The next day their mother treated the twins as if they were not. She +spoke no word to them and did not seem to hear their husky little +efforts at reconciliation. They found it hard to remember persistently +that they were revolutionists rather than children in disgrace. She was +unapproachable in her own room when Mr. White and Mr. Morton came for +them. + +"Well, we can't help it," they said sadly as they locked their two +trunks and went down the stairs. + +Three hours later the twins had entered a new world and were rapturously +making an omelet in a kitchen that had begun life as a closet, while Mr. +Morton put up shelves and hooks and Mr. White tacked green burlap over +gloomy wall-paper. Groceries and kitchen utensils and amusing make-shift +furniture kept arriving in exciting profusion. They had not dreamed that +there was such happiness in the world. + +"If only mother will forgive us, it will be simply perfect!" they told +each other when they settled down for the night in their hard little +cots. They said that many times in the days that followed. The utter joy +of work and freedom and simplicity had no other blemish. + +For five weeks Mrs. Baldwin remained obdurate. Then, one Sunday +afternoon, she appeared, cold, critical, resentful still; lifted her +eyebrows at the devices of their light housekeeping; looked disgusted +when they pointed out from the window the little cafe where they +sometimes dined; and offered to consent to their social retirement if +they would give up the teaching and come home. The twins were troubled +and apologetic, but inflexible. They had found the life they were meant +for; they could not give it up. If she knew how happy they were! + +"How, with your bringing up, you can enjoy this!" she marveled. "It +isn't respectable--eating in nasty little holes alone at night!" + +"But it is a nice, clean place, and Mr. White and Mr. Morton are nearly +always with us," Dora began, then broke off at an expression of pleased +enlightenment that flashed across her mother's face. "They are just very +good friends," she explained gravely; "they don't take us as girls at +all--that is why we have such nice times with them. We are simply +comrades, and interested in the same books and problems." + +"And they bother about us chiefly because we are a sort of sociological +demonstration to them," Cora added. "They like experiments of every +kind." + +"Ah, yes, I understand," assented Mrs. Baldwin. "Well, you certainly are +fixed up very nicely here. If you want anything from home, let me know. +After all, it is a piquant little adventure. If you are happy in it, I +suppose I ought not to complain." + +She was all complacence and compliment the rest of her visit. When she +went away, the girls glanced uneasily at each other. + +"She took a wrong idea in her head," said Dora. "I do hope we undeceived +her. It would be hard for her to understand how wholly mental and +impersonal our friendship is with those two." + +"Well, she will see in time, when nothing comes of it," said Cora +confidently. "That's their ring, now. Oh, Dora, isn't our life nice!" + +Mrs. Baldwin, passing down the shabby front steps, might have seen the +two men approaching, one with an armful of books and the other with a +potted plant; but she apparently did not recognize them, for she stepped +into her carriage without a sign. The visit seemed to have left a +pleasant memory with her, however; her bland serenity, as she drove +away, was not unlike that of the cat which has just swallowed the +canary. + + + + +FALL STYLES IN FACES[5] + +BY WALLACE IRWIN + + + Faces this Fall will lead the styles + More than in former years + With something very neat in smiles + Well trimmed with eyes and ears. + The Gayer Set, so rumor hints, + Will have their noses made + In all the famous Highball Tints-- + A bright carnation shade. + + For morning wear in club and lobby, + The Dark Brown Taste will be the hobby. + + In Wall Street they will wear a gaze + To match the paving-stones. + (This kind, Miss Ida Tarbell says, + John Rockefeller owns.) + Loud mouths, sharp glances, furtive looks + Will be displayed upon + The faces of the best-groomed crooks + Convened in Washington. + + Among the Saints of doubtful morals + Some will wear halos, others laurels. + + Checkered careers will be displayed + On faces neatly lined, + And vanity will still parade + In smirks--the cheaper kind. + Chins will appear in Utah's zone + Adorned with lace-like frizzes, + And something striking will be shown + In union-labor phizzes. + + The gentry who have done the races + Show something new in Poker Faces. + + Cheek will supplant Stiff Upper Lips + And take the place of Chin; + The waiters will wear ostrich tips + When tipping days begin. + The Wilhelm Moustache, curled with scorn, + Will show the jaw beneath, + And the Roosevelt Smile will still be worn + Cut wide around the teeth. + + If Frenzied Finance waxes stronger + Stocks will be "short" and faces longer. + + But if you have a well-made face + That's durable and firm, + Its features you need not replace-- + 'Twill wear another term. + Two eyes, a nose, a pair of ears, + A chin that's clean and strong + Will serve their owner many years + And never go far wrong. + + But if your face is shoddy, Brother, + Run to the store and buy another! + +FOOTNOTES: + +[5] From "At the Sign of the Dollar," by Wallace Irwin. Copyright, 1905, +by Fox, Duffield & Co. + + + + +HAD A SET OF DOUBLE TEETH + +BY HOLMAN F. DAY + + + Oh, listen while I tell you a truthful little tale + Of a man whose teeth were double all the solid way around; + He could jest as slick as preachin' bite in two a shingle-nail, + Or squonch a molded bullet, sah, and ev'ry tooth was sound. + + I've seen him lift a keg of pork, a-bitin' on the chine, + And he'd clench a rope and hang there like a puppy to a root; + And a feller he could pull and twitch and yank up on the line, + But he couldn't do no business with that double-toothed galoot. + + He was luggin' up some shingles,--bunch, sah, underneath each arm,-- + The time that he was shinglin' of the Baptist meetin'-house; + The ladder cracked and buckled, but he didn't think no harm, + When all at once she busted, and he started down kersouse. + + His head, sah, when she busted, it was jest abreast the eaves; + And he nipped, sah, quicker 'n lightnin', and he gripped there with + his teeth, + And he never dropped the shingles, but he hung to both the sheaves, + Though the solid ground was suttenly more 'n thirty feet beneath. + + He held there and he kicked there and he squirmed, but no one come; + He was workin' on the roof alone--there war'n't no folks around-- + He hung like death to niggers till his jaw was set and numb, + And he reely thought he'd have to drop them shingles on the ground. + + But all at once old Skillins come a-toddlin' down the street; + Old Skil is sort of hump-backed, and he allus looks straight down; + So he never seed the motions of them number 'leven feet, + And he went a-amblin' by him--the goramded blind old clown! + + Now this ere part is truthful--ain't a-stretchin' it a mite,-- + When the feller seed that Skillins was a-walkin' past the place, + Let go his teeth and hollered, but he grabbed back quick and tight, + 'Fore he had a chance to tumble, and he hung there by the face. + + And he never dropped the shingles, and he never missed his grip, + And he stepped out on the ladder when they raised it underneath; + And up he went a-flukin' with them shingles on his hip, + And there's the satisfaction of a havin' double teeth. + + + + +PLAIN LANGUAGE FROM TRUTHFUL JAMES + +BY BRET HARTE + + + Which I wish to remark-- + And my language is plain-- + That for ways that are dark, + And for tricks that are vain, + The heathen Chinee is peculiar, + Which the same I would rise to explain. + + Ah Sin was his name, + And I shall not deny + In regard to the same + What that name might imply; + But his smile it was pensive and childlike, + As I frequent remarked to Bill Nye. + + It was August the third, + And quite soft was the skies; + Which it might be inferred + That Ah Sin was likewise; + Yet he played it that day upon William + And me in a way I despise. + + Which we had a small game, + And Ah Sin took a hand; + It was euchre--the same + He did not understand; + But he smiled as he sat at the table + With the smile that was childlike and bland. + + Yet the cards they were stocked + In a way that I grieve, + And my feelings were shocked + At the state of Nye's sleeve, + Which was stuffed full of aces and bowers, + And the same with intent to deceive. + + But the hands that were played + By that heathen Chinee, + And the points that he made + Were quite frightful to see, + Till at last he put down a right bower, + Which the same Nye had dealt unto me. + + Then I looked up at Nye, + And he gazed upon me; + And he rose with a sigh, + And said, "Can this be? + We are ruined by Chinese cheap labor;" + And he went for that heathen Chinee. + + In the scene that ensued + I did not take a hand, + But the floor it was strewed + Like the leaves on the strand + With the cards that Ah Sin had been hiding + In the game "he did not understand." + + In his sleeves, which were long, + He had twenty-four packs, + Which was coming it strong, + Yet I state but the facts; + And we found on his nails, which were taper, + What is frequent in tapers--that's wax. + + Which is why I remark-- + And my language is plain-- + That for ways that are dark, + And for tricks that are vain, + The heathen Chinee is peculiar, + Which the same I am free to maintain. + + + + +POSSESSION + +BY WILLIAM J. LAMPTON + + + Oh, give me whatever I do not possess, + No matter whatever it be; + So long as I haven't it that is enough, + I fancy, to satisfy me. + + No matter whatever I happen to have, + I have it; and what I have not + Seems all that is good of the good things of earth + To lighten the lack of my lot. + + No covetous spirit incites the desire + To have what I haven't, I'm sure; + Because when I have what I haven't, I want + What I haven't, the same as before. + + So, give me whatever I do not possess, + No matter whatever it be; + And yet-- + To have what I haven't is having, and that + Destroys all the pleasure for me. + + + + +HER BROTHER: ENFANT TERRIBLE[6] + +BY EDWIN L. SABIN + + + This is Her brother; angel-faced,-- + Barring freckles and turned-up nose,-- + Demon-minded--a word well based, + As nearer acquaintance will disclose. + From outward guise the most sage of men + Would never guess what within lies hid! + If years we reckon, in age scant ten; + If cunning, old as a pyramid. + + This is Her brother, who sticks and sticks + Tighter than even a brother should; + Brimming over with teasing tricks, + Hardened to bribe and "_please_ be good"; + And who, when at last afar we deem, + In some sly recess but lurks in wait + To note the progress of love's young dream-- + And we learn of his presence too late, too late! + + This is Her brother, with watchful eyes, + Piercing, shameless, and indiscreet, + With ears wide open for soft replies + And sounds that are sibilant and sweet! + With light approach (not a lynx so still), + With figure meanly invisible, + With threatening voice and iron will, + And shrill demands or he'll "go and tell!" + + This is Her brother--and I submit + To paying out quarters and sundry dimes; + This is Her brother--whose urchin wit + Moves me to wrath a thousand times; + This is Her brother--and hence I smile + And jest and cringe at his tyranny, + And call him "smart"! But just wait a while + Till he's _my_ brother--and then we'll see! + +FOOTNOTES: + +[6] Lippincott's Magazine. + + + + +THE JACKPOT + +BY IRONQUILL + + + I sauntered down through Europe, + I wandered up the Nile, + I sought the mausoleums where the mummied Pharaohs lay; + I found the sculptured tunnel + Where quietly in style + Imperial sarcophagi concealed the royal clay. + Above the vault was graven deep the motto of the crown: + "Who openeth a jackpot may not always rake it down." + + It's strange what deep impressions + Are made by little things. + Within the granite tunneling I saw a dingy cleft; + It was a cryptic chamber. + I drew, and got four kings. + But on a brief comparison I laid them down and left, + Because upon the granite stood that sentence bold and brown: + "Who openeth a jackpot may not always rake it down." + + I make this observation: + A man with such a hand + Has psychologic feelings that perhaps he should not feel, + But I was somewhat rattled + And in a foreign land, + And had some dim suspicions, as I had not watched the deal. + And there was that inscription, too, in words that seemed to frown: + "Who openeth a jackpot may not always rake it down." + + These letters were not graven + In Anglo-Saxon tongue; + Perhaps if you had seen them you had idly passed them by. + I studied erudition + When I was somewhat young; + I recognized the language when it struck my classic eye; + I saw a maxim suitable for monarch or for clown: + "Who openeth a jackpot may not always rake it down." + + Detesting metaphysics, + I can not help but put + A philosophic moral where I think it ought to hang; + I've seen a "boom" for office + Grow feeble at the root, + Then change into a boomlet--then to a boomerang. + In caucus or convention, in village or in town: + "Who openeth a jackpot may not always rake it down." + + + + +DUM VIVIMUS VIGILAMUS + +BY JOHN PAUL + + + Turn out more ale, turn up the light; + I will not go to bed to-night. + Of all the foes that man should dread + The first and worst one is a bed. + Friends I have had both old and young, + And ale we drank and songs we sung: + Enough you know when this is said, + That, one and all,--they died in bed. + In bed they died and I'll not go + Where all my friends have perished so. + Go you who glad would buried be, + But not to-night a bed for me. + + For me to-night no bed prepare, + But set me out my oaken chair. + And bid no other guests beside + The ghosts that shall around me glide; + In curling smoke-wreaths I shall see + A fair and gentle company. + Though silent all, rare revelers they, + Who leave you not till break of day. + Go you who would not daylight see, + But not to-night a bed for me: + For I've been born and I've been wed-- + All of man's peril comes of bed. + + And I'll not seek--whate'er befall-- + Him who unbidden comes to all. + A grewsome guest, a lean-jawed wight-- + God send he do not come to-night! + But if he do, to claim his own, + He shall not find me lying prone; + But blithely, bravely, sitting up, + And raising high the stirrup-cup. + Then if you find a pipe unfilled, + An empty chair, the brown ale spilled; + Well may you know, though naught be said, + That I've been borne away to bed. + + + + +AT AUNTY'S HOUSE + +BY JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY + + + One time, when we'z at Aunty's house-- + 'Way in the country!--where + They's ist but woods--an' pigs, an' cows-- + An' all's out-doors an' air!-- + An' orchurd-swing; an' churry-trees-- + An' _churries_ in 'em!--Yes, an' these- + Here red-head birds steals all they please, + An' tetch 'em ef you dare!-- + W'y, wunst, one time, when we wuz there, + _We et out on the porch_! + + Wite where the cellar-door wuz shut + The table wuz; an' I + Let Aunty set by me an' cut + My vittuls up--an' pie. + 'Tuz awful funny!--I could see + The red-heads in the churry-tree; + An' bee-hives, where you got to be + So keerful, goin' by;-- + An' "Comp'ny" there an' all!--an' we-- + _We et out on the porch_! + + An' I ist et _p'surves_ an' things + 'At Ma don't 'low me to-- + An' _chickun-gizzurds_--(don't like _wings_ + Like _Parunts_ does! do _you_?) + + An' all the time, the wind blowed there, + An' I could feel it in my hair, + An' ist smell clover _ever'_where!-- + An' a' old red-head flew + Purt' nigh wite over my high-chair, + _When we et on the porch_! + + + + +WILLY AND THE LADY + +BY GELETT BURGESS + + + Leave the lady, Willy, let the racket rip, + She is going to fool you, you have lost your grip, + Your brain is in a muddle and your heart is in a whirl, + Come along with me, Willy, never mind the girl! + + Come and have a man-talk; + Come with those who _can_ talk; + Light your pipe and listen, and the boys will see you through; + Love is only chatter, + Friends are all that matter; + Come and talk the man-talk; that's the cure for you! + + Leave the lady, Willy, let her letter wait, + You'll forget your troubles when you get it straight, + The world is full of women, and the women full of wile; + Come along with me, Willy, we can make you smile! + + Come and have a man-talk, + A rousing black-and-tan talk, + There are plenty there to teach you; there's a lot for you to do; + Your head must stop its whirling + Before you go a-girling; + Come and talk the man-talk; that's the cure for you + + Leave the lady, Willy, the night is good and long, + Time for beer and 'baccy, time to have a song; + Where the smoke is swirling, sorrow if you can-- + Come along with me, Willy, come and be a man! + + Come and have a man-talk, + Come with those who _can_ talk, + Light your pipe and listen, and the boys will see you through; + Love is only chatter, + Friends are all that matter; + Come and talk the man-talk; that's the cure for you! + + Leave the lady, Willy, you are rather young; + When the tales are over, when the songs are sung, + When the men have made you, try the girl again; + Come along with me, Willy, you'll be better then! + + Come and have a man-talk, + Forget your girl-divan talk; + You've got to get acquainted with another point of view! + Girls will only fool you; + We're the ones to school you; + Come and talk the man-talk; that's the cure for you! + + + + +A NEW YEAR IDYL + +BY EUGENE FIELD + + + Upon this happy New Year night, + A roach crawls up my pot of paste, + And begs me for a tiny taste. + Aye, eat thy fill, for it is right + That while the rest of earth is glad, + And bells are ringing wild and free, + Thou shouldst not, gentle roachling, be + Forlorn and gaunt and weak and sad. + + This paste to-night especially + For thee and all thy kind I fixed, + You'll find some whiskey in it mixed, + For which you have to thank but me. + So freely of the banquet take, + And if you chance to find a drop + Of liquor, prithee do not stop + But quaff it for thy stomach's sake. + + Why dost thou stand upon thy head, + All etiquette requirements scorning, + And sing "You won't go home till morning" + And "Put me in my little bed"? + Your tongue, fair roach, is very thick, + Your eyes are red, your cheeks are pale, + Your underpinning seems to fail, + You are, I wot, full as a tick. + + +ENVOI + + I think I see that roach's home, + That roach's wife, with broom in hand, + That roach come staggering homeward and + Then all is glum and gloom and gloam. + + + + +A LAY OF ANCIENT ROME + +BY THOMAS YBARRA + + + Oh! the Roman was a rogue, + He erat, was, you bettum; + He ran his automobilis + And smoked his cigarettum; + He wore a diamond studibus, + An elegant cravattum, + A maxima cum laude shirt, + And _such_ a stylish hattum! + + He loved the luscious hic-haec-hock, + And bet on games and equi; + At times he won; at others, though, + He got it in the nequi; + He winked (quo usque tandem?) + At puellas on the Forum, + And sometimes even made + Those goo-goo oculorum! + + He frequently was seen + At combats gladiatorial, + And ate enough to feed + Ten boarders at Memorial; + He often went on sprees + And said, on starting homus, + "Hic labor--opus est, + Oh, where's my hic--hic--domus?" + + Although he lived in Rome-- + Of all the arts the middle-- + He was (excuse the phrase) + A horrid individ'l; + Ah! what a diff'rent thing + Was the homo (dative, hominy) + Of far-away B. C. + From us of Anno Domini. + + + + +LITTLE BOPEEP AND LITTLE BOY BLUE + +BY SAMUEL MINTURN PECK + + + It happened one morning that Little Bopeep, + While watching her frolicsome, mischievous sheep + Out in the meadow, fell fast asleep. + + By her wind-blown tresses and rose-leaf pout, + And her dimpling smile, you'd have guessed, no doubt, + 'Twas love, love, love she was dreaming about. + + As she lay there asleep, came little Boy Blue, + Right over the stile where the daisies grew; + Entranced by the picture, he stopped in the dew. + + So wildly bewitching that beautiful morn + Was Little Bopeep that he dropped his horn + And thought no more of the cows in the corn. + + Our sorrows are many, our pleasures are few; + O moment propitious! What could a man do? + He kissed the wee lassie, that Little Boy Blue! + + At the smack the woolies stood all in a row, + And whispered each other, "We're clearly _de trop_; + Such conduct is perfectly shocking--let's go!" + + + + +"FESTINA LENTE" + +BY ROBERT J. BURDETTE + + + Blessings on thee, little man, + Hasten slowly as you can; + Loiter nimbly on your tramp + With the ten-cent speedy stamp. + Thou art "boss"; the business man + Postals writes for thee to scan; + And the man who writes, "With speed," + Gets it--in his mind--indeed. + + Lo, the man who penned the note + Wasted ten cents when he wrote; + And the maid for it will wait + At the window, by the gate, + In the doorway, down the street, + List'ning for thy footsteps fleet. + But her cheek will flush and pale, + Till it comes next day by mail, + With thine own indorsement neat-- + "No such number on the street." + Oh, if words could but destroy, + Thou wouldst perish, truthful boy! + + Oh, for boyhood's easy way-- + Messenger who sleeps all day, + Or, from rise to set of sun, + Reads "The Terror" on the run. + + For your sport, the band goes by; + For your perch, the lamp post high; + For your pleasure, on the street + Dogs are fighting, drums are beat; + For your sake, the boyish fray, + Organ grinder, run-away; + Trucks for your convenience are; + For your ease, the bob-tail car; + Every time and everywhere + You're not wanted, you are there. + Dawdling, whistling, loit'ring scamp, + Seest thou this ten-cent stamp? + Stay thou not for book or toy-- + Vamos! Fly! Skedaddle, boy! + + + + +THE GENIAL IDIOT DISCUSSES LEAP YEAR + +BY JOHN KENDRICK BANGS + + +"If I were a woman," said the Idiot, "I think that unless I had an +affidavit from the man, sworn to before a notary and duly signed and +sealed, stating that he did the proposing, I should decline to marry, or +announce my engagement to be married in Leap Year. It is one of the +drawbacks which the special privilege of Leap Year confers upon women +that it puts them under suspicion of having done the courting if the +thing comes out during the year." + +"Don't you worry about that," laughed Mrs. Pedagog. "You can go through +this country with a fine tooth comb and I'll wager you you won't find a +woman anywhere who avails herself of the privilege who wouldn't have +done the same thing in any old year if she wanted to. Of all the funny +old superstitions, the quaintest of the lot is that Leap Year proposal +business." + +"How you talk," cried the Idiot. "Such iconoclasm. I had always supposed +that Leap Year was a sort of matrimonial safety valve for old maids, and +here in a trice you overthrow all the cherished notions of a lifetime. +Why, Mrs. Pedagog, I know men who take to the woods every Leap Year just +to escape the possibilities." + +"Courageous souls," said the landlady. "Facing the unknown perils of the +forest, rather than manfully meeting a proposal of marriage." + +"It is hard to say no to a woman," said the Idiot. "I'd hate like time +to have one of 'em come to me and ask me to be hers. Just imagine it. +Some dainty little damsel of a soulful nature, with deep blue eyes, and +golden curls, and pearly teeth, and cherry lips, a cheek like the soft +and ripening peach and a smile that would bewitch even a Saint Anthony, +getting down on her knees and saying, 'O Idiot--dearest Idiot--be +mine--I love you, devotedly, tenderly, all through the Roget's +Thesaurusly, and have from the moment I first saw you. With you to share +it my lot in life will be heaven itself. Without you a Saharan waste of +Arctic frigidity. Wilt thou?' I think I'd wilt. I couldn't bring myself +to say 'No, Ethelinda, I can not be yours because my heart is set on a +strengthful damsel with raven locks and eyes of coal, with lips a shade +less cherry than thine, and a cheek more like the apple than the peach, +who can go out on the links and play golf with me. But if you ever need +a brother in your business I am the floor-walker that will direct you to +the bargain-counter where you'll find the latest thing in brothers at +cost.' I'd simply cave in on the instant and say, 'All right, Ethelinda, +call a cab and we'll trot around to the Little Church Around the Corner +and tie the knot; that is, my love, if you think you can support me in +the style to which I am accustomed." + +Mr. Brief laughed. "I wouldn't bother if I were you, Mr. Idiot," said +he. "Women don't tie up very strongly to Idiots." + +"Oh don't they," retorted the Idiot. "Well, do you know I had a sort of +notion that they did. The men that some of the nice girls I have known +in my day have tied up to have somehow or other given me the impression +that a woman has a special leaning toward Idiots. There was my old +sweetheart, Sallie Wiggins, for instance--that wasn't her real name, of +course, but she was one of the finest girls that ever attended a +bargain sale. She had a mind far above the ordinary. She could read +Schopenhauer at sight; understand Browning in a minute; her soul was as +big as her heart and her heart was two and a half sizes larger than the +universe. She was so strong-minded that although she could write poetry +she wouldn't, and in the last year of her single blessedness she was the +Queen-pin among the girls of her set. What she said was law, and +emancipation of her sex was her only vice. Well, what do you think +happened to Sallie Wiggins? After refusing every fine man in town, +including myself,--I must say I only asked her five times; no telling +what a sixth would have brought forth--she succumbed to the +blandishments of the first sapheaded young Lochinvar that came out of +the west, married him, and is now the smiling mother of nine children, +does all the family sewing, makes her own parlor bric-a-brac out of the +discarded utensils of the kitchen, dresses herself on ninety dollars a +decade, and is happy." + +"But if she loved him--" began the Lawyer. + +"Impossible," said the Idiot. "She pitied him. She knew that if she +didn't marry him, and take charge of him, another woman would, and that +the chances were ten to one that the other woman wouldn't do the thing +right and that Saphead's life would be ruined forever." + +"But you say she is happy," persisted the Lawyer. + +"Certainly she is," said the Idiot. "Because her life is an eternal +sacrifice to Saphead's needs, and if there is a luxury in this mundane +sphere that woman essentially craves it is the luxury of sacrifice. +There is something fanatic about it. Sallie Wiggins voluntarily turned +her back on seven men that I know of, one of whom is a Governor of his +state; two of whom are now in Congress; one of whom is a judge of a +state court; two of whom have become millionaire merchants; and the +seventh of whom is to-day, probably, the most brilliant ornament of the +penitentiary. Everyone of 'em turned down for Saphead, a man who parted +his hair in the middle, couldn't earn seven dollars a century on his +wits, is destined to remain hopelessly nothing, keeps her busy sewing +buttons on his clothes, and to save his life couldn't tell the +difference between Matthew Arnold and an automobile, and yet you tell me +that women don't care for idiots." + +"Miss Wiggins--or Mrs. Saphead, to be more precise," said Mr. Brief, "is +only one instance." + +"Well--there was Margaret Perkins--same town--same experience," +said the Idiot. "Lovely girl--sought after by everybody--proposed +to her myself five times--President of the Mental Culture Society +of Baggville--graduate of Smythe--woman-member of Board of +Education--Director of Young Girls' Institute--danced like a dream--had +a sense of humor--laughed at my jokes--and married--what?" + +"Well, what?" demanded the Lawyer. + +"Prof. Omega Nit Zero, teacher of Cingalese in the University of +Oklawaha, founded by a millionaire from Geneseo, New Jersey, who owned a +hotel on the Oklawaha River that didn't pay, and hoped to brace up a bad +investment by the establishment in the vicinity of a centre of culture. +Prof. Zero receives ten dollars a week, and with his wife and three +pupils constitutes the whole faculty, board of trustees, janitor, and +student body of the University," said the Idiot. "Mrs. Zero dresses on +nothing a year; cares for her five children on the same basis, and is +happy. They are the principal patrons of the Oklawaha Hotel." + +"Well--if she is happy?" said the Bibliomaniac. "What business is it of +anybody else? I think if Prof. Zero makes her happy he's the right kind +of a man." + +"You couldn't make Zero the right kind of a man," said the Idiot. "He +isn't built that way. He wears men's clothes and he has sweet manners, +and a dulcet voice, and the learning of the serpent; but when it comes +to manhood he has the initiative of the turtle, lacking the cash value +of the terrapin, or the turtle's mock brother; he wears a beard, but it +is the beard of the bearded lady who up-to-date appears to be a useless +appanage of the strenuous life; and when you try to get at his +Americanism, if he has any, he flies off into stilted periods having to +do with the superior virtues of the Cingalese. And Margaret Perkins that +was hangs on his utterances as though he were a very archangel." + +"Good," ejaculated Mr. Brief. "I am glad to hear that she is happy." + +"So am I," said the Idiot. "But such happiness." + +"Well, what's it all got to do with Leap Year, anyhow?" asked the +Bibliomaniac. + +"Nothing at all, except that it proves that girls aren't fitted really +to choose their own husbands, and that therefore the special privilege +conferred upon them by the recurrence of Leap Year should be rescinded +by law," said the Idiot. "That privilege, owing to woman's incapacity to +choose correctly, and man's weakness in the use of negatives, is a +standing menace to the future happiness of the people." + +"Hoity-toity," cried Mrs. Pedagog. "What a proposition. Tell me, Mr. +Idiot, if a woman is not capable of selecting her own husband, who on +earth is? Man himself--that embodiment of all the wisdom and all the +sagacity of the ages?" + +"I didn't say so," said the Idiot. "And I don't really think so," he +added. "The whole institution of getting engaged to be married should be +regulated by the public authorities. Every county should have its +Matrimonial Bureau, whose duty it should be to pair off all the eligible +candidates in the matrimonial market, and in pairing them off it should +be done on a basis of mutual fitness. Bachelors and old maids should be +legislated out of existence, and nobody should be allowed to marry a +second time until everybody else had been provided for. It is perfectly +scandalous to me to read in the newspapers that a prominent widow in a +certain town has married her third husband, when it is known that that +same city contains 25,000 old maids who haven't the ghost of a show +unless the State steps in and helps them out. What business has any +woman to work up a corner in husbands, with so many of her sisters +absolutely starving matrimonially?" + +"And the young people are to have nothing to say about it, eh?" asked +Mr. Brief. + +"Oh yes--they can put in an application to the Bureau stating that they +want to wed, and the Board of Managers can consider the desirability of +issuing a permit," said the Idiot. "And they should be compelled to show +cause why they should not be restrained from getting married. It is only +in such a way that the state can reasonably guarantee the permanence of +a contract to which it is in a sense a party. The State, by the +establishment of certain laws, demands that the marriage contract shall +practically be a life affair. It should therefore take it upon itself to +see to it that there is a tolerable prospect at least that the contract +is a just one. Many a poor woman has been bound to a life-long +obligation of misery in which no consideration whatever has been paid by +the party of the second part. If a contract without consideration will +not stand in commerce, why should it in matrimony?" + +"What you ought to go in for is Mormonism," snapped Mrs. Pedagog. "Keep +on getting married until you've found just the right one and then get +rid of all the others." + +"That is a pleasing alternative," said the Idiot. "But expensive. I'd +hate to pay a milliner's bill for a Mormon household--but anyhow we +needn't grow acrimonious over the subject, for whatever I may think of +matrimony as she exists to-day, all the injustices, inequalities, +miseries of it, and all that, I prefer it to acrimony, and I haven't the +slightest idea that my dream of perfect conditions will ever be +realized. Only, Mary--" + +"Yessir?" said the Maid. + +"If between this and the first of January, 1905, any young ladies, or +old ones either, call here and ask for me--" + +"Yessir," said the Maid. + +"Tell 'em I've gone to Nidjni-Novgorod and am not expected back for +eleven years," said the Idiot. "I'm not going to take any chances." + + + + +COMPLETE INDEX + +ALPHABETICALLY ARRANGED BY AUTHORS + + + ADAMS, CHARLES FOLLEN + Bary Jade, To, 1899 + Der Oak und der Vine, 1823 + Shonny Schwartz, 1206 + Yawcob Strauss, 370 + + ADE, GEORGE + Hon. Ransom Peabody, 1429 + + ADELER, MAX (see CHARLES HEBER CLARK) + + ALDRICH, THOMAS BAILEY + Our New Neighbors at Ponkapog, 403 + + ALLEN, NINA R. + Women and Bargains, 1352 + + AMSBARY, WALLACE BRUCE + Anatole Dubois at de Horse Show, 152 + De Gradual Commence, 1164 + Oncl' Antoine on 'Change, 1891 + Rubaiyat of Mathieu Lettellier, 1965 + Tim Flanagan's Mistake, 1673 + Verre Definite, 1183 + + ANONYMOUS + Book-Canvasser, The, 1113 + Country School, The, 1734 + Merchant and the Book-Agent, The, 1124 + + APPLETON, JACK + Modern Farmer, The, 1083 + + ARP, BILL (see CHARLES H. SMITH) + + + BAGBY, GEORGE W. + How "Ruby" Played, 311 + + BAILEY, JAMES MONTGOMERY ("The Danbury News Man") + After the Funeral, 1146 + Mr. Stiver's Horse, 464 + + BALDWIN, JOSEPH G. + Assault and Battery, 1391 + + BANGS, JOHN KENDRICK + By Bay and Sea, 1367 + Genial Idiot Discusses Leap Year, The, 2018 + Genial Idiot Discusses the Music Cure, The, 1105 + Genial Idiot Suggests a Comic Opera, The, 504 + Gentle Art of Boosting, The, 1575 + University Intelligence Office, The, 1727 + + BATCHELDER, FRANK ROE + Happy Land, The, 1389 + Wicked Zebra, The, 1322 + + BAXTER, BILLY (see WILLIAM J. KOUNTZ, JR.) + + BECKER, CHARLOTTE + Modern Advantage, A, 642 + + BEDOTT, WIDOW (see FRANCES M. WHICHER) + + BEECHER, HENRY WARD + Deacon's Trout, The, 212 + Organ, The, 217 + + BELDEN, J. V. Z. + A Committee from Kelly's, 929 + + BILLINGS, JOSH (see HENRY W. SHAW) + + BOYNTON, H. W. + The Golfer's Rubaiyat, 319 + + BRIDGES, MADELINE + A Mothers' Meeting, 1886 + + BROWNE, CHARLES FARRAR ("Artemus Ward") + Tower of London, The, 528 + Uncle Simon and Uncle Jim, 539 + + BRYANT, WILLIAM CULLEN + The Mosquito, 1199 + + BURDETTE, ROBERT J. + Archaeological Congress, An, 390 + Brakeman at Church, The, 1323 + Day We Do Not Celebrate, The, 134 + "Festina Lente", 2016 + Margins, 1297 + My First Cigar, 1204 + Plaint of Jonah, The, 485 + Rollo Learning to Play, 912 + Rollo Learning to Read, 448 + Soldier, Rest, 1796 + Songs Without Words, 1261 + Strike at Hinman's, The, 342 + What Lack We Yet, 1897 + + BURGESS, GELETT + Bohemians of Boston, The, 519 + Nonsense Verses, 1244 + Purple Cow, The, 13 + Vive la Bagatelle, 280 + Willy and the Lady, 2009 + + BUTLER, ELLIS PARKER + The Crimson Cord, 470 + + BUTLER, WILLIAM ALLEN + Nothing to Wear, 1435 + + + CARLETON, HENRY GUY + The Thompson Street Poker Club, 1140 + + CARMAN, BLISS + Modern Eclogue, A, 645 + In Philistia, 567 + Sceptics, The, 1626 + Spring Feeling, A, 1129 + Staccato to O Le Lupe, A, 1499 + + CARRUTH, HAYDEN + Familiar Authors at Work, 289 + Uncle Bentley and the Roosters, 1873 + + CARRYL, CHARLES E. + Nautical Ballad, A, 348 + + CARY, PHOEBE + "Day Is Done, The", 1628 + I Remember, I Remember, 652 + Jacob, 1898 + Marriage of Sir John Smith, The, 803 + Psalm of Life, A, 207 + Samuel Brown, 259 + "There's a Bower of Bean-Vines", 1916 + When Lovely Woman, 1834 + + CHALLING, JOHN + Rhyme for Christmas, A, 1290 + + CHAMBERS, ROBERT W. + Recruit, The, 230 + + CHESTER, GEORGE RANDOLPH + Especially Men, 937 + + CLARK, CHARLES HEBER ("Max Adeler") + Millionaires, The, 1675 + + CLARKE, JOSEPH I. C. + Fighting Race, The, 214 + + CLEMENS, SAMUEL L. + Evidence in the Case of Smith vs. Jones, The, 1918 + Great Prize Fight, The, 1903 + Nevada Sketches, 1805 + + CONE, HELEN AVERY + Spring Beauties, The, 805 + + COOKE, EDMUND VANCE + Daniel Come to Judgment, A, 1399 + Final Choice, The, 1427 + + CORTISSOZ, ELLEN MACKAY HUTCHINSON + Praise-God Barebones, 765 + + COX, KENYON + Bumblebeaver, The, 1145 + Octopussycat, The, 1112 + Paintermine, The, 1100 + Welsh Rabbittern, The, 1120 + Wild Boarder, The, 1163 + + COZZENS, FREDERICK S. + Family Horse, The, 715 + + CRANE, FRANK + Wamsley's Automatic Pastor, 511 + + CRAYON, PORTE (see B. F. STROTHER) + Culbertson, Anne Virginia + Comin' Thu, 333 + Go Lightly, Gal (The Cake-Walk), 317 + How Mr. Terrapin Lost His Beard, 1328 + How Mr. Terrapin Lost His Plumage and Whistle, 1360 + Mr. Hare Tries to Get a Wife, 921 + Quit Yo' Worryin, 934 + Whar Dem Sinful Apples Grow, 903 + Why Moles Have Hands, 202 + Woman Who Married an Owl, The, 838 + + CURTIS, GEORGE WILLIAM + Our Best Society, 233 + + CUTTING, MARY STEWART + Not According to Schedule, 1448 + + + DALE, ALAN + Wanted--A Cook, 35 + + DAVIES, JOHN JAMES + Ballade of the "How To" Books, A, 416 + + DAY, HOLMAN F. + Had a Set of Double Teeth, 1994 + When the Allegash Drive Goes Through, 1214 + + DERBY, GEORGE H. ("John Phoenix") + Lectures on Astronomy, 847 + Musical Review Extraordinary, 824 + + DEVERE, WILLIAM + Walk, 300 + + DODGE, MARY ABIGAIL ("Gail Hamilton") + Complaint of Friends, A, 604 + + DOOLEY, MR. (see FINLEY PETER DUNNE) + + DOWNING, MAJOR JACK (see SEBA SMITH) + + DRUMMOND, WILLIAM HENRY + De Stove Pipe Hole, 774 + Natural Philosophy, 1722 + When Albani Sang, 92 + + DUNNE, FINLEY PETER ("Mr. Dooley") + Mr. Dooley on Expert Testimony, 844 + Mr. Dooley on the Game of Football, 1059 + Mr. Dooley on Gold-Seeking, 304 + Mr. Dooley on Golf, 1630 + Mr. Dooley on Reform Candidates, 321 + + + EGGLESTON, EDWARD + Spelling Down the Master, 138 + + EMERSON, RALPH WALDO + Fable, 1358 + + + FIELD, EUGENE + Advertiser, The, 1101 + James and Reginald, 1171 + Lost Chords, 1080 + New Year Idyl, A, 2011 + Story of the Two Friars, The, 588 + Utah, 1305 + Warrior, The, 1708 + Winter Joys, 1868 + + FIELD, KATE + Night in a Rocking-Chair, A, 905 + Rival Entertainment, A, 362 + + FIELDS, JAMES T. + Caesar's Quiet Lunch with Cicero, 760 + Owl-Critic, The, 1196 + Pettibone Lineage, The, 196 + + FINN, HENRY J. + Curse of the Competent, The, 14 + + FISK, MAY ISABEL + Evening Musicale, An, 325 + + FLAGG, JAMES MONTGOMERY + Branch Library, A, 1446 + Table Manners, 1400 + + FLOWER, ELLIOTT + Co-operative Housekeepers, The, 927 + Her "Angel" Father, 936 + Strike of One, The, 870 + + FOLEY, J. W. + Sonnets of the Lovable Lass and the Plethoric Dad, 723 + + FORD, JAMES L. + Dying Gag, The, 569 + + FORD, SEWELL + In Defence of an Offering, 1248 + + FOSS, SAM WALTER + Cable-Car Preacher, A, 647 + He Wanted to Know, 1794 + "Hullo", 1706 + Prayer of Cyrus Brown, The, 1398 + She Talked, 264 + + FRANKLIN, BENJAMIN + Maxims, 1804 + Paper: A Poem, 1548 + + FRENCH, ALICE ("Octave Thanet") + Fairport Art Museum, The, 1062 + + FRENCH, ANNE WARNER ("Anne Warner") + So Wags the World, 1092 + Wolf at Susan's Door, The, 626 + + + GILLILAN, STRICKLAND W. + Mammy's Lullaby, 542 + + GILMAN, CAROLINE HOWARD + Colonel's Clothes, The, 396 + + GILMAN, CHARLOTTE PERKINS + Similar Cases, 56 + + GRAY, DAVID + Mr. Carteret and His Fellow Americans Abroad, 1462 + + GREENE, ALBERT GORTON + Old Grimes, 818 + + GREENE, ROY FARRELL + Educational Project, An, 1264 + Wasted Opportunities, 1132 + Woman-Hater Reformed, The, 1359 + + GREENE, SARAH P. MCLEAN + Grandma Keeler Gets Grandpa Ready for Sunday-School 266 + + + HABBERTON, JOHN + Budge and Toddie, 1692 + + HALE, EDWARD EVERETT + Skeleton in the Closet, The, 1371 + + HALE, LUCRETIA P. + Elizabeth Eliza Writes a Paper, 454 + + HALIBURTON, T. C. ("Sam Slick") + Road to a Woman's Heart, The, 1487 + + HALL, BAYNARD RUST + Camp-Meeting, The, 1265 + Selecting the Faculty, 437 + + HAMILTON, GAIL (see MARY ABIGAIL DODGE) + + HARLAND, HENRY + Invisible Prince, The,1836 + + HARRIS, JOEL CHANDLER + My Honey, My Love, 691 + + HARRIS, KENNETT + Trial that Job Missed, The, 1917 + + HARTE, FRANCIS BRET + Melons, 1 + Plain Language from Truthful James, 1997 + Society upon the Stanislaus, The, 1078 + + HARTSWICK, JENNIE BETTS + Weddin', The, 1134 + + HAWTHORNE, NATHANIEL + British Matron, The, 192 + + HAY, JOHN + Banty Tim, 1173 + Distichs, 65 + Mystery of Gilgal, The, 1654 + + HENRY, O. (see SYDNEY PORTER) + + HERFORD, OLIVER + Alphabet of Celebrities, 1243 + + HOBART, GEORGE V. ("Hugh McHugh") + John Henry in a Street Car, 177 + + HOLLEY, MARIETTA ("Josiah Allen's Wife") + How We Bought a Sewin' Machine and Organ, 729 + + HOLMES, OLIVER WENDELL + Autocrat of the Breakfast Table, The, 753 + Contentment, 1952 + Deacon's Masterpiece, or, The Wonderful "One-Hoss Shay," The, 9 + Dislikes, 536 + Evening, 1175 + Height of the Ridiculous, The, 1832 + Latter-Day Warnings, 1168 + + HONEYWOOD, ST. JOHN + Darby and Joan, 166 + + HOOPER, J. J. + Simon Starts in the World, 881 + + HOUGH, EMERSON + Girl and the Julep, The, 1401 + + HOVEY, RICHARD + Barney McGee, 223 + Her Valentine, 1117 + + HOWE, E. W. + Letter from Mr. Biggs, A, 69 + + HOWELLS, WILLIAM DEAN + Mrs. Johnson, 74 + + + IRONQUILL (see EUGENE F. WARE) + + IRVIN, WALLACE + Ballad of Grizzly Gulch, The, 1073 + Boat that Ain't, The, 1764 + Crankidoxology, 688 + Dutiful Mariner, The, 973 + Fall Styles in Faces, 1992 + Forbearance of the Admiral, The, 1553 + Letter from Home, A, 522 + Lost Inventor, The, 1385 + Love Sonnets of a Hoodlum, 307 + Meditations of a Mariner, 713 + Niagara Be Dammed, 1551 + Rhyme of the Chivalrous Shark, The, 483 + + IRVING, WASHINGTON + Wouter Van Twiller, 109 + + + JOHNSON, CHARLES F. + Greco-Trojan Game, The, 595 + + JOSIAH ALLEN'S WIFE (see MARIETTA HOLLEY) + + + KAUFFMAN, REGINALD WRIGHT + Auto Rubaiyat, The, 546 + + KELLEY, J. F. + Desperate Race, A, 742 + + KELLY, MYRA + Morris and the Honorable Tim, 488 + + KISER, S. E. + Budd Wilkins at the Show, 352 + Love Sonnets of an Office Boy, 1056 + Meeting, The, 1915 + Quarrel, The, 68 + When Doctors Disagree, 1762 + Yankee Dude'll Do, The, 136 + + KNOTT, J. PROCTOR + Duluth Speech, The, 1606 + + KOUNTZ, WILLIAM J., JR. ("Billy Baxter") + Grand Opera, The, 693 + + + LAIDLAW, A. H. + It Is Time to Begin to Conclude, 1294 + + LAMPTON, WILLIAM J. + Critic, The, 1336 + New Version, The, 574 + Possession, 2000 + + LANIGAN, GEORGE THOMAS + Threnody, A, 1754 + + LAUGHLIN, E. O. + Hired Hand and "Ha'nts", The, 419 + + LELAND, CHARLES GODFREY + Ballad, 355 + Breitmann and the Turners, 1217 + Breitmann in Politics, 1943 + Hans Breitmann's Party, 446 + Love Song, 1950 + + LELAND, HENRY P. + Dutchman Who Had the "Small Pox", The, 295 + + LESLIE, ELIZA + Set of China, The, 808 + + LEWIS, ALFRED HENRY + Colonel Sterett's Panther Hunt, 98 + + LEWIS, CHARLES B. ("M. Quad") + Two Cases of Grip, 1239 + + LOCKE, DAVID ROSS ("Petroleum V. Nasby") + Letter, A, 282 + + LONGFELLOW, HENRY WADSWORTH + Notary of Perigueux, The, 1251 + + LONG, JOHN LUTHER + Seffy and Sally, 372 + + LONGSTREET, A. B. + Shooting-Match, The, 666 + + LOOMIS, CHARLES BATTELL + Araminta and the Automobile, 1825 + Gusher, The, 1656 + + LORIMER, GEORGE HORACE + Letter from a Self-Made Merchant to His Son, A, 961 + + LOWELL, JAMES RUSSELL + Chief Mate, The, 1482 + Courtin', The, 524 + What Mr. Robinson Thinks, 131 + + LUMMIS, CHARLES F. + My Cigarette, 1292 + Poe-'em of Passion, A, 1879 + + LYNDE, FRANCIS + How Jimaboy Found Himself, 1765 + + + MCHENRY, MAY + Melinda's Humorous Story, 975 + + MCHUGH, HUGH (see George V. Hobart) + + MCINTYRE, JOHN T. + Talking Horse, The, 1185 + + MACGOWAN, ALICE + Columbia and the Cowboy, 1582 + + MACGRATH, HAROLD + Enchanted Hat, The, 1510 + + MACAULEY, CHARLES RAYMOND + Itinerant Tinker, The, 861 + + MARBLE, DANFORTH + Hoosier and the Salt Pile, The, 357 + + MASSON, TOM + Desolation, 686 + Enough, 213 + Hard, 1625 + It Pays to Be Happy, 1170 + Victory, 714 + + MOODY, WILLIAM VAUGHN + Menagerie, The, 24 + + MORRIS, GEORGE P. + Retort, The, 584 + + MOTT, ED + Old Settler, The, 1177 + + MUNKITTRICK, R. K. + April Aria, An, 711 + Fate, 1554 + Goat, The, 1247 + Unsatisfied Yearning, 1835 + Winter Dusk, 1975 + Winter Fancy, A, 1308 + + M., C. W. + Triolets, 1262 + + + NASBY, PETROLEUM V. (see DAVID ROSS LOCKE) + + NAYLOR, JAMES BALL + Comin' Home Thanksgivin, 763 + + NEFF, ELIZABETH HYER + Life Elixir of Marthy, The, 1555 + + NESBIT, WILBUR D. + Cry from the Consumer, A, 190 + Johnny's Pa, 1802 + Odyssey of K's, An, 209 + Tale of the Tangled Telegram, The, 1709 + "Tiddle-iddle-iddle-iddle-Bum! Bum!", 1202 + Ye Legend of Sir Yroncladde, 1973 + + NICHOLSON, MEREDITH + Jack Balcomb's Pleasant Ways, 1300 + + NOBLE, ALDEN CHARLES + Ballade of Ping-Pong, A, 1690 + Tragedy of It, The, 194 + + NYE, EDGAR WILSON ("Bill Nye") + Dubious Future, The, 1298 + Grains of Truth, 985 + Grammatical Boy, The, 16 + Great Cerebrator, A, 1784 + Guest at the Ludlow, A, 1503 + Medieval Discoverer, A, 31 + + + O'CONNELL, DANIEL + Drayman, The, 834 + + O'REILLY, JOHN BOYLE + Disappointment, A, 191 + Yes, 222 + + OSBOURNE, LLOYD + Jones, 1007 + + + PARTINGTON, MRS. (see B. P. SHILLABER) + + PAUL, JOHN (see CHARLES HENRY WEBB) + + PECK, SAMUEL MINTURN + Little Bopeep and Little Boy Blue, 2015 + My Grandmother's Turkey-Tail Fan, 219 + My Sweetheart, 544 + + PHELPS, ELIZABETH STUART (see ELIZABETH STUART PHELPS WARD) + + PHOENIX, JOHN (see GEORGE H. DERBY) + + PORTER, SYDNEY ("O. Henry") + Double-Dyed Deceiver, A, 1927 + + PRICE, WARWICK S. + Is It I, 1447 + + + QUAD, M. (see CHARLES B. LEWIS) + + QUICK, HERBERT + Martyrdom of Mr. Stevens, The, 1151 + + + RANKIN, CARROLL WATSON + Johnny's Lessons, 1570 + + READ, OPIE + Arkansas Planter, An, 556 + + RICE, WALLACE + In Elizabeth's Day, 572 + Myopia, 151 + Rule of Three, A, 1779 + + RILEY, JAMES WHITCOMB + At Aunty's House, 2007 + Bear Story, The, 1047 + Champion Checker-Player of Ameriky, The, 156 + Dos't o' Blues, 486 + Down Around the River, 29 + Funny Little Fellow, The, 822 + Grandfather Squeers, 1571 + Hoss, The, 1759 + Little Mock-Man, The, 540 + Little Orphant Annie, 444 + Lugubrious Whing-Whang, The, 1669 + My Philosofy, 1076 + My Ruthers, 971 + Natural Perversities, 350 + Nine Little Goblins, The, 1635 + Our Hired Girl, 1888 + Ponchus Pilut, 624 + Raggedy Man, The, 643 + "_Ringworm Frank_", 395 + Runaway Boy, The, 832 + Thoughts fer the Discuraged Farmer, 1081 + Tree-Toad, The, 418 + Up and Down Old Brandywine, 1003 + Way It Wuz, The, 261 + When the Frost Is on the Punkin, 169 + + ROBINSON, DOANE + One of the Palls, 1601 + + ROCHE, JAMES JEFFREY + Concord Love-Song, A, 1913 + V-A-S-E, The, 1603 + + ROOF, KATHARINE M. + Associated Widows, The, 1338 + + ROSE, RAY CLARKE + Simple English, 19 + + ROSE, WILLIAM RUSSELL + Conscientious Curate and the Beauteous Ballet Girl, The, 1756 + + + SABIN, EDWIN L. + Her Brother: Enfant Terrible, 2001 + Trouble-Proof, 1801 + + SAXE, JOHN G. + Briefless Barrister, The, 585 + Comic Miseries, 1121 + Coquette, The, 1127 + How the Money Goes, 1780 + Icarus, 1493 + Reflective Retrospect, A, 1703 + Teaching by Example, 91 + + SCOLLARD, CLINTON + Bookworm's Plaint, A, 1878 + Cavalier's Valentine, A, 1782 + Holly Song, 1260 + Vive La Bagatelle, 1497 + + SCUDDER, HORACE E. + "As Good as a Play", 749 + + SHAW, HENRY W. ("Josh Billings") + Laffing, 171 + Muskeeter, The, 181 + + SHILLABER, B. P. ("Mrs. Partington") + Partingtonian Patchwork, 20 + + SHUTE, HENRY A. + Real Diary of a Real Boy, The, 1881 + + SILL, EDWARD ROWLAND + Eve's Daughter, 1605 + + SLICK, SAM (see THOMAS C. HALIBURTON) + + SMILEY, MAURICE + Love Sonnets of a Husband, The, 725 + + SMITH, CHARLES H. ("Bill Arp") + Bill Nations, 1368 + Few Reflections, A, 1799 + Litigation, 1533 + Southern Sketches, 575 + + SMITH, F. HOPKINSON + Chad's Story of the Goose, 993 + Colonel Carter's Story of the Postmaster, 1052 + + SMITH, SEBA ("Major Jack Downing") + My First Visit to Portland, 409 + + SMITH, SOL + Bully Boat and a Brag Captain, A, 1208 + + SOUSA, JOHN PHILIP + Feast of the Monkeys, The, 183 + Have You Seen the Lady? 821 + + SPOFFORD, HARRIET PRESCOTT + Our Very Wishes, 1637 + Tom's Money, 1955 + + STANTON, FRANK L. + Backsliding Brother, The, 1972 + Bill's Courtship, 836 + Billville Spirit Meeting, The, 188 + Boy's View of It, A, 393 + Famous Mulligan Ball, The, 1103 + His Grandmother's Way, 1901 + How I Spoke the Word, 1725 + Mister Rabbit's Love Affair, 1887 + Old Deacon's Version of the Story of the Rich Man and Lazarus, + The, 227 + Old-Time Singer, An, 1941 + Runaway Toys, The, 1671 + Settin' by the Fire, 1821 + When the Little Boy Ran Away, 1792 + + STEDMAN, EDMUND CLARENCE + Diamond Wedding, The, 549 + + STEVENSON, BENJAMIN + Evan Anderson's Poker Party, 1737 + + STINSON, SAM S. + Nothin' Done, 1296 + + STOWE, HARRIET BEECHER + Aunt Dinah's Kitchen, 335 + + STROTHER, B. F. ("Porte Crayon") + Loafer and the Squire, The, 767 + + SUTHERLAND, HOWARD V. + Biggs' Bar, 1967 + Omar in the Klondyke, 1387 + + + TABB, JOHN B. + Beecher Beached, The, 232 + Fascination, 222 + Plagiarism, 316 + + TAYLOR, BAYARD + Experiences of the A. C., The, 116 + + TAYLOR, BENJAMIN F. + Old-Fashioned Choir, The, 1790 + + TAYLOR, BERT LESTON + Farewell, 969 + Kaiser's Farewell to Prince Henry, The, 1568 + Miss Legion, 820 + Traveled Donkey, A, 428 + When the Sirup's on the Flapjack, 1634 + Why Wait for Death and Time, 1866 + + THANET, OCTAVE (see ALICE FRENCH) + + THAYER, ERNEST LAWRENCE + Casey at the Bat, 1148 + + THORPE, THOMAS BANGS + Piano in Arkansas, A, 895 + + TOMPKINS, JULIET WILBOR + Mother of Four, A, 1976 + + TOWNSEND, EDWARD W. + Cupid, A Crook, 1220 + + TROWBRIDGE, J. T. + Coupon Bonds, The, 654 + Darius Green and His Flying-Machine, 1539 + + TUCKER, MARY F. + Going Up and Coming Down, 806 + + + VIELE, HERMAN KNICKERBOCKER + Girl from Mercury, The, 779 + + + WARD, ARTEMUS (see CHARLES FARRAR BROWNE) + + WARD, ELIZABETH STUART PHELPS + Old Maid's House: In Plan, The, 60 + + WARE, EUGENE F. ("Ironquill") + Grizzly-Gru, 174 + He and She, 1250 + Jackpot, The, 2003 + Pass, 91 + Reason, The, 1890 + Shining Mark, A, 1877 + Siege of Djklxprwbz, 1246 + Whisperer, The, 1822 + + WARNER, ANNE (see ANNE WARNER FRENCH) + + WARNER, CHARLES DUDLEY + Garden Ethics, 425 + + WATERLOO, STANLEY + Apostasy of William Dodge, The, 1084 + + WATERMAN, NIXON + Cheer for the Consumer 740 + + WEBB, CHARLES HENRY ("John Paul") + Abou Ben Butler, 1167 + Dictum Sapienti, 1624 + Dum Vivimus Vigilamus, 2005 + Lost Word, The, 293 + Talk, 1307 + What She Said About It, 1263 + + WELLS, CAROLYN + Economical Pair, The, 602 + Experiences of Gentle Jane, 1797 + How to Know the Wild Animals, 650 + Maxioms, 424 + Our Polite Parents, 1688 + Stage Whispers, 195 + Suppressed Chapters, 817 + Turnings of a Bookworm, The, 182 + Two Automobilists, The, 573 + Two Brothers, The, 281 + Two Business Men, The, 583 + Two Farmers, The, 258 + Two Housewives, The, 566 + Two Husbands, The, 587 + Two Ladies, The, 548 + Two New Houses, The, 221 + Two Pedestrians, The, 603 + Two Prisoners, The, 641 + Two Suitors, The, 229 + Two Young Men, The, 565 + Wild Animals I Have Met, 414 + + WETHERILL, J. K. + Unconscious Humor, 998 + + WHICHER, FRANCES M. ("Widow Bedott") + Hezekiah Bedott's Opinion. 1893 + Widow Bedott's Visitor, The, 1660 + + WHITMAN, WALT + Boston Ballad, A, 1479 + + WHITTIER, JOHN GREENLEAF + Demon of the Study, The, 1869 + + WISTER, OWEN + In a State of Sin, 696 + + + YBARRA, THOMAS + Lay of Ancient Rome, A, 2013 + + + + +Breezy Glimpses into the Heart of Bohemia + + + "The author gets at the intimate secrets, the subtle charm of the + Quarter. A spirit of gaiety runs through the book."--_Phila. + Press._ + +By F. BERKELEY SMITH + +Author of "How Paris Amuses Itself" + +The Real Latin Quarter + + +In these captivating and realistic sketches, the reader is taken into +the very heart of Bohemia and shown the innermost life and characters in +this little world of art and amusement. The author pictures with brush, +pen, and camera every nook and corner of the Quarter with such light and +vivid touches that the reader is made to feel the very spirit, breathe +the very atmosphere within these fascinating precincts. We look down +upon the giddy whirl of the "Bal Bullier," enjoy a cozy breakfast at +"Lavenue's," stroll through the Luxembourg Gardens, peep into studios +and little corners known only to the initiated, mingle with the throng +of models, grisettes, students, and artists on "Boul Miche" and in a +hundred other ways see and enjoy this unconventional center. + + +"A True Picture," Say the Artists + +_Charles Dana Gibson:_ "It is like a trip to Paris." + +_John W. Alexander:_ "It is the real thing." + +_Frederic Remington:_ "You have left nothing undone." + +_Ernest Thompson Seton:_ "A true picture of the Latin Quarter as I knew +it." + + +A Richly Made Book + +_Watcrcolor Frontispiece by F. Hopkinson Smith. About 100 original +drawings and camera snap shots by the Author, and two caricatures in +color by the celebrated French caricaturist Sancha. 12mo, Cloth. Price, +$1.20, post-paid._ + + +FUNK & WAGNALLS COMPANY, PUBS., NEW YORK + + + + +Within the Gates of the Kingdom of Fun + + "If you wish to thoroughly soak yourself with the concentrated + essence of enjoyment, read this book quickly. It is too good to + miss."--_The Philadelphia Item._ + +How Paris Amuses Itself + +By F. BERKELEY SMITH + +Author of "The Real Latin Quarter" + +This jolly, handsome book is the very incarnation of that spirit of +amusement which reigns supreme in the capital of the world's fun. The +author unites the graphic skill of the artist, the infectious enthusiasm +of the lover of fun and gaiety, and the intimate personal knowledge of +the long-time resident in this great playground of the world. In spirit +the reader can visit with a delightful comrade all the nooks of jollity +known only to the initiated, enjoy all the sparkle and glitter of the +ever-moving panorama of gaiety, and become a part of the merry throng. + + +"It is the gayest book of the season and is as handsome mechanically as +it is interesting as a narrative. The sparkle, the glow, the charm of +the risque, the shimmer of silks, and the glint of jewels--are all so +real and apparent."--_Buffalo Courier._ + +"The very spirit of modern Paris is prisoned in its text."--_Life._ + +"There is about the whole book that air of light-heartedness and frolic +which is essentially Parisian. This book is a book for everybody--those +who know Paris and those who do not know it."--_North American_, +Philadelphia. + +135 Captivating Pictures + + Six in colors, 16 full-page half-tone inserts, 58 full-page text + drawings, 55 half-page and smaller text drawings by the author and + several French artists, including _Galaniz_, _Sancha_, _Cardona_, + _Sunyer_, _Michael_, _Perenet_, and _Pezilla_. + + +_12mo, Cloth, Handsome Cover Design, $1.50, Post-paid._ + +FUNK & WAGNALLS COMPANY, PUBS., NEW YORK + + + + +The Breeziest Books on Parisian Life + + "For delightful reading one can turn with pleasant anticipations + certain of fulfilment to F. Berkeley Smith's triology of books on + Paris life, 'The Real Latin Quarter' and 'How Paris Amuses Itself,' + and the latest volume just out, 'Parisians Out of + Doors.'"--_Burlington Hawk Eye._ + +Parisians Out of Doors + +By F. BERKELEY SMITH + +Author of "How Paris Amuses Itself" and "The Real +Latin Quarter" + + +"It is a kaleidoscopic miscellany of anecdote, grave and gay; brief bits +of biography and impressionistic portrayal of types, charming glimpses +into Parisian life and character, and, above all, descriptions of the +city's chief, and, to outward view, sole occupation--the art of enjoying +oneself. Tourists have learned that Mr. Smith is able to initiate them +into many mysteries uncatalogued or only guardedly hinted at by more +staidly respectable and professional guides."--_The Globe_, New York. + +"Smith's delightfully sympathetic Paris [Parisians Out of Doors] would +make a wooden Indian part with his cigars."--_Frederic Remington._ + +"Naturally, these scenes and places and the persons who add the living +touches to the pictures are described from the viewpoint of one who +knows them well, for Mr. Smith holds the world of Paris in the hollow of +his hand. This is an ideal book for summer reading."--_New York Press._ + + + _12mo, cloth, handsome binding, illustrated with drawings by the + author and several French artists, and water-color frontispiece by + F. Hopkinson Smith $1.50 post-paid._ + + +FUNK & WAGNALLS COMPANY, PUBS., NEW YORK + + + + +"Mr. Smith does not go sightseeing in the accepted sense of the word. It +is not the museums and historical places in which he is interested, but +_the people themselves_, and he gets many a view of which the hurried +_tourist_ is altogether ignorant."--_Brooklyn Citizen._ + +In London Town + +By F. BERKELEY SMITH + +Illustrated by the Author and other Artists + + +"The charm of this book lies in its breezy talk, its naive descriptions +and its plenitude of atmosphere. It certainly is a most charming book +and the reader will have a good time 'In London Town' if he goes with +the author."--_Philadelphia Inquirer._ + +"Everyday life and the living of it after British standards are what Mr. +Smith sought and here reveals. He could not write an unreadable book, +this American artist. It is all interesting that he has to tell of +London Town."--_San Francisco Bulletin._ + +"The author conscientiously looks for the picturesque and he does much +to show the brighter side of English life, for he writes in a light, +bright, gay style that catches and holds the attention wherever one may +open the book. Indeed he gives a true idea of the real life of the +Londoner as few travellers would be apt to obtain unaided."--_Columbus +(O.) State Journal._ + +"Candor is the prevailing note in this beautiful volume. There is +nothing of the guide book spirit about it. It is bright, replete with +anecdotes and a moving picture of wonderful London. London's labors, its +pictures and its characteristics are shown in breezy fashion and even +English cooking and London's kitchens come in for cheery comment. It is +a refreshing book charmingly exhilarating."--_Philadelphia Record._ + +London Sketched with Brush and Pen: "He has studied London with a +trained intelligence, observed it with an artist's eye, and then gives +us a traveller's impression in a graceful, literary way."--_Chicago +Tribune._ + +"It is brilliantly written. The glimpses of London which he gives are +not at all like anything we are accustomed to in descriptions of +London--herein lies the charm of Mr. Smith's book. He knows London quite +as well as any American. It is a thoroughly delightful narrative--a +pleasant and entertaining story, gracefully written, picturesque, and +wholly original in inspiration and treatment."--_Brooklyn Eagle._ + + +_12 mo. Cloth, Illustrated, $1.50, Post-paid._ + +FUNK & WAGNALLS COMPANY, PUBLISHERS + +NEW YORK AND LONDON + + + + +_ALONG THE BEAUTIFUL ADRIATIC JUST +BEFORE THE WAR BEGAN_ + +Delightful Dalmatia + +By ALICE LEE MOQUE + +One of the most refreshing volumes written in years--a live, snappy, +rollicking tale of experiences aboard and ashore in the most delightful +piece of Southern Europe--along the Adriatic. + +Its pages breathe the very spirit of everything that goes to make +Dalmatia delightful. Story, anecdote--ancient or legendary--beautiful +cities, old churches, countless architectural and other ancient +treasures, etc., etc., pervade its pages in entertaining variety. + +The book is timely for its descriptions of places already in the wake of +war; among these is Cattaro, the recently bombarded fortification on the +Adriatic. Unusually attractive is the great scenic and historic interest +attaching to Pola, Sebenico, Gravossa, Spalato, Ragusa, etc. + +_Cloth bound, 362 pages. Profusely illustrated in color +and half-tone. $2.00, net; by mail, $2.16_ + +FUNK & WAGNALLS COMPANY, Publishers +NEW YORK and LONDON + + + + +THE STORY OF OUR PEOPLE AND +LANDS IN THE NEAR PACIFIC + + +From the descriptions and beautiful illustrations one seems to be +transported to the shores of sweet breezes and lofty peaks--the paradise +of the Pacific. + +HAWAII: + +Our New Possessions + +_By John R. Musick_ + +The true and wonderful story of Hawaii--"the paradise of the +Pacific"--as it has been and as it is to-day. It tells all about the +interesting people--their customs, traditions, etc.; the nature +wonders--volcanoes, fertile valleys, etc.; governmental changes, etc. + +Elegantly and Profusely Illustrated + +with many beautiful half-tone illustrations, adorned with tasteful +border decorations by PHILIP E. FLINTOFF, besides thirty-four artistic +pen sketches by FREELAND A. CARTER. + +_HIGHLY COMMENDED_ + +"A perusal of the book, next to a personal visit, will best afford one a +clear understanding and appreciation of our new possessions."--_St. +Louis Globe-Democrat._ + +"With the great interest that is now felt in this region, the appearance +of the book is exceedingly timely."--_Hartford Courant._ + +"By far the handsomest and most delightful work on this subject ever +published."--_Philadelphia Item._ + +_8vo, 546 pages. 56 full-page half-tone plates. Also +with map. Cloth, $2.75. Half-Morocco, +gilt edges, $4.00_ + +FUNK & WAGNALLS COMPANY, Publishers + +NEW YORK and LONDON + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Wit and Humor of America, Volume X +(of X), by Various + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WIT AND HUMOR *** + +***** This file should be named 24434.txt or 24434.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/4/4/3/24434/ + +Produced by Suzanne Lybarger, Annie McGuire, Brian Janes +and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at +http://www.pgdp.net + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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