X&MCsftU! ' m^J^ - w ^ ^ 1 ^J Wq^m^rM t*f irx ^-rjrj/r* 1 s?^ r>7 icIAJJAfl FTld (IWA rn, RUDYARD KIPLING BARRACK-ROOtt CONTENTS. PRELUDE I have eaten your bread and salt, GENERAL SUMMARY 11 We are very slightly changed DANNY DEEVER 13 " What are the bugles blowin' for?" ARMY HEADQUARTERS 16 Ahasuerus Jenkins of the "Operatic Own" A LEGEND OF THE FOREIGN OFFICE .. 19 Rustum Beg of Kolazai THE STORY OF URIAH 22 Jack Barrett went to Quetta THE POST THAT FITTED ' 24 Ere the steamer bore him Eastward, DELILAH 27 Delilah Aberyswith was a lady ii CONTENTS. PAGE PINK DOMINOES 31 Jenny and Me were engaged, you see, THE MAN WHO COULD WRITE .. .. 34 Boanerges Blitzen, servant of the Queen MUNICIPAL 37 It was an August evening, and in snowy garment clad, A CODE OF MORALS 40 Now Jones had left his new- wed bride "TOMMY" .. 44 I went into a public-'ouse to get a pint o' beer, " FUZZY-WUZZY " 47 We've fought with many men acrost the seas, OONTS! 50 Wot makes the soldier's 'eartto penk, LOOT 54 If you've ever stole a pheasant-egg SOLDIER, SOLDIER 58 " Soldier, soldier come from the wars, THE SONS OF THE WIDOW .. .. 61 'Ave you 'eard o' the Widow at Windsor CONTENTS. ill PAGE TROOPIN' 64 Troopin', troopin', troopin' to the sea : GUNGA DIN 67 You may talk o' gin an' beer MANDALAY 72 By the old Moulmein Pagoda, THE YOUNG BRITISH SOLDIER .. .. 76 When the 'arf-made recruity goes out to the East ^CREW-GUNS 81 Smokin' my pipe on the mountings, BELTS 85 There was a row in Silver Street TO THE UNKNOWN GODDESS .. .. 89 Will you conquer my heart with your beauty ; LA NUIT BLANCHE 91 I had seen, as dawn was breaking MY RIVAL 95 I go to concert, party, ball THE LOVERS' LITANY 98 Eyes of gray a sodden quay, A BALLAD OF BURIAL 100 If down here I chance to die, IV CONTENTS. PAGE DIVIDED DESTINIES 103 It was an artless Bandar, THE MASQUE OF PLENTY 106 "How sweet is the shepherd's sweet life! THE MARE'S NEST 114 Jane Austen Beecher Stowe de Rouse CHRISTMAS IN INDIA 117 Dim dawn behind the tamarisks PAGETT, M. P J21 Pagett, M. P. , was a liar, THE SONG OF THE WOMEN .. .. <24 How shall she know the worship we would do her ? BALLAD OF FISHER'S BOARDING-HOUSE 128 'Twas Fultah Fisher's Boarding-house "AS THE BELL CLINKS." 133 As I left the Halls^at Lumley, AN OLD SONG 137 So long as 'neath the Kalka hills CERTAIN MAXIMS OF HAFIZ .. .. 140 If it be pleasant to look on, THE GRAVE OF THE HUNDRED HEAD 146 There 's a widow in sleepy Chester CONTENTS. V PAGE THE OVERLAND MAIL 150 In the name of the Empress of India, WHAT THE PEOPLE SAID 153 By the well, where the bullocks go THE UNDERTAKER'S HORSE .. .. 156 The eldest son bestrides him ARITHMETIC ON THE FRONTIER .. 159 A great and glorious thing it is ONE VICEROY RESIGNS 161 So here 's your Empire. THE BETROTHED 172 Open the old cigar-box A TALE OF TWO CITIES 177 Where the sober-colored cultivator smiles GRIFFEN'S DEBT 181 Imprimis he was "broke." THE GALLEY-SLAVE 185 Oh, gallant was our galley THE EXPLANATION 189 Love and Death once ceased their etrife THE CONUNDRUM OF THE WORKSHOPS 190 When the flush of a new-born sun fell first vi CONTENTS. PAGE THE GIFT OF THE SEA 193 The dead child lay in the shroud, EVARRA AND HIS GODS 197 Read here, This is the story of Evarra PUBLIC WASTE 202 By the Laws of the Family Circle THE LAST DEPARTMENT 205 "None whole or clean," POSSIBILITIES 207 Ay, lay him 'neath the Simla pine IN SPRINGTIME 209 My garden blazes orightly A BALLADE OF JAKKO HILL. .. .< 211 One moment bid the horses wait, THE PLEA OF THE SIMLA DANCERS. 213 " What have we ever done to bear this grudge?" TWO MONTHS In June 216 No hope, no change ! The clouds have shut us in TWO MONTHS In September 218 At dawn there was a murmur in the trees. THE MOON OF OTHER DAYS 219 Beneatli the deep verandah's shade CONTENTS. vii PAGE THE FALL OF JOCK GILLESPIE. .. 221 This fell when dinner-time was done THE RTJPAIYAT OF OMIR KAL'VIN .. 224 Now the New Year reviving last year's debt WHAT HAPPENED 227 Hurree Chunder Mookerjee, pride of the Bow Bazar STUDY OF AN ELEVATION IN INDIAN INK 232 Potiphar Gubbins, C. E., Stands at the top of the tree THE VAMPIRE 234 A fool there was, and he made hie prayer RECESSIONAL 237 God of our fathers, known of old. L'ENVOI 239 The smoke upon your altar dies. / HA VE eaten your bread and salt, I have drunk your water and wine, The deaths ye died I have watched beside. And the lives that ye led were mine. Was there aught that I did not share In vigil or toil or ease, One joy or woe that I did not know, Dear hearts across the seas f I have written the tale of our life For a sheltered people's mirth, fn jesting guise but ye are wise, And ye know what the jest is worth. General Summary. WE are very slightly changed From the semi-apes who ranged India's prehistoric clay ; Whoso drew the longest bow, Ran his brother down, you know, As we run men down to-day. u Dowb," the first of all his race, Met the Mammoth face to face On the lake or in the cave, Stole the steadiest canoe, Ate the quarry others slew, Died and took the finest grave. When they scratched the reindeer-bone, Some one made the sketch his own, Filched it from the artist then, Even in those early days, Won a simple Viceroy's praise Through the toil of other men. (11) 12 BALLADS. Ere they hewed the Sphinx's visage ^Favoritism governed kissage, Even as it does in this age. Who shall doubt the secret hid Under Cheops' pyramid Was that the contractor did Cheops out of several millions ? Or that Joseph's sudden rise "To Comptroller of Supplies Was a fraud of monstrous size On King Pharaoh's swart Civilians? Thus, the artless songs I sing Do not deal with anything New or never said before. As it was in the beginning, Is to-day official sinning, And shall be for evermore. Danny Deever. " WHAT are the bugles bio win' for ?" said Files-on-Parade. "To turn you out, to turn you out," the Color-Sergeant said. *' What makes you look so white, so white ?" said Files-on-Parade. 44 I'm dreadin' what I've got to watch, "the Color-Sergeant said. For they're hangin' Danny Deever, you can 'ear the Dead March play, The regiment's in 'ollow square they're hangin' him to-day ; They've taken of his buttons off an' cut his stripes away, An' they're hangin' Danny Deever in the mornin'. " What makes the rear-rank breathe so 'ard?" said Files-on-Parade. " It's bitter cold, it's bitter cold," the Color- Sergeant said. "What makes that front-rank man fall down ?" said Files-on-Parade. (13) 14 BALLADS. " A touch of sun, a touch of sun," the Color- Sergeant said. They are hangin' Danny Deever, they are marchin' of 'im round, They 'ave 'alted Danny Deever by 'is coffin on the ground ; An' 'e'll swing in 'arf a minute for a sneakin', shootin' hound they're hangin' Danny Deever in the mornin' ! "'Is cot was right- 'and cot to mine," said Files-on-Parade. " 'E's sleepin' out an' far to-night," the Color- Sergeant said. *' I've drunk 'is beer a score o' times," said Files-on-Parade. " 'E's drinkin' bitter beer alone," the Color- Sergeant said. They are hangin' Danny Deever, you must mark 'im to 'is place, For 'e shot a comrade sleepin' you must look 'im in the face ; Nine 'undred of 'is county an' the regiment's disgrace, While they're hangin' Danny Deever in the mornin'. DEEVER. 15 " What's that so black agin the sun ?" said Files-on-Parade. " It's Danny fightin' 'ard for life," the Color- Sergeant said. " What's that that whimpers over'ead ?" said Files-on-Parade. "It's Danny's soul that's passin' now," the Color-Sergeant said. For they're done with Danny Deever, you can 'ear the quickstep play, The regiment's in column, an' they're marchin' us away ; Ho ! the young recruits are shakin', an' they'll want their beer to-day, After hangin' Danny Deever in the mornin'. Army Headquarters. OLD is the song that I sing Old as my unpaid bills Old as the chicken that kitmutgars bring Men at dak-bungalowsold as the Hills. AHASUERUS JENKINS of the " Operatic Own " Was dowered with a tenor voice of super- Santley tone. His views on equitation were, perhaps, a trifle queer ; He had no seat worth mentioning, but oh I he had an ear. He clubbed his Avretched company a dozen times a day, He used to quit his charger in a parabolic way, His method of saluting was the joy of all beholders, But Ahasuerus Jenkins had a head upon his shoulders. He took two months to Simla when the year was at the spring, ( 16) ARMY HEADQUARTERS. 17 And underneath the deodars eternally did sing. He warbled like a bulbul, but particularly at Cornelia Agrippina who was musical and fat. She controlled a humble husband, who, in turn, controlled a Dept., Where Cornelia Agrippina's human singing- birds were kept From April to October on a plump retaining fee, Supplied, of course, per mensem, by the In- dian Treasury. Cornelia used to sing with him, and Jenkins used to play He praised unblushingly her notes, for he was false as they : So when the winds of April turned the bud- ding roses brown, Cornelia told her husband: ''Tom, you mustn't send him down." They haled him from his regiment which didn't much regret him ; They found for him an office-stool, and on that stool they set him, 2 18 BALLADS. To play with maps and catalogues three idle* hours a day, And draw his plump retaining fee which means his double pay. Now, ever after dinner, when the coffee-cups are brought, Ahasuerus waileth o'er the grand pianoforte ; And, thanks to fair Cornelia, his fame hath waxen great, And Ahasuerus Jenkins is a power in the State. A Legend of the Foreign Office. THIS is the reason why Rustum Beg, Rajah of Kolazai, Drlnketh the " simpkin " and brandy peg, Maketh the money to fly, Vexeth a Government, tender and kind, Also but this is a detail blind. RUSTUM BEG of Kolazai slightly back- ward native State Lusted for a C. S. I., so began to sanitate. Built a Jail and Hospital nearly built a City drain Till his faithful subjects all thought their ruler was insane. Strange departures made he then yea, De- partments stranger still, Half a dozen Englishmen helped the Rajah with a will, Talked of noble aims and high, hinted of a future fine For the state of Kolazai, on a strictly West- ern line. (19) 20 BALLADS. Rajah Rustum held his peace; lowered octroi dues a half; Organized a State Police; purified the Civil Staff; Settled cess and tax afresh in a very liberal way; Cut temptations of the .flesh also cut the Bukhshi's pay; Roused his Secretariat to a fine Mahratta fury, By a Hookum hinting at supervision of dasturi ; Turned the State of Kolazai very nearly up- side down ; When the end of May was nigh, waited his achievement crown. Then the Birthday Honors came. Sad to state and sad to see, Stood against the Rajah's name nothing more than C. I. E. ! Things were lively for a week in the State of Kolazai. Even now the people speak of that time re- gretfully. A LEGEND OF THE FOREIGN OFFICE: 21 How he disendowed the Jail stopped at once the City drain ; Turned to beauty fair and frail got his senses back again ; Doubled taxes, cesses, all ; cleared away each new-built thana; Turned the two-lakh Hospital into a superb Zenana ; Heaped upon the Bukhshi Sahib wealth and honors manifold ; Clad himself in Eastern garb squeezed his people as of old. Happy, happy Kolazail Never more will Rustum Beg Play to catch the Viceroy's eye. He prefers the " simpkin " peg. The Story of Uriah. " Now there were two men in one city ; the one rich ana the other poor." JACK BARRETT went to Quetta. Because they told him to. He left his wife at Simla On three-fourths his monthly strew : Jack Barrett died at Quetta Ere the next month's pay he drew. Jack Barrett went to Quetta. He didn't understand The reason of his transfer From the pleasant mountain-land : The season was September, And it killed him out of hand. Jack Barrett went to Quetta, And there gave up the ghost, Attempting two men's duty In that very healthy post ; And Mrs. Barrett mourned for him Five lively months at most. ( 22) THE STORY OF URIAH. 23 Jack Barrett's bones at Quetta Enjoy profound repose; But I shouldn't be astonished If now his spirit knows The reason of his transfer From the Himalayan snows. And, when the Last Great Bugle Call Adown the Hurnai throbs, When the last grim joke is entered In the big black Book of Jobs, And Quetta graveyards give again Their victims to the air, I shouldn't like to be the man Who sent Jack Barrett there. The Post that Fitted. THOUGH tangled and twisted the course of true love, This ditty explains No tangle's so tangled it cannot improve If the Lover has brains. ERE the steamer bore him Eastward, Sleary was engaged to marry An attractive girl at Tunbridge, whom he called "my little Carrie,." Sleary's pay was very modest ; Sleary was the other way. Who can cook a two-plate dinner on eight paltry dibs a day? Long he pondered o'er the question in his scantly-furnished quarters Then proposed to Minnie Boff kin, eldest of Judge Boffkin's daughters. Certainly an impecunious Subaltern was not a catch, But the Boff kins knew that Minnie mightn't make another match. (24) THE POST THAT FITTED. 25 So they recognized the business, and, to feed and clothe the bride, Got him made a Something Something some- where on the Bombay side. Anyhow, the billet carried pay enough for him to marry As the artless Sleary put it: "Just the thing for me and Carrie." Did he, therefore, jilt Miss Boffkin im- pulse of a baser mind ? No ! He started epileptic fits of an appall- ing kind. (Of his modus operandi only this much I could gather : "Pears' shaving sticks will give you little taste and lots of lather. ") Frequently in public places his affliction used to smite Sleary with distressing vigor always in the Boffkins' sight. Ere a week was over Minnie weepingly re- turned his ring, Told him his " unhappy weakness " stopped all thought of marrying. 26 BALLADS. Sleary bore the information with a chastened holy joy, Epileptic fits don't matter in Political em- ploy- Wired three short words to Carrie took his ticket, packed his kit Bade farewell to Minnie Boff kin in one last, long, lingering fit. Four weeks later, Carrie Sleary read and laughed until she wept Mrs. Boffkin's warning letter on the " wretched epilept." Year by year, in pious patience, vengeful Mrs. Boffkin sits Waiting for the Sleary babies to develop Sleary's fits. Delilah. WE have another Viceroy now, those days are dead and done, Of Delilah Aberyswith and depraved Ulysses Gunne. DELILAH ABERYSWITH was a lady not too young With a perfect taste in dresses, and a badly- bitted tongue, With a thirst for information, and a greater thirst for praise, And a little house in Simla, in the Prehis- toric Days. By reason of her marriage to a gentleman in power, Delilah was acquainted with the gossip of the hour ; And many little secrets, of a half-official kind, Were whispered to Delilah, and she bore them all in mind. She patronized extensively a man, Ulysses Gunne, Whose mode of earning money was a low and shameful one. (27) 28 BALLADS. He wrote for divers papers, which, as every- body knows, Is worse than serving in a shop or scaring off the crows. He praised her u queenly beauty " first; and, later on, he hinted At the " vastness of her intellect " with com- pliment unstinted. He went with her a-riding, and his love for her was such That he lent her all his horses, and she galled them very much. One day, THEY brewed a secret of a fine finan- cial sort ; It related to Appointments, to a Man and a Report 'Twas almost worth the keeping (only seven people knew it), And Gunne rose up to seek the truth and patiently pursue it. It was a Viceroy's Secret, but perhaps the wine was red Perhaps an aged Councillor had lost his aged head DELILAH. 29' Perhaps Delilah's eyes were bright Delilah's whispers sweet The Aged Member told her what 'twere trea- son to repeat. Ulysses went a-riding, and they talked of love and flowers ; Ulysses went a-calling, and he called for several hours ; Ulysses went a-waltzing, and Delilah helped him dance Ulysses let the waltzes go, and waited for his chance. The summer sun was setting, and the sum- mer air was still, The couple went a-walking in the shade of Summer Hill, The wasteful sunset faded out in turkis-green and gold, Ulysses pleaded softly, and . . . that bad Delilah told ! Next morn, a startled Empire learnt the all- important news ; Next week, the Aged Councillor was shak ing in his shoes ; 30 BALLADS. Next month, I met Delilah, and she did not show the least Hesitation in affirming that Ulysses was a "beast." We have another Viceroy now, those days are dead and done, Of Delilah Aberyswith and most mean Ulysses Gunne I Pink Dominoes. " THEY are fools who kiss and tell " Wisely has the poet sung. Man may hold all sorts of posts If he'll only hold his tongue. JENNY and Me were engaged, you see, On the eve of the Fancy Ball ; So a kiss or two was nothing to you Or any one else at all. Jenny would go in a domino Pretty and pink but warm ; While I attended, clad in a splendid Austrian uniform. Now we had arranged, through notes ex changed Early that afternoon, At Number Four to waltz no more, But to sit in the dusk and spoon. (I wish you to see that Jenny and Me Had barely exchanged our troth ; Bo a kiss or two was strictly due By, from, and between us both.) (31) 32 BALLADS. When Three was over, an eager lover, I fled to the gloom outside ; And a Domino came out also Whom I took for my future bride. That is to say, in a casual way, I slipped my arm around her ; With a kiss or two (which is nothing to you), And ready to kiss I found her. She turned her head, and the name she said Was certainly not my own ; But ere I could speak, with a smothered shriek She fled and left me alone. Then Jenny came, and I saw with shame She'd doffed her domino ; And I had embraced an alien waist But I did not tell her so. Next morn I knew that there were two Dominoes pink, and one Had cloaked the spouse of Sir Julian Vouse, Our big political gun. PINK DOMINOES. 3S Sir J. was old, and her hair was gold, And her eye was a blue cerulean ; And the name she said when she turned her head Was not in the least like " Julian." Now wasn't it nice, when want of pice Forbade us twain to marry, That old Sir J., in the kindest way. Made me his Secxetarry f The Man who could Write. SHUN shun the Bowl! That fatal, facile drink Has ruined many geese who dipped their quills in't ; Bribe, murder, marry, but steer clear of Ink Save when you write receipts for paid-up bills in't. There may be silver in the " blue-black "all I know of is the iron and the gall. BOANERGES BLITZEN, servant of the Queen, Is a dismal failure is a Might-have-been. In a luckless moment he discovered men Rise to high position through a ready pen. Boanerges Blitzen argued, therefore : " I With the selfsame weapon can attain as high." Only he did not possess, when he made the trial, Wicked wit of C-lv-n, irony of L 1. (Men who spar with Government need, to back their blows, Something more than ordinary journalistic prose.) (34) THE MAN WHO COULD WRITE. 35 Never 'young Civilian's prospects were so bright, Till an Indian paper found that he could write ; Never young Civilian's prospects were so dark, ' When the wretched Blitzen wrote to make his mark. Certainly r e scored it. bold and black ana firm, In that Indian paper made his seniors squirm, Quoted office scandals, wrote the tactless truth Was there ever known a more misguided youth ? When the rag he wrote for praised his plucky game, Boanerges Blitzen felt that this was Fame; When the men he wrote of shook their heads and swore, Boanerges Blitzen only wrote the more. Posed as Young Ithuriel, resolute and grim, Till he found promotion didn't come to him; 36 BALLADS. Till he found that reprimands weekly were his lot, And his many Districts curiously hot Till he found his furlough strangely hard to win, Boanerges Blitzen didn't care a pin : Then it seemed to dawn on him something wasn't right Boanerges Blitzen put it down to "spite." Languished in a District desolate and dry ; Watched the Local Government yearly pass him by ; Wondered where the hitch was; called it most unfair. That was seven years ago and he still ia there. Municipal. * WHY is my District death-rate lowf Said Binks of Hezabad. " Welle, drains, and sewage-outfalls are My own peculiar fad. I learnt a lesson once. It ran Thus," quoth that most veracious man : IT was an August evening, and, in snowy garments clad, I paid a round of visits in the lines of Heza- bad; When, presently, my Waler saw, and did not like at all, A Commissariat Elephant careering dcwn the Mall. I couldn't see the driver, and across my mind it rushed That the Commissariat elephant had sud- denly gone musth, I didn't care to meet him, and I couldn't well get down, So I let the Waler have it and we headed for the town. (37) 38 BALLADS. The buggy was a new one, and, praise Dykes, it stood the strain, Till the Waler jumped a bullock just above the City Drain , And the next that I remember was a hurri- cane of squeals, And the creature making toothpicks of my five-foot patent wheels. He seemed to want the owner, so I fled, dis- traught with fear, To the Main Drain sewage-outfall while he snorted in my ear Reached the four-foot drain-head safely, and, in darkness and despair, Felt the brute's proboscis fingering my ter- ror-stiffened hair. Heard it trumpet on my shoulder tried to crawl a little higher Found the Main Drain sewage-outfall blocked, some eight feet up, with mire ; And, for twenty reeking minutes, Sir, my very marrow froze, While the trunk was feeling blindly for a purchase on my toes ! MUNICIPAL. 39 It missed me by a fraction, but my hair was turning gray Before they called the drivers up and dragged the brute away. Then I sought the City Elders, and my words were very plain. They flushed that four-foot drain-head, and it never choked again. You may hold with surface- drainage, and the sun for garbage-cure, Till you've been a periwinkle shrinking coyly up a sewer. I believe in well-flushed culverts .... This is why the death-rate's small ; And, if you don't believe me, get shikarred yourself. That's all. A Code of Morals. LEST you should think this story true, I merely mention I Evolved it lately. 'Tis a most Unmitigated misstatement. NOW Jones had left his new-wed bride to keep his house in order, And hied away to the Hurrum Hills above the Afghan border, To sit on a rock with a heliograph ; but ere he left he taught His wife the working of the Code that sets the miles at naught. And Love had made him very sage, as Na- ture made her fair ; So Cupid and Apollo linked, per heliograph, the pair. At dawn, across the Hurrum Hills, he flashed her counsel wise At e'en, the dying sunset bore her husband's homilies. (40) A CODE OF MORALS. 41 He warned her 'gainst seductive youths in scarlet clad and gold, As much as 'gainst the blandishments pa- ternal of the old ; But kept his gravest warnings for (hereby the ditty hangs) That snowy-haired Lothario, Lieutenant- General Bangs. 'Twas General Bangs, with Aide and Staff, that tittupped on the way, When they beheld a heliograph tempestu- ously at play ; They thought of Border risings, and of sta- tions sacked and burnt So stopped to take the message down and this is what they learnt : " Dash dot dot, dot, dot dash, dot dash dot" twice. The General swore. "Was ever General Officer addressed as ' dear' before? 'My Love,' i' faith! 'My Duck,' Gadsooks! ' My darling popsy-wop !' Spirit of great Lord Wolseley, who is on that mountain top?" 42 BALLADS. The artless Aide-de-camp was mute; the gilded Staff were still, As, dumb with pent-up mirth, they booked that message from the hill ; For, clear as summer's lightning flare, the husband's warning ran : " Don't dance or ride with General Bangs a most immoral man." (At dawn, across the Hurrum Hills, he flashed her counsel wise But, howsoever Love be blind, the world at large hath eyes.) With damnatory dot and dash he helio- graphed his wife Some interesting details of the General's private life. The artless Aide-de-camp was mute; the shining Staff were still, And red and ever redder grew the General's shaven gill. And this is what he said at last (his feelings matter not) : " I think we've tapped a private line. Hi 1 Threes about there ! Trot !" A CODE OF MORALS. 43 All honor unto Bangs, for ne'er did Jones thereafter know By word or act official who read of that helio. ; But the tale is on the Frontier, and from Michni to Mooltaw They know the worthy General as " that most immoral man." " Tommy." I WENT into a public-'ouse to get a pint o ; beer, The publican 'e up an' sez, " We serve no redcoats here." The girls be'ind the bar they laughed an' giggled fit to die, I outs into the street again, an' to myself sez I: it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' " Tommy go away ;" But it's "Thank you, Mister Atkins," when the band begins to play, The band begins to play, my boys, the band begins to play, it's " Thank you, Mister Atkins," when the band begins to play. I went into a theatre as sober as could be, They give a drunk civilian room, but 'adn't none for me ; They sent me to the gallery or round the music- 'alls, But when it comes to fightin', Lord ! they'll shove me in the stalls. (44) "TOMMY." 45 For it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' " Tommy wait outside ;" But it's " Special train for Atkins," when the trooper's on the tide, The troopship's on the tide, my boys, etc. makin' mock o' uniforms that guard yon while you sleep Is cheaper than them uniforms, an' they're starvation cheap , An' hustlin' drunken sodgers when they're goin' large a bit Is five times better business than paradin* in full kit v Then it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' "Tommy, 'ow's yer soul?" But it's " Thin red line of 'eroes " when the drums begin to roll, The drums begin to roll, my boys, etc, We aren't no thin red 'eroes, ndr we aren't no blackguards too, But single men in barricks, most remarka- ble like you ; , 46 BALLADS. An' if sometimes our conduck isn't all your fancy paints, Why, single men in barricks don't grow into plaster saints. While it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' " Tommy fall be'ind;" But it's " Please to walk in front, sir," when there's trouble in the wind, There's trouble in the wind, my boys, etc. You talk o' better food for us, an' schools, an' fires, an' all : We'll wait for extry rations if you treat us rational. Don't mess about the cook-room slops, but prove it to our face The Widow's uniform is not the soldier- man's disgrace. For it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' " Chuck him out, the brute!" But it's " Saviour of 'is country " when the guns begin to shoot ; An' it's Tommy this, an' Tommy that, an' anything you please ; An' Tommy ain't a bloomin' fool you bet that Tommy sees I " Fuzzy- Wuzzy.'* (Soudan Expeditionary Force.) WE'VE fought with many men acrost the seas, An' some of 'em was brave an' some was not: The Paythan an' the Zulu an' Burmese ; But the Fuzzy was the finest o' the lot. We never got a ha'porth's change of 'im : 'E squatted in the scrub arx' 'ocked our 'orses, 'E cut our sentries up at SuaHm, An' 'e played the cat an' banjo with our forces. So 'ere's to you, Fuzzy-Wuzzy, at your 'ome in the Sowdan ; You're a poor benighted 'eathen but a first-class fightin' man ; We gives you your certifikit, and if you want it signed We'll come an' 'ave a romp with you whenever you're inclined. (47) 48 BALLADS. We took our chanst among the Kyber hills, The Boers knocked us silly at a mile, The Burman guv us Irriwaddy chills, An' a Zulu impi dished us up in style ; But all we ever got from such as they Was pop to what the Fuzzy made us swal- ler; We 'eld our bloomin' own, the papers say, But man for man the Fuzzy knocked us 'oiler. Then 'ere's to you, Fuzzy-Wuzzy, an' the missis and the kid ; Our orders was to break you, an' of course we went an' did. We sloshed you with Martinis, an' it wasn't 'ardly fair ; But for all the odds agin you, Fuzzy- Wuz, you bruk the square. *E 'asn't got no papers of 'is own, 'E 'asn't got no medals nor rewards, So we must certify the skill 'e's shown In usin' of 'is long two-'anded swords ; When 'e's 'oppin' in an' out among the bush With 'is coffin-'eaded shield an* shovel- spear, A 'appy day with Fuzzy on the rush Will last a 'ealthy Tommy for a year. " FUZZY- WUZZY." 4% So 'ere's to you, Fuzzy-Wuzzy, an* your friends which is no more, If we 'adn't lost some messmates we would 'elp you to deplore; But give an' take's the gospel, an' we'll call the bargain fair, For if you 'ave lost more than us, you crumpled up the square ! 'E rushes at the smoke when we let drive, An', before we know, 'e's 'ackin' at our 'ead ; 'E's all 'ot sand an' ginger when alive, An' 'e's generally shammin' when Vs dead. 'E's a daisy, 'e's a ducky, 'e's a lamb ! 'E's a injia-rubber idiot on the spree, 'E's the on'y thing that doesn't care a damn For the Regiment o' British Infantree. So 'ere's to you, Fuzzy-Wuzzy, at your 'ome in the Sowdan ; You're a pore benighted 'eathen but a first-class .fightin' man ; An' 'ere's to you, Fuzzy-Fuzzy, with your 'ayrick 'ead of 'air You big black boundin' beggar for you bruk a British square. 4 Oonts I (Northern India Transport Train.) WOT makes the soldier's 'eart to penk, wot - makes 'im to perspire ? It isn't standin' up to charge or lyin' down to fire ; But it's everlastin' waitin' on a everlastin' road For the commissariat camel an' 'is commis- sariat load. the oont, 1 the oont, the commissa- riat oont ! With 'is silly neck a-bobbin' like a basket full o' snakes ; We packs 'm like a idol, an' you ought to 'ear 'im grunt, An' when we gets 'im loaded up 'is blessed girth-rope breaks. "Wot makes the rear-guard swear so 'ard when night is drorin' in, An' every native follower is shiverin' for 'is skin? 1 Camel: oo is pronounced like u in "bull." but by Mr" Atkins to rhyme with " front." (50) OONTS! 51 It ain't the chanst o' bein' rushed by Pay- thans frum the 'ills, It's the commissariat camel puttin' on 'is blessed frills ! the oont, O the oont, the hairy scary oont ! A-trippin' over tent-ropes when we've got the night alarm ; We socks 'im with a stretcher-pole an' 'eads 'im off in front, An' when we've saved 'is bloomin' life 'e chaws our bloomin' arm. The 'orse 'e knows above a bit, the bullock's but a fool, The elephant's a gentleman, the baggage- mule's a mule ; But the commissariat cam-u-el, when all is said an* done, 'E's a devil an' a ostrich an' a orphan-child in one. the oont, the oont, the Gawd-for- saken oont I The 'umpy-lumpy 'ummin'-bird a-sing- in' where 'e lies, 'E's blocked the 'ole division from the rear-guard to the front, 52 BALLADS. An' when we gets 'im up again the beggar goes an' dies ! 'E'll gall an' chafe an' lame an' fight; 'e smells most awful vile ; *E'lllose 'imself forever if you let 'im stray a mile; *E's game to graze the 'ole day long an' 'owl the 'ole night through, An' when 'e comes to greasy ground 'e splite 'isself in two. O the oont, the oont, the floppin', droppin' oont ! When, 'is long legs give from under an* 'is rneltin' eye is dim, The tribes is up be'ind us an' the tribes is out in front, It ain't no jam for Tommy, but it's kites and crows for 'im. So when the cruel march is done an' when the roads is blind, An' when we sees the camp in front an' 'ears the shots be'ind, O then we strips 'is saddle off, and all 'is woes is past: E thinks on us that used 'im so, an' gets revenge at last. OONTS! 53 O the oont, the ooni, O the floatin', bloatin' oont ! The late lamented camel in the water- cut he lies ; We keeps a mile behind 'im an' we keeps a mile in front, But 'e gets into the drinkin' casks, and then o' course we dies. Loot. IF you've ever stole a pheasant-egg be'ind the keeper's back, If you've ever snigged the washin' frum the line, If you've ever crammed a gander in your bloomin' 'aversack, You will understand this little song o' mine. But the service rules are 'ard, an' frum such we are debarred. For the same with British morals does not suit (Cornet: Toot! toot!) W'y, they call a man a robber if 'e stuffs 'is marchin' clobber With the (Chorus.') Loo ! loo ! Lulu ! luhi ! Loo ! loo! Loot! loot! loot! 'Ow the loot ! Bloomin' loot ! That's the thing to make the boys git up an' shoot ! (54) LOOT. 55 It's the same with dogs an' men, If you'd make 'em come again Clap 'em forward with a Loo ! loo ! Lulu! Loot! Whoopee ! Tear 'im, puppy ! Loo! loo ! Lulu ! Loot ! loot ! loot ! If you've knocked a nigger edgeways when 'e's thrustin' for your life, You must leave 'im very careful where 'e fell; An' may thank your stars an' gaiters if you didn't feel 'is knife That you ain't told off to bury him as well. Then the sweatin' Tommies wonder as they spade the beggars under Why lootin' should be entered as a crime ; So if my song you'll 'ear, I will learn you plain an' clear 'Ow to pay yourself for fightin' overtime. (CAorus.) With the loot, etc. Now remember when you're 'acking round a gilded Burma god That 'is eyes is very often precious stones ; An' if you treat a nigger to a dose o' cleanin'- rod 56 BALLADS. 'E's like to show you everything 'e owns. When 'e won't prodooce no more, pour some water on the floor Where you 'ear it answer 'ollow to the boot (Cornet: Toot! toot!) When the ground begins to sink, shove your baynick down the chink, An' you're sure to touch the (Chorus.) Loo! loo! Lulu! Loot! loot! loot! 'Ow the loot, etc. When from 'ouse to 'ouse you're 'untin' you must always work in pairs It 'alves the gain, but safer you ,will find For a single man gits bottled on them twisty - wisty stairs, An' a woman comes and clobs 'im from be'ind. When you've turned 'em inside out, an' it seems beyond a doubt As if there weren't enough to dust a flute (Cornet: Toot! toot!) Before you sling your 'ook, at the 'ouse-tops take a look, For it's underneath the tiles they 'ide the loot. (Chorus.) 'Ow the loot. etc. LOOT. 07 You can mostly square a Sergint an' a Quar- termaster too, If you only take the proper way to go ; / could never keep my pickin's, but I've learned you all I knew An' don't you never say I told you so. An' now I'll bid good-by, for I'm gettin' rather dry, An' I see another tunin' up to toot {Cor- net: Toot! toot!) So 'ere's good-luck to those that wears the Widow's clo'es, An' the Devil send 'em all they want o' loot! (Chorus.) Yes, the loot, Bloomin' loot. In the tunic an' the mess-tin an' the boot! It's the same with dogs an' men, If you'd make 'em come again "Whoop 'em forward with the Loo ! loo ! Lulu ! Loot ! loot ! loot ! Heeya ! Sick 'im, puppy ! Loo ! loo ! Lulu ! Loot ! loot ! loot ! Soldier, Soldier. " SOLDIER, soldier come from the wars, Why don't you march with my true love?" "We're fresh from off the ship, an' Vs maybe give the slip, An' you'd best go look for a new love." New love ! True love ! Best go look for a new love, The dead they cannot rise, an' you'd bet- ter dry your eyes, An' you'd best go look for a new love. " Soldier, soldier come from the wars, What did you see o' my true love?" " I see 'im serve the Queen in a suit o' rifle- green, An' you'd best go look for a new love." " Soldier, soldier come from the wars, Did ye see no more o' my true love?" " I see 'im runnin' by when the shots begun to fly- But you'd best go look for a new love." (58) SOLDIER, SOLDIER. 59 "Soldier, soldier come from the wars, Did aught take 'arm to my true love?" "I couldn't see the fight, for the smoke it lay so white An' you'd best go look for a new love." "Soldier, soldier come from the wars, I'll up an' tend to my true love !" " 'E's lying on the dead with a bullet through 'is 'ead, An' you'd best go look for a new love." " Soldier, soldier come from the wars, I'll lie down and die with my true love !" "The pit we dug'll 'ide 'im an' twenty men beside 'im An' you'd best go look for a new love." " Soldier, soldier come from the wars, Do you bring no sign from my true love?" " I bring a lock of 'air that *e allus used to wear, An' you'd best go look for a new love." " Soldier, soldier come from the wars, then I know it's true I've lost my true love !" 60 BALLADS. u An' I tell you truth again when you've lost the feel o' pain You'd best take me for your true love." True love I New love 1 Best take 'imfor a new love. The dead they cannot rise, an* you'd better dry your eyes, An? you'd best take 'im for your true love* The Sons of the Widow. 'AVE you 'eard o' the Widow at Windsor With a hairy gold crown on 'er 'ead ? She 'as ships on the foam she 'as millions at 'ome, An' she pays us poor beggars in red. (Ow, poor beggars in red !) There's 'er nick on the cavalry 'orses There's 'er mark on the medical stores An' 'er troopers you'll find with a fair wind be'ind That takes us to various wars. (Poor beggars! barbarious wars !) Then 'ere's to the Widow at Windsor, An' 'ere's to the stores an' the guns, The men an' the 'orses what makes up the forces 0' Missis Victorier's sons. (Poor beggars ! Victorier's sons !) (61 > 62 BALLADS. Walk wide o' the Widow at Windsor, For 'alf o' creation she owns : We 'ave bought 'er the same with the sword an' the flame, An we've salted it down with our bones. (Poor beggars ! it's blue with our bones !) Hands off o' the sons of the Widow, Hands off o' the goods in 'er shop, For the Kings must come down an' the Emperors frown When the Widow at Windsor says " Stop!" (Poor beggars ! we're sent to say "Stop!") Then 'ere's to the Lodge o' the Widow, From the Pole to the Tropics it runs To the Lodge that we tile with the rank an' the file, An' open in forms with the guns. (Poor beggars ! it's always them guns !) We 'ave 'eard o' the Widow at Windsor It's safest to let 'er alone : THE SONS OF THE WIDOW. 63 For 'er sentries we stand by the sea an* the land Wherever the bugles, are blown. (Poor beggars! an' don't we get blown !) Take 'old o' the wings o' the mornin', An' flop round the earth till you're dead ; But you won't get away from the tune that they play To 'the bloomin' old rag over'ead. (Poor beggars ! it's 'ot over'ead!) Then 'ere's to the sons o' the Widow, Wherever, 'owever they roam. 'Ere's all they desire, an' if they require A speedy return to their 'ome. (Poor beggars ! they'll never see 'oine 1) Troopin'. (Our Army in the East.) TROOPIN', troopin', troopin' to the sea : 'Ere's September come again the six-year men are free. O leave the dead be'ind -us, for they cannot come away To where the ship's a-coalin' up that takes us 'ome to-day. We're goin' 'ome, we're goin' 'ome, Our ship is at the shore, An' you must pack your 'aversack, For we won't come back no more. Ho, don't you grieve for me, My lovely Mary-Anne, For I'll marry you yit on a fourp'n> bit As a time-expired man. The Malabar's in 'arbor with the Ju^ner at 'er tail, An' the time-expired's waitin' of 'is orders for to sail. (64} 65 the weary waitin' when on Khyber 'ills we But the time-expired's waitin' of 'is orders 'ome to-day. They'll turn us out at Portsmouth wharf in cold an' wet an' rain, All wearin' Injian cotton kit, but we will not complain ; They'll kill us of pneumonia for that's their little way But damn the chills and fever, men, we're goin' 'ome to-day ! Troopin', troopin' winter's round again I See the new drafs pourin' in for the old campaign ; Ho, you poor recruities, but you've got to earn your pay What's the last from Lunnon, lads ? We're goin' there to-day. Troopin', troopin', give another cheer ; Ere's to English women an' a quart of Eng- lish beer ; 66 BALLADS. The Colonel an' the regiment an' all who've got to stay, Gawd's mercy strike J em gentle Whoop 1 we're goin' 'ome to-day. We're goin' 'ome, we're goin' 'ome, Our ship is at the shore, An' you must pack your 'aversack, For we won't come back no more. Ho, don't you grieve for me, My lovely Mary-Anne, For I'll marry you yit on a fourp'ny bit As a time-expired man. Gunga Din. THE bhisli, or water-carrier, attached to regiments in India, is often one of the most devoted of the Queen's servants. He is also appreciated by the men. [THIS BALLAD IS EXTENSIVELY PLAGIARIZED.] YOU may talk o' gin an' beer When you're quartered safe out 'ere, An' you're sent to penny-fights an' Alder- shot it ; But if it comes to slaughter You will do your work on water, An' you'll lick the bloomin' boots of 'im that's got it. Now in Injia's sunny clime, Where I used to spend my time A-servin' of 'Er Majesty the Queen, Of all them black-faced crew The finest man I knew Was our regimental bhisti, Gunga Din. He was " Din ! Din ! Din ! You limping lump o' brick-dust, Gunga Din! Hi ! slippy hither ao ! Water, get it ! Panee lao I 1 You squidgy-nosed old idol, Gunga Din I" 1 Bring water swiftly. (67) <38 BALLADS. The uniform 'e wore Was nothin' much before, An' rather less than 'arf o' that be'ind, For a twisty piece o' rag An' a goatskin water-bag Was all the field-equipment 'e could find. When the sweatin' troop-train lay In a sidin' through the day, Where the 'eat would make your bloomin' eyebrows crawl, We shouted " Harry By I" 1 Till our throats were bricky-dry, Then we wopped 'im 'cause 'e couldn't serve us all. It was " Din ! Din ! Din I You 'eathen, where the mischief 'ave you been? You put some juldee in it, Or I'll marrow you this minute* If you don't fill up my hemlet, Gunga Din !" 'E would dot 'an carry one Till the longest day was done, i Mr. Atkins's equivalent for " Brother I" Hit you. GUNGA DIN. 69 An* 'e didn't seem to know the use o' fear. If we charged or broke or cut, You could bet your bloomin' nut, 'E'd be waitin' fifty paces right flank rear. With 'is mussick on 'is back, 'E would skip with our attack, An' watch us till the bugles made " Retire;" An' for all 'is dirty 'ide 'E was white, clear white, inside When 'e went to tend the wounded under fire! It was " Din ! Din ! Din !" With the bullets kickin' dust-spots on the green. When the cartridges ran out, You could 'ear the front-files shout: "Hi! ammunition-mules an' Gunga Din !" I sha'n't forgit the night When I dropped be'ind the fight With a bullet where my belt-plate should 'a' been. I was chokin' mad with thirst, An' the man that spied me first Was our good old grinnin', gruntin' Gunga Din. 70 BALLADS. 'E lifted up my 'ead, An' 'e plugged me where I bled, An' 'e guv me 'arf-a-pint o' water green : It was crawlin' and it stunk, But of all the drinks I've drunk, I'm gratefullest to one from Gunga Din. It was "Din! Din! Din! 'Ere's a beggar with a bullet through 'is spleen ; 'E's chawin' up the ground an' Vs kickin' all around : J?or Gawd's sake git the water, Gunga Din !" 'E carried me away To where a dooli lay, An' a bullet come an' drilled the beggar clean ; 'E put me safe inside, An' just before 'e died, " I 'ope you liked your drink," sez Gunga Din. So I'll meet 'im later on In the place where 'e is gone Where it's always double drill and no can- teen; GUNGA DIN. 71 'E'll be squattin' on the coals Givin' drink to pore damned souls, An' I'll get a swig in Hell from Gunga Din! Din ! Din ! Din ! You Lazarushian-leather Gunga Din ! Tho' I've belted you an' flayed you, B}~ the livin' Gawd that made you, You're a better man than I am, Gunga Din! Mandaiay. BY the old Moulmein Pagoda, lookin' east- ward to the sea, There's a Burma girl a-settin', an' I know she thinks o' me ; For the wind is in the palm-trees, an' the temple-bells they say, " Come you back, you British soldier ; come you back to Mandaiay !" Come you back to Mandaiay, Where the old Flotilla lay ; Can't you 'ear their paddles chunkin* from Rangoon to Mandaiay ? the road to Mandaiay, Where the flyin'-nshes play, An' the dawn comes up like thunder outer China 'crost the Bay ! 'Er petticut was yaller an' 'er little cap was green, An' 'er name was Supi-yaw-lat jes' the same as Theebaw's Queen, (72) VANDAL AY. 73 An' I seed her fast a-smokin' of a whackin' white cheroot, An' a-wastin' Christian kisses on an 'eathen idol's foot: Bloomin' idol made o' mud Wot they called the Great Gawd Budd Plucky lot she cared for idols when I kissed 'er where she stud ! On the road to Mandalay When the mist was on the rice-fields an' the sun was droppin' slow, She'd git 'er little banjo an' she'd sing " Kvtta-lo-lo !" With 'er arm upon my shoulder an' her cheek agin my cheek We useter watch the steamers an' the hathis pilin' teak. Elephints a-pilin' teak In the sludgy, squdgy creek, Where the silence 'ung that 'eavy you was 'arf afraid to speak ! On the road to Mandalay But that's all shove be'ind me long ago an' fur away, An' there ain't no 'buses runnin' from the Benk to Mandalay ; 74 BALLADS. An' I'm learnin' 'ere- in London what the ten-year sodger tells : " If you've 'card the East a-callin', why, you won't 'eed nothin' else." No ! you won't 'eed nothin' else But them spicy garlic smells An' the sunshine and the palm-trees an* the tinkly temple-bells ! On the road to Mandalay I am sick o' wastin' leather on these gutty pavin' -stones, An' the blasted Henglish drizzle wakes the fever in my bones ; Tho' I walks with fifty 'ousemaids outer Chelsea to the Strand, An' they talks a lot o' lovin', but wot do they understand ? Beefy face an' grubby 'and Law ! wot do they understand ? I've a neater, sweeter maiden in a cleaner, greener land ! On the road to Mandalay Ship me somewheres east of Suez where the best is like the worst. Where there aren't no Ten Commandments, an' a man can raise a thirst; MANDALAY. 75 For the temple-bells are callin', an' it's there that I would be By the old Moulmein Pagoda, lookin' lazy at the sea On the road to Mandalay, Where the old Flotilla lay, With our sick beneath the awnings when we went to Mandalay ! Oh, the road to Mandalay, Where the flyin'-fishes play, An' the dawn comes up like thunder outer China 'crost the Bay The Young British Soldier. WHEN the 'arf-made recruity goes out to the East 'E acts like a babe an' 'e drinks like a beast, An' 'e wonders because 'e is frequent de- ceased Ere 'e's fit for to serve as a soldier. Serve, serve, serve as a soldier, Serve, serve, serve as a soldier, Serve, serve, serve as a soldier, So-oldier hof the Queen ! Now all you recruities what's drafted to-day, You shut up your rag-box an' 'ark to my lay, An' I'll sing you a soldier as far as I may : A soldier what's fit for a soldier. Fit, fit, fit for a soldier First, mind you steer clear o' the grog-sellers' huts, For they sell you Fixed Bay 'nets that rots o*z,t vour (7o, THE YOUNG BRITISH SOLDIER. 77 A drink that 'ud eat the live steel from your butts An' it's bad for the young British soldier. Bad, bad, bad for the soldier When the cholera comes as it will past a doubt Keep out of the wet and don't go on the shout, For the sickness comes in as the liquor dies out, An' it crumples the young British soldier. Crum-, crum-, crumples the soldier But the worst o' your foes is the sun over'ead; You must wear your 'elmet for all that is said. If 'e finds you uncovered 'e'll knock you down dead, An' you'll die like a fool of a soldier. Fool, fool, fool of a soldier If you're cast for fatigue by a sergeant unkind, Don't grouse like a woman nor crack on nor blind ; Be handy and civil, and then you will find As it's beer for the young British soldier. Beer, beer, beer for the soldier 78 BALLADS. Now, if you must marry, take care she is old A troop-sergeant's widow's the nicest I'm told For beauty won't help if your vittles is cold, An' love ain't enough for a soldier. 'Nough, 'nough, 'nough for a soldier If the wife should go wrong with a comrade, be loath To shoot when you catch 'em you'll swing, on my oath ! Make 'im take 'er and keep 'er; that's hell for them both, An' you're quit o' the curse of a soldier. Curse, curse, curse of a soldier When first under fire an' you're wishful to duck, Don't look or take 'eed at the man that is- struck, Be thankful you're livin' an' trust to your luck, An' march to your front like a soldier. Front, front, front like a solder. THE YOUXG BRITISH SOLDIER. 79 When 'arf of } r our bullets fly wide in the ditch, Don't call your Martini a cross-eyed old bitch ; She's human as your are you treat her as sich, An' she'll fight for the young British soldier. Fight, fight, fight for the soldier When shakin' their bustles like ladies so fine The guns o' the enemy wheel into line ; Shoot low at the limbers and don't mind the shine, For noise never startles the soldier. Start-, start-, startles the soldier If your officer's dead and the sergeants look white, Remember it's ruin to run from a fight ; So take open order, lie down, and sit tight, An' wait for supports like a soldier. Wait, wait, wait like a soldier When you're wounded an' left on Afghanis- tan's plains, An' the women come out to cut up your remains. 80 BALLADS. Jest roll to your rifle an' blow out your brains, An' go to your Gawd like a soldier: Go, go, go like a soldier, Go, go, go like a soldier, Go, go, go like a soldier, So-oldier hqf the Queen. Screw-Guns. SMOKIN' my pipe on the mountings, sniffin* the mornin'-cool, I walks in my old brown gaiters along o' my old brown mule, With seventy gunners be'ind me, an' never a beggar forgets It's only the pick o' the Army that handles the dear little pets Tss ! Tss ! For you all love the screw-guns the screw-guns they all love you. So when we call round with a few guns, o' course you will know what to do hoo ! hoo! Jest send in your Chief an' surrender it's worse if you fights or you runs : You can go where you please, you can skid up the trees, but you don't get away from the guns. They send us along where the roads are, but mostly we goes where they ain't ; We'd climb up the side of a sign-board, an' trust to the stick o' the paint ; 6 (81) 82 BALLADS. We've chivied the Naga an' Lushai, we've give the Afreedeeman fits, For we fancies ourselves at two thousand, we guns that are built in two bits Tss ! Tss! For you all love the screw-guns If a man doesn't work, why, we drills 'im an' teaches 'im 'ow to be'ave; If a beggar can't march, why, we kills 'im an' rattles 'im into 'is grave. You've got to stand up to our business an' spring without snatchin' or fuss. D' you say that you sweat with the field- guns ? By God, you must lather with us Tss! Tss! For you all love the screw-guns The eagles is screamin' around us, the river's a-moanin' below, We're clear o' the pine an' the oak-scrub, we're out on the rocks an' the snow, An' the wind is as thin as a whip-lash what carries away to the plains The rattle an' stamp o' the lead-mules the jinglety-jink o' the chains Tss ! Tss ! For you all love the screw-guns SCREW-GUNS. 83 There's a wheel on the Horns o' the Mornin, an' a wheel on the edge o' the Pit, An' a drop into nothin' beneath us as straight as a beggar can spit ; With the sweat runnia' out o' your shirt- sleeves an' the sun off the snow in your face, An' 'arf o' the men on the drag-ropes to hold the old gun in 'er place Tss ! Tss ! For you all love the screw-guns Smokin' my pipe on the mountings, sniffin' the mornin'-cool, I climbs in my old brown gaiters along o' my old brown mule. The monkey can say what our road was the wild-goat 'e knows where we passed. Stand easy, you long-eared old darlin's ! Out drag-ropes ! With shrapnel ! Hold fast! Tss! Tss! For you all love the screw-guns the screw-guns they all love you ! So when we take tea with a few guns, o' course you will know what to do hoo ! hoo ! 84 BALLADS. Just send in your Chief and surrender it's worse if you fights or you runs : You may hide in the caves, they'll be only your graves, but you don't get away from the guns ! Belts. THERE was a row in Silver Street that's near to Dublin Quay, Between an Irish regiment an' English cav- alree ; It started at Revelly an' it lasted on till dark; The first man dropped at Harrison's, the last forninst the Park. For it was "Belts, belts, belts, an' that's one for you!'' An' it was " Belts, belts, belts, an' that's done for you!" buckle an' tongue Was the song that we sung From Harrison's on to the Park ! There was a row in Silver Street the regi- ments was out, They called us " Delhi Rebels," an' we an- swered " Threes about !" (85) 86 BALLADS. That drew them like a hornet's nest we met them good an' large, The English at the double an' the Irish at the charge. Then it was : Belts There was a row in Silver Street an' I was in it too ; We passed the time o' day, an' then the belts went whirraru ; I misremember what occurred, but subse- quint the storm A Freeman's Journal Supplemint was all my uniform. it was : Belts There was a row in Silver Street they sent the Polis there, The English were too drunk to know, the Irish didn't care ; But when they grew impertinent we simul- taneous rose, Till half o' them was Liffey mud an' half was tatthered clo'es. For it was : Belts BELTS. 87 There was a row in Silver Street it might ha' raged till now, But some one drew his side-arm clear, an' nobody knew how ; 'Twas Hogan took the point an' dropped ; we saw the red blood run : An' so we all was murderers that started out in fun. While it was : Belts There was a row in Silver Street but that took off the shine, Wid each man whishperin' to his next : " 'Twas never work o' mine !" We went away like beaten dogs, an' down the street we bore him, The poor dumb corpse that couldn't see the bhoys were sorry for him. When it was : Belts There was a row in Silver Street it isn't over yet, For half of us are under guard wid pun- ishmints to get ; " 'Tis all a mericle to me as in the Clink I lie ; There was a row in Silver Street begod, I wonder why ! , 88 BALLADS. But it was "Belts, belts, belts, an' that's one for you !" An' it was " Belts, belts, belts, an' that's done for you !" buckle an' tongue Was the song that we sung From Harrison's down to the Park 1 To the Unknown Goddess. WILL you conquer my heart with your beauty ; my soul going out from afar? Shall I fall to your hand as a victim of crafty and cautious shikar f Have I met you and passed you already, unknowing, unthinking, arid blind ? Shall I meet you next session at Simla, sweetest and best of your kind ? Does the P. and O. bear you to me-ward, or, clad in short frocks in the West, Are you growing the charms that shall cap- ture and torture the heart in my breast ? Will you stay in the Plains till September my passion as warm as the day ? Will you bring me to book on the Moun- tains, or where the thermantidotes play ? When the light of your eyes shall make pallid the mean lesser lights I pursue, And the charm of your presence shall lure me from love of the gay '' thirteen-two ;" (89) 90 BALLADS. When the peg and the pig-skin shall please not; when I buy me Calcutta-built clothes ; When I quit the Delight of Wild Asses ; for- swearing the swearing of oaths ; As a deer to the hand of the hunter when I turn 'mid the gibes of my friends ; When the days of my freedom are num- bered, and the life of the bachelor ends. Ah Goddess ! child, spinster, or widow as of old on Mars Hill when they raised To the God that they knew not an altar so I, a young Pagan, have praised The Goddess I know not nor worship ; yet, if half that men tell me be true, You will come in the future, and therefore these verses are written to you. La Nuit Blanche. A MUCH-DISCERNING Public hold The Singer generally sings Of personal and private things, And prints and sells his past for gold. Whatever I may here disclaim, The very clever folk I sing to Will most Indubitably cling to Their pet delusion, just the same. I HAD seen, as dawn was breaking And I staggered to my rest, Tari Devi softly shaking From the Cart Road to the crest. I had seen the spurs of Jakko Heave and quiver, swell and sink. Was it Earthquake or tobacco. Day of Doom or Night of Drink ? In the full, fresh; fragrant morning I observed a camel crawl, Laws of gravitation scorning, On the ceiling and the wall ; Then I watched a fender walking, And I heard gray leeches sing, And a red-hot monkey talking Did not seem the proper thing. (91) 92 BALLADS. Then a Creature, skinned and crimson, Ran about the floor and cried, And they said I had the " jims " on, And they dosed me with bromide, And they locked me in my bedroom Me and one wee Blood Red Mouse Though I said : " To give my head room " You bad best unroof the house." But my words were all unheeded, Though I told the grave M.D. That the treatment really needed Was a dip in open sea That was lapping just below me, Smooth as silver, white as snow, And it took three men to throw me When I found I could not go. Half the night I watched the Heavens Fizz like '81 champagne Fly to sixes and to sevens, Wheel and thunder back again ; And when all was peace and order Save one planet nailed askew, Much I wept because my warder Would not let me set it true. LA SUIT BLANCHE. After frenzied hours of waiting, When the Earth and Skies were dumb, Pealed an awful voice dictating An interminable sum, Changing to a tangled story " What she said you said I said " Till the Moon arose in glory, And I found her ... in my head ; Then a Face came blind and weeping,. And It couldn't wipe Its eyes, And It muttered I was keeping Back the moonlight from the skies ;, So I patted it for pity, But It whistled shrill with wrath, And a hugh black Devil City Poured its peoples on my path. So I fled with steps uncertain On a thousand-year long race, But the bellying of the curtain Kept me always in one place ; While the tumult rose and maddened: To the roar of Earth on fire, Ere it ebbed and sank and saddened To a whisper tense as wire. 94 BALLADS, In intolerable stillness Rose one little, little star, And it chuckled at my illness, And it mocked me from afar ; And its brethren came and eyed me, Called the Universe to aid, Till I lay with naught to hide me, 'Neath the Scorn of All Things Made. Dun and saffron, robed and splendid, Broke the solemn, pitying Day, And I knew my pains were ended, And I turned and tried to pray ; But my speech was shattered wholly, And I wopt as children weep, Till the dawn-wind, softly, slowly, Brought to burning eyelids sleep. My Rival. I GO to concert, party, ball What profit is in these ? I sit alone against the wall And strive to look at ease. The incense that is mine by right They burn before Her shrine ; And that's because I'm seventeen And She is forty-nine. I cannot check my girlish blush, My color comes and goes ; I redden to my finger-tips, And sometimes to my nose. But she is white where white should be, And red where red should shine. The blush that flies at seventeen Is fixed at forty-nine. I wish / had Her constant cheek : I wish that I could sing All sorts of funny little songs, Not quite the proper thing. (95) '96 BALLADS. I'm very gauche and very shy, Her jokes aren't in my line ; And, worst of all, I'm seventeen While She is forty-nine. The young men come, the young men go, Each pink and white and neat, She's older than their mothers, but They grovel at Her feet. They walk beside Her 'rickshaw wheels None ever walk l>y mine ; And that's because I'm seventeen And She is forty -nine. She rides with half a dozen men, (She calls them " boys " and " mashers ") I trot along the Mall alone ; My prettiest frocks and sashes Don't help to fill my programme-card, And vainly I repine From ten to two A.M. Ah me ! Would I were forty-nine ! She calls me " darling," " pet," and " dear," And " sweet retiring maid." I'm always at the back, I know, She puts me in the shade. MY RIVAL. 9T She introduces me to men, " Cast " Lovers, I opine, For sixty takes to seventeen, Nineteen to forty-nine. But even she must older grow And end her dancing days, She can't go on forever so At concerts, balls, and plays. One ray of priceless hope I see Before my footsteps shine ; Just think, that She'll be eighty-one When I am forty-nine. The Lovers' Litany. EYES of gray a sodden quay, Driving rain and falling tears, As the steamer wears to sea In a parting storm of cheers. Sing, for Faith and Hope are high- None so true as you and I Sing the Lovers' Litany : "Love like ours can never die I" Eyes of black a throbbing keel, Milky foam to left and right ; Whispered converse near the wheel In the brilliant tropic night. Cross that rules the Southern Sky ! Stars that sweep and wheel and fly, Hear the Lovers' Litany : " Love like ours can never die /" Eyes of brown a dusty plain Split and parched with heat of June, Flying hoof and tightened rein, Hearts that beat the old, old tune. (98) THE LOVERS' LITANY. 99 Side by side the horses fly, Frame we now the old reply Of the Lovers' Litany : " Love like ours can never die /" Eyes of blue the Simla Hills Silvered with the moonlight hoar; Pleading of the waltz that thrills, Dies nnd echoes round Benmore. "Mabel," "Officers,"" Good-by," Glamour, wine, and witchery On my soul's sincerity, " Love like ours can never die /" Maidens, of your charity, Pity my most luckless state. Four times Cupid's debtor I Bankrupt in quadruplicate. Yet, despite this evil case, An a maiden showed me grace, Four-and-forty times would I Sing the Lovers' Litany : " Love like ours can never die !" A Ballad of Burial. (" Saint Praxcd's ever was the Church for peace."} IF down here I chance to die, Solemnly I beg you take All that is left of " I," To the Hills for old sake's sake. Pack me very thoroughly In the ice that used to slake Pegs I drank when I was dry This observe for old sake's sake. To the railway station hie, There a single ticket take For Umballa goods-train I Shall not mind delay or shake. I shall rest contentedly Spite of clamor coolies make; Thus in state and dignity Send me up for old sake's sake. Next the sleepy Babu wake, Book a Kalka van " for four." Few, I think, will care to make Journeys with me any more (100) A BALLAD OF BURIAL. 101 As they used to do of yore. I shall need a " special ' ' break Thing I never took before Get me one for old sake's sake. After that arrangements make. No hotel will take me in, And a bullock's back would break 'Neath the teak and leaden skin. Tonga ropes are frail and thin, Or, did I a back-seat take, In a tonga I might spin, Do your best for old sake's sake. After that your work is done. Recollect a Padre must Mourn the dear departed one Throw the ashes and the dust. Don't go down at once. I trust You will find excuse to " snake Three days' casual on the bust," Get your fun for old sake's sake. I could never stand the Plains. Think of blazing June and May, Think of those September rains Yearly till the Judgment Day ! 102 B ALL ADS. I should never rest in peace, I should sweat and lie awake. Bail me then, on my decease, To the Hills for old sake's sake. Divided Destinies. IT was an artless Bandar, and he danced upon a pine, And much I wondered how he lived, and where the beast might dine, And many, many other things, till, o'er my morning smoke, I slept the sleep of idleness and dreamt that Bandar spoke. He said : " O man of many clothes I Sad crawler on the Hills ! Observe, I know not Ranken's shop, nor Ranken's monthly bills ; I take no heed to trousers or the coats that you call dress ; Nor am I plagued with little cards for little drinks at Mess. "I steal the bunnia's grain at morn, at noon and eventide, (For he is fat and I am spare), I roam the mountain side, (103) 104 BALLADS. I follow no man's carriage,' and no, never in my life Have I flirted at Peliti's with another Ban- dar's wife. "0 man of futile fopperies unnecessary wraps ; I own no ponies in the hills, I drive no tall- wheeled traps ; I buy me not twelve-button gloves, ' short- sixes ' eke, or rings, Nor do I waste at Hamilton's my wealth on 4 pretty things.' u I quarrel with my wife at home, we never fight abroad ; But Mrs. B. has grasped the fact I am her only lord. I never heard of fever dumps nor debts de- press my soul ; And I pity and despise you !" Here he pouched my breakfast-roll. His hide was very mangy, and his face was very red, And ever and anon he scratched with en- ergy his head. ' DIVIDED DESTINIES. 105 His manners were not always nice, but how my spirit cried To be an artless Bandcvr loose upon the mountain side ! So I answered : " Gentle Bandar, an inscru- table Decree Makes thee a gleesome fleasome Thou, and me a wretched Me. Go ! Depart in peace, my brother, to thy home amid the pine ; Yet forget not once a mortal wished to change his lot with thine." The Masque of Plenty. ARGUMENT. The Indian Government, being minded to discover the economic condition of their lands, sent a Com- mittee to inquire into it ; and saw that it was good. SCENE. The wooded heights of Simla. The In- carnation of the Government of India in the raiment of the Angel of Plenty sings, to piano- forte accompaniment : " HOW sweet is the shepherd's sweet life ! From the dawn to the even he strays He shall follow his sheep all the day, And his tongue shall be filled with praise (Adagio dim.') Filled with praise !" (Largendo con sp.~) Now this is the position, Go make an inquisition Into their real condition As swiftly as ye may. (p.) Ay, paint our swarthy billions The richest of vermilions Ere two well-led cotillions Have danced themselves away. (106) THE MASQUE OF PLENTY. 107 TURKISH PATROL, as able and intelligent Inves- tigators wind down the Himalayas : What is the state, of the Nation ? What is its occupation ? Hi ! get along, get along, get along lend us the information ! (Dim.') Census the byle and the yabu cap- ture a first-class Babu, Set him to cut Gazetteers Gazetteers . . . (Jf.) What is the state of the Nation, etc., etc. INTERLUDE, from Nowhere in Particular, to stringed and Oriental instruments. Our cattle reel beneath the yoke they bear The earth is iron, and the skies are brass And faint with fervor of the naming air The languid hours pass. The well is dry beneath the village tree The young wheat withers ere it reach a span, And belts of blinding sand show cruelly Where once the river ran. 108 BALLADS. Pray, brothers, pray, but to no earthly King Lift up your hands above the blighted grain, Look westward if they please, the Gods shall bring Their mercy with the rain. Look westward bears the blue no brown cloud-bank ? Nay, it is written wherefore should we fly? On our own field and by our cattle's flank Lie down, lie down to die ! SEMI-CHORUS. By the plumed heads of Kings Waving high, Where the tall corn springs O'er the dead. If they rust or rot we die, If they ripen we are fed. Very mighty is the power of our Kings ! THE MASQUE OF PLENTY. 109 Triumphal return to Simla of the Investigators, attired after the manner of Dionysus, lead- ing a pet tiger-cub in wreaths of rhubarb leaves, symbolical of India under medical treatment. They sing : We have seen, we have written behold it, the proof of our manifold toil ! In their hosts they assembled and told it- the tale of the sons of the soil. We have said of the Sickness, "Where is it?" and of Death, "It is far from our ken;" We have paid a particular visit to the afflu- ent children of men. We have trodden the mart and the well- curb we have stooped to the bield and the byre ; And the King may the forces of Hell curb, for the people have all they desire ! Castanets and step-dance: Oh, the dom and the mag and the thakur and the thag, And the not and the brinjaree, And the bunnia and the ryot are as happy and as quiet And as plump as they can be ! 110 BALLADS. Yes, the jam and the jat in his stucco-fronted hut, And the bounding bazugar, By the favor of the King, are as fat as any- thing, They are they are they are ! RECITATIVE, Government of India, with white satin wings and electroplated harp : HOAV beautiful upon the mountains in peace reclining, Thus to be assured that our people are unani- mously dining. And though there are places not so blessed as others in natural advantages, which, after all, was only to be expected, Proud and glad are we to congratulate you upon the work you have thus ably effected. (CVes.) How be-ewtiful upon the mountains I HIRED BAND, brasses only, full chorus : God bless the Squire And all his rich relations Who teach us poor people We eat our proper rations THE MASQUE OF PLENTY. Ill We eat our proper rations, In spite of inundations, Malarial exhalations, And casual starvations, We have, we have, they say we have We have our proper rations ! (Cornet.') Which nobody can deny ! If he does he tells a lie We are all as willing as Barkis We all of us loves the Markiss We all of us stuffs our ca-ar-kis With food until we die ! (Da capo.} CHORUS OF THE CRYSTALLIZED FACTS. Before the beginning of years There came to the rule of the State Men with a pair of shears, Men with an Estimate Strachey with Muir for leaven, Lytton with locks that fell, Ripo-n fooling with Heaven, And Temple riding like H-ll ! BALLADS. And the bigots took in hand Cess and the falling of rain, And the measure of sifted sand The dealer puts in the grain Imports by land and sea, To uttermost decimal worth, And registration free In the houses of death and of birth : And fashioned with pens and paper, And fashioned in black and white, With Life for a flickering taper And Death for a blazing light With the Armed and the Civil Power. That his strength might endure for a span, From Adam's Bridge to Peshawur, The Much Administered man. In the towns of the North and the East, They gathered us unto rule, They bade him starve the priest And send his children to school. Railways and roads they wrought, For the needs of the soil within ; A time to squabble in court, A time to bear and to grin. THE MASQUE OF PLENTY. And gave him peace in his ways, Jails and Police to fight, Justice at length of days, And Right and Might in the Right. His speech is of mortgaged bedding, On his kine he borrows yet, At his heart is his daughter's wedding, In his eye foreknowledge of debt. He eats and hath indigestion, He toils and he may not stop ; His life is a long-drawn question Between a crop and a crop. The Mare's Nest. JANE Austen Beecher Stowe de Rouse Was good beyond all earthly need ; But, on the other hand, her spouse Was very, very bad indeed. He smoked cigars, called churches slow, And raced but this she did not know. For Belial Machiavelli kept The little fact a secret, and, Though o'er his minor sins she wept, Jane Austen did not understand That Lilly thirteen-two and bay? Absorbed one-half her husband's pay. She was so good, she made him worse ; (Some women are like this, I think ;) He taught her parrot how to curse, Her Assam monkey how to drink. He vexed her righteous soul until She went up, and he went down hill. (114) THE HA RE'S NEST. 115 Then came the crisis, strange to say, Which turned a good wife to a better. A telegraphic peon, one day, Brought her now, had it been a letter For Belial Machiavelli, I Know Jane would just have let it lie. But 'twas a telegram instead, Marked " urgent," and her duty plain To open it. Jane Austen read : " Your Lilly's got a cough again. Can't understand why she is kept At your expense." Jane Austin wept. It was a misdirected wire. Her husband was at Shaitanpore. She spread her anger, hot as fire, Through six thin foreign sheets or more, Sent off that letter, wrote another To her solicitor and mother. Then Belial Machiavelli saw Her error and, I trust, his own, Wired to the minion of the Law, And travelled wifeward not alone. For Lilly thirteen-two and bay Came in a horse-box all the way. 116 BALLADS. There was a scene a weep or two With many kisses. Austen Jane Bode Lilly all the season through, And never opened wires again. She races now with Belial. Thig Is very sad, but so it is. Christmas in India. DIM dawn behind the tamarisks the sky is saffron-yellow As the women in the village grind the corn, And the parrots seek the river-side, each calling to his fellow That the Day, the staring Eastern Day is born. Oh the white dust on the highway ! Oh the stenches in the byway ! Oh the clammy fog that hovers over earth ! And at Home they're making merry 'neath the white and scarlet berry What part have India's exiles in their mirth ? Full day behind the tamarisks the sky is blue and staring As the cattle crawl afield beneath the yoke, (117) 118 BALLADS. And they bear One o'er the field-path, who is past all hope or caring, To the ghat helow the curling wreaths of smoke. Call on Rama, going slowly, as ye bear a brother lowly Call on Rama he may hear, perhaps, your voice ! With our hymn-books and our psalters we appeal to other altars, And to-day we bid " good Christian men rejoice!" High noon behind the tamarisks the sun is hot above us As at Home the Christmas Day is break- ing wan. They will drink our healths at dinner those who tell us how they love us, And forget us till another year be gone ! Oh the toil that needs no breaking! Oh the Heimweh, ceaseless, aching ! Oh the black dividing Sea and alien Plain ! Youth was cheap wherefore we sold it. Gold was good we hoped to hold it, And to-day we know the fulness of our gain. CHRISTMAS IN INDIA. 119 Gray dusk behind the tamarisks the par- rots fly together As the sun is sinking slowly over Home ; And his last ray seems to mock us shackled in a lifelong tether That drags us back howe'er so far we roam. Hard her service, poor her payment she in ancient, tattered raiment India, she the grim Stepmother of our kind. If a year of life be lent her, if her tem- ple's shrine we enter, The door is shut we may not look behind. Black night behind the tamarisks the owls begin their chorus As the conches from the temple scream and bray. With the fruitless years behind us, and the hopeless years before us, Let us honor, my brothers, Christmas Day! Call a truce, then, to our labors let us feast with friends and neighbors, And be merry as the custom of our caste ; 120 BALLADS. t For if " faint and forced the laughter," and if sadness follow after, We are richer by one mocking Christ- mas past* Pagett, M.P. THE toad beneath the harrow known Exactly where each tooth-point goes. The butterfly upon the road Preaches contentment to that toad. PAGETT, M.P., was a liar, and a fluent liar therewith, He spoke of the heat of India as the "Asian Solar Myth ;" Came on a four months' visit, to " study the East," in November, And I got him to sign an agreement vowing to stay till September. March came in with the kbil. Pagett was cool and gay, Called me a " bloated Brahmin," talked of my "princely pay." March went out with the roses. " Where is your heat?" said he. "Coming," said I to Pagett. "Skittles!" said Pagett, M.P. (121) 122 BALLADS. April began with the punkah, coolies, and prickly-heat, Pagett was dear to mosquitoes, sandflies found him a treat. He grew speckled and lumpy hammered, I grieve to say, Aryan brothers who fanned him, in an il- liberal way. May set in with a dust-storm, Pagett went down with the sun. All the delights of the season tickled him one by one. Imprimis ten days' " liver " due to his drinking beer ; Later, a dose of fever slight, but he called it severe. i Dysent'ry touched him in June, after the Chota Bursat Lowered his portly person made him yearn to depart. He didn't call me a "Brahmin," or "bloat- ed," or "overpaid," But seemed to think it a wonder that any one stayed. PAGETT, M.P. 123 July was a trifle unhealthy, Pagett was ill with fear, 'Called it the " Cholera Morbus," hinted that life was dear. He babbled of "Eastern exile," and men- tioned his home with tears ; But I hadn't seen my children for close upon seven years. We reached a hundred and twenty once in the Court at noon, (I've mentioned Pagett was portly) Pagett went off in a swoon. That was an end to the business ; Pagett, the perjured, fled With a practical, working knowledge of " Solar Myths " in his head. And I laughed as I drove from the station, but the mirth died out on my lips As I thought of the fools like Pagett who write of their " Eastern trips," And the sneers of the travelled idiots who duly misgovern the land, And I prayed to the Lord to deliver another one into my hand. The Song of the Women. (Lady Dufferin's Fund for medical aid to the Women of India.) HOW shall she know the worship we would do her ? The walls are high, and she is very far. How shall the women's message reach unto her Above the tumult of the packed bazaar ? Free wind of March, against the lattice blowing, Bear thou our thanks, lest she depart unknowing. Go forth across the fields we may not roam in, Go forth beyond the trees that rim the city, To whatsoe'er fair place she hath her home in, Who dowered us with wealth of love and pity- (124) THE SONG OF THE WOMEN. 125-' Out of our shadow pass, and seek her singing " I have no gifts but Love alone for bringing." Say that we be a feeble folk who greet her, But old in grief, and very wise in tears ; Say that we, being desolate, entreat her That she forget us not in after years ; For we have seen the light, and it were grievous To dim that dawning if our lady leave- us. By life that ebbed with none to stanch the failing, By Love's sad harvest garnered in the spring,. When Love in ignorance wept unavailing O'er young buds dead before their blos- soming ; By all the gray owl watched, the pale- moon viewed, In past grim years, declare our grati- tude! By hands uplifted to the Gods that heard not, By gifts that found no favor in their sight. '126 BALLADS. By faces bent above the babe that stirred not, By nameless horrors of the stifling night ; By ills foredone, by peace her toils discover, Bid Earth bo good beneath and Heaven above her ! If she have sent her servants in our pain, If she have fought with Death and dulled his sword ; If she have given back our sick again, And to the breast the weakling lips restored, Is it a little thing that she has wrought? Then Life and Death and Motherhood be nought. Go forth, wind, our message on thy wings, And they shall hear thee pass and bid thee speed, In reed-roofed hut, or white-walled home of kings, Who have been helpen by her in their need. THE SONG OF THE WOMEN. 127 All spring shall give thee fragrance, and the wheat Shall be a tasselled floorcloth to thy feet. Haste, for our hearts are with thee, take no rest ! Loud-voiced ambassador, from sea to sea Proclaim the blessing, manifold, confest, Of those in darkness by her hand set free, Then very softly to her presence move, And whisper : " Lady, lo, they know and love!" Ballad of Fisher's Boarding-House. THAT night, when through the mooring-chains The wide-eyed corpse rolled free, To blunder down by Garden Reach And rot at Kedgeree, The tale the Hughli told the shoal The lean shoal told to me. 'TWAS Fultah Fisher's boarding-house Where sailor-men reside, And there were men of all the ports From Mississip to Clyde, And regally they spat and smoked, And fearsomely they lied. They lied about the purple Sea That gave them scanty bread, They lied about the Earth beneath, The Heavens overhead, For they had looked too often on Black rum when that was red. They told their tales of wreck and wrong, Of shame and lust and fraud, They backed their toughest statements with The Brimstone of the Lord, And crackling oaths went to and fro Across the fist- banged board. (123) BALLAD OF FISHER'S BOAEDING-HO USE. 129 And there was Hans the blue-eyed Dane. Bull-throated, bare of arm, Who carried on his hairy chest The maid Ultruda's charm The little silver crucifix That keeps a man from harm. And there was Jake Without-the-Ears, And Pamba the Malay, And Carboy Gin the Guinea cook, And Luz from Vigo Bay, And Honest Jack who sold them slops And harvested their pay. And there was Salem Hardieker, A lean Bostonian he Russ, German, English, Halfbreed, Finn, Yank, Dane, and Portugee, At Fultah Fisher's boarding-house They rested from the sea. Now Anne of Austria shared their drinks, Collinga knew her fame, From Tarnau in Galicia To Jaun Bazar she came, To eat the bread of infamy And take the wage of shame. 9 130 BALLADS. She held a dozen men to heel Rich spoil of war was hers, In hose and gown and ring and chain, From twenty mariners, And, by Port Law, that week, men called Her Salem Hardieker's. But seamen learnt what landsmen know- That neither gifts nor gain Can hold a winking Light o' Love Or Fancy's flight restrain, When Anne of Austria rolled her eyes On Hans the blue-eyed Dane. Since Life is strife, and strife means knife, From Howrah to the Bay, And he may die before the dawn Who liquored out the day, In Fultah Fisher's boarding-house We woo while yet we may. But cold was Hans the blue-eyed Dane, Bull-throated, bare of arm, And laughter shook the chest beneath The maid Ultruda's charm The little silver crucifix That keeps a man from harm. BALLAD OF FISHERS BO ARDTxG-HOUSE. 131 " You speak to Salem Hardieker, You was his girl, I know. I ship mineselfs to-morrow, see, Und round the Skaw we go, South, down the Cattegat, by Hjelm, To Besser in Saro." When love rejected turns to hate, All ill betide the man. " You speak to Salem Hardieker" She spoke as woman can. A. scream a sob " He called me names f 1 ' And then the fray began. An oath from Salem Hardieker, A shriek upon the stairs, A dance of shadows on the wall, A knife-thrust unawares And Hans came down, as cattle drop, Across the broken chairs. In Anne of Austria's trembling hands The weary head fell low : " I ship mineselfs to-morrow, straight For Besser in Saro : Und there Ultruda comes to me At Easter, und I go 132 ALL ADS. 41 South, down the Cattegat What's nere ? There are no lights to guide !" The mutter ceased, the spirit passed, And Anne of Austria cried In Fultah Fisher's boarding-house When Hans the mighty died. Thus slew they Hans the blue-eyed Dane, Bull-throated, bare of arm, But Anne of Austria looted first, The maid Ultruda's charm The little silver crucifix That keeps a man from harm. "As the Bell Clinks." AS I left the Halls at Lumley, rose the vision of a comely Maid last season worshipped dumbly, watched with fervor from afar ; And I wondered idly, blindly, if the maid would greet me kindly. That was all the rest was settled by the clinking tonga-bar. Yea, my life and hers were coupled by the tonga coupling-bar. For my misty meditation, at the second changing-station , Suffered sudden dislocation, fled before the tuneless jar Of a Wagner obbligato, scherzo, double-hand staccato, Played on either pony's saddle by the clack- ing tonga-bar Played with human speech, I fancied, by the jigging, jolting bar. (183) 134 BALLADS. "She was sweet," thought I, "last season, but 'twere surely wild unreason Such tiny hope to freeze on as was offered by my Star, When she whispered, something sadly : ' I we feel your going badly!'" " And you let the chance escape you ?" rapped the rattling tonga-bar. " What a chance and what an idiot /" clicked the vicious tonga-bar. Heart of man oh, heart of putty ! Had I gone by Kakahutti, 'On the old Hill-road and rutty, I had 'scaped that fatal car, But his fortune each must bide by, so I watched the milestones slide by, To " You call on Her to-morrow /" fugue with cymbals by the bar " You must call on Her to-morrow!" post- horn gallop by the bar. Yet a further stage my goal on we were whirling down to Solon, With a double lurch and roll on, best foot foremost, ganz und gat "AS THE BELL CLINKS." 135 " She was very sweet," I hinted. " If a kiss had been imprinted ?" " 'Would ha* saved a world of trouble /" clashed the busy tonga-bar. " 'Been accepted or rejected /" banged and clanged the tonga-bar. Then a notion wild and daring, 'spite the income tax's paring, And a hasty thought of sharing less than many incomes are, Made me put a question private, you can guess what I would drive at. " You must work the sum to prove it" clanked the careless tonga-bar. " Simple Rule of Two will prove it" lilted back the tonga-bar. It was under Khyraghaut I mused : " Sup- pose the maid be haughty (There are lovers rich and forty) wait some wealthy Avatar? , Answer, monitor untiring, 'twixt the ponies twain perspiring!" " Faint heart never won fair lady" creaked the straining tonga-bar. " Can I tell you ere you ask Her ?" pounded slow the tonga-bar. 136 BALLADS. Last, the Tara Devi turning showed the lights of Simla burning, Lit my little lazy yearning to a fiercer flame by far. As below the Mall we jingled, through my very heart it tingled Did the iterated order of the threshing tonga- bar "Try your luck you can't do better!" twanged the loosened tonga-bar. An Old Song. SO long as 'neath the Kalka hills- The tonga-horn shall ring, So long as down the Solon dip The hard-held ponies swing, So long as Tara Devi sees The lights o' Simla town, So long as Pleasure calls us up, And duty drives us down, If you lave me as I love you, What pair so happy as we two f So long as Aces take the King, Or backers take the bet, So long as debt leads men to wed, Or marriage leads to debt, So long as little luncheons, Love, And scandal hold their vogue, While there is sport at Annandale Or whiskey at Jutogh, If you love me as I love you, What knife can cut our love in two f (137) 138 BALLADS. So long as down the rocking floor The raving polka spins, So long as Kitchen Lancers spur The maddened violins, So long as through the whirling smoke We hear the oft-told tale : " Twelve hundred in the Lotteries," And Whatshername for sale ? If you love me as I love you, We'll play the game and win it too. So long as Lust or Lucre tempt Straight riders from the course, So long as with each drink we pour Black brewage of Remorse, So long as those unloaded guns We keep beside the bed Blow off, by obvious accident, The lucky owner's head, , If you love me as I love you, What can Life kill or Death undo f So long as Death 'twixt dance and danc Chills best and bravest blood, And drops the reckless rider down The rotten, rain-soaked khud, AN OLD SONG. 139 So long as rumors from the North Make loving wives afraid, So long as Burma takes the boy And typhoid kills the maid, If you love me as J love you, What knife can cut our love in two f By all that lights our daily life Or works our lifelong woe, From Boileaugunge to Simla Downs And those grim glades below. Where, heedless of the flying hoof And clamor overhead, Sleep, with the gray langur for guard, Our very scornful Dead, If you love me as I love you, All Earth is servant to us two f By Docket, Billetuoux, and File, By Mountain, Cliff, and Fir, By Fan and Sword and Office-box, By Corset, Plume, and Spur, By Riot, Revel, Waltz, and War, By Women, Work, and Bills, By all the life that fizzes in The everlasting Hills, If you love me as Hove you, TFTiaZ pair so happy as we two f Certain Maxims of Hafiz. IF It be pleasant to look on, stalled in the packed serai, Does not the Young Man try Its temper and pace ere he buy ? If She be pleasant to look on, what does the Young Man say ? " Lo ! She is pleasant to look on, give Her to me to-day!" ii. Yea, though a Kafir die, to him is remitted Jehannum If he borrowed in life from a native at sixty per cent, per annum. in. Blister we not for bursati f So when the heart is vext, The pain of one maiden's refusal is drowned in the pain of the next. (140) CERTAIN MAXIMS OF UAFIZ. 141 IV. The temper of chums, the love of your wife, and a new piano's tune Which of the three will you trust at the end of an Indian June ? v. Who are the rulers of Ind to whom shall we bow the knee ? Make your peace with the women, and men will make you L. G. VI. Does the woodpecker flit round the young jerash? Does grass clothe a new-built wall ? Is she under thirty, the woman who holds a boy in her thrall ? VII. If She grow suddenly gracious reflecc. Is it all for thee? The black-buck is stalked through the bul- lock, and Man through jealousy. 142 BALLADS. VIII. Seek not for favor of women. So shall you find it indeed. Does not the boar break cover just when you're lighting a weed ? IX. If He play, being young and unskilful, for shekels of silver and gold, Take His money, my son, praising Allah, The kid was ordained to be sold. x. With a " weed " among men or horses verily this is the best, That you work him in office or dog-cart lightly but give him no rest. XI. Pleasant the snaffle of Courtship, improving the manners and carriage ; But the colt who is wise will abstain from the terrible thorn-bit of Marriage. CERTAIN MAXIMS OF HAFIZ. 143 XII. As the thriftless gold of the babul, so is the gold that we spend On a Derby Sweep, or our neighbor's wife. or the horse that we buy from a friend. XIII. The ways of man with a maid be strange, yet simple and tame To the ways of a man with a horse, when selling or racing that same. XIV. In public Her face turneth to thee, and pleasant Her smile when ye meet. It is ill. The cold rocks of El-Gidar smile thus on the waves at their feet. In public Her face is averted, with anger She nameth thy name. It is well. "Was there ever a loser content with the loss of the game ? xv. If She have spoken a word, remember thy lips are sealed, And the Brand of the Dog is upon him by whom is the secret revealed. 144 BALLADS. If She have written a letter, delay not an in- stant, but burn it. Tear it in pieces, FooL and the wind to her mate shall return it ! If there be trouble to Herward, and a lie of the blackest can clear, Lie, "while thy lips can move or a man is alive to hear. XVI. My Son, if a maiden deny thee and scuf- flingly bid thee give o'er, Yet lip meets with lip at the lastward get out! She has been there before. They are pecked on the ear and the chin and the nose who are lacking in lore. XVII. If we fall in the race, though we win, the hoof-slide is scarred on the course. Though Allah and Earth pardon Sin, re- maineth forever Remorse. XVIII. " By all I am misunderstood !" if the Matron shall say, or the Maid : "Alas! I do not understand," my son, be thou nowise afraid. CERTAIN MAXIMS OF HAFIZ. 145 In vain in the sight of the Bird is the net of the fowler displayed. XIX. My son, if I, Hafiz, thy father, take hold of thy knees in my pain, Demanding thy name on stamped paper, one day, or one hour refrain. Are the links of thy fetters so light that thou era vest another man's chain ? The Grave of the Hundred Head, THERE'S a widow in sleepy Chester Who weeps for her only son ; There's a grave on the Pabeng River, A grave that the Burmans shun, And there's Subadar Prag Tewarri Who tells how the work was done. A Snider squibbed in the jungle,' Somebody laughed and fled, And the men of the First Shikaris Picked up their Subaltern dead, With a big blue mark in his forehead And the back blown out of his head. Subadar Prag Tewarri, Jemadar Hira Lai, Took command of the party, Twenty rifles in all, Marched them down to the river As the day was beginning to fall. (146) THE GRAVE OF THE HUNDRED HEAD. 147 They buried the boy by the river, A blanket over his face They wept for their dead Lieutenant, The men of an alien race They made a samddh in his honor, A mark for his resting-place. For they swore by the Holy Water, They swore by the salt they ate, That the soul of Lieutenant Eshmitt Sahib Should go to his God in state ; With fifty file of Burman To open him Heaven's gate. The men of the First Shikaris Marched till the break of day, Till they came to the rebel village, The village of Pabengmay A jirtgal covered the clearing, Calthrops hampered the way Subadar Prag Tewarri, Bidding them load with ball, Halted a dozen rifles Under the village wall ; Sent out a flanking-party With Jemadar Hira Lai. 148 BALLADS. The men of the First Shikaris Shouted and smote and slew, Turning the grinning jingal On to the howling crew. The Jemadar's flanking-party Butchered the folk who flew. Long was the morn of slaughter, Long was the list of slain, Five score heads were taken, Five score heads and twain ; And the men of the First Shikaris Went back to their grave again, Each man bearing a basket Red as his palms that day, Red as the blazing village The village of Pabengmay. And the " drip-drip-drip " from the baskets Reddened the grass by the way. They made a pile of their trophies High as a tall man's chin, Head upon head distorted, Set in a sightless grin, Anger and pain and terror Stamped on the smoke-scorched skin. THE GRAVE OF THE HUNDRED HEAD. 149- Subadar Prag Tewarri Put the head of the Boh On the top of the mound of triumph, The head of his son below, With the sword and the peacock-banner That the world might behold and know. Thus the samddh was perfect, Thus was the lesson plain Of the wrath of the First Shikaris The price of a white man slain ; And the men of the First Shikaris Went back into camp again. Then a silence came to the river, A hush fell over the shore, And Bohs that were brave departed, And Sniders squibbed no more ; For the Burmans said, That a kullah's head Must be paid for with heads five score. Tliere's a widow in sleepy Chester Who weeps for her only son; There's a grave on the Pnbeng River , A grave that the Burmans shun, And there's 'Subadar Prag Tewarri Who tells how the work was done. The Overland Mail. (Foot-Service to the Hills. ) EN the name of the Empress of India, make way, O Lords of the Jungle, wherever you roam. The woods are astir at the close of the day We exiles are waiting for letters from Home. Let the robber retreat let the tiger turn tail- In the Name of the Empress, the Overland Mail! With a jingle of bells as the dusk gathers in, He turns to the foot-path that heads up hill The bags on his back and a cloth round his chin, And, tucked in his waist-belt, the Post Office bill: " Despatched on this date, as received by the rail, Per runner, two bags of the Overland Mail." (150) THE OVERLAID MAIL. 151 Is the torrent in spate ? He must ford it or swim. Has the rain wrecked the road? He must climb by the cliff. Does the tempest cry "Halt"? What are" tempests to him ? The Service admits not a "but'' or an " if." While the breath's in his mouth, he must bear without fail, In the 'name of the Empress, the Overland Mail. From aloe to rose-oak, from rose-oak to fir, From level to upland, from upland to crest, From rice-field to rock-ridge, from rock- ridge to spur, Fly the soft sandalled feet, strains the brawny brown chest. From rail to ravine to the peak from the vale Up, up through the night goes the Overland Mail. There's a speck on the hillside, a dot on the road 152 BALLADS. A jingle of bells on the foot-path below There's a scuffle above in the monkey's abode The world is awake, and the clouds are aglow. For the great Sun himself must attend to the hail: " In the name of the Empress, the Overland Maill" What the People Said. (June 21, 1837.) BY the well, where the bullocks go Silent and blind and slow By the field where the young corn dies In the face of the sultry skies, They have heard, as the dull earth hears The voice of the wind of an hour, The sound of the Great Queen's voice : " My God hath given me years, Hath granted dominion and power : And I bid you, Land, rejoice." And the ploughman settles the share More deep in the grudging clod ; For he saith : " The wheat is my care, And the rest is the will of God. He sent the Mahratta spear As He sendeth the rain, And the Mlech, in the fated year, Broke the spear in twain, (153) 154 BALLADS. And was broken in turn. Who knows How our Lords make strife ? It is good that the young wheat grows, For the bread is Life." Then, far and near, as the twilight drew, Hissed up to the scornful dark Great serpents, blazing, of red and blue, That rose and faded, and rose anew, That the Land might wonder and mark. " To-day is a day of days," they said, " Make merry, People, all!" And the Ploughman listened and bowed his head : " To-day and to-morrow God's will," he said, As he trimmed the lamps on the wall. " He sendeth us years that are good, As He sendeth the dearth. He giveth to each man his food, Or Her food to the Earth. Our Kings and our Queens are afar On their peoples be peacfe God bringeth the rain to the Bar, That our cattle increase." And the Ploughman settled the share More deep in the sun-dried clod : WSAT THE PEOPLE SAID. 155 " Mogul, Mahratta, and Mlech from the North, And White Queen over the Seas God raiseth them up and driveth them forth As the dust of tho ploughshare flies in the breeze ; But the wheat and the cattle are all my care And the rest is the will of God." The Undertaker's Horse. " TO-TSCHIN-SHU is condemned to death. How can he drink tea with the Executioner?'' Japanese Proverb. THE eldest son bestrides him And the pretty daughter rides him, And I meet him oft o' mornings on the Course ; And there wakens in my bosom An emotion chill and gruesome A I canter pa-st, the Undertaker's Horse. neither shies ne nor is restive, But a hideousty suggestive Trot, professional and placid, he affects ; And the cadence of his hoof-beats To my mind, this grim reproof beats : " Mend your pace, my friend, I'm coming. Who's the next?" Ahl stud-bred of ill-omen, I have watched the strongest go men Of pith and might and muscle at your heels, (156) THE UNDERTAKER'S HORSE. 15T Down the plantain-bordered highway, (Heaven send it ne'er be my way !) In a lacquered box and jetty upon wheels. Answer, sombre beast and dreary, Where is Brown, the young, the cheery, Smith, the pride of all his friends and half the Force? You were at that last dread dak We must cover at a walk, Bring them back to me, Undertaker's Horse ! With your mane unhogged and flowing, And your curious way of going, And thai business-like black crimping of. your tail, E'en with Beauty on your back, sir, Pacing as a lady's hack, sir, W T hat wonder when I meet you I turn pale T It may be you wait your time, Beast, Till I write my last bad rhyme, Beast, Quit the sunlight, cut the rhyming, drop the glass, Follow after with the others, Where some dusky heathen smothers Us with marigolds in lieu of English grass. 158 BALLADS. Or, perchance, in years to follow, I shall watch your plump sides hollow, See Carnifex (gone lame) become a corse, See old age at last o'erpower you, And the Station Pack devour you, I shall chuckle then, O Undertaker's Horse ! But to insult, gibe, and quest, I've Still the hideously suggestive Trot that hammers out the grim and warn- ing text, And I hear it hard behind me, In what place soe'er I find me : " Sure to catch you sooner or later. Who's the next?" Arithmetic on the Frontier. A GREAT and glorious thing it is To learn, for seven years or so, The Lord knows what of that and this, Ere reckoned fit to face the foe The flying bullet down the Pass, That whistles clear : " All flesh is grass." Three hundred pounds per annum spent On making brain and body meeter For all the murderous intent Comprised in " villanous saltpetre !" And after ask the Yusuizaies What comes of all our 'ologies. A scrimmage in a Border Station A canter down some dark defile Two thousand pounds of education Drops to a ten-rupee jezail The Crammer's boast, the Squadron's pride, Shot like a rabbit in a ride ! (159) 160 BALLADS. No proposition Euclid wrote, No formulae the text-books know, Will turn the bullet from your coat, Or ward the tulwar's downward blow. Strike hard who cares shoot straight who can The odds are on the cheaper man. One sword-knot stolen from the camp Will pay for all the school expenses Of any Kurrum Valley scamp Who knows no word or moods and tenses, But, being blessed with perfect sight, Picks off our messmates left and right. With home-bred hordes the hill-sides teem, The troop-ships bring us one by one, At vast expense of time and steam, To slay Alfridis where they run. The " captives of our bow and spear " Are cheap alas ! as we are dear. One Viceroy Resigns. (Lord Dufferin to Lord Lansdowne. ) SO here's your Empire. No more wine,< then ? Good. We'll clear the Aides and khitmatgars away. (You'll know that fat old fellow with the- knife He keeps the Name Book, talks in English too, And almost thinks himself the Govern- ment.) Youth, Youth, Y'outh ! Forgive me, you're- so young. Forty from sixty twenty years of work And power to back the working. Ay demit You want to know, you want to see, to touch, And, by your lights, to act. It's natural. 1 wonder can I help you. Let me try. You saw what did you see from Bomba}' east? Enough to frighten any one but me? Neat that! It frightened Me in Eighty- Four! You shouldn't take a man from Canada 11 ( 161 ) 162 BALLADS. Arid bid him smoke in. powder-magazines ; Nor with a Reputation such as Bah ! That ghost has haunted me for twenty years. My Reputation now full blown Your fault Yours, with your stories of the strife at Home, Who's up, who's down, who leads and who is led One reads so much, one hears so little here. Well, now's your turn of exile. I go back To Rome and leisure. All roads lead to Rome, Or books the refuge of the destitute. When you . . . that brings me back to In- dia. See ! Start clear. I couldn't. Egypt served my turn. You'll never plumb the Oriental mind, And if you did it isn't worth the toil. Think of a sleek French priest in Canada ; Divide by twenty half-breeds. Multiply By twice the Sphinx's silence. There's your East, And you're as wise as ever. So am I. Accept on trust and work in darkness, strike ONE VICEBO Y RESIGNS. 163 At venture, stumble forward, make your mark, (It's chalk on granite), then thank God no flame Leaps from the rock to shrivel mark and man. I'm clear my mark is made. Three months of drought Had ruined much. It rained and washed away The specks that might have gathered on my Name. I took a country twice the size of France, And shuttered up one doorway in the North. I stand by those. You'll find that both will pay, I pledged my Name on both they're yours to-night. Hold to them they hold fame enough for two. I'm old, but I shall live till Burma pays. Men there not German traders Cr-sthw-te knows You'll find it in my papers. For the North Guns always quietly but always guns. You've seen your Council? Yes, they'll try to rule, 164 BALLADS. And prize their Reputations. Have you met A grim lay -reader with a taste for coins, And faith in Sin most men withhold from God? He's gone to England. R-p-n knew his grip And kicked. A Council always has its H-pes. 'They look for nothing from the West but Death -Or Bath or Bournemouth. Here's their ground. They fight Until the middle classes take them back, One of ten millions plus a C. S. I. Or drop in harness. Legion of the Lost? Not altogether earnest, narrow men, But chiefly earnest, and they'll do your work, And end by writing letters to the Times. (Shall J write letters, answering H-nt-r fawn With R-p-n on the Yorkshire grocers? Ugh!) They have their Reputations. Look to one I work with him the smallest of them all, White-haired, red-faced, who sat the plung- ing horse ONE VICEROY RESIGNS. 165 Out in the garden. He's your right-hand man, And dreams of tilting W-ls-y from the throne, But while he dreams gives work we cannot buy; He has his Reputation wants the Lords By way of Frontier Roads. Meantime, I think, He values very much the hand that falls Upon his shoulder at the Council table Hates cats and knows his business : which is yours. Your business ! Twice a hundred mil- lion souls. Your business! I could tell you what I did Some nights of Eighty-Five, at Simla, worth A Kingdom's ransom. When a big ship drives, God knows to what new reef the man at the wheel v Prays with the passengers. They lose their lives, Or rescued go their way ; but he's no man To take his trick at the wheel again that's T arse 166 BALLADS. Than drowning. Well, a galled Mashobra mule (You'll see Mashobra) passed me on the Mall, And I was some fool's wife had ducked and bowed To show the others I would stop and speak. Then the mule fell three galls, a hand- breadth each, Behind the withers. Mrs. Whatsisname Leers at the mule and me by turns, thweet thoul ! "How could they make him carry such a load !" I saw it isn't often I dream dreams More than the mule that minute smoke and flame From Simla to the haze below. That's weak. You're younger. You'll dream dreams be- fore you've done. You've youth, that's one good workmen that means two Fair chances in your favor. Fate's the third. I know what I did. Do you ask me, "Preach?" I answer by my past or else go back ONE VICEROY RESIGNS. 167 To platitudes of rule or take you thus In confidence and say : " You know the trick : You've governed Canada. 'You know. You know!" And all the while commend you to Fate's hand (Here at the top one loses sight o' God), Commend you, then, to something more than you The Other People's blunders and . . . that's all. I'd agonize to serve you if I could. It's incommunicable, like the cast That drops the tackle with the gut adry. Too much too little there's your salmon lost! And so I tell you nothing wish you luck, And wonder how I wonder! for your sake And triumph for my own. You're young, you're young, You hold to half a hundred Shibboleths. I'm old. I followed Power to the last, Gave her my best, and Power followed Me. It's worth it on my soul I'm speaking plain, 168 BALLADS. Here by the claret glasses ! vorth it all. I gave no matter what I gave I win. I know I win. Mine's work, good work that live! A country twice the size of France the North Safeguarded. That's my record: sink the rest And better if you can. The Rains may serve, Rupees may rise three pence vill give you Fame It's rash to hope for sixpence 1 f they rise Get guns, more guns, and lift the falt-tax. Oh! I told you what the Congress mer.nt or thought? I'll answer nothing. Half a year will prove The full extent of time and thought you'll spare. To Congress. Ask a Lady Doctor once How little Begums see the light deduce Thence how the True Reformer's child V born. It's interesting, curious . . . and vile. I told the Turk he was a gentleman. I told the Russian that his Tartar veins ONE VICEROY RESIGNS. 169 Bled pure Parisian ichor ; and he purred. The Congress doesn't purr. I think it swears. You're young you'll swear too ere you've reached the end. The End ! God help you, if there be a God. (There must be one to startle Gl-dst-ne's soul In that new land where all the wires are cut, And Cr-ss snores anthems on the asphodel). God help you ! And I'd help you if I could. But that's beyond me. Yes, your speech was crude. Sound claret after olives yours and mine; But Medoc slips into vin ordinaire. (I'll drink my first at Genoa to your health.) Raise it to Hock. You'll never catch my style. And, after all, the middle-classes grip The middle-class for Brompton talk Earl's Court. Perhaps you're right. I'll see you in the Times A quarter-column of eye-searing print, A leader once a quarter then a war ; The Strand abellow through the fog : " De- feat!" " 'Orrible slaughter !" While you lie awake 170 BALLADS. And wonder. Oh, you'll wonder ere you're free ! I wonder now. The four years slide away So fast, so fast, and leave me here alone. R y, C-lv-n, L 1, R-b-rts, B-ck, the rest, Princes and Powers of Darkness, troops and trains, (I cannot sleep in trains), land piled on land, Whitewash and weariness, red rockets, dust, White snows that mocked me, palaces with draughts, And W-stl-nd with the drafts he couldn't . Poor W-ls-n reading his obituary Before he died, and H-pe, the man with bones, And A-tch-s-n a dripping mackintosh At Council in the Rains, his grating "Sirrr" Half drowned by H-nt-r's feilky : " Bat my lahd." Hunterian always : M-rsh-1 spinning plates Or standing on his head ; the Rent Bill's roar, A hundred thousand speeches, much red cloth, And Smiths thrice happy if I call them Jones, ONE VICEROY RESIGNS. 171 (I can't remember half their names) or reined My pony on the Mall to greet their wives. More trains, more troops, more dust, and then all's done. Four years, and I forget. If I forget How will they bear me in their minds ? The North Safeguarded nearly (R-b-rts knows the rest), A country twice the size of France annexed, That stays at least. The rest may pass may pass Your heritage and I can teach you nought. " High trust," " vast honor," " interests twice as vast," " Due reverence to your Council " keep to those. I envy you the twenty years you've gained, But not the five to follow. What's that? One? Two ! Surely not so late. Good-night. Don't dream. The Betrothed '' You must choose between me and your cigar." OPEN the old cigar-box, get me a Cuba stout, . For things are running crossways, and Maggie and I are out. We quarrelled about Havanas we fought o'er a good cheroot, And I know she is exacting, and she says I am a brute. Open the old cigar-box let me consider a space; In the soft blue veil of the vapor, musing on Maggie's face. Maggie is pretty to look at Maggie's a loving lass, But the prettiest cheeks must wrinkle, the truest of loves must pass. (172) THE BETROTHED. ITS There's peace in a Laranaga, there's calm in a Henry Clay, But the best cigar in an hour is finished and thrown away Thrown away for another as perfect and ripe and brown But I could not throw away Maggie for fear o' the talk o' the town ! Maggie, my wife at fifty gray and dour and old With never another Maggie to purchase for love or gold ! And the light of Days that have Been, the dark of the Days that Are, And Love's torch stinking and stale, like the butt of a dead cigar ' The butt of a dead cigar you are bound to keep in your pocket With never a new one to light tho' it's charred and black to the socket. Open the old cigar-box let me consider a while Here is a mild Manilla there is a wifely smile. 174 BALLADS. Which is the better portion bondage bought with a ring, Or a harem of dusky beauties fifty tied in a string ? Counsellors cunning and silent comforters true and tried, And never a one of the fifty to sneer at a rival bride. Thought in the early morning, solace in time of woes, Peace in the hush of the twilight, balm ere my eyelids close. This will the fifty give me, asking nought in return, With only a Suttee's passion to do their duty and burn. This will the fifty give me. When they are spent and dead, Five times other fifties shall be my servants instead. The furrows of far-off Java, the isles of the Spanish Main, When they hear my harem is empty, will send me my brides again. THE BETROTHED. 175 I will take no heed to their raiment, nor food for their mouths withal, So long as the gulls are nesting, so long as the showers fall. I will scent 'em with best vanilla, with tea will I temper their hides, And the Moor and the Mormon shall envy who read of the tale of my brides. For Maggie has written a letter to give me my choice between The wee little whimpering Love and the great god Nick o' Teen. And I have been servant of Love for barely a twelvemonth clear, But I have been Priest of Partagas a matter of seven year ; And the gloom of my bachelor days is necked with the cheery light Of stumps that I burned to Friendship and Pleasure and Work and Fight. And I turn my eyes to the future that Maggie and I must prove, But the only light on the marshes is the Will-o'-the-Wisp of Love. 176 BALLADS. Will it see me safe through my journey, or leave me bogged in the mire ? .Since a pufi of tobacco can cloud it, shall I follow the fitful fire ? Open the old cigar-box let me consider anew Old friends, and who is Maggie that I should abandon you ? A million surplus Maggies are willing to bear the yoke ; And a woman is only a woman, but a good cigar is a Smoke. Light me another Cuba ; I hold to my first- eworn vows, If Maggie will have no rival, I'll have no Maggie for spouse 1 A Tale of Two Cities. WHERE the sober-colored cultivator smiles On his byles; Where the cholera, the cyclone, and the crow Come and go ; Where the merchant deals in indigo and tea, Hides and ghi; W T here the Babu drops inflammatory hints In his prints ; Stands a City Charnock chose it packed away Near a Bay By the sewage rendered fetid, by the sewer Made impure, By the Sunderbunds unwholesome, by the swamp Moist and damp ; And the City and the Viceroy, as we see, Don't agree. Once, two hundred years ago, the trader came Meek and tame. 12 ( 177 ) 178 BALLADS. Where his timid foot first halted, there he stayed, Till mere trade Grew to Empire, and he sent his armies forth South and North Till the country from Peshawar to Ceylon Was his own. Thus the mid-day halt of Charnock more's the pity ! Grew a City. As the fungus sprouts chaotic from its bed, So it spread Chance-directed, chance-erected, laid and built On the silt Palace, byre, hovel poverty and pride Side by side ; And, above the packed and pestilential town, Death looked down. But the Rulers in that City by the Sea Turned to flee Fled, with each returning spring-tide from its ills To the Hills. From the clammy fogs of morning, from the blaze Of the days, A TALE OF TWO CITIES. 179 From the sickness of the noontide, from the heat, Beat retreat ; For the country from Peshawar to Ceylon Was their own. But the Merchant risked the perils of the Plain For his gain. Now the resting-place of Charnock, 'neath the palms, Asks an alms, And the burden of its lamentation is, Briefly, this : " Because, for certain months, we boil and stew, So should you. Cast the Viceroy and his Council to perspire In our fire !" And for answer to the argument, in vain We explain That an amateur Saint Lawrence cannoi "All must fry!" That the Merchant risks the perils of the Plain For his gain, Nor can Rulers rule a house that men grow rich in, From its kitchen. 180 BALLADS. Let the Babu drop inflammatory hints In his prints ; And mature consistent soul his plan for stealing To Darjeeling: Let the Merchant seek, who makes his silver pile, England's isle; Let the City Charnock pitched on evil day! Go Her way. Though the argosies of Asia at Her doors Heap their stores, Though Her enterprise and energy secure Income sure, Though "out-station orders punctually obeyed " Swell her trade Stitt } for rule, administration, and the rest, Simla's best. Griffen's Debt IMPRIMIS he was "broke." Thereafter left His regiment, and, later, took to drink ; Then, having lost the balance of his friends, "Went Fantee" joined the people of the land, Turned three parts Mussulman and one Hindu, And lived among the Gauri villagers, Who gave him shelter and a wife or twain, And boasted that a thorough, full-blood sahib Had come among them. Thus he spent hi time, Deeply indebted to the village shroff, (Who never asked for payment) always drunk, Unclean, abominable, out-at-heels ; Forgetting that he was an Englishman. You know they dammed the Gauri with a dam, And all the good contractors scamped their work, (181) 182 BALLADS. i And all the bad material at hand Was used to dam the Gauri which was cheap, And, therefore proper. Then the Gauri burst, And several hundred thousand cubic tons Of water dropped into the valley, flop, And drowned some five and twenty vil- lagers, And did a lakh or two of detriment To crops and cattle. When the flood went down We found him dead, beneath an old dead horse, Full six miles down the valley. So we said He was a victim to the Demon Drink, And moralized upon him for a week, And then forgot him. Which was natural. But, in the valley of the Gauri, men Beneath the shadow of the big new dam Relate a foolish legend of the flood, Accounting for the little loss of life (Only those five and twenty villagers) In this wise: On the evening of the flood, They heard the groaning of the rotten dam, And voices of the Mountain Devils. Then OEIPF. EWS DEB T. 183 An incarnation of the local God, Mounted upon a monster-neighing horse, And flourishing a flail-like whip, came down, Breathing ambrosia, to the villages, And fell upon the simple villagers With yells beyond the power of mortal throat, And blows beyond the power of mortal hand, And smote them with the flail-like whip, and drove Them clamorous with terror up the hill, And scattered, with the monster-neighing steed, Their crazy cottages about their ears, And generally cleared those villages. Then came the water, and the local God, Breathing ambrosia, flourishing his whip, And mounted on his monster-neighing steed, Went down the valley with the flying trees And residue of homesteads, while they watched Safe on the mountain-side these wondrous things, And knew that they were much beloved of Heaven. 184 BALLADS. Wherefore, and when the dam was newly built, They raised a temple to the local God, And burned all manner of unsavory things Upon his altar and created priests, And blew into a conch, and banged a bell, And told the story of the Gauri flood With circumstance and much embroidery. So he the whiskified Objectionable, Unclean, abominable, out-at-heels, Became the tutelary Deity Of all the Gauri valley villages ; And may in time become a Solar Myth. The Galley-Slave. OH, gallant was our galley from her carven steering-wheel To her figurehead of silver and her beak of hammered steel ; The leg-bar chafed the ankle, and we gasped for cooler air, But no galley on the water with our galley could compare ! Our bulkheads bulged with cotton and our masts were stepped in gold We ran a mighty merchandise of niggers in the hold; The white foam spun behind us, and the black shark swam below, As we gripped the kicking sweep-head and we made that galley go. It was merry in the galley, for we revelled now and then If they wore us down like cattle, faith, we fought and'loved like men ! (185) 186 BALLADS. As we snatched her through the water, so we snatched a minute's bliss, And the mutter of the dying never spoiled the lovers' kiss. Our women and our children toiled beside us in the dark They died, we filed their fetters, and we heaved them to the shark We heaved them to the fishes, but so fast the galley sped, We had only time to envy, for we could not mourn our dead. Bear witness, once my comrades, what a hard-bit gang were we The servants of the sweep-head, but the masters of the sea ! By the hands that drove her forward as she plunged and yawed and sheered, Woman, Man, or God, or Devil, was there anything we feared ? Was it storm ? Our fathers faced it, and a wilder never blew ; Earth that waited for the wreckage watched the galley struggle through. THE GALLEY-SLAVE. 187 Burning noon or choking midnight, Sick- ness, Sorrow, Parting, Death? Nay, our very babes would mock you, had they time for idle breath. But to-day I leave the galley, and anothel takes my place ; There's my name upon the deck-beam let it stand a little space. I am free to watch my messmates beating out to open main, Free of all that Life can offer save to han- dle sweep again. By the brand upon my shoulder, by the gall of clinging steel, By the welt the whips have left me, by the scars that never heal; By eyes grown old with staring through the sun-wash on the brine. I am paid in full for service would that service still were mine ! Yet they talk of times and seasons and of woe the years bring forth, Of our galley swamped and shattered in the rollers of the North. 188 BALLADS. When the niggers break the hatches, and the decks are gay with gore, And a craven-hearted pilot crams her crash- ing on the shore. She will need no half-mast signal, minute- gun, or rocket-flare, When the cry for help goes seaward, she will find her servants there. Battered chain-gangs of the orlop, grizzled drafts of years gone by, To the bench that broke their manhood, they shall lash themselves and die. Hale and crippled, young and aged, paid,. deserted, shipped away Palace, cot, and lazaretto shall make np the- tale that day, When the skies are black above them, and the decks ablaze beneath, And the top-men clear the raffle with their clasp-knives in their teeth. It may be that Fate will give me life and leave to row once more Set some strong man free for fighting as I take awhile his oar. THE EXPLANATION. 189 But to-day I leave the galley. Shall I curse her service then ? God be thanked whate'er comes after, I have lived and toiled with Men I The Explanation. LOVE and Death once ceased their strife At the Tavern of Man's Life. Called for wine, and threw alas ! Each his quiver on the grass. When the bout was o'er they found Mingled arrows strewed the ground. Hastily they gathered then Each the loves and lives of men. Ah, the fateful dawn deceived ! Mingled arrows each one sheaved : Death's dread armory was stored With the shafts he most abhorred : Love's light quiver groaned beneath Venom-headed darts of Death. Thus it was they wrought our woe At the Tavern long ago. Tell me, do our masters know, Loosing blindly as they fly, Old men love while young men die? The Conundrum of the Workshops. WHEN the flush of a new-born sun fell first on Eden's green and gold, Our father Adam sat under the Tree and scratched with a stick in the mould; And the first rude sketch that the world had seen was joy to his mighty heart, Till the Devil whispered behind the leaves : " It's pretty, but is it art?" Wherefore he called to his wife, and fled to fashion his work anew The first of his race who cared a fig for the first, most dread review ; And he left his lore to the use of his sons and that was a glorious gain When the Devil chuckled: "Is it art?" in the ear of the branded Cain. They builded a tower to shiver the sky and wrench the stars apart, Till the Devil grunted behind the bricks : " It's striking, but is it art?" (190) THE CONUNDRUM OF THE WORKSHOPS. 191 The stone was dropped by the quarry-side, and the idle derrick swung, While each man talked of the aims of art, and each in an alien tongue. They fought and they talked in the north and the south, they talked and they fought in the west, Till the waters rose on the jabbering land, and the poor Red Clay had rest Had rest till the dank black-canvas dawn when the dove was preened to start, And the Devil bubbled below the keel: " It's human, but is it art?" The tale is old as the Eden Tree as new as the new-cut tooth For each man knows ere his lip-thatch grows he is master of art and truth ; And each man hears as the twilight nears, to the beat of his dying heart, The Devil drum on the darkened pane: u You did it, but was it art ' We have learned to whittle the Eden Tree to the shape of a surplice-peg, ' We have learned to bottle onr parents twain in the yolk of an addled egg, 192 BALLADS. We know that the tail must wag the dog, as the horse is drawn by the cart ; But the Devil whoops, as he whooped of old : " It's clever, but is it art?" When the flicker of London sun falls faint on the club-room's green and gold, The sons of Adam sit them down and scratch with their pens in the mould They scratch with their pens in the mould of their graves, and the ink and the an- guish start When the Devil mutters behind the leaves: " It's pretty, but is it art?" Now, if we could win to the Eden Tree where the four great rivers flow, And the wreath of Eve is red on the turf as she left it long ago, And if we could come when the sentry slept, and softly scurry through, By the favor of God we might know as much as our father Adam knew. The Gift of the Sea. THE dead child lay in the shroud, And the widow watched beside ; And her mother slept, and the Channel swept The gale in the teeth of the tide. But the widow laughed at all. " I have lost my man in the sea, And the child is dead. Be still," she said, " What more can ye do to me ?" And the widow watched the dead, And the candle gutted low, And she tried to sing the Passing Song That bids the poor soul go. And " Mary take you now," she sang, " That lay against my heart." And " Mary smooth your crib to-night," But she could not say " Depart." 12 ( 193 ) BALLADS. Then came a cry from the sea, But the sea-rime blinded the glass, And "Heard ye nothing, mother?" she said; " "Tis the child that waits to pass." And the nodding mother sighed. " 'Tis a lambing ewe in the whin, For why should the christened soul cry out, That never knew of sin?" " Oh, feet I have held in my hand, Oh, hands at my heart to catch, How should they know the road to go, And how should they lift the latch?" They laid a sheet to the door, With the little quilt atop, That it might not hurt from the cold or t*e dirt, But the crying would not stop. The widow lifted the latch And strained her eyes to see, And opened the door on the bitter shore To let the soul go free. THE GIFT OF THE SEA. 195 There was neither glimmer nor ghost, There was neither spirit nor spark, And " Heard ye nothing, mother ?" she said, " 'Tis crying for me in the dark." And the nodding mother sighed. " 'Tis sorrow makes ye dull; Have ye yet to learn the cry of the tern, Or the wail of the wind-blown gull ?" " The terns are blown inland, The gray gull follows the plough. 'Twas never a bird the voice I heard, mother, I hear it now !" u Lie still, dear lamb, lie still ; The child is passed from harm, 'Tis the ache in your breast that broke your rest, And the feel of an empty arm." She puts her mother aside, " In Mary's name let be ! For the peace of my soul I must go," she said, And she went to the calling sea. 196 BALLADS. In the heel of the wind-bit pier, Where the twisted weed was piled, She came to the life she had missed by an hour, For she came to a little child. She laid it into her breast, And back to her mother she came, But it would not feed, and it would not heedj Though she gave it her own child's name, And the dead child dripped on her breast, And her own in the shroud lay stark ; And, " God forgive us, mother," she " We let it die in the dark !" Evarra and His Gods. Read here, This is the story of Evarra man Maker of Gods in lands beyond the sea. Because the city gave him of her gold, Because the caravans brought turquoises, Because his life was sheltered by the King, So that no man should maim him, none should steal, Or break his rest with babble in the streets When he was weary after toil, he made An image of his God in gold and pearl, With turquoise diadem and human eyes, A wonder in the sunshine, known afar And worshipped by the King ; but, drunk with pride, Because the city bowed to him for God, He wrote above the shrine : " Thus Gods are made, And whoso makes them otherwise shatt die. n And all the city praised him. . . . Then he died. (197) 198 BALLADS. Jlead here the story of Evarra man Maker of Gods in lands beyond the sea. Because his city had no wealth to give, Because the caravans were spoiled afar, Because his life 'was threatened by the King, So that all men despised him in the streets, He hacked the living rock, with sweat and tears, And reared a God against the morning- gold, A terror in the sunshine, seen afar, And worshipped by the King ; but, drunk with pride, Because the city fawned to bring him back, He carved upon the plinth : " Thus Gods are made, And whoso makes them otherwise shall die." And all the people praised him. . . . Then he died. Read here the story of Evarra man Maker of Gods in lands beyond the sea. Because he lived among a simple folk, Because his village was between the hills, Because he smeared his cheeks with blood of ewes, EVARBA AND HIS GODS. 199 He cut an idol from a fallen pine, Smeared blood upon its cheeks, and wedged a shell Above its brows for eye, and gave it hair Of trailing moss, and plaited straw for crown. And all the village praised him for this craft, And brought him butter, honey, milk, and curds. Wherefore, because the shoutings drove him mad, He scratched upon that log : " Thus Gods are made, And whoso makes them otherwise shall die." And all the people praised him. . . . Then he died. Read here the story of Evarra man Maker of Gods in lands beyond the sea. Because his God decreed one clot of blood Should swerve a hair's-breadth from the pulse's path, And chafe his brain, Evarra mowed alone, Rag- wrapped, among the cattle in the fields, Counting his fingers, jesting with the trees, And mocking at the mist, until his God 200 BALLADS. Drove him to labor. Out of dung and horns Dropped in the mire he made a mon- strous God, Abhorrent, shapeless, crowned with plan- tain tufts. And when the cattle lowed at twilight- time, He dreamed it was the clamor of lost crowds, And howled among the beasts : " Thus , Gods are made, And whoso makes them otherwise shall die." Thereat the cattle bellowed. . . . Then he died. Yet at the last he came to Paradise, And found his own four Gods, and that he wrote; And marvelled, being very near to God, What oaf on earth had made his toil God's law, Till God said, mocking : "Mock not. These be thine." Then cried Evarra : "I have sinned !" " Not so. If thou hadst written otherwise, thy Gods F.VARRA AND HIS GODS. 201 Had rested in the mountain and the mine, And I were poorer by four wondrous Gods, And thy more wondrous law, Evarra. Thine, Servant of shouting crowds and lowing kine." Thereat with laughing mouth, but tear-wet eyes, Evarra cast his Gods from Paradise. This is the story of Evarra man Maker of Gods in lands beyond the sea. Public Waste. WALPOLE talks of "a mau and his price." List to a ditty queer The sale of a Deputy- Acting- Vice- Resident-Engineer, Bought like a bullock, hoof and hide, By the Little Tin Gods on the Mountain Side. BY the Laws of the Family Circle 'tis writ- ten in letters of brass That only a Colonel from Chatham can man- age the Railways of State, Because of the gold on his breeks, and the subjects wherein he must pass ; Because in all matters that deal not with Railways his knowledge is great. Now Exeter Battleby Tring had labored from boyhood to eld On the lines of the East and the West, and eke of the North and South ; Many Lines had he built and surveyed im- portant the posts which he held ; And the Lords of the Iron Horse were dumb when he opened his mouth. ( 202 ) PUBLIC WASTE. 203 Black as the raven his garb, and his heresies jettier still Hinting that Railways required lifetimes of study and knowledge ; Never clanked sword by his side Vauban he knew not, nor drill Nor was his name on the list of the men who had passed through the " College." Wherefore the Little Tin Gods harried their little tin souls, Seeing he came not from Chatham, jingled no spurs at his heels, Knowing that, nevertheless, was he first on the Government rolls For the billet of " Railway Instructor to Lit- tle Tin Gods on Wheels." Letters not seldom they wrote him, " having the honor to state," It would be better for all men if he were laid on the shelf: Much would accrue to his bank-book, and he consented to wait Until the Little Tin Gods built him a berth for himself. 204 BALLADS. "Special, well-paid, and exempt from the Law of the Fifty and Five, Even to Ninety and Nine " these were the terms of the pact : Thus did the Little Tin Gods (long may Their Highnesses thrive !) Silence his mouth with rupees, keeping their Circle intact ; Appointing a Colonel from Chatham who managed the Bhamo State line, (The which was one mile and one furlong a guaranteed twenty-inch gauge). So Exeter Battleby Tring consented his claims to resign, And died, on four thousand a month, in the ninetieth year of his age. The Last Department TWELVE hundred million men are spread About this Earth, and I and You Wonder, when You and I are dead, What will those luckless millions do ? " NONE whole or clean," we cry, " or free from stain Of favor.' ' Wait awhile, till we attain The Last Department, where no fraud nor fools, Nor grade nor greed, shall trouble us again. Fear, Favor or Affection what are these To the grim Head who claims our services ? I never knew a wife or interest yet Delay that pukka step, miscalled " decease ;' ' When leave, long over-due, none can deny When idleness of all Eternity Becomes our furlough, and the marigold Our thriftless, bullion-minting Treasury. Transferred to the Eternal Settlement, Each in his straight, wood-scantled office pent, No longer Brown reverses Smith's appeals, Or Jones records his Minute of Dissent. (205) 206 BALLADS. And One, long since a pillar of the Court, As mud between the beams thereof is wrought ; And One who wrote on phosphates for the crops Is subject-matter of his own Report. (These be the glorioua ends whereto we pass Let Him who Is, go call on Him who Was ; And He shall see the mallie steals the slab For currie-grinder, and for goats the grass.) A breath of wind, a Border bullet's flight, A draught of water, or a horse's fright The droning of the fat Sheristadar Ceases, the punkah stops, and falls the night For you or Me. Do those who live decline The step that offers, or their work resign ? Trust me, To-day's Most Indispensables, Five hundred men can take your place or mine. Possibilities. AY, lay him 'neath the Simla pine A fortnight fully to be missed, Behold, we lose our fourth at whist, A chair is vacant where we dine. His place forgets him ; other men Have bought his ponies, guns, and traps, His fortune is the Great Perhaps And that cool rest-house down the glen, Whence he shall hear, as spirits, may, Our mundane revel on the height, Shall watch each flashing 'rickshaw-light Sweep on to dinner, dance, and play. Benmore shall woo him to the ball With lighted rooms and braying band, And he shall hear and understand " Dream Faces " better than us all. For, think you, as the vapors flee Across Sanjaolie after rain, His soul may climb the hill again To each old field of victory. (207) 208 BALLADS. Unseen, who women held so dear, The strong man's yearning to his kind Shall shake at most the window-blind, Or dull awhile the card-room's cheer. In his own place of power unknown, His Light o' Love another's flame, His dearest pony galloped lame, And he an alien and alone. Yet may he meet with many a friend Shrewd shadows, lingering long unseec Among us when " God save the Queen " Shows even "extras " have an end. And, when we leave the heated room, And, when at four the lights expire. The crew shall gather round the fire And mock our laughter in the gloom. Talk as we talked, and they ere death First wanly, dance in ghostly wise, With ghosts of tunes for melodies, And vanish at the morning's breath. In Springtime. MY garden blazes brightly with the rose- bush and the peach, And the koil sings above it, in the siris by the well, From the creeper-covered trellis comes the squirrel's chattering speech, And the blue-jay screams and nutters where the cherry sat-bhai dwell. But the rose has lost its fragance, ana the koil's note is strange ; I am sick of endless sunshine, sick of blossom-burdened bough. Give me back the leafless woodlands where the winds of Springtime range Give me back one day in England, for it's Spring in England now ! Through the pines the gusts are booming, o'er the brown fields blowing chill, From the furrow of the ploughshare streams the fragrance of the loam, ( 209 ) 210 BALLADS. And the hawk nests on the cliff-side and the jackdaw in the hill, And my heart is back in England mid the sights and sounds of Home. But the garland of the sacrifice this wealth of rose and peach is ; Ah! kott, little Jcoil, singing on the siria bough, In my ears the knell of exile your ceaseless bell-like speech is Can you tell me aught of England or of Spring in England now ? A Ballade of Jakko Hill. ONE moment bid the horses wait, - Since tiffin is not laid till three, Below the upward path and straigm You climbed a year ago with me. Love came upon us suddenly And loosed an idle hour to kill A headless, armless armory That smote us both on Jakko Hill. Ah Heaven ! we would wait and wait Through Time and to Eternity ! Ah Heaven ! wt> could conquer Fate With more than Godlike constancy I I cut the date upon a tree Here stand the clumsy figures still :-- " 10-7-85, A.D." Damp with the mist on Jakko Hill. What came of high resolve and great, A*id until Death fidelity ? Whose horse is waiting at your .gate? Whose 'rickshaw-wheels ride over me ? (211) 212 BALLADS. No Saint's, I swear ; and let me see To-night what names your programme fill We drift asunder merrily, As drifts the mist on Jakko Hill ! L'ENVOI. Princess, behold our ancient state Has clean departed ; and we see Twas Idleness we took for Fate That bound light bonds on you and me. Amen ! Here ends the comedy Where it began in all good will ; Since Love and Leave together flee As driven mist on Jakko Hi]! 1 The Plea of the Simla Dancers. Too late, alas ! the song To remedy the wrong ; The rooms are taken from us, swept and garnished for their fate. But these tear-besprinkled pages Shall attest to future ages That we cried against the crime of it too late, alas ! too latet "WHAT have we ever done to bear this grudge ?" Was there no room save only in Benmore For docket, duftar, and for office drudge, That you usurp our smoothest dancing floor? Must babus do their work on polished teak ? Are ball-rooms fittest for the ink you spill ? Was there no other cheaper house to seek ? You might have left them all at Straw- berry Hill. We never harmed you ! Innocent our guise, Dainty our shining feet, our voices low ; And we revolved to divers melodies, And we were happy but a year ago. - To-night, the moon that watched our light- some wiles (213) 214 BALLADS. That beamed upon us through the deo- dars Is wan with gazing on official files, And desecrating desks disgust the stars. Nay ! by the memory of tuneful nights Nay ! by the witchery of flying feet Nay ! by the glamour of fordone delights By all things merry, musical, and meet By wine that sparkled, and by sparkling eyes By wailing waltz by reckless gallop's strain By dim verandas and by soft replies, Give us our ravished ball-room back again ! Or hearken to the curse we lay on you ! The ghosts of waltzes shall perplex your brain, And murmurs of past merriment pursue Your 'wildered clerks that they indite in vain; And, when you count your poor Provincial millions, The only figures that your pen shall frame THE PLEA OF THE SIMLA DANCERS. 215 Shall be the figures of dear, dear cotillions Danced out in tumult long before you came. Yea ! " See Saw " shall upset your estimates, " Dream Faces " shall your heavy heads bemuse, Because your hand, unheeding, desecrates Our temple ; fit for higher, worthier use. And all the long verandas, eloquent With echoes of a score of Simla years, Shall plague you with unbidden sentiment Babbling of kisses, laughter, love, and tears. So shall you mazed amid old memories stand, So shall you toil, and shall accomplish nought, And ever in your ears a phantom Band Shall blare away the staid official thought. Wherefore and ere this awful curse be spoken, Cast out your swarthy sacrilegious train, And give ere dancing cease and hearts be broken Give us our ravished ball-room back again I Two Months. / IN JUNE. NO hope, no change ! The clouds have shut us in, And through the cloud the sullen Sun strikes down Full on the bosom of the tortured Town. Till Night falls heavy as remembered sin That will not suffer sleep or thought of ease. And, hour on hour, the dry-eyed Moon in spite Glares through the haze and mocks with watery light The torment of the uncomplaining trees. (216) TWO MONTHS. 217 Far off, the Thunder bellows her despair To echoing Earth, thrice parched. The lightnings fly In vain. No help the heaped-up clouds afford, But wearier weight of burdened, burning air. "What truce with Dawn ? Look, from the aching sky, Day stalks, a tyrant with a flaming sword 1 Two Months. IN SEPTEMBER. AT dawn there was a murmur in the trees, A ripple on the tank, and in the air Presage of coming coolness everywhere A voice of prophecy upon the breeze. Up leapt the Sun and smote the dust to gold, And strove to parch anew the heedless land, All impotently, as a King grown old "Wars for the Empire crumbling 'neath his hand, One after one, the lotos-petals fell, Beneath the onslaught of the rebel year In mutiny against a furious sky ; And far-off Winter whispered: "It is well! " Hot Summer dies. Behold your help is near, "For when men's need is sorest, then come I." (218) The Moon of Other Days. BENEATH the deep verandah's shade, When bats begin to fly, I sit me down and watch alas Another evening die. Blood-red behind the sere ferash She rises through the haze. Sainted Diana ! can that be The Moon of Other Days ! Ah! shade of little Kitty Smith, Sweet Saint of Kensington ! Say, was it ever thus at Home The Moon of August shone, When arm in arm we wandered long Through Putney's evening haze. And Hammersmith was Heaven beneath The Moon of Other Days? (219) 220 BALLADS. But Wandle's stream is Sutlej now, And Putney's evening haze The dust that half a hundred kine Before my window raise. Unkempt, unclean, athwart the mist The seething city looms, In place of Putney's golden gorse The sickly babul blooms. Glare down, old Hecate, through the dust And bid the pie-dog yell, Draw from the drain its tj^phoid germ, From each bazar its smell ; Yea, suck the fever from the tank And sap my strength therewith : Thank Heaven, you show a smiling face To little Kitty Smith ! The Fall of Jock Gillespie.-. THIS fell when dinner-time was done 'Twixt the first an' the second rub That oor mon Jock cam' hame again To his rooms ahint the Club. An' syne he laughed, an' syne he sang, An' syne we thocht him fou, An' syne he trumped his partner's trick, An' garred his partner rue. Then up and spake an elder mon,. That held the Spade its Ace ' ' God save the lad ! Whence comes the j licht " That wimples on his face?" An' Jock he sniggered, an ? Jock he smiled, An' ower the card-brim wunk : " I'm a' too fresh fra r the stirrup-peg, "May be that I am drunk." (221) 222 BALLADS. " There's whusky brewed in Galashiels, "An' L. L. L. forbye ; ' ' But never liquor lit the low " That keeks fra' oot your eye. " There's a thrid o' hair on your dress- coat breast, "Aboon the heart a wee? " " Oh ! that is fra' the lang-haired Skye "That slobbers ower me." "Oh ! lang-haired Skyes are lovin' beasts, "An' terrier dogs are fair, " But never yet was terrier born, " Wi' ell-lang gowden hair ! "There's a smirch o' pouther on your breast, " Below the left lappel ? " " Oh ! that is fra' my auld cigar, " Whenas the stump-end fell." "Mon Jock, ye smoke the Trichi coarse, ' For ye are short o' cash. "An' best Havannahs couldna leave, " Sae white an' pure an ash. TEE FALL OF JOCK GlLLESPIE. 223- " This nicht ye stopped a story braid, "An' stopped it wi' a curse " Last nicht ye told that tale yoursel, "An capped it wi' a worse ! "Oh ! we're no fou ! Oh ! we're no fou ! " But plainly we can ken " Ye're fallin', fallin', fra' the band " O' cantie single men ! " An' it fell when sirns-shaws were sere, An' the nichts were lang and mirk, In braw new breeks, wi' a gowden ring,. Oor Jockie gaed to the Kirk. The Rupaiyat of Omar Kal'vin. [Allowing for the difference 'twixt prose and rhymed exaggeration, this ought to reproduce the sense of what Sir A told the nation some time ago, when the Government struck from our incomes two per cent.] NOW the New Year, reviving last Year's Debt, The Thoughtful Fisher casteth wide his Net; So I with begging Dish and ready Tongue Assail all Men for all that I can get. Imports indeed are gone with all their Dues Lio ! Salt a Lever that I dare not use, Nor may I ask the Tillers in Bengal Surely my Kith and Kin will not refuse Pay and I promise by the Dust of Spring, Retrenchment. If my promises can bring Comfort, Ye have Them now a thousand- fold By Allah ! I will promise Anything ! (224) THE B UPAIYA T OF OMAR KAU VIN. 225 Indeed, indeed, Retrenchment oft before I swore but did I mean it when I swore?' And then, and then, We wandered to the Hills, And so the Little Less became Much More. Whether at Boileaugunge or Babylon, I know not how the wretched Thing is done, The Items of Receipt grow surely small ; The Items of Expense mount one by one. I cannot help it. What have I to do With One and Five, or Four, or Three, or Two? Let Scribes spit Blood and Sulphur as they please, Or Statesmen call me foolish Heed not you. Behold, I promise Anything You will. Behold, I greet you with an empty Till Ah ! Fellow-Sinners, of your Charity Seek not the Reason of the Dearth but fill. 226 BALLADS. For if I sinned and fell, where lies the Gain Of Knowledge? Would it ease you of your Pain To know the tangled Threads of Reve- nue, I ravel deeper in a hopeless Skein V "Who hath not Prudence " what was it I said, Of Her who paints her Eyes and tires Her Head, And jibes and mocks the People in the Street, And fawns upon them for Her thriftless Bread ? Accursed is She of Eve's daughters She Hath cast off Prudence, and Her End shall be Destruction .... Brethren, of your Bounty grant Some portion of your daily Bread to Me. What Happened. HURKEE Chunder Mookerjee, pride of Bow Bazar, Owner of a native press, " Barrishter-at- Lar." Waited on the Government with a claim to wear Sabres by the bucketful, rifles by the pair. Then the Indian Government winked a wicked wink, Said to Chunder Mookerjee: "Stick to pen and ink. They are safer implements, but, if you insist, We will let you carry arms wheresoe'er you list." Hurree Chunder Mookerjee sought the gunsmith and Bought the tubes of Lancaster, Ballard, Dean, and Bland, (227) 228 BALLADS. Bought a shiny bowie-knife, bought a town-made sword, Jingled like a carriage-horse when he went abroad. But the Indian Government, always keen to please, Also gave permission to horrid men like these Yar Mahommed Yusufzai, down to kill or steal, Chimbu Singh from Bikaneer, Tantia the Bhil. Killar Khan the Marri chief, Jowar Singh the Sikh, Nnbbee Baksh Punjabi Jat, Abdul Huq Rafiq He was a Wahabi ; last, little Boh Hla-oo Took advantage of the act took a Snider too. They were unenlightened men, Ballard knew them not, They procured their swords and guns chiefly on the spot, WHAT HAPPENED. 229 And the lore of centuries, plus a hundred fights, Made them slow to disregard one another's rights. "With a unanimity dear to patriot hearts All those hairy gentlemen out of foreign parts Said : " The good old days are back let us go to war ! " Swaggered down the Grand Trunk Road into Bow Bazar. Nubbee Baksh Punjabi Jat found a hide- bound flail, Chimbu Singh from Bikaneer oiled his Tonk jezaO, Yar Mahommed Yusufzai spat and grinned with glee As he ground the butcher-knife of the Khyberee. Jowar Singh the Sikh procured sabre, quoit and mace, Abdul Huq,Wahabi, took the dagger from its place, 230 BALLADS. While amid the jungle-grass danced and grinned and jabbered Little Boh Hla-oo and cleared the dah- blade from the scabbard. What became of Mookerjee ? Soothly,who can say ? Yar Mahommed only grins in a nasty way, Jowar Singh is reticent, Chimbu Singh is mute, But the belts of all of them simply bulge with loot. What became of Ballard's guns? Afghans black and grubby Sell them for their silver weight to the men of Pubbi ; And the shiny bowie-knife and the town- made sword are Hanging in a Marri camp just across the Border. What became of Mookerjee? Ask Mahom- med Yar Prodding Siva's sacred bull down the Bow Bazar. WHAT HAPPENED, 231 Speak to placid Nubbee Baksh question land and sea Ask the Indian Congress men only don't ask me ! Study of an Elevation, in Indian Ink. This ditty is a string of lies. But how the deuce did Gubbins rise ? POTIPHAK Gubbins, C. E., Stands at the top of the tree ; And I muse in my bed on the reasons that led To the hoisting of Potiphar G. Potiphar Gubbins, C. E., Is seven years junior to Me; Each bridge that he makes either buckles or breaks, And his work is as rough as he. Potiphar Gubbins, C. E., Is coarse as a chimpanzee ; And I can't understand why you gave him your hand, Lovely Mehitabel Lee. (232) STUDY OF AN ELEVATION. 233 Potiphar Gubbins, C. E., Is dear to the Powers that Be ; For They bow and They smile in an affable style, Which is seldom accorded to Me. Potiphar Gubbina, C. E., Is certain as certain can be Of a highly paid post which is claimed by a host Of seniors including Me. Careless and lazy is he, Greatly inferior to Me. What is the spell that you manage so well Commonplace Potiphar G. ? Lovely Mehitabel Lee, Let me inquire of thee, Should I have riz to what Potiphar is Hadst thou been mated to Me ? The Vampire. [The verses as suggested by the painting by Philip Burne- Jones, first exhibited at the new gallery in London in 1897.] A FOOL there was and lie made his prayer (Even as you and I !) To a rag and a bone and a hank of hair (We called her the woman who did not care), Bat the fool he called her his lady fair (Even as you and I !) Oh the years we waste and the tears we waste And the work of our head and hand, Belong to the woman who did not know (And now we know that she never could know) And did not understand. (234) THE VAMPIRE. 235 A fool there was and his goods he spent (Even as you and I !) Honor and faith and a sure intent (And it wasn't the least what the lady meant) , But a fool must follow his natural bent (Even as you and I !) Oh the toil we lost and the spoil we lost And the excellent things we planned, Belong to the woman who didn't know why (And now we know she never knew why) And did not understand. The fool was stripped to his foolish hide (Even as you and I !) Which she might have seen when she threw him aside (But it isn't on record the lady tried) So some of him lived but the most of him died (Even as you and I !) 236 BALLADS. And it isn't the shame and it isn't the blame That stinga like a white hot brand. It's coming to know that she never knew why (Seeing at last she could never know why) And never could understand. Recessional. A Victorian Ode. GOD of our fathers, known of old Lord of our far-flung battle line Beneath whose awful hand we hold Dominion over palm and pine Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet, Lest we forget lest we forget ! The tumult and the shouting dies The Captains and the Kings depart Still stands Thine ancient sacrifice, An humble and a contrite heart, Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet, Lest we forget lest we forget ! Far- called our navies melt away Ou dune and headland sinks the fire Lo, all our pomp of yesterday Is one with Nineveh and Tyre ! Judge of the Nations, spare us yet, Lest we forget lest we forget ! (237) 238 BALLADS. If, drunk with sight of power, we loose Wild tongues that have not thee in awe Such boasting as the Gentiles use, Or lesser breeds without the Law Lord God of Hosts, be with us yet, Lest we forget lest we forget ! For heathen heart that puts her trust In reeking tube and iron shard All valiant dust that builds on dust, And guarding calls not Thee to guard. For frantic boast and foolish word, Thy Mercy on Thy People Lord ! Amen. L'Envoi. (To whom it may concern.) THE smoke upon your Altar dies, The flowers decay, The Goddess of your sacrifice Has flown away. What profit then to sing or slay The sacrifice from day to day ? " We know the Shrine is void," they said, " The Goddess flown Yet wreaths are on the Altar laid The Altar-Stone Is black with fumes of sacrifice, Albeit She has fled our eyes. " For, it may be, if still we sing And tend the Shrine, Some Deity on wandering wing May there incline ; And, finding all in order meet, Stay while we worship at Her feet.* ( 239) Glossary. AFBIDIS, ... An Afghdn clan w&st and south of Peshawar. ALLAH, . . . The Mahommedan name for God. ANNANDALE, . A valley near Sir^da the Simla Racecourse, etc. An incarnation on earth of a divine Being. AVATAR, . . . BABU, .... BABUL, . . . BANDAR, . BAZUGAR, BEGUM, . BENMORE, BHAMO, . BIKANEER, BOH, . . BOILEAUGUNGE, Bow BAZAR, . BRAHMIN, . . BRINJAREE, . . BUKHSHI, . . ( 240 ^ A title such as "Mr.," used fre- quently to signify a Bengali clerk. A small thorny mimosa jungle tree, blossoms profusely a bright yellow tassel-like flower, like a bullet, and with a fragrance resembling that of the wallflower. A monkey. One who exhibits feats of activity. A lady, a queen. The old Simla Assembly Rooms. A district in Upper Burma. A state in Rajputana. A captain in the Burmese native army. A suburb of Simla, named after General Boileau. One of the principal bazars in Cal- cutta. A member of the priestly caste. The Brinjarees of the Deccan are dealers in grain and salt. A paymaster in the Anglo-Indian army. GLOSSARY, 241 BTTL-BUL, . . . The Persian nightingale. BUNNIA, ... A corn and seed merchant or dealer. BURSAT, . . . The rains, which set in about the middle of June the first burst of them is known as the " chota bur- sat," or small rains after whicli there is generally a break before the regular monsoon sets in. BURSATT, . . . A disease to which horses are liable during the rains. BYLE, .... A bullock. CHARNOCK, . . Job Charnock, the founder of Cal- cutta. CHOTA BURSAT, see "bursat." COLLISGA, . . One of the bazars in Calcutta where most of the demi-monde resided. COOLY, ... A hired laborer, or burden-carrier. DAH BLADE, . "Dah " is a short Burmese sword. DAK, .... "Post," i.e., properly, transport by relays of men and horses. DAK-BUNGALOW, A rest house for travellers DARJEELING, . A Sanitarium in the Himalaya. The summer seat of the Bengal Government. DEODARS, . The "Cedrus deodarus" of the Himalaya. DIBS, .... A slang term for money rupees. DOM, .... The name of a very low caste repre- senting some old aboriginal race spread all over India. In many places they perform .such offices as carrying dead bodies, remov- ing carrion, etc. DUFTAK, . . . Book, Journal, Record sometimes used instead of " duftar khana " for "the office." DTJSTOORIE, . . A commission on the money pass- ing in any cash transaction. 242 GLOSSARY. DYKES, . . . A firm of coach builders in Calcutta. FERASH (faras), a species of date-tree. FCLTAH, ... A village in Bengal, situated on the Hughli; also an anchorage for vessels. GARDEN REACH, The reach or bend forming the entrance to the Port of Calcutta so called on account of the fine garden residences which at one time lined the banks of the river at this part. GHAT, .... A mountain pass, landing place, or ferry. GHI, .... Boiled or clarified butter. HAFIZ, ... A guardian, governor, preserver HAMILTON, . . Hamilton & Co., jewellers. HOOKUM, . . An order, command. HOWRAH, . . A large town opposite Calcutta. HUGHLI (or Hooghly). One of the principal rivers of Hindustan on which Calcutta is situated. HURNAI, ... A pass leading from Baluchistan to Afghanistan. JAIN, .... The non-Brahminical sect so-called believed now to represent the earliest heretics of Buddhism, at present chiefly found in the Bom- bay presidency. The Jains are generally merchants, and some have been men of immense wealth. JAKKO, ... A mountain peak in the Punjab one of the highest of the Hima- laya on which Simla is situated. JAT, .... A tribe among Rajputs. JAUN BAZAR, . One of the principal bazars in Cal- cutta. GLOSSARY. 243 JEHANNUM, . . Hades, hell. JEMADAR, . . The second native officer in a com- pany of Sepoys. JKZAIL, ... A heavy Afghan rifle, fired with a forked rest. JINGAL, . , . A small piece of Burmese artillery mounted on a carriage, managed by two men. JUNGI/E, . . . Forest, or other wild growth. JUTOGH, ... A military station in the Punjab, at the entrance of Simla. KAFIR, ... An unbeliever in the Moslem faith. KAKAHUTTI, . A village in the Punjab, on the road to Simla from the plains. KALKA, ... A villa in the Punjab, at the foot of the Himalaya, on the road from Umballa to Simla. KEDGEREE, . . A village and police station near the mouth of the Hughli ; also an anchorage for vessels. KITMUTGAES, . Table servants a Mahommedan who will also perform the duties of a valet. KHUD, ... A precipitous hill side, a deep valley. KHYBAGHAUT, A halting station near Simla. KHYBEREE (Khaibari), An Afghan tribe inhabiting the Khaibar pass in Afghanistan. KorL, .... The Indian nightingale. KTJLLAH, . . A term used generally by Burmese forawesternforeigner, a stranger. KURRUM, . t A mountain pass into Afghanistan from the Punjab. LAKH, . . . One hundred thousand rupees. LANGTJR, . . . The great white-bearded ape, much patronized by Hindus, and identi- fied with the monkey-god, Huni- 244 GLOSSARY. MAG, .... Natives of Arakan. MAHRATTA, . . The name of a famous Hindu race. The British won India from the two Hindu confederacies, the Marathas and the Sikhs. MALLIE, ... A gardener. MASHOBRA, . . A village and hill in the Punjab, near Simla. MICHINI, ... A fort in the Punjab. MLECH, . . . One without caste. MOOLTAN, . . A district in the Punjab. MARRI (Murree), A Hill Station and Sanitarium in the Punjab. MTJSTH, ... In a state of periodical excitement, NAT, .... A term applied to all spiritual beings, angels, elfs, demon.-, or what not, including the gods of the Hindus. OCTROI, ... A municipal tax. PADSE, ... A priest, clergyman, or minister of the Christian religion. PEG, .... A term used for a brandy (or other spirit) and soda. PELITI, ... A well-known confectioner. PICE, .... The smallest copper coin 12 pice = 1 anna, 16 annas = 1 rupee. PUKKA. . . . Kipe, mature, cooked ; and hence substantial, permanent, with many specific applications. One of the most common uses in which the word has become specific is that of brick and mortar in con- tradistinction to one of inferior material, as of mud, matting, or timber. PUNJABI, ... A native of the Punjab. GLOSSARY. 245 PUNKAH, . . A large swinging fan suspended from the ceiling and pulled by a cooly. QTJETTA, . i . A town and cantonment in Balu- chistan under British adminis- tration. RAJAH, ... A native chief. KAMA, . . . One of the Puranic Deities. The hero of the Sanskrit epic, the Ramayana. RANKEN, . . . Ranken & Co., tailors. 'RICKSHAW,. . A contraction of "Jinny rick- shaw," a two-wheeled convey- ance drawn by a cooly. RTJPAIYAT of Omar Kal'vin, a play on Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam, signifying (The Poem) connected with rupees of Omar Kal'vin (a late financial member of the Viceroy' s Council) . RYOT, .... A tenant of the soil. SAHIB, ... A lord, master, companion, gentle- man, commonly used to denote a European. SAMADH, ... A cenotaph. SAT-BHAI (lit. the seven brothers), a species of thrush, so called from the birds being gregarious, and usually seven of them are found together. SHRAI, ... A place for the accommodation of travellers, a khan, a caravansary. SHAITAKPOBB, . A fictitious name for a place. Shai- tan signifies the Evil One pore, a common termination, signifies a city. SAEBISTADAK, . The head ministerial officer of a court, whose duty it is to receive plaints. 246 GLOSSARY. SHIKAR, . SHROFF, . SIKH, . . "SlMPKIN," SIRIS, . . . SIVA, . . . SOLON, . . SUBADAR, . STJTLEJ, . SUTTEE, . . TAMARISKS, Sport, hunting, chase, prey, game, plunder, perquisites. A money-changer, a banker. A "disciple," the distinctive name of the disciples of Nanak Shah, who in the 16th century estab- lished that sect, which eventually rose to warlike predominance in the Punjab, and from which sprung Ranjat Singh, the founder of the brief kingdom of Lahore. A Hindustani corruption of the word "champagne." The tree Acacia, a timber tree of moderate size, beot known in the Upper Provinces. A Hindu god, the Destroyer and Reproducer, the third person in the Hindu triad. A cantonment and hill sanitarium in the Punjab, near Simla. The chief native officer of a com- pany of Sepoys. The well-known name of the tract of intersecting creeks and chan- nels, swampy islands and jungles which constitute that part of the Ganges Delta nearest the sea. One of the principal rivers of India. The rite of widow-burning. A graceful, feather-like shrub ; is covered with numberless little spikes of small pink flowers when in blossom. TATIA THE BHIL, A well-known dacoit of the Central Provinces. TARA DEVI, . One of the Himalaya mountain peaks, near Simla, THAG, .... A highway robber, garotter. GLOSSARY. 247 THANA, ... A police station. THAKUR, . . A chief (among Rajputs). THERMANTIDOTE (heat-antidote), A sort of winnow- ing machine fitted to a window aperture, and incased in wet t ( at- ties so as to drive a current of cooled air into a house during hot dry weather (tatties are screens or mats made of the roots of a fragrant grass). TONGA, ... A two-wheeled car drawn by two ponies curricle fashion, used for travelling in the hills. TONK, .... A state and city in Rdjputana. "TRICHI," . . A contraction of Trichinopoly, a place on the S. E. coast of Hindu- stan, noted for its cigars hence " Trichi " denotes a Trichinopoly cigar. A sabre, used by the Sikhs. TULWAR, . UMBALLA, WAHABIS, . WALER, . . YABU, . . . YUSUFZAIES, ZENANA, . . A city and cantonment of the Umballa district, Punjab. For- merly the nearest station on the railway to Simla. A fanatical Mahommedan sect in South Arcot. Horses imported from New South Wales are called " Walers." A class of small hardy horse which comes from the highland country of Kandahar and Cabul. Pathan tribe in Afghanistan. The apartments of a house in which the women of the family are secluded. PUBLICATIONS OF HENRY ALTEMUS COMPANY PHILADELPHIA .ALTEMUS' ILLUSTRATED VADEMECUM SERIES. Containing the most popular works of standard authors. HANDY VOLUME, I/ARGE TYPE editions, with appropriate text and full-page illustrations. Superior paper and printing. Illuminated title pages, etched portraits, and original aquarelle frontispieces in eight colors. Full cloth, ivory finish, embossed gold and inlaid colors, with side titles, boxed, 40 cents. 1 Abbe Constant in, Halevy. 2 Adventures of a Brownie. Mulock. 3 Alice's Adventures in Wonderland. Carroll. 4 American Notes. Kipling. 5 Autobiography of Benjamin Franklin. 6 Autocrat of the Breakfast Table. Holmes. 7 A Son of the Carolinas. Satterthwaite \ 8 Antony and Cleopatra. Shakespeare 9 A Midsummer Night's Dream. Shakes- peare. 11 Bab Ballads and Savoy Songs. 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Milton. ...152 Paul and Virginia. Sainte Pierre. ...153 Peter Schlemihl. Chamisso. ...154 Phantom Rickshaw. Kipling. ...155 Pilgrim's Progress, The. Bunyan, ...156 Plain Tales from the Hills. Kipling. ...157 Pleasures of Life. Lubbock. ...158 Plutarch's Lives. ...159 Poe's Poems. ...160 Prince of the House of David. Ingraham. ...161 Princess and Maud. Tennyson. ...162 Prue and I. Curtis. ...163 Peep of Day. ...164 Precept Upon Precept. ...169 Queen of the Air. Ruskin. ...172 Rab and His Friends. Brown. ...173 Representative Men. Emerson. ...174 Reveries of a Bachelor. Mitchell. ...175 Rip Van Winkle. Irving. ...176 Romance of a Poor Young Man. Feuillet. ...177 Rubaiyat of Omar Khayyam. ...178 Romeo and Juliet, Shakespeare. ...179 Robert Hardy's Seven Days. Sheldon. ...182 Samantha at Saratoga. Holley. ...183 Sartor Resartus. Carlyle. ...184 Scarlet Letter, The. Hawthorne, ...185 School for Scandal. Sheridan. ...186 Sentimental Journey, A. Sterne. ...187 Sesame and Lilies. Ruskin. ...188 Shakespeare's Heroines. Jameson. ...189 She Stoops to Conquer. Goldsmith. Altemus' New Illustrated Vademecum Series. Continued ...190 Silas Marner. Eliot. ...191 Sketch Book, The. Irving. ...192 Snow Image, The, Hawthorne. ..199 Tales from Shakespeare. Lamb. ...200 Tanglewood Tales. Hawthorne. ...201 Tartarin of Tarascon. Daudet. ...202 Tartarin on the Alps. Daudet. ...203 Ten Nights in a Bar-Room. Arthur. ...204 Things Will Take a Turn. Harraden. ...205 Thoughts. Marcus Aurelizts. ...206 Through The Looking Glass. Carroll. ...207 Tom Brown's School Days. Hughes. ...2c8 Treasure Island. Stevenson. ...209 Twice Told Tales. Hawthorne. ...210 Two Years Before the Mast. Dana. ...211 The Merchant of Venice. Shakespeare. ...212 The Merry Wives of Windsor. Shakespeare. ...217 Uncle Tom's Cabin. Stowe. ..218 Undine. Fouque. ...222 Vic, the autobiography of a fox-terrier. Marsh. ...223 Vicar of Wakefield. Goldsmith. ...226 Walden. Thoreau. ...227 Water Babies. Kingsley. ...228 Weird Tales. Poe. ...229 What is Art. Tolstoi. ...230 Whittier's Poems, Vol. I. ...231 Whittier's Poems, Vol II. ...232 Window in Thrums. Barrie. ...233 Women's Work in the Home. Farrar. ...234 Wonder Book, A. Hawthorne. ...241 Yellowplush Papers, The. Thackeray. ...244 Zoe. By author of Laddie, etc. Henry Altemus' Publications. ALTEMUS' ILLUSTRATED ONE SYLLABLE SERIES FOR YOUNG READERS. Embracing popular works arranged for the young folks in words of one syllable. Printed from extra large clear type on fine en- amelled paper and fully illustrated by famous artists. The handsomest line of books for young children before the public. Fine English cloth ; handsome, new, original designs. 50 cents. 1. /Esop's Fables. 62 illustrations. 2. A Child's Life of Christ. 49 illustrations. 3. A Child's Story of the Bible. 72 illus- trations. 4. The Adventures of Robinson Crusoe. 70 illustrations. 5. Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress. 46 illus- trations. 6. Swiss Family Robinson. 50 illustrations. 7. Gulliver's Travels. 50 illustrations. 8. Bible Stories for Little Children. 80 illus- trations. ALTEMUS' YOUNQ PEOPLES' LIBRARY. PRICE, 50 CENTS EACH. Robinson Crusoe. (Chiefly in words of one syllable. ) His life and strange, surprising adventures, with 70 beautiful illustrations by Walter Paget. Alice's Adventures in Wonderland. With 42 illustrations by John Tenniel. "The most de- lightful of children's stories. Elegant and delicious nonsense." "Saturday Review." Through the Looking=glass and what Alice Found There. A companion to "Alice in Wonderland," with 50 illustrations by John Tenniel. Altemus' Young Peoples' Library. Continued. Bunyan's Pilgrim's Progress. Arranged for young readers. With 50 full-page and text illustrations. A Child's Story of the Bible. With 72 full-page illustrations. A Child's Life of Christ. With 49 illustrations. Non-sectarian. Children are early attracted and sweetly riveted by the wonderful Story of the Master from the Manger to the Throne. Swiss Family Robinson. With 50 illustrations. The father of the family tells the tale of the vicissitudes through which he and his wife and children pass, the wonderful discoveries made and dangers encountered. The book is full of interest aad instruction. Christopher Columbus and the Discovery of America. With 70 illustrations. Every Am- erican boy and girl should be acquainted with the story of the life of the great discoverer, with its struggles, adventures and trials. The Story of Exploration and Discovery in Africa. With 80 illustrations. Records the experiences of adventures and discoveries in developing the "Dark Continent." The Fables of /Esop. Compiled from the best accepted sources. With 62 illustrations. The fables of J&sop are among the very earliest compositions of this kind, and probably have never been surpassed for point and brevity. Gulliver's Travels. Adapted for young readers, with 50 illustrations. Mother Goose's Rhymes, Jingles and Fairy Tales. With 234 illustrations. Lives of the Presidents of the United States. By Prescott Holmes. With portraits of the Presidents and also of the unsuccessful candi- Altemus' Young Peoples' Library. Continued. dates for the office ; as well as the ablest of the Cabinet officers. Revised and up-to-date. The Story of Adventure in the Frozen Seas. With 70 illustrations. By Prescott Holmes. The book shows how much can be accomplished by steady perseverance and indomitable pluck. Illustrated Natural History. By the Rev. J. G. Wood, with So illustrations. This author has done more to popularize the study of natural history than any other writer. The illustrations are striking and life-like. A Child's History of England. By Charles Dickens, with 50 illustrations. Tired of listen- ing to his children memorize the twaddle of old- fashioned English history, the author covered the ground in his own peculiar and happy style for his own children's use. When the work was published its success was instantaneous. Black Beauty : The Autobiography of a Horse. By Anna Sewell, with 50 illustrations. This work is to the animal kingdom what ' ' Uncle Tom's Cabin " was to the Afro-American. The Arabian Nights Entertainments. With 130 illustrations. Contains the most favorably known of the stories. Grimm's Fairy Tales. With 55 illustrations. The tales are a wonderful collection, as in- teresting, from a literary point of view, as they are delightful as stories. Flower Fables. By Louisa May Alcott. With numerous illustrations, full-page and text. A series of very interesting fairy tales by the most charming of American story-tellers. Andersen's Fairy Tales. By Hans Christian Andersen. With 77 illustrations. These wonderful tales are not only attractive to the young, but equally acceptable to those of mature years. Altemus' Young Peoples' Library. Continued. Grandfather's Chair; A History for Youth. By Nathaniel Hawthorne. With 60 illustrations. The story of America from the landing of the Puritans to the acknowledgment without re- serve of the Independence of the United States. Aunt Martha's Corner Cupboard. By Mary and Elizabeth Kirby, with 60 illustrations. Stories about Tea, Coffee, Sugar, Rice and Chinaware, and other accessories of the well-kept Cupboard. Battles of the War for Independence. By Prescott Holmes, with 70 illustrations. A graphic and full history of the Rebellion of the American Colonies from the yoke and oppres- sion of England. Including also an account of the second war with Great Britain, and the War with Mexico. Battles of the War for the Union. By Prescott Holmes, with 80 illustrations. A correct and impartial account of the greatest civil war in the annals of history. Both of these histories of American wars are anecessary part of the edu- cation of all intelligent American boys and girls. Water Babies. By Charles Kingsley, with 84 illustrations. A charming fairy tale. Young People's History of the War with Spain. By Prescott Holmes, with 86 illustrations. The story of the war for the freedom of Cuba, arranged for young readers. Heroes of the United States Navy. By Hart- well James, with 65 illustrations. From the days of the Revolution until the end of the War with Spain. Military Heroes of the United States. By Hartwell James, with nearly 100 illustrations. Their brave deeds from Lexington to Santiago, told in a captivating manner. Uncle Tom's Cabin. By Harriet Beecher Stowe, with 50 illustrations. Arranged for young readers. Sea Kings and Naval Heroes. By Hartwell James, with 50 illustrations. Altemus* Illustrated Editions. ABBOTT'S HISTORICAL SERIES. PRICE, 50 CENTS EACH. A well-known and popular series rf biographical histories, by JACOB ABBOTT, containing the lives and deeds of foun ers of Empires, Her es and Heroines of History, Kings, Queens and Conquerors. Handsomely printed from large, clear type, on extra-fine super-calendered paper and embellished with half-tone frontispieces, numerous full-page and text illustrations and maps ... i Romulus, the Founder of Rome. With 49 illustrations. ... 2 Cyrus the Great, the Founder of the Persian Empire. With 40 illustrations. ... 3 Darius the Great, King of the Medes and Persian. With 34 illustrations. ... 4 Xerxes the Great, King of Persia. With 39 illustrations. ... 5 Alexander the Great, King of Macedon. With 51 illustrations. ... 6 Pyrrhus, King of Epirus. With 45 illus- trations. ... 7 Hannibal, the Carthaginian. With 37 illus- trations. ... S Julius Caesar, the Roman Conqueror. With 44 illustrations. ... 9 Alfred the Great, of England. With 40 illustrations. ...10 William the Conqueror, of England. With 43 illustrations. ...ii Hernando Cortez, the Conqueror of Mexico. With 30 illustrations. ...12 Mary, Queen of Scots. With 45 illustrations. ...13 Queen Elizabeth, of England. With 49 illustrations. ...14 King Charles thefFirst, of England. With 41 illustrations. ...15 King Charles the Second, of England. With 38 illustrations. ...16 Maria Antoinette, Queen of France. With 41 illustrations. Altemus' Illustrated Editions. Continued. ...17 Madam Roland, A Heroine of the French Revolution. With 42 illustrations. ...iS Josephine, Empress of France. With 40 illustrations. ALTEMUS* DAINTY SERIES OF CHOICE GIFT BOOKS. PRICE, SO CENTS. Bound in half-white Vellum, illuminated sides, unique design in gold, with numerous half-tone illustrations. Size, 6^x8 inches. ... I The Silver Buckle. By M. Nataline Crump- ton. With 12 illustrations. ... 2 Charles Dickens' Children Stories. With 30 illustrations. ... 3 The Children's Shakespeare. With 30 illustrations. ... 4 Young Robin Hood. By G. Manville Fenn. With 30 illustrations. ... 5 Honor Bright. By Mary C. Rowsell. With 24 illustrations. ... 6 The Voyage of the Mary Adair. By Frances E. Crompton. With 19 illustrations. ... 7 The Kingffsher's Egg. By I/. T. Meade. With 24 illustrations. ... 8 Tattine. By Ruth Ogden. With 24 illus- trations. ... 9 The Doings of a Dear Little Couple. By Mary D. Brine. With 20 illustrations. ...10 Our Soldier Boy. By G. Manville Fenn. With 23 illustrations. ...II The Little Skipper. By G. Manville Fenn. With 22 illustrations. ...12 Little Qervaise and other Stories. With 22 illustrations. ...13 The Christmas Fairy. By John Strange Winter. With 24 illustrations. ILLUSTRATED DEVOTIONAL SERIES An entirely new line of popular Religious Litera- ture, carefully printed on fine paper, daintily and durably bound in bandy volume size. Full White Vellum, handsome new mosaic design in gold and colors, gold edges, boxed, 50 cents. ... i Abide in Christ. Murray. ... 3 Beecher's Addresses. ... 4 Best Thoughts. From Henry Drumtnond. ... 5 Bible Birthday Book. ... 6 Brooks' Addresses. ... 7 Buy Your Own Cherries, Kirton. ... 8 Changed Cross, The. ... 9 Christian Life. Oxenden. ...10 Christian Living. Meyer. ...12 Christie's Old Organ. Walton. ...13 Coming to Christ. Havergal. ...14 Daily Food for Christians. ...15 Day Breaketh, The. Shugert. ...17 Drummond's Addresses. ...i 8 Evening Thoughts. Havergal. ...19 Gold Dust. ...20 Holy in Christ. ...21 Imitation of Christ, The. A'Kempis. ...22 Impregnable Rock of Holy Scripture. Gladstone. ...23 Jessica's First Prayer* Stretton. ...24 John Ploughman's Pictures. Spurgeon. ...25 John Ploughman's Talk. Spurgeon. ...26 Kept for the Master's Use. Havergal. ...27 Keble's Christian Year. ...28 Let Us Follow Him. Sienkiewicz. ...29 Like Christ. 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