/- --" fa - . : ; ^ N '- - , ^, . ^ JA1* - 3 V MTCOMB K: . -,' ~ * 1 THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES POEMS HERE AT HOME rijcr SSoofes b? NEIGHBORLY POEMS. SKETCHES IN PROSE AND OCCASIONAL VERSES. AFTERWHILES. PIPES O 1 PAN (Prose and Verse). RHYMES OF CHILDHOOD. FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT. OLD-FASHIONED ROSES (English Edition). GREEN FIELDS AND RUN NING BROOKS. (SEE PACE 16. POEMS HERE AT HOME BY JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY PICTURES BY E. W. KEMBLE NEW YORK THE CENTURY CO. 1893 Copyright, 1893, by JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY. All Rights Reserved. Copyright, 87, 1888, 1889, 1890, 1891, 1892, 1893, by THE CENTURY Co. THE DEVINNE PRESS. PROEM T7ie Poems here at Home! Who 'II write 'em down, Jes' as they air /;/ Country and in Town? Sowed thick as clods is 'crost the fields and lanes, Er these- ere little hop-toads when it rains! Who 'II " voice " 'em ? as I heerd a feller say 'At speechified on Freedom, t' other day, And soared the Eagle tel, it 'peared to me, She was n't bigger 'n a bumble-beef Who 'II sort 'em out and set 'em down, says I, 'At 's got a stiddy hand enough to try To do 'em jestice 'thout a-foolin' some, And headiri facts off when they want to come ? Who 's got the lovin' eye, and heart, and brain To recko'nize 'at nothin 's made in vain 'At the Good Bein' made the bees and birds And brutes first choice, and us-folks afterwards? What We want, as I sense it, in the line O' poetry is somepin' Yours and Mine Somepin' with live-stock in it, and out-doors. And old crick-bottoms, snags, and sycamores : Putt weeds in pizenvines, and underbresh, As well as johnny-jump-ups, all so fresh And sassy-like ! and groun'-squir'ls, yes, and" We," As sayin' is, " We, Us and Company!" Piitt in old Nature's sermonts, them 's the best, And 'casion'ly hang up a hornets' nest 'At boys 'at 's run away from school can git At handy -like and let 'em tackle it! Let us be wrought on, of a truth, to feel Our proneness fer to hurt more than we heal, In ministratiri to our vain delights Fergittin' even insec's has their rights! No "Ladies' Amaranth" ner " Treasury" book Ner "Night Thoughts," nutherner no " Lally Rook"\ We want some poetry 'at 's to Our taste, Made out o' truck 'at 's jes' a-goin' to waste ' Cause smart folks thinks it 's altogether too Outrageous common 'cept fer me and you! Which goes to argy, all sich poetry Is 'bliged to rest its hopes on You and Me. CONTENTS PAGE PROEM 7 WHEN SHE COMES HOME 15 NOTHIN' TO SAY 16 THE ABSENCE OF LITTLE WESLEY . . . .18 THE USED-TO-BE 21 AT " THE LITERARY " 23 ONE AFTERNOON 30 DOWN TO THE CAPITAL 32 THE POET OF THE FUTURE 38 THE OLD MAN AND JIM 40 THOUGHTS ON THE LATE WAR 44 THE OLD BAND 46 12 CONTENTS PAGE " LAST CHRISTMAS WAS A YEAR AGO "... 50 THE ALL-KIND MOTHER 58 OUR HIRED GIRL 60 THE RAGGEDY MAN 63 COIN' TO THE FAIR 66 GLADNESS . ^ 68 FESSLER'S BEES 72 A LIFE TERM 82 "THE LITTLE MAN IN THE TINSHOP" ... 84 FROM A BALLOON 91 "TRADIN" JOE" 92 UNCLE WILLIAM'S PICTURE 98 THE FISHING-PARTY 100 SQUIRE HAWKINS'S STORY 102 DEAD SELVES 117 IN SWIMMING-TIME I2O SONG OF THE BULLET 123 DEAD, MY LORDS 124 HOME AGAIN ......... 125 A SEA-SONG FROM THE SHORE 126 A BOY'S MOTHER 128 THE RUNAWAY BOY 130 CONTENTS I3 PAGE THE SPOILED CHILD 133 THE KIND OLD MAN . . ..... . 134 THE BOY LIVES ON OUR FARM . . . . 136 THE DooDLE-Bucs's CHARM . . . . . .138 LITTLE COUSIN JASPER . . . . . . 141 GIVE ME THE BABY . . . . . . . 144 THE BEE-BAG 146 LITTLE MARJORIE . . 148 THE TRULY MARVELOUS . ..... 150 'MONGST THE HlLLS O' SOMERSET . . . -151 OLD JOHN HENRY 154 MY FIRST SPECTACLES .156 SCOTTY 158 MY WHITE BREAD 160 BACK FROM TOWN 162 A MAN BY THE NAME OF BOLUS 164 OLD CHUMS 167 WHAT A DEAD MAN SAID 168 CUORED o' SKEERIN 171 YOUR VIOLIN 173 To A SKULL 175 A VISION OF SUMMER 177 4 CONTENTS PAGB BEREAVED . . 183 A SONG OF THE CRUISE . . . . . . 184 THE DEAD WIFE . . . . '.* ' , . 185 SOMEDAY . . .. . . . . . 186 CLOSE THE BOOK 187 WHEN SHE COMES HOME WHEN she comes home again! A thousand ways I fashion, to myself, the tenderness Of my glad welcome : I shall tremble yes ; And touch her, as when first in the old days I touched her girlish hand, nor dared upraise Mine eyes, such was my faint heart's sweet distress. Then silence : and the perfume of her dress : The room will sway a little, and a haze Cloy eyesight soulsight, even for a space; And tears yes ; and the ache here in the throat, To know that I so ill deserve the place Her arms make for me ; and the sobbing note I stay with kisses, ere the tearful face Again is hidden in the old embrace. NOTHIN' TO SAY NOTHIN' to say, my daughter ! Nothin' at all to say ! Gyrls that 's in love, I 've noticed, giner'ly has their way ! Yer mother did, afore you, when her folks objected to me Yit here I am and here you air! and yer mother where is she ? You look lots like yer mother: purty much same in size; And about the same complected ; and favor about the eyes: Like her, too, about livin' here, because she could n't stay; It '11 'most seem like you was dead like her ! but I hain't got nothin' to say ! 16 NOTHIN' TO SAY 17 She left you her little Bible writ yer name acrost the page And left her ear-bobs fer you, ef ever you come of age; I 've alluz kep' 'em and gyuarded 'em, but ef yer goin' away Nothin' to say, my daughter ! Nothin' at all to say ! You don't rickollect her, I reckon ? No ; you was n't a year old then ! And now yer how old air you? W'y, child, not "twenty"! When? And yer nex' birthday 's in Aprile ? and you want to git married that day? I wisht yer mother was livin' ! but I hain't got nothin' to say ! Twenty year ! and as good a gyrl as parent ever found ! There 's a straw ketched onto yer dress there I '11 bresh it off turn round. (Her mother was jest twenty when us two run away.) Nothin' to say, my daughter! Nothin' at all to say! THE ABSENCE OF LITTLE WESLEY SENCE little Wesley went, the place seems all so strange and still W'y, I miss his yell o' " Gran'pap ! " as I 'd miss the whipperwill ! And to think I ust to scold him fer his everlastin' noise, \Vhen I on'y rickollect him as the best o' little boys! I wisht a hunderd times a day 'at he 'd come trompin' in, And all the noise he ever made was twic't as loud ag'in ! It 'u'd seem like some soft music played on some fine insturment, 'Longside o' this loud lonesomeness, sence little Wesley went ! 18 THE ABSENCE OF LITTLE WESLEY ig Of course the clock don't tick no louder than it ust to do Yit now they 's times it 'pears like it 'u'd bu'st itse'f in two ! And let a rooster, suddent-like, crow som'ers clos't around, And seems 's ef, mighty nigh it, it 'u'd lift me off the ground ! And same with all the cattle when they bawl around the bars, In the red o' airly mornin', er the dusk and dew and stars, When the neighbers' boys 'at passes never stop, but jes' go on, A-whistlin' kind o' to theirse'v's sence little Wesley 's gone! And then, o' nights, when Mother 's settin' up on- common late, A-bilin' pears er somepin', and I set and smoke and wait, Tel the moon out through the winder don't look bigger 'n a dime, And things keeps gittin' stiller stiller stiller all the time, 20 THE ABSENCE OF LITTLE WESLEY I 've ketched myse'f a-wishin' like as I dumb on the cheer To wind the clock, as I hev done fer more 'n fifty year A-wishin' 'at the time hed come fer us to go to bed, With our last prayers, and our last tears, sence little Wesley 's dead! THE USED-TO-BE BEYOND the purple, hazy trees Of summer's utmost boundaries ; Beyond the sands beyond the seas Beyond the range of eyes like these, And only in the reach of the Enraptured gaze of Memory, There lies a land, long lost to me, The land of Used-to-be! A land enchanted such as swung In golden seas when sirens clung Along their dripping brinks, and sung To Jason in that mystic tongue That dazed men with its melody O such a land, with such a sea Kissing its shores eternally, Is the fair Used- to-be. A land where music ever girds The air with belts of singing-birds, 22 THE USED-70-BE And sows all sounds with such sweet words, That even in the low of herds A meaning lives so sweet to me, Lost laughter ripples limpidly From lips brimmed over with the glee Of rare old Used-to-be. Lost laughter, and the whistled tunes Of boyhood's mouth of crescent runes, That rounded, through long afternoons, To serenading plenilunes When starlight fell so mistily That, peering up from bended knee, I dreamed 't was bridal drapery Snowed over Used-to-be. O land of love and dreamy thoughts, And shining fields, and shady spots Of coolest, greenest grassy plots, Embossed with wild forget-me-nots! And all ye blooms that longingly Lift your fair faces up to me Out of the past, I kiss in ye The lips of Used-to-be. AT "THE LITERARY" FOLKS in town, I reckon, thinks They git all the fun they air Runnin' loose 'round! but, 'y jinks! We' got fun, and fun to spare, Right out here amongst the ash- And oak- timber ever'where! Some folks else kin cut a dash 'Sides town-people, don't fergit! 'Specially in winter-time, When they 's snow, and roads is fit. In them circumstances I 'm Resig-nated to my lot Which putts me in mind o' what 'S called " The Literary." 24 AT "THE LITERARY" Us folks in the country sees Lots o' fun! Take spellin'-school ; Er ole hoe-down jamborees ; Er revivals ; er ef you '11 Tackle taffy-pullin's you Kin git fun, and quite a few ! Same with huskin's. But all these Kind o' frolics they hain't new By a hunderd year' er two, Cipher on it as you please! But I '11 tell you what I jest Think walks over all the rest Anyway it suits me best, That 's " The Literary." First they started it "'y gee!" Thinks-says-I, "this settle-ment 'S gittin' too high-toned fer me! ;: But when all begin to jine, And I heerd Izory went, I jest kind o' drapped in line, Like you 've seen some sandy, thin, Scrawny shoat putt fer the crick Down some pig-trail through the thick AT "THE LITERARY" 25 Spice-bresh, where the whole drove 's been 'Bout six weeks 'fore he gits in! ' Can't tell nothin'," I-says-ee, ' 'Bout it tel you go and see Their blame ' Literary '!" Very first night I was there I was 'p'inted to be what They call " Critic " so 's a fair And square jedgment could be got On the pieces 'at was read, And on the debate, " Which air Most destructive element, 26 AT "THE LITERARY" Fire er worter ? " Then they hed Compositions on " Content," " Death," and " Botany " ; and Tomps He read one on " Dreenin' swamps " I p'nounced the boss, and said, "So fur, 'at 's the best thing read In yer ' Literary ' ! " AT "THE LITERARY' 2 7 Then they sung some tel I called Order, and got back ag'in In the critic's cheer, and hauled All o' the p'formers in : Mandy Brizendine read one I fergit ; and Doc's was " Thought " ; 28 AT "THE LITERARY" And Sarepty's, hern was " None Air denied 'at^ knocks;" and Daut- Fayette Strawnse's little niece She got up and spoke a piece : Then Izory she read hern " Best thing in the whole concern," I-says-ee ; " now le' 's adjourn This-here ' Literary ' ! " They was some contendin' yit We broke up in harmony. ' Road outside as white as grit, And as slick as slick could be! I 'd fetched 'Zory in my sleigh, And I had a heap to say, AT "THE LITERARY" 29 Drivin' back in fact, I driv 'Way around the old north way, Where the Daubenspeckses live. 'Zory allus 'fore that night Never 'peared to feel jest right In my company. You see, On'y thing on earth saved me Was that " Literary "! ONE AFTERNOON BELOW, cool grasses : over us The maples waver tremulous. A slender overture above, Low breathing as a sigh of love At first, then gradually strong And stronger: 't is the locust's song, Swoln midway to a paean of glee, And lost in silence dwindlingly. Not utter silence; nay, for hid In ghosts of it, the katydid Chirrs a diluted echo of The loveless song he makes us love. The low boughs are drugged heavily With shade; the poem you read to me Is not more gracious than the trill Of birds that twitter as they will. Half consciously, with upturned eyes, I hear your voice I see the skies, Where, o'er bright rifts, the swallows glance Like glad thoughts o'er a countenance; And voices near and far are blent Like sweet chords of some instrument Awakened by the trembling touch Of hands that love it overmuch. Dear heart, let be the book awhile! I want your face I want your smile ! Tell me how gladder now are they Who look on us from heaven to-day. DOWN TO THE CAPITAL I ' BE'N down to the Capital at Washington, D. C., Where Congerss meets and passes on the pensions ort to be Allowed to old one-legged chaps, like me, 'at sence the war Don't wear their pants in pairs at all and yit how proud we are! Old Flukens, from our deestrick, jes' turned in and tuck and made Me stay with him while I was there ; and longer 'at I stayed The more I kep' a-wantin' jes' to kind o' git away, And yit a-feelin' sociabler with Flukens ever' day. DOWN TO THE CAPITAL 33 You see I 'd got the idy and I guess most folks agrees 'At men as rich as him, you know, kin do jes' what they please; A man worth stacks o' money, and a Congerssman and all, And livin' in a buildin' bigger 'n Masonic Hall! Now mind, I 'm not a-faultin' Fluke he made his money square : We both was Forty-niners, and both bu'sted gittin' there ; I weakened and onwindlassed, and he stuck and stayed and made His millions ; don't know what / '; worth untel my pension 's paid. But I was goin' to tell you er a-ruther goin' to try To tell you how he 's livin' now : gas burnin' mighty nigh In ever' room about the house; and all the night, about, Some blame reception goin' on, and money goin' out. 34 DOWN TO THE CAPITAL They 's people there from all the world jes' ever' kind 'at lives, Injuns and all ! and Senaters, and Ripresentatives ; And girls, you know, jes' dressed in gauze and roses, I declare, And even old men shamblin' round and waltzin' with 'em there! And bands a-tootin' circus-tunes, 'way in some other room Jes' chokin' full o' hot-house plants and pinies and perfume ; And fountains, squirtin' stiddy all the time; and statutes, made Out o' puore marble, 'peared-like, sneakin' round there in the shade. And Fluke he coaxed and begged and pled with me to take a hand And sashay in amongst 'em crutch and all, you understand ; But when I said how tired I was, and made fer open air, He follered, and tel five o'clock we set a-talkin' there. DOWN TO THE CAPITAL 35 " My God ! " says he Fluke says to me, " I 'm tireder 'n you; Don't putt up yer tobacker tel you give a man a chew. Set back a leetle furder in the shadder that '11 do; I 'm tireder 'n you, old man; I 'm tireder 'n you. " You see that-air old dome," says he, " humped up ag'inst the sky? It 's grand, first time you see it ; but it changes, by and by, And then it stays jes' thataway jes' anchored high and dry Betwixt the sky up yender and the achin' of yer eye. " Night 's purty ; not so purty, though, as what it ust to be When my first wife was livin'. You remember her ? " says he. I nodded-like, and Fluke went on, " I wonder now ef she Knows where I am and what I am and what I ust to be ? 36 DOWN TO THE CAPITAL " That band in there ! I ust to think 'at music could n't wear A feller out the way it does; but that ain't music there That 's jes' a' imitation, and like ever'thing, I swear, I hear, er see, er tetch, er taste, er tackle anywhere 1 " It 's all jes' artificial, this-ere high-priced life of ours ; The theory, it 's sweet enough, tel it saps down and sours. They 's no home left, ner ties o' home about it. By the powers, The whole thing 's artificialer 'n artificial flowers ! " And all I want, and could lay down and sob fer, is to know The homely things of homely life ; fer instance, jes' to go And set down by the kitchen stove Lord ! that 'u'd rest me so, Jes' set there, like I ust to do, and laugh and joke, you know. DOWN TO THE CAPITAL 37 " Jes' set there, like I ust to do," says Fluke, a-startin' in, Teared-like, to say the whole thing over to his- se'f ag'in; Then stopped and turned, and kind o' coughed, and stooped and fumbled fer Somepin' o' 'nuther in the grass I guess his hand- kercher. Well, sence I 'm back from Washington, where I left Fluke a-still A-leggin' fer me, heart and soul, on that-air pen sion bill, I "ve half-way struck the notion, when I think o' wealth and sich, They 's nothin' much patheticker 'n jes' a-bein' rich ! THE POET OF THE FUTURE O THE Poet of the Future! He will come to us as comes The beauty of the bugle's voice above the roar of drums The beauty of the bugle's voice above the roar and din Of battle-drums that pulse the time the victor marches in. His hands will hold no harp, in sooth ; his lifted brow will bear No coronet of laurel nay, nor symbol anywhere, Save that his palms are brothers to the toiler's at the plow, His face to heaven, and the dew of duty on his brow. He will sing across the meadow, and the woman at the well Will stay the dripping bucket, with a smile ineffable ; 38 THE POET OF THE FUTURE 39 And the children in the orchard will gaze wistfully the way The happy song comes to them, with the fragrance of the hay ; The barn will neigh in answer, and the pasture-lands behind Will chime with bells, and send responsive lowings down the wind ; And all the echoes of the wood will jubilantly call In sweetest mimicry of that one sweetest voice of all. O the Poet of the Future! He will come as man to man, With the honest arm of labor, and the honest face of tan, The honest heart of lowliness, the honest soul of love For human-kind and nature-kind about him and above. His hands will hold no harp, in sooth ; his lifted brow will bear No coronet of laurel nay, nor symbol anywhere, Save that his palms are brothers to the toiler's at the plow, His face to heaven, and the dew of duty on his brow. THE OLD MAN AND JIM OLD man never had much to say 'Ceptin' to Jim, And Jim was the wildest boy he had And the old man jes' wrapped up in him! Never heerd him speak but once Er twice in my life, and first time was When the army broke out, and Jim he went, The old man backin' him, fer three months; An' all 'at I heerd the old man say Was, jes' as we turned to start away, " Well, good-by, Jim : Take keer of yourse'f ! " Teared-like, he was more satisfied Jes' lookirf at Jim And likin' him all to hisse'f-like, see ? 'Cause he was jes' wrapped up in him ! THE OLD MAN AND JIM 41 And over and over I mind the day The old man come and stood round in the way While we was drillin', a-watchin' Jim And down at the deepot a-heerin' him say, "Well, good-by, Jim: Take keer of yourse'f ! " Never was nothin' about the farm Disting'ished Jim; Neighbors all ust to wonder why The old man 'peared wrapped up in him : But when Cap. Biggler he writ back 'At Jim was the bravest boy we had In the whole dern rigiment, white er black, And his fightin' good as his farmin' bad 'At he had led, with a bullet clean Bored through his thigh, and carried the flag Through the bloodiest battle you ever seen, The old man wound up a letter to him 'At Cap. read to us, 'at said: "Tell Jim Good-by, And take keer of hisse'f." 42 THE OLD MAN AND JIM Jim come home jes' long enough To take the whim 'At he 'd like to go back in the calvery And the old man jes' wrapped up in him! Jim 'lowed 'at he 'd had sich luck afore, Guessed he 'd tackle her three years more. And the old man give him a colt he 'd raised, And follered him over to Camp Ben Wade, And laid around fer a week er so, Watchin' Jim on dress-parade Tel finally he rid away, And last he heerd was the old man say, "Well, good-by, Jim: Take keer of yourse'f ! " Tuk the papers, the old man did, A-watchin' fer Jim Fully believin' he 'd make his mark Some way jes' wrapped up in him! And many a time the word 'u'd come 'At stirred him up like the tap of a drum At Petersburg, fer instunce, where Jim rid right into their cannons there, THE OLD MAN AND JIM 43 And tuk 'em, and p'inted 'em t' other way, And socked it home to the boys in gray, As they scooted fer timber, and on and on Jim a lieutenant and one arm gone, And the old man's words in his mind all day, " Well, good-by, Jim : Take keer of yourse'f ! " Think of a private, now, perhaps, We '11 say like Jim, 'At 's dumb clean up to the shoulder-straps And the old man jes' wrapped up in him! Think of him with the war plum' through, And the glorious old Red-White-and-Blue A-laughin' the news down over Jim, And the old man, bendin' over him The surgeon turm'n' away with tears 'At had n't leaked fer years and years, As the hand of the dyin' boy clung to His father's, the old voice in his ears, "Well, good-by, Jim: Take keer of yourse'f! " THOUGHTS ON THE LATE WAR ^ I WAS for Union you, ag'in' it. Tears like, to me, each side was winner, Lookin' at now and all 'at 's in it. Le' 's go to dinner. Le' 's kind o' jes' set down together And do some pardnership forgittin' Talk, say, fer instunce, 'bout the weather, Er somepin' fittin'. The war, you know, 's all done and ended, And ain't changed no p'ints o' the compass; Both North and South the health 's jes' splendid As 'fore the rumpus. The old farms and the old plantations Still ockipies the'r old positions. Le' 's git back to old situations And old ambitions. THOUGHTS ON THE LATE WAR Le' 's let up on this blame', infernal Tongue-lashin' and lap-jacket vauntin', And git back home to the eternal Ca'm we 're a-wantin'. Peace kind o' sort o' suits my diet When women does my cookin' for me. Ther' was n't overly much pie et Durin' the army. 45 THE OLD BAND IT 's mighty good to git back to the old town, shore, Considerin' I 've be'n away twenty year and more. Sence I moved then to Kansas, of course I see a change, A-comin' back, and notice things that 's new to me and strange ; Especially at evening when yer new band-fellers meet, In fancy uniforms and all, and play out on the street . . What 's come of old Bill Lindsey and the saxhorn fellers say ? I want to hear the old band play. 46 THE OLD BAND 47 What 's come of Eastman, and Nat Snow? And where 's War Barnett at ? And Nate and Bony Meek; Bill Hart; Tom Richa'- son and that Air brother of him played the drum as twic't as big as Jim; And old Hi Kerns, the carpenter say, what 's be come o' him? I make no doubt yer new band now 's a competenter band, And plays their music more by note than what they play by hand, And stylisher and grander tunes; but somehow I want to hear the old band play. Sich tunes as " John Brown's Body " and " Sweet Alice," don't you know; And " The Camels is A-comin','' and " John Ander son, my Jo " ; And a dozent others of 'em " Number Nine " and " Number 'Leven " Was i^NQ-rites that fairly made a feller dream o' heaven. 7 THE OLD BAND And when the boys 'u'd saranade, I 've laid so still in bed I 've even heerd the locus'-blossoms droppin' on the shed When " Lily Dale," er " Hazel Dell," had sobbed and died away . . . I want to hear the old band play. THE OLD BAND 49 Yer new band ma'by beats it, but the old band 's what I said It allus 'peared to kind o' chord with somepin' in my head; And, whilse I 'm no musicianer, when my blame' eyes is jes' Nigh drownded out, and Mem'ry squares her jaws and sort o' says She won't ner never will fergit, I want to jes' turn in And take and light right out o' here and git back West ag'in And stay there, when I git there, where I never haf ' to say * I want to hear the old band play. " LAST CHRISTMAS WAS A YEAR AGO " (THE OLD LADY SPEAKS) LAST Christmas was a year ago, Says I to David, I-says-I, "We 're goin' to morning-service, so You hitch up right away : I '11 try To tell the girls jes' what to do Fer dinner. We '11 be back by two." I did n't wait to hear what he Would more 'n like say back to me, But banged the stable door and flew Back to the house, jes' plumb chilled through. Cold! Wooh! how cold it was! My-oh! Frost flyin', and the air, you know, " Jes' sharp enough," heerd David swear, " To shave a man and cut his hair ! " "LAST CHRISTMAS WAS A YEAR AGO" 5 1 And blow and blow ! and snow and snow ! Where it had drifted 'long the fence And 'crost the road, some places, though, Jes' swep' clean to the gravel, so The goin' was as bad fer sleighs As 't was fer wagons, and both ways, 'Twixt snowdrifts and the bare ground, I Ve Jes' wundered we got through alive; I hain't saw nothin', 'fore er sence, 'At beat it anywheres, I know- Last Christmas was a year ago. And David said, as we set out, 'At Christmas services was 'bout As cold and wuthless kind o' love To offer up as he knowed of; And as fer him, he railly thought 'At the Good Bein' up above Would think more of us as he ought A-stayin' home on sich a day, And thankin' of him thataway! And jawed on, in an undertone, 'Bout leavin' Lide and Jane alone LAST CHRISTMAS WAS A YEAR AGO" There on the place, and me not there To oversee 'em, and p'pare The stuffin' fer the turkey and The sass and all, you understand. I Ve allus managed David by Jes' sayin' nothirf. That was why He 'd chased Lide's beau away 'cause Lide She 'd allus take up Perry's side When David tackled him; and so, Last Christmas was a year ago, Er ruther, 'bout a week afore, David and Perry 'd quarr'l'd about Some torn-fool argyment, you know, And Pap told him to "Jes' git out O' there, and not to come no more, And, when he went, to shet the door ! " And as he passed the winder, we Saw Perry, white as white could be, March past, onhitch his hoss, and light A see-gyar, and lope out o' sight. Then Lide she come to me and cried ! And I said nothin' was no need. LAST CHRISTMAS WAS A YEAR AGO" And yit, you know, that man jes' got Right out o' there 's ef he 'd be'n shot, P'tendin' he must go and feed The stock er somepin'. Then I tried To git the pore girl pacified. But, gittin' back to where was we ? Oh, yes! where David lectered me All way to meetin", high and low, Last Christmas was a year ago : Fer all the awful cold, they was A fair attendunce ; mostly, though, The crowd was 'round the stoves, you see, Thawin' their heels and scrougin' us. Ef 't 'ad n't be'n fer the old Squire Givin' his seat to us, as in We stomped, a-fairly perishin', And David could 'a' got no fire, He 'd jes' 'a' drapped there in his tracks : And Squire, as I was tryin' to yit Make room fer him, says, " No ; the fac's Is, / got to git up and git 'Ithout no preachin'. Jes' got word Trial fer life can't be deferred!" S3 54 LAST CHRISTMAS WAS A YEAR AGO" And out he putt! And all way through The sermont and a long one, too I could n't he'p but think o' Squire And us changed round so, and admire His gintle ways, to give his warm Bench up, and have to face the storm. And when I noticed David, he Was needin' jabbin' I thought best To kind o' sort o' let him rest: Teared-like he slep' so peacefully! And then I thought o' home, and how And what the gyrls was doin' now, And kind o' prayed, 'way in my breast, And breshed away a tear er two As David waked, and church was through. By time we 'd " howdyed " round and shuck Hands with the neighbers, must 'a' tuck A half hour longer : ever' one A-sayin' " Christmas gift ! " afore David er me so we got none ! But David warmed up, more and more, And got so jokey-like, and had His sperits up, and 'peared so glad, LAST CHRISTMAS WAS A YEAR AGO" I whispered to him, " S'pose you ast A passel of 'em come and eat Their dinners with us. Gyrls 's got A full-and-plenty fer the lot And all their kin ! " So David passed The invite round: and ever' seat In ever' wagon-bed and sleigh Was jes' packed, as we rode away, The young folks, mild er so along, A-strikin' up a sleighin'-song, Tel David laughed and yelled, you know, And jes' whirped up and sent the snow And gravel flyin' thick and fast Last Christmas was a year ago. W'y, that-air seven-mild ja'nt we come Jes' seven mild scant from church to home- It did n't 'pear, that day, to be Much furder railly 'n 'bout three! But I was purty squeamish by The time home hove in sight and I See two vehickles standin' there Already. So says I, "Prepare!" All to myse'f. And presently 55 56 "LAST CHRISTMAS WAS A YEAR AGO" David he sobered; and says he, " Hain't that-air Squire Ranch's old Buggy," he says, " and claybank mare ? " Says I, " Le' 's git in out the cold Your company 's nigh 'bout froze!" He says, " Whose sleigh 's that-air, a-standin' there ? " Says I, " It 's no odds whose you jes' Drive to the house and let us out, 'Cause we 're jes' freezin\ nigh about ! " Well, David swung up to the door, And out we piled. And first I heerd Jane's voice, then Lide's, I thought afore I reached that gyrl I 'd jes' die, shore; And when I reached her, would n't keered Much ef I had, I was so glad, A-kissin' her through my green veil, And jes' excitin' her so bad, 'At she broke down herse'f and Jane, She cried and we all hugged again. And David? David jes' turned pale! Looked at the gyrls, and then at me, Then at the open door and then " Is old Squire Hanch in there ? " says he. LAST CHRISTMAS WAS A YEAR AGO" 57 The old Squire suddently stood in The doorway, with a sneakin' grin. " Is Perry Anders in there, too ? " Says David, limberin' all through, As Lide and me both grabbed him, and Perry stepped out and waved his hand And says, " Yes, Pap." And David jes' Stooped and kissed Lide, and says, " I guess Yer mother 's much to blame as you. Ef she kin resk him, I kin too ! " The dinner we had then hain't no Bit better 'n the one to-day 'At we '11 have fer 'em. Hear some sleigh A-jinglin' now. David, fer me, I wish you 'd jes' go out and see Ef they 're in sight yit. It jes' does Me good to think, in times like these, Lide 's done so well. And David, he 's More tractabler 'n what he was Last Christmas was a year ago. THE ALL-KIND MOTHER Lo, whatever is at hand Is full meet for the demand : Nature ofttimes giveth best When she seemeth chariest. She hath shapen shower and sun To the need of every one Summer bland and winter drear, Dimpled pool and frozen mere. All thou lackest she hath still Near thy finding and thy fill. Yield her fullest faith, and she Will endow thee royally. Loveless weed and lily fair She attendeth, here and there Kindly to the weed as to The lorn lily teared with dew. 58 THE ALL-KIND MOTHER Each to her hath use as dear As the other ; an thou clear Thy cloyed senses thou may'st see Haply all the mystery. Thou shall see the lily get Its divinest blossom ; yet Shall the weed's tip bloom no less With the song-bird's gleefulness. Thou art poor, or thou art rich Never lightest matter which ; All the glad gold of the noon, All the silver of the moon, She doth lavish on thee, while Thou withholdest any smile Of thy gratitude to her, Baser used than usurer. Shame be on thee an thou seek Not her pardon, with hot cheek, And bowed head, and brimming eyes, At her merciful "Arise!" 59 OUR HIRED GIRL OUR hired girl, she 's 'Lizabuth Ann ; An' she can cook best things to eat! She ist puts dough in our pie-pan, An' pours in somepin' 'at 's good an' sweet ; An' nen she salts it all on top With cinnamon ; an' nen she '11 stop An' stoop an' slide it, ist as slow, In th" old cook-stove, so 's 't won't slop 60 OUR HIRED GIRL 61 An' git all spilled ; nen bakes it, so It 's custard-pie, first thing you know! An' nen she '11 say, '.' Clear out o' my way ! They 's time fer work, an' time fer play! Take yer dough, an' run, child, run! Er I cain't git no cookin' done! " When our hired girl 'tends like she 's mad, An' says folks got to walk the chalk When she 's around, er wisht they had! I play out on our porch an' talk To th' Raggedy Man 'at mows our lawn ; An' he says, " Whew! " an' nen leans on His old crook-scythe, and blinks his eyes, An' sniffs all 'round an' says, " I swawn ! Ef my old nose don't tell me lies, It 'pears like I smell custard-pies ! " An' nen he '// say, . " Clear out o' my way ! They 's time fer work, an' time fer play! Take yer dough, an' run, child, run! Er she cain't git no cookin' done ! " 62 OUR HIRED GIRL Wunst our hired girl, when she Got the supper, an' we all et, An' it wuz night, an' Ma an' me An' Pa went wher' the " Social " met, An' nen when we come home, an' see A light in the kitchen-door, an' we Heerd a maccordeun, Pa says, " Lan'- O'-Gracious! who can her beau be? " An' I marched in, an' 'Lizabuth Ann Wuz parchin' corn fer the Raggedy Man! Better say, " Clear out o' the way! They 's time fer work, an' time fer play! Take the hint, an' run, child, run! Er we cain't git no courtin' done! " THE RAGGEDY MAN O THE Raggedy Man! He works fer Pa; An' he 's the goodest man ever you saw! He comes to our house every day, An' waters the horses, an' feeds 'em hay ; An' he opens the shed an' we all ist laugh When he drives out our little old wobble-ly calf ; An' nen ef our hired girl says he can He milks the cow fer 'Lizabuth Ann. Ain't he a' awful good Raggedy Man? Raggedy! Raggedy! Raggedy Man! W'y, the Raggedy Man he 's ist so good, He splits the kindlin' an' chops the wood ; An' nen he spades in our garden, too, An' does most things 'at boys can't do. He clumbed clean up in our big tree An' shocked a' apple down fer me An' 'nother 'n', too, fer 'Lizabuth Ann An' 'nother 'n', too, fer the Raggedy Man. Ain't he a' awful kind Raggedy Man? Raggedy! Raggedy! Raggedy Man! 9 63 THE RAGGEDY MAN An' the Raggedy Man, he knows most rhymes, An' tells 'em, ef I be good, sometimes : Knows 'bout Giunts, an' Griffuns, an' Elves, An' the Squidgicum-Squees 'at swallers themselves! An', wite by the pump in our pasture-lot, He showed me the hole 'at the Wunks is got, 'At lives 'way deep in the ground, an' can Turn into me, er 'Lizabuth Ann! Ain't he a funny old Raggedy Man? Raggedy! Raggedy! Raggedy Man! THE RAGGEDY MAN ( The Raggedy Man one time, when he Wuz makin' a little bow'-n'-orry fer me, Says, " When you 're big like your Pa is, Kir you go' to keep a fine store like his An' be a rich merchunt an' wear fine clothes ?- Er what air you go' to be, goodness knows? " An' nen he laughed at 'Lizabuth Ann, An' I says, " 'M go' to be a Raggedy Man! I 'm ist go' to be a nice Raggedy Man! " Raggedy! Raggedy! Raggedy Man! COIN' TO THE FAIR (OLD STYLE) WHEN Me an' my Ma an' Pa went to the Fair, Ma borried Mizz Rollins-uz rigg to go there, 'Cause our buggy 's new, an' Ma says, " Mercy-sake ! It would n't hold half the folks she 's go' to take ! " An' she took Marindy, an' Jane's twins, an' Jo, An' Aunty Van Meters-uz girls an' old Slo' Magee, 'at 's so fat, come a-scrougin' in there, When me an' my Ma an' Pa went to the Fair ! The road 's full o' loads-full 'ist ready to bust, An' all hot, an' smokin' an' chokin' with dust; The Wolffs an' their wagon, an' Brizen tines, too An' horses 'ist r'ared when the toot-cars come through ! An' 'way from fur off we could hear the band play, An' peoples all there 'u'd 'ist whoop an' hooray ! An' I stood on the dash-board, an' Pa boost me there 'Most high as the fence, when we went to the Fair! 66 COIN' TO THE FAIR 67 An' when we 'uz there an' inside, we could see Wher' the flag 's on a pole wher' a show 's go' to be ; An' boys up in trees, an' the grea'-big balloon 'At did n't goned up a-tall, all afternoon! An' a man in the crowd there gived money away An' Pa says " he 'd ruther earn his by the day ! " An' he gim-me some, an' says " ain't nothin' there Too good fer his boy," when we went to the Fair! Wisht the Raggedy Man wuz there, too ! but he says, : Don't talk fairs to me, child ! I went to one ; yes, An' they wuz a swing there ye rode an' I rode, An' a thing-um-a-jing 'at ye blowed an' I blowed ; An' they wuz a game 'at ye played an' I played, An' a hitch in the same wher' ye paid an' I paid ; An' they wuz two bad to one good peoples there Like you an' your Pa an' Ma went to the Fair ! " GLADNESS MY ole man named Silas: he Dead long 'fo' ole Gin'l Lee S'rendah, whense de wah wuz done. Yanks dey tuk de plantation Mos' high-handed evah you see! Das rack roun', an' fiah an' bu'n, An' jab de beds wid deir bay'net-gun, An' sweah we niggahs all scotch-free, An' Massah John C. Pemberton Das tuk an' run ! " Gord Armighty, marm," he 'low, " He'p you an' de chillen now ! " Blaze crack out 'n de roof inside Tel de big house all das charified ! Smoke roll out 'n de ole hay-mow An' de wa'house do' an' de fiah das roah 68 GLADNESS 69 An' all dat 'backer, 'bout half dried, Hit smell das fried! Nelse, my ol'est boy, an' John, Atter de baby das wuz bo'n, Erlongse dem times, an' lak ter 'a' died, An' Silas he be'n slip an' gone 'Bout eight weeks ter de Union side, Dem two boys dey start fo' ter fine An' jine deir fader acrost de line. Ovahseeah he wade an' tromp Eveh-which-way fo' to track 'em down Sic de bloodhoun' fro' de swamp An' bring de news dat John he drown' But dey save de houn' ! Someway ner Nelse git fro' An' fight fo' de ole Red, White, an' Blue, Lak his fader is, ter er heart's delight An' nen crope back wid de news, one night Sayes, " Fader 's killed in a scrimmage-fight, An' saunt farewell ter ye all, an' sayes Fo' ter name de baby ' Gladness,' 'caze j GLADNESS Mighty nigh she 'uz be'n borned free ! " An' de boy he smile so strange at me I sayes, " Yo' 's hurt yo'se'ff " an' he Sayes, " I 's killed, too an' dat 's all else ! " An' dah lay Nelse ! Hope an' Angrish, de twins, be'n sole 'Fo' dey mo' 'n twelve year ole: An' Mary Magdaline sole too. An' dah I 's lef, wid Knox-Andrew, An' Lily, an' Maje, an' Margaret, An' little gal-babe, 'at 's borned dat new She scaisely ole fo' ter be named yet Less 'n de name 'at Si say to An' co'se hit do. An' I taken dem chillen, evah one (An' a-oh my Mastah's will be done!), An' I break fo' de Norf, whah dey all raised free (An' a-oh good Mastah, come git me !). Knox-Andrew, on de day he died, Lef his fambly er shop an' er lot berside; An' Maje die ownin' er team an' he Lef all ter me. GLADNESS Lily she work at de Gran' Hotel (Mastah! Mastah ! take me do!) An' Lily she ain' married well: He stob a man an' she die too; An' Margaret she too full er pride Ter own her kin tel er day she died! But Gladness! 't ain' soun' sho'-nuff true, But she teached school ! an' er white folks, Ruspec' dat gal 'mos' high ez I do ! 'Gaze she 'uz de bes' an de mos' high bred De las' chile bo'n, an' de las' chile dead, O' all ten head ! Gladness! Gladness! a-oh my chile! Wa'm my soul in yo' sweet smile! Daughter o' Silas ! o-rise an' sing Tel er heart-beat pat lak er pigeon -wing ! Sayes, O Gladness ! wake dem eyes Sayes, a-HP dem folded han's, an' rise Sayes, a-coax me erlong ter Paradise, An' a-hail de King, O Gladness! 10 FESSLER'S BEES " TALKIN' 'bout yer bees," says Ike, Speakin' slow and ser'ous-like, " D' ever tell you 'bout old 'Bee' Old 'Bee' Fessler?" Ike says-he! " Might call him a bee-expert, When it come to handlin' bees, Roll the sleeves up of his shirt And wade in amongst the trees Where a swarm 'u'd settle, and Blamedest man on top of dirt ! Rake 'em with his naked hand Right back in the hive ag'in, Jes' as easy as you please ! Nary bee 'at split the breeze Ever jabbed a stinger in Old ' Bee ' Fessler jes' in fun, Er in air nest nary one! Could n't agg one on to, nuther, Ary one way er the other! FESSLER' S BEES 73 " Old ' Bee ' Fessler," Ike says-he, " Made 'a speshyality Jes' o' bees; and built a shed Len'th about a half a mild! Had about a thousand head O' hives, I reckon tame and wild ! Durndest buzzin' ever wuz Wuss 'n telegraph-poles does When they 're sockin' home the news Tight as they kin let 'er loose! Visitors rag out and come Clean from town to hear 'em hum, And stop at the kivered bridge; But wuz some 'u'd cross the ridge Allus, and go clos'ter so 's They could see 'em hum, I s'pose ! Teared-like strangers down that track Allus met folks comin' back Lookin' extry fat and hearty Fer a city picnic party ! " 'Fore he went to Floridy, Old 'Bee' Fessler," Ike says-he 74 FESSLER'S BEES " Old ' Bee ' Fessler could n't bide Childern on his place," says Ike. " Yit, fer all, they 'd climb inside And tromp round there, keerless-like, In their bare feet. ' Bee ' could tell Ev'ry town-boy by his yell So 's 'at when they bounced the fence, Did n't make no difference! He 'd jes' git down on one knee In the grass and pat the bee ! And, ef 't 'ad n't stayed stuck in, Fess' 'u'd set the sting ag'in, 'N' potter off, and wait around Fer the old famillyer sound. Allus boys there, more er less, Scootin' round the premises ! When the buckwheat wuz in bloom, Lawzy ! how them bees 'u'd boom Round the boys 'at crossed that way Fer the crick on Saturday ! Never seemed to me su'prisin' 'At the sting o' bees 'uz p'izin! "'Fore he went to Floridy," Ike says, "nothin' 'bout a bee FESSLER' S BEES 75 'At old Fessler did n't know, W'y, it jes' 'peared-like 'at he Knowed their language, high and low : Claimed he told jes' by their buzz What their wants and wishes wuz! Peek in them-air little holes Round the porches o' the hive Drat their pesky little souls ! Could 'a' skinned the man alive! Bore right in there with his thumb, And squat down and scrape the gum Outen ev'ry hole, and blow 'N' bresh the crumbs off, don't you know ! Take the roof off, and slide back Them-air glass concerns they pack Full o' honey, and jes' lean 'N' grabble 'mongst 'em fer the queen! Fetch her out and show you to her Jes', you might say, interview her ! "Year er two," says Ike, says-he, "'Fore he went to Floridy, Fessler struck the theory, Honey was the same as love 76 FESSLER'S BEES You could make it day and night : Said them bees o' his could be Got jes' twic't the work out of Ef a feller managed right. He contended ef bees found blossoms all the year around, He could git 'em down at once To work all the winter months Same as summer. So, one fall, When their summer's work wuz done, 1 Bee ' turns in and robs 'em all ; Loads the hives then, one by one, On the cyars, and 'lowed he 'd see Ef bees loafed in Floridy ! Said he bet he'd know the reason Ef his did n't work that season ! " And," says Ike, " it 's jes'," says-he, " Like old Fessler says to me : 'Any man kin fool a bee, Git him down in Floridy ! ' 'Feared at fust, as old 'Bee' said, Fer to kind o' turn their head FESS LEX'S BEES Fer a spell; but, bless you! they Did n't lose a half a day Altogether! Jes' lit in Them-air tropics, and them-air Cacktusses a-ripen-nin', 'N' magnolyers, and sweet-peas, 5 N' 'simmon and pineapple trees, 'N' ripe bananners, here and there, 'N' dates a-danglin' in the breeze, 5 N' figs and reezins ev'rywhere, All waitin' jes' fer Fessler's bees! 'N' Fessler's bees, with gaumy wings, A-gittin' down and whoopirf things! Fessler kind o' overseein' 'Em, and sort o' ' hee-o-heeit? / ' " 'Fore he went to Floridy, Old 'Bee' Fessler," Ike says-he, " Wuz n't counted, jes' to say, Mean er or'n'ry anyway; On'y ev'ry 'tarnel dime 'At 'u'd pass him on the road He 'd ketch up with, ev'ry time ; And no mortal ever knowed 77 78 FESSLER'S BEES Him to spend a copper cent 'Less on some fool- speriment With them bees like that-un he Played on 'em in Floridy. Fess', of course, he tuck his ease, But 't wuz bilious on the bees! Sweat, you know, 'u'd jes' stand out On their forreds pant and groan, And grunt round and limp about! And old ' Bee,' o' course, a-knowin' 'T wuz n't no fair shake to play On them pore dumb insecks, ner To abuse 'em thataway. Bees has rights, I 'm here to say, And that 's all they ast him fer! Man as mean as that, jes' 'pears, Could 'a' worked bees on the sheers ! Cleared big money well, I guess, ' Bee ' shipped honey, more er less, Into ev'ry state, perhaps, Ever putt down in the maps! " But by time he fetched 'em back In the spring ag'in," says Ike, FESSLER'S BEES " They wuz actin' s'picious-like : Though they 'peared to lost the track O' ev'rything they saw er heard, They 'd lay round the porch, and gap' At their shadders in the sun, Do-less like, ontel some bird Suddently 'u'd mayby drap In a bloomin' churry-tree, Twitterin' a tune 'at run In their minds familiously ! They'd revive up, kind o', then, Like they argied : ' Well, it 's be'n The most longest summer we Ever saw er want to see! Must be right, though, er old 'Bee 1 'U'd notify us!' they says-ee; And they'd sort o' square their chin And git down to work ag'in Moanin' round their honey-makin', Kind o' like their head was achin'. Tetchin* fer to see how they Trusted Fessler thataway Him a-lazin' round, and smirkin' To hisse'f to see 'em workin' ! 11 79 8o FESSLER'S BEES " But old ' Bee,' " says Ike, says-he, " Now where is he ? Where 's he gone ? Where's the head he helt so free? Where's his pride and vanity? What's his hopes a-restin' on? Never knowed a man," says Ike, "Take advantage of a bee, 'At affliction didn't strike Round in that vicinity! Sinners allus suffers some, And old Fessler's reck'nin' come! That-air man to-day is jes' Like the grass 'at Scriptur' says Cometh up, and then turns in And jes' gits cut down ag'in! Old 'Bee' Fessler," Ike says-he, "Says, last fall, says he to me 'Ike,' says he, 'them bees has jes' Ciphered out my or'n'riness! Nary bee in ary swarm On the whole endurin' farm Won't have nothin' more to do With a man as mean as I 've Be'n to them, last year er two! FESSLER'S BEES 8 1 Nary bee in ary hive But '11 turn his face away, Like they ort, whenever they Hear my footprints drawin' nigh ! ' And old ' Bee,' he 'd sort o' shy Round oneasy in his cheer, Wipe his eyes, and yit the sap, Spite o' all, Vd haf to drap, As he wound up: 'Would n't keer Quite so much ef they 'd jes' light In and settle things up right, Like they ort; but blame the thing! Tears-like they won't even sting f Pepper me, the way I felt, And I 'd thank 'em, ev'ry welt ! ' And as miz'able and mean As ' Bee ' looked, ef you 'd 'a' seen Them-air hungry eyes," says Ike, "You 'd fergive him, more 'n like. "Wisht you had 'a' knowed old 'Bee' 'Fore he went to Floridy ! " A LIFE TERM SHE was false, and he was true, Thus their lives were rent apart; 'T was his dagger driven through A mad rival's heart. He was shut away. The moon May not find him ; nor the stars Nay, nor yet the sun of noon Pierce his prison bars. She was left again to sin Mistress of all siren arts: The poor, soulless heroine Of a hundred hearts ! 82 A LIFE TERM Though she dare not think of him Who believed her lies, and so Sent a ghost adown the dim Path she dreads to go, He, in fancy, smiling, sips Of her kisses, purer yet Than the dew upon the lips Of the violet. "THE LITTLE MAN IN THE TINSHOP " WHEN I was a little boy, long ago, And spoke of the theatre as " the show," The first one that I went to see, Mother's brother it was took me (My uncle, of course, though he seemed to be Only a boy I loved him so! ) "THE LITTLE MAN IN THE TIN SHOP" 8 And ah, how pleasant he made it all! And the things he knew that / should know ! The stage, the " drop," and the frescoed wall ; The sudden flash of the lights'; and oh, The orchestra, with its melody, And the lilt and jingle and jubilee Of "The Little Man in the Tinshop"! For Uncle showed me " The Leader " there, With his pale, bleak forehead and long, black hair ; Showed me the " Second," and " 'Cello," and " Bass,'' And the " B-Flat," pouting and puffing his face At the little end of the horn he blew Silvery bubbles of music through ; 86 "THE LITTLE MAN IN THE TIN SHOP" And he coined me names of them, each in turn, Some comical name that I laughed to learn, Clean on down to the last and best, The lively little man, never at rest, Who hides away at the end of the string, And tinkers and plays on everything. That 's " The Little Man in the Tinshop " ! Raking a drum like a rattle of hail, Clinking a cymbal or Castanet ; Chirping a twitter or sending a wail Through a piccolo that thrills me yet ; Reeling ripples of riotous bells, And tipsy tinkles of triangles THE LITTLE MAN IN THE TIN SHOP Wrangled and tangled in skeins of sound Till it seemed that my very soul spun round, As I leaned, in a breathless joy, toward my Radiant uncle, who snapped his eye And said, with the courtliest wave of his hand, " Why, that little master of all the band Is The Little Man in the Tinshop ! 12 88 "THE LITTLE MAN IN THE TIN SHOP' " And I 've heard Verdi, the Wonderful, And Paganini, and Ole Bull, Mozart, Handel, and Mendelssohn, And fair Parepa, whose matchless tone Karl, her master, with magic bow, Blent with the angels', and held her so Tranced till the rapturous Infinite And I 've heard arias, faint and low, From many an operatic light Glimmering on my swimming sight Dimmer and dimmer, until, at last, I still sit, holding my roses fast For The Little Man in the Tinshop." 1 THE LITTLE MAN IN THE TIN SHOP " 89 Oho! my Little Man, joy to you And yours and theirs your lifetime through! Though / *ve heard melodies, boy and man, Since first " the show " of my life began, Never yet have I listened to Sadder, madder, or gladder glees Than your unharmonied harmonies ; 9 THE LITTLE MAN IN THE TIN SHOP" For yours is the music that appeals To all the fervor the boy's heart feels All his glories, his wildest cheers, His bravest hopes, and his brightest tears ; And so, with his first bouquet, he kneels To " The Little Man in the Tinshop." FROM A BALLOON Ho ! we are loose. Hear how they shout, And how their clamor dwindles out Beneath us to the merest hum Of earthly acclamation. Come, Lean with me here and look below Why, bless you, man! don't tremble so! There is no need of fear up here Not higher than the buzzard swings About upon the atmosphere, With drowsy eyes and open wings! There, steady, now, and feast your eyes; See, we are tranced we do not rise; It is the earth that sinks from us : But when I first beheld it thus, And felt the breezes downward flow, And heard all noises fail and die, Until but silence and the sky Above, around me, and below, Why, like you now, I swooned almost, With mingled awe and fear and glee As giddy as an hour-old ghost That stares into eternity. "TRADIN 1 JOE" I 'M one o' these cur'ous kind o' chaps You think you know when you don't, perhaps! I hain't no fool ner I don't p'tend To be so smart I could rickommend Myself fer a congerssman, my friend ! But I 'm kind o' betwixt-and-between, you know, One o' these fellers 'at folks calls " slow." And I '11 say jest here I 'm kind o' queer Regardin' things 'at I see and hear, Fer I 'm thick o' hearin' sometimes, and It 's hard to git me to understand ; But other times it hain't, you bet! Fer I don't sleep with both eyes shet! I 've swopped a power in stock, and so The rieighbers calls me " Tradin' Joe " And I 'm goin' to tell you 'bout a trade, And one o' the best I ever made : Folks has gone so fur 's to say 'At I 'm well fixed, in a worldly way, 92 "TRADIN' JOE" 93 And beirf so, and a widower, It 's not su'prisin', as you '11 infer, I 'm purty handy among the sect Widders especially, rickollect! And I won't deny that along o' late I 've hankered a heap fer the married state But some way o' 'nother the longer we wait The harder it is to discover a mate. Marshall Thomas, a friend o' mine, Doin' some in the tradin' line, But a'most too young to know it all On'y at picnics er some ball! Says to me, in a banterin' way, As we was a-loadin' stock one day, '' You 're a-huntin' a wife, and I want you to see My girl's mother, at Kankakee ! She hain't over forty good-lookin' and spry, And jest the woman to fill your eye! And I 'm a-goin' there Sund'y, and now," says he, ; I want to take you along with me; And you marry her, and," he says, "by 'shaw! You '11 hev me fer yer son-in-law! " 94 "TRADIN' JOE" I studied a while, and says I, " Well, I '11 First have to see ef she suits my style ; And ef she does, you kin bet your life Your mother-in-law will be my wife! " Well, Sund'y come ; and I fixed up some Putt on a collar I did, by gum! Got down my "plug," and my satin vest (You would n't know me to see me dressed! But any one knows ef you got the clothes You kin go in the crowd wher' the best of 'em goes ! ) And I greeced my boots, and combed my hair Keerfully over the bald place there ; And Marshall Thomas and me that day Eat our dinners with Widder Gray And her girl Han' ! * * * Weil, jest a glance O' the widder's smilin' countenance, A-cuttin' up chicken and big pot-pies, Would make a man hungry in Paradise! And passin' p'serves and jelly and cake 'At would make an angel's appetite ache f "TRADIN' JOE" Pourin' out coffee as yaller as gold Twic't as much as the cup could hold La! it was rich! And then she 'd say, "Take some o" this! " in her coaxin' way, Tel ef I 'd been a hoss I 'd ^.-foundered, shore, And jest dropped dead on her white-oak floor! Well, the way I talked would a-done you good, Ef you 'd a-been there to a-understood ; . Tel I noticed Hanner and Marshall, they Was a-noticin' me in a cur'ous way ; So I says to myse'f, says I, " Now, Joe, The best thing fer you is to jest go slow! " And I simmered down, and let them do The bulk o' the talkin' the evening through. And Marshall was still in a talkative gait When we left, that evening tollable late. " How do you like her? " he says to me ; Says I, "She suits, to a 't-y-Tee' !" And then I ast how matters stood With him in the opposite neighberhood? "Bully! " he says ; " I ruther guess I '11 finally git her to say the ' yes.' 13 9 6 "TRADIN' JOE" I named it to her to-night, and she Kind o' smiled, and said ' she 'd see ' And that 's a purty good sign ! " says he : "Yes," says I, "you 're ahead o' me/" And then he laughed, and said, "Go in! " And patted me on the shoulder ag'in. Well, ever sence then I 've been ridin' a good Deal through the Kankakee neighberhood ; And I make it convenient sometimes to stop And hitch a few minutes, and kind o' drop In at the widder's, and talk o' the crop And one thing o' 'nother. And week afore last The notion struck me, as I drove past, I 'd stop at the place and state my case Might as well do it at first as last! I felt first-rate ; so I hitched at the gate, And went up to the house ; and, strange to relate, Marshall Thomas had dropped in, too. " Glad to see you, sir, how do you do ? " He says, says he! Well it sounded queer; And when Han' told me to take a cheer, "TRADW JOE" 97 Marshall got up and putt out o' the room And motioned his hand fer the widder to come. I did n't say nothin' fer quite a spell, But thinks I to myse'f, " Ther' 's a dog in the well! " And Han' she smiled so cur'ous at me Says I, " What 's up? " And she says, says she, " Marshall 's been at me to marry ag'in, And I told him ' no,' jest as you come in." Well, sumepin' o' 'nother in that girl's voice Says to me, "Joseph, here 's your choice!" And another minute her guileless breast Was lovin'ly throbbin' ag'in my vest ! And then I kissed her, and heerd a smack Come like a' echo a-flutterin' back, And we looked around, and in full view Marshall was kissin' the widder too! Well, we all of us laughed, in our glad su'prise, Tel the tears come a-streamiri out of our eyes! And when Marsh said " 'T was the squarest trade That ever me and him had made," We both shuck hands, 'y jucks ! and swore We 'd stick together ferevermore. And old 'Squire Chipman tuck us the trip : And Marshall and me 's in pardnership! UNCLE WILLIAM'S PICTURE UNCLE WILLIAM, last July, Had his picture took. " Have it done, of course," says I, " Jes' the way you look ! " (All dressed up, he was, fer the Barbecue and jubilee The old settlers helt.) So he Last he had it took. Lide she 'd coaxed and begged and pled, Sence her mother went ; But he 'd cough and shake his head At all argyment; Mebby clear his th'oat and say, " What 's my likeness 'mount to, hey, Now with Mother gone away From us, like she went?" But we projicked round, tel we Got it figgered down UNCLE WILLIAM'S PICTURE How we 'd git him, Lide and me, Drivin' into town; Bragged how well he looked and fleshed Up around the face, and freshed With the morning air; and breshed His coat-collar down. All so providential! W'y, Now he 's dead and gone, Picture 'pears so lifelike I Want to start him on Them old tales he ust to tell, And old talks so sociable, And old songs he sung so well 'Fore his voice was gone! Face is sad to Lide, and they 's Sorrow in the eyes Kisses it sometimes, and lays It away and cries. I smooth down her hair, and 'low He is happy, anyhow, Bein' there with Mother now, Smile, and wipe my eyes. 99 THE FISHING-PARTY WUNST we went a-fishin' Me An' my Pa an' Ma, all three, When they wuz a picnic, 'way Out to Hanch's Woods, one day. An' they wuz a crick out there, Where the fishes is, an' where Little boys 't ain't big an' strong Better have their folks along! My Pa he ist fished an' fished! An' my Ma she said she wished Me an' her was home ; an' Pa Said he wished so worse 'n Ma. Pa s.aid ef you talk, er say Anything, er sneeze, er play, Hain't no fish, alive er dead, Ever go' to bite! he said. THE FISHING-PARTY Purt'-nigh dark in town when we Got back home ; an' Ma, says she, Now she '11 have a fish fer shore! An' she buyed one at the store. Nen at supper, Pa he won't Eat no fish, an' says he don't Like 'em. An' he pounded me When I choked! . . . Ma, did n't he? 101 SQUIRE HAWKINS'S STORY I HAIN'T no hand at tellin' tales, Er spinnin' yarns, as the sailors say ; Someway o' 'nother, language fails To slide fer me in the oily way That lawyers has ; and I wisht it would, Fer I 've got somepin' that I call good ; But bein' only a country squire, I 've learned to listen and admire, Ruther preferrin' to be addressed Than talk myse'f but I '11 do my best: Old Jeff Thompson well, I '11 say, Was the clos'test man I ever saw ! Rich as cream, but the porest pay, And the meanest man to work fer La! I Ve knowed that man to work one "hand " Fer little er nothin', you understand From four o'clock in the morning light Tel eight and nine o'clock at night, And then find fault with his appetite! SQUIRE HAWKINS'S STORY 103 He 'd drive all over the neighberhood To miss the place where a toll-gate stood, And slip in town, by some old road That no two men in the county knowed, With a jag o' wood, and a sack o' wheat, That would n't burn and you could n't eat! And the trades he 'd make, '11 I jest de-clare, Was enough to make a preacher swear! And then he 'd hitch, and hang about Tel the lights in the toll-gate was blowed out, And then the turnpike he 'd turn in And sneak his way back home ag'in ! Some folks hint, and I make no doubt, That that 's what wore his old wife out Toilin' away from day to day And year to year, through heat and cold, Uncomplainin' the same old way The martyrs died in the days of old ; And a-clingin', too, as the martyrs done, To one fixed faith, and her only one, Little Patience, the sweetest child That ever wept unrickonciled, u 104 SQUIRE HAWKINS'S STORY Er felt the pain and the ache and sting That only a mother's death can bring. Patience Thompson ! I think that name Must a-come from a power above, Fer it seemed to fit her jest the same As a gaiter would, er a fine kid glove ! And to see that girl, with all the care Of the household on her I de-clare It was oudacious, the work she 'd do, And the thousand plans that she 'd putt through ; And sing like a medder-lark all day long, And drownd her cares in the joys o' song ; And laugh sometimes tel the farmer's " hand," Away fur off in the fields, would stand A-listenin', with the plow half drawn, Tel the coaxin' echoes called him on ; And the furries seemed, in his dreamy eyes, Like footpaths a-leadin' to Paradise, As off through the hazy atmosphere The call fer dinner reached his ear. Now love 's as cunnin' a little thing As a hummin'-bird upon the wing, SQUIRE HAWKINS'S STORY And as liable to poke his nose Jest where folks would least suppose, And more 'n likely build his nest Right in the heart you 'd leave unguessed, And live and thrive at your expense At least, that 's my experience. And old Jeff Thompson often thought, In his se'fish way, that the quiet John Was a stiddy chap, as a farm-hand ought To always be, fer the airliest dawn Found John busy and "easy" too, Whenever his wages would fall due ! To sum him up with a final touch, He eat so little and worked so much, That old Jeff laughed to hisse'f and said, He makes me money and aims his bread! " But John, fer all of his quietude, Would sometimes drap a word er so That none but Patience understood, And none but her was meant to know ! Mayby at meal-times John would say, As the sugar-bowl come down his way, 106 SQUIRE HAWKINS'S STORY " Thanky, no ; my coffee 's sweet Enough fer me! " with sich conceit, She '