%1 i! IW V>0 1uu H H T 1 OF SAMWELL WILKINS. A COLLECTION OF OKIGINAL POEMS, OPINIONS AND PAKODIES fe3 "3 It)'-?. ^pwm"nions. fragrant onions.'' No flower's pure essence as sweet as they. No fifty-cent odor could longer stay. Voii can smell 'em a couple of blocks away. ( Miions. fragrant onions. 1 wonder how Providence came to invent Onions, fragranl onions. On what dire mission hath nature sent Onions, fragrant onions? It seems too had that an earth so fail- Should nourish and foster with so much care A plant with a smell that will raise your hair- Onions. fragrant onions.' TOBACCO. What power can sanction or can Mess That dirty, filthy eussedness? What demon, for a fiendish joke. First tauffhl mankind to chew and smoke? \^(^m^t£\ /VtiJ&u^^ STOEY OF GOOD LITTLE VINCENT. Young Vincent was a noble boy, His father's pride, his mother's joy. All free from arts and false pretense, A type of guileless innocence. Surely no healthy boy could be More noble, pure and true than he — So thought his proud paternal. Now Vincent was a quiet child, His ways were gentle, manners mild. Ye( sometimes, tired of quiet joys. ire went to play with other hoys. And once or twice this youth sedate Returned to slumber rather late And grieved his kind paternal. The kind paternal loved his son. But when by duty called upon lie emphasized his just commands By literal laying on of hands. So now about the second time That Vincent failed to toe the line The kind paternal said to him. '•My son. I want you to be in " By eight o'clock, for otherwise "I must my little son chastise: •• And such a task, you surely know. " Would hurt your loving papa so." Thus spake the grieved paternal. And noble Vincent said he would. For well he knew he never could Endure to see his papa dear So sadly, deeply grieved. — and here With spotless handkerchief he dries A teardrop from his little eyes. [He loved his kind paternal.] Then all went well a week or so. Till one ill-fated ni<>-ht, when lo! He played a little bit too late, And first he knew 'twas half past eight. lie hesitated home to go, He knew 'twould grieve his papa so, Then took a friend to stay all night — Thought that would help him out all right. The kind paternal, Vincent learned, From down town had not yet returned. So, being tired, he quickly led His friend upstairs, and went to bed. The company was soon asleep, But Vincent didn't slumber deep ; — He thought of his paternal. The kind paternal soon returned. And asked about his son, and learned That he had trespassed as before — Learned merely this and nothing more. lie said, " I'm very grieved to hear •• Of this, for very much I fear • ; That, as a parent good and wise, •■I must my little son chastise; ••And I will make the lesson strong, "So he'll remember deep and long;" — Thus quoth the grieved paternal. The company was sound asleep ; But Vincent didn't slumber deep. He dozed and listened, tossed and dreamed. And as he slept he ever seemed To see his father's troubled look. Then suddenly, all sleep forsook His eyelids, for while tossing there. He heard a footstep on the stair. Now Vincent couldn't bear to see His fond paternal's misery ; So when he heard that heavy tread He quickly bounded out of bed And looked for some secluded spot, And mourned because he found it not. \$cH*?j\<; OF COOT) LITTLE VINCENT. I am half asleep and dreaming Of the fairy shores of light, All oppression absent seeming. I can stay out half the night. But with vigilance eternal 1 await the step paternal On the stair. I am playing, playing, playing, On those fairy shores of light, Through the fragrant clover straying, Always out with hall and kite. But I leave those joys supernal When I hear the step paternal ( )n the stair. T am crawling, gently crawling Underneath my little bed. On the dusty carpet sprawling. Gathering cobwebs with my head. For I think of warmth external, When I hear my grieved paternal On the stair. vSW^^ WdAt*^ 1:1 I am quiet, very quiet, And my heart is full of love. As I listen to the riot On the downy couch above. I've a sinking void internal When T hear that step paternal On the stair. TWO DIFFERENT CASES. Home they brought him, slain with spears. They brought him heme at even-tall. All alone she sits and hears Echoes in his empty hall. Sounding on the morrow. The sun peeped in from open held. The boy began to leap and prance, Rode upon his father's lance Beat upon his father's shield — • Oh. hush, my joy, my sorrow.'' — .1. Tennyt Home they brought him on a dray. They brought him home at even-tide. They said he'd fainted dead away. His loving helpmate knew they lied — •'I'll lix him, gents, I thank you." The son peeped in and saw his pa. Unconscious there with features swelled. His symyathies in tears up-welled — He taints a good deal, don't he. ma?" " Oh, hush, or 1 will spank you." • — S. Wilkins. 14 w^^^J^>fej^>7-tn^ MOONLIGHT'S CHARM. Boys, Were you ever more embarrassed, Did you ever feel so small — Ever feel so awful sorry That you started out at all — Were you ever more disgusted Thau when, in moonlight's charm, You were walking with a lady, And she wouldn't take your arm? We were going to a social, Or to something ol the kind — The particular occasion Has just now escaped my mind — And the lady seemed to view me With a sort of mild alarm When I said, " Miss Tozerboodle, " May I offer you my arm ? " " Oh, no ! " gasped the gentle maiden, That was every word she said. Then with iioth hands in her pockets, She went scudding on ahead. Silently I followed after, In the moonlight's silvery charm, With both ray hands in my pockets, For she wouldn't take my arm. As we marched in dumb procession, Through the shadows dark and drear. She, where' ere the path was darkest Looked to see if I was near. So at last our journey ended. And I'd like to bet a farm That she couldn't give a reason Why she wouldn't take my arm. ySc^t^c^-cM. )yii^un^>. 15 Well, we passed a pleasant evening, Then I had to see her home. And to add to that great pleasure, We were by no means alone. And the rest were laughing at us. Though I know they meant no harm. And the girls looked back and giggled As they took their escorts' arm. Oh! that moonlight eve enchanting, When I followed on behind! Oh! that entertaining maiden. With the strong, well-balanced mind! Boys, if you would e'er be happy. Flee with undisguised alarm — Shun the fairest of Earth's daughters. It she will not take your arm. 1 was never more embarrassed, And I never felt so small — Never felt so awful sorry That I started out at all, Never was I more disgusted Than when, in moonlight's charm, I was walking with a lady. And she wouldn't take my arm. NOT LIVING. Where's the girl you dream of? Where's her simple grace ? Where s her loving nature? Where's her charming face'.-' Where's her form so perfect ? Where's her silken hair? Where's her gentle kindness? Echo answers. •• Where?" ^-^vO &*nt* dlWdAw*^ 23 HALF-WAY. The gentle breezes of summer-time Blew balmy, fresh, and cool. With the beaming, gentle, silvery moon 'Bout halfway to its full. She sat on her horse in the evening's calm. The steed was glossy black. Her curling tresses hung loose and free, 'Bout half-way down her back. The horse's mane was moved by the breeze, And waved so light and free. A squirrel chippered and sassed and chirped 'Bout halt-way up a tree. A youth approached and touched his hat. But not a word he said. He struck at a skeeter and drove Ins nose 'Bout half-way through his head. The maiden toyed with her riding-whip, She hummed a fairy note. With a little chunk of rubber gum Bout half-way down her throat. Just what this jingle is about I guess nobody knows, But anyway Til saw it off 'Bout half-way to its close. 24 ^svLs &<7Cl£& j£co-i^4S THE CATS. See the little nursing eats — Wee, small eats. With their funny little peepers, that are blind as little bats ! How they tumble o'er each other In their little downy nest. With their infant voices feeble. Piping up in feline treble, As they rouse them from their rest. How they cry. cry, cry. Till they find their mamma nigh, Winking with their little peepers, that are blind as little bats. Oh, those funny, wee, small, squinting. tumbling, little nursing eats. Those exceedingly peculiar little cats ! See the playful, half grown cats — Lively cats! How the}' cuff a plaything with their cunning, artful pats ! How they run, and play, and tumble, With a block, or spool, or kill! You would think from all the riot That they never could be quiet, Or could ever rest at all. But you peep, peep, peep, When they're lying fast asleep. In a little furry bundle on the parlor's velvet mats. Oh, those lively, playful, romping, artful, cunning, halt-grown cats ! Those remarkably amusing little cats! ^c^m^-M tydjzu*^ 25 Hear the courting of the eats — Romantic cats ! Filling all the evening with their mournful lovers spats! How they wrangle, plead, and argue In the stilly air of night ! On the woodshed promenading. While the golden stars are fading In the morning's dawning light. As they woo, woo. woo. They are always fighting, too. They salute the dawning morning with their mournful lovers' spats. Oh, those courting, loving, wrangling. pleading, promenading eats! Those sparking, moonlight-eve, romantic cats See the prim, maternal cats — Proper cats. Members of the household and the death of mice and rats. How they sit and lick their whiskers, When with dinner they are through ! How they superintend their kittens, Like the three that lost their mittens, And they discipline them, too. And the}* purr, purr, purr, As they smooth their glossy fur. And they never go out providing "and get into midnight spats. They are members of the household, and are proper, high toned cats, — Are these prim and dignified maternal cats. Hear the pugilistic cats — Thomas cats. How they breathe defiance fn their <>'rim, nocturnal chats! 26 w^^- £ the hill. The pleasure must, it seems to me. be turned to bitter pain, To see your wife still in the ditch, like Xasby's I lannah Jane. There is a class of women who are always just like this — So awful good they make a man feel meaner than he is. No sacrifice too great to make — they're noble, that is plain. But they themselves refuse to rise — like Nasby's Hannah .lane. Such women are too saintly, and their duty over-rate, And while they have our pity, still they do exasperate. No true man wants such sacrifice for his own selfish gain, No true man wants a drudging slave, like Nasby's Hannah Jane CASH. What is it that's not sung in verse, Yet can all sentiment disperse? What is it rules the universe? Cash. What compensates for lack of brains? What covers up the blackest stains And lofty eminence attains? Cash. And if you would a maiden woo. And must competitors outdo, What makes the old gent smile on yon? Cash. But what, although of evil name. And of all rogueish tricks the aim. Is mighty handy, just the same? Cash. 36 ^svCs r strictly moral show ; Then sit around and sweat, and stew, And wait for her to answer you. Go. get as I have go4 ;■ A note, so neat and prim, That ■ Papa thinks that if I go •■ I'd better go with him." Then, of her company bereft. Go tell yourself that you gol left. Go hear, as I have heard. Some pretty damsels say "If. he's too tight to bring a girl. •• He'd better stay away." Then, in a state of mind serene. Go &xi your lonesome dish of cream. Go sit. as I have sot. And watch the crowd perform, Ami see that same girl walk away < »n another fellow's arm ; Then go you home at half past nine. And say yon had a splendid time. Go see. as I have saw. The u'irls don't like your style, liiil don't go off and kill yourself. .lust wait a little while. You might servive a day or two If none of them should smile on you. ^frwrtsv-cXA /Ycijs^i^ 4.") Go think, as J have tliiink. You're not a ladies' man, But if you just behave yourself, And do the best you can. There's a crown tor your labors and peace for your lot, Whether the ladies all love you or not. TWO VERSES. BY TW'o GREAT POETS. Vet. though the ebbing of Time's mighty river Leave our young blossoms to die, Let him roll smooth in his current forever, Till the last pebble is dry. — Olliver Wendell Holmei This little license to roll on forever Is generous, kind, and well meant: Bui Time is quite able to run his own river. A)\d never asked Holmes' consent. — Samwell Jeheb Wilkini 46 *SVL/ £U?CiA~5. SCZot^l^y /GP POE'S RAVEN. How distinctly I remember, late one evening last November. I was sitting on a barrel that the moonlight gloated o'er — Twus an empty cider barrel and was useful now no more — Worthless, now. forevermore. As a few lone stars were blinking, I betook myself to thinking, And I thought of that old raven Edgar Toe has told about — That was quite a high old raven .Mr. Poe has told about. I kept thinking, thinking, thinking, as those stars kept blinking, blinking, And the more 1 thought about it, I was more and more in doubl : Edgar's loeric knocked me out. Ami 1 found no explanation to that curious situation — Here's the lamp upon the table, and the raven on the door, And the lamplight o'er him streaming threw his shadow on the floor. Think of where the lamp was sitting and you cannot help admitting 'I' was an awful crooked shadow to have ever reached the floor. Twas a hump-backed, cross-eyed shadow if it ever saw the floor. StwiwJl yydM^y 47 So I sought a clear solution to that shadow's dire confusion, And my only strong conclusion was thai Edgar had the snakes. I am sure he had been drinking and he must have had the snakes. So perhaps the raven, sitting on the cornice, never flitting, With its fiery eyes a-burning into Edgar's bosom core Was the whiskey he'd been drinking just before he fell to thinking Of his lovely lost Leonore. It was bug-juice, evermore. Or perhaps the maiden, deeming such a fellow too demeaning, Had preferred to share the fortunes of the friends who'd gone before. And had perished, broken-hearted, as fair maids have done before. Maybe he disgraced and slighted till she felt her life was blighted And her lonely soul, benighted, wandered to a fairer shore. .Maybe Edgar's drinking killed her, as it has killed girls before. It was benzine, evermore. (let most anybody frisky on a quart or two of whiskey, And he'd think he saw some shadows, or some ravens, or some floors, And the lamps would get befuddled, and the shadows awful muddled,. 48 ^-^^(y c^Cl^t^. JcZo-iyx^y And he'd sec one " crazy raven perched on forty-' lev en doors ; And he wouldn't know a shutter from a dozen lost Leonores. If is my profound opinion that if Poe had kept dominion O'er his brains and o'er his reason, as they used to be of yore ; — - That if he bad been less frisky and bad guzzled down less whiskey He'd have never seen thai raven on the bust above bis door. \ erv likely that same evening bed been on a bust before. And ffot sober — nevermore. "FUN." There's lots of ways of having fun, Peculiar to the boys That no one else appreciates, And no one else enjoys. There arc lots of little monkeyshines I n which the boys take part, That are not so very awful bad. Nor yet so very smart. vSw^^ yydjL^ 49 A GIDDY GIRL. ( KKVISKD FROM AN OLD READER.) A giddy girl I am indeed, And little do I know. Much mother's care I yet shall need, That I may wiser grow ; If I would ever hope to do Things common, useful, good and true. There's nothing I can do, I know. To earn my daily bread: I can not hake, or sweep, nor sew: And yet I must be fed : But if I try, 1 think I may Learn just a little day by day. 1 think I'd host begin at once To do what good I may. God never meant that such as I Should only live to play, And talk, and laugh, and dress and prink. And dance, and flirt, and never think. I'll just begin this very hour To act upon this plan. What little brains I have to spare, I'll use them while I can. If to learn something thus I try, 1 may be some good by and by. 50 *~s{/L/ C^d^LB. SLZcrv^ds A HUNDRED YEARS FROM NOW I read a little while ago, A piece that made me weep. Some gushing poet thinks we all In darksome graves will sleep: And ne'er will come a gentle hand To smooth our pallid brow. He says there'll nothing be the same A hundred years from now. And in the main I think him right, The world must move ahead. And new-found facts must be brought out And new ideas spread. Progressive science will the world With better thoughts endow. There's little here will be the same A hundred years from now. A hundred years, and all we love Will sleep beneath the sod, And different men, in different ways The paths of life will plod. But if I live until that time And try to milk a cow, She'll kick 7ne over just the same. A hundred years from now. oW*?*^^a yytifzUv*^ . si LITTLE WILLIE. Willie was his mamma's joy. Mamma loved her little hoy. He was gold without alloy — Brave little man. Willie used to go and play, Mamma said how long to stay. More than that he'd never stray — Sweet little land*. Willie played at pitch the knife, Willie used to lead the strife, Couldn't miss to save his life. Brave little man. () tliers for that peg might root With their noses black as soot. Noble fun did Willie suit. Sweet little lamb. What made the boys love Willie s< i ? He was pure as drifted snow While their mugs were black with woe. Brave little man. Willie did the time beguile Calm and peaceful all the while. With his lovely little smile. Sweet little lamb. Oh how pure was Willie's mirth When his friends, of vulgar birth Booted in the rotten earth ! Brave little man. 52 +svL- c^pCU^L^. ^czo~t^L^y Oh how vulgar was their joy, When this lovely little boy Missed, and must his teeth employ, Poor little lamb ! How they howled with fiendish glee As they drove that peg, for he Was so proper nice, you see Brave little man. He was equal, never tear. To the trial little dear Never waved or faltered here. Sweet little lamb. Willie must obey the rule, So went home, so clean and cool. To prepare for Sunday School, Brave little man. While his playmates howled for gore, Raved and cussed, ami ripped and tore Willie lead the Scriptures o'er. Sweet little lamb. NOT PATENTED. There's lots of patent almanacs That claim to speak the truth, Which tell about the patent things To keep the bloom of youth ; But just about the best receipt For keeping human buds, The best and surest Fount of Youth Is good soap suds. A POSSIBLE LOSS. Air of old song-, "When the red, rosy niorn grows bright, love," etc. How often have I wondered if von knew, love. When 'neath the bright and shining stars we've strayed. What an awful sight of cash I've spent on you, love, And eouldn'j: help but wonder if it paid. CHORUS. For if another shineth up to thee. love. And if with him you're happy and content. Then you're all right, hut as for me, love, Oh, where are all the shekels I have spent ? We all will waste a portion of our pearls, love. On whatsoever sport each one enjoys. I much prefer to waste them on the girls, love. To going on a bender with the hoys. CHORUS. But if another buzzeth up to thee. love. And if with him thou'rt happy and content. Then you're all right, hut as for me, love, Oh, where are all the shekels I have spent? A stingy fellow always is a churl, love, I like to see the money flowing free. But why exhaust my income on a girl, love. Until I know she won't go back on me? CHOlilS. For if another smileth upon thee, love, And if with him you're happy and content. Then he's all right, hut as for me, love. Oh. where are all those shekels 1 have spent? 54 i^syis £4?CLaJ5. j£co~i^&. STRAIGHT THROUGH. As life's uneven path we walk, Our weary pilgrimage Is full of sloughs of every sort, From cradle to old age. We should not try to dodge them .all, We're cowards if we do. The only square and manly course Is right straight through. Although we try to live in j^eace, And strive with all our might, We run against disturbances, And then we have to tight. Be ever kind and courteous, Disturbances eschew; Hut when one tries to knock you down Go right straight through. Although we keep with even step The tenure of our way, We all get into tights enough, Be peaceful as we may. There are exceptions to the rule But I tell you The best way out of most of them Is right straight through. * vW<* ^ yydM*^ 55 MY MOTHER'S COOKIES. How dear to this heart is the clear recollec- tion Of Saturday bakings when I was a child! How I watched the proceedings with keenest inspection, And danced round the table in ecstacy wild! But dearer than all the nice things they were making, And watched with the most unaccountable greed, Were the cookies that formed the last part of the baking, — My mother's white cookies with caraway seed; Those white sugar cookies, my mother's best cookies, Those dear little cookies with caraway seed. I remember just how they mixed sugar and butter, Then stirred all the other ingredients in : How the circles were stamped with the tin cookie -cutter When the dough had been rolled till sufficient- ly thin. With how great dispatch was their quality proven ! Their flavor was tried with what wonderful speed When, steaming and fragrant they came from the oven, — My mother's white cookies with caraway seed. Those white sugar cookies, my mother's best cookies, Those dear little cookies with caraway seed. 5G r^yf/ls £j?CtMj^ ^Urtyx^y' ATj The year's hurry onward, and, little no longer, I gave up the pleasure of watching them bake. A tall, awkward school-boy, developing strong- er, To soberer problems of life I awake. But when, after studying all I was able, O'er problems to cipher, and Latin to read. How sweet to come home, and to find on the table A batch of fresh cookies with caraway seed ! Then I sampled those cookies, my mother's best cookies, Those dear little cookies with caraway seed. As toward the great Future the fleet years are speeding, As new thoughts come crowding our minds, thick and fast : The new pictures room in our memories need- ing. The old ones are lost and forgotten at last. But though time may some dear remembrances sever. Though age may the clearness of memory impede, Still they will be fresh in my memory ever. My mother's white cookies with caraway seed. Those white sugar cookies, my mother's best cookies, Those dear little cookies with caraway seed. vSw?^^ yyd/&L*^i BOOK AGENTS NEVER DIE. Book agents never die, E'en though they fade. Thin cheek and falcon eye Deathless were made. What though the summer day Passeth at eve away, Still doth the agent stay Into the night. Book agents never die — Haven't time to rest. Oh, how like sin they lie When they're at their best ' Like childhood's simple rhymes, They come a thousand times. And in all years and climes, Distant and near. Book agents never die — Guess they never will. If in the grave they lie They could not keep still. Many a daisy spring. Many a truthless thing. Still doth the agent sing. Bright to the last. 58 ^SvV C^CL^a J&$**»t*t/l y/dM^^ n But Prigg very promptly responded " Well, Madam, " I was going to show you a neat little game; " Of course you don't know it, " But I will now show it, •I'm a slight -of- hand artist of no little fame. Now, Madam, I'll take this most elegant tea-spoon, And it goes into my pocket, as every one sees, • And now I am able "While still at this table To send this same teaspoon wherever I please. ■Now this is a wonderful, rare exhibition, • But still if you please I will show it to yon. "Now Spirito Venito " Presto tu chango. • You will now find your spoon in that gentleman's shoe." +-^4^ C^Cl^* J&o-l^-^s' THE EDITORS' PICNIC. Battle Creek Moon — July, 1885. Thirty little editors All in town to-day, Thirty pair of little feet On the stony way. Thirty little whistles far. "And the sails loose all their whiteness " Inside the harbor bar." The music was playing in quick, stirring- time, 76 w^t-- £j?Cl^Uz ' SCZa-tsi^, And the fairy had honored a young friend of mine With her hand for the polka, and in the glad host. And the whirlpool of dancers were both them lost From my sight for a moment, then once more they glance In the light of the whirling and dizzying dance. She was talking and laughing the whole of the while, And was beaming upon him her most beaming smile. Then, without any warning, the lovely maid stopped. To her own scanty costume her matchless eyes dropped, And her heavenly smile I shall never forget As ••Golly!'' she said, "Ain't I drippirt with sweat?" My friend, who, dumbfounded, stood glued to the spot, Said he couldn't quite tell, but believed she was not. " Oh Distance, thou fair enchantress ! '•Still hold in the inagie vale "The glory of far-off mountains, "The gleam of the far-off sail!" \^c^m^-ciX >%4^^S . . OFFENSIVE PARTISANSHIP. When a man in the opposite party Is upright, and honest, and square, When he quietly minds his own business, And is accurate, courteous, and fair : When all other charges miscarry And they're dying to hit him a clip. Then they enter that blackest oi charges, Offensive Partisanship. There are often good reasons for lying. It is not a dishonor to steal. In fact if you're always successful It is highly eclat and genteel. There may be excuses for murder The sweet wine of vengeance to sip. But never can anything warrant ( )ffensive Partisanship. In the most of the other offenses. There are ways of escaping the law. There are ways of evading and dodging, And of finding a technical flaw. But although you be sly as Ulysses Never hope you can give them the slip If you're up on that worst of all charges, Offensive Partisanship. Here's Jinkins, he's got a big backing That shows he is tit for some place. It shows how the people all love him. And how he should Perkins displace. 78 « — / v(s C4tCLa2* SCZcrtsi^S Then why should the}" tarry a moment Since Jmkins is ready and flip, And Perkins deserves to he banished For Offensive Partisanship. Then Blinkins thinks he ought to have it For certainly Perkins must go. And Postmaster- General Yilas Is a great friend of Blinkins. you know. () why don't they put him in office. And give Mr. Perkins the slip ? He's forfeited all but his freedow By Offensive Partisanship. Then Dinks, hacked by Congressman Grilkins, Is another quite suitable man, He is rather too modest to push things. But he's doing the best that he can. They are all rather blushing and bashful To keep a good stiff upper lip. But they're all of them many times better Than offensive Partisanship. If you're drunk, you're unlucky, poor fellow } And they'll handle you gently in court. If you lie. it's because you're obliged to; If you steal, it's because you are short. If you murder, of course 3^011 are crazy, But you ought to be hung if you're nipped For that blackest of human outrages — Offensive partisanship. MORAL AND SEQUEL. If you're thinking of making :i |>ot|»ic Of some chicks that von're - to catch. v£w**^ yydfeu^ . 79 Don't invite all your friends in to dinner Till those dear little chickens are hatched. For betweeh the fresh eggs and the potpie There is many and many a slip. Sometimes little chickens get frightened At Offensive Partisanship. THE CUCUMBER. I'm a little cucumber, and don't care a cent Who I am. or where came from. On mischief I'm bent. I'm a hard little cucumber, crooked and green. I'm a tough little cucumber, wicked and mean. You may talk of grim Capital grinding the poor, Or of Anarchy's vengeance so awful and sure. You may talk of the heart-aches — the feelings that gall — 1 can torture humanity worst of them all. Let him try to get out of my grip if he can. But if ever 1 once get a-hold of a man. I can wring him. and twist him till woe is his lot. 1 can tie him all up in a double bow-knot. 80 w SyU CjTCt^t&L j£tO~t^4s I can pucker him up till he crawls on the ground, 1 can jerk him, and yank him, and kick him around, Until he cannot tell from the way that he feels Whether he stands on his head or his heels. I can "-ether him up with a pucker-snatch string. I can double him over, and then \ can wring From the depths of his heart the mosl harrowing moan, — Make him howl bloody -murder, perspire, and groan. You may gather all wickedness man ever ate And you never can find the green cucum- ber's mate; Von may gather all tyrants of whom poets sing. But the little green cucumber always is kinu'. y^&wt^-elX J0 / !' all the creatures that grace this earth. — That the most of us mortals belong by birth To the famous Muggins family. K$t»*m* 1 1 r feelings harden as we plod, For money is the only God Of business. But shall we loose all thought and sight Of what is wrong and what is right? Must all that's lofty and divine Be sacrificed before the shrine < )f business ? While striving for our daily bread Must all our better self be dead? Will not kind Fortune smile as fair If we are human, just and square In business? ^w^e^ yydM*^ 01 ANN ARBOR, I can Bee it all as plainly As if it were only a day Since 1 was oft' for college As verdant as new -mown hay. I rather admired Ann Arbor, As I sauntered along the street : I had passed the examinations And was heavy with self-conceit. 1 was sizing up all the buildings And gazing at all 1 could see. When over the way some students (Jot their eagle eye on me. And 'twas troubling to the spirit And galling t< the flesh The way they stared a moment Then shouted -Ah there, Fresh!" Now I can't tell how they knew me. But certainly it would seem There was something about my make-up That looked most awful green. I was very vexed and annoyed. But I never turned my head, 1 straightened back my shoulders And strutted right ahead. Well, for some weeks 'twas quiet, Then, sounding from afar, There came the heavy thunder Of fast - approaching war. I didn't like the racket And wasn't out much nights, 92 w^£ c^Ci^ta s£zo-t^ds 1 didn't like the rushes And didn't like the fights. I lived in mortal terror For midst that awful din The chance of my escaping Was most extremely thin. And so to save the lay-out For arnica and lint, I wrote a little poem And put it into print. TO '87. Ann Arbor Chronicle. I'm a guileless and innocent Freshman And my troubles have long since commenced. I have gone through with most of the hardships But I haven't been over the fence. I was out at the big game of football. (I'd not gone if I'd had any sense). In the rush I got mashed to a jelly But I haven't been over the fence. I came home from the social in terror. For the howl of those Sophs was immense. I have suffered in anticipation. But I haven't been over the fence. And when'er I go out, of an evening, I'm disturbed with misgivings intense. For I haven't gone through with the programme Till I set lifted over the fence. sSWu^tf yyd4^^ ° 3 Now I want this anxiety ended, And I hope the Sophs wont take offence When I ask, as a brotherly kindness, That they'd soon put me over the fence. Brother, fear not my fists or my muscle. I will not make the slightest defence, But I'll yield to the Sophomores' kindness, And go peacefully over the fence. Come now, generous, kind '87, Do not keep me so long in suspense. Call around on the first pleasant evening And bundle me over the fence. s. w., : 88. Well the stiff-necked generation Of skeptics all deny That prayer is ever answered From the throne of Grace on high. But we'd all l»e in clover, And revelling in bliss If all our prayers were answered As promptly as was this. Over I went before breakfas! In the morning's misty light, Ov true brave a wound admits. Watch your toes and give 'em tits — .Make a note on. Every time you're treated well Make a note on. By ingratitude man fell — Make a note on. Do not judge the motive base If you're helped along apace. Don't think kindness commonplace — Make a note on. Every time you slip or tail. Make a note on. Lamentations won't avail — Make a note on. Tis not the first bad slips we make That hinder what we undertake, But don't repeat (lie same mistake — Make a note on. APPENDIX ETIQUETTE. As no book would be complete without some advice on etiquette, I will offer a few practical rules of behavior for the benefit of an intelligent public. In this age of science, extravagance, and bankruptcy, perhaps no out thing is more neglected than etiquette, un- less it be truth. Etiquette is the science of appearing, on all occasions, perfectly proper, placid, and pleasant. As nobody is that way on . all occasions, the science of eti- quette teaches how to lie most pleasingly. Anybody can [ie_that's easy — hut to lie pleasantly, neatly, and -race- fully requires both study and practice. Many other authors haV e written upon this all - important subject, but if 1 can say anything that is instructive, or that will in any way assist anybody, 1 shall be filling a long felt want. The young people of America are allowed the greatest possible liberty in their social intercourse. It is entirely proper for young gentlemen to make themselves agreeable or disagreeable to the unmarried ladies of their acquaint- ance, and young ladies may. with propriety, accept invita- tions' and receive calls from any young gentleman of good mora] character, or from wealthy young gentlemen anyhow. An English writer has defined etiquette as the "Minor morality of Life," but I cannot see any good reason why 106 s-^Vt e^ti^ta J^ocn^dS adults should not behave themselves as well as minors. Some vulgar people think that all the direction etiquette needs is gentlemanly or landylike instincts and a little com- mon sense. This is, however, an erroneous impression. In the most modern and high-toned society etiquette lias nothing to do with common sense. Introduction is said to be the high road to acquaint- anceship. If this he so, there must be a great many people who jump the fence and go across lots. Such a proceeding- is very improper indeed. I like the Frenchman who sal and watched a man drown because he "had never had ze honour of an introduction to ze zhentleman in ze water." I hate to sec people disregard etiquette, especially in the matter of introductions. I like to see them stand around and gape at each other until somebody happens along to introduce them. In American society the forms of salutation are varied. A favorite way with some gentlemen is to place the right hand on the back of a friend, between the shoulders, in a manner calculated to loosen his store-teeth. This method of salutation is of additional merit as a test of friendship. If the person so saluted does not knock the top of your head off, he is a true friend. Perhaps the most common method of salutation is shaking hands. There are various ways of performing this ceremony. Many gentlemen, in shaking hands, endeavor to press a friend's knuckles through into the palm of his hand. Others get a good firm grip on you and work your shoulder out of joint. Still others poke three fingers at you in a way that makes you feel the same as when somebody dropped a cold raw oyster with vinegar on it down the back of your neck. Shaking hands with a lady i.-> one of the Lost Arts. S(^>m^-M )Yi£jeUv*\ 107 It is very possible that a little instruction on this point might be accepted. In shaking hands with a lady yon want to incline your body slightly forward, and turn you head slightly upward, with a soft and graceful, yet pleading and half timid movement, like a boy climbing a barbed wire fence with a fifty-pound watermelon. Look into her eyes with a pleasant smile. Beam upon her your most winsome beam. Say something you have heard some other idiot say on a similar occasion, and in the meantime shake her hand moderately, but firmly. Circumstances sometimes render it necessary to discon- tinue an acquaintanceship. The process is termed "cutting" an acquaintance. Some acquaintances are a little like board- ing-house steak in this regard. Boarding-house steak that is rare cuts easy, and conversely, boarding house steak that cuts easy is rare, it is about so with acquaintance's, ex- cept that they may be expected to rare when you cut them — that is, if you give them the cut direct. Von never can give boarding-house steak the cut direct, except with a buzz-saw. It is so with some acquaintances. If failing to bow does not cauae your friend to suspect that your feelings for him are not of the fondest, it is polite to say to him '• Huh ? Who are yon?" If this proclamation does not convey to Ids mind a suspicion that you do nol desire to prolong the acquaintance, you had better make laces at him. There are a great many people who behave well in other respects, but who at table remind one of the old conundrum, "What is a little pig doing at the same time that he eats his broth?" "He is making a boa,- of him- self" If by publishing a lew rules tor the table, I can in- duce one man who now wipes his hands on the tablecloth 1 08 *^^s £.M^ 100 exclaim -Don't step on my dress!" as a delicate hint that the gentleman is usually very awkward. A gentleman will assisl a lady to alight from a carriage. He stands by the side of the carriage step and offers the lady his hand. The old way of performing this same ceremony is -even now seen occasionally. By this method the gentleman puts his foot on the wheel and reaches the ground by a sorl of side lunge. He then stands directly in front of the car- riage step and braces his feet, while the lady leans forward from the carriage box. puts her two hands on the gentle- man's two arms, and comes down on him like an Alpine land-slide. This is very startling if you are not accustomed to it. I think that a gentleman ought to he notified when the avalanche is coming, so that he may make good his escape. LEEDLE PIZZLEMIRES. I haff in mine garten von leedle sherry drees. 1 vas blant him by der middle von dot garten als der shpring dimes. Dot dree vas grow, undt plossom, undt der leaves dev look so nice undt green as nefer vas. Aber dose leedle pizzlemires goomes, couple millions full, undt dev Climbs oop dot leedle shtems. undt schews mit dheir nioiidt dose leaves up. Den I says to Katrina: "Dose leedle pizzlemires vas schew oop dot leedle sherry drees. Aber 1 vas got after dem. undt I vill preak dem in peesness oop." Den she says: "You don't can preak dem in peesness oop. Dey vas could tail undt shtart again. Pesides, dey vas couple 110 iSvCs C^CcA^i. JZ^Zo-ts\*£, millions full, mult you v:is only von.'' Den I vas mad. I says : •■ Dot vas slmst all der petter dese voomans reason can. I vas could pusl dose pizzlemires, undt 1 goes right avay undt settles mil dheir hash in. — I vill. py gum!" Den 1 goes undt gets some molasses syrips undt shprinkles him apout sex inches all dot shtems aroumlt. Den I sitz me on der graass undt vaits. Undt pime py goomes von leedle pizzlemires, undt roons dot shtems oop, undt stick-s by dot syrups undt shtops. Den he shqvirms, undt pack's oop undt falls ofer himself, undt sits on his pack' undt gicks mit his heels in der air oop. Und pime py goomes anodder leedle pizzlemires. undt roons dot slilcms oop, undt sees dot syrips, undt shtops. Den he shqvints mit liis eye. undt puts his foot in dot syrips undt eats some. Den lie vinks mit der odder eye undt shmacks his hill undt says it vas goot. Den he denks if a leedle vas goot. dot vas mooch petter ven he gets all ofer in. so he shtands mit his head on. undt keels him ofer into dot syrips, undt shtieks mit Ids pack py dot syrips. undt vaits. Den ^goomes more pizzlemires. 'whole army full, undt tries to roon dot shtems oop, undt some shtieks, undt some shtavs oudt undt eats a leedle, aher dcy don't schew mit dheir moudt dose leaves oop. Den I schmiles, undt schmiles. Den I goes to Katrina undt 1 says : •• I dells you vot dot vas. Ven dose leedle pizzlemires denks dey haft' some schnaps around t mine garten in, den dey vas got der wrong schiekens py.der horn. Hay? Ain't it?" Den she don't say noddings. undt I schmiles me all ofer. Scwri*^ yyUfiw*^ in DOT SARDINES. I vas heard so mooch apout a little fishes vol dese Yankees day gall a sardines. Oh, he vas so nice, undt shlick, undt shveet! Medenks I i>-ot von undt eat me somedings vat vas goot. So I goes mit a shtore in. undt 1 says, "Haf you got a sardines?" undt der teller says. •A viddle shiticks." Undt I says. "Nine, a sardines." Undt he says " 1 vas got no nine sardines, yon vas der piggest sardines I vas seen anyvlieres." Den I says ■■ Nine. Nine. I vant me a sardines — von of dose leedle fishes vat shviins mit der oil in. Hat' you got him?" Den he gets von leedle pox und says •• I there he is." Den \ puis down a haluf a dollar undt he prings pack dhirty cents, undt medenks dot vas a rich fishes. A her 1 dakes him home undt opens him. Yell, ef dot fishes vas t'eelin veil den I nefer vent anyvlieres. lie looks sick undt pillions, shoost like a shmashed vrogs. Medenks he vas gramped by der schtomach in, undt vas died mit der bain. Ach ! he vas got no head, got no tail. He vas a shnides. I dakes him out undt looks him all aroundt at. He was awful dead. Medenks he vas no goot, Pime py I puts him pack mit his coffin in, undt dakes him oudt undt perries him, So he vill shleep so beaceful all der vhiles als der garten in, undt der next dimes I vants a dreats I vill py a codfishes. 112 ■^yf / Ly C^Ci^ta J^Z€rt^u^y MY MIDNIGHT VIGIL. One night I was suddenly awakened from refreshing slumber by the unmistakable music, of rats. [nstinctively 1 sprang from my bed and seized the bootjack. I wenl to the window and looked out. Yes, there were the objects of my wrath — about a dozen cats in the middle of the road fighting their best. I raised the bootjack, but did not throw it. I suddenly became aware of the grandeur and beauty of the scene before me. 1 laid down the bootjack and drew a chair to the window. It was a faultless night. The silvery moon shone bright and clear from out a cloud- less August sky. It flooded the landscape with a mellow light and shone like moulten gold in the glassy lake. Away to the east the dark, leaden waters of Pine Lake lay half hidden between the tali -wooded shores, while to the west stretched away the watery expanse of Lake .Michigan. The cats were silent, and were admiring the land- scape too. Slowly coming through the channel was the iron tug Bob Stevenson, and his heavy breathing was wafted to my ears. A gentle breeze rustled through the tall grass and moved the yielding branches of the trees. It was such a night as only Charlevoix can afford. All was still. Suddenly a window was raised in the next cottage. Then silence again. I meditated. Surely these midnight belligerents remind me of something. Why not of Caesar's campaigns in Gaul? Ah yes. surely. That big black and white one is Csesar himself, only transformed by a strange freak of Buddhism. The big. yellow, ugly looking one is &*w*jtl yyd4^\ 1 13 Ariovistus. He is a bad egg. All the rest form the body- guard of these two. This meeting is the council concern- ing peace. My glance wanders to the next cottage. A human head projects from the window, then it is with- drawn. But see! There are signs of treachery in the council. Ariovistus looks Caesar square in the face and remarks, " Y-y-u-e-o-ow-ow." Then the exercises are re- sumed with vigor. Presently the head and shoulders of a human form in white protrude from the window oppo- site, Ghosts! 7 shiver. But the ghost! What holds he in his firm right hand ? It has the appearance of a double- barreled shot-gun. Ah, Caesar! You are about to he ruined by the great modern invention of gunpowder! There is a disturbance in the council. Caesar has got his hack up, and that always did forebode evil. Click-click. click-click, sounds out clear and sharp on the night air. The village clocks sound out the hour of midnight. All silence. Caesar is preparing for battle, Milites hortantur. The ghost is taking aim. Things are coming to a crisis. 1 tremble with excitement. One instant more, and CEASH ! BANG-!! My very hair loosens at the roots as the ghost discharges both barrels of his gun in quick succession. You can never realize what a terrible, soul-jarring racket a shot-gun can make till you hear it, break the dead silence of midnight. What has become of the council? It is scattered — slightly. But noble Caesar lies stretched at the foot of Pompey's telegraph pole, — dead. Poor, noble Caesar! But yesterday the yeowl of Caesar had been heard throughout the village. Now lies he there, and none so poor to steal his hide. That was the most unkindest shot of all. But the ghost puts down the curtain. Twas not that he loved Caesar less, but that he loved peace more. 1 14 ^-yyl- £ "Fun" ... -48 A Giddy Girl - - - 19 A Hundred Years from Now - - - 50 Little -Willie - - - 51 Not Patented - - 52 A Possible Loss (Parody) - - 53 Straight Through - - 54 My Mother's Cookies (Parody) - - 55 Book Agents Never Die (Parody) - 57 Before Election ... - 58 Kept Blowing - - - 59 Stick To D - - 60 Romance ... - 61 Too Sweet - - 62 Practical Fanning - ... 63 Ode To Hash - - 66 Marks On The Wall 67 Sea -Sick (Parody) - - 68 Gone - - 69 Presto Chan go - - - 70 The Editors' Picnic - - 72 Distance Lends Enchantment - - - - - 73 Offensive Partisanship - - 77 The Cucumber ... ... 79 Little Lessons (Parody) - 81 Onward - - - .- 82 Go Home - -83 The Muggins Family - - 85 Base -Ball - 89 Business - - - 90 Ann Arbor 91 In The Play - 96 123 To- Morrow Between the Dances Make a Note On Appendix— Etiquette Leedle Pizzlemiers Dot Sardines My Midnight Vigil Mathematics The Ladies' Tea The Bangle- Board Index PAGE. - 97 98 - l(K) 105 - 109 111 - 112 II 1 - in; 117 121 ^W^F iil^i^.! /W^^'MP' . M^Kfe ,! ;K III MM . Hill LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 015 762 921 9 '^Mi'lfe iOTTPJ UmMm WmK