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+The Project Gutenberg EBook of Humour of the North, by Lawrence J. Burpee
+
+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: Humour of the North
+
+Author: Lawrence J. Burpee
+
+Release Date: April 11, 2008 [EBook #25041]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ASCII
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HUMOUR OF THE NORTH ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by K Nordquist, Beth Trapaga & the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdpcanada.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+HUMOUR OF THE NORTH
+
+
+
+SELECTED AND ARRANGED BY
+
+LAWRENCE J. BURPEE
+
+
+
+TORONTO
+THE MUSSON BOOK COMPANY
+LIMITED
+
+
+_Entered at
+Stationers' Hall_
+1912
+
+
+
+
+INTRODUCTORY NOTE
+
+
+Some day an enterprising editor may find time to glean from the whole
+field of Canadian literature a representative collection of wit and
+humour. It would include the productions of such acknowledged humorists
+as Thomas Chandler Haliburton and George Thomas Lanigan, as well as
+specimens of characteristic humour from writers who are better
+remembered by their more serious work. It would also include a great
+deal of genuine wit and humour, largely anonymous, in such Canadian
+periodicals as _Grip_, _Punch in Canada_, the _Grumbler_, the _Free
+Lance_, and _Diogenes_; and characteristic passages from the speeches
+of such brilliant and witty debaters as Thomas D'Arcy McGee, Joseph
+Howe, and Nicholas Flood Davin. The present little collection obviously
+makes no such ambitious claim. It embraces, however, what are believed
+to be representative examples of the work of some of our better-known
+writers, many of which will no doubt be quite familiar to Canadian
+readers, but perhaps none the less welcome on that account.
+
+For permission to reproduce these selections the Editor is indebted to
+the authors or their representatives, and in the case of the late Dr.
+Drummond he is also indebted to the publishers, G. P. Putnam's Sons,
+New York. The selection from Joseph Howe's work is taken from his
+_Poems and Essays_; Haliburton's sketches are taken from _The Old
+Judge_; those of Dr. Drummond from _The Habitant_, _Johnnie Courteau_,
+and _The Voyageur_; that of Mrs. Cotes from her _Social Departure_;
+McCarroll's poem from _Madeleine_; Lanigan's Fables from the little
+volume published under that title; and DeMille's selection from _The
+Dodge Club_. Lanigan's humorous verse was never brought together in
+book form.
+
+Ottawa,
+_August, 1910_.
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+                                                         PAGE
+
+JOSEPH HOWE (1804-1873):
+  The Blue Nose                                             1
+  To Mary                                                   3
+  A Toast (To Haliburton)                                   5
+
+THOMAS CHANDLER HALIBURTON (1796-1865):
+  Sheepskins and Politics                                   8
+  The Doctor                                               11
+  Mother Hunt's Chickens                                   15
+  The Deacon's Bargain                                     19
+
+WILLIAM HENRY DRUMMOND (1854-1907):
+  The Corduroy Road                                        22
+  Dominique                                                30
+  How Bateese came Home                                    34
+
+MRS. EVERARD COTES (1862-):
+  The Japanese Reporter                                    46
+
+JAMES McCARROLL (1814-1890):
+  The Gray Linnet                                          59
+
+GEORGE THOMAS LANIGAN (1845-1886):
+  The Ahkoond of Swat                                      61
+  The Amateur Orlando                                      64
+  The Plumber's Revenge                                    71
+  The Merchant of Venice                                   77
+  The Unfortunate Elephant                                 78
+  The Coroner and the Banana Peel                          79
+  The Rhinoceros and the Dromedary                         80
+  The Hen and the Tailor                                   82
+  The Glow-worm and the Famished Nightingale               83
+  The Centipede and the Barbaric Yak                       85
+  The Honest Newsboy                                       87
+  The Villager and the Snake                               88
+  The Ostrich and the Hen                                  90
+
+JAMES DEMILLE (1836-1880):
+  The Senator's Laundry                                    91
+
+
+
+
+HUMOUR OF THE NORTH
+
+
+
+
+THE BLUE NOSE
+
+
+    Let the Student of Nature in rapture descant,
+      On the Heaven's cerulean hue;
+    Let the Lover indulge in poetical rant,
+      When the eyes of his Mistress are blue.
+
+    But fill high your glasses--fill, fill to the brim,
+      I've a different toast to propose:
+    While such eyes, and such skies, still are beaming for him,
+      Here's a health to the jolly Blue Nose.
+
+    Let the Frenchman delight in his vine-covered vales,
+      Let the Greek toast his old classic ground;
+    Here's the land where the bracing Northwester prevails,
+      And where jolly Blue Noses abound.
+
+    Long--long may it flourish, to all of us dear,
+      Loved and honoured by hearts that are true;
+    But, should ever a foe chance his nose to show here
+      He shall find all our Noses true Blue.
+
+
+
+
+TO MARY
+
+
+    Oh! blame me not, Mary, for gazing at you,
+      Nor suppose that my thoughts from the Preacher were straying,
+    Tho' I stole a few glances--believe me 'tis true--
+      They were sweet illustrations of what he was saying.
+
+    For, when he observed that Perfection was not
+      To be found upon Earth--for a moment I bent
+    A look upon you--and could swear on the spot
+      That perfection in Beauty was not what he meant.
+
+    And when, with emotion, the worthy Divine
+      On the doctrine of loving our neighbours insisted,
+    I felt, if their forms were as faultless as thine,
+      I could love every soul of them while I existed.
+
+    And Mary, I'm sure 'twas the fault of those eyes--
+      'Twas the lustre of them to the error gave birth--
+    That, while he spoke of Angels that dwelt in the Skies,
+      I was gazing with rapture at one upon Earth.
+
+
+
+
+A TOAST
+
+
+    Here's a health to thee, Tom: a bright bumper we drain
+      To the friends that our bosoms hold dear,
+    As the bottle goes round, and again and again
+      We whisper, "We wish _he_ were here."
+
+    Here's a health to thee, Tom: may the mists of this earth
+      Never shadow the light of that soul
+    Which so often has lent the mild flashes of mirth
+      To illumine the depths of the Bowl.
+
+    With a world full of beauty and fun for a theme,
+      And a glass of good wine to inspire,
+    E'en without thee we sometimes are bless'd with a gleam
+      That resembles thy spirit's own fire.
+
+    Yet still, in our gayest and merriest mood,
+      Our pleasures are tasteless and dim,
+    For the thoughts of the past and of Tom that intrude
+      Make us feel we're but happy with him.
+
+    Like the Triumph of old where the _absent one_ threw
+      A cloud o'er the glorious scene,
+    Are our feasts, my dear Tom, when we meet without you,
+      And think of the nights that have been.
+
+    When thy genius, assuming all hues of delight
+      Fled away with the rapturous hours,
+    And when wisdom and wit, to enliven the night,
+      Scattered freely their fruits and their flowers.
+
+    When thy eloquence played round each topic in turn,
+      Shedding lustre and life where it fell,
+    As the sunlight, in which the tall mountain tops burn,
+      Paints each bud in the lowliest dell.
+
+    When that eye, before which the pale Senate once quailed
+      With humour and deviltry shone,
+    And the voice which the heart of the patriot hailed,
+      Had mirth in its every tone.
+
+    Then a health to thee, Tom: ev'ry bumper we drain
+      But renders thy image more dear,
+    As the bottle goes round, and again and again,
+      We wish, from our hearts, you were here.
+
+
+
+
+SHEEPSKINS AND POLITICS
+
+
+You know Uncle Tim; he was small, very small--not in stature, for he
+was a six-footer, but small in mind and small in heart; his soul was no
+bigger than a flea's. "Zeb, my boy," says he to me one day, "always be
+neuter in elections. You can't get nothing by them but ill-will. Dear,
+dear! I wish I had never voted. I never did but oncest, and, dear,
+dear! I wish I had let that alone. There was an army doctor oncest,
+Zeb, lived right opposite to me to Digby: dear, dear! he was a good
+friend to me. He was very fond of wether mutton; and, when he killed a
+sheep, he used to say to me, 'Friend Tim, I will give you the skin if
+you will accept it.' Dear, dear! what a lot of them he gave me, first
+and last! Well, oncest the doctor's son, Lawyer Williams, offered for
+the town, and so did my brother-in-law, Phin Tucker; and, dear, dear! I
+was in a proper fix. Well, the doctor axed me to vote for his son, and
+I just up and told him I would, only my relation was candidating also;
+but ginn him my hand and promise I would be neuter. Well, I told
+brother-in-law the same, that I'd vote for him with pleasure, only my
+old friend, the doctor's son, was offering too; and, therefore, gave
+him my word also, I'd be neuter. And, oh, dear, dear! neuter I would
+have remained too, if it hadn't a-been for them two electioneering
+generals--devils, I might say--Lory Scott and Terry Todd. Dear, dear!
+somehow or 'nother, they got hold of the story of the sheepskins, and
+they gave me no peace day or night. 'What,' says they, 'are you going
+to sell your country for a sheepskin?' The day of the election they
+seized on me, one by one arm, and the other by the other, and lugged me
+off to the poll, whether I would or no.
+
+"'Who do you vote for?' said the sheriff.
+
+"'Would you sell your country for a sheepskin?' shouted Terry, in one
+ear.
+
+"'Would you sell your country for a sheepskin?' bellowed Lory, in the
+other ear.
+
+"I was so frightened, I hardly knew what I did; but they tell me I
+voted for brother Phin! Dear, dear! the doctor never gave me a
+sheepskin while he lived after that. Dear, dear!--that was an ugly vote
+for me!"
+
+
+
+
+THE DOCTOR
+
+
+Old Dr. Green (you knowed him, in course--everybody knowed him) lived
+on Digby Neck. He was reckoned a skilful man, and was known to be a
+regular rotated doctor; but he drank like a fish (and it's actilly
+astonishing how many country doctors have taken to drink), and, of
+course, he warn't always a very safe man in cases where a cool head and
+a steady hand was needed (though folks did say he knowed a plaguey
+sight more, even when he was drunk, than one-half of them do when they
+are sober). Well, one day old Jim Reid, who was a pot-companion of his,
+sent him a note to come into town immediately, without the loss of one
+moment of time, and bring his amputating instruments with him, for
+there was a most shocking accident had happened to his house. So in
+come the doctor as hard as he could drive, looking as sorry, all the
+time, as if he didn't live by misfortunes and accidents, the old
+hypocrite!
+
+"My dear friend," said he solemnly, to Reid, and a-taking of him by the
+hand, and giving it a doleful shake--"My dear friend, what is the
+matter?--who is hurt? And what the devil is to pay now? How thankful we
+all ought to be that the accident hasn't occurred to one whom we all
+respect so much as you!"
+
+And then he unpacked his instruments, off with his coat, and up with
+his sleeves; and, with one hand, pulls a hair out of his head, and,
+with the other, takes his knife and cuts it in two, to prove the edge
+was all right. Then he began to whistle while he examined his saw, for
+nothing puts these chaps in such good humour as cutting and slashing
+away at legs and arms--operating, as they call it--and, when all was
+ready, says he--
+
+"Reid," says he, a-tapping him on the shoulder, "where is the patient?"
+
+Well, Reid opened the door of another room, and there was a black boy
+a-holding of a duck on the table that had broke his leg!
+
+"There is a case for amputation, doctor!" said he; "but, first of all,
+take a glass of brandy and water to steady your nerves. He knows you,"
+says he; "hear him how he calls out Quack, quack! after you, as if he
+was afraid to let you perform on him."
+
+Well, the doctor entered into the joke as good-natured as possible,
+laughed like anything, whipped down the grog, whipped off the leg, and
+whipped up the knives and saws in no time.
+
+"You must stay to dine, doctor," said Reid (for the joke was only
+intended to get him into town to drink along with him); and he stayed
+to dine, and stayed to sup, and, being awful drunk, stayed to bed, too.
+
+Well, every time Reid saw him arter that in town, he asked him to come
+in and see his patient, which meant to come in and drink; and so he did
+as long as the cask of rael, particular Jamaikey lasted.
+
+Some time after that the old fellow sent in a bill for operating,
+making a wooden leg, medical attendance, and advice, per order, for
+twenty-five pounds; and, what's more, when Reid wouldn't pay it, the
+doctor sued him for it to court, and gained his cause. Fact, I assure
+you.
+
+
+
+
+MOTHER HUNT'S CHICKENS
+
+
+Five years ago, come next summer, the old lady made a trip to Halifax,
+in one of our Digby coasters, to see sister Susannah, that is married
+in that city to Ted Fowler, the upholsterer, and took a whole lot of
+little notions with her to market to bear expenses; for she is a saving
+kind of body, is mother, and likes to make two ends meet at the close
+of the year. Among the rest, was the world and all of eggs, for she was
+a grand hand in a poultry-yard. Some she stowed away in boxes, and some
+in baskets, and some in tubs, so that no one accident could lose them
+all for her. Well, under the berths in the cabin were large drawers for
+bedding; and she rotated that out, and packed them full of eggs in
+wool, as snug as you please, and off they started on their voyage.
+Well, they had nothing but calms, and light airs, or head winds, and
+were ever so long in getting to town; and, when they anchored, she got
+her duds together, and began to collect her eggs all ready for landing.
+The first drawer she opened, out hopped ever so many chickens on the
+cabin floor, skipping and hopping about, a-chirping, "Chick, chick,
+chick!" like anything!
+
+"Well, if that don't beat all!" said mother, and she looked the very
+picture of doleful dumps. "I hope there is no more of them a-coming
+into the world that way, without being sent for!" and she opened a
+second, and out came a second flock, with a "Chick, chick, chick!" and
+another, and another, till she pulled them all out. The cabin floor was
+chockful of them; for the heat and confined bilge air had hatched all
+the eggs that were in the close and hot drawers.
+
+Oh, the captain, and passengers, and sailors, they roared with
+laughter! Mother was awful mad, for nothing makes one so angry as
+accidents that set folks off a tee-hee-ing that way. If anybody had
+been to blame but herself, wouldn't they have caught it, that's all?
+for scolding is a great relief to a woman; but as there warn't, there
+was nothing left but to cry: and scolding and crying are two
+safety-valves that have saved many a heart from busting.
+
+Well, the loss was not great, though she liked to take care of her
+coppers, too; it was the vexation that worried her. But the worst was
+to come yet. When she returned home, the boys to Digby got hold of the
+story; and, wherever she went, they called out after her "Chick, chick,
+chick!" I skinned about half-a-dozen of the little imps of mischief for
+it, but it only made them worse; for they hid in porches, and behind
+doors, and gates, and fences, as seen her a-coming, and roared out,
+"Chick, chick, chick!" and nearly bothered her to death. So she give up
+going out any more, and never leaves home now. It's my opinion, her
+rheumatism is nothing but the effect of want of exercise, and all comes
+from that cursed "Chick, chick, chick!"
+
+
+
+
+THE DEACON'S BARGAIN
+
+
+Old Deacon Bruce of Aylesford, last Monday week, bought a sleigh of his
+fellow-deacon, Squire Burns, for five pounds. On his way home with it,
+who should he meet but Zeek Morse, a-trudging along through the snow
+a-foot.
+
+"Friend Zeek," says the old Christian, "won't you get in and ride?
+Here's room for you and welcome."
+
+"Don't care if I do," said Zeek, "seeing that sitting is as cheap as
+walking, if you don't pay for it." So he hops in, and away they go.
+
+Well, Zeek was mightily taken with the sleigh.
+
+"Deacon," says he, "how shall you and me trade for it? It's just the
+article I want, for I am a-going down to Bridgetown next week to be
+married; and it will suit me to a notch to fetch Mrs. Morse, my wife,
+home in. What will you take for it?"
+
+"Nine pounds," said old Conscience. "It cost me seven pounds ten
+shillings, to Deacon Burns, who built it; and as it's the right season
+for using it, and I can't get another made till next winter, I must
+have nine pounds for it, and it ain't dear at that price neither."
+
+"Done!" says Zeek--for he is an offhand kind of chap, and never stands
+bantering and chaffering a long time, but says at once what he means,
+as I do. "Done!" says he--"'tis mine!" and the deacon drives up to his
+house, gets his pay, and leaves the sleigh there.
+
+Next morning, when Zeek went to examine his purchase, he found there
+was a bolt left out by mistake, so off he goes to the maker, Deacon
+Burns, to get it put in, when he ups and tells him all about the
+bargain.
+
+"Did the old gentleman tell you my price was seven pounds ten?" said
+he.
+
+"Oh yes," said Zeek, "in course he did--there is no mistake about it.
+I'll take my oath to it."
+
+"Well, so it was," said Burns. "He told you true. He was to give me
+seven pounds ten; but as there was nobody by but him and me when we
+traded, and as it ain't paid for yet, he might perhaps forget it, for
+he is getting to be an old man now. Will you try to recollect it?"
+
+"Sartainly," said Zeek. "I'll swear to it any day you please, in any
+court in the world, for them was his very words to me."
+
+What does Deacon Burns do but go right off and sue Deacon Bruce for
+seven pounds ten, instead of five pounds, the real price; called Zeek
+as a witness to his admission, and gained his case! Fact, upon my soul!
+
+
+
+
+THE CORDUROY ROAD
+
+
+    De corduroy road go bompety bomp,
+    De corduroy road go jompety jomp,
+    An' he's takin' beeg chances upset hees load
+    De horse dat'll trot on de corduroy road.
+
+    Of course it's purty rough, but it's handy t'ing enough,
+    An' dey mak' it wit' de log all jine togeder
+    W'en dey strek de swampy groun' w'ere de water hang aroun'
+    Or passin' by some tough ole beaver medder.
+
+    But it's not macadamise, so if you're only wise
+    You will tak' your tam an' never min' de worry,
+    For de corduroy is bad, an' will mak' you plaintee mad
+    By de way de buggy jomp, in case you hurry.
+
+    An' I'm sure you don't expec' leetle Victorine Leveque
+    She was knowin' moche at all about dem places,
+    'Cos she's never dere before, till young Zepherin Madore
+    He was takin' her away for see de races.
+
+    Oh, I wish you see her den! dat's before she marry, w'en
+    She's de fines' on de lan'; but no use talkin'.
+    I can bet you w'at you lak, if you meet her you look back
+    Jus' to watch de fancy way dat girl is walkin'.
+
+    Yass, de leetle Victorine was de nices' girl between
+    De town of Yamachiche an' Maskinonge,
+    But she's stuck up an' she's proud, an' you'll never count de crowd
+    Of de boy she geev it w'at dey call de conge.
+
+    Ah! de moder spoil her, sure, for even to Joe D'Amour,
+    W'en he's ready nearly ev'ry t'ing to geev her
+    If she mak' de mariee, only say, "Please go away,"
+    An' he's riches' habitant along de reever.
+
+    Zepherin he try it too, an' he's workin' somet'ing new,
+    For he's makin' de old woman many presen'--
+    Prize package on de train, umbrella for de rain--
+    But she's grompy all de tam, an' never pleasan'.
+
+    Wall, w'en he ax Ma-dame tak' de girl away dat tam
+    See dem races on Sorel wit' all de trotter
+    De moder say, "All right, if you bring her home to-night,
+    Before de cow's milk, I let her go, ma daughter."
+
+    So Victorine she go wit' Zepherin her beau
+    On de yankee buggy mak' it on St. Bruno,
+    An' w'en dey pass hotel on de middle of Sorel
+    Dey're puttin' on de beeges' style dat you know.
+
+    Wall! dey got some good horse dere, but Zepherin don't care.
+    He's back it up, hees own paroisse, ba golly,
+    An' he mak' it t'ree doll-arre w'en Maskinonge Star
+    On de two mile heat was beating Sorel Molly.
+
+    Victorine don't min' at all, till de "free for all" dey call--
+    Dat's de las' race dey was run before de snow fly--
+    Den she say, "I t'ink de cow mus' be gettin home soon now
+    An' you know it's only clock ole woman go by.
+
+    "An' if we're comin' late w'en de cow pass on de gate
+    You'll be sorry if you hear de way she talk dere,
+    So w'en I see de race on Sorel or any place
+    Affer dis, you may be sure I got to walk dere."
+
+    Den he laugh, dat Zepherin, an' he say, "Your poor mama,
+    I know de pile she t'ink about her daughter
+    So we'll tak' de short road back on de corduroy race track;
+    Don't matter if we got to sweem de water."
+
+    No wonder he is smile till you hear heem half a mile,
+    For dat morning he was tole hees leetle broder
+    Let de cattle out de gate, so he know it's purty late
+    By de tam dem cow was findin' out each oder.
+
+    So along de corduroy de young girl an' de boy
+    Dey was kipin' up a joggin' nice an' steady.
+    It isn't heavy load, an' Guillaume he know de road
+    For many tam he's been dat way already.
+
+    But de girl she fin' it slow, so she ax de boy to go
+    Somet'ing better dan a mile on fifteen minute,
+    An' he's touch heem up, Guillaume; so dat horse he lay for home,
+    An' de nex' t'ing Victorine she know she's in it.
+
+    "Oh, pull him in," she yell, "for even on Sorel
+    I am sure I never see de quicker racer,"
+    But it's leetle bit too late, for de horse is get hees gait
+    An' de worse of all, ba gosh! Guillaume's a pacer.
+
+    See hees tail upon de air, no wonder she was scare!
+    But she hang on lak de winter on T'ree Reever.
+    Cryin' out, "Please hol' me tight, or I'm comin' dead to-night,
+    An' ma poor old moder dear, I got to leave her."
+
+    Wit' her arm aroun' hees wais'--she was doin' it in case
+    She bus' her head, or keel herse'f, it's not so easy sayin'--
+    Dey was comin' on de jomp t'roo dat dam old beaver swamp
+    An' meet de crowd is lookin' for dem cow was go a-strayin'.
+
+    Den she' cryin', Victorine, for she's knowin' w'at it mean--
+    De parish dey was talkin' firse chances dey be gettin'.
+    But no sooner dat young man stop de horse, he tak' her han'
+    An' w'isper, "Never min', ma chere, won't do no good a-frettin'."
+
+    Non! she isn't cryin' long, for he tole her it was wrong.
+    She's sure he save her life too, or she was moche mistaken,
+    An' de ole Ma-dame Leveque also kiss heem on de neck
+    An' quickly after dat, Hooraw! de man an' wife dey're makin'.
+
+
+
+
+DOMINIQUE
+
+
+    You dunno ma leetle boy Dominique?
+      Never see heem runnin' roun' about de place?
+    'Cos I want to get advice how to kip heem lookin' nice,
+      So he won't be alway dirty on de face.
+    Now dat leetle boy of mine, Dominique,
+      If you wash heem an' you sen' heem off to school,
+    But instead of goin' dere, he was playin' fox an hare--
+      Can you tell me how to stop de leetle fool?
+
+    "I'd tak' dat leetle feller Dominique,
+      An' I'd put heem on de cellar ev'ry day,
+    An' for workin' out a cure bread an' water's very sure,
+      You can bet he mak' de promise not to play!"
+
+    Dat's very well to say, but ma leetle Dominique
+      W'en de jacket we put on heem's only new,
+    An' he's goin' travel roun' on de medder up an' down,
+      Wit' de strawberry on hees pocket runnin' t'roo,
+    An' w'en he climb de fence, see de hole upon hees pant,
+      No wonder hees poor moder's feelin' mad!
+    So if you ketch heem den, w'at you want to do, ma frien'?
+      Tell me quickly an' before he get too bad.
+
+    "I'd lick your leetle boy Dominique,
+      I'd lick heem till he's crying purty hard,
+    An' for fear he's gettin' spile, I'd geev' heem castor ile,
+      An' I wouldn't let heem play outside de yard."
+
+    If you see ma leetle boy Dominique
+      Hangin' on to poor ole "Billy" by de tail,
+    W'en dat horse is feelin' gay, lak I see heem yesterday,
+      I suppose you t'ink he's safer on de jail?
+    W'en I'm lightin' up de pipe on de evenin' affer work,
+      An' de powder dat young rascal's puttin' in,
+    It was makin' such a pouf, nearly blow me t'roo de roof--
+      W'at's de way you got of showin' 'twas a sin?
+
+    "Wall! I put heem on de jail right away,
+      You may bet de wan is got de beeges' wall!
+    A honder foot or so, w'ere dey never let heem go,
+      Non! I wouldn't kip a boy lak dat at all."
+
+    Dat's good advice for sure, very good,
+      On de cellar, bread an' water--it'll do,
+    De nice sweet castor ile geev heem ev'ry leetle w'ile,
+      An' de jail to finish up wit' w'en he's t'roo!
+    Ah! ma frien', you never see Dominique
+      W'en he's lyin' dere asleep upon de bed;
+    If you do, you say to me, "W'at an angel he mus' be,
+      An' dere can't be not'ing bad upon hees head."
+
+    Many t'ank for your advice, an' it may be good for some,
+      But de reason you was geev it isn't very hard to seek--
+    Yass! it's easy seein' now, w'en de talk is over, how
+      You dunno ma leetle boy Dominique.
+
+
+
+
+HOW BATEESE CAME HOME
+
+
+    W'en I was young boy on de farm--dat's twenty year ago--
+    I have wan frien', he's leev near me, call Jean Bateese Trudeau,
+    An offen, w'en we are alone, we lak for spik about
+    De tam w'en we was come beeg man, wit' moustache on our mout'.
+
+    Bateese is get it on hees head he's too moche educate
+    For mak' de habitant farmerre--he better go on State--
+    An' so wan summer evening we're driving home de cow
+    He's tole me all de whole beez-nesse--jus' lak you hear me now.
+
+    "Wat's use mak foolish on de farm? dere's no good chances lef',
+    An' all de tam you be poor man--you know dat's true you'se'f;
+    We never get no fun at all--don't never go on spree
+    Onless we pass on 'noder place, an' mak it some monee.
+
+    "I go on Les Etats-Unis, I go dere right away,
+    An' den, mebbe, on ten-twelve year, I be rich man some day,
+    An' w'en I mak' de large fortune I come back, I s'pose,
+    Wit' Yankee famme from off de State, an' monee on my clothes.
+
+    "I tole you somet'ing else also--mon cher Napoleon--
+    I get de grande majorite, for go on parliament,
+    Den buil' fine house on borde l'eau--near w'ere de church is stand--
+    More finer dan de Presbytere, w'en I am come riche man!"
+
+    I say, "For w'at you spik lak dat? you must be gone crazee.
+    Dere's plaintee feller on de State, more smarter dan you be;
+    Besides, she's not so healtee place, an' if you mak l'argent,
+    You spen' it jus' lak Yankee man, an' not lak habitant.
+
+    "For me, Bateese, I tole you dis: I'm very satisfy--
+    De bes' man don't leev too long tam; some day, ba gosh! he die--
+    An' s'pose you got good trotter horse, an' nice famme Canadienne
+    Wit' plaintee on de house for eat--W'at more you want, ma frien'?"
+
+    But Bateese have it all mak' up, I can't stop him at all.
+    He's buy, etc., seconde classe tiquette, for go on Central Fall,
+    An' wit' two-t'ree some more de boy--w'at t'ink de sam' he do--
+    Pass on de train de very nex' wick, was lef' Riviere du Loup.
+
+    Wall! mebbe fifteen year or more since Bateese go away
+    I fin' meself Riviere du Loup, wan cole, cole winter day.
+    De quick express she come, horraw! but stop de soon she can,
+    An' beeg swell feller jomp off car, dat's boss by nigger man.
+
+    He's dressim on de premiere classe, an' got new suit of clothes
+    Wit' long moustache dat's stickin' out, de 'noder side hees nose,
+    Fine gol' watch chain--nice portmanteau--an' long, long overcoat
+    Wit beaver hat--dat's Yankee style--an' red tie on hees t'roat--
+
+    I say, "Hello, Bateese! Hello! Comment ca va, mon vieux?"
+    He say, "Excuse to me, ma frien', I t'ink I don't know you."
+    I say, "She's very curis t'ing, you are Bateese Trudeau,
+    Was raise on just sam' place wit' me, dat's fifteen year ago?"
+
+    He say, "Oh yass, dat's sure enough--I know you now firs'-rate;
+    But I forget mos' all ma French since I go on de State.
+    Dere's 'noder t'ing kip on your head, ma frien', dey mus' be tole
+    Ma name's Bateese Trudeau no more, but John B. Waterhole!"
+
+    "Hole on de water's" fonny name for man wat's call Trudeau;
+    Ma frien's dey all was spik lak dat, an' I am tole heem so.
+    He say, "Trudeau an' Waterhole, she's jus' about de sam,
+    An' if you for leev on State, you must have Yankee nam'."
+
+    Den we invite heem come wit' us, "Hotel du Canadaw,"
+    W'ere he was treat mos' ev'ry tam, but can't tak' w'iskey blanc.
+    He say sat's leetle strong for man jus' come off Central Fall,
+    An "tabac Canayen" bedamme! he won't smoke dat at all!
+
+    But fancy drink lak "Collings John" de way he put it down!
+    Was long tam since I don't see dat--I t'ink he's goin' drown!--
+    An' fine cigar cos' five cent each, an' mak' on Trois-Rivieres!
+    L'enfant! he smoke beeg pile of dem--for monee he don't care!
+
+    I s'pose, meseff, it's t'ree o'clock w'en we are t'roo dat night.
+    Bateese, hees fader come for heem, an' tak' heem home all right;
+    De ole man say Bateese spik French, w'en he is place on bed--
+    An' say bad word--but w'en he wake--forget it on hees head.
+
+    Wall! all de winter, w'en we have soiree dat's grande affaire
+    Bateese Trudeau, dit Waterhole, de be de boss man dere--
+    You bet he have beeg tam!--but w'en de spring is come encore
+    He's buy premiere classe tiquette for go on State some more.
+
+    You 'member w'en de hard tam come on Les Etats-Unis,
+    An' plaintee Canayens go back for stay deir own contree?
+    Wall! jus' about dat' tam again I go Riviere du Loup
+    For sole me two-t'ree load of hay--mak' leetle visit too.
+
+    De freight train she is jus' arrive--only ten hour delay;
+    She's never carry passengaire--dat's w'at dey always say.
+    I see poor man on char caboose--he's got heem small valise.
+    Begosh! I nearly tak' de fit.--It is--it is Bateese!
+
+    He know me very well dis tam, an' say, "Bon jour, mon vieux.
+    I hope you know Bateese Trudeau was educate wit' you.
+    I'm jus' come off de State to see ma familee encore;
+    I bus' mesef on Central Fall--I don't go dere no more.
+
+    "I got no monee--not at all! I'm broke it up for sure.
+    Dat's locky t'ing, Napoleon, de brakeman, Joe Latour,
+    He's cousin of wan frien' of me call Camille Valiquette,
+    Conductor too's good Canayen--don't ax me no tiquette."
+
+    I tak' Bateese wit' me once more "Hotel du Canadaw."
+    An' he was glad for get de chance drink some good w'iskey blanc!
+    Dat's warm heem up, and den he eat mos' ev'ryt'ing he see;
+    I watch de w'ole beez-nesse mese'f--Monjee! he was hongree!
+
+    Madame Charette, w'at's kip de place, get very much excite
+    For see de many pork an' bean Bateese put out of sight--
+    Du pain dore--potato pie--an' 'noder t'ing be dere,
+    But w'en Bateese is get heem t'roo--dey go I don't know w'ere.
+
+    It don't tak' long for tole de news "Bateese come off de State."
+    An' purty soon we have beeg crowd, lak village she's en fete.
+    Bonhomme Maxime Trudeau hese'f he's comin' wit' de pries'
+    An' pass heem on de "Room for eat" w'ere he is see Bateese.
+
+    Den ev'rybody feel it glad, for watch de embrasser,
+    An' bimeby de old man spik. "Bateese, you here for stay?"
+    Bateese, he's cry lak beeg bebe, "Ba, j'eux rester ici.
+    An' if I never see de State, I'm sure I don't care--me."
+
+    "Correc'," Maxime is say right off. "I place you on de farm
+    For help your poor ole fader; won't do you too moche harm.
+    Please come wit' me on Magasin, I feex you up--ba oui,
+    An' den you're ready for go home an' see de familee."
+
+    Wall! w'en de old man an' Bateese come off de Magasin
+    Bateese is los' hees Yankee clothes--he's dress lak Canayen
+    Wit' bottes sauvages--ceinture flechee--an' coat wit' capuchon
+    An' spik Francais au naturel, de sam' as habitant.
+
+    I see Bateese de oder day, he's work hees fader's place.
+    I t'ink mese'f he's satisfy--I see dat on hees face.
+    He say, "I got no use for State, mon cher Napoleon.
+    Kebeck, she's good enough for me--Hooraw! pour Canadaw."
+
+
+
+
+THE JAPANESE REPORTER
+
+
+We do not know to this day to what circumstance we owed the honour of
+appearing in print in Japan--whether we were mistaken for individuals
+of distinction, or whether we were considered remarkable on our own
+merits on account of being by ourselves; but we went downstairs fully
+believing it to be a custom of the country, a rather flattering custom,
+to which we were much pleased to conform; and this is a true chronicle
+of what happened.
+
+It was a slender, round-faced youth who made his deprecating bow to us
+in the drawing-room. His shoulders sloped, his gray-blue kimono lay in
+narrow folds across his chest like what the old-fashioned people at
+home used to call a sontag. American boots were visible under the skirt
+of the garment, and an American stiff felt hat reposed on the sofa
+beside him. His thick, short black hair stood crisply on end, and out
+of his dark eyes slanted a look of modest inquiry. He was the most
+unaggressive reporter I have ever seen. His boots and his hat were the
+only things about him that I could connect with journalism, as I had
+previously been acquainted with it.
+
+"How do you do?" I said, seeing that the silence must be broken and the
+preliminaries gone through with by somebody.
+
+"Yes!" he responded, with an amiability that induced Orthodocia to get
+up hurriedly and look out of the window. "Did the radies arrive to the
+_Duke of Westminster_?" looking from one to the other of us.
+
+"We believe they did!" gasped Orthodocia, and immediately looked out of
+the window again. I edged my chair toward the other window. Then the
+cloven foot appeared in the shape of a note-book. He produced it with
+gentle ostentation, as one would a trump card. The simile is complete
+when I add that he took it from his sleeve.
+
+"How old is rady?" calmly, deliberately.
+
+"I--I forget," falsified this historian; "forty-five, I believe."
+
+The reporter put it down.
+
+"Other rady, your friend,--not so old? Older? More old?"
+
+"I am twenty-two years of age," said Orthodocia gravely, with a
+reproachful glance at me, "and I weigh ten stone. Height, five feet
+eight inches. In shoes, I am in the habit of wearing fives; in gloves,
+six and a half."
+
+The reporter scribbled convulsively.
+
+"Radies will study Japanese porryticks--please say."
+
+"I beg pardon?"
+
+"Yes." Fills another page.
+
+Orthodocia, suavely, "Are they produced here to any extent?"
+
+"We have here many porryticks--ribarer, conservative, monarchist."
+
+"Oh!" more recourse to the window.
+
+"Orthodocia," I said severely, "you may not be aware of it, but your
+conduct is throwing discredit upon a person hitherto fairly entitled to
+the world's good opinion--which is me. Continue to be absorbingly
+interested in that brick wall, and allow me to talk to the gentleman."
+
+"We have come," I said distinctly--Orthodocia bears testimony to the
+fact that I said it distinctly--"to see Japan as far as Japan will
+permit. Her politics, system of education, customs, and arts will be
+of--ahem!--interest to us. We cannot truthfully say that we expect to
+penetrate more deeply into the national life than other travellers have
+done. In repressing this expectation we claim to be original. We
+confess that our impressions will naturally be superficial, but we hope
+to represent the crust so charmingly that nobody will ask for any of
+the--interior--of the--well, of the pie."
+
+"That's equivocal," said Orthodocia, "and ridiculous."
+
+"Notwithstanding the well-known reticence of the Japanese," I
+continued, "we hope to meet some of them who will show us something
+more of their domesticity than we can see through the windows."
+
+"You will acquire ranguage of Japan?"
+
+"Not all of it, I think. It seems a little difficult, but musical--much
+more musical than our ugly English," interposed Orthodocia.
+
+"Yes. Will you the story of your journey please say?"
+
+"Certainly. We came from Montreal to Vancouver by the C.P.R.--that is
+the best Western railroad on the continent, because it is built with
+English capital," bombastically. "Some people say that you never would
+have heard of Canada in Japan but for the C.P.R., but I am told that
+they are mostly jealous Republican Americans."
+
+The reporter bowed.
+
+"We travelled three thousand nine hundred miles by this route across
+the North-West and through the Rocky Mountains." Here Orthodocia dwelt
+upon the remarkable snow-sheds for protection against avalanches. She
+went on with vague confidence to speak of the opening up of trade
+between Canada and Japan by the new railway and steamship line, and I
+added a few remarks about the interest in Japanese art that existed in
+Montreal, and the advisability of the Japanese establishing firms of
+their own there; while the reporter flattered our eloquence by taking
+down notes enough to fill a quarto volume. We had never been
+interviewed before--we might never be again--and we were determined to
+make the occasion an illustrious one. We were quite pleased with
+ourselves as the nice little creature bowed himself out, promising to
+send us the fortunate _shimbun_ which would publish the interview, with
+a translation of the same, a day or two later.
+
+I suppose it was Orthodocia's effect upon him--the effect I had begun
+to find usual--but he didn't send the _shimbun_; he brought it next
+morning with much apology and many bows. I have before me a pencilled
+document in the handwriting of three persons. The document contains the
+interview as it was set down in the language of the translator, who sat
+with an expression of unruffled repose, and spake aloud from the
+_shimbun_ which he held in his hand. Sometimes Orthodocia took it down,
+sometimes he took it down himself, sometimes I took it down while
+Orthodocia left the room. The reason for this will perhaps be
+self-evident. Orthodocia and I possess the document in turns, to ward
+off low spirits. We have only to look at it to bring on an attack of
+the wildest hilarity.
+
+The reporter came entirely in Japanese costume the second time, and
+left his wooden sandals outside on the stairs. He left most of his
+English there, too, apparently, but he bowed all the way from the door
+to the middle of the apartment in a manner that stood for a great deal
+of polite conversation. Then he sat down and we sat down, and
+Orthodocia prepared to transcribe the interview which had introduced us
+to the Japanese nation from his lips. It was a proud, happy moment.
+
+The reporter took the journal with which he was connected out of one of
+the long, graceful, flowing sleeves which make life worth living for
+masculine Japan. He told us that it was the _Hochi-Hochi-Shimbun_, and
+he carefully pointed out the title, date beginning and end of the
+article, which we marked, intending to buy several copies of the paper
+and send them home. We were anxious that the people there should be
+kept fully enlightened as to our movements, and there seemed to be a
+great deal of detail in the article. Its appearance was a little
+sensational, Orthodocia thought, but she silently concluded, with her
+usual charity, not to blame the reporter for that, since he couldn't
+possibly be considered responsible for the exaggerations of the Chinese
+alphabet.
+
+"Yesterday," translated the reporter solemnly--I must copy the
+document, which does not give his indescribable pronunciation--"by
+Canada steamer radies arrived. The correspondent, who is me, went to
+Grand Hotel, which the radies is. Radies is of Canada, and
+in-the-time-before of Engrand. They have a beautiful countenance."
+
+Here the reporter bowed, and Orthodocia left the room for the first
+time. I think she said she must go and get her pencil sharpened. She
+left it with me, however, and I took up the thread of the interview.
+
+"Object of radies' rocomotion, to make beautiful their minds. Miss
+Elder-Rady answered, 'Our object is to observe habits, makings, and
+beings of the Japanese nation, and to examine how civirisation of
+Engrand and America prevails among the nation. And other objects is to
+examine the art and drawing and education from the exterior of the
+confectionery. In order to observe customs of Japan we intend to rearn
+a private house.'"
+
+We were getting on swimmingly when Orthodocia reappeared, having
+recovered in the interval, and told the reporter that he must think
+foreigners very abrupt and rude, and that he really spoke English
+extremely well. To both of which remarks he responded, with a polite
+suavity that induced me to turn my back upon her in an agony of
+suppressed feeling, "Yes."
+
+"Miss
+Younger-Rady-measuring-ten-stone-and-wearing-six-shoes-and-a-half,
+continue, 'The rai-road between the Montreal and Canada is
+passing----'"
+
+"I beg pardon," said the unhappy Orthodocia, with an awful galvanism
+about the corners of her mouth, "I didn't quite catch what you said--I
+mean what I said."
+
+The reporter translated it over again.
+
+"Perhaps," said I nervously, "it's a misprint."
+
+"No," the reporter replied gravely, "Miss Younger-Rady."
+
+"Gracious!" said Orthodocia.
+
+"And if by the rai-road we emproy the steamer, the commerce of Montreal
+and Japan will prevail. Correspondent asked to Miss Younger-Rady may I
+heard the story of your caravansery?"
+
+Orthodocia again retired. It was a little trying for me, but when he
+continued, "She answered, 'From Montreal to Canada the distance is
+three thousand mires,'" I was glad she had gone. I am afraid I choked a
+little at this point, for just here he decided to wrestle with the
+pencil himself. When he handed the paper back again I read: "While we
+are passing the distance between Mount Rocky I had a great danger, for
+the snow over the mountain is falling down, and the railroad shall be
+cut off. Therefore, by the snowshade, which is made by the tree, its
+falling was defend. Speaking finish. The ladies is to took their
+caravansery attending among a few days. Ladies has the liability of
+many news."
+
+"That last item," said Orthodocia, who had come in with the excuse of
+some tea, "is frightfully correct."
+
+Having despatched the business of the hour and a half, the reporter
+began to enjoy himself, while Orthodocia and I tried to seat ourselves
+where we couldn't see each other's faces in the mirror over the
+mantelpiece. He drank his tea with his head on a level with the table,
+and if suction can express approval it was expressed. He said that
+there were fourteen editorial writers on his _shimbun_, and that its
+circulation was one million. Which shows that for the soul of a
+newspaper man Shintoism has no obvious advantages. He dwelt upon the
+weather for quarters of an hour at a time. The Japanese are such a
+leisurely people. He took more tea, by this time stone cold. He said he
+would bring a Japanese "gentleman and rady" to see us, and in response
+to our inquiry as to whether the lady was the wife or the sister of the
+gentleman, he said, with gravity, "I do not know the rady's wife." He
+asked us for our photographs, and when Orthodocia retired at this for
+the fifth time he thought she had gone to get them, and stayed until I
+was compelled to go and pray her to return. It was the ringing of the
+two o'clock lunch bell that suggested to him that the day was waning,
+and that perhaps he had better wane too.
+
+
+
+
+THE GRAY LINNET
+
+
+There's a little gray friar in yonder green bush, Clothed in
+sackcloth--a little gray friar, Like the druid of old in his
+temple--but hush! He's at vespers; you must not go nigher.
+
+Yet, the rogue! can those strains be addressed to the skies, And around
+us so wantonly float, Till the glowing refrain like a shining thread
+flies From the silvery reel of his throat?
+
+When he roams, though he stains not his path through the air With the
+splendour of tropical wings, All the lustre denied to his russet plumes
+there Flashes forth through his lay when he sings;
+
+For the little gray friar is so wondrous wise, Though in such a plain
+garb he appears, That on finding he can't reach your soul through your
+eyes, He steals in through the gates of your ears.
+
+But the cheat!--'tis not heaven he's warbling about-- Other passions,
+less holy, betide-- For behold, there's a little gray nun peeping out
+From a bunch of green leaves at his side.
+
+
+
+
+THE AHKOOND OF SWAT
+
+
+    What, what, what,
+    What's the news from Swat?
+        Sad news,
+        Bad news,
+    Comes by the cable led
+    Through the Indian Ocean's bed,
+    Through the Persian Gulf, the Red
+    Sea and the Med-
+    Iterranean--he's dead;
+    The Ahkoond is dead!
+
+    For the Akhoond I mourn,
+        Who wouldn't?
+    He strove to disregard the message stern,
+        But he Ahkoodn't.
+
+    Dead, dead, dead;
+        Sorrow Swats!
+    Swats wha hae wi' Ahkoond bled,
+    Swats whom he had often led
+    Onward to a gory bed,
+        Or to victory,
+        As the case might be.
+        Sorrow Swats!
+    Tears shed,
+        Shed tears like water,
+    Your great Ahkoond is dead!
+        That Swats the matter!
+
+    Mourn, city of Swat!
+    Your great Ahkoond is not,
+    But lain 'mid worms to rot:
+    His mortal part alone, his soul was caught
+    (Because he was a good Ahkoond)
+    Up to the bosom of Mahound.
+    Though earthly walls his frame surround
+    (For ever hallowed be the ground!)
+    And sceptics mock the lowly mound
+    And say, "He's now of no Ahkoond!"
+    (His soul is in the skies!)
+    The azure skies that bend above his loved
+        Metropolis of Swat
+      He sees with larger, other eyes,
+      Athwart all earthly mysteries--
+        He knows what's Swat.
+
+    Let Swat bury the great Ahkoond
+      With a noise of mourning and of lamentation!
+    Let Swat bury the great Ahkoond
+      With the noise of the mourning of the Swattish nation!
+
+        Fallen is at length
+        Its tower of strength,
+    Its sun had dimmed ere it had nooned;
+    Dead lies the great Ahkoond,
+        The great Ahkoond of Swat
+        Is not.
+
+
+
+
+THE AMATEUR ORLANDO
+
+
+    It was an Amateur Dram. Ass.
+    (Kind reader, although your
+    Knowledge of French is not first-class
+    Don't call that Amature.)
+    It was an Amateur Dram. Ass.,
+    The which did warfare wage
+    On the dramatic works of this
+    And every other age.
+
+    It had a walking gentleman,
+    A leading juvenile,
+    First lady in book-muslin dressed,
+    With a galvanic smile;
+    Thereto a singing chambermaid,
+    Benignant heavy pa,
+    And oh, heavier still was the heavy vill-
+    Ain, with his fierce "Ha! ha!"
+
+    There wasn't an author from Shakespeare down--
+    Or up--to Boucicault
+    These amateurs weren't competent
+    (S. Wegg) to collar and throw.
+    And when the winter time came round--
+    "Season" 's a stagier phrase--
+    The Am. Dram. Ass. assaulted one
+    Of the Bard of Avon's plays.
+
+    'Twas _As you Like It_ that they chose;
+    For the leading lady's heart
+    Was set on playing Rosalind,
+    Or some other page's part.
+    And the President of the Am. Dram. Ass.,
+    A stalwart, dry-goods clerk,
+    Was cast for Orlando, in which role
+    He felt he'd make his mark.
+
+    "I mind me," said the President
+    (All thoughtful was his face),
+    "When Orlando was taken by Thingummy
+    That Charles was played by Mace.
+    Charles hath not many lines to speak,
+    Nay, not a single length--
+    Oh, if find we can a Mussulman
+    (That is, a man of strength),
+    And bring him on the stage as Charles--
+    But, alas! it can't be did!"
+    "It can," replied the Treasurer;
+    "Let's get The Hunky Kid."
+
+    This Hunky Kid of whom they spoke
+    Belonged to the P. R.;
+    He always had his hair cut short,
+    And always had catarrh.
+    His voice was gruff, his language rough,
+    His forehead villainous low,
+    And 'neath his broken nose a vast
+    Expanse of jaw did show.
+    He was forty-eight about the chest,
+    And his fore-arm at the mid
+    Did measure twenty-one and a half--
+    Such was The Hunky Kid!
+
+    The Am. Dram. Ass., they have engaged
+    This pet of the P. R.;
+    As Charles the Wrestler he's to be
+    A bright, particular star.
+    And when they put the programme out,
+    Announce him thus they did:
+    Orlando ... Mr. Romeo Jones;
+    Charles ... Mr. T. H. Kid.
+
+    The night has come; the house is packed
+    From pit to gallery,
+    As those who through the curtain peep
+    Quake inwardly to see.
+    A squeak's heard in the orchestra,
+    As the leader draws across
+    Th' intestines of the agile cat
+    The tail of the noble hoss.
+
+    All is at sea behind the scenes.
+    Why do they fear and funk?
+    Alas, alas, The Hunky Kid
+    Is lamentably drunk!
+    He's in that most unlovely stage
+    Of half-intoxication
+    When men resent the hint they're tight
+    As a personal imputation!
+
+    "Ring up! ring up!" Orlando cried,
+    "Or we must cut the scene;
+    For Charles the Wrestler is imbued
+    With poisonous benzine,
+    And every moment gets more drunk
+    Than he before has been."
+
+    The wrestling scene has come and Charles
+    Is much disguised in drink;
+    The stage to him's an inclined plane,
+    The footlights make him blink,
+    Still strives he to act well his part
+    Where all the honour lies,
+    Though Shakespeare would not in his lines
+    His language recognise
+    Instead of "Come, where is this young----?"
+    This man of bone and brawn,
+    He squares himself and bellows, "Time!
+    Fetch your Orlandos on!"
+
+    "Now, Hercules be thy speed, young man,"
+    Fair Rosalind said she,
+    As the two wrestlers in the ring
+    Grapple right furiously;
+    But Charles the Wrestler had no sense
+    Of dramatic propriety.
+
+    He seized on Mr. Romeo Jones
+    In Graeco-Roman style;
+    He got what they call a grapevine lock
+    On that leading juvenile;
+    He flung him into the orchestra,
+    And the man with the ophicleide,
+    On whom he fell, he just said--well,
+    No matter what--and died!
+
+    When once the tiger has tasted blood,
+    And found that it is sweet,
+    He has a habit of killing more
+    Than he can possibly eat.
+
+    And thus it was with The Hunky Kid.
+    In his homicidal blindness
+    He lifted his hand against Rosalind,
+    Not in the way of kindness.
+    He chased poor Celia off at L.,
+    At R. U. E. Le Beau,
+    And he put such a head upon Duke Fred,
+    In fifteen seconds or so,
+    That never one of the courtly train
+    Might his haughty master know.
+
+        *     *     *     *     *
+
+    And that's precisely what came to pass
+    Because the luckless carles
+    Belonging to the Am. Dram. Ass.
+    Cast The Hunky Kid for Charles!
+
+
+
+
+THE PLUMBER'S REVENGE
+
+A LEGEND OF MADISON AVENUE
+
+
+    _Canto I--The Death-Bed Oath_
+
+    It was some thirty years ago,
+    An evening calm and red,
+    When a gold-haired stripling stood beside
+    His father's dying-bed.
+    "Attend, my son," the sick man said,
+    "Unto my dying tones,
+    And swear eternal vengeance to
+    The accursed race of Jones.
+    For why? Just nineteen years ago
+    A girl sat by my side,
+    With cheek of rose and breast of snow,
+    My peerless, promised bride.
+    A viper by the name of Jones
+    Came in between us twain;
+    With honeyed words he stole away
+    My loved Belinda Jane.
+    For he was rich and I was poor,
+    And poets all are stupid
+    Who feign the god of Love is not
+    Cupidity, but Cupid.
+    Perchance 'tis well, for had I wed
+    That maid of dark-brown curls,
+    You had not been, or been, instead
+    Of boy, a pair of girls.
+    Now listen to me, Walter Smith;
+    Hie to yon plumber bold,
+    An thou would'st ease my dying pang,
+    His 'prentice be enrolled.
+    For Jones has houses many on
+    The fashionable squares,
+    And thou, perchance, may'st be called in
+    To see to the repairs.
+    Think on thy father's ravished love.
+    Recall thy father's ills,
+    Remember this, the death-bed oath,
+    Then, make out Jones's bills."
+
+
+    _Canto II--The Young Avenger_
+
+    Young Walter's to the plumber gone.
+    A boy with smut on nose,
+    Furnace and carpet-sack in hand,
+    With the journeyman he goes.
+    Now grown a journeyman himself,
+    In grimy hand he gripes
+    A candle-end, and 'neath the sink
+    Explores the frozen pipes.
+    His furnace portable he lights
+    With smoking wads of news-
+    Papers, and smiles to see within
+    The pot the solder fuse.
+    He gives his fiat: "They are froze
+    Down about sixteen feet;
+    If you want water ere July
+    You must dig up the street."
+    "Practical Plumber" now is he,
+    As witnesseth his sign,
+    And ready now to undertake
+    Repairs in any line.
+    One day a housemaid, as he sat
+    At the receipt of biz,
+    Came crying, "Ho, Sir Smith, Sir Smith,
+    Sir Jones's pipes is friz."
+    He girt his apron round his loins,
+    His tools took from the shelf,
+    And to the journeyman he said,
+    "_I'll see to this myself._"
+
+    "Would," said he, as he drew the bill,
+    "My father were alive;
+    Ten pounds of solder at ten cents,
+    $1.75!"
+
+
+    _Canto III--The Traitor's Doom_
+
+    The Jones had houses many on
+    The avenues and squares,
+    And hired the young Avenger Smith
+    To see to the repairs,
+    And Smith put faucets in, and cocks,
+    And meters, eke, and taps,
+    Connections, T-joints, sewer pipes,
+    Basins and water-traps;
+    He tore the walls and ripped the floors
+    To reach the pipes beyond,
+    And excavations in the street
+    And 'neath the side-walk yawned;
+    And daily as he entered up
+    The items in his book
+    The plumber's face wore a serene
+    And retrospective look.
+    And Jones would wring his hands and cry,
+    "Woe, woe, and utter woe!
+    Ah me! that taxes should be so high
+    And rents should be so low!"
+    Then he would give the Smith the house
+    As instalment on account
+    Of its repairs, and notes of hand
+    For the rest of the amount.
+
+
+    _Canto IV--Avenged at Last_
+
+    Now Smith had been for a dozen years
+    In the practical plumbing line,
+    And the bills of Smith did not grind slow,
+    And they ground extremely fine.
+    Terrace by terrace, house by house,
+    The lands of Jones he took,
+    And heavier still the balance was
+    Writ in that fatal book.
+    At last, no property nor cash
+    Had he, so he did fail,
+    And the avenging plumber locked
+    Him up in Ludlow Jail.
+    His heartless creditor he besought
+    For mercy in his need.
+    "Nay, nay, no mercy, lie and rot,"
+    Quoth he, "in jail, like Tweed.
+    For I have sworn avenged to be
+    On thee, thy kin and kith;
+    Rememberest thou Belinda Jane?
+    I am the son of Smith!!!"
+
+
+
+
+THE MERCHANT OF VENICE
+
+
+A Venetian Merchant who was lolling in the lap of luxury was accosted
+upon the Rialto by a friend who had not seen him for many months. "How
+is this?" cried the latter. "When I last saw you your gaberdine was out
+at elbows, and now you sail in your own gondola." "True," replied the
+Merchant, "but since then I have met with serious losses, and been
+obliged to compound with my creditors for ten cents on the dollar."
+
+
+_Moral._--Composition is the life of trade.
+
+
+
+
+THE UNFORTUNATE ELEPHANT
+
+
+An Elephant had been endeavouring to rive the bole of a knotted oak
+with his trunk, but the tree closed upon that member, detaining it, and
+causing the hapless _Elphas Africanus_ intense pain. He shook the
+forest with his trumpeting, and all the beasts gathered around him.
+"Ah, ha, my friend," said a pert Chimpanzee, "you have got your trunk
+checked, I see." "My children," said a temperate Camel to her young,
+"let this awful example teach you to shun the bole." "Does it hurt
+much?" said a compassionate Gnu. "Ah, it does; it does; it must; I gnu
+it; I have been a mother myself." And while they were sympathising with
+him the unfortunate Elephant expired in great agony.
+
+
+_Moral._--The moral of the above is so plain as to need explanation.
+Talk is cheap.
+
+
+
+
+THE CORONER AND THE BANANA PEEL
+
+
+As a Coroner was entering a saloon to see a man he beheld a careless
+boy, who was eating a Banana, cast the rind of the fruit upon the
+slippery stone sidewalk, but instead of chiding the urchin, smiled and
+passed on. As he was coming out of the saloon, having satisfied his
+thirst, he slipped on the peel of the Banana, and, falling, broke his
+neck; so that a rival coroner made the fees from the inquest.
+
+
+_Moral._--It is rare sport to see the Coroner hoist with his own
+petard.
+
+
+
+
+THE RHINOCEROS AND THE DROMEDARY
+
+
+A thirsty Rhinoceros, having to his great joy encountered a Dromedary
+in the desert of Sahara, besought the latter animal of his mercy to
+give him a drink, but the Dromedary refused, stating that he was
+holding the fluid for an advance. "Why," said he to the Rhinoceros,
+"did you not imitate my forethought and prudence, and take some heed to
+the morrow?" The Rhinoceros acknowledged the justice of the rebuke.
+Some time afterwards he met in an oasis the Dromedary, who had realised
+at the turn of the market and was now trying to cover his shorts. "For
+Heaven's sake," he gasped to the Rhinoceros, who was wallowing in the
+midst of a refreshing pool, "trust me for a nip." "When I was thirsty,"
+replied the Rhinoceros, "you declined to stand the drinks, but I will
+give you a horn." So saying, he let the grateful sunlight into the
+Dromedary's innards.
+
+
+_Moral._--Virtue is its own reward.
+
+
+
+
+THE HEN AND THE TAILOR
+
+
+A Hen who had saved a Tailor from drowning in a marine disaster that
+had cost several of his less fortunate companions their lives asked him
+his opinion of the theory of evolution. The grateful Tailor replied
+that he was himself an instance of the survival of the fittest; and the
+philosophical Fowl, remarking that it was vulgar to pun, walked off
+with much dignity to resume her interrupted occupation of hatching out
+a china nest-egg.
+
+
+_Moral._--Some people cannot take a joke.
+
+
+
+
+THE GLOW-WORM AND THE FAMISHED NIGHTINGALE
+
+
+A famished Nightingale, who had been singing to very thin houses,
+chanced to encounter a Glow-worm at eventide and prepared to make upon
+him a light repast. The unfortunate Lampyris Splendidula besought the
+Songster, in the sacred name of Art, not to quench his vital spark, and
+appealed to his magnanimity. "The Nightingale who needlessly sets claw
+upon a Glow-worm," he said, "is a being whom it were gross flattery to
+term a Luscinia Philomela." The Bird, however, turned a deaf beak to
+these appeals and was about to douse the glim, when the Glow-worm cried
+out, "Beware, lest I give you the heartburn; remember how Herod and
+Luther died of a diet of Glow-worms," and while the Nightingale (who
+was by no means a bad bird at stomach) was considering these
+propositions, escaped, hanging out false lights to baffle his enemy's
+pursuit.
+
+
+_Moral._--Let the dead past bury its dead; act, act in the living
+present.
+
+
+
+
+THE CENTIPEDE AND THE BARBARIC YAK
+
+
+While a Centipede was painfully toiling over the Libyan Desert he was
+encountered by a barbaric Yak, who scornfully asked him how were his
+poor feet. The humble creature made no reply at the time, but some days
+later found the barbaric Yak taken in the nets of the hunter and almost
+devoured by insects, which fled at the approach of the Centipede.
+"Help, help, my good friend!" exclaimed the unfortunate beast. "I
+cannot move a muscle in these cruel toils, and the ravenous insects
+have devoured my delicate flesh." "Say you so?" responded the
+Centipede. "Can you really not defend yourself?" "Alas! how can I?"
+replied the Yak. "See you not how straitly I am bound?" "And is your
+flesh then so delicate?" "It is, though I say it who should not."
+"Then," said the Centipede, "I guess I'll take a bite myself."
+
+
+_Moral._--The other man's extremity is often our opportunity.
+
+
+
+
+THE HONEST NEWSBOY
+
+
+A Newsboy was passing along the street, when he chanced to discover a
+purse of greenbacks. He was at first inclined to conceal it, but,
+repelling the unworthy suggestion, he asked a Venerable Man if it was
+his'n. The Venerable Man looked at it hurriedly, said it was, patted
+him on the head, gave him a quarter, and said he would yet be
+president. The Venerable Man then hastened away, but was arrested for
+having counterfeit bills in his possession, while the honest Newsboy
+played penny-ante with his humble quarter and ran it up to $2.62.
+
+
+_Moral._--Honesty is sometimes the best policy.
+
+
+
+
+THE VILLAGER AND THE SNAKE
+
+
+A Villager one frosty day found under a hedge a Snake almost dead with
+cold. Moved with compassion, and having heard that snake oil was good
+for the rheumatiz, he took it home and placed it on the hearth, where
+it shortly began to wake and crawl. Meanwhile, the Villager having gone
+out to keep an engagement with a man 'round the corner, the Villager's
+son (who had not drawn a sober breath for a week) entered, and,
+beholding the Serpent unfolding its plain, unvarnished tail, with the
+cry, "I've got 'em again!" fled to the office of the nearest Justice of
+the Peace, swore off and became an apostle of Temperance at $700 a
+week. The beneficent Snake next bit the Villager's mother-in-law so
+severely that death soon ended her sufferings--and his; then silently
+stole away, leaving the Villager deeply and doubly in its debt.
+
+
+_Moral._--A virtuous action is not always its only reward. A snake in
+the grass is worth two in the boot.
+
+
+
+
+THE OSTRICH AND THE HEN
+
+
+An Ostrich and a Hen chanced to occupy adjacent apartments, and the
+former complained loudly that her rest was disturbed by the cackling of
+her humble neighbour. "Why is it," she finally asked the Hen, "that you
+make such an intolerable noise?" The Hen replied, "Because I have laid
+an egg." "Oh no," said the Ostrich, with a superior smile, "it is
+because you are a Hen and don't know any better."
+
+
+_Moral._--The moral of the foregoing is not very clear, but it contains
+some reference to the Agitation for Female Suffrage.
+
+
+
+
+THE SENATOR'S LAUNDRY
+
+
+Signora Mirandolina Rocca, who was the landlady of the house where the
+Club were lodging, was a widow, of about forty years of age, still
+fresh and blooming, with a merry dark eye, and much animation of
+features. Sitting usually in the small room which they passed on the
+way to their apartments, they had to stop to get their keys, or to
+leave them when they went out, and Buttons and Dick frequently stopped
+to have a little conversation. The rest, not being able to speak
+Italian, contented themselves with smiles; the Senator particularly,
+who gave the most beaming of smiles both on going and on returning.
+Sometimes he even tried to talk to her in his usual adaptation of
+broken English, spoken in loud tones to the benighted but fascinating
+foreigner. Her attention to Dick during his sickness increased the
+Senator's admiration, and he thought her one of the best, one of the
+most kind-hearted and sympathetic of beings.
+
+One day, toward the close of their stay in Rome, the Senator was in a
+fix. He had not had any washing done since he came to the city. He had
+run through all his clean linen, and came to a dead stand. Before
+leaving for another place it was absolutely necessary to attend to
+this. But how? Buttons was off with the Spaniards; Dick had gone out on
+a drive. No one could help him, so he tried it himself. In fact, he had
+never lost confidence in his powers of making himself understood. It
+was still a fixed conviction of his that in cases of necessity any
+intelligent man could make his wants known to intelligent foreigners.
+If not, there is stupidity somewhere. Had he not done so in Paris and
+in other places?
+
+So he rang and managed to make the servant understand that he wished to
+see the landlady. The landlady had always shown a great admiration for
+the manly, not to say gigantic charms of the Senator. Upon him she
+bestowed her brightest smile, and the quick flush on her face and
+heaving breast told that the Senator had made wild work with her too
+susceptible heart.
+
+So now when she learned that the Senator wished to see her, she at once
+imagined the cause to be any thing and every thing except the real one.
+Why take that particular time, when all the rest were out? she thought.
+Evidently for some tender purpose. Why send for her? Why not come down
+to see her? Evidently because he did not like the publicity of her room
+at the Conciergerie.
+
+She arrayed herself, therefore, in her brightest and her best charms;
+gave an additional flourish to her dark hair that hung wavingly and
+luxuriantly, and still without a trace of gray, over her forehead;
+looked at herself with her dark eyes in the glass to see if she
+appeared to the best advantage; and finally, in some agitation, but
+with great eagerness, she went to obey the summons.
+
+Meantime the Senator had been deliberating how to begin. He felt that
+he could not show his bundle of clothes to so fair and fine a creature
+as this, whose manners were so soft and whose smile so pleasant. He
+would do anything first. He would try a roundabout way of making known
+his wishes, trusting to his own powers and the intelligence of the lady
+for a full and complete understanding. Just as he had come to this
+conclusion there was a timid knock at the door.
+
+"Come in," said the Senator, who began to feel a little awkward
+already.
+
+"_E permesso?_" said a soft, sweet voice, "_se puo entrare?_" and
+Signora Mirandolina Rocca advanced into the room, giving one look at
+the Senator, and then casting down her eyes.
+
+"_Umilissima serva di Lei, Signore, mi commandi._"
+
+But the Senator was in a quandary. What could he do? How begin? What
+gesture would be the most fitting for a beginning?
+
+The pause began to be embarrassing. The lady, however, as yet was
+calm--calmer, in fact, than when she entered.
+
+So she spoke once more.
+
+"_Di che ha Ella bisogna, Illustrissimo?_"
+
+The Senator was dreadfully embarrassed. The lady was so fair in his
+eyes. Was this a woman who could contemplate the fact of soiled linen?
+Never.
+
+"Ehem!" said he.
+
+Then he paused.
+
+"_Serva devota_," said Signora Mirandolina. "_Che c'e, Signore._"
+
+Then, looking up, she saw the face of the Senator, all rosy red, turned
+toward her with a strange confusion and embarrassment in his eye; yet
+it was a kind eye--a soft, kind eye.
+
+"_Egli e forse innamorato di me_," murmured the lady, gathering new
+courage as she saw the timidity of the other. "_Che grandezza!_" she
+continued, loud enough for the Senator to hear, yet speaking as if to
+herself. "_Che bellezza! un galantuomo, certamente--e quest' e molto
+piacevole._"
+
+She glanced at the manly figure of the Senator with a tender admiration
+in her eye, which she could not repress, and which was so intelligible
+to the Senator that he blushed more violently than ever, and looked
+helplessly around him.
+
+"_E innamorato di me, senza dubio_," said the Signora, "_vergogna non
+vuol che si sapesse._"
+
+The Senator at length found voice. Advancing toward the lady he looked
+at her very earnestly, and as she thought very piteously held out both
+his hands, then smiled, then spread his hands apart, then nodded and
+smiled again, and said:
+
+"Me--me--want--ha--hum--ah! You
+know--me--gentleman--hum--me----Confound the luck!" he added, in
+profound vexation.
+
+"_Signore_," said Mirandolina, "_la di Lei gentelezza me confonde._"
+
+The Senator turned his eyes all around, everywhere, in a desperate,
+half-conscious search for escape from an embarrassing situation.
+
+"_Signore noi ci siamo sole, nessuno ci senti_," remarked the Signora
+encouragingly.
+
+"Me want to tell you this!" burst forth the Senator. "Clothes--you
+know--washy--washy." Whereupon he elevated his eyebrows, smiled, and
+brought the tips of his fingers together.
+
+"_Io non so che cosa vuol dir mi, Illustrissimo_," said the Signora, in
+bewilderment.
+
+"You--you--you know. Ah? Washy? Hey? No, no," shaking his head, "not
+washy, but _get_ washy."
+
+The landlady smiled. The Senator, encouraged by this, came a step
+nearer.
+
+"_Che cosa? Il cuor me palpita. Io tremo_," murmured La Rocca.
+
+She retreated a step. Whereupon the Senator at once fell back again in
+great confusion.
+
+"Washy, washy," he repeated mechanically, as his mind was utterly vague
+and distrait.
+
+"_Uassi-Uassi?_" repeated the other interrogatively.
+
+"Me----"
+
+"_Tu_," said she, with tender emphasis.
+
+"Wee, mounseer," said he, with utter desperation.
+
+The Signora shook her head.
+
+"_Non capisco. Ma quelle, balordaggini ed intormentimente, che sono si
+non segni manifesti d'amore?_"
+
+"I don't understand, marm, a single word of that."
+
+The Signora smiled. The Senator took courage again.
+
+"The fact is this, marm," said he firmly, "I want to get my clothes
+washed somewhere. Of course you don't do it, but you can tell me, you
+know. Hm?"
+
+"_Non capisco._"
+
+"Madame," said he, feeling confident that she would understand that
+word at least, and thinking, too, that it might perhaps serve as a key
+to explain any other words which he might append to it, "my clothes--I
+want to get them washed--laundress--washy--soap and water--clean 'em
+all up--iron 'em--hang 'em out to dry. Ha?"
+
+While saying this he indulged in an expressive pantomime. When alluding
+to his clothes he placed his hands against his chest, when mentioning
+the drying of them he waved them in the air. The landlady comprehended
+this. How not? When a gentleman places his hand on his heart, what is
+his meaning?
+
+"_O sottigliezza d'amore!_" murmured she. "_Che cosa cerca_," she
+continued, looking up timidly but invitingly.
+
+The Senator felt doubtful at this, and in fact a little frightened.
+Again he placed his hands on his chest to indicate his clothes; he
+struck that manly chest forcibly several times, looking at her all the
+time. Then he wrung his hands.
+
+"_Ah, Signore_," said La Rocca, with a melting glance, "_non e d'uopo
+di desperazione._"
+
+"Washy, washy----"
+
+"_Eppure, se Ella vuol sposarmi, non ce difficolta_," returned the
+other, with true Italian frankness.
+
+"Soap and water----"
+
+"_Non ho il coraggio di dir di no._"
+
+The Senator had his arms outstretched to indicate the hanging-out
+process. Still, however, feeling doubtful if he were altogether
+understood, he thought he would try another form of pantomime. Suddenly
+he fell down on his knees, and began to imitate the action of a
+washer-woman over her tub, washing, wringing, pounding, rubbing.
+
+"_O gran' cielo!_" cried the Signora, her pitying heart filled with
+tenderness at the sight of this noble being on his knees before her,
+and, as she thought, wringing his hands in despair. "_O gran' cielo!
+Egli e innamorato di me non puo parlar Italiano e cosi non puo
+dirmelo._"
+
+Her warm heart prompted her, and she obeyed its impulse. What else
+could she do? She flung herself into his outstretched arms as he raised
+himself to hang out imaginary clothes on an invisible line.
+
+The Senator was thunderstruck, confounded, bewildered, shattered,
+overcome, crushed, stupefied, blasted, overwhelmed, horror-stricken,
+wonder-smitten, annihilated, amazed, horrified, shocked, frightened,
+terrified, nonplussed, wilted, awe-struck, shivered, astounded,
+dumfounded. He did not even struggle. He was paralysed.
+
+"_Ah, carissimo_," said a soft and tender voice in his ear, a low,
+sweet voice, "_se veramenta me ami, saro lo tua carissima sposa----_"
+
+At that moment the door opened and Buttons walked in. In an instant he
+darted out. The Signora hurried away.
+
+"_Addio, bellissima, carissima gioia!_" she sighed.
+
+The Senator was still paralysed.
+
+After a time he went with a pale and anxious face to see Buttons. That
+young man promised secrecy, and when the Senator was telling his story
+tried hard to look serious and sympathetic. In vain. The thought of
+that scene, and the cause of it, and the blunder that had been made
+overwhelmed him. Laughter convulsed him. At last the Senator got up
+indignantly and left the room.
+
+But what was he to do now? The thing could not be explained. How could
+he get out of the house? He would have to pass her as she sat at the
+door.
+
+He had to call on Buttons again and implore his assistance. The
+difficulty was so repugnant, and the matter so very delicate, that
+Buttons declared he could not take the responsibility of settling it.
+It would have to be brought before the Club.
+
+The Club had a meeting about it, and many plans were proposed. The
+stricken Senator had one plan, and that prevailed. It was to leave Rome
+on the following day. For his part he had made up his mind to leave the
+house at once. He would slip out as though he intended to return, and
+the others could settle his bill, and bring with them the clothes that
+had caused all this trouble. He would meet them in the morning outside
+the gates of the city.
+
+This resolution was adopted by all, and the Senator, leaving money to
+settle for himself, went away. He passed hurriedly out of the door. He
+dared not look. He heard a soft voice pronounce the word "_Gioia!_" He
+fled.
+
+Now that one who owned the soft voice afterward changed her feelings so
+much toward her "gioia" that opposite his name in her house-book she
+wrote the following epithets: _Birbone_, _Villano_, _Zolicaccio_,
+_Burberone_, _Gaglioffo_, _Meschino_, _Briconaccio_, _Anemalaccio_.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's Humour of the North, by Lawrence J. Burpee
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