A N O OTHER POEMS. TACITUS I1USSEY. LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. Chap._ Copyright No. Shelf.tU..?J7RS L\ % 5 (s UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. THE RIVER BEND AND .... OTHER POEMS BY TAC ITTTS HUSSEV I LI. I 1ST RAXED. ^:r^ \ ^^u-> DES MOINES. IOWA: CARTER cV HUSSEY. PRINTERS. 1896. v-*^^ Entered according to Act of Congress in the year 1896, By TACITUS HUSSEY, In the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. This Volume will be sent, prepaid, to any address on receipt of $1.(X). TACITUS HUSSEY, Des Moines, Iowa. CONTENTS. Frontispiece 2 Illustrations, 10 Proem 11 Dedicator\' M The River Bend 17 To Robin Redbreast 20 Tlie Reason Whv 21 The Hoosier Nectar 22 'Ihe Summer's Farewell. 24 Disillusion 2> HiK^h Li^Mits 26 When the Bloom Is on the (^orn 28 Chr\'santhemum ^0 Our Hoosier State, ^1 In Memory ot J. Addison Hepbuin ^2 My Ladv's Violin ^^ June, ^s Memory's Cadence ?6 Till Death Do Us Part 42 Junior H\inn 43 The First Snow ot Winter 44 Early Called 4S When the Mists Have Passed 46 J'o Henry Watterson, 47 The Old Hawkeye Band 48 The Friend in Need, ^0 Vernal Longings, S4 Easter Day, 56 A Dream, 57 The Family Thought, 59 General James M. Tuttle, 60 In Memoriam 62 July, 63 To Margaret, . 64 Free Currency, . .65 Christmas Bells, 67 You Know it, 70 Misapprehension, 71 Thanksgiving Suggestion, 72 Lovely May, 74 The Flood — 1892, . , 75 The Sunday School's Farewell, 77 Precaution, , . 79 The Kicker's Funeral, 80 Return of the Prodigals, 82 America's Crown, 87 To a November Dandelion, 88 A Surprise, 89 Memory's Song, , ... 90 Hoosier Echoes, 91 Rising Genius, 93 Jubilee Year, 94 A Spring Beauty, . , 96 The Good Old Times, 99 Easter Morning, 101 Christmas, 102 The Poet's Plea, . , 103 Spring, 105 Goin' to Farmin', 106 Tears Mingled, 108 Columbus Day, , . , 109 The Tariff Ill Christmas Carol, 112 Would Like Anotlier Cliance 114 The Old Rain Barrel 116 Prosperity, 118 The Temple Beautiful 119 Which? 121 A Thanksgiving Toast. 122 The Kound Up 123 The Homesick Hoosier, 124 The Under Cat 12S Plain Jane and Me MO October n2 The World's Fair Poem . . .11^ Hie Kehktant Idea M^ The kace at Cherokee, \\6 Forty Years in Iowa, M9 She Had 141 Hoosier Recollections. 112 September. \\\ Christmas Doings 14^ Reconsideration 148 The Poet of the Future M9 Cause and Ettect \>\ A River Id\l . M^ POEMS ILLUSTRATED. The River Bend, The Flood, The Friend in Need, Spring Beauty, My Lady's Violin, Frontispiece, (The Author.) Easter Day, Dedicatory, Forty Years in Iowa, Christmas Bells, Homesick Hoosier, Christmas Carol Return of the Prodigals, Zeese & Sons, Engravers, Photos, H N. Little, F. W. Webster. Illustration, Jennie Girton, Waterloo, Iowa, Zeese & Sons, Engravers. Photo, Ideal Portrait Co., (Snap Shot,) F. H. Luthe, illustrations, Clara Hendricks, Star Engraving Co. The press work on this book was done by courtesy of the Kenyon Printing and Manufacturing Company. 10 PROEM. I saw a spider spin a slender thread. From his small spinaret. tloatinti; free ; How busii\ he wrou.uht, as on it sped — 1 stood and wondered w iiat hi^ aim could be. And from his lowly workshop on the ground. Breeze- wafted, his tinv line rose hi<::her. And, fast'nin^ to a loftier shrub, he found B\' climbing, he could uin his heart's desire. Then, from the higher vantapje ground, spun he, A longer thread, which soared hii2;h in the air. And. wind-directed, touched a tall oak tree. Which caught it tenderly, and held it there. So. like the spider. I have tlun;^ some lines Out on an unknown world, maybe, for nauj;ht ; But tremblinij;, hope that it Nour heart inclines — You'll be the Oak. on which thevVe t'irmlv cautrht ! MRS. JENNIE CLEMENT HUSSEY DEDICATORY. To her, who through life's sun and shade. In summer's heat, in winter's cold. Since paths together have been laid To walk, until Life's tale is told ; To her, the true and lovin.i:: wife. Whose presence brightened many a mile Upon the tortuous way of life. Who always met me with a smile. The storm which swept Life's ocean, where Our little bark, at anchor lay. Oft rudely stirred the waters there, in our snu^ harbor, " Sunshine Baw" And clouds, which o'er our pathway wept. Their silver linin\\eet On evening: air at set of sun. Tlie ne\s' born day Finds thee still praising Him who loves and cares for All his creatures, it is mete. Prophetic, art thou, bird ! Tin presence brings visions of swellini; bud>. wild Flowers. b\' Kini;; Winter's rei.^n entombed, till Spriiiijj's Hnchantinii voice is heard : Nature's resurrection day : When the dead shall heir the voice: '"(^ome torth ai^ain Be warnu-d to life b\ >>ummer"s sun .;nd shower I " And io\full\ obe\'. THH KKASON WHY. You naui^htx . wicked bo\ I "' she said. " To kill those prett\ birds I I've halt a mind "' her e\e^ flashed fire. More dan^i^erous than her words. Please, miss." the friichtened boy replied. Cowerinij; where he sat ; 1 had to kill these Orioles To trim m\ sister's hat ! " 22 THH I^IVKH BEND AND OTHER POEMS. THE HOOSIER NECTAR. The sprints; is kinder linti;erin' In Winter's lap tliey say, Though the wild si;eese go a honkin' north An' the birds hev come to stay ; Yet there's an achin' void which can't Be filled by birds or grass- A hankerin' of the soul which cries For tea of Sassafras. I jest set down sometimes and long For them Indiana woods, When we uster, in the early days, Git purifyin' moods ; And usher in the early spring, Singly, or en masse. By washin' down our corn pone bread With tea of Sassafras. We'd never heerd of microbes then, In fact, they wasn't known ; The wisest doctors in the land Had never yet been shown Such things as we are findin' now - With magnifyin' glass — But they can all be driven out With tea of Sassafras. It's jest too bad, Mirandv says, That she can't fer a minnit Set out doors a pan of jellv 'Thout them critters gittin' in it ; An' you git 'em in your system Jest by eatin' of this sass An' to git 'em out we hev to drink The tea of Sassafras ! THE HIVEH BEND AND OTHER POEMS. 23 Pennyroyal may be fairly good. Er Boneset. to the taste. But drink in' store tea in the spring; Is onl\- jest a waste; Ef you want ter purit\- \ er blood. An' avoid too much "blue mass," Jest grab a grubbin' hoe and dig Some roots of Sassafras An' bile 'em fer a spell, and drink The tea three times a daw An' the megrums and blue devils Will forever tlee awa\ . There comes a time in all our lives When the heasens are as brass. An' blood corp'sules jest holler out For tea of Sassafras ! Some men >pend iiearK all their lives At colleges and sich. To dig out roots with skeerv names That haint no use. and which Are used to mystify and skeer The ignoranter class. Who jest go on from spring to spring. Drinkin" tea ot Sassafras! We alius brt-w some ot this tea. In spring twilight, soft and dim. An' git the old blue teapot out An' till it to the brim ; Then set and quaff this beverage Until we gentK' pass In sweet dreams, to Indiannx, with Her tea of Sassafras ! 24 THH HIVHH BEND AND OTHER POEMS. THE SUMMER'S FAREWELL. Dyint; : Suinnier with her birds and flowers ; Leaves with blood-red colors iJ:linting hi the smoke veiled sun's soft tintina; ; To regretful mortals hinting, Death to summer shine and showers. Slowly dying ! Fading : How the summer flowers are fading ! There yet remains the goldenrod To greet the world with graceful nod, its sweet face lifted up to God, With answering tints of sunset's shading. Sweetly lingering! Flitting : See how summer birds are flocking. For the warm south home's returning ; Knowing well and well discerning Warmth and food there waits tlie earning. Where Nature's door opes to their knocking. Happv songsters ! Chafmg : Ah. mv soul, what a glad winging ! Breaking cords of care and toiling Hands and hearts forever soiling, Flving far from labor's moiling. To All the earth and air with singing ! Life's unchaining ! THH KIVH1< BEND AM) OTHER POEMS. Passing : IJke the summer, life is passint:; I How. like chan^iiii; leaf of m\Ttle Fade we. fall and pass the portal Leading; to the life immortal. Where the Kiiit:; of Life is sittint^ 1 Swiftly passinjjj ! DISILl.USION Her e\es were ot the deepest blue. Her teeth were white as pearls: M\ heart beat at a furious rate : Mv eves were fastened to m\ plate : Mv e.^o said : '* She is xour tate This prettiest ot ,ij:irl» ! '" And when she raised her face to mine. What sweetness tilled m\ cup ! But when with ear of corn between Her lil\ hands were to\in^ seen. She <;nawed the rows oft. slick and clean. I si.^hed and i^ave her up I 26 THE HWER BEND AND OTHER POEMS. HIGH LIGHTS. Last evenin' 1 was left alone and kinder fell to musin' 'Bout them times when all the world was sort o' slow and shore; When the days were meant for work, and the nights were used for snoozin', And the latch-strino: used to hani^ from everybody's door. How we used to ride to church in any sort of weather Behind a patient ox team, with a jolly lot of pairs, Who warn't never in a hurry and did not care much whether They got there just in time for first or second prayers. There's no such thing as hurry and 'twas little use to bother An ox team as it took its way from early morn till night ; But the delibTate way they put one foot before the other, To a man of moderation was a very restful sight. 1 seemed to see before me, my cabin wall's adornin'. The strips of pumpkin dryin', with Calamus and Sage, The Pennyroyal, Boneset, Tansy and the dry seed corn in Rows, for the spring seedin', and the Catnip for tender age. The plates up in the cupboard all set on aige and gleam in' In the light from open fire, in the tire place, big and wide. The dancin' shadders on the walls, the tea-kittle a steamin'. The backlog throwing sparkles out the andirons beside. That the world is makin' changes is not to be disputed, But if you jest could see the sights I witness every day, You'd wonder jest as 1 do, how sech High Art evoluted, An' got tangled up with Bricky-brack in such a skeery way. THE HlVtl^ BEND AND OTHER POEMS. Our Sunday wash-rags all have jj;ot a Jaberwock a starin'. My boot-jack is a pinchln'-bus. with wild, protrudin' eyes. With Ciriftins on the wash-bowl, while the pitcher is a sharin' The deep glow of one of Italy's most excited skies ! 1 eat mv fish on Fridays from one of those hand-wrought dishes, With a pickerel painted on it, jest a gaspin' for its breath, While the butterflies, the millers, and the thirst\- little fishes 'Round the aige. give silent witness to its \er\ cruel death. Mirand\ sa\ s the painter^ in the medie\al ages Worked long upon their picters for the\'d nothin' else to do An' descanted 'bout sech art on history's future pages While 1 ^ewed nn a button fer to hitch m\ gallus to! An' as fer taking lessons, folks don't think of sech a thing : They jest git brush and canvas and paint picters on the run And pester old Dame Natur' or shoot her on the wing With the ever-present Kodack. or the photographic gun ! Then there's Extension I.ecters. plain people's thoughts beguilin'. And leading their ambition and intellect astray. By 'Varsit\- Professors, jest to keep their pots a bilin'. Which ma\ be would be difficult in an\' other way. And women in the sixties, doin* Delsartean acts. An' imitatin' antics which our frisk\ maidens do; And tr\in to be graceful at expense of achin' backs Land of hope and blessed promise I What's the world a comin' to.^ 28 THE HIVEH BEND AND OTHER POEMS. WHEN THE BLOOM IS ON THE CORN. When the i^oldenrod is budding On tlie iiills and by tiie streams, As an earnest that it soon will glad Our eyes with sunny beams ; When the katydid persistent sings From early eve till morn, All nature seems to joy with us When the bloom is on the corn. The goldenrod with nodding plumes In every waste place grows ; The katydid, in thrilling tones, Pipes the only song it knows ; .Esthetic people, at these two. May curl their lip in scorn ; But flower and song are dear to me. As the bloom upon the corn. 1 sit me down sometimes and long For those bright fabled lands. Where sweet perennial roses bloom "Mid billowy waste of sands, But content myself with wondering If it would not be forlorn Ne'er to mix those sweet breathed tlowers With the bloom upon the corn. THE HIVEH BEM) AND OTHER P(3E.N\S. 29 And oh. when Want or Famine, sore. Rears up its tarnished head ; While children tuii; at mother's skirts With huniirN- cries for bread ; How sweet "twill be to still those cries. Across the waters borne. Bv sending them relief, because The bloom is on the corn. If all the plants, exceptini: corn. Were compressed into one. For crownini: ot the kinii of earth. For the i!;ood that he had done. Kin^^ Maize would then be laurel wreathed. And proudlv would be worn. Amid the plaudits of the world. While the bloom i> on the corn. Proud lt)\\a. with tlowers bedecked. As fair as an\ bride. To thee I sin^ this simple strain. With a heart uplift of pride. As nations turn their e\es to thee. Their children vet unborn Will bless thee, with uplifted hands, For the bloom upon the corn. 30 THE HIVHH BEND AND OTHER POEMS. CHRYSANTHEMUM. She peeps at me throuij;h the window pane As I pass with Hngering pace ; How sweet she looks, but does not deign To invite the touch which I would fain Place on her witching face. How fair she is in her dainty dress, And wherefore is she come, In winter season thus to bless Us with her blooming ? Can you guess Her name ? Chrysanthemum ! How sweet of her, when the year is old. With the breath of frost and ice. To link the seasons, warm and cold. With floral chain of red and gold, Of Nature's own device ! Oh, queen, well worthy of a crown ! To teach us thou art come. To give brightness for a winter's frown ; Thus smiling all despondence down, Like thee, Chrvsanthemum ! THE HIVEH BENT) ANT) OTHER POEMS. 31 OUR HOOSIER STATE. We sirifj: the Hoosier's glad refrain In joying that we meet again. To sing a song and shake the iiand hi memory of our native land. Oh, Hoosier Land. Loved Hoosier Land. With r vt-rs. lakes and forests grand : Our thoughts are turning back to thee. And in our vision still can see The old well sweep, the cabins low. Our happ\ homes of long ago. Our thoughts go roaming through the glade. And rest at times beneath the shade Of Paw Paw tree, or spreading Linn. The sweet Black Haw or Chinquapin. Oh. Hoosier Land. Lo\ed Hoosier Land. Th\' visions rise on every hand : We ride again, with little jov ; Along th>' roads of Corduroy. And drink. v\ithout a trace of smile. Tin Boneset tea in ever\- style ! Dear Hoosier State, our memor\"s pride. We love thee. la\ ing jokes aside. We crown th\' memory to-da\" With wreaths of Dogwood blossoms gay. Oh. Hoosier Land. Loved Hoosier Land We for th\' honor ever stand ; We'll ne'er forget the taste or smell Of Sassafras and Calomel ; We'll drink thv health without remark In Whisk\- mixed with Cherr\- Bark ' 32 THE RIVER BEND AND OTHER POEMS. IN MEMORY OF J. ADDISON HEPBURN. Folded hands, now white and still, Silently surrenderini;- All to God's most g;racious will ; Gone, beyond all care and ill, Dust to dust now rendering; ; Folded, placid hands, Once such busy hands. What to them life's busy throni^; From it now dismembering ? He, whose life was as a song ; A heart which carolled all day long. With notes well worth remembering. Folded, icy hands. Once such clinging hands. Folded hands, now sweet in rest, Friendship's strong ties sundering. Feeling that God knoweth best. Consenting to His high behest. Weeping still and wondering ; Folded, idle hands. Emptv. trusting hands. Folded, tired and weary hands, Quietly and trustingly. Waiting the Father's loved commands, To rise to sun-kissed upper lands. In peace the Savior's face to see ; Promise grasping hands. Happy, clinging hands. THE RIVER BEND AND OTHER POEMS. 33 MY I.ADVS VIOLIN. If I were but her violin, kestin^^ beneath her diiiipleJ chin. How happ\ would I be? With tini,^ers pressing here and there, riliJinir in cadence ever\\vhere. With touches Iii!;ht and passing tair. That would be heaven tor me. It I were but her \'ioIin, Her soul-entrancinii violin I It I were but her violin. Restinjj: beneath her snow-white chin, What could 1 want beside I With tinijers tair b\' her caressed. Reposin^^ on her heaving breast. IJke chirpin.u: birdlin.u in its nest. Could there a woe betide. It I were but her violin. Her spirit-soothing^ violin ? 34 THE RIVER BEND AND OTHER POEMS. It I were but her violin, Pressed lightly by her rounded chin, How silent would 1 lie ! Waiting the touch of magic bow, Wielded by arm as white as snow. Giving me voice, now loud, now low. In sweetest melody, If I were but her violin. Her foot-bewitching violin ! If I were but her violin. Pressed lovingly beneath her chin, Ah, what ecstatic bliss ! To feel the throbbing of each vein, As from sweet music's tangled skein Come sounds as soft as summer's rain. When storm clouds gently kiss ; If I were but her violin, Her wooing, cooing violin ! If I were but her violin. With envied place beneath her chin, How sweet would be the note Td yield to her caressing hands, The treasure which her skill demands ; Or, servile be, as slave who stands To kiss the hand which smote, If I were but her violin, Her heart-subduing violin ! THE RIVER BEND AND OTHER POEMS. 3S If I were but her violin. To rest no more beneath her chin. How sad would be the day When Music's daughter was brou bread with scarceness. Sharing with his poorer neij^hbors ; Honors thrice to 1.. P. Sherman I Learned them in the settler's cabins At their frugal dinner tables. Eating corn pone without butter. Spearini:; bacon from the skillet Where it swam in richest ^ra\\ ! Ah. those time^ ot want and scarceness. How the\ welded hearts to,i:;ether In a wa\ not soon lorj^otten ! (ieori^e d. Wright, the >tor\ teller. The just Judiie from Keosauqua. He has told me mam stories, Mixini:; up m\ tears with laui,^hter I You remember Martin Tucker. Who had ■• stablini:; at ri,u;ht ani^les," On his ta\eni built "• condition." 38 THE KIVEH BEND AND (3THER POEMS. Ran an " avenue " throuj^h the middle, "Detained" sj;uests in "iiostile " manner ? And Squire Younii;, tlie tiioughtful student, Drove a nail in tloatinti; pontoon. At the water's edi2;e he drove it, In the evenini>;, at the '' Float Bridge," Thus to note the rising water. In the morning, though the river Looked more angry and seemed wider. He declared it had not risen By the tell-tale nail's position ! And the jovial Billy Woodwell, Once, when east to buy some hardware. Loaded up a boat with grindstones. Thus he argued to his partners: — " Everv one must have a grindstone ; Rich and poor ot every station Needs one of these circular sharpeners — What is life, without a grindstone ? We must boom the grindstone business ! '" Billy Moore, the old-time druggist. Drifting into dry goods, notions. Hats and caps and ladies' bonnets. Had his store oft filled with buyers ; By his genial disposition. By his long old-time acquaintance, Bv the tremor of his eyelids. Winked them out of lots of money ! When the spring unlocked the rivers From old Winter's icy fetters. When the wild goose flying northward Hinted at the coming springtime, THE HIVHH BEND AND OTHER POEMS. ^9 Visions brought ot birds and violets ; Then there came a sound far sweeter. Listened for by anxious settlers ; Looked for with intensest ionj^inj^. Far adown the rapid river Came a sound of proionj^ed harshness, Somewhat softened by the distance, lold the coming of a steamboat First arrival of the season ! Babes were left in cradles sleeping. Stores and oftices deserted. Men in haste, with hair disheveled. Women, uith sunbonnets swinging. Sometimes without shoes or stockings, Sped with hastening feet to landing. (ilad t(i meet the new ani\al. Six da\s trom the Mississippi. Linking us to civilization ! Ah. the comforts thev have brought us. Kice and sugar, tlour and bacon. Tea and cotlee. drugs and dr\ goods. Hardware, millinerx whisky ! How the men ail f \ cd those barrels Longed to taste their tier\' contents ; How the women longed for bonnets ! Wondered if the\\i be becoming ! Names ot boats you tain would ask me : Here the\' are. trom memory's storehouse See if you can recognize them : The lone that brought the soldiers : Caleb Cope, Add Hine. Kentuck\-. John B. Gordon, (ilobe. Luella. Clara Hine and Little Morgan. 40 THE HIVEH BHNl) AND OTHER POEMS. Des Moines Belle and Charlie Rod,tj;ers. Flora Temple. De Moine City, Badt2;er State. Nevada, Alice ; And, no doubt, there were some others. Which have slipped from cells of memory. You remember Isaac Cooper. Eneru:etic early settler. Dul:; the first well in this county. Usinii; as a tool a skillet ; Made the first shoes in this township, From boot legs and skirt of saddle, Becoming, thus, the first " bootlegger." Ezra Rathburn. the first preacher. Gave first sermon in this section. Followed soon by many others. Thompson Bird, of blessed memory. Broke the Bread of Life in cabins. Trudged on foot to meet appointments. Sometimes swam his horse through rivers ; His was love that waters quenched not. For his heart ne'er ceased its singing ; His was zeal that darkness dimmed not. For his lamp was trimmed and burning. J. A. Nash, the much lamented, He. the loved of everybody. Founded the first Baptist mission. In the great flood year of Iowa. Eighteen fifty-one. when rivers Swelled by rains in torrents falling. Crept beyond the banks' contuiing, Flooded all the river's lowlands ! THE RIVER BEND AND OTHER POEMS. 41 Should you ask a Baptist brother Of this year ot tribulation. If. between this flood and foundinii;. There was an\' real connection. He a pitxint; look will ^ive \i)u. But no word \sili L,Mve in answer. Let tile iianie^ ot earl\' settlers E'er be wreathed in brightest laurels ; Let their memories be cherished ; Tears for dead and cheers tor living:;, 'Ihey have smoothed life's ru^i^ed pathway For the coming feet of children : They have laid a i^ood foundation Broad and deep, tor coming thousands V\'ho will tread the>e truittui \alle\s. When the ( )ld World, i^aunt and huni^rw Turns her lon^in^ e\es to Iowa. Land ot corn, wheat, milk and honey. Kissed ot (jod. b\ >un and shower ! (lolden. ^hiniui:; links of friendship. Welded b\ half century's for^in^s. In the time when Want and Scarceness Were unbidden quests at firesides. Year b\' \ear are bein^ broken. Like the tinted leaves of Autumn When the soft wind breathes upon them. They are fallini:;. Thex are passini:; To the •• House ot Man\ Mansions I Thus we sinti; a son.^ of .gladness, Mini:;led with re.u:rets and sorrow. For the man\ missintr faces 42 THE HIVEH BEND AND OTHER POEMS. Which were wont to niini2;le with us ; Joying in the glad possessions They have left to living children. There is still an old tradition Reaching back into the ages, That our Iowa, in creation Was the happy Eden Garden, Where, in summer, our first parents Walked this land in airy costume. Isaac Brandt told me this story Years ago, when these broad prairies Caused his heart to throb with pleasure Charmed the eye of all beholders. 1 believe this sweet tradition. 1 believe by excavation in the soil, so richly laden With the food for every nation. We mav fmd the bones of Adam ! TILL DEATH DO US PART, " Where are you going, young man," she said, " With pistol at your side? " " I am going to ask a fair young girl To be my bonnie bride ! " " Suppose she refuse," the maiden said ; Then he tapped his belt of leather ; '• Should she decline with thanks, we'll climb The Golden Stairs together ! " THE HIVKH BEND AND OTHER POEMS. 43 JUNIOR HYMN. Oh. God. we lift our hearts to Thee. A little prayiiifj; band. To Thee, the source of ever\- ;j;ood. Oh. lead us b\ the hand. And teach us. b\ '\h\ love so free. That bo\s and i^iris ma\' trust in Ihee. We come with youthful hearts to-da\ To siniz: Thy sonjj;s of praise ; To riiee, our father's Ciod to Thee Our earnest voices raise. And ask that Thou, o'er all this land Will bless the Junior (1. H. Band. A^ bo\s> the tender mother's ear Jo catch the prattler's word. Sweeter to her than an\ sound R\ which her heart is stirred. So ma\ the Savior's heart, to-da\ . Be ^Maddened while the Juniors pra\ . Oh. JJiou. the source of lite and lii^ht. We raise our thoui^hts to I hee ; Lead Ihou us on. in works of love. Jill we I In face shall see. JJieii shall we see. and hear, and know WJn (iod the Father loves us so. 44 THH HlVhH BEND AND OTHER POEMS. THE FIRST SNOW OF WINTER. Whirlint:; and swirlinii; the snow comes down ; Beautiful snow with its crystals pure. Covering valleys and forests brown. Unsightly streets of country and town, The first intimation of winter's frown, The joy of the rich, the dread of the poor ; Oh. cruel snow, with flakes so white. Thou art falling on her grave to-night ! Silently, softly, the cold flakes heap, Fighting for place on the wintrv ground ; Shrouding the graves where the flowers sleep. Drifting on plain and rocky steep In many a curious shape and heap. Covering the old and new made mound. Oh, winter's snow, with veil so white. Thou art resting on his grave to-night ! In open fire upon the tiled hearth Come forms and images of the misty past. And trooping forth comes sharers of the mirth In years behind you. when the whole round earth Seemed all of jow and came no dearth. Nor shadow on your happiness was cast ; Nor could you say of hope's young blight. The snow is falling on its grave to-night ! THE HIVHH BEND AND OTHER POEMS. +S D\\nii: are the coals within the .^rate. Anon the ashes throii.uh the bars are cast. Their hves consumed. Such is the tate Of those who live for others, and who wait With patience, born of trust, the future state. Where Peace and Jo\- review the shadowy past. With heart cries stilled, nor chill afrii:;ht. Of winter's snow upon the ^na\e'- at nit:;ht ! EARLY CALLHl). Verv handsome Youn<; man. he : Father rich as Rich could be. Luck\ chappie I Smoked cii^arettes Day and ni^ht ; Air tij::ht casket, •• Out of slight."' Weeping parents. When men die for want of sense. We sobbiiiii. whisper. " Pro\idence I 46 THE HIVEF^ BEND AND OTHER POEMS. WHEN THE MISTS HAVE PASSED. For now we see through a glass, darkly.— 1. Cor. xiii, 12. How we grope and blindly wander, As we pass life's journey through ; Judging men and women harshly In so many things they do ; For our vision is so darkened By the veil which hides the day, Till the sun shall rise in splendor And the mists shall roll away. Men we've marched with in life's conflict, Touching elbows in the line, Bivouacking on the battle fields, Kneeling at the self same shrine ; But their hearts were veiled and hidden, From trusting friends for aye. And whose love for them will brighten When the mists have passed away. There are men in humble stations. Toiling for their daily food ; We oft pass them by with coldness ; They are not understood. Bve and bye, when we shall see them In the sunlight, we shall say : ' Would that we had known you better. Ere the mists had cleared away." THE HIVEH BEND AM) OTHEfi POE.WS. 47 When our wealth is weighed in balance. How strange will be the sight. That the fortune of the miser Don't outweigh the widow's mite ; When a cup of water given. In a gentle, loving way. Will bring joy unto the giver. When the mists have passed awa\' ! lo HhNK'Y W \l I Hh'SON. Ah. Watterson. xou bra\e old bo\' ! We're glad the war is over : And now the North and South will live In harmonx and clos'er : We'll nevermore go round with chips Perched on defiant shoulder : Nor let the hate of North or South Within our bosoms >moulder. God bless our Henry Watterson. For his patriotic stor\- I Three cheers for our New North and South. And a •• liger" for "Old (jlorv!" 48 THE HIVEH BEND AND OTHER POEMS. THE OLD HAWKEYE BAND. Respectfully dedicated to the survivors of 1860. Your big State Band is awful nice ; Its music is jest ii;rand ; But you oughter lieerd, in times gone by, The famous " Hawkeye Band." Lor', there was harm'ny for the soul. And music fer the feet ; The verdick of them days was that •' Sech music's hard to beat ! " A. Hartung was our leader, Ed. Kimball blowed the bass, Billv Boyd the leadin' cornet. And Newt Curl the second place ; Hutton, Carter, Houstons, Hussey, Bitting, Estabrook and Hoare, With Sam Noble second Tuba, Made up the jolly corps. Our clothes were not as fine as ther'n, Ner wore sech handsome caps. All trimmed with brass and old gold lace And lined with silk, perhaps. We wore our best no two alike Ner did we ever 'spose The crowds which hung around, entranced, Hed come to see our clothes ! THE HIVEH BEND AND OTHER POE.WS. 49 You'd oughter seen us fellers march Fust time, on a parade ; Fer ever\' man tuck his own time And acted kind o' 'fraid. You see we wasn't used to sech ; And from fust man to twelfth. He started out onto a gait Jest suited to hisseif ! We had no big " Drum Major " man A whirlin' of a club And a struttin' proudly on before To the drum's sharp " rub-a-dub." We pla\ed the chunes to suit ourselfs With all our soul and mind. And no one " guyed " a pla\er ef He was a bar behind. The chunes? Wall, you uill think them (»ld- To me the\ "II ne\'er die ; The "Java March." the "Soldier's Jo\." " Katy Darling." " Nellie Bly," ' Massa's in the C^old, Cold Ground," •• 1 he Long. Long Wear\- Da\-." The •• Haw ke\e Polka," '* Polonaise." And •■ Darling Nellie (jra\-." Ah. well. 1 'spose that ever\thing In time will pass awa\' : And every band, as well as dog. Must also hev their da\- : But if 1 am so fort'nate As to tramp the golden strand. 'Twill not be heaven at all to me Without that " Hawkeve Band ! " so THE KIVEH BHND AND OTHER POEMS. COMODORE KELLY'S NAVY YARD General Kelly's Industrial Army arrived in Des Moines, Sunday, April 29. 1894, and finding no means of transportation at hand built scows at the junction of Des Moines and Raccoon rivers and embarked on May 9, and continued their journey. The wives of sjme of the citizens joined the flt)tilla, but were sent back as soon as the fact became known to the Commodore. The " angels " alluded to were two women who joined the arm\- at Council Bluffs, and shared its fortunes. They had state rooms on the " Flag Ship." THE RIVER BEND AND OTHER POEMS. 51 THE FklEMJ IN NEED. Bear them i^^ently. bear them ii;entl\'. dear river of Des Moines, Down through our much loved Iowa, where your sparkling waters join The Mississippi river, with its calm majestic sweep. As it runs its race with patience to swell the vasty deep, Where the ocean will receive it, send the waters back again In soft, refreshin^^ >h(»\\ers, to gladden Iowa's plain. How sweet of nou. dear river, when our folks began to shout That " KelK "-« hungr\' arm\' had worn their welcome out ; " W'hfii railroads, so aggressive and so tond of the " long haul,\ Would not even furnish "hog rates," — or an\ rates at all; How sweet of you, I sa\ again, to bare your breast and say : •• Come, rest upon this bosom ! Accept this shining way ! " ( )h. sandbars! Hide xour faces now. and be \e water-veiled, I'litil this fleet of working men ha\'e past \()ur presence sailed ; And snags, v\ill \\>u please clear the track and let the navy go. Unhindered and untrammeled, on its winding wa\ and slow? C^rab apple blossoms, when \ou can, perfume the gentle breeze. To mingle with grape blossoms' scent bow low. ye willow trees ! Be kind to them. oh. ri\cr ! Encourage them to think 1 hat it's good for outside cleansing, as well as for a drink : And shore sands, be \e softened, where the gentle ri\'er flows, As the softest beds and pillows where the rich man may repose ; And silver moon, unclouded, give them thy gentle ray. That b\- sunlight and b\ moonlight, they may hasten on their waw 52 THE RIVER BEND AND OTHER POEMS. On the hit^h and holy duty on which .^^Hd^l ^'^ shake the Tree of Fortune -and the yl^^lK^li Don't delay them, little Eddyville, at your .j^^^^^E '"'j A ^ H j^' P'l' them up with grub and move them ^^^piPwii^^ Keep Al Swalm clean off the Flag Ship — AL SWALM. lest to all our grief, They should take him down to Washington as a captive Indian Chief ! This world can not he equal made, no matter how we try ; For some must eat the stale brown bread, while others " swipe the pie ! " And it is not unnatural that the common tars should roar, That " Kelly hugs the angels, while we have to hug the shore ! " Ottumwa, why be timid ? Let General Kelley land His fleet and take collection to the music of his band ; His tars are very harmless — you need not fear your lives — Leave your chicken coops wide open — but fasten up your wives! I always thought 'twas uniforms which charmed a woman's gaze — But brass buttons are " not in it " compared to pretty ways ; For women are intuitive and maybe this is how They see the noble purpose which wreaths each manly brow. Keosauqua, give them welcome, with provisions without end — They'll need it, these brave sailors, when thev voyage round that bend Of fourteen miles and over. Don't mention it, alack ! Lest they fear there is no ending and try to paddle back THE HIVEH BEND AND OTHER POE.WS. 53 Just pass them o'er those rapids, on, past oM Bentonsport, To the twelve foot dam at Bonaparte, for here there'll be some sport In ^ettinj^ the fleet over. For the boys it will be fun : And it's altogether likely that there'll be more d ns than one • Then Farmington will pass the boys aloni:: the river tine. And Missouri then will share the work of keepini:; them in line ; Perhaps, too. in the wa\- of feed, she'll lend a hand at that. And while the .tz;lee club sings a song. Kellv will pass the hat. Bear them oh. so gentK'. river sweet, let nothing interfere To cause the men or " angels," to shed a single tear. Oh. favoring winds I ( )h. current strong! Bring to them all good luck. And land them on the border line, tour miles from Keokuk ! 54 THE RIVER BEND AND OTHER POEMS. VERNAL LONGINGS. It's yet a bit too early to plan for comin' spring, An' yet I'm gittin' anxious to see wild flowers once more, A noddin' in the sunshine, while the bees upon the wing, Sip eagerly from morn till night the honey that they store For winter's use, when storm clouds lower and frost is in the sky ; There's wisdom in jest sech a course, as it would seem to me — Far there's lots of us poor workin' folks a standin' idly by, Who wish now they had taken some pointers from the bee. I'm hungerin' an' a thirstin' to hear the robin's note At sunset, on the topmost twig of his favorite elm tree ; As he carols forth his gladness as to almost split his throat. Don't you think he could give pointers in praise to you an' me ? Whene'er I hear a robin sing, I alius have to smile At the earnest wav he tackles it an' carries it along — I haint so fond of music, yet 1 b'lieve I'd walk a mile To hear his '' Peep-kuk-kill-'em-cure-'em-give->m-physic " song. I want to see the tender grass on sunny slopes a sproutin'. An' comin' up to rest the eve from winter's robe of white. An' hunt fer dandelion greens an' slowly walk about in Shirt sleeves -an' dream of bacon, which is my heart's delight; Er else set out of doors on the lee side of the woodpile An' watch the hens a scratchin', with their trim an' yeller legs, With a sharp look out fer bugs ; an' 1 alius have a good smile As my thoughts mix with their cackle, of future ham an' eggs. THE HIVER BENT) AND OTHER POE.WS. %^ The hen, as I have sized her up, is a very honest bird ; Her voice has no ^reat compass but she has some pretty wavs ; An' of all the farmyard son'i;sters that ever 1 have heard, 1 believe that Tm enamored, mostly, of her recent lavs ! Just think of it ! Our Ha\vke\e hens, when busily at work, increase our working capital a million, every year; She attends no " Hen Conventions '* an' was never known to shirk, While she sini^s her modest anthems our hunixrv hearts to cheer. Yes. I'm Lclad the winter's breakin' an' the wild 5j;oose north a tlvin' In his harrow-shaped procession, marked on the softened skv. An' hear the honkin' note as the day is slowly dyin', lellin' us ot tlowin' rivers, as he passes slowlv bv. Old Winter ! We'll forgive ycni, an' fer^it \-our frosty pinchin' In the joy of your departure an' your later meltin' wa\s : An' our hearts beat hij^h with hope of the pleasures weTl be sippin'. When Nature, resurrected, joins us in a h\inn ot praise. So I'm ion.^in' fer the sprini:: time, with a deep an" earnest loni;; : When winter's woes \\ ill fade away an' tlowers take their place ; When bird^ in woods and meadows, will cheer us with a son^ That will make us all fer^it we've met Sorrow, face to face. Old Earth is tipping; to the south to meet the summer's sun ; '* Old Cilory." with her starry folds, waves o'er our land to-dav ; Have faith in (iod the Father and with each dut\- braveK' done. We need fear no i:;reat disaster to our loved America. 56 THE HIVEH BEND AND OTHER POEMS. k Ea5t:ef DaijI '* The swellins; buds thy coming wait; The puss willow with feath'ry fronds, ''' Lightly, in limpid streams and ponds Dip eager boughs with joy elate : Oh, Easter Day ! Dear Easter Day ! Oh. Easter Day ! The violet blue, with eyes intent Upon the shining track above, Gazes with an unuttered love. To mark the way our Savior went : Oh, Easter Day ! Dear Easter Dav ! THE HIVEH BEND AND OTHER POEMS. =i7 A DREAM. 1 had a funny dream last nip;ht — ( I wonder if 'twas true ? ) It came in such a curious way, That I must tell it you. An evening had been spent in bliss Amon^^ some maidens fair. With sparklin^f e\es and rosy cheeks, And ever\' shade (4 hair. The time how spent, you ask. m\ friend. In such a jolly crowd .'' Pro<;ressive Euchre?" Guess a.^ain. "Whist ? " " Conversation loud ? " Ja\\> moved at rei^ular intervals "Ti^ true, but lips were dumb From cherub mouths came not a sound — 1 he\ all were cheuini^ ^aim ! The ii:\\\ 1 l()\ed was in the throni;. And soon 1 sought her out - We walked amid the tlowers and trees, And everywhere, about ; I told her all my heart, and asked, •'Will you m\ wife become?" She deeplx sighed she pressed m\- hand But kept on chewint:: ,i:;um ! 58 THE HiVER BEND AND OTHEH POEMS. " Joy of my heart ! " 1 said, at lensi;th. " Queen of my soul ! My pride ! Breathe in my ear the happy dav When you will be my bride ! " 1 waited answer, while my heart Beat like a muffled drum : She heaved an able-bodied sigh — And calmlv chewed her gum ! " Oh, name the happy day ! " I cried, " And let me call thee mine ; My fortune at thy feet 1 lay — 1 worship at thy shrine ! " My fervor seemed to startle her. And, almost overcome, I kissed her mantling cheek, while she Continued chewing gum ! Oh, glorious day, that made me now So happy in my choice — 1 answered all the questions plump — My heart was in my voice. She nodded an assent to hers — The preacher was struck dumb — 1 hardly could believe my eyes — She still was chewing gum ! THE RIVEJi BEND AND OTHER POEMS. M\- dream then changed — it seemed to me That she had passed away To that bri^^ht land, where sunshine holds An undisputed sway. The vision brightened as I gazed into the world to come Lo ! there she stood, with liand-picl\ed saints. Forever chewing gum ! THE FAMILY THOl'CiHT, A tear clung to her e\elids wet ; Her heart was all distraught Slie'd quarrelled with her husband, dear. These souls with single thought. He wished the thought for base ball rules. And she, on the contrarv'. Desired to use it for herself. In new st\ie milliner\' : Thus, often is life's battle fought R\ mariying without second thought ! 60 THE RIVER BEND AND OTHER POEMS. GENERAL JAMES M. TUTTLE. The hero cahnly sleeps ; Nor cannon's roar, nor music's sweetest breath Can now disturb his slumbers, while his death A nation sadly weeps. Hero of Donelson, Iowa, her tribute, lays upon thy grave ; Her torn and war-stained banners wave Over her fallen son ! Ah, that brave charge again, At Donelson, while a world wondering stood At the great gallantry and hardihood Of Iowa's brave men. Hope of the Nation they. As through showers of leaden hail and shell. Never men marched so bravely, nor so well. As Second Iowa ! THE HIVEH BEND AND OTHER POEMS. 61 Up, higher 1 Hifi;her still. Silently, but sureK'. the\- climb ! The\' mount Where earthworks frown and Glory deeds recount. Led by this hero's will. First on the earthworks. Now Cheering to deeds of valor th\' brave men ; Earthworks and r>' be bright Hero of Donelson ! 62 THE RIVER BEND AND OTHER POEMS. IN MEMORIAM. Respectfully dedicated to the Second Iowa Infantry. Scatter flowers, beautiful flowers, On the graves Of the braves ; Sleep they sweetly here, enbalmed by many tears ; Whose brave deeds grow brighter with the passing years, As higher on the scroll of fame each name appears, Written in blood. Scatter flowers, choice spring flowers. Where they sleep. As we weep Tears of gratitude to those who bravely wrought Out a Nation's destiny ! How poor is thought To tell the great blessing to a people fraught By such sacrifice. Cover them with flowers, unfading flowers, O'er the head Of the dead ; Dying, that no star upon our country's crest Might be dimmed nor lost. Heeding the high behest, That one flag should wave o'er North, South, East and West, Whate'er the cost ! THE HIVEH BEND AND OTHER POEMS. 63 Cover them with flowers — Immortelles; For the dead tears. For the living, cheers ; Ah. those heroes of Shiloh and Donelson. Where waved first our flag on rebel earthworks won. While a Nation watched, waiting to shout, " Well done. Brave bo\s in Blue ' " Scatter choice flowers, Memorx's flowers, Ever\- May, hi memor\" Of those who. when called, counted life not dear. But laid it gladly down withcnit a fear : While our Nation lives, shall we not each year Bedeck their graves ? JULY. Oh, Jul\' sun, let up. let up ; Before you bake us brown. Or dri\'e us to the lakes and woods. Far, tar awa\- from town 1 The sun said, with c;iloric smile : " C^)me. listen now. my dears : It I don't work this month, what would You do for roasting ears .-^ " 64 THE HIVER BEND AND OTHER POEMS. TO MARGARET. Merry, little dancing feet, Eyes with tint of heaven's blue. With her little ways so sweet, Joyous all the long day through ; Sometimes wayward, sometimes gay, As the notion takes my pet. Smiles now chasing frowns away From the face of Margaret. Winsome little lass, may thou. Guileless in thy glee and fun. Ne'er to Sorrow's mandate bow, Nor walk thorny paths upon. Roses blooming at thy feet. With the dew of heaven wet. Are to me not half so sweet As my little Margaret. Oh, Thou, who dost guard and guide Little ones through sun and shade. Keep her ever at Thy side ; Let her hand in Thine be laid ! May the sunshine she imparts Ne'er be dimmed by a regret ; Loved is she by many hearts ; Little fair haired Margaret. THE HIVER BEND AND OTHER POEMS. 6^ FREE CURRENCY. Do not quarrel ; do not fret : Not the thing to do, \ou bet ; Better take a sight of chaff. Pass it b\- with quiet laugh. Than work yourself into a pet And be caught in passion's net ! Do not quarrel ; do not scold Smiles are silver ; laughs are gold I What a grand world this would be With such a free currency ! Better smile with e\elids wet. Than fall into passion's net ! Do not quarrel nor complain Life's made up of sun and rain ; Touch a life with rain or snow — How the sweet heart-tlowers grow ! There's peace for those who do not get Tangled up in passion's net. Do not murmur or repine ; Hope ! "lis like a rare old wine ! Hope ! There's plenty and to spare ; Hope ! 'Tis rising e\er\where ! Better, though, its star should set, Than fall into passion's net ! 66 THE RIVER BEND AND OTHER POEMS. Rint,^ out, ye bells, on Chrisdnas Day. THE RIVER BEND AND OTHER POEMS. 67 CHRISTMAS BELLS. F^ini; out, \e bells, on Christmas Da\ . In happ\ . jo\i)Lis strain : Let all the world with them rejoice. For the day has come a^ain. When to a waiting world there came, Ihe lon^ looked, wished for birth Of ( )ne who came of low estate. To bless the expectant earth. Briiiii h(ill\ berries, crimson red. Pine, tir and mistletoe. Let all the children's hearts rejoice. For in the Ciolden Loni; A^o. He was born, the Wonderful. Counselor, on earth to dwell. Walkin.Lj Judean streets about, God with us Emanuel. I've ij:a/.ed upon the starr\' host, And wondered which the star (iod honored thus, to be the ii;uide Oi Wise Men trom atar. How bright it must haw shone that nij^ht. Conscious that its moving ray, Would lead the seekers to the place Where the infant Jesus lav ! 68 THE RIVER BEND AND OTHER POEMS. And then its work was just half done, For now, on Bethlehem's plain. The shepherds saw a wondrous sight. And heard the grand refrain : " Peace on Earth, good will to men ; " Sung by the Angel Choir, While all the sky was now ablaze With bright, celestial fire. "Fear not; for unto you is born," The lingering angel said, " Christ, the Lord, in Bethlehem, And in a manger laid ! " Then lo ! the star to them appeared At once, with cheering ray. And stood above the stable, where The sleeping Savior lay. Oh, Earth, bring forth thy frankincense. Thy myrrh, thy hoarded gold, Thy adoration for this King, Whose coming was foretold ! Not all the wealth that thou canst bring. Nor treasures yet to be, Can equal in Love's balances. The love He has for thee ! The star, and what became of it. Your wond'ring hearts would ask ? Perhaps God sent it to its place. Having fulfilled its task. THE RIVER BEND AND OTHER POEMS. 69 May be. in His .^reat love for us. He caused it to tj;row dim. That we mi^ht look beyond the star. And worship onl\' Him ! Oh. j^lorious star ! Oh, t^lorious thread Which binds us all in love ! Never before, such Christmas Gift From lovin^^ hands above : So ma\ our hearts be full of joy, With music, uifts and mirth, l^ejoicinu in this da\- of davs Blessed bv a Savior's birth. 70 THE RIVER BEND AND OTHER POEMS. YOU KNOW IT. To smile is better tlian to frown. For smoothin.y; ruffled feelings down. You know it ! Then why lament at every ill ? Is not the old world rolling still. And sunshine kissing every hill ? You know it ! Men can't redeem the minutes past, Nor lift the shadows on them cast ; You know it ! But on life's road of weariness, As footsore, tired pilgrims press, A warm hand-clasp will often bless ; You know it ! Ambitions never reach their goal ; Nor fill the hunger of the soul ; You know it ! I knew a king a conqueror, too, Who sat and cried with loud boo-hoo. Not having further work to do ! You know it ! THE HIVEH BEND AND OTHER POE.WS. 71 Man never reached the hiiJ:hest shelf. By hving solely for himself ; You know it I Kin<; Solomon, with all his pride Of wealth, and man\- wives beside, Confessed he was not satisfied ! You know it ! One day a herald will appear. And leave a message all must hear : You know it ! Then, ver\' softlv. one will tread. Where lowly, lowl\- lies vour head. And sa\-. •• Hf Idwd iiic : He is dead ! You know it I MISAPPRHHENSION. He read the book with threat surprise And said. •• How she abused her e\es ! She threw them at the frescoed ceiling : They fell as if the\- had no feelini; ; Then rested them on the cool lati:oon. And brou,i:;ht them back. ah. none too soon For with a cr\- and .<2;lad embrace, Thev fastened on her lover's face ! " 72 THE RIVER BEND AND OTHER POEMS. A THANKSGIVING SUGGESTION. The parson had preached from the beautiful text, " Little children, love one another ; " And he told of the mansions now being prepared By Jesus, the elder brother. And he spoke of the River of Life, bright and clear, And the songs the redeemed will sing ; And the palms they will wave and the crowns they will cast At the feet of Jesus, the King. And oh, best of all, the friends we have loved — Not lost — but just gone before. Who are waiting to greet us with fondest embrace. When we reach that evergreen shore : Where arms will be twined in a loving embrace Round the dear ones we've loved in this life ; Where children as brothers and sisters will stand. With united husband and wife. And he spoke of the love which Jesus imparts — That he smiles from his bright home on high, When we show to each other the love which he showed — For a lost world to suffer and die. "■ Oh, that wonderful love ! " the good parson said, " If you have it, my sister, my brother. Let it flow in good works ; for as Christ has loved you. So ought ye to love one another ! " THE RIVER BEND AND OTHER POEMS. 73 Now Widower Gripem had lingered behind ; " Oh, parson," he said, " tell me where That beautiful place is. 1 loni:; much to know. For 1 feel 'twould be sweet to be there ! '" " Next Thursday's Thanks^ivin*;,"' the ^^ood parson said. " Now there is our poor Widow Gray ; Her larder is empty; her hearthstone is cold — She should have a ^ood dinner that day." '* Send up C(»al and p()tat()e>. with Hour and rice : A turkey for roast i n ti - and tea. Cranberries for sauce, su^ar-plums tor the boys And oh. how happy they'll be ! And then in the evening be sure that \(>u i:o For with propriet\' sureK \(>u ma\ And read one ot David's most comforting psalms. Then kneel with the tamil\' and pra\.*' The advice was well taken and oh. such a pra\er. And oh, such a vision ot bliss ! For peace, like a river, stole into his soul - And the widow's hand stole into his ! When robins were sin^inu; as vou ma\' have j^uessed. In the sprinii; time, when the weather was brioundin' sea, Who woke the mornin' echoes, and all sleepers for a mile. With his loud •• Pi<;-o-o-e-e. Pii:;-o-o-e-e. Pi;in, An' ^it back to furst principles. So I hev kinder bin A polishin' up m\' mem'r\. and a uittin' my sails set. So's me an' Mirand\ kin sail on. without a ij:ittiir wet. There comes a lot of mem'rxs, a crowdin' up bv score, A standin' just like soldiers, in ranks before yer door. As you set there, with pipe alight you want to ast 'em in — The hull blamed kit an' bilin' an' keep 'em ef you kin. I like to think of ^ood old times, "bout t"ift\- \ears a- steep Make haste to don her vernal dress. While robins sinj; a roundelay. Oh, Easter Daw upon the breath Of earlv sprin^r comes this -rand thou^^ht That He who slept in rocky tomb, 'Mid hours of deep encirclin^r ^rioom, Has mankind's resurrection wrou<;ht. By break inir prison bars of death. 102 THE RIVER BEND AND OTHER POEMS. CHRISTMAS. You can tell of coming Christmas, By the jingling of the bells, By the many happy faces, Which are blooming in all places. Where the busy merchant sells. By the Christmas trees on sidewalk. By the turkeys, big and fat ; By well-behaving girls and boys. Expectant of new Christmas joys, Remembering " where they're at ! By the many merry greetings, By the softened hearts of all ; By the patient time abiding, And the very careful hiding Of presents, great and small. And so our thoughts are turning To the sweetest of all days, When Love goes out a smiling. Her lap with presents piling, Singing songs of joy and praise ! THE HIVEH BEND AND OTHER POEMS. 103 THE POET'S PEEA. SiiT^er. where do \oii find voiir joyous sonf2:s ? " I find them al\va\s read\- made tor me ; There's scarce an object in this \\i»rid ot ours, I^ut can be turned to sweetest poesy. The ureat wheel at the busy factor\- luims A melodv to m\ untutored ears. Much sweeter than the grandest, swelling ^on-j; E'er set to music b\' tlie rolling spheres. The joyous notes of liappy. whistiiii'-: men. Who. treed from labor's carkiui:;. wear\ .^rind, Whistlinij;. homeward trudi^e, loved ones to i^reet. Is best and grandest music to m\' mind. My tanc\" pictures, where, in humble homes. The tires ot love upon the altars burn. The wife's bright smile, the prattling" children's kiss. To welcome the tired father's iclad return. The noxious thistle, with its wiiiLced seeds, is full to overflowing with reflection's food To thoughtful men. reaching us that we may sow, Unwittini2:l\-. the seeds of bad and trood. 104 THE HIVEK BEND AND OTHEI^ POEMS. How sweet 'twill be. if, at the end of days, When life's sun dips beneath the summer sea, To think, God willing, that our tj;ood seed sown, May fmd rich soil in nations yet to be ! The organ grinder, on our public street, Or, as he serves me at my very door, Reminds me oft that, better far his work. Than grinding e'er the faces of the poor ! Pathetic, too, it seems v/ithal, to me ; Trudging about with "weary step and slow — " He sadly points to me that time in life When all the sounds of grinding will be low. The bird, which cleaves the air on tireless wing, is a sweet poem, ever dear to me ; For, without chart or compass, lo ! its flight Is guided over unknown lands and sea. Then, will not He, who gave me, unasked, life, And placed my feet upon the thorny road. Well marked by stones, all stained by bleeding feet. Bring me at last, to His own blest abode? The chrysalis, with hidden germ enclosed. Has naught pleasing to unobservant eyes ; And yet, with patient waiting, warmth and care. Comes forth the gauzy, bright-winged butterflies. Will not He, who holds worlds in boundless space. Whose care extends to groveling things of earth. Give us such form as seemeth good to Him, When haply, we receive our second birth ? THE HIVEH BEND AND OTHER POEMS. 10=; And ask you. then, where do I find my son^s ? They come to me in countr\- or in town ; The wind, the sun. the rivers whisper me. And 1 ? I only <,rladly write them down. 'Tis easy when \ou know just what to say : The field is lar^^e and pleasant is the work - If you have praise, bestow it on the Muse. For 1 am just her confidential clerk ! SPRING, She is comint,^ up the valley. She is climbin^r o'er the hills. Strewini,^ flowers to the music And the laughter of the rills. With Violets and Sprin;,^ Beauties Her daint\- hands she fills. She is comini; up the vallew Brinfj;in,<,^ with her len^-thened davs, Keepin^r time to merry son^ birds And inspirin^r „i.,tin lays, Minirlin^r sprinir time's welcome music With children's out door plays. 105 THE RIVER BEND AND OTHER POEMS. COIN' TO FARMIN'. Goin' to farm, me and Miranda is ; Tliat's what President Stickney says ; " Crappin' it," now is jest the biz, So President Stickney says. Sez he, " The cities haint got room ; Ef ye want to escape the impendin' doom. Git out — or starve in one small room !" So President Stickney says. Now, out door life is jest the chalk, That's what President Stickney says ; So 'bout five millions hev got to walk. So President Stickney says. Out on the land and raise big " craps," To feed the ling'ring suburban chaps. And we'll all be happier — perhaps; So President Stickney says. " What people want is more to eat ! " That's what President Stickney says, " For big crops, Iowa's hard to beat ! " So President Stickney says. THE RIVER BEND AND OTHER POEMS. 107 " So we're ^om' to do our level best. To feed the hungr\' an' oppressed^ Fillin' vacuums of those distressed ! " That's what Mlrandy says. " All wealth must be dui; from the .ground ! " That's what President Stickney says, So folks had better look around. So President Stick ne\' sa\s. For a place to dig. And then begin To dig like everlastin' sin. To git cities on their teet agin 1 So President Sticknev says. " Now. tarmiir haint so all tired hard I " That's what President Stickney says ; Sez he, ** I'm speakin' b\ the card ! " So President Stickney says. •' Makes difference though, jest where you ar\ Er view it. from anear or far From ha\ rack or a palace car ! " That's what Mirandy says. " Yov're wantin' prosperous times agin ! " That's what President Stickney says ; "• Git out on the tarms and fetch her in I '' So President Sticknev says. " We haint the kind as'll stand aroun' And see our gov'ment go down. Jest 'cause we want to live in town ! " That's what Mirandv savs. 108 THE RIVER BEND AND OTHER POEMS. Five millions of us hev got to i2;o ! That's what President Stickney says, To ease the cities' overflow ; So President Stickney says. "Say! Got a i2;ood farm anywheres? We'll leave the city and its snares, And "go to crappin' on the shares ! " That's what Mirandy says. TEARS MINGLED. She lost her ear-rings in the well ; Alas, and a-lack-a day ! She wept and mourned about it, Till her lover came that way. Why did he mingle tears with hers. Nor words of chiding spoke? He remembered when he bought them, How he put his watch " in soak ! " THE HIVEH BEND AND OTHER POEMS. 109 COLUMBUS DAY. We're ^oin' to hist the good old tlatj:, me and my wife. Mirandy, Been lookin' for'ard to the day. and kept "Old Glor\' '' handy ; So. when (Columbus day arrives, no matter what the weather. We'll tl\ it from the roof, and shout for Christopher together. You bet it makes old folks feel good, and sets the blood a biiin'. To think about Ameriky and her flag with stars a smiiin' ; An" all the way we hev bin led by Him who has delivered Our countr\' from her perils oft. sence we hev bin diskivered. Ef it hadn't been for Christopher's inquirin' disposition, A long felt want an' cravin' heart to better his condition, What would we all hev bin to-da\- ? Historv' supposes We'd be eatin' acorns round a tire with brass rings in our noses ! An' a wearin' 'coon an' 'possum skins, a livin on half rations. An' a dancin' them ghost dances like the other Indian nations ! We'd ort to thank Queen Isabel, fer the blessin's which surround us But fer her mone\"s talkin*. Chris never could hev found us. Great man\ pet)ple in this land haint got no comprehension 'Bout the bigness of the enterprise that history makes mention ; But jest set down and argw and turn in and insist it Was sech a big track of land he never could hev missed it ! no THE RIVER BEND AND OTHER POEMS. Some folks say that he was stuck on hisself, as navigator — But I can't find sech facts confirmed by any old narrator — Don't b'lieve he cared a copper cent fer hist'ry's future pages, But ter find a land to waltz round in 'thout fallin' off the aiges ! Well, 1 guess yes, he found it, too, this Capting of the Pinto ; Though San Salvador was the fust place Columbus entered into — I've alius thought it was a shame, sence he was out a coastin'. To stop at sech a one-hoss place when he could hev sailed to Bostin, An' made them Bostin folks feel good, an' gay as a red wagon. By addin' to their stock in trade of things they like to brag on ; May be, though, it's jest as well fer those days of hist'ry dim, As they might now all be claimin' that they diskivered him ! Many a man in these fast times would hev fretted at delay, While Isabel was gettin' ships fer him to sail away : Columbus sweetly smiled at fate an' didn't get disgusted — An' he wa'n't afeerd of collary, ef his pictures kin be trusted ! My eyes git kinder misty like, thinkin' of Columbia's lack — In them tryin' days, she didn't hev a hull flag to her back — But now, from drizzly Oregon to Maine's high rocky shore. She's dressed in stars — an', woman-like, is hoUerin' fer more ! So me an' Mirandy, we will fly the starry flag together ; We'll hist it from our cabin roof in any sort of weather ; We don't keer fer rain that wets, er a cold wave that benumbs us, We'll jest turn in an' shout our best fer Christopher Columbus. THE RIVER BEND AND OTHER POEMS. Ill Our Iowa, amon^ other lands, was diskivered somewhat later. By men who've made her what she is. Kin \(Hi pint out a greater ? Up with " Old Glory " then, that day ! Put the flag-staff in the socket — There's no persimmon up so high hut loAa's pole kin knock it ! Tilt: TAK'll-l-. She was so tall and he so short, She said 'twere onl\- fair. If he reall\ wished to kiss her. He must stand up on a chair ; 'I'hen climbing down, in raptures. He said : '* Look a here, Mariar That's a splendid illustration Ot sugar getting higher ! " 112 THE RIVER BEND AND OTHER POEMS. CHRISTMAS CAROL. Christmas songs are in tlie air, Caroling sweet ; Answering voices everywhere, The strains repeat. Love and Peace walk hand in hand. Whispering low : Scattering blessings o'er the land, They singing go. Christmas songs are in the air. Echoing wide ; Tossed by voices here and there. At Christmas tide. THE HIVHH BEXD AND OTHER POEMS. 113 Hope and Joy, with arms entwined, Wanderinj^ forth. Touch the hearts of all manl\ind. O'er all the earth. Christmas son^s are in the air ; The anfi;els' sont:;, Sun^ to wond'rin*; shepherds there. Their sheep amoni:. Is echoinic 'round the circlint; earth. And blessing them. Who sin^ the soni; of the .-JM^V- 114 THE HiVEH BEND AND OTHER POEMS. WOULD LIKE ANOTHER CHANCE. These times are not what they used to be, 1 hear the old men say — In school modes, or in colleges, in business, work or play ; The folks who got their schooling in the days so long gone by, Look with envy on the present ways, and draw a weary sigh. The trouble is, as 1 suspect, our early date of birth. Ere Knowledge, with her nimble feet, ran swiftly o'er the earth ; And Wisdom cried about the streets, her virtues to enhance — So, after all, I don't know but I'd like another chance ! I miss the old slab seats — and the fireplace long and wide; The high and slanting writing desks, along the rough logs' side ; 1 miss the squeaky quill pens, with home-made ink made wet. As in falt'ring hands they followed the copy that was set — " Command you may, your minds from play — " 'twas pretty hard to do In those old davs. 1 wonder if 'tis easier in the new ? I hope the rule of love, these days, all cruelty supplants. Making the old log school house boys long for another chance ! I miss the good old-fashioned games we used to play at noon — That hour seemed the shortest — study coming all too soon; Ah, those dear old games of " Shinny," " Town Ball," and " Crack the Whip ; " THE RIVER BEND AND OTHER POEMS. 115 And the lau^h we'd ^ive the fellow, when he'd sometimes " loose his the Solid l\'o«:k. Its turrets reach the sky, Thf pillars which support theni Are Love and Faithfulness. Its walls will be adorned with Many ^oodl\' stones, Broujj;ht from the mines of Cheerfulness, And curiousl\' wrou<;ht. By years of wear\' toil, ma\hap. And man\" tears and groans. With uhich life's sad experience is often dearl\- bou.uht. Our rooms will all be beautiful. With everxthint^: so ,i:;rand ; Here Faith will fold her tired wings. And settle down to rest. 120 THE RIVER BEND AND OTHER POEMS. And Hope, upon a pretty little Pedestal will stand, While Charity will have a place Where pleaseth her the best. The process has been very slow, As, one by one, the stones Have found the right position in the slowly rising wall ; And ah ! the sad mistakes we've made, Which memory bemoans, And replacing the defective ones, In sadness we recall. Oft times, when storm clouds lower. We'll climb the turrets high. Hand clasped in hand with Faith and Hope, To view the farther shore Of the land of Hope and Promise, Which sometimes seems so nigh. As it lies in quiet grandeur, Our home for evermore. Some day, not now, in other lands, We'll read with moistened eyes, The meaning of our crosses here. And deep, unuttered sighs ; And kiss the hand we could not see. Because our eyes were dull. For polishing these tear-washed stones, For " Temple Beautiful." THE RIVEH BEND AND OTHER POEMS. 121 We are building, we are buildini::, My little wife and 1, A temple called " Ihe Beautiful," Nor lands have we possessed. And oh ! the jo\- 'twill i^ive us. If. in the b\e and b\e. The temple is accepted by The Kini: of Rii^hteousness. WHICH ? The New Woman and the Old Man Discussed, the other da\ . Deep and portentous questions : And each one had a saw But the discussion waxed the hottest. When they settled down to this Momentous question, whether •' Bloomers are .'' " or •* bloomers is ? " 122 THE RIVER BEND AND OTHER POEMS. A THANKSGIVING TOAST. November, with Thanksgiving, passes out ; December, with its Christmas, cometh in ; We say farewell to first, with feast and shout. Then prepare for the happy Christmas din. And thus it is, the dear old earth goes round. Bringing gladness to so many girls and boys ; But not to them alone, for I'll be bound, The old folks will be sharers in their joys. In November, walk we 'mid the falling leaves, 'Neath the sun's close-veiled and smoky glow ; In December, where old Winter's tempest grieves. Sowing lavishly, the treasures of his snow. And thus the fleeting seasons, one by one. Glide so quietly that they hardly leave a trace ; For the summer season is no sooner done Than the sun kisses earth's averted face. In November, heap we up, in golden piles, God's best gift to our Iowa — golden corn: December, greet we her with tears and smiles. For, in her death, the glad new year is born. Thus the days, months and years, in cycles come. And their beauties to the eyes of all unveil. Leaning on the promise, of which this is the sum " Seed time and harvest shall not fail." THE RIVER BEND AND OTHER POEMS. 123 In November, lift we i^nateful eyes above. To Him. tor the truitai;e of the year; In December, give we feasts and i,Mfts of love. Filling earth full of joyous, happy cheer. And thus, in the changing future vears. May each heart, with happiness, be crowned. Looking up. oft through many smiles and tears, To the great Love, which makes the world go round. THH ROUNDUP. What? Old John (ii)ldbug dead? How sad! And didn't leave a cent? Wh\-. he was rich as Od-sus was— I wonder w here it went ! " And then the sorrowing heir replied : •• You see he lost his health In getting rich. To gft that back. He then lost all his wealth ! " 124 THE RIVER BEND AND OTHER POEMS. ■;: *A THE HOMESICK HOOSIER. I've been thinkin', lately, thinkin' of my old home in Indianny, An' the cabin 'mid the beech wood, 'bout forty years gone past ; An' I've tried to pictur' in my mind the many, many changes, Though I like to think her over jest as I saw her last. I'd like so much again to hear the old cock pheasant " drummin' " In the thicket, on the old log, he used from day to dav ; That was his idee of courtin' — but don't let him hear you comin' Er he'll slip down in the hazel bresh and hide hisself away. THE HIVER BEND AND OTHER POEMS. 12=; En I want to ^ro onct more to a good old-fashioned su-arin' En watch its .granulations as the '' stirrin' paddle'" whirls — En when you talk of sweetness. 1 hev lost m\- reckolecshun As to jest how 1 decided 'twixt the sugar an' the ^nrls ! En ef it wasn't wicked. I'd like to. jest onct more. Step off -Monev Musk," or "Chase the Squirrel," upon a puncheon floor ; never keerd fer waltzin' to the fiddle's witchin' sound - You kin hug a gal much better when she haint a - bobbin 'round ! " 126 THE RIVER BEND AND OTHER POEMS. An' 1 want to jest set down to a good, old-fashioned dinner ; Corn pone and biled pertaters, " chicken fixins " on the right, Corn beef and cabbage, jowl an' greens, with artichokes an' onions ; Roast pig with apple sass, or jell — an' everything in sight. Ef everything's before ye, ye can make some calkerlation. An' kinder map out in your mind jest what yer want to do ; But when there's only dishes, ye kaint make prognostication Regardin' what you're goin' to hev — ontil ye most get through! 1 never could get onto this new-fangled way of feedin', Fetchin' a little, timid like, as ef they thought 'twas pore; Hn when ye'd settled down on somethin' suited to your eatin'. Whisk off the dishes, knives an' forks, an' fetch along some more ; En settin' at the table, mebbe, 'bout three hours or over, En changin' dishes 'leven times, an' poppin' champaign corks ^ THE HIVER BEND AND OTHER POEMS. 127 Ef 1 was mowin' hay away as bizzy as tarnation. Ye bet 1 wouldn't want to stop an be a chani2;in' forks ! 1 kin count my herds of cattle b\- the thousand, on the hillside. Perarie land by sections, household treasures money couldn't buy — But ef I had the calm content of that cabin in the beech wood 1 wouldn't swap it off not for mansions in the sk\' ! 128 THE RIVER BEND AND OTHER POEMS. THE UNDER CAT. The poets have sung in lofty strains, Likewise all the sages doth write, In high-toned verses, with tears bedewed, 'Bout the under dog in the fight. They'll tell you, in deep concern, the wrong Of strong over weak, and that. But never a whimper you'll get from them, When you talk of the uppermost cat. To those who watch these felines " scrap," in their noisy, boisterous ways. Observe that victory's not to the strong. But to wise old Tom who lays Upon his back, with claws unsheathed. His eyes with green fire alight — Shed tears for the uppermost cat, but bet On the under cat in the fight. The air will be full of long drawn sighs. With vision of claws and fur. With spittings and cussings, world 'thout end, But with them nary a purr. You may talk of your " knock-out " slugging bees. Your bicycle races and walks. The rowing of boats, or shooting of guns. For the under cat, " my money talks." THE RIVER BEND AND OTHER POEMS. 129 There's joy in the battle's roar, they say. But Vd rather take their word. For 1 'spose it makes some difference Where you stand, when it is heard : But just for pure enjoyment, like. 'Thout risk of life or limb. is to watch two felines wa{j:e a war. And the under cat bet on him ! it's lots of fun, they tell me, too, When track and weather's tine. To watch the face of the knowint^ man. Who has bet on the wroni^ equine. How he does cuss his own bad luck. While the wiiuier throws his hat Hi^h in the air, with lusty shout You see, he's the under cat. This lite is mainl\- a battle tor bread. For raiment, shelter and rest : And happv is he who can lau^h at tate. When he comes out second best. The earth he knows turns o'er and o'er. In its never-wearying tlii^ht. And he smiles to think that halt the time He's the under cat in the t'ltrht. 130 THE RIVER BEND AND OTHER POEMS. PLAIN JANE AND ME. I alius keered fer fancy names, er sech as sounded well, A slippin' smoothly from the tongue Catherine er Isabel, Isadora, Wilhelmine, Hellena, Josephine, Er Manner, er Susanner, 'Lizabeth, er Imogene, Till 1 saw an awe-inspirin' girl, with her head well up in air. An' a kinder look which seemed to say : " Jest tech me, if you dare ! " My theories all took to flight — my heart thumped lustily. An' acknowledged that plain Jane was good enough fer me ! Of course she was superior — anybody could see that, Bv the upward tipping of her nose to match her jaunty hat ; An' the way she put her foot down, as she walked along the way, Servin' notice on the men folks that 'twas goin' down to stay. How 1 trimbled when 1 took her hand, an' with lover's down cast eyes. Asked the question she expected — with a look of feigned surprise — Chewed her handkercher a minit an' what she said, you see. Will never be reported by either Jane or me ! Apple blossoms are as pretty as the orange fer a bride. An' everybody thought so, as she towered by my side, So self possessed an' conscious, so smilin' an' so sweet — An' 1 all of a trimble, an' could scarcely keep my feet ; THE RIVER BEND AND OTHER POEMS. 131 An* the crowd there all a i2;i.^jj;lin" within the festive hall — But 1 saw 'em kinder misty-like, if an\" wa\" at all ; " Will \ou have this "ere woman ? "' the preacher sez, sez he ; An' 1 murmured that " plain Jane was trood enough fer me ! " Life's jest a streak of sunshine, bordered all alon*:; the way ; While flowers nod approval, where'er m\- feet may stray, A lightin" up the narrow path with colors warm an' brl,i2;ht But 1 know now how the moon feels, shinin" with reflected liii;ht ! I haint a bra^^j^in' of it. thout^h I'm .glad to make a note Of the fact that I am privileged to go an' cast a vote ; But the honor seems an empty one, for I reck- 1£9S. Forty years in Iowa ! How curious it seems ; Like the passin^i; years of tancw or the mistiest of dreams ! To look back from this Mizpah. at the swiftly flying years. Marked with more of jo\' than sorrow, with more of smiles than tears ! To look back on the changes, for the better, it ma\- be, To the straggling, dirt\' village, to the city which we see. Friends tell us that she's smokier than ever ! Fie. for shame ! Clean or dirt\-, she will ever be my sweetheart, just the same. 140 THE RIVER BEND AND OTHER POEMS. Suppose the smoke-clouds stand above, as in the days of old, To mark the tabernacle, and the sacred tent enfold ; It means Prosperity some day, will settle down to stay, And fill the place with factories which will not run away ! Would that it were thicker ; and a thousand factory throats Were belching it from lofty stacks, to their whistles' noisy notes ; We know the soot and grime 'twould bring — but with it comes the hope Of swelling purses, making it the easier to buy soap ! Forty years in Iowa ! And the changes they have wrought, To swell her growing triumph ! Ah, who ever thought As he plodded through the mire, in a desultory way, He would travel dry shod over bricks made from this very clay !' Who could have faintly pictured then, the glory of a home 'Neath the shadow and the glitter of the Capitol's bright dome ; Or swap slow stage for railroad, bringing commerce from afar ; Or harness up chained lightning to the swiftly moving car ! Forty years in Iowa ! And the friends we've gathered here ! How these golden links are strengthened, with every rolling year ! Tilts and quarrels may have sometimes embittered every cup — But the " Spirit of Des Moines " says : " Kiss and make it up." Cheer up and sing your peans to the State we hold most dear. Which celebrates her fiftieth anniversary next year. Get on your knees and ask the Lord to let you see that day — And don't forget to thank Him for a home in Iowa ! Forty years in Iowa ! This maid when " sweet sixteen," Sent out one hundred thousand sons — the bravest ever seen — To save a Nation and a Flag vile hands had fastened on, And wrote their characters in blood at Shiloh. Donelson, At Wilson's Creek, at Corinth, from '' Atlanta to the Sea," THE RIVER BEND AND OTHER POEMS. 141 And home by way of Richmond as proud as proud could be ! They brou^dit •'Old Glory" with them— which not a son dis- graced — Faded, and torn, and tattered — but not a star displaced ! Forty years in Iowa ! Where Peace and Plenty walk : While Famine, sore, and Hunger, outside her borders stalls. Ah, who can speak the glories of this Queen, witli Plent\"s horn. As she sits to bless the nations, from her throne of golden corn ! And who ma\- tell the future of the man\' \ears in store. When her name, her fame, her goodness, are sung from shore to shore, As a land of sun-kissed prairies, where Plenty ever reigns - There's no hurr\' about Heaven, while Iowa remains ! SHH HAD. '• Didst e'er contribute for the press ? " Asked the editor with smile. Looking in her bright blue eyes, Her hand in his. the while. " (^h. yes," she said, with interest deep. And face with blushes bright ; " I often do that is to sa\-. By turning down the light ! " 142 THE RIVER BEND AND OTHER POEMS. HOOSIER RECOLLECTIONS. 1 reckon 1 am jest about as old-fashioned as can be, An' kinder lianker after good, old-fashioned things ; Old-fashioned songs and stories — an', so far as 1 can see, The good old way of courtin', an' the style of weddin' rings. I've alius had an idee, that, in the good old way Of puttin' on a weddin' ring in such a solemn style, Twould last longer an' cling closter, than the style in vogue to- day, When promises are lightly made for such a little while. I git to thinkin', sometimes, an' questionin' myself, An' askin' : " Are we happy as in days gone by. When livin' was more simple, an' the mad pursuit of pelf Did not absorb our bein's ? " An' my answer is a sigh. Is there a Hoosier living, who would willin'ly exchange The ager for the microbes, the bacteria or gout. That you swaller with your vittles, or take in at short range,. Through your breathin' apparatus, to eat your vitals out ? Jest think of it a minute ! In the good, old-fashioned days,. The doctors had plain names for diseases of all sorts; They mixed calomel an' jalap in the most enticin' ways. An' tackled ailments boldly, from pneumonia to warts. THE RIVER BEND AND OTHER POEMS. 143 In these days of swift progression, our piiysicians do not trrope In the dark as did our doctors ; for if they have a doubt. They light up our interiors, as long as there is hope. To see jest what is in us — an' try to knock it out ! I 'spose I've laughed a thousand times 'bout the old st\ie of courtin' The boys an' girls accomplished by the fireplace, long an' wide. While the unsnuffed taller candle, its sputterin' wick disportin'. Threw shadders dim. upon the wall, of the couple side b\' side. With taller dips fer sparkin'. 'lectricit\- isn't in it. When safety and convenience are the things you talk about ; If they ever got too brilliant, it onlx took a minnit 10 rise to the occasion an' gently snuft 'em out! I think the st\ le ot kissin' in a >mall niom is the worst, Which sounds like the quick drauin" o\ a colfs foot from the mud ; Cii\in' parent^ the impression that the \east bottle has burst. As it breaks upon the stillness with a loud resoundin' thud. I miss the old well sweep, with its salutations bowin". As it brought the drippin" bucket from the waters cool below, With the holKhocks, the poppies, an' the tall sunflowers growin' B\ the well side where I've da\ morning, after all needed supplies were purchased. the canoes were sent to the west branch of the river, near the creamer\ . (,)uite an interest was excited in seeing the dainty little crafts loaded. Each one had a cargo of at least seventy-five pounds, and it seemed to puzzle the onlookers to know where it was all to be stowed and \et leave room for the crews. One gen- tleman begged that we would not start until he had assembled his famil\' on the bridge to see the departure. All the "• duffle," as canoeists term it. was safely stowed so as to trim, the painters were loosed, and. with the crews aboard, the canoes shot down the swift current with onl\- an occasional stroke of the paddle to guide. Ciood-b\es were said, hands and handkerchiefs were waived, as the bridge was passed and the rapid current soon bore us out on the two hundred mile cruise homeward. How beautiful is this west branch of the l)es Moines ! Nar- row, swift, bounded b\' high. rock\ shores, and running over a ^8 A HIVEH lUYL. rough, rocky bed, full of rapids, the roar of which could be heard for a mile. The scenery is wild and picturesque, sometimes a rockv cliff, sometimes a spreading, rocky beach, covered with trees, vine clad, and wild roses evervwhere. Some of the rapids were a fourth of a mile long, and the turbulent waters tossed the plunging canoes like corks, now dipping their noses under water and throwing the spray high in the air as they rose from the plunge. It is estimated that these rapids run at the rate of eight miles an hour, and the shooting of them w^ould be a dan- gerous experiment in a time of low water. There is nothing in canoeing so exhiliarating as shooting a rapid. The nerves must be steady, the eye quick and the hand ready. As a general thing, a canoe will find her way, but she must be kept " head on," for in striking a rock sidewise, the force of the current would capsize you in much less time than it takes to tell it. There are probably twenty-five of these rapids, large and small, including broken dams, between Humboldt and Fort Dodge, none of which are dangerous except in a low stage of water. The west and east branches of the river form a junction about nine miles below Humboldt and it becomes wider, yet by no means less wild. The forests become more dense, the rocky cliffs higher, and the river, in some places, looks as if it had cut its channel through solid rock. Nature is a tireless worker and a few thousand years makes no especial difference to her in the completion of a piece of handiwork. Boulders, weighing many tons, are to be found in the channel, around and over which the waters rush and roar. Occasionally a large piece of the cliff has become detached and falling into the channel would form an obstruction over which the angry water would surge and hiss, forming miniature whirpools, beating the water into a white foam. When the water becomes clear the upper part of this river will be a paradise to fishermen. A few casts of an artificial fly were rewarded by a fine, three-pound, wall-eyed pike, which A HlVtl^ IDYL. 159 made an excellent dinner for two. with somethint:; to spare. Later in the day, some bass were taken, and in the evenin*:;. a three and a half pound pickerel was caught on a Buel spinning bait. As the cast was made from a hij:;h rock, he had to be tired out before he could be landed at a point considerably above, where a shelvinij; rock reached down to the water's edtj;e. He made several hitj;h leaps in his U^ht for liberty, but as he was thnilv hooked, a springy rod did the rest. The encampment was made that night in a very pretty spot, opposite a high bluff. A cold stream ran out of the hill into the river and made a handy place to stow our milk and butter after the evening meal had been cooked and eaten, A farm house near at hand supplied the milk for a small consideration and the two voyagers were happ\ . The canoes were '' shored up." that is, they were placed on an even keel in a level spot on the bank and sticks of right length were placed under the beading to hold them in that position, a quantity of feather\' willow leaves and twigs were strewn in the bottom, over which rubber blankets were spread, then the cushions were placed thereon, the air pillows bkiwn up. the under and upper woolen blankets were put in position, the canoe tents hung on the two masts and but- toned down on the sides of the canoes, a mosquito bar thrown over each door to guard against unwelcome visitors and climbing in they went to sleep amid the perfume ot wild grape blossoms, wild roses, and the music ot the whip-poor-wills. Did vou ever hear one of these birds sing within a few yards of \ou ? The\- make a peculiar little noise before beginning their song which 1 can onlv liken to the whirring of a clock before it strikes, after which the\- repeat their song from ten to eighty- tive times. b\' actual count. Then, after a few seconds' rest, the whirring sound is again made and the song proceeds. Many people regard the song as a mournful or sorrowful one. To me, it is one of the pleasantest, on account of its plaintive earnest- ness and general desire to be social. 160 A HIVEH IDYL. Next morninii; we were awakened at day lij^ht by the snort- ings of a frightened horse. He had evidently come down to the river's bank to drink, and seeing the canoe tents In the uncertain light of early morning became so affrighted that he plunged into the river and swam for dear life to the other side, giving a fare- well snort as he clambered up the rocky bank and disappeared In the woods. An hour after, the coffee was boiling, the bacon was frying and a hearty breakfast was made, preparatory to a start on the downward course. A fog veiled the river until nine o'clock, while the high bluffs and forest trees were lightly kissed by the sun, turning them to burnished silver. The river, as Fort Dodge is approached, is very wild ; rocky, with high cliffs, from which the wild grape vine clings and the wild rose blooms in every available place. Large bouquets were gathered and placed in the forward mast tubes where they shed a grateful fragrance and delighted the eye at short range. The wild rose is one of the wild-wood beauties which appeal to the human heart. They seem to take delight in making glad the desert and waste places. Sometimes they were found growing from between clefts of rock where there seemed to be no soil or sup- port, and yet they clung and bloomed sweetly In the face of all dlflkulties, whether the eye of man ever enjoyed their beauty and fragrance or not. In the morning, they are a beautiful, bright pink ; at noon, a lighter pink, and at evening, the leaves are blanched and ready to fall — a life of beauty and fragrance for onlv one day. No one will deny that they perform God's mis- sion well, in seen and unseen spots. Is not this a lesson to mortals, that wherever their lots are cast, the perfume of theii- lives in good words and works may ever be ready to cheer the passer-by on the journey of life ? A steady roar far down the stream told us that we were approaching a dam or rapids. It proved to be the ruins of a dam a few miles above Fort Dodge. Some workmen who were quar- rying rock shouted to us to go to the other side, where there A RIVER IDYL. 161 was less fall, but we did not think it prudent to change our course, so our staunch little crafts plunged over the three feet fall, burying their noses in the foam, but shipping not a drop of water as they dashed down the cataract like mad, to the amazement of the onlookers, who, no doubt, supposed the little crafts would be swamped. Sometimes there would be quite a long stretch of river with a sharp turn to right or left, and from a distance it would look as if the stream terminated then and there, but on approaching the bend, the \\a\ would be unfolded as if by magic and the course made plain. I could not help thinking how much it resembled, in this respect, the stream of lite, down which all are cruising, some listlessly, some thoughtfully, and some beset with fears within and without. There come times in manv lives when the way seems shut up, when the sk\' overhead is as brass and the dew of heaven falls not. Yet tht-y who go forward hopefully, cheerfulK- and trustfully will ever find a way for their goings. Fort Dodge was reached about nine o'clock. A rumor had been started in some \\a\ that two Indians were coming down the river in canoes, and quite a company had assembled near Heath's oat meal mill to see the sight. By some miscalculation or inattention to business, 1 allowed my canoe to drift on a sand bar and had the humiliating privilege of taking off my shoes and stockings and towing her to deeper water. A landing was made at the wagon bridge, and the tirst man to greet us was our old townsman, H. 1\*. Heath. Two hours were spent in getting some supplies and looking over Heath's magnificent oat meal mill, which is the pride of Fort Dodge, and calling on a few acquaint- ances. Fort Dodge is a prett\-. thriving little town, with abundant material for ever\ kind of a factory. You can find anything here, from limestone rock to material from which to make a " Cardiff Giant." Adjutant General Baker once explained the formation of this wonderfull\- diversified region by saying that " when the 162 A RIVER IDYL. Lord finished makinti; the earth, He had a few odds and ends of all kinds left over, so they were dumped out at Fort Dod^e." A^ain on board, the canoes were allowed to drift down the swift current, while the canoeists lay back on the cushions with sighs of calm enjoyment. For miles the river has sloping, grassy banks, strewn, here and there, with boulders. Amid stream, great rocks lay, partially submerged, around which the current rushed in many circling eddies. Some of them were eight or ten feet in diameter, the relics of the glacier period, when mountains of ice, thousands of feet thick, ground mountains of rock into boulders as they moved on their way south at the rate of four or five inches a day during the millions of years the earth was being prepared as a battle ground for wealth and preferment for ever greedy man. Everywhere, from the beginning to the end of the journey, was displayed the wonderful power of water. Thousands of for- est trees were uprooted and seemed as straws when the flood was at its height, as they were undermined and laid in rows where the river made a sharp turn and rushed across to the next bend. Sometimes the flood became humorous and played fanciful tricks with drift wood and debris. At the top of an immense drift, at one of the bends, a small tree was lodged which drooped gracefully twenty feet above the water. Upon this tree was a kitchen chair, in its natural position, swaying to and fro in the breeze. It is estimated that to have placed that pile of drift wood in position and crowned its summit with a chair, so airily poised, would have cost a gang of men a week's work and more profanity than to have put up a twelve-jointed stove pipe in the presence of a suggestive wife ! A camp that night was made on an island. It was also strewn with debris. The nail kegs found there made a beautiful camp fire, but the cart wheel, horse collar and boy's wool hat could not be utilized. We slept the sleep of the tired that night, to the music of the water on ali sides and the never failing A RIVER IDYL. 163 whip-poor-will on either shore, enhanced, no doubt, by a thoroui^h bath from one of the pebbly shores. Mosquitos were ver\- numer- ous in the woods and on the river, but when the canoe tents were in position, closely buttoned down to the sides of the canoes and the netting hunfi across the doors, the mosquitos were not in it with us. There is not, to a huntj;r\- man. a more appetizinji; smell than that which comes from boilinji; coffee and fr\intj; bacon. When it is done crisp and brown, break your e^^s and cook them slowly, turn them, if \ou like them that way, and with brown bread and butter, \ou have a breakfast fit for a kin^. 1 am sure you are anxious to know how the coffee was settled. There was no settling to do. Small bags of cheese ck)th were provided by a thoughtful wife, and the water was put on cold, with the proper amount of coffee in the little sack, and that was all there was to it. When it came to a boil, it was set on another part of the fire to simmer gently until ever\thing else was ready to serve up. The washing of the frying pan has always been looked upon as an irksome task. In camp, it was a pleasure. So soon as the fr\ing is done, till the tr\ing pan with clean. dr\ sand and let it stand until the meal is finished. The sand has, by that time, absorbed all the grease and a vigorous rubbing with a dry rag and tine sand will make it shine like a mirror and remove every particle of unpleasant odor. Tin plates, knives, forks and spoons will \ield to the same kind ot treatment, except that the applica- tion need not be so vigorously applied. Canoes launched, loaded and we are on the wing again. Lehigh was touched long enough to get some supplies and chat with the many people who came to see the canoes and to ask about our starting point, destination, and whether we were '' doing it for tun." There was one question which was universally asked : '* What do such boats cost ? " Our invariable reply was, " one hundred dollars, fully rigged for sailing, paddling or cruising." 164 A RIVER IDYL. We were off again, leisurely paddling down, on the alert for a good camping place. As the skv v\as clear and no sign of a thunder storm in the air, a dense forest was chosen, near a deserted house. Supper eaten, tents were being pui over the canoes, preparatory to turning in as soon as darkness appeared, when a faint sound came from far down the river, coming nearer, and anon fading away in the distance. As the sound came nearer, it was discovered to be a small pack of fox hounds in full cry. Their owner, who came near us, explained that his hounds had struck the trail of a wolf, as it was supposed, but he had taken them from the trail, as the fur was worthless at this time of year. On account of the flood driving these animals to the high lands, he had caught seven in the last two months. While the sport may be considered somewhat questionable by many people, it would be hard to convince any one who has ever " followed the hounds " that it is not the most exhilarating music in the world. The only gun in camp was double shotted that night. Camp axes were placed in easy reach and the canoeists slept on their arms, so to speak. Passing the mouth of the Boone River, we asked a man who was herding cattle some questions in regard to the locality, which he answered very politely, after which he whipped up his mule and rode down the river bank at a rate of speed usually acquired by those " going for a doctor " in an urgent case. The cause of his rapid riding was made apparent at the next bend of the river, for he had marshaled his wife, children and mother, to the river bank to see us pass. The canoes were pulled up close to the shore for their inspection and every question answered in detail, and when we bade them a pleasant good day, they watched us until the bend of the river hid us from view. During the day, we passed a beautiful, rocky cliff of perhaps a mile in length, in the shelter of which, grouped in neighbor- hoods, were the nests of hundreds of cliff swallows. These nests are built of mud, of a peculiar kind of soil, which seems to A RIVER IDYL. 16S adhere to the overhantj;in^ rock in so soMd a way as to bear the burden ot its own weight, the mother and younjz; birds. The nests are built somewhat round, suggestive of a jug, the neck of which turns sHghtly down, the better to keep out the falHng rain. It would puzzle a boy or a girl. 1 think, to make so com- plete a house as these patient birds have made without hands and to group them so artisticalK' as thev were here placed. I paddled m\- canoe u ithin a tew feet ot their nests and the colo- nists, as they were approached, came out in great swarms, filling the air with their alarmed twitterings. It is likely this was the first time during nesting season they had been disturbed, as the river side of the cliffs was inaccessible except bv boat. We intended lying still in camp all da\ Sundaw but our sup- ply of ice became exhausted, and ue concluded to drop down, quietly, to Moingona for more. It had been a source of amuse- ment to ask of t'ishermen and others the distance to the next bridge, town or railroad, in order to hear their widely different answers. The most truthful answer, probablv, was given by a grave individual who was indulging in a Sunday fish on a shady bank. I asked, " C^an \(iu tell me how tar it is to Moingona ? " He cleared his throat as he tlu)ughtfull\' answered, " Damflno." We passed. Moingona was reached, but not a pound ot ice could be had, so we went into camp a >hort distance below to spend the day quietly. A storm ot wind and rain broke upon us at six o'clock, but being well protected b\ our tents we enjoyed the grateful change ot temperature. Soon alter, a beautiful rainbow made its appearance, and it such a phenomenon occurred only once in a hundred years and had been well advertised, it would have had an audience of the best and most scientific people of the old and new wt)rld. While tliere are man\- beautiful things in nature, there are occasional tragedies in the animal and reptile kingdoms that sel- dom fall under the observation. On an island, far up the river, 166 A RIVER IDYL. there hangs by the neck, in the narrow forks of a willow tree, eighteen feet above the present river surface, a large turtle. How did he get there ? The explanation is easy. While swimming down a swift current his head was caught in the forks of a willow, and, slipping down to the narrower part as he struggled for freedom, was held as by a vise. Turtles are very tenacious of life. Perhaps he lived for days, and, as the waters receded, he hung high and dry. It was only by chance, a yearling calf was discovered, entangled in some roots at a precipitous bank where it had fallen. Its pit- iable condition excited our sympathy, and after a little time it was disentangled and urged down the river where the bank was less precipitous and where, after several efforts, it got safely upon solid ground. On Monday morning, we rose with the lark, as High Bridge was to be reached at three o'clock. We were delayed until nine o'clock in starting. Mr. Weatherly, in trying to get some water for the coffee, trusted to some roots projecting over the river bank, but they proved to be rotten and he fell in twelve feet of water, very pluckily holding on to the coffee pot. I ran to his assist- ance, rescuing the coffee pot, while he, " grabbing a root," and dripping with coolness, scrambled out, laughing heartily. There was no change of clothing in camp, so there was only one thing for him to do — wring out the wet garments, hang them on a line in the sun, and array himself in a big blanket. In consid- eration of his moist condition, breakfast was served in the broiling hot sun. Off at last for an easy day's work of thirty-five miles. The river had become more common-place, and yet there were some beautiful forests, rocks and bluffs. The wildness began to wane after Moingona is passed and instead of rocky banks, mud is the general character of all landings. The bluffs of High Bridge were seen about three o'clock and half an hour later, our canoes were resting under the sugar maple A HIVEK IDYL. 167 trees of that picturesque spot. The .ground was strewn with bro- ken bottles, playing cards and fiitli of all kinds, and it needed not any description of the Sunday picnic to desiii;nate its charac- teristics the day previous to our arrival. it seems too bad that so beautiful a spot should be j^iven over to such a debauch and Sabbath desecration. Bein^^: hungry for news, not havinii; seen a Des Moines paper for some days, a search was made in the hope that some of the frai2;ments might be found to give a little home news. I succeeded in finding half a Register, well stained with what might have been iced tea, a fragment of beer-stained Leader, and an Iowa Capital complete, well frescoed with custard pie. With these a very pleasant hour was passed. A storm ot uind and rain caught ns here, and it was one of the most bli^>tul experiences ot the cruise to lie snugl\' in our co/.v little nests and hear the rain patter within a few feet of our faces. High Bridge is a prett\' spot. It is about as prettv as nature can make it. A new steel bridge is soon to take the place of the present one. which will much enhance its beaut\' and grand- eur. A hearty breakfast was eaten about ten o'clock and prepara- tions for the last da\'s run was made. The rain still continued at intervals after the start, but with the deck hatches aiid rubber blankets in place, it mattered but little. The famou-- Willow Spring, at Cor\don bridge, was a welcome sight ; for no thirst\' one ever drinks of the water there but remembers its sweetness and purit\' ever after. The water is free to every passer b\' and the spring was never known to fail. From Cor\don bridge, it is an eas\' journey to Des Moines. Soon the river became more familiar. Lawson saw mill, mouth of Beaver. McClelland's mill. Nourse's farm, and now soon the capitol dome, lighted up bv the setting sun of the longest day in the Near, tells of the cruise so nearly and happilv ended. And 168 A RIVER IDYL. now, rounding Thompson's bend, a portion of the city bursts on our sijj;ht in the rays of the departing god of day. Home and friends ! The canoes are placed in their accustomed brackets and we tread the noisy streets ten times more noisy by contrast with a week of quietness, yet with a happiness that even a knowledge of accumulated work piled up before us cannot take out of our hearts.