IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 1.0 I.I m lU 121 S la no 1^ |U 1 1.6 ^^^^B IIIIIH^^B MH^^^H ^ ^ >^ 'V ^ iKiiii^:ii Gorporadon ^ .^^ '<> -^ -♦' tS ««MT MAM tTMIT WIMTM,N.V. I4IM (n«)l71-4»09 CIHM/ICMH Microfiche Series. CIHJVI/ICMH Collection de microfiches. Canadian Inttltuta fw Htatofloal MIcrofapfoduGtIona / InaHtut Canadian da mteroraproduetlona lilatoriquaa 'd Tachnical and Bibliographic NotM/NotM taehniquM at bibliographiquM The( toth Tha inatituta haa attamptad to obtain tha baat original copy avaiiabia for filming. 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Meps, pistes, cherts, etc., may be filmed et different reduction ratios. Those too large to be entirely included in one exposure are filmed beginning in the upper left hand comer, left to right end top to bottom, as many frames as required. The following diegrems illustrate the method: Les cartes, planches, tebleeux, etc., peuvent Atre fllmte i dee taux de rAductlon diff Arents. Lorsque le document est trop grend pour Atre reprodult en un seul cllohA, II est fllmA A pertir de I'engle supArieur gauche, de gauche A droite, et de haut en bee, en prenant ie nombre d'imeges nAcessalre. Les diagrammee suivents iliustrent la mAthode. 1 a 9 1 2 3 4 5 6 f'S-it-j ^iiyiife' C^HER , P0EM8 ' ^ '••'■'^1 '? 'i >>■ J, f» V n \'< mAWFyC. SLACK ^' - ^'i- '■'■%U ♦X* Vi: I Village verse stories AND OTHER POEMS BY CRAIVF. C. SLACK p\ ] INDEX TO CONTENTS- Introduction 1 The Villagre 2 Them Ere Wimmen Wants Ter Vote fi Only Ordinary Polks d The Horse Trade 11 The Crlticisin' Deacon 16 The Life Insurance Man 19 The Old Cow Bell 22 The Pious Afrigander 2« The Old Time Meetin' 28 The Building Committee 31 When It Takes A Fightin' Feller 34 Some Folks They're Alus Complainin' 37 The Divorce 39 The Ragmuffln's Prayer 44 The Puzzled Squire 48 When Lucinda Led The Singin' 50 The Piano Agent 52 Black Sheep Jim 5(i The Trip Of The Sunset Limited 60 Graham Green's Experience 66 Simon's Decision 68 The Canuck 71 The Bulls And The Bears 74 Home 77 The Days Of " Auld Lung Svne " 7s» The Old Time Huskin Bee 80 The Old Tavern Stove 82 Peggy & Co 85 To Arms ! To Arms ! ^ . 87 ?l A Cart Horse's Soliloquv. Figure For Yourself. ^^ Keep A Pegging, J'ound Avvav' ' ] .' ." !;^,^ To A Caged Canary .... ' •' ^ Tlje District Fair . ••<• Twilight On The L^ke -'^ A Charleston Lake Lvric ''^ Never Mind " 100 To Our Fallen Heroes ^^^2 A Tribute To The Habiiant;.::; •••• }?i Bat ea.e Type Written Letter J^! Los On De Bush ^09 Old Wes'por'....".'. 1^0 Ole White Fish Joe * ^2 My Grand Chile Leetle Joe* *''* The Habitant's Storv ' ^^^ Old Wes'por'. " • H8 Ole Whife-Fish Joe ! ! ! 112 Mj Gran' Chile Leetle Joe **•* The Habitart's Storv ' ^^ Ole Broc'ville Town 118 . Off on de Big Hunt 121 124 . Introduction. To the Public In General : To begfin with this is not a great work, not treasured as such uy the author, and doubtless will it be so tr ,'.;'< < by those into whose hands H may fall. It is but a com- mon work intended for a common folk. Mighty men have written for niigluy miftds, this is but ordint . , by an ordinary, A>r the ordinary. Among the unpresuming I have found my characters which I have (Studied and learned to admire. They are all original and within easy hailing distance at this writing. Among them I have ever lived ; shared in their honest kindness, mingled in their sports and pastimes, their sorrowings and their vicissitudes, their ups and downs, so to speak, and to them this book is most faithfully ascribed. In regard to the language, it is the language of the common people, accented as it is by them and within a compass of say one thousand five-hundred words of easy everyday English. I have not studied the lexicons to find "Jaw-breakers" to tell my simple stories and cover up their many faults. Such words would be out of p!?ce, not in keeping with the characters not characteristic of myself. I have endeavored to tell the stories in a free, off-hand, how I have succeeded I must leave to my readers to judge. The incidents and happenings have all transpired, but, of course, they have been exaggerated and treated perhaps too extravagantly to please some of the finer sentiments and those loving the truth and nothing but the truth. "Village Verses" are not without their faults, and I am not so literary blind that I cannot see some of them. Two I will mention, they are irregular and rambling in verse, why I leave them thus I will explain. The characters which have told the stories as they lounged about the corner grocery store at early evening, scarce if ever narrowed down to the text of their quaint stories, but would ramble and generalize. In their rambling I have followed and present them to you as narrated in a marked degree. In conclusion I beg to say a few words to critics. I do .lot court favor in your criticisms, all I ask is fair dealing. In summing up should there be anything worthy of commendation please pla-^e it to my credit, i •:.m but a working mechanic and when I consider the circumstanc«a under which the work was produced I cannot help but look upon it with some degree of pride, but believe me, without the least thought of conceit whatever. The thoughts contained therein have been linked together in a carriage paint shop and jotted down after hours, in fact, the work has been my recreation. The illustrations are of my own creation and from original drawings and is my very first attempt at book Mlustrating. Hoping my feeble efforts will find some favor with my readers. I am your well wisher, Crawf. C. Slack, Athens, Ont. The Village. You kin boast of city livin' with its splender an its show, Druther live out in the village where the folks are ruther slow — 'Mong the clover-scented medders; where the twilight lipgers long^ And from out the maple wood-land comes a stiain of feathered song — Where the brook a-down the hill-side murmurs on with sweet refrain That is borne upon the breezes far away, then back again — Where the children merry-makin', on the village green at play, Seems ter gladden the snrroundin'^ an' ter charm the partin' day — Where the golden summer sun-set gilds the villhge church's dome, There among the creepin' shadows^ I would druther have my home. See the lazy lowin' cattle zig-zag down the pasture road, Hear the harvest wagon creakin', lumberin' homeward with it's load, See, reflected in the water, slopin' hill with shrub and tree, And ter watch the sombre shadows stealin' o'er the hazy lea ; Huw the lads with forks a-shouldor comin' homo as day grows dim, Hear my good old wife a-singln' some old-time familiar hymn. Talk about yer city musie and your squeaked voiced city choir, When it comes right down ter smgin' they aint in it to inspire She aint no high-paid soprano, filled wfth pride and college art, Her 'ft is melody from the soul, music from an honest heart. If tfi If ve An' Go n| Wimen siitin' 'ronnd a-talkinp: in their home-made flannel frocks ; Some a-mendin' children's clothin', some a knittin' winter socks ; Talkin' 'bout the thinjfs that's happened, jokin' 'bout the men, perhaps, Botherin' of some blushin' maiden 'bout some of 'em farmer chaps ; An' the village gossips joins 'em— every place has one of them, Born to carry news and tattle, don't know as we should condemn ; Lads a-imitatin' circus that hss lately been ter town. Some a-cnttin' up an' HCtin' ; some a playin' of the clown. Some a-sellin' of the tickets over on the old milk-stand, Some a-playin' on the whistles, lettin' on they are the band. When the shades of evenin' deepen an' the hard day's- work is o'dr, Farmin' lads commence ter gather at the corner grocery store, Sittin' round on dry -goods boxes, swappin' yarns an' tellin' jokes, Talkin' 'bout their crops and cattle, visitin' with the village folks ; May be swappin' off their horses, tradin' jack-knives just for fun, Hard ter beat them farmin' fellers, fer they're judges everyone. Maybe tradin' off their watches, think they're up ter every trick ; An' kin tell a ratlin' timer just by listenin' to her tick : Askin' one another questions as ter how the timers suit, Maybe holdin' of a parley over the amount of boot. There, acomln' is the mail man on his tired and sweatin' nag. With a mint of information in a little leather bag. It contains the weekly papers, giving all the latest news. (^uotin' all the market prices, glvln' the produce dealer's views. Mother gets a welcome lettur that she's looked for day by day From her only boy thot's wandered from the village far away. Tells her all about his doin'« an' his goln's to an' fro, Tells her all his little troubles, niakei her old lu-art overflow, With it sends a little token fer ter cheer her anxious fears, Maybe blots the precious letter with a flow of homeaick tears. Bliisliln maidens chide the postman, pure of heart and sweet of voice, If ter them he bears no tidln's from the sweethearts of tUAv choice. If yer look In' fer a model of fair Virtue on her throne, An' you want tor paint her picture or ter carve her out of stone, Go and seek the rural maiden cro you fail or farther trace, An' you'll And 9, m0r.1l picture out-lind on her rustic face. Curse the villain, doubly curse him, who with studied sly deceit Wrecks the pinnacle of virtue, leaves the ruin quite complete ; May the hellish phantoms haunt him fer his callous, cruel crime, Brand him traitor, sneakiu' coward, let it follow him through time. The schoolmaster gets his paper, then the men folks flock aroun', He's the reader of the village, and could shine in any town. Talk about your elocutin', he's the best you ever heard. Never missin' of a sentence, never stops to spell a w-rd ; Reads the editorial column, comments on it as he reads, Maybe reads some advertisements settin' forth the people's needs, Maybe gets ter argufyin' with the grocery -mar. or 'sc^uire He's enouflfh for both em fellers, though they are a knowin' pair, Fer he has the education, knows a sight and knows it well. An' he's a persuadin' feller— tliet the youngsters all kin tell. Now the 'squire an' school-master, better friends you never see, But in politics an' such like, why fhey never kin agree. They'll get cross-ways with each other, call sach names thet are a fright. An' if you didn't know them why you'd think they'd sure'y light. 'B'tut the only one can stop em is the preacher of the place. An' he softens up their feelin's with his reverence and his grace. He has been sent here among us as a guide from year ter year, Ho'« a kind of guardian angel and ter all the people dear, An' he is the lead in' spirit in the little old stone church. An' fer love and christian piety you need no further search. Preachln* twice on every Sunday, sowin' kindness through the week, Vlsltln' the high and lowly, biddin' all the heaven seek ; Prenchin' all the funeral sermons, tries to touch our hearts of stone, 8ympathizin' with the mourners just as if he was their own ; Marries all the village maidens, then, hix countenance a beam, Hither where the good man passes things somehow the brighter seem ; Tondin' all the village meetin's, opens, closes all with prayer. An' his presence Alls the places with a kind of pious air— Couldn't help but like hlni, somehow, couldn't help it if I tried, Preached a sermon Sunday evenm', must admit I nearly cried. 5 In u modest little dwellin', hid away among the trees, There the friend an' benefactor, the aged doctor lives at ease. Restin' now upon his laurels, well desorvin' public praise, He, a peer among the learned and a sage in by-gone days. Never hoarded up much money, never worked because of gain, Made his theme the thirst of knowledge and his garner was the brain ; Doctored rich and poor as equal, drivin' through the sleet and snow. Made no matter as ter distance, for the poor he'd farther go. Now, he' reitin' from his labjr*, poor in purse but rich in fame. For the years of stress and trial, this the recompense — a name. Yonder on the loamy hill-side, 'mong the fields of wavin' corn. Where the creepin' mornin' glory nods ter meet the early morn. Where in spring the merry martins build their nests beneath the caves. And the hang bird swings her hammock 'mong the green and shady leaves, Far from town and city spiender, free from tyranny secure, Stands the county house of refuge, home of the deservin' poor ; Built there by the county people for the poor and those in need 'Tis a monument of kindness. Heaven will reward the deed. Lands ! they live like reignin' monarchs, seem ter be the favored few, In thet home the people gave them, only one some ever knew. Needn't talk ter me 'bout livin' in the city with its show, Drnther live 'mong these surroundin's where the folks are rather slow, 'Mong the clover-scented meddersan' the fields of wavin' grain, Where the brook a-down the hill-nide murmurs on with sweet refrain,. Where the golden summer sun-set gikis the village church's dome — There among tlie slantin' shadows, I would druther have my home. : I THEM ERE WIMMEN WANTS TER VOTE. I don't want t«r be fault-finding with the wimmen nor ther views, Tliey've a riglit ter ther opinion an' ter tell 'em if tliey choose, Ner I don't like bosybodies pryln' in ner snoopin' 'round, They are never in ther places, alus visitln' around. Course I like ter see the wimnoen goin' 'round an' doin' good. An' I like to see 'em havin' all the equal rights they should, But when they get down to votin', over that I'll never gloat, Don't think she was calculated fer ter 'lectioneer an' vote. Don't think votJng is ther mission, though I know ther good ter scheme, Couldn't be so much deceivin', bein' less than what they seem, • ,ij Couldn't be so mean and sneakin', stealin' 'round a buy in' votes. An' I'm 'fraid they'd flood the market with ther sto^k of new turn-coats Now I think thet every woman has a good work to impart, Thet there's a lovin' halo circle round a woman's heart, An' I wouldn't like ter see her so degraded and remote, Sneakin' 'round a buyin' turn-coats, runnin' ter the polls ter vote. I was in m> garden weedln' out my beet an' onion beds, When tow maidens sauntered by me thet had votin' in ther heads, An' they hed a long petition signed by all the names afloat Prayin' ter them chaps at " By-Town '' fer ter let the wimmen vote. My old noddle got ter thinkin' 'bout 'em gals an' wimmen's rights, I concluded what they needed was the real old marriage rites. Then I thought perhaps they'd cast better men than me afloat, Ooin' ter run the ship of state, goin' ter 'lectioneer and vote. Didn't ask me fer ter sign it, guess they thought they'd better not, I'm not tied fer thet ere subject an' I'm liable ter ruii hot. But they went an' called on Banner, she lit on 'em rather stout. Asked 'em all about the matter, fer she wanted ter And out. Then thqy said the wtiiikey question didn t turn out as it should, ..,- .. f,-. . .. ^f' ■ . .*yJ:.;^ ' « c i^ks^- "^^^ o "I was in my (j^arden weedin' out my beet an' onion beds When two damnels they pastied by nie thet hed vottn' in their heads. IlHnnur asked 'em could they help it, said they rather thought they could. Then oho nsked 'em if ther men folk didn't vote to keep it down, HMid they didn't have no men folk, wouldn't have a man aroun', Said fer men thoy didn't hanker on 'em they did never dote, Druther be a platform itumper, druther 'lectioneer an' vote. 8 Now, I don't know mother's feelin's but Fli wager some with you Thet she wouldn't swap me off, Sir, fer the Whig an' Tory crew, An' the children. Heaven bless you, loves 'em more 'en tcngue can tell, Nothin' pleases her old heart more than to know they're doin' well. She worked hard to bring 'em up. Sir, had no time to chase aroiind, Now they are a credit to her, 'bout the best there u around, Yes, she guided '*^m all right, sir, taught 'em right from wrorig by note, Had no tiiafi ter float pertitions, never cared ter run an' vote. Mother, she's a legislator, but she's done it in her home. Taught, the children ways an' means that will help them should they roam, Settled all the family matters that arose from day to day. An' a mighty strong debator if things didn't go her way. Coui*se we've had our little squabbles, mostly alus me to blame, But she never held no hardness, alus loved me just the same, Reckon there would been a coolness if she'd tried to turn my coat. Or went out lectioneerin', got some chap to spoil my vote. Now, I think a woman should for her home give up her all, She can make it hell or heaven, they are both within her call, I don't mean to cage her up, sir, like a bird or beast of pi'cy, Give her all the rights there are, let her run it just her way. Say I wouldn't give a sentence of a lovin' woinan's prayer For a hull years legislatin' of 'em politicians there, But for 'em to go a-votin', over thet I'd never gloat. They were never calculated fer ter 'lectioneer an' vote. I'ro travelled round a bit, sir, an' I've failed to even trace Anything so well adapted as a woman in her place. When you henr a man amakin' 'bout h's wife a great ado. You can alus bet your nickle she's the belt one of the tew You can take the wide world over maybe not with sword or pen. But a woman in her proper place is worth a dozen men. But when she gets out a-votin', over that I do not gloat, She was never calculated fer ter 'lectioneer er vote. Only Ordinary Folks. You may travel in this country from the centre to the sea And you'll meet all kinds of people of a high and low degree ; You will meet all kinds of people, as you tramp from place to place, And most always tell their standing by a study of their face ; You will meet the unpresuming and a ifew that "knows it all,' You will meet the educated, and a heap with brass and gall, You will meet the serious people a^nd the kind made up of jokes But about the grandest people are just ordinary folks. Now, perhaps the finest study that about you'll find Is to study well yourself and the rest of mortal kind. You will And a page of fiction wrapt up in each precious soul, All a'acting in life's drama, playing each a different role. Some play parts without a limit, others play a smaller game, Some for love and some for money, some are playing for a name, Some are little vines a'crecping, others tower like giant oaks, But you'll find the best of people are just ordinary folks. Yon will meet all kinds of Christians with their dogmas en their creeds ; 'Mong them find the Sunday Christian with his shady Monday deeds. They will preach their varied doctrines, and their piety proclaim, But there's many that are crooked and need watching just the same. You will overtake some fellers that are polished to a fault. Catching far more flies with sugar than they ever could with salt. Course you'll meet some honest fellers, that ain't wearing of no cloaks — Nothing counterfeit about 'em only ordinary folks. You may take this thing for granted, fully settled in your mind, That folks seldom get to towering much above their kin en kind, But you'll notice, in discerning, if you're sly en closely scan, Man can't make the woman, but the woman makes the man. 'Tis not always sterling manhood constitutes the belted knight ; He will never make a hero if he warn't born to fight. But the men to make the heroes, bear the burdens and the yokes, You will find down in the district of the ordinary folks. ^T 10 You may fancy hig^h {Kisitions with their titles and their gold, Boast about yoar reigning monarchs, honoreH knights and princes bold Take the world's great men and women of our times and long ugo, They are not from off the highest, neither are they of the low Mark the heroes and the leaders, mark the mighty men of state. Mark the thinkers and inventors, mark all who are truly great. Most of earth's great benefactors, men of minds with hearts of oak, They are of the world's great army of just ordinary folk. If the big world's sweetest singers only sang the higher tones, How we'd long to hear the music of the mellow lower ones ! If the poets all were cultured, chanted but with cbissic art. How we'd miss the simple ballad for to cheer the humble heart ! If but grandest chimes were ringing, if but largest bells were rung, If but choicest organs bellowed, if the grandest choirs but sung, How we'd miss the old time metres as the humble soul invokes, How we'd m-^' the plaintive music of the ordinary folks ! If the maidens all were titled and were haughty, proud and vain, Who would grace the rustic cottage of the honest toiling swain ? Who would be the patient mother, who would heed the childish cry ? Who would rock to sleep the children, sing the soothing lullaby, Who would teach the lisping infant little easy words of prayer ? Was there no kind, loving ruother, who would trouble, who would care ? Give to me the shady saplings rather than the towering oaks ; Let me have my habitation 'mong the ordinary folks. Give to me the leafy sapling and love's little shady bowers— You may linger in the shadow pf the mighty oak that towers Give to me the wayside cottage and the little deeds of love— You may have the gildci mansion you may tower and soar above. Let me sing m common metre, in the mellow lower tones ; You can be the first soprano, sing the classic higher ones. Let me share in deeds of kindness, that in is all the heart invokes, Just an ordinary mortal 'mong the urdinar> folks. 11 The Horse Trade. My good mother taught me lessons that were worth my weight in gold, En if I'd but practiced of them I'd been richer double fold. When a lad out on the homestead, she would take me on her knee — Think I could repeat a hundred maxims that she taught ter me. There were 'bout a dozen of us by which the old home was blest, But she seemed ter take an interest in me more than all the rest. Can't tell why thet she took to me with her love and interest deep, 'Ccpt it was that I was reckless, en perhaps the blackest sheep Strange that alus in a home fold filled with children great en small There will be a favorite 'mong em, mother has a choice in all. Well I won't take up your time. Sir, with the maxims at my call, Per I know you ain't got time fer tew listen tew em all. But if you'll just curb your temper, I will tell you one or two. Then I'll trot on with my story en i'll hurry an' get through. There is one thet I remember, which I've lately made my own. It's "When pennies turn to pounds, why let well enough alone'* '"Tisn't alus best of tradesman that you'll see with best of tools." En "Fer eve**y real smart fellow, there's about four hundred fools.' You may think you are the smartest of all the real smart kind, But you'll run agin a feller some day thet will beat you blind. En I've come tew the conclusion that I'm not the brightest gem En of the four hundred foolish, well, I guess I'm one of them. Once I thought thet I was posted en was pretty middlin' smart. En could t«ll a piece of horse-flesh from a load of hay er cart, An' I had an old*tlme servant thet I'd owned for twenty year. He was a kind of stand by and ter all the family dear.' Why, I used ter drive him courtin' 'mong the maidens near an' fer, En my wife she*s often told me that he helped in winnin' her. Well, he was a winnin' feller, worth his weight in worldly pelf, Fer when we was courtin' sometimes he would have to drive himself But he had got old en shaky en he had a heavy cough. So I thought I'd pat him into shape en try en trade him off. 12 I dtctond up his hcavey cough and drove him down ter town, En it was my ffvput intentions fer ter do some dealer brown. F'ei* the old horse looked the slickest en my schemes en plans were made, Po if I ran across a dealer why I'd stump him fer a trade. Well, I overtook a feller thet was in the tradin' line, HeM a younger lookin'.pellpr but in no such shape as mine. When we used the usual par'ey, such as all horse traders do, I admit our crooked stories wouldn't grace a church's pew, Ker they wouldn't become a parson ner a deacon none the less. Though they often swap their horses they don't lie so much I gue^s. I When he asked me 'bout his age, then I set my schemes afloat, En you bet 1 didn't tell him he was old enough tew vote, Couldn't tell it by his teeth — fer I had em all filed off— Had him do[ and said it did him good To see a cot pie doin' fer each other as they should, An(\ said he, I'll come and sec you as often as I can, And wo cried, both mo and Hanner, o'er the life insurance man. Yes, the pa .n' it was friendly, but it ended there yon bet. And though I've l)ecn looking for him, I haven't seen him yet ; Hut there camt a writtin' token which was worded rather frank. Which informed both me and Hanner that our notes wore in the hank. 21 And that we prepare to meet them seemed to be the chief request, And it never even mentioned the turkeys or their nest. Yes, that precious little token upset the whole year plan, For the cheese money went to pay the life insurance man. Tlie chickcTi crop was a failure, and for the turkeys, they — Well, what the foxes didn't steal, ^ot drowned in the whey, Kut I paid it every cent, Sii' ; then I made * solemn vow, And I'd like to see the agent that I'd blubber over now. I've been readin' up the prize fights, put myself in fightin' trim ; If I run across that feller, I will even up with him ; But he deserves some credit for the way he worked his plan ; I admit he is a corker— that are life insumnce man. f 2> The Old Cow Bell. I You may boast of classic music with its grace notes and its swells, Boast about your grand pianos and your high toned chiming .ells, Of your horns and harps and organs tuned up to the highest C, But the old time metal cow bell some- how has a charm for me. It restores to me fond memories, cheers my wanderings to an* fror Takes me back to home and mother, to the happy long ago, To a little rustic cottage, to the meadows in the dell, I'm a boy just for the moment, lis- tening to that old cow-bell. I remember the log stable, with its boarded gables grey, Where beneath the eaves the swallows built their cosy nests of clay ; "i Miember the old farm-barn and the shed with opening wide ' \:.'% bell some- memories, ;o an' fro» d mother, ^■es, it calls me back to childhood, to companions youne and gay, ^'o the old fai'm and the homestead with its voof moss-grown and grey ; '!o the maples and the elms, where the song bird built her neft, !^o that little turret bed-room, there to take a pleasant rest ; > the old friends and the best, to that girl sweet-heart so shy. )ft I fancy we are strolling through the woodlands she and I — Ls we pluck the nodding daises, gather ferns adown the dell, iFrom th») pasture-lands old brindle gently tinkles the cow bell. [often when the hay was making and the cattle had not come, j'Twould be late ere I would scamper off to hunt and bring them heme [Hat in hand I'd run with fleetness, my young heart so filled with fear, [Halting here and there a moment that old cow-bell just to hear — [Calling " co-boss " in my fleeing thinking it would serve to scare, [riasting many glances backwards lest things catch me unaware. {How my heart would beat with gladness as upon my ears there fell Just the faintest tinkle, tinkle of the old time metal bell. 9, to the tment, lis- ell. How it filled my heart with courage, that faint tinkle from afar, As the strains of martial music spur the soldiei*s on to war ; I Through the the thickest bush and bramble, fearlessly then I would go Just to hear that tinkling cow-bell, then I feared no woodland foe. Soon the cattle would be wending down the long and narrow lane, I behind them blithe and merry, whistling on in sweet refrtiin, I Could I but return to childhood, to those scenes I loved so well, Be a boy, go hunt the cattle, listen for the old cow-bell. Ah, the years have been so varied since I left that cottage home. Still those childhood scenes they cheer me as afar I whither roam. And a longing sweet steals o'er me, back through many years now fled, To the room beneath the rafters, to that little trundle bed. To the old friends 'round the homestead, to a boy so blithe and gay, Sharing in a mother's kindness 'round her knee at close of day. Scampering o'er the hills and meadows, through the woodlands down the dell, Run away to drive the cattle, listen to the old cow bell. You may boast of classic music with its grace notes and its swells. Boast about your grand pianos and your high-toned chiming bells, Of your horns and harps and organs tuned up to the highest C, Uut the old time metal cow bell somehow has a charm for me. 24 WHEN THEY PAINT THE KITCHEN FLOOR I can sfnnd tlir spi'i'iT^-tinic f''c;i;i- np, with the tliiiiji'Ss all ujismIc down, When tlie mcalsi ai-o always late and my Tlannor Avears a fr>wii; I don't mind bltic Monday's wa;
  • <, I can just Uiy down iuid slumber for I know thet's baby's rljiflus; 1 can stand the cows a-jnmpin' and a-f»'ettin<;^ in the coi-n, And the turkeys {jettin' lost never causes me to mourn ; These a feller quite p-ets used tit, all them thinj^sand many more. Hut it kind of knocks n)e out like when they paint the kitchen floor. That old kitchen is piy home, Sir, rainy days and every ni^Hit. And of course I like it tidy and the floor scrubbed {^-ood and white But why they should daub and paint it, try its beauty to beguile, I have never really larne.d, 'copt it was just for the style. Now I alnt no high-toned feller, just a farmer out in Leeds, And I pretty near come knowin' what an old time kitchen needs, And I'm willin' fer tew settle all the bills down at the store. But I'm hanged if I will settle for thet paint thet's on the floor. Them old pine boards, they were plenty ppood enough for wife and me, But since Jack brought his new woman it is different, you see, And the wlmen they'll be wimen, let them come from near or fer, And when the new wife she said " paint," Manner sided in with her ; // So they painted it a yeller, least-wise that's what Hanner said, And the neiglibor wimen spiff around and say they like the shade. Perhaps I'll ^et to like it maybe better than before, But at present I'm agin it — thet are paint upon the floor. Yes, they made me eat my dinner in the woodshed for a week, And they'd kind o' snap rae up like if about the fk)or I'd speak. Pointed the old sprint broom handle, put some on the old wood-box, Made me put on carpet slippers or walk over it in my socks, Painted up the back verander, then they took my poor old dog That had always slept upon it and they chained him to a log-. Lucky thing I had the deed. Sir, or they'd have put me out the door While that cussed stuff was drying on thet old farm kitchen floor. Ye?, I'd ruther have the floor all scrubbed up so good and white, Foi" it seems to me more home like when Im settin' 'round at night, Get my pipe and plug tebacker out to take my usual smoke. Dry my old grey woollen socks, jokin' with the wimmen folk, Oct my old bark-bottomed chair cocked up somewhere in a nook, Thee I can enjoy myself with the paper or a book, There the hours they steal by swiftly, maybe two and maybe four, But they seem so kind of weary since they painted the old floor. Wife, she says I'm like some heathen thet I 1.:, j'nt any soul, Thet I'd stay out in the kitchen like a badger in his hole. Course, I can't hurt Hanner's feelin's, wouldn't do it for the earth, But I wish of patent floor paint there had come a sudden dearth. Lands, I wouldn't give a corner in that kitchen by the stove For all your new fangled houses and your tix-ups by the drove, Many happy years I've lived there, hope to live there many more, But the things they seem agin me since they painted the old floor. 25 Now I think I've done my stint and share of grubbin' on the farm, And that old-time kitchen yonder for rae seems to have a charm, I've laid by a little money, guess enough to put me through. There are lots of men that's richer, but then what I have will do, And I never was a loafer, people can't call me a shirk. For the callus on these fingers tell a story of hard work, But don't think that I'm complainin' 'bout the things that's past and No I'm just agin that yeller paint that's on thet kitchen floor. oer, 26 The Pious Africander. I've fought in many lands, sir, 'gin many worthy foes, En I'm goin' ter follow old John Bull no matter where be goes ; I've been a soldier true, sir, since I was twenty-one, In fact since I was big enough I've lugged around a gun ; En I have a dozen medals that I could show tew you, I've been cheered by many people en censured by a few ; Some say I am a murderer en bear a murderous taint Fer wantin' equal rights with that Afrigander saint. He's a curious kind of critter, fer him I 'aint got no use. With his ever present Bible and his traitor flag of truce ; 1 aint nothing gin his Bible ner his quaint religious rhyme, But I don't believe in bein' saint and sinner at a time. Lands! they'll use all kinds of meanness,then they'll rant about their souls, Catch you in a barred-wire death trap then they'll shoot you full of holes ; Do you think an honest Briton should be governed by restraint, E'r thet he should court his conscience when he's fightin, with this saint. Do you think a fightin' Briton, sir, should any mercy show, Er even curb his temper when he corners such a foe ; As ler me I say go at em. never mind about abuse. Never mind his schemin' prayers ner his traitor flag of truce ; Never mind em jealous natives, it matters tiot from where they come, Let em all pitch in thet wants ter, Johnnie Bull they'll find at home ; They can blow, en boast en brag, en at Britain insults throw, But this saintly Afrigander bet your pile he's got ter go. I have fought the skulkin' Zulus in the far away Soudan. En ninety thousand natives way out at Omdurman ; Fought and run the bloody injuns in the west of Canada, Wliere John Ball has had a squabble I've been there en in the fray, I have fought the dusky Kaffirs with their sly guerilla pranks, An we've licked ten thousand Fenians belonging to the Yanks ; Fonght all kind of men en manners, ain't a making no complaint, But thet wooly Afrigander is a curious kind of Saint. 27 Say, they talk about decadence of the Briton in a sense, Wonder what they think of Buller now en little " Bobs " and French ; Wonder if they think 'thet boastin' en braggin' now en then, Ever captured Mr. Cronje and six thousiuid plucky men ; They aint got a leader 'raong cm thet would join in such a fray, Tliere's would laze about a hammock six or seven miles away, There would be some tall com plain in' more than beef would have a taint If they bad to face the bullets of this Afrigander saint. Wonder how they like the union of Britannia en her sons, Seemed ter think thet no one else but the Boers could handle guns ; Wonder how Canadians suit them which they kind of termed as crash. What about them storroin' trenches, what about their gallant dash. If you think Canucks are cowards en thet they were made to run Why you just run up agin em en I'll gamble you'll see fun, Say, they fight just like old timers, not the kind ter run er faint, Didn't mind the flyin' ballets of thet Afrigander s«int. Sir. it kind of riles me up like en I take a fightin' fit, When they say the Brits are winnin' en a loosein' all their grit ; Never say a word 'bout fightin' ner don't wait till we get through, But when we have got our hands full they will tell what they can do. ^loess I'd better warn em fellers, em are chaps that all condemn, We're accommodatin' fellers en perhaps we'll call on them, Better get your musket polished so you won't have no complaint, We'll be calloused by em ballets of thet Afrigander saint. I've fought in many battles, sir, in many different climes, I've dodged a thousand bullets en been hit a score of times ; I've fought with pesky Injuns, en warriors great en small, But this pious Afrig9,nder I allow he beats em all. Perhaps I am a murderer, but for him I have no use. En I wouldn't mind his prayin' ner his traitor flag of truce ; Hope I may get over it, and outlive this murderous taint. But this pious Afrigander is a curious kind of saint. 2^ An Old-Time Meetin' Wpnr. tew Qaaker qnarterly meeting held down at the old time place, M«>r the- old time friends an' Quakers, 'twas a wondrous time of grace. Didn*r. have ii«) h\g pipe organ fer ter sound an' swell an' peal, Didn't have no paid sopraner fer ter screech an' scream an' squeal. Didn't have no togged-up preacher, built of collar an' of cuff, With his elocutin' powers an' a lot of moderen stuff-^ Didn't have no pimpy usher fer ter bow an' scrape and smile, Fer ter fiiit witli blushin' maidens an' ter tip-toe up the aisle — Just set round on wooden benches, wasn't any cushioned pew, Wliy 'em old time wooden seat& somehow seemed to welcome yon. Wasn't any amen corner ferr ter groan o'er sins that'^ done, Wasn't any devil's corner, laughin' an' a-makin' fun, Didn't have no fellers shoutin', nor no wimmen mj>kin' show, Didn't have no big discussion 'bout the high chmtii ei' the low. Just set there in solemn silence, as in days of " Auld Lang Syne," In communion with the Spirit with our thoughts on things divine. When the Spirit moved a brother in that sacred, silent place, Then you'd hear old fashioned gospel of a never-dying grace — Nothin' high fnlutin' 'bout it, gospel fer the hungry soul, Not made up of art en grammar, but the kind that mt^kes us whole. Theh a sister, true an' tender, in a voice so sweet and calm, Told the oft repeated story of the meek and blessed Lamb, Told of how he loved the needy, how he calmed the the troubled sea, How he comforted the fishers on the shores of Galilee — Talked of unbelievin' Thomas, who the cruel wounds had seen, Talked about 'em base accusers an' poor Mary Magdalene- Spoke of Enoch, pure and patient, talked about the realms bright, Till the walls in that old chapel seemed tew bear a hallowed light — Spoke of things so pure an' lovely, things ter sooth a troubled mind. Didn't even mention brimstone, everything was calm an' kind. ^B LLJLJJJ'.?? 29 " Jiist sat there in solemn silence with our thoug-hts on tilings divine." Tolfl US how tlie grojit. Jehovah healed the sick and raised the dend HjuI no earthly liabitjition, knew not where to lay his hcMd — Didn't h.'jve no earthly mansion, in a common nianifer born, Dwelt anionjr the poor and lonely, feasted on the jfrowii)' oorn - Didn't have no towerin' temjile, with st»nrd {fiass an:l ar 'em from their waergons hummin' em old metres of the hymns- See the good old Quaker mothers in quaint bonnet an' drab shawl, 'Twas among 'em I found Hanner, she the fairest was of all. In a little now d>*ab shaker, I could see her sittin' there. An' her little chubby features looked so handsome, young en fair — She was sittin' by her mother, sweetest thing I ever see. As she peeked aroun' that shaker fer ter get a peek at roe. Something then disturbed, aroused me, an' my musin's put to end. An' my hand was clasped in friendship by a kind old Quaker friend- That s the Quaker's benediction wishin' well to thee an' thine, Seems ter be so kind and God-like, be so lovin' and divine. I li Talk about your new religion with its pomp and stylish ways, Doesn't seem ter be in union with the grea^ Creator's praise — With the hir.*h paid priest an' parson, with its creed and social ring, Where the Saviour is but mentioned and the monied man is king — With the mouldin' all a-glitter, spires that point toward the sky, Plainly, they're no poor man's temple, couldn't build 'em up so high. Go ye to the cities, see them, there they lift their gilded head. While beneath their mighty shadows little children cry for bread, An' the parents of those children with their faces wan an' thin, Labor fer the wealthy members for a. wage as low as sin. Now I ain't a-criticisin' ner a finding fault an' such. An perhaps I am a-sayin' 'bout this matter far tew much. If I am, you'll please forgive me in the good old fashioned way, An' perhaps things will look brighter when I have anotlier say. An' remember, I ain't sayin' they're unchristianlike an' small, Fer, a-talkin' things iii general there's good an' bad in ail. An' of coarse I've gut my failin's am no better than the rest, But to do the little good I can' I'll try my livin' best, An' of the new rellj^ons, perhaps I'm far behind. But I'd like my future anchor moulded like the good old kind. "4*, 31 The Buildin' Committee. Thet fine cliapel standin' yondor, on tliet little raise of pfi'ound, It l)as been a kind of light-liouse tew the district iiere around. It's a kind of ancient relic of old-tiuie relig:iuus praise, Hn a monument to piety en prayer of other days. It was rouffh en nnpreten^ious, nothin' bout it ter beguile, iJaili to stand the winri en weather more en it was built for style. lOn the pioneers thet built it, en with reverence held it dear, Thev arc rcstin' from their labors in a little church-vard near. It had jQfot tew Io(wn. 'Hout the only thing of credit, en tor say looked kinder go»d, Was the grassy little hill-top wljc.e the uite en( tew fix the chapel as a christian people shouh' Then we formed a Church ('onunittee ler ^ew plan en overstc, Hut it turned out thet wo formed it for te'v meet en disagree Some were for a buildin' greater, tearin' down e»i l)nil;Hn now, v)tlic?'8 thought with some odd patchin' i\w old hii utnic it Would do. Deacon t^elfwlll kind of hlnteu, if they we u. te • '.ct-.iln down, Why they " just could do the payln', for \\v wouldti'i ji^lve a poun' " Deacon Show he thought it In^tter ter add on ai.jther spire, Deacon Dry he thougiit it cheaper for tew build the walls up higher. D«'acon (irowl he wanted this en Deacon Crank he wanted thet — Didn't come to a decision, though a year or moro they met 32 Deacon Good lie made a model, had the ehiircli a-lookin' great — The Ccnmittee didn't like it, said it wasn't up-to-date. Then they held another meetin', burnin' wood en burnin' light — Sakes ! the thing got ter be chronic, g'^4. tew meetin' every night. (Jot tew geeiii' en a-hawin', pullin' cross-ways all the time, Till snbsc'ibcrs got disgusted, said they wouldn't give a dime. (yot ter piillin' at the Pialtcr, got ter kickin' in the stall. Went tew balkin' in the traces, didn't fix the church at all. Now the preacher was a mortal thet you don't meet every day, Never practiced modifyin' anything he had tew say. Hacked with courage his convictions, in a way not always smooth, Kn in scornin' politicians guess he told tew many truths, No he wasn't no deceiver, wasn't no sweet singin' bard, lie was a good-meanin' feller, but he ment it rather hard. Course, the preacher, he would build it, estimatin' on the cost, Hut when he would make a motion, why, of course the motion lost. The Copiinittee kept a-meetin' until Conference came 'round, Hut tiie fixiii' of the chapel wasn't gainin' any ground. So, the preacher went tew ConferiMice, en as his time was spent, Why he .^ot another cii'cuit, en a new num here was sent. Didn't have no more religion then the one we had before, He'd a better stock of foresight, though, en j)olicy in store lie was (piite a different feller, en right from the very start, lie commenced tew build a temple right upon the people's heart. Kn I guess the other feller had been giviu" him some tips, Fer the lixin' of tliet chapel, why, it never passed his lips. Kii he preached such flowery sermons, in a manner nnck en mild, Thet the nu'mlK^rs they took tew him just lik«» any lovin' child. Preached away until thet lOastt-r, when the wonuMi all turned out, Then he preached a sei'inon fer 'em, give it to '«'m goed en stout. 'Twas a millinery openin', kind of a dressmakers' show — lied prepared a huildin' sermon, en tlitit day he let it go. Said he liked tew see the people have their homes en clothin' line, Kn he prayed fer a ih»w chapel, so thet all eouhl ho in line ; Spoke ai)ont the worth of money, said you might be worth a town, iJut when it canjo down to dyin", twouldn't buy a starry crown ; .•53 Preached t\ very touchin' sermon tew ns nil tliet Easter mVht, Va\ he broui^iit tip fer exaiiiph; Mie |>0( r widow en her niiu- : Touched the hearts of all the women, moved tew tears the stinj>>' men, Kn they started in tew fixin' the old ciiftpel there en then. I' ivi th»'t never jifave n nickel loosed their purse string's the next day, }J;u. no difference 'bout it costin', they were leadv fer tew pay. .\< fe." me. I aint too clever, ner i aint too yra-^pin' bad, After thet 'ere Easter sermon Ed a j^iven half I had. liand ! the women took tew workin', en of course, Sir, j;8 you know, When th(! women take ter drivin', why, the najf has j^ot ler ji,^o. When it j^'cts rijfht «lown tew schemin workin' out a knotty i)lan, Why, you take, a workin' womHU en tdu'll bent a brainy num. Ves, they fixed the church ui» handsome— See it fjlitter in the sun I Sakcs! they never (jait a-workiti' after they had once be^^un ; Never had a disafjreement, never had a fuss nor r(»w, Worked t( ,'<.'tlier like a farni team pnllin' on tlu* faller plow; (ioi the: ehnreii all done en pnid for, Hrus«v Is carpet o\\ the Hoor, I'ut in pT' at Tiiemorial winders, silver platii/'on the door ; Krci-i-Ma ,'\)! ihf walls en eeilin's in tln^ lastest of desij;ii — 'Tin a c\!.''}i': U'»v the village, tell you, Sir, it's lookin' line. E.I a prouder lot of people 'twould be precious hard tew find. Enderstand, I am not meanin' tliey'n^ a snol)l)y, stuck up kind. You ffo over there t»!W me«'tln', they'll give you the liiu-st pew. En the good, kind-hearted nu'mbers will an inteiest take in yrs tliat ten tliousand miles away ; You could foil the schemes of Krujfor, of .^oulwMt, e!i the h.t ; That's If you had 'em eorniired In your little garden i)lot. Yes wo are the greatest fellers fer ter tliip our wings and crow ; But it takes a Hghtin' feller fer ter face a Hghtin' foe. 41 ZG It's a miffhty easy matter fer ter voice the praises snng-. En ter kill Old Scliemin' Joubert en his army with hi? tonj;;iie Lands, most anv common feller he can write a "^ jingo " rhyme, But it takes a clever feller to chip in with a dime Fer ter help out " Cannck Tommy, " for if he should lose his life. It will come in mighty handy for his baby or his wife, So we'll set the hat a goin' en ve'Il pass it to en fro Fer ter help out figlitin' "Tommy " that has gone ter saee the foe. It's a mighty easy matter fer ter shout "God Save the Queen, " And about the present Government ter print things low and mean 'Tis a very easy matter fer ter pull the patriot string ; But this goin' into battle is a different thing. You can write your Jingo verses an' sing them o'er and o'er, They won't civilize a Kaffir, nor scare a plucky Boer. You may get your " Rule Britania," an' sing it till your hoarse. But it won't scare Uncle Krnger nor annihilate his force. It's a verj' easy matter fer ter stay at home en brag, En a deep-dyed editor tor howl a))out the tiag ; He may waste for his paper an' through its columns blovi% But it takes u tightin' fellor fer ter face a fightiu' foe. 37 'some FOLKS THEY'RE ALUS COMPLAININ' Some folks they are alus complainiir 'bout crops en fsirniin"' en sucli — Ther's either too little of this or that, er }iltopy, keep a-^rowlin' from nilty and love, too many teachers in schools, An over-production '-? ignorance en a wholi lot too many fools. S8 Xow vrlxHt IS the nse of complainin' en seoldin en makin' a fass. If the good Lord is running the matter, what need it be bothering" as ? In this world there's a bud and a blossom for every thistle en thorn, En fer every darit cloud that arises there's afus a beam of light. Though the night may be dark en gloomy, there's alus a morning bright. And fer all the harsh sayin's and doin's there's as many as good you'll rtiuf . Kn fer all the bad people a livin' there's many that's good en kind. Thei'e's no use of ihis eomplainin' 'bout tlie world en its different ways, There'll alus be nights dark en gloomy en always be bright summer days There'll alus be pleasure en gladness,^ there'll alus be sorrow and eare. Then why should we borrow of trouble^ each mortal rs sure oJ his share *> Let us be of good fellow ship ever, en scatter kind words with a smile, En this old world it will be better foi* us stayin' 'round it a while. For the good Lord is runnin' the matter, what need of it botherin' us? Wc never can change it by seoldin' er growiia' er maklu' a fuss. 39 The Divorce. Thirty years ago September, harvest was at hijrh tide, Hanner Anally consented fer ter be my loving bride. She like all good lookin' wimen had her eyes on other men, En fer fear that I might lose her, why I took her thar en tlien. So we drove down to the parson's, didn't make no spread of course. En he hitched us two up double fer the better er the worse ; Hitched us up tew plow life's furrow, prayed fer blessin's from above. Bid us bear each others burdens en tew cherish en tew love. Now, I wasn't of the richest, I'd a rig en Sunday suit, With a sixty acre farm en a little cash ter boot ; Ner I wasn't very pretty, wasn't of the handsome kind, But a more respected feller 'twould be mighty hard ter find. My future it looked gilded, en my present it was fair. En my morals they would average with any fellers there. Talk about a merry farmer with his heart a-flanni with glee, It was I when she decided fer ter harness up with me. So we settled down together on thet sixty acre farm. En the things around took to iier just as if she had a charm. All the cattle follow'd her from the pasture land away. En my team out in the stable, when they'd hear her voice would neigh. Talk about life's happy mornin' with its sunshine en its Howers, If there's such a thing fer mortals that are honeymoon was ours ; En it lasted quite a while, sir, happiness from year tew year, En a little stnnger came along thet happy home tew cheer. Think I told you 'bout me workin' 'fi "e thet little stranger come. Why, I hadn't worked at all, sir, then I fairly made things hum ; Worked en saved up all my money, worked from morn till day grew dim. En I lived all in the future thought of no one else but him. Why thet cunnln' little urchin, beat the world how do did grow, En it used ter tickle wife en I ter hear him coo en crow ; But thet blessed little youngster didn't with us long abide, For we made an idol of him en I guess thet's why he died. 40 Then things had a different seemin', wife began to mourn and fret, En though years have past en gone, I believe she mourns him yet ; En I Icind of lost my bearin's, though I tried ter do ray part, But the world all seemed agin me en I didn't have no heart. When things brightened up a little, en I could the better see, The school teacher of the district wanted fer ter board with me. Well, I thought that it would cheer us, so I bid the teacher come ; Little thought that by so doin' I was ruinin' ray home. So the teacher boarded with us full of manners en of grace ; Soon there was a change in Hanner, I could see it in her face, En it kind of built me up like when I saw he had a cheer Fer that broken-hearted mother en the wife I loved so de ir. Well I kmder took new heart, sir, when I saw in wife the change, But it took me all my time ter keep my jealousy in range, p]n things were gettin' cross-ways en one evenin', by-theby, I thought I caught 'em courtin' a little on the sly. Well, I could'nt curb my temper, so I raised a row of course ; Then thing* went ter go backwards from the better ter tho worse. Wife she acted cross and surly, she was distant like en cold. En she never even kissed me, as she did in days of old Things kept pullin' en a-haulin' nigh on ter a year I think, En ter put the cap-sheaf on 'era, why I started iri ter drink. Sir, it wasn't long I tell you 'fore the bailiff had a lock On my little farm and dwelling, one day he sold off the stock. Well, when I arose next mornin' I was feelin' ruther down, En tew get some more dam-nation, why I started fer the town ; As I went out through the kitchen, wife she started for to cry, En she murmured something ter me en it sounded like good-by. Course the teacher he had left us ; curse the day he ever came ; Curse the very ground he walks on ; curse his art, and curse his name ; There was only one thing saved him, that was, sir, my love fer her ; But fer that I'd followed him en I'd shot him like a cur. Well, I spent a merry day, sir, en when long dark night had come, I, the once respected farmer, like a beast then staggered home ; Thus I reached my home now rained, staggered through the kitchen door, Never eaw thet house so gloomy as it was thet night before ; 41 No tea-kettle there a-singin', in the cook stove not a spark, Nothing- there tew cheer a feller, everything was still en dark ; I stood there en thought a minute, then I tried ter find a light, Thought perhaps she'd gone a-visitin' tew her mother's fer the night. When I got the light aburnin' then I started up the fire. En ter see my way the better turned the lamp a little higher ; Got my bottle of damnation from my bar-room scented coat, Went ter set it on the table, when 1 spied a little note. It was in my wife's hand-writin' en the words were rather few, Sayin' : " John, you've gone tew ruin en I guess thet I'll go tew, I will try to love another, true I have been made a dupe, Still I love you, love you dearly ; you'll forgive me, John, I hope." Can you realize my grief, sir, did you ever feel earth's stings, Just as if a sword o^ steel was a-cuttin' your heart strings, I lived longer in a minute than a man of thrice my years, ♦Vith my whiskey brain a-reelin' en my eyes a-streamin' tears ; 42 Now, I've told you how I loved her, how she was my heart's dclifrht, Why, I never knew how I loved her till I read her note that night. I was sober in an instant, in the fire the bottle flun^^, Swore thet if I died with thirst it v/ould never touch my tongue. j ; Then I made another vow, sir, thoug-h 1 nursed this bitter pain, Hut I vowed thet by my honor I would win her back again. I forgave her all thet ni^ht, sir, why my heart was all aflame, P^or in suramin' up the natter it was I thet was ter blame. Fer I got ter be a miser with a g"eed fer gain en gold. En I never even dreamt it, but 'twas me thet had got cold. Why. it was her dear young nature ter have som'un here ter love, Siie was just a-lovin' spirit only lent me from above. Well I didn't sleep that night sir, to my creditoes did go, En they everyone decided to give me another show ; Then I went tew work again, sir, en I met the payments all, En I nearly cleared the debt off, in a year from that e'r fall ; But I couldn't be contented with my chattels and estates En my lovin' wife a-grubin' fer her livin' in the States, So I vowed I'd go en find her, though I feared she would decline. But I ment ter court her over en invite her tew be mine. So I started on my mission, goin' here en goin' there, En I got a trace of her in Dakota state somewhere Then I got a chilly letter from a lawyer, cold of course. It informed tha^ my wife was a-suin' for divorce ; So I started for that lawyer's thinkin' I would meet her there, En I'd lay ray case before 'em in a manner fair en square ; Course I knew he'd get my money, but I didn't care fer that 'Twas tew win my wife en loved one thet's what I was drivin' at. Well I got tew that ar city, with its great big crowd en show, En I wandered up the street, scarcely knowln' where ter go. Ran across a towerin' buildin' filled with folks en lots of noise. An outside a gang of loafers en a lot of noisy boys, Asked 'em what was goin' on there, en thay said a court of law Where the married people settle up their little points of jaw. Then I kind of sauntered in, sir, hardly got inside the hall, When a big blae-coated feller out my name did loudly call. 1 4^ iffht, •ht. [Then I marched up to the front, ftr, jast like any soldier b>Id, For the prize that I was after far more pro/Cious whs tlian fjfold : JTIiere hefoi-e me stood ray loved one, ready there her plea to nuike, lint site fell into my arnij, sir, and I thouffht her heart would UreaU, ! She was wrecked with arrlcf en sorrow, with distraction she was wild. En she sobbed there on my bosom, just like any punished child. Talk about your family unions when your folks come home ter stay. They ain't in it with thet union held in that court houswn fine. En I'm fall of many others en a Solomon in my line. 44 The RAG'MUFFfN's Prayer, (a CHRISTMAS STORY) Far II way in a beautiful city, where is splendor and wealth "ind estate, Where is found the abode of the poor, and tlie pfilded liome of the great Where the ceaseless cadence of commerce beats tioie to the trade-hammer's strolie. And the great tall factory chimneys are corstantly vomiting smoke- Where the toilers slave at their benches for tlie life-saving wages they give, Where the one great half of the people care not how the other half live, Where the clang of the bell or the whistle shrieks out on the chill morning air. And awakens the slaves from dream-land back to a world of care. Just back from the street, down an alley, where the poor and the wretched abide, Where misery goes to make merry and criminals run for to hide. Where at midnight the concert is jolly, where the wretch and the outcast entice And smother the last spark of virtue In iniquity, curses and vice — ' Where the knaves divide up their plunder, and petty thieves skulk from thd tuils, Where riot stands ready to kindle as gamblers light over the spoils — Surrounded by sin and the sinning, in u tumbled down tenement row, With a brother and sister some older, lived poor Mttle Hag'muffln Joe. Joe's parents were dead and were 8leei)ing far out in a Potter's field lot. But the kindness and love of his mother little Joe had never forgot When the spring it returned with its flowers, littleJoe would wan.'.v. When winter's chill blast nipped the willows and flowers he loved for the while, lie pi'.yed with the lads in the alley, and brightened the place with his smile. 45 His sister sewed 'round for a living, but lier wag-e was uncertain and low And altliough surrounded by vices her lieart was as pure as the snow. His brother was just a poor " sweater " that toiled for a wag-c low as sin In the factories of trusts and combines where the slaves throw their life's blood in. The kind hearted folks of the alley, they loved and befriended |X)or Joe, And had nick-named the little raj»'mulfin the Sunshine of the Tumble-down Kow, He would chide their misdoings with kindness, and outcasts and o'iniinaU they Would softly steal up the attic and list to the rag' muffin pray. e One night came the sweet sounds of pleading, they silently stole up th stair. Little Joe, kneeling down by the cot side, was lisping this innocent prayer: "Old Santy, I thought I would ask you and, good Panty, please let me know, " When you come to this great big city, will you drive down to Tumble- down Row, " I ain't got no father nor mother to buy me no nice little sleigh, " And, Santv, the toys that I play with are some that was thrown away. " H you'll only drive down through the alley, let me look at your toys and deer, " i known it will make me so happy and I'll be a good boy next year. O " Littl* Joe, kneeling down by the cot>iiide, was liMping thia innocent pmyer." 46 " And, Santy, if you can afford it, bring: sister, so kind and so trne, " A nice little liat with a fejitlier or a nice little jaclcet of blue. *• And, dear Santy Claus, please remember my dear good brother, tht Jim, '' If it ain't askin' too much, dear ^anty, bring- something along for mm. " If you have any toys that's left over, or any that's broken and worn — • " You know' Santy, I ain't parti'lar— a little shell drum or a horn, *' A sled or a kite or a shinny, or maybe a nice little knife, " I will 'pen my word, dear S«inty, be a good little boy all my life." It was holiday time In the city and Christmas was drawing near. The gladdest time of the season, the merriest time of the year. In the great cathedral vestry, the Christmas carols were sung, And down from the frescoed arches the ivy and holly were hung. The memorial windows were lighted, the altar festooned with care With bcautiiul lilies and roses, their fragrance filling the air. The silvery chimes in the steeple rang out a harmonious strain That floated away oer city and echoed again and again. The streets were nil of a bustle, and from out the great thoroughfare Could be heard the shrill pipe of the news-hoy as l)e whistled a popular afr. The novelty stores were in splendor and high pretty toys they were j)ik'd, And everything there jmt in order to please the heart of a child. The shops they were all of a glitter, the windows they gaily were dressed, And the cliildren to look at the treasures, their noses against them presst'd. There were playthings of every description for the dear little girls and boys, Skates, bats, base-balls, and shlnneys, and dolls that would make a noise. Now the kind hearted folks of the alley, being touched with little JooV prayer, Had fixed up an r)Id junker's window and had an old Santy CUmn there, liittlc toys were hung 'round in abundance to please and delight the child, And picture books printed in color— little .loo with delight he was wild. And when the old window was lighted with tissue and toys It looked gay. They dressed up the junker as Santy and bid hlni give them away. The jolly klnd-heart(>d old junker loved the children all In the row. And A nice" little present he'd lx>uglit for the favorite, " yunshlney Joe." The children were gathered nronnd Idm to rec<«lve a nice 1>ook or a toy And little J(hi next to the window was laughing and crying for j(»y. The junker, ditiguiseal And the man that does the labor gets the small end of the (hull. I can't understai.d why preachers preach of money day by day, Leave a hard-up congregation for a call to higher j»ay. Don't helieve they have considered 'bout " the lilies liokv they gr<»vv," (lUess that visrse was calculated for the preacher long ago. Can you tell why n«en worth millions keep on grasping all in reach. And the most of politicians never practice what they preuch? These, sir, are some knotty problems my grey noddle can't detine, Hut perhaps they're not Intt^uled to be in the eonimon line Well, theni in the dally papers, you can see them any d'ly, And there is po act of council why 1 shouldn't have my say. I've a right to my opinion and my deep-dyee didn't have much use. Fer as far as they could see me they would hoist their flag of truce ;: Now en then a wiley stranger down around my farm would stray,. But when I got things to workin', why he didn't care to stay ;' When my guardhouse got to bleachin' en the wordy war got thick. He would then get in a hurry and retreat with double quick. ** Loved music same as me." o3 Hut I had a little weakness in ivg-ard to mekidies, And most any kind of musk it would touch my syinpfithtes', To my only dau^ht/er M«ry, finer g-iil you never see. She's good lookintr like lier inotlKM- and loved niuskj same «s nie ', Slua was prcssin' fier an or^an cr pi^no i^tiier hard, And between her en tier mother, why they threw mo off .,iv jfuard; So I went to town one evening", just ter see what I c»iuM do. Sir, I'll bet two hundred agents called m just a ws, Then they sung: a^l kinds of dities, seemed they never would j;et through, They all had a gift of music and they gave us all they knew. There was organs en pianers in the parlor and the hall, And a ballad singin' agent representin' each en all ; They were flirtin' with my daughter and her mother good en stout, And wereeatin' of my victuals, why I thought they'd eat me out; Why, the thing was gettin' desperate for the house was overrun, And the neighbors they were laughin' and a-heli)in' on the fun, So I gently told my wimmen they had better make their pick, Then I'd rid the rural district of the varmiii mighty quick. Well, they wasn't long in choosin' one of which the agent said For the only " Paddywhiskers "it was moddlcd and was made ; I ain't certin' 'bout the name sir, er I get thiugs mixed you see, If it wasn't " Paddywhiskers," why it sounded so to me ; Said it was endorsed by Toffey and great prime donnas they Also used that make planer their accompaniments to play ; Said he sold one to the Premier, put one in at Ridoau Hall, Claimed they'd have no other music when they had their fancy ball. We decided he could leave it just a week er tew on trial, And his gilden recommcndins we would put em all on Hie Then we held a little parley a? to how and when we'd pay, And then this genius of deception he politely went away. ^ * 54 Scarcely was he out of bearin' when another feller came. Went ter praisin' his pianer in a manner much the same ; Made such fun of our selection, said of it we'd made a fizz. And thet he could easy proTe it by a lady friend of bis. So he introduced a damsel en she started in to play. And I see thet their pianer sounded better rigbt away ; Guess it was the way she played it as I afterwards did learn. She was paid a large commission by the musical concern ; But she got in my good graces, fer she had a winnin' way, Took to Mary like a mother, said she'd teach her how ter play. Said she'd come and make a visit, give her music lessons free, And if I had no objection make a player out of me. Why, she held out such inducements thet were far before the rest. And had proved thet their pianer was superior and the best. That is in r^ard to sounin' tho' it had no finer case, So we moved the first selected and we put theirs in its place. As I made a little payment, for I had a little money by. Thought I caught the girl a winkin' kinder " with the other eye," And the agent smiled so sweetly as he pocketed the dough. Lands I the girl she up en kissed me just as if I was her beau. Well, they left us rather cheery, and we just got settled down, When there came a little message from a lawyer in the town ; It was worded rather pointed in a cool commandfn' style, Askin' pay fer thet pianer thet the feller left on trial ; Slated I had not reported, and as thirty days had flown, I had best send in my papers or come in and ante down ; So I went to see my lawyer, just ter find out what ter do. En he said " I guess old feller, 'em ere sharks have rattled you " Course he said I might out-wind 'em, but t'would cost me very sore, 'Bout as much.as the pianer an perhaps a little more ; Said I might be *' vindicated," but advised me as a friend, For tew keep out of the law courts, for you never know their end j Said he'd do his best ter settle up the thing with my consent, Which he did for twenty dollars, never chargin' me a cent. Now, they say hard things of lawyers, givln' 'em an awful name, While admitting tbey are scattered, some are honest just the same. 55 1 believe when Father Gabriel trumpets for the holy dead, Thee the lawyer will be standin' somewhere 'round about the head ; Course I know there skinners 'niongf 'em just like preachin' ^ood en bad, But I've found good friends amongf 'era, 'bout the best I ever had. As for 'em are agent fellers, there ain't no phice bad enough, And I only hope there's brimstone or some oiher hotter stuff ; Hope thct ril be overseer of them thievin' agent ghouls, Kn I'll fret some imp a-rakin' over them the hottest coals. Now, I've often heard it stated that in all things great and small. There's a woman implicated at the bottom of it all ; They're the source of all our blessings, may ii. erring cause us woe, But they do more right than wronging and they're loving tliafe I know. I believe in that are doctrin', with it. Sir, I quite agree, Tlio' my wimmen caused the trouble they are ever deai'to mo ; Why, I wouldn't be a hintin' ner a scoldin' 'bout thet trade. Wouldn't wound ner hurt their feelin's for all the piancrs made. ^ r.« '>♦> Black Sheep Jim As I've travelled oni life's journey I have had my downs and ups, I have lasted of its pleasures, drunk of trouble's deepest cups. Had a fair to iniddlin' fortune, sometimes didn't have a cent, Owned a hoiue and shared it's comforts, then a^ain I had to rent. I have been a steady worker, stickin' to it ni^ht and morn, Yes, in fact, I've been a worker since the day that I was born. Hut I ve had a lovin' helper in ray ^ood and faithful wife, She has been jiy constant blessinjjf and the sunshine of my life. When the murky clouds would gather, every ray of hope erase, She would brijrhten the surroundings by her kind and loving face. I don't advertise ray troubles as you would a district fair, Fer I don't think folks would thank rae, don't believe they'd even care. Hut I have a little story 'bout our Jim, and he's our boy, Once he was our darkest trouble, now he is our brightest joy. We were blest by three dear children, and 'twas natural that we (lOt ter thinking they the smartest this old world did ever see. Jenny went ter Ladies' College, Jack he went tew Grammar School, Jim lie said he guessed he'd " kinder stay at hum' an* be the fool." We worked hard to bring 'em up, sir, en tew keep for 'em a home. Thinking they would be a comfort maybe in the years to come. Jenny learned to play the organ, Jack he learned to parse and write, Jim he learned the curse of lessons, learned to drink then brawl and tight. Hut it wasn't Jim a flghtin' it was rum in every brawl, For when he was Jim and sober he was kind and good to all. Well, he got so awful shiftless that he wouldn't do a chore, And one night \/hile in my temper why I turned him out of door. Hut his mother she stuck to lum said she wouldn't from him part. 'Till Hhe found the combination to unlock his wayward heart. If ther is a balm for mortals, sweet and pure as from above, You will find it in the sweetness of a patient mother's love. When her ey-es were blind through weeping and her heart with shame was 80IXS, Sir, she seemed to love him better than she ever did before. She would pray for him so earnest, nurse him with the greatest care, 57 Hout the only hope I harbored was thur, woninn s CHrnest i)r«yer. Hut there came a wave of sorrow and it froze my ye|-y soul, For the sheriff came one morning tellin' tis onr Jim liad stole. Leastways so it was suspected someone had robbed fi^riner Grey, And our Jim with sartin colleagues hurriedly hud run away. Did you ever taste of trouble drinks its drejrs r>f bitter gall, Why the burden 'twould have been lig-liter had I lost the children all. VVife'and I disgraced, dishonqred, wlun we hoped for joy and |)ride, Sir, I almost wished her buried and I sleeping by her side. V.vswy prespect dulh'd arid blighted eveiy feeling numb and dead, .Ml tiu; woild it seemed against us everv spark of hope had (1<'d. Wif(^ she sobbed like any infatif, thought her poor heart would break, Tried my very best to comfort and cheer up for her sake. She would not believe the story tho' it caused her bitter grief, Said she knew her Jim was reckless but he never was a thief. " And he walked right in aqd stood there holding out his hand to nu>." 58 When a story once gets goin' course it never loses ground, En' in just a little season it had travelled miles around. All the neighbors they grew distant didn't sympathize ner cheer, En' they'd meet the other children with a mocking kind of sneer. Jack en Jenny proud of spirit didn't want around to stay, So I mortgaged the old humstead got 'em money to go 'way. Went away to Manitoba, soon had troubles of their own. Left the load of debt and sorrow here to wife and I alone. Never heard a word from Jim, sir, through the many years which fled. He almost Ixicame forgotten, I had give him up for dead. Heard he was in Colorado, heard some one had seen him there, Tried my very best to find him but I couldn't anywhere. Wife and I toiled on together in a drear haU-hearted way, With that mortgage gnawing at us growing poorer every day. Made us scratch to pay the interest for it wasn't very small. By and by we failed completely had to lose our precious all Mr. Bailiff came one morning and nailed up his bill of sale, And he sorter kinder hinted wife and I should be in jail. Said our family had a record, spose ho hinted at our Jim, Then I told him were I younger I would mop tlie earth with him. Said I'd better mop the debt off then I might commence to blow, If I didn't in a fortnight from the place I'd surely go. Tlien he Saying th^ Did he stej Why the Jim got v\i And the h\ They're cc Then we'll This, sir, i| Once he al I don't go Ner I ain'l I don't go But there Well the night before the sale, sir, my wife en' I were feelin' sore, Settin' there in sober silence when a rap cama at the door. Wife she went and drew it open, saw her o'er her glasses stare, When a stranger asked politely If John Bolllngbrook lived there. Mother said I was the person which perhaps he wished to sec, And he walked right in and stood there holding out his hand to mo. Th tght he looked kinder rather familiar, but the light was rather dii. , Father, said ho kind of softly, don't you know your Black Sheep Jim. Wife she fell upon his bosom, laughing, weeping In her joy. Crying, that hor prayers were answered, Heaven had returned her lM)y. Tttlk about that blbln union when they killed the fatfed calf. Why they didn't start to welcome, wasn^t glad as wo by half. Course wa didn't have much victuals ner no jeahms son with jeers, But wo gave to him a banquet In the form of joyous tears. [Soon he handed me a paper which I knew .nt very sight, It was that are cursed mortg^ige, he Jiad paid It off that night. 59 Tlicn he gave lue other papers scarcely before I could him thank, Saying they secuf'ed my credit for five thousand in the bank. Did he steal I heard you ask me, bless you never stole a dime, Why the chap that done the thieving he was caught and done his time. Jim got rich in Colorado working in a silver mine. And the boys that went off with him they are there and doin' fine. They're comin' home next summer, fer tew see the folks onci^. more. Then we'll hold a grand reception down at Simpson's grocery store. This, sir, is my snnple story 'bout our boy, that Black Sheep Jim, Once he all but had my curses, now I almost worship him. I don't go much on religion nor prayer meetio's an' that sort, Ner I ain't one of 'em mortals that are given to exhort. I don't go much on the preachers, fer their sermons never eare, liut there surely is a ransom for a christian woman's prayer. 60 THE TRIP OF THE SUNSET LIMITED. (a railroad story.) ff Awfty np the lino in the monntains where the road is winding- and wild Jim Riley, the driver, was stationed, there he lived with \m wife and child; He came here among- us a strang-erand he hired on the "overland " roatc, And he was a capital driver, as good as was ever turned out. Riley's wife was a railroader's daughter, a millionaire's daughter they said. But she fell mad in love with the driver and they ran away and got wed ; They sient Riley up in the mountains to run on the rocky divide. He g-ot a permit from the company to allow on the engine bis V)ride. 'Twas the end of a west division where an engine was held in reserve, And Jim was in charge and her driver, he knew (*v(>ry trestle and curve ; Jim's wife, it was said, was his eqnal ; she could throttle, reverse and could brake. And many times Jim was heard boasting that far bettta* time she could make. She could force up the grade to the summit and down with the greatt^t control And the mogid seemed at her bidding with all of its ponderous sotil, 8he knew it from headlight to tender, she had gamboled tht^ honeymoon tln're, Jim called her the master mechanic when making- a needed repair. 'Twas a eoM dreary night in I^'ceuiIxM", a snowstorm was thiekening fast; The storm-breeding, snow-covered mountains were tu'eathing their Ititterct blast ; The " Limited " train on its journey with its burden of touriHts and freigli* l'ull<>d into that little way station ami nearly an hour sIm' was late; Willi h( r engine, a light one disabh>d, her drivt-r eourplainod of his ills, At best neither he nor his iMigiiu^ could eope with the storm or the liilh, The conductor awakened Jim's fireman, bid him put the " old mogul i" right," For said ho "she'ji in for a saunttir up over the mountain to-night." He bade liut whei lie was V near S^)oke up The con goin Said all l itsb Jim lifte( Said he, Just tak( En' 'em I The cond Said he. The won " Don't r Just Irty thi-o And |)er •TJlgo,' liut not i She ivtlr And app With a ii She said, There sh WlH^n th nigl He was I Kor fear The moj Aw'iitinj Hit air The firei 61 Tie bade him hitch on and make ready " Til go and get Riley," he said, lint when ho arrived at the cottage poor Jim Wouldn't hold up his liead ; lie was weak<}ned and ill with a fever and his wife by the bed standing near Spoke up to the startled man saying it's all off to-night Jake I fear. The conductor made known his position, he'd some magnates on board going west. Said all things against him were turning when his train should be running its best ; Jim lifted his head from the pillow and pomting the man to his wife Said he, " Jerry she'll take you ovei' and give you the run of your life ; Just take hor along with you Jerry and don't tell anyone, see, En' 'em big bugs what's a tourin' they never will know but W» me." The conductor 8t<'!pped up in amazement like A man coming out of a trance, Said lie, " If the Misnis will go Jim, I'm hanged if I don't take the chance." Tlie woman cried out all a tremble, •' Oh I couldn't leave baby and Jim." *' Don't never mind me nor the baby," said Riley, " I'll take care uf him. Just lay him right here by my pillow he'll sleep this long dreary night through, And |)erhap8 the station-house woman will come over and care for us too." *' I'll go," cried the brave little woman, " I'll go with the help from Above, liut not for the railway magnates, but I'll go for the ones that I love." She ivtlrt^d to the low cottage ehnmber to ttx her disguise up as Jim And ap|KMix!d in almost an instant, and lm»king exactly like him ; With a good-night kiss for her loved ones and a faitiwell again and again She said, " I'm ready for duty," and they hurri^nl away to the train. There she climbed up Into the cabin and took Riley's place at the right, \VIh!Ii tile fireman 8|Me guaid : And rolling over the switches she swept lik*' tli(^ wind through il,e mimI ; Old railroaders back at the station shook their heads at the IJniittd's flight, .\nd sal(> wjis a Hush of excitement — it scenu-d as if the man had gone wild. "(Jreat Heavens," li«^ cried, "its my Mary, my darling, my long lost child." He bent ovei" the form now so lifeless, and bathed the pah; faci' with his tears; Long ago he'd forgiven hei* marringe and to find her had hunted for years; She began to show signs of n'viving and opened her eves with affright, ; ''>li. there was joyous reunion in that railway station that night. Ni \t day she went iiat'k to her loved oiu's, to tUo. little frame cott'ige afar: Ibit not in the cab of an engine -she rode in a grand spei-ial ear : The nilllifinnire magnate went with her, he was going u> j,'et drivt'r .lim And tak(^ him again to his railroad and make an oHieial of him. 05 This, sir, is my railroad story, and a thrilling one, too, for your life ; Should you doubt it, or think I am lyings, just write and ask Jim and his uife. They're living: down east in a palace, and the fireman, well, lie's with them yet. And also the old battered mog-ul, lest they become proud and forjfet. Her steel is as brig:ht as a sabre, but the scars of that nigfht still remain — Her headliffht is battered and broken, her pilot is twisted in twain ; Here's success to the knights of the engine, may their guide be that from Above, The best of good cheer for their babies and regards for the women they love. As they're nearing the end of life's journey, and watch for the great signal light, May it not be colored nor cloudy, but burning brilliant and white. '4 06 GRAHAM GREEN'S EXPERIENCE. Tliroci years ag^o to-day, wife, we moved up to the town — ThrcB years aflfo we, well-to-do, to-diy are broken down. I hustled 'round this morninjf ^ettinof straightened up on time, Was waitlnj'' for an early customer to CHtcli an early dime, When in walked a portly fellow, ragufed out fine as ever seen, Handiniiiig- 1 don't s'pose any will ci.re ; Its not likely any will bother or ask wliy I hurrii^d away, Or tear any rents in my fullcloth in order to get me to stay ; I guess they can run tUo. big city without a big gossoon like me Well, I'm perfectly willin' to let them, then on that cpiestioii we will agree, i'or ev(!ry o(l'< ■'' 7B They can form net trusts nor combines On the coo!, delightful nir, Or arrange their fancy prices For the gifts of nature fair- Cannot form no trusts and combines On the moonlight's sonibre ray, Nor the beauty stars that sj)arlile Yonder in tlie millcy way. Cannot form no trusts nor combines On the wildwoods shady nooks, Nor the grand and wondrous ocean, Or tlie leaping mountain brooks. They can form no trust or coml»ines Of the music of the birds, Nor the Christian deeds of kindness. Or the kind and loving words ; Cannot form their trusts and oombinjH On hope, chanty and love, Nor the great and priceless l)l('ssings That are promiseut humble the abode we call our own, It nniy be in the <'ity or at rustic country-side Perhaps iM'comc disordered as the varied years ha\(' flown, Yet nu'inories of that home with us will »• rr aliide. I low the poor truant outcast wandering'- to and fro afar, Lies down to rest at eventide beneath tlu> starlight doujc, Ansidu^ his y;a/.e is ll/»'(| upon some britvlit and disiaut stai', He lonj;in^^ woudeis if it cculers o'er his home. liehold yon Kouthcrn tnvveller on the storm swept norlhern moor. O'ercome, sinks down to di-eam of li(»ni<\ of friend- and sunn>- skies; There in !ii.< dream> pcrciianee he warm-^ before his own hearth-door, And with hi" eountenaiicc ajflow he freezing dies. >' S&f 78 Nay, space cannot obliterate, nor fleet-winged time eras*', Yet may the cruel ax bespoil some favored woodland iiuuk ;. Still will be left some hallowed spot, some kind and lovi ij? Uwv, Tho' faint the outline left on home's treasured book. Time only as the mountain stream deep down the crevio*^ wrars, Tho' crushed the fragrant blooming flowers, is left th«! sw<«t i-»i (umv Af- swift the sea-bird to her crag-built, downy nest repaiis, So do our thoughts reveL and longing, wander hoiue. 7!) THE DAYS OF "AULD LANG SYNE.'" M;(y Ilcnvni diroct and ever jjf'iide the pen Of him tluir. told the story ot Drunitoclity Glen, "Tis bcttt'i" than sonw^ flowi'ry sermon taufifht — I rearl from <'nd to end and had no evil tlioug-ht. I liave not spaoe to }»-ive tlie (lien folk all their due, Nor jfift to s'u\fr th<' |)rais<'s of the tri«'d and true; Hilt sympathy for I)ruiiishen<;li I will here impart, And ^ood old Dr. Weelum s kindness touched my heart. Jh\rnhrne moved the feernijrs when he, tcnip<'st driven, rMrt«'d with earth's all, hut fix<'d his ho|K' hat t(t him of hijrit :»n«l lor nori-rimc the priet-h^-. It.rvore(»j'ds ar<' Jait iutiiludis Ix'twecn the words. Oh, \\\:\\ it nevi-r ecn^f that »'arth >liall h.tv*- ^jh-at me*, .\s Ian wiitrv .it I>niMil(i«'lit\ s hallo««M| jfh'U * My ilKtiiijhi- for time will haunt the (ilen's >urf in m\ Jieart its storv , priner of »MM/ks. As of \iild Lanj? Syne. ' 80 The Old Time Huskin' Bee. When the autumn sun seems linjjfei'in}? above the russet trees And the seeond growth of clover scents the cooMn^ evening breeze, When the corn is in the stook f(»nd memories come ro me, Of the days long- past and g-one— of the okl-time " liuskin' l)ee." When I see the harvest g-athered and the stacks around in rows, And I listen to the cawing- of the lazy Hyinj^ crows, When the birds in flocks have gatliered and the frost is on thy lea, 1 feel like gfetting- ready for the old-time " huskin' bee." We lads and lasses off would ^o in lumber wa^on loads. And we never thougfht of distance or the rou}jflin(!ss of the I'oads. A waji^on with a hay-rack at that jH'riod, don't you see. Was g-ood enough for us to ride to the old-time " huskin' Ih'I!." The neighboring young folks all would come and each and every on**, Would share in tricks r\ throwing corn and mingling in the fun. And stolen kisses 'mcng the corn were no rare thing: to see— They never were thought out of place at the old-time " huskin' bee." 'JMie huskin' nu'al with pumpkin pies ;nid lieaps of twisted cake, And the appli' cider, g-ood anil strong, to keep the Ixiys awake, Tin; wateiMiU'lon cut in sijuares would cause the youngsters glee — Twas ni'ver run on the stingy plan, the old-time " huskin' i>ee." Th(! old tin lanli'rns, from the rustic Itarn beams carefully hung, (iave light as many a joke went round and merry songs were sung ; Their murky light illnniecl dUc eiMUfly fac(^ that swei'ter seemed to me Than all the rest assund)lrd there at the (»ld-time " Iniskin bee." We'd husk a tinti-, theti \\v lad-; nil would clear the old barn floor Ami then would partneis take and ^pcnd a timr at terpsiehore. The licet winged monn-uts swift would lly, and when the hours were wee We'd lea\-e in pairs ami merry loads from the oldtinu! "huskin' bee." 81 Where now ai-c those? Some rest in graves in western lands, unknown— Inknown to friend or kindred— known to but tlieir (Jod alone ; And those that liv<^ are scattered far o'er hind and over sea, Vet still thiir presence haunts to-night tlu; old-time " huskin' bee." wee 82 THE? Old Tavern Stove. In a small rural villag:e, far back from the sea, The dearest of all of earth's bright spots to me ; Let me wander once more o'er the hill through the grove And sit down again by the Old Tavern Stove. » You can talk of your coal stove and range o'er and o'er, And new fangled furnaces under the floor. But I doubt if you'll find, though far you may rove, Anything to throw heat like that Old Ta\ jrn Stove. For years the Old Stove held a prominent place. And would never resent though oft spit in the face ; And the Innkeeper he, it never did move — 'Twas like one of the family that Old Tavern Stove. Now yon seldom would find a merrier crew Than all of we working lads, honest and true ; With the days work done, we would meet in the grove, Toast shins and shop yarns 'round the Old Tavern Stove. How oft I have heard the old-tfme drummer say, When making bis rounds on a cold winter's day. He'd feel warm on the road, as he through the sleet drove, When he thought of the fire in that Old Tavern Stove. f^m / 1 K. ' . ». H'i^H ■J^. -■^ -^. -^..^ ^ t„ - m ^ iis. v .-:^ n* *:» ?. i' ' 1 ' ' , ■ «■ .1 ^' J. -'■ ■ . ^' -■■ ^. ,.' , ■■ .. ■ ^ .,' ...,'.' '■» I' *■ y ■ w IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 1.0 ^^ tii >tt lU 12.2 1.1 ?.'«'^ 1^ |u Uj6 ^ \\ Sdehoes Corparation ss wiiT MUM tfur «MNITM,N.V. 14110 (7U)I?«'4MI / ^ ¥g •.."QN 4f^ 84 When tlu» flays they grew short and Xmas waw jioar, And all of the village folk were of jjood cheer, From the farms 'round the boys would come in a drove And drink a good health with me hids 'round the stove. Thoitjfh many the chan^i^e, yet the stove keeps a hold, And, too. Iik«i the boys, lias jyrown rnsty and old ; Now th»^ Innkeeper sleeps in the <'emet'ry {?rove, And strangers I see gnther(;d 'round the Old Stove. Hut, alas ! to thost^ scenes I must now say good-bye, And think of th(? bygt>nes but with a sigh ; But the place of my childhoffi I ever will love And hold dear the friends that sat 'round the Old Stove, H .'- 85 Peggy And Co. There's a little estaMishinent uj) a sUlv street, Surrounded by trees in a villajre afar. And a dear little elerk that is tidy and neat. She's as charming and brifi^ht as a twinklintr star. Siie deals in ifood wishes and hai)|)y home blisses And bunches of kisses to make the heart fflow, With a stock of jfood jjraces an«l brifjht smiling faces- The little love firm of reg'f::y and Co. As twili}rht approaches I hast<'n and Imrry Away fron) all toll to that little love ston^ (^Uiite forjfet all the cares of the day and its worry While j(.kin{f with Pejrtry and Co. by the door. They treat me to kisses and serve up their blisses, They wish me jjikkI wishes and love me, 1 know. There are never the traces of sour l(M>kin{f faces At the little love store of iV'jfjfV and Co. Thou^jh a waiulerer now from tlnit rural retreat. My thouy'lus they return to that defir happy spot, Aiid 1 h»nfr f(»r tjie time when n»y VviXixy III jfreet And taste (»f her wears in her little hom«' ccit. To sliare in her blisses and receive their yood wishes. And tasti' of their kisses as pure as the snnw, Have them to me cliu;rin}f, hear their sweet Itallads sin«:inj;. The dear little lirm of lV'>?}ry ""d C(». To and fr»», as 1 wander, 1 nev«r cm find Anyone that's so triut ror a heart that's sn ^nty, Nor no one so sreminjriy Invin;; ami kind Thev ,'l(»ries, tvll sunshiny stories, Sweet bri^htsidrd stories to make the heart ^^ow. There you'll llnd no repinin;; in* frettln;? imr whininjf, At the Utile love storu of Pi'tf>cy '">•' '■^'- pfi Thirt liMlo U»vi' linn with its nic«* little olerk 1^ iny l\u\M' jiiul my tmisuit*, the |*rioiir, to work, Ki.r IVjrjry rtiul C<». Is my »Mil>v Jtinl wife. They've u suick of j?oo«l wifcihes uiid buneht^ of kisacs, They'if wsiitiii}? their blisses on iw to U'stow, To sf tlieir ♦swfvt faees jmuI shaiv in their jrraccs, I'll hie me away (o my J'cj^gy aiwl Co. 87 To Arms ! To Arms'! ! il..,u ' Imi-k ' it i« the (logs of «iu- »■,. \mv out cor tlic main. ! H,„™.l'of Ulcn loLd ana on ti,.- Mack "'^^^^^^'^ K„.|,le^ i» war, but right »■"' l'X,'r;V ' , '.' . ; ; wail : I on«'-' loiitf! have wc pk'juk'd, Kiffeud, lit.iia mm m n WUcr to forfeit life resistinf; ^vro..f,Mn ''^ >;;";;";; ;;;;^ ^^..„. Than nve and bear the insult, of a U.v and '"'"/jV^f?;;;;;, .,, , „,,, l',.,n.le of one s*pirit. monarch and re| nl.lie, « f mi;";'^^;' • Vrhion hands and hearts, now n.al;;;•';<-;; ^„„^, Ket ))Vjr*>nes m ,w he burled deep : let faetions doctrines 1 r. „. O.M. in peace, be one in war : rulo.s ..f ea.lh and s.a _ liuli.ur as Mu-en antl President, w.fh wimIou. i nie .,,,.1 ■ . M^alhtin^ :md shapin^r a woHd a. ,wo ^reat .-'- J^; ' '•^^ ' Ti,..n will the fetter and chain diM-ardod W, and i- oM n » . {•8 A Cart Horse's Soliloquy. Only Ji poor old cart horse of tho town, Wing-boiit'd and spavined and quite broken down, Ilauiinnf and tugj^ing at coa' up a grade, Hearing the curses and feeling the braid, Often in temper, on my weary round, I near cursed the man the mineral found. Oidy an old cart horse, now nearly blind, No stranger to whip and to words unkind, At feed-time I heard the stable man say " That old black pelter there ain't worth hii* hay Though wo in youth may be clioice of a fold. We're graded the same as the rest when old. The time was when I was thought of some use, Petted and fondled, unknown to abuse. My owner would groom and curry me o'er, My coat looked slick as the castor he wore, And when I was harnessed and hitched with care. Folks thought me the very best horse 'round there. Mv master, a bland young fnrmer of pride Oft drove me out with a maid by his side. And happy the hours that winged o'er we three. Then his mind was not very much on me. He'd kiss her sweet lips and call her his dear, And whisper some words that I couldn't hear. But the height was reached of my horsehoo l pride The day she was made a mistress and brl, luver come back. no Figure For Yourself. S Clio y.KMl and useful maxims, lad, I've beard from time to time, A;id Olid ropeat a score of them in either prose or rhvnie ; Ivci)(:i'i<'iiL'i' has tauyflU me some and one I'll tell, vou <'lf, ' Pis this—'- When flgurin«f figures, lad, figure for yourself." In tills biif wjrid, this great big busy world of ours, Tiiii/e's none too many roses, or an overstock of ii.)wers ; Y » ril find m-iukind a thorny crowd, and if you slyly scan, Yji'll find them figuring for them-»elves, in )st always to a man. A A L 1' A I do not mean to teach my lad that all are thieves and ghouls, Fntent thyself with honest toll, thy duty never shirk, Ik'inetnber idleness has filled o'er lU'iny graves than work. 91 Tlie liattJi- is n<«t to tlic stronj;, th