LIBRARY OF CONGRESS DDDD3t,T7E41i • ^' •lo^ o • » ' .0 A o. / -^..d^ In Oe (Soobc ®\bc Colony Da^es m mvin proDasco IRipgen r> Colonic Badges m aivln probasco Wtpgen ^,0VV1M(3^,''M;K 3 2.51' 3%^ ^bc fjnlcl?ert>ochcr press G. P. Putnam's sons IS94 Copyright, 1894 BY ALVIN PROBASCO NIPGEN Printed and Bound by Ubc •Rnicfecrbochcr press, IWew ^ov\i G. P. Putnam's Sons TO THE DESCENDANTS OF god's true noble-men THE daughters OF THE AMERICAN REVOLUTION AUTHOR'S NOTE. The author makes grateful acknowledgments to Vogue for permission to republish *' Reverie of the Moon"; to the Yale Literary Magazine^ Courajit, and Record, in which the remainder have appeared ; to the artists of the Yale Record, and to the pub- lisher of Yale Wit and Humor for the illustrations in these pages. A. P. N. Yale University. CONTENTS. Under the Old Regime Lent In Ye Goode Olde Colony Dayes In Braver Days . Reverie of the Moon 'T was Ever Thus In the Reign of Queen Fay Reverie of the Family Arms In the Twinkling of an Eye Ye Sturdye Dutch — In Old New sterdam As IN Ye Oldene Dayes Reverie of Mars Am- 9 II 13 15 17 22 24 26 36 38 40 42 mn^cv tbe (S)l^ " Dear Maid, with patch and puff, With waist so short, yet long enough To make man most forget, Pray dance with me, for by thy side I promise thee my feet with pride. As hghtly as my heart will glide — Wilt trip the Minuet ? " 9 "dnDer tbe ©ID IRccjimc " Kind Sir, thy grace of word has vied Thy grace of step ; yet must I chide, Thy flattery I regret ! But, since the dancing woman flies. My love for it I '11 not disguise ; But while I may, the time I *11 prize — We '11 trip the Minuet ! " Wooingly the music sighs. He looks into her wondrous eyes, 'T is but a glance, and yet ! — Within our old ancestral hall. Their pictures hang upon the wall. And when dark silence reigns o'er all, They trip the Minuet ! Xent. My Angela is most demure, A saint I think she could allure. Or any one. She does deny for forty days All innocent but joyous ways. In modest gown in church she prays, The little nun. II Xcnt. That is not all, the maid devout, Has gone too far, so I make out My censure wins ! She 's not alone denied herself, For forty days, the little elf, I get no kisses, such my pelf, Those little sins ! She says, " That during Lent they're wrong That forty days is not so long ; " The little Grundy ! Yet from her cheeks so taunting bland. To steal a kiss I have n't sand ; Perhaps she '11 let me hold her hand Upon Palm Sunday ! Hn Colony Dapes* " Dear Maid, with ' kirtle and kerchief ' white, Our country needs me, so ' t is right I go, and share her fate. Weep not ; to hearts both true and brave To fill a noble patriot's grave Is sweeter than to live a slave. One pledge, e'er 't is too late ! " 13 14 Hn ^c ©ooOe ®lDe Colony 2)a^es. " Brave Lad, think not I weep from fear To lose my all in life, were dear If 't would my Country free ! My hands shall also find their role : If prayer some dying soldier's soul Can guide unto the heavenly goal. May God grant Liberty ! " When war was o'er the twain were wed ; A quiet honest life they led, Devoid of pomp and fame ! — Let others vaunt their crests ; I wot Their Sires tho' crowned kings, were not More noble than my patriot And his colonial dame ! irn Bra\>er " Kind Sirs, I 've drunk to each man's toast, And glad 's my heart, that all can boast Of maids so dear and rare ! I love a lass, whose modest grace. Whose queenly form and lovely face Defy the limner's brush to trace ! Here 's to the maid most fair ! " 15 1fn JBraver 5)aB0. " Nay, nay, I shall not drink to her. Whoe'er she be ; because, brave Sir, Her beauty can't surpass. The charms of one I love ! I deem Thine may be fair, but Poets dream Of such as mine — a noble theme ! I 'd die, Sir, for my lass ! " At dawn to the appointed place. Each came, to prove his lady's grace Or die ; — such honor's duty ! Their weapons drawn ; a moment's wait ; They put them back — e'er 't was too late — Since both in their appeals to Fate, Swore by my Grand-dame's beauty ! IReverie of tbe /iDoom A little before the Revolution, during the sea- son when they call me the '' Harvest Moon," I was watching an old mammy tell her children of the good days to come. She was sitting before the door of her log cabin on the banks of the old Ohio, with her little pic- kaninnies all around her. They were listening to her tale with wide- open eyes and mouth. Their mas- 17 i8 IReveric of tbc /Hboon. ter, Marse Whitehill, was cruel, and when the old mammy told them that Con'l Tobin had promised to buy them '' as soon as his ship comes in," and that he would be a kind master, little Tom asked about that ship. " Oh, dat ship, chile, am laden wid sparklin' jewels, diamonds and pearls, an' wid gold and silber ! Ya-as, it will come floatin' up dis here Ohio, de Lawd knows when, but it's comin', for Con'l Tobin sed so." With that the group betook themselves into the cabin, all to dream of the ship to come, and of serving good Con'l Tobin. I rose a little higher then, and IReverie of tbe /Ilboon. 19 was just about to peep into the open door, when I saw little black Tom stealthily creep- ing along to the bank of the river. He looked up and down and then quickly ^^s e at ed '^^^^^ himself. He was watching for Con'l Tobin's ship to come in laden with jewels and precious metals, nor did he give me even so much as a passing glance, so intent was his watch. After a little I saw him joyfully jump up, then he kneeled down as if in prayer, his lips seeming to say : IRcvcrie ot tbe /iRoon. '' Good Lawd, 'deed I lubs you ! Der comes Con'l Tobln's ship all sparklin' wid diamonds and gold ! Good Lawd, let me get it in for him, den he will buy me from Marse Whitehill." Of course I knew he mistook my image in the Ohio for his ship, and in fact it did look, as it floated over the rippling waters, like a golden fairy boat. Higher and higher I rose, each minute bringing my reflection nearer and nearer the little black slave waiting on the banks to catch the treasure ship. At last the image was brought directly under him and he leaned over the high bank to grasp it. IRcverie ot tbe /llboon. 21 Further he reached — still further — his hand was almost touching- the water — almost grasping the golden ship. I pitied the poor little fel- low when I thought of his disap- pointment in finding that his ship was only an image. But suddenly I saw the bank beneath him giving way ! Once more the little slave grasped for the ship ! It was his final effort, and without a cry he sank forever beneath the waves of the Ohio ! He had found his new master. "G:\va5 lEver ITbus. In ancient days, my Maiden dear, From sage and scholar do we hear, Lived shrewd Penelope. She wove her web, in woman's loft, There tied the knots e'en silken soft. But when fair Luna shone, so oft Unloosed the knot did she. 22 'vTwas Bver ^bus. 23 Thus she delayed the two-score men, Till her true lover came again, And slew the suitors bold ! Nor grieved she when Ulysses bent His bow ; and then with ill intent Through all their hearts an arrow sent, As he had shot of old ! A web of charms thou 'st wov'n, dear Maid, And in it I have long delayed, Till now I am not free ! Unloose the knots, take out the dart, With which young Cupid shot my heart. Nay, nay, but say, " We ne'er shall part, I '11 love and live with thee." I ftiifriDefl[ iia Hn tbe IReign of A Fairy Queen sat all alone, Upon a violet, her throne, Her heart pined for a King ! She waved her wand ; a Fairy Knight Appeared ; a Poet, and a Sprite, Each thinking that his own true might The Kingly Crown would bring ! 24 irn tbe IReiGu ot (Slueen 3fas. 25 First Warrior with Sir Poet tried ; His wondrous deeds of arms outvied, The fleetness of a glance ! A humming-bird of its own will Gave Poet a plume, his rhymes did thrill The wee Queen's heart, she cried, " The Quill Is mightier than the Lance ! " Then Poet challenged Sir Sprite ; His songs of praise filled with delight. The queenly fairy's breast ! The Sprite a single sparkling dart Shot from his bow ; it pierced her heart "Sir Warrior, Poet, speed, depart. For Love is mightiest y IRevcrie ot tbe Ifainili^ Hrms. You \v ou 1 d hardly imagine, that an old worn- out looking coat- of-mail like myself could enjoy so quiet a life as I have had for the past few years in this Beacon Street mansion. Of course, my shield gets heavy sometimes, and I think that I can't stand it any longer, but when I 'm dusted by the daintiest little house-maid, I think I am a young gallant of the modern day. 26 TReverie ot tbe S'amil^ Brms. 27 Still, I often do get tired of hear- ing Mr. N. E. W. Ryche and his family tell how '' that coat-of-mall was worn by their great, great grand- father, who came over in the May- flower, and was an intimate friend of Miles Standish." I know as well as Ryche that I am the production of modern art and artificiality. Why, I remember the day well — it was only five years ago — that, after the armorer had completed me, a young student from Harvard, a needy youth named Claudius Cicero Grindhard, said, '' That 's the best imitation of an old coat-of-mail you've made yet," and taking out his notebook he continued, '' This 28 IReperie ot tbc ffamil^ Brms. is the best-sounding motto I Ve made up, ' Jtistiis et Honor Pro- positi,' Put that on his shield." That 's how old I am ! ! ! As for old Mr. Ryche's pedigree, he found his wife in a dry-goods store out West somewhere. Well, they married and he made a fortune out of '* Swim- ming Soap," but, as they were not received in society there, they determined to come East, and '' get Jack (their son) In Harvard College, if money could do it." Now, their daughter Pearl Is in society, and that daughter, named after one of their soaps, was married last Wednesday evening, just five years to the day from my Chris- IRevcrie of tbe jFamils 2lrm6. 29 tening. The whole affair cost a fortune, and ''they say" that it was the most gorgeous wedding ever witnessed in Boston. That is what he intended it to be. It took place in this room to my right, and all of the '' Hub's smart set" were present. As I could n't be there I had to be content with hearing, as well as I could, the Bishop's voice and the soft music. Presently I recognized her father's coarse voice. "Well, Pearl, I 've founded a new Latin Pro- fessor's chair in Harvard, and your husband is to fill It. But now let 's all go out in the hall and have the bridal picture taken." 30 IReverie of tbe ffamil^ Brms. By this, I knew that the cere- mony was over, and thought I 'd now get a peep at dear Pearl's husband. But, of course, every one had to congratulate the young Professor and his bride, so that it seemed an age before they finally came out here for the picture. I was not in the best of humor anyway, for I did n't want her to leave the home, but when somebody turned down the lights just before the couple came out I could hardly contain myself ! At last I did see him, for just as the flash went off, he started and stared intently at my shield. Of course the light did not last long enough to give TReverte ot tbe ifamilg Brms. 31 me a good opportunity to scrutinize his features, but what I saw of his lean face, with sandy beard, sharp nose, and thick glasses, set me against him. The picture over, they rushed up stairs, and when Pearl reached the landing, with one of the most angelic smiles mortal ever saw, she tossed down the Bride's bouquet. Then what a scrimmage there was to get it ! A long-armed spinster got it, after having her gown torn in the wild grab ; but still she had the satisfaction of being envied by the younger girls, and consoled herself with the hope that perhaps she would be the next one wed. 32 IRcveric of tbc afamil^ Brms. At this instant a rustling was heard up stairs, and all forgot the bouquet and torn dresses— except the old maid— thinking only of the Professor and his fair wife. Then I had another chance to see him as they came quickly down the stairs. Again I dreaded to think of Pearl's living with that man all the rest of her life, and as for loving him, I did n't see how such a thing was possible ! He seemed to me one of those individuals who is ever looking to their own happiness, utterly ignoring and unappreciative of the sacrifices of others. She, on the other hand, was of a disposition as beautiful and as noble as the IRcvcrie of tbc jfamilg Brms. 33 fabled Ruth ! Of course, I realized that their married life would be peaceful, that he would be con- tented and happy, but as for his bride I could only see a sacrificed life. Then, for the first time, I thought that her name seemed to foretell her life — for it appeared to me in all its bitter reality, that this Pearl was surely being cast away. All the time they lingered in the hall — it seemed an age to me — that young Latin Professors eye was fixed on my shield, as if he was afraid of my striking him with my '' two edger." At first I thought he was eying me, because he was so proud to marry into a 34 tRevctic ot tbe jfamil^ Brms. family '* whose ancestors had fought in the Revolution," and who had such distinguished family arms and motto ; but then the thought came to me again that he was a coward, and I hated with all my heart to think of such a man gain- ing such a bride. But as they started to go to the waiting carriage, he made me believe that he was a young foeman worthy of my steel ! For amid a storm of rice and old shoes, he strode up to me, grasped my gauntlet, shook it violently, and whispered into my helmet, ''Well, old boy, don't you know me ? ' Justus ct Honoi' Propositi ? ' " IReverie of tbe dfamil^ Brms. 35 Then I shook his hand heartily and wished the Professor and Miss Pearl ** God-speed," for I knew she had a good husband in my old friend, Claudius Cicero Grindhard ! ^^^^' 1Fn tbe Uwinf^linc} ot an ]£^e/' " Fair Nanna, thou art doubly blest, By Heaven, with all its virtues best, And blessed in my heart ! Thine eyes are not like stars in skies. For Heaven itself is in thine eyes. That flood my heart with smiles or sighs, Such is thy magic art ! 36 irn tbe twinkling of an JEge." Thy form and features are most rare, Thy bearing saintly ; past compare ; A nun thou seem'st to me ! " "While thus I plead, a modest blush Quick veiled her cheeks, she cried, " Hush, hush ! Thou sin'st ; — thy love thou should'st have crushed ; I '11 ne'er again see thee ! " " Nay, Nanna, thou 'rt too severe, The Sermon on the Mount, I fear. Thou hast forgot, enraged ! ' Judge not ' ! Thou said'st I sinned. Do'st see ? ' Cast from thine eye the beam ' ! List thee ! Pray cast thine eyes' bright beam on me ! " She beamed, — we are engaged ! 13e SturD^ie Butcb Hn ©lt)e IRew HmsterDam. ^v3<> " Dear Maiden, since thou wilt not heed My soul's entreaty, I must speed To lands afar from this ! I cannot stay to see thee wed A stranger, though to title bred ; I go, but for love cold and dead Pray give one parting kiss ! " 38 I ^c SturD^c Butcb. 39 " Dear Lad, entreat me not, for Fate Has so decreed ! 'T is now too late To change, what might have been ! Nor call me false, — 't is too severe, I am but weak. Let this thought cheer Thy future life, ' Thou wert most dear.' May God forgive my sin ! " All night within the placid bay, The sturdy ship at anchor lay ; Soon would its sails be set. At dawn, as by some strange command, A lone man wandering on the strand, Sought passage to a foreign land ; — My Grand-dame's baronet ! Hs in 15e ©l^ene Ba^es* Dear Maid, could I but write such rhymes, As gallant knights of ancient times, \ Wrote ladies fine, *) I'd pen a verse of such rare art 'T would gain admittance to thy heart, And entering there would ne'er depart, Till it were mine ! 40 2l6 in ^c ©IDene 2>ai2cs. 41 By Venus, those old lovers swore, Her gracious aid did they implore. In many a line ; But lest her shrine should be defiled, Around her altars, that dear child, God Cupid, all the knights' hearts piled, To her divine ! Dear Maid, I 'd humbly worship thee, Would wait thy will, on bended knee, Before thy shrine ! And on thine altar I would place My heart ; but lest my hands efface Its purity, I '11 send his Grace, — Saint Valentine ! IReverte ot /iDars. One night, shortly after we had fin- ished our rehearsal of the '' Music of the Spheres," I heard an old bell ringing out wildly, '' War ! War ! War ! " As it happened, Venus and I had been complaining only a little earlier of the degenera- tion of modern mankind, because there were no such lovers as Dido, or warriors brave as Agamemnon ; 42 IReveric ot /IRars. 43 so when we heard those fierce notes of w^ar, we both admitted ourselves in the wrong, Venus by blushing as lovely as of yore when passionate Paris gave her the golden Apple of Discord. In that quaint old college town of New England, the chapel bell had sum- where the Rev. Napthali Daggett was telling them that their country needed true Christian men to fight for her liberty ; that they should 44 TReverie of /IRars. all go to the war ; and that they should be brave soldiers and fear naught but God's wrath. Then General Washington spoke briefly but earnestly : " Men of Yale, our army needs a battalion of men upon whom we can rely under any and all disasters. I have care- fully considered where such an one might best be organized, and have decided that It should be at that institution which gave to America her noblest hero — Nathan Hale ! I am here to organize the Yale Battalion, and I pray God that you may be as true and as brave as he who was recently among you, and whose only regret was that he IRevcrie of /iBars. 45 had but one life to lose for his Country." All the while Washington spoke, I had been watching a young fellow of noble bearing, whose very soul seemed to have been moved by the stirring words. Presently they read the roll-call, and when '' Henry Ingersoll Bishop " was called out, this lad, with all the fervor of his being, responded, " Here." Soon Washington cried, '' Four abreast, forward, march ! " and the little battalion slowly and silently wound along the beautiful Sylva- carmen Road. Again the old bell rang out, but, this time, its tones were of tenderness, for it was wish- 46 IReverie ot /Hbars. ing the young battalion its '' God- speed." And then, with the Rec- tor's godly words, and the patriotic advice of Washington fresh in their hearts, as they heard the old bell ring out, they shouted as with one voice their paean, '* For God, for Country, and for Yale." In the battle of White Plains the Yale Battalion was called upon, where they fought bravely and valiantly. Young Bishop was in the fore, fighting furiously ; so heedlessly that when Washington gave the word for retreat he was not aware of the absence of his friends. In an instant he was sur- rounded by the British, nevertheless. IReverie of /llbars. 47 undaunted, with his glittering sword he fought a Battle Royal ! Then I saw a Red Coat stealthily stealing up behind him. A sword flashed ! With a mighty effort, young Bishop rose to his full manly height with a smile, as one in- spired, he cried " Here," and fell. It was his final Roll Call ! I «^^ , o . « , ^<^ ni»)7 8 V 0' 'i-. '^yJr^