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GEORGE DEUEL POTTER 
 
Armageddon 
 
 A Slook of f nma 
 
 Allegory, Satire, Wit, 
 Humor, Pathos 
 
 BY 
 
 GEORGE DEUEL POTTER 
 
 FIRST EDITION. 
 
 1905 
 
 A. B. Farnham Printing & Stationery Co. 
 
 Minneapolis, Minn. 
 

 OCT. M I9U5 
 
 iSOPt s. 
 
 
 Copyrielited by 
 
 GEORGE DEUEL POTTER 
 
 1905 
 
A BRIEF SKETCH OF THE 
 AUTHOR'S LIFE 
 
 I was born December 28th, 1825, in the town of Hartford, 
 Licking County, Ohio. By my earliest recollections, we lived 
 on a farm in the backwoods and I remember seeing large 
 flocks of wild turkeys crossing our field. Deer frequently 
 came in sight of our cabin, also, as I well remember. One day 
 a large grey wolf came into the dooryard, and was cracking 
 some bones which had been cleared from the table. I, think- 
 ing it a neighbor's dog, struck it with a stick. It growled and 
 snapped at me. I was frightened and yelled. As my mother 
 lay sick in bed, the hired girl came to the door, and she being 
 frightened, screamed. Father, alarmed, came running from 
 his work in the clearing, but on his approach the wolf ran 
 away. I remember hearing him say, "It is a wonder that it 
 did not kill th^ child." 
 
 My parents were both of English extraction. My great 
 grandfather, William Potter, was born in England in 1730, 
 came to America when a young man and married a young 
 woman named Nancy Davis. They both died of the plague 
 in Baltimore in 1780. My grandfather, William Potter, was 
 born in Fredericksburg, Baltimore County, Md., August 28th, 
 1767, and died in Jackson County, la., June 24th, 1853. My 
 grandmother was born in Queenstown, Queen Anne County, 
 Md., April 28th, 1777, and died in Jones County, Iowa, Oc- 
 tober 24th, 1865. Her maiden name was Rachel Horner. My 
 father, Nathan Potter, was born October 29th, 1795, in Balti- 
 more, Md., and died in Jones County, Iowa, August 3d, 1879. 
 He was a soldier in the war of 1812; served two terms, first by 
 enlistment and then as a substitute. He was a pensioner in 
 his old age, at six dollars a month. My mother, whose maiden 
 name was Fanny Deuel, was born in Greenfield, Saratoga 
 County, New York State, October 5th, 1805, and died in Hart- 
 ford, Ohio, June 1st, 1832. Her ancestry extends back to the 
 landing of the Mayflower in 1620. My mother's death seemed 
 a great calamity to me and I mourned her loss for years. I 
 was in my seventh year when she died. 
 
 My parents were both godly, taking turns in leading family' 
 worship, the whole family kneeling in prayer and concluding 
 by rising to sing. I was the middle one of five children, two 
 sisters older, and a brother and a sister younger. I am the 
 only surviving member of that little group that gathered 
 around our frugal board in that one-room home. It seems but 
 yesterday when looking back to the times when we joined in 
 
our innocent childish sports and gleeful mirth. Blessed, 
 happy, golden days, untarnished by guile of riper years and 
 unalloyed by worldly cares; days never to return; and so my 
 course is on and upward. 
 
 Shall we meet beyond the river 
 Where the surges cease to roll, 
 Where in all the bright forever 
 Sorrow ne'er shall press the soul? 
 
 Faith answers, yes, and Hope responds, we surely shall. 
 
 I have five half brothers and three half sisters yet living 
 whom I love dearly. 
 
 After my mother's death I was taken to grandfather's, which 
 was my home for over three years. At that time my father 
 married and I was taken home again to live. My grand- 
 parents were kind to me, but firm in their discipline, making 
 no false promises nor threatenings either. Our parents had 
 taught us to be obedient, truthful and mannerly. And so now 
 it was easy for me to obey orders and I seldom incurred their 
 displeasure. They were pious and attended to family wor- 
 ship regularly. In their devotions they sang as well as 
 prayed. On the first evening when they sang I wept, and 
 when they asked why I cried I answered, "Because mamma is 
 dead and I can never hear her sing again." Grandfather said, 
 "She sings a new song now." I did not understand his mean- 
 ing at the time, and so afterward I went to the cemetery, 
 which was near by, expecting to hear her sing, but was disap- 
 pointed. Then they told me she was up in heaven where we 
 would go when we died, if we were good. I then said, "I 
 don't never want to die." I was then told that we must all 
 die; which made me feel sad. One day, while lying on the 
 lawn viewing slowly moving clouds, I fancied that I saw her 
 in the clouds in her blue dress, and went and told grand- 
 mother. She then said that my mamma was dressed in white 
 and lived in God's house, bade me be a good boy and I would 
 go to her some time. I then resolved to be good, which I 
 supposed consisted in obedience, good manners and truthful- 
 ness. 
 
 One day I said to a playmate, "I would not tell a lie for a 
 hundred dollars, would you?" She replied that she would for 
 that amount, saying that God could forgive her for one lie. 
 That was a novel thought to me and I remember pondering 
 and querying over it. I was not at the time a conscious sin- 
 ner and did not know the penalty of sin nor the condition of 
 pardon at the time. Grandfather's house was a stopping place 
 for the preacher, where the weary itinerent always found a 
 hearty welcome. When I was in my eighth year I was sent to 
 open the gate for the departing itinerant, who was on horse- 
 back, when he put his hand on my head, uttering some words 
 of prayer for me. I never shall forget the indescribable feel- 
 ings of my heart, which was filled with emotions of tenderness 
 and love. And my heart clave unto him as David's did to that 
 of Jonathan. No other's hands were ever laid on my head, 
 
although I have been doing evangelistic work for over fifty 
 years as a layman. 
 
 In my boyhood days I was powerfully wrought upon by the 
 Holy Spirit under the preaching of God's word. In social 
 meetings I was often so blessed with feelings of love that I 
 could hardly keep still and often wished the class-leader 
 would call on me to testify, which I now think would have 
 proved a great blessing to my soul. And here let me say that 
 I never doubted the reality of religion or the truth and inspi- 
 ration of the Bible in my life, not even before my conversion 
 and regeneration by the Holy Ghost, and I attribute my early 
 convictions to the consistency and uprightness of life in our 
 home. 
 
 But coming West at the age of sixteen, with an uncle who 
 was not a professor of religion at that time, and there being 
 no religious meetings for a time, I fell in with worldly asso- 
 ciates, which was cause for remorse and repentance. But after 
 a time the itinerant came and held meetings, which I attended 
 and sought God in the pardon of my sins and was restored to 
 God's favor. I there renounced my worldliness and Christ 
 came into my heart by His Holy Spirit and became exceeding- 
 ly precious to my soul, which filled me with love to every- 
 body and gave me a longing desire for the salvation of 
 precious blood-bought souls. I saw the way of salvation 
 through the atoning merit of Christ. I longed to tell it to all 
 mankind but was hindered by the lack of a collegiate course 
 of training, which I deeply felt the need of and I thirsted 
 greatly for it. But not seeing my way clear in that direction, 
 I betook me to the reading of God's word, and was soon con- 
 vinced of the need of a deeper work of grace. And nothing 
 can exceed the longing of my soul I had for entire heart 
 purity. Some seemingly good people opposed me. But the 
 truth had found a place in my heart. And I desired it more 
 than life itself. When God gave me this great blessing of 
 perfect love I found it v/as what I needed to give me potency 
 in the work (the enduement of pov^er from on high). But let 
 me here say the idols of my heart were willingly torn away 
 (habits and everything) and that forever. I now found my 
 usefulness greatly increased and was enabled to go on with 
 greater freedom and power and it became more than my meat 
 to go from place to place to declare the glad tidings of salva- 
 tion through Christ Jesus. 
 
 The Lord has gone with me and has blest and crowned my 
 labors with success where others had failed, even though they 
 possessed advantages which were denied me. 
 
 Besides doing evangelistic work I have preached as a supply 
 quite frequently, and always with more or less success, be- 
 cause I leaned hard on God. I am or ought to be pretty well 
 suited to pioneer life. I was born in the backwoods of Ohio 
 in 1825. I came to the then new territory of Iowa in 1842, 
 where I lived with an uncle in those wilds until I was twenty- 
 one. I then married and settled down until 1854. We then 
 moved to the frontier in Blackhawk county, where we lived 
 
one year and where we had sickness. There death entered our 
 home and took our darling Alvina, a bright little girl, aged 
 two and a half years. This was a hard stroke. We then, in 
 1855, came to the territory of Minnesota, settling on the out- 
 skirts of civilization, in Rice county. Here we found a niche 
 into which I seemed to fit. Traveled and preached three times 
 each Sunday, with appointments frorn six to fifteen miles 
 apart. I also attended many camp meetings where I was blest 
 and was made a blessing to many; for God sent a revival with 
 me everywhere I went. Here I labored till after the Indian 
 outbreak, at which time we moved to Waseca county, where I 
 served as a supply under Elder A. G. Perkins. We removed 
 from there in 1864 to McLeod county. Here a vast field 
 opened up to me and I labored exceedingly until 1871, at 
 which time I moved to Renville county. Here, as in all other 
 places we found a large field for usefulness. In a short time 
 six preaching places were established and, with the assistance 
 of Brother Alva Kennedy, of blessed memory, as many classes 
 were organized in as many communities. As the country was 
 settled our field of labor expanded, so that I had to preach 
 from three to four times on Sunday, and often on week day 
 evenings also, in order to feed the little flocks gathered into 
 the Saviour's fold. Let no one think that this work was irk- 
 some to me. Far from being a task or burden, it was my de- 
 light and glory even more than my meat and drink, to cheer 
 and encourage the disciples and call sinners to repentance. I 
 am now in my eightieth year and infirmities are weighing up- 
 on me. But still life seems too short for the work which I love 
 and to be laid on the shelf is the hardest thing I have known. 
 
 Taking a retrospect of the past and looking over the various 
 fields of labor in Minnesota, it seems that I have been a travel- 
 ing local preacher in the counties of Rice, Steele, Waseca, 
 McLeod, LeSueur, Meeker, Renville, Todd, Pope, Grant, Wil- 
 kin, Traverse and Itasca beside transiently in Iowa, Nebraska 
 and Oklahoma. 
 
 Many have been the vicissitudes of my life amidst changing 
 circumstances ; losses of property and bereavements have been 
 frequent. With intervals between their deaths, four lovely 
 daughters have died, besides a loving wife, who has gone 
 through suffering to her reward. Some unavoidable difficul- 
 ties and trials I have had. I have been misunderstood, mis- 
 represented and misused,— at times by those I loved. These 
 things grieved me. I will not dwell on them for God has so 
 overruled them for His glory and my good that I now have no 
 reason to complain. What seemed calamities at the time, have 
 proved to be blessings in disguise. Though I must soon lay 
 my armor down, I rejoice in the fact that so many young men 
 with superior qualifications are entering the field to carry on 
 the blessed work of spreading scriptural holiness over this and 
 all lands. When I read Daniel xii, 3, I feel like shouting 
 from the tops of the mountains. 
 
 We suffered many privations in our frontier life. Our 
 homes were rude structures made of logs and covered with 
 
boards which I had split out with a frowe. Our floors were 
 puncheons which I hewed out with a broad-axe. Our furni- 
 ture, with the exception of the few things that we could take 
 with us over exceedingly bad roads, were home-made bed- 
 steads, cupboards, etc. A part of our seats were benches and 
 stools. Being far from market and stores, we had to dress 
 plainly and to wear home-made clothing, and were glad to get 
 that. 
 
 Though we always had enough to eat through the kind 
 providence of God, we often lacked variety and had to resort 
 to game and fish for meat. Several times we were brought 
 into circumstances where it looked as though we should come 
 to want, when some unforseen providence would bring us out 
 into a broad place. Many times we have been agreeably sur- 
 prised with the turn of things, while I went steadily on with 
 the work in hand amid adversity as well as when prosperity 
 attended us. On a time my Sunday pants gave out and there 
 was seemingly no way of replenishment, when suddenly the 
 thought occurred to me that I knew how to tan hides. I then 
 took two large buck skins, dressed them to a velvety softness 
 and, assisted by my wife, made myself a pair of buckskin pants 
 which fully met the emergency and were well adapted to the 
 frontier of those pioneer times. Here let me say that I am 
 compelled for the sake of brevity to pass over many interest- 
 ing incidents of my life, but will mention a few of the many, 
 some occurring in each place where we have lived, which, for 
 many years, was on the frontier in Minnesota. 
 
 Some trying circumstances we had, in which our lives were 
 endangered. Wintry blzzards, indescribably fierce and wild, 
 in which many perished. Tornadoes and wind storms, in which 
 our house was unroofed twice; the first time in Rice county, 
 the whole top was blown from our little dwellings, and the 
 wind continued to blow for some time, the rain pouring down 
 in sheets as I never saw it before or since. Several times the 
 wind lifted the structure, and then let it slowly down again. 
 
 While the mother, with her children crept beneath the bed 
 
 and stayed, 
 I held my arms against the walls with all my might and 
 
 prayed. 
 And since our lives were spared, from falling too the house is 
 
 stayed 
 I think my hanging on just then, and my fervent praying, paid. 
 Do you think not? I ask, why not? 
 
 While living in Rice county a blight struck our wheat so 
 that we were brought into straightened circumstances. Since 
 then our crops have been twice destroyed by grasshoppers; 
 four times by hail,— three times in part, the fourth time entire. 
 Twice we suffered heavily by fire. Among the critical circum- 
 stances and accidents I will tell a few: On a time, as I was 
 driving in the night, my sled slewed off from a mill-dam, and 
 struck my head against a post, knocking me out of my wits 
 for a time. In 1872 I had my right hand crushed in the gear- 
 ing of a machine so that it had to be amputated. My wife also 
 
suffered some accidents which were very severe. Once she 
 was thrown from a buggy, fracturing her right shoulder. This 
 was the cause of much suffering. At another time the team 
 ran away, upsetting the vehicle and causing internal injuries, 
 which caused a tumorous growth. This shortened her life. 
 
 Many years ago two of our small children were playing 
 near a watering hole when the little one fell in. The other 
 one gave the alarm; I ran and by an almost herculean effort, 
 rescued her. 
 
 While living in McLeod county, having business on the op- 
 posite side of Cedar lake, in order to save a long walk, I pro- 
 cured a skiff and started to cross, the weather being fine. But 
 when out in the middle of the lake a storm of wind came 
 down, which put me in jeopardy, and having no ballast, the 
 wind caught the front end of the boat, tossing it in the air. As 
 I attempted to go to the front to hold it down, the wind lifted 
 the hind end in the air also. 
 
 Thus, while the wind its antics played, 
 
 I paddled with my might and prayed. 
 
 (Self preservation, the first law) 
 
 My helplessness and danger both I saw, 
 
 And keenly felt the need of aid. 
 
 The storm soon passed; 'tis my belief 
 
 Prayer drove it off and brought relief. 
 
 Let toilers on the sea of life, 
 
 'Mid adverse winds and wave of strife. 
 
 When stormy clouds obscure the shore, 
 
 Look up and ply faith's trusted oar. 
 
 No storm can drive us to despair 
 
 While faith doth ply the car of prayer. 
 
INTRODUCTION BY THE AUTHOR 
 
 In writing these poems I had not the remotest thought of 
 making a book. The work would have been in part, at least, 
 along different lines from these. My life, however, has been 
 too busy for such a thought. Neither had I any thought of 
 being a poet. Although I have frequently written composi- 
 tions in rhyme, I never did so with intention of publishing 
 them. But since these pieces have accumulated to the extent 
 of a volume, my friends have persuaded me to publish it, and 
 I now have decided to do so. Providence permitting. These 
 poems have been suggested by various circumstances, and 
 have been written at intervals, — sometimes of considerable ex- 
 tent, while at other times they have come in clusters, just as the 
 spell took me. My principal work as a preacher has been as 
 an evangelist. Finding the saloon the greatest hindrance to 
 evangelism, I have leveled my heaviest guns at its stronghold 
 and hiding place, the license system, in story, dialogue, and 
 satirical allegory. Under the similitude of dreams 
 I have sought the licensed den to hit, 
 And those who vote to license it. 
 Those dreams make peoples' actions speak 
 The things which they have not the cheek 
 With their own tongue and voice to tell; 
 From housetop makes them loud proclaim 
 What guilty lips have hid with shame; 
 Truths satan blushed to hear in hell. 
 The book speaks for itself on the saloon question, with no 
 uncertain sound. In conversation with a senator, he remarked 
 that there were other issues. To this my answer was and is, — 
 that there are no legitimate issues but what can be attended 
 to by sober men without one licensed saloon. 
 
 As this book is a collection of the greater portion of the 
 poems which I have written on numerous topics, during the 
 last twenty years of my life, its contents, I trust, will be helpful 
 to sincere minds. It will be amusing as well as instructive, es- 
 pecially to the unsophisticated and fair-minded reader. While 
 the writer makes no pretensions to learning, and might be 
 easily criticised; yet all classes may find its sentiments en- 
 nobling; its morals pure; its advice safe; its teaching both ra- 
 tional and scriptural. And although not a learned work, yet 
 educated people of fair minds will avoid severe criticism. 
 Should anything appear childish the reader will remember 
 that not a line of this book did I write previous to my sixtieth 
 year. The reader will find that I have noticed to a limited 
 extent, the changes in church customs, and that I have briefly 
 chronicled passing events in the history of the world, — al- 
 though I have not alluded to the war in the far East, which 
 most people are familiar with. But in most part I have been 
 getting together and arranging what I had written beforehand 
 rather than adding new matter which would be cumbersome. 
 Trusting that God's blessing may attend it for good, it is dedi- 
 cated to the cause of temperance, justice and civic righteous- 
 ness. G. D. POTTER. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 A Brief Sketch of the Author's Life 3 
 
 Introduction 9 
 
 My Mode of Preaching . 11 
 
 Send the Stuff 14 
 
 A New Kind of Grain 16 
 
 The Snuff Vender 19 
 
 The Waif on the Street 29 
 
 The Ship of State 34 
 
 Tim Maloney — A Dialogue 63 
 
 Republican and Democrat 71 
 
 The Red Dragon 89 
 
 The Dens of Death 107 
 
 Two Yalier Dogs 135 
 
 Shamma Shirk 138 
 
 Old Joe 165 
 
 PART SECOND 
 
 True and False Wisdom 174 
 
 Twelve Little Sermons 175 
 
 The Prayerless Deacon 179 
 
 The Grumbling Pastor 182 
 
 A Boy' s Surprise 193 
 
 Satan's Devices (in three parts) 196 
 
 Blue Monday 208 
 
 Christian Science a Delusion 210 
 
 Robbing Peter to Pay Paul 211 
 
 The Disconsolate Mother 215 
 
 In Memory of Sister Williams 219 
 
 The Lord' s Banner 221 
 
 Letter of Condolence 224 
 
 When Jesus "Was Preaching 225 
 
 Evangelical Versus Legal '. 227 
 
 The Old Man's Letter 235 
 
 When the Circuit Rider Came 263 
 
 How We Are Getting Along 265 
 
 Experience and Exhortation 270 
 
 Easter Sunday 276 
 
 What the Difference Is 278 
 
 Thoughts on Calvinism 283 
 
 PART THIRD 
 
 An Admirable Love Letter 293 
 
 A Model Love Letter 298 
 
 Senator Pettus' Anecdote 299 
 
 Job's Turkey 304 
 
 Dame Rumor 307 
 
 A Rhyme In Pencil 310 
 
 Sunny Day and Blooming May 312 
 
 Pioneer Days 313 
 
 The Coming Woman 317 
 
 Mi Ritin' Mashene 319 
 
 A Petrified Woman 321 
 
 N, B. Barlow, Printing Co 323 
 
 Hutchinson Sunday Baseball 323 
 
 Strictures on the Ram's Horn 325 
 
 The Muskeeter 330 
 
 Advice to Farmers ; 332 
 
 A Good Time Is Coming 335 
 
MY MODE OF PREACHING, 
 
 With comparisons, is illustrated in the follow- 
 ing lines. 
 
 The man-made preacher rattles off 
 
 Some stuff which he has wrote; 
 I take God's word, the Spirit's sword, 
 
 And preach without a note. 
 
 His subject to embellish, he 
 
 Quotes Bryant, Scott and Pope; 
 I warn poor souls from wrath to flee, 
 
 And preach without a note. 
 
 His flowery sermonette he'll preach, 
 
 Puts on a handsome coat. 
 I dress in plainest garb, you see, 
 
 And preach without a note. 
 
 In stylish suit he must appear, 
 
 On this he seems to dote; 
 His manuscript knows how to read. 
 
 Keeps bowing to his note. 
 
 It is the devil's trick, indeed, 
 
 In trickery Satan dotes; 
 First gets the man to doubt God's aid. 
 
 Then fixes him some notes. 
 
 I preached off-hand, with Spirit's aid, 
 
 My sermons never wrote; 
 I gave the people Scripture proof, 
 
 And preached without a note. 
 
 I took the Spirit's sword, "revealed," 
 Which apostles, prophets wrote; 
 
 That spirit, too, the Book unsealed. 
 So I preached without a note. 
 
 A bishop's sermon he will read, 
 
 Commits som.e parts by rote; 
 His manuscript spreads on the desk, 
 
 Then apes it off by note. 
 
 He dares not touch the sins of men. 
 
 But treats them as a joke; 
 He leaves the Saviour out of sight, 
 
 His eyes keep on his notes. 
 
 I point the narrow pathway out. 
 
 As plainly as I can. 
 And say to those who live in sin, 
 
 "Thou surely art the man." 
 
 U 
 
He reads the novels— poets, too, 
 So he can Shakespeare quote; 
 
 He has the praise of men in view, 
 And reads it note by note. 
 
 I often read my Bible through. 
 
 So I its truths could quote; 
 I had the good of souls in view, 
 
 And preached without a note. 
 
 A lengthy pastorate he likes. 
 
 To get himself a name; 
 A better charge, or salary raised, 
 
 Now seem to be his aim. 
 
 I saw the beam in my own eye. 
 
 Saw not my brother's mote; 
 In love to souls so soon to die, 
 
 I preach without a note. 
 
 I preached without my mittens on, 
 
 And oft threw off my coat; 
 I often wept o'er sinners, too, 
 
 And preached without a note. 
 
 He is a smart, a witty man. 
 
 On witticisms dotes; 
 But when he undertakes to preach 
 
 He fumbles for his notes. 
 
 I'd tell how Jesus prayed for those 
 
 Who gambled for his coat. 
 And how He intercedes above, 
 
 And preach without a note. 
 
 Himself he seems to have in view. 
 
 His interests to promote; 
 Travels abroad, speaks high-flown words. 
 
 To make himself of note. 
 
 I tell poor sinners Jesus' blood 
 Will cleanse each sinful spot. 
 
 And give them joy and peace with God, 
 Thus preach without a note. 
 
 He borrows L. D.'s manuscript. 
 
 And from it often quotes; 
 He jabbers like a parrot then. 
 
 And sticks close to his notes. 
 
 I see what danger souls are in. 
 
 On life's sea in leaky boat; 
 So soon to sink to eternity. 
 
 So I preach without a note. 
 
 12 
 
Whene'er he leaves his notes at home, 
 
 The folks soon see the joke, 
 When he gets up and hems and haws; 
 
 Can't preach without a note. 
 
 Our hero goes to Europe, too. 
 
 His kodak with him totes; 
 When he comes back to talk with us, 
 
 He has great piles of notes. 
 
 I go to God in humble prayer, 
 
 And all my burdens tote ; 
 Then come inflamed by holy fire, 
 
 And preach without a note. 
 
 He is a temperance preacher, too, 
 
 Except 'tis when he votes; 
 He stands for whisky party then. 
 
 Despite his temperance notes. 
 
 Though he has been to college, too. 
 
 Much on that fact he dotes; 
 But he can't preach a sermon through, 
 
 'Thout manuscript or notes. 
 
 I'd read about the Saviour's sheep, 
 Then describe a sheep and goat; 
 
 I'd talk about the judgment day, 
 And preach without a note. 
 
 Yes, I'd preach about the judgment day. 
 Where must stand the sheep and goat; 
 
 Those bid to come, these to depart. 
 And I'd preach without a note. 
 
 Yea, I must stand and give account; 
 
 'Tis in the^ Bible wrote, 
 That all must stand before the King, 
 
 So I preach without a note. 
 
 And if I knew the judgment day 
 
 Was ever so remote. 
 Since life and time fly swift away, 
 
 I'd preach without a note. 
 
 So many souls asleep in sin, 
 
 While time is rushing by. 
 Awake, behold, the Bridegroom comes! 
 
 In love to them I'd cry. 
 
 Yea, I'd proclaim His power to save. 
 
 Who brings salvation nigh; 
 I would exalt His holy name. 
 
 And leave my own to die. 
 
 13 
 
SEND THE STUFF. 
 
 (This poem is in part an answer to a sen- 
 tence in a letter from Secretary Calderwood in 
 which he wrote "Send the stuff," meaning my 
 manuscript.) 
 
 I had a hearty laugh, you bet, 
 When your kind letter I did get; 
 Yes, it was funny, sure enough. 
 What you wrote me, "Send the stuff!" 
 I had a feast of fun to quaff. 
 And long and loudly I did laugh. 
 
 I might have took it for a bluff, 
 But knew you meant it kind enough; 
 Some might have thought it rather rough, 
 When you wrote me, "Send the stuff!" 
 I kept my temper, took it good; 
 I said, "'tis only Calderwood." 
 
 And he belongs to prohib. cranks. 
 He's turning things, I owe him thanks; 
 My rhymes may all seem tame to you. 
 But still they have a meaning true. 
 'Tis prohibition, plain enough. 
 Keep on writing, "Send the stuff!" 
 
 There's many homes in sad condition 
 Might be relieved by prohibition. 
 Then let us send it far and wide. 
 Let's spread it over land and tide; 
 Saloons are serving people rough. 
 Be quick to rescue, "Send the stuff!" 
 
 Many like beasts are in the mire, 
 Are sinking to perdition fire; 
 We must prohibit, if we'd save 
 Such people from a drunkard's grave. 
 Saloons are making many a tough. 
 We must prohibit, "Send the stuff!" 
 
 This prohibition, strong and pure, 
 
 For dramshops is the only cure. 
 
 Folks are needing legal suasion, 
 
 Send it strong, like Carrie Nation; 
 
 On saloons she's mighty rough, 
 
 To stop those hell holes, "Send the stuff!" 
 
 Yes, send it strong and hot and pure. 
 For dramshops 'tis the only cure; 
 'Twill open people's ears and eyes 
 To see and hear poor orphans' cries. 
 Saloons have served them fearful rough. 
 To stop their wailings, "Send the stuff!" 
 
 14 
 
This book will make your duty plain, 
 'Twill make you feel your brother's pain; 
 Unless you close your eyelids tight, 
 'Twill surely make you vote aright; 
 And, if you do, 'tis plain enough, 
 Your vote will help us "Send the stuff!" 
 
 Send prohibition right along — 
 Send my lecture, book and song — 
 Send some means the homes to bless 
 Of those in squalor and distress. 
 They surely need it bad enough, 
 'Ere they perish, "Send the stuff!" 
 
 The bird that soars aloft and sings. 
 
 Most surely uses both its wings; 
 
 We sent our prayers, 'thout votes, and found 
 
 Our birdy fluttering on the ground. 
 
 Faith without works is dead enough. 
 
 We must use both to gain "the stuff!" 
 
 We sent our prayers, without our votes. 
 
 And found ourselves in leaky boats. 
 
 We used one oar alone and found 
 
 Ourselves a-circling 'round and 'round. 
 
 But now we use our sense with care. 
 
 We send our ballots with our prayer. 
 
 It now comes to us, plain enough, 
 
 God hears our prayers, He'll "send the stuff!" 
 
 Though while we wandered 'round and 'round, 
 
 Our ship had almost run aground. 
 
 We used both oars and now report 
 
 Our ship is coming into port. 
 
 Our voyage, though, is rather rough. 
 
 But, sirs, she's laden with the stuff! 
 
 Our stormy voyage is almost o'er. 
 From her topmast we sight the shore. 
 Our prayers are heard in Heaven's court. 
 Two oars will bring her into port; 
 Ana then we'll shout, "Enough! Enough! 
 We have a shipload of 'the stuff!' " 
 
 Her topsails soon will heave in sight. 
 Landsmen behold her colors bright! 
 Her motto, looming up so grand. 
 For God, and home, and native land. 
 We'll land her soon and scatter wide 
 The "stuff" she's bringing o'er the tide. 
 Our Carrie, on the joints is rough. 
 But prohibition brings the stuff. 
 
 15 
 
Now, when I'd written this I fell 
 
 Into a trance for quite a spell; 
 
 I prayed and prayed, but only found 
 
 My prayers from brazen skies rebound; 
 
 Like one-winged birds, went hopping round. 
 
 An angel spoke out plain enough, 
 
 "Prayers 'thout votes won't bring the stuff." 
 
 It seemed I saw through brazen skies 
 
 The Lord, with hands on ears and eyes. 
 
 It seemed we'd sent up prayers for years. 
 
 And sent them, too, with groans and tears; 
 
 But naught received but doubts and fears, 
 
 It seemed our prayers were served quite rough, 
 
 For we had never got the stuff. 
 
 We then sent ballots with our prayers; 
 God took His hands from off His ears. 
 He shouted back through open door, 
 "You should have prayed that way before!" 
 He thundered then, "Enough! enough! 
 Your prayers are heard, we've shipped the 
 stuff!" 
 
 I roused me up from revery then, 
 And went and got my ink and pen. 
 In headlines large I wrote for fun, 
 So folks can read it as they run: 
 "Prayers without votes are not enough, 
 You must send both to get the stuff." 
 
 A NEW KIND OF GRAIN. 
 
 My friends, come listen to me while I tell 
 
 You about a new kind of grain. 
 'Tis not a cheat, my friends, 'tis not to sell, 
 
 'Twas discovered in the state of Maine, 
 In any climate on the earth 'twill grow, 
 
 'Twill grow on any kind of soil. 
 My friends, if you this grain will only sow, 
 
 'Twill well repay you for your toil. 
 Though your estate be small or great, 
 
 Plow up the weeds and sow the seeds 
 Of legal Prohibition. 
 
 By ballots sow and it will grow 
 
 In sunny climes or banks of snow; 
 Your ballots are the sole condition. 
 
 'Twill never wilt 'neath scorching summer sun, 
 
 Nor winter kill in climates cold. 
 'Twill grow on any kind of land 'tis sown, 
 
 16 
 
On newest land or land that's old. 
 'Tis not a nostrum, friends, to you I bring, 
 
 For you shall reap a hundred fold. 
 This grain of all the other grains is king 
 
 And worth its weight in solid gold. 
 By ballots sow and it will grow. 
 
 Plow up the weeds and sow the seeds 
 Of legal Prohibition. 
 
 In drouth or rain, will grow this grain, 
 
 Nor weary you, nor give you pain; 
 Your ballots are the sole condition. 
 
 My friends, go forth in all the world and sow; 
 
 Sow on the mount and in the vale, 
 'Twill more than soothe the weeping widow's woe. 
 
 And hush to rest the orphan's wail. 
 Broadcast it over all the land, my friends, 
 
 But first begin to sow at home. 
 With bursting bins 'twill crown you in the end 
 
 Then ship some o'er the sea to Rome. 
 This wondrous grain brings ease for pain, 
 
 Gives joy for sorrow, makes bright the morrow, 
 'Twill furnish bread and home and bed; 
 
 Save thousands from perdition. 
 Those who swagger at the bar and stagger, 
 Use the revolver and the dagger. 
 
 Your ballots are the sole condition. 
 
 My friends, in all the states this grain they need; 
 
 'Twill not impoverish you at all. 
 If you will send to every state some seed; 
 
 'Tis misery, friends, which makes the call; 
 'Tis plenty in Kansas, and Hawkeye chickens 
 
 On Prohibition grain do live. 
 Hungry Wolverines howl like the dickens 
 
 And Suckers are gaping to receive. 
 The want is great in many a state. 
 
 The hungry gopher chitters for Prohibition fritters. 
 Strew it hither and yonder — 
 
 Buckeyes seek, while Badgers squeak, 
 And squawks the Michigander. 
 
 Plow up the weeds and sow the seeds 
 Of legal Prohibition. 
 
 'Tis good to yield, sow all the field; 
 
 Old party leaders' hearts are steeled; 
 Your ballots are the sole condition. 
 
 Although our statesmen are not fools, 
 
 Yet they to demon drink have sold; 
 To pay their taxes and support the schools, 
 
 Have sold us for a bag of gold. 
 They take a bribe and call it revenue, 
 
 While in wealth and ease they revel. 
 
 17 
 (2) 
 
They sell us, sell our sons and daughters, too, 
 
 To destruction and the devil. 
 Those weeds of evil sown by the devil — 
 
 Saloons now bristle like Canada thistles, 
 So thick they stand, they mar the land. 
 
 Plow up these weeds and sow the seeds 
 Of legal Prohibition. 
 
 Come now, at last your ballots cast; 
 
 Your votes will bind the demon fast 
 For ballots are the sole condition. 
 
 To get this wondrous grain we fondly thought 
 
 We need only to petition. 
 But nothing of our statesmen have we got 
 
 In favor of Prohibition. 
 We asked them and we humbly prayed 
 
 To let us by our ballots say. 
 The sovereign people by petition said. 
 
 Let us vote this slaughter-pen away. 
 But statesmen wise did close their eyes; 
 
 With lofty airs they snubbed our prayers — 
 Played many pranks and called us cranks; 
 
 So now we change position. 
 Turn prayers to deeds, we plow these weeds. 
 By ballots now we sow these seeds, 
 
 For ballots are the sole condition. 
 
 It gives old party leaders much trouble; 
 
 Distillers and brewers hate this grain; 
 Legislatures make the license fees double; 
 
 These all combine for the sake of gain. 
 You never can prohibit, they declare. 
 
 But will not let us try our hand 
 At voting to remove this den and snare — 
 
 This demon drink curse from our land. 
 While those who keep saloons like crazy loons, 
 
 'Gainst Prohibition scream, and party press doth 
 teem 
 With lies against our cause and favor license laws; 
 
 Against us takes a firm position. 
 Her columns full of lies put sand in people's eyes. 
 But by our ballots we'll arise — 
 
 For ballots are the sole condition. 
 
 In all our northern states, from sea to sea. 
 
 The Christian people want this grain. 
 But party leaders are afraid, you see, 
 
 'Twill take from them their license gain. 
 Fattened on revenue and license fees, 
 
 They shape the laws the votes to gain — 
 Of whiskyites and such a set as these. 
 
 But folks demand this wondrous grain; 
 Our northern land makes this demand. 
 
 18 
 
Minnesota and Dakota 
 Against the leak of dramshops speak; 
 
 They take position and make petition 
 For legal Prohibition. 
 
 In each north state is felt of late 
 A grudge and greed to have this seed, 
 They say 'tis just the thing they need; 
 
 And ballots are the sole condition. 
 
 The children of the southern states, 'tis said, 
 
 Are hungry, and 'tis said, they cry 
 And whine about for Prohibition bread; 
 
 Must have it, too, or else they'll die. 
 The Georgia people seem to take the lead 
 
 In making whisky dens go dry. 
 Carolinas and other states, 'tis said, 
 
 Now seek this precious grain to buy. 
 'Tis good for all sections, no odds for complexions; 
 
 This grain will give vigor to white man or nigger. 
 With open mouth the sunny south 
 
 Now seeks to gain this sober grain, 
 By the adoption of local option. 
 
 Her land she scratches and sows in patches. 
 Plows up the weeds and sows the seeds 
 
 Of legal Prohibition. 
 This grain, like clover, will spread all over; 
 'Twill take deep root and stay forever 
 
 To bless our Yankee nation. 
 
 THE SNUFF VENDER. 
 
 Where no vision is, the people perish. — 
 Proverbs 29:18. 
 
 The prophet that hath a dream, let him tell 
 a dream. — Jeremiah 23:28. 
 
 Your old men shall dream dreams, and your 
 young men shall see visions. — Joel 2:28. 
 On a time in my life, 
 Being burdened with strife, 
 Many sorrows and cares on me falling; 
 My foes night and day. 
 Seemed to hedge up my way. 
 The flesh being weak, though the spirit is will- 
 ing. 
 
 With labor and trouble. 
 
 My sorrows were double, 
 It seemed more than I ever could bear; 
 
 Seeing much evil, 
 
 Vile works of the devil, 
 I felt sad and oppressed with my care. 
 
 19 
 
I felt sad, too, for others, 
 
 My friends and my brothers, 
 Whom I saw in the broad read to ruin; 
 
 Saw the traps and the gins, 
 
 Many pitfalls and sins. 
 What the Hcense of Hquor was doing. 
 
 Oh, I longed for some place, 
 
 Far away from disgrace; 
 Yes, I longed from my people to go 
 
 With the wayfaring men. 
 
 Where the gin seller's den 
 Could never drag people to wee. 
 
 Far away from these fees. 
 
 Which so stoutly oppose 
 My work, which is strict prohibition; 
 
 Yes, I longed for a field. 
 
 Where the people would yield 
 To my teaching with less opposition. 
 
 Yes, for wings I did sigh. 
 
 From my trouble to fly; 
 I would haste from the tempest and wind; 
 
 Far away would I rove, 
 
 In some regions of love. 
 To obtain better rest for my mind. 
 
 So one night in my dream, 
 
 Unto me it did seem 
 I had wings and could fly like a pigeon; 
 
 Dreamed I started away. 
 
 That I flew night and day. 
 Seeking rest in some far away region. 
 
 As I traveled through space, 
 Dreamt I came to a place. 
 
 Of a queer and a contrary people; 
 Every church in their town, 
 Dreamt was upperside down, 
 
 With a hole in the ground for a steeple. 
 
 As I went down a street, 
 
 Lo! what should I meet. 
 But a Sheriff dragging folks off to prison. 
 
 When I asked for the cause, 
 
 They replied that their laws. 
 Were wonderful strict against sneezing. 
 
 Dreamed I asked them again, 
 This strange thing to explain, 
 
 I so lately among them was landing; 
 
 Dreamt they stared with their eyes, 
 That I was not more wise. 
 
 But a fool without understanding. 
 
 20 
 
Said all was plain enough, 
 
 That a vender of snuff 
 (They wept while they were telling), 
 
 Bribes those who make laws 
 
 To help forward his cause, 
 Bought a license of them and is selling. 
 
 Said, "He's living at ease, 
 
 While he makes people sneeze. 
 That his home is a palace, a mansion; 
 
 Said our statesmen defend 
 
 And call him a friend, 
 But confine those who sneeze in a dungeon. 
 
 Dreamt I looked further down, 
 
 In the streets of their town. 
 There saw infants and heard them a weeping; 
 
 Dreamt those citizens said 
 
 That their parents were dead. 
 These were torn from their couches while 
 sleeping. 
 
 Cast out for the reason 
 
 That their parents died sneezing, 
 
 That this vender had brought them to ruin; 
 Said the saints of that place. 
 Though they talked much of grace, 
 
 Upheld him in what he was doing. 
 
 Dreamed I said they should pray 
 
 God to take him away. 
 Since he causes the death of the people; 
 
 They said, "Our prayers don't rise 
 
 To the God of the skies. 
 But go down in the ground like our steeple. 
 
 "We are Christians," said they, 
 
 "And Jesus we pray. 
 That this wicked snuff vender may die; 
 
 But our ballot we give 
 
 That this vender may live, 
 Put in office and set up on high. 
 
 "By our ballots and prayers. 
 
 It most clearly appears. 
 We're a nation of contrary people;" 
 
 Said, "The folks of our town, 
 
 Are all upperside down. 
 As *tis shown by our church and its steeple." 
 
 I was filled with surprise. 
 Doubted ears and eyes. 
 In regard to this contrary people; 
 
 21 
 
I could scarcely believe 
 Or their story receive, 
 Till I went and looked down in their steeple. 
 
 There I saw all their prayers, 
 
 Which they'd offered for years, 
 'Gainst this wicked old vender of snuff; 
 
 That their prayers did not rise 
 
 To the God of the skies, 
 I dreamed it was all plain enough. 
 
 Dreamed my mind raised complaint 
 
 Against the contrary saints. 
 That I thought them a strange acting people. 
 
 I saw crocodile tears 
 
 On the cheeks of their prayers, 
 As with ballots they strove in their steeple. 
 
 Dreamed those contrary fools, 
 
 Like so many mules, 
 Needed scourging with horsewhips and bridles; 
 
 But a voice from the throne 
 
 Bade me let them alone, 
 Since, like Ephraim, they're joined to their 
 idols. 
 
 I endeavored to show 
 
 That much sorrow and woe 
 Would result from this legalized vender; 
 
 Though he promised much joy 
 
 To each man and each boy 
 Taking snuff, he's but a pretender. 
 
 I said, "Why don't you slay, 
 
 Or else drive him away? 
 And those statesmen who have such bad 
 graces 
 
 From their positions I'd rout. 
 
 And kick them clean out. 
 And put better men, too, in their places." 
 
 They replied that a few 
 
 Were a trying to do 
 The thing of which I was telling; 
 
 Said folks called them cranks. 
 
 But gave them no thanks, 
 Though the vender kept right on a killing. 
 
 Dreamed I looked all around. 
 
 And strewn on the ground, 
 I saw children in rags and in tatters; 
 
 Then I said I will try. 
 
 In this subject to pry, 
 I will search to the depth of these matters. 
 
 22 
 
Dreamed my pathway lay plain, 
 
 And if Heaven I'd gain, 
 I the cause of the poor must consider; 
 
 As the Bible is true, 
 
 I've a duty to do, 
 In relieving the orphan and widder. 
 
 While this vender, the villain, 
 
 This scoundrel is selling, 
 A-hawking this death-dealing snuff. 
 
 These same streams of woe 
 
 From the fountain will flow; 
 Unto me this is all plain enough. 
 
 But I dreamed it out loud, 
 
 And there gathered a crowd 
 Of outrageous fellows around me; 
 
 Dreamed those who make laws 
 
 Aiding snuff-vender's cause. 
 Came forward and threatened to drown me. 
 
 Dreamed a million of people. 
 With prayers in their steeple, 
 
 'Gainst those orphans made a great shouting; 
 'Twas such a vast throng, 
 'Twas so numerous and strong. 
 
 That it almost set me to doubting. 
 
 I found trouble again. 
 
 My mind filled with pain, 
 I'd thought to have escaped from this trouble; 
 
 With my wings I'd took flight. 
 
 And fled from it all night, ^ 
 
 But my dangers and sorrows were double. 
 
 What a sad state of things! 
 
 Dreamt I felt for my wings, 
 To fly from my trouble and labor; 
 
 Dreamt the voice of the Lord, 
 
 Did sound from His Word, 
 "Live not for self, but your neighbor." 
 
 "Stand firm in your place, 
 
 And trust God for His grace, 
 For the Lord is the king of all kings; 
 
 Keep working right on. 
 
 Till- your labor is done, 
 And then He will provide you with wings. 
 
 "There's no place to be found, 
 
 In the wide world around. 
 So safe as the pathway of duty; 
 
 None so free from all strife. 
 
 Putting joy in your life, 
 Which will make it a thing of such beauty." 
 
 23 
 
Dreamed this oracle said, 
 
 As he stood by my bed, 
 To console me and warn me of danger; 
 
 Said, "The devil sets snares 
 
 To catch folks unawares. 
 Watch your feet while a pilgrim and stranger." 
 
 Said the foes of my life, 
 
 Causing trouble and strife. 
 Came because I was fighting evil; 
 
 All those foes which arise 
 
 Look so big in my eyes, 
 I'd need faith while resisting the devil. 
 
 "Take the prophets," said he, 
 
 Looking sharply at me, 
 "For example of faith and of patience; 
 
 By faith lions they slew. 
 
 And did kingdoms subdue. 
 While they trusted in God for assistance. 
 
 "See how weak they became. 
 
 Oh, how blind and how lame! 
 When they doubted and stum.bled and faltered; 
 
 Think how easy beset. 
 
 When with trials they met. 
 See how soon their condition was altered!" 
 
 "There is Jonah," he said, 
 
 "From his duty he fled, 
 But he got himself into trouble;- 
 
 And if thou by God's grace 
 
 Hast been called to a place. 
 If thou leave it thy sorrow will double." 
 
 Dreamt I stretched my wings and flew to 
 my work. 
 
 Determined I never again would shirk 
 As long as there's wrong to righten; 
 
 Since wrong is wrong, and right is right. 
 
 What I find to do I'll do with my might. 
 Dreamed my grip on my sword I did tighten. 
 
 Dreamed I sharpened my sword and 
 
 bent my bow. 
 Determined that I myself would go. 
 And give this old snufT-vender battle; 
 
 I dreamed he was worse than a beast of 
 
 prey, 
 And should be slain or driven away. 
 'Gainst his house I made my arrows rattle. 
 
 24 
 
What though this vender is bigger 
 
 than I? 
 He is guilty of crime and deserves to die. 
 Dreamt I knew he was wrong and I was right; 
 And though this vender was rich and 
 
 strong, 
 And gathered about him a wicked throng, 
 Yet I was determined against him to fight. 
 
 Dreamed there stood by my bed 
 
 An old prophet who said, 
 I will make thee thy dream understand; 
 
 Will the mystery explain 
 
 Of the snuff-vender reign, 
 In that far away contrary land. 
 
 So I bade to proceed. 
 
 For I felt in great need 
 Of learning why I was dreaming; 
 
 Asked him wherefore those laws 
 
 Aiding snuff-vender's cause 
 Said, "Please, sir, do show the whole meaning." 
 
 He said if I had been wise. 
 
 And had opened my eyes, 
 'Twould have saved me my travel and labors; 
 
 Said the people I saw 
 
 With so murderous a law. 
 Like the Gibeonites, were my near neighbors. 
 
 And those laws, if you please. 
 
 Causing people to sneeze. 
 Making babes homeless and paupers; 
 
 Cause this vender to slay 
 
 By night and by day. 
 To fill up their unrighteous coffers. 
 
 All this Pharisee people. 
 
 With prayers in their steeple. 
 Whose conduct is fraught with such evil; 
 
 Those who pray God to save 
 
 Their sons from the grave, 
 And whose votes send their sons to the devil; 
 
 And those men who make laws 
 
 To help forward the cause 
 Of this dirty and wicked old vender; 
 
 With their helpers, the crowd. 
 
 Those who shouted so loud, 
 'Gainst the orphans and for the pretender — 
 
 "All you've seen in your dream. 
 Which to you it did seem. 
 As it were in some faraway land; 
 
 25 
 
All this contrary people, 
 With prayers in their steeple, 
 You can find in your own native land. 
 
 Said, "This wicked snuff-vender 
 
 Is the accursed bartender. 
 Who's as busy at midnight as noon; 
 
 And who ropes people in 
 
 To crime and to sin, 
 *Tis the demon who keeps the saloon. 
 
 "And the people who pray 
 
 To take him away, 
 Then vote to have kept in his station, 
 
 Are the very same people 
 
 With prayers in their steeple, 
 Who're for license all over the nation. 
 
 "And those babes in the street 
 
 Who have nothing to eat. 
 Are the children of drunkards," he said; 
 
 And those dead or in prison 
 
 Were so for the reason 
 They were doped till they're crazy or dead. 
 
 "And those infants which weep 
 
 Are the lambs of those sheep, 
 Which were slaughtered and shorn for their 
 fleece; 
 
 Led astray to their peril 
 
 Into fields that are sterile, 
 By those should have led them to peace. 
 
 "'Twere much better," he said, 
 "If such shepherds were dead, 
 
 Were all drowned in the depths of the sea; 
 When they vote for those laws. 
 Of their woes were the cause, 
 
 Jesus says "Ye have done it to me." 
 
 "From this teaching there flows 
 
 A vast stream of woes. 
 If such shepherds would once turn about; 
 
 If to principle true 
 
 Their whole duty they'd do. 
 They would vote this old bartender out. 
 
 "Go and shout to this people, 
 
 With prayers in their steeple, 
 Go tell them there's no other way 
 
 To make those prayers rise 
 
 To the God of the skies 
 But for Christians to vote as they pray." 
 
 26 
 
So, having commission, 
 
 To proclaim prohibition, 
 I begun it that very same night; 
 
 Dreamt a few of the people 
 
 Drew their prayers from the steeple 
 With ballots, by voting aright. 
 
 Dreamed I saw those prayers flying, 
 As through glass I was spying. 
 
 Toward Heaven were taking their flight; 
 Saw the prayers of the people 
 Streaming out of the steeple. 
 
 Then I waked from my dream and 'twas light. 
 
 And, although it was day, 
 
 Cogitating I lay. 
 Soliloquizing of what I had dreamed; 
 
 I said, "The dream, it is true," 
 
 Yet, what with it to do, 
 I was in quite a quand'ry, it seemed. 
 
 As I lay for repose 
 
 I fell into a doze, 
 And found myself wandering, it seemed; 
 
 As a pilgrim of God, 
 
 In the country of Nod, 
 Which bordered the land where I dreamed. 
 
 But was met and reproved 
 
 By a person I loved, 
 *Twas the seer which had stood by my bed; 
 
 Who warned me of danger 
 
 When I roved as a stranger. 
 Dreamed he looked at me closely and said: 
 
 "You have promised to fight 
 
 Against wrong day and night. 
 But I find you again as a rover"; 
 
 Dreamed I felt much to blame. 
 
 So I answered with shame, 
 "To gain knowledge, I traveled all over." 
 
 "Your knowledge is ample. 
 
 Go and set an example 
 By constantly fighting this evil; 
 
 Now, go publish your dream, 
 
 Make it plain what you mean, 
 Tell the truth, thus shaming the devil. 
 
 "You must live by the day. 
 And must vote as you pray. 
 Before you go preaching to others; 
 
 27 
 
Don't stroll idly about, 
 Causing people to doubt, 
 Remember that all men are brothers." 
 
 Said, "Now be a brave man. 
 
 And do all that you can 
 To save those v^^ho now are in danger; 
 
 You've not long to work, 
 
 And you've no time to shirk, 
 For you're only a pilgrim and stranger." 
 
 I dreamt this, then I did 
 
 Take my light, which was hid. 
 And set on the top of a hill; 
 
 Made it plain as the day 
 
 We must vote as we pray, 
 If the licensed saloon we would kill. 
 
 Now, when I had taken my rest, 
 And considered the prophet's request, 
 
 The sun in the Heavens was beaming; 
 
 I did what seemed wisest and best, 
 Arose from my revery and dres't, 
 
 And wrote down my dream with its meaning. 
 
 So, since I have told it to you, 
 
 I ask, "What are you going to do? 
 
 Will you vote for a license to sell 
 
 This damnable stuff to the people. 
 Thus lodging your prayers in the steeple 
 
 And dragging your brothers to hell? 
 
 "Or arise in your manhood's might, 
 To do what is noble and right, 
 
 By votes rout your prayers from the steeple; 
 Thus causing those prayers to arise 
 And go to the God of the skies 
 
 For a blessing to come on our people?" 
 
 I trust that with gladness you'll see, 
 And with candor acknowledge to me 
 
 That consistency a jewel you find; 
 
 And a blessing in having your prayers 
 Ascend to the All Father's ears. 
 
 And bringing sweet peace to your mind. 
 
 It surely will give you delight 
 When your prayers winged by ballots 
 take flight, 
 
 Leaving nothing but bats in your steeple; 
 When your faith is working by love 
 And your prayers ascending above, 
 
 Thus driving this curse from our people. 
 
 28 
 
THE WAIF ON THE STREET. 
 
 A kind lady, 'tis said, 
 
 Got it into her head 
 That from toil she must seek recreation. 
 
 So strolled out on the street, 
 
 Where a waif she did meet, 
 And engaged in a quaint conversation. 
 
 As she met this bright child, 
 She spoke kindly and smiled. 
 
 In his chubby hand placing a penny. 
 Sweetly asked him how old, 
 Said, "Dear child, aren't you cold?" 
 
 But he answered, "Not now — hardly any. 
 
 "But was almost a-freezing, 
 'Till, like mamma, so pleasing, 
 
 As you gived me the penny you smiled. 
 'Tis as home and as friends. 
 That your smile to me sends." 
 
 Then whimpered this poor little child. 
 
 "You're cold, but look sprightly," 
 Then his face kindled brightly, 
 
 As a tear stole down from his eye. 
 She said, "Poor little fellow!" 
 But her voice it was mellow, 
 
 "But then you're too manly to cry." 
 
 "I'm not cold," said the child, 
 
 "Since, like mamma, you smiled." 
 Then he whimpered a bit and cried; 
 
 Said, "Most people I find 
 
 Speak roughly, not kind. 
 You're first who spoke kind since she died. 
 
 "I could bear all I meet 
 From the boys on the street — 
 
 Yes, all that the worst of 'em do — 
 All the kicks and the cuffs 
 That I get from the roughs. 
 
 If folks would speak kindly, like you." 
 
 She asked him his name. 
 
 And he told her the same. 
 By remarking, "The folks call me Billy." 
 
 I'm not cold since you smiled," 
 
 Continued the child, 
 "But I 'spose I look sort of chilly." 
 
 29 
 
As the child she did meet 
 
 Trudged along in bare feet, 
 She asked him for his street and his number. 
 
 "Don't live no place at all! 
 
 Still, of night times I crawl 
 By that fence, 'neath that pile of lumber'" 
 
 As this waif with her ran 
 
 She said, "Dear little man, 
 What is the name of your father? 
 
 "Folks says I'd a dad, 
 
 But he went to the bad, 
 And they say I had a good mother. 
 
 "They say she's now in heaven. 
 
 Ain't heaven away off up high? 
 For 'tis, I'm sort of believin', 
 
 Coz I've seed her, I think, in the sky. 
 I wasn't much more'n a baby, 
 
 From what people tell," said the child, 
 "Seems like I 'member her, m.ebbe — 
 
 And I thinkt of her when you smiled! 
 
 " 'Pears my daddy was once all right. 
 
 So folks are a tellin' to me. 
 And I remember about him, one night, 
 
 Seems like, I set on his knee. 
 And it seems as my daddy was good — 
 
 Better'n any I ever did see; 
 That I hugged him as hard as I could. 
 
 And he was a braggin' on me. 
 
 "But folks are sayin', and I think 
 That daddy took a downward start, 
 
 When he went to them places of drink. 
 And it breaked my poor mamma's heart. 
 
 "And my mamma, that was so lovin', 
 
 Is gone to a place in the sky 
 Where I think'd that I seed her a movin'. 
 
 One time when I was a-lookin' up high. 
 She's so high up I can't see her face." 
 
 In simplicity said this poor child, 
 "Somethin' moved in a cloud like her dress. 
 
 And I 'spect she seed me and smiled. 
 
 "How I wish I'd some one to love, 
 
 An' to smile like her on me; 
 And it was why I was looking above. 
 
 And trying my mamma to see. 
 But I've never seen, till today, 
 
 Anybody like her," said the child, 
 "Since them angels took her away, 
 
 Till you speaked so lovin' and smiled. 
 
 30 
 
" 'Spect she'll never come to me again, 
 
 'Coz daddy, he went to the bad. 
 Folks say that he fell into sin. 
 
 On account of saloons that they had. 
 Oh, if 'twasn't for them places of drink 
 
 My daddy would never went wild, 
 And my mamma'd be living, I think, 
 
 And be smilin' on me," said the child. 
 
 "What's a conference?" he said, 
 
 As he toss't up his head, 
 "Fer I 'spose the kind lady must know. 
 
 'Tain't a thing what is dead, 
 
 'Coz I heard what it said. 
 And I wish that you'd tell 'fore you go. 
 
 " 'Tis a beast what can talk, 
 
 For out there on the walk 
 A feller told what the brute said. 
 
 And he went on a-tellin' 
 
 It hates places of sellin'. 
 It must be alive — could it talk if 'twas dead? 
 
 "I'd like to see it, I think. 
 For to license places of drink. 
 
 It said right out loud, is a sin. 
 
 And if it's a beast or a bird, 
 
 I'm glad of this critter I've heard, 
 
 For it talks what I'm a-believin' in. 
 
 "Now, if 'tis parrot or ape, 
 
 Or whatever's it's shape. 
 If it can fly or stand up and walk; 
 
 Since it hates sellin' drink 
 
 I must love it, I think. 
 And I should like to hear the beast talk. 
 
 "If straight forward it walks, 
 And does just as it talks, 
 
 A great many people would have it; 
 But if it's like fellers I've met, 
 'Twouldn't stop sellin', you bet, 
 
 And then I should wish I'd not seed it. 
 
 "Still, it seems now to me 
 That it hardly can be,—" 
 
 (As tho' to himself he was talking) 
 "For I hain't ever heard 
 Of a beast or a bird 
 
 A going about and a jokin'. 
 
 31 
 
"But if it's somethin' like folks, 
 
 It might be full of jokes 
 And in fun it might be a talkin'. 
 
 Still, if it hates sellin' drink. 
 
 As it talks, and I think, 
 Then the beast is not a jokin'. 
 
 "Oh! I'd like to f^nd out 
 
 And to solve every doubt 
 Wish I could see what its doin'; 
 
 For its work and its chips 
 
 Might speak plainer'n its lips, 
 As straws tell which way it's a blowin'. 
 
 "It might wear a preach coat. 
 
 Still fer license might vote, 
 Which'd be no use fer the nation, 
 
 Makin' doin's and words fight a duel 
 
 That might be just as cruel 
 As the saloon that killed my relation. 
 
 "There's 'nother thing I'd like you to 
 show, 
 
 For I s'pose you'd know all about it, — 
 And I'd like you to tell fore you go, 
 
 Fer I want to go and climb up it. 
 Show where Jacob's ladder comes down! 
 For I've hunted and looked far and nigh, 
 
 "Tryin' to find where it Stan's on the ground, 
 Fer I'll go up, if its ever so high, 
 
 To find an' to see mamma's smile; 
 Yes, to see her I'll climb in the sky, 
 
 I'll go all the way, if it's more'n a mile. 
 I hain't found it and I can't tell why." 
 
 Said she, "The Bible will show us the way 
 
 To reach that beautiful home." 
 "Oh! can it make her hear what I say? 
 
 Is it a thing like a telephone? 
 Will it talk back after a while? 
 
 If so I'll go right now and speak 
 And I'll tell her I remember her smile 
 
 And remember she kissed my cheek. 
 
 "And I'll tell her, near's I can 'spress 
 
 How, when I was a lookin' up high, 
 I seed somethin' that looked like her dress 
 
 A movin' in a cloud in the sky. 
 And I'll ask if she 'members her child, 
 
 And if ever she hears me cry; 
 If she seed her baby and smiled. 
 
 When I seed her a movin' up high. 
 
 32 
 
" 'N' I'll tell how folks kick me about, 
 
 And how I'm cuffed on the street; 
 How of nights I have to lay out, 
 
 And most all the troubles I meet; 
 And I'll say that I met with you here. 
 
 That you called me a dear little child; 
 How it set me to thinkin' of her 
 
 When you speaked so kindly and smiled. 
 
 "Then I'll say that I'm comin' to her 
 
 As soon as the Bible, that talks. 
 Tells me where to find Jacob's ladder. 
 
 As I'm a strollin' about in my walks; 
 And I'll ask my mamma to meet me 
 
 And be ready to help me up; 
 To be sure an' be lookin' to see — 
 
 For I'll be tired 'fore I get to the top. 
 
 "And I'll stay in the clouds when I get there 
 With my mamma in heaven, I think, 
 
 I don't ever want to come back here, 
 I wouldn't be lonely and sad — 
 
 For from what people tell me, I think 
 I'd not lost my mamma and dad 
 
 If it wasn't for them places of drink." 
 
 How this poor little feller 
 
 Now hates the drink seller. 
 And at the places of selling is mad! 
 
 And there's no one can blame 
 
 Him for doing the same. 
 Since they killed all the friends that he had. 
 
 And there's thousands of others. 
 Without fathers or mothers. 
 
 Whose condition in life is as sad, — 
 Without a friend or a home 
 In this cold world to roam, 
 
 Whose fathers have gone to the bad. 
 
 If we'd have Prohibition, 
 
 It would change their condition; 
 
 And if Christians should say so, we would, — 
 For there's no reason why 
 These in sadness should sigh 
 
 But that Christians don't vote as they should. 
 
 (3) 
 
THE SHIP OF STATE. 
 
 I had a dream the other night, 
 In substance which was true; 
 
 By dreaming thus did better quite 
 Than most of people do. 
 
 I dreamed a ship was on the sea, 
 
 None ever was so great; 
 With sixty million souls on board 
 
 And untold wealth in freight. 
 
 In treasure she her owners cost 
 In blood and tears and gold, 
 
 Much more in bulk than any ship 
 I ever saw could hold. 
 
 A mighty prince her owner, too, 
 
 So all the people said. 
 Whose name is called Vox Populi, 
 
 Though fast asleep in bed. 
 
 This ship did proudly ride, it seemed, 
 
 As she sped o'er the wave, 
 And not a soul aboard her dreamed 
 
 They'd find a watery grave. 
 
 A little leak, but nothing more, 
 I dreamed some persons said; 
 
 Dreamed still Vox Populi did snore 
 Still fast asleep in bed. 
 
 At night a storm-like cloud appears. 
 
 It lightens in the west. 
 But none have apprehensive fears, 
 
 So all retire to rest. 
 
 'Tis midnight and the breakers roll, 
 
 A storm has struck our ship, 
 Her spars are broke, her masts are gone. 
 
 She's of her rigging stripped. 
 
 Her mariners do now awake, 
 
 To idols bow the knee; 
 Some Jonah must be in the ship. 
 
 Who doth from duty flee. 
 
 I dreamed those seamen cast the lot 
 
 To find out who was he; 
 The lot was cast and who'd you guess 
 
 This shirking one could be? 
 
 34 
 
A guilty one doth forward come, 
 
 No tears are on his cheek; 
 The lot decides 'tis Licensed Rum, 
 
 'Tis thus the seamen speak. 
 
 The storm sweeps on, the waves run high, 
 
 The ship with them is driven, 
 She sinks far down, she rises up 
 
 On waves which kiss the Heaven. 
 
 The storm is loud and wailing winds 
 
 Drive waves against the ship ; 
 Seasickness now have all the crew. 
 
 They say 'tis horrid trip. 
 
 'Tis fearful dark and none can tell 
 
 What the result will be; 
 I saw those seamen in my dream, 
 
 Much corn cast in the sea. 
 
 Still madly on the ship doth sweep. 
 
 Till fourteenth night is come; 
 The crew are nearly all asleep, 
 
 But not so Licensed Rum. 
 
 I dreamed he moved about the ship, 
 
 Was busy here and there; 
 Some with vain hopes he did elate. 
 
 Some dragged to dark despair. 
 
 Thus night and day he kept employed 
 
 Where misery's owlet hoots; 
 And thousands of the crew destroyed 
 
 By putting "snakes in boots." 
 
 Louder the storm, the waves break in, 
 
 The rain and hail doth pelt; 
 The darkness, too, is Egypt-like, 
 
 'Twas such as might be felt. 
 
 Now, as we sail, the shipmen deem 
 That near some land we've come, 
 
 But sound and find we're far at sea. 
 Storm-tossed by Licensed Rum. 
 
 The shipmen and the mariners 
 
 To this conclusion come, 
 We never shall have quiet seas 
 
 And carry Licensed Rum. 
 
 "We'd better cast this recreant out," 
 
 'Tis thus the shipmen speak, 
 "He's caused this trouble, there's no doubt, 
 
 Caused storm and frightful leak." 
 
 35 
 
They took him up this deed to do, 
 
 They had it almost done, 
 When millions of this sleeping crew 
 
 Arose and pled for Rum. 
 
 Dreamed senators and statesmen, too, 
 
 Did to his rescue come; 
 Said they'd got rich from revenues 
 
 Derived from Licensed Rum.. 
 
 Dreamed as the ship was tossed about 
 
 It rocked the crew to sleep; 
 Only a few were now awake, 
 
 Just one or two did speak. 
 
 I dreamed I saw a fervent youth 
 
 Amongst this sleeping crew. 
 Who walked the deck in deepest thought 
 
 What would be best to do. 
 
 I dreamed this hero then spoke out. 
 
 And said just this, I think, 
 "Vox Populi must be waked up. 
 
 Or else the ship will sink." 
 
 I dreamed that he the livelong night 
 
 Did try this crew to wake; 
 It seemed a few got up and dressed, 
 
 Few more were heard to speak. 
 
 I dreamed he was no orator, 
 
 And had no call to preach. 
 But said if they'd consent to hear 
 
 He'd make a little speech. 
 
 Said, "Judgment at the house of God, 
 
 The word says, must begin. 
 So I'll begin to talk to you, 
 
 Who say you hate your sin. 
 
 You say, my friends, you love the Lord, 
 
 And tell what He has done. 
 But when we try this fiend to drown 
 
 You plead for Licensed Rum. 
 
 You say you trust in Jesus' blood, 
 
 And to His table come, 
 Then join with those who hate your God, 
 
 Take sides with Licensed Rum. 
 
 A franchise in your hands is placed 
 That good there will be done; 
 
 You use it like you had no eyes, 
 To favor Licensed Rum. 
 
 36 
 
The gospel ax is in your hand, 
 
 To chop this evil tree, 
 But, though his hands are stained with blood, 
 
 You turn Barabas free. 
 
 You pray that Demon Rum may die. 
 
 Then vote that he may live; 
 But don't you see your vote the lie 
 
 To your own prayer doth give? 
 
 By prayer or vote you speak your mind. 
 
 Which is it, pray declare? 
 Your act of voting speaks to us 
 
 More loud than wordy prayer." 
 
 I dreamed he tried to wake those souls 
 That they might hear him speak, 
 
 He pictured out this frightful storm 
 And showed to them the leak. 
 
 I dreamed I wondered at this crew. 
 
 Which did like mummies lay; 
 They scarcely heard a word in ten, 
 
 This fervent youth did say. 
 
 I dreamed I saw him pace the deck 
 
 With tears he then did cry, 
 "My friends, this storm our ship will wreck, 
 
 Go wake Vox Populi! 
 
 I dreamed this hero turned on me 
 
 And gave a searching look. 
 Then asked me if I knew my name 
 
 Was written in God's Book. 
 
 I told him that the things I once 
 
 Did take great pleasure in 
 Were those I now did much abhor, 
 
 Loved God and hated sin. 
 
 "That's good," said he, "and I believe 
 
 There's work for you to do. 
 Pull off your coat, roll up your sleeves, 
 
 And help to save this crew." 
 
 I dreamed he turned to sleeping crew 
 
 And plead in earnest strain; 
 He told them what they ought to do. 
 
 And tried to make it plain. 
 
 Said, "Fathers, you have sons on board. 
 
 This ship has sprung a leak. 
 And friends whose hands are stained with 
 blood 
 
 Do their destruction seek. 
 
 37 
 
You see this storm is drifting us, 
 
 'Tis hard to tell just where, 
 But if this fiend is not cast out 
 
 'Twill drive us to despair." 
 
 Said, "Mothers who 'My Wandering Boy' 
 
 Do sing with quivering lip, 
 Go wake you up Vox Populi, 
 
 He's sleeping in the ship. 
 
 Ye weeping wives whose husbands now 
 
 In the saloon doth drink. 
 Go cry you in the sleepers' ears, 
 
 Awake, our ship will sink! 
 
 Ye paupers, too, with fortune sunk, 
 
 Who naught but sorrow sip. 
 With parents either dead or drunk. 
 
 Come help us save our ship. 
 
 Ye bards and minstrels who compose. 
 
 Pour music in your ink. 
 Come, sing ye down those fiendish foes 
 
 Who try our ship to sink. 
 
 Republicans and Democrats, 
 
 Your silly canting quit; 
 Your idols cast to moles and bats, 
 
 A storm beats on our ship. 
 
 Your leaders all, 'tis plain to see. 
 
 Are led by Demon Rum; 
 No difference but of tweedle-dee 
 
 From that of tweedle-dum. 
 
 Ye mariners who man our ship. 
 
 Some ship may near us pass. 
 Get ready, quick! and run you up 
 
 The signal of distress. 
 
 Aloft, aloft! and look afar, 
 
 If ship you spy, her speak 
 In thunder tones with trumpet cry, 
 
 "Our ship has sprung a leak!" 
 
 Ye journalists and editors. 
 
 Who for this crew doth think. 
 
 Go run the press both day and night. 
 Be quick to spread your ink. 
 
 Yes, publishers, go picture Rum — 
 Go show the work he's wrought; 
 
 Show how the right to ruin men 
 He's of our statesmen bought. 
 
 38 
 
Go send the news to other ships, 
 
 And publish all about 
 That Demon Rum is in our ship, 
 
 Ask help to get him out. 
 
 Ye silver tongued who with us ride, 
 
 Ye of persuasive lip, 
 Your words of oil pour on the tide 
 
 And help us save our ship. 
 
 Ye giant minds with heads in clouds 
 
 In allegory speak; 
 Run in among this thoughtless crowd 
 
 And cry, 'She's sprung a leak!' 
 
 Ye who like Egypt's mummies stand 
 
 As idle and as dumb, 
 Here's work for you, and pay that's good, 
 
 Why sit and suck your thumb? 
 
 Hear, you who can no labor do. 
 
 Can't work but only speak. 
 Go rouse you up this dormant crew. 
 
 Go tell them of this leak. 
 
 Ye heroes who on battlefields 
 Have vanquished foes complete. 
 
 Come join and help us conquer now 
 This fiend that's in our ship. 
 
 Ye minister of Jesus Christ, 
 
 If he hath called you, come 
 And do ye now those greater works, 
 
 Cast out this Demon Rum. 
 
 Ye franchise Christians now awake 
 
 Yourselves like men to quit. 
 Come, with your ballots stop this leak 
 
 And help to save our ship. 
 
 Come, Christians, now of every name. 
 Who pray 'Thy kingdom come,' 
 
 With ballots answer your own prayers. 
 Then say 'Thy will be done.' 
 
 Yes, pious souls, go say your prayers, 
 
 No time allow to slip. 
 Go supplicate a throne of grace 
 
 That God may save our ship. 
 
 I call you all from every place. 
 The church, the hall, the rink; 
 
 Come, hurry up, and stop this leak 
 Or else our ship will sink. 
 
 39 
 
You see our lives are all at stake, 
 
 No time to sleep or shirk; 
 I pray you now, my friends, awake, 
 
 In earnest go to work." 
 
 Dreamed while this hero did exhort 
 
 And tried to save this crew; 
 They made of him all kinds of sport, 
 
 And then what did they do? 
 
 They called this earnest youth a crank. 
 
 And burnt in effigy, 
 But gave him not a single thank 
 
 For making such a plea. 
 
 They kept the demon in the ship, 
 Which each good man deplores, 
 
 But Hero and good Common Sense 
 With him kicked out of doors. 
 
 This hero turned again toward me, 
 
 I tried his gaze to shun, 
 I saw him staring all about 
 
 To see what I had done. 
 
 I said I knew not what to do. 
 
 To slay this fiend; did seem 
 He shouted out in thunder tones 
 
 And said, "Why don't you dream?" 
 
 "No work for me," I said, and sighed, 
 
 "What can I do to him?" 
 He looked at me again and cried, 
 
 "Go hit him with a dream." 
 
 I dreamed I did not move or stir. 
 
 So sleepy I did seem; 
 He put his lips close to my ear 
 
 And whispered, "You can dream." 
 
 I saw this demon in the ship 
 
 As busy as could be; 
 He gnawed the meat from people's bones, 
 
 Then tossed them in the sea. 
 
 "I own this ship and all the crew," 
 
 He said to me," did seem; 
 Then at this devil's head I threw 
 
 My inkstand in my dream. 
 
 I dreamed this hero came again. 
 
 With mild benignant look, 
 And told the crew that he had read 
 
 A promise in God's Book. 
 
 40 
 
"When the enemy shall come in, 
 
 Like overflowing flood, 
 A standard shall be lifted up 
 
 By the Spirit of our God." 
 
 Our hero then a banner raised 
 
 And held it in his hand, 
 In dream I saw the name of God, 
 
 With Home and Native Land. 
 
 Vox Populi was sound asleep. 
 
 And half the crew the same. 
 To Demon Rum the rest did keep 
 
 And spurned God's holy name. 
 
 Dreamed Demon Rum did hate this youth. 
 
 And always frowned on him, 
 As demons all hate light and truth, 
 
 Love darkness, too, and sin. 
 
 I dreamed he sought this youth to slay, 
 'Gainst him raised false alarms. 
 
 E'er since a helpless child he lay 
 In Mother Stewart's arms. 
 
 This crew said Demon Rum was wrong. 
 
 But their excuse was good, 
 Said if they didn't plead for him 
 
 Some other persons would. 
 
 As when "old Balaam came to curse, 
 God made the prophet bless," 
 
 So they expect to arrive at no. 
 By telling Demon, yes! 
 
 Said if this youth would slay old Rum, 
 Or drive him from the earth. 
 
 This noble act he would have done 
 As soon as he had birth. 
 
 But as he did not do this deed 
 
 As soon as he was born. 
 Therefore he surely never would 
 
 This righteous act perform. 
 
 He went to work too soon, they said, 
 Thus served the crev/ quite wrong, 
 
 For he by bruising Demon's head 
 Did Demon's life prolong. 
 
 They said, "This youth is in his 'teens — 
 
 Is strong and active, too. 
 But Where's the good," they said of him, 
 
 "Which he did ever do?" 
 
 41 
 
They said when they did license rum 
 
 That act did him restrain, 
 Since when they turned the Demon loose 
 
 They bound him with a chain. 
 
 They said a license in his hand 
 
 The Demon did restrict; 
 Good sense and Webster's Unabridged 
 
 Did squarely contradict. 
 
 I dreamed this Demon Licensed Rum 
 
 Got drunk on blood and swore 
 That he could wade the stormy deep 
 
 And tug the ship to shore. 
 
 Vox Populi, but half awake, 
 
 Said he believed it, too; 
 Said he would trust the Demon Rum 
 
 With ship and freight and crew. 
 
 Vox Populi did abdicate 
 
 In favor of old Rum, 
 He placed the helm in Demon's hands, 
 
 Told him the ship to run. 
 
 This was the work of bribery, 
 
 I dreamed just how 'twas done. 
 The Demon pays a license fee 
 
 That he the ship may run. 
 
 Dreamed bribes would not change a wrong to 
 right. 
 
 It never could be done; 
 Though laws might sanction with their might 
 
 The deeds of Licensed Rum. 
 
 Soon as the Demon takes the helm, 
 
 To statesmen straight he goes; 
 lie ties their hands and turns their heads 
 
 And leads them by the nose. 
 
 I dreamed they made for him a den 
 
 And kept menagerie, too. 
 So he of, ship made slaughter pen. 
 
 Turned beasts among the crew. 
 
 Then dreamed our hero rose again. 
 
 Another speech he gave; 
 He spake in very earnest strain, 
 
 Looked solemn, too, and grave. 
 
 Said "Statesmen ye, who make the laws 
 
 To license selling drink. 
 For ninety per cent, in revenue. 
 
 In tears and blood, I think 
 
 42 
 
A crime it is so fearful great 
 
 At which ye rulers wink; 
 Enough to make the Ship of State 
 
 Among the breakers sink. 
 
 Go read the rich man's parable, 
 
 Whose sins sunk him to hell, 
 And think how soon without a change 
 
 You'll with that rich man dwell. 
 
 You think of naught but riches now, 
 
 Come, of the judgment think. 
 Lest blood should on your hands be found, 
 
 Lest you to hell may sink. 
 
 The laws, you make your brothers sell, 
 
 That, too, for paltry sum. 
 And see them dragged to a drunkard's hell 
 
 By Demon Licensed Rum. 
 
 Oh, honored sirs! if you reflect, 
 
 The souls of those you kill. 
 Those souls by legal demons wrecked 
 
 Sink to a drunkard's hell. 
 
 Yes, licensed laws, without a doubt 
 Give him a right to kill, 
 And right to deal damnation out 
 In liquid fire of hell. 
 
 Now, if this demon's deeds were right 
 
 Why should he come to you 
 And pay the cash to buy the right 
 
 Those bloody deeds to do? 
 
 You set this demon up in trade; 
 
 His trade is shedding blood. 
 How can you then escape his guilt, 
 
 And stand before your God? 
 
 Why hear ye not the prayers of those 
 
 Who with petitions come; 
 Why close your eyes to misery's tears 
 
 Made wretched by old Rum? 
 
 Why Pharaoh-like your hearts make hard — 
 
 Deliverance sure must come. 
 And if you still refuse to hear. 
 
 You'll sink with Demon Rum. 
 
 I warn you in the name of God 
 Before this whole ship's crew 
 
 To cleanse your hands from human blood, 
 Now I am clear of you." 
 
 43 
 
I dreamt this hero turned away; 
 
 His face was bathed in tears, 
 He sHpped aside to secret place 
 
 And knelt to say his prayers. 
 
 His kneeling place was close to me — 
 
 I dreamed I overheard, 
 So now along with rest of dream 
 
 I'll tell it word for word. 
 
 "Oh, Thou, Most Gracious, Sovereign Lord 
 
 Who rules o'er land and sea. 
 Encouraged by Thy holy word 
 
 We come for help to Thee. 
 
 I and my father's house have sinned 
 And turned our backs on Thee, 
 
 But now our ship is struck by storm 
 And troubled is our sea. 
 
 We sail against contrary winds, 
 
 Our rigging's blown away. 
 Our anchor, Hope alone, we cast, 
 
 Lord, our God, on Thee. 
 
 Our ship has sprung a frightful leak, 
 • There's demons in it, too, 
 And Thou alone canst calm the deep 
 And wake this sleeping crew. 
 
 Open our eyes to see Thy Son, 
 
 Our Jesus on the wave. 
 Hasten thy steps, most Gracious One, 
 
 Stretch out Thy hand to save. 
 
 Our guilty hands are stained with blood; 
 
 1 and this whole ship's crew 
 In guilty paths have often trod; 
 
 O Lord, what shall we do? 
 
 Thy mercy is our only plea. 
 
 Our mouths are in the dust, 
 And, should we sink to depths of sea, 
 
 We have no other trust. 
 
 Cast out this unclean devil, please, 
 
 And we shall doubt no more; 
 Cause us to sail on calmer seas 
 
 And bring our ship to shore. 
 
 Then shall our brothers and our sons 
 
 Be saved from slaughter pen. 
 Oh, hear and grant this may be done. 
 
 For Jesus' sake. Amen." 
 
 44 
 
Dreamed while he offered prayers that night 
 I listened with supreme delight, 
 
 I felt his fervor, saw his tears; 
 While he in humble earnest strain 
 Did plead in our Redeemer's name, 
 
 I said, "Amen. Our Father hears." 
 
 I dreamed that God did hear his prayers 
 And bottled up his many tears — 
 
 Hears all who on His promise stand — 
 That He who walked on Galilee 
 Would calm at length our troubled sea 
 
 And safely bring our ship to land. 
 
 Though fiercely howls the tempest now 
 While Licensed Rum kicks up a row 
 
 And statesmen to him bow the knees, 
 When prayers and votes together come, 
 Then God will help us slay old Rum 
 
 And launch our ship on calmer seas. 
 
 Dreamed Demon Rum was drunk on blood, 
 
 And, standing up to spew. 
 He spattered blood o'er all the ship 
 
 And thus baptized the crew. 
 
 Dreamed priests and deacons stood with him 
 
 While he performed this rite, 
 Dreamed Elder Please-Men said, "Amen. 
 
 The demon did it right." 
 
 I dreamed the demon made a match — 
 
 'Twas when the storm was loud — 
 'Twixt old Democ and Miss Repub, 
 
 A maiden rich and proud. 
 
 » 
 I dreamed he came this maid to see, 
 
 And thus the Demon said: 
 "I wish that out of love for me 
 
 You would old Democ wed." 
 
 She said she did not love the man, 
 
 Said he was much too old. 
 I dreamed he then did offer her 
 
 A ponderous bag of gold. 
 
 He said, "No need in love to be, 
 
 Just marry him, forsooth, 
 That you and Democ may with 
 
 Combine against this youth. 
 
 If you will plight your faith to me 
 
 Both on one plank will stand; 
 You need not even take his name, 
 
 Just take him by the hand." 
 
 45 
 
 me 
 
He said, "A dowry I will give 
 
 And make you great beside, 
 If you will only stick to me 
 
 And be old Democ's bride." 
 
 She said 'twould look so like a bribe 
 
 'Twas hard for her to do; 
 He turned her cantings all aside 
 
 And called it revenue. 
 
 She took the demon's bag of gold 
 
 And smiled on him beside; 
 She vowed to stick to License Rum 
 
 And be old Democ's bride. 
 
 So she became old Democ's bride, 
 
 Took Rum for paramour. 
 They three in Ship of State did ride 
 
 Upon their wedding tour. 
 
 While Demon Rum with king and queen 
 
 Sailed on their wedding trip, 
 I dreamed he stood firm by the wheel. 
 
 Himself, to guide the ship. 
 
 I dreamed the demon, Licensed Rum, 
 
 Leered all askance the crew. 
 For he had heard our hero's fame 
 
 And feared what he might do. 
 
 Discovered Mother Stewart then 
 
 And her heroic child. 
 Seeing them try to stop his reign, 
 
 He raved; was frantic, wild. 
 
 Then floods of wrath through party press 
 
 He after them did spew. 
 Dreamed God provided them a place 
 
 With W. C. T. U. 
 
 A CONTEST OF DEMONS. 
 
 Dreamed many demons more did come 
 
 Aboard to take a trip. 
 In contest with Old Licensed Rum, 
 
 Who tries to sink our ship. 
 
 Each boasted of the horrid deeds 
 
 Of darkness he had wrought; 
 Of discord, how he'd sowed the seeds. 
 
 Of battles he had fought. 
 
 46 
 
First Lucifer on wings took flight, 
 
 Blazed up like morning sun, 
 Told how he'd left the fields of light, 
 
 What fiendish acts had done. 
 
 Said when he left his place through pride, 
 Fell from his throne and crown. 
 
 Third part of all the hosts of light 
 To darkness he dragged down. 
 
 The serpent rose and boasted next 
 
 How he, to make believe, 
 Did search God's word to find a text 
 
 Our parents to deceive. 
 
 How he did boast of fruit to Eve, 
 How he did crouch and crawl; 
 
 By falsehood did beguile, deceive, 
 And cause mankind to fall. 
 
 Apollyon then, a mighty prince, 
 
 Who o'er the pit doth reign. 
 Said he inflicted scorpion stings 
 
 On ruined souls of men. 
 
 Tormented them with many thoughts 
 Of what they might have been. 
 
 Then stirred the dying embers up 
 By pointing to their sin. 
 
 By what they did or did not do 
 He always caused them pain; 
 
 Said, if he could, this whole ship's crew 
 Should fare the very same. 
 
 Old Legion then stood up to speak 
 And told how mean he'd been; 
 
 How he, by hook and crook and freak, " 
 Did lead folks into sin. 
 
 What unclean thoughts he did inject 
 
 By breaking nature's laws, 
 What lunacy and epilep 
 
 To poor, weak minds did cause. 
 
 He told how many ways he took 
 
 The sons of men to kill, 
 Persuaded them to follow her ^^ 
 
 Whose steps "take hold on hell. 
 
 How oft he'd covered up his steps 
 And changed his coat and name, 
 
 How he on blushing maiden's cheeks 
 Had painted guilt and shame. 
 
 47 • 
 
How many, like the Gadarene, 
 
 He'd driven from their home, 
 Of raiment stripped, and, torn from friends, 
 
 Among the tombs to roam. 
 
 That when by Christ's almighty word 
 
 He was compelled to flee. 
 He took of swine a numerous herd 
 
 And drove them in the sea. 
 
 A demon, that was blind and dumb. 
 
 Arose to say a word; 
 Though he could hardly speak at all, 
 
 Yet this I dreamed I heard. 
 
 Thousands of souls he'd kept in sin. 
 
 In misery and distress, 
 Nor ever let those troubled souls 
 
 Their sins or Christ confess. 
 
 Said though they had convictions strong 
 And longed for peace and rest. 
 
 Between their teeth he'd kept their tongue- 
 Caused them to die unblessed. 
 
 I dreamed old Satan, loud and bold, 
 
 With angel tongue, did tell 
 How he did bait his hook with gold 
 
 To drag folks into hell. 
 
 I dreamed that many million souls 
 
 This demon had destroyed; 
 I dreamed he told how m.any means 
 
 To do this he employed. 
 
 He said he traveled here and there. 
 
 To ruin souls made haste; 
 That he might drag them to despair, 
 
 Fixed bait to suit their taste. 
 
 Excepting those, he said, who swear, 
 
 Which to his lot do fall, 
 He caught them best with hook quite bare; 
 
 They need no bait at all. 
 
 I dreamed for vulgar and profane 
 
 No bait with him he took; 
 Dreamed just as fast as he threw in 
 
 They'd grab the naked hook. 
 
 Dreamed Diabolus, unmasked 
 
 And with unblushing cheek. 
 Of hidden meanness, all unasked, 
 
 Proceeded then to speak. 
 
 48 
 
How in the church of God, so sly, 
 
 His vigils he did keep 
 For scores of years; sang lullaby 
 
 And rocked the church to sleep. 
 
 How he did dress in preachers' cloth 
 
 The pious souls to reach, 
 And dragged them to neglect and sloth 
 
 While he smooth things did teach. 
 
 By preachers smooth, he said again, 
 
 He'd caused more souls to fall 
 Than e'er he did by Hume or Paine, 
 
 Voltaire or Ingersoll. 
 
 How cold professors in the camp, 
 
 With name to live while dead, 
 He kept asleep, with empty lamp, 
 
 While the bridegroom nearer sped. 
 
 Said, "If your pleasure you'd enhance, 
 
 Your cup fill to the brim. 
 Come to the party or the dance; 
 
 Taste gilded, splendid sin. 
 
 What harm to do as others do? 
 
 Why over-righteous be? 
 Why walk so mournful here below 
 
 Nor worldly pleasures see? 
 
 Why will you so peculiar be? 
 
 Why be a dolt or dunce? 
 Come, take some harmless mirth and glee; 
 
 Come, taste some pleasure once." 
 
 Said when he thus had drawn them in 
 
 He'd turn and at them hiss. 
 And taunt them, for a mess of sins 
 
 They'd pawned a world of bliss. 
 
 The demon Greed I dreamed was next; 
 
 To make a speech did rise; 
 With him I was completely vext. 
 
 He winked so with his eyes. 
 
 "My name is Horseleech," said the Imp. 
 
 "A son of the Old Scratch. 
 Two daughters have I in the ship, 
 
 For Satan each a match. 
 
 Monopoly I call one's name. 
 
 The other I call Shark. 
 We three," he said, "are now combined 
 
 To try to sink this bark." 
 
 49 
 (4) 
 
He said, "Our business is to teach 
 
 The rich to catch the poor, 
 His labor and his home to take, 
 
 Then kick him from the door." 
 
 "The rich," he said, "I set on high; 
 
 Give more than heart can wish; 
 Their eyes with fatness make stand out 
 
 Who swallow men like fish. 
 
 I own," said he, "this country's press 
 
 And run it in disguise; 
 The rich enhance, the poor oppress. 
 
 My works conceal with lies." 
 
 I dreamed the next who rose to speak 
 
 Was he they call Old Scratch; 
 Whose incubator's full of heat, 
 
 Destructive lies to hatch. 
 
 Dreamed noble youth he did destroy 
 
 By telling an artful lie — 
 Too young religion to enjoy. 
 
 Too young to pray or die. 
 
 "Just wait till your wild oats are sown. 
 
 Till you have settled down. 
 Till you the world have better known. 
 
 Then seek the starry crown." 
 
 Said middle age'd be filled with cares. 
 
 No time to serve the Lord, 
 No time to say their morning prayers, 
 
 No time to read God's word. 
 
 Between them and their Saviour crept. 
 And dragged the world with him; 
 
 Their souls destroyed through sheer neglect 
 Of turning from their sin. 
 
 He'd told the aged "You're too old; 
 
 You've thrown your life away; 
 Your hearts are now so hard and cold 
 
 You've lost your gracious day." 
 
 Though Jesus Christ, with gospel grace, 
 
 Did near the aged stand, 
 He flung those doubts before their face 
 
 And kept them from that land. 
 
 He said he used deceit and lies 
 To make their hands hang down; 
 
 Kept idle till the sinner dies 
 Makes him to lose his crown. 
 
 50 
 
I dreamed Red Dragon rose and told 
 How he had played his game 
 
 Upon the church, in times of old, 
 By taking Christian name. 
 
 He said he feigned to be a saint, 
 And feigned to be quite strict, 
 
 Then 'gainst the pious raised complaints 
 True faith did contradict. 
 
 Instead of love, brought hatred in, 
 
 Divisions caused and strife. 
 Said all who did not think like him 
 
 With heresy were rife. 
 
 Had taught indulgence, too, for sin. 
 And when good folks complained. 
 
 The inquisition he brought in. 
 Had pious souls arraigned. 
 
 Had turned the people's minds away 
 
 From piety and God, 
 To Holy Church and Sacrament; 
 
 On Bible doctrines trod. 
 
 I dreamed this demon did declare 
 He taught and brought to pass. 
 
 Instead of watching unto prayer. 
 The priest should say the Mass. 
 
 For Scripture he put human rules, 
 
 Instead of holy book. 
 Gave prayer-book and a string of beads. 
 
 But the key of knowledge took. 
 
 I dreamed Old Nick spoke up quite bold. 
 Who with Red Dragon stood, 
 
 Said he was in Red Dragon's works. 
 Opposing all that's good. 
 
 Said Nick, in boasting manner, then: 
 
 "Red Dragon is my slave; 
 I'm using him to blindfold men, 
 
 He's less a fool than knave." 
 
 Said priests and prelates followed him. 
 
 And hid away their light. 
 So, when they did indulge in sin, 
 
 The folks would think it right. 
 
 Said when Red Dragon went abroad, 
 He could most soundly sleep. 
 
 For he was worse than wolves and dogs 
 To slay the harmless sheep. 
 
 51 
 
"Stand for your church," the demon said, 
 
 "The church will stand by thee. 
 Saint Peter is the church's head, 
 
 That's plain for you to see." 
 
 He said, "When pious, knowing souls 
 
 For Jesus did declare. 
 Called Him the head of Christian Church, 
 
 He loosed the dogs of war; 
 
 In wholesale murder did indulge. 
 
 But made the folks believe. 
 By killing, they did serve the Lord, 
 
 Their simple minds deceive." 
 
 Caused "that which maketh desolate 
 
 In holy place to stand," 
 Caused priest to seal his brother's fate. 
 
 With bell and book in hand. 
 
 Said Nick: "Our course is marked with blood, 
 
 Through all the ages past; 
 We've slain the folks who follow God, 
 
 Or into prison cast." 
 
 I dreamed Nick said, through wicked men, 
 
 They imprisoned Jeremiah; 
 Cast Daniel in the lions' den. 
 
 The Hebrews in the fire. 
 
 The Imp of hell, I dreamed, arose. 
 
 And cast a glancing look, 
 A sneering glance, I dreamed, it was, 
 
 On those who read God's book. 
 
 He tried to make them feel ashamed 
 
 Of Jesus and of prayer; 
 His fiery darts at them he aimed. 
 
 And tried those souls to scare. 
 
 So foolish and so credulous. 
 
 He said to them, it seemed; 
 Because God's book exposed his lies, 
 
 He hated it, I dreamed. 
 
 He said that book was not of God, 
 
 He'd wager his own crown, 
 For, if it was, it never would 
 
 The world turn upside down. 
 
 Tho Jesus Christ for sinners died. 
 
 To show God's love to men, 
 He made some think that God had lied. 
 
 And that he hated them. 
 
 52 
 
I dreamed a demon then arose, 
 Whose name is called Old Harry, 
 
 Who said that he a law had made. 
 
 That monks and nuns shouldn't marry. 
 
 He said he hated Christian homes, 
 
 But loved a monkish life; 
 Said, when a man would pious be, 
 
 He must not take a wife. 
 
 Thus, men and maids who loved their God, 
 
 Who wished to do the right, 
 He made them vow celibacy, 
 
 In convent hide their light. 
 
 Said thousands more of Christian homes 
 
 Would grace our land today. 
 But for this trick in causing them 
 
 Their light to hide away. 
 
 A demon, then, arose in the crowd. 
 
 Who boasted much of evil; 
 Dreamed, as he roamed, he roared aloud, 
 
 His name is called the Devil. 
 
 He said he loved all wicked ways. 
 Loved discord, hate, and strife; 
 
 Hated all saints from Abel's days, 
 Caused Cain to take his life. 
 
 Said he was in each evil plot, 
 
 Had helped to lay each plan. 
 The inventions which had been sought out 
 
 Whereby to ruin man. 
 
 Said jealous thoughts he did inject. 
 
 To give true lovers pain; 
 Had many a lover's reason wrecked, 
 
 By their own hands had slain. 
 
 Made many a husband hate his wife, 
 
 And cast her far away; 
 Made wives to take their husband's life, 
 
 And their own children slay. 
 
 A hidden demon, then, did rise. 
 And stood concealed, I dreamed. 
 
 Said he appeared in a disguise. 
 Was never what he seemed. 
 
 Said he taught fools to vow and say: 
 
 "There is no living God." 
 Led sinners on so far astray. 
 
 They'd tread on Jesus' blood. 
 
 53 
 
His own existence he denied, 
 
 Thus did his meanest deeds; 
 Behind no devil he did hide, 
 
 Said this way he succeeds. 
 
 As Jannes and Jambres once withstood 
 
 The servant of the Lord, 
 So he did counterfeit the good, 
 
 Made void God's precious word. 
 
 Performed false miracles, he said; 
 
 In darkness did his deeds; 
 Performed the seance of the dead. 
 
 By lies and tricks succeeds. 
 
 The name of Christian Science took, 
 
 And tacked it on his back. 
 So simple minds would leave God's book, 
 
 And follow in his wake. 
 
 "There is no other way," said he, 
 
 "Which pleases me so well, 
 Nor any, it is plain to see. 
 
 So sure to lead to hell. 
 
 No marvel should they sink to hell 
 
 Who choose the way of evil. 
 Who turn from holy way and sell 
 
 Their souls to me, a devil. 
 
 Who have the Fount of Truth forsook. 
 
 As Israel did, in times of old; 
 For fiction, left God's holy book. 
 
 For cisterns which no water hold. 
 
 For wells without water are they, 
 
 Clouds that with tempest are hurled; 
 
 Like Balaam of old, gone astray. 
 
 To roam without God in the world." 
 
 Said he closed up their eyes to the light. 
 To walk in a way which is broad; 
 
 Dreamt he led them to blackness of night. 
 Brought on them the curse of their God. 
 
 Said he taught them their Lord to deny. 
 Who bought their pardon with blood, 
 
 To trust a delusion, a lie. 
 
 And grieve the good spirit of God. 
 
 Dreamt, swift destruction, thus, they bring 
 
 On their deluded souls, 
 Who hate the light, hate God, their King, 
 
 Whose law the wise controls. 
 
 54 
 
I dreamt he shone with luster, then 
 
 Appeared as an angel of light; 
 Said, "I appear as a light 'mong men, 
 
 But I lead to the blackness of night." 
 
 A demon called Dog, arose in the crowd, 
 Who boasted of doing great evil; 
 
 Said he: "I am wicked and proud." 
 Said, "My works attest I'm a devil." 
 
 Said he hated the churches of God, 
 
 That he once with an archangel fought; 
 
 But the people thought him quite good; 
 That he their best interests sought. 
 
 Dreamt he bit the backs of holy men. 
 
 Picked holes in good men's coats; 
 Pointed the finger of scorn at them, 
 • Filled sinners' minds with doubt. 
 
 Like dogs which in a manger lie. 
 
 And snarl at starving sheep. 
 He will not eat the straw nor hay, 
 
 Nor yet let others eat. 
 
 Dreamt he called himself Old Boy, 
 But the Scriptures called him Dog, 
 
 Because so fiercely he did bark. 
 At the pious sons of God. 
 
 I dreamt he scented out their faults. 
 
 On carrion he did feast; 
 Put his best deeds against their worst, 
 
 To prove himself the best. 
 
 Caused those whom God had saved from sin 
 
 And filled with peace and hope, 
 To turn to filthy ways again. 
 
 And lick their vomit up. 
 
 To trample pearls of precious price 
 
 'Neath their unhallowed feet; 
 Turned them from holy ways of God, 
 
 And ruined them complete. 
 
 A filthy demon rose just then, 
 
 'Mid other fiends to speak; 
 Told how he spoiled the homes of men. 
 
 Stood forth with brazen cheek. 
 
 "My name is Devil Fish," said he, 
 
 "From big Salt Lake I've come, 
 And thus I do," to us said he, 
 
 "To make a hell of home. 
 
 55 
 
I put a mask upon my face, 
 
 Teach plurality of wives; 
 Tell people I'm a child of grace, 
 
 Thus curse their homes and lives. 
 
 I dress in a religious garb, 
 
 And feign religion true; 
 Teach people sin will please the Lord, 
 
 'Tis the worst that I can do." 
 
 "Making a hell on earth," said he, 
 
 "Is the way I do insure 
 A hell for them eternally. 
 
 With demons to endure." 
 
 I dreamt Abaddon then arose. 
 And stood 'mongst them to tell 
 
 How he, with vial full of wrath. 
 Had just arrived from hell. 
 
 Told how he sent Mrs. Such-a-one, 
 
 As a friend in a disguise. 
 To the residence of So-and-so, 
 
 To peddle out his lies. 
 
 A wrangling demon sure is he. 
 Sets neighborhoods in brawls; 
 
 No peace on earth, 'tis plain to see, 
 Where he puts in his calls. 
 
 He said he brought along with him. 
 
 Where'er he went, a bone. 
 And carried one away again. 
 
 In the mouth of Such-a-one. 
 
 In brawls and wranglings, took delight, 
 And sought, with all his power, 
 
 To cause disturbance, day and night; 
 Caused discord every hour. 
 
 "A real hell," said he, "I make. 
 For those who take me in." 
 
 Said lies and tattling were his trade; 
 Said he damned folks with this sin. 
 
 Dreamt a vindictive demon rose. 
 
 And said, 'twas his delight 
 To work his vengeance on his foes. 
 
 To injure them for spite. 
 
 Said, when by Christ he was rebuked 
 
 He knew just what to do; 
 "If you won't have that ointment sold, 
 
 Then, through Judas I'll sell you." 
 
 56 
 
To vent his spleen had watched his chance, 
 
 It could not be denied; 
 Took spear, when Christ hung on the cross, 
 
 And plunged it in his side. 
 
 To make those demons understand. 
 
 His deeds to make more clear, 
 He held in his vindictive hand 
 
 And waved the bloody spear. 
 
 Dreamed Licensed Rum stood up to speak. 
 
 And leered about the ship; 
 Disdain was in his very look. 
 
 With pride he curled his lip. 
 
 I dreamed that he a giant was. 
 
 The biggest of them all; 
 When standing by him, all those imps 
 
 Looked dwarfed in size; looked small. 
 
 The crew did tremble when he stood 
 
 Amongst them in the ship, 
 For, let him step where'er he would, 
 
 The ship would lurch and tip. 
 
 He spoke with a commanding voice, 
 
 'Twas like thunder loud, 
 And, though the demon did rejoice, 
 
 Dismayed were all the crowd. 
 
 His speaking seemed to shake the sea, 
 
 It rang through ship and hold; 
 He showed himself a king to be, 
 
 A tyrant, too, and bold. 
 
 I dreamed his fingers dripped with blood, 
 
 With rage, I saw him foam; 
 His lips blasphemed the name of God, 
 
 And cursed each Christian home. 
 
 Said he: "I muddled up conductor's brains, 
 
 I promised him some good; 
 I fixed him up for wrecking trains. 
 
 But I'm feasting now on blood." 
 
 I dreamed all those devils drew near, 
 Which told of their criminal deeds. 
 
 And asked him to make it appear, 
 How 'tis that he always succeeds. 
 
 "Oh, I'm so shrewd," said the demon, 
 "I play on the people my tricks; 
 
 I preach every party a sermon, 
 I myself into politics mix. 
 
 57 
 
I mix myself up in each party, 
 
 I carry one under each arm; 
 Teach the folks to say they are cranky 
 
 Who are doing my cause any harm. 
 
 I'm for free silver and paper, 
 
 And I'm in for a standard of gold; 
 
 I play on each party a caper, 
 
 On the new one as well as the old. 
 
 For the tariff I plead," said the demon, 
 "For high tariff, I plead, and for low, 
 
 And I'm sure to have the dominion, 
 Howsoever their battles may go." 
 
 Dreamed he spake these words with a chuckle. 
 For the demon was now full of glee; 
 
 Dreamt he laughed as his loins he did buckle. 
 While our ship was still ploughing the sea. 
 
 "I'm king of this ship and these waters, 
 I'm above those who'd do my cause harm; 
 
 I sit between Horse Leech's daughters, 
 And embraced by each one with an arm. 
 
 Surrounded and worshiped by devils. 
 
 The invisible legions of hell, 
 I'm with them in all sorts of evils, 
 
 I'm everywhere cutting a swell. 
 
 I'm helping them stir up commotion. 
 Like the angel, on sea and on land; 
 
 I've kicked up this storm in the ocean, 
 I'm trying this vessel to strand. 
 
 Disturbing political waters. 
 
 And laying it all to the cranks, 
 I blame them with all of these matters, 
 
 And add all they lose to my ranks. 
 
 I stand in courts and high places. 
 
 While chuck full of bribes are my hands; 
 
 I control them like cattle and horses. 
 Their decisions just meet my demands. 
 
 My bribes blind the eyes of statesmen, 
 And lure them to favor my cause; 
 
 They dare not oppose by enactment. 
 But uphold me with licensing laws. 
 
 And to lengthen my life, if you please, 
 That I many more millions may slay, 
 
 I perform many antics like these, 
 For I murder by night and by day. 
 
 58 
 
The journalists, of course, take heed, 
 That their items appear to my mind; 
 
 My sentiments, like thistle seed. 
 Scattered abroad by the wind. 
 
 While people of every class and grade. 
 
 Upon the sea or the land, 
 Are willing tools to work my trade, 
 
 Are all at my own command. 
 
 The demon swore, upon his word, 
 
 "All yield to me submission." 
 Said each, by acts, confess'd him lord, 
 
 Whatsoever his profession. 
 
 "The office-seeker, to gain his place. 
 Must step to the tap of my drum; 
 
 Must bow to me, a smile on his face. 
 Or he never will win," said Rum. 
 
 Though conference and synod do declare, 
 
 Both me and my license a sin. 
 Against me on paper make war. 
 
 Their ballots for me they shove in. 
 
 They pass resolutions against me, 
 
 All on the outside of their coats. 
 But they're acting in harmony with me. 
 
 And it counts when casting their votes. 
 
 There are but few who try to withstand 
 
 The havoc I make in the home. 
 While I'm filling with sorrow the land, 
 
 The majority tell me to roam. 
 
 And those who oppose get no thanks 
 
 From the preachers who pray for my death, 
 
 But they call my opposers all cranks. 
 And vote to prolong my sweet life. 
 
 I'm entering the homes of the Christians, 
 Whose ballots play in to my hand, 
 
 I'm dragging their sons to destruction. 
 
 Through the length and the breadth of the 
 land. 
 
 I'm crushing the hearts of their mothers. 
 And I stamp on their babes with my heel; 
 
 I'm besotting their husbands and brothers, 
 And their sisters with sorrow I kill." 
 
 Thus, suiting his words to his actions, 
 Kept as busy as he ever could be. 
 
 Still tearing their flesh into fragments, 
 Still tossing their bones in the sea. 
 
 59 
 
"I've strewn these seas with human wrecks, 
 
 Like this, from shore to shore, 
 And still I heave them from my decks, 
 
 To destruction more and more." 
 
 Dreamed the demon exhibited then, 
 A string of the skulls of the slain, 
 
 And did boast of his torturing of men; 
 He took pleasure in giving them pain. 
 
 Dreamed he wore those skulls 'round his neck. 
 
 As people wear chaplets and beads; 
 Threw a million of skulls on the deck. 
 
 Then told them to judge of his deeds. 
 
 Said, "A workman is known by his chips;" 
 Said, "That's but a tithe of my slain." 
 
 Dreamed, I seeing the blood on his lips, 
 Did shake at his terrible mien. 
 
 I dreamed all those demons drew near. 
 
 Who made boast of the deeds they had done. 
 
 To decide who the medal should wear. 
 To know who the victory had won. 
 
 I dreamed they were ranged in a row, 
 
 For Beelzebub's coming, to tell 
 Which had caused the most sorrow to flow, 
 
 Which had led most people to hell. 
 
 Dreamed, Beelzebub, the chief of all. 
 
 Aboard the ship had come, 
 Praised all the demons in the ship. 
 
 But praised most Licensed Rum. 
 
 Of many demons he did speak, 
 
 Over all the list did come; 
 Said none had caused such frightful leak 
 
 As this demon. Licensed Rum. 
 
 Said he: "I've sought to ruin men. 
 
 Made war and tumult come; 
 But have on earth no slaughter-pen, 
 
 Like this demon. Licensed Rum." 
 
 Dreamed, demon Rum was full of glee. 
 
 And with delight did scream; 
 His frantic yells so frightened me. 
 
 It waked me from my dream. 
 
 Thus I, in ship of state, did ride. 
 
 O'er the sea of life, it seemed; 
 The winds and waves sang lullaby, 
 
 And rocked me while I dreamed. 
 
 60 
 
But, oh! that was a horrid night, 
 
 That night which I did dream; 
 Sometimes 'twas neither dark nor Ught, 
 
 Sometimes it both did seem. 
 
 I dreamed it was a frightful storm, 
 
 It seemed Uke Noah's flood; 
 That Licensed Rum took giant form. 
 
 And plucked the stars of God. 
 
 He boasted he could rule the ship, 
 
 Nor was his boast in vain; 
 Ten thousand he did slay and eat. 
 
 Bound millions with his chain. 
 
 I dreamed scarce one of this ship's crew 
 
 Did dare this imp oppose, 
 But now some folks have changed their views, 
 
 Since this fervent youth arose. 
 
 This hero, friends, still lives today. 
 
 And is doing all he can; 
 He's vowed old Licensed Rum to slay. 
 
 As soon as he's a man. 
 Come all who hear my dream and guess 
 
 This hero's name— try, 
 'Tis Prohibition, his address 
 
 Or name he'll not deny. 
 
 • My reason, now, of course, must come. 
 
 Why tell this dream 'bout Licensed Rum? 
 
 I answer, "'Tis the way I do. 
 As thinking it for me the best 
 
 And safest way of all the rest. 
 
 By telling dreams to wake the crew. 
 
 I did not dream for critics' gaze. 
 Nor did I court my fellows' praise; 
 
 'Twas not that I aloft might soar, 
 I dreamed this for a righteous cause, 
 
 And threw this club at licensed laws. 
 To do some good, but nothing more. 
 
 I did not dream for paltry pelf, 
 
 'Twas not to gratify myself, 
 'Twas for a very different end; 
 
 I dreamed it for my brothers' sake. 
 That I by sleep might others wake. 
 
 Might save from lethargy some friend. 
 
 I did not dream to please the crew, 
 'Twere not an easy thing to do; 
 
 But 'twas to profit them, I sought; 
 
 To rouse the crew and make them come. 
 
 With one accord, 'gainst Licensed Rum, 
 Like men, to slay him as they ought. 
 
 61 
 
Now, people ask of me: "Why come, 
 Alone, to fight old Licensed Rum, 
 
 While millions rise and plead for him, 
 While wicked men join hand in hand, 
 
 Together for the demon stand, 
 Defend him and partake his sin?" 
 
 Some tell me that I have no pride, 
 
 Or else I'd join the biggest side; 
 Some say I stand in my own light, 
 
 And say the demon is so strong. 
 Has ruled the ship of state so long, 
 
 'Tis useless, now, 'gainst him to fight. 
 
 "You can't prohibit him," they say, 
 
 "Though you should dream, both night and 
 day." 
 
 They tell me not to be a mule; 
 
 Some say I've left their numerous ranks, 
 
 Left all the crew, to join the cranks. 
 And make myself a crank and fool. 
 
 Say all the powers that rule the land. 
 The world and devil for him stand. 
 
 Uphold him and protect him, too; 
 They tell me, if I dream and fight 
 
 'Gainst Licensed Rum and stand for right, 
 'Twill anger demon and the crew. 
 
 Will have my labor for my pains, 
 
 Nor office nor preferment gain; 
 Say people will me criticise; 
 
 Must stand alone with this brave youth. 
 With none to help but God and Truth; 
 
 Must have my treasures in the skies. 
 
 But still I dream, say what they will; 
 
 Still hope old Demon Rum to kill; 
 Still trust his day to die will come; 
 
 Feel duty-bound, while o'er the tide, 
 Storm-toss'd in ship of state, I ride. 
 
 To dream and fight 'gainst Licensed Rum. 
 
 As David 'gainst Goliath came, 
 
 With sling and stone, nor missed his aim. 
 And as he brought the giant down, 
 
 Although he went to fight alone, 
 Using my dream for sling and stone, 
 
 I'll help this youth take demon's crown. 
 
 62 
 
TIM MALONY. 
 
 (A Dialogue.) 
 
 Let me now tell to you 
 
 A tale which is true, 
 But of course you'll allow me to fix it; 
 
 Not the place nor the time, 
 
 But the names and the rhymes; 
 Stir it up with my pencil and mix it. 
 
 'Bout a man I once knew, 
 
 'Twas an Irishm.an, too. 
 And they called him the dude, Tim Malony. 
 
 Timmy's wife said to him: 
 
 "Let me talk wid you, Tim; 
 Ye's smart an' ye's wealthy and tony. 
 
 "But 'tis known to mesilf, 
 
 Wid yer pride and yer pelf, 
 Tim, ye've not been afther good raisin'; 
 
 Because, Tim, jist as soon 
 
 As yer frum the saloon, 
 *Tis mesilf an' the childern yer a-tasing. 
 
 " 'Tis a fact, Tim, I find, 
 
 There are many more kind. 
 And many more sober and steady; 
 
 Though I've tried to be true. 
 
 And obliging to you, 
 To assist me ye are niver quite ready. 
 
 "Now, Patrick O'Shane 
 
 Was a gintleman's name. 
 Of which I'm telling ye a sthory; 
 
 An' sure Pat was the lad 
 
 Which I'd orter ov had. 
 An' I wish I'd ha' got him, begorry. 
 
 "Fer my love, Tim, was true. 
 
 As it now is to you. 
 An' he loved me an' called me his honey; 
 
 Whin Pat gave me a kiss 
 
 An' called me his Siss, 
 Sure, I valued it more than yer money. 
 
 "Whin Pat sang me a ditty, 
 
 Tim, it sounded so witty. 
 Sure none sang so swate as poor Paddy; 
 
 Whin wid him alone. 
 
 Singing 'Swate Bell Mahone,' 
 He told me that I was that lady. 
 
 63 
 
"Tim, me heart jumps to think 
 
 How Patrick would wink 
 An' lure me away by his side 
 
 'Neath the ould linden tree, 
 
 Where he once said to me: 
 *I wish you, my Bell, were my bride!' 
 
 "But one fault Patrick had, 
 
 An' they said it was bad. 
 But that same I'm hardly belaving; 
 
 Fer if Pat had a fault. 
 
 He would soon call a halt. 
 Mind, ye's naden't be afther decaying. 
 
 "Now, some bladge, it is said, 
 
 Sthruck Pat on the head. 
 Thin afther, Pat did something to him; 
 
 But what, wid the blow 
 
 An' a dram, ye must know, 
 Pat niver knew what he was doing. 
 
 But Pat made them some sport. 
 
 When they brought him to court. 
 While they tried to confuse him wid crossing; 
 
 "Whin had ye the row? 
 
 Tell us whin, Pat, and how," 
 Said the counsel, his head slightly tossing. 
 
 " 'Twas a bright summer day, 
 
 Aither April or May, 
 Anyhow, we were all out a-haying; • 
 
 No, it wasn't at all. 
 
 It was late in the fall," 
 Thin he scratched his head, thoughtfully, saying. 
 
 "I remember so clear, 
 
 The time of the year, 
 It was in August or the first of September; 
 
 There is one thing I know, 
 
 'Twas cold weather and snow. 
 Ouch, I'd forgotten, but now I remember. 
 
 'Twas none of these times. 
 
 They committed the crimes, 
 'Twas a wai bit before, or a short time there- 
 arter;" 
 
 Thin the judge shook his head. 
 
 While, in substance, he said: 
 "Jintlemen, you will find him a Tartar." 
 
 Whin the jury came in 
 
 Wid their verdict of sin, 
 
 That Patrick was guilty of murther, 
 
 64 
 
Sure ye niver can tell, 
 How Pat's countenance fell, 
 Whin his counsel could help him no further. 
 
 Thin Judge Gorman, he said, 
 
 "Pat shall hang till he's dead," 
 Which put Pat an' mesilf both a-waping; 
 
 An' it troubled me breast, 
 
 'Till I hardly could rest, 
 For long nights it clane broke up me slaping. 
 
 Now, me Pat was the man 
 
 Who himsilf sthruck a plan, 
 Which he thot might kape him from hanging, 
 
 For Pat said, said he, 
 
 "Let me choose the tree. 
 From whose boughs I shall be afther a-swing- 
 ing." 
 
 So the judge heard his voice, 
 
 An' gave Patrick his choice. 
 Thin Paddy looked mighty amusing; 
 
 Thin Pat winked at me, 
 
 'Twas the gooseberry tree, 
 Which Patrick was thin afther choosing. 
 
 " 'Twill not do at all," 
 
 Said the judge, " 'tis too small, 
 The counsel and jury well knows." 
 
 Said Pat, "Don't ye see? 
 
 I've me choice of me tree. 
 An' I'll be patient an' wait till it grows." 
 
 Said Pat, " 'Tis too thin," 
 
 When under his chin, 
 The hangman the rope began tying, 
 
 "Your Honor, no harum, 
 
 Put it under me arum. 
 Or soon I shall be afther dying." 
 
 But they gave narry heed 
 
 To a word Paddy said. 
 Though 'twas mesilf which stood there a-wap- 
 ing; 
 
 Sure they sarved him not right, 
 
 For they tied it too tight! 
 Iver since, Pat has been afther slaping. 
 
 So Pat came to his death. 
 
 For the want of his breath. 
 For the rason Moike Donehue struck him; 
 
 Though the man at the bar 
 
 Was the manest, by far, 
 By the laws of the land they protect him. 
 
 65 
 (5) 
 
Though he's licens't to sell, 
 
 To drag folks to hell, 
 That's what yer rivinue laws are a-doing! 
 
 An' ye're aidin' their cause. 
 
 Whin ye vote for these laws, 
 Which are dragging the folks down to ruin. 
 
 Tim, your ballot ye cast, 
 
 Our home for to blast, 
 For the dramshops your franchise are using, 
 
 'Tis a sin and a shame. 
 
 An' a blot on our name. 
 Whin ye're drunk, 'tis mesilf ye're a-busing. 
 
 Whin ye sthruck Crippled Ned, 
 
 Wid yer cane, on the head, 
 Me blood it ran curdled an' chilly; 
 
 An' I swooned thin, ye know. 
 
 Whin ye sthruck such a blow, 
 That it felled to the floor our poor Billy. 
 
 An' me flesh it was crawling, 
 Whin Bridget lay sprawling, 
 
 By the hand which ought to protect her; 
 Sure, Tim, niver a word 
 From me lips would be heard. 
 
 If in kindness and love ye'd correct her. 
 
 Tim, it is many a tear. 
 
 Ye have caused wid yer beer, 
 Wid yer toddy, yer whisky, and brandy; 
 
 As the proverb has said. 
 
 There's no wit in yer head; 
 Like a bear, wid yer paws yer too handy. 
 
 Tim, there's gold in your purse, 
 
 But the world is the worse 
 That the loiks o' ye's are a-living; 
 
 Tim, our home is a hell, 
 
 An' ye know very well, 
 An example to others yer a-giving. 
 
 For a license ye vote, 
 
 Fer a fact, I've no doubt, 
 Fer the thing which sent Pat to the divil; 
 
 Tim, your rights ye abuse. 
 
 Whin your franchise ye use, 
 To be filling the land up wid evil. 
 
 Now, Tim, hear me through, 
 
 Fer I've this against you, 
 Ye're supportin the thing that I'm haytin'; 
 
 Tim, if I had a vote. 
 
 The saloon I would rout. 
 An' its but fer the chance I'm a-waitin'. 
 
 66 
 
It's not Pat should be hung, 
 
 Who "Bell Mahone" sung, 
 Fer they doped him, thin struck and abused 
 him; 
 
 Mind the man at the bar, 
 
 Was the meanest, by far, 
 Pat was harmless when rightly they used him. 
 
 The saloon was the cause, 
 
 And behind that, the laws . 
 Which license the man who is selling; 
 
 An' behind them, the guilt 
 
 Of the blood which is spilt, 
 'Tis the lawmaker, sure, which is killing. 
 
 If ye license a crime. 
 
 It is yours ivery toime. 
 In other men's guilt ye are sharing; 
 
 An' ye cannot escape. 
 
 Though 'twere murther or rape, 
 For sich dades you the way are preparing. 
 
 Ye're a-setting a trap. 
 
 An' whoever may hap 
 In that gin or that snare to be falling, 
 
 God's Book being true, 
 
 There's a curse over you. 
 An' soon on your head 'twill be falling. 
 
 From the gooseberry bush, 
 
 My story I'll push, 
 To the gallows, where O'Shane was hanging; 
 
 Tim, your licensing laws 
 
 Are most truly the cause 
 Why hundreds, like O'Shane, are swinging. 
 
 It's mesilf to the polls. 
 
 For to riscue sich souls. 
 That right, soon, Tim will be afther voting; 
 
 It's not Pat would be dead. 
 
 If me franchise I'd had. 
 Of that fact, Tim, there's no use disputing. 
 
 I'd ha' saved Patrick's life. 
 
 An' I'd a-made him a wife, 
 An' tonight he'd been calling me honey; 
 
 An' me franchise I'll get. 
 
 An' I'll sthop this work yet, 
 Sure's ever yer born, Tim Malony. 
 
 Tim, me vows hev I took, 
 Wid me hand on the Book, 
 On Holy Mary, the Virgin, I'm calling; 
 
 67 
 
I'll strive wid me moight, 
 Both by day and by night, 
 To rescue the weak who are falling. 
 
 Tim, we live in a time, 
 Whin the source of all crime, 
 
 The dramshop, is ruling our nation, 
 An' there's niver a chain 
 That will stop its vile reign, 
 
 But the one that is called Legal Suasion. 
 
 And God's angel now stands, 
 
 Wid this chain in his hands, 
 To bind this political devil, 
 
 And he's coming right soon, 
 
 To close up the saloon, 
 The source of corruption and evil. 
 
 In Armageddon now stands, 
 
 With this chain in his hands. 
 This angel, for justice he's fighting; 
 
 He'll enfranchise me sex, 
 
 An' the devil he'll vex. 
 For this wrong of our land he'll be righting. 
 
 Tim, I've lifted me hand. 
 
 For this angel to stand. 
 Who will save from our sottish condition; 
 
 Tim, I know he will come 
 
 For to bless ivery home 
 Wid his chain, which is called Prohibition." 
 
 Said Timmy, the dude, 
 
 In a fault-finding mood, 
 "It's a divil of a talk ye're a-giving; 
 
 And I have in my mind, 
 
 It's the raiders ye've jined, 
 Ye have, Bridget, as sure as you're living. 
 
 Yes, ye 'ave joined the ranks 
 
 Of the raiders and cranks, 
 Which such fault with us fellers are finding; 
 
 'Tis at home they should stay, 
 
 And by night and by day, 
 Entirely their own business be minding. 
 
 'Gainst license they're talking. 
 
 As the sthreets they're walking, 
 Just loike thim blamed Yankee praychers; 
 
 Think the dramshop must go, 
 
 And they're tellin' us so, 
 Now the divil take all of sich taychers! 
 
 68 
 
Now, there's Father McShea 
 
 Talks and votes t'other way, 
 Bishop Wrong-Head, Dr. Love-Drop, and 
 others, 
 
 Who stands firm for our cause 
 
 And support license laws. 
 And are helping the dramshop like brothers." 
 
 "Now, Tim," answered she, 
 
 "Please harken to me, 
 Sich prachers are sarving the divil; 
 
 Though in surplice they'll pray, 
 
 And, 'Our Father,' will say, 
 'Deliver us creatures from avil.' 
 
 Thin they'll put on a coat, 
 
 Turn right round and vote 
 For the avil from which they said kape away ; 
 
 From temptation they'll pray 
 
 To be kept night and day. 
 Thin vote it be thrown in their way. 
 
 Of blind pigs ye're afraid, 
 
 And the prayers of a maid. 
 But not of the places of drinking; 
 
 Yes, ye aire afraid 
 
 Of the women who raid, ^ ^ 
 
 While the dramshop your fortune is sinkmg. 
 
 " 'Tis me party," said Tim, 
 
 As she pressed upon him 
 The guilt of the murderous saloon; 
 
 "If thim raiders would sthay 
 
 In me party and pray, 
 I might join an' go wid thim quite soon. 
 
 But they've skipped from our ranks, 
 
 And joined wid the cranks. 
 And they're a-f citing me liberty, too; 
 
 Thin I'll sthick to me text. 
 
 An' the divil be vext, ^^ 
 
 If I'll iver go wan step 'long wid you. 
 
 Then said Bridget, his wife, 
 
 "Thin I'll swear by the life 
 Of our Virgin Mary, the mother of God, 
 
 I'll sthick to the true. 
 
 Whatever ye's may do, ^^ 
 
 An' I'll wash me hands clean of your blood. 
 
 Now, in substance, 'tis true. 
 What I told unto you. 
 About Tim and his licensing party; 
 
 69 
 
But if you are like Tim, 
 Joined to idols like him, 
 And indulge the saloon for your party. 
 
 I have held up the light. 
 
 If against it you fight, 
 I'll leave you in the hands of your God; 
 
 Still this truth will remain, 
 
 Though I've told you in vain, 
 My hands I have washed of your blood. 
 
 But if you will be true, 
 
 If your duty you'll do. 
 If you'll open your eyes to the light; 
 
 If you'll eschew the evil, 
 
 Resisting the devil, 
 Leave rum parties to follow the right. 
 
 I'll rejoice greatly then. 
 
 That I took up my pen, 
 To picture the dude, Tim Malony; 
 
 To tell what his wife said, 
 
 Of the man who is dead, 
 Of O'Shane, who once called her his honey. 
 
 How she talked to her Tim, 
 
 And argued with him 
 Against voting to support a bad cause; 
 
 How she flung in Tim's face 
 
 Both the sin and disgrace. 
 Which resulted from licensing laws. 
 
 Thus, reflecting on all 
 
 In pretense only call 
 Themselves Christians, but break Jesus' laws; 
 
 All persons who pray, 
 
 "Take the dramshop away," 
 And then vote for the dramsellers' cause. 
 
 Of her grit and her vim, 
 
 When she pled so with him, 
 For her home which he'd turned to a hell; 
 
 "What of Billy?" she said, 
 
 "Of poor Bridget and Ned?" 
 For she had a sad story to tell. 
 
 For, sure Tim was to blame. 
 
 And you'll be just the same. 
 If rum parties your conduct controls; 
 
 If rum parties can sway. 
 
 And can lead you astray, 
 On your hands may be found blood of souls. 
 
 70 
 
Now, you know what I mean, 
 
 Keep your hands white and clean, 
 From the blood which the dramshop is spill- 
 ing; 
 
 It won't lessen the guilt 
 
 Of the blood which is spilt, 
 Though a million join with you in killing. 
 
 Just reflect what was told 
 
 By a prophet of old, 
 Who was sent to the Jews from their God; 
 
 "When ye make many prayers, 
 
 I will stop up my ears. 
 For your hands are all covered with blood." 
 
 REPUBLICAN AND DEMOCRAT. 
 
 Last night I heard a funny chat, 
 While I strolled out to walk. 
 
 Republican and Democrat 
 On politics did talk. 
 
 But not on noble principles. 
 
 Did either lay much stress; 
 'Twas of their party's victories. 
 
 What says their party's press. 
 
 One reads and comments on the Blade, 
 
 Says every word is true; 
 Rehash of times the other made. 
 
 Those statements false to show. 
 
 The question of the tariff next. 
 
 One wants it high, one low; 
 Last, both conclude the question next, 
 
 And so they let it go. 
 
 They pass a drunkard pretty soon. 
 
 Who lies beside the walk. 
 From tariff now to the saloon. 
 
 At once they change their talk. 
 
 "Why do they make those fellows drunk? 
 
 The law is strict, you know. 
 The Blade makes that all plain," says one, 
 
 "The license is too low." 
 
 " 'Tis plain to me," his fellow says, 
 
 "Your Blade has told a lie. 
 For I can prove it by the Times, 
 
 The license is too high. 
 
 71 
 
If I could have it my own way, 
 
 Just listen, now, to me; 
 No man would in the gutter lay, 
 
 But for high license fee." 
 
 "Hold on a bit," his fellow says, 
 
 "Your Times has told a lie. 
 That man would not lie there, half dead. 
 
 If it was twice as high. 
 
 A thousand dollars' license fee, 
 
 Is what I do maintain 
 Would set our land from drunkards free. 
 
 The Blade makes that all plain." 
 
 And thus they tossed it back and forth, 
 
 One tossed it high, one low; 
 But which of them came out the best, 
 
 I'm sure I do not know. 
 
 They asked me, calling me by name. 
 
 If I could really show 
 The thing which would saloons make tame, 
 
 A license high, or low. 
 
 I said the way it looked to me. 
 
 And must be plain to all. 
 If, from saloon we would be free. 
 
 No license grant at all. 
 
 They whispered, but I heard them speak, 
 
 'Twas not to tell me thanks. 
 One said, "The fellow's mind is weak"; 
 
 And one, "He's joined the cranks." 
 
 I then came home and went to bed, 
 
 And soon I fell asleep. 
 Musing of what those fellows said, 
 
 How good saloons to keep. 
 
 Then dreamt, as I walked down a street, 
 
 I saw two iDoys at play. 
 Brawler and Brawny were their names, 
 
 I'd seen them many a day. 
 
 Dreamt Brawler on a platform stood. 
 Which tried his brother's grace; 
 
 Dreamed Brawny did all best he could 
 To occupy his place. 
 
 I dreamt he struggled hard enough. 
 
 But Brawler firmly stood. 
 Nor could his brother push him off. 
 
 Let him do what he would. 
 
 72 
 
Dreamt Brawler did impatient grow, 
 
 For he was full of pride, 
 His father'd never said him no, 
 
 Nor had a wish denied. 
 
 In anger, dreamt, the Brawler rose 
 
 To shed his brother's blood; 
 He thought to trample down all foes 
 
 And feared not man or God. 
 
 I dreamt a toddler on the street. 
 
 Near by did skip and play. 
 And dreamt this toddler came to help 
 
 Poor Brawny gain the day. 
 
 I dreamt that Brawler's foot did slip, 
 
 That Brawler tumbled down; 
 His pugilistic playmate took 
 
 Away his place and crown. 
 
 Dreamt Brawny on the platform stood, 
 
 And like a king did reign; 
 Dreamt Brawler set his wits to work, 
 
 His foothold to regain. 
 
 Long time the Brawler struggled hard, 
 
 I dreamt he grew quite thin; 
 Had disappointment for reward. 
 
 Dreamt Brawny hectored him. 
 
 Dreamt Brawler was immoral, bad. 
 
 Although a cross he wore; 
 I dreamt he drank and smoked and chewed, 
 
 Was vulgar, too, and swore. 
 
 Dreamt Brawny, in his youthful days. 
 
 Had served his country good; 
 Had fought and gained his country's praise, 
 
 As noble hero would. 
 
 But had at length grown rich and proud. 
 
 Willful and wicked, too; 
 I have a mind to tell the crowd 
 
 One thing which he did do. 
 
 He sold to Old Saloon the right 
 
 His citizens to kill; 
 This fiend kept busy, day and night. 
 
 In dragging folks to hell. 
 
 For money. Brawny this did do. 
 And more, which I've not told; 
 
 From slaughter pen took revenue, 
 That he might hoard up gold. 
 
I dreamt some secret sins he had, 
 
 But these I will not tell, 
 For they were nothing when compared 
 
 With taking bribes to kill. 
 
 Dreamt Toddler hated Brawny's sin 
 
 But still for him did fight; 
 I dreamt they two held Brawler down, 
 
 And dreamt they served him right. 
 
 I dreamt to Brawny Toddler came, 
 And said, "I've helped you through; 
 
 Give me a plank in your platform, 
 And I will stay with you. 
 
 If you will help me kill Saloon, 
 
 Who has my brother slain, 
 I'll help you hold the Brawler down, 
 
 While I on earth remain." 
 
 Though Toddler was old Brawny's friend, 
 
 Loved him and hung about. 
 When Brawny knew the Toddler's mind, 
 
 He kicked the Toddler out. 
 
 When Toddler saw he had to go. 
 
 No plank to stand upon; 
 He said, "Of course, my cake is dough," 
 
 I dreamt that thereupon 
 
 A platform for himself he made, 
 
 And firmly stood thereon; 
 He made it out of timber good. 
 
 Of gold and precious stone. 
 
 When Brawler saw the Toddler quit, 
 
 And heard him say good-bye. 
 He arose; to gain his lost estate, 
 
 With all his might did try. 
 
 I saw him push his brother down. 
 
 For he was all alone; 
 So he got back again his crown. 
 
 Then boasted what he'd done. 
 
 When Brawny saw his help was gone, 
 
 He lengthened out his face, 
 His stronger brother'd pushed him down 
 
 And occupied his place. 
 
 He looked about for Toddler now; 
 
 Was angry and ashamed. 
 His own defeat he felt and saw 
 
 His stars, and Toddler blamed. 
 
He said, "If you'll come back again 
 
 I'll owe to you a thank." 
 But Toddler told him plump and plain, 
 
 "I stand on my own plank." 
 
 "I stood with you as long as I 
 
 Good conscience could maintain. 
 My prayers you always did deny. 
 
 Your kicking gave me pain. 
 
 "To him whose hands are stained with blood 
 
 A license you do sell, 
 To keep those horrid dens of death 
 
 Which drag folks into hell. 
 
 "I, conscious of the thing, I make 
 
 An issue of it, too; 
 Your simony I can't partake. 
 
 And so I bid you now adieu." 
 
 I dreamt that Toddler knew those beasts 
 
 Were all turned out to roam, 
 Had seen them on his brothers feast, 
 
 And darken his childhood home. 
 
 When home was gone and friends were dead, 
 
 Him driven to the street, 
 He vowed against those dens and said, 
 
 "I'll stop them up, you bet." 
 
 I dreamt that Brawler now did join 
 
 With Brawny on that day. 
 They two together did combine. 
 
 The Toddler for to slay. 
 
 The reasons why they did combine 
 
 Against the Toddler were, 
 They two were twins and at that time 
 
 Kept dens of savage bear. 
 
 They let those beasts to old Saloon, 
 
 Who keeps this horrid den. 
 He of these two a license bought, 
 
 With which to ruin men. 
 
 Dreamt I that Toddler told them both, 
 
 Their doings were not right; 
 He told them of the vows he'd made. 
 
 Dreamt then they came to fight. 
 
 I dreamt those brothers came to me. 
 
 That each one did demand, 
 That I should set him up to be 
 
 A king to rule the land. 
 
 75 
 
I dreamt that something seemed to say, 
 
 Or made me understand, 
 That if I voted either way. 
 
 That blood would stain my hand. 
 
 Dreamt while they licensed old Saloon, 
 
 My brother's blood to spill. 
 If I should vote for either one, 
 
 I should my brother kill. 
 
 Should do by proxy through Saloon 
 
 What license bore him out 
 In doing; then, I dreamt, too soon 
 
 My sin would find me ©ut. 
 
 I dreamt their platforms both were one, 
 Though different were in name; 
 
 Made of the same in kind of wood, 
 Both rotten just the same. 
 
 Both told Saloon to go ahead, 
 
 I dreamt they told him twice, 
 "Your beasts may on the people tread 
 
 If you will pay the price." 
 
 Dreamt Toddler once, like other boys. 
 
 Did have a happy home. 
 Remembers still those withered joys 
 
 Which bloomed ere beasts did come. 
 
 Is looking forward to the day 
 
 When he a man shall be. 
 Says he this cruel work will stay 
 
 At his majority. 
 
 Dreamt Toddler was a healthy lad. 
 
 Was growing wondrous fast. 
 Did love the good and hate the bad. 
 
 Was sure to win at last. 
 
 Dreamt Toddler's faith and courage both. 
 
 His muscle and his grit 
 Were good, and when he has his growth, 
 
 Saloons will have to git. 
 
 Dreamt Toddler had one sister left 
 
 To help him in his work; 
 As Moses' sister wrought for him 
 
 While he lay in the ark. 
 
 The Toddler's sister he doth love. 
 
 Her name he'll tell to you. 
 Perhaps you'll go and join with her, 
 
 'Tis W. C. T. U. 
 
 76 
 
The Toddler all mankind doth love, 
 
 But he Saloon doth hate; 
 Is innocent as sucking dove 
 
 When cooing to her mate. 
 
 Now, old Saloon, who keeps those dens, 
 
 This fiendish one, I say, 
 Is with the other two combined 
 
 The Toddler for to slay. 
 
 Ye Pharisees who stand today. 
 
 And view this harmless one. 
 By ballot you are called to say, 
 
 What shall with him be done. 
 
 Shall him you've burnt in effigy 
 
 Be slain or be released? 
 Today you must hold Toddler up. 
 
 Or him who keeps the beast. 
 
 Which of the two shall be released. 
 
 Or which condemned, I say. 
 Him who from dens would give you rest, 
 
 Or him your sons would slay? 
 
 This question, friends, you may not waive. 
 You're called to action; soon 
 
 Must stand for him who seeks to save, 
 Else stand for old Saloon. 
 
 Brawny and Brawler both, you know. 
 
 Stand with and for him fight. 
 Saloon, his hellish work to do. 
 
 Of them has bought the right. 
 
 I saw this Toddler in my dreams. 
 He calling to Christian friend did seem. 
 Beckoned his friend to come this way. 
 Said he, "IVe something fcfr to say." 
 
 Then said, "I have some news for thee. 
 
 "Come with me, friend, and take a walk! 
 Come see this den and have a talk. 
 Come, I will show Saloon to you. 
 And ask some questions of you, too. 
 It is not very far, you see. 
 
 "Come see this den, this licensed den, 
 Apollyon's scheme to ruin men; 
 In public place this den is made. 
 Hark! siren songs lure to the shade 
 Of fatal poison Upas tree. 
 
 77 
 
"Behold with me this licensed den, 
 'Tis built on bribes to ruin men; 
 Hark! reason's citadel is stormed. 
 See! men are into demons formed. 
 
 Oh, friend, is't not a horrid thought? 
 
 "But bribes will not change wrong to right, 
 Though laws may sanction with their might. 
 You see, 'tis still an earthly hell, 
 Where only wicked spirits dwell. 
 
 Though he the right for cash has bought. 
 
 " 'Tis wrong, and always will be wrong, 
 Though elfs may sing their siren song. 
 Though bribes are bought, a license given. 
 It ruins men and blasphemes heaven. 
 Say, friend, why should we license it? 
 
 "Hark! hear the wolves of hunger howl, 
 Hear hootings of the midnight owl, 
 See! slimy reptiles 'neath do crawl. 
 See vampires clutch against the wall. 
 Oh, what a horrid place is it! 
 
 "Oh, when shall Christians all combine? 
 God hasten on the blessed time 
 When those who are wrong will turn about 
 And help us vote this vampire out. 
 That we may of this curse be quit. 
 
 "But now Denkeeper runs his mill. 
 With misery every sack doth fill. 
 Gives every fool who brings his grain 
 An empty purse and maddened brain, 
 And then the imp laughs in his sleeve. 
 
 "See, homeward now those fools do tread. 
 To hear their children cry for bread. 
 Each beats his wife and makes a brawl. 
 Then hungry into 'bed doth crawl. 
 See for yourself and you'll believe! 
 
 "See, there old Maniac doth rave 
 Like pagan giant in his cave. 
 See, there beneath those Upas trees 
 Old Fury doth his victim sieze, 
 Mangles and drags it down to hell! 
 
 "See, hovering near is Black Despair. 
 What imprecations rend the air! 
 'Tis here the curse of God doth fall. 
 Read Mene Tekel on the wall! 
 
 Hark! hear perdition sound its knell! 
 
 78 
 
"Come! from his den come view his home. 
 See, yonder stands his palace dome. 
 Saloon, you know, is now a king. 
 His wife's a queen — come, hear her sing! 
 She sings an interesting song! 
 
 "Oh, lucky stars, that fixed my choice, 
 Where I can charm with siren voice, 
 And lure to me the sons of men. 
 Beneath this Upas in this den, 
 
 Which, but for license, would be wrong. 
 
 "I'm glad my husband keeps this den. 
 It makes him greater than all men. 
 Old Caucus pats him on the back; 
 Dame Custom holds him on her lap. 
 While license laws do shelter him. 
 
 "Convention swings upon our gate — 
 And we control old Legislate. 
 We're on good terms with old Free Rum, 
 Who says himself that we are some, 
 And license mitigates the sin. 
 
 "Old License Party bows the knee 
 
 And worships both my man and me. 
 
 There's Congress, too, though he's quite 
 
 strong, 
 Saloon can nose him right along. 
 
 To catch his vote he'll crouch and crawl. 
 
 "And though Miss White House is so high, 
 We have a finger in her pie. 
 Old State doth at our altar call. 
 And Nation at our shrine doth fall. 
 Our license sets us over all. 
 
 "We've many servants, too, you see. 
 To wait upon my man and me. 
 The best of all is old Miss Drunk, 
 And we have both her key and trunk. 
 Our license answers for a key. 
 
 "Her hands are full of bribes and sin. 
 And many a dollar she brings in. 
 She gives old Court his tasks to do. 
 Finds work for bloody fingers, too. 
 We'll keep her while we keep this den. 
 
 "She's always busy night and day; 
 Is savage as wild beasts of prey. 
 She's muddling up Conductor's brains, 
 And fixing him for wrecking trains. 
 We've got our wealth from ruined men. 
 
 79 
 
"You see that gibbet there so high, 
 Red-fingers hanging up to dry? 
 'Twas drink that fixed him up to swing, 
 You see, our dens are just the thing. 
 There's virtue still in licensed den. 
 
 "See here, beneath our Upas shade, 
 A score of men in stupor laid. 
 Miss Drunk leads Tipple in her track, 
 With Moderation further back — 
 But Licensed Den will draw him in. 
 
 "See there. Dame Drunk, though gray with 
 
 age, 
 Still gnaws her victim in her cage. 
 When she has cleared his bones of meat. 
 She'll dump his carcass in the street; 
 To keep him longer is a sin. 
 
 "And I might sing of thousands more. 
 Now made secure by prison door; 
 And point the very moments when 
 We first entrapped them in our pen. 
 No gin on earth like licensed den. 
 
 "The poorhouse, too, our dens do fill; 
 We're grinding misery in our mill; 
 We're filling homes with grief and woe. 
 We've bought the right to serve them so; 
 This right belongs to licensed den. 
 
 "Hark! hear ten thousand widows sigh, 
 Who have no friend their tears to dry. 
 Our dens have these poor souls bereft. 
 And naught but sorrow to them left. 
 
 We've caught their husbands in our den. 
 
 "Hark, hear their sighs! they raise a breeze 
 Which ripples lakes and moves the trees. 
 And there are streams of orphans' tears 
 Which have been flowing on for years; 
 'Tis river now and runs our mill. 
 
 "It tickles me; you don't believe 
 How oft I laugh in my own sleeve. 
 When Licensed Party comes to view, 
 The work he's voted we should do; 
 Protects us in our business still. 
 
 "Our work he judges by our chips. 
 And moves and mumbles with his lips. 
 When all this ruin he doth see. 
 He calls it personal liberty. 
 Our purchased liberty remains. 
 
"We've bought of him the right so rare 
 Of driving people to despair. 
 You hear that mother, calUng John. 
 Behold, she's v^eeping! see her run! 
 Our freedom does her John enchain. 
 
 "Saloon, my husband, slew her boy, 
 Her only son, her pride, her joy. 
 See, now with wild despair she stands, 
 In anguish deep she wrings her hands! 
 That mother's loss is all our gain. 
 
 "Come on. Saloon, for 'tis quite plain 
 That you o'er all the people reign. 
 The laws protect this work, you see. 
 And both old parties stand by thee. 
 They bid for votes and Ucense fee." 
 
 Then said Saloon unto his wife, 
 "Yet what availeth me my life. 
 While at my gate doth stand 
 This Toddler, whom I hate to see. 
 Prohibition, who opposeth me. 
 With all his growing band? 
 
 I hate him worse than all beside; 
 He's dug a chasm deep and wide. 
 
 For me to tumble in; 
 He's praying down Jehovah's ire. 
 And heaping on me coals of fire. 
 To burn against my sin." 
 
 Said Mrs. Saloon, his Zeresh wife, 
 "Thou hast naught to do but take his life. 
 Then, Haman-like, go in and feast, 
 And drink thy wine and hug thy beast, 
 For thou hast paid thy license fee." 
 
 Saloon, the demon, did rejoice, 
 And kissed his jewelled bride. 
 
 In nasal tones he raised his voice. 
 She sitting by his side. 
 
 "Now I'm secure on every side 
 
 And living like a king. 
 They come to me from far and wide 
 
 And wealth to me they bring. 
 
 "The high, the low, the rich, the poor, 
 
 The travelers and the tramps- 
 It makes no difference to me, 
 I'm raking in the stamps. 
 
 81 
 (6) 
 
"There's two great parties in the land; 
 
 Both bow to me their knees. 
 Like walls of adamant they stand 
 
 Around my dens and trees. 
 
 "Protective laws for me they made; 
 
 They do it, too, so nice! 
 'Tis just the same as bribes they take; 
 
 Ten times they've raised the price. 
 
 "And Mr. Clergy stands for me; 
 
 To license me he votes; 
 He helps hold up my Upas tree. 
 
 But puffeth at its fruits. 
 
 "If with the Toddler he'd combine, 
 They'd soon chop down my trees. 
 
 But to his idols he is joined, 
 That gives me rest and ease." 
 
 The demon then a chorus sang. 
 
 Still sitting by his queen. 
 At intervals she joined with him, 
 
 In singing the refrain. 
 
 "While all the earth I do control, 
 Why think I of the morrow? 
 
 My wife's no widow, but a queen, 
 And never shall have sorrow. 
 
 "While courts and cabinets I rule, 
 Or cities, states and nation. 
 
 My license fees support the schools. 
 My dens rule every station." 
 
 I then in dream heard Toddler talk 
 To Christian friend as they did walk. 
 Said he, "You've seen the king and queen, 
 Have to their splendid mansion been. 
 One thing I'd like to have you do. 
 
 "Some questions I will ask of thee 
 About Saloon— please answer me. 
 Why will you vote for old Saloon, 
 'Mid gospel day as bright as noon — 
 Pray tell me what excuse have you? 
 
 "Why will you for a party stand. 
 Which sells us into demons' hands? 
 Why blame your party for the wrong 
 While to that party you belong; 
 By proxy all its actions do? 
 
 82 
 
"Why license this infernal den, 
 This child of hell, to ruin men? 
 Why say that license does restrict? 
 Why law and Webster contradict? 
 Why will you your own self deceive? 
 
 "You know 'tis a permissive grant, 
 And takes away the law's restraint, 
 And gives Saloon a right and power 
 Which he did not possess before. 
 Why peddle stuff you don't believe? 
 
 "Without a license in his hand, 
 Saloon's an outlaw in the land. 
 With him the people would not bear, 
 For he's a nuisance everywhere, 
 A foe of yours as well as mine. 
 
 "Why guard with laws the demon's den. 
 Hands off while he keeps slaughter pen? 
 Why sell the right to do his deeds? 
 Why sow, to harvest only weeds? 
 Oh, say, why will you license crime? 
 
 "Why ope saloon by license laws, 
 Make woes and wounds without a cause? 
 Say, why with sorrow lade his back 
 For him to strew along his track? 
 Oh, say, why will you legalize? 
 
 "While license is the only prop 
 Which holds the infernal demon up. 
 This legal instrument withheld, 
 At once the tree of death is felled 
 To earth, and there it prostrate lies. 
 
 "No hiding place has old Saloon, 
 Till license fee secures him one. 
 No arm that dare defend his cause; 
 No shelter but 'neath license laws. 
 Say, friend, why will you shelter him? 
 
 "Saloon's a curse to human race; 
 To Christian nations a disgrace; 
 Say, can we Jesus' people be 
 And legalize this Upas tree. 
 
 And by this act partake its sin? 
 
 "Why climb into the Upas top 
 At tip of highest boughs to chop? 
 Why, perched in branch like owlet, hoot 
 Against the evils of its fruits. 
 
 Then plead and vote to spare the tree? 
 
 83 
 
"Why not come down and hit the cause? 
 Why strike ye not at license laws? 
 Why chop ye not at Upas root, 
 Instead of croaking at its fruit? 
 Why will you so deceitful be? 
 
 "Why dance you to that party's tune, 
 Which is the sponsor for Saloon? 
 Thus vote to make the fountain flow. 
 Then grumble at the stream below? 
 Go dry the fount, the stream to dry! 
 
 "Why plead to make the license higher, 
 To screen Saloon from people's ire. 
 Then publish every week cartoon 
 Against the life of old Saloon? 
 If there's a reason, tell me why! 
 
 "Why, since this fact to you is known, 
 That 'tis demanded by Saloon 
 That you should make his license high. 
 Lest he by Toddler's hand should die? 
 Why grant Saloon's request? Say, why? 
 
 "Why take position, which you know 
 Will please Saloon, your wily foe? 
 Why take the demon by the hand 
 And grant him all he does demand, 
 And then against his business cry? 
 
 "Why license sell at price so high, 
 Then against Saloon raise hue and cry. 
 While you indulge him in his sin? 
 Why feign to be a foe to him? 
 
 Say, why, my Christian friend, say, why? 
 
 "Why frame a statute law so, when 
 Saloon has wrecked a set of men, 
 Has broken their stamina. 
 And taken all respect away? 
 
 He's bound them fast in habit's chains. 
 
 "Why, when he's made a man a sot, 
 Stript him of all that he had got, 
 Made quenchless fire of thirst to burn — 
 Why then against the fellow turn? 
 
 Why cause a ruined wreck such pain? 
 
 "Why, since no man's a sot, you know, 
 Until Saloon has made him so, 
 Why make it lawful for Saloon 
 To kick the fellow out, as soon 
 As ever he has ruined him? 
 
 84 
 
"Why clothe a man in rags and shame, 
 His children and his wife defame; 
 Why spoil their home and resting place, 
 Bring them to ruin and disgrace; 
 
 Make all the world look down on them? 
 
 "Why drag a fellow down so low 
 His own relations will not know? 
 No coat, no hat, no shoes on feet— 
 At midnight kicked into the street- 
 Why treat him so outrageous mean? 
 
 "Why start a fellow down at first. 
 Then turn about and mock his thirst? 
 Why, when Saloon's got every cent. 
 When all his household goods are spent, 
 Why turn him to the street to die? 
 
 "Why will you at Saloon connive. 
 And let him skin a m.an alive. 
 Then take his tallow and his hide- 
 Say, why not kick Saloon outside? 
 
 Come now, my friend, and tell me why? 
 
 Just then I heard some person groan. 
 I dreamt did sound like Toper's moan; 
 Demoniac scowl his visage take ; 
 He shrieks his boots are full of snakes; 
 "Behold," said he, "my lost condition! 
 Come, interpose by Prohibition! 
 
 "Come, hear a brother's piteous wail, 
 Just sliding down the gulch of hell! 
 Come vote this demon drink away, 
 This liquid fire of hell, I pray! 
 Show pity on my lost condition! 
 Hurry and help by Prohibition! 
 
 "This wine and ale, this gin and beer, 
 They've caused me many a bitter tear. 
 Oh, take them far from me away. 
 And keep them from my sight, I pray. 
 In pity for my lost condition. 
 And interpose by Prohibition! 
 
 "This cause of sorrow, wounds and woes, 
 This source whence misery's river flows- 
 Say, brothers, while with you 'tis well. 
 Pray snatch me from a drunkard's hell! 
 Show pity on my lost condition! 
 Interpose by Prohibition! 
 
 85 
 
"So strong my habits now are formed, 
 My foe the citadel has stormed; 
 No chance have I to save my soul, 
 Lest you prohibit me this bowl. 
 Be quick to pity my condition! 
 Now interpose by Prohibition! 
 
 "My vows are broke as soon as made. 
 
 Resolves and re-resolves are dead; 
 
 Come, bind this fiend which now binds me, 
 
 His bondage only can set free. 
 
 Pity, friends, my lost condition, 
 
 And interpose by Prohibition! 
 
 "Dissolve those bonds which bind my soul! 
 With franchise break this poisoned bowl; 
 Though priest and Levite pass me by. 
 And leave me wounded here to die! 
 Pity thou my lost condition; 
 Yet interpose by Prohibition! 
 
 "Take pity, oh, my friends, on me! 
 And set me from this bondage free. 
 Do pity me, my friends, I pray — 
 Do vote this license curse away! 
 Pity show my lost condition. 
 But interpose by Prohibition! 
 
 "No don't talk of regulation — 
 Don't ever mention high taxation! 
 'Twill bring no help to helpless me. 
 Nor ever chop this evil tree. 
 Show pity on my lost condition; 
 Oh, interpose by Prohibition! 
 
 "This Upas can't be felled by tax. 
 Lay to the Prohibition ax! 
 Your regulation only props. 
 No ax but Prohibition chops. 
 Pity, friends, my lost condition. 
 And interpose by Prohibition! 
 
 "Saloons are ope'd on such condition, 
 Naught can close but Prohibition! 
 If you should range the world around. 
 Naught to close them can be found. 
 And so to help my lost condition, 
 You needs must vote for Prohibition! 
 
 "If you for license low or high 
 Do vote, you vote for me to die. 
 Such is now my lost condition, 
 Naught can save but Prohibition! 
 Pity show my lost condition! 
 Interpose by Prohibition! 
 
 86 
 
"Hear and heed my sad refrain, 
 Lest you at last should plead in vain; 
 Lest the cry of your brother's blood 
 Should reach the ears of the righteous God. 
 Pity show my lost condition, 
 And interpose by Prohibition!" 
 
 I dreamt they said they'd aid his cause, 
 But went and made high license laws; 
 Thus stopped their ears and closed their eyes 
 Against their brother's plaintive cries. 
 They let the fellow die, it does seem. 
 Their conduct caused me all this dream. 
 Thousands now in sad condition 
 Would be saved by Prohibition! 
 
 If you leave them in the snare, 
 Let them sink to black despair. 
 That act will cause my mind such pain, 
 I fear 'twill make me dream again. 
 
 My dream to apologue has grown. 
 I've tried to hit the demon's den. 
 And ope the eyes of honest men. 
 To vote against this slaughter pen. 
 
 And thus the demon drink dethrone. 
 
 Some say my dream is mixed with chaff. 
 Pray, friend, what dream was ever told 
 Without alloy, all solid gold. 
 Except the dreams of prophets old — 
 
 What reason, then, at mine to laugh? 
 
 Let those who at my dream complain 
 Rememer this: no choice I had. 
 So if 'tis good or if 'tis bad. 
 Makes you rejoice or makes you sad, 
 
 The fact I've dreamed doth still remain. 
 
 Although I've no excuse to make, 
 Nor have I any ax to grind. 
 Nor selfish motive in my mind, 
 Nor wealth nor honor seek to find, 
 
 Yet on myself the task I take. 
 
 To tell my dream, that you may wake 
 And realize how things do seem 
 To people in the land of dream. 
 Good sense will tell you what I mean. 
 
 'Tis for your own relations' sake. 
 
Some questions Toddler asks his friend 
 About those laws which ruin men, 
 Perhaps you'd like to answer them? 
 I find by search, not one in ten, 
 
 To try this task do feel inclined. 
 
 Since Toddler's friend such silence keeps 
 'Bout why he croaks at Upas fruit. 
 And why his mind it does not suit, 
 To use the ax upon its root. 
 
 Although his wife and children weep. 
 
 Come, give some reason, if you can. 
 
 Answer the Toddler's questions fair. 
 
 Come, tell us what your reasons are. 
 
 Stand up and face this subject square! 
 Come, show yourself a little man. 
 
 Why vote that old Saloon shall reign? 
 This fiendish life why still prolong. 
 Since you have heard his wicked song, 
 Since all his doings, too, are wrong. 
 
 Why feel you not your brother's pain? 
 
 If still you do Saloon befriend, 
 What good is it for you to hoot 
 Against the evils of his fruit? 
 'Twere just as well if you were mute! 
 
 You vote his business to defend. 
 
 'Tis plain to you as well as me. 
 
 You cannot help this truth to know; 
 While growling at the stream below, 
 Your ballot makes the fountain flow. 
 
 This truth you cannot help but see. 
 
 These questions answer at the polls, 
 
 Regardless of old party strife. 
 
 You know Saloon's with mischief rife. 
 
 Come, vote to save your home and wife! 
 Come, clear your skirts from blood of souls! 
 
 -..)^ 
 
 88 
 
THE RED DRAGON. 
 
 Let me tell you, my friends, 
 
 What a time I've had dreaming. 
 
 As I slept 'neath the trees 
 
 Where the moon beams were streaming. 
 
 Quite a number of folks 
 With myself were enroute, 
 And we traveled a path 
 Which but few ever travel. 
 'Twas in the lonely way 
 Where our convictions lay; 
 'Twas by faith that we travel'd. 
 No misgiving or doubt. 
 Though some called us cranks. 
 And at us did marvel. 
 
 As we traveled o'er Mundane 
 And were nearing its height, 
 To the camp of Armageddon 
 We came in the night. 
 
 By the light of their campfires 
 
 Their armies were viewing, 
 
 While their generals were mustering 
 
 Their hosts for the fight. 
 
 When we knew what they meant, 
 
 We then set up our tent. 
 
 To obstruct and deter them 
 
 From what they were doing; 
 
 For the wrong they contended. 
 
 But we strove for the right. 
 
 'Gainst the weal of our race, 
 I dreamed they were warring. 
 For that greatest of days 
 Of th' Almighty preparing. 
 
 I saw their leaders, in my dream. 
 In each exalted station 
 For the ruin of their fellow men 
 Their forces did combine. 
 Dreamt I saw them engage; 
 Heard their noise and their rage; 
 Heard their reproaches sound 
 Throughout the whole creation; 
 Heard fatherless and widows weep; 
 Saw them in want and sorrow pine. 
 
 I dreamt 'neath the pine trees 
 Of many past ages 
 Which had sheltered the heads 
 Both of prophets and sages. 
 
 89 
 
Dreamt we stood 'neath those trees, — 
 In the breeze they were waving,— 
 Their shadows from moonbeams 
 Over hill sides were crawling, — 
 Trees prodigiously high 
 With their arms in the sky. 
 Dreamt Time's onward stream 
 The roots of those pine trees was laving; 
 Underwashed by its tide, many trees 
 On its margin lay sprawling. 
 
 By those campfires we lay; 
 Planned how best we could fight. 
 Talked of the wrongs of our times 
 Until late in the night. 
 
 Those tall trees still swayed 
 
 In the breeze, gently blowing. 
 
 Like spectres or angels, 
 
 Their high cones were nodding. 
 
 That, each viewed from afar, 
 
 Seemed a giant which grabbed at a star. 
 
 Dreamed we talked and we yawned, 
 
 'Till we sleepy were growing, 
 
 Then we slept,— but in dreamland 
 
 On our way we kept plodding. 
 
 Dreamed I looked toward the sea; 
 Like mountains its billows were rolling 
 On its shore. Armageddon's 
 Vast hosts were marching, patrolling. 
 
 Then I dreamt that I saw, 
 
 Coming up from the ocean, a beast, 
 
 A Red Dragon, a monster. 
 
 All covered with foam. 
 
 Dreamt he came to my door 
 
 All dripping with gore. 
 
 And demanded my children 
 
 To make him a feast. 
 
 Yes, I dreamed that this monster 
 
 Made war on the home. 
 
 This monster carried with him. 
 In almost every place. 
 Confusion, wrangling, murder, 
 Rape and foul disgrace. 
 
 In city, village and hamlet — 
 In almost every town. 
 He made such dreadful havoc 
 As I ne'er saw in all my life. 
 I said that statesmen wise. 
 Most surely will arise 
 
 90 
 
At once, and put this hideous, 
 Licensed monster down. 
 Thought each would try to save 
 His children and his wife. 
 
 I dreamt that all the people 
 In the whole wide country came 
 To see this bloody monster 
 Play his murderous game. 
 
 Dreamt 'twas a fearful sight 
 To see him gulping people down. 
 I dreamt they looked aghast,— 
 That many fled with fright. 
 I dreamt some simple cranks 
 Came from the people's ranks 
 To drive this bloody monster 
 From our troubled town. 
 They sought to slay this beast ^ 
 And dreamt 'twould serve him right. 
 
 Dreamt, as he up and down 
 Our troubled streets did crawl, 
 Old party politicians 
 At this monster's feet did fall,— 
 
 Told him, if he would stand 
 
 For them against the cranks. 
 
 His personal liberty in 
 
 Slaying people they'd defend,— 
 
 Would try and fix the laws 
 
 To favor his unrighteous cause,— 
 
 Sell him the liberty to run; 
 
 Besides they'd owe him thanks,— 
 
 Would pay their homage at his feet,- 
 
 Said on them he might depend. 
 
 I dreamt a band of female saints 
 Did give this dragon battle; 
 Against this monster's scaly sides 
 They made their weapons rattle. 
 
 Dreamt, as they fought this beast 
 I heard them weep and wail, 
 Because this beast had entered 
 And despoiled their homes. 
 Dreamt politicians said: 
 "Don't strike the monster s head! 
 Just tap the critter gently, 
 Very gently, on the tail." 
 Said, "'Twould be too bad ^^ 
 To break the critter's bones. 
 
 91 
 
"You surely can't prevent 
 His horrid work," they said, 
 '"Tis folly for you to try 
 To kill the reptile dead." 
 
 Dreamt, against those holy raiders 
 They did jibe and rail, — 
 (Tho' they were only doing 
 Just as God would have them do) ; 
 Went forth in their might 
 'Gainst those raiders to fight: 
 Laid hands upon those saints 
 And shut them up in jail 
 Because they fought the beast 
 With mother's instinct true. 
 
 Dreamt, Party Press then said 
 That he would slay that beast, 
 And dreamt he went and made 
 For him a regulation feast. 
 And sweetened it with honey 
 Taken from High License hive. 
 Dreamt old party leaders 
 Help Press this thing to do, — 
 Went halves in the feast 
 Which Press made for the beast, 
 And dreamt that thus they kept 
 This great Red Dragon still alive; 
 But made the reptile pay a tax 
 Which they called revenue. 
 
 Dreamt those statesmen said 
 That all the folks were cranks, 
 Who left their hosts and joined 
 Those Holy Raiders' ranks 
 To drive this great Red Dragon 
 From our homes and native land. 
 "Since he is now entrenched 
 In politics," they cry, 
 "It surely is not right 
 Against this beast to fight. 
 Said, "If Priest from pulpit 
 Towards him should shake his hand 
 'Twould be a crime for which 
 That preacher ought to die." 
 
 I dreamed that politicians said 
 That it would never do 
 'Gainst him to fulminate 
 In pulpit or in pew. 
 
 E'en if the monster slay 
 And eat your darling child, 
 No party should you form 
 
 92 
 
Against this murderous beast; 
 
 Although both night and day 
 
 Your dearest friends he slays, 
 
 To tackle him in party form 
 
 Is but a silly notion wild. 
 
 "Do nothing of the kind," they say, 
 
 "But make a regulation feast." 
 
 I dreamt old Nation passed along 
 And at the beast did look askance. 
 He said it seemed the thing was wrong, 
 Said we must give him wide expanse. 
 
 "Yes! give him room," said he, 
 "Stand back and let him crawl. 
 My coffers he doth fill 
 With money, too, you see. 
 Tho' he's dragging folks to hell. 
 He's paying for it well. 
 Be careful not to kill. 
 For the revenue is high, — 
 To burst my bag of gold 
 Will never do at all." 
 
 I dreamt the Parish Priest beheld 
 Him drag his length along, 
 And spoke right out and said, 
 "Of course, the thing is wrong; 
 
 I guess I'll have to preach 
 
 And sing this Dragon down. 
 
 This beast's not fit amongst 
 
 Us pious folks to dwell. 
 
 This Dragon looks so fierce and wild 
 
 As though he might devour my child. 
 
 I never saw a beast so bad 
 
 As he in all our town. 
 
 He drags our youngsters in 
 
 His murderous course towards hell. 
 
 "My dear sisters and brothers, 
 Let us get down and pray 
 That God may help us regulate, 
 And send him on his way. 
 
 He's not fit, abroad to roam 
 
 Without a license, my friends. 
 
 He's just a terror to the home. 
 
 He's the bloodiest beast you ever saw. 
 
 And he has taken his position 
 
 In avarice and in tradition 
 
 And in appetite and custom, 
 
 (While combines are his friends.) 
 
 Surrounded with social influence. 
 
 Political power, protected by law — 
 
 93 
 
"Yes! he's entrenched in politics — 
 But there, at him don't strike. 
 Let politics alone, my friends! 
 Do whatever else you like. 
 
 You should not vote against him, 
 
 But your ballots you can scratch. 
 
 Let primaries alone! that's what. 
 
 Conventions are no place for you. 
 
 I'll tell you what, you just wait 
 
 'Till those elected stand at Congress gate. 
 
 Yes, wait, until this fiend 
 
 A thousand other fiends shall hatch. 
 
 That's the thing, my friends, 
 
 Which you had better do. 
 
 "Let politicians tie your hands, 
 My friends, behind your back. 
 Just follow on, my friend, 
 In great Red Dragon's wake. 
 
 Yes, yes, dear Christian friends. 
 Let him have it his own way 
 'Twill but defile your hands, 
 If you should strike his head. 
 Hands off! my friends,— be brave! 
 Do naught your homes to save. 
 This dragon comes to us 
 From a very early day. 
 Our fathers bowed to him, 
 And we can't kill him dead. 
 
 "Suppose, my Christian friends, 
 No party in our land 
 Should ever make a plank, 
 On which for us to stand, 
 
 Even then we need not organize 
 
 Against this dragon foe. 
 
 That's not the way at all for you. 
 
 My friends, to tackle him. 
 
 For, dearest friends, if this you do. 
 
 This wicked world will frown on you. 
 
 You need no works, dear friends, 
 
 That you, your faith may show; 
 
 'Tis sentiment alone you need 
 
 And you should spread it thin." 
 
 Just then another preacher rose, 
 I dreamt, to say a word. 
 He seemed well pleased indeed 
 With that which he had heard. 
 
 He said, "This great Red Dragon 
 Is, indeed, a horrid beast. 
 No real Christian ever can 
 This well known fact dispute. 
 
 94 
 
This hideous monster from the sea 
 
 Is just as vile as he can be; 
 
 But we must let him on our sons 
 
 And on our brothers feast. 
 
 'Twill never do for us 
 
 To slay this horrid beast. 
 
 "You may fulminate against him, 
 But don't disturb his feast,— 
 Talk much against his sin, 
 But do not hurt the beast. 
 
 You may lecture, sing and pray, 
 
 All right now, for a fact, — 
 
 Make mouths and call him names, 
 
 But be careful you don't strike! 
 
 I'll tell you what to do,— 
 
 Let him make fools of you; 
 
 While he plays his murderous games, 
 
 Just talk,— but do not act. 
 
 Write for the Press and sign your names, 
 
 But let him do as he would like." 
 
 He said, "We must not interfere 
 With another person's right. 
 This brute we may not kill, 
 But gently with him fight. 
 
 Three large classes in our cities 
 
 Wish to have this beast, 
 
 Whose personal rights 
 
 Are dear to them, you see! 
 
 Against his deeds we'll cry 
 
 And tax the monster high. 
 
 But 'twill not do, my friend. 
 
 To interrupt their feast. 
 
 'Tis as harmless, friends, for them. 
 
 As for you to drink your tea." 
 
 Dreamt, notwithstanding all 
 Those priests and statesmen said, 
 There was a party formed 
 To kill Red Dragon dead. 
 
 I dreamt it was a party, too, 
 Which to principle will stand, 
 A child of Providence, — 
 A party that will conquer, too. 
 I dreamt that W. C. T. U. 
 Stood for this party true. 
 Strong, as a Christian sisterhood 
 Combined throughout the land. 
 With faith and courage good. 
 Both to dare, I dreamt, and do. 
 
 95 
 
Then a statesman, wise and great, 
 Whose name I dreamt was Dow 
 From Maine, the Pine Tree State, 
 Stood forth and made a vow. 
 
 There rose a voice of wailing, 
 Like Rachel for her children 
 Whom the Dragon was assailing 
 And dragging down to ruin. 
 'Twas then this great Neal Dow 
 Arose and made his vow, 
 With hands upHfted high, 
 That we must stop, somehow. 
 The work this beast was doing. 
 Yes, — vowed this beast should die. 
 
 Neal Dow has passed away; 
 Yes, he is dead and gone. 
 That's what some people say,— 
 But Neal Dow is living on. 
 In his example bright. 
 In the deeds which he has done 
 On us his light is shining. 
 With courage still inspiring 
 Us to dare to do the right, 
 And do it with our might, 
 Neal Dow's life's divining. 
 His deeds are prophesying 
 That the Dragon shall be slain. 
 This index hand from Maine 
 Points Prohibition's reign. 
 The lamp he lit is shining. 
 
 Then I dreamt that some person 
 Quite loudly did call; 
 Did shout to the watchman 
 Who stood on the wall; 
 Shouted, "Watchman! Watchman! 
 Say what of the night?" 
 Dreamt the watchmian replied, 
 "The day draweth nigh. 
 There can be no disputing. 
 For old Sol is now shooting 
 Athwart the sky his well aimed 
 Arrows so swift and so bright, 
 From his quiver, shooting up 
 Gray streaks in the sky." 
 
 The watchman's voice did sound, 
 
 So plain, distinct and clear. 
 
 Ringing loudly out 
 
 Upon the stilly air, 
 
 Like the voice of an angel 
 
 Up through the mountains pealing. 
 
 Reverberating back o'er the vale, 
 
 96 
 
And far out over the sea. 
 His words (like bugle blast 
 Distinct they came, and fast) 
 Did fill my soul with wakefulness, 
 With awe and Holy feeling. 
 Did stir me up to noble deeds 
 From lethargy did waken me. 
 
 Dreamt that when unto my chums 
 
 This dream I rose and told 
 
 Then each one courage took, — 
 
 That each one growing bold, 
 
 Took by turns his time 
 
 To tell unto the rest his dream, 
 
 Else to relate a story. 
 
 Or else to sing a song. 
 
 Thus, while we talking lay, 
 
 Beguiled the hours away. 
 
 Six hours we spent in interchange 
 
 Of thought, I dreamt did seem, 
 
 Tho some declared that never 
 
 Could have been so long. 
 
 (7) 
 
 At length a nimble ape sprang 
 From over hanging bough, it seemed, 
 He stood erect, obeisance made. 
 And told what he had dreamed. 
 
 I dreamt this beast, like Baalam's ass. 
 
 Which saved her master's life 
 
 In strains of human eloquence, 
 
 With wisdom most sublime. 
 
 Proceeded to tell in our ears 
 
 Of all his hopes and his fears. 
 
 And what he said, it seemed to me, 
 
 Tho quaint, vvas true to life. 
 
 Yet strangely it did seem. 
 
 That he should dream in rhyme. 
 
 "I dreamt," said he, "my race was free 
 From moral taint or anxious care. 
 With us no hideous Dragon beast, 
 No dramshop to ensnare. 
 
 Should such a frightful monster dare 
 
 Attack us in our wild wood home. 
 
 In our far off land, in our 
 
 Native clime and jungle. 
 
 No license would we give; 
 
 Nor even let him live, 
 
 Although we apes, like other beasts, 
 
 Are tho't to be quite dumb. 
 
 We never do things up, like you. 
 
 In such an awkward bungle. 
 
 97 
 
"But in our far off forest home, 
 As I have briefly stated, 
 I dreamt, to human race in form 
 We were somewhat related. 
 And yes, — I shuddered to think 
 That so near to the brink. 
 In our species, we apes were 
 Standing to an awful perdition, — 
 That we were the next unto you 
 When we first were created. 
 
 "I dreamt when first I saw 
 
 This slimy Dragon crawling. 
 
 Saw your rulers bowing 
 
 Before the Dragon, falling 
 
 At the Dragon's feet to worship, 
 
 Him to honor and adore, — 
 
 I dreamt I went away with shame 
 
 And tried to cover up my head. 
 
 Yes, I blushed as I dreamed 
 
 And was frightened, it seemed. 
 
 I dreamt I never felt such shame 
 
 In all my life before. 
 
 And, to tell you the truth, 
 
 I wish'd that I dwelt with the dead. 
 
 "I dreamt I marveled much 
 
 And wondered, in my dream, 
 
 Why some other species 
 
 Did not come between. 
 
 And why we noble apes 
 
 The nearest species were to men. 
 
 I dreamt that I had fears 
 
 That we, like you, might fall 
 
 From our exalted position 
 
 To your low down condition. 
 
 I dreamt that we poor apes 
 
 Upon your ruinous brink did stand. 
 
 Just one species above yours. 
 
 And dreamt that that was all." 
 
 He related thus his dream to us 
 In earnest tones, it seemed. 
 Then looking at the beast 
 And then at us, he screamed, — 
 
 "If we apes should ever into 
 Such a degradation fall; 
 Should ever let such monster 
 Upon their offspring feast," — 
 He shook and cried, "Alas! Alas! 
 If such a thing should come to pass. 
 Then apes," said he, "you know, 
 
Would have no self respect at all; 
 
 Would be discarded, too, 
 
 By every other kind of beast." 
 
 "But apes," said he, "are of a more 
 
 Exalted and a noble race, 
 
 Nor sunken down like you 
 
 In such a pit of foul disgrace; 
 
 But standing near to you 
 
 Even now, your spell doth steal, 
 
 Your demoralizing influence 
 
 On me does seem to tumble, 
 
 And I would escape 
 
 In a good moral shape. 
 
 But I stand so near you now. 
 
 My head begins to reel." 
 
 He said, and scampered away 
 
 To his own native jungle. 
 
 Quite a narrow escape, 
 I dreamed, for an ape 
 
 (Though he made it in part by fast run- 
 ning). 
 From the Beast and its den 
 So destructive of men 
 
 (But in part by his forethought and cun- 
 ning). 
 
 He glanced back as he ran, 
 
 Lest the Demon called Man 
 
 Should beguile and deceive into sinning; 
 
 Lest he drag him clear down 
 
 And deprive of his crown — 
 
 Cause his fall, like Eve, in the beginning. 
 
 Dream'd Red Dragon did roam. 
 
 Still made war on the home. 
 
 Kept devouring: the children of Christians; 
 
 Dreamed that few took a stand. 
 
 Or e'en lifted a hand. 
 
 Or offered him any resistance. 
 
 While he stampt with his feet 
 
 And their children did eat; 
 
 Still men sold him license to run. 
 
 They did this, — yet knew 
 
 What this Dragon would do, — 
 
 Did it right in the face of the Sun. 
 
 Told him their babes to devour. 
 The whole country to scour 
 While from city to city he ranges. 
 I saw more blood on their hand. 
 
 LOFC. 
 
 99 
 
Who for the Dragon do stand, 
 Than on hers who throws babe in the 
 Ganges. 
 
 For they have Christ, the true light, 
 While she's in heathenish night. 
 Supposing much wrath she appeases. 
 While those, who license the Beast 
 On these their own children to feast, 
 Are informed what their Maker's will 
 pleases. 
 
 Dreamt I heard a great cry 
 
 And I looked toward the sky; 
 
 Saw the clouds of Heaven were rifted. 
 
 'Twas the voice of true prayer, 
 
 Which had reached the Lord's ear, 
 
 Prayers the mothers of Israel had lifted 
 
 For their sons and their brothers, 
 
 For their husbands, and others. 
 
 As defenseless they cry unto God. 
 
 No other weapon have they 
 
 This cruel Dragon to slay, 
 
 Nor to avenge the innocent blood. 
 
 It brought joy to my heart 
 
 As the clouds broke apart. 
 
 For there's one thing I very well know; 
 
 Tho there's vacillating with men 
 
 (Except one, now and then), 
 
 What woman takes up, she will do. 
 
 I dreamt it was right 
 
 To give India the light. 
 
 That they mightn't to idols be falling; 
 
 Right to send men to preach 
 
 To the heathen, and teach 
 
 That they on God might be calling. 
 
 But while the gospel they send 
 
 'Tis wrong they should bend 
 
 To worship this gluttonous Dragon. 
 
 Wrong to let live at all 
 
 In their streets for to crawl. 
 
 Much less of their gains to be bragging. 
 
 How he levels their streets. 
 
 While their children he eats! 
 
 Dream'd 'twas wicked to act so like fools 
 
 As to sacrifice their sons 
 
 To grasp bloody funds, 
 
 Blood money in support of their schools. 
 
 100 
 
They fixed laws, — so instead 
 
 Of killing him dead 
 
 By pelting his head with a rail, 
 
 Folks should strike him with straws, 
 
 Feign restriction with laws, 
 
 Strike lightly with straws on his tail. 
 
 Dreamed I rose in the night 
 
 Went and turned up my light 
 
 For I wished that each person might see; 
 
 And that seeing might hate 
 
 This dragon so great. 
 
 And turn out, and fight him with me. 
 
 Dreamed I spake out and said, 
 "Wish this monster was dead!" 
 Drew them out so's to see where they 
 
 stood. 
 So of him I talked 
 While with them I walked 
 And showed them the bad from the good. 
 
 Dreamed to make this thing plain, 
 
 That I asked them again, 
 
 "Have you taken a moral position. 
 
 Or still vote that this beast 
 
 On your children shall feast, — 
 
 For the Dragon against Prohibition?" 
 
 I said, "Be honest and true, 
 
 While I press upon you 
 
 That a neutral you never can be. 
 
 For there's no inch of land. 
 
 On which you can stand, 
 
 Between these great issues, you see." 
 
 Said, "My friend and my brother, 
 
 'Tis for one or the other 
 
 Your ballot for or 'gainst you will cast. 
 
 And your action may tell 
 
 For heaven or hell 
 
 On yourself or on others, at last." 
 
 I dreamt that Satire now stood up 
 And took a human shape, it seemed 
 Each sentence like a razor cut; 
 So sharply he had dreamed. 
 
 I saw him cutting right and left 
 At those who miake the License Laws; 
 He showed how some with ballots 
 Had their fellow mortals slain. 
 I dreamt each stroke of his wit 
 Took effect where it hit. 
 
 101 
 
And dreamt that old Satire 
 
 Did weaken the enemy's cause; 
 
 Tho falsely some people declared 
 
 He lengthened the Red Dragon's reign. 
 
 For Allegory now, I dreamed, 
 The people seemed to call. 
 Who rose, and like God's angel, 
 Wrote his dream upon the wall. 
 
 I dreamed that as he wrote 
 
 Old Politicians shook with fright, 
 
 For "Mene Tekel" he did write 
 
 So plain that Bedlamites could read. 
 
 How true was the story. 
 
 Of this plain allegory! 
 
 Dreamt they shook as they read 
 
 Belshazzar was slain on that night. 
 
 For the pen of allegory had written 
 
 "Finis! Old party issues are dead." 
 
 I dreamt that a man, whose visage 
 Was wrinkled with years, 
 Reclined on his bolster and talked 
 While he shed many tears. 
 
 Dreamt they called him the Deacon, 
 
 And thus he proceeded, it seemed. 
 
 The thoughts in his head 
 
 To the rest of his chums to declare, 
 
 And his voice I shall never forget, — 
 
 It seems that I'm hearing it yet. 
 
 Said he, "My hair stood erect 
 
 On my head, while I dreamed. 
 
 So frightful my visions of beasts 
 
 From their cages turned loose, and of war. 
 
 "For in dreamland, thrice the length 
 
 Of the streets of the town 
 
 I had run, accosting the people 
 
 Who strode up and down, 
 
 Seeking some one to aid me 
 
 In stopping those evil dens. 
 
 And to slay those wild beasts - 
 
 Which run loose in the streets. 
 
 I dreamt, by our rulers, regardless of 
 
 Heaven 
 A license to open their dens had been 
 
 given 
 To turn those beasts loose, and the right 
 To open those slaughter-pens; 
 Nor could I find a soul to help 
 'Mongst^all those I did meet. 
 
 102 
 
"Frightened and wearied, I dreamt 
 
 And repulsed all the night, 
 
 Nor in dream ceased to travel 
 
 Until morning and light; 
 
 And why I kept seeking for help, 
 
 When each one I met, denied me, 
 
 Or why my courage or faith 
 
 Seemed never to falter or fail, 
 
 Or why I ceased not the strife 
 
 I couldn't tell to save my life ; 
 
 But I dreamt that somehow, I loved 
 
 Even those who did chide me. 
 
 And I dreamt that never once 
 
 In the presence of foes did I quail. 
 
 "Well I dreamt," said the Deacon, 
 "That two hosts had a fight; 
 Dreamt one army was wrong, 
 While the other was right. 
 
 Dreamt I wrote of their war 
 
 And their order of battle 
 
 Of their bulwarks and Generals 
 
 Which took lead in the strife; 
 
 Made a note of such men 
 
 As stood up for the den. 
 
 How they drove to the pen 
 
 Our people like cattle. 
 
 And how by means of those dens. 
 
 Ten-thousands were ruined for life." 
 
 Then I dreamt that Gossip arose 
 And pulled at the yarn he had spun. 
 I dreamt that this gossip declared 
 That he would unravel for fun. 
 
 He laughed as he talked 
 
 And provoked all the rest to a smile. 
 
 "It's a story, I tell you," said he, 
 
 " 'Tis never a dream which I tell." 
 
 Dreamt he lifted his eyes. 
 
 With his face toward the skies, 
 
 And proceeded to talk. 
 
 And to spin out his yarn for a mile; 
 
 Then he said it was true. 
 
 And is not the least bit of a sell. 
 
 Dreamt a Minstrel then arose 
 
 Which we had brought along; 
 
 Said he'd no dream or story, 
 
 But might sing for us a song. 
 
 So when he had concluded. 
 
 Their hats the people swing. 
 
 And shouted "That's a good one," 
 
 And, "Another you must sing!" 
 
 103 
 
So he sang for us another, 
 
 While the drummer boy, his brother, 
 
 On his instrument kept tapping 
 
 Very gently as he sang. 
 
 And they made such lovely music 
 
 That it all the woods did ring. 
 
 Then they shouted for a third one, 
 And I dreamt the minstrel said 
 That he still would try to sing it, 
 If the drummer boy would lead; 
 
 And its title was, "Job's Turkey — 
 What made the fowl so thin." 
 Dreamt the minstrel sang so sweetly 
 All were pleased to hear 
 While the boy with his drum, 
 Beat his tump-te-tump-tum. 
 Dreamt Armageddon's captains 
 Declared it was a sin, 
 For so loudly rang their music 
 That it sounded far and near. 
 
 Dreamed that many a song they sang. 
 
 At length they sung a ditty 
 
 Which made the Deacon laugh. 
 
 For 'twas harmless though 'twas v/itty. 
 
 Then being in good spirits, 
 I dreamt we joined the fight. 
 Dreamt we made a glorious conquest. 
 For we never know defeat. 
 Dreamt Armageddon's host 
 Rose up and made their boast. 
 Dreamt we left it out to Judges 
 To say which was in the right. 
 Dreamt the Judges then decided 
 That, in fairness, we had beat. 
 
 Dreamt Armageddon's generals 
 Did of their numbers beast; 
 And our captains bade the drummer 
 To muster in our host. 
 
 I dreamt we went recruiting 
 For our ranks throughout the land. 
 Dreamt that many thousands joined us 
 Out from Armageddon's ranks. 
 Dreamt I heard them shout "Hosanna!' 
 As they marched beneath our banner, 
 While the hosts of Armageddon 
 Scowled at us and called us cranks. 
 Dreamt we still kept on recruiting 
 And enlarging still our ranks. 
 
 104 
 
Since our principles are right, 
 And since our cause is good, 
 Since we're walking in the light 
 We shall have the help of God. 
 While we seek to slay this Dragon, 
 Or to bind him with a chain, 
 As we call it, "Legal Suasion," 
 Meaning really, "Prohibition." 
 For 'twill never do at all 
 To let this Dragon crawl. 
 We will stop his bloody reign. 
 We'll repel the beast's invasion. 
 
 With all our might and m.ain. 
 We'll bind his hands and feet 
 By Prohibition's chain. 
 Nor have him on our street. 
 
 AFTER NARROW ESCAPE 
 
 They say there's a stream 
 
 Of rhyme, in my dream. 
 
 And they're asking me where I do find it. 
 
 Well, friends, I've a mill 
 
 On the top of a hill. 
 
 And 'tis there that I spin it and wind it. 
 
 Circumstantially running 
 
 My yarn it keeps spinning 
 
 And I'll now tell you how I do tend it. 
 
 I stuff news in my mill 
 
 Till the hopper I f^ll 
 
 Then turn on the stream till I grind it. 
 
 But a crank, and a fool. 
 
 Of this yarn I've a spool 
 
 And a mental machine to unwind it. 
 
 I then thump at the spout. 
 
 Till the rhyme gushes out. 
 
 There's no trouble at all, then, to find it. 
 
 Should you climb up this hill 
 
 And come to my mill, 
 
 'Tis easy enough for to reach it. 
 
 You just stand by the spout 
 
 Till the verses come out. 
 
 Then hold your sack open and catch it. 
 
 The events of the times 
 
 Serves to force out the rhymes 
 
 Which the stream is constantly running, 
 
 So swift and so strong, 
 
 Shoving pencil along 
 
 So crooked-like, and so cunning. 
 
 105 
 
To lay all to me, 
 
 Isn't fair don't you see. 
 
 To judge people harshly is sinning. 
 
 Tho 'twas spun in my mill 
 
 On the top of the hill, 
 
 'Twas the stream of events kept it running. 
 
 My dream brings to view 
 
 The events unto you 
 
 So plain, that he never can doubt it. 
 
 'Twas the force of the times 
 
 Which brought out the ryhmes, — 
 
 If you're posted, you'd know all about it. 
 
 'Twas the force of this stream 
 
 Which compelled me to dream, — 
 
 Which brought all the visions I saw; 
 
 So I'd nothing to do, 
 
 But to let it run through 
 
 In my mill, by a natural law. 
 
 Not at all I'm to blame, — 
 
 'Twould have been just the same, 
 
 I nothing have changed by my dream. 
 
 'Ere I dreamed this at all 
 
 Red Dragon did crawl, 
 
 And devoured people, too, it did seem. 
 
 The high "License Laws" 
 
 Were the principal cause 
 
 For 'tis sure that I never had sought it. 
 
 'Twas the facts which have bred 
 
 These dreams in my head; 
 
 I made not the hist'ry, but wrote it. 
 
 So my conscience is clear. 
 
 And without any fear 
 
 Of blame for writing these rhythmical 
 
 songs. 
 For I never can see 
 How I ever can be 
 Blamed for recording historical wrongs. 
 
 106 
 
DENS OF DEATH. 
 
 One evening I my Bible took, 
 
 Sought light and comfort from that book, 
 
 I let it open where it would 
 'Mong visions of the prophets old 
 Which they to ancient people told; 
 
 Some frightful ones and some quite good. 
 
 Read visions of the morning star. 
 The Christ, whose glory shone afar. 
 
 The waters of salvation, too. 
 Which doth us cleanse and quench our thirst, 
 Of course these things I pondered first. 
 
 This river deepened in my view. 
 
 Two baskets saw of summer fruit, 
 One kind was good, my taste did suit. 
 
 But t'other basketful was bad. 
 The first was plucked from life's fair tree. 
 Did comfort much and strengthen me; 
 
 But naughty kind did m.ake me sad: 
 
 It seemed the voice of God I heard, 
 And as I read my soul was stirred 
 
 My time and talent to improve. 
 I saw that time was on the wing, 
 That God would into judgment bring 
 
 And none be saved but such as love. 
 
 Then Daniel's visions next I read. 
 What he about wild beasts had said. 
 
 Four frightful beasts to him were shown. 
 The names of three he gave us were 
 A Lion, Leopard and a Bear, 
 
 The fourth, a beast with name unknown. 
 
 One beast, the second; like a Bear, 
 Raised up a little in its lair; 
 
 Three ribs between its teeth were seen. 
 These words were spoke by men in power, 
 "Arise! Much human flesh devour." 
 
 I wondered what these words did mean. 
 
 I wondered much about this beast, 
 Why it on human flesh did feast; 
 
 Why men in povv^er should set it on. 
 Why, after he'd no -power to slay. 
 Dominion all was tak'n away, 
 
 Why they should Bruin's life prolong? 
 
 107 
 
Now when I had these visions read, 
 'Twas late, and so I went to bed. 
 
 Musing of beasts I fell asleep. 
 And in my dream was near a den; 
 Some beasts came forth and ruined men 
 
 In open sight, which made me weep. 
 
 Frightened, I then ran up a street, 
 But everywhere with beasts did meet. 
 
 On every corner Upas trees 
 And dens of death did meet my gaze. 
 I wandered on in sad surprise 
 
 To see such fearful sights as these. 
 
 At length in passing near a den 
 Where lay some mangled forms of men 
 
 Beneath some Upas trees I saw 
 Denkeeper in a mighty rage. 
 And cursing this Progressive Age; 
 
 And those who keep God's Holy Laws. 
 
 He spake with lofty words and great. 
 He had the Sabbath 'neath his feet. 
 
 His hands were stained with human blood. 
 He sneered and mocked at human pain 
 And all restraint he did disdain 
 
 And cast aside the fear of God. 
 
 I saw his beasts abroad did roam. 
 
 Saw mothers weep, heard sisters moan. 
 
 I saw whole households in distress, 
 Saw orphans' faces bathed in tears. 
 Heard widows sigh with grief of years. 
 
 But saw no human hand to bless. 
 
 I asked the cause of all this woe. 
 
 The reason why these tears did flow; 
 
 And why this human grief and pain. 
 Why all these beasts abroad did roam, 
 And carry grief to every home; 
 
 What right Denkeeper had to reign. 
 
 The answer came in brief, to me. 
 "These beasts and dens and Upas tree 
 
 Are wrongs m.ade right by bribery! 
 This sorrow, grief, this woe and pain. 
 The misery of Denkeeper's reign 
 
 Are only personal liberty." 
 
 This answer did not give me rest, 
 'Twas contradicted in my breast; 
 
 My reason said it cannot be. 
 This business all is so unfair; 
 Brings so much darkness and despair, 
 
 It is not personal liberty. 
 
 108 
 
Such interest in this thing had I, 
 It seemed to travel far and nigh. 
 
 I wished to obtain the truth, you see. 
 So roamed abroad from town to town, 
 And tossed this question up and down; 
 
 I said, "What can the matter be?" 
 
 I traveled on from street to street, 
 And asked the people I did meet. 
 
 This mystery to explain to me; 
 They said the question was quite tame, 
 Said it had always been the same; 
 
 'Twas only personal liberty. 
 
 I said, "I'll get me to the great. 
 My tale of sorrow to relate, 
 
 And hear what they will answer me." 
 And so I came to "Party Press," 
 And told him all the sore distress. 
 
 He said, " 'Tis personal liberty." 
 
 I said to him with many tears, 
 
 "These beasts have troubled us for years; 
 
 Help us these cruel beasts to slay. 
 And as you're able, sir, I see. 
 Help us to fell this Upas tree. 
 
 And stop this work of death, I pray." 
 
 "These beasts and dens and Upas tree 
 Are not an issue now," said he; 
 
 "Two 'yaller dogs' are in a fight, 
 We'll make an issue out of these. 
 And give a license to the beast; 
 
 See, first, which yaller dog is right." 
 
 I showed him half a million m.en, 
 Employed about old bruin's den, 
 
 Engaged in m.aking misery; 
 He bade me leave alone the beast, 
 And let it on the people feast; 
 
 Said that was "personal- liberty." 
 
 "You've local option, then," said he, 
 "Strike that against the Upas tree 
 
 And it with all the beasts will die." 
 I took the counsel he did give. 
 But still the trees and beasts did live, 
 
 So Party Press told me a lie. 
 
 "Take moral suasion, then," he said, 
 "If you would have the beasts all dead." 
 
 I said, "Their death's what I demand." 
 So took this stuff and poured it on 
 Till late at night from early dawn, 
 
 But beasts did live and Upas stand. 
 
 109 
 
"Go home," said he, "and tax the beast. 
 And make for it a constant feast 
 
 Of sweetened regulation." 
 I dreamed 'twas tried a hundred years. 
 But still this tide of blood and tears 
 
 Flowed on to curse our nation. 
 
 To "License Party" next I came. 
 And told her in the people's name 
 
 What sore distress had we. 
 I showed to her the streams of woe 
 Denkeeper's beasts had caused to flow, 
 
 And what a cruel man was he. 
 
 Miss License Party understood. 
 
 This vampire lived on tears and blood; 
 
 She said, "He's just the man for me, 
 I like Denkeeper m^ighty well; 
 I've voted him the right to kill. 
 
 And he has 'personal* liberty.' 
 
 "You must not think at all that I 
 Can cause my own beloved to die; 
 
 What! slay Denkeeper? Never! 
 While I'm a partner in his guilt; 
 A sharer in the blood he's split. 
 
 He and I are one forever." 
 
 A giant hero then drew nigh, 
 Whose name is called Vox PopuU. 
 
 Fervent I pleaded with him and long. 
 At length he said he'd slay this beast 
 Which on his progeny did feast. 
 
 But that would serve his party wrong. 
 
 Political just then passed by, 
 To him for help I quick did fly; 
 
 He looked at me, so big and strong, 
 He said I looked so weak and slim, 
 He shouldn't think I'd come to him, 
 
 Said, "To my party I belong." 
 
 He talked in overbearing strain, 
 Said all our labors were in vain. 
 
 His tongue ran on quite glib with me. 
 He called us all a set of cranks, 
 And owed us neither votes nor thanks 
 
 For fighting Bruin's liberty. 
 
 I showed my craw, chuck full of sand, 
 And told him how I'd taken my stand, 
 
 Against Denkeeper and his deeds. 
 He said my cause and grit were good, 
 But thought it better if I could 
 
 Keep my own garden clear of weeds. 
 
 110 
 
He gave his shoulders then a shrug, 
 Then bulged beneath his coat a jug; 
 
 He blushed and asked the time of day. 
 Quite late, he said, it sure must be, 
 Was glad that he had met with me, 
 
 "Adieu," said he, then went his way. 
 
 Old Husbandry I then did meet, 
 With corn to market on the street. 
 
 And asked if he would help us slay 
 Those beasts so cruel to our boys. 
 Which darkens home and damps it joys. 
 
 And help us drive this curse away. 
 
 At first he said 'twould suit his mind. 
 And talked as though he was inclined 
 
 To help us stop old Bruin's den. 
 But feared he could not sell his rye, 
 And that was just the reason why 
 
 He would not join and help us then. 
 
 Municipal I then did meet. 
 Made supplication at his feet; 
 
 He called us all a set of fools.. 
 Asked how we could- expenses meet. 
 Pay the police or clean the streets. 
 
 Or how could we support the schools? 
 
 A man of Genius then drew near. 
 His eye was quick, his head was clear; 
 
 Invention was the fellow's name. 
 I asked him if he could contrive 
 A way to save our boys alive; 
 
 Invent some plan to stop this den. 
 
 He said he really had a doubt. 
 Though he should get a patent out. 
 
 If he his patent right could sell. 
 He said he did not understand 
 That there was very great demand. 
 
 And feared it would not work so well. 
 
 But had contrived through slaughter pen 
 To ruin many million men 
 
 By turning Bruin out to ream. 
 I dreamed he had the fatal art 
 Of breaking fondest parents' hearts. 
 
 But had not skill to save the home. 
 
 Judicial then popped up his head. 
 With brazen impudence he said: 
 
 "You can't prohibit, sure's a gun, 
 Bruin is licensed now to roam. 
 To slay the people, spoil the home; 
 
 You can't prohibit; he must run." 
 
 Ill 
 
Then Legal, too, did join the song, 
 "You never can, though you are strong. 
 
 This beast is now so fierce and wild; 
 So long this varmint has run loose. 
 To try to stop him is no use. 
 
 Just let him slay and eat your child. 
 
 "If I should help to save the home. 
 And never let old Bruin roam, 
 
 Should stop his den and chop this tree, 
 No clients then to me would come. 
 And I might sit and suck my thumb 
 
 For breakfast, dinner and for tea. 
 
 "No bunged up eyes, no broken bones. 
 No law suits then 'twixt Smith and Jones, 
 
 No litigations would there be. 
 No contests in the neighborhood, 
 The people would behave so good, 
 
 No ten-cent strife case then for me." 
 
 I met Police upon the street. 
 
 And told him how those beasts did eat— 
 
 Did chew up our posterity; 
 To slay those beasts, he <iuickly said, 
 Would peel the butter from his bread. 
 
 And spoil Denkeeper's liberty. 
 
 He watched those beasts both day and night. 
 But never dared with them to fight. 
 
 'Twas part of our menagerie. 
 His party 'twas, without a doubt, 
 A license gave and turned them out, 
 
 And gave them personal liberty. 
 
 Thus he Denkeeper's acts excused. 
 He said his calling was abused. 
 
 Said he had always paid his fee. 
 That honestly he'd bought the right 
 To let his beasts run day and night — 
 
 Bought Bruin's personal liberty. 
 
 Then Oriental crossed the street. 
 I ran this ancient sage to greet; 
 
 He said those beasts need I not fear. 
 "Kind sir," said he, "take no alarm. 
 For surely there can come no harm 
 
 From Bruin's dens or drinking beer." 
 
 He turned away and shook his head, 
 "These cranks are much too nice," he said; 
 
 "At least it looks that way to me. 
 In Orient, where beasts run loose, 
 I've scarcely known them slay a goose. 
 
 Go, crank! you'll get no help from me." 
 
 112 
 
Old Medical I then did meet, 
 Puffing and panting down the street. 
 
 I pointed out and made him see 
 Old Bruin's teeth and open jaws, 
 And how his keepers broke the laws, 
 
 Showed horrid dens and Upas tree. 
 
 He said, "If we these dens should stop, 
 These beasts should slay, this Upas chop, 
 
 'Twould almost spoil my trade, you see!" 
 Said folks would be so nice and neat, 
 So careful what they drink and eat, 
 
 So temperate all mankind would be; 
 
 "So sober and so orderly, 
 
 They'd bring no broken bones to me, 
 
 None out of joint for me to set. 
 Do you 'spose I'd stand in my own light, 
 Against my personal interest fight? 
 
 I'll never slay those beasts, you bet. 
 
 "Besides all this," the Doctor said, 
 
 "If all those beasts were slain and dead. 
 
 Such fierce disease would fill the land, 
 Such sickness would their death entail, 
 And epidemics v/ould prevail; 
 
 No constitution that could stand." 
 
 Now Pedagogue came sauntering by, 
 Was scanning me with searching eye; 
 
 It hap't that beasts had torn his son. 
 I said, "I'm just in luck today, 
 I've found a man those beasts to slay." 
 
 He said, " 'Tis what can ne'er be done." 
 
 He'd studied many a learned book, 
 Did often at this subject look; 
 
 Said Bruin had such high position, 
 The best that we could do at all. 
 Make Bruin into corners crawl; 
 
 This we might do by high taxation. 
 
 Then Mercantile drew near me next. 
 Just as I read my morning text. 
 
 'Twas what the ancient preachers said, 
 "Whate'er thy hands shall find to do. 
 That labor with thy might pursue." 
 
 He asked if he must raise the dead. 
 
 He knew a better text, he said: 
 "Am I my brother's keeper?" read. 
 
 Said that just, hit him on the head. 
 The clim.ax of his subject reached, 
 'Twas when he practiced what he preached; 
 
 His brother by his vote lay dead. 
 
 113 
 
 (8) 
 
Just then Poetical passed by, 
 With funny twinkle in his eye. 
 
 I spoke to him about the den, 
 Then asked him whither way he went. 
 And asked him if he would consent 
 
 To punch old Bruin with his pen. 
 
 He said he'd like with me to join, 
 But said he really had not time. 
 
 Said he was busy day and night 
 In telling how the bluebird sings. 
 How butterflies do flap their wings, 
 
 And how old Sol did flame with light. 
 
 Describing insects' gauzy wings. 
 
 And how the cricket chirps and sings. 
 
 In short, of birds, of bees, of flowers, 
 Of mountains always capped with snow, 
 And sunny vales which lie below; 
 
 Of gurgling streams and shady bowers; 
 
 Could lyrics sing of heroes great, 
 And praise the men who rule the state, 
 
 Could picture Convent spire and dome, 
 Could paint in verse the sunset skies, 
 Tell how the lonely screech owl cries, 
 
 But had no verse to save the home. 
 
 As Scientific passed me by, 
 
 I asked him if he would not try, 
 
 For love of God, to stop this den. 
 He said, to him 'twas little odds, 
 As he regarded not the Gods; 
 
 Was wiser, too, than other men. 
 
 I said, "Great sir, since we are fools. 
 Come let us have you in our schools; 
 
 Your wisdom will our lack supply. 
 Said he, "You know the statute laws 
 Are made to favor Bruin's cause. 
 
 Me in the schools! those beasts must die." 
 
 "Hold on," said he, "my time I'll take, 
 Once in the schools my mark I'll make, 
 
 Whene'er I come, I'll come to stay; 
 Have patience with me till the laws 
 Permit, and then I'll aid your cause; 
 
 Those dens I'll stop, those beasts I'll slay. 
 
 "Our statesmen, you know well," said he, 
 "Dote much on Personal Liberty; 
 
 That's what they call the horrid den." 
 I dreamed he said that Legislate 
 For catching votes used much deceit, 
 
 And stopped his ears 'gainst honest men. 
 
 114 
 
I then saw Caucus in his seat, 
 
 And, weeping, threw me at his feet; 
 
 Prayed him to fell the Upas tree. 
 "I will," said he, "as soon as ever 
 Two Easter Sundays come together; 
 
 Till then 'tis personal liberty." 
 
 "Oh! sir," said I, "it is not fair 
 To feed our offspring to the bear. 
 
 Help slay these beasts and chop this tree." 
 He said 'twould m.ake old Brewery bolt, 
 And give his party, too, a jolt, 
 
 And shake the Ark of liberty. 
 
 Just then Convention came along. 
 And gathered round him quite a throng 
 
 Of men, a m.otley looking crew. 
 I dreamed, in virgin form complete 
 I threw me at Convention's feet, 
 
 "A favor," said, "I wish of you." 
 
 He shut his eyes and stopped his ears, 
 Though I entreated him with tears, 
 
 He vowed he would not hear my plea 
 Against the beast and for the home. 
 Said, "We must let old Bruin roam, 
 
 Must give him personal liberty." 
 
 Some Pirates then before him stood. 
 With hands agore with human blood. 
 
 For dens and beasts they made their plea. 
 Convention at their feet fell down; 
 Before these pirates cast his crown, 
 
 And gave them personal liberty. 
 
 He said he liked to hear them talk, 
 Invited them with him to walk. 
 
 Said he enjoyed their company. 
 He then sat down with them to feast, 
 Gulped their viands, hugged their beast, 
 
 And called it personal liberty. 
 
 Just then I met with Clericus, 
 And told him what a fearful muss 
 
 Denkeeper's cruel beasts had made; 
 And what did Mr. Cler'cus do. 
 But up and split himself in two. 
 
 I dreamed it almost killed him dead. 
 
 One-half with Prohibition stood, 
 But t'other wallowed in his blood. 
 
 With License Party, on the ground. 
 Hearing the council of the two. 
 The people knew not what to do, 
 
 For trumpet gave uncertain sound. 
 
 115 
 
One-half of him was very good, 
 That which with Prohibition stood, 
 
 And worked for him with all his might. 
 He said he never had a doubt 
 But we should cast Denkeeper out 
 
 When sentiment is formed aright. 
 
 He's helping Prohibition rise, 
 
 Is bringing sunshine to the skies. 
 
 This half doth on his pray'r-bones stand. 
 Is to his post of duty true, 
 And knows both how to dare and do. 
 
 And he's a blessing to our land. 
 
 He says he's sure he had a call 
 To chop and make the Upas fall. 
 
 He's found the gospel ax, you see. 
 Where Prophets left it at the root 
 Of every tree with evil fruit; 
 
 He prays and chops to fell this tree. 
 
 The half with License Party joined 
 Was next to trump abroad his mind, 
 
 Was next to give us his advice. 
 He said, "If you these beasts would slay, 
 And drive this Upas curse away, 
 
 You've naught to do but raise the price. 
 
 "A thousand dollars, then," he said. 
 Would almost kill the varmints dead; 
 
 The big rich devils first we'll take. 
 And taxing them they'll grow so stout 
 They'll drive the little devils out; 
 
 Monopolies of them we'll make." 
 
 This faithless half of Clericus 
 
 Did serve to make Denkeeper worse; 
 
 And help to prop the Upas tree. 
 On every Christian Sabbath day 
 His voice did chime with those who say 
 
 These dens are personal liberty. 
 
 I said, "I'll go to Legislate, 
 
 For he's the man the laws doth make, 
 
 And he'll explain it all to me." 
 "The people have their rights," said he, 
 "We must not cripple industry; 
 
 JTis only personal liberty." 
 
 I did not think that Legislate 
 Would answer me with such deceit, 
 
 For great and honorable was he; 
 When all the facts to him were plain 
 That thousands by the beasts were slain, 
 
 He said 'twas personal liberty. 
 
 116 
 
With much contempt my cause he spurned. 
 To those who keep the beasts he turned; 
 
 Said he could slay them in a trice; 
 "But if you wish those beasts may roam, 
 And desecrate each Christian home; 
 
 Then you must pay a bigger price. 
 
 "These Christians see and feel this blight. 
 Oh! 'Where's My Wandering Boy Tonight?' 
 
 How many anxious mothers cry, 
 And fathers, too, with withered joys 
 Are asking for their ruined boys. 
 
 While sisters look with pleading eye. 
 
 "They ask of me those dens to stop. 
 From Upas to remove my prop, 
 
 I've told you once, now tell you twice, 
 You may this butchery carry on. 
 Let Bruin tread the people down, 
 
 But you must pay a bigger price. 
 
 "Now I will tinker up the laws 
 To favor your unrighteous cause, 
 
 I'll stop my ears to every plea 
 The people make against the beast. 
 Which spoils our homes from west to east, 
 
 Five hundred dollars is the fee." 
 
 Just then I met with Mr. State, 
 A man of fame and stature great. 
 
 I placed before him all our woes. 
 Denkeeper's meanness I portrayed; 
 What havoc he 'mongst people made. 
 
 How he led statesmen by the nose. 
 
 He said he would espouse my cause. 
 But hated Sumptuary Laws. 
 
 He said, of course, the thing was wrong; 
 Denkeeper's doings were unfair. 
 Enough to make a preacher swear. 
 
 Said, "I can't help it; he's so strong." 
 
 I said to State, "You look to me 
 Ten times as big and stout as he. 
 
 Such strength our woes should mitigate." 
 Told him I heard the people say, 
 "Where there's a will, there is a way." 
 
 I dreamed I heard no more from State. 
 
 Old Nation I espied just then. 
 Hugging the Beast, guarding its den. 
 
 In vain I tried to catch his eye. 
 Before his face in tears did fall; 
 In prayer against dens I loud did call. 
 
 But all my suit he did deny. 
 
 117 
 
"The people have some rights," said he, 
 "They've not surrendered up to me. 
 
 The law's explicit, too, you see; 
 For it is now quite plain and clear 
 The rights the people hold so dear 
 
 Are old Denkeeper's liberty." 
 
 Our Uncle Sam I then did see, 
 And ran and climbed upon his knee. 
 
 Then showed him Bruin in his den. 
 I stroked his beard, then, pleading, said, 
 "Uncle, I wish those beasts were dead. 
 
 They slay so many boys and men." 
 
 This Uncle at my tears did laugh, 
 He said I was a sniveling calf. 
 
 Said he would never stop this den. 
 Said he had other fish to fry, 
 A finger in some better pie; 
 
 He spanked and put me down just then. 
 
 Then Mr. White House passed me by, 
 In a balloon was sailing high. 
 
 His lofty eyelids I did see. 
 I showed him Bruin in his den. 
 Showed skeletons of a million men; 
 
 But White House never noticed me. 
 
 But as he passed me in the air, 
 And took no notice of my prayer; 
 
 I heard him say just this, I think: 
 " 'Tis personal liberty I seek." 
 Then, louder still, I heard him speak, 
 
 "I sail though every ship should sink." 
 
 Although his head was in a cloud, 
 I heard him whisper clear and loud, 
 
 "There's nothing due from me to cranks." 
 'Twas personal rights that placed me here, 
 Those rights Denkeeper holds so dear. 
 
 To civil rights I owe no thanks." 
 
 As White House passed me on the wing, 
 There dangled from his nose a string, 
 
 Like a boy that's playing with his kite; 
 I saw two strapping men lay hold. 
 And pull upon this string of gold; 
 
 They ran and pulled with all their might. 
 
 As they were playing at their games, 
 I asked about and wrote their names; 
 
 And why they pulled on White House's nose. 
 Plutocracy, the story ran. 
 And Lob, his brat and hired man. 
 
 Lead White House everywhere he goes. 
 
 118 
 
What's the little crank a-doing? 
 Coaxing me to stay old Bruin? 
 That's <what your uncle ^ivill not do, 
 Fm keeping him for re<venue. 
 
 119 
 
"Well, now," thinks I, "as they're so strong 
 Perhaps they'll help my cause along; 
 
 They're big enough to stop this den." 
 Plut winked at Lob, then looked at me, 
 And said, "He's fighting liberty." 
 
 I dreamed they skip't, those silly men. 
 
 I dreamed I saw two men quite old. 
 Each hugged a pondrous bag of gold. 
 
 As White House sailed, they ran before. 
 I dream.ed they did a wicked thing, 
 By helping others pull the string; 
 
 They trampled down and killed the poor; 
 
 Helped Plut and Lob to play their games, 
 London and Wall Street were their names; 
 
 I dreamed they went from bad to worse. 
 While after them for help I cried, 
 They ran along by highway side. 
 
 At me did rave, throw stones and curse. 
 
 It beat me and my wife's relation 
 
 To think such men should rule the nation; 
 
 To think that White House should be sold. 
 Dream't 'twas a wondrous shame and pity 
 To turn those beasts loose in the city, 
 
 Just for a buckskin bag of gold. 
 
 I dreamed I to those men did speak, 
 And told them that I was too v.-eak 
 
 To slay this beast which threatened me; 
 I asked them if they would unite 
 With me against this beast to fight. 
 
 They naid, "That's personal liberty." 
 
 Monopoly I then did meet, 
 
 Who kicked me clean into the street; 
 
 Said I'd no business on the walk. 
 I tried to stir this fellow's soul. 
 To slay or else those beasts control, 
 
 But he refused with me to talk. 
 
 When of his conduct I do think, 
 My heart seems in my boots to sink, 
 
 For he did wound and cripple me; 
 Godfather to the beast became. 
 Called it by pet and harmless names. 
 
 Said it was "personal liberty." 
 
 Old Combine then I met, and Trust, 
 Bathing their souls in filth and dust; 
 
 No conscience had those m^en, I dream'd. 
 Though beasts, which they'd turned out to 
 
 roam, 
 Entered and despoiled their home. 
 
 And, although Combine's women screamed, 
 
 120 
 
They laughed and said, "No harm could be 
 In granting Bruin's liberty." 
 
 I heard them giggle then and curse; 
 I dreamed I sued those pompous men 
 For help to stop this horrid den. 
 
 Dreamed each one shook at me his purse. 
 
 Thus, while those beasts so fierce and wild, 
 Entered their home, devoured their child, 
 
 With brazen face they stared at me. 
 Said I'd no business in the world. 
 Then stones of wrath at me they hurled, 
 
 For fighting "personal liberty." 
 
 It seemed that in my revery 
 I took a million men with m.e 
 
 And went with them myself to see 
 Our Goverment and to complain 
 Of old Denkeeper's vicious reign. 
 
 She said 'twas personal liberty. 
 
 I made my million bow the knee 
 In prayer to her, to set us free 
 
 From all this wrong and tyranny. 
 She said to stop this evil reign 
 Would give her constitution pain 
 
 And wound her personal liberty. 
 
 We had her next beneath the hill. 
 Where she could see Denkeeper's mill, 
 
 And hear it grinding misery. 
 She heard Denkeeper thump the spout. 
 And saw the blood and tears come out; 
 
 Still called it "personal liberty." 
 
 We said 'twas from the people we 
 Were sent to her to make our plea, 
 
 For home and civil liberty. 
 And then I led her, in my dream. 
 Close by the brink of misery's stream. 
 
 She said 'twas "personal liberty." 
 
 She stood, both feet in sinking sand, 
 A bag of revenue in hand, 
 
 "Ninety per cent to us," said she, 
 "Is paid for making misery; 
 The people must not ask of me 
 
 To aid their civil liberty." 
 
 We prayed her in the name of God, 
 
 To cleanse her hands from human blood, 
 
 And aid our civil liberty. 
 She said she'd set Denkeeper on, 
 Shared ninety parts in all he'd done 
 
 For his own personal liberty. 
 
 121 
 
We told her that to us 'twas clear 
 The people's rights were just as dear 
 
 As old Denkeeper's rights could be; 
 She said (still standing in the sand), 
 She'd like to have us understand 
 
 She stood for personal liberty. 
 
 We then went o'er and made a call 
 On Mr. Congress, in his hall, 
 
 I and my million bowed the knee; 
 Said, "Mr. Congress, if you please, 
 We're by the people sent to thee 
 
 To make for them our humble plea. 
 
 "Some evil one," continued we, 
 "Who has a large menagerie. 
 
 Has turned it loose on us to prey; 
 The beasts thus roaming o'er the plain 
 Have thousands of the people slain. 
 
 Great sir, will you not stop them, pray?" 
 
 Said Congress: "You have come too soon; 
 The sign's not right now in the moon. 
 
 'Tis no use trying now," said he. 
 We showed to him those streams of woe 
 Denkeeper's beasts did cause to flow; 
 
 He said, "That's personal liberty." 
 
 My million and myself did fall 
 More lowly at his feet and crawl 
 
 In all humility. "Sir," said we, 
 "Millions of households now are grieved, 
 And pray to thee to be relieved 
 
 From evil beasts, you see. 
 
 "Hundreds of factories stand still. 
 Because Denkeeper runs his mill, 
 
 And idle men bring home no bread, 
 And beasts of hunger on them tread." 
 " 'Tis over production," then he said, 
 
 "Which makes the children cry for bread. 
 
 "The land so well you must not till. 
 Nor plant so many grains in hill; 
 
 Now, that's a solid fact," said he. 
 " 'Tis not the beasts, nor yet the mill, 
 Which does so many people kill; 
 
 'Tis overproduction, plain to see. 
 
 "'Tis not the dens of death," he said, 
 "Nor beasts, nor fatal Upas shade. 
 
 For these are personal liberty. 
 Now get you to your tasks," said he, 
 "For you are idle tramps, I see. 
 
 At war with personal liberty." 
 
 122 
 
We, being from his presence spurned, 
 In disappointment from him turned. 
 
 For we were now in sore dismay; 
 Seeing the frown upon his face. 
 We felt we iDere in evil case. 
 
 I dreamed that it was almost day. 
 
 Then dreamed that we a banner found. 
 Saw many soldiers mustering 'round. 
 
 And each one had his armor on. 
 I saw them m.arch with even pace. 
 And setting like a flint their face, 
 
 And said, "Whom make ye war upon?" 
 
 They pointed to Denkeeper's mill, 
 To dens of death and beasts that kill. 
 
 Then heard I plainly in my dream 
 The captains of this army shout; 
 Saw License Party put to rout. 
 
 And heard Denkeeper's woman scream. 
 
 Saw many axmen gather 'round. 
 To fell the Upas to the ground. 
 
 Then saw their royal banner wave; 
 'Gainst wrong this army took its stand; 
 Of dens they vowed to rid the land. 
 
 And dig old License Party's grave. 
 
 Then came Free Rum, that man of sin. 
 With armies vast to hem them in. 
 
 Rummaker, hearing of the fight, 
 Came forth with all his force of men. 
 And Licensed Party, leading them. 
 
 To fight and war against the right. 
 
 Then next in order Brewery came. 
 With all his hosts, a million men; 
 
 Convention skirmished front and rear. 
 Vox Populi had also come, 
 And Mr. Caucus played the drum; 
 
 Then Legislate himself drew near. 
 
 He threw around Denkeeper's cause 
 The strong protection of the laws; 
 
 For him took firm position. 
 Now Bloody Fingers took the sword, 
 Boosers and sots a numerous horde. 
 
 Against our youngster. Prohibition. 
 
 Among those numerous fighting hosts 
 Still-slops and Brewery numbered most; 
 
 Yet Drunk would not be left in lurch; 
 His regiment the topers joined. 
 With Moderation close behind; 
 
 While jailbirds on their banner perch. 
 
 123 
 
Then Lewd played harlot in the camp, 
 While Tipple, Loafer, Dude and Tramp, 
 
 Guzzle and Stagger joined the war; 
 All these 'gainst Prohibition stood, 
 And fought the cause they owned was good; 
 
 They stopped their ears, threw dust in air. 
 
 All these did form an evil crew, 
 Time-server, Truckle, Intrigue, too; 
 
 Yet one was worse than all the rest, 
 The one who most discouraged us, 
 'Twas Judas, half of Clericus; 
 
 He lugged with him his "Tetzel's chest." 
 
 He ran with those who peddle sin, 
 His vote made money jingle in. 
 
 He fought and warred the price to raise. 
 To Brewery's host he gave his hand, 
 'Cause they were numerous in the land; 
 
 I dreamed this half which fell from grace 
 
 To Prohibition came by night 
 
 And kissed him — said his cause was right; 
 
 Then him and his cause betrayed, — 
 For Prohibition made his boast 
 But joined old Sot's and Boozer's host. 
 
 And with him common cause he made. 
 
 To worry Prohibition's band 
 Half of Clergy took his stand 
 
 For dens and beasts and Upas tree; 
 Then he with hosts of hell combined 
 (Because of numbers with them joined). 
 
 Who burned St. John in effigy. 
 
 I dreamed I heard their fife and drum. 
 Saw Please-men for their Chaplain come; 
 
 Saw all these hosts together stand. 
 And, as they marched, saw in their path 
 Destruction, sorrow, darkness, death. 
 
 Mourning and wailings filled the land. 
 
 Then, for fear they'd make a blunder, 
 Chose for leaders sons of Thunder. 
 
 They fought for dens of death, you see. 
 And stamped (the allegory runs), 
 *Potter and Crosby on their guns. 
 
 Thundered for Bruin's liberty. 
 
 *This does not refer to the author, but to 
 Bishop Potter. 
 
 124 
 
I heard their booming cannon roar. 
 Their bombs did fill the land with gore; 
 
 They vaunt their numbers; shake their purse. 
 Still onward marched this motley host, 
 Their license and restrictions boast, 
 
 And Prohibition's Party curse. 
 
 I saw these armies join the fight, 
 
 Those numerous hosts 'gainst God and right, 
 
 And all combined for error stand. 
 They wage a war 'gainst sober men. 
 In favor of the beasts and den. 
 
 And plant the Upas in the land. 
 
 But all undaunted, still they stand. 
 Our hero and his noble band, 
 
 'Gainst Denkeeper and his evil reign. 
 They vow to chop the Upas down. 
 To slay and take Denkeeper's crown, 
 
 And stop his mill of grief and pain. 
 
 To God I saw them bow their knees. 
 That he would help them fell those trees. 
 
 I dreamed I kneeled with them and prayed 
 That God would help them stop this den. 
 Turn back these hosts of guilty men. 
 
 And now I'll tell you what they said. 
 
 "Oh, God, the Lord who art our boast. 
 Stretch out thy hand against this host. 
 
 Deliver us from Egypt's king. 
 Be with us in the fearful fight 
 Against the wrong and for the right, 
 
 To Prohibition's Canaan bring." 
 
 'Twas thus I dreamed I heard them pray. 
 They prayed and fought both night and day 
 
 To drive away this curse and blight. 
 I saw that God their cause did bless. 
 Saw Prohibition have success. 
 
 Then I awoke and it was light. 
 
 I said, of course, 'tis but a dream, 
 But still so real to me did seem, 
 
 I said, the vision I will write. 
 My revery had brought such pain, 
 I feared lest I might dream again, 
 
 Some awful cold and stormy night. 
 
 Reader, which army do you train with? Is 
 it with Booser's and Sot's division? Remem- 
 ber, there is no neutral ground; no neutrals in 
 this war. 
 
 125 
 
SATIRICAL AFTERMATH TO DENS OF 
 DEATH 
 
 And so, one night, when storms were wild, 
 I saw the beasts devour a child; 
 
 Saw many beasts on every side. 
 It filled my heart with so much pain 
 I said, "I will go 'round again." 
 
 And so, I dreamxt, I ran and cried. 
 
 Although I'd trod those streets before. 
 And knocked at every single door, 
 
 I dreamt I hoped they'd changed their minds. 
 And so I dreamt I ran in haste. 
 Though many jeers and frowns I faced; 
 
 Still, on I ran 'gainst adverse winds. 
 
 Then Dreamt I met a numerous crowd; 
 Each head was high, all looks were proud. 
 
 But, still, I dreamt I urged my way 
 The same this time as at the first; 
 Still prayed for those who at me curst; 
 
 I ran and prayed till break of day. 
 
 Some chat about my dream, and then 
 I'll lay aside my ink and pen. 
 
 Well ere I into dreamland came. 
 Though it m^ay seem quite strange and odd, 
 I traveled through the land of Nod; 
 
 To get there, you must do the same. 
 
 Once in that drowsy land did seem, 
 I'd nothing but of dens to dream; 
 
 With innate hate against them borne. 
 I'd seen so many people slain; 
 Such havoc through Denkeeper's reign, 
 
 I dreamed from sundown till the morn. 
 
 I've told you of the folks I met. 
 And what they said, but not all yet; 
 
 As I proceed I'll tell you more. 
 Each answered my complaint with scorn. 
 More heartless set were never born, 
 
 I dreamed I'd met them all before. 
 
 It was to get a chance to hit 
 Those fellows with sarcastic wit 
 
 Which made me first lie down to dream. 
 You see, I had with others joined 
 My pray'rs with millions more combined; 
 
 But all in vain, as it did seem. 
 
 126 
 
In allegoric dream, I've hit 
 
 The den and those who license it. 
 
 So fiendish license laws do seem, 
 There's naught beneath the vaulted sky 
 Those license laws to justify. 
 
 I've satirized them in my dream. 
 
 Some people at my satire pause, 
 And wonder if I have a cause 
 
 For using satire in my dream. 
 The laws which license Bruin's den, 
 Stand guard for him to ruin men, 
 
 Are cause enough for me, 'twould seem. 
 
 There's floods of tears beneath the sun. 
 That's shed o'er what those dens have done, 
 
 And yet the men who make the laws 
 Dare not oppose, nor lift a hand 
 Against this curse which blights our land. 
 
 Such turpitude is ample cause. 
 
 Friends, if I'd told you all my dream. 
 Or even half I've heard and seen, 
 
 You would not think me so severe. 
 My satire you would never blame 
 If you should chance to see the same; 
 
 See friends devoured you hold so dear. 
 
 'Tis not a hap', 'tis known quite well. 
 This snare, this trap, this gin of hell — 
 
 'Twas meant to capture thoughtless men. 
 While License laws saloons support, 
 Their cause protects, we will retort 
 
 With satire 'gainst the licensed den. 
 
 We satirize the laws as well 
 
 As him who buys and those who sell, 
 
 With those who make the license laws. 
 This den's a curse, leads to the gutter, 
 Makes light the purse, takes bread and butter 
 
 From children's mouths, helps Satan's cause. 
 
 I fail to see in licens'd den 
 One quality to recommend. 
 
 Why vote for license, low or high? 
 'Tis villianous — you can't deny — 
 'Tis ruinous both to low and high, 
 
 Brings millions in disgrace to die. 
 
 Why fraternize with party, then, 
 Or patronize this horrid den. 
 
 By voting with the license men? 
 All you, who love your fellow race. 
 Come show it by your works and ways. 
 
 Come vote to close this slaughter pen! 
 
 127 
 
But now the people ask of me, 
 Why dream with such a brilHancy, 
 
 That all may see the truth so bright? 
 Ask, why not let the rich and strong, 
 Without rebuke serve people wrong; 
 
 Why in their faces thrust my Hght? 
 
 Why dream to make their actions speak 
 The things which they had not the cheek 
 With their own tongue and voice to tell? 
 From house-top make them loud proclaim 
 What guilty lips had hid with shame- 
 Truth Satan blushed to hear in hell? 
 
 This dream, they say, drags forth to light 
 From secret closets dark as night. 
 
 The men whor-e hands are stained with 
 blood; 
 Men in high places bribed to wrong. 
 Who ope their ears to Siren-song, 
 
 But close their eyes to light of God. 
 
 I have commission, all divine, 
 
 To let my light in darkness shine, 
 
 The evils of those dens to show; 
 To hold it high, that all may see. 
 That naught upon an evil tree 
 
 But evil fruit can ever grow. 
 
 Some ask me why in verse I dream; 
 Say too poetical I seem. 
 
 Do you wish my reasons, dearest friend? 
 It seemed that verse would aid my cause 
 In dreaming 'gainst those license laws; 
 
 To interest readers, too, would tend. 
 
 In dreamland, friends, I never heard 
 The voice of single prosy bird. 
 
 All seemed to rhyme like hawks and crows. 
 Officials, too, did beat the time 
 Compelling me to dream in rhyme. 
 
 Thus ruling from my dream all prose. 
 
 Now, some have raised a false report. 
 And say I dreamed this all for sport. 
 
 The allegation I deny. 
 For, friends, I had but little fun, 
 As I the streets for help did run. 
 
 In vain I sought it, low and high. 
 
 It was my fellows' plaintive cries; 
 To raise him up, I closed my eyes 
 
 And went through all this frightful dream, 
 While Priest and Levite passed him by. 
 And he in vain for help did cry; 
 
 Naked and wounded, too, doth seem. 
 
 128 
 
Among those thieves I saw him lie, 
 With wounds and woes, ready to die. 
 
 If I should let him cry in vain, 
 Nor heal, nor clothe, nor shelter him, 
 Nor even for the fellow dream, 
 
 I feared his blood my hands would stain. 
 
 'Tis License Laws which him enslave: 
 'Twas from those laws I wished to save. 
 
 Those laws, repealed, would set him free. 
 Denkeeper hides behind those laws, 
 And State doth plead the Demon's cause. 
 
 Since he's obtained the license fee. 
 
 I laughed a bit, though, when I came 
 To Party Press and saw his game. 
 
 He seemed ta feel such great alarm, 
 A kicking mule, which long was dead, 
 He- feared would come to life, he said. 
 
 That if it should, 'twould do much harm. 
 
 A score of years or more, 'tis said. 
 An issue of this mule he made. 
 
 In mimic fray he fights it still, 
 No other issue will he know; 
 Against no other beast will go. 
 
 Though Bruin hosts of folks doth kill. 
 
 Miss License Party, too, did flirt 
 And shake about the bloody shirt; 
 
 She kept it on the breeze for years. 
 In shaking it she had great skill; 
 She seemed to do this with a will. 
 
 At first the people shed some tears. 
 
 But after it was done and told 
 
 A thousand times, grew stale and old. 
 
 Folks will not scare now worth a cent; 
 No meaning by this trick they see; 
 No danger from this shirt can be; 
 
 She's talked so much she never meant. 
 
 Now, when old Clergy split in two, 
 I could not tell what I should do, 
 
 I feared 'twould prove to be his end. 
 But when one-half did stand upright. 
 Like hero 'gainst the dens did fight, 
 
 I set him down as my best friend. 
 
 I love him much; him brother call, 
 As David loved the son of Saul. 
 
 Between us two there is a vow. 
 But Crosby-half lay in his blood; 
 He stood not up for man or God; 
 
 In filth he wallowed like a sow. 
 
 129 
 (9) 
 
At first old Caucus promised me — 
 Ah, me! What squirmy fellow he! — 
 
 He set a time which ne'er will come; 
 
 He feared it might his party hurt. 
 Brewery would bolt if he should flirt; 
 
 Good servant, too, he said was Rum. 
 
 Convention came the very next; 
 With him I was completely vext; 
 
 He'd not so much as look at me. 
 But when those men with bloody hands 
 In old Convention's presence stand, 
 
 At home with them, he seems to be. 
 
 As Pedagogue had lost his son, 
 
 I thought, of course, he'll be the one 
 
 To help me stop this slaughter pen. 
 He told how many books he'd read; 
 How much he'd mused upon his bed; 
 
 Said he, "You ne'er can stop this den!" 
 
 Old Judicial then did speak 
 
 (It seems he's made of brass and cheek) : 
 
 "You can't! you can't! you can't! "h^ said. 
 "You can't prohibit Bruin's den. 
 You ne'er can stop this slaughter pen. 
 
 You cannot kill old Bruin dead." 
 
 Then Legal to his tune did dance; 
 Some special reasons did advance; 
 
 If dens were stopped, no cause of strife; 
 Said Smith would never pound old Jones, 
 Nor Jones get drunk and break Smith's bones; 
 
 "Then, how could I support my wife?" 
 
 When Oriental crossed the street, 
 I hurried on, this sage to greet, 
 
 But spent my time and strength in vain. 
 He said no help to cranks he'd give; 
 Said, let those harmless creatures live. 
 
 Then said, "Don't bother me again!" 
 
 Old Medical seemed much afraid, 
 
 To slay those beasts would spoil his trade; 
 
 "Few bones for me to set," said he, 
 "If all these dens of death were stopped. 
 Those beasts were slain, the Upas chopped. 
 
 But little business then for me." 
 
 When first Vox Populi I saw. 
 
 His size inspired my soul with awe; 
 
 I knew this giant had the power. 
 If he should once espouse my cause, 
 He could repeal all license laws. 
 
 And stop those dens in half an hour. 
 
 130 
 
Just then Political I met, 
 
 But got no help from him, you bet. 
 
 His party had the start of me. 
 I showed the Tightness of our cause, 
 And evils of all license laws — 
 
 (Political soon skipped, you see.) 
 
 But when I met with Husbandry, 
 Some help at first he promised me, 
 
 Then feared 'twould make the market low. 
 He said he'd come to town with rye 
 And wished to keep the market high; 
 
 Said, "After while with you I'll go." 
 
 Now, when I met Municipal, 
 When at his feet imploring fell, 
 
 He talked about supporting schools; 
 Some questions asked about the streets; 
 How build them, how expenses meet. 
 
 Then called us all a set of fools. 
 
 I met a strong and active man, 
 (Police, I think, they called his name; 
 
 They'd dressed him well and he was armed.) 
 He said 'twould quite unjoint his nose 
 If we those dens of death should close; 
 
 They'd helped him much, but never harmed. 
 
 Old Mercantile did near me come. 
 Just as I made my plea for home; 
 
 He heard me when I read my text, 
 Found fault with every word I said; 
 Said it would kill his party dead. 
 
 Was at my application vext. 
 
 I met a man at length quite tall. 
 
 And strongly built, whom State they call. 
 
 I showed to him those slaughter pens. 
 He said the business was unfair. 
 Enough to make a preacher swear; 
 
 Said he must raise the price on dens. 
 
 Now, when I came to Legislate, 
 He bade me stand outside his gate. 
 
 Then turned him to some bloody men: 
 "As for these cranks," he, whispering, said, 
 He wished the whole caboodle dead. 
 
 "Let Bruin roam," he said to them. 
 
 "While Bruin thins the people's ranks, 
 Keep busy raking in the stamps! 
 
 But part of your unrighteous gain 
 Belongs to me, without a doubt. 
 For letting you turn Bruin out. 
 
 I've crowned you king and let you reign." 
 
 131 
 
"These Christians," he said, "are bothering me 
 That I from dens might set them free; 
 
 I'll tell you what, and it is nice, 
 Just let your beasts go on and kill. 
 Your murdering business keep up still, 
 
 But pay to me a higher price." 
 
 I took a million names and went 
 With them to see our Government. 
 
 (Petitions made to her), and found 
 That she and nation were combined, 
 Confederates were, and firmly joined 
 
 To fight our cause the world around. 
 
 Now, when I saw old Uncle Sam, 
 I felt some joy, and quickly ran 
 
 And on his knee I climbed at once. 
 I 'sposed he'd laugh and tell me "Thanks," 
 But 'stead of that he put on spanks, 
 
 Called me a crank and little dunce. 
 
 But when I came to Congress Hall, 
 With million names on him to call, 
 
 He ran and got his almanac; 
 "Too soon," said he, "you've made your call. 
 The moon, I see, is much too small," 
 
 Then frowned on me and set me back. 
 
 Said, "Wait till Devilfish arrives 
 
 From big Salt Lake, with eighteen wives!" 
 
 Said, "I must wait for the result." 
 This fish I knew not at the time, 
 Had only heard he dripped with slime. 
 
 "Of course," said Congress, "no insult." 
 
 You cannot think how I did feel 
 With Devilfish, that lampereel. 
 
 And with his eighteen flirts to stand. 
 But, friends, I was compelled to wait 
 With them outside old Congress' gate. 
 
 But 'twas disgrace to Christian land. 
 
 Now, when to Nation's house I came, 
 I found him playing at his game. 
 
 He played for tax and revenue; 
 He tossed his cards with wondrous skill. 
 Hoping his coffers thus to fill, 
 
 Worse than the heathen nations do. 
 
 He says these things he'll never mince. 
 Since Montezuma's heathen prince 
 
 Each year slew twenty thousand men. 
 His idol's anger to appease. 
 Said he'd do bigger things than these 
 
 For Bacchus, through this slaughter pen. 
 
 132 
 
How say you, then, I dream for sport? 
 Or say the praise of men I court? 
 
 If twenty miles of street you'd run 
 And sought for help, but all in vain; 
 Nor help, nor favor either, gain, 
 
 D'you 'spose you'd call it sport or fun? 
 
 If you 'mong dens of death should roam; 
 See beasts devour your brother's home; 
 
 See the official set them on; 
 See all the rulers of the land 
 For dens and Upas take their stand; 
 
 Besot the folks as I've seen done; 
 
 If people, knowing how you stood. 
 Should say your principles were good, 
 
 Then turn and vote against them square; 
 If every single soul you meet 
 'Gainst helping you were firmly set, 
 
 D'y 'spose you'd think they'd served you fair? 
 
 Suppose you knew that people could 
 Destroy all dens, if they but would. 
 
 If floods of alligators tears 
 Those people every day should shed. 
 And pray and wish those beasts were dead, 
 
 Then vote to let them run for years; 
 
 If you should see your rulers stand 
 For Devils' dens throughout the land; 
 
 Should see them your own brother sell; 
 If beasts, which they'd turned out to ream. 
 Should enter and despoil your home. 
 
 If licens'd beasts your sons should kill; 
 
 Suppose your heart did ache and bleed, 
 In vain with statesmen, too, you plead; 
 
 If, with petitions you should come, 
 And pray to them, as honored men. 
 To please close up this slaughter pen. 
 
 And they'd refuse, would that be fun? 
 
 But, friend, though twice you've trod the 
 
 ground, 
 For help have twice come pleading 'round; 
 
 If ruling parties are combined 
 To burn our cause in effigy, 
 If Party Press set down on thee, 
 
 If Clergy's to his idols joined. 
 
 If they, for filthy lucre's sake, 
 A share in all this business take, 
 
 If with old parties they're combined, 
 With wicked men joined hand in hand, 
 To license dens throughout the land, 
 
 Be not discouraged in your mind. 
 
 133 
 
Remember, friends, our cause is good, 
 And mighty is the hand of God. 
 
 He hears the humble prisoner's groans; 
 His hand is raised 'gainst license laws; 
 He'll favor Prohibition's cause; 
 
 From dens he'll help us save our homes. 
 
 What though to help us friends are few? 
 If we to duty shall prove true. 
 
 We having such a mighty Friend? 
 What though the conflict should be long. 
 Though foes be many, too, and strong? 
 
 Our cause shall triumph in the end. 
 
 3 34 
 
"TWO YALLER DOGS." 
 
 I dreamt two dogs, in olden times, 
 
 Which did one master foller, 
 Fought and quarreled 'bout tints and hues. 
 
 Yet both were of one color — 
 
 Both of these dogs were yaller. 
 
 'Twas when the names of dogs were scarce, 
 
 And all had been used up. 
 So when these yaller dogs were born. 
 
 No name for either pup — 
 
 But both alike were yaller. 
 
 Dreamt when they came to christen them. 
 
 They knew not what to do; 
 Their color was reproach to them, 
 
 Not red, nor white, nor blue — 
 But both of them were yaller. 
 
 Nobody could distinguish them. 
 One looked just like the other; 
 
 They could not tell themselves apart. 
 Nor which of them was t'other — 
 For both were just as yaller. 
 
 No spot of white had either dog, 
 
 (All over, both were yaller), 
 Both dogs were large and strong and fat, 
 
 Both lived on mutton taller- 
 Still, both of them were yaller. 
 
 A bear passed through the neighborhood. 
 
 And gobbled up a child; 
 One yaller dog lay still and slept, 
 
 T'other was frantic, wild — 
 
 Still, both of them were yaller. 
 
 The noisy dog at him did rave. 
 And barked both night and day; 
 
 But never tried the child to save, 
 Or drive the beast away- 
 Still, both alike were yaller. 
 
 The sleepy dog seemed not to care 
 
 About the kidnaped child; 
 Paid no attention to the bear. 
 
 Nor to his doings wild — 
 
 Still, both of them were yaller. 
 
 I've told you they were nameless dogs, 
 But 'twant so with their owner; 
 
 His name was Brewery, Still Slop, Grogs, 
 A vile man of dishonor. 
 
 Who owned those dogs so yaller. 
 
 135 
 
When Still Slop went abroad for prey, 
 
 For Still Slop was a gunner, 
 He always starved the hindmost dog, 
 
 But fed the fastest runner 
 
 Of those two dogs so yaller. 
 
 He never cared which dog it was, 
 
 Which got most mutton taller; 
 Whichever one could get ahead. 
 
 With him was the best feller— 
 Tho' he was just as yaller. 
 
 Another dog came trotting past, 
 
 Tho' nothing but a pup; 
 He saw the child in Bruin's mouth 
 
 And gobbled Bruin up; 
 
 But he was white; not yaller. 
 
 The times have changed somewhat, you see. 
 
 And changed is the condition; 
 For a very handsome name has he, 
 
 We call him Prohibition — 
 
 The purest white; not yaller. 
 
 This dog is growing fast, indeed, 
 
 Is strong and handsome, too; 
 And when he gets his growth, take heed, 
 
 There is something he will do; 
 For he has no spot of yaller. 
 
 This dog will clear of dens the land. 
 
 Will put them out of sight; 
 For principle this dog doth stand, 
 
 For he is purest white — 
 
 No single hair of yaller. 
 
 Which of these dogs, now, would you choose; 
 
 Your child in same condition? 
 Would yaller dog serve you the best. 
 
 Or white dog. Prohibition? 
 
 Choose 'twixt the white and yaller. 
 
 Your child is never safe, dear friends. 
 With those two dogs so yaller; 
 
 For beasts will drag it to their dens. 
 And slay the little feller, — 
 
 Not safe with dogs so yaller. 
 
 Ne'er trust your child with yaller dogs, — 
 
 'Tis a dangerous position. 
 For dens and beasts are all around 
 
 To drag it to perdition. 
 
 Don't trust a dog that's yaller! 
 
 136 
 
These dogs rum parties represent, 
 
 Whom many people foller 
 'Tis why so many a child is lost. 
 
 Each sells your child for dollar. 
 Yes, each rum party's yaller. 
 
 Come listen now awhile to me; 
 
 I'll tell you what to do,— 
 You choose the white dog of the three, 
 
 Since he is good and true, 
 
 Without one spot of yaller. 
 
 I know your child is dear to you. 
 
 You'd save the little feller. 
 Then trust no party pledged to rum 
 
 Or to the mighty dollar,— 
 
 Such parties are all yallar. 
 
 I beg of you, my friends, tonight 
 Help rescue your own child 
 
 By doing what you know is right, 
 Slay the dramshop beast so wild. 
 Support no cause that's yaller! 
 
 This poem was written when my grandson, 
 Howard Tyson, was a small lad. He commit- 
 ted it to memory and recited it at a prohibition 
 meeting. 
 
 137 
 
SHAMMA SHIRK. 
 OLD SATIRE'S DREAM. 
 
 Old Satire once arose and told 
 His dream about the times of old 
 When woodmen in the clearing chopped, 
 
 When this our Yankee land was new, 
 When stroke by stroke the boughs they lopt 
 And boys and maids piled brush heaps, too, 
 When dusky chieftains owned the ground 
 And wolves and panthers prowled around, 
 
 When deer in great abundance were. 
 And elk and buffalo and bear. 
 
 Dreamed oft did sound the huntsman's horn. 
 While through the forest, steed and hound 
 Sped forth in chase at early dawn 
 To scent their game and hunt it down. 
 I dreamt that in those early times. 
 Of which I now am making rhymes, 
 
 There came a man named Shamma Shirk, 
 While men and boys were Jiard at work 
 Chopping and clearing in the wood; 
 He joined them in their labor hard. 
 This Shamma's morals were quite good 
 And he grew rich as a reward. 
 He made a home and took a wife 
 And settled down, I dreamt, for life. 
 
 As years went by Sham still increased; 
 The labor of his hands was blessed; 
 His sleep was sweet, and few his cares, 
 To all his duties Sham was true. 
 And every day he said his prayers. 
 So Shamma Shirk had equals few. 
 To cap the climax of his joys 
 His Betsy gave him many boys. 
 
 Sham loved the oldest son the best; 
 Still doted much on all the rest. 
 He grew so rich, so wise and good. 
 
 So independent he became, 
 They made him rule the neighborhood; 
 Wisely and gently he did reign. 
 Sham traveled much and got a name; 
 His subjects favor thus did gain. 
 
 138 
 
A rebel tyrant, full of wrath, 
 On kicking mule did cross his path, 
 And tho he furnished them no straw 
 
 He made Sham's subjects work for naught; 
 Full tale of brick was tyrant's law. 
 
 Sham's subjects thus were sold and 
 bought; 
 On many put he galling chams; 
 No fault of theirs why tyrant reigns. 
 
 He had no sense at all of right, 
 But picked the colored from the white; 
 The color of their skin decides; 
 
 This tyrant swore he served them right; 
 This pulls the cart while that one rides ; 
 Nor does this Gallio care a mite. 
 Sham tried to reason and to talk 
 But could not with this tyrant walk. 
 
 I dreamt Shirk's daughter wrote a book, 
 And all his subjects in it look. 
 For tyrants then they drew a line 
 
 (For so Sham's subjects thought it best); 
 To this the tyrant did decline. 
 His angry spirit knew no rest. 
 I dreamt this tyrant, wrong or right. 
 With Shama Shirk then came to fight. 
 
 Shirk called a woodman to the chair 
 And made him lift his hand and swear 
 That all the settlers he'd defend. 
 
 So giant Abe came from the wood; 
 He made quick work, you m.ay depend. 
 With maul and ax, both tried and good, 
 He chopped in two the settler's chain 
 And stopped the rebel tyrant's reign. 
 
 Abe slew the rebel's kicking beast 
 And made his master's dogs a feast. 
 Great feats of war the giant wrought; 
 
 He slew the tyrant with his maul. 
 Conquered the hosts with whom he fought, 
 Then rested Abe ;— but that's not all,— 
 To smoke the pipe-of-peace sat down 
 With war-ax buried in the ground. 
 
 I dreamt it came to pass one day 
 
 (At least it seemed to me it did), 
 While boys and girls were out to play, 
 
 While some were seeking, others hid, 
 A bear came into Shamma's cot. 
 
 He grinned and growled and stood about. 
 If he might find some food or not. 
 
 But Betsy tried to drive him out. 
 
 139 
 
Her husband being out at work, 
 
 As bruin scared not worth a cent, 
 She ran and called to Shamma Shirk. 
 
 So, quickly to the house he went. 
 At once old Sham grab'd up the gun 
 
 (As Betsy thought to shoot the beast), 
 But up the stairway Shirk did run 
 
 While on his child the bear did feast. 
 
 The mother cries, "Be quick to shoot! 
 
 He's murdering our poor child," she said. 
 "Shoot quick, and kill the horrid brute! 
 
 See,— in his jaws our little Ned!" 
 " 'Tis dangerous work to shoot," said he, 
 
 "A wounded bear's a dangerous brute." 
 "For God's sake! shoot the beast!" said she, 
 
 "Or hand the gun and let me shoot." 
 
 "My ammunition's scarce," said he, 
 
 "And I might miss the horrid brute." 
 "What ails you Sham? You must be wild!" 
 
 The frantic mother cries again. 
 "Why don't you save our darling child?" 
 
 The little boy then shrieked with pain, 
 "He's dying! Sham, shoot quick!" she cried; 
 
 And then the mangled Neddy died. 
 
 "He's not an issue," answered Sham. 
 
 The mother fell into a swoon, — 
 But after while rose up again. 
 
 Her sister Frances, hearing, came — 
 Seeing the beast she took the broom, 
 
 While Johnny came in with his hatchet. 
 When Betsy saw them in the room 
 
 She grabbed the ax to dispatch it. 
 
 "Don't strike the varmint!" shouted Sham, 
 
 "He's no issue," Sham kept bawling; 
 But the three attacked their game 
 
 And laid old Bruin a-sprawling. 
 "Why didn't you shoot?" they then demanded, 
 
 "He's chewed to death our little Ned!" 
 "You're a set of cranks," roared old Sham, 
 
 "Struck personal liberty!" he said. 
 
 "What right to say what he should eat?" 
 
 I dreamt that Sham did curse his wife 
 And kicked her out into the street; 
 
 For mother's instinct cursed his wife, 
 Because she tried to save her home. 
 
 He threatened Betsy's sister's life 
 For striking Bruin with the broom. 
 
 To wreak his vengeance he was rife. 
 
 140 
 
He called his own son, John, a crank 
 
 And burnt him, too in effigy; 
 Degraded to the lowest rank. 
 
 Because he struck the beast, you see. 
 I dreamt he drove them all away 
 
 To wander wheresoe'er they might, 
 Nor longer would he let them stay 
 
 Although it was so near to night. 
 
 So they wandered forth mid darkness, 
 Being driven from their home. 
 
 They were without a shelter 
 They knew not where to roam. 
 
 Fatigued and sore with travel. 
 
 They slept beside a wall. 
 But, ere they closed their eyelids, 
 
 For care Divine did call. 
 
 Tho sad was their condition. 
 
 Mid sorrow all forlorn, 
 A child called Prohibition 
 
 Was unto Betsy born. 
 
 How proud was Frances Save-boy! 
 
 How joyful too, his mother! 
 How happy little Johnny! 
 
 To see his baby brother. 
 
 "This child shall bring deliverance 
 From the Upas and the bear; 
 
 For he's a proper baby, — 
 So goodly and so fair. 
 
 Our day star hath arisen — 
 
 There's brightness in the East! 
 
 He'll be to us a Moses, 
 
 He'll save us from the beast. 
 
 To us he'll bring deliverance 
 
 From worse than Egypt's king; 
 
 From dens and from the Upas 
 Deliverance he will bring." 
 
 Thus sang this little party, 
 
 When first he saw the light; ' 
 
 "He'll be a man of conquest 
 A man of wondrous might." 
 
 Said Sham, "I must see my relations. 
 Must seek and obtain their advice, 
 
 For they are renowned thru the nation 
 As men that are learned and wise." 
 
 141 
 
Said he, "I have friends by the dozens 
 Who are scattered about in the East; 
 
 I will tell to my uncles and cousins, 
 What Betsy has done to my beast. 
 
 "But first, I will visit my brother 
 
 And tell what I've done to my wife, 
 And also to Frances and Johnny 
 
 For taking beast Revenue's life. 
 Dreamt that was what he called Bruin, 
 
 The beast which mangled his Ned, 
 Which in millions of homes has wrought ruin; 
 
 " "Tis a smoother name," Shamma had said. 
 
 "My oldest brother's quite a scholar, 
 He's living down in Bull John holler. 
 
 Next time I take a trip down East 
 I'll go and see my Brother John, 
 
 And ask him what about the beast, — 
 If he would slay or let him run. 
 His brother John said, "Look at me! 
 I always let those brutes run free. 
 You take the advice I give to you" 
 I dreamt Sham said, "I think I do." 
 
 "I'll see my uncles next," said Sham, 
 • Calling five or six by name, 
 
 "To my Uncle Lucre I'll go now, 
 Because he lives the nearest by. 
 
 I'll ask if he to beasts would bow. 
 Or if he'd cause those beasts to die, 
 
 "I have the power in my own hand 
 To stop those dens or let them stand. 
 
 I could control them at my will; 
 Could close each den throughout the land; 
 
 But that would not my coffers fill; — 
 So I'm inclined to let them stand." 
 
 That's what his Uncle Lucre said, 
 "I would not kill the varmints dead. 
 I'd tax them high and let them run, 
 
 Although they've box't my boys about. 
 Go home and do as I have done! 
 
 Go tax those beasts and turn them out. 
 You take the advice I give to you!" 
 I dreamt Sham said, "You bet I do." 
 
 To his Uncle Policy, Sham went next. 
 For he, like Sham, with dens was vext. 
 To hear what council he would give; 
 To slay those beasts, or let them live. 
 He said, "If office you would gain 
 'Tis to your interest, I maintain, 
 
 142 
 
"To bow at Bruin's feet and fall; 
 
 In filth of dens 'tis best to crawl; 
 
 There's policy in war," said he, 
 
 "But do not fight against the beast! 
 At war with cranks you'd better be. 
 That's my advice to you at least. 
 Will you take the counsel I give you?" 
 I dreamt Sham said, "That's what I do." 
 
 To Intrigue next, I dreamt he came. 
 For that was Sham's third uncle's name; 
 The cutest one, but not the least. 
 
 "How do you think this way will work? 
 Pretend you'd like to slay the beast. 
 
 And then pretend to folks you can't." 
 "That's boss," Intrigue replied to Shirk, 
 'Twas just the counsel Sham did want. 
 Intrigue said, "That's what I would do." 
 I dreamt Sham said, "I'll do that, too." 
 
 To his Uncle Saloon then Sham did go; 
 
 Said, "Is this the best to do or not?" 
 
 (This uncle owned a corner lot.) 
 "Place on the dens a revenue; 
 
 I'll give to you my reasons why; — 
 He doesn't wish to die just yet. 
 
 Say, why not raise the license high?" 
 Saloon replied, "I would, you bet, 
 I'd spare his life if I were you." 
 I dreamt Sham said, " 'Tis what I'll do." 
 
 "I have an uncle called Connive; 
 I hear that he is still alive; 
 I'll ask him if it is not wise, 
 
 When cranks complain about the beasts, 
 To turn away and shut your eyes, 
 While Bruin on your children feasts." 
 "Yes," said Connive, " 'Tis right for you." 
 (I dreamt Sham said, "That's what I'll do.") 
 
 He said, "You're just a whistling shirk, — 
 That's just the way for you to work. 
 Go feign that he's no issue then; 
 
 Feign that the tariff should come first; 
 Draw from the beast the minds of men; 
 Let all the cranks by you be cursed; — 
 "I would," said he, "if I was you." 
 I dreamt that Sham replied, "I do." 
 
 "My Uncle Brewery I'll consult. 
 For he is honest to a fault." 
 Said Sham, "He is so very straight, 
 None other that with him will mate, 
 He's like unto the Indian's tree, 
 So straight, he leans the other way,— 
 
 143 
 
A generous and a jolly soul." 
 
 Said Sham, "I'd almost bet my life 
 This man, who has such large control, 
 Will not advise to heed my wife." 
 Said Brewery, "That's no way for you!" 
 Then Sham replied, "I know it, too." 
 
 "To Uncle Still-slops I'll go next, 
 With the temperance cranks he's always vexed. 
 He seems to be a sort of king." 
 
 Dreamt I heard what Still-slops said. 
 In politics I'd never bring 
 
 The beast, for that would kill him dead. 
 Do just as I've commanded you!" 
 "Uncle," I dreamt Sham said, "I do!" 
 
 I'll go to Uncle Guzzle now. 
 Humbly at his feet I'll bow. 
 
 "We're both together in one boat," 
 
 Said Guzzle, "Don't you touch the beast! 
 For if you do you'll lose my vote. 
 Consider now if that's the best. 
 Do you hear what I've said to you?" 
 Dreamt Sham replied," I think I do." 
 
 I dreamt Sham went to Lobby then 
 And asked him what about the den. 
 "Keep him from politics," he said, 
 
 "And find some other thing to fight; 
 For politics would kill him dead. 
 
 You know that wouldn't serve him right. 
 I'd dig for gold, if I was you." 
 I dreamt Sham said, "That's what I'll do." 
 
 Sham then went South to see some friends 
 And ask them what about those dens, 
 
 And what they thought about the cranks; 
 
 Tell how he'd kicked his Betsy out 
 For joining with the raiders ranks. 
 
 Those friends told Sham to look about 
 And pick some certain patches out, 
 Some very favored spots of land 
 On which old Bruin might not stand. 
 "To screen those beasts their lives to spare. 
 You'd better change the thing about 
 And let them loose again next year." 
 Do you hear what we are telling you?" 
 Sham said, "You better believe I do." 
 
 Said Sham, "I'll go to Priest O'Shay 
 I'll start right now, this very day, 
 And hear what counsel he will give." 
 "Go pray to God that beasts may die, 
 
 144 
 
Then cast your votes to let them live. 
 Make your ballot give your prayer the lie. 
 That's the way," this Holy Father said, "for 
 
 you." 
 I dreamt Sham said, "That's what I'll do!" 
 
 Sham went to old Municipal 
 And asked that sage if he could tell 
 What he should do with Bruin's den. 
 
 "A tax so high I'd make him give, 
 'Twill draw into the snare all men. 
 And then they'll let the critter live. 
 'Twill mend the streets, pay taxes too." 
 Dreamt Sham replied, "That's what I'll do." 
 
 "Ne'er heed the voice of cranks or fools! 
 But tax the beast to run the schools. 
 'Twill fatten up our legal men, 
 Our sheriff, and our jury, too. 
 Keep open wide this slaughter pen 
 'Twill please me well if this you'll do. 
 Mind that's the better way for you." 
 I dreamt Sham said, "That's what I'll do." 
 
 Dreamt Shamma Shirk came home again 
 
 And looked and stared about. 
 No Betsy in the house to reign 
 
 For he had kicked her out. 
 But Shamma wished her home again 
 
 To fix some grub and tea. 
 Miss License party then takes Sham, 
 
 (And a lusty maid was she) ; 
 As she was fond of beasts and dens, 
 Sham said, "She's just the one for me." 
 
 When Betsy knew what Sham had done 
 
 She could refrain no more. 
 She came to see her former home; 
 
 Stood weeping at the door. 
 
 While Betsy's eyes in tears were swimming 
 Said Sham, "It don't belong to women 
 To kill a beast, — 'tis out of fashion, 
 Tho women for it have a passion." 
 
 He said it was a silly notion, — 
 Said women never ought to shoot. 
 At all such twaddle Shirk did hoot. 
 
 Said, "In the home 'twould make commo- 
 tion." 
 
 Said, "Those sisters, wives and mothers, 
 Think they're just as good as men. 
 
 The equals of their sons and brothers. 
 Would like to help them stop the den, — 
 
 145 
 
 (10) 
 
"Bets' thinks of nothing else,*' he said, 
 "She'd give her life for home and Ned." 
 "Mind Betsy, what I say is true! 
 I do more 'gainst the beasts than you. 
 
 Behold my works to save poor souls! 
 Many a ribbon white and blue 
 
 I tie in people's buttonholes, 
 And many more such things I do." 
 
 But Betsy to old Shamma said, 
 "Who cares a snap for all you've did? 
 
 You never slew one single beast, 
 But let one kill our little Ned. 
 
 You might have saved his Hfe, at lea^t. 
 Oh dear, it pains my heart," she said, 
 "Some trivial things you may have done, 
 But never tried to save our home; 
 And that's too bad for us," she said, 
 "I always think of our poor Ned. 
 
 Should ribbons save some men and boys 
 In this I truly will rejoice. 
 
 Yet open stands old Bruin's den 
 
 Devouring still the sons and brothers 
 Of our ribboned boys and men. 
 
 You may be saved, but there are others, 
 And every day and every hour 
 Those dens some mothers' sons devour. 
 
 Betwixt the two said shirky Sham, 
 Our Ned was much the most to blame; 
 He was one of the thoughtless souls 
 
 Which to our lectures pay no heed, 
 Tied no ribbons in the buttonholes — 
 That's why old Bruin killed our Ned. 
 
 "Your talk," said Betsy, "is quite cheap. 
 But when Smith's dog did kill our sheep 
 You never blamed the sheep at all. 
 
 Nor gave a license to Smith's hound. 
 But all the blame lay on the dog; 
 
 Took up your gun and shot him down. 
 
 "I hate your ways in this," she said, 
 "You pet the beast, and blame our Ned. 
 This thing of you I'll never like. 
 
 You slay a dog to save a sheep, 
 But still refused to shot or strike 
 This beast, when all of us did weep. 
 I always think of our poor Ned, — 
 You might have saved his life!" she said. 
 
 146 
 
I dreamt that Frances Save-boy came 
 
 To see on what condition 
 Her sister might remain with Sham 
 
 And bring in Prohibition. 
 But Shamma bade Miss Frances stop; 
 
 And bother him no more, 
 While License party took the mop 
 
 And drove them from the door. 
 
 Dreamt Betsy and Miss Save-boy 
 And little Johnny, full of joy 
 At the birth of Prohibition 
 Gathered up a little band. 
 And taking firm position, 
 Went marching through the land. 
 
 I dreamt their banner they unfurled, 
 
 As soon as they had taken their stand. 
 To be seen and read by all the world, 
 
 "For God and home and native land!" 
 And as they marched beneath its folds 
 
 The minstrels sang for them this song, 
 Encouraging their jaded souls. 
 
 And so I dreamt they trudged along. 
 
 SONG OF THE MINSTRELS. 
 
 Prohibition's a healthy lad, 
 
 A well proportioned boy. 
 And he will make the mothers glad; 
 
 Their hearts he'll fill with joy. 
 
 He'll drive away the stormy cloud 
 
 From our political skies. 
 And sweep away the refuge of 
 
 Miss License party's lies. 
 
 He will attack and overcome 
 
 Two giants base, of yore. 
 Free Rum and Licensed Rum, 
 
 Who live on greed and gore. 
 
 Miss License Party too must go. 
 Although she's fearful strong:. 
 
 She lives on other people's woe; 
 Her neighbor she doth wrong; 
 
 For money she doth sell the right, 
 
 Which never was her own. 
 But Prohibition, in his might. 
 
 Shall hurl the tyrant down, 
 
 147 
 
Nor can the beast defy the law; 
 
 Against this hero stand. 
 He'll slay and hang against the wall; 
 
 His hide stuff full of sand. 
 
 You Can't Prohibit, too, he'll take 
 And serve him just the same. 
 
 Or else his fault he must forsake, 
 Or else must change his name. 
 
 Denkeeper too, this child will slay 
 
 And stop quite up his den. 
 The Upas on the ground he'll lay 
 
 And from its curse save men. 
 
 That people, now unborn, who rise, 
 
 May, as they trudge along. 
 Live more secure 'neath brighter skies. 
 
 Freed from this curse and wrong. 
 
 He'll teach Elder Please Men 
 To cleanse his hands from blood 
 
 And show him that a preacher 
 Should be a man of God; 
 
 Should set a good example 
 
 To those beneath his care; 
 And bid him use his franchise 
 
 In harmony with prayer." 
 
 Then said little Johnny 
 
 "My duty is quite plain — 
 The way is clear before me, 
 
 I must the right maintain. 
 
 I must protect my mother 
 
 From all invading foes. 
 Tho mighty hosts oppose us, 
 
 The battle we shall win. 
 They once opposed the Saviour, 
 
 When he was fighting sin. 
 
 At the root of this great Upas 
 
 The axe he once did lay, 
 And we'll hew it at his bidding, — 
 
 Whatever people say." 
 
 Then said Dame Betsy and Frances, 
 "He hath raised us up a banner 
 
 And a standard-bearer, too. 
 We're a home protection party 
 
 And we must dare and do. 
 
 As time rolls on, our numbers 
 Shall increase from day to day. 
 
 Tho the Upas now encumbers, 
 Our God will clear our way. 
 
 148 
 
He'll avenge the blood of Neddy 
 
 By every willing hand; 
 And there's thousands getting ready 
 
 To join our growing band. 
 
 Come on, ye noble heroes! 
 
 There's dens of death to stop. 
 Come raise ye up the fallen! 
 
 Come dig this Upas up! 
 
 The times are fast a-changing, 
 
 And men begin to see 
 That beasts abroad are ranging 
 
 To bring but misery. 
 
 Tho the dens of death are licensed 
 By the money-loving crew, 
 
 Who sit now in high places, 
 Their sins will bring them low. 
 
 God's hand is stretched out for us; 
 
 The hand of his great might. 
 What evil can befall us 
 
 While battling for the right? 
 
 We've fathers, sons and brothers 
 
 Beneath the Upas shade; 
 Once men but now are demons. 
 
 And wretched homes have made. 
 
 The reign of Prohibition 
 
 They soon with us shall share, 
 
 If we fulfill our mission, — 
 If we but do and dare. 
 
 SPIES ARE SENT IN SEARCH. 
 
 I dreamt a rumor came just then. 
 That somewhere near there was a den 
 
 Of beasts, from which old Bruin came. 
 Three men were sent to search it out 
 Who ranged the country round about 
 
 To see if they could find some game. 
 
 They struck a trail as they did travel, 
 'Twas Moderation, Brisk and Marvel, 
 
 Who searched for beasts, and told this tale. 
 They said, while passing through a wood 
 Where land and timber both were good, 
 
 They deemed they heard some person wail. 
 And found, behind a log did lurk, 
 Nearby the trail, old Shamma Shirk 
 
 (It seem'd that he had found the den). 
 His eyes were blear'd, his nose was red 
 (Old Bruin's paws had struck his head), 
 
 But still he recognized the men. 
 
 149 
 
They raised him up,— he could not stand; 
 But laid it to the level land, 
 
 Which reeled, and threw him down again. 
 So to the trail again they took. 
 And followed 'till they crossed the brook 
 
 And came into a barren plain 
 
 Where lived a man called Snakes-in-boots. 
 And there the owls began to hoot, 
 
 And here were signs of woe and pain. 
 But soon they come into a quag, 
 And barely crossed on slippery log. 
 
 This quag lay near the barren plain. 
 
 Then, coming near a copse and glen. 
 They saw some skeletons of men; 
 
 Heard others groaning, too, with pain. 
 They each one guessed the den was near 
 (And guessed aright, it does appear), 
 
 The object of pursuit they gain. 
 
 They rope round Moderation tie. 
 And sent him 'neath the copse to spy. 
 
 But ere he reached the Upas shade. 
 The poisoned breeze had struck him down; 
 So there he wallowed on the ground, 
 
 For Bruin's paws had struck his head. 
 
 They held the rope to pull him back,— 
 But when they pulled, the rope was slack! 
 
 The beast had snapped their string in two. 
 They had their labor for their pains; 
 For in his den old Bruin reigns. 
 
 Takes Moderation with him, too. 
 
 Hearing the hum of Misery's mill, 
 They turned their eyes beneath the hill; 
 
 Saw rising from the gulch a smoke. 
 All sorts of beasts of prey they heard; 
 Saw flocks of every unclean bird. 
 
 There swarms of cormorants did croak. 
 
 Turning about they fled with fright 
 And sped them home for it was night. 
 
 I dreamt when they their story told. 
 It seemed to me such horrid sight, 
 It almost waked me up with fright; 
 
 I shuddered and my blood ran cold. 
 
 So, hearing of the dens of death 
 And murky gulch that lies beneath. 
 
 And life-destroying Upas tree; 
 Of beasts of prey, and Misery's mill, 
 And stream which runs it 'neath the hill. 
 
 And many more such sights as these; 
 
 150 
 
Of her who lives beneath the hill, 
 Whose house is on the way to hell; 
 
 Of Bruin, licensed now to roam; 
 Of him who keeps the horrid den, 
 And elfs who lure the sons of men; 
 
 And all of these despoiling home; 
 
 I said, "I'll go myself, and see 
 What all this talk and noise can be." 
 
 For all these things gave great alarm 
 When I heard Mister Marvel tell 
 Of men, whom I had known so well. 
 
 To whom the beasts had done such harm. 
 
 I fixed me up that very night, 
 And started off next morn at light; 
 
 I dreamt I took my dog with me 
 And soon I crossed the forest brook; 
 Behind each log for Shirk did look,— 
 
 I wondered which the log could be. 
 
 The hovel saw of Snakes-in-boots, 
 His hut where owls of hunger hoot; 
 
 His tattered wife and starving brood; — 
 But still I traveled on in haste 
 And came into the sandy waste, 
 
 As soon as I had left the wood. 
 
 So on I went, and came at last 
 To Moderation sticking fast. 
 
 And sinking in the morass quag. 
 I tried my best to pull him out, 
 But failed to do it, though quite stout. 
 
 He sunk, despite me and my dog. 
 
 Just then I felt a poisoned breeze, — 
 'Twas blowing from the Upas trees. 
 
 I shook and trembled then, to think 
 I was so near this horrid den. 
 Where lay the mangled forms of men. 
 
 I seemed to be on ruin's brink. 
 
 I dreamt the road was steep indeed, 
 Which to the dens of death did lead. 
 
 I feared to travel in this road. 
 It seemed that I was near a place, 
 Of all, most destitute of grace; 
 
 A place where dwells the cursed of God. 
 
 Just then, before me in a sink. 
 Close to the gulch of Misery's brink, 
 
 I saw the Upas tree of death. 
 'Twas overgrown with biars green, 
 Which Bruin's den from light does screen. 
 
 'Twas dark as shades of death beneath. 
 
 151 
 
I heard the wolves of hunger howl; 
 The hootings of the midnight owl. 
 
 The hissing serpent neath did crawl. 
 I saw the Vulture take her prey. 
 There swarms of cormorants did stay, — 
 
 And vampire clutched against the wall. 
 
 But oh! this den! this horrid den! 
 I can't describe it with my pen, — 
 
 What muttered curses there I heard! 
 And curses on the place did fall, — 
 I saw the writing on the wall — 
 
 'Tis cage of every unclean bird. 
 
 Heard prowlings of wild beast of prey; 
 Heard hideous noises, night and day. 
 
 There spooks, and evil spirits dwell; 
 There reason's citadel is stormed. 
 And men are into devils formed; — 
 
 'Tis only second door from hell. 
 
 A mighty conflict here I saw, 
 
 'Twixt those who keep and break God's law. 
 
 While some upon the Upas chopped. 
 And tried this fatal tree to fell. 
 And stop these dens of death and hell, 
 
 Miss License Party kept it propped. 
 
 Near to the gulch of endless woe. 
 Where streams of wretchedness did flow, 
 
 For beasts and License party, stood 
 Some Bishops and some L.L.D.'s, 
 To help hold up the Upas trees; 
 
 Served License Party stead of God. 
 
 Thus, while they stood in their own light 
 And voted wrong, and called it right, 
 
 Opened the sluice way of perdition. 
 They used their best influence every day 
 And tried their best to drive away 
 
 From his chopping. Prohibition, 
 
 Who fought the beast with all his might. 
 And many with him joined the fight; 
 
 And Elder Good-man with the rest. 
 They took their cause in prayer to God 
 To help them stop this stream of blood. 
 
 "From dens and Upas give us rest" 
 
 I heard, and joined their prayer to God, 
 For I was in a praying mood. 
 
 I prayed, and chopped still, as I prayed. 
 My brother's cause my own I made. 
 For beasts had dragged 'neath Upas shade, 
 
 And Bruin's paws were on him laid. 
 
 152 
 
I prayed and fought the live-long night, 
 Nor ever thought of dark or light. 
 
 My brother's cause to me was near; 
 I wished from Misery's gulch to save, 
 And rescue from the Upas grave, — 
 
 He was to me so very dear. 
 
 I saw a multitude of men 
 Beneath the Upas shade just then; 
 
 Some to the country jail did go; 
 To prisons dreamt that others went; 
 To poor-house many more were sent, 
 
 While some slid down the gulch below. 
 
 On gibbets high I saw some swing. 
 Which made Miss License Party sing; 
 
 But all who dwell in Bruin's den 
 Will find, I dreamt, when 'tis too late. 
 That they have missed the'narrow gate, — 
 
 Will find that they are ruined men. 
 
 We soon should stop this horrid work 
 But for such men as Shamma Shirk, 
 
 Who hand to hand do join with sin; 
 Who use their might for dens and beasts. 
 While on their children Bruin feasts. 
 
 But spite of these, our cause shall win. 
 
 Dreamt Sham and License Party came 
 Strolling by with numerous train,* 
 
 All armed with bows and arrows. 
 Dreamt I said to each "Good day," 
 And said to Shamma "Whither away?" 
 
 He replied, "We are hunting sparrows." 
 
 I said, "That's rather smallish game 
 For people of such noted fame." 
 
 Then Shamma Shirk did rave and rant. 
 Just then, I heard a piercing cry. 
 Old Shamma's child was carried by 
 
 In the clutches of a cormorant. 
 
 I showed to Shirk his little Jim; 
 Prayed him to help me rescue him. 
 
 Shirk answered, "Jim was all to blame," 
 Said, "Sparrows kill those birdies wild. 
 More dear to me than Jim, my child." 
 
 So on he rode to shoot small game. 
 
 *Thousands march under Miss License 
 Party's banner whose children are carried to 
 ruin by the licensed liquor traffic. 
 
 153 
 
I saw them march 'till out of sight, 
 Chasing sparrows in their flight. 
 
 They rode along o'er field and plain; 
 (Sham heeded not the cries of Jirn, 
 It seemed to make no odds to him) ; 
 
 Rode on through fields of standing grain. 
 
 Dreamt then I joined a little crew 
 And tried with them what we could do 
 
 To catch and slay the cormorant, 
 It seemed to me so fierce and wild, 
 Devouring thus my neighbor's child. 
 
 Without Sham's help, it seems, we can't. 
 
 Sham rides a-past with lofty air 
 (Tho sometimes he does offer prayer 
 
 That all the cormorants might die). 
 How plain to us it does appear 
 That Shamma Shirk is not sincere! 
 
 His actions give his prayers the lie. - 
 
 I dreamt, while the dens of destruction 
 
 Were greatly increased in the land. 
 That this party without introduction 
 
 Came forward and took a firm stand. 
 And I dreamt that they made some advances 
 
 In their way on the dens and the beast 
 From the Pine-tree state into Kansas,— 
 
 Dreamt the war first began in the East. 
 
 Mother Stewart with Betsy and Frances, 
 
 I dreamt, in themselves formed a trio, — 
 Ere they routed the beasts out of Kansas, 
 
 First raided the state of Ohio. 
 Dreamt John, when he saw what condition 
 
 The people were in, through the land. 
 Shouldering the babe Prohibition, 
 
 Came forward and took the command. 
 
 While they marched to the tune Prohibition, 
 
 They rescued the wrecks of some men, 
 Whom they found in a wretched condition 
 
 Whom Bruin had dragged to his den. 
 There's a noble person, with others. 
 
 They restored unto reason again. 
 He and Raving Distracted were brothers, 
 
 I dreamt Snakes-in-boots was his name. 
 
 I dreamt the people they rescued. 
 
 Would never cease speaking their praise, — 
 For had not those beasts been subdued. 
 
 They never had mended .their ways. 
 
 154 
 
Dreamt that Snakes-in-boots came forward, 
 As soon as he heard they were come; 
 
 Joined and marched in their rear ward; 
 Gladly stepped to the beat of their drum. 
 
 Said but for this party of heroes 
 
 His habits he'd never have quit; 
 Would have died without leaving his errors, 
 
 With his feet in the hole of the pit. 
 Where hundreds and thousands of others 
 
 Wrere ruined, made wretched, or slain. 
 Said he and Raving Distracted were brothers, 
 
 Though he never should see him again. 
 
 "If your party had only come sooner, 
 
 He might have been rescued," he said. 
 But he fell 'neath the paws of old Brum; 
 
 Has been dragged to his den and is dead. 
 Said his heart grew sick and pained him 
 
 When he thought of King Alcohol's reign, 
 And then of his dearest relations 
 
 Who in such horrible manner were slain. 
 
 They asked how he saw his condition, 
 
 And made his escape from the den, 
 And to take such a noble position. 
 
 To stand up with the truest of men. 
 He replied, "There's a real connection 
 
 Twixt the dens and the Pit that's unseen, 
 And 'tis fresh in my own recollection, 
 
 How near to that pit I have been!" 
 
 "Now Apollyon, who rules in both places. 
 
 Was growing quite angry, I saw. 
 And I heard him tell folks to their faces, 
 
 *You can never prohibit by law.' 
 "I'd been taking my sottish life easy, 
 
 With my feet in the hole of the pit. 
 Till Apollyon made Denkeeper crazy,— 
 
 And that waked me, now don't you forget! 
 
 "As soon as you hoisted your banner 
 
 And started to march down our street, 
 Old Denkeeper showed, by his manner. 
 
 He had fears that your army would beat. 
 "I remember I heard a commotion; 
 
 And smoke from the pit did ascend. 
 Politicians then raged, like an ocean 
 
 When its casts up its dirt and its sand. 
 
 "Somehow I discerned your position. 
 And discovered the distance was wide 
 
 'Twixt the dens and young Prohibition 
 And I saw I was on the wrong side. 
 
 155 
 
"I had seen many comrades go downward 
 To ruin; go swift from my sight, — 
 
 But by this, I never was roused up 
 To open my eyes to the light. 
 
 "When both armies engaged in the conflict, 
 
 I discovered the false from the true. 
 When I saw I was fighting for Tophet 
 
 I turned round and came over to you. 
 "I had thought to myself, 'I'm a free man!' 
 
 And tried to believe it was true. 
 When you called me a slave to my habit 
 
 I felt rather coldly towards you. 
 
 "But when you took hold of my brothers 
 
 And turned them from sots into men, 
 I made up my mind, with some others, 
 
 I would turn and help stop up the den. 
 "It was plain, while the dens were a-standing, — 
 
 There was nothing but ruin for me. 
 And as plain to my own understanding, 
 
 If the dens were all stopped I was free. 
 
 " 'Twas the sight, which to me was so sick'ning, 
 
 Of so many enslaved by the den. 
 Which my steps has been constantly quick'- 
 ning." 
 
 Said Betsy to Snakes-in-boots then, 
 "No peace to my mind, nor enjoyment, — 
 
 I no sleep to my eyelids could get, — 
 My hands had refused all employment. 
 
 While my friends were in Denkeeper's net. 
 
 "Sure, I never had started out raiding 
 As an outcast 'mong strangers to roam. 
 
 Nor this noblest of causes been aiding 
 If the beast had not entered my home. 
 
 "In the sunshine of friends I'd been living^ 
 'Till those friends were dragged down to' the 
 den, — 
 
 But now, o'er their ruin I'm grieving; 
 'Tis all dark and no sunshine since then. 
 
 "Who were your friends?" he then asked her, 
 "And what were their names?" he then said, — 
 
 "Who have clouded and darkened your pathway 
 Those friends, which you mourn now as 
 dead." 
 
 She answering said, "There were hundreds 
 But 'twas the nearest of kindred," she said, 
 
 " 'Twas my Jim, carried off by the vultures. 
 But what started me first was my Ned." 
 
 156 
 
She then called the names of some others, 
 Of Rum-sucker, Blear-eyes, Stagger and Sot 
 
 "Hold on," he said, "for these were my broth- 
 ers, — 
 And I mourn when I think of their lot," 
 
 "But these were not all," answered Betsy, 
 "There was Whiskey-mouth, Wine-bibber, 
 Bloat, 
 
 Bloody-fingers, Beer-guzzle and Tipsy, 
 And Potato-nose in the same boat." 
 
 Said he, "It is sad; but these were relations. 
 And with them I've played many games; 
 
 But to keep them in good honest stations. 
 We called them by much smoother names. 
 
 "But how did you call them?" said Betsy, 
 "What names did you give to those men. 
 
 Who have perished, — have gone down to ruin, 
 Devoured by the beast and his den?" 
 
 "Rum-sucker was Take-a-drop," said he, 
 "Guzzle was Health-glass, you know, 
 
 Wine-bibber Drown-Sorrow, you see, 
 
 Stagger was Sure-footed" (dreamt it so). 
 
 "We called In-the-gutter, Rest-awhile; 
 
 Bloody-fingers was Own-self-defense, 
 And Whisky-mouth was Sweetest-smile; 
 
 Dram-beggar was Plead-well (in pretense). 
 
 "Spend-all was Pay-well (so I dreamed) 
 "Bloat, we called Corp'lent," he said, 
 
 "And Foul-mouth was Glib-tongue (it seemed) 
 Swill-tub was Moderation, but now he is 
 dead." 
 
 Said Betsy, "I've known scores by that name." 
 Then I dreamt that I thought of the quag; 
 
 How I tried to save the poor man; 
 
 How in vain I had tugged with my dog. 
 
 "What was the name which Denkeeper had?" 
 At this Snakes-in-boots opened his eyes. 
 
 And said, "Tho he is the worst of the bad. 
 We call his name Legal Enterprise." 
 
 Then Snakes-in-boots proceeded to tell 
 What name Red Potato-nose they call; 
 
 Dreamt he said, "Before Sot went to hell, 
 That his name was the smoothest of all. 
 
 157 
 
"For he was a dead beat," said he, "I fear, 
 But they called him name Tipsy, that's all. 
 
 We called Raving Districted, Up-on-his-ear, 
 Potato-nose, Looking-healthy-and-well. 
 
 "And there's thousands and thousands of 
 others, 
 
 In the dens of destruction," he said, 
 "Let us hurry and rescue our J^rothers, — 
 
 If we tarry, they soon will be dead. 
 
 Dreamt this party of heroes trudged onward, 
 Their motto and banner unfurled; 
 
 I dreamt that they shouted their watchword, 
 "Deliv'rance from Dens, for the World." 
 
 Mid their hosts was young Prohibition, 
 And Johnny was holding his hand; 
 
 Frances Save-boy held honored position, 
 In the front of the battle did stand. 
 
 I dreamt they were all in plain hearing. 
 That Snakes-in-boots marched in the rear. 
 
 That Betsy and Johnny kept cheering 
 And telling their hosts not to fear. 
 
 Dreamt Sham and his Licensing party, 
 Went to mustering their bestial forces. 
 
 They sought to obtain new recruits 
 From the very basest of sources. 
 
 I dreamt that they marched at command 
 Of their general, the great Party press. 
 
 Beneath bloody shirt, their banner 
 False signal of danger and distress. 
 
 Dreamt Sham's minions took their position 
 Between the morass quag and the dens 
 
 Against Betsy and her boy. Prohibition, 
 Casting up earth-works for their defense. 
 
 Dreamt Prohibition left the quags below 
 And climbed to the heights of the land. 
 
 That in all his war he sought for to know 
 And knowing to follow the Lord's command. 
 
 So I dreamt that this army kept growing; 
 
 Kept increasing in numbers each day, 
 Though contrary winds still kept blowing, 
 
 From rum parties to drive them away. 
 
 But I dreamt they still kept up courage. 
 Well knowing their cause it was right, 
 
 That nothing could Betsy discourage, 
 Who to rescue relations did fight. 
 
 158 
 
Dreamt I saw this party look upward, — 
 'Twas for help from on high so it seemed; 
 
 For wisdom, their prayers they had offered, 
 To stop up the dens, so I dreamed. 
 
 So safely entrenched is young Prohibition, 
 Twixt the school house and church on the 
 hill. 
 
 On Zion's great heights he takes his position; 
 From thence throws his bombs to kill. 
 
 As they marched up to take their position. 
 The youth and the children did sing, 
 
 As they marched out to join Prohibition 
 And they made all the welkin to ring. 
 
 And old Denkeeper heard their sweet music, 
 As they marched to the beat of the drum; 
 And he shook in his boots like an aspen; 
 Said it boded no good for the den. 
 For they sang of a time that is coming. 
 
 That good time in no distant day. 
 When the Upas trees all shall be withered, 
 
 And those beasts and their dens pass away. 
 
 CHILDREN'S SONG OF WELCOME 
 TO THE ARMY OF REFORM. 
 
 We welcome this army of heroes 
 
 And we boys will scon grow into men 
 Then with ballots we will slay old Denkeeper, 
 
 And with them we will shut up his den. 
 Many more will follow our footsteps; 
 
 Ten thousand are waiting to go, — 
 Hurrah! for our young Prohibition! 
 
 Who is eager to charge, on the foe. 
 
 Hurrah for our young Prohibition! 
 Who has taken this lofty position, — 
 Who will save both the boys and the men 
 From the curse of the beast and his den! 
 
 I dreamt then I saw Prohibition; 
 
 That he came right out in plain view. 
 Dreamt he told to the people his mission; 
 
 Told what Providence sent him to do; 
 Said he came to make war on the traffic 
 
 And stop these dens of death, too. 
 
 Said, "That's what I'm aiming to do." 
 
 159 
 
And I laughed in my dream when I saw him, 
 And I said I would join with him, too. 
 
 Then I joined him and marched 'neath his ban- 
 ner, 
 Joined the war,— to fight it clean through. 
 
 He was graceful in looks and in manner 
 And as bold as a lion was, too, 
 In telling what he purposed to do. 
 
 I dreamt when he first began talking. 
 
 But a few would listen to him. 
 He said he was sent to persuade them 
 
 To join him against this great sin. 
 And he said he must try and have patience; 
 
 Asked folks to have patience with him, 
 
 Till he drives from the land this great sin. 
 
 Dreamt he went to each class of the people; 
 
 Did all sorts of folks interview; 
 That he stood 'neath the belfry and steeple 
 
 Had a talk with the ministers, too; 
 That he asked if supporting rum parties 
 
 Was the very best thing they could do. 
 
 And said, 'That's poor business for you." 
 
 Said, "You are esteemed for your wisdom; 
 
 All people are a gazing on you; 
 A spectacle to all who're beholding. 
 
 "Be careful," said he, "what you do! 
 For whichever road you may travel. 
 
 Many others will go that way too, — 
 
 For they'll keep your example in view. 
 
 "People thought, when you passed resolutions. 
 You meant what you said,— thought you true; 
 
 They thought when you said that to license 
 The selling of drinks was a sin. 
 
 That you meant the destruction of dramshops, 
 But you've gone right on voting that in 
 Which you once resolved was a sin." 
 
 Said, "Children are asking their parents 
 
 How preachers can be so untrue; 
 How preachers can vote with the hoodlums; 
 
 After so much resolving from you." 
 Said, "It ought to set you to blushing 
 
 When children say such things of you, 
 
 It is so inconsistent to do." 
 
 Dreamt many ministers thanked him; 
 
 Resolved their whole duty to do; 
 Consistency, said, was a jewel. 
 
 And was seemly for all Christians, too. 
 
 160 
 
They said that they felt it their duty 
 To help him to slaughter this foe,— 
 Yes,— resolved their whole duty to do. 
 
 Dreamt the pious, who're seeking God's king- 
 dom; 
 
 Were combining against this great foe, 
 To stop the dram-seller's dominion, 
 
 Should this take a whole life-time to do. 
 Though contrary winds may keep blowing, 
 
 Many tears be destined to flow, 
 
 'Tis our duty we're called on to do. 
 
 Prohibition then called to the voters 
 To vote for the right and the true. 
 
 To use their franchise like Christians; 
 Said 't would dry up the rivers of woe. 
 
 It would visit the orphans and widows, 
 And wipe off their tears in their flow, 
 "That's what Jesus would have you to do." 
 
 I dreamt that he came to the women. 
 And said that he knew they were true. 
 
 He said, "You are sisters and mothers 
 Of those who are marching to woe. 
 
 Many husbands are now in the dram-shop. 
 While others are tempted to go;" 
 "I will now give you something to do." 
 
 "Go to all parts of our domain! 
 
 Take, too, your wits along with you. 
 Be up and a doing, my sisters. 
 
 Take the spirit of patience along, too. 
 Go forth to arouse the people,— 
 
 'Tis this work I am giving to you." 
 
 Then I dreamt that he spake to the children; 
 
 Spake kindly to all the dear lambs. 
 And he promised to send Frances Save-boy 
 
 To organize them into bands. 
 Dreamt he then introduced Miss Frances 
 
 And gave her the work of her hands. 
 
 Said, "There's much that upon you depends." 
 
 He went to see Mrs. White House. 
 
 Dreamt I saw him stand by her door. 
 That he heard her carousing with Bacchus, 
 
 With King Alcohol's friends by the score. 
 Dreamt Alcohol gave her great riches; 
 
 In her lap he poured a great store,— 
 
 Least ninety per cent if not more. 
 
 161 
 
 (11) 
 
Of Prohibition she took no notice, 
 Though loudly he rapped at her door. 
 
 She romped and reveled with Bacchus 
 As she often had reveled before. 
 
 Dreamt I saw King Alcohol kiss her; 
 That Saloon then entered her door,— 
 Her parlor, and furthermore danced on her 
 floor. 
 
 Prohibition then went to see Congress, 
 
 As many had gone there before. 
 Congress hit him a clip on his forehead 
 
 And kicked him away from his door; 
 Said he, "I'm godfather to Dram-shop, 
 
 And you surely ought to know more 
 
 Than to be hanging about my door." 
 
 Prohibition then saw Mr. Statesman; 
 
 Fell down at his feet to implore. 
 But he said, "You are much to late, — man! 
 
 Mr. Dram-shop has got in before. 
 I've no room for you both in my parlor. 
 
 And can't have you about, any more." 
 
 He raved at Prohibition, and swore. 
 
 "You're quite proud, now," said Prohibition, 
 
 "But I trust after awhile, by God's grace, 
 I shall reach your lofty position, 
 
 And with honor to God fill your place. 
 It will take me some time to get there, — 
 
 Like a flint tho, I'm setting my face; 
 
 I'm traveling that way by God's grace. 
 
 "You make laws to prohibit the sparrows 
 From killing small birds that are wild; 
 
 Send people to shoot them with arrows. 
 While this cormorant slaughters your child. 
 
 *Tis horrid the way you are doing, — 
 
 For with blood your hands are defiled 
 And perhaps, — 'tis the blood of your child." 
 
 Dreamt he said, "Great sir, it is fearful! 
 
 The account you will have to hand in. 
 When you license those places of murder, 
 
 You partake of their crimes, — of their sin. 
 Your enactments start people to ruin; 
 
 'Tis your acts which are shoving them in; — 
 
 On your hands is the guilt of their sin." 
 
 Through the land. Prohibition went marching 
 
 And forming a party quite new. 
 Dreamt I heard him tell his adherents 
 
 They should vote for an issue that's true. 
 
 162 
 
Said, "Our statesmen prohibit the sparrows,— 
 They worked till they got a bill through; 
 
 But they dare not attack the dram-shop,— 
 They have left that for me and for you. 
 
 "They are dreadfully down on the sparrows 
 For killing the birdie that's wild, 
 
 But they feed and fatten the monster. 
 Who in our home's devouring the child. 
 
 "Stay! what do you think of such statesmen? 
 
 Do you think that such parties will do? 
 Or turn from such parties disgusted, 
 
 To vote for a party that's true." 
 
 Then he shouted aloud to the soldiers; 
 
 He spake to the blue and the gray, 
 "Go bury forever dead issues, 
 
 *Tis the counsel I give you today. 
 
 "Shake hands and the chasm bridge over, 
 *Tis the very best thing you can do. 
 
 'Twill unite all the people together. 
 To combine on an issue that's true." 
 
 Then he came again to the women 
 
 And I hearkened to hear what he'd say, 
 
 And he called it a very good omen 
 When together for him they did pray. 
 
 Said, "By nature we each have a franchise, 
 
 But tyrants have cut it in two, 
 They have given your half to the hoodlums, 
 
 And have left none at all for you." 
 
 So I dreamt that a maid came to hearken 
 
 Who was called the W. C. T. U., 
 Who said she would vouch for the women, 
 
 That they their whole duty would do. 
 
 To devour, they have licensed a demon. 
 Have withholden our franchise, too; 
 
 But we've brains and we surely will use them. 
 In supporting a party that's true. 
 
 "We have homes, and we mean to protect them. 
 We have zeal, — we're enthusiasts, too. 
 
 We are marching abreast of this issue, — 
 Will encourage a party that's true. 
 
 "For the present we have not a franchise. 
 What you say is most certainly true; 
 
 But we've tongues and we surely will use them 
 For an issue and party that's true." 
 
 163 
 
Prohibition then prayed with the children. 
 
 And on them he laid his kind hands. 
 Then he told their grown sisters and Frances, 
 
 "Organize them into bands." 
 
 Said he, "I'm engaged in a conflict, — 
 
 I shall need them to strengthen my hands; 
 
 These children will make valiant soldiers, 
 So bring them up, training in bands." 
 
 Then I heard them hurrah for their leader, 
 And they told him just what they would do; 
 
 So, suiting their words to the action. 
 They joined with a party that's true. 
 
 Prohibition and John, with his hatchet, 
 Then, I dreamt, pitched into old Sham, 
 
 And they made such a noise and racket, 
 That I laughed right out in my dream. 
 
 And I dreamt that the beasts were all slain, 
 That their dens were all stopped in the land; 
 
 And the bones of the army of Sham 
 Were scattered and strewn o'er the land. 
 
 Dreamt I saw on a shaft an inscription, 
 So tried to decipher their fame; 
 
 And I searched with the closest inspection, 
 But nothing was written but Sham. 
 
 Dreamt our hero took higher position 
 For I saw him ascending a throne. 
 
 And the people all praised Prohibition, 
 But the ashes of Sham trampled down. 
 
 Prohibition then called me to him, 
 And talked with me too, it did seem; 
 
 When I offered some service to do him 
 He set me to telling my dream. 
 
 Said, the reason he asked me to tell it 
 Was because it would surely come true; 
 
 And thousands of people who hear it 
 Will vote for an issue that's true. 
 
 Then I dreamt Prohibition, our hero, 
 The hosts of Sham was a chaffing. 
 
 And it pleased me and tickled me so, 
 I awoke from my rev'ry a laughing. 
 
 So now I have filled my commission, 
 
 In telling my dream unto you. 
 Now I ask you to help Prohibition, 
 
 In the rescuing of others from woe. 
 
 Come join this brave party of heroes! 
 
 In trying to stop up this den; 
 From woes, from wounds, and from bruises 
 
 Save women and children and men. 
 
 164 
 
OLD JOE. 
 
 "Joe, what fer so fast am yer runnin, 
 An' lookin' sorter pleased an' cunnin'?" 
 
 "Oh, I'm cumd fer de matches, sur nuff, 
 honey, 
 Dat nigger dat am livin' on de ridge 
 Am sure gwin burn de railroad bridge, 
 
 An fer de matches he pays me de money." 
 
 "What fer yer dcin' dat way, Joe? 
 'Tain't right ter burn bridges, yer know. 
 
 It mout put folkes lives in danger." 
 "Why, honey, dis yer nigger what lib on de 
 
 ridge 
 Say he gwin sure burn de railroad bridge. 
 
 He gwine git de m.atches to Get fire frum 
 stranger." 
 
 "An' dem big preachers gwin start away 
 To giner'l confrence 'bout de fust of May. 
 
 An day mus' hab money fer to take um." 
 "Why, what fer, nov/ tell me fust, Joe, 
 What fer to giner'l confrence day mus' go?" 
 
 "Day need res'luticns an days gwin to make 
 um. 
 
 "Dat nigger gwin ter set dat yer bridge afire. 
 He sez an' he ain't nebber least bit ob a liar. 
 Kase fer dem yer matches he pays me a 
 dollar. 
 'Tain't no use at all nov/ old 'om.an, 
 Roun' dis yer fack to be a squormin', 
 
 Kase he's a cummin' fer de matches up de 
 holler." 
 
 "Now, just look here, my old man Joe! 
 Ise hab yer to be tellin', fore yer go. 
 
 Which am de worst sort ob killin'? 
 Sellin' to dat yer nigger v/hat's livin' on de 
 
 ridge, 
 Uh box ob matches to fire dat yer bridge. 
 
 Or votin' to license udders ter bs a sellin?" 
 
 "Why dear me, good land ob massy! 
 If my ole 'oman don't been gittin' sassy. 
 
 Don't ole nigger Joe hab de right ob Eellin' 
 Dat yer nigger on de ridge er m.atch 
 So's he can hab it his ov/n fer ter scratch, 
 
 Thout yer be'n cusin' me ob killin'? 
 
 165 
 
"An yer know I can't work to yern money, — 
 An' yer know I needs some change, honey! 
 
 An' dat am saxifaxion for de matches, 
 Kase dat am a speckerlation trade 
 Wid dat yer nigger I'se been made, — 
 
 Kase one whole dollar dat box fetches." 
 
 "You's eatin' plenty nuff chicken pie, Joe; 
 Why can't yer work side ob me wid de hoe?" 
 
 "Kase, whir my eatatite's good ebery time 
 Somehow rudder, my good ole honey! 
 Fer de sake ob yarnin' some money 
 
 Dis nigger's workatite ain't worf a dime, — 
 
 "An' kase I'm needin' some change, just now, 
 
 honey. 
 An' kase dem preachers am spectin' de money, 
 An' if I don't sell de matches some one'll be 
 
 sellin, — 
 An honey! if dis yere is wrong, or if it is right, 
 He's gwin to burn dat yer bridge dis yer night, 
 Eben if some folks it mout be a killin'." 
 
 "I wish I'd a hid dem yar matches dare, Joe. 
 Kase I nebber wants yer to take em an' go, — 
 
 Fer it seems like yer a helpin' to murder." 
 "Why, he's gwine to burn it now, anyhow, 
 
 honey! 
 An I might jist as well hab de money; 
 
 If 'twasn't fer dat I'd not go any furder." 
 
 "But den, Joe, we orter be zistin de debil, 
 An nebber be doin' de least bit ob evil, 
 
 Kase de good Lord am lookin' an sees all we 
 do." 
 "But don't yer see, jist now, my ole honey, 
 Dat ebryone am tryin' to git er lettle money; 
 
 An twixt dem evils choos de least ob de two? 
 
 "For ebry one knows 'twould be mighty site 
 wus, 
 
 Fer er stranger to git dat dollar dan us, — 
 Jis open dem yer eyes, my ole honey. 
 
 Say which ob de evils ud better suit you, — 
 
 An' which ob dese tings we'd better do- 
 Keep de matches, or git that yer money?" 
 
 "What sort ob reslutions day makin' ob, Joe? 
 Dem yer preachers, when ter confrence day 
 
 go?" 
 — "Why, honey, 'tis 'gainst de posum an coon, 
 'Tis, honey, as sure as ebber yer born, — 
 'Tis 'genst de coons a eatin' ob de corn, 
 
 Deys gwin make reslutions against em soon. 
 
 166 
 
"An' honey, deys resolve like de dickens 
 Genst de posums a nabbin' de chickens, 
 
 Fer dese are dredful bad varments, yer 
 know." 
 "Now Joe! if dem preachers was only willin', 
 Dem yer varments day mout be a killin' 
 
 Stid ob dere 'zolvin I'm a reckenin', Joe." 
 
 "Why honey, days a 'zolvin to let em all run 
 Kase to kill em ud spile all der fun 
 
 Ob makin' dem yer big 'zolvins, yer know." 
 "Why, Joe, dem yer varments ud be runnin' 
 
 loose. 
 An' be a totin' off a chicken or a goose, 
 
 If day neber was 'zolvin 'gainst em Joe. 
 
 "But while de cull'd folks am 'zolvin, Joe, 
 Fer what de white folks to confrence den go?" 
 
 "Why, honey, while we 'zolve 'ginst possum 
 an coon, 
 Dem yer white preachers t'gether '11 run, 
 An', giggle an' have just as much fun. 
 
 In 'zolvin and rezolvin 'gainst dat yer saloon. 
 
 "An' days means all jist der same, ebry one 
 Jist to keep up a 'zolvin and letin' em run. 
 
 So now my old 'oman I've told yer de truf. 
 Now put dose dere actions and 'zolvins toged- 
 
 der, 
 An', honey, jist kempare one wid de udder. 
 
 An' figer it up an' it'll give yer de proof." 
 
 "Why Joe, I dunno t'all how to figger, 
 But look yonder, Joe, thar goes a nigger! 
 
 An' he's got wid him a ax an a dog. 
 An* he's a saunterin' aroun' and aroun' 
 Thar, a follerin' after dat ole bawlin' houn' 
 
 An' a huntin' fer possums in ebery ole log. 
 
 "Oh, see dar, Joe! jis look a yander, 
 He's a lugin' away our bigges' old gander," 
 "I see 'im honey, 'tis de nigger ut libs on de 
 ridge. 
 Hello dar, you stealin' nigger! been cotchin' 
 
 our goose — 
 Better bin turnin' 'roun' an' lettin' 'im loose- 
 Else I'll 'port on yer 'bout gwin burn de 
 bridge." 
 
 "Well, 'twas dis yer way, I say niggah Joe, 
 I was a cumin' fer dem yer matches, yer know. 
 
 An* I seed dem gooses er flopin' an runnin' — 
 So I say, 'dar's some varment ob a beast 
 Gwin' ter make ob dem yer gooses er feast,' 
 
 So I sez, "I better take im to my ole 'oman. 
 
 167 
 
"Fer sure some varment was boun' fer to cotch 
 
 So I sez, 'dis nigger ud much better fotch it, 
 Kase it lays jist twixt de possums an' me,' 
 So I sez to de houn', 'Jist shet up yer jaw, 
 It u'll be better eatin' cooked nor 'tis raw; 
 Be still ole dog, an' de bones yourn shall be.' 
 
 "An' now if you'v any human nater left in yer 
 
 Joe, 
 You'll hev to let me tak' dis yer gander an go. 
 
 Kaze er fox, or a possum ud had it sure pop. 
 Now, you see ut I'm jest not mistaken, 
 Fer it never wuz stealin', but jes' simply takin', 
 
 To keep dem ole varments frum eatin' im up. 
 
 "An' now, Joe, if my 'ligion you're a-doubtin', 
 Jist kum ter meetin' an' hear me a-shoutin', 
 
 Kaze I jist took de bird to be savin' his life. 
 An' to keep de varments frum eatin' it up, 
 Ter make soup fer de chiluns an bones fer de 
 pup, 
 
 An' ter please de ole 'oman, my wife," 
 
 MORAL. 
 
 When for wrong doing we form an excuse. 
 We deceive our ownselves and others abuse. 
 
 We may ourselves justify, but God knows 
 every heart. 
 Examine me Lord, try my reins now and see. 
 And know if there is any evil way, Lord, in me. 
 
 And lead in thy way, that I may not depart. 
 
 "Fer what are you a saunterin' roun'," says Joe, 
 "An' a huntin' varments whereber yer go?" 
 
 "Why, Joe, dem cullud preachers been 'zolvin 
 *Tis sin, ter let dem yer possum an coon 
 Run loose, longside de licens saloon; 
 
 An' in dis nigger's wool its a bin a 'volvin'. 
 
 "If 'tain't de berry best ting now to be done, 
 Fer to go at em wid my dog, 'n ax an' my gun, 
 
 An' try ef I can't thin out dem ranks." 
 "But nigger, jes looky here," answered Joe, 
 "If yer a gwin ter sarve dem yer varment so, 
 
 Dem yer zolvin' preachers ull be callin' yer 
 cranks." 
 
 Then, says Joe, to the man with the gander, 
 "De white folks's preacher's a-comin' right 
 yander. 
 
 168 
 
Hello, white preacher! I'se gib yer some 
 thanks, 
 Dis yer nigger's cotchin' possum and coon. 
 Ain't dat about as bad's votin' agens' de saloon, 
 
 Don't we orter call de coon catchers cranks? 
 
 "Fer while yo'n was 'zolvin to licens is sin, 
 'Gainst possums an coons we 'zolve de same 
 ting. 
 You'ns 'zolve mity powerful agens de saloon 
 An' we'ns 'zolve sam.e agens possum an' coon. 
 Bofe us waz 'zolvin' jes only fer fun, 
 
 Bofe meanin' ter let dese ole varments all 
 run." 
 
 Then the white conference preacher replied to 
 
 old Joe, 
 "When we white preachers to conference go, 
 We resolve against the worst thing in the 
 land. 
 For while we're resolving against the saloon. 
 Niggers only resolve against possom and coon. 
 Still, with all cur resolving we're letting 
 them stand." 
 
 "Yes, de white preacher 'zolvins am a gran' 
 
 sit biger. 
 But dat doesn't cut bery much ob a figer. 
 
 Since bofe togedder was made jes fer fun* 
 You'ns say 'tis a sin to license de saloon. 
 An' we'ns de same, genst de possum and coon, 
 
 But 'tis all ob a size, since we let em all run. 
 
 "Bofe de white conference preacher an nigger, 
 Mout do something much better an' bigger. 
 
 If you'ns ud clean vote out de saloon. 
 Stead uv mixin' yerselfs wid monopolist ranks 
 An' callin' de opposers of saloons all cranks. 
 
 An' if we'ns ud catch all de possum an coon. 
 
 "Fer while we bofe are rezolvin on paper 
 De folks dey tink it a farce ob a caper, 
 
 An' 'tis jes sumpin like self stultication 
 Our dignawty as preachers we seem fer to sink 
 And mak our perfeshun ob Christians to stink 
 
 In de noses ob dis yer critical nation." 
 
 "What you have said. Uncle Joe, is all very 
 
 true; 
 We resolve a great deal but 'tis little we do. 
 
 What we resolved against license was right. 
 Our resolution against the accursed saloon. 
 And yours against the opossum and coon, — 
 But we both lacked courage against them to 
 f^ght. 
 
 169 
 
"May the Lord have mercy upon us today, 
 And help us to do as well as to say, 
 
 And not blow ourselves out in vain resolu- 
 tion, 
 Discouraging those who suppose that we're 
 
 true. 
 But as we resolve, Lord, help us to do, 
 
 And our doing will cause a great revolution." 
 
 "Beats all," says Joe, "my good white brodder. 
 How you'ns and we'uns do zembel each odder; 
 
 In our zolutions we are jist ob a color seems 
 to me, 
 An I'm wid yer in yer confessin' an prayin' 
 An' dat workin's is better'n 'zolvin an sayin'. 
 
 An' seekin' from odders so much popilarity. 
 
 "An' yer confessin' and prayin' sets me to 
 
 shoutin', 
 Now tell rhe so's I'll nebber be a doubtin' 
 
 Why am' it when we 'zolve dat license is sin 
 We'ns against dem yer possom an coon 
 An' you'ns 'gainst dat yer open saloon, 
 
 We'uns all turn roun' an' vote dem all in?" 
 
 "Well, Joe, since you have put this question so 
 
 square, 
 I will try to answer it honest and fair; 
 
 After we resolved that to license was sin 
 We went to election with drunken McCarty, 
 And helped put in office a licensing party. 
 With saloon men we shouted when their 
 party went in. 
 
 "I have told you the truth instead of a lie, 
 So now. Uncle Joe, I will bid you good-bye, 
 
 Since I take you to be a good honest fellow. 
 We both have confessed our faults to each 
 
 other," 
 So shaking Joe's hand he called him his brother 
 And confessed that their actions were both 
 of one color. 
 
 "Good-bye," said Joe, to the conference 
 
 preacher, 
 "An' I'll spect your zample to be a good 
 teacher; 
 Fer in dis nigger's wool it keeps er 'volvin', 
 Dat bofe you'ns and we'ns orto remember, 
 Frum de fust ob de year to de last of December 
 To practise dose tings what we was a 
 'zolvin." 
 
 170 
 
But with all their resolves to do what was 
 
 right, 
 They were both of a color, both the black and 
 
 the white. 
 For they both slunk away into licensing 
 
 ranks, 
 Both went to the polls with the drunkard Mc- 
 
 Carty, 
 Both voted again for a licensing party. 
 Both kept calling Prohibitionists cranks. 
 
 Both called themselves temperance men, honest 
 
 and true, 
 Said we are just as good Prohibitionists as you, 
 While they run in a gang with drunken Mc- 
 Carty. 
 Both play the same prank and farce of a caper, 
 Against the saloon both resolving on paper 
 While they bow down and worship a licens- 
 ing party. 
 
 Both sporting with their own deceivings they 
 
 are. 
 Both run with the fox but hold with the hare. 
 What can we expect from such vacillating 
 men? 
 Is it not best with such men not to bother? 
 While they talk in one way and act in another. 
 They never will beard the beast in his den. 
 
 If in Prohibition seas we'd ever be a swimming 
 The franchise we must place in the hands of 
 our women. 
 They will use it to rescue their sons and 
 their brothers; 
 Come in fact to the rescue of all their relation; 
 Will banish the licensed saloon from our nation 
 And lift from the ditch their hug^bands and 
 fathers. 
 
 With women enfranchised we can depend on 
 Getting the initiative and the referendum. 
 'Twill result in the death of the licensed sa- 
 loon. 
 'Twill give us such laws as the people demand. 
 Drive the source of corruption and crime from 
 our land, 
 And we all will rejoice in this wonderful 
 boom. 
 
 171 
 
PART SECOND 
 
TRUE AND FALSE WISDOM. 
 
 Wisdom from above vs. Wisdom from be- 
 neath. — James, 3-17. 
 
 The wisdom that comes to us down from above 
 Is full of good fruits, of compassion and love. 
 It pities the suffering, their woes it would 
 
 share. 
 While it makes their condition a subject of 
 
 prayer; 
 
 And since it comes down from the Father 
 
 above. 
 Over their failings spreads its mantle of love. 
 This wisdom so precious, in the Savior's own 
 
 sight. 
 Which leads to the fountains of joy and of 
 
 light, 
 
 This heavenly wisdom, so pure and so free. 
 You can have for the asking, it is offered to 
 
 thee. 
 Why grope in the mountains of darkness and 
 
 sin, 
 When for asking, — the heavenly light will 
 
 break in? 
 
 But the wisdom which comes from the regions 
 
 beneath 
 Is all that the evil one has to bequeath 
 To his children, who walk in the broad way of 
 
 death. 
 And who know not the peace of the straight 
 
 narrow path; 
 
 This sensual wisdom leads to turmoil and strife, 
 While that from above leads to a peaceable Kfe. 
 
 Stretch your arms for that which will bring to 
 
 you rest! 
 Since He gives you your choice, why not have 
 
 the best? 
 God offers His treasures of grace unto thee; 
 Without money or price this treasure is free. 
 
 It will last all the years of eternity, too, — 
 This treasure so precious now offered to you. 
 Oh! make a wise choice while 'tis called today! 
 Opportunity with time is slipping away. 
 
 Nor mercy again will be offered for aye; 
 Then how will you stand in the judgment day? 
 What then will be the poor sinners' sure stay. 
 When earth with its wisdom is passing away? 
 
 174 
 
TWELVE SERMONS. 
 
 "I will preach you a sermon," 
 
 Said the shower of rain 
 As it came all refreshing, 
 
 On the fields of green grain. 
 "If you yield a supply 
 
 For the tiller of the sod. 
 Then I bring you a blessing 
 
 Which is sent you from God. 
 "But if you bring forth 
 
 But the thorn and the brier, 
 Then of God you'll be cursed 
 
 And be burned in the fire." 
 "I will preach you a sermon," 
 
 Said the ripe field of rye, 
 Gently nodding its head 
 
 To the folks passing by. 
 "I was made to be eaten 
 
 But not made to be drank. 
 To be ground into meal. 
 
 Not to be soaked in a tank. 
 "I am come as a blessing 
 
 When I'm run through the mill. 
 But I'm blighting and cursing 
 
 When I'm run through a still. 
 "If you make me into loaves 
 
 Your children shall have bread. 
 But if made into drink 
 
 I will starve them instead. 
 "Made in bread, I'm a servant. 
 
 He that eats me shall rule; 
 In drink, I'm a master 
 
 And the drinker's a fool. 
 
 "Remember! take warning 
 For my strength I'll employ 
 
 To make strong him that eats. 
 Him that drinks, I'll destroy." 
 
 "I will preach you a sermon," 
 
 Said the medicine in store. 
 "I'm a balsam in sickness; 
 
 A balm for each sore. 
 "If you take my advice 
 
 In powders and pills, 
 'Twill make strong and healthy; 
 
 Taken otherwise it kills." 
 
 "I will preach you a sermon," 
 Said the statute of the laws. 
 "Obey my instructions, 
 I will then plead your cause. 
 
 175 
 
"I protect honest persons, 
 
 I praise those who do v^ell. 
 But I punish the offender. 
 
 Fine or lock in a cell." 
 "I will preach you a sermon," 
 
 Said the Gospel of God, 
 "If by faith and repentance 
 You come to the Blood. 
 "If you turn from all folly, 
 If you do what is right. 
 If you're born of the Spirit, 
 
 If you walk in the light, 
 "Confessing your sins, 
 
 God is faithful and just; 
 He will pardon and cleanse; 
 
 He will honor your trust. 
 "But my pages condem.n 
 All the haters of light. 
 Since they choose it themselves 
 
 They'll have darkness and night." 
 "I will preach you a sermon," 
 
 Said the bell in the tower, 
 "I'll invite you to church, 
 
 I will tell you the hour. 
 "Neglect not to enter,— 
 
 'Tis a wonderful place. 
 For the Saviour is there 
 
 With his comforting grace. 
 "If you come. He'll strengthen, 
 
 Make you joyful and bold. 
 If you stay from His house 
 
 You'll grow weaker and cold. 
 "Now, mind what I'm teaching! 
 'Tis the truth which I tell,— 
 If you heed not my preaching, ^^ 
 You will starve," said the bell.' 
 "I will preach you a sermon," 
 
 Said the passenger train. 
 As from station to station 
 
 It sped over the plain. 
 "My whistle is screaming,— 
 
 I'm coming in sight,— 
 Get aboard with your ticket 
 
 And all will be right. 
 "Be on tim.e! for, if tardy. 
 
 To your cost, you will find 
 I'll be off to the city, ^ 
 And will leave you behmd. 
 
 "Take heed! 'tis the gospel 
 I'm preaching, and it's true, 
 
 17G 
 
There's mercy and pardon 
 In Christ Jesus for you. 
 "If you sHght this salvation, 
 You will find to your cost, 
 By your trifling with mercy 
 
 You at last will be lost." 
 "I will preach you a sermon," 
 
 Said the noonday sun, 
 "As the daily course 
 
 Of my duty I run. 
 "I am warming the earth 
 
 And I chase away night. 
 
 And this world of darkness 
 
 I am flooding with light. 
 
 'Now, I trust you will heed 
 
 This sermon of mine. 
 By good works before men 
 
 Let your light always shine. 
 "Lest the light which you have. 
 
 If you hide it away. 
 May leave you in darkness 
 
 And in error to stay." 
 "I will preach you a sermon," 
 
 Said the clustering vine, 
 As its tendrils so tight 
 
 To the trellis did twine. 
 " 'Tis the way I do stand," 
 Said the old grape vine, 
 "For a lesson of faith 
 
 Is this sermon of mine. 
 "Hold on to the promise, 
 
 And by faith win the crown. 
 If you falter, your lusts. 
 
 They will trample you down. 
 "Some branches have clusters 
 That your palate would suit. 
 While some, having leaves. 
 
 Never bear any fruit. 
 "The branch bearing clusters 
 
 Is the Master's desire, 
 But the branch without fruit 
 
 He will burn in the fire. 
 "Do you hear what I teach?" 
 
 Said the clustering vine, 
 "For this gospel I preach 
 Unto you is divine," 
 
 "I will preach you a sermon," 
 Said the fountain, that burst 
 
 From the rock, "I am flowing 
 To make clean, and quench thirst. 
 
 177 
 (12) 
 
"I'm refreshing the flocks 
 
 Of the sheep and the herds, 
 And the flowers which bloom 
 • On my banks, and the birds. 
 "Bring the thirsty to Christ! 
 
 'Tis the fountain which flows; 
 He will cleanse their pollutions, 
 
 Soothe their sorrows and woes. 
 "If you lead not the weary 
 To the fountain that burst 
 From the rock, your own soul ^^ 
 Will then famish with thirst." 
 "I will preach you a sermon," 
 
 Said the sower of seed, 
 "To the truth I'm teaching, 
 
 NovvT be sure and take heed. 
 "This lesson I'm teaching, 
 
 In your memory keep. 
 For the same kind of seed 
 
 That you sow you must reap. 
 "If you're sowing wild oats 
 
 'Tis a sad thing to tell, 
 For except you repent ^^ 
 
 You must reap them in hell. 
 "I will preach you a sermon," 
 Says the binder which heaves 
 From the carrier, each moment, 
 
 Its burden of sheaves. 
 "Go forth, sturdy reaper. 
 
 In the fields of sin! 
 Go and seek for lost sinners! 
 
 Go and gather them in. 
 "For the harvest is great. 
 
 And the laborers are few. 
 Why stand ye here idle? 
 There is wages for you. 
 "Take the sickle of faith,— 
 Go and enter the field,— 
 Take the Sword of the Spirit,— 
 
 And sinners will yield. 
 "For the servant that's idle. 
 He that gathers no grain, 
 Will be cast into darkness, 
 Into sorrow and shame. 
 "But the reaper that gathers 
 Many sheaves shall rejoice. 
 When he hears the 'Well done' 
 Of the Savior's sweet voice. 
 "Enter into my joy! 
 
 For such 'tis prepared. 
 To the faithful I give 
 The exceeding reward." 
 
 178 
 
THE PRAYERLESS DEACON. 
 
 As I read and consulted 
 The news of the times; 
 
 As I grouped them together 
 And wrote into rhymes, — 
 
 In harmony wrote them, 
 Like bells in their chimes. 
 
 To myself I was saying, 
 
 "It is this I will do, — 
 I will gather the items 
 
 And will send them to you. 
 Although I know not 
 
 If 'tis false or if true. 
 
 As in papers or pamphlets 
 
 The stories I read, 
 I wrote in the guise 
 
 Of a dream on my bed; 
 "Better tell as a dream 
 
 Than not tell it," I said. 
 
 And the best way of telling 
 
 This' tale to the crowd 
 Is to write it in verse. 
 
 Or else dream it out loud. 
 I m an expert at dreaming. 
 
 And of this I am proud. 
 
 As I wandered in Dreamland, 
 
 ('Tis a land far away). 
 It seemed that I heard 
 
 A good minister say, 
 "I've a notion of making 
 
 Some calls, wife, today." 
 
 So they sang an anthem 
 
 Of praise to their King, 
 And thought it, of course, 
 
 Quite a laudable thing 
 
 To do, as they sang. 
 
 To bring the lost in. 
 
 They were on a new charge. 
 
 And were quite strangers there: 
 
 For the souls of their flock 
 They were burdened with care. 
 
 And to make them a visit, 
 Would only be fair. 
 
 179 
 
As they talked it all over, 
 They decided 'twere best 
 
 First to visit their members 
 And then call on the rest. 
 
 Then they prayed that their calls, 
 Unto all might be blessed. 
 
 "To the house of the deacon. 
 
 At first we will go, — 
 Have a visit with him; 
 
 It will please him, you know!" 
 And his wife she responded 
 
 And said that was so. 
 
 Now they never had been 
 
 To the deacon's before, 
 But were met by his wife 
 
 And received at the door; 
 Were soon in the parlor, 
 
 With a carpeted floor. 
 
 They'd a good social time. 
 For they made quite a stay, 
 
 And they read in God's Book 
 Ere they went on their way. 
 
 They had prayers, and they 
 Called on the deacon to pray. 
 
 His children were frightened. 
 
 And the baby did cry. 
 Jim whispered to Tom, 
 
 "Pa's a-going to die!" 
 His wife was embarrassed, 
 
 And heaved a loud sigh. 
 
 He never had prayed 
 
 In his family before. 
 The dog was so frightened 
 
 He barked at the door. 
 The cats clawed the screens 
 
 Till their feet were all sore. 
 
 Well, out of the window. 
 At length the cats jump; 
 
 One hid in the coop. 
 
 One climbed on the pump, 
 
 While one crouched behind 
 An old apple tree stump. 
 
 They list to his prayer, 
 With long bated breath; 
 
 To the children and cats, 
 
 Who were scared half to death. 
 
 And the preacher remarked, 
 As they took to the path: 
 
 180 
 
"That deacon seems gifted 
 In our meetings in prayer, — 
 
 One would think he's a saint 
 Should he hear him pray there! 
 
 But at home it appears 
 That his praying is rare. 
 
 His children and kittens 
 Had ne'er heard him pray. 
 
 The first ever offered 
 
 In his home was that day, 
 
 Tho in church he professed 
 That he walked in the Way. 
 
 And now, since his fault 
 
 We so plainly can see. 
 Nor frighten the children, 
 
 Than he seems to be, 
 Let us try more consistent 
 
 Or kittens as he." 
 
 So onward they trudged 
 And talked by the way, 
 
 "If our people aren't godly, — 
 If at home they don't pray. 
 
 When we get to outsiders. 
 Then what shall we say? 
 
 "When we stand up to teach. 
 And the Gospel proclaim, — 
 
 When we offer salvation 
 In Jesus' great name, — 
 
 Then the lives of our people 
 Will put us to shame." 
 
 That evening, at home. 
 
 In their prayer, they did weep, 
 Like the prophet of old, 
 
 For the lambs of the sheep. 
 Prayed that God would convert 
 
 His people and keep. 
 
 They went to their beds. 
 
 Disburdened of care, 
 For on God they had cast 
 
 Their burden in prayer, 
 And a solace they found 
 
 In the comfort that's there. 
 
 And we may each find, 
 
 In praying, the same. 
 If we constantly pray 
 
 In the Savior's great name, 
 But if we neglect 
 
 It will put us to shame. 
 
 181 
 
Let us set an example 
 To others around! « 
 
 In the pathway of duty, 
 Let us always be found, 
 
 And our happiness then 
 Will most surely abound. 
 
 THE GRUMBLING PASTOR. 
 
 I dreamt that I sat in a parsonage one day, 
 And dreamt that the parson was pacing the 
 floor; 
 That in petulant voice to his wife he did say, 
 "My dear, I'll not bear this treatment much 
 more." 
 
 "What on earth do you mean?" said his wife 
 to him then, 
 
 As children were playfully skipping about. 
 "Sure, you have place among honorable men 
 
 And we have as good as we merit, no doubt. 
 
 "And we should be satisfied, love, with our lot, 
 For we've a-plenty to eat and to wear — 
 
 We should be thankful for this, should we not? 
 And should trust in the Lord, who for us 
 doth care." 
 
 "But I will not endure this much longer, dear 
 wife, 
 
 I'll stand on my dignity, you may make sure. 
 I'll not fritter away all the days of my life; 
 
 'Tis more than I ever was called to endure. 
 
 "But eight dollars a week since conference, 
 just see! 
 I've added it up and 'tis all they have paid, — 
 It's the greatest insult to a person like me. 
 What a slave to my books of myself I have 
 made! 
 
 "For what, dearest wife, was my money all 
 given ; 
 And my time in the college for so many 
 years. 
 Preparing to show folks the path-way to 
 heaven; 
 To teach sinners how to shed penitent tears? 
 
 182 
 
"They're not paying me all they promised to 
 
 pay, — 
 They don't consider what my library cost; 
 And I'm going to leave this charge right away." 
 "But what if the souls neath your care should 
 be lost? 
 
 For fear," said his wife, "I'd advise you to 
 
 stay." 
 "Consider what a sacrifice, darlmg, we make, 
 
 What a paying position, too, we have left! 
 And what pains in preparing of sermons I take. 
 
 And how much of ease by it all I'm bereft." 
 
 But in accents of kindness his wife then replied, 
 "The times are quite hard and there's one 
 thing is true, 
 And that is a fact which can't be denied— 
 There are men who are working for less pay 
 than you. 
 
 "There are many who gladly would step in your 
 place 
 And do all the work which belongs now to 
 you. 
 Efficiently do it with a very good grace. 
 And think it an honor and privilege, too. 
 
 "Yes, of course," said the parson, "but, wife, 
 don't you see! . 
 
 Do give it some thought! let me bring to 
 your mind . . 
 
 'Tis no ordinary person, my dear, it is me 
 The sacrifice made, the position resigned. 
 
 "It is I with my learning and disciplined mind; 
 
 I with all my oratorical powers. 
 Not often 'mong ordinary mortals you'll find 
 
 A man such as I, whose intellect towers. 
 
 "I know," the better half of the parson replied, 
 
 "But what was the lesson this morning we 
 
 read? 
 
 'Twas a lesson from Him, who on Calvary died. 
 
 Let us turn to the place and see what he 
 
 said: 
 
 " *I came down from heaven, not my will to 
 
 do,'" , , , 
 
 The paragraph was read distinctly and clear. 
 "See! Christ left a higher position than you. 
 Shall we speak of our sacrifice, my dear? 
 
 183 
 
"But let us turn this subject round the other 
 way, 
 The servant's not greater than Jesus, his 
 Lord. 
 If you're called to preach Christ, then you'd 
 ought to stay; 
 Now listen to what the evangelists record! 
 
 " 'When he suffered, he threatened not,' so we 
 read. 
 The man of sorrows was a pitiful Lord, 
 And ought ministers not in his footsteps to 
 tread? 
 And should ministers not be led by His 
 Word? 
 
 "But let us now read again, how teaches Saint 
 Paul; 
 'Let that mind which was in Christ Jesus, so 
 true, 
 Who has stooped down so low as to die for us 
 all,— 
 Oh, yes, — let that patient mind dwell now in 
 you.' 
 
 " 'For though he was monarch of heaven on 
 high, 
 
 Yet he took on himself the form of a man, 
 Condescended to labor, to suffer, and die' — 
 
 Yes, Jesus completed the work he began, — 
 
 "I wouldn't give it up, love, no, not for my life! 
 For fear I might share in poor Jonah's sad 
 fate. 
 Let's consider the fate of Lot's silly wife! 
 Be warned by the scriptures before 'tis too 
 late." 
 
 "But I am a high-spirited man, don't you see? 
 
 The truth of the matter, I'm free to declare. 
 Now, the giddy and thoughtless won't listen to 
 me, 
 
 And that is a thing which I never can bear. 
 
 "Since I've studied so long to master the art, 
 In dignified manner to make people see. 
 
 And to make people feel, when my hand's on 
 the cart 
 They never should shake it, but listen to me." 
 
 " 'He made himself of no reputation,' thy 
 Lord," 
 The parson's good wife then attempted to 
 read, 
 "And we should be guided alone by His word 
 To all of his precepts and teachings take 
 heed." 
 
 184 
 
"But, dear wife," said the preacher, with em- 
 phasis then, , 
 "Sometimes when I'm preachmg, some ot 
 those cranks 
 Will be responding aloud,— will be shoutmg 
 amen; , . . tt- 
 Will be praising the Lord and givmg Him 
 thanks, — 
 
 "Thus be drawing the minds of the people 
 away ; 
 
 And that is provoking, distracting, you see, 
 For I wish them to hear every word that I say. 
 
 I'm cross if the people don't listen to me. 
 
 "You should think of 'Him who so nobly en- 
 dured, , ^ . 
 'Lest you should be weary, and faint in your 
 mind,' . 
 For to labor and conflict we must all be in- 
 nured, 
 If ever the city of God we would find. 
 
 "If you only had more of the Christ and his 
 love, 
 You never would seek for the honor of men. 
 Jesus left all the honors and riches above 
 Became poorer than birds or beasts of the 
 den. 
 
 "Yes, 'tis more of the spirit of Jesus you need. 
 
 Oh, had you eyes that were open to see, 
 What honor, in the steps of the Master to 
 tread, — 
 
 A spokesman for Christ, the Eternal, to be. 
 
 "You say you are moved by the spirit of God, 
 And have a commission from Jesus on high, 
 
 To tell of the virtue of His precious blood. 
 To show him to men who are ready to die. 
 
 "If you are sincere, and believe what you say, 
 You occupy now a lofty position. 
 
 If you, from your heavenly calling should stray 
 I fear you'll become a son of perdition. 
 
 "For if Jesus, your Saviour, has called you to 
 preach, — . , 
 
 Has opened the way,— and has giv n you a 
 place, 
 Then He will be with you,— He'll help you to 
 teach, — . . 
 
 Will stand by your side and support with his 
 grace. 
 
 185 
 
"For you've no reason at all to complain. 
 Of want or distress, — no, nor yet of the 
 Cross, — 
 In the Gospel, the Saviour has made it all 
 plain; 
 This world must be 'counted as dung and as 
 dross.' 
 
 "For 'he that looks back with his hands on 
 the plow' 
 
 This maxim the great Redeemer has given, 
 (And this truth will apply unto ministers now) 
 
 'He is not fit for the kingdom of heaven.' " 
 
 "But I will still serve the Lord, in some other 
 way. 
 There's many a lucrative calling in life. 
 I'll engage in something which better will pay." 
 "Then 'tis lucre you're after," answered his 
 wife. 
 
 "We 'can serve but one master,' 'tis clear as 
 
 the sun; 
 
 The 'eye must be single to take in the light.' 
 
 'To serve God and mammon can never be done.' 
 
 'Thy God thou shalt love with thy soul, 
 
 strength and might.' " 
 
 Then I dreamt from the skies came a warning, 
 a cry, 
 "Woe! woe to the shepherd that leaveth his 
 fold! 
 For his arm shall be weakened and darkened 
 his eye; 
 Never leave thou thy flock for silver or 
 gold!" 
 
 " 'Shepherd, where is thy flock, thy beautiful 
 flock?' 
 Thy Lord will demand in the great judgment 
 day, 
 'If you build on the sand and not on the rock, 
 Your house and your hopes will be carried 
 away,' 
 
 "You profess to be called by the spirit of God. 
 
 If you're sincere and believe what you say. 
 Then you should be wary of provoking his rod 
 
 By leaving thy duty for some other way." 
 
 186 
 
"But more books I must have, and be decently 
 clothed, 
 My own reputation must keep in my view. 
 Or, of course, by the rich I shall surely be 
 loathed, 
 And I shall be placed in a terrible stew." 
 
 "Mind not high things," said the voice from 
 on high, 
 "Condescend unto men of lowly estate, 
 Sure you never will capture but a very small 
 fry, 
 While you pass by small fish and seek for the 
 great. 
 
 " 'Now consider your calling,' continued the 
 
 voice, 
 
 'There are not many rich, or noble, or wise,' 
 
 Will receive thy glad tidings, — obey and rejoice, 
 
 Nor leave earthly treasure for those in the 
 
 skies. 
 
 "We should seek not our own, but the glory 
 of God 
 
 And then the shouting 'Hallelujah!' 'Amen!' 
 'Oh, glory to Jesus! I now feel the Blood!' 
 
 And such exclamations '11 not vex you then. 
 
 "Yes, Jesus Christ must be seen, and self be 
 denied. 
 Your prominent self must be nailed to the 
 Cross, 
 And 'know nothing but Jesus and Him cruci- 
 fied,' 
 Yea, 'all that was given must be counted as 
 loss.' " 
 
 PART SECOND. 
 
 There's a part of my dream, I've neglected to 
 tell, 
 'Tis part of my revery, simple and true, 
 On this subject, — you see, I was loth for to 
 dwell ; 
 Still, just as I dreamt it I'll tell it to you. 
 
 When the minister spoke of his skill and his 
 art. 
 His anxious care, and the pains he was tak- 
 ing; 
 Just like Uzzah of old, put his hand on the cart 
 To steady it up and keep it from shaking, 
 
 187 
 
I was frightened a bit, and spoke out in my 
 dream. 
 Methought we were bringing God's ark to his 
 place, — 
 That Ahio and Uzzah were driving the team, 
 And the hosts of the Lord were singing His 
 praises. 
 
 Oh, such musical strains as I heard in my 
 dream! 
 I dreamt 'twas a duty to warn my brother, — 
 So I shouted right out, in his ears, it did seem, 
 "Be warned by the stroke which fell on an- 
 other! 
 
 "There's two methods of bringing the ark of 
 the Lord 
 To his place (I sought for the wisdom to 
 show), 
 Ahio led gently, by example and word. 
 
 Best method," I dreamt, "notwithstanding 
 'tis slow. 
 
 "Said Ahio, 'This ark is the ark of the Lord,* 
 So trusted His guidance to lead on before. 
 
 He just kept in his place as the scriptures 
 record, 
 'Let it shake,' said he, 'if it do nothing more.' 
 
 " * 'Twill attract the attention of some passer- 
 by, 
 To the fact that the ark is moving right on; 
 That the kingdom of God has come very nigh. 
 While God's hosts are shouting, His kingdom 
 has come. 
 
 "But Uzzah, we find, was a different man, 
 And it seems he came to a different end. 
 
 'I will keep it from shaking,' said he, 'if I can, 
 For its safety alone on my efforts depend.' " 
 
 Dreamt I shouted aloud to the preacher, and 
 cried, — 
 "Ahio's way is the one to be taken! 
 See! Uzzah was slain for presumption and 
 pride, — 
 Put his hand on the ark to keep it from 
 shaking." 
 
 "I will have order," he began then, retorting, 
 "I'll have nothing to do with noisy cranks; 
 I will squelch fervent praying, — have no ex- 
 horting." 
 (My advice threw away and gave me no 
 thanks.) 
 
 188 
 
"I stick close to the Word, yes, I deal in cold 
 facts, 
 
 It's no fault of mine, if folks will be lost. 
 At the root of all evil I lay a sharp axe,— 
 
 If they don't repent, it is at their own cost." 
 
 "Yes, your preaching is able and true," I re- 
 plied, 
 "You explain, illustrate, enforce,— and 'tis 
 nice, — 
 Give us cold facts, — I should say, that can't be 
 denied. 
 For you pour down our backs a pail of slush 
 ice. 
 
 "You seem to be earnest, — preach loud to the 
 people, 
 Like those brothers of old, the loud Sons of 
 Thunder. 
 Your voice fills the house,— yes, and rings in 
 the steeple. 
 But brother, you're making a terrible blund- 
 er! 
 
 "You lay heavy burdens, men's shoulders to 
 bear 
 While behind them in zeal, and works you 
 linger, — 
 For you point out the way with precision and 
 care, 
 But touch not the weight with one little 
 finger. 
 
 "Jesus gave those brothers a right sharp re- 
 proof 
 Who in anger sought to call fire from heaven 
 'For ye know not what spirit,' said he, 'ye are 
 of,— 
 Go empty your hearts of all the old leaven!' 
 
 "To faith you add courage, and you knowledge 
 have gained. 
 You have many books and they're kept in 
 their places, 
 But my brother, how often our hearts have 
 been pained. 
 You fall short of love, the chiefest of graces. 
 
 "Go, add brotherly kindness, and then over all. 
 The greatest of virtues, which covers all sin! 
 
 Let love like a mantle qu poor sinners fall! 
 Be kind and forbear, if their souls you would 
 win. 
 
 189 
 
"Be as wise as a serpent, — be mild as a dove! 
 Each soul is worth saving, — oh, think what 
 it cost! 
 Think what a power in the example of love! 
 Go weep over sinners! Fear, lest they be 
 lost. 
 
 " 'Dead flies,' it is said, 'makes the ointment 
 to stink,' 
 A little of folly, a lack of love, too. 
 Are things, my brother, which I really do 
 think 
 Are driving this people's affections from 
 you." 
 
 THIRD PART. 
 
 Then the voice which spake first to the pastor, 
 I heard; 
 And it seemed that I saw in a vision of light, 
 And, with thoughts of the future my own soul 
 was stirred; 
 My duty was plain, — and it filled me with 
 fright. 
 
 Lo! the voice which I heard was the voice of 
 the Lord, 
 'Twas speaking to me in my revery, it did 
 seem; 
 And his brightness I saw as I list to his Word, 
 But he fled from my sight as I woke from 
 my dream. 
 
 "The watchman who has once received a com- 
 mand 
 
 To warn the wicked, of danger at hand. 
 
 If he warn not the sinner when danger is 
 nigh,— 
 
 If he blow not the trumpet,— if he give no 
 alarm. 
 
 To save his people from danger and harm. 
 That watchman and sinner together shall 
 die. 
 
 "If he fail to follow the teaching of God, 
 And persuade not sinners to trust in Christ's 
 blood, — 
 If he warn them not, to turn from their 
 way,— 
 If to Tarsus, or to some other place, he doth 
 
 stray ; 
 Take whichever worldly course he may. 
 He will rue it at last, if he does disobey. 
 
 190 
 
"The business world, like Jonah's fish, 
 Will gulp thee down against thy wish. 
 
 Thy life will become as a troubled sea 
 With weeds of care about thy head. 
 Thy wish, thy prayers that thou wert dead, 
 
 No peace to the runaway prophet," said he. 
 
 "There's the prophet of Judah,— to Bethel he 
 
 came 
 And a miracle did in God's own name. 
 
 But met with a lion and by it was slain; 
 His own disobedience caused him to die, — 
 He followed a prophet who told him a lie. 
 
 Obey the command, if life you would gain! 
 
 "The idle shepherd who is lured with gold. 
 Will find 'tis true as the Bible foretold; 
 
 Who leaves his flock in the desert to stray, 
 His arm becomes weak, his eyes lose their 
 
 sight; 
 Foe. leaving the way which he knew was right. 
 
 The sword of the Lord will on him lay. 
 
 "But the shepherd, like David, who guards his 
 
 fold, 
 Who never is lured by honor or gold. 
 
 Who brings back the wandering sheep that 
 stray, 
 Who guards it by night and feeds it by day; 
 This is the shepherd who at last shall stand 
 Approved of the Lord, at His right hand. 
 
 "When Elijah had faith, Baal's prophets were 
 
 slain, 
 And his prayer did bring an abundance of rain. 
 But when he 'knew' God's prophets were 
 dead 
 He doubted and trembled, did Jezebel dread;— 
 And he fled to the mountain so far away, 
 Leaving his flock in the desert to stray. 
 
 "God whispered to him as he stood in the cave, 
 Although he'd forgotten that God could save— 
 
 A still small voice did sound in his ear, 
 'What doest thou, Prophet Elijah, here? 
 Go! haste thee back to thy labor again. 
 
 Go! speed thee back to thy flock, o'er the 
 plain.' 
 
 "So Elijah did leap at the voice of the Lord, 
 Sped him back with delight,— obeying the word, 
 
 To be God's prophet of Samaria again; 
 And never again of his duty did tire. 
 Till God took him home in a chariot of fire, 
 
 Where Elijah will never see trouble again. 
 
 191 
 
"Wouldst thou go where the prophets have 
 
 gone? 
 Return to thy labor until it is done, — 
 Then he will promote to a place that is 
 higher. 
 Will give thee, at length, thy heart's desire. 
 But beware," said the voice, "lest you, at 
 length, 
 Be lulled to sleep and lose your strength! 
 
 "Remember this world is wicked and wily! 
 Remember Samson, so valiant and strong, — 
 How, heaps upon heaps he slew, a great 
 throng, 
 But at length he laid his head in the lap of 
 Delilah. 
 
 "Take this warning! it is given for you. 
 
 See how he lost his eyes and was blind; 
 
 The sport of Phillistines in prisons did grind. 
 Take this example of warning so true! 
 
 "Now keep wide awake and to duty be true! 
 For 'tis God who is giving this warning to you. 
 
 "God's curse on Meroz was a terrible curse, 
 So bitter it seems there can be nothing worse, 
 
 Because they came not to the help of the 
 Lord; 
 When sinners so mighty did rage like a flood, 
 Meroz helped not, but like cowards they stood. 
 
 So were bitterly cursed by the Angel of God," 
 
 This curse of Meroz is a warning to all; 
 A prompter to those who stand on the wall. 
 
 To the people at ease in Zion today. 
 To luke-warm souls whose hands hang down, 
 Gathering no stars to deck Jesus' crown. 
 
 To rise up from their sleep and go on their 
 way." 
 
 I slept and I dreamt that such might awake; 
 That sleepers in Zion a warning should take, — 
 
 See sinners, thronging the downward road. 
 Walking in darkness, burdened with sin. 
 Go hold up the light, inviting them in, — 
 
 Go quickly out and bring them to God. 
 
 If you cover your light it soon will go out, 
 Filling your mind with darkness and doubt. 
 
 Go out in the darkness and hold it up high, 
 To your neighbors and friends you hold so 
 
 dear! 
 Send a warning word or a word of cheer, — 
 
 Speak to them quickly or ever they die! 
 
 192 
 
My warning dream I will bring to a close. 
 Let us diligent be and escape those woes! 
 
 Let us sow good seed by day and by night! 
 Lead souls to the Saviour from day unto day, 
 As we joyfully journey along our way;— 
 
 Then Jesus will welcome to mansions of 
 light. 
 
 A BOY'S SURPRISE. 
 
 "Well, mamma, I had a s'prise today, 
 It was just this way, you see,— 
 
 I went to the Meth-dis church with Jay 
 (Last Sunday he went with me)." ♦ 
 
 "Well, what was it surprised my boy? 
 
 Come, tell it, Johnny, to me." 
 "W'y! they read in a Baptis' Bible, Ma! 
 
 That's what was a-'sprisin' me! 
 
 "The Meth-dis have a Jesus, Ma, 
 
 What died on Calvary, 
 To save us dreadful sinners. Ma! 
 
 Like you was a-tellin' to me. 
 
 "An' the Meth-dis have a Heaven, Ma! 
 
 I heard their minister say, 
 For self-denying people, Ma! 
 
 What walk in the narrow way. 
 
 "An' he read of a Holy City, Ma! 
 
 By side of a crystal sea, 
 But he read in a Baptis' Bible, Ma! 
 
 That's what was a-'sprisin' me. 
 
 "An' he read of many mansions, Ma! 
 
 What a lot of 'em there must be! 
 Must be one for all of us. Ma! 
 
 Guess there's one for you and me. 
 
 "And he read of a host of people. Ma! 
 
 What are always a-singin' praise. 
 Yes, and of a lot of angels. Ma! 
 
 What sleep not nights nor days. 
 
 "Yes, and read of a fruit, too, Ma! 
 
 What grows on a wonderful tree,— 
 But he read it in a Baptis' Bible, Ma! 
 
 An' that was a-'sprisin' to me. 
 
 193 
 (13) 
 
"Then he took in his arms a baby, Ma! 
 
 An' from a Baptis' Bible he read" 
 That kids belong to the kingdom. Ma! 
 
 Then he sprinkled its face and head. 
 
 "It seemed a little funny, Ma, 
 But he prayed a mighty sight,— 
 
 And he said it was their duty. Ma, 
 For to bring the kids up right. 
 
 "Then he read in a Baptis' Bible, Ma, 
 
 Let the little kids comie to me. 
 'Spose that's the way they do it. Ma! 
 
 But it did seem funny to me. 
 
 "It did seem dreadful funny, Ma, 
 
 When he took a Baptis' text. 
 Well, then, they changed the meetin', Ma, 
 
 They all took to speaking, next. 
 
 "It was like a Baptis' meetin'. Ma,— 
 
 When they stood up to speak, 
 They all look't lovin' an' happy. Ma, 
 
 An' tears run down their cheeks. 
 
 "As good as a Baptis' meetin'. Ma! 
 
 I wish't you was there to see. 
 But them havin' a Baptis' Bible, Ma, 
 
 Is what's a-'sprisin' me. 
 
 "Some almost got to shoutin', Ma, 
 
 An' big tears streamed from their eyes. 
 
 As they spoke of seein' Jesus, Ma, 
 In their home beyond the skies. 
 
 "Them Meth-dis folks seem pious, Ma! 
 
 Altho' they make a little fuss. 
 But long's they use a Baptis' Bible, Ma! 
 
 Why don't they come over to us? 
 
 "Don't Meth-dis have a Bible, Ma? 
 
 Like us, have one of their own?" 
 "No, John, true Bibles are all alike 
 
 For all people,— God gave us but one." 
 
 "Then, they are wrong, since we are right!' 
 "No, my son, they differ in some ways, 
 
 But all who walk in love and light, 
 Are living to God's praise. 
 
 "Don't be surprised, my darling boy, 
 If they do differ some from you, 
 
 For oftentimes, in m.any ways, 
 You m.ay differ from them, too. 
 
 194 
 
"In names and forms we differ some, 
 
 And it long has been so, too. • 
 But all who trust in Jesus' blood 
 
 Are saved — I am and you. 
 
 "Let us trust the Lord: obey His Word, 
 
 And discharge all duties, too; 
 Let's love our neighbor as ourselves; 
 
 Let us pray for sinners, too. 
 
 "We all are apt to be surprised 
 
 In the coming judgment day. 
 For many we thought were pure and good. 
 
 May be lost and cast away. 
 
 "And some we thought were reprobates, — 
 Would be lost, — be cast away, — 
 
 May wear the spotless robes of white 
 With Christ in endless day. 
 
 "A great surprise awaits us soon, 
 When clouds and doubts are past, 
 
 To find ourselves all safe at home. 
 With the blood-washed throng, at last. 
 
 "They'll come from every age and clime, 
 
 From every sect and name. 
 All whose robes are washed, and white, 
 
 In the blood of Calvary's Lamb. 
 
 "What a glad surprise will greet our eyes 
 As we enter that city, so bright! 
 
 When all doubt and fear will disappear 
 And sin, and sorrow, and night. 
 
 "Each receiving a crown, will cast it down 
 
 At the worthy Savior's feet. 
 With the countless throng His praise prolong 
 
 As we march on the golden street. 
 
 "No Methodist there, nor Baptist, my boy! 
 
 No sects will be known in Heaven; 
 But all will enter to life and joy 
 
 Whose sins are all forgiven. 
 
 "We will sing, as we follow Jesus there, 
 On the banks of that beautiful river. 
 
 We'll pluck the fruit from trees so 'fair! 
 Eat and live forever and ever. 
 
 "With prophets and with martyrs there. 
 With all the blood-washed throng. 
 
 We'll stand upon the sea of glass 
 And join the Immortal song. 
 
 195 
 
"But in order to reach that city, John, 
 
 We must walk the narrow way. 
 The broad way leads to ruin, John, 
 
 But the narrow to fields of day. 
 
 "We must have a constant care, 
 Don't yield to sad despair, John! 
 
 For it is my daily prayer, John, 
 To meet my boy up there. 
 
 "If you would meet me there, my boy, 
 
 Seek purity within! 
 Then you will have a Heaven of joy 
 
 To go to Heaven in. 
 
 A man whose parents were Baptists, told me 
 this story on himself. The surprise happened 
 when he was a sm,all lad. While rendering it 
 into verse I have taken the liberty to fix it 
 some. 
 
 G. D. POTTER. 
 
 SATAN'S DEVICES. 
 
 PART FIRST. 
 
 In my dreams there came 
 
 To my room in the night 
 What appeared unto me 
 
 As an Angel of Light; 
 And he pictured the world, 
 
 Yes, and painted it bright, 
 And had deck'd himself up 
 
 All in raiment of white. 
 
 Now, I never had seen 
 
 The world glitter before 
 Like the glint he put on it, 
 
 As he entered my door. 
 He showed all its honors. 
 
 Pleasures, riches in store. 
 But I never shall see it 
 
 So bright any more. 
 
 Yes, he painted it gay 
 
 Lik^ the butterfly's wings. 
 He put on the tinsel 
 
 Of queens and of kings. 
 Oh, he charmed my soul 
 
 With these beautiful things. 
 Then he show'd me his hands 
 
 Full of rubies and rings. 
 
 196 
 
He said, "All these pleasures, 
 
 Honors, riches in store, 
 Are in reach of you now, 
 
 They are just at your door. 
 Opportunity is yours 
 
 And may never come more, 
 Come after it quickly. 
 
 Or your chance will be o'er!" 
 
 Yes, he pictur'd it to me 
 
 So gaily that night, 
 Made it look unto me 
 
 So alluring and bright: — 
 I said to myself, 
 
 "I will go now and see 
 This wonderful world, 
 
 And what it can be, 
 Which this Angel of Light 
 
 Is offering to me." 
 
 Dreamt I started av/ay. 
 That in haste I then ran, 
 
 Eagerly chasing the world, 
 As a child chases butterflies. 
 
 Swiftly over the land. 
 But each joy which I sought 
 
 Like bubbles would burst, 
 And its fountains of bliss 
 Only mocked my thirst. 
 
 "It is just in your grasp" — 
 
 Was the tale which he told. 
 "You shall feather your nest 
 
 With a bagful of gold." 
 Dreamt I chas'd it on. 
 
 Both by night and by day, 
 But the longer I chas'd it. 
 
 It got farther away. 
 
 "To your games," then he said, 
 
 "To your cups and the dance! 
 Only mend your pace, 
 
 You shall catch it, perchance." 
 Dreamt I sped me along 
 
 Over valley and plain. 
 But sirs! Not one drop 
 
 Of pure joy could I gain. 
 
 "Dig deeper in the mines 
 Of wealth there," he said. 
 
 But the more wealth I gained. 
 The less pleasure I had. 
 
 With the pick of sharp bargains 
 
 197 
 
I delved with great care; 
 But was left of pleasures 
 And happiness, bare. 
 
 "Drink deeper of the cup 
 
 Then, of pleasure," he said. 
 And he then held the cup 
 
 Of sin to my head. 
 But the deeper I drank 
 
 Still the more it would cloy, 
 Till at length it bereft me 
 
 Entirely of joy. 
 
 Then he look'd at me sharply. 
 
 And kept teasing at me 
 To go sail o'er the ocean. ^ 
 
 Said, " 'Tis over the sea." 
 And so months after months 
 
 I sailed over the main. 
 But came not in sight 
 
 So my search was in vam. 
 
 "Then go climb the mountains 
 
 Which reach to the sky! 
 Go, toil your way up them, ^^ 
 
 Tho they are steep and high. 
 So I viewed their broad base 
 
 And clamber'd their height; 
 For happiness sought 
 
 But it eluded my sight. 
 
 "You will find it in learning, 
 
 Tho you've failed heretofore. 
 So I delved into books,— 
 
 Into learning and lore. 
 "You will find it in culture; ^^ 
 
 "Yes," he said, "it is there. 
 But I came back without it. 
 
 Almost in despair. 
 
 "Then go to the cloister 
 
 And convent," he said. 
 "'Twill be yours, as soon 
 
 As to Nature you're dead. 
 So I entered the place. 
 
 And I looked, and lo! care. 
 With sorrow and sighing 
 
 Were visible there. 
 
 How he charmed my soul 
 For my life I can't tell; 
 
 But he smiled on me so. 
 Said he loved me so well, 
 
 198 
 
Talked so like an angel, 
 
 And cut such a swell, 
 That I never surmised 
 
 *Twas the Devil of Hell. 
 
 Dreamt I v^ondered much 
 
 Who this angel could be. 
 Who had practised and preached 
 
 Such lies unto me. 
 So I pulled off his mask,— 
 
 When, lo, and behold! 
 'Twas the angel that fell; 
 
 'Twas the serpent of old! 
 
 Dreamt virith brazen face then. 
 
 That he ov^^ned it up, a.U; 
 And told how he came 
 
 Down from heaven to fall; 
 Told how he grew proud. 
 
 Against God did rebel. 
 Said at length he became 
 
 The old devil of hell. 
 
 But of one thing did boast: 
 
 And proceeded to tell 
 Of the angels a host 
 
 He had caused to rebel; 
 And drew many down 
 
 To perdition to dwell. 
 "And I did this for spite,'* 
 
 Said the devil of hell. 
 
 Said he did more than that. 
 
 He would have me believe; 
 Told how slyly he came 
 
 To old Adam and Eve. 
 Like a serpent did crawl. 
 
 Whispered lies to deceive, 
 Caused our parents to fall. 
 
 And God's spirit to grieve. 
 
 And was traveling about 
 
 By day and by night, 
 Causing people to doubt 
 
 The truth and the light; 
 To draw folks from God. 
 
 "And I cause them to dwell 
 Forever in torment." 
 
 Said the devil of hell. 
 
 Said he hated the Lord 
 
 And every right way. 
 Said he used all his skill 
 
 To lead people astray: 
 
 199 
 
He slipped slyly about 
 
 Both by night and by day, 
 
 To lead people out 
 
 Of the straight, narrow way. 
 
 PART SECOND. 
 
 But again in a dream 
 
 At the noon of the night. 
 
 He again sought to lure 
 
 From the path which is right. 
 
 "You are young," said he, 
 And the sun's shining bright." 
 
 Said, "I wish you would go 
 
 With me a short spell, 
 And I will lead you into 
 ~ A bright, beautiful dell. 
 See the crowds of gay folks 
 
 How their numbers do swell! 
 
 "You love gay companions," 
 
 The serpent then said. 
 As he edged his way up 
 
 To the side of my bed. 
 But he lied about whither 
 
 That broad pathway led. 
 
 And he whispered quite low 
 
 In my ear for a spell. 
 And he said, "You are young, 
 
 You are sprightly and well." 
 And I have on my tongue 
 
 Many tales for to tell. 
 
 "Come along," then, he said, 
 
 "To that beautiful dell, 
 And I'll show you the place 
 
 Where delightful things dwell." 
 But his voice he had changed. 
 
 The old devil of hell. 
 
 Dreamt I said, "I had thought 
 
 Now of turning away 
 From the paths of folly 
 
 And of learning to pray. 
 And of seeking salvation. 
 
 While 'tis called today." 
 
 But, he said, "You are young, 
 And are healthy and strong. 
 
 So the journey of life 
 
 That's before you is long." 
 
 Said, "Where is the person 
 That never goes wrong? 
 
 200 
 
"'Tis the valley of pleasures 
 
 I am leading you to: 
 And there is plenty of time 
 
 To repent in, for you. 
 And you'll fare just as well," 
 
 Said, "as other folks do. 
 
 "You shall march in the midst 
 
 Of a gay, giddy throng. 
 Hear the sirens and elfs 
 
 And be charmed with their song. 
 Come along," said the demon, 
 
 "Come along! come along!" 
 
 Said, "The way it is smooth. 
 And the road it is wide, 
 
 And not a wish of yours 
 That shall e'er be denied." 
 
 But I did not mistrust 
 
 That this charmer had lied. 
 
 " 'Tis quite easy to find 
 
 'Tis a down-hill grade. 
 'Tis a well beaten path," 
 
 The old serpent then said, 
 But a snare in the way 
 
 For my feet he had laid. 
 
 "I will lead in the path 
 Which leads to that dell: 
 
 I will show it to you 
 
 For I know it quite well: 
 
 Step right in my tracks!" 
 Said the devil of hell. 
 
 So I came to the dell 
 
 Which he'd pictured so bright, 
 And it seemed like a hell, 
 
 It was darker than night; 
 And my sins, like mountains. 
 
 Looming up in their light. 
 
 So I stumbled about 
 
 Over hummock and bog; 
 
 And was soundly besmirched 
 As I fell in the quag. 
 
 So mystified was I 
 And lost in the fog. 
 
 Then he said, "You are caught." 
 And began to make bold. 
 
 Said, "For a shadow, for naught, 
 Your ownself you have sold!" 
 
 So again I was trapped 
 By the serpent of old. 
 
 201 
 
Then I said to myself, 
 
 "I will watch and take care." 
 Said, "I never again 
 
 Will be caught in his snare." 
 But how weak in our selves 
 
 We tempted souls are. 
 
 PART THIRD. 
 
 For again he came 
 
 With a silent tread. 
 On his face was a smile, 
 
 As he stood by my bed. 
 His voice he now changed, 
 
 While he spoke up and said: 
 
 "I have called as a friend," 
 And he blushed a bit then 
 
 As he said he had found 
 A bright, beautiful glen. 
 
 And he chatted away 
 As the fairest of men. 
 
 "Just yonder," he said, 
 "In that beautiful grove. 
 
 See the crowds of gay chums! 
 In those bowers, they rove. 
 
 Come and join this gay throng! 
 'Tis a place to make love. 
 
 "You shall have a good time 
 If you'll travel that way. 
 
 You can go to the dance 
 And at cards you can play. 
 
 Can go careless along 
 In a crowd that is gay. 
 
 "You shall have the delights 
 Both of women and men. 
 
 If you travel the road 
 Which leads to that glen. 
 
 Oh, such beautiful things 
 
 That will charm, your soul then! 
 
 "No restraints in the way; 
 
 You can take your own ease, — 
 Be proud and dress gay 
 
 And be lewd, if you please, 
 For I never object 
 
 To such trifles as these. 
 
 202 
 
"There are fountains of joy. 
 There are pleasures that dwell, 
 
 There are flowers that bloom, 
 On the road to that dell. 
 
 'Tis a beautiful path," 
 Said the devil of hell. 
 
 "See those sparkling fountains 
 
 Just there in that dell. 
 They all shall be yours, 
 
 If for pleasure you'll sell 
 The morning of life." 
 
 Said the devil of hell. 
 
 "Your serious thoughts 
 You'd better renounce. 
 
 Go along with the crowd! 
 Come, don't be a dunce! 
 
 'Tis sure that you never 
 Can be young only once." 
 
 Dreamt I said to myself, 
 "It is time to repent; 
 
 In the pathway of sin 
 
 Much too far I have went. 
 
 But he said, "Come along. 
 In this crowd be content." 
 
 Said, "Don't give it up yet, 
 For the sun is still high, 
 
 Time enough to repent. 
 
 When a man comes to die." 
 
 But I dreamt that I feared 
 He had told me a lie. 
 
 Then he grasped my hand 
 And held onto it tight. 
 
 He threw dust in my eyes, 
 And he blew out* the light. 
 
 And said he would have me 
 If 'twas wrong or if right. 
 
 Dreamt he then shut me up 
 
 In a place of despair. 
 As he gazed, in his eyes 
 
 Was a terrible glare, 
 And he cudgeled me sore 
 
 And he kept me still there. 
 
 He threw in my face 
 
 My omission and sin. 
 Of what I had ought 
 
 To have done and have been. 
 Did it over and over, 
 
 Yes, again and again. 
 
 203 
 
He gazed so fiercely 
 
 With brass on his cheek; 
 
 Brow-beat with his cudgel 
 That I dare not to speak. 
 
 Yes, he beat me so sore 
 I was lame, blind and weak. 
 
 Said, "You can't get to heaven 
 
 Tho hard you may try. 
 You're wicked and sinful. 
 
 Heaven is holy and high. 
 Sinful mortals like you 
 
 Cannot climb to the sky." 
 
 Dreamt I bade him depart, 
 Still the demon did stand. 
 
 Tho I struggled and groaned 
 He still held to my hand. 
 
 Tho I said, "I am bound 
 For the heavenly land." 
 
 "I will take you by force," 
 
 Said the devil of hell, 
 "In torment with rre 
 
 For aye you shall dwell." 
 But the anguish I felt 
 
 There's no mortal can tell. 
 
 Then I bade him be gone. 
 
 And wished from me he'd stay, 
 
 For I wished to repent; 
 
 Said 'twas time I should pray. 
 
 And be setting my feet 
 In the heavenly way. 
 
 "You will have all eternity 
 
 Over sins to reflect; 
 Of your slightings of mercy 
 
 And your guilty neglect." 
 He Rave me much trouble 
 
 Said my soul it was wrecked. 
 
 "You rray belong to church, 
 You may preach and may pray. 
 
 If in the broad road 
 
 With me you will stray. 
 
 But with me to torment 
 You shall go and must stay. 
 
 "You a pirate may be, 
 
 Be a robber and kill; 
 You may take whichever 
 
 Wicked pathway you will: 
 But then vou must go 
 
 To perdition to dwell. 
 
 204 
 
"You'll have time to repent 
 When you get down there, 
 
 'Twill be easy to weep 
 In the fields of despair; 
 
 So disburden your soul 
 For the present of care. 
 
 "There's one thing of you 
 
 I will surely require: 
 You must suffer the torment 
 
 Of brimstone and fire; 
 'Tis your torment in hell 
 
 Which I mostly desire." 
 
 I then asked him "Whence 
 Came the brimstone and fire?" 
 
 " 'Twas kindled," he said, 
 "By my sins in God's ire; 
 
 By my own evil thoughts 
 And my unholy desire." 
 
 "'Twould have taken no longer," 
 
 He said to me then, 
 "To have walked in the light; 
 
 Been the holiest of men. 
 If you only had kept 
 
 But one vow out of ten. 
 
 "You've been sowing of brimstone 
 
 Along your own path; 
 By your v^orldly ways , 
 
 Been provoking God's wrath. 
 And now you must reap 
 
 Your own sowing in death. 
 
 "You can reflect down there 
 How you hated the light; 
 
 Turned away from your God 
 And away from the right. 
 
 When the offers of mercy 
 You so often did slight. 
 
 "I'll remind you," he said, 
 
 "Of the offers you had 
 Of mercy and grace, 
 
 By a good, loving God. 
 And how, of yourself, 
 
 You chose evil and bad. 
 Then you can repent. 
 
 And feel sorry and sad. 
 
 205 
 
"Now, put away care, 
 
 And sorrow as well; 
 'Twill be time to repent ^ 
 
 Down there in that hell. 
 If you had only done right 
 
 All would have been well. 
 
 "You can reflect and weep 
 Over your broken vows. 
 
 When your soul was disturbed 
 As you sat in God's house; 
 
 When the warning word 
 Did your fears arouse. 
 
 "You'll have plenty of time 
 On these things to dwell 
 
 In the regions of woe," 
 Said the devil of hell. 
 
 But the sorrow I felt 
 
 There's no mortal can tell. 
 
 I then dreamt the "great day 
 
 Of eternity" came, 
 That the earth was dissolved, 
 
 And the heavens aflame; 
 That my soul was alarmed. 
 
 And I trembled with fright. 
 Then dreamt I was doomed 
 
 To have sorrow and night. 
 
 Dreamt I felt I was fast 
 In the serpent's own snare. 
 
 Dreamt I cried unto God 
 
 And he answered my prayer. 
 
 Thought Satan then vanished 
 And fled from me there. 
 
 I dreamt that an angel 
 
 Of God then stood by my bed. 
 Many words of warning. 
 
 And of comfort he said. 
 Though I'd wasted much time 
 
 To my sorrow and cost. 
 Bade me gather the crumbs 
 
 That no more may be lost. 
 
 Now, when I awoke 
 
 I rejoiced to know 
 That I was not forced 
 
 With the tempter to go. 
 To dwell in the regions 
 
 Of black torment and woe. 
 
 206 
 
But I'll never forget 
 The dream of that night, 
 
 When the imp grasped my hand 
 And held it so tight 
 
 And said he would have 
 My soul wrong or right. 
 
 But how happy I am, 
 
 I never can tell. 
 To be freed from my sins 
 
 And the torment of hell. 
 And to inherit a home 
 
 With my Saviour to dwell. 
 
 And I often reflect 
 
 On that troublesome dream. 
 When my hopes seemed wrecked. 
 
 And to me it doth seem 
 That my life of the past 
 
 Was lived over in dream. 
 
 I think of the time 
 
 When the world has allured, 
 Of yielding, it seemed 
 
 I could never be cured. 
 Yes, for yielding, what grief 
 
 My soul has endured! 
 
 How long it did take 
 
 To learn to keep cool! 
 That experience teaches 
 
 (A very dear school) 
 That he that trusts his own heart 
 
 Is a consummate fool. 
 
 Though watchful and guarded, 
 
 And sober and civil, 
 I'm not out of gunshot 
 
 Of the serpent, the devil. 
 For still I am tempted 
 
 Sometimes to do evil. 
 
 I rejoice that this truth 
 
 In God's book is revealed. 
 
 There's no sin in temptation, 
 But the sin is to yield 
 
 To worldly allurements 
 And give Satan the field. 
 
 We must not only watch. 
 
 But be often in prayer. 
 That the Father of Mercies 
 
 May still make us his care; 
 And guide our feet safely 
 
 Midst conflict and snare. 
 
 207 
 
BLUE MONDAY. 
 
 Oh, it was only just last night 
 I looked aloft, and lo, behold! 
 The mountain tops were tinged with gold. 
 Faith saw the Savior's raiment white. 
 Glistening clearer than the light. 
 
 Only just last night. 
 
 Yes, it was only just last night 
 I stood with Jesus on the mount. 
 My soul was drinking at the fount; 
 The clouds were all beneath my feet. 
 With saints and seers I took my seat, 
 
 Only just last night. 
 
 For it was only just last night 
 The Holy City was in sight; 
 Its pearly gates were shining bright 
 My soul exulting in its light. 
 
 Only just last night. 
 
 Yea, it was only just last night 
 
 I joined with saints in holy song. 
 And coveted an angel's tongue. 
 And wished for an eternal day. 
 In which to sing my holy lay, 
 
 Only just last night. 
 
 But, though my visions were so bright. 
 
 Today my soul is full of dread, 
 
 For gloomy clouds are overhead; 
 
 I'm grov'ling in a lowly vale; 
 
 The springs of comfort seem to fail; — 
 
 Only since last night. 
 
 Though it was only just last night 
 
 I read my title to a crown; 
 All earthly titles trampled down; 
 With giant strides the race I ran 
 And thought myself a valiant man, 
 
 Only just last night. 
 
 But 'tis not so with me today. 
 
 For though last night my soul was glad. 
 Today I mourn in grief, — am sad. 
 I sigh in sorrow, grieving sore, 
 "Will Jesus show his face no more?" 
 
 Tempted, I ask today. 
 
 Jesus was in the ship last night 
 
 208 
 
And all was bright; but now 'tis dark 
 And angry billows toss my bark. 
 So fiercely by the gale I'm tossed, 
 The tempter whispers, "All is lost!" 
 
 Though I was blessed last night. 
 
 I said, " 'Tis my infirmity, — 
 
 So I'll remember His right hand 
 
 Which led me to the border-land 
 
 Of my inheritance above. 
 
 Whose presence filled my soul with love 
 
 Bore my infirmity. 
 
 "I'll trust Him, where I cannot trace. 
 
 What, though I'm tossed upon the wave, 
 I know his arm is strong to save. 
 He'll bid the angry waves be still. 
 For winds and seas obey his will. 
 I'll trust His mighty grace." 
 What Jesus was to me last night. 
 
 Whose candle shone upon my way, 
 He'll be the same to me today 
 For He is always just the same 
 All glory to His holy name! 
 Christ is life and light. 
 
 From age to age, from day to day, 
 "Then why, my soul, art thou cast down? 
 Behind the clouds he holds thy crown. 
 He's promised thee sufficient grace 
 To run the whole celestial race. 
 
 Then trust him and obey! 
 
 "His to command, mine to obey. 
 This rule of life He has laid down; 
 The violent shall take the crown, 
 The lukewarm soul, the man of doubt, 
 The Lord abhors; will spew him out. — 
 
 Then zealously obey! 
 
 "Obedient faith the prize shall win. 
 Then urge thy way 'gainst wind and tide; 
 He'll smooth the mount, — the seas divide; 
 To dark or light take thou no heed! 
 But go thou forth to sow thy seed, — 
 
 Go many souls to win. 
 
 "Have patience, then, a few more days 
 And labor on mid'st clouds or sun. 
 Thy working days will soon be done. 
 Then thou shalt see thy Lord in white, 
 And dwell in everlasting light. 
 
 And sing His worthy praise. 
 
 209 
 (14) 
 
"Nor clouded skies, nor stormy seas, 
 Nor Satan's wiles, nor doubt, nor pain 
 Shall e'er molest thy soul again. 
 Long as eternity shall last, 
 Thou shalt enjoy in heaven thy rest, 
 
 Nor aught disturb thy peace." 
 
 CHRISTIAN SCIENCE A DELUSION. 
 
 A lady and a lad one day, 
 
 Were strolling in a lot. 
 
 A flock of sheep were feeding nigh, 
 
 But it seems they knew it not. 
 
 At length the lad began to scream, 
 A horny buck had tackled him. 
 "Don't run!" she said, "he naught can do 
 For we are Scientists, I and you." 
 
 "Yes, but the sheep don't know it," he said, 
 "And he might hook and kill me dead." 
 He then ran behind her for defense. 
 Saying, "Sheep have only common sense, 
 
 And we have kicked that out of door." 
 "We'll use," said she, "that stuff no more!" 
 Said he, "The sheep is out door, too, 
 And who can tell what he might do?" 
 
 "He can't hurt true Scientists," said she, 
 "And you know that, as well as me." 
 The lad replied, still full of dread,— 
 "Just see them horns on that buck's head!" 
 
 "There is no sheep, — 'tis imagination, 
 Nothing is real in all creation." 
 "I imagine that he is a real sheep," 
 Replied the lad, beginning to weep. 
 
 "And he might use them horns at my expense, 
 Since sheep have only common sense." 
 The frightened lad clung to her dress; 
 Which seemed to put her in distress. 
 
 "We'd better climb that fence," said she, 
 "For see! he's coming straight towards me!" 
 And so they ran and climbed the fence. 
 Saying, "Sheep have only common sense. 
 
 We are Scientists though, as sure as a gun. 
 But the sheep don't know it, — see him run." 
 They are now at home and out of reach. 
 This dev'lish, foolish stuff they teach; 
 
 210 
 
Are Scientists still, just as before 
 (The sheep and sense are out of door), 
 But were compelled, in self defense. 
 To use a little common sense. 
 
 MORAL. 
 
 We had better use some common sense, 
 E're we are forced to climb the fence. 
 Let each one mind this simple rule 
 Lest he at length should be a fool. 
 Let each one place in God reliance 
 Nor ever trust in a false science. 
 When in danger, our best defense 
 Will be to use our common sense. 
 'Tis the wisest thing that can be done. 
 If we happen to have it of our own. 
 
 If we've no defense nor common sense. 
 
 The best thing that we can do is then 
 
 To call on God or call on men 
 
 To help us out at our expense. 
 
 Good sense will do for common sense. 
 
 ROBBING PETER TO PAY PAUL. 
 
 One night as I lay musing 
 In soliloquy or dream. 
 
 My conscience seemed accusing 
 Me of doing something mean. 
 
 "Oh, what can be the matter?" 
 Said my sympathetic wife, 
 
 "You've never been so restless 
 In all our married life. 
 
 Sure, you've not been defrauding 
 
 Or cheating any one? 
 But what m.akes you so restless, 
 
 If no evil you have done?" 
 
 "No, not exactly cheating, 
 (Call it a softer name!) 
 
 And yet our last year's preacher 
 Might think it just the same. 
 
 "My wife, I have been using 
 Some craftiness, that's all, — 
 
 Just robbing good old Peter 
 To pay young brother Paul. 
 
 211 
 
I've hit upon a notion, 
 
 And I'll tell you, it is boss; 
 Just make our last year's preacher 
 
 Buy our present one a hoss. 
 
 "We must be as wise as serpents, 
 The Bible says, you know. 
 
 We shall have to do some twisting 
 While prices are so low. 
 
 It will not be very harmful 
 
 So slick a thing to do, — 
 Just take the old man's wages 
 
 And pay it to the new." 
 
 "But why are you so restless, — 
 If no harm in this you see? 
 
 If 'tis right, why you are sleepless, 
 Is a mystery to me. 
 
 Our actions are reflecting 
 
 Our inner self quite true. 
 'Tis not what we're professing. 
 
 So much, as what we do. 
 
 "Shall we pay off the mortgage 
 In legal form we've signed, — 
 
 While our moral obligations, 
 Our conscience, never bind? 
 
 'Tis what might be expected,— 
 That we feel inward pain. 
 
 When we see ourselves reflected, 
 Through our unrighteous gain. 
 
 "We promised him each farthing 
 We'd signed our names to pay, 
 
 And gave him much assurance 
 Upon our parting day. 
 
 Suppose we owed one grocer 
 And his rival grocer 'd pay,— 
 
 What would he whom we're owing. 
 Be likely then to say?" 
 
 I dreamed 'twould save much bother. 
 That such things oft were seen; 
 
 Make one hand wash the other 
 Till both of them were clean; 
 
 That he from whom we'd parted 
 Was old and must be tough, 
 
 That he'd preached long for nothing 
 And could stand it well enough. 
 
 212 
 
Dreamed my wife began retorting, 
 
 The way the adage goes, 
 "If God's cause you're not supporting 
 
 Then you must feed his crows." 
 
 I dreamed I kept on trying 
 To work on my own plan; 
 
 My subscription pledge applying 
 Unto the present man. 
 
 Dreamed whatever she was saying, 
 I still kept this in view, — 
 
 To make our last year's preacher 
 Fit a rig out for the new; 
 
 Thus make the one subscription 
 Which I'd made a year ago 
 
 Fully answer the description 
 Of paying off the two. 
 
 "But when, upon my waking 
 
 I found it was a dream. 
 And an object lesson taking, 
 
 How wicked it did seem! 
 
 So I was set to thinking. 
 
 From my restless dream that night. 
 From no duty to be shirking. 
 
 But to serve each preacher right. 
 
 Now, if any man or woman, 
 Who reads this little rhyme. 
 
 Should see themselves reflected 
 In the mirror of my dream, — 
 
 Whosoever shall discover 
 His portrait then at all, — 
 
 Refrain from robbing Peter 
 To pay his brother, Paul! 
 
 If at your conscience window 
 
 You ever come to hark, 
 Tho no one else observes you, — 
 
 Your schemes are in the dark, — 
 
 Say, "Get behind me, satan! 
 
 For I will do the right." 
 'Twill save you from such trouble 
 
 As came to me that night. 
 
 For as you prize your welfare. 
 
 And seek eternal life. 
 You should be as true to conscience 
 
 As husband should to wife, 
 
 213 
 
Then, when from death's long sleeping 
 God's voice shall bid you rise, 
 
 With gladnes, not with weeping, 
 You'll ope' your joyful eyes. 
 
 The time is surely coming, — 
 Of this there is no doubt, — 
 
 Whatever be your covering. 
 Your sin will find you out. 
 
 If in wrong ways you're walking 
 
 And satan whispers peace 
 (For he often comes round talking 
 And telling lies like these). 
 
 Refer him to the judgment. 
 Where each of us must stand 
 
 Like sheep and goats of shepherds, 
 On the right, or else left hand. 
 
 You should contemplate no project 
 
 That is not just and true 
 But should always do to others 
 
 As you'd have them do to you. 
 
 If you were good old Peter, 
 And I young brother Paul, 
 
 And "folks gave me your earnings, 
 'Twould not suit you at all. 
 
 I have told to you my revery. 
 And there can be no doubt. 
 
 If you should read it carefully 
 You'll pick its meaning out 
 
 And pay your last year's preacher 
 The sum you've promised him. 
 
 'Twill m.ake you sleep more soundly 
 And save from troubled dream. 
 
 And then, upon your waking 
 From death and its long sleep. 
 
 The Christ, the Heavenly shepherd, 
 Will own you for his sheep. 
 
 But if you sear your conscience 
 By drawing tight your purse, 
 
 And swindling the old preacher, 
 'Twill bring on you a curse. 
 
 And when you wake to judgment, 
 With trembling there you'll stand. 
 
 Depart! will be your sentence. 
 With those on the left hand. 
 
 214 
 
We'll conclude now, this whole matter 
 
 The very best we can; 
 " 'Tis as wrong to cheat a preacher 
 
 As any other man." 
 
 THE DISCONSOLATE MOTHER. 
 
 Yes, fond mother, thy grief is great, 
 Pining and grieving o'er thy fate. 
 
 In sadness all forlorn! 
 Who in thy heart dost nurse thy grief 
 Sadly, as if some midnight thief 
 
 Had kidnapped thy first born. 
 
 Thy heavy grief doth make thee wild, 
 While thinking of thy darling child 
 
 As only in the tomb. 
 It was thine own, sweet turtle dove,— 
 Thine own heart's idol thou didst love,- 
 
 The child of thine own womb. 
 
 Yes, thou art thinking of its toys. 
 Its goo-goos and it cooing noise, 
 
 Of its ring and rattle; 
 Of its ruby cheek, so dimple. 
 And its trust in thee, so simple. 
 
 And its childish prattle. 
 
 Thou thinkest it a dreadful curse 
 That took thy darling from its nurse — 
 
 From thy fond caressing. 
 But thy Lord and Saviour knows,— 
 Yea, He who seeth all thy woes 
 
 Pronounceth it a blessing. 
 
 Lo, her toys no more she scatters! 
 No, nor prattles she, nor chatters, 
 
 Nor babbles,— oh! so cute! 
 Once, her eyes were thee pursuing, 
 Whatsoever thou wert doing,— 
 
 But now she's still and mute. 
 
 She jerketh not her little bib,— 
 Nor stirs her quiet little crib; 
 
 No dimpled hand is rocking. 
 Thou art mourning her for years. 
 As thou lookest through thy tears, 
 
 At her tiny little stocking. 
 
 215 
 
Thou complainest of God's dealing,— 
 And with hardness in thy feehng, 
 
 As Naomi's heart of old. 
 Many years from Jesus straying, 
 Nor watching thou, — nor praying, 
 
 Nor entering Jesus' fold. 
 
 Why art thou not submissive? 
 At least thou shouldst be passive, — 
 
 Much worse it might have been. 
 But for this stroke, there's none can tell 
 But that thou wouldst have led to hell, 
 
 By leading her to sin. 
 
 Jesus sees thee almost dying, — 
 Knows thy grief, — thy spells of crying 
 
 O'er the baby's neglected toys. 
 Lo, he hears thy sad complaining! 
 Yea, he knows there's nought remaining, 
 
 Of all thy withered joys. 
 
 Go with me, now, to yonder fountain 
 Gushing from yon rugged mountain. 
 
 See a shepherd with his flocks. 
 Driving his sheep unto his fold 
 As Jacob did in times of old; 
 
 See! o'er the hills and rocks. 
 
 One careless sheep of his doth stray, — 
 For look! she's wandering far away, — 
 
 A lamb is by her side! 
 The shepherd calls, — but all in vain! 
 His straying sheep doth still remain 
 
 At distance far and wide. 
 
 But look! she's straying to her cost; 
 For lo! her lamb may soon be lost 
 
 In mountain, cold and bare; 
 For in her wandering far away. 
 Some evil beast may find and slay 
 
 And drag it to his lair. 
 
 See, the good shepherd for her grieves, 
 While all his flock of sheep he leaves 
 
 To seek the straying one. 
 The shepherd finds his sheep alive. 
 And to his fold he seeks to drive, — 
 
 But she strays still further on. 
 
 Come, now behold what he doth do 
 To save alive his straying ewe. 
 
 And bring her to his fold! 
 Her lamb he taketh in his arm. 
 And thus he brings it safe from harm, 
 
 From hunger and from cold. 
 
 216 
 
Long from Jesus thou wast straying. 
 And in thy evil heart was saying, — 
 
 "I'll follow my own way!" 
 Jesus sought for thy affection; 
 By mercies wooed, without correction,- 
 
 But thou didst further stray. 
 
 Then Jesus took thy darling babe, 
 And in his precious arms he laid 
 
 And bore it far away 
 From its toys, — from ring and rattle. 
 And from all its earthly prattle, 
 
 To fields of endless day. 
 
 Now, thou canst not hear its prattle, 
 And it shaketh not its rattle, 
 
 But plays on harps of gold. 
 Thy darling has a better home. 
 Where it shall never stray nor roam, — 
 
 For 'tis safe in Jesus' fold. 
 
 In his love to thee, and pity, 
 Jesus took it to that city, — 
 
 On streets of gold to play. 
 Jesus placed a crown and garland 
 On the head of thy sweet darling, — 
 
 That thou no more shouldst stray. 
 
 Now thy precious Lord is saying, 
 "Child, repent of all thy straying" 
 
 Thus cause joy in heaven, 
 While the angel harps are ringing 
 And thy angel babe is singing 
 
 For joy, thou art forgiven. 
 
 'Tis true thy darling child is dead; 
 Yet call to mind what Jesus said, — 
 
 Is saying now to thee. 
 How when the parents disbelieved, — 
 Forbade the children,— Christ was grieved. 
 
 Saying, "Let them come to me!" 
 
 And seest thou in Him no charms 
 Who took thy treasure in his arms, 
 
 A blessing to impart! 
 A jewel made it in his crown, 
 A seraph, dwelling near his throne, 
 
 To win thy sinful heart. 
 
 And casteth thou away all joys,— 
 Because thy angel babe employs 
 
 In joyful strains of praise 
 To God, the Father, on his throne. 
 And to the ever blessed Son, 
 
 Its powers through endless days? 
 
 817 
 
There, no temptation e'er shall meet, 
 Nor Satan's snares beguile its feet,— 
 
 No cares disturb its breast. 
 No wave of trouble e'er shall roll 
 Across thy infant's spotless soul, — 
 
 So calm and sweet its rest. 
 
 Come to Jesus, humbly kneeling! 
 Come by faith, and not by feeling,— 
 
 Leave all thy evil ways! 
 Turn from thy neglect,— thy straying. 
 All thy murmuring turn to praying, — 
 
 And God will give thee grace. 
 
 Thy Father gave to thee each .blessing; 
 Sought to win thee by caressing, — 
 
 But thou didst still depart. 
 Yes, the cup he gave was bitter. 
 Still he loves and calls thee daughter, 
 
 And asks for thy poor heart. 
 
 God only took what he had given, — 
 Thy infant child took home to Heaven, 
 
 Because thou would'st not come. 
 He, by gospel means invited. 
 And when all these means were slighted. 
 
 He took thy darling lamb. 
 
 Jesus seeks not to distract thee, 
 But he took it to attract thee 
 
 To treasure, up above. 
 Once, his life for thee was given, 
 That he might safely bring to Heaven 
 
 Thy soul, by dying love. 
 
 To range the fields of Eden bright, 
 Thy robes in Jesus' blood made white; 
 
 Thy babe meet on that shore 
 Beneath the Rock of Ages cleft. 
 Where thou shall never be bereft,— 
 
 Nor ever sorrow more. 
 
 Let Christ gird thy soul with gladness! 
 Let him take away thy sadness! 
 
 From God no longer stray. 
 Come, lift aloft thy longing eyes! 
 See there, thy treasure in the skies. 
 
 Come, now begin to pray! 
 
 And in Heaven, through endless years. 
 Nor pain, nor sickness, death, nor tears. 
 
 Nor straying from the fold; 
 But in Heaven holy, dwelling; 
 Of Jesus' love be ever telling. 
 
 On angel harps of gold. 
 
 218 
 
There thy babe, whose happy spirit 
 Those bright Elysian fields inherit, 
 
 Now beckons thee away. 
 Look where its tiny, Httle feet 
 Are walking now the golden street 
 
 In everlasting day! 
 
 Oh, in that upper, better land 
 Thou'lt grasp again its angel hand. 
 
 With joys which can't be told! 
 
 And there, thy bliss will be complete, 
 Thou'lt cast thy crown at Jesus' feet, 
 
 Who brought thee to His fold. 
 
 IN MEMORY OF SISTER WIL- 
 LIAMS. 
 
 Dear Sister Williams, I rejoice 
 That ever I have met with you. 
 
 Have seen your face, have heard your voice 
 Proclaiming Christ, so ably, too. 
 
 You, truly, are of Jesus sent, 
 
 To testify the grace of God, 
 To call poor sinners to repent 
 
 And trust the merit of His blood. 
 
 You've pointed out and made so plain 
 
 Our privilege; our duty, too. 
 That perfect love we may obtain, — 
 
 This truth you seemed to have in view. 
 
 Not only may, but that we must. 
 
 Would we the royal law fulfil, 
 Have perfect love, have perfect trust, 
 
 And do our Father's perfect will. 
 
 My soul has drunk in every word. 
 
 And it has roused from lethargy. 
 You've been a mouth-piece for the Lord, 
 
 A trumpet note to waken me. 
 
 And I'll go forth, with doubled zeal 
 
 To testify this gospel grace. 
 I'd have you know and have you feel 
 
 That I am glad I've seen your face. 
 
 I magnify God's grace in you. 
 
 Memento this that you may know 
 
 That I esteem and highly, too; 
 
 And may God bless you where you go. 
 
 219 
 
And may the seed thus by you sown, 
 On land which seems so hard and cold, 
 
 Watered by grace, in hearts, sink down. 
 Spring up and bring a hundred fold. 
 
 We part perhaps to meet no more 
 Until the judgment trump shall sound, 
 
 But we shall meet on Canaan's shore, 
 If faithful we at last are found. 
 
 Now, while you sow in wider field 
 And cast the seed with stronger hand 
 
 And gather sheaves, a mighty yield. 
 
 From place to place throughout the land, 
 
 I ask an interest in your prayers; 
 
 That in some humbler patch of land, 
 While I am going here and there. 
 
 And sowing with a feebler hand. 
 
 That God will open up my way 
 And give me skill, in my last years. 
 
 To sow by faith from day to day. 
 
 Then reap in joy what's sown in tears. 
 
 Yes, when our toiling days are o'er. 
 Our labor, with our lives, laid down. 
 
 At Jesus' feet, on that blest shore. 
 
 We'll bring our sheaves and take our crown. 
 
 Our greatest joys in heaven will be 
 O'er souls that we have garnered in, 
 
 Rescued from wreckage on life's sea, 
 And gathered from wide fields of sin; 
 
 To see our Lord's approving smile 
 
 When we present the soul's we've won, 
 
 'Twill more than pay for all our toil. 
 To hear Him say to us, "Well done!" 
 
 He's with us now, on life's rough sea, 
 Supporting with His arms of love, 
 
 Will bring us safe with Him to be 
 Forever in God's house above. 
 
 Amen! Amen! So may it be 
 The happy lot of you and me. 
 
 GEORGE D. POTTER. 
 Hutchinson, May 14, 1899. 
 
 220 
 
HE WILL CAUSE A BANNER TO BE 
 
 DISPLAYED BECAUSE OF 
 
 THE TRUTH. 
 
 The prophets and seers, 
 
 Looking down through the years, 
 Saw salvation proclaimed to the world; 
 
 Glad news of the Savior, 
 
 Lifted up by God's favor- 
 Lifted up as a banner unfurled. 
 
 Saw it wave in the breeze. 
 Like the leaves of the trees. 
 
 Proclaiming God's love everywhere- 
 Shouting "Mercy is free. 
 For you and for me," 
 
 Heard the gospel proclaimers declare. 
 
 Saw the watchmen on the wall; 
 
 Heard them to sinners call: 
 "The night is far spent, the day is at hand— 
 
 Ye captive exiles, rise! 
 
 Mercy free, from the skies. 
 Is showered all over the land. 
 
 "To faith it was displayed, 
 
 Ere the atonement was made. 
 Yes, prophets all saw the gospel banner." 
 
 Heard ministers proclaim 
 
 Redemption in His name; 
 Heard pardoned sinners shouting, Hosannah! 
 
 What sacrifice they made. 
 That truth might be displayed, 
 
 That souls might find the dear Savior. 
 They count all things but dross. 
 Counting worldly gain as loss. 
 
 To show God's great love and His favor. 
 
 Yes, holy men of old, 
 
 Our Savior's love foretold, 
 Saw God's banner of truth displayed,— 
 
 Saw Christ for sinners slain. 
 
 Heard ministers proclaim,^^ 
 "Himself, He a sacrifice made." 
 
 "The good shepherd sought me, 
 
 To his banquet house brought me, 
 In the heavens, emblazoned above. 
 
 Faith's eyesight so keen. 
 
 This banner has seen, 
 His banner o'er me was pure love." 
 
 221 
 
Thus the prophets proclaim, 
 
 The Savior's great name; 
 Have visions of the gospel's bright day; 
 
 The gospel sun to rise, 
 
 To lighten our dark eyes. 
 And drive all our darkness away. 
 
 Arise now and shine! 
 
 For His love's light divine, 
 Has shone from his glory upon thee. 
 
 To doubt give thou no place. 
 
 But trust God for His grace. 
 For His mercy stands ready to crown thee. 
 
 The Day-spring from on high, 
 
 Unto you has come nigh, 
 Arise, ye! and walk in His light! 
 
 Thus the prophets proclaim 
 
 Long years 'fore He came 
 That Christ of the world is the Light. 
 
 Life eternal He giveth 
 
 To him that believeth; 
 His grace is so freely now given. 
 
 He arose from the grave 
 
 And is mighty to save. 
 And to give us the kingdom of heaven. 
 
 "Ho! ye thirsty! draw nigh 
 
 To this fountain," they cry. 
 Broad rivers of love are now flowing. 
 
 The fountains of His grace 
 
 Flow to all the lost race,— 
 And trees of paradise are growing. 
 
 "If His cross you will bear. 
 Of that fountain you'll share," 
 
 The Savior Himself is now calling. 
 Now, believe and be blest. 
 Take His yoke and find rest. 
 
 For showers of blessings are falling. 
 
 Oh! hear Jesus' sweet voice, 
 
 And your heart will rejoice, 
 And so will the angels of heaven. 
 
 And His banner of love, 
 
 And of truth from above. 
 Will proclaim all your sins forgiven. 
 
 And how glad you will feel 
 
 When His sweetness shall steal 
 O'er your heart now cleansed from all sin. 
 
 When the blood is applied 
 
 Of the once crucified. 
 And the Savior is dwelling within. 
 
 222 
 
When your heart's filled with love, 
 
 And your treasure's above, 
 You will wish this bright banner to raise; 
 
 Your breath will be prayer. 
 
 And you'll laden the air. 
 By day and by night, with His praise. 
 
 You will mingle your song 
 With the blood-washed throng, 
 
 Who are always proclaiming His praise. 
 Redeemed by His blood, 
 Sons and heirs now of God, 
 
 And saved from all sin by His grace. 
 
 What brightness you'll find, 
 
 And what joy to your mind. 
 Not the tongue of an angel could tell. 
 
 Christ will bid you good cheer; 
 
 "Perfect love casts out fear," 
 And saves from the torment of hell. 
 
 'Twill appear unto you, 
 "All things are made new," 
 
 New hopes, new aspirations, new joys, 
 New purposes of life, — 
 Saved the world's mad strife, 
 
 New songs your glad tongue employs. 
 
 While filled with His love. 
 
 And your treasure's above, 
 A new creation now comes into view. 
 
 Since your sins He has taken, 
 
 You'll not be forsaken, 
 For, behold! He maketh all things new. 
 
 223 
 
LETTER OF CONDOLENCE. 
 
 Boon Lake, Minn., April 18, 1905. 
 Mr. and Mrs. Howard Tyson, Amarillo, Tex.: 
 Dear Grandson and Granddaughter, Howard 
 and Fanny: 
 
 I heard you've lost your darling child, 
 That you, with grief, are almost wild. 
 
 I doubt not but your baby boy 
 Was dear to you, was half your joy. 
 
 Howard, I could not help but cry,— 
 Tho great-grandson, yet he seem'd nigh. 
 
 But he is in Christ's arms of love. 
 Securely in God's house above; 
 
 Has left this world of death and pain, 
 Nor ever will return again. 
 
 He has escaped from all its cares. 
 From all of Satan's wiles and snares. 
 
 He dwells secure from all alarm; 
 This world cannot allure nor charm. 
 
 What the Bible teaches is quite true, 
 Your boy cannot return to you. 
 
 No earthly tears his eyes shall dim, 
 By grace, you both may go to him. 
 
 Our Jesus took him out of love, 
 So set your hearts on things above. 
 
 Look upward to the better land. 
 Where Jesus sits at God's right hand! 
 
 The Lord is calling you to come, 
 And while He calls there yet is room. 
 
 Death entered once our little fold 
 And took a child of two years old. 
 
 And from death's quiver came a dart 
 That left me with a bleeding heart. 
 
 I now can sympathize with you, 
 Can weep a little with you, too. 
 
 But, loved ones, we must pass away, 
 What matters it how short the stay? 
 
 If we have on the robes of light. 
 
 By faith in Jesus' blood made white. 
 
 We'll go to dwell on Canaan's shore. 
 With loved ones that have gone before. 
 Your grandfather, 
 
 G. D. POTTER. 
 
 224 
 
WHEN JESUS WAS PREACHING. 
 
 When Jesus His gospel was preaching — 
 When He was the multitudes teaching, 
 
 They heard Him with wonder profound; 
 While by parable simple and plain, 
 The truths which He taught did explain, 
 
 As He told how the lost son was found. 
 
 By the publican smiting His breast. 
 He show'd, ere the sinner was blest, 
 
 That he must repent of his sin; 
 Ere he walks in the way which is strait, 
 He for mercy must knock at His gate, 
 
 For no trifler can enter therein. 
 
 His words, to bear fruit and last, 
 
 In the depths of the soul must be cast, 
 
 Or else 'twill soon wither away. 
 Religion must be the first thing. 
 And Christ must be crowned as one's King; 
 
 In his heart must have His full sway. 
 
 Many parables Jesus was speaking 
 
 Of those who God's Kingdom were seeking, 
 
 But who never could enter therein. 
 Those who missed the joy of their Lord, 
 And the blest and glowing reward, 
 
 On account of their idols, their sin. 
 
 As the sunlight. He made this truth plain. 
 That if ever the prize we would gain, 
 
 Day by day we must take up our cross. 
 We must follow His teaching divine. 
 On others must let our light shine. 
 
 Sinful gains must count only loss; 
 
 That trees which no good fruitage bears. 
 Will share the same fate as tares; 
 
 Tho' some folks their own heart deceive; 
 Altho' negative Christians they are. 
 With names on the church book so fair. 
 
 Yet are curst, for they only bear leaves. 
 
 He shows how people God's mercies abuse; 
 Make light of His message, His bounty refuse, 
 
 While their weak excuses they form. 
 One has purchased some chattel, 
 And must now prove those cattle, 
 
 If they're the right thing for the farm. 
 
 225 
 (15) 
 
To illustrate this subject or text, 
 He tells of another man next, 
 
 Who has purchased a parcel of land. 
 He must, of course, go and see 
 How good or how bad it may be, — 
 
 Perhaps it is covered with sand. 
 
 Another declares that he cannot come; 
 He has just brougTit a wife to his home. 
 
 His reasoning's like that of a beast, — 
 For he might have had her along, too,- 
 That's what a sensible person would do, 
 
 But he thought not, that his wife, too, could 
 feast! 
 
 On things of the world, and himself, 
 
 Are the thoughts of the worldling set, 
 
 Tho' his wife could have eaten pie, too, 
 'Twas just what she wanted, you bet. 
 
 But sin is so selfish and blind. 
 
 It thinks not and cares not for others; 
 
 It seems not to enter the mind 
 
 That all are our sisters and brothers. 
 
 This world is but a dressing room. 
 
 In which to fit for Heaven; 
 To trust in Christ and know in whom 
 
 Our sins may be forgiven. 
 
 A feast of love in Christ is spread 
 
 Before the starving mind. 
 But sinners leave it all for husks. 
 
 And feed on chaff and wind. 
 
 But, like Mary, I will choose 
 
 My portion with the blest; 
 The husks of time I will refuse 
 
 And be the Saviour's guest. 
 
 The gospel feast is spread for all. 
 
 He calls all to the feast; 
 Let every soul accept the call! 
 
 For here is peace and rest. 
 
 226 
 
EVANGELICAL VERSUS LEGAL. 
 
 I. 
 Have you not often pensive stood, 
 And thought of all the bad and good 
 That you had done— tried if you could 
 
 Find a balance in your favor; 
 Put all the good deeds in the fore, 
 Called bad deeds foibles, nothing more; 
 And when you'd conned it o'er and o'er, 
 
 Did you win out? No, never! 
 
 II. 
 
 And so, my friends, it was with me. 
 Which in the sequel you will see. 
 In this I failed most signally, 
 
 As every one must do. 
 There is a holier, better way, 
 Which leads to God and endless day, 
 And I'm commissioned, too, to say, 
 
 The Cross for me and you. 
 
 Ill 
 
 There was a time, my friends, when I 
 
 Did under a delusion lie; 
 
 Come, harken, and I'll tell you why: 
 
 I trusted self alone; 
 I left my Saviour out of sight. 
 And thought to Heaven to take my flight. 
 Because I'd tithed each mint and mite. 
 
 Had many such things done. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Tho friends did long contend with me, 
 Tried to convince and make me see 
 That it was Christ, and not poor me, 
 
 Did the redeeming act, 
 I kept the Pharisee within. 
 The outside of the platter clean. 
 Said, "By my works I'll enter in, 
 
 I will, tho, for a fact." 
 
 V. 
 
 I said "I'll search God's Word and see 
 How many credit-marks there be 
 Which he has written down for me — 
 
 Many, I fondly hope." 
 Methought, of course, I shall feel glad. 
 But found what made me sick and sad. 
 That my whole life was counted bad. 
 
 Self-goodness shriveled up. 
 
 227 
 
VI. 
 
 How troubled and how pained my heart 
 That with the Righteous I'd no part; 
 I seemed to hear Him say, "Depart!" 
 
 I cried, "Where shall I flee?" 
 For all my boasting tongue now brags 
 (When He to light my motive drags) 
 Were only counted filthy rags! 
 
 What will become of me? 
 
 VII. 
 
 From self-righteousness I turned away. 
 My mouth was stopped, what could I say? 
 A Voice then whispered, "I'm the way, 
 
 Troubled soul, come unto Me." 
 I saw in Christ an open door; 
 Then ceased Mount Sinai's thunder's roar; 
 Such joy I never felt before — 
 
 Nor dreamed that it could be. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 He has renewed my heart and mind; 
 What comfort now in Him I find; 
 Self-righteous rags are left behind — 
 
 I trust the Crucified. 
 For me He was an offering made; 
 Yea, all my sins were on Him laid. 
 And on the Cross my debt He paid. 
 
 Trusting, I'm justified. 
 
 IX. 
 
 I know, according to His Word, 
 The blood of Jesus Christ, my Lord 
 (Forever be His name adored) 
 
 Has washed me white as snow. 
 When I surrendered self and sin 
 And sought His face, He took me in, 
 He washed my heart and made me clean; 
 
 His Spirit tells me so. 
 
 X. 
 
 His Spirit witnesseth with mine, 
 I feel His blood from sin refine, 
 And now for folly I've no time 
 
 Since grace has set me free. 
 How sweet the fleeting moments glide! 
 I'm trusting in the Crucified, 
 And all my wants are now supplied; 
 
 His fullness dwells in me. 
 
 228 
 
XI. 
 
 Come all who doubt Christ's power to save, 
 
 Who sink beneath temptation's wave, 
 
 And shrink from death and dread the grave; 
 
 Come seek, and you shall find 
 There is no case, and cannot be, 
 But what the Lord can set you free 
 From cords of sin that's binding^ thee. 
 
 And give you peace of mind. 
 
 XII. 
 
 Come, worldly men, whose lives are fair, 
 Who deal up to the scratch, deal square,— 
 Seem better than professors are,— 
 
 Straighter than them you walk. 
 That will not do, I'll tell you why;— 
 The standard we must measure by. 
 It does not seem to catch your eye. 
 
 Your boasting is but talk. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 Let no man of his goodness boast, 
 By nature all are dead and lost, 
 'Till Jesus by the Holy Ghost 
 
 Has formed our hearts anew. 
 'Till we renounce the way of night. 
 And walk in Christ, the Truth, the Light, 
 Who always guides his people right,— 
 
 Crowns them with blessings too. 
 
 XIV. 
 
 I've told you how I was a fool. 
 Measured myself by a false rule, 
 Which I obtained in nature's school. 
 
 And sadly was deceived. 
 And never found the least relief, 
 'Till like the guilty, dying thief, 
 I looked to Christ in true belief, 
 
 'Till he my soul relieved. 
 
 XV. 
 
 There's one thing I will say to you. 
 You know there is a way that's true, 
 And you know what you ought to do, — 
 
 Plunge in the crimson tide! 
 With Paul, count all as dung and dross; 
 All that was gain count it as loss; 
 Trust in the blood of Jesus' Cross,— 
 
 In Jesus crucified. 
 
 229 
 
XVI. 
 
 There is a time that's coming, when 
 The Lord will judge the sons of men, 
 And all will hear the Shepherd then— 
 
 When all before him stand: 
 The Shepherd, who his vigils keep. 
 Will separate the goats and sheep. 
 All kindreds of the earth shall weep 
 
 Who feel His powerful hand. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 He knows his sheep, is known of them; 
 Knows every one that's born again 
 'Mong all the million sons of men, 
 
 God's children are his heirs. 
 While all the saints rejoicing stand, 
 The heirs of God at his right hand, 
 Will enter and possess the land, 
 
 The inheritance is theirs. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 Among the goats at his left hand 
 The unregenerate, weeping stand. 
 "Depart," will be the king's command, 
 
 "To your place, to your reward; 
 Against conviction you did fight, 
 You sinned against my love and light, 
 Depart to everlastin night, 
 
 For demons once prepared. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 "I was confined in prison door. 
 Much want and sorrow then I bore, 
 'Twas in the persons of my poor, 
 
 You left and passed me by. 
 What you did to those of my name. 
 You did it unto me the same. 
 Forever you must bear the blame. 
 
 You heard my plaintive cry. 
 
 XX. 
 
 "I wandered, naked in your street. 
 Was hungry and you gave no meat. 
 Though I did often you entreat. 
 
 Plead with you, in rny poor. 
 I came in sickness and disease. 
 When you had wealth and lived in ease, 
 You let me almost starve and freeze, 
 
 While pleading at your door. 
 
 230 
 
XXI. 
 
 "You did delight to romp and revel. 
 To grind my poor to please the devil, 
 Neglected God and lived in evil, 
 
 Neglected true belief. 
 I find no place in Heaven for you; 
 Those crowns are for the pure and true. 
 Those gates the righteous enter through; 
 
 We never crown a thief. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 "You've spent your life, your time, your day, 
 In climbing up some other way, 
 I bid you now depart, away! 
 
 You'd rob God of his glory. 
 You cannot say you never knew 
 The good old way, so pure and true; 
 'Twas often pointed out to you, — 
 
 You've heard the old, old story. 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 "You knew that in the judgment great. 
 
 My sheep from goats I'd separate; 
 
 Yet still with goats you chose to mate,— 
 
 Your conduct seals your fate. 
 How oft I've stood at your heart's door 
 And knocked for entrance o'er and o'er! 
 I begged you to delay no more, 
 
 Nor slight my love so great. 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 "I often tarried, pleading, late. 
 
 And when with dew my hair was wet, 
 
 Still patiently I tarried yet. 
 
 Stood patient by your bed. 
 Oft sent my Spirit too, to strive 
 With you while you were still alive. 
 That your poor heart to me you'd give, 
 
 Nor left 'till you were dead. 
 
 XXV. 
 
 Now, friends, while writing this in rhyme 
 I will remind you how sublime 
 It is to live in this, our time; 
 
 'Mid light of Gospel day. 
 To live in free and Gospel land, 
 Where soul and intellect expand. 
 Where we have means at our command, 
 
 To find the Living Way. 
 
 231 
 
XXVI. 
 
 But time is rushing on so fast 
 
 With me, with all 'twill soon be passed, 
 
 And each in judgment stand at last, 
 
 Let us be wise in time! 
 Oh! may our souls be moved and stirred 
 By news of sudden deaths we've heard! 
 And faithful warnings of God's Word, 
 
 Its teaching so sublime! 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 Our time to work will soon be done; 
 The sands of life are almost run. 
 While life's day's work is scarce begun. 
 
 Work for Eternity. 
 We all should wear the robes of light. 
 In Jesus' blood made pure and white. 
 For who can tell but what tonight 
 
 The wedding feast may be. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 We owe to God, to self, to friends, 
 To work till life's short work-day ends. 
 And go wherever Jesus sends 
 
 To work in any field. 
 Come, let us seek to gather in 
 Some precious souls from fields of sin. 
 Some stars for Jesus' crown to win. 
 
 Have souls for Heaven sealed. 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 Some thoughts I've had which I'll recount, 
 When I was lonely on the mount 
 Or lingered dubious at the fount. 
 
 When clouds were in the sky. 
 I said, "Might I come nigh his seat. 
 And there my fears and doubts repeat, 
 Open my heart to him complete. 
 
 And hear my Lord's reply! 
 
 XXX. 
 
 "Oh! might it please the Lord that I 
 Might read His Word with searching eye, 
 See where my steps have gone awry; 
 
 All wrong, and fear, or doubt. 
 Each evil thought, or thought unclean. 
 Each straying step, where I have been 
 Inclined to walk in paths of sin, 
 
 I'd have all blotted out. 
 
 232 
 
XXXI. 
 
 "And all the steps where I've gone right, 
 Where shunned the paths of sin and night, 
 I'd have in letter large and bright, 
 
 So every one might read. 
 Well! since this life will soon be passed 
 And all my steps written down at last. 
 And not one step can be erased, 
 
 I'll to my ways take heed. 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 "Will now my crooked steps retrace. 
 And strive by mercy and by grace 
 To walk in high and holy ways. 
 
 In ways both strait and plain. 
 I'll strive to follow Christ, my Lord, 
 His daily mercies I'll record, 
 And meditate upon his Word, 
 
 I will the right maintain." 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 I opened the Book,— it showed to me 
 That tho my life henceforth should be 
 From thoughts and deeds of folly free,— 
 
 What of my life that's passed? 
 Still Justice must be satisfied; 
 A truth which cannot be denied. 
 God loves me, and the Saviour died; 
 
 On him my soul I cast. 
 
 XXXIV. 
 
 I hate my sins and trust his blood; 
 My soul is now at peace with God; 
 And now I walk the narrow road; 
 
 God honors now my trust. 
 My faith now holds his promise fast; 
 My hope within the veil is cast; 
 And I shall dwell with him at last; 
 
 When dust returns to dust. 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 I've tried to show to you the way. 
 And as I've nothing more to say, 
 I'll bid you, every one, good-day. 
 
 Who read my little book. 
 I hope you'll learn to trust and pray. 
 Now I'll be trudging on my way 
 To meet you in the judgment day, — 
 
 Among sheep for you I'll look. 
 
 I subjoin these beautiful lines of Prentis. 
 
 233 
 
XXXVI. 
 
 Alone I walked on the ocean's strand, 
 
 A pearly shell was in my hand, 
 
 I stooped, and wrote upon the sand 
 
 My name, the year, the day. 
 As onward from the spot I pass't. 
 One lingering look behind I cast, — 
 A wave came rolling high and fast 
 
 And washed my lines away. 
 
 XXXVII. 
 
 And so, I tho't, t'will quickly be 
 Of every mark on earth of me; 
 A wave of dark oblivious sea 
 
 Will sweep across the place 
 Where I have trod the sandy shore 
 Of time, and be to me no more; 
 Of me, my day, the name I bore, 
 
 To leave no track, or trace. 
 
 XXXVIII. 
 
 And yet with Him who counts the sands. 
 Who holds the waters in His hands, 
 I know a lasting record stands 
 
 Inscribed against my name. 
 Of all these busy hands have wrought. 
 Of all this thinking soul hath thought. 
 And from these fleeting moments caught. 
 
 For glory or for shame. 
 
 (I add this, my own.) 
 
 XXXIX. 
 
 What tho no more I walk earth's strand; 
 No more in pensive thought I stand. 
 My name no more inscribe in sand. 
 
 Yet on a brighter shore 
 My name is in the Book of Life 
 Where waves of trouble, turmoil, strife, 
 Can ne'er efface (nor malice rife) 
 
 My name; forevermore. 
 
 234 
 
THE OLD MAN'S LETTER TO HIS 
 FRIENDS. 
 
 Mi deer sisters and bruthers, 
 Nefyews, neases, and uthers, 
 
 Eye must try a short letter tew rite. 
 'Pears eye kan't dew no better 
 Than tew anser yer letter, 
 
 What tho' it are late in the nite. 
 
 And eye am thanking uv yew, 
 Hoo wuz so luvin' and trew, 
 
 Sich a horid good letter tew rite. 
 Yes, eye want yew tew kno 
 That it tickled me so, 
 
 Eye konkluded tew answer tew nite. 
 
 Yew axt uv mi helth, 
 
 Uv mi frens an' my welth. 
 
 Well, my helth air quite holesum, fer me; 
 
 Exceptin' mi rumytiz nee 
 
 And mi frens tha air well. 
 
 Fur uz eye kno an' kan tell. 
 
 Awl able tew eat an' take tee. 
 
 And awl az bizzy as bizzy kan be. 
 
 And I'm as rich as a Joo, 
 An' mutch ritcher, tew, 
 
 Koz we've a Savyor uv sinners to trust m; 
 Fer eye ax fer mi bred 
 Uv him, and it is sed . ^ 
 
 That His bank it ain't never a bustm . 
 
 Eye hev plenty tew eat, 
 
 Sich as taters an' meat, ^ , ^ 
 
 Fer eye keep rite on workin an axm . 
 So' mi bred, it air shoor, 
 While eye faithful endoor, ^ 
 
 And mi ban's and His promis keep taxin . 
 
 Fer mi back I hev klose, 
 
 Fer mi feat I hev shuze, 
 
 'Tiz the frute uv mi trust an' mi laber; 
 
 Fer God gives it tew me, 
 
 In this way, don't yew se, 
 
 Koz I'm luvin* miself az mi nabor. 
 
 Sence in this way 'tiz sent, 
 S'poze eye shood be kontent. 
 
 Eye wuz born without nuthin', thay say; 
 And must go az eye kame, 
 Without nuthin', the same. 
 
 In mi ban's karry nuthin' away. 
 
 235 
 
And the krops air lookin' fine, 
 Both my nabers krops an' mine; 
 But pertiklerly the rie, 
 Which is now six inches hi, 
 So ther'll be lots an' lots uv grain, 
 Fer the Kubins, starved by Spane, 
 And tew feed the hungry lips 
 Uv our solgers in our ships, 
 What's a helpin' Kuby's kause, 
 Soze they'll git holesum laws. 
 
 Now, them starvin' folks in Kuby 
 Air maid like eye an' yew be, 
 Thay air maid uv flesh an' blood. 
 Air by nater jest az good 
 Our nabers tew air they. 
 Not so vary fur away. 
 
 Oh, them kruel folks uv Spane 
 
 Whot blowd our warship Mane, 
 
 We shal haf tew mak 'em feel 
 
 Sum muskit shot and steal 
 
 Before thay'll set the Kubins free; 
 
 Get off the ile an' let 'em be. 
 
 An' fur ol that we kin tell, 
 
 We must send sum shot and shell. 
 
 Tew sink them Spanish ships, yew kno, 
 
 Befor thay'll let the Kubins go.* 
 
 Well, the rodes air settlin' down, 
 Soze we kin drive tew town 
 
 An' get our pickters took, 
 Whot yew axt uv us ter send 
 
 Soze yew kin take a look 
 At the likenis uv yer frend, 
 Hoos aged form begins tew bend, 
 Hoos fotsteeps toward the tume duth tend. 
 
 (The pickters yew sent us last nite 
 Kame tew us 'thout brakin', all rite). 
 Thay did indead an' in trooth. 
 Eye sed that's Jake, an' that's Rooth. 
 But yer hare is a gitin' sum white. 
 
 So is mine an' Murlindy's hare, tew, 
 Gitin' old, yer jest about rite. 
 
 Eye cood sea at wonst it woz yew. 
 
 *This was written at the beginning of the war 
 with Spain, and is, seemingly, almost a 
 prophesy, read in the light of history. 
 
 236 
 
Yes pickters all air trew tew life, 
 Pertikler so is Rooth's, yer wife; 
 Seam'd jist like ey'd met with yew, 
 Woz awl most sayin', "Howdy dew." 
 Reacht out mi hand tew shake, 
 Sayin' "Howdy, Rooth and Jake!" 
 Fer the Land uv massy's sake, 
 Hoo kin sich pickters take? 
 
 Yer letter speeks Murlindy's name 
 And eye'm thankin' uv yew for the same. 
 Eye seed the teers run down her cheeks 
 When reedin' whot yer letter speeks; 
 She reeds it all out loud tew me, — 
 Eye kant reed ritin' mutch, yew see, 
 Exceptin' it iz rit hi me. 
 Foks spell the words so queer an' bad 
 Mixes it so it makes me sad. 
 
 But Murlindy makes it out yew sea. 
 She's jest the thing rite now fer me; 
 Fer God perjekted her tew be 
 A real help mate ontew me. 
 Its fifty yers sens furst i went 
 Tew sea Murlindy with intent. 
 Mi love woz hot, i went in hast 
 An lade won arm about hur waste: 
 
 Eye droo hur klose ontew mi side 
 An axt hur if. she'd be mi bride. 
 She blusht an gave me hur konsent 
 So off tew Elder Spink's we went. 
 We kut a kross lots throo the wood. 
 Eye wuz spri at waukin' — she as good. 
 It took us ni ontew a nour 
 Konsistin' uv our wedin' tower. 
 
 He hitched us up, he sed, fer life; 
 Maid me hur husbin — hur mi wife. 
 Nun stood betwixt — nun stood beside — 
 Eye kisst hur an she air mi brid. 
 Fer God perjekted hur tew bee 
 Mi wife, yes, maid hur jest fer me. 
 Them fifty years uv whitch eye tell 
 Untew yew now air quite a spell, 
 
 We oil wore home spun kloze yew know. 
 Made out uv flax an hemp an tow. 
 Murlindy baked our kakes on bords, — 
 Tew dip our wotter we yoosed gords. 
 No stoves nur tinware then had we, 
 Sich trumpery then yew'd never sea. 
 Our babys roked in dugout troff; — 
 Yoosed gardin yerbs fer hoopin' koff. 
 
 237 
 
Murlindy'd spin an nit an so 
 And help me skutch the flax yew kno. 
 We workt uv daze an danst at nite — 
 Fergitin God an oil that's rite, 
 And uthers playd at the same game, 
 Fer evry day we workt the same. 
 
 No Sundy had we then yew kno 
 Till Elder Spinks an meatins kame 
 An turnd us awl frum awl our waze 
 Tew keep God's loz an sing His praze; 
 But that wuz years and years ago. 
 
 Murlindy air zaktly jest the same 
 Az when she hitcht ontew mi name 
 It seems God maid hur fur mi wife 
 Tew jurny bi mi side thru life 
 Like Eve fer Adum he maid she 
 Mi helpmate an mi wife tew be. 
 
 Nun ever did a beter job 
 
 Than whot he did fer me; 
 
 He maid hur zaktly tew mi likes 
 
 No kritter iz like she. 
 
 She noze jest whot eye like tew eat 
 An jest how dun an jest how sweet 
 Tiz the planest thing on urth yew sea 
 God made Murlindy fer tew bee 
 Mi wife — yes, maid hur jest fer me. 
 She darns mi soks an mends mi kloze 
 An hunderd uther things duz she 
 Fer oil mi wonts she olwayz nose 
 Speeks soothin words also tew me 
 Is good an luvin as kin bee 
 Koz God perjekted her fer me 
 An maid me tew I spose fer she. 
 
 I rekin we air a gitin sum old 
 
 Least wise its that whot we've bin told 
 
 But Murlindy's hansumer an ever 
 
 Spoze she'd look old onto me 
 
 Eye tel yew it kin never bee 
 
 She kant lok old onto me never. 
 
 Why them swet rinkles on hur fase 
 
 Only inhansis hur buty an grase 
 
 She air the luvinist wife yew ever sea 
 
 And eye kno God maid hur fer me. 
 
 Tew size hur by hur bulk and wait 
 Quite small she sems tew bee 
 But take hur at hur real worth, 
 Shes twise az big yew sea. 
 
 238 
 
She is jest exazkly size an wait 
 Whot eye wood have hur bee 
 God maid hur exazkly tew mi like 
 And maid hur jist fur me. 
 
 Eye skurs kood git along atoll 
 In the jurny uv mi life 
 Eksept Murlindy wauked with me 
 Eksept Murlindy wure mi wife. 
 
 She wauks exazkly mi own gait 
 
 But hur tungs more spri than mine 
 
 It runs at a more rapid rate 
 
 Gives precept on precept, line on line, 
 
 Hur words air wize — she alwayz speaks 
 
 Instruktinly yew sea 
 
 An shes perlite az wel as wize 
 
 Fur az that siance goze. 
 
 She speeks with deferans on tew me 
 Sayz pleez dew wip yer noze 
 God maid Murlindy, tung an awl 
 And maid hur awl fer me. 
 
 Eye dedikate these lines 
 Ontew Murlindy yew sea 
 Kause she is so good 
 And so luvin tew me. 
 
 She izent like sum 
 
 Uv hoom it is sed 
 
 Al the posies uv life they dew save 
 
 Tew put on the koffins 
 
 Of frends when they air ded 
 
 Never give em no posies 
 
 Till they air let down in the grave. 
 
 But Murlindy yew sea 
 Iz the lovinest wife 
 She has skatterd hur flours 
 In the path uv mi life. 
 
 And so worm is hur luve 
 In this jurny uv life 
 It burnt al the thorns up 
 Uv bikerin an uv strife 
 So eye dedikate these lines 
 Ontew Murlindy, mi wife. 
 
 Yew rit uv our gran childern 
 Jest az they wuz then 
 But them darlints yew speek uv 
 Air now wimin an men. 
 
 239 
 
Yew wuz axin hoo an axin how 
 Well it iz our Jons Jakup 
 Who staze with us now 
 Feeds the pig shets the sheap up 
 And drives up the kow. 
 
 We koodent keep Westly 
 He maid sich a fuss 
 And we koodent keep darlint 
 Feer shed make a muss 
 But Jons Jakups chorein 
 Wuz whot sootid us. 
 
 Yes twos hiz urrents un chorein 
 An such like yew sea 
 Whot desided us for Jakup 
 Both Murlindy an me. 
 
 While i am a ritin this leter 
 Eye mite az wel be a telin 
 How i kame tew be bettern 
 Most others air at spelin. 
 
 Well thay youst tew hav 
 
 Spelin skul down at Smith's korner 
 
 And i went tew that skul 
 
 With the Skots and the Zorners. 
 
 With Bil Jones an his sisters an brothers 
 
 Thats how i kame fer tew be 
 
 Sech an ekspurt at spelin 
 
 Wonst a wek al winter yew sea 
 
 Yes that why i'm a spelin 
 
 So mutch betern som uthers. 
 
 Now thers our gran sun Jim 
 Your leter speeks uv him 
 He is away off in Newbrasky eye hear 
 He is far frum our home 
 How youngsters dew rome 
 In Omyhaw not dowin mutch good tho 
 eye here. 
 
 An thare is Jozef, Jim's bruther 
 Brakein the hart uv his muther 
 He is gon to the grate sitty uv Shekaugo 
 It seems sech a pitty 
 Yungsters shood luv the sitty 
 Thay mout git drawd intew salunes thar 
 you kno. 
 
 Now the salune air a gin 
 Tew ketch yungsters in 
 An tew licens sech hell holes 
 Air our nashunel sin. 
 
 240 
 
Fer our statesmen make laws 
 Fer tew licens this kurse 
 Pertecktin the dram sellers kause 
 They kant dew nuthin worse. 
 
 Fer the fee thay air bribed 
 Soze tew ruin our yooth 
 Fer the revinue thats derived 
 An thats the hole trooth. 
 
 An we've got perfessors 
 Whots a helpin ther kause 
 Supportin the parties 
 Whots a makin sech laws. 
 
 Tis quite inkonsistent 
 They way whot thay due 
 Tis a shame and a pitty 
 And yit it air troo. 
 
 Well me and Murlindy 
 Went tew meatin tew day 
 And sech finicle folks 
 Az we seed i shood say. 
 
 Seech skiletons uv fowls 
 Wimin wore on their hats 
 Frum chikedees tew owls 
 Frum ostriches tew bats. 
 
 Them remains uv ded kritters 
 Them skiletuns yew sea 
 Makes a onholsum oder 
 Sez Murlindy tew me 
 Puttin hur lips tew mi ere 
 Soze folks koodint heer. 
 
 Eye fere eye shall faint, 
 She whisperd and sed 
 A holdin uv hur noze 
 And shakin uv hur hed. 
 
 And seech buterfly klose 
 Az the youngsters dew ware 
 But it maid em look pirty 
 Eye dew say an deklare 
 
 Murlindy wuz feelin proud 
 Uv the Sundy skule skoUars 
 Thay kumd in seech a kroud 
 Thair faces az brite az noo dolars. 
 
 And seech butyful chunes 
 As thay wuz a singin 
 It seems that still in mi eres 
 Ther voices air a ringin 
 
 241 
 (16) 
 
It is makin me think 
 Uv the blud washt throng 
 And eyem minglin mi voice 
 By faith in ther song 
 
 Eye shel drop this body an join em fore 
 long. 
 
 But the skripters air plane 
 
 And it stil duth remane 
 
 A trooth whot kant be denied 
 
 Fer every wun noze 
 
 That a warein fine kloze 
 
 Air a pomperin uv pride. 
 
 Tis jist whot our preechers 
 Shood be preechin agin 
 And be wornin our peeple 
 To be shunin this sin. 
 
 Like Peter and like Pall 
 And our old preechers all 
 Tha stood fer plane dress 
 As we all must konfess. 
 
 Then God own'd his word 
 And sent it with power 
 On the harts of his sants 
 His blessins did shower. 
 
 Now when meetin kommenst 
 Ther stood up fer to preech 
 
 Whot it seemed wos a nape 
 And sich stuf it did teech. 
 
 Now the name uv the monky 
 Whot woz teechin woz Mack 
 
 And this name it jest sooted 
 The old varment exzact. 
 
 It woz surprizin tew me 
 
 That the baboon kood tolk 
 Tho eye was hearin before 
 
 Tha kood stan up an wauk. 
 
 Well I sot in that meetin' 
 
 Az it happend tew day 
 And in substance i'll give 
 
 Whot the brute had tew say. 
 
 It sed it did not believe 
 
 Whot it yoost fer to teech 
 Sed it had but one surmun 
 
 It cared now tew preech. 
 
 242 
 
Tho he'd barls uv surmuns 
 On his hands tew day 
 
 And wuz a waitin' a chance 
 Fer tew give them away. 
 
 Well it droo a long breth 
 An then wated a spel 
 
 Sed we don't enny uv us now 
 Bleave much in a hell. 
 
 It sed it did not beleeve 
 Now in sin and the fall 
 
 Sed God never made man 
 In his image at all. 
 
 Sed that man never fel 
 
 He jest dropt there sum how 
 He wouldn't bother tew tell 
 
 How it did it jest now. 
 
 It sed tho man never fell 
 Yet it wood not be fare 
 
 Fer tew ax it tew tell 
 How he ever got there. 
 
 Sed the rite thing tew ax 
 Now sens man woz in sin 
 
 Wbz two teech him jest how 
 Fer tew git up again. 
 
 Sed the bibles a myth 
 The insultin ole houn 
 * And sed man hed kum up 
 From the broots away down. 
 
 From the lizzard an frog 
 Frum the lion and the fox 
 
 And the razor back hog, 
 From the mule, ass and ox. 
 
 Sed tew oil uv these beasts 
 
 Man's relations is ni 
 Hes now hi as an ape 
 
 And sed that's mighty hi. 
 
 Sed ther's perfection uv luv 
 Whot sum wuz a preechin 
 
 He didnt take eny stock 
 In sich kind uv teechin. 
 
 So he then coined a word 
 Whot sooted him better 
 
 Than the word uv the Lord 
 Both in sperit and in leter. 
 
 243 
 
Then it sed an Irishman 
 
 Woz as good az a ju 
 An Amerikan woz az good 
 
 Az Palistine wuz tew. 
 
 Then it took it a text 
 And kommented thereon 
 
 It wuz in the third chapter 
 Uv the Gospel uv Jon. 
 
 "Eksept a man be born again 
 God's kingdom he kant sea 
 
 Nikeydemus he axt Krist 
 How sich things tha kood be." 
 
 Then it perseeded tew tell 
 
 Uv a number uv waze 
 Whot folks yoost to kail 
 
 The channels uv grase. 
 
 Sed the channels of grase 
 Thay so often run dry 
 
 That tew trust in the means 
 Wuz tew trust in a lie. 
 
 Sed the kingdom uv God 
 We oil want tew git in 
 
 Sed we air likely tew fail 
 Axin pardon fer sin. 
 
 Sed in vain at tl\e altar 
 Ov prayrs we may kail 
 
 (Notwithstanding God offers 
 His salvation tew all). 
 
 The means God oppointed 
 
 Thay so often run dri 
 In their use we shal fale 
 
 So we better not tri. 
 
 He forgot fer tu tell uz 
 
 That in faith we shood seak 
 
 That God wood besto it 
 On the humbel an meek. 
 
 Then it sed when all means 
 God appointed shal fail 
 
 There's won way thats left us 
 Into hevin tew sail. 
 
 Olltho repentence and faith 
 And oil means thay air vain 
 
 Stil we ought to thank God 
 That one chance duth remane. 
 
 244 
 
Jest give sumbody sumthing 
 Now that's whot tew diew 
 
 And the kingdum uv God 
 It wil kum untew yew. 
 
 Then eye sez ontew mi self 
 
 Tew mi self then sez eye 
 That ape air a preechin 
 
 Onto us a big lie. 
 
 Kauz eye sez thare's sum fokes 
 Kaint got nuthin tew give 
 
 Then uv korse it air plane 
 Thet sich kritters kant live. 
 
 Taint got in that weigh 
 Tew my self then sez eye 
 
 Its whot a houseful uv gold 
 An uv silver kant bi. 
 
 Tho eye give oil mi goods 
 The hungry fer tew feed 
 
 An tew clothe up the naked 
 In the time uv his kneed. 
 
 Without Krist an his luv 
 
 Im a tinkerin simble 
 An kaint got a nuff grase 
 
 Tew fill a smoll thimbel. 
 
 Such have left the fountain 
 
 Of life so we air told 
 And hude them out sisterns 
 
 Whot no woter kin hold. 
 
 These air wells without woter 
 And air clouds without rane 
 
 Rageing waves in the see 
 Foaming out thair shame. 
 
 Tho' wonst purged frum sin 
 Have there savyer forgot 
 
 Fer luker teechin things 
 
 Whot thay reely ought not. 
 
 Sich air wanderin stars 
 
 Hoove forsaken their saveyer 
 
 An tew hoom is reserved 
 Black darkness forever. 
 
 It were beter fer them 
 
 If they never had knone 
 The fountain uv klenzein 
 
 Since they've wondered ther from. 
 
 245 
 
Hoo hav left the rite way 
 Whot the good book teeches 
 
 And gone after balum 
 Hoo lusted fur riches. 
 
 We'd much beter foller 
 The orthodox devinity 
 
 Than tew foller that ape's 
 Devilish darwinity. 
 
 But it has hapend tew them 
 As the proverbs inspire 
 
 Like the dog tew his vomit 
 Like the sow tew hur mire. 
 
 When yew teech that the Bible 
 
 Is a li an not troo 
 Then yew drive fokes away 
 
 Yes, that's jest whot yew dew. 
 
 Jest set it down fer a fackt 
 Every time uv the day 
 
 When yew left Bible doktrin 
 Yew heve gon fur astray. 
 
 An seech riters az thay have 
 
 Its a beetin uv oil 
 Fer thay wont let Shakespeer 
 
 Be Shakespeer at all. 
 
 Jest sum lubber of a lord 
 Thay air a maken him be 
 
 Yes its a fackt pon mi word 
 Beets oil ever eye C. 
 
 Sum air fytin ekspanshun 
 Az shoor az yew air born 
 
 An its a last spring's chickin 
 And kin swoller hole korn. 
 
 Tha air tryin their best 
 
 Fer quite a long spell 
 Tew git this big rooster 
 
 Bak agin in his shel. 
 
 Sum air fytin fur it 
 And sum fytin again it 
 
 But eye and Murlindy 
 Arnt nun uv us in it. 
 
 But whot we air fytin 
 It air plane tew be seen 
 
 It air the licenst saloon 
 And the army kanteen. 
 
 246 
 
We're opposed tew the rong 
 
 But we stand fer the rite 
 Now uv korse yew will kno 
 
 Whot its fur ut we fyte. 
 
 If yew have eny cents 
 
 At awl in yer hed 
 Tiz tew fyte the saloon 
 
 Ontil it air ded. 
 
 We fyte sin in lo plases 
 
 And in plases whot air hi 
 We will fyte it whil we live 
 
 Then we'll kick it when we di. 
 
 Perhaps yew have hurd 
 
 And mebby yew have red 
 How kongris passt lawz 
 
 Tew kill kanteens oil ded. 
 
 Well that law woz tew strong 
 
 Fur the president's sass 
 Hoo saddled it on Grigs 
 
 Az you'd saddle an ass. 
 
 Twas the votes uv hudlums 
 
 Whot he had in his sight 
 Fur before he woz jumpin 
 
 He must look whare tew lite. 
 
 Tew git this kanteen law 
 
 Kleen out uv his way 
 It don't mene whot it sez 
 
 Giner'l Grigs yew must say.* 
 
 Sum air teechin kristshun syance 
 At the trooth tha make defians 
 Tha play on foks a trick 
 Tell sik foks thay'r not sik 
 Yes thay tell sik foks a li 
 Tha say tha kannot di 
 And proklam it fur and ni. 
 
 *Those unscrupulous officers who were lin- 
 ing their pockets with silver through the army 
 canteen, brought the whole weight of their in- 
 fluence to bear on the otherwise good presi- 
 dent; and General Griggs' decision was an out- 
 rage on the parents of the Boys in Blue; an 
 outrage on the plain letter of the law; as also 
 on grammar, criticism, decency and common 
 sense; and deserves the condemnation of all 
 right thinking people. 
 
 247 
 
Tis plane that tha air lyin 
 Koz foks keep rite on dyin 
 Yew kin sea in jest a minit 
 Thare aint no syans in it 
 Nor nuthin christshun nuther 
 Neather won nor yit the tuther 
 Tha jest deseave thare bruther. 
 
 Say nuthins good or evil 
 No God no man nor devil 
 No siknes pane nor deth 
 Say foks jest stop there breth 
 Say all's imaginashun 
 About this hole kreashun 
 Say foks jest take a noshun. 
 
 They'll fain that tha air sik 
 Go to bed and thare tha'll stik 
 That's whot them phules air preechin 
 Tis horid whot they'r teechin 
 Sich offul lize thay tell 
 Say every bodys well 
 No siknis deth or hell. 
 
 Tell oil the lize thay kan 
 Say Krist woz jest a man 
 Say none in him shood trust 
 Say his kingdum thay wil bust 
 Now shood thay kum tew yew 
 Eye'U tell yew whot tew doo 
 Tell them thair lize aint true. 
 
 I'm a wornin yew before 
 
 Tha kum ontew your dore 
 
 Soze yew'll no jest whot tew say 
 
 Tew drive sich fokes away 
 
 Say "yew air teechin whot is rong" 
 
 Then sing a kristshun song 
 
 And eye gess tha'll jog a long. 
 
 Old Jony Bull air a hookin 
 
 At the Boers we air told 
 Wants tew graze in thare pasters 
 
 Uv dymuns and gold. 
 
 It peers like its rong 
 
 The way he air a dooin 
 Tho his kood it air strong 
 
 Yit he keeps on a chooin. 
 
 This expresses the general sentiment of our 
 people at the time of the Boer war, though 
 there were a few autocrats who sided with 
 England. 
 
 248 
 
He air hatin republiks 
 
 Tiz a plane thing too C 
 And the rooler uv nashuns 
 
 He air a strivein too B. 
 
 Ther's sum uther reasons 
 
 Jon Bull is a sayin 
 Sez the Boers air fanaticks 
 
 Reedin bibles and prayin. 
 
 Sez its mishunery work 
 
 He iz a dooin thats all 
 A convertin them bergers 
 
 With powder and ball. 
 
 He air throin among em 
 
 Sum shot an sum shel 
 Tew keep them fanaticks 
 
 Frum goin tew hell. 
 
 Tiz mighty konvinsin 
 
 Hiz methud uv preechin 
 He shoots of their beds 
 
 Soze tew git in his teechin. 
 
 He is a goin this way 
 
 Fer tew make em repent 
 When he's kill'd em their silence 
 
 He will take fer consent. 
 
 He air acktin offal stingy 
 Towards them starvin folks uv Injy 
 Hoo air under his dominion 
 Better feed them foks bi far 
 Than tew karry on that war 
 At least thats mi opinyun. 
 
 A few thousand pounds fer savin uv life 
 
 But millyans uv gold fer war an fer strife 
 
 An his a kristshun nashun 
 
 A sinin ginst man an ginst God 
 
 Bi shedin uv kristshun blud 
 
 It beets all creation! 
 
 Well our nabers yew speek uv 
 Air az kind az thay ever kin bee 
 An thay dew oil we ax em tew dew 
 But we air lonesum uv kors yew kin sea 
 An we offen air speekin uv yew 
 We ax yew tew kum on a vizit. 
 
 Yes dew kum an sea us wonst more 
 Fer we haven't much longer tew stay 
 An air a longin fer that butiful shore 
 Whare the sun shines nite an day 
 And we'll part with frens there no more. 
 
 249 
 
An we dew hope tew meat yew oil thare 
 In that world whots so brite an so fare 
 We must strive every day tho 
 And must wotch onto prayr 
 And be faithful tew each juty 
 If we hope tew ever git there. 
 
 Well yew axt fer sum eytums uv nooz 
 And uv korse your old frend wont refus 
 But wuz almost a fergitin tew say 
 Foks air a dyin an a passin away. 
 
 Mr. Wont Work is kleen ded 
 Yew kno Wont Work wuz wun 
 Whot nobody skase ever trusted 
 Well he got sort uv hard run 
 An kollapst it is sed 
 Got ful uv emtyness an busted. 
 
 An Mister Drone in the hive 
 
 Iz more ded than alive 
 
 And its a sperityul wornin 
 
 Both tew me an tew yew 
 
 Tew work an pray nite an mornin 
 
 Feer lest we'd kollapse tew. 
 
 An here's whot happen'd 
 Las nite er late yisterday 
 Whot strange things dew hapen 
 While folks air a napin 
 
 Mister Nosol and Miss Burnup 
 
 Got married foks say 
 
 An air a goin tew nowhither 
 
 Tew spend ther huny mune there 
 
 An eye spoze tew take in the phare 
 
 Yew will remember Gehazi went there. 
 
 2 Kings 5:25. 
 Eye wuz a yewzin a figer uv speech 
 About them sperityul hoo dooz 
 An eye rit az tho it woz nooz 
 Intendin a sperityul lesen tew teech. 
 
 Well i'm glad fer tew say 
 That ole gray iz a giten sum better 
 Soz Jakup ken ride him nex day 
 Tew the offiis an karry mi leter. 
 
 Yer leter tells whot God has dun 
 And sez his kaus air muvein on 
 Our soles rejois our harts air glad 
 Fer oil that your good letter sed 
 
 250 
 
We jine yew in yer songs uv praze 
 And prayrs fer God's konvertin grase. 
 May Jesus' name be sung an preecht 
 Til oil the ends uv urth air reecht 
 
 We are longin fer that blessid day 
 When revivles shal muve on this way. 
 Yew kno whot times we youst tew have 
 When God kame neer the lost tew save 
 
 Now let us pray he'll kum agin 
 Soze siners shal be saved frum sin 
 Soze the purchased uv the saveyers blud 
 May reskude be an brot tew God. 
 
 Well yew axt uv our meetins an preecher 
 An i'll answer yew that in short meater 
 The preecher we had fer last yeer 
 Maid his subject konspikyus an kleer 
 
 His doktrin he fetcht from abuv 
 An spok in the sperit uv luv 
 Our douts an our feers druv away 
 An tot us tew wotch an tew pray. 
 
 He tot us temtashun tew shun 
 And sea that our dootys wair dun 
 Tew konstantly wolk in the lite 
 An work in the sperits grate mite 
 
 He tot us the skripters tew reed 
 Tew thair doktrins an teechins take heed. 
 He tot this trooth an maid it plane 
 The siner must be born again 
 
 Els heven he kannot sea yew kno 
 He showd the nater uv the kase 
 Sed skripter tot this trooth ollways 
 Sed Krist told Nikydemus so. 
 
 He haz won theme whar ear he goze 
 An nuthin els he ever noze 
 Hez waukin klose tew Jesus side 
 An taukin uv the Krusyfide 
 
 He's wornin siners nite an day 
 Tew turn an wauk the narer way 
 He's wauk't this road fer years an years 
 Preacht krist in luv with flowing teers. 
 
 Won motive his akshuns kontroles 
 
 He is olwaze a wotchin fer soles 
 
 No time has he fer triffin here 
 
 Which makes sum peeple think him queer. 
 
 251 
 
Its a skore uv yeers and more 
 Sens he preecht fer us before 
 An sich meatins we yoost to hev then 
 Sich singin an prayin an sayin amen 
 
 Sich kaulin fer mourners an seekers 
 
 Fer he woz won uv the ablest uv speakers 
 
 An yew kno Abe Spinks woz a powrful 
 
 egzorter 
 An he let foks pray an speak az he orter. 
 
 Yew remember when we yooster sing 
 Till we'd make that ole log skule hous 
 
 ring 
 Uv korse yew remember Unckle Rube Skot 
 Fer in the amen korner he alwaze sot 
 With Barkus an Zorney Joab good bruth- 
 
 ers 
 With voises like lions a prayin fer uthers 
 Not givin the seakers a minit uv rest 
 A prayin bi turns til each morner woz 
 
 blest 
 With Ant Ruby Stork an Ruth Vanoles 
 Laberin with seekers instructin uv soles. 
 
 Our fothers an mothers in Izril ware thay 
 But sich zelus workers air a passin away 
 Thars scarce anuf left uv sich workers alive 
 Tew suport in good shape the drones in 
 
 the hive 
 No restraint on us then nor yit on the plase 
 We injoid our freedum an sang uv free 
 
 grase. 
 Twoz a haloed spot that skule hous tew me 
 Fer twoz thair frum mi sins mi sole woz 
 
 sot free. 
 
 Twant the logs nor florin nor chinkin yew 
 
 see 
 Nor roofin whot maid it so sakrid tew me 
 Twoz the prezence uv Jesus 
 Which thare eye did find 
 His luv in my sole 
 His pease in mi mind. 
 
 There eye jind with the rest 
 
 In prazin his name 
 And in hevin eye hope 
 
 I'll be dooin the same. 
 
 Elder Spinks woz a preechin 
 
 Uv the grate judgment day 
 And a kollin fer mourners 
 
 Sayin tew sinners hasten away. 
 
 252 
 
Spoke in teers uv the judgment 
 
 Uv heven and uv hell 
 But on God's grate kompashun 
 
 He mostly did dwell. 
 
 Spoke soothin tew oil 
 
 Whooz soles ware distresst 
 And prade for us seekers 
 
 Till we woz oil blesst. 
 
 He woz a pintin tu Jesus 
 
 The nite eye woz blesst 
 Tew the mourners bench 
 
 Eye kame along with the rest. 
 
 My sins woz a mountin 
 
 It seamed tew me so 
 That mi gilt before God 
 
 It wood sink me tew woe. 
 
 Az gilty and helpless 
 
 Eye fell at his feet 
 Thare he shode his kompashun 
 
 And saved me kompleat. 
 
 While money with some 
 Air the prinsiple thing 
 And preechin uv smooth things 
 Tew draw rich peeple in 
 
 He woz a singing each day 
 Az he trudged on his way 
 No foot of land do i pozess 
 No kotage in this wilderness. 
 
 And its plane as eye rite 
 This letter tew nite 
 Hoo that angles fer big fish 
 Passin leetle ones by 
 Will fetch up at length 
 With a vary small fry. 
 
 Oh the hims and chunes we youst to sing 
 When furst we lurnt to praze our king 
 An tew stur up yer pure minds 
 Eye must rite ye>v sum lines 
 Jist a few fer a sample 
 Eye supose will be ample. 
 
 How teajus an tastless the ours 
 When Jesus no longer eye see. 
 
 Am eye a souljer of the kross 
 A follerer of the lamb? 
 
 Kum thou fount of every blessin 
 Chune my hart tew sing thy praze. 
 
 253 
 
When eye kin reed my title kleer 
 
 Tew manshuns in the skize 
 I'll bid a-jew to every feer 
 
 An wipe my weepin eyes. 
 Kum ye siners pore an kneedy 
 Week an woundid sik an soar. 
 Kum humble siner in hooz brest 
 A thousin thots revolve. 
 Frum oil whot dwel belo the skize 
 Let the kreaters praze arize. 
 Oh tell me no more uv this worlds vane 
 
 store 
 The time fer sich trifles with me now is 
 
 oar. 
 And a skore more uv uthers 
 Deer sisters and bruthers 
 You'll remember we youst to sing 
 Then our souls mounted hire 
 In a charryot of fire 
 Az we woz a prazin our king 
 
 Seech as 
 Kum let us anoo our jurny persoo 
 
 And 
 I'll praze mi maker while i've breth 
 Eye hope to praze him after deth. 
 But sich singin as tha hav nowadays 
 Tiz fur frum the spirt uv worship an praze. 
 Sum dandys an flerts they'l go and hire 
 Put em together an kail em a quire 
 Then thay'l perceed tew yell an holler 
 Jsit like a noo peanner skoller 
 No chune eny more'n a pig a squeelin 
 No undestanding ner sperit ner feelin 
 No worship frum beginin tew endin 
 Tiz a mockin uv God an only pertendin. 
 Them murders uv muwsik 
 Whot tha kail a quire 
 Shood be maid tew dew penance 
 A while in hell fire 
 Than thay'd kum out 
 Tew sing uv God's praze 
 An tew tell uv his luve 
 And his wonderful waze 
 Not tew giggle an sho thare fine kloze 
 An not tew sing words whot nobody noze. 
 Not tew be worshipt 
 
 But tew worship the Lord 
 An tew sing in the sperit 
 
 Az we're tought in his word. 
 Tho worldlings in the congregation may 
 
 sing 
 Yet a godless quire is a damnable thing. 
 
 254 
 
Tis a horible krime 
 
 And a henyous sin 
 
 Tew be murderin the mewzik 
 
 Whot the angels jine in 
 
 We shood sing in the spirit 
 With good understandin 
 Az the skripters dew teech 
 An az God is kommandin. 
 
 But seech noofangled wayz 
 Az tha kontrive nowadaze 
 Leegs and juneyer leegs and seech 
 Hoo noze which frum tuther or tuther 
 frum which. 
 
 But we'll kail tew our minds 
 The daze whots gon by 
 When our old preecher met 
 With yew and with eye. 
 
 Oh he wuz a holy gost preecher 
 An his life wuz a every day teecher 
 Trew religin he tought wuz pure luve 
 Faith an hope tew karry our spirits above 
 Sed saints shood kno ther sins fergiven 
 An reed ther tytle kleer tew hevin 
 Whare we awl do hope tew meat at last 
 When life an awl its toils air past. 
 If we foller his example an teechin we no 
 We shal sea him again whar the blod washt 
 
 go 
 On kanans fare an blewmin shore 
 Whare we awl shal meat 
 At our Lord Jesus' feet 
 Never tew die again no more. 
 
 Well that good man's work is dun 
 His battle fought, his rase is run. 
 
 He was wise in the skripters 
 
 Tho not a grate skoller 
 But he rests frum his labers 
 
 And his works shal foller. 
 He is dwellin now with Christ 
 
 Which we kno is far better 
 Is at home with his Lord 
 
 While I'm a ritin this letter. 
 Is free frum al sorrow 
 
 Al pane an al kare 
 Tew bask in the sunshin 
 
 Uv Jesus luve thare. 
 With Abryham Eyesik 
 
 An Jakup uv old 
 With profits an marters 
 
 Waukin streets uv pure gold. 
 
 255 
 
Or with Elijy and Enick 
 In charryots uv fire 
 He is rangein that sitty 
 Tew which we aspire 
 Farewell holy gost preecher 
 We shal meet yew up hire. 
 
 Konfrens has sent anuther man 
 An we must do the best we can 
 We feer he may not do much good 
 He seams tew be a stuk up dood 
 He's warin offal stilish klose 
 An jirks the hare beneeth his noze 
 His ize air lofty an no teers 
 Of luve in vois or looks appeers 
 He reeds an essy stid uv preechin 
 An givs us milk an wotter teechin. 
 
 Tiz quite plane ontew me 
 
 An tiz plane ontew yew 
 The ods ut thare iz 
 
 Twixt the old an the noo. 
 
 While the old wuz kollektin 
 
 Uv ams fer the poor 
 The noo one goze off 
 
 On a leckterin toor. 
 
 Tew git lots uv mony 
 
 He leckters a while 
 Tew trig up his dotters 
 
 An his wife in fine stile. 
 
 The old preecher sot 
 
 By the sick man's bed 
 An prayd fer the orfans 
 
 When ther father wuz ded. 
 
 But it realy is troo 
 In his study the noo 
 
 Is konsealed from each i 
 Hid in his books as shor az yer born 
 Like a shoat in the ry 
 
 Like a steer hid in the korn. 
 
 Pokes rap at his dore 
 
 Hoo air burdened with sin 
 But he's a studdyin his surmen 
 
 So tha kannot kum in. 
 
 He's no time to vizit 
 
 With yew in yer hum 
 Yit on Sundy in chirch 
 
 He is glad yew hav kum. 
 
 256 
 
When meeting iz out 
 
 An yew start fer the dore 
 He skampers his best 
 
 An gits thare before. 
 
 No mercy has he 
 
 Fer the poor gronin siner; 
 Hoos sole is a yurnin 
 
 Fer the lounge an fer dinner. 
 
 With simperin looks 
 
 He seases yer hand 
 An fergitin his books 
 
 He kontinues tew stand. 
 
 He squeases an touks 
 
 Till the siner is sad 
 But when he lets go 
 
 He's rejoisingly glad. 
 
 Yit meny brite thots 
 
 Hez that preecher yew see 
 Hez az smart az a whip 
 
 An quite chipper iz he. 
 
 If smartnis woz oil 
 
 That the skripters requires 
 Then God ud be pleased 
 
 An we'd hav our dezires. 
 
 Tho its late now yew sea 
 Yit it volves upon me 
 
 Tew rite more uv our mxetin an preecher 
 Well he kums with his craw 
 Chuck full uv the law 
 
 He aint a good doktrinal teecher. 
 
 Yet sometimes he duz well 
 Tauks uv hevin an hell 
 
 Sez fer sin Crist opened a fountain 
 Sez it air wiked tew sin 
 Then he'll tell whare he's bin 
 
 In Yewrup an klum a hy mountain. 
 
 How threw kollige he passt 
 An gradated at last 
 
 Tells us awl tew git a good lurnin 
 Tauks a while az he shood 
 Sez religin is good 
 
 But nuthin's kompared tew good lurnin. 
 
 Tauks much uv hy skules 
 Makes us awl out az fules 
 
 Whot haint a hy skule eddykashun 
 Tells sumthin thats funny 
 Then axes fer mony 
 
 Tew trig his self up fer his stashun. 
 
 257 
 (17) 
 
Then he tauks sum uv prayr 
 Tells how folish it air 
 
 Tew be led by the spirit in prayin 
 Tells us all whot to say 
 Cuts us short when we pray 
 
 Now be breef (an it goze fer a sayin). 
 
 Now be breef just a word 
 Pleeze stan up fer yer Lord 
 
 Now hes got the klassrr.eatin agoin 
 I will chaw yew a kood 
 Tiz a smoll one but good 
 
 Now suck it but dont ye git tew chawin. 
 
 Dont be wagin yer jaws 
 Tho yew feel that the kaus 
 
 Is so good that yer busoms air a swellin 
 Tho yew gratly rejoice 
 Dont yew lift up yer voice 
 
 Quench the spirit dont give way tew yer 
 feelin. 
 
 Yew must be very quiet 
 Remember I say it 
 
 No excitement allowed in this meatin 
 Don't be moved by the gost 
 Uv the furst penty kost 
 
 Tiz myself whots a runin this meatin. 
 
 So he sets az a lord 
 Blames or prazes each word 
 
 Takes up the time uv the sisters an 
 bruthers 
 Jist a word jist a word 
 When yew speek fer yer Lord 
 
 Be very breef now fathers an muthers. 
 
 Now kums the weak uv prayr 
 Yes, its kum i'll deklare 
 
 But eye spos'd we shood olways be 
 prayin 
 Still we've had a long snooz 
 And must rouse up eye spose 
 
 An prepare fer sum extras hez sayin. 
 
 Well the week of prayrs past 
 An the vivles kum at last 
 
 But folks don't ketch on tew the vivle 
 We don't know whot tew dew 
 We've a vanglist in view 
 
 But our preecher takes him fer a rivile. 
 
 258 
 
Sez the meatin's oil rite 
 An the evnins air brite 
 
 Go tew the hyways and go tev/ the heges 
 Foks air livin in sin 
 Go an gather them in 
 
 Go thro the town an go roun its edges. 
 
 Our foks feel the kneed 
 Uv a vivle indeed 
 
 Pray urnest an give worm exertashun 
 Then the preecher duth rize 
 Lookin foolishly wize 
 
 Jist like he woz lord uv kreashun. 
 
 Sez yew must not appear 
 Tew mean ennything here 
 
 Keep kool an the ice'll be meltin 
 An hooever gits warmed 
 Will at once git informed 
 
 Az fanatiks tha'll git a good peltin. 
 
 Whot tho Jesus our Lord 
 Tot this trooth in his word 
 
 Sayin oil yew my desiples air bruthers 
 An so teeches Saint Paul 
 Thare is work for us oil 
 
 Egsort each soz tev/ eddyfy uthers. 
 
 But our preechers retortin 
 He wil have no exzortin 
 
 Yes he seams tew dispise profysying 
 Fer he will not allow 
 This skripterul rule now 
 
 Tho for it the foks air a kryin. 
 
 Sum air temted tew say 
 Git off frum that hay 
 
 Sum ax him tew exchange with a 
 stranger 
 But without an exkuse 
 He iz firm tew refuse 
 
 He acts like a dog in a manger 
 
 Fer his akshuns dew say 
 It shal run in my way 
 
 Treats each one az tho hez a baby 
 Like a wet nurse is he 
 With hur spoonful uv tea 
 
 Maid uv katnip or pepermint maby. 
 
 No difference he sez 
 Twixt an infant uv daze 
 
 And a person uv experience in dooin 
 Jist a word he will say 
 Tew the beds which air gray 
 
 Tho thays skillful an zelus an knowin. 
 
 259 
 
In hisself hes a host 
 
 Hed have squelched pentakost 
 
 Wonce we thot we had got it a goin 
 In his absens wed prade 
 Sung, exjorted an sed 
 
 The pentykost winds air a bloin. 
 
 Yes we thot we had got it 
 
 It woz enterin the town 
 But he straddled its back 
 
 An rid it kleen down 
 
 Tho we peted an coaxt it 
 
 An axt it tew stay 
 Like Balum he smote it 
 
 An drew it away. 
 
 Tho the table woz spred 
 As the savior haz sed 
 
 That preecher gits rite up on the table 
 Disregarding our wishes 
 He steps in our dishes 
 
 And in evry ons mess will he dabble. 
 
 Hes perzistin tew mum 
 Fer each person a krum 
 
 Thus the spirit is greeved and quencht 
 And our soles now air pained 
 Fer awl that we had gained 
 
 Frum our grasp by that preecher wuz 
 wrencht. 
 
 He took Jesus'es krown 
 An trampled it down 
 
 Throde his self rite on top uv the meetin 
 Yes he steps with his feet 
 Whare we drink and we eat 
 
 Yes he fouls whot we'r a drinkin an 
 eatin. 
 
 If he'd uv bin Peter 
 
 He'd a stopt in short meter 
 
 The rejoicin whot brot foks together 
 That shoutin an prazin 
 So disturbin an brazin 
 
 Awl that nois an konfushun an bother. 
 
 Now he gits up an stans 
 Sayin pleeze raze yer bans 
 
 Tis the way tew the kindum uv hevin 
 Tis a smoll thing to dew 
 An eye ax it uv yew 
 
 Raze yer hans an yew air fergiven. 
 
 260 
 
Instid uv his sayin 
 
 Bow yer neez and be prayin 
 
 Repent an beleeve az he orter 
 Like a dunts thair he stans 
 Sayin raze up yer hans 
 
 He aint az good az a onlarned egzorter. 
 
 Now foks loiter an Hnger 
 
 All's at a stand 
 
 Length a girl with swelld finger 
 
 Raises her hand 
 
 Tiz a vivle sez he an he cuts up a kaper 
 
 Brutherin be uv good cheer 
 
 Fer the vivle is here 
 
 Yew shal see it next weak in the paper. 
 
 Thair air teers in her i 
 Still she don't pra ner kri 
 
 Thar's a offal big bile on her hand 
 She is chuck full uv feelin 
 Her bile is a bealin 
 
 Bows her hed she aint able tew stand. 
 
 Teers fall now like rane 
 So extream is her pane 
 
 Preecher's more jubylent than ever 
 Sez she'z got a blessin 
 Tho her bile's more distressin 
 Ryth's with pane whispers "never eye 
 never. 
 
 Poor girl olmost raved 
 Preecher sez she is saved 
 
 She's astonished at hearin his sayin 
 She woz olmost a dyin 
 But woz not a kryin 
 
 Fer misry or seekin salvation or prayin. 
 
 She sez preechers wont li 
 So i'm reddy tew die 
 
 And its kumd thout enny searyus fealin 
 Yes its kumd thout sekin 
 Thout prayin or speakin 
 
 Thout renounsin mi woltzin or realin. 
 
 Doxology must be sung, 
 Now wag every tung, 
 
 Praze God frum which oil blessins dew 
 flow. 
 Girls hans full uv pane. 
 She kant jine in the strane, 
 
 But he hoopt her up now, eye tell yew so. 
 
 261 
 
Whot a vivle, foks sed, 
 Az the papers tha red, 
 
 We must giv that grate vivlist a kail; 
 Folks in church hadn't felt, 
 No, ner tasted ner smelt 
 
 (Sept the preecher), skase enny vivle 
 at all. 
 
 Foks thot us in klover, 
 But the vivle blode over, 
 
 'Twant enny vivle at all, yew kin sea; 
 Girl's a-dansin an flirtin, 
 Her fingers quit hurtin, 
 
 Preecher phuled hur, but didn't phule me. 
 
 Well, it's late, an eye spoze 
 Eye must kum tew a klose. 
 
 An member i'm a-prayin fer yew; 
 Eye pra mor'n eye rite, 
 Pra fer yew da an nite, 
 
 An eye ax yev/ tew pra fer me, tew. 
 
 Uv korse you'll kno beter 
 'Ntu sho foks mi leter; 
 
 It mout git tew the elder uv the distrik; 
 And he mout send us a wus, 
 Then we'd be in a muss, 
 
 Tu konseal it frum him, be vary strict. 
 
 If he heers the complaints 
 Uv us folt findin saints 
 
 Aginst our hi lurned noo preecher. 
 Then he'll be out uv yewmer 
 When he heers the roomer, 
 
 Fer hi lurnin with him makes the 
 preecher. 
 
 And i'm a standin in phere 
 We'd git nun fer nex yeer. 
 
 Which ud still be inhansing our curse; 
 Fer if no preecher kame 
 Fer tew take oil the blame, 
 
 It wood be tu onnatrul fer urs. 
 
 Well, goodbi, fer this time. 
 Eye hev rit this in rime, 
 
 Koz i spozed ut yewed like it the best; 
 Well, its late an eye'm dun, 
 Now be shoor an rite sune, 
 
 Eye must klose up an go tew mi rest. 
 
 Mi ritins quite poor, 
 Yew'l exkuse, i'm shoor. 
 
 Eye ain't much with a pen, i must own; 
 But from whot foks air tellin 
 Eye am O. K. at spellin, 
 
 Let mi good spelin fer pore ritin atone. 
 
 262 
 
Eye give yew mi address, 
 And send yew a "God bless," 
 
 Be shoor an rite plane tu her an tu me; 
 Fer if yer ferget it, 
 Eye wont never git it. 
 
 An i'll be a-waitin yer leter tew sea. 
 
 Now, if this shood miskary. 
 Or if it shood tarry. 
 
 Yew will plese to at once let me kno; 
 An i'll rite yew a nuther, 
 Deer sister an bruther. 
 
 And i'll kum an will fech it to you. 
 
 This in a hurry, yew sea, 
 Frum your luvin phrend, me. 
 
 WHEN THE CIRCUIT RIDER CAME. 
 
 In the backwoods of Ohio, 
 In the days of long ago; 
 
 When religion was religion, 
 Not a dressy fashion show; 
 
 When the spirit of the Master 
 Fell in flames of living fire; 
 
 When the people did the singing, 
 Not a trained artistic choir. 
 
 There was scarcely seen a ripple 
 In life's gently flowing tide; 
 
 No events to draw the people 
 From their daily toil aside. 
 
 Naught to set the pious spirit 
 Of the pioneers aflame. 
 
 Save upon the rare occasion 
 When the circuit rider came. 
 
 He usually was mounted 
 On the sorriest of nags. 
 
 All his outfit for the journey 
 Packed in leather saddlebags. 
 
 And he traveled with the Bible 
 Or the hymn book in his hand, 
 
 Reading sacred words or singing 
 Of the happy promised land. 
 
 263 
 
How the toiling wives would glory 
 In the dinners they would spread, 
 
 And many a hapless chicken 
 Or a turkey lost its head. 
 
 And the gleamy ax was wielded, 
 
 In the sturdy hand of dame; 
 For it was not very often 
 
 That the circuit rider came. 
 
 And all the whole settlement 
 Would be ringing with the news. 
 
 That there would be meeting Sunday, 
 And we'd "taller" up our shoes. 
 
 And we'd brush our homespun dress suits, 
 
 Pride of ev'ry country youth; 
 And we'd grease our hair with marrow 
 
 Till it shone like golden truth. 
 
 And the frocks of liney woolsey 
 Would be donned by all the girls; 
 
 Who heated up old fire pokers 
 And made their corkscrew curls. 
 
 They were scarcely queens of fashion. 
 But were lovely, just the same; 
 
 And always looked their sweetest 
 When the circuit rider came. 
 
 We have sat in great cathedrals, 
 Triumphs of the builders' skill; 
 
 And in great palatial churches, 
 Neath the organ's mellow thrill; 
 
 But they never roused within .us. 
 
 Such a reverential fiame 
 As would burn in that log schoolhouse 
 
 When the circuit rider came. 
 
 -By JAMES B. ADAMS, in St. Louis Chris- 
 tian Advocate. 
 
 264 
 
HOW WE ARE GETTING ALONG. 
 
 Perhaps your readers won't refuse 
 
 Some little items of the news. 
 
 I trust they'll think it right and fair 
 
 To make our notes with theirs compare. 
 
 At least, it won't be very wrong 
 
 To tell them how we get along. 
 
 We send them gratis this bit of news, 
 
 Som.e people will read it, tho' some m.ay refuse. 
 
 "Make your paths straight," the Bible doth say, 
 "Lest that which is lame be turned out of the 
 
 way." 
 But, like boys, now on stilts and then on the 
 
 ground. 
 Ourselves in such postures we ofien have 
 
 found; 
 Oft find ourselves lame and not very strong, 
 And still we go limping and hobbling along. 
 
 Some of us are idle, our duties we shirk, 
 While some, with both hands and jaws, are at 
 
 work. 
 Then again, we grow weary and tired of our 
 
 labors. 
 And our tongues get at work on the faults of 
 
 our neighbors. 
 Sometimes we go wrong, sometim.es we go 
 
 right ; 
 Sometimes in the dark, sometimes in the light; 
 Sometim.es we go up, sometimes we go down, 
 Much like the roads which we travel to town. 
 Sometimes we are sad, som.etimes we've a song; 
 Now, that is the way v/e are shacking along. 
 
 We each have our fault, it is easy to see, 
 
 And we trust you are doing much better than 
 
 we. 
 To do better than we, we confess there is 
 
 room; 
 We are scrubbing away with the same old 
 
 broom. 
 Every day we resolve to amend our lives. 
 And, of course, we vv^ould — but then — such 
 
 wives! 
 When we married, those angels were beautiful 
 
 things, 
 But soon we discovered they were minus their 
 
 wings; 
 
 265 
 
Then we said, "We are doing the best that we 
 
 can! 
 And if anything's wrong, you must blame 
 
 Mary Ann!" 
 Then she snatches us bald, blames us with the 
 
 wrong; 
 So, now, you can see how we're shacking 
 
 along. 
 
 And some of our folks are after the dollar, 
 Some chasing humbugs whom, like Dowie, 
 
 they foller. 
 You may ask why they do so; that is easy to 
 
 tell,— 
 The fool-killer hasn't been round for a spell. 
 
 You may say when he comes he will surely 
 
 get me. 
 But I'll be on my guard and be watching to see; 
 I'll be looking demure and keeping quite cool, 
 So the killer won't notice that I am a fool; 
 I'll point to some fools, and tell him to see. 
 So the fool-killer won't be a-staring at me, — 
 Try to save my own life. You think it is 
 
 wrong — 
 But that is the way we are ambling along. 
 
 While neglecting our privilege and duty in 
 
 prayer, 
 The faults of our neighbor are our principal 
 
 care. 
 With the beam in our own eye, we've no time 
 
 to bother; 
 We are after the mote in the eye of our 
 
 brother. 
 In this, we confess, we are most of us wrong. 
 But still 'tis the way we are bobbing along. 
 
 Some are cussing, some discussing our preach- 
 er, — 
 
 But he keeps proclaiming God's love to His 
 creature. 
 
 We hinder the work 'mong our friends and 
 neighbors. 
 
 So our preacher reaps but little fruit of his 
 labors. 
 
 Some stray from the church and find fault with 
 the rest; 
 
 Neglect a plain duty, and remain thus un- 
 blessed. 
 
 And some of us, like Uzzah, much pains are 
 taking : 
 
 Put our hand on the cart to keep it from shak- 
 ing. 
 
 266 
 
In this we are doing quite wrong, and 'tis said 
 That some of our people, like Uzzah, are dead. 
 It is natural, it seems, for some to do wrong. 
 But that is the way we are limping along. 
 
 Perhaps you would like the writer to say 
 What words some people should use, when 
 
 they pray. 
 Well, from what we have seen and from what 
 
 we have heard. 
 About this way, I think, their prayers they 
 
 should word: 
 "We are coming again with lip service, oh. 
 
 Lord! 
 Our lips talk to thee, but our hearts not a word. 
 
 With hearts far away, with our lips we draw 
 
 near. 
 But we're making a speech for the people to 
 
 hear. 
 To judge people harshly, of course, it is wrong. 
 But that is the way we are shacking along." 
 
 You can't always tell, when mixed with the 
 
 crowd, 
 (For some folks are humble, while others are 
 
 proud) 
 Tho' we think we can tell the goats from the 
 
 sheep; 
 Yet we only surmise by the company they 
 
 keep. 
 We are sheep, or else goats, away down in the 
 
 heart. 
 In the day of accounts Christ will set us apart, 
 But, take us together, we're a great motley 
 
 throng, — 
 Like Cripple Dick on a stick, we hobble along. 
 
 There are those to serve God much abler and 
 
 older. 
 Our preachers and deacons each have a broad 
 
 shoulder; 
 Our duties and labors we will lay upon these. 
 While we sail to the skies on beds of ease. 
 We are loving our ease much better than work, 
 And so, shunning the Cross, our duties we 
 
 shirk. 
 Of course, you will say, in this we are wrong, 
 But that is the way we are dodging along. 
 
 We are now in the vale, then again on the 
 
 mount, 
 Springs of comfort all fail, we're again at the 
 
 fount. 
 A zigzag course we are taking of late, — 
 Still, we say, we are bound for the pearly gate. 
 
 267 
 
Our working spell's short, and our sleeping 
 
 spell's long, 
 Oh! it's fearful the way we are shacking along. 
 
 Our King in the skies is holding our crown, — 
 He bids us look up, but we're still looking 
 
 down. 
 He offers to help us in winning the prize. 
 But our ears are quite dull, and heavy our eyes. 
 It is plain that in doing this way, we're to 
 
 blame, 
 But we are doing so, all, just the same. 
 I trust you'll go right, where we have gone 
 
 wrong. 
 Since I've told ycu just how we are limping 
 
 along. 
 
 We have guide book and compass to show us 
 
 the way. 
 But still we are often found out of the way. 
 If we'd look to our ways, we'd have better sail- 
 ing, 
 But we're watching to see our brother's worst 
 
 failing. 
 We know we should be living in love with all 
 
 others, 
 But we are biting the backs of our sisters and 
 
 brothers. 
 We have Bibles, to show us the right from the 
 
 wrong. 
 But we choose our own ways, and go shacking 
 
 along. 
 
 Since our lives and our ways are laid open and 
 
 bare, 
 You can see what kind of a people we are. 
 Our faults in our faces have often been hurled. 
 Yet we're very much like the rest of the world. 
 You can scarce pick us out when mixed with 
 
 the throng, 
 For we try to keep step as we're marching 
 
 along. 
 
 I have shown you our failings and faults in 
 my letter. 
 
 You ought to spur up, now, and try to do bet- 
 ter,— 
 
 Since you have our failings and faults to dis- 
 cuss. 
 
 You know you ought to do better than us. 
 
 I have shown you each step where we have 
 gone wrong, 
 
 So you need not, like us, go zigzagging along. 
 
 268 
 
We've discovered ourselves, and the picture is 
 
 true, — 
 May we hope that the case is much better with 
 
 you? 
 But whatever your lives, ours mostly are 
 
 wrong, — 
 And I've told you just how we are limping 
 
 along. 
 
 Perhaps your folks can pray better than we; 
 Better try it a hitch, and then you can see. 
 It won't take very long; do try, if you please, 
 Enter into your closet and get down on your 
 
 knees. 
 When you return to your work, you will carry 
 
 a song, 
 As we travel toward Zion, prayers boost us 
 
 along. 
 Some pray not at all, — their known duty they 
 
 dodge, — 
 While some people's prayers in the belfry do 
 
 lodge. 
 Still, some of us pray with our hearts to the 
 
 Lord; 
 We express our desires and we mean every 
 
 word. 
 Some whistle their prayers, or pray in a song, — 
 So now you can see how we are getting along. 
 
 If the piety of our people you are inclined to 
 
 doubt. 
 Remember I've been putting our worst side out. 
 Though we sometimes are baffled and foiled in 
 
 the fight; 
 Yet, I think, in the main, we m.ean to do right. 
 Of our goodness, of course, we don't feel very 
 
 proud. 
 For v/e're too m^uch inclined to run with the 
 
 crowd. 
 When we follow the crowd, we are apt to go 
 
 wrong. 
 And that explains why we've been limping 
 
 along. 
 
 There's a highway cast up, for us to walk in, 
 But we've some of us walked in the broadway 
 
 of sin. 
 May we turn back again from the road of death. 
 And follow our Lord in the narrow path! 
 Set our faces toward Zion, with a joyful song, 
 And never again be seen limping along. 
 
 269 
 
EXPERIENCE AND EXHORTA- 
 TION. 
 
 My friends, I've been writing some verses, 
 Making pictures of folks with my pen. 
 
 My dreams and my story rehearses 
 The schemes and the doings of m.en. 
 
 I have told of the dens of destruction. 
 Of the mischief the dramshop has done. 
 
 Of those who, on the day of election. 
 Kick over the good they have done; 
 
 Who bow to their parties, make idols, 
 
 Tread principle under their feet; 
 Of the Demon who rais'd those billows 
 
 That are wrecking the "Ship of State." 
 
 Of the olden time zealous preacher, 
 And the new one, so full of pride, 
 
 And of those who have left their Savior 
 To follow a prophet that lied. 
 
 I've told how I met Prohibition, 
 
 And what he was aiming to do! 
 Of the scheming politician. 
 
 How he lived on license fees, too; 
 
 Of the wars people wage for the traffic, 
 Of municipal schemes he employs; 
 
 By the house of ill-fame and the dramshop, 
 To ruin our girls and our boys. 
 
 I wrote of O'Shane and Malony, 
 And of Tim Malony's good wife; 
 
 The plea which she made against dramshops. 
 Yes, for home, for children and life; 
 
 Of a man who brought to the m.arket 
 What he call'd a new kind of grain. 
 
 Which he said was so greatly demanded, 
 And said 'twas discovered in Maine; 
 
 Of the beast which came from the ocean. 
 And crawled through the country and town; 
 
 How unmoved the people beheld him, 
 As he gulp'd their offspring down; 
 
 Of the dream of an ape about him; 
 
 Of the raiders who came to make war, 
 Of officials who pled for the monster, 
 
 That the life of the beast they would spare. 
 
 270 
 
Many things in my dreams I've been telling 
 
 Of sorrow, of discord and strife; 
 Of the waif who hated dramselling. 
 
 Which blighted and ruined his life. 
 
 How I dreamt that I went through the city; 
 
 How I traveled from town to town, 
 Seeking some one to join me in pity. 
 
 To help put the dramseller down. 
 
 There are many more things I've told you, 
 
 In my allegorical dreams; 
 To consider these evils I've called you, 
 
 Yes, tried to awake by my dreams! 
 
 But, friends, I've said little or nothing 
 Of the joys of my Christian life; 
 
 How the Lord has been my companion. 
 And has saved from the world's mad strife. 
 
 Altho' I've given you an inkling. 
 
 That the Savior of sinners was mine. 
 
 Now, I'll tell how I sought and found Him, 
 And obtained His favor divine. 
 
 For to save and to rescue sinners 
 
 From their habits, their sins and strife, 
 
 By preaching, by praying and dreaming, 
 I have given the years of my life. 
 
 What my Savior has done for my soul 
 
 Is what I now wish to record; 
 How he cleans'd and made my heart whole, 
 
 When my burdens I cast on my Lord. 
 
 When I threw myself down at His feet, 
 All burdened with sins and defiled. 
 
 How my Jesus in mercy did meet! 
 
 How He bless'd me and made me God's 
 child! 
 
 My sins, like great mountains, did rise, 
 And it seem'd I was certain of hell; 
 
 But my precious Lord answer'd my cries; 
 With love my poor soul He did fill; 
 
 Gave me the oil of joy for sadness; 
 
 And clothed with the garments of praise; 
 How He changed my m.ourning to gladness; 
 
 And for tears He put smiles on my face. 
 
 Oh! how precious Christ was to my mind! 
 
 His presence did fill with good cheer. 
 His speech as the low whispering wind, 
 
 My soul was attentive to hear; 
 
 271 
 
Like the voice of the gentlest wave, 
 When it kisses the banks in its flow, 
 
 But it seem'd He was mighty to save, 
 Tho' He spoke in a whisper quite low. 
 
 And at length I discovered His form. 
 
 His visage, I saw it was marr'd. 
 On His head was a crown made of thorns; 
 
 His back by the lash-whip was scarr'd. 
 
 His limbs were exposed and half bare; 
 
 His raiment was stain'd with His blood. 
 His generation, who shall declare, 
 
 He was stricken and smitten of God. 
 
 With His looks of compassion and grace, 
 He ravished my heart like a dream. 
 
 Such loveliness appears in His face, 
 His features with gentleness teem. 
 
 Cruel wounds in His hands I did see; 
 
 And a spear had pierced His side. 
 And I knew He was wounded for me — 
 
 For me He had sufTer'd and died. 
 
 In His eyes was the sweetness of heaven, 
 And mercy beam'd out in His face; 
 
 He spake and my sins were forgiven; 
 His breath was the odor of grace. 
 
 Then I gazed till His visage grew bright. 
 And a radiance of glory did lend; 
 
 His garments were glist'ning and white. 
 Then I knew it was Jesus, my friend. 
 
 Then I threw myself dov/n at His feet, 
 And told Him to take my poor heart. 
 
 When He enter'd, I felt Him so sweet, 
 I was sure that we never would part. 
 
 I am happy while Jesus is mine, 
 
 Tho' I'd nothing but hunger and cold; 
 
 But without Him, in sadness I'd pine, 
 Tho' possessed of a house full of gold. 
 
 'Tis not for the tongue of a mortal 
 To tell what I felt in my soul, 
 
 Of heaven, methought 'twas the portal. 
 Nor could I my feelings control. 
 
 I said, "I will tell it to others, 
 Who're burdened with sorrow and sin; 
 
 I'll begin with my sisters and brothers; 
 I'll tell them how Jesus came in." 
 
My heart became soft when I yielded, 
 Tho' before it was stubborn and hard; 
 
 The wounds of my conscience were healed 
 As soon as I trusted my Lord. 
 
 My fears and my doubts all subsided 
 
 As soon as I felt Jesus' blood, 
 And I pitied all those who derided. 
 
 For I saw in what danger they stood. 
 
 It is easy to pray now for sinners, 
 E'en such as before I did hate; 
 
 People noticed the change in my manners, 
 Said, "Something has happened of late." 
 
 Yes, something has happened to me; 
 
 Christ has taken my burdens away; 
 He has opened my eyes for to see. 
 
 I am happy by night and by day. 
 
 I love now to tell this sweet story. 
 
 For it is so gloriously true; 
 What He did for me, a poor sinner, 
 
 He's willing for others to do. 
 
 I'll be praising my Lord forever. 
 
 Who's shown me my sins are forgiven; 
 
 Who bled to procure me God's favor. 
 To save me, and bring me to heaven. 
 
 Many years I've been telling this story, 
 What Jesus has done for my soul; 
 
 And I hope to be singing in glory. 
 While the years of eternity roll. 
 
 Yes, I'll sing of His mercy who saved me, 
 When sinking and ready to die; 
 
 How He bled on the cross to redeem me, 
 And bring me to mansions on high. 
 
 I'll be vieing with saints and with angels, 
 
 In heavenly strains will I tell 
 Of the Lamb, which on Calvary suffer'd 
 
 To save poor sinners from hell. 
 
 Now, sinner, I wish to persuade you 
 To turn from your sins ere you die. 
 
 "Oh! come to His arms while He calls you, 
 While His offers of Mercy are nigh!" 
 
 Ere the Angel of Death serve on you 
 His summons, thus fixing your doom. 
 
 'Tis the day of salvation now for you; 
 Oh! heed while your Savior says "Come!* 
 
 273 
 
 (18) 
 
In love to the souls of poor sinners, 
 I invite them to turn while they may; 
 
 I'd say to them, "Tarry no longer, 
 Oh! why should you longer delay? 
 
 "Why stay away forming excuses? 
 
 An excuse is no reason at all; 
 But 'twill lessen your chances of heaven, 
 
 And harden your hearts; that is all. 
 
 "Your lives will flee like a shadow, 
 That's lengthening over the ground; 
 
 Ere the darkness of death overtakes you. 
 Oh! seek while your Lord may be found." 
 
 Take the cup of salvation now offered, 
 'Twas purchased for you, at great cost. 
 
 To make a way for you he suffer'd; 
 Why slight dying love, and be lost? 
 
 Why trifle and trample on mercy, 
 
 While in need of that mercy you stand? 
 
 Planting thorns in your own dying pillow, 
 Why bar your own soul from that land? 
 
 I entreat you, lay hold of His mercy. 
 While the scepter of mercy you see; 
 
 Accept of the cup of salvation 
 
 Christ purchased, and offers you free. 
 
 Sinners, trifle no longer with heaven. 
 Come while it is still called "today." 
 
 To your lips, the cup He is pressing. 
 Oh, take it, nor dash it away! 
 
 Kiss the Son now, lest He be angry. 
 
 Lest you grieve, when from you He turns; 
 
 Lest from the way you perish forever. 
 When His wrath but a little doth burn; 
 
 Lest you be lamenting forever. 
 
 When the summer and harvest are past. 
 
 Nor He offer thee life again ever. 
 While the years of eternity last. 
 
 Oh, come, while you may be accepted! 
 
 Have your sins washed away in His blood. 
 In the arms of His love be protected. 
 
 With the sons and the daughters of God! 
 
 Behold! thy dear Lord in the garden, 
 
 Sweating blood in great drops from each 
 pore; 
 
 While the sins of the world lay upon Him, 
 Meek Lamb, all our sorrows He bore. 
 
 274 
 
" 'Tis the cup which my Father hath given, 
 And shall I not drink it?" said He, 
 
 "That the sins of My foes be forgiven. 
 He hath laid all those sins upon Me." 
 
 Behold, now, thy Savior, poor sinner! 
 
 How He groans upon Calvary's tree; 
 Hear the prayers which He offers for pardon! 
 
 Hark! sinner. He's praying for thee! 
 
 Yes, for you and for me, he hath suffer'd. 
 That we from our sins might be free; 
 
 Meekly bearing His load, Jesus offer'd 
 Himself as a ransom for thee! 
 
 Come, trust and acknowledge your Savior; 
 
 Confess your dear Lord before men. 
 So when He shall make up His jewels. 
 
 Your Lord will confess your name then. 
 
 When the wicked and all who reject Him 
 Shall be told to depart into hell. 
 
 Then all who accept and obey Him, 
 With Jesus forever shall dwell. 
 
 Have a home in those heavenly mansions, 
 And join with that numberless throng; 
 
 Praising God and the Lamb for redemption. 
 "He hath loved us and died," be our song. 
 
 "He hath loved and died to redeem us," 
 All the armies of heaven will sing; 
 
 "Cast our crowns at His feet who loved us. 
 And crown Him forever our King." 
 
 I must bid you "Adieu" nov/, sinner; 
 
 But I'll still continue to pray 
 That your heart be softened by mercy 
 
 And your feet be led in God's way. 
 
 So when life's short journey is over, 
 And our bodies are laid in the tomb; 
 
 We in blood-washed garm.ents forever 
 May dwell in our heavenly home; 
 
 Walk the streets of the "Heavenly City," 
 And bathe in the "Rivers of Love." 
 
 With Abraham, Isaac and Jacob 
 Find a hom.e in the mansions above. 
 
 Where no sickness, no scrrov/, nor death 
 
 To annoy or molest any more; 
 No serpent, with poisonous breath, 
 
 To tem.pt on that heavenly shore. 
 
 275 
 
Look away to those heavenly mansions, 
 Which Jesus has gone to prepare! 
 
 Set your feet in the road to that city, 
 Oh, say, will you meet me up there 
 
 Where the "Tree of Life" is blooming, 
 Bearing fruit every month of the year; 
 
 Where the smiles of our God are beaming; 
 His hand wipes away every tear. 
 
 I will bid you farewell, dear sinner, 
 Till we meet in the Judgment Day; 
 
 Of the prize, if you'd be a sure winner. 
 You should enter His service today. 
 
 I will take that act as a promise 
 
 That you'll help to answer my pray'r. 
 
 By faith, running the race with patience 
 To the end, you'll meet me up there. 
 
 EASTER SUNDAY. 
 
 'Tis spring-timie, and the rippling rill 
 
 Is singing now beneath the hill; 
 
 'Twill join the stream which runs the mill, 
 
 Rejoicing on its way. 
 All creatures seem their time to know. 
 The farmer to his field doth go. 
 Prepares the ground his seed to sow. 
 
 In hope of reaping day. 
 
 The trees and shrubs now bud for bloom, 
 Nature is rising from her tomb, 
 Is putting off her somber gloom; 
 
 Spring birds their songs employ. 
 The fields put on their robes of green; 
 Are dressing gaily, like a queen; 
 Our hearts are gladdened at the scene. 
 
 It seems a thing of joy. 
 
 We hear the humming sound of bees. 
 While birds are singing in the trees. 
 And many pleasing sounds like these 
 
 And pleasant human voice. 
 A presage of the time to come. 
 When saints shall rise from slumbering tomb, 
 To heaven's brightness from their gloom 
 
 Forever to rejoice. 
 
 276 
 
With glad acclaim all nature sings, 
 All beasts and birds and creeping things; 
 Frail insects with their gauzy wings, 
 
 Enjoy their transient stay. 
 All this life and joy and bloom 
 An index is of what's to come 
 Beyond the limits of the tomb; 
 
 Presage immortal day. 
 
 Yes, high above material things. 
 Of gurgling brook, of bird that sings. 
 Of budding trees and grass that springs. 
 
 E'en all we see and hear. 
 The power which drove away our gloom, 
 The Almighty Christ who burst the tomb 
 And made our hopes to bud and bloom, 
 
 And filled us with good cheer. 
 
 Come, let us send a tidal wave 
 
 Of praise to Him who burst the grave 
 
 And manifests His power to save, 
 
 And made great Easter Day. 
 Our hope within the veil is cast. 
 Where our forerunner, Jesus, pass't; 
 And Faith, our cable, holds us fast. 
 
 Rejoicing on our way. 
 
 Our gifts and selves today we bring; 
 Our sweetest songs on Easter sing 
 In honor of our Risen King, 
 
 Who triumphed o'er the grave. 
 'Tis meet we should be glad today; 
 Our voices join in joyful lay; 
 Christ triumphed over death today, 
 
 With mighty power to save. 
 
 He makes our hopes to bud and bloom, 
 
 Christ left a lantern in the tomb. 
 
 And all is light where once was gloom, — 
 
 We now can see our way. 
 Elysian fields appear in sight; 
 The land is beautiful and bright; 
 For Jesus is Himself the Light, 
 
 The sun; He makes the day. 
 
 The Marys start at break of day, 
 Now they are talking on their way; 
 Say, "Who shall roll the stone away?" 
 
 But what a glad surprise! 
 Two angels sitting, clothed in white, 
 With faces shining clear and bright 
 (From glory land had made their flight). 
 
 Greet their astonished eyes. 
 
 277 
 
"You seek for Jesus," angels said. 
 "Why seek the living 'mongst the dead? 
 Your Lord is risen, as He said. 
 
 See where His body lay!" 
 They ran to bring the Easter word; 
 To tell of Christ our risen Lord, 
 Now swell the notes, touch every chord,— 
 
 Christ lives! 'tis Easter Day! 
 
 Yes, Christ has risen; that is true, 
 But does His spirit dwell in you? 
 Is your soul risen with Him, too? 
 
 Do you live for Him today? 
 Have you renounced the world and sin. 
 And idle words which yours have been? 
 Does Jesus dwell and reign within? 
 
 Then yours is Easter Day! 
 
 And you may carol like the bird, — 
 Your songs of praise each day be heard. 
 And testify by life and word 
 
 That Jesus lives in you. 
 Go spread the tidings everywhere. 
 To men in darkness and despair, 
 That Christ has risen; go declare! 
 
 Let them have Easter, too. 
 
 WHAT THE DIFFERENCE IS. 
 
 Two ministers from conference went 
 
 To different fields, where they were sent. 
 
 Each with different purpose and intent; 
 
 One for souls and one for self. 
 Inspired by the Spirit from above. 
 With a sense of duty and of love 
 In his field of labor one did move; 
 
 The other worked his field for pelf. 
 
 The Rev. Please Men's soliloquy, — 
 "This is blue Monday; let me see! 
 What next Sunday's text shall be. 
 
 I must avoid offense to give; 
 I will avoid each Scripture text 
 Which would fastidious hearers vex. 
 What subject shall I preach from next? 
 
 I must be careful. I must live! 
 
 278 
 
"I dare not touch a single sin 
 Which a paying member indulges in. 
 I'll set that down, firstly, to begin. 
 
 Yes, I'll adopt it as a rule. 
 I'll go and ask the leaders pat 
 What they desire, then give them that. 
 My purse will then be growing fat. 
 
 If I dorf't do so, I'm a fool! 
 
 "The subject is getting quite perplext; 
 What shall I take for my Sunday text, 
 Which folks will like and not get vext? 
 
 The subject of worldly conformity? 
 "'Twas for plain preaching, tho," he said, 
 "That John the Baptist lost his head. 
 I must preach smooth things, too," he said; 
 
 If the people's lap-dog I would be. 
 
 Now, if I take some other text 
 To enforce religious duties next 
 The backward members will be vext. 
 
 I fear that it will raise a storm. 
 I cannot preach on duty, I see, 
 Nor yet on worldly conformity; 
 Else people will set down on me, — 
 
 To people's wishes I'll conform." 
 
 He continues his soliloquy, 
 
 "What shall next Sunday's subject be. 
 
 So people will be pleased with me? 
 
 Nothing which offense will give. 
 " 'Gainst living in pleasure," reads a verse* 
 No, that's a subject I dare not rehearse. 
 Else they'll box up wife and order a hearse. 
 
 It will not do, for I must live! 
 
 (*See I Timothy, 5:6.) 
 
 A flowery essay I will read, 
 
 Tho' 'tis not just what people need; 
 
 'Twill please them, tho, it will, indeed; 
 
 'Twill culture and refine them, too. 
 But on what theme now let me see! 
 I'll talk on "Respectability." 
 Yes, that is just the theme for me; 
 
 I'll talk on that— that's what I'll do! 
 
 New ways and styles I, too, will dub, 
 
 I'll make the church a social club ; 
 
 Our church will then be called the Hub. 
 
 Aristocrats we then shall be. 
 Games and amusements we shall find 
 (Things suited to the carnal mind) ; 
 Leave sober, serious things behmd; 
 
 Give parties, too; that just suits me! 
 
 279 
 
But what the fruit of this knavish clown? 
 The midweek meetings all went down, 
 While worldliness increased in town. 
 
 In piety the church made no advance. 
 The membership are falling off; 
 Others worldly styles now doff; 
 The godly mourn; outsiders scoff; 
 
 Some members, too, play cards an^ dance. 
 
 But how about the godly m^an 
 
 Who worked upon a different plan? 
 
 Said, "I'll preach the Word, the best I can; 
 
 That is what I'm sent to do." 
 So taught the people what is right, 
 'Gainst worldliness he made a fight; 
 Warned folks with tears both day and night; 
 
 Reproved unruly members, too! 
 
 He pointed to the Savior's blood; 
 To Jesus as the way to God; 
 The path the Holy Prophets trod, 
 
 And said, "No other path will do!" 
 He warned his flock all sin to shun; 
 With patient faith the race to run, 
 And see that duties all were done. 
 
 Toward God and all men, too! 
 
 He sought the souls which went astray. 
 And turned their feet into the way 
 Which leads to God and endless day. 
 
 And gave to God the glory. 
 It seem'd to be his chief delight 
 To guide his people's feet aright; 
 To keep his garments pure and white. 
 
 And tell Redemption's story. 
 
 "She that lives in pleasures, too," he read, 
 "Will soon be formal, cold and dead; 
 Will severed be from Christ, our head; 
 
 Will lose all joy in prayer. 
 That worldly lusts we must deny. 
 And on our Savior keep an eye; 
 To tread His footsteps we must try; 
 
 Must have a constant care. 
 
 Now, for results! We find they were; 
 That the midweek hour for social prayer 
 Found the members mostly there, 
 
 Quite promptly in their places. 
 Some sinners to the altar came, 
 While wandering souls God did reclaim, 
 And all rejoiced in Jesus name, 
 
 And grew in all the graces. 
 
 280 
 
Now, this is what I've sought to do, — 
 
 To introduce those men to you. 
 
 The one v/as false, while one was true, 
 
 Which for pastor would you choose? 
 One led his flock to wordliness. 
 The other taught his holiness; 
 Christ's life on them sought to impress, 
 
 No sin in them did he excuse. 
 
 One led to pleasures, pastimes, sin, 
 And other lusts that's near akin; — 
 Instead of Jesus formed within 
 
 He broke the branches from the Vine; 
 Taught them in worldly ways to tread. 
 Withheld the Word, the living bread. 
 And gave them chaff and husks instead; 
 
 Such husks as Satan feeds his swine. 
 
 The flocks, of course, will follow well 
 
 (Up to heaven or down to hell) 
 
 The leading sheep that wears the bell, — 
 
 He leads toward one or^ t'other place. 
 He represents the King cTf Kings, 
 Who is sufficient for these things? 
 Not angels with their flaming wings. 
 
 But men endued with heavenly grace. 
 
 Men only, who are called of God, 
 Whose souls are cleansed in Jesus' blood- 
 Such men alone can do us good — 
 
 Can build us up in truth and grace. 
 God does endue m.en from above 
 And fires their souls with zeal and love; 
 Such m.en alone our hearts can move, 
 
 And turn us from our carnal ways. 
 
 No man should run whose heart is cold, 
 To feed the flock, the Savior's fold. 
 But called of God, like saints of old; 
 
 None other can so useful be. 
 Let him with gifts, with grace and love, 
 Who hears the Spirit from above, 
 And feels his inward impulse move. 
 
 Say, "Here am I, send me! send me!" 
 
 Now, him who on himself doth take 
 A shepherd's place, for lucre's sake, 
 Will but a hireling shepherd make. 
 
 Who cares not for the lambs and sheep; 
 The flock he values for its fleece, 
 For selfish motives seeks increase. 
 "Peace! Peace!" he cries, "when there's 
 peace." 
 
 When he should watchful vigils keep. 
 
 281 
 
The wolf doth come the sheep to slay, 
 
 While the idle shepherd is at play 
 
 At some silly game (perhaps croquet), 
 
 When he should m.ake the sheep his care. 
 But the good shepherd guards his fold. 
 As David did, in days of old, 
 From wolves, from hunger, and from cold; 
 
 To watchfulness adds song and prayer. 
 
 Now, I have questions, one or two. 
 Which I will now propound to you, — 
 "Are you a shepherd false or true?" 
 
 Come, tell us what your motives are. 
 You have beneath your care a flock, — 
 Do you lead for shelter to the rock. 
 Or are you just a stumbling block? 
 
 Come, now, I've put the question square! 
 
 I ask — but answer not to me. 
 For I am not the Judge, you see; 
 Answer to God, for it is He 
 
 Who'll call us to the judgment bar. 
 To all mankind He has desires; 
 He'll give to each what law requires. 
 Angelic joys or hellish fires; 
 
 And He knows who the faithful are. 
 
 Oh, yes; that time is com.ing when 
 The Lord will judge the sons of men; 
 All nations stand before Him then. 
 
 All give a strict account. 
 Their anguish then no tongue can tell. 
 When God shall say, "Depart to hell! 
 With Satan and his imps to dwell," 
 
 While saints to glory mount. 
 
 The shepherd then, who led astray 
 His flock into the downward way. 
 Must meet it in that awful day — 
 
 Must meet his final doom. 
 The faithful shepherd, too, wil! meet. 
 And joyful, too, each saved one greet. 
 With shoutings at the judgment seat. 
 
 To hear Christ say, "Well done!" 
 
 Will join with that unnumbered throng 
 Of saints and angels near the throne. 
 Then join with them the immortal song 
 
 In that grand eternal home. 
 Each unsaved soul I now entreat. 
 Prepare by grace your doom to meet, 
 Before we reach the judgment seat — 
 
 Prepare for joyful doom. 
 
 382 
 
To every one v/ho reads my rhyme, 
 
 I'd fay get ready now, in time. 
 
 For the comJng judgment, so sublime. 
 
 With jcy, and not with grief! 
 Repent of unbelief and sin. 
 And now the better life begin! 
 Seek Christ and purity within! 
 
 Seek God in true belief! 
 
 THOUGHTS ON CALVINISM. 
 
 There is a reprobation plan 
 
 (Som.ehow it did arise 
 By the predestination clan) 
 
 Of horrid cruelties. 
 
 The plan is this: They hold a few 
 Are foreordained for heaven; 
 
 They hold the rest accursed crew 
 Can never be forgiven! 
 
 They boldly teach God has decreed 
 
 Whatever comes to pass. 
 Som^e to be damned; some to be freed, 
 
 And this they call free grace! 
 
 This iron bedstead they do fetch 
 
 To try our hopes upon. 
 And if too short, we must be stretched. 
 
 Cut off, if we're too long! 
 
 This is a bold Satanic scheme, 
 
 It suits the serpent well, — 
 If he can make the sinner dream 
 
 That he is doomed for hell. 
 
 Of if he can persuade a mian 
 
 Decrees are on his side. 
 Then he will say without delay, 
 
 "The thing can't be denied." 
 
 He tells one sinner he's decreed 
 
 Unto eternal bliss. 
 He tells another he can't succeed, 
 
 For he is doomed to miss. 
 
 The first he bindeth fast in pride; 
 
 The second in despair. 
 If he can only keep them tied, 
 
 Which way he does not care. 
 
 (But I can see it plain enough. 
 That is only Satan's bluff.) 
 
 283 
 
No evil can from God proceed; 
 
 " 'Twas only suffered; not decreed! 
 As darkness is not from the sun 
 
 Nor mounts the shades, till he is gone." 
 
 When we condense John Calvin's plan 
 Of God's decrees, ordained for man 
 (Let those believe the stuff who can, 
 
 But we the horrid stuff deny), 
 'Tis what the serpent told to Eve, 
 The lie with which he did deceive. 
 That she might sin ana still would live, 
 
 To make man fall, he told the lie. 
 
 In substance, Calvin makes God say, 
 *'No odds how far from me you stray; 
 How low you sink, how long you stay. 
 
 The thing is fixt by firm decree. 
 Whatever comes to pass, indeed; 
 Yea, every act I have decreed; 
 You need not to your ways take heed; 
 
 'Tis nailed as tight as it can be. 
 
 Ere heaven or earth was made. 
 
 Or foundation of the mountains laid, 
 
 I nailed this fast and it has stayed, — 
 
 You never can escape from me. 
 It makes no odds what you may do. 
 For I've decreed your action, too. 
 Have fixt your words and works for you: 
 
 You cannot break my firm decree. 
 
 Since you belong to the elect, 
 I'm bound to show to you respect; 
 Your soul's salvation can't be wreck't. 
 
 By fiat you belong to me. 
 'Twas fixt before the world began. 
 Or dust was fashioned into man; 
 'Tis part of my eternal plan. 
 
 You cannot change my firm decree. 
 
 That's Calvinism, plain and strong. 
 Which Hardshell Baptists pass along. 
 But freewill Baptists say 'tis wrong. 
 
 They say, "'Tis rank fatality!" 
 They say the Lord has made man free 
 To act, and choose what he will be; 
 To follow Christ or from Him flee; 
 
 Hence, man's responsibility. 
 
 *The lines above are Lorenzo Dow's. 
 
 284 
 
And if not so, 'tis plain to see 
 That man a mere machine must be, 
 'Thout either praise or blame is he; 
 
 Without responsibility; 
 But God has taught us we must give 
 Account of how we act and live, 
 That a reward we shall receive, 
 
 In justice and in equity. 
 
 If what John Calvin says is true, 
 That '"Tis decreed what we must do. 
 And we must suffer for it, too. 
 
 And that to all eternity." 
 It sets God in a horrid light. 
 Consigning m^an to endless night 
 For doing what he only might; 
 
 Just what He had decreed to be. 
 
 Reflecting on the Lord's decrees 
 
 (As Calvin calls them, if you please. 
 
 For that's the light in which he sees), 
 
 He places man in horrid plight; 
 Says God decreed each person's act, — 
 All that he says and does, in fact; 
 Yes, everything, to be exact; 
 
 Then damns him for it — Is that right? 
 
 But modern Calvinists have it mixt; 
 Tho' by decrees the thing is fixt. 
 The gospel lets them in betwixt. 
 They say, "It is a proven fact 
 That man, tho' bound, is free to act." 
 But a man with half an eye can see, 
 If man is bound by firm decree 
 To act, he never can be free! 
 
 And it is plainly to be seen. 
 There's no such thing as go between. 
 Decrees make man a mere machine; 
 
 Machines, to act, are never free. 
 The m.an that's bound by firm decree 
 To go to hell eternally 
 Can't be partly bound and partly free. 
 
 That looks plain enough to me. 
 
 They set God forth with hideous features, 
 Playing Bo-peep with His creatures; 
 Strip him of all sincerity, — , 
 Make Him bind them by a firm decree. 
 Then call them, "Children, come to me!" 
 
 285 
 
They change God's Word into a lie, 
 So men will hate the Lord and die. 
 'Tis Satan's doctrine, that is why, 
 
 To drag folks down to endless night. 
 Such hellish doctrine I despise. 
 It ne'er descended from the skies, 
 For God is good, and just, and wise. 
 
 Shall not the Judge of all do right? 
 
 Now, when poor sinners they invite. 
 
 They leave decrees all out of sight, 
 
 And say, "You may come home tonigh^^!' 
 
 Say, "Jesus calls, come home today!" 
 Decrees, of course, are frightful bait! 
 And so they preach the gospel straight. 
 Leave out their fixt decrees and fate; 
 
 Say, "Christ is calling, come away!" 
 
 The general tenor of God's Word 
 Proclaims Him as a righteous Lord 
 (This truth the Bible does record), 
 
 Who hateth all iniquity. 
 To all His creatures He is good; 
 For every man Christ shed his blood, — 
 Would save each sinner, if he could, — 
 
 Would save, if man would yield, to be. 
 
 He rose and triumphed o'er the grave. 
 He lives with wondrous power to save; 
 Saves all who will salvation have. 
 
 He would not have the sinner die. 
 Is calling sinners, too, to com.e, — 
 He welcomes all, and makes them room. 
 And warns the wicked of their doom. 
 
 Oh, sinner, hear His dying cry! 
 
 He calls all men to cease from sin. 
 And spreads His arms to take them in; 
 His dying love all hearts should win, 
 
 But Satan tempts us to delay. 
 Would Satan ever tempt at all 
 If Christians could not sin and fall? 
 He seeks our ruin, that is all, — 
 
 To sin, and then be cast away. 
 
 Satan is busy every hour 
 Seeking whom he may devour. 
 All he gets within his power 
 
 He is aiming to destroy. 
 He has many servants, and they do 
 His dirty drudgery for him, too; 
 He is laying snares for you, 
 
 Man or woman, girl or boy. 
 
 286 
 
What do Calvinists think God meant 
 By commanding all men to repent? 
 (While their frail lives to them are lent.) 
 
 Did He do it in pretense? 
 He puts it plump, and plain, and square, — 
 "Commanded all men everywhere," 
 Exempting no one anywhere. 
 
 Will they impeach Omnipotence? 
 
 John Calvin thinks God's Book does lie, 
 
 God meant a few, the rest passed by. 
 
 Says God decreed, to a single man. 
 
 Just who He'd save and who He'd damn; 
 
 Has fixt it by a firm decree. 
 
 Just who the saved and damned should be. 
 
 Their knees are weak, their hands hang down, 
 They will not strive to win the crown; 
 
 Think God's decrees have nailed them down; 
 
 With idle hands and sluggish feet 
 
 Are going to the judgment seat. 
 
 Where ruined souls, perchance, they'll meet, — 
 
 They might have brought to Christ with ease 
 
 Had they not trusted in decrees. 
 
 Some one has written lines like these, 
 'Bout Calvin's doctrine of decrees: 
 
 "You can, and you can't, 
 
 You shall, and you shan't; 
 
 You will, and you won't. 
 
 You will be damned if you do 
 
 And you will be damned if you don't." 
 
 Decrees are "fixt so tight on you. 
 
 There's naught your helpless soul can do. 
 
 But God, in speaking unto man, 
 
 Reveals to us a different plan. 
 
 He tells us that we should, and can; - 
 
 He does not say, "I've m.ade decree 
 
 What every act of thine shall be, 
 
 But all the blame I'll lay on thee." 
 
 "I've made decree which you can't help, 
 
 That you must sin, you little whelp! 
 
 I'll damn you for it, you must knov/. 
 
 For My decrees to hell you'll go, — 
 
 Must stay in hell forever, too. 
 
 For doing what I made you do." 
 
 Calvinism, when boiled down. 
 
 Takes all the glory from God's crown. 
 
 Blasphemes His name; His truth belies; 
 
 Shuts out the light from Reason's eyes. 
 It blinds men's eyes so they can't see 
 God's love and impartiality, 
 Christ died for all; but such can see 
 
 That all means part by a decree. 
 
 287 
 
"God will have mercy on whom He will." 
 Come, think you who they be? 
 'Tis every one who loves His son 
 
 And from his sins doth flee. 
 'Tis every one that doth repent, 
 And truly hates his sin; 
 'Tis every one that is content 
 
 To turn to God again. 
 
 "And each one he will be hardeneth." 
 
 Come, think you who they be? 
 'Tis every one who hates His son, 
 
 And from the cross doth flee. 
 'Tis every one that in sins persist 
 
 And do out stand their day. 
 Then God in justice leaves e'en them to 
 
 Their own hearts' lusts a prey. 
 
 1 Tim. 2:4 — "Who v/ill have all men to be 
 saved." 
 
 2 Peter 3:9— "God is not willing that any 
 should perish, but that all should come to re- 
 pentance." 
 
 Ezekiel 18:23 — "Have I any pleasure in the 
 death of the wicked." 
 
 Love is God's eternal nature. 
 
 Is loving, too, to every creature. 
 
 Christ bears His image in every feature, 
 
 Who tasted death for every man. 
 And sent His followers to proclaim 
 To all conditions just the same 
 A pardon free in Jesus' name. 
 
 This is Jesus' gospel plan. 
 
 Go climb the steeps and cross the v^ave, 
 Go tell He lives with power to save. 
 Who rose and triumphed o'er the grave. 
 
 Proclaim to all a Jubilee! 
 Go quickly now, the tidings bear! 
 Go publish freely everwhere, 
 For men are dying in despair — 
 
 Tell them all power belongs to Me!" 
 
 This gospel preach to every creature; 
 This is its peculiar feature; 
 Impartial love is Jesus' nature. 
 
 "He died and rose to save us all!" 
 A faithful saying this, and true, 
 Christ came to save poor sinners, too; 
 Is willing and able this to do; 
 
 Extends His hands and makes the call. 
 
 288 
 
1 Cor., 8-11: "The weak may perish, for 
 whom Christ died." 
 
 Hebrews, 10-29: "The blood wherewith He 
 was sanctified." 
 
 Hebrews, 10-39: "Those who draw back 
 unto perdition." 
 
 This fact is plain; can't be denied;^ 
 
 They may perish, for whom Christ died, 
 
 And those who once were sanctified' 
 
 May "Draw back unto perdition."^ 
 God's promises are always sure. 
 To endless ages must endure.* 
 To those who keep their garments pure, 
 
 Faithfulness is the condition. 
 
 St. Peter tells us how to secure, 
 To make our own election sure. 
 That we may to the end endure. 
 
 That we from grace may never fall; 
 That we should seek in grace to grow. 
 Add virtue to our faith and go 
 And keep the fire of love aglow. 
 
 And so says John, and James, and Paul. 
 
 Why teach, "Let no m.an take thy crown,"^ 
 If God's decree has nailed it down 
 So tight, you can't incur God's frown? 
 
 Will modern Calvinist tell why? 
 Why say, "Make your election sure,"" 
 By adding all the graces pure. 
 So we may to the end endure? 
 
 If it's decreed you cannot die? 
 
 It seems that Paul must watch and pray, 
 
 Lest he become a castaway," 
 
 For what does he this sentence say? 
 
 Of course, he need not, but he may. 
 Our Lord had said to us before. 
 The salt that's lost its saving power 
 Is good for nothing any more;^ 
 
 The worthless stuff we cast away. 
 
 n Cor. 8:11. ^Heb. 10:29. ^'Heb. 10:39. 
 '2 Pet. 1:10. 'Rev. 3:11. '2 Pet. 1:10. '1 Cor. 
 9:27. 'Mark 9:50. 
 
 There was a time, there must have been. 
 When worthless salt 'neath feet of men 
 Had power to season in it then, 
 
 Which Jesus says, the salt has lost. 
 "Lord Jesus, I will trust in thee. 
 For thou alone hast made me free. 
 If others trust in a decree, 
 
 I fear they'll do it to their cost." 
 
 289 
 (19) 
 
God's Word I read, and I confess 
 A gracious soul may fall from grace, 
 The gospel precepts teach no less. 
 
 Then I must strip me for the race. 
 I find that I must watch and pray, 
 And strive by mercy every day 
 To keep the straight and narrow way; 
 
 Thus win the prize through sov'reign grace. 
 
 When in debate, mid heated wrath, 
 Calvin procured Servetus' death. 
 His feet were out of Jesus' path; 
 
 He did not to His ways take heed. 
 It seems the two were in a strife, 
 When Calvin rose in anger rife. 
 Like Cain, he took his brother's life. 
 
 And said, " 'Twas what the Lord decreed!" 
 
 Because he cannot Him confute. 
 Nor silence him in the dispute. 
 Rose up and slew him, like a brute; 
 
 Was not ashamed to own the fact. 
 Servetus to the stake he sent. 
 Made murder clinch the argument; 
 It seems he never did relent. 
 
 But thought the Lord decreed the act. 
 
 God's Book, of course, condemns the act, 
 A law against murder did enact; 
 'Gainst murder in the heart, in fact; 
 
 Against every kind of evil. 
 God speaks in thunder from the skies. 
 While Abel's blood for vengeance cries. 
 Murder is wrong. No one denies. 
 
 'Tis not of God, but of the devil! 
 
 But Calvin says a secret will 
 God has decreed, and must fulfill, 
 Which made him poor Servetus kill. 
 
 Contrary to the Written Word. 
 But that's a thing I really doubt. 
 For how could Calvin find it out? 
 Secrets don't often stalk about. 
 
 Calvin's creed belies the Lord. 
 
 We take God's Book, His written word. 
 Of the three-one thrice holy Lord 
 (Forever be His name adored) 
 
 There He reveals Himself as true. 
 Yea, true and righteous, altogether 
 His word will stand the test forever. 
 'Tis like Himself, it changes never; 
 
 Tells what we may and may not do. 
 
 290 
 
Unto our feet it is a light, 
 
 It always shows the path that's right; 
 
 Warns us to shun the ways of night, 
 
 And it is safe to follow, too. 
 'Tis here we make our final stand; 
 Go follow Christ, is the command. 
 The holy road to Canaan's land. 
 
 What He commands, 'tis safe to do. 
 
 The secret things are for the Lord, 
 But things for us are in His Word- 
 Things written there can't be ignored. 
 
 We follow that which is revealed. 
 The Bible is an open book, 
 And when with prayer we in it look 
 It shows each winding path, each crook — 
 
 Shows narrow path to Eden's field. 
 
 Though Calvinists make quite a fuss 
 O'er secret things which they discuss, 
 'Tis things revealed belong to us — 
 
 Belong unto our children, too! 
 Those are the things to do by grace, 
 To walk in all His righteou? ways, 
 And run the whole celestial race, 
 
 And shun the things forbidden, too! 
 
 Thy word. Almighty Lord, where'er it en- 
 ters in 
 
 Is sharper than a two-edged sword, to slay the 
 man of sin; 
 
 Thy word is power and life; it bids confusion 
 cease; 
 
 It changes envy, hatred, strife to love, and joy, 
 and peace. 
 
 Then let our hearts obey the gospel's joyful 
 sound; 
 
 Let all its fruits, from day to day, be in us 
 and abound. 
 
 291 
 
^o^ 
 
PART THIRD. 
 
AN ADMIRABLE LOVE LETTER BY 
 
 A BACHELOR, JIG PIGGLE- 
 
 JEE, TO MISS PEDEE. 
 
 Dear Madam: 
 
 I wish to make some statements true 
 
 To tell how much I think of you. 
 
 Whene'er your beauty I behold 
 
 I prize you more than I do gold. 
 
 I admire your form, — admire your face, 
 
 The smile which o'er your features plays, 
 
 Your charming voice, and winning ways, 
 
 Your movements, too, so full of grace. 
 
 With admiration on you I gaze, 
 
 I dream of nights and muse by days. 
 
 Your beauty charms my soul always. 
 
 Thus while admiring and gazing. 
 
 And while musing and praising, 
 
 My affections are carried away, with you, 
 
 And I notice that you are aware of it, too. 
 
 For I noticed that you noticed that I noticed 
 
 you. 
 And I noticed that you noticed that I noticed, 
 
 too. 
 That you noticed that I noticed you. 
 And how very bashful then I grew 
 And wished I was more handsome, too. 
 When I noticed that you noticed that I noticed 
 
 you. 
 
 Sometimes my mind is filled with pain 
 For fear my musings might be vain; 
 Anon my mind is filled with cheer, 
 And banished, all my pain and fear. 
 
 Alternating between the two. 
 Which ever way shall tip the scale, 
 If I shall win, or I shall fail. 
 
 Depends entirely all on you. 
 
 Some say I'm a bachelor, getting old. 
 Well, perhaps, but I will be bold 
 To call you my dear, my darling — my dove! 
 And discover to you, tho a bach, I'm in love. 
 You're the first I have loved in all my life. 
 And I wish you, my darling, to become my 
 
 wife. 
 Please take some paper, clean and white. 
 On which your answer, please to write. 
 'Twill take but little time you know 
 To answer "yes," or answer "no." 
 If you say "yes," then I shall sip 
 The nectar you press to my lip. 
 
 294 
 
But sad the tho't, if you say, "no"! 
 'Twill fill my cup with grief and woe. 
 You hold the scales in your own hand, 
 Can sink my hopes, or make them stand. 
 Please think of my fate, as you think of your- 
 self. 
 Would you be an old maid that is laid on the 
 
 shelf? 
 If my suit is denied, dear love, after all. 
 And I am compelled to keep bachelor's hall, 
 I will purchase a place adjoining your lot 
 And will build me a residence close to your cot. 
 I'll live close by your side, what ever you say, 
 And will haunt with my presence by night and 
 
 by day. 
 My love, dear madam, is constant and true. 
 And now, I will look for an answer from you. 
 Please answer my letter, without fail. 
 And answer it quick, by returning mail, 
 And oblige your lover, me, 
 Hon. Jig Pigglejee. 
 Well, now, I'm glad to give you Miss Pedee's 
 
 report. 
 She concluded to marry Mr. Pigglejee for 
 
 sport. 
 Said, rather than be courted all her life. 
 She thought she had better become Jig's wife. 
 She said it was plain he would never give up, 
 But would hang on and growl just like a bull- 
 pup. 
 
 So now she has sold her corner lot; 
 
 Has moved to his residence, out of her cot. 
 
 So Miss Pedee is now Jig Pigglejee's wife, 
 
 'Twas the only way to end the strife. 
 
 They now are living a sociable life. 
 
 She plays on the organ, he plays on the fife. 
 
 They now have children, obedient and good, 
 
 To do up the dishes, and bring in the wood. 
 
 And now, my friends, to you it is plain 
 
 That by dogged persistence, his suit he did 
 
 gain. 
 It is wisdom, then, to continue a suitor; 
 None but a cowardly fool would shoot her 
 (Because he doesn't happen to suit her), 
 No, none but a fiendish brute, sir. 
 If you've a sweetheart, be persistent and true, 
 Jig Pigglejee sets an example for you. 
 True love is a cord that will bind her fast 
 And constancy wins her love at last. 
 Have courage, then, my bachelor brother! 
 If your suit is denied, then try another. 
 For every Jack, there is always a Jill, 
 And if one won't come, some other one will. 
 
 295 
 
This truth to man is now well known, 
 That it is not good to "bach" it alone. 
 God made the woman to be man's wife, 
 To help him along in the journey of life. 
 But men want wives for different ends, 
 
 When they go out to court, sir. 
 One wants a wife, like Pigglejee, 
 
 To marry him for sport, sir. 
 Dick wants a wife to mend his clothes, 
 
 She must do it, too, to suit, sir. 
 For if she don't, or if she does. 
 
 He'll treat her like a brute, sir. 
 Tim wants a wife for his own lust. 
 
 To sing, and play, and laugh sir. 
 Tho he is bad, she must be good, 
 
 Must be his better half, sir. 
 Ned wants a wife to do the work. 
 
 While he sits round and snores, sir. 
 He gets his pipe and takes a smoke. 
 
 While she does up the chores, sir. 
 Jack wants a wife to sing his praise, 
 
 And give him a good name, sir. 
 If anything gets out of fix. 
 
 Wants her to bear the blame, sir. 
 But, sirs, sometimes she feels his taunts, 
 
 Tho he thinks it is a sin, sir. 
 For while her fingers darn his socks, 
 
 Her tongue is darning him, sir. 
 God made the wife to help the man. 
 
 But not to do it all, sir. 
 And if each one will do their part, 
 
 'Twill save them m.any a brawl, sir. 
 True love is always meek and mild. 
 
 Will patiently forbear, sir. 
 While want of it brings discord in. 
 
 And selfishness m.akes war, sir. 
 Before you wed be sure you love. 
 
 Love is the rule of heaven, sir. 
 'Tis mutual love binds two in one, 
 
 And makes life's pathway even, sir. 
 Love is the chiefest grace of all. 
 
 Love lightens all our labor. 
 But want of love will tire you out, 
 
 And tire your wife, and neighbor. 
 Let us conclude this subject now, 
 
 By summing up the matter. 
 If you love a girl and love her hard. 
 
 Then throw some kisses at her. 
 Don't rush at her with too much haste. 
 
 Don't throw from finger tips, sir. 
 But lay your arm about her waist, 
 
 And dash them on her lips, sir. 
 
 296 
 
No cold advances toward her make, 
 
 Don't feign to be above her, sir. 
 You cannot win her heart or hand, 
 Till she believes you love her, sir. 
 You need not make a cage for her, 
 
 Before you try to grab her, sir. 
 When she's convinced your love is true, 
 
 No other chap can nab her, sir. 
 Your bird convinced that you are true, 
 
 She will not tell you "no," sir. 
 She will not leave, nor fly away. 
 
 But will follow where you go, sir. 
 I know som.e things about a girl, 
 
 I'll tell one thing to you, sir. 
 Don't sling your kisses all about. 
 
 But pay them where they're due, sir. 
 If in her presence you delight. 
 
 And hold her on your lap, sir. 
 Then she will never take to flight, 
 
 Nor flirt with another chap, sir. 
 Another thing I'll tell to you, 
 
 Please bear it well in mind, sir. 
 What ever treatment you give her 
 
 She will give you the same kind, sir. 
 Now when your bird becomes your wife. 
 
 Don't let your love cool soon, sir. 
 But through the years of your married life. 
 
 Prolong the honeymoon, sir. 
 Don't lash her with your limber tongue 
 
 For that will never do, sir. 
 Else you will find her tongue as long 
 
 And just as limber, too, sir. 
 If you don't prove your love is true, 
 
 Remember what I've said, sir! 
 Then she will turn her back on you. 
 
 And kick you out of bed, sir. 
 If you are always kind to her. 
 
 She'll be a loving wife, sir. 
 But if you fret and scold at her, 
 
 'Twill stir up brawls and strife, sir. 
 Perhaps you'll think I'm just a sport. 
 
 And ask me how I know, sir. 
 Well I have been all through the mill, 
 
 And found out how things go, sir. 
 God made the wife for you to love, 
 
 He placed her in your hands, sir, 
 To love and cherish all your life. 
 
 Then heed the Lord's command, sir. 
 If you obey and live in love, 
 
 The Lord will be your friend, sir. 
 Then love her as He loved the church — 
 
 He loved it to the end, sir. 
 'Tis good advice I give to you. 
 
 Don't throw it all away, sir. 
 Or else your conduct you will rue, 
 
 I bid you now good day, sir. 
 
 297 
 
A MODEL LOVE LETTER. 
 
 In such a place, at such a time, 
 I write a letter, dear, in rhyme. 
 
 My lady love, I'd have you say 
 What time of night, or time of day, 
 
 On what corner, on what street. 
 You will be pleased with me to meet. 
 
 Together with me, ride or walk, 
 And have a confidential talk. 
 
 In what arbor's safe retreat 
 Both occupy some cozy seat. 
 
 I'd like to know your plans for life; 
 You see, I'm looking for a wife. 
 
 As you are rich and handsome, too. 
 My thoughts are dwelling much on you. 
 
 I'd like to have you feel quite free 
 To plainly state your mind to me. 
 
 Be pleased, my dear, to answer soon, 
 I'm anxious for the honeymoon. 
 
 As I believe you good and true. 
 You'll know what I expect of you. 
 
 You see, I've written this in rhyme ; 
 Good-bye, my love, no more this time. 
 
 P. S. 
 If you're disposed, my love, to write, 
 Invite me over there tonight. 
 
 I'll esteem it as a favor great, 
 And surely I'll reciprocate. 
 
 YOURS IN LOVE. 
 
 II 
 
 She did, and now they both are one; 
 The preacher tied them tight; 
 
 Both hustled for the honeymoon. 
 And both think each all right. 
 
 If any man who reads this tale 
 To take a wife would like. 
 
 Go write a letter to your gal. 
 Yes, a model letter write. 
 
 298 
 
Go find a girl of your own mind, 
 Both think about alike; 
 
 Propose to her to live "combined," 
 Then both go on a strike." 
 
 You've no excuse to bach it now, 
 Or live a single life. 
 
 Since I have told to you just how 
 To take yourself a wife. 
 
 When you and she are both combined, 
 Together hitched for life, 
 
 You must be gentle, true and kind, 
 To keep a gentle wife. 
 
 Tho' you and I may never see 
 Each other in this life. 
 
 The secret I have shown to you. 
 So get and keep a wife. 
 
 SENATOR PETTUS' ANECDOTE. 
 
 Mr. Pettus, a United States Senator from 
 Alabama, makes fun in Congress by telling 
 an anecdote, which I, in part, render mto 
 verse. 
 
 Pettus, the aged statesman, says, 
 
 "You remind m.e of my boyhood days. 
 
 And a sermon of an old-time preacher; 
 You get things very badly mixed; 
 'Tis hard to get them rightly fixed; 
 
 You're such a bungling teacher." 
 
 He sharpened up his native wit; 
 At his opponent makes a hit. 
 
 He said, "That preacher took a text. 
 But," said, "it seemed, he couldn't find it. 
 He looked awhile and got perplexed, 
 
 Then said, 'Well, never mind it.' 
 
 "Said, *As nigh as I can mind today, 
 My text it reads about this way: 
 
 Now Enon, he had seven sons; 
 Great strapping lads, I do declare. 
 And all these sons did milk a bear.' " 
 
 That's how the Pettus story runs. 
 
 299 
 
" 'Whatever commentators say, 
 There seems to me no better way 
 
 To solve this text than common sense.' 
 The preacher then .went on, and said, 
 'Now, Enon he was sick abed; 
 
 The doctor came at his expense. 
 
 " 'The doctor, as he came and went. 
 Prescribed som.e milk for nutriment. 
 
 Now, all those sons, which milk a bear, 
 Were still at home and in the house. 
 So they ran out to milk the cows. 
 
 But could not find them, I declare. 
 
 "'The doctor says, "Now, boys, be quick! 
 Enon, your dad, is very sick." 
 
 Those boys were good; yes, sir, they were. 
 They crossed the fields and ranged the wood. 
 Went everywhere and hunted good. 
 
 Those seven sons which milk a bear. 
 
 "They hunted good, I tell you now, 
 But could not find a single cow; 
 
 At last they find a big she-bear. 
 They tackle her and hold her tight, — 
 Yes, sir, they did, with all their might; 
 
 Those seven sons which milk a bear. 
 
 " 'They had a time of it, they had, — 
 You see, the beast was mighty mad, 
 
 But they were spunky lads, they were. 
 They said some milk their Pa must have, 
 For nothing else his life would save. 
 
 Those were brave sons which milk a bear. 
 
 " 'They all surround and grabbed the bear. 
 Now came with them the tug of war; — 
 
 One grabs the critter by the tail, 
 Another holds her by the jaws; — 
 Four others hold onto her paws; — 
 
 Another milks her, in the pail. 
 
 " 'She struggled hard, she raved and tore, 
 (She never had been milked before.) 
 
 They held her tho' and milked her there. 
 'Twas woodchuck case, you'll see at once, 
 As plain as day, else you're a dunce. 
 
 With Enon's sons which milk a bear. 
 
 '"They hold the critter like a vice; 
 Her, toes, though, wiggled once or twice. 
 
 These boys had orter all been there, 
 'Tis plain to me and plain to you, 
 The Bible says so, and 'tis true. 
 
 These seven sons did milk a bear. 
 
 300 
 
" 'They'd vowed against the brute, and said 
 They'd milk her, if it killed her dead. 
 
 So kept their vows and milk't her there. 
 They warn't no tenderfeet from town, 
 Which caught the beast and held her down, — 
 
 'Twas Enon's sons which milk a bear. 
 
 " *A picnic it was, oh! you're just right. 
 These girls were never hugged as tight 
 
 As them seven sons of Enon were. 
 'Twas Enon's sons, you'll please take heed, 
 No other chaps would na'r done the deed, 
 
 Except Enon's sons which milk a bear. 
 
 " 'She reared, and tried to climb a tree, 
 And tried to bite and tried to flee. 
 
 But they were strapping lads, they were; 
 They got her where she could not flinch. 
 So tight she could not budge an inch, 
 
 Brave seven sons which milk a bear. 
 
 "'They robbed her cubs and milked her clean; 
 Such milking bee was never seen, 
 
 But they were mighty strong, they were. 
 They feared Dad Enon he might die; 
 So held her tight and milked her dry, 
 
 Brave seven sons which milk a bear. 
 
 " 'They bear the milk unto their dad. 
 I tell you he was mighty glad; 
 
 And they were happy, too, they were; 
 And now, good folks, I'm glad to tell 
 That Enon he got stout and well, 
 
 To bless those sons which milk a bear. 
 
 " 'Now, it had come to light of late 
 That it was all a thing of fate. 
 
 They could not help but milk her. 
 The thing, of course, is plain to see, 
 The preacher says it had to be, — 
 
 For these seven sons were born to milk her. 
 
 " 'That Bible story's rich and rare, 
 'Bout Enon's sons which milk a bear. 
 
 The preacher then kneel'd down and said: 
 'Thank God for His preserving care 
 O'er Enon's sons which milk a bear, 
 
 Else she'd have killed them youngsters dead.' 
 
 "The preacher now gets up, and stands, 
 And holds aloft and spreads his hands, 
 
 'We'll be dismissed (with heads all bare).* 
 His congregation then disperse, 
 While with each other they converse 
 
 'Bout Enon's sons which milk a bear. 
 
 301 
 
"He could not find the text, he said, 
 So they went home and read and read, 
 
 For Enon's sons which milk a bear. 
 They read their Bibles, book by book, — 
 In every verse for text they look, — 
 
 But could not find it anywhere. 
 
 "Well, I must stop and tell you now, 
 That preacher, he was off, somehow. 
 
 Yes, sir, he was; I do declare. 
 'Twas Nahor's sons, all eight of them. 
 Big strapping fellows, full-grown men — 
 
 Eight sons to Nahor, Milcah bare!" 
 (Genesis 22:23.) 
 
 "These senators," said Pettus, then, 
 "Are just about as knowing men, 
 
 In laws and government affairs; 
 No more correct and no more wise 
 Than him whose fancy wove those lies 
 
 About Enon's sons which Milcah bare." 
 
 He says, "Those statesmen need no more, 
 But wings of eloquence to soar, — 
 
 No facts, nor figures, do they need, — 
 Need nothing, only just to soar, — 
 Just stop their ears, and rant, and roar, — 
 
 To sense and logic pay no heed. 
 
 "If in oratory we take pride, 
 
 Then we must lay all facts aside, — 
 
 All public interests of the nation. 
 All we want is to rise and soar; 
 We want that bad, but nothing more, — 
 
 Nothing in all this whole creation." 
 
 So Pettus tells another tale, 
 
 It seems that it was rather stale; 
 
 It has been told so often; 
 Takes courage, tho, for one to tell 
 A story people know so well. 
 
 But, still, some hearts may soften. 
 
 Says party policy rules their acts; 
 Imagination serves for facts; 
 To self they bow, — self is their shrine. 
 "Me, my son John, his wife and mine. 
 Oh, Lord! bless only just us four. 
 And not one single person more!" 
 Thus pray these selfish, scheming men, 
 They stop at self and say, "Amen!" 
 
 302 
 
At Pettus' story all were pleased; 
 
 They laughed to think the lads got squeezed. 
 
 They call his anecdote a gem; 
 But I must make a sad report, 
 For, tho' he made them so much sport, 
 
 They turned our hero down, those men. 
 
 Though Pettus did his compeers hit, 
 They laugh't at his sarcastic wit. 
 And his story I will not assail, 
 Though it be lacking in detail. 
 
 Where lack of detail 
 
 Leaves your minds in doubt; 
 My rhyme will help 
 
 The hoary statesman out. 
 
 That preacher who wove 
 
 In his fancy those lies 
 About milking *a bear' 
 
 Should have been more wise. 
 
 Now, the Bible is true, and the Bible is good, 
 Through inattention oft it is misunderstood. 
 And then it is changed, as the story grows. 
 From as black as a crow into three black 
 crows! 
 
 A preacher remarked in his sermon one day, 
 "We should not believe all we hear people say; 
 Should I say the moon is made of cheese, you 
 
 know, 
 My saying it would not make it so." 
 
 But a listless hearer, getting it mixed, 
 To peddle it out, the thing she fixed, 
 Then told throughout the neighborhood, 
 "That preacher's not one bit of good; 
 He is round a-telling lies like these — 
 Says the moon is all made out of cheese!" 
 
 Some, hearing it, thought the man a fool. 
 And stayed from church and Sunday school. 
 So let us read God's Word with care, 
 And be attentive when we hear. 
 We'll never read it anywhere 
 These seven sons did milk a bear. 
 
 Nor preacher telling lies like these, 
 
 "The moon is all made out of cheese!" 
 
 The attentive reader always knows 
 
 That as black as a crow, isn't three black 
 
 crows. 
 Nor makes folks think the preacher a fool. 
 But invites them to church and to Sunday 
 
 school. 
 
 303 
 
For the wayside hearers who don't understand, 
 Like the stony ground, or the thorny land. 
 No good shall reap in the judgment day 
 From the good seed scattered along their way. 
 
 But the attentive hearers, like unto good land. 
 Who hear with the heart, and who understand, 
 "Shall reap from thirty to a hundred fold," 
 A harvest in joy; far richer than gold. 
 
 "JOB'S TURKEY." 
 
 Once on a time, with his father was walking, 
 An inquisitive lad, who thus began talking: 
 
 "When a person is poor, the people all say, 
 *As poor as Job's turkey,' what m.akes them, I 
 pray? 
 
 When Job was so rich, it is shocking to me 
 How his fowl should a byword of poverty be. 
 
 How poor was this bird, and what made him 
 
 so thin, 
 That the world is making a proverb of him? 
 
 For, whoever is poor in any degree, 
 
 Is called just as poor as Job's turkey, you see. 
 
 Come, now, and explain this thing, if you 
 
 please; 
 How Job's turkey was poor in such different 
 
 degrees. 
 
 If you answer me well, you are a clever old 
 
 chap. 
 And a feather, of course, it will be in your cap. 
 
 Say, was he as poor and as slim as a rail? 
 Were the feathers all gone except one from his 
 tail?" 
 
 Thus they talked as they walked, 
 
 Both the lad and his dad. 
 
 Now the lad was quite clever, and his dad 
 faltered never; 
 
 Still, walking and talking the two were to- 
 gether; 
 
 Of^ Job's turkey they talked while together 
 they walked. 
 
 They talked as they walked of his one ragged 
 feather. 
 
 304: 
 
Well pleased with the question, his father then 
 
 said: 
 "Of course, holy Job and his turkey are dead. 
 
 But as poor as Job's turkey is an adage, you 
 
 see. 
 And it means just as poor as a person can be. 
 
 That Job's turkey was poor, there's no one can 
 
 doubt; 
 But the cause of his poverty none can find out. 
 
 Perhaps 'twas the cyclone which destroyed 
 
 Job's sons 
 That blew all the meat from the old turkey's 
 
 bones. 
 
 And left him with legs like the legs of a quail, 
 While but one ragged feather remained in his 
 tail ; 
 
 Or, for aught we can tell, Job's turkey was 
 
 born 
 On the day the Sabeans cam.e and took all the 
 
 corn; 
 
 And left him to starve, with the rest of the 
 
 chickens; 
 Perhaps that's what made him as poor as the 
 
 dickens." 
 
 Thus they talked as they walked. 
 
 Both the lad and his dad. 
 
 For the lad was quite clever, and his dad fal- 
 tered never. 
 
 Still walking and talking, they two were to- 
 gether; 
 
 Of Job's turkey they talked while together they 
 walked; 
 
 They talked as they walked of his one ragged 
 feather. 
 
 Now, Job's three handsome daughters may 
 
 have run off his fat. 
 Each seeking a feather to put in her hat. 
 
 For, so poor was Job's turkey, he scarcely 
 
 could hobble 
 To the barnyard fence, where he leaned up to 
 
 gobble. 
 
 So poor was Job's turkey, so sad was his fate. 
 He'd no pole for to roost on, no shelter, no 
 mate. 
 
 305 
 
 (20) 
 
He ran in a flock by himself, all alone, 
 
 No picking had he but the pure gravel stone. 
 
 And so weak was his voice he could scarcely 
 
 stay put. 
 And he staggered and fell when he attempted 
 
 to strut. 
 
 Thus they talked as they walked, 
 
 Both the lad and his dad, 
 
 For the lad was quite clever and his dad fal- 
 tered never. 
 
 Still walking and talking, they two were to- 
 gether. 
 
 Of Job's turkey they talked as together they 
 walked. 
 
 They talked as they walked of his one ragged 
 feather. 
 
 "But who is as poor as Job's turkey?" you ask. 
 My lad, 'tis the fellow who carries a flask. 
 
 And he who to license the dramshop doth vote. 
 It will clothe him in rags instead of a coat. 
 
 Though he for warm boots in cold weather 
 
 doth wish; 
 Yet the toes of his shoes will gap like a fish. 
 
 Though he strut like a turkey, he may stagger 
 
 and fall. 
 And the man in the ditch is the poorest of all. 
 
 Of courage and manhood entirely bereft. 
 No respect for himself nor his friends has he 
 left; 
 
 No honor, no morals, no money, nor home. 
 And kicked from the dramshop, at midnight, to 
 roam. 
 
 With wounds and with bruises, and muddled 
 and murkey. 
 
 He fills up the proverb, "as poor as Job's tur- 
 key." 
 
 Thus they talked and they walked, 
 
 Both the lad and his dad, 
 
 For the lad was quite clever, and his dad fal- 
 tered never. 
 
 Still walking and talking, they two were to- 
 gether. 
 
 Of Job's turkey they talked as together they 
 walked. 
 
 They talked as they walked of his one ragged 
 feather. 
 
 306 
 
DAME RUMOR. 
 
 This was written during the courtship of my 
 grandson, George A. Potter and Miss Lida 
 Cook, who afterwards married and are now 
 man and wife. 
 
 As people did their vigils keep 
 And I was dozing off to sleep. 
 Dame Rumor came and spoke to me 
 And said, "I bring some news for thee." 
 
 You all know Rumor pretty well 
 And here is what she had to tell: 
 "Two artisans of different trade, 
 The one a man and one a maid. 
 
 "His trade a potter, hers a cook. 
 Quite wishful at each other look. 
 But what those looks do really mean, 
 Rem.ains in future to be seen." 
 
 Dame Rumor came again one day, 
 And this is what she had to say: 
 "That potter's wooing of that maid. 
 To learn and take away her trade. 
 
 "Or else, perhaps, he'll have the vim 
 To coax her up to cook for him. 
 If such a thing should chance to be, 
 'Twill make a jolly cooking bee. 
 
 "If his trade she takes, becomes a potter, 
 Or he turns cook and carries water. 
 They'll have two trades, so both must work, 
 And neither have excuse to shirk. 
 
 "Some signs of it of late are found 
 With him she loves to potter round." 
 Dame Rumor then did shake her head, 
 "I've plenty more such news," she said. 
 
 She guesses and conjectures, too, 
 And often what she says comes true; 
 But true or not, I'll write it down, 
 So I can tell it in the town. 
 
 "Should they join partnership for life. 
 He take her trade 'twill cause them strife, 
 To run two trades makes lots to do, 
 'Twill keep them out of mischief, too. 
 
 307 
 
"If she should take his trade and name, 
 Then she'll go pottering round the same. 
 If he takes hers, becomes a cook, 
 Their trades exchange, how odd 'twill look! 
 
 "Yet it will give them lots to do, 
 For cooks are scarce and potters, too. 
 Both trades are now in good demand, 
 Good wages both of them command. 
 
 "Should they combine, it may insure 
 A. dozen potters, maybe more. 
 Should that result from such combine, 
 'Twill lower wages every tim.e. 
 
 "To potter for him, she must run. 
 And he do cooking just for fun. 
 'Twill be so cheap they'll neither like, 
 'Tis feared they may go on a strike. 
 
 "Should he strike her, she'll have the vim 
 To flare right up and strike at him. 
 So we must wait a while to see 
 What the result of it will be. 
 
 "Meanwhile you'll keep an anxious look 
 Both at the potter and the cook. 
 For potters always work in clay. 
 And cooks make doughnuts day by day." 
 
 If the cook and potter do combine. 
 
 As Rumor tells us in her rhyme. 
 
 If their clay and dough, they chance to mix. 
 
 Both trades to spoil, get in a fix, 
 
 'Tis what combines are apt to do. 
 Get some folks in a bad fix, too; 
 But small combines are pretty good. 
 If people run them as they should. 
 
 Let cooks and potters have a care, 
 Lest they spoil both the broth and ware. 
 'Tis what no tradesman e'er could wish 
 To spoil the broth, or mar the dish. 
 
 Let her knead dough, let him mix clay. 
 Then they'll go joyful on their way. 
 So let the potters and the maids 
 Themselves combine, but not their trades. 
 
 'Tis plain to all 'twill better look 
 For him to potter, her to cook. 
 Each tradesman will the better like 
 His partner and avoid a strike. 
 
 308 
 
"If two should try the wheel to turn, 
 Or two to cook, the cake will burn. 
 Let her do cooking, him keep shop," 
 Right here Dame Rumor made a stop. 
 
 But, as she'd told it over twice. 
 They'd better take the Dame's advice; 
 Let cooks make cakes, potters make dishes, 
 According to Dame Rumor's wishes. 
 
 Now, when the potter and the cook 
 Do at Dame Rumor's verses look. 
 They'll act, of course, to suit themselves. 
 Put cakes and dishes both on shelves. 
 
 But if the potter ne'er should make 
 A dish for her, nor her a cake; 
 Or if the cook ne'er takes the potter 
 To help her cook, or carry water, 
 
 Dame Rumor might as well be dead 
 For all that she has ever said 
 About those tradesmen, cook and potter; 
 We'd have fared as well without her. 
 
 But there must be something in Dame Rumor, 
 Her eyes did twinkle so with humor. 
 Perhaps she's made a true report; 
 She'd hardly talk so much for sport. 
 
 She's caught our ears to hear her tale. 
 We'll watch those tradesmen, without fail. 
 And watch them close, without a doubt, — 
 Know for ourselves how they come out. 
 
 When all the facts we've seen and heard, 
 We'll write again or send you word. 
 Tell why the potter and the cook 
 So often at each other look. 
 
 When from my revery or dream 
 
 I rous'd me up, how strange it did seem! 
 
 Dame Rumor'd made of me a fool. 
 
 For both those folks were teaching school. 
 
 Still both the potter and the cook 
 Do wistful at each other look. 
 And each is acting all the time 
 As if intending a combine. 
 
 And if those tradesmen join together. 
 Mix one trade up with the other; 
 Get themselves all mix't up with doubt, 
 Dame Rumor's rhymes may help them out. 
 
 309 
 
Since this paper flings out to the breeze 
 Its columns for such tales as these, 
 Of course its readers won't refuse 
 This little item of the News. 
 
 I give this news, dear friend, to thee, 
 As Rumor told it unto me. 
 I know not if 'tis false or true, 
 But simply pass it on to you. 
 
 If Rumor's story you'd correct, 
 
 To any part of it object; 
 
 If both those arisans you find 
 
 Their trades to swap are not inclined, 
 
 And if the potter and the cook, 
 
 When they do at each other look. 
 
 Are meaning nothing all the time. 
 
 Then you may burn Dame Rumor's rhyme. 
 
 But if her story does prove true, 
 
 As I have told it unto you; 
 
 Then both the potters and the cooks 
 
 Will soon combine, that's how it looks. 
 
 A RHYME IN A PENCIL. 
 
 You will wish, I am sure. 
 
 To know how I procure 
 These rhymes, and you will think it a pity. 
 
 When I tell you this rhyme 
 
 Which you've read isn't mine, 
 Tho I wish that it was, it's so witty. 
 
 But I must really decline 
 
 To own it as mine. 
 For I made not the rhyme, simply found it; 
 
 For the thing I did pick 
 
 From the middle of a stick. 
 With the wood glued tightly around it. 
 
 Must have come from his head 
 
 Who put in the lead. 
 From the pencil I am sure that I drew it. 
 
 "Something is in it," I said, 
 
 "Which the cap on its head 
 Was intended to hide, and I knew it." 
 
 310 
 
It never grew in the wood, 
 
 I'd examined it good. 
 I could see in less than a minute. 
 
 I conjectured and said, 
 
 "It is mixed with the lead, ^^ 
 
 Which the maker of pencils put in it. 
 
 So I tried for a time 
 
 To thump out the rhyme; ^ , 
 
 Then I shook it, and squeezed it, and bit it. 
 
 But nary verse could I get. 
 
 I must try with my wit, 
 Or else I will have to quit it. 
 
 "There's some way to do it," 
 
 I said, and I knew it. 
 Then I said I would cut up a caper. 
 
 So I whittled the wood 
 
 And tapered it good, 
 Then held the point down on some paper. 
 
 Then out gushed the rhymes. 
 
 With the news of the times. 
 'Tis a fact, and I wish you to note it. 
 
 From my pencil it came. 
 
 And is called by my name. 
 But in the pencil it was when I bought it. 
 
 Circumstance, it is true. 
 
 Had a little to do ; 
 But the maker of pencils forethought it. 
 
 Just like him to know 
 
 What this pencil would do. 
 I just held to the pencil which wrote it. 
 
 So, if you're not a dunce, 
 
 You'll acknowledge at once 
 'Tis the truth which I've told you about it. 
 
 I just held to the top. 
 
 Let the little end flop. 
 'Twas the end that I whittled which wrote it. 
 
 311 
 
SUNNY DAY AND BLOOMING MAY. 
 
 (His name is Day; her name is May.) 
 
 "There is no month for me like May, 
 The month when birds are singing gay. 
 No song so sweet, so sweet, nor tune, — 
 Not e'en sweet month of roses, June. 
 So says her lover. Sunny Day, 
 No month for me but Blooming May." 
 
 "All things are beautiful and bright," 
 Says May. "There really is no night,— 
 For all is light when Sunny Day 
 Comes round, says 'Blooming Little May!' 
 All things are looking bright and gay. 
 And all my nights have turned to Day. 
 
 "The month of May is much the best, 
 Obliterating all the rest," 
 Says her bright lover. Sunny Day. 
 "There really is no month but May." 
 She whispers, "Lover Sunny Day, 
 With you my nights are passed away. 
 
 "Come, best, let's play a little game! 
 
 I'd like to change somewhat my name, 
 
 For since my nights have passed away, 
 
 I'd like with you to be a Day. 
 
 I'd always be your darling May, — 
 
 Come, speak up quick; what's that you say? 
 
 "I thought you would, that just suits me. 
 
 Ha-ha, Ha-ha, Te-he, Te-he, 
 
 My cup is full as it can be." 
 
 Now all his months have turned to May, 
 
 Since all her nights have turned to Day. 
 
 Oh! happy Day! Bright Blooming May! 
 
 Miss May Richards, after reading Dame Ru- 
 mor, asked the writer to contribute a poem for 
 her and her lover, Mr. Bert Day. Suffice it to 
 say, they are now man and wife. 
 
 312 
 
PIONEER DAYS. 
 
 Charles McEwen, or "Uncle Charley," as he 
 was familiarly called, was a native of Ver- 
 mont, but became a pioneer in the early set- 
 tling of McLeod County, Minnesota, where he 
 followed dairying and farming as a joint occu- 
 pation for a livelihood. Being a man of parts, 
 he became extensively known and famous in 
 his calling as a cheese and butter maker. He 
 was remarkably gifted in story telling, and, 
 having a retentive memory, he invariably had 
 a fund on hand suited to every occasion, sub- 
 ject, and circumstance. He was also elected to 
 and served a term in the legislature of Minne- 
 sota with honor to himself and with credit to 
 his constituents. A few years ago the Hutch- 
 inson Independent opened its columns to the 
 early settlers of the county for articles of 
 reminiscence of those early times. This op- 
 portunity was responded to by several, and a 
 number of interesting articles appeared. And 
 among others, "Uncle Charley" wrote interest- 
 ingly of the crisis of 1857 and subsequent years. 
 He told how the early settlers had to go bare- 
 footed, and in the absence of bridges had to 
 wade sloughs, attend court and other public 
 gatherings barefooted. "Uncle Charley" men- 
 tioned the different ages of the world: the iron 
 age, the stone age, etc., and in making compari- 
 sons he called that period "the barefooted age." 
 He finally concluded his article by remarking: 
 "I guess I was born so." After reading his 
 article, I wrote "The Barefooted Age," but 
 without a thought of having it published until 
 "Uncle Charley" requested its publication in 
 the Hutchinson Independent. — The Author. 
 
 "Uncle Charley" Pioneering, or "The Barefoot- 
 ed Age." 
 
 Uncle Charley, it is said. 
 
 Took it into his head 
 That he'd like to be born in barefeet; 
 
 So came upon life's stage 
 
 In the barefoot age. 
 Which agreed with his notions complete. 
 
 It is just as I say. 
 
 Had it all his own way. 
 So was born barefooted from choice. 
 
 He was born without shoes, 
 
 So he could wade in the sloughs, — 
 Splash about in barefeet with the boys. 
 
 313 
 
Since the event comes but once, 
 
 He'd have been a great dunce 
 To be born in the world with shoes on. 
 
 So he kicked off his shoes 
 
 And did stoutly refuse, 
 So you see it was all his own choosing. 
 
 We'll suppose Uncle Charley 
 
 Has put the thing squarely, 
 When he calls it "The Barefoot Age." 
 
 Well, 'tis much better to be 
 
 Born barefooted, you see. 
 Than not to be born at all (I'll engage). 
 
 In an event of that kind. 
 
 You will bear in your mind, 
 He'd missed many things small and greater; 
 
 Such as riding on teeters 
 
 And fighting mosquiters. 
 And of acting as state legislator. 
 
 'Twould deprive him, in truth. 
 
 Of his childhood and youth, 
 And the things which came later in life; 
 
 Blotted out all his sporting. 
 
 His pastimes and courting. 
 And the pleasure of taking a wife. 
 
 Making butter and cheese 
 
 And such as these 
 (Which he's made by the ton) is his glory; 
 
 And tho born in bare feet. 
 
 He's an expert, complete, 
 In telling the folks a good story. 
 
 He was born, it is said. 
 
 With a tale in his head. 
 And he knows how to fix it and shape it. 
 
 All honor to Charley, 
 
 He brings it out squarely; 
 Charley tells it, but he does not make it. 
 
 Tho his stories are funny. 
 
 Still he asks not for money, 
 For he's seeking no person to rob. 
 
 He is honest, tho poor, 
 
 When he comes to your door, 
 It is never to put up a job. 
 
 By the course of events 
 
 He must soon go from hence. 
 For his age is now telling its story. 
 
 But his friends humbly pray. 
 
 Uncle Charley may stay 
 Till he is well fitted for glory, 
 
 314 
 
When he's gone, those who stay 
 
 Will for many a day 
 Be rehearsing the stories he's told. 
 
 Folks will tell what he's said, 
 
 Even after he's dead, 
 Be ruminating his stories of old. 
 
 And so let us all try, 
 
 "By God's grace, ere we die, 
 
 To live lives which will tell a good story; 
 That will preach to the people, 
 Like the bell from its steeple. 
 
 Lives inviting them onward to glory. 
 
 'Tis acknowledged by friends 
 
 That Uncle Charley transcends 
 All others in telling a story. 
 
 It's not so with me, 
 
 (To this you'll agree). 
 For in yarning I never sought glory. 
 
 I was born, tho, 'tis said, 
 With a rhyme in my head, 
 
 Tho I never have posed as a poet. 
 I've chronicled the times. 
 And have done it in rhymes, 
 
 And in time I may let people know it. 
 
 'Spose I came on life's stage 
 
 In the barefooted age. 
 But can't say I did so from choice. 
 
 Born barefooted, 'tis said, 
 
 But, my! wasn't I mad! 
 And protested by raising my voice. 
 
 Soon as I got the news 
 
 That I'd come without shoes, 
 I squalled like hen caught by owl. 
 
 Oh, so sad I did feel! 
 
 How I did kick and squeal! 
 Like a dog in a trap, I did howl. 
 
 'Twas the first time I cried. 
 
 And if folks have not lied, 
 I began then a series of squalls. 
 
 As the story now goes. 
 
 Began stubbing my toes 
 In a short time, and had many falls. 
 
 To put the thing squarely, 
 
 If (like Uncle Charley), 
 I'd have had the thing all my own way; 
 
 If I'd had my own choosing, 
 
 I'd have come up with shoes on, 
 After the barefooted age passed away. 
 
 315 
 
While bare feet make me sad, 
 
 It's a token of bad, 
 And did put me in a terrible plight, 
 
 Naught suited him better, 
 
 A shoe was a fetter. 
 To go barefooted was Charley's delight. 
 
 Since it is as it is, 
 
 Since my life's so like his. 
 In splashing along through life's sloughs; 
 
 Not much odds, you will see. 
 
 Betwixt Charley and me. 
 Since we both were born without shoes. 
 
 Both been tired and jaded, 
 
 As through trials we've waded. 
 And walked o'er the rough places in life. 
 
 Both had plenty of sorrow. 
 
 No occasion to borrow; 
 We have each been bereft of a wife. 
 
 While he's gifted in story. 
 
 And verse is my glory. 
 Perhaps each in his way is excelling. 
 
 It is right, you'll agree, 
 
 That each person should be 
 Improving his gift in his calling. 
 
 To Uncle Charley and I 
 
 The time's drawing nigh; 
 The last ebbing days of life's span. 
 
 Each has walked three-score years 
 
 In this life's vale of tears; 
 The full term that's allowed unto man. 
 
 Rather welcome death's reign 
 
 Than take over again 
 All these steps of the journey of life. 
 
 We have both many friends, 
 
 And when life's journey ends. 
 We shall rest from its turmoil and strife. 
 
 Little odds 'bout our feet, 
 
 Or the rebuffs we meet. 
 Or how we come up on life's stage. 
 
 The account we must give 
 
 Will be. How did we live? 
 What's the example we've set for our age? 
 
 Have we made our paths straight, — 
 
 Walked the road to that gate 
 Which leads to the Kingdom of Heaven? 
 
 Have we striven by grace 
 
 To run patient the race. 
 Been forgiving as we'd be forgiven? 
 
 316 
 
'THE COMING WOMAN." 
 
 Friends, of course, I'll not refuse 
 
 You an item of the news, 
 
 But I 'sposed, of course, you'd heard, 
 
 Or else I'd sent you word, 
 
 'Bout a visit from a cousin. 
 
 Just one out of a dozen. 
 
 Com'd dress't up, don't you 'spose! 
 
 Wear'd shoes with pointed toes! 
 
 You've heard that she was comin', — 
 Heard of the comin' woman? 
 Well, yes; I 'sposed you had. 
 And 'sposed you would be glad, 
 Since she is our relation. 
 Belongs to this whole nation. 
 Well, she's poked in her long nose, 
 Wears shoes with pointed toes. 
 
 Yes, the comin' woman's come. 
 And gone off on a bum. 
 But she came in from the West, 
 And, sir, she's up and dress't. 
 Yes, sir, she's a wearing clothes. 
 And dress't up, don't you 'spose? 
 Yes, wearing stylish clothes. 
 And shoes with pointed toes. 
 
 I 'sposed from what I'd heard, 
 She'd be nude, like a young bird. 
 'Sposed we'd see a horrid beast. 
 From somewhere 'way down East!* 
 'Stead of coming from the West, 
 All fixed up in her best, 
 A-wearing handsome clothes. 
 And shoes with pointed toes. 
 
 She'd come straggling, like a fright 
 ('Stead of riding on her bike), 
 But, sir, 'tis not a hoax, 
 She's looking just like folks! 
 She came to us last night. 
 Sitting straight up on her bike; 
 Came in a-wearing clothes. 
 And shoes with pointed toes. 
 
 And, sir, as sure as fate. 
 The man has missed his mate, 
 And he's after her, I 'spose. 
 For he's poking up his nose. 
 Yes, he's coming close behind, 
 And is sure his match to find. 
 He's struck on them fine clothes, 
 And shoes with pointed toes. 
 
 317 
 
Yes, sir, I guessed it right, 
 For the man is now in sight. 
 Yes, he's coming on a strike, 
 And he'll overtake her bike. 
 He runs up by her side, 
 And asks her may he ride 
 With her and her fine clothes. 
 And shoes with pointed toes. 
 
 She said, "If you're inclined. 
 
 You may get on behind; 
 
 I'll help you to get on!" 
 
 He did, and both are gone. 
 
 Of course she took the lead, 
 
 And he followed her, take heed. 
 
 With his arms around her fine clothes. 
 
 Both skipt, but, where? Who knows? 
 
 Since the coming wom.an's come, 
 Now the folks are "singing dumb"! 
 But the question now is vext, 
 "What will be coming next?" 
 For no one ever guessed 
 That the woman would be dressed; 
 That she'd come in wearing clothes, 
 And shoes with pointed toes. 
 
 Folks ask, "What next is coming?" 
 Say, it cannot be the woman 
 (Since she has come and skipt). 
 Perhaps 'tis nondescript. 
 Some folks conjecture, maybe. 
 That the coming thing's a baby, 
 That 'twill come up wearing clothes. 
 And shoes with pointed toes. 
 
 That she'll play on the pianna. 
 That, perhaps, we'll call her Hannah. 
 She'll go wheeling through the land 
 With curling iron in hand. 
 Some silly air be humming, 
 As she goes around a-bumming. 
 And a-wearing stylish clothes. 
 And those shoes with pointed toes. 
 
 But there's some presage or omen 
 That she'll be the coming woman; 
 Go 'round a-making calls 
 And lecturing in halls; 
 That she'll have an education, 
 Be an honor to our nation; 
 Go wearing decent clothes, — 
 Take her man along, who knows? 
 
 318 
 
Of course she will be kind, 
 Let the man ride on behind. 
 'Twill be but little bother 
 To act just like her mother. 
 As she comes to fill her place, 
 She'll adopt her mother's ways. 
 She'll come in wearing clothes, 
 And shoes with pointed toes. 
 
 But, of course, she'll be improving. 
 As she goes about a-roving. 
 Folks will talk about her coming; 
 Call her the "coming woman." 
 While she's nothing but a girl. 
 And just begins to whirl 
 About in her fine clothes 
 And shoes with pointed toes. 
 
 Whatever folks are doing. 
 She'll be coming and a-going. 
 For she's never on a stay, 
 But always on her way. 
 Be the girl and coming woman 
 (Or else come and go a-bummin'), 
 But always wearing clothes 
 And shoes with pointed toes. 
 
 MY WRITIN' MASHEEN. 
 
 This from the Mizpah Message: Mr. Walter 
 J. Potter, on receiving a typewritten letter 
 from his father, wrote him inquiring who was 
 doing his writing for him. And received the 
 following in reply as an answer to his question: 
 
 Yu axt hoo woz a-runnin mi ritin masheen. 
 
 Y it's runnin itself, it R plane 2 B seen, 
 
 Eye jist set it on a table, a stand or a shelf, 
 Put mi fingers on the keys an it runs itself. 
 
 Jist as sune's eye B gin 2 fumble the keys, 
 
 Y it rites itself, an it does it with eeze; 
 An it rites jist as plane as 1, 2, 3, 
 
 Only stammers when it sez it's aaA, bbB, ccC. 
 
 Oltho when eye furst seed mi Lambert, eye sed 
 There wozen't a grane uv cents in its hed, 
 But az sune az eye kommenst 2 make mistakes 
 & seed how it chuckles, how its hed it shakes; 
 
 Eye sed, "Its the cutest thing that ever eye C," 
 Whot tho it woz a-pokin its fun all at me, 
 An when eye seed it a-ritin, eye sed, 
 "There's a-plenty uv cents in mi Lambert's 
 hed." 
 
 319 
 
Eye bot this masheen fer 2 rite mi letters, 
 An it duz it well, tho it sumtimes stutters. 
 Now, sens eye hav told U this much, U kin C 
 Hoo it iz whot iz duin my ritin fer me. 
 
 'Tiz mi Lambert masheen, which eye bot in 
 
 town, 
 Whot ketches mi thots an is a ritin em down. 
 U C, jist as sune az the thing's on a shelf 
 An ey'm a techin the keys, it's a ritin itself. 
 
 Tho I have 2 wotch or 'twill make me bother, 
 Koz it sumtimes runs 2 wirds 2 gether. 
 Tho it sumtim.es stutters, as eye woz a-tellin, 
 Yit mi ritin masheen R O. K. at spellin. 
 
 It R "jack-in-a-pinch," as U often hav hurd, 
 Fer mi hands R so shaky eye kan't write a 
 
 word 
 With pensle or pen, it R plane to B seen, 
 So I've words of praze fer me ritin masheen. 
 
 Perhaps when I tell whot it kost U will laff. 
 
 Wei, it kost jist twenty 1 dolers & a haff. 
 
 But sens eye kin rite with it, but kooden't 
 
 without it, 
 It R a blesin 2 me, an no 1 kin dout it. 
 
 I'm a helpin it rite, am a duin mi best, 
 Tho it's a-makin uv me the but uv a jest. 
 Eye kin bare the insults uv mi Lambert, U C, 
 Bekoz it's a duin mi ritin fer me. 
 
 An it helps me along with mi riting so nise, 
 Eye wooden't B without it fer twice its price. 
 Koz now eye kin rite 2 mi children & phrens, 
 & U kin C whot kumfert ontu me it sens. 
 
 Tho it niddles & noddles & kuts up a caper. 
 Makes many mistakes & spiles sum paper. 
 Eye stil keep it on the stand or the shelf, 
 B koz it's a duin mi ritin itself. 
 
 Eye thot eye wood write U sum eytums B 4, 
 Soze U wooden't B axin about it no more. 
 An ive maid it az plane as yer a, b, c, 
 Tiz mi Lambert whot R duin mi riting fer me. 
 
 Tho sum don't keer a snap whot tha ete, 
 & sum wood suner hav garbage than mete. 
 Yit most peeple, U kno, R tasty & nise, 
 & ete nuthin onless it R kivered with spise. 
 
 Eye reed the message an think it R nise 
 An mebby U kin sprinkle this in fer spise; 
 But if not, U kin keep these verses fer fun, 
 An soze U wil kno how mi riting R dun. 
 
 320 
 
Now, this ritin R dun bi mi Lambert & me, 
 An how wel we hav dun it, yerself U kin C. 
 If U want it dun beter'n wev dun on the shelf, 
 U kin git up on yer ere & kin du it yerself. 
 
 THE PETRIFIED WOMAN. 
 
 This refers to the marriage of Mr. Emerson 
 Stone to Miss Elsie Chadwick. 
 
 There's a tragedy, friends, if folks haven't lied; 
 Miss Elsie Chadwick has been petrified. 
 They say that Miss Elsie is now a stone, 
 That Emerson this cruel work has done. 
 
 That he worked on her head, then worked on 
 
 her heart. 
 On her body and limbs and on every part. 
 While Emerson was playing his tragical game, 
 They say that he changed and hardened her 
 
 name. 
 
 While others declare that Elsie was bent 
 On being a stone, that she gave her consent. 
 While some blame that preacher, the Rev. 
 
 Scott, 
 Say he turned her to Stone while tying the 
 
 knot. 
 
 Scott says he just tied the two into one;,. 
 Says that Elsie is it, and that it is a Stone'. 
 Now, I cannot tell which one is to blame. 
 But I suppose they all had a hand in the game. 
 
 I congratulate each and wish them good cheer, 
 May they walk hand in hand for many a year! 
 When the journey of life, with its toiling is 
 
 o'er. 
 May each have a home on the heavenly shore. 
 
 The bride asked me for a poetical contribu- 
 tion. — The Author. 
 
 (21) 321 
 
N. B. BARLOW PRINTING CO. 
 
 N. B. Barlow Printing Co., Chicago, 111.: 
 
 Sirs:— Please excuse my writing you in re- 
 gard to printing my manuscript. You were 
 recommended to me over a year ago by the 
 New Voice Publishing Company, and I, of 
 course, supposed that you were English print- 
 ers; but, imagine my surprise and chagrin, 
 when I received an answer in an Oriental 
 or foreign language; or whatever it was, 
 there was nothing that I could read. 
 I had to exclaim, "Jee-whiz! 
 What a world this is! 
 All a deception and a fiz! 
 And so the Voice I must quiz. 
 Who would have believed 
 The New Voice would have deceived,— 
 And my spirit so grieved? 
 Who trusted it so and in it believed. 
 It beats the whole creation, 
 And my second wife's relation. 
 They came round with such palaver 
 That I decided not to have her, 
 So she's running farrow still 
 And I suppose she always will. 
 The Chinese language is dead to me, 
 And just the same the Japanese, 
 I cannot tell in which ycu wrote, 
 And so, you see, I'm in a boat. 
 English alone I understand, 
 No other speech can I command. 
 The scribbling way in which you wrote, 
 'Twas that which put me in a boat. 
 An amanuensis you should choose. 
 Or else should ask me to excuse, 
 I hardly think you would refuse. 
 Nor that you meant me to abuse. 
 My job is gone, you've lost it quite. 
 Because in English you don't write; 
 Your writing I don't understand. 
 And so must take the parting hand. 
 I'll now be trudging on my way, 
 To N. B. Barlow bid good-day; 
 But I have it still in my mind 
 That an English printer I must find. 
 Yours truly, 
 
 G. D. POTTER. 
 
 322 
 
HUTCHINSON SUNDAY BASEBALL. 
 
 This was written for the Hutchinson Inde- 
 pendent Times: 
 
 If we have rightly been informed, 
 The city's morals have been stormed. 
 That the officials did keep still 
 Makes civil people feel a chill. 
 What are laws good for, anyhow, 
 When the officials break their vow? 
 That it's much better all around, 
 Where law and order does abound. 
 All civil people will allow. 
 
 It seems the rabble of the town 
 Rose up to trample order down; 
 Some legal man (no sand in craw) 
 Advised the boys to break the law; 
 Said, "Go ahead and play the game! 
 I'll see you through it, just the same." 
 Threw back his head, with loud guffaw, 
 "Who cares a snap for civil law?" 
 You'll guess the pettifogger's name. 
 
 Officials sworn to keep the law 
 (Nor lift a hand, nor wag a jaw! 
 While lawless crowds the laws defy); 
 They stultify themselves and lie! 
 
 They've given lawlessness a boost, — 
 Their chickens will come home to roost. 
 Our Savior told us long ago 
 That we must reap the kind we sow. 
 And reason says, " 'Tis right and just." 
 
 Then Hutchinson, in harvest time, 
 Will surely reap a crop of crime. 
 Who sows his lot to evil deeds 
 Will only reap a crop of weeds. 
 Some silly people think they can 
 Break all the laws of God and man. 
 And then escape results the same 
 As though they were not in the game; 
 Think to escape, but never can. 
 
 Another thing that's looking worse, 
 A man with money in his purse. 
 Wagging his tongue and lantern jaw, 
 Advised the boys to break the law. 
 "If into court they do bring you, 
 I'm with you, boys; I'll see you through." 
 And I suppose he would the same, 
 Although I have not learned his name; 
 'Tis sure that he was in it, too. 
 
There was someone, they tell us, though, 
 Whose hands are often in the dough. 
 They say she did herself quite proud, 
 Confronting that great lawless crowd. 
 Possessing zeal and courage great. 
 Which no man in the town can mate; 
 Armed with Stars and Stripes and law, 
 Thinking the rabble crowd to awe; 
 Our heroine is Lilly Slaight. 
 
 Though while in size our Lilly Slaight 
 
 Will hardly score a heavy weight, 
 
 She rises up and puts to shame 
 
 Big men with high official name. 
 
 Who wag their tongues and hairy jaws, 
 
 Advising folks to break the lav\7s, — 
 
 Such counsel civil people hate. 
 
 And shout "Hurrah for Lilly Slaight! 
 
 A champion of our civil laws!" 
 
 A change of rulers you must hjave 
 (If the credit of your town you'd save) ; 
 Men who regard the cath they take. 
 Support the laws of sovereign state; 
 Want officers which pains will take 
 To keep their oath, for conscience' sake. 
 Who'll face the fire and do them proud, 
 And hold in check the lawless crowd; 
 Some note of civic order take. 
 
 Six days the laws doth give to m.an. 
 
 In which to work and play and plan; 
 
 This is the law of God and man. 
 
 And all should keep the laws who can. 
 
 Those laws reserve one day of seven 
 
 To cease our works and worship heaven. 
 
 The law a lavish deed hath done! 
 
 (Reserving to the Lord but one) 
 
 Rogues steal the one reserved for heaven! 
 
 Men sworn and paid to keep the laws 
 Now plead the lawless rabble's cause. 
 If thieves should steal the mayor's coat. 
 They'd find themselves in leaky boat. 
 The mayor'd cry out, "Stop the thief!" 
 Would stop him, too; that's my belief. 
 He'll get his coat back, if he can, 
 And punish the offending man. 
 Say, "He stole from me! the devilish thief!' 
 
 324 
 
'Gainst sumptuary laws they'll prate 
 And tell hov/ all such laws they hate. 
 In their own eyes they are quite good, 
 Would have us think so, if they could; 
 But while they prate (please make a note), 
 Themselves are in a leaky boat. 
 By ridicule they show their hate 
 Against the zeal of Lilly Slaight, 
 Who'd rescue Christ's one Sunday coat. 
 
 In summing up the whole result, 
 We'll see just who was in the fault. 
 Brave Lilly struck the culprit's track 
 And strove to get the one coat back. 
 
 To civil law he showed his hate 
 (You see, his insolence is great), 
 He jeered at Lilly, told her nix 
 (Altho before that he had six). 
 He snubbed the law and Lilly Slaight. 
 
 'Tis time my parable to close. 
 And stop my rhyming, I suppose; 
 To lawlessness I've shown my hate. 
 Respect for law, and Lilly Slaight! 
 
 STRICTURES ON THE RAM'S HORN. 
 
 But who is Sylphen, of whom you speak. 
 With so much gall and brass in his cheek? 
 Who is making a noise outside of the city; 
 This outside saint, who is making complaint 
 Against God's people; and has he no pity? 
 What cheer does he bring, and what does he 
 seek? 
 
 And is this worldling presuming to stand 
 Betwixt the deep sea and the old solid land. 
 Without a foundation, building on sand? 
 Is it Ishmael of old, mocking God's saints? 
 Why not come inside to make his complaint, 
 Or is he afraid of religion's restraint? 
 
 325 
 
He's a shrewd business man in the world, say 
 
 you; 
 So was Judas that kind of a IJusiness man, too. 
 But he made a bad bargain, that's what he 
 
 did do. 
 Each person will find at length his own level, 
 But you say he has faith; so has the devil, 
 And yet his is up to all kinds of evil. 
 
 He objects to our financial system, no doubt; 
 And there is where Judas' trouble broke out. 
 Thus indignation was scattered about. 
 He sees, from outside, the church and its sin. 
 But he is too good and too shrewd to come in. 
 That won't stand the test; the stuff is too thin! 
 
 Like a dog, round the city, is he making a 
 
 noise. 
 Smirching the church; making sport for the 
 
 boys. 
 The kind of a thing that the devil enjoys. 
 But can this Sylphen you speak of expect 
 That he can deceive the very elect? 
 Or that the Church of God can ever be 
 
 wrecked? 
 
 Oh, no! 'tis to fill worldly minds with doubt. 
 To hinder those entering and keep them out. 
 He cannot expect true Christians to rout, — 
 He will show us things as we see them, you 
 
 say? 
 Well, then, we don't need him; just send him 
 
 away. 
 We shall see them the same as tho he did stay. 
 
 'Twill be read by people with interest, you 
 
 think. 
 Perhaps so, by people who live on a stink. 
 Some folks will feast on a weasel or mink. 
 Some folks feast on the sins of God's people; 
 Feast their souls on carrion beneath the 
 
 steeple; 
 The kind of a feast Satan makes for his people. 
 
 Will you be a cat's-paw for this cunning old 
 ape? 
 
 Take up his reproaches and lick them in 
 shape? 
 
 An outside Christian is most surely a fake. 
 
 It makes all the difference there is in the world 
 
 Against which city your missiles are hurled; 
 
 In support of what cause is your banner un- 
 furled? 
 
 326 
 
Is it Jerusalem or Jericho you are marching 
 
 around? 
 Against whose walls does your Ram's Horn 
 
 sound? 
 Beneath whose banner do you wish to be 
 
 found? 
 Say, who is your Captain? Tell who is your 
 
 King? 
 To what shrine or what altar your incense 
 
 bring? 
 Say, what is your song, and whose praise do 
 
 you sing? 
 
 I have met in my life many such fellows, — 
 'Tis outside of the yard that the mad bull bel- 
 lows. 
 This fault-finding Sylphen, I scarce have a 
 
 doubt, 
 Were he inside the church, would soon be 
 
 kicked out. 
 Our people are asking us who, then, is this, 
 Who comes to the church with a Judas kiss, 
 And who gives it a stab with a serpent's hiss? 
 
 If born of the Spirit, the church is his mother, 
 To her sons and daughters he'll be a brother, 
 The hypocrite fumbles the Eve of another. 
 Will the lame teach us how more graceful to 
 
 walk? 
 Must we go to the dumb to learn how to talk? 
 Use charcoal to make a miark white, like 
 
 chalk? 
 
 Will the blind show the tints of the beautiful 
 
 bow? 
 To the dumb to learn of sweet sounds must 
 
 we go? 
 To the dead to learn how to breathe? You'll 
 
 say, No! 
 While this saint cf the world is m.aking a bluff, 
 Why will you consent to peddle his stuff, 
 And help him to handle God's people so rough? 
 
 Now, this is the reason I am. asking you why; 
 Between God and his Eaint the relation is nigh; 
 He v/ho tcucheth them toucheth the apple of 
 
 His eye. 
 Suppose that he poses as a very wise sage. 
 To take up the offering puts him in a rage. 
 'Tis why he is out of the church, I'll engage. 
 
 327 
 
The waste of the ointment he may think is a 
 
 sin, 
 Because the money don't jingle for him. 
 He would have his money-bag filled to the 
 
 brim. ! 
 If Sylphen loves God, then why does he prate? 
 And why 'gainst his church is his spleen so 
 
 great? 
 Most surely he loves, or else he doth hate. 
 Whoever loves God will love Christians, too. 
 Use His love as a mantle to cover them, too. 
 That is what love will prompt him to do. 
 
 When Saul stood outside he breathed out 
 
 slaughter 
 Against disciples, man or womian, son or 
 
 daughter, 
 And thought he was doing just as he ought to. 
 But when he met Christ and saw his own sin 
 He vent to the church and tried to get in; 
 And it is still so today as it ever has been. 
 
 I have met v/ith noisy dogs by the score, 
 That would stand outside, to lick a saint's sore, 
 But I never have heard of Sylphen before; 
 And doesn't he know that the church has a 
 
 dcor? 
 Perhaps he has made his exit from it, 
 And returned, like a dog, to lick up his vomit. 
 
 But who is Sylphen? I will ask you again, 
 Who is watching the church to find its sin, 
 And who finds it so smutty that he cannot 
 
 com.e in? 
 Say! Why does he bark at Christians so loud, 
 While he stands v/ith the outside rabble, the 
 
 crowd, 
 With blasphemous skeptics, the lewd and the 
 
 proud? 
 
 Perhaps you and he think you have found 
 A very small patch of neutral ground; 
 Where he can sling his aversions around, 
 Betwixt the devil and the deeD, deep sea. 
 Where he can act irresponsibly free; 
 But there's no such place, nor ever can be. 
 
 He is making his chance of fellowship slim, 
 It com.es, it seems, with a bad grace from him. 
 To find fault with us, and he in the world's 
 
 swim. 
 It is easy encugh for us to see through it, 
 Must be out of sorts with the church or he'd 
 
 not do it; 
 He is needing salvation; that is all there is 
 
 to it. 
 
 328 
 
Sylphen, for Shimei will make a grand mate, 
 Whose heart was filled with such bitter hate; 
 Whose cursing came down on his own hairy 
 
 pate. 
 Tho he cursed as he ran along the hillside, 
 Threw stones at the people, their King did 
 
 deride ; 
 'Twas thus that the hosts of the Lord he de- 
 fied. 
 
 Will the Ram's Horn help Sylphen to scatter 
 
 his dust 
 And the stones he throws? Do you think that 
 
 you must? 
 Remember our motto: " 'Tis in God that we 
 
 trust." 
 A giant Philistine defies Israel, 'tis said. 
 But David, the stripling, will take off his head, 
 And stand on his carcass, and shout when he's 
 
 dead! 
 
 Now, up pops Sylphen, lookine: foolishly wise. 
 Fingers and thumbs in church people's eyes. 
 Fumbling for motes, which he esteems as a 
 
 prize. 
 While the Ram's Horn prologues his deeds to 
 
 the skies. 
 
 Perhaps he's exalting his hero for fun, 
 Just a-trolling out line, to give him. his run; 
 Well knowing that he is Belial's own son. 
 This is my critic; I will send it to you, 
 And with it I send my compliments, too; 
 So, now, Mr. Ram's Horn, I will bid you adieu! 
 
 329 
 
THE MUSKEETER. 
 
 Has that horrible creature, 
 That frightful man-eater, 
 That old bloodthirsty beast, 
 Come around you for a feast? 
 Have you ever seen or heard, 
 Or your anger e'er been stir'd 
 By that voluptuous creature, 
 The carniverous Muskeeter? 
 
 Should he come around you buzzin' 
 Whispering wants a cozzen, 
 Just let it be understood 
 That beast is after blood. 
 For a swindler, sure is he; 
 You can prove that fact by me. 
 That beast, that horrid creature. 
 Is a real humian-eater. 
 
 You hear the brute sing? 'Nuff said; 
 Get right after him, Ed, 
 With your revolver and gun; 
 Strip your coat off and run. 
 Engage in battle for life! 
 Help your partner, your wife! 
 You'll have lots of fun 
 Fighting that old Muskeeter. 
 
 Just listen to me now, Ed, 
 
 If you would kill the brute dead; 
 
 Don't start in just for a spurt; 
 
 That way you can do him no hurt; 
 
 But go in to fight for life; 
 
 Join the brigade! with your wife. 
 
 Don't let that varmint eat her. 
 
 But help her to smudge the 'skeeter. 
 
 Don't strike and then run away — 
 That is only children's play! 
 If you wish this beast to hurt, 
 Strip off your socks and shirt. 
 For, if you just lightly slap — 
 Just give him tip for tap. 
 He'll just as like as not 
 Bite you in another spot; 
 The pesky old Muskeeter. 
 
 330 
 
If you'll take my advice, 
 Don't strike just once or twice, 
 Nor stand and let him bite, — 
 Go for him day and night! 
 Go now, and help your wife, 
 She is in a dreadful strife. 
 You will need a self -repeater 
 To help dispatch that 'skeeter. 
 
 And when you've killed him dead, , 
 
 Pulled off his legs and head, 
 
 The first warm cloudy night 
 
 That 'skeeter'll howl and bite. 
 
 Nine lives, just like a cat, . 
 
 He has; and more than that; 
 
 And a very hearty eater 
 
 Is this pesky old Muskeeter. 
 
 Although him you never hired, 
 Tho of him you are tired; 
 He'll be putting in his bill. 
 And that against your will. 
 Now, this is what he'll do, 
 He will howl and bite you, too. 
 A bloodthirsty human-eater 
 Is this carniverous 'skeeter. 
 
 Don't trust him with your wife, 
 No; do not for your life. 
 For he's a real trickster, Ed! 
 That's what the folks have said. 
 When you're sitting by your bride 
 He'll slip up by her side 
 And kiss her; bite her, — eat her. 
 The impudent Muskeeter. 
 
 This horrid beast is not afraid, 
 
 He'll tackle any man or maid. 
 
 Tho soft his voice (his looks are mild) 
 
 That beast will bite a Httle child. 
 
 In him compassion has no place; 
 
 He'll bite and blotch a baby's face. 
 
 Yes, a real baby eater 
 
 Is the backwoods Muskeeter. 
 
 If, in the maddened strife. 
 
 He's too much for man and wife; 
 
 If he makes you two much bother. 
 
 To help you, get some other. 
 
 If he proves too much for three. 
 
 Then send post-haste for me; 
 
 I won't let the varmint eat her; 
 
 I have killed a many a 'skeeter. 
 
 331 
 
Judging from the mischief done, 
 That 'skeeter must be more than one. 
 Where'er we go we find him nigh, 
 Himself he seems to multiply. 
 This elf is singing everywhere. 
 Her siren songs now fill the air. 
 This old backwoods muskeeter 
 Surely is a self-repeater! 
 
 ADVICE TO FARMERS. 
 
 Reared in cities, trained in schools, 
 Supposing farmers to be fools. 
 The village weekly issues rules. 
 
 The editor, with lofty air. 
 Thinking it a thing quite nice. 
 Offers farmers his advice. 
 And this he does, not cnce or twice. 
 
 To pick the hayseed from their hair. 
 
 He takes it on himself to show 
 
 The farmer how good crops to grov/; 
 
 What kind of seed, and when to sow. 
 
 What kind of stock he ought to keep; 
 Just when and how to feed his swine. 
 That he may keep them looking fine; 
 What kind, and when, to buy his twine; 
 
 And when he ought to shear his sheep. 
 
 When plowing time comes rolling 'round, 
 Instructs him how to plow his ground 
 (His knowledge seems to be profound), 
 
 Tho he has ne'er a furrow ploughed 
 (Wisdom, it seems, was with him born). 
 Tells when to plant and till your corn. 
 If you disobey, he looks forlorn, — 
 
 Still, of his wisdom he seems proud. 
 
 Tells when to keep or sell your wheat, 
 And how to salt and save your meat. 
 His knowledge seems to be complete. 
 
 He knows it all; and something more. 
 He'll tell you, too, the very day 
 That you should mow or stack your hay; 
 Or when it should be mowed away; 
 
 No one was e'er so wise before. 
 
 332 
 
He tells them how to work and thrive; 
 What breed of horses they should drive; 
 And how their honey bees to hive. 
 
 That he knows lots, can't be denied. 
 He tells what kind of coop to build; 
 With breed of fowls it should be filled. 
 How not to let the eggs get chilled— 
 
 And lots of other things beside. 
 
 He often seems disposed to show 
 What kind of garden seeds to sow; 
 How cultivate to make them grow. 
 
 Oh, he is wise beyond degree! 
 The farmer's wife he's glad to show 
 Just how to make the house plants grow, 
 And all the flowering shrubs, you know. 
 
 His wisdom just astonishes me. 
 
 He tells the housewife how to make 
 Her puddings, and her pie, and cake; 
 How much flour, and eggs, and spice to take. 
 
 He tells her how her rugs to spread. 
 It seems that he would never tire 
 Of telling how to start a fire; 
 Or just what kind of help to hire, — 
 
 Or just how long to bake her bread. 
 
 He tells the farm.er's wife, you know, 
 Just how long to set her dough, 
 And how to use the garden hoe. 
 
 He prints it all off plain enough; 
 Just how to sweep and dust the rugs, 
 And how to doctor fleas and bugs. 
 And how to manage tramps and thugs. 
 
 And lots cf other kinds of stuff. 
 
 Tells how the boys and girls to chafm,— 
 To keep at home and out of harm. 
 Tells everything about a farm — 
 
 That he thinks farmers ought to know. 
 Tells farmers' v;ives (and daughters, too), 
 Just how their kitchen work to do. 
 How to crochet, to knit, and sew, 
 
 And how to dress, "to look just so." 
 
 The farmer thinks it would be nice 
 
 To sell his grain at going price. 
 
 The editor gives his advice! 
 
 Proceeds with reason now to show 
 
 That there's a shortage in the crop, 
 
 Price can't g^o dcwn; it must go up. 
 
 He fills the farmer now with hope- 
 Convinces him it is too low. 
 
 333 
 
Some farmers take his bad advice, 
 
 So hold their grain and lose on price. 
 
 And this has happened more than twice. 
 
 May happen with some dupes again. 
 When he has proved himself a fake, 
 Next issue calls it a mistake. 
 Which any other man might make ; 
 
 But farmers' loss is buyers' gain. 
 
 That editor is wondrous wise, 
 
 His wisdom towers toward the skies; 
 
 But slips a cog sometimes and lies. 
 
 And sometimes at the farmers' cost 
 (Tho he himself will sure pretend- 
 To be the hayseed farmers' friend); 
 Advises him almost 'thout end. 
 
 Yet farmers by it often lost. 
 
 Yet week by week he still proceeds 
 
 To tell the farmer what he needs. 
 
 Just what machines, what stock, what breeds, 
 
 What kind of wagon he should run. 
 His barn and sheds how he should build, 
 And how his silos should be filled. 
 And how his rats may all be killed! 
 
 Guesses — and tells him just for fun. 
 
 He must print something. "No excuse," 
 Since farmers pay him for the news. 
 He has to do so; can't refuse; 
 
 Must tell them what is coming next. 
 Must tell the farmer what to do, 
 And the best methods to pursue. 
 Wants them to get a hump on, too. 
 
 So farmers now must not be vext. 
 
 334 
 
THE GOOD TIME IS COMING. 
 
 Nos. 14:21— "But as truly as I live, all the 
 earth shall be filled with the glory of the 
 Lord." 
 
 Psalm 46:9 — "He maketh wars to cease 
 unto the end of the earth. He breaketh the 
 bow and cutteth the spear in sunder. He 
 burneth the chariot in the fire." 
 
 Psalm 72:8 — "He shall have dominion also 
 from sea to sea, and from the river unto the 
 ends of the earth." 
 
 Zechariah 9:10— "And the battle-bow shall 
 be cut off and He shall speak peace to the 
 heathen, and His dominion shall be from sea 
 even to sea, and from the river even to the 
 ends of the earth." 
 
 There's a good time coming, by the prophets 
 
 long foretold. 
 When Zion in her purity the world will then 
 
 behold 
 Her God and King in majesty shall shed on 
 
 her His light: 
 In loveliness and beauty, His church be clad 
 
 in white. 
 
 The good time is coming, seen by holy men of 
 old. 
 
 When men will live like brothers, — one Shep- 
 herd and one fold; 
 
 When Christ shall reign in triumph, from the 
 river to the sea 
 
 And Earth shall hail with gladness her glorious 
 Jubilee. 
 
 The good time is coming when old Satan shall 
 be bound. 
 
 And all shall hear with rapture the gospel's 
 joyful sound; 
 
 When all earth's hills and valleys with halle- 
 lujah ring, / 
 
 And over all the kingdoms, Christ be universal 
 King. 
 
 The good time is coming when bloody war 
 
 shall cease, 
 And all men live together in a universal peace. 
 No more the cry of hunger! no more the curse 
 
 of rum; 
 But love and peace and plenty when the reign 
 
 of Love is come. 
 
 335 
 
The good time is coming, and it is not far 
 away, — 
 
 Lo, see those beams of morning, just breaking 
 into day! 
 
 Then let us pray and labor! let none be idle, 
 dumb, — 
 
 But toiling in His vineyard we'll help His king- 
 dom come. 
 
 The good time is coming, for we labor not in 
 
 vain. 
 Satan shall be vanquished and Christ the Lord 
 
 shall reign. 
 Oh, brothers, then take courage, take faith 
 
 the m.ighty shield; 
 The two-edged Sword and Spirit, — God's 
 
 Word, shall win the field. 
 
 The good time is coming, tho His raiment's 
 
 stained with blood, 
 Christ will conquer all the nations and bring 
 
 them back to God. 
 With our lamps all trimmed and burning and 
 
 walking in the light 
 We will wait for His returning to reign, for 
 
 'tis his right. 
 
 The good time is coming and the Father will 
 
 employ 
 The means he has appointed, all evil to destroy. 
 The gospel leaven, working, will surely bring 
 
 the day 
 When the world shall be enlightened, — wrong 
 
 and error pass away. 
 
 The good time is coming, — for our Advocate 
 
 with God 
 Is pleading now the merit of His own precious 
 
 blood. 
 Christ conquered when He fell, — He triumphed 
 
 when He rose; 
 He spoiled the hosts of hell and trampled on 
 
 His foes. 
 
 The good time is coming, — for cur risen Lord 
 
 has said, 
 "Go tell to all the nations 'He lives who once 
 
 was dead.' " 
 He sends his heralds forth in all the world to 
 
 tell, 
 "He burst the bands of death and spoiled the 
 
 power of hell." 
 
 336 
 
The good time is coming; for his heralds now 
 
 proclaim 
 That God will grant a pardon to believers in 
 
 His name. 
 To all the world His messages of mercy now 
 
 are sent; 
 'Tis God's command to all the world that all 
 
 rren should repent. 
 
 The good time is coming and the day is close 
 at hand, — 
 
 For the nations all give promise to heed the 
 Lord's command. 
 
 The day star now is risen, with luster all di- 
 vine, 
 
 Sure token of the rising sun which everywhere 
 Shall shine. 
 
 The good time is coming, — let us testify and 
 
 pray 
 'Till He ushers in the glory of the millennial 
 
 day, 
 When earth with all her millions to Jesus bows 
 
 the knee; 
 All nations own their Saviour and shout the 
 
 Jubilee. 
 
 The good time is coming; all the angels round 
 
 the throne 
 Proclaim that all the kingdoms do belong to 
 
 Christ alone. 
 While earth with all her millions joins th' 
 
 angelic songs; 
 Angels and men ascribe the prais|^ to whom 
 
 all praise belongs. 
 
 The good time is coming, the brightest and 
 the best;— 
 
 The seventh trumpeter proclaims the world's 
 Sabbatic rest. 
 
 A thousand years without a war, — the Scrip- 
 tures are quite plain,— 
 
 The old usurper shall be bound, and Christ the 
 Lord shall reign. 
 
 The good time is coming, yes, 'tis com.ing right 
 
 along. 
 His watchmen, all rejoicing, together join the 
 
 song. 
 "Oh! glory hallelujah for the time is drawing 
 
 nigh 
 When the saints of every nation shall all see 
 
 eye to eye." 
 
 237 
 
Yes, the time is coming soon, by prophets long 
 foretold. 
 
 When the Church of God in purity the world 
 will then behold. 
 
 When righteousness shall fill the earth as 
 waters do the sea; 
 
 For God has taught it in His Word and, sure- 
 ly, it must be. 
 
 238 
 
OCT 14 1905