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Rhythmic Flashes 
 
 BY 
 
 JOHN MULLIN BATTEN, B. E., M. D., 
 
 LATE ACTING ASSISTANT SURGEON IN THE UNITED 
 STATES NAVY. 
 
 Author of "Two Years in the United States Navy," 1881, 
 and of " Random Thoughts," 1896. 
 
 PUBLISHED FOR THE AUTHOR. 
 1904. 
 

 Two '1ont(!s )?s«f!i»iv«J 
 
 OCT 24 1904 
 
 ' * ! »JIJ» II U I B»WII..U. l ll..JJJIll lil M HMBKa— 
 
 Copyright by JOHN MULLIN BATTEN, B. E., M. D., 
 Downingtown, Pa. 
 
Debication. 
 
 IN MEMORIAM 
 
 OF MY 
 
 FATHER, 
 
 JAMES BATTEN, 
 
 1796-1870, 
 
 AND OF MY 
 MOTHER, 
 
 SARAH McMULLIN BATTEN, 
 
 1796-1882, 
 
 AND TO MY 
 WIFE, 
 
 MARY BATTEN, 
 
 AND TO MY 
 DAUGHTER, 
 
 CORELLI BATTEN, 
 
 THIS BOOK 
 IS MOST RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 The writing of this book, in my leisure moments 
 has been a work of love. It might have been bet- 
 ter or it might have beeri_ worse^ With all its im- 
 perfections 1 give it to the public with the hope that 
 it may touch the fancy of an occasional reader. 
 Many of the various subjects treated of are expres- 
 sions of the impressions of them in life's early 
 morn. 
 
 J. M. B. 
 
 Downingtown , Wednesday , 
 March qth, i(p4. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 Some Reminiscences, . 
 
 Guthrieville, Pa., . 
 
 On the Death of a Cousin, 
 
 Cervera's Fleet, 
 
 Scientific Medicine, 
 
 Mother's Old Churn, 
 
 An Irishman,, 
 
 Buggy Bed, 
 
 To a Friend, . 
 
 Old Grist Mill, 
 
 Around the Camp Fire, 
 
 Time, 
 
 D. D. Fahrney, 
 
 Springtime, 
 
 Telephone, 
 
 Gloomy Day, 
 
 Felling Trees, 
 
 The Flag of Our Country, 
 
 A. Lammey ; Old Paper Mill, 
 
 Friendship, 
 
 Johnstown Flood, 
 
 Tom's Soliloquy, . 
 
 The Dead Heroes, 
 
 All Fool's Day, 
 
 Childhood Days, 
 
 The Old Farm House, 
 
 The Meeting House on the Hill, 
 
 Natal Place, 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 9 
 
 24 
 29 
 29 
 30 
 31 
 32 
 
 33 
 35 
 36 
 37 
 38 
 39-40 
 41 
 42 
 
 43 
 44 
 45 
 46 
 
 47 
 48 
 
 49 
 50 
 52 
 53 
 55 
 56 
 58 
 
 ( 6 ) 
 

 PAGE. 
 
 W. B. Gushing, 
 
 59 
 
 Rain, .... 
 
 60 
 
 The Old Man, 
 
 61 
 
 The Old Oak Tree, 
 
 62 
 
 The New Year, 
 
 . 64 
 
 Love, .... 
 
 65 
 
 The Old Country Tavern, 
 
 66 
 
 Grandmother's Clock, 
 
 67 
 
 Grandfather's Clock, 
 
 68 
 
 Methods of Treatment of Diphtheria in the Li 
 
 ist 
 
 Thirty Years, 
 
 69 
 
 The Old Forge, 
 
 71 
 
 Declaration of Independence, 
 
 73 
 
 The Doctor, .... 
 
 74 
 
 Sweet, Sweet Home, 
 
 74 
 
 Thanksgiving, 
 
 76 
 
 Cooper's Rocks, 
 
 76 
 
 In the Glen, .... 
 
 77 
 
 The Old Conestoga Wagon, 
 
 78 
 
 The Snake, .... 
 
 79 
 
 The Ocean ; The Old Blacksmith Shop in the 
 
 Country, 80 
 
 Sister Mary ; Life, 
 
 82 
 
 The Normal Trees, 
 
 83 
 
 The Fall, .... 
 
 . 84 
 
 Turkey Gobbler, 
 
 85 
 
 Point Lookout Mountain, 
 
 86 
 
 The Old Church, . 
 
 87 
 
 Mowing in Harvest, . . . 
 
 . 89 
 
 Water Carrier Mollie, 
 
 90 
 
 Life ; My Birthday, 
 
 91 
 
 Sleighing, 
 
 93 
 
 Soliloquizing, 
 
 • 94 
 
 Death, .... 
 
 95 
 
 Farewell, Old Year, 
 
 • 96 
 
 The Old Rocking Chair ; The Turtle, 
 
 97 
 
 The Mail Coach, 
 
 • 98 
 
 July 4th, 1896, 
 
 '( 7 ) 
 
 99 
 
Railroading, 
 
 Blind Girl, .... 
 
 The Doctor, .... 
 
 The Mississippi, .... 
 
 Crossing the Brandywiiie, 
 
 My Sister, .... 
 
 Water Carriers, 
 
 The Old Tin Cup at School, 
 
 Easter Morn, 
 
 Importance of Selecting a Husband or Wife, 
 
 Railroad Train No. i ; No. 2, 
 
 Decoration Day, 
 
 The Old Country School House, 
 
 To Deceased Friend, . 
 
 Mother, 
 
 Camp Meeting, 
 
 The Spinning Wheel, 
 
 The Normal School, 
 
 The Nineteenth Century, . 
 
 Lines on My Dear Friend, 
 
 From Pittsburgh to Philadelphia in the Month of 
 
 Murder Hollow, .... 
 
 To a Young Man at School, 
 
 To an Old, Old Friend, 
 
 Picking Stones, 
 
 A Golden Wedding, 
 
 United States Navy, 
 
 Battle of Gettysburg, 
 
 May, 
 
 PAGE. 
 100 
 lOI 
 103 
 104 
 105 
 106 
 107 
 108 
 109 
 IIO 
 
 III 
 
 112 
 116 
 
 ri7 
 irS 
 121 
 122 
 125 
 126 
 127 
 130 
 
 131 
 132 
 
 134 
 136 
 137 
 139 
 
 ( 8 ) 
 
SOME REMINISCENCES. 
 
 r^****^TUDHNTS of medicine, in my student days 
 at which they intended to graduate. Pre- 
 
 C * many of them selected the medical college 
 
 ♦ «♦♦»«■♦ 
 
 ceptors as a rule were indifferent as to 
 where their students graduated so long as 
 the students chose a regular school. My 
 preceptor gave me the choice of the medical depart- 
 ment of the University of Pennsylvania and the Jef- 
 ferson Medical College, Philadelphia, Penna. The 
 drawing card of the latter, to me, was Professor S. D. 
 Gross, and of the former was Professor H. H. Smith. 
 What determined me in the choice of the medical de- 
 partment of the University of Pennsylvania was, Pro- 
 fessor H. H. Smith was Surgeon- General of the State 
 of Pennsylvania, and therefore would have great in- 
 fluence in the appointment of surgeons to the Penn- 
 sylvania Volunteer Corps. Hence I made choice of 
 the medical department of the University of Pennsyl- 
 vania. Professor H. H. Smith delivered lectures on 
 surgery at the medical department of the University 
 of Pennsylvania, and was one of the faculty thereof. 
 He also was an author of a work on the theory and 
 practice of surgery. This work was very popular, es- 
 pecially among the students of the University. It 
 was a good work of its day. Professor Smith was a 
 
lo SOME REMINISCENCES. 
 
 popular teacher. He appeared before his classes in 
 military attire of which he was very proud and made 
 a handsome and soldier-like appearance. There was 
 great rivalry between Professors H. H. Smith and 
 Samuel D. Gross, and while Professor Samuel D. Gross 
 was more popular and had wider fame as a surgeon, 
 Professor H. H. Smith was equally as good, if not a 
 better operator and a better teacher of surgery. 
 
 When I had graduated from the medical department 
 of the University, Professor H. H. Smith had been 
 succeeded by Dr. James King in the office of Surgeon- 
 General of the State of Pennsylvania, hence I had 
 lost what I had expected, the influence of Professor 
 H. H. Smith in appointing me surgeon in the volun- 
 teer corps of Pennsylvania. I therefore applied to the 
 Secretary of the United States Navy, Gideon Wells, 
 and got permission to appear before the Medical Ex- 
 amining Board of the United States Navy, which was 
 convened at the United States Naval Asylum, Phila- 
 delphia, Pa. The Medical Board was composed of 
 Dr. James M. Greene, President of the Board, and Jona- 
 than M. Folz and Albert Schriver. The examination 
 was fair but rigid. I was before the Board nine d^ys. 
 At the end of which time I received an appointment in 
 the United States Navy as Acting Assistant Surgeon. 
 Right on the heels of the examination of the U. S. 
 Naval Board I went before the State Medical Exam- 
 ining Board of Pennsylvania for examination before 
 that Board. Dr. James King was President of the 
 Board I had applied for and obtained permission to 
 go before that Board about the time I had applied for 
 and obtained permission to go before the U. S. Naval 
 
SOME REMINISCENCES. i j 
 
 Board. The examination before the Pennsylvania 
 State Medical Examining Board was two days in 
 length. The examination was much easier and less 
 thorough than that of the U. S. Naval Medical Ex- 
 amining Board. I afterward received an appointment 
 as Assistant Surgeon in the volunteer corps of Penn- 
 sylvania, an appointment I declined because of my 
 acceptance of the appointment in the United States 
 Navy. 
 
 Again I used my judgment in the choice of a work 
 on surgery. I had H. H. Smith's work on surgery, 
 and S. D. Gross' to make choice of. I chose the lat- 
 ter, and I believe my choice of Gross' work on sur- 
 gery was a wise choice. 
 
 The remainder of the members of the faculty of the 
 medical department of the University of Pennsylva- 
 nia in 1862, was Hugh H. Hodge, Professor of Obstet- 
 rics, who was succeeded in my second year by Profes- 
 sor R. A. F. Penrose. Professor Hodge was author 
 of a large and popular work on obstetrics. His 
 great hobby was the irritable uterus. He actually, 
 with tears in his eyes, would talk about the irritable 
 uterus. Dr. Hodge was also inventor of an obstetric 
 forceps which bears his name, and is still in use, and 
 is popular. Dr. Hodge was considered a good physi- 
 cian in his specialty, and had a large practice. Dr. 
 R. A. F. Penrose, who relieved him in my second 
 winter's course of lectures, was a good teacher, and 
 filled the chair of obstetrics in the University of Penn- 
 sylvania, with credit to himself and benefit to his stu- 
 dents, for many years afterward. 
 
 Professor Samuel Jackson was professor of physi- 
 
12 SOME REMINISCENCES, 
 
 ology. In 1865 I called on Dr. Samuel Jackson, but 
 in the winter of 1862-3, I attended the last course of 
 lectures that that gentleman delivered at the medi- 
 cal department of the University of Pennsylvania, 
 and remember that distinguished gentleman and 
 lecturer well, and recall with what feeling he deliv- 
 ered his farewell address to the medical students of 
 the class in the spring of 1863, when he forever bade 
 farewell as a lecturer and retired from the chair of 
 physiology. The tears ran down over his cheeks 
 while he was speaking, and there were very few dry 
 eyes in the lecture room. The decrepitude of age had 
 crept upon him in the many years he had lectured in 
 the University. He had lost the use of his lower ex- 
 tremities, so that he had to be carried to and from the 
 chair from which he lectured. His hair was gray and 
 his face wrinkled, but he was still lucid and fluent in 
 his delivery. He had been Henry Clay's physician, 
 and in his discourse in the lecture room upon death, 
 told the story of how timid that great man expressed 
 himself as being, as to the physical pains of death. 
 Dr. Jackson endeavored to soothe the mind of the 
 great orator by saying that death takes place by such 
 easy and gradual processes that it is entirely void of 
 pain. He compared death with the going out of the 
 flame of a candle, that was burning in the room at 
 the time, and which was flickering out for want of 
 combustible material. He said, " Mr. Clay, you see 
 how easily and slowly that flame is being extinguished ; 
 so it will be with you when dying — easy, gradual, 
 painless." 
 During the visit to Dr. Samuel Jackson he said to 
 
SOME REMINISCENCES. 13 
 
 me : "I have always been during my life a hard stu- 
 dent, and one of the problems I have been unable yet 
 to solve, is how much inflammable matter in a given 
 time the sun used in warming that space included in 
 the solar system." But he stated further, that if un- 
 able to vSolve the problem in this life, in the next life, 
 to which he was fast hastening, he hoped to be 
 enabled to solve the problem then and there. 
 
 At a speech that Dr. Samuel Jackson delivered at a 
 reception given the tragedian, Edwin Forrest, at 
 Philadelphia, Pa., in 1838, one who was present and 
 heard the great speeches of the evening, said : ' ' The 
 speech of Dr. Samuel Jackson was by all odds the 
 gem of the evening. His diction was of the very 
 best, and a constant stream of eloquence bubbled 
 from his lips. He appeared to be of imagination all 
 compact, and his fancy seemed to be as free and 
 boundless as the chainless wind. Striking figures 
 and beautiful metaphors came at his call as readily as 
 though he wielded the wand of the magician. His 
 words, expressing the most beautiful thoughts, fell 
 from his lips with the grace and readiness of water 
 sparkling from a fountain. He spoke with great ease 
 and rapidity, and to the immature and inexperienced 
 mind of the writer it was the most brilliant and elo- 
 quent speech. He has since heard the deathless three 
 of America, Clay, Calhoun and Webster. He has 
 listened with delight to George McDuffee, William C. 
 Preston, John J. Crittendon, George Poindexter, Jef- 
 ferson Davis and Edward Everett. He has hung en- 
 raptured many times over his utterances, while that 
 marvelous child of genius, Sergeant S. Prentice, 
 
14 SOME REMINISCENCES. 
 
 poured forth a stream of impassioned eloquence as re- 
 sistless as the rush of the mighty river he loved so 
 well, and on the margin of which he had his home. 
 That imperial river, not inaptly termed ' a great in- 
 land sea ' by Mr. Calhoun, now flows by his grave ; 
 and its turbid billows, as they roll in solemn grandeur 
 to the ocean, murmur an eternal requiem to the 
 memory of the most eloquent orator of modern times, 
 or, in my judgment, of any known period of the 
 world's history. And yet, having often listened to 
 the great masters of eloquence whom I have named, 
 the speech of Dr. Samuel Jackson, heard more than 
 half a century since, still lingers in my memory, not 
 only as a * thing of beauty,' but ' a joy forever.' " 
 
 The fall of 1863 Dr. Samuel Jackson was succeeded 
 by Professor Francis G. Smith. Dr. Smith was an 
 excellent and popular teacher of physiology. Had 
 his life been preserved he would have become more 
 famous as a teacher as well as a physician. Drs. 
 O'Neill and Smith were authors of a compendium of 
 medicine. Professor Joseph Carson filled the chair of 
 Materia Medica. He was a popular lecturer, but had 
 somewhat of a halt in his speech. One day in a lec- 
 ture he was delivering to the class he failed, without 
 stammering, to pronounce a name or word he needed 
 to pronounce, which was noticed by the class, which 
 applauded and laughed. Dr. Carson immediately, 
 with tears in his eyes, walked from the lecture room. 
 A student from Kentucky, more manly than the re- 
 mainder of the class, arose and made an eloquent 
 speech defending Professor Carson, and severely rep- 
 rimanding the class. A committee was soon ap- 
 
SOME REMINISCENCES. 15 
 
 pointed by the class to apologize to Professor Carson, 
 after which he resumed his lecture. Professor Car- 
 son was a lover of tobacco in the way of chewing. 
 Professor George Pepper was just the opposite, op- 
 posed to the use of the weed. Professor Carson, in 
 his lecture on tobacco, admitted he chewed tobacco, 
 and was aware of the fact that Professor George Pep- 
 per was very much opposed to the use of tobacco. In 
 his lecture on tobacco he would say, ** although I use 
 tobacco, and my friend, Professor George Pepper does 
 not use it, yet I am about as healthy as he is." 
 
 Professor Joseph Leidy was teacher of anatomy and 
 occupied the chair of anatomy. He stated he always 
 reviewed the lecture before delivering it before the 
 class. One day he made his appearance before the 
 class with his hair cut short. The class applauded. 
 Dr. Leidy simply said, " it may be a joke, but I can't 
 see it," and resumed his lecture. He was the old re- 
 liable. He was punctual to the minute in appearing 
 before his class to lecture, and would always give his 
 class the full benefit of a whole hour's lecture. Pro- 
 fessor Leidy was the most renowned member of the 
 faculty of the medical department of the University 
 of Pennsylvania. He was renowned as a scientist. 
 
 Professor Robert E. Rogers occupied the chair of 
 chemistry. He was the most eloquent lecturer on 
 chemistry I ever heard. A lecture by him one hour 
 on chemistry soon flitted away. He had the faculty 
 of making a dry subject interesting, and hence his 
 lectures on chemistry were intensely interesting. In 
 his last lecture of the course on chemistry he had his 
 lecture room adorned with the products of the vege- 
 
1 6 SOME REMINISCENCES. 
 
 table and mineral world. This lecture was especially- 
 interesting. In this lecture he brought forth his full 
 oratorical powers, and he was supremely eloquent. 
 Everything his hand found to do, he did it with en- 
 thusiasm. This fact was verified in the examination 
 of some machinery in a manufacturing place where he 
 lost his right forearm. The loss of the right forearm 
 was subsequently a great inconvenience to him in the 
 laboratory and lecture room. 
 
 Professor George Pepper delivered lectures on the 
 theory and practice of medicine. He read his lectures 
 from manuscript. His lectures were very entertain- 
 ing as well as instructive. He had in the commence- 
 ment of each lecture one of the three variations in the 
 sentence : " Gentlemen, at our last lecture you may 
 remember," &c., " at our last lecture, gentlemen, you 
 may remember," &c., *'you may remember, gentle- 
 men, at our last lecture," &c. I often thought it 
 strange that he did not get his lectures on the theory 
 and practice of medicine, published. At the time I 
 attended his lectures his two sons, William and 
 George, attended his lectures. George and William 
 are both dead ; George died soon after he graduated. 
 William was spared to succeed his father in the chair 
 of the theory and practice of medicine. 
 
 Eighteen months previous to graduating I was em- 
 ployed as acting medical cadet in the U. S. Army 
 Hospitals, Christian street, and Broad and Cherry 
 streets, Philadelphia, Pa. Dr. J. J. Reese was sur- 
 geon in charge of the Christian street hospital. 
 While there Dr. S. D. Gross tied the subclavian ar- 
 tery in a case of gunshot wound of the right arm of a 
 
SOME REMINISCENCES, 
 
 17 
 
 soldier. After he succeeded in getting the ligature 
 under the artery he placed the free ends of the liga- 
 ture into the hands of Dr. J. J. Reese to tie, but Dr. 
 Reese, in his effort to tie the knot of the ligature 
 around the artery, let one end slip from his fingers, 
 and thus the whole ligature slipped from under the 
 artery. It was the twilight of the evening. Dr. 
 Gross became very much enraged, as he had a right 
 to be angry. The language he used in his fit of mad- 
 ness would not be fitting in a drawing room. He af- 
 terward, by a dim light from a candle, retook up the 
 subclavian artery and tied it himself. A man who 
 had an injured ankle from gunshot wound was ad- 
 vised by S. D. Gross to have the foot amputated above 
 the ankle in order to save his life. The man per- 
 sistently refused to comply with Gross' request, and 
 the ankle of the man not only got well, but he re- 
 covered the full use of it. I have heard Gross say in 
 the lecture room that he wanted to have his body at 
 his death cremated, as he did not want to have his 
 jaw bone kicked about by every passer by. Professor 
 Gross was a brilliant man, and in his chosen profes- 
 sion he was away ahead of his time. At the Ameri- 
 can Medical Association, for several years before his 
 death, I always noticed the trio. Gross, John S. Atlee 
 and Trail Green. The last time I saw these three 
 together was the year the Association met at Cleve- 
 land, O., when John L. Atlee was president. When 
 Gross came into the meeting of the Association and 
 was walking slowly up the aisle, I heard thunders of 
 applause. I looked around to see what it was about, 
 
1 8 SOME REMINISCENCES. 
 
 and it was for Professor Samuel D. Gross. This trio 
 has departed — men that I admired. 
 
 Dr. William V. Keating was surgeon in charge at 
 the Broad and Cherry streets hospital. Dr. Keating 
 had been professor of obstetrics in the Jefferson Medi- 
 cal College. I was at the hospital as an acting medi- 
 cal cadet under Dr. John Bell at the time and after 
 the battle of Gettysburg. John Bell had been a re- 
 nowned physician of Philadelphia. He was between 
 70 and 80 years of age at this time. Most of the 
 work of the ward devolved upon me. Hospital gan- 
 grene broke out among the patients that had been re- 
 ceived in Broad and Cherry streets hospital after the 
 battle of Gettysburg. The patients who had received 
 the slightest wounds in the battle of Gettysburg were 
 affected by the disease. The suffering from this 
 disease was terrible. Bromine, carbolic acid and the 
 actual cautery, were the remedies used in combatting 
 the disease. Bromine or carbolic acid was either used 
 full strength or diluted. It was held by physicians of 
 that time that the long marches the soldiers had to 
 make previous to the battle of Gettysburg, greatly im- 
 poverished their blood and predisposed them to the 
 disease. I^ittle was thought then that the sponge 
 which was used miscellaneously among the wounded 
 patients, Was the breeder and carrier of the disease. 
 This was previous to aseptic and antiseptic medicine. 
 One night when I was officer of the day two cases of 
 hemorrhage occurred. One in a gangrenous right 
 arm, in which the brachial artery was involved. I 
 simply stayed this hemorrhage by applying the tour- 
 niquet, after which the hemorrhage stopped, the 
 
SOME REMINISCENCES. 19 
 
 wound cleared up and healed, and the patient recov- 
 ered. A second case was hemorrhage from the exter- 
 nal iliac, which had been tied after secondary hem- 
 orrhage of the femoral artery. It was a gangrenous 
 case. I opened up the wound and packed it with 
 small sponges saturated with persulphate of iron 
 liquid, applied a compress and stayed the hemorrhage 
 till the surgeon, Adinnell Hewson, came in the morn- 
 ing. The artery was retied and the patient recovered. 
 The matrons of the hospital made this patient a pres- 
 ent of a silver watch for his bravery and patience as 
 displayed in his hours of suffering. Another, or sec- 
 ond patient with hospital gangrene, succumbed about 
 the same time, to death from hemorrhage, after his ex- 
 ternal iliac had been tied. A patient who had sus- 
 tained a gunshot wound of the throat was kept alive 
 by rectal nourishment for about three months. The 
 patient recovered in spite of an unfavorable progno- 
 sis. He became extremely emaciated. He is still 
 living and has been a useful citizen. 
 
 After having been appointed to the position of act- 
 ing assistant surgeon in the United States Navy, I 
 was ordered to the United States steamer, Princeton, 
 to do duty aboard that vessel. The duty aboard this 
 vessel was of an initiatory character, to prepare of- 
 ficers for clerical duties peculiar to each of their par- 
 ticular offices. I made the acquaintance on this ves- 
 sel of Surgeon James McClelland, who was surgeon 
 of the Princeton. He had entered the United States 
 Navy when a young man, and had been in the service 
 since. He was about 55 years of age. One day, 
 whilst on board the Princeton, a blank book in which 
 
20 SOME REMINISCENCES. 
 
 were copied a number of choice prescriptions used by 
 many of the older celebrated physicians of Philadel- 
 phia, fell into my hands. The book belonged to Sur- 
 geon James McClelland. I thought as I had nothing 
 else special to do, I would employ the time in re-copy- 
 ing these prescriptions into a blank book of my own ; 
 and just as I was re-copying the last prescription. Dr. 
 James McClelland came aboard. He noticed me en- 
 gaged in writing in my state-room. He came in and 
 noticed his book. He immediately asked me where I 
 had got the book. I told him where I had got it. 
 " Why," said he, "I would not take any money for 
 a copy of those prescriptions. I consider them very 
 valuable, and would not, for any consideration, let 
 my best friend have a copy of them." 
 
 I told him that I believed it to be very wrong not 
 to let prescriptions which have been found valuable 
 in disease, be known. After reprimanding me for re- 
 copying the prescriptions, he cooled down and became 
 quite affable. I, however, got a copy of the prescrip- 
 tions. 
 
 As an acting assistant surgeon, U. S. N., serving 
 1864-65-66, in the North Atlantic Squadron and in the 
 Mississippi Squadron, I had an opportunity to ob- 
 serve malarial fever in all its forms. In special lo- 
 calities in the sounds of North Carolina and along 
 the rivers emptying into the sounds the disease was 
 mild and less prevalent, according as the locality was 
 free from swamps. Plymouth, situated on the Roa- 
 noke river, which was surrounded by swamps, the 
 disease was very prevalent, indeed ; and more preva- 
 lent on land than on water, notwithstanding the 
 
SOME REMINISCENCES, 21 
 
 mosquitoes were just as numerous on water as on the 
 land. On water they were so numerous that in the 
 evening they would fly around the flame from a can- 
 dle and fall one after another on the top of one 
 another around the wick of the burning candle, and 
 finally extinguish the flame. Mosquitoes prevailed 
 everywhere in North Carolina, where the United 
 States steamer, "Valley City," the vessel to which I 
 was attached, steamed. This would indicate that the 
 disease was more prevalent in swampy regions, inde- 
 pendent of mosquitoes. The fact that the type of the 
 disease was more malignant in swampy localities, 
 also more so on the land than on the water, would in- 
 dicate that mosquitoes had nothing at all to do with 
 respect to the malignancy, the cause, nor the preva- 
 lence of the disease. 
 
 In very malarious districts quinine had very little 
 effect in checking the disease. In fact, treatment 
 in these districts amounted to nil. When the "Val- 
 ley City ' ' remained in these malarial districts for 
 some time the patients suffering with malarial fever 
 could be benefited by treatment only, by the "Valley 
 City" seeking a less malarious district for a time, 
 mosquitoes or no mosquitoes. 
 
 Some chicanery in the treatment of malarial fever, 
 especially the chronic form, is sometimes beneficial, 
 as my experience has taught me, as putting on the 
 hands of a clock just before an expected chill ; giv- 
 ing one drop doses of water, with positive directions to 
 the patient not to take more ; positive declaration by 
 the physician that the patient will not have the ex- 
 
22 SOME REMINISCENCES. 
 
 pected chill. With the above treatment I have known 
 patients to pass over the time for an expected chill. 
 
 On the '* Valley City" I treated one case of typhus 
 fever and one case of yellow fever, both of which 
 died. The yellow fever case, a refugee, contracted 
 the disease at New Berne, N. C. In the summer of 
 1864 there was an epidemic of yellow fever at New 
 Berne, and it is said three thousand people, including 
 soldiers, died of the disease. The disease was more 
 prevalent among whites than among blacks, the 
 disease was more prevalent and more malignant on 
 the first floor of a dwelling than on the second floor, 
 and more prevalent, as well as more malignant, on 
 land than on water. 
 
 In the Mississippi Squadron, at Cairo, Illinois, I 
 treated the malarial fever in its most malignant form. 
 Pernicious fever was very prevalent there the fall of 
 1865. The treatment of pernicious fever requires 
 much watchfulness and care on the part of the physi- 
 cian. At Cairo, too, the disease was more prevalent 
 ashore than aboard ships, notwithstanding mosquitoes 
 were numerous everywhere. They were so bad on the 
 U. S. monitors anchored off Cairo, 111., that they 
 actually died in the meshes of the mosquito nets, and 
 the dead remains stunk. 
 
 Very many of the bounty recruits sent into the 
 U. S. Navy in the latter part of the war, contracted 
 syphilis in the large towns at which they were re- 
 cruited, that their constitutions were broken down 
 before they reached their destination in the U. S. 
 Navy, so that they were more of an expense than 
 a benefit to the U. S. Government. Many of these 
 
SOME REMINISCENCES. 23 
 
 bounty recruits were young men from the country. 
 If they had had the proper training at home, at 
 schools and from the pulpit, they would have been 
 fortified against sin, so that the gates of Hell them- 
 selves could not have prevailed. 
 
 
24 RHYTHMIC FLASHES. 
 
 Guthrieville, Pa., 
 
 On the Harrisburg and Doiuningtown Turnpike, three and a 
 half miles northwest of Downingtown, Pa. 
 
 ABOUT the village of Guthrieville, 
 We spent our boyhood days, 
 There youthful sports we did fulfill, 
 So a friend of ours there says. 
 
 The village had fourteen houses or more, 
 
 And about that many barns ; 
 The country 'round we did explore, 
 
 And about dangers received many warns. 
 
 At the maple was a pool. 
 
 Where I learned to swim first ; 
 
 About the maple 'twas cool, 
 But to learn to swim I thirst. 
 
 Near the maple was Beaver creek, 
 
 In which we'd often swim ; 
 But this was only a freak , 
 
 Into the creek we dove from a limb. 
 
GUTHRIEVILLE, PA. 25 
 
 In the creek we'd often fish, 
 And caught them by a baited hook ; 
 
 They'd always make a good dish 
 When at supper we of them partook. 
 
 Sun fish, cat fish and eels we caught. 
 
 The poles' d bend as they dangled on the lines. 
 
 But these were sort of fish we sought, 
 When to this pastime we had designs. 
 
 About the village we gathered nut, 
 
 Under the big chestnut trees ; 
 We threshed them down with poles we cut. 
 
 And gathered them on our knees. 
 
 In the woods we gathered honeysuckles, 
 
 And whortle berries and black ; 
 There we often scratched our knuckles 
 
 When we were on this track. 
 
 When a tick attacked me, 
 
 My tender flesh it'd bite ; 
 But soon it I'd see, 
 
 And caught it before it got out of sight. 
 
 Then after the cows I often went, 
 
 And'd track them by the bell ; 
 The time in shady, grassy spots they spent, 
 
 But often I was deceived by the knell. 
 
26 RHYTHMIC FLASHES. 
 
 Oft on a fro'sty October morn 
 
 I jumped into the lair of a cow ; 
 The cold of my feet couldn't be borne, 
 
 This I very well remember now. 
 
 We used to often marbles play, 
 
 And'd shoot them toward the hole ; 
 
 Then my opponent would say, 
 
 " Knuckles down," and against them marbles' d 
 roll. 
 
 Behind the barn we played mumbly peg. 
 
 Whatever that doth mean ; 
 From a friend a knife I'd beg. 
 
 And at this game we might be seen. 
 
 High up we used to fly the kite. 
 
 As in the air she'd soar. 
 And often downward she'd take a flight. 
 
 But her flight we did adore. 
 
 Upward the arrow' d ascend, 
 
 As it darted in the air ; 
 Then first the sharp end'd descend 
 
 And stick in the ground over there. 
 
 Then, too, we pitched quoits, 
 
 And when I made a ringer, 
 I thought it great exploits. 
 
 But at the game we'd often linger. 
 
GUTHRIEVILLE, PA. 27 
 
 Down hill we used to slide, 
 
 On the frozen white snow, 
 But faster the sled'd glide 
 
 When the boys' d let it go. 
 
 So, too, we used to jump the rope, 
 
 But oftner a long grapevine ; 
 To jump a hundred times at once I'd hope, 
 
 Sometimes on the banks of the Brandywine. 
 
 Bookbinder, I spy, blind man's buff. 
 Pleased or displeased, and leap frog. 
 
 Were sports at which we had enjoyment enough. 
 But these' d often our studies clog. 
 
 Cat and dog, corner, town ball, 
 
 Hat ball, and take high over. 
 At these games we played, both short and tall, 
 
 And then we were in clover. 
 
 We caught rabbits with a snare. 
 
 Or them out of a stone wall we'd punch ; 
 
 Then a race with the dogs we share. 
 
 And at home each might have one for lunch. 
 
 At all these sports we played. 
 
 Jump over a five-railed fence. 
 As after the fox we strayed, 
 
 But this was no offence. 
 
28 RHYTHMIC FLASHES. 
 
 The Cave Rocks away a mile, 
 
 High up on the hillside, 
 On a Sabbath a lady'd smile, 
 
 As past there she'd ride. 
 
 My initials, '' J. M. B," I traced 
 On a beech tree in the woods ; 
 
 But now they are nearly effaced. 
 As time since has had many moods. 
 
 So my youthful days were past, 
 
 Till the village I at last left, 
 And am in another place cast. 
 
 Now of my former friends I'm bereft. 
 
 For in a far city I be, 
 
 But I must always concede 
 My natal place I love to see. 
 
 But there my friend$are «ie only a meed, 
 
 Tuesday, April gth, i8gS. 
 
CER VERA'S FLEET. 29 
 
 On the Death of a Cousin. 
 
 HANNAH M. MCFARLAN, 
 
 9th Mo. 2, 1898. 
 
 LJ ANNAH has gone to the better land, 
 ^ *- To meet her friends there, 
 And join in the chorus band 
 With her relatives without care. 
 
 To that land we hope to go, 
 
 To be eternally blest, 
 Where there'll be no foe, 
 
 And we'll rest on Jesus' breast. 
 
 Monday, November 15, i8qy. 
 
 Cervera's rieet. 
 
 r^N July the third, 
 ^-^ Eighteen ninety-eight, 
 A commotion was stirred, 
 As a Spanish fleet met its fate. 
 
 Out of Santiago harbor 
 
 Rushed Cervera with his fleet. 
 His ships began to labor. 
 
 As he tried the escapade feat. 
 
30 
 
 RHYTHMIC FLASHES. 
 
 He was headed off by Schley, 
 As he tried to run away, 
 
 And escape on the sly, 
 
 But he was subjected to delay. 
 
 In this delay his fleet was sunk, 
 By the American Navy, 
 
 With steel by the chunk, 
 
 In the waters that were wavy. 
 
 Sunday, August 2i, it 
 
 Scientific Medicine. 
 
 WK assume to cure disease 
 With our special remedies ; 
 Vis Medicatrix Natura is our aid, 
 This part it has always played. 
 
 Prevention is the safest, 
 The good done is the greatest ; 
 In spite of our vaunted drugs, 
 Many of them' 11 do for pugs. 
 
 Scientific man don't want 
 Drugs, nor does he them vaunt ; 
 He treats disease scientifically, 
 And may be specifically. 
 
 He aims to destroy the microbe. 
 Though it may be in the brain-lobe 
 
MY MOTHER'S OLD CHURN. 31 
 
 When killed the disease ends, 
 This is the aid he extends. 
 
 Better have the cell invulnerable, 
 And this may be possible ; 
 Then the microbe can't bite, 
 And we'll not have it to fight. 
 
 By a proper education, 
 
 And a timely preparation, 
 
 This can be accomplished. 
 
 And the cell's vulnerability abolished. 
 
 Thursday^ November 2i, i8gS. 
 
 Mv Mothers Old Churn. 
 
 A T home we had a churn, 
 ^^ I'd often have to turn the crank, 
 Which work I'd often spurn. 
 
 Then my mother gave me a spank. 
 The crank' d have to be revolved 
 
 For an hour before the butter came, 
 And I frequently in my mind resolved, 
 
 That I'd quit and go after game. 
 
 Every week this job I'd have to do. 
 But it was very irksome to a boy, 
 
 And at it sometimes I got blue, 
 
 For it did my pleasures much destroy ; 
 
32 
 
 RHYTHMIC FLASHES. 
 
 But I liked butter on my bread, 
 
 And gulped it down with much zest, 
 
 Still the churning I'd often dread, 
 But to churn an hour I did detest. 
 
 March 7, i8qS. 
 
 An Irishman. 
 
 T FIRST saw the land of old Ireland, 
 A Across the roaring deep. 
 And the bogs of that land. 
 
 When I awoke from life's early sleep. 
 
 'Twas there I kissed the Blarney stone, 
 When young blood coursed my vein ; 
 
 This act since I've tried to atone, 
 Nor has the effort been in vain. 
 
 'Tis said 'tis the land of the Pats, 
 
 There I am sure I heard the name Peggy, 
 
 I heard it on many grass plats, 
 
 Far away from the town of Carnegie. 
 
 August 6, i8gS. 
 
A BUGGY BED. 
 
 A Buggv Bed, 
 
 AT ATLANTIC CITY, N. J. 
 
 *' T ANDIvADY, are there any bugs in that bed ?' 
 *-' ** No, guest, there's not one." 
 Then out of the room she fled, 
 And left me there alone, 
 
 I prepared myself to bed to go, 
 And said my prayers, and all that ; 
 
 Then into bed I myself did throw, 
 
 And there soon came a bug that was fat. 
 
 I just commenced myself to forget. 
 When I felt an irritation on my arm. 
 
 Then I began very much to fret, 
 And then there was a great alarm. 
 
 For out of the bed with my might I sprung, 
 And soon struck a light with a match ; , 
 
 The covers I speedily down flung, 
 Whilst I gave myself a big scratch. 
 
 Then there six bed bugs did run 
 To the four points of the compass ; 
 
 33 
 
34 RHYTHMIC FLASHES. 
 
 They just ran in sheets for fun, 
 But I killed them there, alas ! 
 
 Then I thought I sure might sleep. 
 
 For now there were no more. 
 But soon again in the clothes I did peep, 
 
 Then I saw bugs to the number four. 
 
 Down on the floor I spread a sheet. 
 
 And lie thereon awhile to rest ; 
 But there they followed me very fleet, 
 
 And sucked my blood with much zest. 
 
 Not long, however, I lie there. 
 Then round my body a sheet I wound, 
 
 And covered myself and even my hair ; 
 But soon thereafter I more bugs found. 
 
 For through a hole in the sheet they came 
 
 And made big welts on my skin. 
 Where I saw them by a candle flame. 
 
 And six more I slaughtered — it 'twas a sin. 
 
 The sheet was becoming red instead of white ; 
 
 Around the room I spent my time. 
 For I couldn' t sleep at all that night ; 
 
 And for lodging I paid two dollars and a dime. 
 
TO A FRIEND. 3^ 
 
 lyandlady, if all your guests pay as well, 
 
 The number you last night had, 
 Will your coffers very much swell, 
 
 To leave the place I'm surely glad. 
 
 Friday, August 30, i8gS. 
 
 To a rriend. 
 
 WILLIAM COMPTON, M. D., Lancaster, Pa. 
 
 pvKAR Doctor, I wish to thank you kind, 
 ^-^ And this you can put away in your Bible, 
 For all your attentions I can't be blind. 
 
 And to say anything about you'd be libel. 
 Well do I remember that Sabbath afternoon, 
 
 That was a beautiful day in October, 
 Since then many years have flown ; 
 Then we were certainly both sober 
 
 When you advised me to attend medical college ; 
 
 But you knew well I had little money. 
 Yet that afternoon I did allege 
 
 That there I'd go without ceremony. 
 How pleasant it is for me to recall 
 
 The time we have spent together ; 
 But the years of our lives are nearly all, 
 
 And to them much longer we can't tether. 
 
 I shall always remember you 
 As a kind and true friend : 
 
36 RHYTHMIC FLASHES. 
 
 Your sympathy toward me never flew, 
 And I have tried you never to offend. 
 
 You have stuck closer to me than a father 
 While journeying along in this vale of tears, 
 
 And I'd great deal rather 
 
 Be with you, then I'd have no fears. 
 
 March 7, i8g5. 
 
 The Old Grist Mill. 
 
 A grist of wheat, rye, corn or oats, was put into a bag and 
 usually carried to the mill on a horse's back surmounted by a 
 boy, and not infrequently the bag and rider fell to the ground, 
 and occasionally the horse ran home. The boy pursued him. 
 When the boy had caught the horse and returned with him, 
 in company with a man to put the grist on the horse's back, 
 the boy would sometimes find, to his mortification, the grist 
 partly eaten by the swine. 
 
 USED to ride to the mill 
 With a grist of wheat. 
 And brought home middlings for swill, 
 All in the summer heat. 
 
 I 
 
 The miller was a strong man. 
 
 And could easily shoulder a grist ; 
 
 He didn't belong to any clan, 
 
 And could knock you down with his fist. 
 
 In the mill were ground flour and middlings, 
 
 Out of the grist was taken toll. 
 Around the mill were seedlings. 
 
 But the miller never stole. 
 
AROUND THE CAMP FIRE. 
 
 The mill was run by a water wheel, 
 
 To grind up all the grain, 
 And the miller' d always good feel 
 
 Whenever it happened to rain. 
 
 The mill made such a loud noise 
 
 'Twas very hard to hear ; 
 And one couldn't keep a good poise 
 
 When anything about he might fear. 
 
 The mill always was a busy place 
 The four seasons throughout ; 
 
 The water wheel was run by the race, 
 But the miller never got the gout. 
 
 March Q, z8gS. 
 
 Around the Camp Tire. 
 
 IN THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 A ROUND the camp fire I often sat, 
 ^~^ Whilst I thought of my girl at home, 
 That might be sitting in the doorway on a mat, 
 Wondering if again I'd ever with her roam. 
 
 Many miles between us intervene, 
 Across the mountains, rivers and creeks ; 
 
 37 
 
38 RHYTHMIC FLASHES. 
 
 But will I again be serene, 
 Whilst sitting on a rocking chair that creaks ? 
 
 The time seems long to see my girl, 
 As I gaze into the fire and muse ; 
 
 How many seasons will whirl, 
 Before her again I can amuse ? 
 
 I have fought in many battles now, 
 
 But how many more yet, 
 Before 'twill be convenient to allow 
 
 Me to go and see my Net ? 
 
 The war is cruel, indeed, 
 
 Not to allow me my Net to see ; 
 And only occasionally a letter read. 
 
 But soon I hope to be free. 
 
 Then I'll joyfully to my home go. 
 
 And take Net, and we'll be one ; 
 Then each of our hearts' 11 glow. 
 
 When we've the matrimonial sunshine won. 
 
 Tuesday^ August 20, i8qS. 
 
 Time. 
 
 'T^IMK is ever in the race, 
 ■■^ Both with the young and old ; 
 It keeps onward, onward, apace, 
 And levels all we've been told. 
 
D. H. FAHRNEY. 
 
 The valleys and the hills 
 
 Are leveled by relentless Time ; 
 
 The ravine from the mountains fills, 
 And so it is in every clime. 
 
 There's nothing it doesn't affect, 
 
 Every atom feels its inevitable force ; 
 
 They can't escape its effect, 
 
 As Time passes onward in its course. 
 
 Tuesday, April 2i, l8qb. 
 
 D. D. rahrnev. 
 
 IN ANSWER TO INQUIRIES FOR SCHOOL-MATES. 
 
 T GOT a postal from you, 
 A Inquiring for me and the other three. 
 According to my point of view, 
 You'd like us to see. 
 
 Stroup is dead long ago ; 
 
 Gardner in Lewistown be ; 
 Riggs is in Philadelphia ; so 
 
 I've told you the whole story ; see ? 
 
 Saturday, jfuly 2g, i8gg. 
 
 39 
 
 ANSWER ON WRITING FOR AN ASTRONOMY. 
 
 pvO you wish among the stars to mount ? 
 -•-^ In a few short years at most, to count ? 
 
40 RHYTHMIC FLASHES. 
 
 Then you to one of them may go, 
 Surely this may be really so. 
 
 So you want an astronomy to study ? 
 
 While your cheeks yet are very ruddy, 
 So you on one of them your future home may 
 make. 
 Through the blessing of God and your own 
 sake? 
 
 Saturday, October 14, i8qQ. 
 
 GOOD BYE. 
 
 GOOD-BYE, my dear old friend, 
 I hope we'll sometimes meet, 
 Or I you a lock of my hair send. 
 Or we one another may greet. 
 
 I got a lock of your hair. 
 It doesn't seem very gray. 
 
 It would indicate you very fair, 
 Isn't this true? Say? 
 
SPRINGTIME. 41 
 
 Springtime. 
 
 Now again has come springtime 
 In our part of the Northern hemisphere, 
 And the birds may again sing in this clime, 
 But that will not cause us to shed a tear. 
 
 Flowers may soon begin to bloom ; 
 
 All vegetation may put on her livery of green, 
 And these will dissipate winter's gloom. 
 
 But so it always has been. 
 
 The fragrance of the rose may be smelt, 
 The running stream we may view, 
 
 Whilst other pleasures may be liberally dealt 
 To all, including me and you. 
 
 The sun will on us warmly shine, 
 
 But we may become a little enervated, 
 
 As the season advances very fine. 
 
 But in ourselves we may be renovated. 
 
 The sap may run in the trees. 
 
 And there buds may forth spring ; 
 
 The fruit from them may swing in the breeze, 
 As fast to them il may cling. 
 
 March 27, i8qJ. 
 
42 RHYTHMIC FLASHES. 
 
 Ihe Telephone. 
 
 T^HE telephone is of recent invention, 
 ^ To speak to the people afar ; 
 To this there is no prevention, 
 Any more than riding in a car. 
 
 That pretty young lady listening 
 At the other end of the line, 
 
 Stands there with silk glistening. 
 And appears to be very fine. 
 
 Her dress is silk because it rustles, 
 
 And I hear it at this end, 
 Whenever she uses her muscles, 
 
 Hence her I don't want to offend. 
 
 She is very fine, I heard say, 
 
 When a message was sent over the 'phone 
 That this is true, I pray, 
 
 When I listen to her tone. 
 
 Her voice is always distinct 
 Every time I take her message, 
 
 And I often catch it by instinct. 
 For she never speaks in umbrage. 
 
 I think she's with some one in love, 
 And I'll just ask with whom? 
 
A GLOOMY DAY. 43 
 
 Then she said, '* you'd better move, 
 Till you might see me in a room." 
 
 Finally in a room we met together. 
 And I popped the question to her. 
 
 Then she said, *' I don't care a feather, 
 
 Whether or no I with your wishes concur. ' ' 
 
 March 2J, /8gS. 
 
 A Gloomv Dav. 
 
 SUGGESTED BY A RAINY DAY. 
 
 T^HIS is a dreary day, 
 ^ The door bell hasn't rung. 
 On the window rain drops play, 
 And no sweet music's sung. 
 
 There's not a person to cheer, 
 As the day glides cheerlessly by. 
 
 And' 11 not to-day, I fear, 
 So I'll rear back and sigh. 
 
 Such a day to have a friend, 
 To converse with is joyous indeed ; 
 
 The day comes sooner to an end, 
 As one on his thoughts doesn't feed. 
 
44 
 
 RHYTHMIC FLASHES. 
 
 It brings to memory happier times, 
 When dear friends were many ; 
 
 That was in other climes, 
 
 Now of them there isn't left any. 
 
 How pleasant to live life over, 
 
 Inestimable pleasure it'd be, 
 To have one's friends 'round him hover. 
 
 And at all times them able to see. 
 
 Thursday, A^f-il Q, i8gb. 
 
 relling Trees. 
 
 Two strong men fell a tree, 
 They both at the butt cut, 
 Sometimes one of them on his knee. 
 Till almost off they cut its butt. 
 
 Then the tree'd commence to quiver. 
 Next a to and fro motion ; 
 
 Then there' d be a shiver, 
 And a great commotion. 
 
 Then there' d be a lashing 
 
 Of other trees by its branches ; 
 
 Then there' d be a crashing, 
 Then the tree soon blanches. 
 
 There it lies on the ground 
 In a prostrate condition. 
 
45 
 
 THE FLAG OF OUR COUNTRY. 
 
 Whilst other trees stand around 
 In their natural position. 
 
 March 31, i8qS. 
 
 The riag of Our Country. 
 
 r^UR Country's flag is still there, 
 ^^ And long may she wave, 
 O'er the land of the fair, 
 
 And 'tis our duty her to save. 
 
 There once we saw the stars and bars, 
 When the stars and stripes were absent, 
 
 Wave over our Southern neighbors, 
 But at them many shots were sent. 
 
 There the hour was lonely without our flag, 
 And we felt we had lost a friend. 
 
 For there, there didn't wave the emblem rag, 
 But that time long ago had an end. 
 
 The flag now waves all above our Country broad, 
 
 North, South, Kast and West. 
 In peace and harmony with all, and God ; 
 
 May we these sacred blessings ne'er divest. 
 
 Aprils, z8qS. 
 
46 RHYTHMIC FLASHES. 
 
 A. Lammev. 
 
 IN A LETTER TO MY OLD FRIEND AND SCHOOLMATE. 
 
 W 
 
 HAT atoms we are, 
 
 As we move along in life, 
 And the time isn't afar, 
 
 When we'll end this worldly strife. 
 
 Saturday, yuly 9, i8q8. 
 
 The Old Paper Mill. 
 
 'T*HERE was a paper mill not a mile away 
 * From where my father resided ; 
 And to it sometimes I chanced to stray, 
 Before the Conestoga wagon was sided. 
 
 The mill made paper out of rags 
 By grinding them into water pulp ; 
 
 About the paper I've heard many brags. 
 Hence the market' d always the paper gulp. 
 
 The mill was run by water-power ; 
 
 Much money was made by the owner ; 
 There on the mill was built a tower, 
 
 And the proprietor was the donor. 
 
 The paper every week to a city was hauled 
 In a six-horse Conestoga wagon ; 
 
FRIENDSHIP. 
 
 47 
 
 There the horses were at the inn stalled ; 
 
 The driver then returned with a load of rags 
 braggin'. 
 
 March lO, i8q5. 
 
 rriendship. 
 
 CRIHNDSHIP is a pleasant thing, 
 ^ It cheers the heart and brings delight. 
 Away dull care it doth fling 
 Far beyond us out of sight. 
 
 It fortifies the intellect, 
 
 It makes a common bond 
 Between those it may select, 
 
 And to this it doth respond. 
 
 It prevents a contending law-suit. 
 
 And saves a lawyer's fee ; 
 It cultivates kindness in its pursuit, 
 
 And from trouble it doth flee. 
 
 It brings together warmer friends ; 
 
 It cultivates the power of expression 
 From a back-biter it defends, 
 
 And modifies his impression. 
 
 It makes the whole world akin, 
 And elevates its thoughts ; 
 
48 RHYTHMIC FLASHES. 
 
 Makes it possible not to sin, 
 And criticises improper jots. 
 
 Tuesday, Feb. ii, i8qb. 
 
 Johnstown rioocl. 
 
 May 31, 1889. 
 
 r\^ that dread night on the Conemaugh, 
 ^^ When fathers, mothers, and their children, 
 Were running forward to and fro, 
 To save their own and others' lives. 
 The mighty mountain waves came rolling down 
 Along the mountains' sides ; 
 So swift they came 
 
 That they engulfed the inhabitants by the thous- 
 ands ; 
 The young babe in its mother's arms. 
 The father almost wild with grief, 
 Were floated to death down the Conemaugh. 
 The happy homes ere that dread hour, 
 Were floated down the Conemaugh. 
 The locomotive, strong and bulky, 
 Like a feather was floated down the Conemaugh. 
 Nothing could withstand the waves. 
 As they dashed down along the Conemaugh. 
 The towering oak, too, was upheaved. 
 And floated down the Conemaugh. 
 Ear oft hath not heard the cries and shrieks, 
 And the dying humanity's groans, 
 As they were floating down the Conemaugh. 
 
TOM'S SOLILOQUY. 49 
 
 Eye oft hath not seen the anxious face 
 
 As it yearned forth for help, 
 
 Floating down the Conemaugh. 
 
 Tongue cannot express the anguish of those, 
 
 As they were floating down the Conemaugh. 
 
 Here fathers, mothers, and their children. 
 
 Succumbed to death, 
 
 As they were floated down the Conemaugh. 
 
 The railroad train in that dread hour. 
 
 With its passengers, too, 
 
 Was floated down the Conemaugh. 
 
 The shrieking whistle, 
 
 The driving wheel. 
 
 Were floated down the Conemaugh. 
 
 The cushioned chair, the golden cup. 
 
 Were floated down the Conemaugh. 
 
 The hopes and fears of that fatal hour 
 
 Were floated down the Conemaugh, 
 
 Our dear friends, too, in that stricken valley, 
 
 Were floated down the Conemaugh. 
 
 Wednesday , yune 3, i88q. 
 
 Tom's Soliloquv. 
 
 T^HE place seems lonely and sad, 
 ^ I miss all the joys of home I once had, 
 I try to be cheerful, I fail to be glad. 
 Since Evelene's gone with the babies. 
 
 I roam through the hall of the house, 
 Everything's as still as a mouse. 
 
50 RHYTHMIC FLASHES. 
 
 I'd give many and many a souse, 
 
 To have Evelene, who's gone with the babies. 
 
 In the rooms I whistle and write, 
 Oft I let in a little more light, 
 To observe something in sight, 
 That tells me of Evelene, who's gone with the 
 babies. 
 
 She's gone away many a mile, 
 
 While absent I work, I eat, I sleep and I smile. 
 
 But it does seem a terrible while 
 
 Since Evelene' s gone with the babies. 
 
 Gee wis ! won't this rooster crow, 
 'Twill be joy beyond measure to know. 
 And I'll not be very, very slow. 
 To greet Evelene when she comes with the 
 babies. 
 
 Friday ^ July ib, iSqy. 
 
 The Dead Heroes. 
 
 T^HIS is a day of decoration 
 * Of the graves of the brave ; 
 There may be many an oration. 
 
 As flowers are spread on each grave. 
 
 They fought for the Union 
 On many a battle-field ; 
 
THE DEAD HEROES. 51 
 
 Of the living there's a communion, 
 Whose hearts are not steeled. 
 
 They braved the bristling bayonets, 
 For the union of the States, 
 
 Against the gray Confederates, 
 And fell by the fates. 
 
 There was a great commotion 
 Eighteen hundred and sixty-one ; 
 
 There was a sort of notion 
 That separation could be won. 
 
 Then followed a fratricidal war 
 Of about four long years, 
 
 And was won by the Federal corps ; 
 Then there were many cheers. 
 
 These cheers are being repeated 
 On each Decoration Day, 
 
 When the flowers are greeted. 
 And no one says nay. 
 
 Thus, from year to year 
 The flowers' ve been strewn, 
 
 Without any great fear 
 That the end' 11 be soon. 
 
52 
 
 RHYTHMIC FLASHES. 
 
 So Decoration Day may continue 
 Till the Day of Judgment comes, 
 
 Or as long as there's a sinew- 
 In the Yankees' big thumbs. 
 
 Saturday^ May 30, i8gb. 
 
 All roors Dav. 
 
 HTHIS is April Fool's Day, 
 ^ I'd have everybody know ; 
 
 The people are very gay. 
 To fool one another they go. 
 
 The door-bell has just rung ; 
 
 John has gone to the door, 
 And open wide it he flung, 
 
 He got a letter, by gor. 
 
 He soon opened the letter ; 
 
 On its pages wasn't a word written ; 
 It was only a white sheet of paper ; 
 
 Then his cheeks began to redden. 
 
 On the other side of the street 
 A lady walked with a spring bonnet ; 
 
 She was as white as a sheet, 
 And was singing a sonnet. 
 
 John saw her as she went by ; 
 
 She sent the letter, he thought. 
 Then he began to ruminate and sigh, 
 
 Because she hadn't sent a jot. 
 
CHILDHOOD DAYS. 53 
 
 So now I'll write an answer; 
 
 This question : " Will you marry me?" 
 Then his face colored as a cancer, 
 
 And he sent it to she. 
 
 History doesn't develop 
 Whether the answer ever came, 
 
 So will put the story in an envelope. 
 And the ending' 11 all be the same. 
 
 Wednesday, April i, i8qb. 
 
 Childhood Davs. 
 
 I OFTEN think of my childhood days, 
 As around the hearth I played ; 
 Peering at the back-log in a blaze, 
 As before the fire I laid. 
 
 I frequently think of my walks 
 
 Along the tortuous brook, 
 And all my little talks, 
 
 When my father along with him took. 
 
 The pewee's nest in the spring-house shed 
 
 Had four little eggs in it just. 
 In which the old bird its young bred. 
 
 As from under its wings their heads thrust. 
 
 A guinea did hatch its young, 
 In some far away by-place, 
 
54 RHYTHMIC FLASHES. 
 
 Where it never even sung, 
 Nor could you e'er it trace. 
 
 The pigeon was sitting in its nest, 
 
 As under it I might creep ; 
 There the lice the nest did infest, 
 
 As into its box I'd peep. 
 
 The whip-poorwill sat on the ground 
 And hatched out its little ones ; 
 
 But it'd fly noisily around, 
 
 As past there I'd go in my daily runs. 
 
 The trout in the spring were spotted, 
 
 And they were very wild. 
 As around in the water they floated ; 
 
 When I couldn't catch them I was roiled. 
 
 The honey bees were busy all day 
 Gathering sweets from the blossoms. 
 
 Till dim twilight came in its gray. 
 Then they were quiet as 'possums. 
 
 Father gander' d give me a rap 
 With its wings when little expected, 
 
 Then the geese' d hollow and their wings flap, 
 Then father gander' d be respected. 
 
THE OLD FARM HOUSE. 55 
 
 The cock every hour'd crow, 
 
 And'd be answered away over yonder ; 
 
 During cold nights when it might snow, 
 
 But the time through the day he'd squander. 
 
 Friday, August 23, i8qS. 
 
 The Old rarm House. 
 
 nPHE old farm house that long ago was built, 
 ■'• Was standing on the hillside near the spring, 
 Where the poultry for market was killed, 
 And my parents on a Sabbath used to sing. 
 
 On the old crane in the corner called the chimney, 
 A big copper kettle of apple butter was suspended ; 
 
 My father stirred the butter, and his name wasn't 
 Sydney, 
 And to this crane were many other things appended. 
 
 A big back log was used in the corner for fuel, 
 
 With other wood that was placed on the andirons ; 
 
 To burn your fingers then would be cruel. 
 
 But that was where the cooking was done by our 
 sirens ( sires ). 
 
 A big ten-plate stove stood on the kitchen floor. 
 And in it there was scarcely ever any fire ; 
 But esthetically it was an eye-sore. 
 And one who'd say otherwise was a liar. 
 
56 RHYTHMIC FLASHES. 
 
 In front of the house was a willow tree weeping, 
 But the storm made its branches lash ; 
 
 My mother often stood under it sweeping, 
 
 But a limb off it might come down with a crash. 
 
 Near by the house ran a stream of water, 
 
 I used to wade into it to the tops of my boots. 
 
 When I wet my feet it made my teeth chatter. 
 But I'd usually hold onto some roots. 
 
 From the spring a streamlet flowed that formed a spout, 
 And before breakfast in the morning there I'd go, 
 
 And wash my face before I took my daily scout ; 
 At night when I came home my face was all aglow. 
 
 Then, there was a machine called the cider-press. 
 And in it first the apples were ground ; 
 
 Then the ground apples were put under a compress, 
 And the cider ran into a barrel that was round. 
 
 The Meeting House on the Hill. 
 
 T^HE meeting house on the hill, 
 ^ Near the village of Guthrieville, 
 Where on a Sabbath we attended. 
 The hand of fellowship was extended. 
 
 Those who worshipped there then, 
 All, including old women and men, 
 
THE MEETING HOUSE ON THE HILL. 57 
 
 Their pictures are in my mind, 
 Their friendship they never declined. 
 
 There many happy hours we spent, 
 When to the meeting house we went, 
 Or before service in the shade, 
 As around about we did parade. 
 
 That was when we were young. 
 And when hymns were sung, 
 When the weather was very fine, 
 And we all walked home in line. 
 
 So why should we worry. 
 Or get into a great flurry, 
 About the doom of humanity. 
 For it mayn't be a calamity. 
 
 With our lot we must be satisfied, 
 For we can't be classified ; 
 We must abide by the way of world, 
 And into eternity be hurled. 
 
 Wednesday, October 24, iSqS- 
 
58 RHYTHMIC FLASHES. 
 
 Natal Place. 
 
 A BOUT those scenes I often meditate, 
 ^^ As the years they roll around, 
 And I often stop or hesitate, 
 Of the dear ones in the ground. 
 
 Their lives I've always cherished, 
 
 Where'er I chanced to roam, 
 And I sigh that they have perished, 
 
 As the years pass — in the gloam. 
 
 I frequently visit the cemetery, 
 
 And their names I read on the tomb. 
 
 But there is only one commentary. 
 They are dead and worms consume. 
 
 There, there was a schoolmate I loved. 
 Now I only see him with my mind's eye, 
 
 But the vision of him is gloved 
 By the years that've past for aye. 
 
 Among them was a sweetheart, 
 
 To be in company with I was proud ; 
 
 To resurrect her now is beyond art. 
 Hence since I have been in a cloud. 
 
 There, there was a dear mother who was kind, 
 That yonder, too, lies under the sod ; 
 
 The years of my pleasures with her are behind. 
 Hence the future alone I'll have to trod. 
 
IV. B. GUSHING. 59 
 
 Father also is buried under yon tombstone, 
 His familiar form I see as of yore, 
 
 His weight was only about ten stone, 
 But he has long since gone on before. 
 
 My old teacher, too, lies there, 
 
 Under yonder green sod ; 
 Also the preacher without care, 
 
 Is lying under yon cold clod. 
 
 The doctor there never dies 
 
 There, there are none in the ground, 
 
 Hence there, there is not one lies, 
 So he must still his mortar pound. 
 
 March i, tSgS. 
 
 W. B. Gushing. 
 
 SINKING THE ALBEMARLE, OCTOBER 28, 1864. 
 
 piGHTKEN hundred and sixty-four, 
 •'— ' October twenty-seventh, one day more, 
 W. B. Gushing the Albemarle destroyed. 
 Which the Confederates much annoyed. 
 He steamed up the Roanoke 
 In a launch with little smoke. 
 On a very, very dark night. 
 And put some Rebs to flight. 
 
6o RHYTHMIC FLASHES. 
 
 With a torpedo the ram he sunk 
 
 From the launch, and he wasn't drunk ; 
 
 Into the river Gushing sprung, 
 
 Where many others of the crew themselves 
 
 flung. 
 Gushing swam down the river. 
 And then he commenced to shiver, 
 Till he reached the shore below Plymouth, 
 And lie there till the night cometh. 
 
 Then he took to the woods 
 
 And walked for several roods, 
 
 Till he found a Rebel dug-out, 
 
 And then paddled himself the Roanoke route. 
 
 On the Valley Gity he soon got, 
 
 And told us all how he had fought. 
 
 The fleet commander ordered him three cheers, 
 
 And then and there Gushing had no peers. 
 
 June /o, i8gs. 
 
 Rain. 
 
 T^HE rain comes down in drops, 
 * But when it strikes the ground, 
 Its downward motion stops. 
 Then it has a rebound. 
 
 The day is dark and gloomy, 
 
 However the rain comes down fast. 
 
 But the earth is large and roomy, 
 All day the rain is likely to last. 
 
THE OLD MAN. 6 1 
 
 It makes the grass greener, 
 
 And will fill up the streams, 
 But the atmosphere will be serener, 
 
 When the sun again beams. 
 
 The corn will have renewed life, 
 
 'Twill make larger ears, 
 But must contend with the element's strife, 
 
 And this is so in the passing years. 
 
 Without rain there'd be no vegetation, 
 
 It would cease to grow ; 
 But such is not God's dispensation, 
 
 If so the streamlets' d cease to flow. 
 
 jFulyS,i8gS. 
 
 The Old Man. 
 
 TJK is old, he is old, 
 ^ ^ So he has been told ; 
 His whiskers are grayed. 
 
 And his teeth are decayed. 
 His step is very frail. 
 
 But he is fond of quail. 
 And so he is, so he is. 
 
 He is, he is, he is, he is. 
 He carries a cane, 
 
 And can't see plain, 
 Kven with strong glasses. 
 
 Not even the lads and lasses. 
 
62 RHYTHMIC FLASHES. 
 
 On his pate is a spot bare, 
 
 His face is wrinkled with care ; 
 His voice is cracked, 
 
 And that is a fact. 
 His hand, his hand, shakes, 
 
 On it are old age flakes ; 
 But he remembers his mother, 
 
 And that memory he can't smother. 
 
 June 20, i8gS. 
 
 The Old Oak Tree. 
 
 'T^HE old oak tree in the forest 
 ^ Had grown to be a giant. 
 The bird on its branch was its chorist, 
 And the tree of the wind was defiant. 
 
 The fall wind blew through its branches 
 And caused them many a creak, 
 
 So there were many blanches 
 
 In the leaves before they got sick. 
 
 The acorns came down straight, 
 And they on the ground fell ; 
 
 The herds of swine eagerly ,them ate, 
 Then they ran away pell-mell. 
 
 The leaves tumbled to the ground, 
 As the snow was driven white, 
 
THE OLD OAK TREE. 63 
 
 And the wind'd blow them around, 
 Then you could see a weird sight. 
 
 In summer the tree did shade 
 
 The green grass underneath ; 
 There near by started a glade, 
 
 And close by was a heath. 
 
 The zephyr breeze of summer 
 
 Made the leaves gently rustle. 
 And you couldn't hear a murmur, 
 
 Much less disturb a muscle. 
 
 On this green sward you'd often sleep, 
 And then you'd likely dream. 
 
 As nobody there' d even peep. 
 
 But you might wake up with a scream. 
 
 Under this oak I often meditated, 
 In the place that was so weird. 
 
 And there frequently contemplated 
 Of the times I most feared. 
 
 Since I sat under that oak tree, 
 Has been forty years or more ; 
 
 Now the wind blows around it more free 
 And the rain on it doth pour. 
 
64 RHYTHMIC FLASHES. 
 
 But it remains just as green 
 As when I sat under it a boy ; 
 
 And from the sun it me did screen 
 But I did this much enjoy. 
 
 March 6, i8qS. 
 
 The New Year. 
 
 "\1 ZE'VE come to the new year 
 
 ' '^ Eighteen hundred and ninety-six, 
 And we have some fear 
 
 That the next we can' t our names affix. 
 
 What we've done in the past 
 
 Is on the credit side of our account, 
 
 This account will always last 
 
 Till to the other world we mount. 
 
 The good we've done here 
 
 Will always be remembered 
 By Him who sees from There, 
 
 Till our lives are surrendered. 
 
 Many dear ones have departed 
 
 During the time the year measured, 
 
 We hope to Heaven have darted, 
 And with the angels are treasured. 
 
 Thus the fleeting years go by 
 As we live in this earthly sphere, 
 
LOVE. 65 
 
 And as they pass we sigh, 
 
 There'll not many more appear. 
 
 yanuary /, i8qb. 
 
 Love. 
 
 'T^IS love that bursts the prison lock, 
 
 * That sets the prisoner free ; 
 It crosses oceans or strands the rock, 
 When the rock is in its lee. 
 
 It opens up the citadel, 
 
 Or mounts upon its rampart ; 
 No matter how critical, 
 
 The danger may impart. 
 
 The mountains are no obstacle, 
 
 Nor the rivers on its way ; 
 These don't deter it a particle, 
 
 For it there's no delay. 
 
 It makes a person a hero, 
 
 And for it he'll fight; 
 But it never made a Nero ; 
 
 We view it in a different light. 
 
 It breaks the bonds of friendship, 
 
 'Twill not listen to no ; 
 Of those who are the guardianship, 
 
 And of dangers it don't know. 
 
 Thursday^ February 6, 7596. 
 
66 RHYTHMIC FLASHES. 
 
 The Old Country Tavern. 
 
 DID you ever observe the old tavern 
 That was standing on a hill ? 
 Sometimes 'twas called an inn, 
 But the liquors in it were very thin. 
 Did you witness the old sign 
 That sometimes looked very fine 
 As 'twas swinging in the wind, 
 And near it stood the landlord very kind ? 
 
 Have you seen the colored man 
 That had quite a pretty plan 
 To water the horses very well 
 From a never-ceasing well ? 
 For this duty he usually got a fip 
 That into his pocket he did slip, 
 When the horses were satisfied, 
 And the driver was gratified. 
 
 Do you remember the landlady, 
 
 Walking on the back porch that was shady, 
 
 When she looked so very neat. 
 
 And her manners they were complete ? 
 
 Did you ever walk up to the bar, 
 
 And there a glass of whiskey with tansy prefer ? 
 
 Then the landlord' d hand it out. 
 
 But another glass you'd even scout. 
 
 Of course there you've got your dinner, 
 And you didn't think yourself a sinner, 
 
GRANDMOTHER'S CLOCK. 67 
 
 When you the pretty landlady spied, 
 And you continually her with one eye eyed. 
 You may have examined the bar-room 
 Of a Saturday night in the gloom, 
 When a light was burning from a candle, 
 And in that room there was much scandal. 
 
 In that bar-room you have seen the loafers 
 That from inn to inn were rovers, 
 And were always ready to take a drink, 
 Though their families in poverty were on the 
 
 brink. 
 Yes, all this we saw in years gone by, 
 But the landlord now don't supply 
 In that way accommodation to his guest, 
 He does the most and that's the best. 
 
 March 4, i8qS. 
 
 Grandmother's Clock 
 
 MY grandmother's clock 
 That in the corner ticked, 
 The pendulum was under lock, 
 As the old clock clicked. 
 
 On its face was a ship 
 
 That tossed one way, then the other, 
 Till the day it did slip. 
 
 But 'twas no bother. 
 
68 RHYTHMIC FLASHES. 
 
 The moon showed on the clock's face, 
 
 Whether 'twas new or old, 
 But it appeared with much grace, 
 
 Kven when its days grew fourfold. 
 
 On its face showed the month's age 
 
 In summer and winter both ; 
 The temperature the clock seemed to assuage, 
 
 To do otherwise it'd loath. 
 
 The clock every hour struck 
 
 The day and year round, 
 In telling the time it never stuck. 
 
 And was never idle found. 
 
 That clock to-day stands 
 
 As in the years past ; 
 On it are the same demands. 
 
 And it can't be surpassed. 
 
 March 14, i8qS. 
 
 Grandfathers Clock 
 
 T^HE old clock stood in the corner of the room, 
 * And was about ten or eleven feet tall ; 
 That tall we might thereabouts assume, 
 And 'twas no trouble to anybody at all. 
 
 It had been standing there many years, 
 And is no taller than of yore ; 
 
TREATMENT OF DIPHTHERIA. 69 
 
 Of its growing taller there isn't any fears, 
 Nor is there danger of its hands getting sore. 
 
 The face showed the time of the month and year, 
 
 Also on it could be seen a ship at sea, 
 And these the pendulum would well obey, 
 
 And they always on the face one could see. 
 
 March iS, i8qS. 
 
 Methods of TreatmcQt of Dlphtrierla In me 
 Last Thirty Years. 
 
 pvIPHTHBRIA is an infectious disease, 
 ■■-^ And is not much on the decrease ; 
 It very frequently attacks the larynx. 
 But oftener, as is well known, the pharynx. 
 
 The Klebs-Loffler bacillus is the cause. 
 And it works surreptitiously, because 
 The false membrane is not apt to be seen. 
 As the bacilli work upon the membrane scene. 
 
 There was a time when emetics were given 
 For the purpose the false membrane to riven ( rid- 
 den ), 
 As it spread swiftly onward as it was produced. 
 But yet it was seldom or never reduced. 
 
 At another time calomel was resurrected. 
 To be given in large doses as directed, 
 
70 RHYTHMIC FLASHES. 
 
 And it very often did its work, 
 As the false membrane it did lurk. 
 
 Then the tinctura ferri chloridi we were taught, 
 Would the disease's onward progress throt. 
 But sometimes in this we were harassed, 
 When the patient had not convalesced. 
 
 Chlorate of potash, too, was a remedy 
 That has been tried in this dreadful malady ; 
 And, too, we were often deceived in that, 
 When our patient's heart-beats grew more flat. 
 
 Then the mercuric chlorid, we were told 
 Would the exudation hold ; 
 Then the false membrane' d soon peel, 
 And the patient's throat would heal. 
 
 All these remedies we have tried, 
 But they have often hurt our pride, 
 When the patient ceased to breathe. 
 And we couldn't a remedy bequeath. 
 
 Other remedies are legion that have been used, 
 But among them yet' ve not been — as perused. 
 Found a single one that'd cure 
 The ofttimes fatal malady — that was sure. 
 
THE OLD FORGE. 71 
 
 Then came the antitoxin through the horse, 
 That has been lauded on its course ; 
 But in this remedy we too sanguine may be, 
 Before we are fully acquainted with its decree. 
 
 To use the remedy, in the back we squirt. 
 
 By a syringe in a spirt, 
 
 A little antitoxin, more or less, 
 
 And then wait, watch and confess. 
 
 Whether the remedy is the thing 
 
 That will prevention to the effects of the toxin 
 
 bring ; 
 If it does not prove to be such a source, 
 We'll not fold our arms, of course. 
 
 February 6, z8q5. 
 
 The Old rorge. 
 
 T N that old forge was a trip-hammer 
 ^ That was forced up and down. 
 And it made a great clamor 
 About the time of sundown. 
 
 The place was a busy one, 
 
 When the bars of iron were forged out, 
 And the money that it won 
 
 During the many years throughout. 
 
72 
 
 RHYTHMIC FLASHES. 
 
 The men they were always happy, 
 And the women they were chatty ; 
 
 The trees were sometimes sappy, 
 And the scenery was pretty. 
 
 The water-wheel made manj^ a turn 
 
 In the years past and gone ; 
 But now there is no concern 
 
 About the ground the forge stood on. 
 
 The water-wheel at present lies on its side, 
 And bats build their nests in it now ; 
 
 The race that turned it then is dried, 
 And on its bottom lies an old plow. 
 
 The water has all run out of the dam. 
 And you can plainly see the ground 
 
 On which there lived many clam, 
 And now is run o'er by a hound. 
 
 The roof of the old forge is fallen in, 
 And its walls appear very desolate ; 
 
 On its foundation ground there is not a pin, 
 And everything around is disconsolate. 
 
 March 2, z8qS. 
 
DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE. 73 
 
 Declaration of Independence. 
 
 INDEPENDENCE was declared 
 
 ^ Seventeen hundred and seventy-six, 
 
 When the British on all sides cared, 
 
 When patriots their names to the instrument did 
 affix. 
 
 Then war with Great Britain commenced 
 
 And continued seven long years ; 
 The Americans with their strong arm fenced 
 
 The English out of this country with spears. 
 
 George Washington led the army, 
 
 And he and other patriots heroically fought ; 
 Many times 'twas very stormy, 
 
 Whilst the Americans the English a lesson 
 taught. 
 
 Arnold turned to be a traitor. 
 
 And made himself an oiBfender 
 To all American soldiers and sailor. 
 
 Who fought and were America's defender. 
 
 yune rj, i8gS. 
 
74 
 
 RHYTHMIC FLASHES. 
 
 The Doctor. 
 
 'X'HE patient is sick in bed, 
 ■^ The doctor by his side sits ; 
 By the pulse, respiration and temperature, is led 
 To give a name to the ailment that fits. 
 
 When the diagnosis is made 
 
 A suitable remedy is selected, 
 That away in his storehouse of knowledge is laid, 
 
 So that the patient's health may be protected. 
 
 There are many drugs from which to select. 
 But verj^ few remedies are in stock ; 
 
 The right drug is difficult to detect, 
 
 When it is found it may be given by the clock. 
 
 Outside of drugs much may be done for the pa- 
 tient's benefit ; 
 The head on the pillow may be made lower ; 
 At the midnight hour the gas may be lit, 
 
 Or on the patient's head cold water he may 
 pour. 
 
 yune iSy i8qS. 
 
 Sweet, Sweet Home. 
 
 SWEET home, sweet home. 
 Is there any place so sw^eet 
 As sweet, sweet home, 
 With a kind, loving wife ? 
 
SWEET, SWEET HOME. 75 
 
 'Tisn't walls of brick and stone 
 
 That makes sweet,' sweet home. 
 It needs something more to atone, 
 
 To make sweet, sweet home. 
 'Tis a kind father and mother there 
 
 That makes sweet, sweet home ; 
 'Tis brothers and sisters fair, 
 
 That make sweet, sweet home. 
 'Tis loving children, girls and boys, 
 
 That make sweet, sweet home, 
 With their playthings and toys. 
 
 That make sweet, sweet home. 
 'Tis robust people free from ills, 
 
 That make sweet, sweet home. 
 Without any doctor bills, 
 
 That make sweet, sweet home. 
 'Tis with a fine team of horses to ride, 
 
 That makes sweet, sweet home. 
 With all the wants satisfied. 
 
 That make sweet, sweet home. 
 'Tis a Christian, God-fearing family. 
 
 That makes sweet, sweet home ; 
 That hasn't committed any sins really, 
 
 That makes sweet, sweet home. 
 
 Friday, December 4, iSqb. , 
 
76 
 
 RHYTHMIC FLASHES. 
 
 Thantegiving. 
 
 OLORD ! we thank Thee for Thy kindness, 
 For all Thou hast done for us the past year ; 
 To do otherwise would be blindness, 
 In this we are entirely sincere. 
 
 We appreciate Thou art omnipotent ; 
 
 We know Thou'U help him who helps himself; 
 This Thou' 11 do to a large extent, 
 
 Otherwise Thou'U bestow no pelf. 
 
 We are very poor, weak mortals ; 
 
 We may ask of Thee too much. 
 Between Thee and us are death's portals, 
 
 But Thy views mayn't be such. 
 
 Continue Thy blessings a little longer. 
 
 Till our lives come to an end ; 
 Then our faith in Thee may be stronger, 
 
 And to our soul's welfare we may better attend. 
 
 November zb, i8q7. 
 
 Cooper's Rocks. 
 
 'T^O Cooper's Rocks we all started, 
 ■^ Our pathway lay along blazed trees, 
 And we scarcely ever parted. 
 
 For we were fearful rattlers be on sprees. 
 
 We journeyed along the route 
 Till we arrived at Rock City, 
 
IN THE GLEN. 
 
 And there we didn't see a root 
 Of a blazed tree, and that was a pity. 
 
 Then we by the same path returned, 
 But Cooper's Rocks we weren't at ; 
 
 This through a friend we learned. 
 
 When at dinner at Brown's hotel we sat. 
 
 March IJ, i8gS. 
 
 In the Glen. 
 
 DID you ever walk along a ravine 
 Through which a streamlet flowed, 
 Where great big rocks did careen. 
 And in the distance the cock crowed ? 
 
 On the rocks had gathered moss, 
 And on them were creeping vine. 
 
 But when the rocks you'd attempt to cross, 
 You'd have all your strength to combine. 
 
 Have you listened to the birds sing 
 
 In the place that was so weird, 
 When a squirrel from a tree'd spring, 
 
 While in the stream a fish you speared ? 
 
 On a summer day the place was cool, 
 
 There on a rock you might sit. 
 Whilst near by might be a pool 
 
 Which the rays of sun through branches lit. 
 
 77 
 
78 RHYTHMIC FLASHES. 
 
 This we did in days long since past, 
 
 But now those scenes we only see with our 
 mind's eye, 
 
 When our thoughts to the long ago is cast, 
 But we often revert to them with a sigh. 
 
 March so, i8qS. 
 
 The Old Conestoga Wagon. 
 
 T^HE Conestoga wagon that was used 
 ^ At the time when I was a boy, 
 Along the highway it might be perused, 
 And the toll-gate was its decoy. 
 
 It had four broad wheels that were strong, 
 And the covering of it was white ; 
 
 The bells on the six horses played a song, 
 Whilst the other teams were out of sight. 
 
 Each team a driver had. 
 
 And the number of teams were about twenty ; 
 The drivers were warmly clad, 
 
 And they and their horses had provisions 
 plenty. 
 
 At the country tavern at which they stopped 
 They fed themselves and their horses ; 
 
 Then into bed the drivers flopped. 
 
 And at breakfast they had many courses. 
 
SNAKE. 
 
 These teams transported merchandise 
 
 From place to place afar, 
 And didn't travel through Paradise, 
 
 Nor did they go as fast as a car. 
 
 The drivers had plenty of fun 
 
 At the tavern at which they congregated, 
 With the stories which they spun, 
 
 Till the morning, when they segregated. 
 
 These teams as along the highway they went, 
 They presented a beautiful scene ; 
 
 As much time in observing them was spent 
 By the people afar and near was seen. 
 
 March 4, /8gs. 
 
 79 
 
 O 
 
 Snake. 
 
 |N a rock ledge 
 
 A snake we did see ; 
 To kill it I did pledge 
 
 Mary, that was with me. 
 With a long pole 
 
 I struck it on the back, 
 And thereon made a hole, 
 
 For it was on our track. 
 Then we took it across the river. 
 
 And then it showed life ; 
 This made me shiver, 
 
 Then I killed it with a knife. 
 
 March 14, i^gs. 
 
8o RHYTHMIC FLASHES. 
 
 The Ocean. 
 
 T^HE waves of old ocean 
 *- Rush toward the shore, 
 And make a great commotion, 
 As they've ofttimes done before, 
 
 By the whitecaps're distinguished, 
 As they swell up and down. 
 
 But they're soon extinguished, 
 As they near the groun' . 
 
 Ships mount their crest 
 As they sail on their way. 
 
 And are never at rest 
 As they to and fro sway. 
 
 Friday, August 6, tSqj. 
 
 The Old Blacksmith Shop In the Country. 
 
 T OFTEN think of the blacksmith shop 
 ^ In which a blacksmith did work ; 
 A leather apron he wore the sparks to stop, 
 But the hot cinders round him did often lurk. 
 
 The hammer on the anvil he struck 
 With all his main strength, 
 
 And it was real good luck 
 That the sledge fell at length. 
 
THE OLD BLACKSMITH SHOP. 8i 
 
 For the bar of iron was soon shaped 
 
 To take a useful place, 
 And many accidents were 'scaped 
 
 When the weak part he'd 'rase. 
 
 The horse was standing in the shed 
 
 To have his four feet shod ; 
 Then he'd be hitched to a sled, 
 
 And fast home he'd trod. 
 
 The farmers the country round 
 
 Would gather there and stories tell. 
 
 Whilst the anvil the smith' d pound, 
 Till the sun to the horizon had fell. 
 
 Then all'd to their homes go. 
 
 And into bed they slipped 
 After supper, which they didn't forego, 
 
 And into sleep they soon dipped. 
 
 The old blacksmith shop 
 
 A wreck it now stands, 
 Which is overgrown with a crop 
 
 Of creeping vines which it thickly strands. 
 
 The smith and farmers' ve gone to their graves, 
 
 And under the earth do lie ; 
 They are no longer in any way slaves, 
 
 Nor do they see the sparks from the red-hot 
 iron fly. 
 
 March 7, i8q5. 
 
82 RHYTHMIC FLASHES. 
 
 To Sister Marv. 
 
 I\ A ARY has gone to the skies 
 ^ ' *^ To be forever at rest, 
 Where there'll be no more sighs, 
 And she'll rest on Jesus' breast. 
 
 To that place we hope to go 
 When life's fitful fever is o'er. 
 
 Where there'll be no tears to flow, 
 And we'll in Heaven soar. 
 
 Monday, August 22, z8q8. 
 
 Life. 
 
 ** In summer we faint, 
 In winter we chill, 
 With ever a void 
 
 That is yet to be filled." 
 
 LIFE is a constant stream, 
 It begins when the ovum is fructified. 
 Then continues with the cell, 
 
 And in mankind it doth dwell. 
 It runs in rapid speed 
 
 From the cradle to the grave. 
 But faster than this it can't exceed, 
 And it is a constant slave. 
 
 'Tis supported by what we eat, 
 To make us sufiicient blood ; 
 
THE NORMAL MAPLE TREES. 83 
 
 And these demands we can't defeat, 
 
 For it must the cells flood ; 
 By the many heart strokes 
 
 That are numbered seventy-two, 
 But these are our life-spokes, 
 
 Every minute we exist, too. 
 
 The Normal Maple Trees Have Grown. 
 
 MILLERSVILLE, PA. 
 
 THE Normal maples were planted 
 In eighteen hundred and fifty-eight ; 
 About that time it may be granted, 
 
 But about the year we'll not contend, at any 
 rate. 
 
 The maple trees have grown 
 
 In the years that have passed, 
 As by observation may be shown. 
 
 Their rapid growth could' nt be surpassed. 
 
 For they around the butts measure 
 
 Ten feet thereabouts, or more, 
 And they are to all a great treasure, 
 
 These facts we cannot ignore. 
 
84 RHYTHMIC FLASHES. 
 
 Where are the boys and girls 
 That around them used to play ? 
 
 As time since has had many swirls, 
 That they are happy we do pray. 
 
 In summer the campus is covered by their 
 shade ; 
 And there the girls and boys study their 
 lessons, 
 As from tree to tree they may parade, 
 And in their shade to sit are great blessin's. 
 
 And where is the young lady 
 
 Who wrote " When the Normal trees are 
 grown," 
 For she was not at all old maidy, 
 
 But since many years have flown. 
 
 April 14, i8qS. 
 
 The rail. 
 
 Suggested^ by foggy days and dried up rivers around 
 Pittsburgh, Pa. 
 
 T^HE fall with its leaves of gold, 
 ■^ And an atmosphere crispy and cold. 
 Is now upon us in season, 
 Change of season is the reason. 
 
THE TURKEY GOBBLER. 
 
 Vegetation is withered in its foliage, 
 As in the fall it appears from age to age, 
 Has been so from early recollection, 
 So 'twill impress us by reflection. 
 
 The foggy days of November, 
 Which always precede December, 
 Hide the broad face of the sun, 
 As days from hour to hour run. 
 
 The rivers are extremely low. 
 The water has ceased to flow ; 
 The river boats are fast aground. 
 These we can see as we walk around. 
 
 Engineers and motormen can't see, 
 The cars into one another flee ; 
 Arms and legs are thereby broken, 
 For of danger there is no token. 
 
 Monday, November 4, i8qS. 
 
 The Turkey Gobbler. 
 
 jy^YOUCK, kyouck, voiced the gobbler turkey, 
 ^^ As round on the ground he spurt ; 
 The hens, indeed, were very lucky. 
 If around about them he didn't flirt. 
 
 85 
 
86 RHYTHMIC FLASHES. 
 
 His neck was as red as vermilion, 
 
 His feathers all stood on ends ; 
 He was the proudest one in a million, 
 
 And among the females had many friends. 
 
 His carriage the females admired, 
 
 As he circled on the ground ; 
 And they scarcely ever got tired 
 
 At gazing at him as he strutted round. 
 
 Thursday, October lO, i8gS. 
 
 Point Lookout Mountain. 
 
 Suggested by standing on the top of Point Lookout Mountain, 
 Thursday, May ^ih, i8g6. 
 
 FROM Point Lookout Mountain, 
 Twenty-seven hundred feet high. 
 May be seen a landscape curtain, 
 lyike mackerel clouds in the sky. 
 
 On the right is Missionary Ridge, 
 
 On the left Point Lookout Mountain spur. 
 
 Across the Tennessee river is a bridge, 
 But you can't see a cur. 
 
 The aspect is like a panorama. 
 Overlooking the river Tennessee, 
 
THE OLD CHURCH. 87 
 
 Not unlike a cyclorama, 
 
 As the clouds whirl by we see. 
 
 Chattanooga looms up in the distance, 
 
 Sherman Heights farther on ; 
 History records many an instance 
 
 Within view battles were fought and won. 
 
 The Tennessee river forms a bend, 
 Resembling the Indian moccasin ; 
 
 To the beauty of the scene it may lend, 
 To study the scene is a lesson. 
 
 Here Hooker fought a battle in the cloud, 
 Where the Confederates were whipt, 
 
 And where the cannons were loud, 
 Then away to Missionary Ridge they skipt. 
 
 Sunday, May 31, iSqt). 
 
 The Old Church. 
 
 WELL do I remember the church on the hill, 
 At which when a boy every Sabbath we did at- 
 tend, 
 And people about lo A. m. o'clock did fill, 
 But for seats front they didn't contend. 
 There were no cushions on the seats then, 
 And the seats of course were very plain. 
 One side of the church was occupied by men. 
 And the women on the other side didn't complain. 
 
88 RHYTHMIC FLASHES. 
 
 On the floor there were no carpets spread at all, 
 
 And in prayer the congregation went on their knees ; 
 Sometimes among them were people very tall, 
 
 And during service they couldn't do as they please. 
 The pulpit was placed above the floor high, 
 
 And was reached by a pair of winding stairs. 
 The minister who preached was very spry. 
 
 And about Hades might cause many scares. 
 
 Around the church was plenty of shade, 
 
 And in summer 'twas pleasant there to sit ; 
 Near there started a long glade, 
 
 As over your head a bird might flit. 
 In this shade the people often met 
 
 And conversed about various things ; 
 From their faces they often wiped sweat. 
 
 As they gathered there they stood in rings. 
 
 Near the church were lying the dead, 
 
 Whose graves were marked by tombstones ; 
 To go into the graveyard we did much dread. 
 
 But from the dead we didn't hear groans. 
 Some there had been dead a hundred years. 
 
 And their epitaphs on the stones had become dim, 
 But for them there may have been shed many tears. 
 
 Now the number of tears shed has become very slim. 
 
 March i8, i8q5. 
 
MO WING IN HAR VEST. 89 
 
 Mowing in Harvest. 
 
 DID you ever see a farmer mow ? 
 Ten strong men'd mow in a row, 
 Very jolly all day they'd be, 
 And by no means none'd disagree. 
 
 Mowing was hard work for the men, 
 And when night came they'd say amen ; 
 They'd then go home tired but jolly, 
 And so would the water carrier, Mollie. 
 
 At the side of the field they'd whet 
 
 Their scythes and wipe from their faces sweat, 
 
 And very funny stories they'd tell. 
 
 Thus they mow, whet and sweat, till the sun fell. 
 
 A ten o'clock piece was brought out by girl, 
 On the ground a table cloth she'd swirl, 
 And then the men'd all heartily eat. 
 On the grass from a tree not many feet. 
 
 These men mow I've watched often. 
 And my heart for them did soften ; 
 They often stopped to take a cool drink, 
 Or on their scythes lean and think. 
 
 But now grass in that way isn't cut, 
 A mowing machine is in the field put, 
 And is drawn by two or four horses, 
 Which around the field makes many courses. 
 
 March 8, i8gS. 
 
90 RHYTHMIC FLASHES. 
 
 Water Carrier yWollie. 
 
 QHK comes, she comes, she's comin', 
 ^ She comes, she's comin' through the rye 
 With a bucket of cold water from a spring nigh, 
 Here she comes, she's comin'. 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 Oh, Mollie ! she has come, she has come 
 
 With a bucket of cold water, 
 Carried by a farmer's pretty daughter, 
 
 Through the rye, she has come, she has come. 
 
 Mollie with a white apron on, 
 
 Tied round her charming waist ; 
 As she smiles she looks so chaste, 
 
 The pretty dimples in her cheeks you see 
 thereon. 
 Chorus. 
 
 How smilingly she gives you water ; 
 
 As you swallow it, 'tis refreshing. 
 Through your system it goes flushing, 
 
 As you admire a farmer's pretty daughter. 
 Chorus. 
 
 July 2, iSgS. 
 
My BIR THDA Y. 91 
 
 Life. 
 
 T IFE is rapid in its flight, 
 
 ^ And is earnest in its demands ; 
 
 We should be up and doing for the right, 
 
 As is ever changeful ocean's sands. 
 We should strive to do good 
 
 In our vigor and in our strength ; 
 On this principle philosophers have stood, 
 
 All along the world's history at length. 
 
 We should strive others happy to make. 
 
 As we tread along life's route, 
 And should live for their sake, 
 
 This should be life's pursuit, 
 lyife is changeful in its scenes, 
 
 As the years they pass away, 
 And the earth has its spleens. 
 
 But oftener there's a bright ray. 
 
 Friday, October J8, i8gb. 
 
 Mv Birthday. 
 
 T^HIS is my birthday fifty-eighth, 
 ■'■ And that is extremely many. 
 So the record in the Bible saith, 
 And some of them have been rainy. 
 
 These are our mile-stones on the road, 
 
 And in life they all count ; 
 This world'U not always be our abode, 
 
 By and by from it we'll have to mount. 
 
92 RHYTHMIC FLASHES. 
 
 From the day on which I was born, 
 To the present many changes there be, 
 
 And many dear ones from me have been torn, 
 But this always has been life's decree. 
 
 Since from a few millions to seventy 
 The country in which I live has grown, 
 
 And the population is increasing plenty. 
 As by statistics is well shown. 
 
 The steam engine and telegraph have been im- 
 proved ; 
 Steamships have increased their speed ; 
 We haven't been going in a track that was 
 grooved ; 
 This we'll all very proudly concede. 
 
 Across the ocean has been laid the cable, 
 And cars are now run by electricity ; 
 
 These achievements to many are inexplicable, 
 And their prophesy might have been pro- 
 nounced eccentricity. 
 
 The microscope has been brought nearer per- 
 fection, 
 
 By it has been discovered the disease germ. 
 That is the cause of many affection. 
 
 To these truths we must all affirm. 
 
SLEIGHING. 
 
 Many other discoveries have been made 
 In my day and in my generation, 
 
 But our efforts' 11 not be aside laid, 
 
 For nearer perfection is our destination. 
 
 April ig, i8qS. 
 
 Sleighing. 
 
 r^ID you ever go a sleighing 
 ■■— ^ In a two-horse sled, 
 While the bells on the horses were playing, 
 As along the road tHey sped ? 
 
 Did your hands ever get cold driving. 
 
 And become very numb ; 
 Then you'd be continually striving 
 
 For them warmer to become ? 
 
 Were you ever in the snow upset ? 
 
 Then you were sort of canny, 
 But when you to your homes did get. 
 
 You may have been clanny. 
 
 Did your sled ever stick 
 
 At the bottom of a creek, 
 And you'd give your horses a lick ? 
 
 Then the old sled'd squeak. 
 
 Did you ever run a race 
 And get very much beat ? 
 
 93 
 
94 RHYTHMIC FLASHES. 
 
 Then you had to with much grace 
 Admit that your racers weren't fleet. 
 
 March IQ, i8q5. 
 
 Soliloquizing. 
 
 T AM tired and lonely, 
 ■■■ My friends are getting few, 
 I'll have to pass life gloomily, 
 We might' ve been together, I and you. 
 
 I'm getting gray and old, 
 The days go by cheerlessly ; 
 
 This I've oft been told, 
 When we're together lovingly. 
 
 But now 'tis too late, 
 
 I'll have to put on my armor ; 
 
 'Tis too late to speculate, 
 But I'll not clamor. 
 
 I miss my dear mother. 
 
 She has long since gone before, 
 
 There hasn't been another 
 To take her place, this is sore. 
 
 My father, too, has passed away ; 
 
 He's gone with many another friend, 
 To where there's a bright ray. 
 
 To where life doesn't end. 
 
DEATH, 95 
 
 Then, too, three sisters' ve gone 
 
 To that other world above, 
 Where they can look upon 
 
 Their brother left to rove. 
 
 Wednesday^ March, i8qb. 
 
 Death. 
 
 WE fain would live, 
 If to die was the end 
 Of all we call life, 
 
 But the truth of which no one can send. 
 
 We struggle here in earthly tent 
 
 A very short period of time, 
 And then we die content, 
 
 As may be in another clime. 
 
 Whether we live or die, 
 
 As time rolls surely away, 
 The end comes bye and bye, 
 
 Then our bodies they away lay. 
 
 Thus we live from day to day 
 
 While friends from us depart, 
 Till almost alone we be — yet gay. 
 
 Then, too, away we dart. 
 
 Monday, March IQ, IQOO. 
 
96 RHYTHMIC FLASHES. 
 
 rarewell, Old Year. 
 
 pAREWELL ! dear old year, 
 A With all thy joy and pain, 
 May we ever thee cheer. 
 
 As long as voice we can obtain. 
 
 Thou hast been to us a friend, 
 As we journeyed along thy path. 
 
 Till we have come to thy end, 
 And we leave thee without wrath, 
 
 Thou hast our friends slain, 
 About which we much lament, 
 
 About it we'll not complain, 
 Nor will we comment. 
 
 We thank thee for thy kindness, 
 As we've had no catastrophy, 
 
 And we express thankfulness 
 For thy philanthropy. 
 
 Thou hast given us night and day, 
 And all the four seasons ; 
 
 In them there were no delay, 
 And for special reasons. 
 
 Rain has always come. 
 
 And we've had light ; 
 If we desired, also rum. 
 
 And all has been right. 
 
 Tuesday, December 31, J8g3. 
 
THE TURTLE. gy 
 
 TiAe Old Rocking Chair. 
 
 r^O you remember that old rocking chair 
 -■-^ On which your mother often sat, 
 Seemingly without any care, 
 
 And you to her did chat ? 
 On that chair she frequently slept, 
 
 And every now and then'd nod, 
 Whilst you stealthly to her side crept ; 
 
 But silently and silently you trod. 
 
 And there, you'd on her dear cheek 
 
 Implant a loved sweet kiss ; 
 Then the old rocking chair' d creak, 
 
 But that was not amiss. 
 Now that old rocking chair is laid aside. 
 
 And your mother lies under the tomb. 
 Hence you must on earth abide. 
 
 Whilst lonely you your time consume. 
 
 March 6, i8q5. 
 
 The Turtle. 
 
 T^HKRE it goes creeping, 
 ^ A turtle on four feet, 
 And the grass under it sweeping. 
 But not very fleet. 
 
 The innocent little thing 
 With head stretched out ; 
 
 When it heard an insect sing. 
 It gulped it in no time about. 
 
98 RHYTHMIC FLASHES. 
 
 On the turtle underneath 
 
 Initials and date were written 
 
 By some one in a heath, 
 When there he was sittin'. 
 
 Often the animal was smashed 
 
 Suddenly by a roller 
 As over it, it crashed, 
 
 By a driver who was a scholar. 
 
 March 13, i8q5. 
 
 The nail Coach. 
 
 T^HERE comes the four-horse stage coach, 
 ■^ Filled with passengers inside and on its top, 
 Nearer and nearer it doth approach. 
 And at the post-office 'twill stop. 
 
 At the post-office the mail' 11 be changed, 
 
 While the driver down from his seat may get. 
 
 And a place for another passenger may be arranged, 
 But many cracks from his whip he'll not forget. 
 
 The mail is changed, the driver mounts the stage, 
 Gathers up the lines, cracks his long whip, 
 
 While a passenger may be reading a page, 
 And quickly away the stage horses trip. 
 
 To this place eleven miles he had to drive, 
 And seventeen more he'll have to go. 
 
JUL Y FO UR TH, 1896. 99 
 
 Every day to make this distance he'll strive, 
 This in the morning the driver' 11 know. 
 
 The trip to or fro must be made every day, 
 In weather fair or stormy during the year ; 
 
 But about this the driver had no say, 
 
 And every day in his place he'd have to appear. 
 
 March 23, i8qS. 
 
 Julv 4tn, 1696. 
 
 T^HIS is the anniversary of Declaration Day, 
 ^ When patriotic men without delay 
 Went forth and signed a decree, 
 Which forever from Great Britain set free. 
 
 Seven long years the war was fought, 
 When freedom of this country was sought ; 
 From post to post our patriots were driven ; 
 At last the cords about them were riven ( rived ). 
 
 For liberty their blood was spilt, 
 On their bones freedom's monument was built ; 
 From year to year old Liberty's Bell has rung, 
 And to the breezes the Stars and Stripes are flung. 
 
 Since, Freedom has been enjoyed by the millions, 
 Aye, even by the many billions. 
 Great Britain's chains about us have been broken, 
 And the voice of freedom has been spoken. 
 
 L.of 
 
 fn. 
 
lOo RHYTHMIC FLASHES. 
 
 Railroading. 
 
 T^HE railroad train when I was a boy, 
 •^ Along the railroad it did go ; 
 Swine, sheep, cattle and men, it'd destroy, 
 And the fare was not very low. 
 
 The train engine had one driver on each side, 
 And its gait per hour was about twenty miles ; 
 
 Along the route it gathered passengers to ride, 
 And among them were ladies with their smiles. 
 
 On the engine there was no cab ; 
 
 In all weather the engineer was exposed ; 
 The fruit along the railroad he'd grab, 
 
 Yet he was very kindly disposed. 
 
 There were no tickets then to punch. 
 The train conductor collected the fare. 
 
 And at some railroad station all'd lunch. 
 
 Then the fare with the State agent he'd com- 
 pare. 
 
 The fuel of the engine was wood. 
 
 With which the passengers assisted in filling 
 the tank ; 
 This was not considered very rude, 
 
 As the engineer' d always say, '* thank." 
 
THE BLIND GIRL. iqi 
 
 Rivers and creeks were crossed on covered wooden 
 bridges, 
 
 When the smoke stack was taken down ; 
 Then the train'd run around ridges, 
 
 And'd water at some small town. 
 
 March 7, i8qS. 
 
 The Blind Girl. 
 
 Suggested by a conversation with a blind girl whilst ridi7tg in 
 
 a car, from Lancaster, Pa., to Pittsburgh, 
 
 Tuesday, August /j, 1895. 
 
 T^HB poor girl that was blind, 
 ^ As she was riding in a car, 
 Sitting on a cushion that was lined. 
 
 Said, "Sir, I would a glass of water prefer.' 
 
 I can't see very well," 
 
 She said to me, as she smiled, 
 And I'd like a drink from a well," 
 
 So I didn't feel at all roiled. 
 
 A glass of water I carried her. 
 
 Which she drank with much zest ; 
 
 Then she said, *' I thank you, sir ;" 
 To this acknowledgment I confessed. 
 
I02 RHYTHMIC FLASHES. 
 
 "" We blind people are troublesome, 
 There is no doubt about that, 
 For we have to be bothersome, 
 But the disposition to be so we always combat. 
 
 " We blind people ourselves enjoy, 
 
 For our other senses are more acute ; 
 As we can't look on the face of a boy, 
 Yet we can, however, play on a flute. 
 
 '* We can do much fancy work, 
 
 Or read by means of raised letters. 
 The subject matter in our minds lurk. 
 Our minds can't be placed in fetters. 
 
 *' We know the geography of the earth. 
 And can locate places thereon ; 
 To this we've been trained from our birth, 
 Which by our teachers is well known. 
 
 * * We have studied history, 
 
 About great battles have been taught ; 
 Can quote much of the Consistory, 
 
 And for these accomplishments have sought. 
 
 ' ' We are so very sensitive. 
 
 We know when people look at us. 
 For our eyes, our other senses are a representa- 
 tive ; 
 Hence, for the loss of sight we make no fuss." 
 
 Friday, August ib, i8qS. 
 
THE DOCTOR. 
 
 The Doctor. 
 
 THE doctor every day- 
 Visits his patients, 
 But sometimes they stray, 
 Then he loses his patience. 
 
 The doctor all the time thinks 
 How he'll give his patients relief, 
 
 But sometimes the patient sinks, 
 Then he loses his belief. 
 
 The pulse the doctor counts 
 
 To know how they run, 
 But sometimes they flounce, 
 
 Then there's no fun. 
 
 Veratrum he gives often 
 
 To make the pulse slow, 
 And them to soften. 
 
 So the patient may out go. 
 
 Whiskey sometimes is given 
 For the purpose to stimulate. 
 
 And the disease to riven ( rive ), 
 So he can contemplate. 
 
 Strychnia strengthens the nerves , 
 Which supply the muscles, 
 
 Which often swerves, 
 Afterward the patient hustles. 
 
 103 
 
I04 RHYTHMIC FLASHES. 
 
 Other remedies are used 
 
 For the patient's benefit, 
 That may be perused, 
 
 And are of no discredit. 
 
 March 13, i8gS. 
 
 The Mississippi River. 
 
 T^HE broad Mississipi onward flows 
 -'■ From its extreme north to its south ; 
 Its wide waters always goes 
 From its source to its mouth. 
 
 O'er its waters are carried freight 
 
 Throughout the years from time to time ; 
 
 This has been so from early date, 
 
 Since the river ran through a cold and a 
 warm clime. 
 
 It drains the great Mississipi valley. 
 Which extends along it on either side ; 
 
 On its bosom has been many a rally. 
 During the war when Rebs wanted o'er 
 us to ride. 
 
 Great men've fallen on its banks 
 During the many fratricidal fights ; 
 
 These have been slaughtered in all ranks, 
 And we've often sickened at such sights. 
 
 Monday, October 2, iSqS. 
 
CROSSING THE BRANDYWINE, 105 
 
 Crossing the Brandvwine. 
 
 ALONG the Brandj^wine I often wandered, 
 And spied the stars as they twinkled, 
 Listened to the sparkling water as it gurgled 
 Round the pebbled shore and only murmured. 
 
 An owl was sitting in a tree, 
 And was sort of on a spree, 
 When it uttered such a doleful note, 
 Just near the prey on which it gloat. 
 
 The frogs were singing " more rung," 
 Whilst a sprig to which I clung ; 
 In the stillness of the hour, 
 I relinquished all my power. 
 
 And fell headlong into the stream. 
 Then I thought I'd surely have to scream. 
 But I struck out with all my might. 
 And I swam to the right. 
 
 Till I reached the opposite shore, 
 And there my breath I did restore ; 
 There on the grass I did lie, 
 And gazed at the stars with a sigh, 
 
 For my clothes were so very wet, 
 But this I did so much regret, 
 Whilst I was chilling in the fog, 
 And there nearby lie a log, 
 
io6 RHYTHMIC FLASHES. 
 
 Which I into the water rolled, 
 And on it I did hold, 
 Whilst I myself was compelled 
 To cross the stream propelled, 
 
 With my hands and with my feet. 
 
 Till finally the other shore I did greet ; 
 
 But there I found the owl still with the chicken, 
 
 And it was much engaged in pickin' . 
 
 Oflf the ground I gathered a stone, 
 
 Which at the owl was straightway thrown ; 
 
 Then it fell to the ground dead, 
 
 And the remaining chickens had no more dread. 
 
 March /, i8gS. 
 
 Mv Sister. 
 
 GOOD BYE, sister Mary, 
 You have gone to the better land 
 Where happiness' 11 never vary 
 With those in that happy band. 
 
 Around the throne you'll see Jesus, 
 As you praise the Lord God ! 
 
 Your joys always increases 
 As you there onward trod. 
 
 yune 2b, i8qg. 
 
WATER CARRIERS. 107 
 
 Water Carriers. 
 
 TEACHER, may Sallie and I go after water ? " 
 " Yes, if you come back soon and don't the 
 water spill ;" 
 Mary and Sallie each to the other was her aunt's 
 daughter, 
 To the spring they carried the bucket to fill. 
 
 But on the way they consumed much time, 
 
 As they viewed everything that was to be seen ; 
 
 Or sang a song that might rhyme, 
 
 Under a shade tree on the grass green. 
 
 And thus they loitered on the way. 
 Till they finally came to the spring, 
 
 Where they might the water spray. 
 Or try to catch a fish with a string. 
 
 The water bucket was filled at last. 
 
 With it the water carriers at the schoolhouse ar- 
 rived ; 
 For loitering the teacher accusation on them cast, 
 
 And they said, " to be in haste we've strived." 
 
 March 2i, i8qS. 
 
io8 RHYTHMIC FLASHES. 
 
 The Old Tin Cup at School. 
 
 T^HK old tin cup at school 
 ■^ It pressed many a lip, 
 And sometimes that of a fool, 
 But it was taken with a flip. 
 
 Where are they all now 
 
 That drank out of the old tin cup ? 
 As the time is driven by the prow 
 
 Of the many years that came up, 
 
 Since those acts were consummated, 
 
 Now there are few to relate, 
 And it can't be corroborated 
 
 By those who then wrote on the slate. 
 
 There were many complaints 
 
 By the pupils with much conceit, 
 
 And they were not all saints, 
 Before the cup they could greet. 
 
 It was passed around to the pupils 
 
 By a little girl or boy. 
 And he had no scruples 
 
 Whether or no the water the pupils did 
 enjoy. 
 
 Much of the water was wasted, 
 Which over on the floor slopped. 
 
EASTER MORN. 109 
 
 And through a hole in the tin not pasted, 
 That ought to have been stopped. 
 
 The old tin cup now is very rusty, 
 And they that then drank from it 
 
 Have become very crusty, 
 
 If death's dart hasn't already hit. 
 
 March 4, i8gS. 
 
 Easter yWorn. 
 
 ON Easter day we ate eggs for breakfast, 
 And for this purpose we hid them without 
 alarm ; 
 The time for hiding them'd six weeks last. 
 We hid them where no one could harm. 
 
 The boys at hiding eggs took great delight. 
 
 And were happy Easter morn when we them to 
 our mothers gave ; 
 
 That morn we were quick in flight, 
 
 And our mothers for wrong doing us forgave. 
 
 At breakfast each ate several boiled eggs, 
 Sometimes colored, sometimes otherwise ; 
 
 That Easter' d last always a boy he begs, 
 For that day he'd always prize. 
 
 Sunday, April 4, ^SgS. 
 
1 1 o RHYTHMIC FLASHES. 
 
 Importance of Selecting a Husband or Wife. 
 
 \/'OUNG people should be educated 
 *^ Proper companions to select ; 
 Those who have not fornicated, 
 And these they ought to be able to detect. 
 
 Healthy parents healthy children beget, 
 Otherwise unhealthy ones are born ; 
 
 These truths we should not forget, 
 Nor should they be forborne. 
 
 A healthy people a healthy nation makes, 
 Unhealthy people, the country to ruin goes ; 
 
 Sometimes a nation to these facts awakes. 
 And this knowledge is the people's best dose. 
 
 If by this knowledge we are profited 
 
 The tubercle bacillus may come, 
 But it will not be benefited, 
 
 As through the body it may roam. 
 
 For the cell will be invulnerable 
 
 Against the tubercle bacillus' attacks. 
 
 And such will be very probable, 
 Possibly herein I've stated facts. 
 
 April IT, i8qS. 
 
ON A RAILROAD TRAIN. No. 2. 
 
 A Railroad Train. 
 
 ON a railroad on a train, 
 As over the track we glide, 
 Around the ridges, on the plains, 
 And oh ! how fast we ride. 
 
 Down grade the train goes, 
 
 Whilst over bridges she rolls, 
 And at some station she slows, 
 
 Whilst at others she coals. 
 
 As the train swiftly runs, 
 
 The beautiful scenery we may scan, 
 As some passenger may have puns, 
 
 Whilst another may have a fan. 
 
 The train is now running a mile a minute, 
 We can't count the posts of the fence, 
 
 Whilst there is a passenger playing a flute, 
 But that to others is no offence. 
 
 April lb, i8q5. 
 
 On a Railroad Train. No. 2. 
 
 HERB we go riding 
 On a railroad train, 
 Through towns and villages gliding, 
 And along the plain. 
 
1 1 2 RHYTHMIC FLASHES. 
 
 Down a river bottom, 
 
 And then around the ridges, 
 
 Where the rocks hang in column, 
 Then over many bridges. 
 
 Fast over highways crossing, 
 And through ravines rushing. 
 
 The engine the smoke tossing, 
 
 And the sand the wheels crushing. 
 
 April 17, i8q5. 
 
 Decoration Dav. 
 
 npHIS is Decoration Day, 
 '^ Eighteen hundred and ninety-five. 
 That the soldiers are happy, we pray. 
 At least those who are alive. 
 
 And those who are dead, 
 
 We hope time they do enjoy. 
 Including the Confed, 
 
 And that the latter are in better employ. 
 
 But recently I was sad. 
 
 When on the Gettysburg battle ground ; 
 But I was very glad 
 
 The Confederates we did pound. 
 
 We were at the Bloody Angle, 
 And rock-ribbed Devil's Den : 
 
DECORA TION DAY. 113 
 
 At the latter there was a big wrangle, 
 At and around this pen. 
 
 Across the level called Death's Valley, 
 
 Was Little Round Top ; 
 Across this valley was many a sally. 
 
 Before the Confederates came to a stop. 
 
 At Bloody Angle was a corps 
 
 Commanded by General Hancock, 
 
 Where the cannons did roar. 
 
 As o'er the Stone- wall with the Rebs he 
 did lock. 
 
 In the rear of Bloody Angle on the slope, 
 Was General Meade's headquarters, 
 
 And there with General Lee he did cope. 
 While all around him were mortars. 
 
 In the Peach Orchard flowed 
 
 The life-blood of the brave. 
 While for victory their hearts glowed, 
 
 Yet many found a cold grave. 
 
 In the Wheat-field was heavy fighting. 
 
 And there, there were many brave men killed ; 
 
 There there were many balls and shells alight- 
 ing, 
 Sent by marksmen skilled. 
 
1 1 4 RHYTHMIC FLASHES. 
 
 In the Seminary was stationed Lee, 
 With a hospital flag floating o'er him, 
 
 And the third day he wasn't in glee, 
 When his army was becoming slim. 
 
 This was a hard-contested battle, 
 
 And the battle of the war, 
 For death's messengers did rattle 
 
 All among our brave corps. 
 
 There the victory was decided 
 
 Which afterward at Appomattox took place, 
 And this is so, howe'er much derided, 
 ^ As history continues on apace. 
 
 O'er the Furnace road we did ride, 
 And the Emmettsburg turnpike. 
 
 Where Lee's army retreated side by side, 
 But this he did not like. 
 
 We saw the convergence of the two roads, 
 
 Where his army did re-unite, 
 And where artillery in loads, 
 
 Kilpatrick's troops did fight. 
 
 This was Lee's sad retreat, 
 
 Near the turnpike gate he slept, 
 
 But his retreat was very complete, 
 As on a southern course he kept. 
 
 Pittsburg, May jo, iSgS. 
 
THE OLD COUNTRY SCHOOL HOUSE. 115 
 
 The Old Country School House. 
 
 THE old country school house 
 At which we learned our a, b, c's, 
 The teacher used to on us souse 
 Whenever we'd even sneeze. 
 
 He paddled us o'er the ends of the fingers, 
 Also on the extended palm of the hand, 
 
 And I tell they were stingers, 
 Then he'd make us stand. 
 
 Sometimes he'd make us draw our coats. 
 And over our backs he thrashed, 
 
 Then he'd say, " young gloats. 
 
 You haven't been sufficiently lashed." 
 
 At other times he'd us in the desk put, 
 
 Or over his knee he'd draw ; 
 Then on the back of our breeches he'd toot, 
 
 But in them he might find a flaw. 
 
 He also whipped us over the shins 
 
 With a cat-o'-nine tails. 
 And this would cause us many grins. 
 
 But to punish us thus he never fails. 
 
 Often he'd put a boy on the girl's side, 
 
 And there make him sit alone. 
 With a bonnet on his head beside, 
 
 Till all his mischief he'd atone. 
 
1 1 6 RHYTHMIC FLASHES. 
 
 Occasionally he'd slap your ears 
 And make your whole head ring, 
 
 Which might affect you for years, 
 But sometimes only till spring. 
 
 March 8, i8gs. 
 
 To Deceased rriend. 
 
 J. B. MURDOCK, M. D. 
 
 'T^HEY have buried him there, 
 •'• In the cold, cold ground. 
 Where there isn't any care, 
 And all's silent around. 
 
 There there'll be no waking 
 Till the great Judgment Day, 
 
 Then there'll be a quaking, 
 And certainly a bright ray. 
 
 He sleeps his last sleep, 
 
 He's fought his last battle," 
 
 The benefits of which he'll reap, 
 When his interred bones' 11 rattle. 
 
 Many years may pass by 
 
 Ere that time'U come, 
 Till it comes there he'll lie, 
 
 But his spirit' 11 onward roam. 
 
MOTHER. 117 
 
 But we'll see him again 
 
 At some future time, 
 And so'll all men 
 
 In another far away clime. 
 
 Wednesday, November 2S, i8qt>. 
 
 Mother. 
 
 T^'WAS a mother's soft kiss, 
 ^ T'was only a mother's sweet kiss 
 That mother gave to me when dying, 
 As on her death bed she was lying. 
 
 She said to me, * ' farewell, 
 
 My dear boy, farewell ; 
 
 Will you meet me in Heaven ?" 
 
 Then the clock struck just eleven. 
 
 And in death she closed her eyes. 
 Then her spirit was wafted to the skies. 
 To be with bright angels there, 
 To be with bright angels fair. 
 
 Since she has crossed over 
 Her spirit often around me hover, 
 But her form I'll ne'er more see. 
 On earth I'll ne'er more see. 
 
 I often see her in my dreams, 
 
 And she is talking to me, it seems ; 
 
1 1 8 RHYTHMIC FLASHES. 
 
 When I awaken, alas ! a dream t'was, 
 Only a dream t'was, t'was, t'was. 
 
 Mother has been dead many years, 
 And I haven't any fears 
 But she's gone to the better land 
 To dwell in that other world — grand. 
 
 Wednesday ^ yune 6, i8qS. 
 
 Camp Fleeting. 
 
 A camp meeting would be held once a year in a suitable 
 woodland. The plot of ground set apart for the camp meet- 
 ing was a shady level, convenient to a spring or stream of 
 water, which would furnish an ample supply of the liquid fluid 
 to the people. The camp meeting would continue one week. 
 Many of the members of the church near by, and also those 
 members of churches from a distance, would each erect a 
 wooden or canvas tent for his family. When all these tents 
 were erected and peopled, the place would present a sociable, 
 easy, free and home-like appearance. A pulpit was erected 
 within the circle described by these tents, and also seats for 
 the people. The big guns of the church or denomination were 
 expected to preach. Many of the people within a circumfer- 
 ence of thirty miles would asse;nble at the camp meeting. 
 Morning, afternoon and evening services of each day were 
 held. The success of the camp meeting consisted in the num- 
 ber of recruits taken into the church on the occasion. It also 
 was a healthy recreation. Breathing the pure air in the woods 
 and healthful exercise engendered a sharp appetite. The lover 
 often met for the first time his sweetheart, and the old lovers 
 their old girls. Acquaintances were often formed which ri- 
 pened into true friendship. The camp meeting would furnish 
 matter for the visitor to converse and think about, and it was 
 
CAMP MEETING. 
 
 119 
 
 an occasion always to be looked forward to, not only by min- 
 isters, but by the laymen, with a great deal of delight. The 
 camp meeting when in full blast presented quite a village-like 
 appearance. The time of the year the meeting was held was 
 just after the farmers had finished planting their wheat. 
 
 A T that camp meeting 
 -'^ There were many that did shout, 
 And there was much greeting 
 As the people walked about. 
 
 The meeting was held in September, 
 
 A short time after the wheat was planted, 
 
 If I correctly this event remember, 
 
 Only a week for the meeting the woods was 
 granted. 
 
 It was important for the health 
 To promenade the woods around. 
 
 Or a squirrel to capture by stealth. 
 Before a hole in a tree he'd found. 
 
 On the ground was a city of tents. 
 
 Canvas, wood and otherwise. 
 Which housed people without rents, 
 
 And sometimes those in disguise. 
 
 Every day some one preached 
 To five thousand people or more, 
 
 And his voice hardly all reached, 
 And especially those who'd snore. 
 
1 20 RHYTHMIC FLASHES. 
 
 Outside the camp meeting were . 
 
 WatermelotivS sold by a man, 
 And might be bought by her 
 
 Who'd o'er and o'er them scan. 
 
 Near by the camp was a spring 
 That furnished the water supply, 
 
 And to this people trod in a string, 
 The cup to their lips apply. 
 
 At the camp was a marquee 
 
 In which the preachers slept ; 
 To this they always had a guarantee. 
 
 And into it they often crept. 
 
 Here a young man met 
 
 For the first time his sweetheart, 
 
 Afterwards they'd together get 
 
 And'd stay till just before they'd home start. 
 
 Together came old friends 
 
 That hadn't met for years, 
 That'd say they'd stay till the camp ends, 
 
 Then they'd separate with tears. 
 
 The meeting was held in a shade 
 
 Of the great big oak trees, 
 And nobody was afraid, 
 
 For they'd go about as they please. 
 
 March I2, iSgJ. 
 
THE OLD SPINNING WHEEL. 121 
 
 The Old Spinning WIaccL 
 
 THE spinning wheel is an old machine 
 Which was frequently used by our grand- 
 mothers ; 
 When a boy in many houses it might be seen, 
 But then it was often run by our mothers. 
 
 When the flyers fast on their axis spun, 
 There was in the room a very great buzz, 
 
 When you put your fingers in them there was fun, 
 Then from them would fly the fuzz. 
 
 When the yarn was spun for the stocking, 
 'Twas into stockings by the fair ladies knit ; 
 
 If stockings in winter weren't worn 'twas shocking, 
 But those who did the knitting on chairs' d sit. 
 
 The spinning wheel was run by the feet. 
 Whilst the spinner would a song sing, 
 
 To imitate the motion that was fleet. 
 Whilst the flyers would the wool fling. 
 
 March S, iSgS. 
 
 The spinning wheel hums from morning till night, 
 With mother's strong feet on the treadle, 
 
 It is scarcely ever out of sight, 
 And no one is allowed with it to meddle. 
 
1 2 2 RHYTHMIC FLASHES, 
 
 The yarn on the spindle is twisted, 
 As the wheel goes spinning around, 
 
 Thus one spindle after another is listed. 
 Till the need of them in stockings is found. 
 
 Saturday, December 8, /goo. 
 
 The wheel stands in the garret corner. 
 Or in a theater behind foot-lights ; 
 
 Grandmother may be indeed a scorner 
 
 Of those whom the good name of the wheel 
 blights. 
 
 Monday, Decetnber ij, tgoo. 
 
 The Normal School. 
 
 MILLERSVILLE, PA. 
 
 T USED to go to a normal school, 
 
 *- Wickersham was the name of the principal, 
 
 He always kept exceedingly cool, 
 
 And was a great stickler for a principle. 
 
 He now lies under the sod, 
 
 And not very far away, 
 Scarcely more than a rod. 
 
 The wind the branches of the cedars sway. 
 
THE NORMAL SCHOOL. 123 
 
 A professor of mathematics was there, 
 And his name was Edward Brooks, 
 
 He had very light brown hair, 
 And since wrote many mathematical books. 
 
 At figures he was exceedingly swift, 
 
 As he wrote them on the board. 
 But this was a natural gift, 
 
 In his mind he had them well stored. 
 
 There, too, was a teacher named Weaver, 
 Only a few now him scarcely remember. 
 
 He was suddenly stricken with fever. 
 And died long ago, about December. 
 
 He was a man we all did love, 
 
 And was an excellent teacher ; 
 Into mathematics he deeply dove. 
 
 And in abstruse science was a reacher. 
 
 There, too, was a tutor of grammar. 
 
 And his name was A. P. Byerly, 
 He by no means was a crammer. 
 
 But led the mind out entirely. 
 
 He was a man that was pure. 
 
 And was a faithful student, 
 For the right he'd allure. 
 
 And couldn't be imprudent. 
 
1 24 RHYTHMIC FLASHES. 
 
 At school, too, there was a man, 
 And John Morrow was his name, 
 
 He didn't belong to any clan. 
 As an educator has some fame. 
 
 Of Allegheny schools he's superintendent, 
 And has been for many years ; 
 
 We hope he'll soon be President, 
 Then we'll give him three cheers. 
 
 There also was a pupil. 
 
 And his given name was Fell, 
 
 'Tis to be hoped he'll have no scruple 
 The laws to administer well. 
 
 For now he is judge supreme 
 Of this great Pennsylvania State, 
 
 And he ought to Justice in its cream. 
 Distribute to the small and great. 
 
 There also was a lady, 
 
 Her 71071 de plume was Hattie Heath, 
 She was not at all old maidy, 
 
 When she wrote about the normal heath. 
 
 April, i8gS. 
 
THE NINE TEENTH CENTUR Y. 125 
 
 The Nineteenth Centurv. 
 
 T^HK nineteenth century's past, 
 * The twentieth has begun, 
 It went very fast 
 
 As we circled round the sun. 
 
 With England we had a fight, 
 In eighteen fourteen. 
 
 For what was the right. 
 The battles were keen. 
 
 Into Mexico we went 
 In eighteen forty-six. 
 
 Without her consent. 
 To study her tricks. 
 
 Many battles were fought 
 With Scott on the lead, 
 
 But peace was sought 
 And the armies were freed. 
 
 In eighteen sixty-one 
 
 A commotion was brought ; 
 In four years we won, 
 
 When peace was sought. 
 
 Spain, too, trouble made. 
 In eighteen ninety-eight, 
 
126 RHYTHMIC FLASHES. 
 
 And we went on a raid, 
 
 The Philippines was our fate. 
 
 Wednesday, January 2J, IQOI . 
 
 Lines on Mv Dear Priend, 
 
 W. H. DALY, M. D., 
 
 WHO DIED SUNDAY, JUNE 9, 1901. 
 
 OUR friend has passed away, 
 As many've done before. 
 Behind he left a bright ray 
 Of sunshine as of yore. 
 
 In life he was kind and true, 
 And manly he could be ; 
 
 Advantages he'd not take of you, 
 And of back-biting was free. 
 
 A vigorous mind he possessed, 
 It continually upward soared ; 
 
 He lived the life he professed. 
 And' 11 surely get his reward. 
 
 Society into which he went 
 Was allured by his presence ; 
 
 To repartee he oft gave vent. 
 But exercised it with good sense. 
 
FROM PITTSBURGH TO PHILADELPHIA. 127 
 
 'Tis hard to say good-bye, 
 
 Yet we know we must ; 
 So we'll linger awhile to sigh; 
 
 Ere we return to dust. 
 
 Tuesday, June 25, iqoi . 
 
 rrom PittsDurgh to PNIadelphia \\\ the nontri 
 of Mav. 
 
 ON a train at Pittsburgh we got, 
 To Philadelphia to go ; 
 The engineer's toot- toot on the spot. 
 Then the train didn't go very slow. 
 
 East Liberty she soon left behind, 
 
 Through Wilkensburg and Braddock she'd 
 glide. 
 
 And to stop at Greensburg she designed. 
 Then she passed Latrobe and Hillside. 
 
 Along the Conemaugh* she sped, 
 And around the curves she flew, 
 
 While the sparks they were red. 
 And the wind it blew. 
 
 Up the mountain she went. 
 
 Through the tunnel she passed, 
 
 But the time was well spent, 
 For in Altoona* she was fast. 
 
1 28 RHYTHMIC FLASHES. 
 
 There we took a lunch 
 
 Inside the open gates, 
 But we hadn't any punch, 
 
 Nor had we any plates. 
 
 Then into the train we stepped. 
 There on our seats we sat, 
 
 And we might have sometimes slept. 
 If we had not chat. 
 
 Down grade the train ran, 
 Past small towns she spun, 
 
 As the scenery we'd scan, 
 
 And we might have had some fun. 
 
 Then she struck the blue Juniata, 
 And along its waters steamed ; 
 
 Many miles from Cincinnati, 
 Whilst the sun beamed. 
 
 On, on, she quickly pushed. 
 Then the long bridge we could see, 
 
 Under which the Susquehanna rushed, 
 And in Harrisburg we soon be. 
 
 There ten minutes we stopped, 
 A cup of coffee each drank, 
 
 Then' easy positions we did adopt. 
 As in our seats we sank. 
 
FROM PITTSBURGH TO PHILADELPHIA. 129 
 
 Then the throttle was drawn, 
 And the drivers fast went round, 
 
 Then we could see a lawn, 
 
 As to Philadelphia we were bound. 
 
 Then through the beautiful Pequea Valley, 
 As she left Lancaster to the right, 
 
 But the train might make a sally, 
 When Lancaster was out of sight. 
 
 Then Chester Valley she passed through, 
 And we viewed the beautiful green grass, 
 
 As the engine the black smoke threw, 
 Whilst we might look out through the glass. 
 
 Then she crossed the Brandy wine. 
 Then along the slope of the ridge. 
 
 And the train was running very fine. 
 When behind she left Valley Creek bridge. 
 
 Then Paoli, Strafford and Bryn Mawr we saw. 
 
 As nearer Philadelphia we were. 
 But was running no faster than the law 
 
 On all occasions would permit her. 
 
 At Quaker City we soon arrived. 
 Then out of the train we sprung ; 
 
 To go to a hotel we strived, 
 With our satchels to which we clung. 
 
 March 2/, t8q5. 
 * Horseshoe Bend and Johnstown on this route. 
 
1 30 RHYTHMIC FLASHES. 
 
 i^urder Hollow. 
 
 ON THE BRANDYWINE. 
 
 pvOWN in old Murder Hollow, 
 -*-^ Through which the Brandywine runs, 
 There the pigs used to wallow, 
 And we shot them with guns. 
 
 Below there, was the Black Pool, 
 
 Where we used to swim ; 
 The time in the water we'd fool, 
 
 As we held to an overhanging limb. 
 
 Farther down was Dorian's Dam, 
 
 Where I used to fish 
 With a boy named Adam ; 
 
 Of fish for supper we had a dish. 
 
 Above there was the Dipping, 
 Where the people were baptised ; 
 
 They came out a dripping, 
 That they were wet they realized. 
 
 There, the sheep were washed, 
 And there they were also clipped, 
 
 Then they were unlashed, 
 And away they soon skipped. 
 
TO A YOUNG MAN A T SCHOOL. 131 
 
 Farther up was Betty's Hole, 
 
 Where to bathe we used to go, 
 As round the bend the wavelets' d roll. 
 
 Where the overhanging limbs hung low, 
 
 Thursday, January 23, iSgb. 
 
 To a Young Man at School. 
 
 **/'~^EORGK, you can go to school next summer, 
 ^^ And I hope you'll not murmur ; 
 When to study you'll have yourself best to apply, 
 And I'll furnish you economic supply. 
 
 ' * While at school you steadily remember 
 That in order to be a member 
 Of one of the learned professions. 
 You often of ignorance must make confessions. 
 
 " 'Tis fact added to fact that makes one wise, 
 And many ways you'll have to provise ; 
 To more surely develop the intellect, 
 You'll have all your thoughts to collect. 
 
 " Drive foolish things from your mind, 
 And take work very kind. 
 Systematize your time as best you can. 
 And enter particularly into no clan. 
 
 ( < 
 
 Discover without doubt what is the right. 
 And along that pathway go with all your might. 
 
132 RHYTHMIC FLASHES. 
 
 Then you'll the goal certainly attain, 
 
 The spirit of manliness then you ought to contain, 
 
 " Perfection in this world is impossible, 
 But to grow more perfect is probable ; 
 If one sets out for that achievement, 
 When he's old he'll have no bereavement. 
 
 " Use your time every moment in study, 
 And do not things that'll make you bloody ; 
 Your grand object in this life is success. 
 That can only be attained by one process. 
 
 ** Namely the path of duty must be trod, 
 If this path is followed you'll not carry the hod ; 
 Try, therefore, to make a place in this world, 
 Then around in life you'll not be hurled." 
 
 March /, iSqs. 
 
 To An Old, Old rriend. 
 
 ly/l Y dear friend, I my pen take up 
 "'''*■ To give you a little chat ; 
 Do you remember your mother's old cup 
 From which you did often sup ? 
 
 Do you ever think of old Lion, 
 On whom to Downingtown you did go ? 
 
 And you came home sort of cryin*. 
 Because he went so and so. 
 
rO A YOUNG MAN AT SCHOOL. 133 
 
 Do you recollect deaf Mollie, 
 Who was in the millinery business, 
 
 And she was not very jolly, 
 
 When the bonnets weren't in readiness ? 
 
 Do you ever think of J.'s gum shoe, 
 
 Which to the ceiling I did flop, 
 And you would say to me, "sh-you," 
 
 Then I'd sort of stop? 
 
 Do you recall the night you snored. 
 
 When J. M. put into your mouth apple sass, 
 
 Then you thought you were sort of bored, 
 And you him began to sass ? 
 
 Do you ever think of the Brandy wine, 
 On the banks of which you were born, 
 
 And don't you think it very fine. 
 
 Your mind those thoughts can adorn ? 
 
 Do you remember Read's old log 
 That was constructed o'er the creek. 
 
 And over which was carried grog, 
 Then the old log'd creak ? 
 
 Do you remember your father, 
 That now lies under the tombstone ; 
 
 When you were home altogether. 
 Then he weighed more than ten stone ? 
 
134 RHYTHMIC FLASHES. 
 
 You haven't your mother forgot ? 
 
 She, too, lies under the sod. 
 And it soon' 11 be your lot, 
 
 To lie nearby only a rod. 
 
 You'll not forget Eliza and Bell, 
 
 Who with you used to abide ? 
 But both long since have fell, 
 
 And gone with your parents to other side. 
 
 March 6, i8qs. 
 
 Picl^ing Stones. 
 
 T USED to stones pick, 
 ^ When I was a boy. 
 But they'd in the ground stick, 
 While a butterfly I'd annoy. 
 
 Under a stone might be 
 
 An ugly shaped worm, 
 That I'd want to see. 
 
 But at the sight of it I'd squirm. 
 
 I took all the stone 
 And placed them in a pile, 
 
 For I couldn't be a drone. 
 
 If I did I'd my day's work spoil. 
 
 But many things my attention drew, 
 As the day began to pass ; 
 
PICKING STONES. 135 
 
 But the boys round were few, 
 As the stones I did mass. 
 
 There gathered the busy bee, 
 From the clover sweets, 
 
 And the birds saug in glee, 
 
 I thought them pretty but fleets. 
 
 A squirrel, I saw it leap 
 From a branch of a tree ; 
 
 At this time I wanted to sleep, 
 To lie down I didn't feel free. 
 
 The noon hour came, 
 
 And I to dinner went, 
 There the best I played my game, 
 
 For eating was my bent. 
 
 The stones were at last picked all, 
 But my fingers then were sore, 
 
 And I quit at the first call. 
 But this message I did adore. 
 
 March I2, /Sqj. 
 
36 RHYTHMIC FLASHES. 
 
 a Golden Wedding. 
 
 Suggested by being at My Cousin's Golden Wedding. 
 
 A GOLDEN wedding is a measure 
 ^^ Of fifty years of wedded life ; 
 Oh ! what a great pleasure 
 
 When there hasn't been any strife. 
 
 How few there are celebrate it ; 
 
 How thankful this couple should be, 
 Who preserved themselves as years flit, 
 
 vSo the celebration they can see. 
 
 The reason is, their parents dear, 
 Of their healths they did care ; 
 
 To have unhealthy children did fear, 
 Because they considered it unfair. 
 
 This couple, too, preserved their health. 
 These are the reasons they're here to-day, 
 
 With friends whose health is wealth, 
 And the bride and groom seem gay. 
 
 Thursday, Septejttber ty, iBqb. 
 
THE UNITED STATES NAVY. 
 
 The United States Navv. 
 
 ''ipHE navy has done its duty 
 ■'• In each contested naval fight, 
 And that has been its beauty, 
 
 For it always has been for the right. 
 
 Chasing up the rivers; 
 
 Running the blockades, 
 Knocking the enemy to slivers, 
 
 With its sharp cannonades. 
 
 It has steamed o'er the ocean, 
 
 Twenty knots an hour. 
 And made a great commotion, 
 
 With its steam power. 
 
 It has steamed along river bottoms, 
 
 Where the ague was rife, 
 Torturing the enemy's columns, 
 
 In many a battle strife. 
 
 It has fought the enemy's artillery, 
 
 Giving it tit for tat. 
 Blowing up the distillery. 
 
 Knocking it into a cocked hat. 
 
 It has fought concealed batteries 
 On many, many river banks. 
 
 And crashed the shells through them. 
 Thus thinning out their ranks. 
 
 137 
 
138 RHYTHMIC FLASHES. 
 
 It has steamed up the enemy's rivers^ 
 Many, many dark nights, 
 
 And took up the torpedoes. 
 When there wasn't any lights. 
 
 It has penetrated its country. 
 Fifty miles within its lines, 
 
 And has been in a quandry. 
 Many, many, many times. 
 
 It has spied the blockade runners, 
 Running nearly out of sight. 
 
 And many, many hummers, 
 It has given them in the night. 
 
 It has boarded their vessels 
 After they were brought to, 
 
 And took them in tow, 
 
 These haven't been very few. 
 
 It has shelled its towns. 
 
 For many, many hours. 
 Blowing up the houses. 
 
 Till the towns were ours. 
 
 It has steamed up its rivers. 
 With the enemy on both sides, 
 
 Giving it grape and shrapnel. 
 Under very, very good guides. 
 
THE BATTLE OF GETTYSBURG. 139 
 
 The navy has been a protection 
 Upon which the army did depend, 
 
 And many and many a time, 
 Victory to the army it did send. 
 
 Friday, June /S, fSgy. 
 
 The Battle of Gettvstxirg. 
 
 July 1, 2, 3, 1863. 
 
 During the time of my medical cadetship, especially after 
 the battle of Gettysburg, there was an epidemic of hospital 
 gangrene among the hospitals in Philadelphia, and this neces- 
 sitated a great many surgical operations, and consequently 
 these operations brought me in contact with all the leading sur- 
 geons of Philadelphia at that day at the army hospitals there. 
 Gross, Pancoast, McClellan, Neil and Hewson, often visited 
 and performed surgical operations at the hospitals. I also 
 made the acquaintance at that time of Dr. John Bell, who was 
 a gentleman of the old school, and a very delightful, interest- 
 ing and kind man he was. 
 
 Soon after the battle of Gettysburg, whilst stationed at the 
 U. S. Army Hospital, Broad and Cherry streets, Philadelphia, 
 Pa., I had the honor, as well as the pleasure, of meeting Gen- 
 eral George W. Meade, at a reception given this distinguished 
 general by Dr. William W. Gerhard, who lived on Fourth 
 street below Walnut, Philadelphia, Pa. His residence was a 
 three-story brick house so arranged that his double parlors 
 were on the second floor, in which was a long table set the 
 evening of the reception, bountifully covered with viands of 
 the season. In front of the house was a veranda on to which 
 you could step from the parlors. 
 
 Dr. William V. Keating was surgeon in charge of the 
 Broad and Cherry hospital, and also had been a former 
 schoolmate of General Meade. The medical staff, conva- 
 
140 
 
 THE BATTLE OF GETTYSBURG. 
 
 lescing soldiers, the guard, and band, of the hospital, were in- 
 vited. We all arrived at Dr. Gerhard's residence just before 
 dark. The band was discoursing some patriotic airs in the 
 street when General Meade was called. He and Admiral 
 Dupont and other gentlemen alike distinguished, made their 
 appearance on the veranda, when the soldiers cried out, 
 "a light! a light!" 
 
 General Meade, as a prelude to his remarks, said " I hope 
 that the soldiers who had fought under my command at the 
 battle of Gettysburg need not a light to see my countenance, 
 or to recognize my voice." After a few appropriate remarks 
 congratulatory to the soldiers on their rapid recovery from 
 their wounds, and for their bravery at the battle of Gettysburg, 
 General Meade retired, and Admiral Dupont was called and 
 made a short address, after which as many of us as could be 
 were admitted into the large double parlors and partook of 
 the bountiful repast, and walked and talked with General 
 Meade. I was greatly impressed then with the kindness, af- 
 fability and sociability and greatness of General Meade. 
 
 
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