REESE LIBRARY UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA. K Class ARMAZINDY (goofl NEGHBORLY POEMS SKETCHES IN PROSE WITH INTERLUDING VERSES AFTERWHILES PIPES O PAN AT ZEKESBURY (Prose and Verse) RHYMES OF CHILDHOOD THE FLYING ISLANDS OF THE NIGHT GREEN FIELDS AND RUNNING BROOKS ARMAZINDY A CHILD-WORLD HOME-FOLKS HIS PA S ROMANCE (Portrait by Clay) GREENFIELD EDITION Sold only in sets. Eleven volumes uniformly bound in sage- green cloth, gilt top , ., 5i3.5o The same in half-calf 27.00 OLD-FASHIONED ROSES (English Edition) THE GOLDEN YEAR (English Edition) POEMS HERE AT HOME RUBA IYAT OF DOC SIFERS THE BOOK OF JOYOUS CHILDREN . RILEY CHILD-RHYMES (Pictures by Vawter* RILEY LOVE-LYRICS (Pictures by Dyer) RILEY FARM-RHYMES (Pictures by Vawter) RILEY SONGS O CHEER (Pictures by Vawter) AN OLD SWEETHEART OF MINE (Pictures by Christy) OUT TO OLD AUNT MARY S (Pictures by Christy) A DEFECTIVE SANTA CLAUS (Forty Pictures by Relyea and Vawter) ARMAZINDY JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY INDIANAPOLIS THE BOBBS-MERRILL COMPANY PUBLISHERS Copyright 1894 ty James Wbitcomb Riley PRESS OF BRAUNWORTH & CO. BOOKBINDERS AND PRINTERS BROOKLYN, N. Y. fli ft / TO HENRY E1TEL (v) J 55573 CONTENTS ARMAZINDY ,....... x BLIND GIRL, THE . . 21 DREAMER. SAY 67 EMPTY GLOVE, Alt* 94 FOR THIS CHRISTMAS .* 27 GOOD-BYE, A , . . , ....... 32 HE AND I ..... 64 How DID You REST, LAST NIGHT? .... 31 LITTLE DAVID 60 LITTLE RED RIBBON, THE . 30 MUSKINGUM VALLEY, THE * 25 MY BRIDE THAT Is To BE . 70 MY HENRY 54 NATURAL PERVERSITIES a ....... 14 NOON LULL, A .. 52 OLD SCHOOL-CHUM, THE o .. 17 viii CONTENTS OLD-TIMER, AN .....37 OLD TRUNDLE BED, THE xa OUR OWN 76 OUT OF THE HlTHERWHERE 6l POOR MAN S WEALTH, A 28 RABBIT IN THE CROSS-TIES 62 RINGWORM FRANK 73 SERENADE To NORA .63 SILENT VICTORS, THE 39 SONG I NEVER SING, THE 5 6 THIS DEAR CHILD-HEARTED WOMAN . . . ... 35 THREE SINGING FRIENDS 50 To A POET-CRITIC 36 To EDGAR WILSON NYE ........ 59 UP AND DOWN OLD BRANDYWINB ....... 45 WE DEFER THINGS 24 WHAT REDRESS ...........66 WHEN LIDE MARRIED HIM ........ 68 WHEM MAIMIE MARRIED 33 WINDY DAY, A . 53 WRITIN BACK TO THE HOME-FOLKS 19 CONTENTS MAKE-BELIEVE AND CHILD-PLAY ALBUMANIA . 6o BAREFOOT BOY. A X 3* CHARMS. FOR CORNS X47 CIRCUS-PARADE, THE x * DOLORES . "3 ENVOY * l69 EROS . . . . 8 FEW OF THE BIRD-FAMILY. A .. 149 FOLKS AT LONESOMEVILLB ... U* FROG.THB ... *9 GREAT EXPLORER, THE ..>** HOME-MADE RIDDLES .. ^5 IDYL OF THE KINO, AN 9* JARGON-JINGLE ... ... 55 KING OF THE OO-RlNKTUM-JING, THE . . 53 LEONAINIB . . . la8 LITTLE DOG-WOGGIE. THE "*5 LITTLE MOCK-MAN. THE l6a LOVELY CHILD, THE ... ^ MY MARY " 5 CONTENTS ORLIE WILDE zzg PONCHUS PlLUT 136 SCHOOL-BOY S FAVORITE. THE ....... 157 SLUMBER-SONG . xjg SUMMER-TIME AND WINTER-TIME ....... 1^4 THREE JOLLY HUNTERS. THE 143 THROUGH SLEEPY-LAND 150 To A JILTED SWAIN 130 To REMOVE FRECKLES 148 TOY PENNY-DOG. THE . 154 TRESTLE AND THE BUCK-SAW, THE 152 TWIGGS AND TUDENS . 81 TWINTORETTB. A - 138 VOICES. THE 131 WHEN I Do MOCK m YELLOW-BIRO. THE ies YOUTHFUL PATRIOT. THE .. 135 ARMAZINDY (xiii) ARMAZINDY ARMAZINDY ; fambily name Ballenger, you ll find the same, As her daddy answered it, In the old War-rlckords yit, And, like him, she s airnt the good Will o all the neighberhood. Name ain t down in History, But, i jucks ! it ort to be ! Folks is got respec fer her Armazindy Ballenger! Specially the ones at knows Fac s o how her story goes From the start: Her father blowed Up eternally furloughed When the old "Sultana" bu st, And sich men wuz needed wusst. Armazindy, bout fourteen- Year-old then and thin and lean As a kill-dee, but my la! Blamedest nerve you ever saw! The girl s mother d allus ben Sickly wuz consumpted when Word come bout her husband. So Folks perdicted shid soon go CO ARMAZINDY (Kind o grief / understand, Losin my companion, and Still a widower and still Hinted at, like neighbers will ! ) So, appinted, as folks said, Ballenger a-bein dead, Widder, peared-like, gradjully, Jes grieved after him tel she Died, nex Aprile wuz a year, And, in Armazindy s keer Leavin* the two twins, as well As her pore old miz able Old-maid aunty at had ben Struck with palsy, and wuz then Jes a he pless charge on her Arma^indy Ballenger. Jewer watch a primrose *bout Minute fore it blossoms out Kindo loosen-like, and blow Up its muscles, don t you know, And, all suddent, bu st and bloom Out life-size ? Well, I persume At s the only measure I Kin size Armazindy by! Jes a child, one minute, nex , Woman-grown, in all respec s ARMAZINDY And intents and purposuz At s what Armazindy wuz! Jes a child, I tell ye ! Yit She made things git up and git Round that little farm o hern ! Shouldered all the whole concern; Feed the stock, and milk the cows Run the farm and run the louse ! Only thing she didn t do Wuz to plow and harvest too But the house and childern took Lots o keer and had to look After her old fittified Grand-aunt. Lord! ye could a-cried, Seein Armazindy smile, Peared-like, sweeter all the while ! And I ve heerd her laugh and say: " Jes afore Pap marched away, He says I depend on you, Armazindy, come what may You must be a Soldier, too ! " Neighbers, from the fust, ud come And she d lei em help her some, " Thanky, maam ! " and " Thanky, sir ! " But no charity fer her! ARMAZINDY " Sbe could raise the means to pay Per her farm-hands ever day Sich wuz needed ! " And she could In cash-money jes as good As farm-produc s ever brung Their perducer, old er young ! So folks humored her and smiled, And at last wuz rickonciled Per to let her have her own Way about it But a-goin Past to town, they d stop and see "Armazindy s fambily," As they d allus laugh and say, And look sorry right away, Thinkin of her Pap, and how He d indorse his "Soldier" now! Course she couldn t never be Much in young folks company Plenty of w-vites to go, But das t leave the house, you know Less n Sundays sometimes, when Some old Granny d come and ten* Things, while Armazindy 1ms Got away fer Church er " Class." Most the youngsters liked her and Twuzn t hard to understand, ARMAZINDY Fer, by time she wuz sixteen, Purtier girl you never seen Ceptin she lacked schooling ner Couldn t rag out stylisher Like some neighber-g\T\s t ner thumb On their blame melodium, Whilse their pore old mothers sloshed Round the old back-porch and washed Their clothes fer em rubbed and scrubbed Per girls M ort to jes ben clubbed 1 And jes sich a girl wuz Jule Reddinhouse. Shid ben to school At New Thessaly, i gum ! Fool before, but that hepped some Stablished-like more confidence At she never had no sense. But she wuz a cunnin , sly, Meek and lowly sorto lie, At men-folks like me and you B lieves jes cause we ortn t to. Jes as purty as a snake, And as pi^en Mercy sake ! Well, about them times it wuz, Young Sol Stephens th ashed fer us; And we sent him over to Armazindy s place to do ARMAZINDY Her work fer her. And-sir ! Well- - Mighty little else to tell, Sol he fell in love with her Armazindy Ballenger! Bless ye ! LI of all the love At I ve ever yit knowed of, That-air case o theirn beat all ! W y> sne worshiped him ! And Sol, Peared-like, could a-kissed the sod (Sayin is) where that girl trod! Went to town, she did, and bought Lot o things at neighbers thought Mighty strange fer her to buy, Raal chintz dress-goods and way high ! Cut long in the skyrt, also Gaiter-pair o shoes, you know ; And lace collar ; yes, and fine Stylish hat, with ivy-vine And red ribbons, and these- ere Artificial flowers and queer Little beads and spangles, and Oysturch-feathers round the band ! Wore em, Sund ys, fer awhile Kindo went to church in style, Sol and Armazindy! Tel It was noised round purty well ARMAZINDY They wuz promised. And they wuz Sich news travels well it does! Pity at that did! Per jes That-air fac and nothin* less Must a-putt it in the mind O Jule Reddinhouse to find Out some dratted way to hatch Out some plan to break the match Cause she done \^Ho-w? they s nona Knows adzac ly -what she done; Some claims she writ letters to Sol s folks, up nigh Pleasant View Somers and described, you see, "Armazlndy s fambily" Hintin* c ef Sol married her. He d jes be pervidin fer Them-air twins o hern, and old Palsied aunt at couldn t hold Spoon to mouth, and layin* near Bedrid on to eighteen year, And still likely, pearantly, To Jive out the century!" Well whatever plan Jule laid Out to reach the pint she made. It wuz desfeSt And she won Finully. by marryun ARMAZINDY Sol herse f e-lopin\ too, With him, like she bad to do, Cause her folks ud allus swore "Jule should never marry poreJ" This-here part the story 1 Allus haf to hurry by, Way at Armazindy jes Drapped back in her linsey dress, And grabbed holt her loom, and shet Her jaws square. And ef she fret Any bout it never peared Sign at neighbers seed er heerd ; Most folks liked her all the more I know / did certain-shore ! (Course Vd knowed her Pap, and what Stock she come of. Yes, and thought, And think yit, no man on earth S worth as much as that girl s worth !) As fer Jule and Sol, they had Their sheer! less o good than bad! Her folks let her go. They said, "Spite o them she d made her bed And must sleep in it ! " But she, Peared-like, didn t sleep so free As she ust to ner so late* Ner so /*<?, I m here to state! ARMAZWDY Sol wuz pore, of course, and she Wuzn t ust to poverty Ner she didn t pear to jes Filiate with lonesomeness, Cause Sol he wuz off and out With his th asher nigh about Half the time ; er, season done, He d be off mi-anderun Round the country, here and there, Swoppin hosses. Well, that-air Kindo livin didn t suit Jule a bit! and then, to boot, She had now the keer o two Her own childern and to do Her own work and cookin yes, And sometimes fer hands, I guess, Well as fambily of her own. Cut her pride clean to the bone! So how could the whole thing end? She set down, one night, and penned A short note, like at she sewed On the childern s blanket blowed Out the candle pulled the door To close after her and, shore- Footed as a cat is, dumb In a rigg there and left home, 10 ARMAZINDY With a man a-drivin who "Loved her ever fond and true," As her note went on to say, When Sol read the thing next day. Really didn t pear to be Extry waste o sympathy Over Sol pore feller! Yit, Sake o them-air little bit O two orphants as you might Call em then, by law and right, Sol s old friends wuz sorry, and Tried to hold him out their hand Same as allus: But he d flinch Tel, jes peared like, inch by inch, He let all holts go; and so Took to drinkin , don t you know, 1 Tel, to make a long tale short, He wuz fuller than he ort To a-ben, at work one day Bout his th asher, and give way, Kindo -like, and fell and ketched In the beltin . Rid and fetched Armazindy to him. He Begged me to. But time at she Reached his side, he smiled and tried To speak Couldn t. So he died ARMAZWDY II Hands all turned and left her there And went somers else somewhere. Last, she called us back in clear Voice as man ll ever hear- Clear and stiddy, peared to me, As her old Pap s ust to be. Give us orders what to do Bout the body hepped us, too. So it wuz, Sol Stephens passed >N Armazindy s hands at last. More n that, she claimed at she Had consent from him to be Mother to his childern now Thout no parents anyhow. Yes-sir! and she s got em, too, Folks saw nothin else ud do So they let her have her way Like she s doin yit to-day ! Years now, I ve ben coaxin 7 her Armazindy Ballenger To in-large her fambily Jes one more by takin* me Which I m feared she never will, Though I m lectioneerin still. 12 THE OLD TRUNDLE-BED THE OLD TRUNDLE-BED O THE old trundle-bed where f slept when a boy! What canopied king might not covet the joy? The glory and peace of that slumber of mine, Like a long, gracious rest in the bosom divine: The quaint, homely couch, hidden close from the light, But daintily drawn from its hiding at night. O a nest of delight, from the foot to the head, Was the queer little, dear little, old trundle-bed ! O the old trundle-bed, where I wondering saw The stars through the window, and listened with awe To the sigh of the winds as they tremblingly crept Through the trees where the robin so restlessly slept: Where I heard the low, murmurous chirp of the wren, And the katydid listlessly chirrup again, Till my fancies grew faint and were drowsily led Through the maze of the dreams of the old trundle-bed. O the old trundle-bed ! O the old trundle-bed ! With its plump little pillow, and old-fashioned spread ; Its snowy-white sheets, and the blankets above, Smoothed down and tucked round with the touches of love ; THE OLD TRUNDLE-BED 13 The voice of my mother to lull me to sleep With the old fairy-stories my memories keep Still fresh as the lilies that bloom o er the head Once bowed o er my own in the old trundle-bed. 14 NATURAL PERVERSITIES NATURAL PERVERSITIES I AM not prone to moralize In scientific doubt On certain facts that Nature tries To puzzle us about, For I am no philosopher Of wise elucidation, But speak of things as they occur, From simple observation. 1 notice little things to wit: 1 never missed a train Because I didn t run for it; I never knew it rain That my umbrella wasn t lent, Or, when in my possession, The sun but wore, to all intent, A jocular expression. I never knew a creditor To dun me for a debt But I was "cramped" or "busted"; or I never knew one yet, When I had plenty in my purse, To make the least invasion, As I, accordingly perverse, Have courted no occasion. NATURAL PERVERSITIES 15 Nor do I claim to comprehend What Nature has in view In giving us the very friend To trust we oughtn t to. But so it is : The trusty gun Disastrously exploded Is always sure to be the one We didn t think was loaded. Our moaning is another s mirth, And what is worse by half, We say the funniest thing on earth And never raise a laugh : Mid friends that love us overwell, And sparkling jests and liquor, Our hearts somehow are liable To melt in tears the quicker. We reach the wrong when most we seek The right; in like effect, We stay the strong and not the weak- Do most when we neglect Neglected genius truth be said As wild and quick as tinder, The more you seek to help ahead The more you seem to hinder. 16 NATURAL PERVERSITIES I ve known the least the greatest, too And, on the selfsame plan, The biggest fool I ever knew Was quite a little man : We find we ought, and then we won t We prove a thing, then doubt it, Know everything but when we don t Know anything about it THE OLD SCHOOL-CHUM i/ THE OLD SCHOOL-CHUM HE puts the poem by, to say His eyes are not themselves to-day! A sudden glamour o er his sight A something vague, indefinite An oft-recurring blur that blinds The printed meaning of the lines, And leaves the mind all dusk and dim In swimming darkness strange to him! It is not childishness, I guess, Yet something of the tenderness That used to wet his lashes when A boy seems troubling him again ; The old emotion, sweet and wild, That drove him truant when a child, That he might hide the tears that fell Above the lesson " Little Nell." And so it is he puts aside The poem he has vainly tried 18 THE OLD SCHOOL-CHUM To follow; and, as one who sighs In failure, through a poor disguise Of smiles, he dries his tears, to say His eyes are not themselves to-day. WRITIN BACK TO THE HOME-FOLKS 19 WRITIN BACK TO THE HOME-FOLKS MY dear old friends It jes beats all, The way you write a letter So s ever* last line beats the first, And ever <?x/-un s better! W y, ever fool-thing you putt down You make so intern/in , A feller, readin of em all, Can t tell which is the best-un. It s all so comfortin and good, Pears-like I almost hear ye And git more sociabler, you know, And hitch my cheer up near ye And jes smile on ye like the sun Acrosst the whole per-rairies In Aprile when the thaw s begun And country couples marries. It s all so good-old-fashioned like To talk jes like we re thinking Without no hidin back o fans And giggle-un and winkin , Ner sizin how each-other s dressed Like some is allus doin , " Is Marthy Ellen s basque ben turned Er shore-enough a new-un ! " 20 WRITIW BACK TO THE HOME-FOLKS Er "ef Steve s city-friend haint jes A tetle kindo -sorto " Er "wears them-air blame eye-glasses Jes cause he hadn t ort to?" And so straight on, dad-libtium, Tel all of us feels, someway, Jes like our "comp ny" wuz the best When we git up to come way! That s why I like old friends like you, Jes cause you re so dbidirf. Ef I was built to live "fer keeps," My principul residin* Would be amongst the folks at kep* Me allus tbinkin 1 of em, And sorto eechin all the time To tell em how I love em. Sich folks, you know, I jes love so I wouldn t live without em, Er couldn t even drap asleep But what I dreamp* about em, And ef we minded God, I guess We d all love one-another Jes like one fam bly, me and Pap And Madaline and Mother. THE BLIND GIRL 21 THE BLIND GIRL IF 1 might see his face to-day! He is so happy now! To hear His laugh is like a roundelay So ringing-sweet and clear! His step I heard it long before He bounded through the open door To tell his marriage. Ah ! so kind So good he is! And I so blind! But thus he always came to me Me, first of all, he used to bring His sorrow to his ecstasy His hopes and everything; And if I joyed with him or wept, It was not long the music slept, And if he sung, or if I played Or both, we were the braver made. I grew to know and understand His every word at every call, The gate-latch hinted, and his hand In mine confessed it all : He need not speak one word to me He need not sigh I need not see, But just the one touch of his palm, And I would answer song or psalm. 22 THE BLIND GIRL He wanted recognition name He hungered so for higher things, The altitudes of power and fame, And all that fortune brings: Till, with his great heart fevered thus, And aching as impetuous, I almost wished sometimes that be Were blind and patient made, like me. But he has won ! I knew he would. Once in the mighty Eastern mart, I knew his music only could Be sung in every heart! And when he proudly sent me this From out the great metropolis, I bent above the graven score And, weeping, kissed it o er and o er.- And yet not blither sing the birds Than this glad melody, the tune As sweetly wedded with the words As flowers with middle-June; Had he not told me, I had known It was composed of love alone His love for her. And she can see His happy face eternally! THE BLIND GIRL 23 While / O God, forgive, I pray! Forgive me that I did so long To look upon his face to-day! I know the wish was wrong. Yea, I am thankful that my sight Is shielded safe from such delight: I can pray better, with this blur Of blindness both for him and her. 24 WE DEFER THINGS WE DEFER THINGS WE say and we say and we say, We promise, engage and declare, Till a year from tomorrow is yesterday, And yesterday is Where? THE MUSKINGUM VALLEY 25 THE MUSKINGUM VALLEY THE Muskingum Valley ! How longin the gaze A feller throws back on its long summer-days, When the smiles of its blossoms and my smiles wuz one- And-the-same, from the rise to the set o the sun : Wher the hills sloped as soft as the dawn down to noon, And the river run by like an old fiddle-tune, And the hours glided past as the bubbles ud glide, All so loaferin -like, long the path o the tide. In the Muskingum Valley it peared like the skies Looked lovin on me as my own mother s eyes, While the laughin -sad song of the stream seemed to be Like a lullaby angels was wastin on me Tel, swimmin* the air, like the gossamer s thread, Twixt the blue underneath and the blue overhead, My thoughts went a-stray in that so-to-speak realm Wher Sleep bared her breast as a piller fer them. In the Muskingum Valley, though far, far a-way, I know that the winter is bleak there to-day- No bloom ner perfume on the brambles er trees Wher the buds used to bloom, now the icicles freeze.- That the grass is all hid long the side of the road Wher the deep snow has drifted and shifted and blowed And I feel in my life the same changes is there, The frost in my heart, and the snow in my hair. 26 THE MUSKINGUM V ALLEY But, Muskingum Valley ! my memory sees Not the white on the ground, but the green in the trees Not the froze -over gorge, but the current, as clear And warm as the drop that has jes trickled here ; Not the choked-up ravine, and the hills topped with snow, But the grass and the blossoms I knowed long ago When my little bare feet wundered down wher the stream In the Muskingum Valley flowed on like a dream. FOR THIS CHRISTMAS 27 FOR THIS CHRISTMAS YE old-time stave that pealeth out To Christmas revelers all, At tavern-tap and wassail bout, And in ye banquet hall.- Whiles ye old burden rings again, Add yet ye verse, as due: Cod bless you, merry gentlemen " <And gentlewomen, too! 28 A POOR MAN S WEALTH A POOR MAN S WEALTH A POOR man? Yes, I must confess- No wealth of gold do I possess; No pastures fine, with grazing kine, Nor fields of waving grain are mine; No foot of fat or fallow land Where rightfully my feet may stand The while I claim it as my own- By deed and title, mine alone. Ah, poor indeed ! perhaps you say But spare me your compassion, pray! When I ride not with you I walk In Nature s company, and talk With one who will not slight or slur The child forever dear to her And one who answers back, be sure, With smile for smile, though I am poor. And while communing thus, I count An inner wealth of large amount, The wealth of honest purpose blent With Penury s environment, The wealth of owing naught to-day But debts that I would gladly pay, With wealth of thanks still unexpressed With cumulative interest. A POOR MAWS WEALTH 20 A wealth of patience and content For all my ways improvident ; A faith still fondly exercised For all my plans unrealized ; A wealth of promises that still, Howe er I fail, I hope to fill ; A wealth of charity for those Who pity me my ragged clothes. A poor man? Yes, I must confess No wealth of gold do I possess ; No pastures fine, with grazing kine, Nor fields of waving grain are mine; But ah, my friend ! I ve wealth, no end I For millionaires might condescend To bend the knee and envy me This opulence of poverty. THE LITTLE RED RIBBON THE LITTLE RED RIBBON THE little red ribbon, the ring and the rose! The summertime comes, and the summertime goes And never a blossom in all of the land As white as the gleam of her beckoning hand ! The long winter months, and the glare of the snows ; The little red ribbon, the ring and the rose ! And never a glimmer of sun in the skies As bright as the light of her glorious eyes ! Dreams only are true ; but they fade and are gone For her face is not here when I waken at dawn ; The little red ribbon, the ring and the rose Mine only ; bers only the dream and repose. I am weary of waiting, and weary of tears, And my heart wearies, too, all these desolate years, Moaning over the one only song that it knows, The little red ribbon, the ring and the rose ! "HOW DID YOU REST, LAST NIGHT?" "HOW DID YOU REST, LAST .NIGHT?" "HOW did you rest, last night?" I ve heard my gran pap say Them words a thousand times that s right Jes them words thataway! As punctchul-like as morning dast To ever heave in sight Gran pap ud allus haf to ast "How did you rest, last night?" Us young-uns used to grin, At breakfast, on the sly, And mock the wobble of his chin And eyebrows helt so high And kind: "How did you rest, last night? 1 We d mumble and let on Our voices trimbled, and our sight Was dim, and hearin gone. ********** Bad as I used to be, All I m a-wantin is As puore and ca m a sleep fer me And sweet a sleep as his ! And so I pray, on Jedgment Day To wake, and with its light See his face dawn, and hear him say "How did you rest, last night?" 32 A GOOD-BYE A GOOD-BYE "GOOD-BYE, my friend!" He takes her hand The pressures blend: They understand But vaguely why, with drooping eye, Each moans" Good-bye ! Good-bye : "Dear friend, good-bye 1 " she could smile If she might cry A little while! She says, " I ought to smile but I- Forgive me There ! Good-bye I " " Good-bye? Ah, no: 1 hate," says he, " These * good-byes so ! " "And /," says she, "Detest them so why, I should dt Were this a real good-bye ! " WHEN MAIMIE MARRIED 33 WHEN MAIMIE MARRIED WHEN Maimie married Charley Brown, Joy took possession of the town ; The young folks swarmed in happy throngs They rang the bells they caroled songs They carpeted the steps that led Into the church where they were wed ; And up and down the altar-stair They scattered roses everywhere; When, in her orange-blossom crown, Queen Maimie married Charley Brown. So beautiful she was, it seemed Men, looking on her, dreamed they dreamed ; And he, the holy man who took Her hand in his, so thrilled and shook, The gargoyles round the ceiling s rim Looked down and leered and grinned at him Until he half forgot his part Of sanctity, and felt his heart Beat worldward through his sacred gown- When Maimie married Charley Brown. The bridesmaids kissed her, left and right Fond mothers hugged her with delight Young men of twenty-seven were seen To blush like lads of seventeen, 34 WHEN MAIMIE MARRIED The while they held her hand to quote Such sentiments as poets wrote. Yea, all the heads that Homage bends Were bowed to her But O my friends, My hopes went up my heart went down- When Maimie married Charley Brown ! THIS DEAR CHILD-HEARTED WOMAN" 35 "THIS DEAR CHILD-HEARTED WOMAN THAT IS DEAD" I THIS woman, with the dear child-heart, Ye mourn as dead, is where and what? With faith as artless as her Art, I question not, But dare divine, and feel, and know Her blessedness as hath been writ In allegory. Even so I fashion it: II A stately figure, rapt and awed In her new guise of Angelhood, Still lingered, wistful knowing God Was very good. Her thought s fine whisper filled the paw. And, listening, the Master smiled, And lo! the stately angel was A little child, 36 TO A POET-CRITIC TO A POET-CRITIC YES, the bee sings I confess it Sweet as honey Heaven bless it! Yit he d be a sweeter singer Ef he didn t have no stinger. AN OLD-TIMER 37 AN OLD-TIMER HERE where the wayward stream Is restful as a dream, And where the banks o erlook A pool from out whose deeps My pleased face upward peeps, I cast my hook. Silence and sunshine blent! A Sabbath-like content Of wood and wave ; a free- Hand landscape grandly wrought Of Summer s brightest thought And mastery. For here form, light and shade, And color all are laid With skill so rarely fine, The eye may even see The ripple tremblingly Lip at the line. I mark the dragonfly Flit waveringly by In ever- veering flight, 38 AN OLD-TIMER Till, in a hush profound, I see him eddy round The " cork "and light! Ho ! with the boy s faith then Brimming my heart again, And knowing, soon or late, The "nibble" yet shall roll Its thrills along the pole, I breathless wait. THE SILENT VICTORS 39 THE SILENT VICTORS MAY 30, 1878 " Dying for victory, cheer on cheer Thundered on his eager ear." CHARLES L. HOLSTEIN I DEEP, tender, firm and true, the Nation s heart Throbs for her gallant heroes passed away, Who in grim Battle s drama played their part, And slumber here today. Warm hearts that beat their lives out at the shrine Of Freedom, while our country held its breath As brave battalions wheeled themselves in line And marched upon their death: When Freedom s Flag, its natal wounds scarce healed, Was torn from peaceful winds and flung again To shudder in the storm of battle-field The elements of men, When every star that glittered was a mark For Treason s ball, and every rippling bar Of red and white was sullied with the dark And purple stain of war: 40 THE SILENT VICTORS When angry guns, like famished beasts of prey, Were howling o er their gory feast of lives, And sending dismal echoes far away To mothers, maids, and wives: The mother, kneeling in the empty night, With pleading hands uplifted for the son Who, even as she prayed, had fought the fight The victory had won : The wife, with trembling hand that wrote to say The babe was waiting for the sire s caress The letter meeting that upon the way, The babe was fatherless : The maiden, with her lips, in fancy, pressed Against the brow once dewy with her breath, Now lying numb, unknown, and uncaressed Save by the dews of death . II What meed of tribute can the poet pay The Soldier, but to trail the ivy-vine Of idle rhyme above his grave today In epitaph design? Or wreathe with laurel-words the icy brows That ache no longer with a dream of fame, But, pillowed lowly in the narrow house, Renown d beyond the name. THE SILENT VICTORS 41 The dewy teardrops of the night may fall, And tender morning with her shining hand May brush them from the grasses green and tall That undulate the land. Yet song of Peace nor din of toil and thrift, Nor chanted honors, with the flowers we heap, Can yield us hope the Hero s head to lift Out of its dreamless sleep : The dear old flag, whose faintest flutter flies A stirring echo through each patriot breast, Can never coax to life the folded eyes That saw its wrongs redressed That watched it waver when the fight was hot, And blazed with newer courage to its aid, Regardless of the shower of shell and shot Through which the charge was made ; And when, at last, they saw it plume its wings, Like some proud bird in stormy element, And soar untrammeled on its wanderings, They closed in death, content. O mother, you who miss the smiling face Of that dear boy who vanished from your sight, And left you weeping o er the vacant place He used to fill at night, 42 THE SILENT VICTORS Who left you dazed, bewildered, on a day That echoed wild huzzas, and roar of guns That drowned the farewell words you tried to say To incoherent ones ; Be glad and proud you had the life to give- Be comforted through all the years to come, Your country has a longer life to live, Your son a better home. widow, weeping o er the orphaned child, Who only lifts his questioning eyes to send A keener pang to grief unreconciled, Teach him to comprehend He had a father brave enough to stand Before the fire of Treason s blazing gun, That, dying, he might will the rich old land Of Freedom to. his son. And, maiden, living on through lonely years In fealty to love s enduring ties, With strong faith gleaming through the tender tears That gather in your eyes, Look up ! and own, in gratefulness of prayer, Submission to the will of Heaven s High Ho-st: 1 see your Angel-soldier pacing there, Expectant at his post. THE SILENT VICTORS 43 I see the rank and file of armies vast, That muster under one supreme control ; I hear the trumpet sound the signal-blast The calling of the roll The grand divisions falling into line And forming, under voice of One alone Who gives command, and joins with tone divine The hymn that shakes the Throne. IV And thus, in tribute to the forms that rest In their last camping-ground, we strew the bloom And fragrance of the flowers they loved the best, In silence o er the tomb. With reverent hands we twine the Hero s wreath And clasp it tenderly on stake or stone That stands the sentinel for each beneath Whose glory is our own. While in the violet that greets the sun, We see the azure eye of some lost boy; And in the rose the ruddy cheek of one We kissed in childish joy, 44 THE SILENT VICTORS Recalling, haply, when he marched away, He laughed his loudest though his eyes were wet. The kiss he gave his mother s brow that day Is there and burning yet: And through the storm of grief around her tossed, One ray of saddest comfort she may see, Four hundred thousand sons like hers were lost To weeping Liberty. But draw aside the drapery of gloom, And let the sunshine chase the clouds away And gild with brighter glory every tomb We decorate today: And in the holy silence reigning round, While prayers of perfume bless the atmosphere, Where loyal souls of love and faith are found, Thank God that Peace is here! And let each angry impulse that may start, Be smothered out of every loyal breast ; And, rocked within the cradle of the heart, Let every sorrow rest. UP AND DOWN OLD BRANDY W ME 45 UP AND DOWN OLD BRANDYWINE UP and down old Brandywine, In the days at s past and gone With a dad-burn hook-and-line And a saplin -pole i swawn ! I ve had more fun, to the square Inch, than ever awnvhere ! Heaven to come can t discount mine Up and down old Brandywine ! Haint no sense in wisbin yit Wisht to goodness I could jes Gee " the blame world round and git Back to that old happiness ! Kindo drive back in the shade " The old Covered Bridge " there laid Crosst the crick, and sorto soak My soul over, hub and spoke 1 Honest, now ! it haint no dream At Pm wantin , but thefac s As they wuz ; the same old stream, And the same old times, i jacks ! 46 UP AND DOWN OLD BRANDY WINE Gim me back my bare feet and Stonebruise too ! And scratched and tanned ! And let hottest dog-days shine Up and down old Brandywine ! In and on betwixt the trees Long the banks, pour down yer noon, Kindo* curdled with the breeze And the yallerhammer s tune ; And the smokin , chokin dust O the turnpike at its wusst Saturdays, say, when it seems Road s jes jammed with country teams ! Whilse the old town, fur away Crosst the hazy pasturMand, Dozed-like in the heat o day Peaceful as a hired hand. Jolt the gravel th ough the floor O the old bridge ! grind and roar With yer blame percession-line Up and down old Brandywine! Souse me and my new straw-hat Off the foot-log ! what / care? Fist shoved in the crown o that Like the old Clown ust to wear. UP .AND DOWN OLD BRANDY WINE 47 Wouldn t swop it fer a old Gin-u-wine raal crown o gold! Keep yer King ef you ll gim me Jes the boy I ust to be ! Spill my fishing-worms ! er steal My best " goggle-eye !" but you Can t lay hands on joys I feel Nibblin like they ust to do ! So, in memory, to-day Same old ripple lips away At my cork and saggin line, Up and down old Brandywine ! There the logs is, round the hill, Where" Old Irvin" ust to lift Out sunfish from daylight till Dew-fall fore he d leave " The Drift" And give us a chance and then Kindo fish back home again, Ketchin em jes left and right Where we hadn t got " a bite !" Er, way windin out and in, Old path th ough the iurnweeds And dog-fennel to yer chin Then come suddent, th ough the reeds 48 UP AND DOH/N OLD BRANDY IV WE And cat-tails, smack into where Them-air woods-hogs ust to scare Us clean crosst the County-line, Up and down old Brandywine ! But the dim roar o the dam It ud coax us furder still Tords the old race, slow and ca m, Slidin on to Huston s mill Where, I spect, " The Freeport crowd " Never warmed to us er lowed We wuz quite so overly Welcome as we aimed to be. Still it peared-like ever thing Fur away from home as there Had more r^ sA-like, i jing ! Fish in stream, er bird in air! O them rich old bottom-lands, Past where Cowden s Schoolhouse stands! Wortermelons master-mine ! Up and down old Brandywine ! And sich pop-paws ! Lumps o raw Gold and green, jes oozy th ough With ripe yaller like you ve saw Custard-pie with no crust to: UP AND DOWN OLD BRANDY WINE 49 And jes gorges o wild plums, Till a feller d suck his thumbs Clean up to his elbows ! My! Me some more er lem me die ! Up and down old Brandywine 1 .... Stripe me with pokeberry-juice I Flick me with a pizenvine And yell " Yip!" and lem me loose! Old now as I then wuz young, F I could sing as I have sung, Song *ud surely ring dee-vine Up and down old Brandywine! 50 THREE SINGING FRIENDS THREE SINGING FRIENDS I LEE O. HARRIS SCHOOLMASTER and Songmaster! Memory Enshrines thee with an equal love for thy Duality of gifts, thy pure and high Endowments Learning rare, and Poesy. These were as mutual handmaids, serving thee. Throughout all seasons of the years gone by, With all enduring joys twixt earth and sky In turn shared nobly with thy friends and me. Thus is it that thy clear song, ringing on, Is endless inspiration, fresh and free As the old Mays at verge of June sunshine; And musical as then, at dewy dawn, The robin hailed us, and all twinklingly Our one path wandered under wood and vine. II BENJ. S. PARKER Thy rapt song makes of Earth a realm of light And shadow mystical as some dreamland Arched with unfathomed azure vast and grand With splendor of the morn ; or dazzling bright THREE SINGING FRIENDS 51 With orient noon ; or strewn with stars of night Thick as the daisies blown in grasses fanned By odorous midsummer breezes and Showered over by all bird-songs exquisite. This is thy voice s beatific art To make melodious all things below, Calling through them, from far, diviner space, Thy clearer hail to us. The faltering heart Thou cheerest; and thy fellow mortal so Fares onward under Heaven with lifted face. Ill JAMES NEWTON MATTHEWS Bard of our Western world ! its prairies wide, With edging woods, lost creeks and hidden ways; Its isolated farms, with roundelays Of orchard warblers heard on every side; Its crossroad schoolhouse, wherein still abide Thy fondest memories, since there thy gaze First fell on classic verse; and thou, in praise Of that, didst find thine own song glorified. So singing, smite the strings and counterchange The lucently melodious drippings of Thy happy harp, from airs of "Tempe Vale," To chirp and trill of lowliest flight and range, In praise of our Today and home and love Thou meadowlark no less than nightingale. 52 A NOON LULL A NOON LULL POSSUM in de tater-patch; Chicken-hawk a-hangin Stiddy bove de stable-lot, An cyarpet-loom a-bangin ! Hi! Mr. Hoppergrass, chawin yo terbacker, Flick ye wid er buggy-whirp yer spit er little blacker ! Niggah in de roas in -yeers, Whiskers in de shuckin ; Weasel croppin mighty shy, But ole hen a-cluckin ! What s got de matter er de mule-colt now? Drapt in de turnip-hole, chasin f um de cow! A WINDY DAY 53 A WINDY DAY THE dawn was a dawn of splendor, And the blue of the morning skies Was as placid and deep and tender As the blue of a baby s eyes; The sunshine flooded the mountain, And flashed over land and sea Like the spray of a glittering fountain. But the wind the wind Ah me ! Like a weird invisible spirit, It swooped in its airy flight; And the earth, as the stress drew near it. Quailed as in mute affright ; The grass in the green fields quivered The waves of the smitten brook Chillily shuddered and shivered, And the reeds bowed down and shook. Like a sorrowful miserere It sobbed and it wailed and blew Till the leaves on the trees looked weary, And my prayers were weary, too ; And then, like the sunshine s glimmer That failed in the awful strain, All the hope of my eyes grew dimmer In a spatter of spiteful rain. 54 MY HENRY MY HENRY HE S jes a great, big, awk ard, hulkin Feller, humped, and sorto sulkin - Like, and ruther still-appearin Kind-as-ef he wuzn t keerin Whether school helt out er not That s my Henry, to a dot! Allus kindo* liked him whether Childern, er growed-up together! Fifteen year ago and better, Fore he ever knowed a letter, Run acrosst the little fool In my Primer-class at school. When the Teacher wuzn t lookin , He d be th owin wads ; er crookin Pins ; er sprinklin pepper, more n Likely, on the stove; er borin Gimblet-holes up thue his desk Nothin* that boy wouldn t resk! But, somehow, as I was goin* On to say, he seemed so knowing Other ways, and cute and cunnin Allus wuz a notion runnin* Thue my giddy, fool-head he Jes had ben cut out fer me! MY HENRY 55 Don t go much on prophesy in 1 , But last night whilse I wuz fryin 5 Supper, with that man a-pitchin Little Marthy round the kitchen, Think-says-I, " Them baby s eyes Is my Henry s, jes p cise!" 56 THE SONG I NEVER SING THE SONG I NEVER SING AS when in dreams we sometimes hear A melody so faint and fine And musically sweet and clear, It flavors all the atmosphere With harmony divine, So, often in my waking dreams, I hear a melody that seems Like fairy voices whispering To me the song I never sing. Sometimes when brooding o er the years My lavish youth has thrown away When all the glowing past appears But as a mirage that my tears Have crumbled to decay, I thrill to find the ache and pain Of my remorse is stilled again, As, forward bent and listening, I hear the song I never sing. A murmuring of rythmic words, Adrift on tunes whose currents flow Melodious with the trill of birds, And far-off lowing of the herds In lands of long-ago ; THE SONG I NEfER SING 57 And every sound the truant loves Comes to me like the coo of doves When first in blooming fields of Spring I heard the song I never sing. The echoes of old voices, wound In limpid streams of laughter where The river Time runs bubble-crowned, And giddy eddies ripple round The lilies growing there; Where roses, bending o er the brink, Drain their own kisses as they drink, And ivies climb and twine and cling About the song I never sing. An ocean-surge of sound that falls As though a tide of Heavenly art Had tempested the gleaming halls And crested o er the golden walls In showers on my heart.... Thus thus, with open arms and eyes Uplifted toward the alien skies, Forgetting every earthly thing, I hear the song I never sing. 58 THE SONG I NEl/ER SING O nameless lay, sing clear and strong, Pour down thy melody divine Till purifying floods of song Have washed away the stains of wrong That dim this soul of mine! O woo me near and nearer thee, Till my glad lips may catch the key, And, with a voice unwavering, Join in the song I never sing. TO EDGAR WILSON NYE 59 TO EDGAR WILSON NYE O " WILLIAM," in thy blithe companionship What liberty is mine what sweet release From clamorous strife, and yet what boisterous peace ! Ho ! ho ! it is thy fancy s finger-tip That dints the dimple now, and kinks the lip That scarce may sing, in all this glad increase Of merriment ! So, pray-thee, do not cease To cheer me thus ; for, underneath the quip Of thy droll sorcery, the wrangling fret Of all distress is stilled no syllable Of sorrow vexeth me no teardrops wet My teeming lids save those that leap to tell Thee thou st a guest that overweepeth, yet Only because thou jokest overwell. 60 LITTLE DAVID LITTLE DAVID THE mother of the little boy that sleeps Has blest assurance, even as she weeps:- She knows her little boy has now no pain- No further ache, in body, heart or brain ; All sorrow is lulled for him all distress Passed into utter peace and restfulness. All health that heretofore has been denied All happiness, all hope, and all beside Of childish longing, now he clasps and keeps In voiceless joy the little boy that sleeps. OUT OF THE HITHERWHERE 61 OUT OF THE HITHERWHERE OUT of the hitherwhere into the YON The land that the Lord s love rests upon ; Where one may rely on the friends he meets, And the smiles that greet him along the streets: Where the mother that left you years ago Will lift the hands that were folded so, And put them about you, with all the love And tenderness you are dreaming of. Out of the hitherwhere into the YON Where all of the friends of your youth have gone,- Where the old schoolmate that laughed with you, Will laugh again as he used to do, Running to meet you, with such a face As lights like a moon the wondrous place Where God is living, and glad to live, Since He is the Master and may forgive. Out of the hitherwhere into the YON ! Stay the hopes we are leaning on You, Divine, with Your merciful eyes Looking down from the far-away skies, Smile upon us, and reach and take Our worn souls Home for the old home s sake. And so Amen, for our all seems gone Out of the hitherwhere into the YON. 62 RABBIT IN THE CROSS-TIES RABBIT IN THE CROSS-TIES RABBIT in the cross-ties. Punch him out quick! Git a twister on him With a long prong stick. Watch him on the south side- Watch him on the Hi ! There he goes! Sic him, Tige! Yi! YIII Yill! SERENADE TO NORA 63 SERENADE TO NORA THE moonlight is failin The sad stars are palin The black wings av night are a-droopin an* trailing The wind s miserere Sounds lonesome an* dreary; The katydid s dumb an the nightingale s weary. Troth, Nora! I m wadin The grass an paradin The dews at your dure, wid my swate serenading Alone and forsaken, Whilst you re never wakin To tell me you re wid me an I am mistaken I Don t think that my singin Its wrong to be flingin Forninst av the dreams that the Angels are bringin ; For if your pure spirit Might waken and hear it, You d never be draamin the Saints could come near it ! Then lave off your slaapin The pulse av me s laapin To have the two eyes av yez down on me paapin*. Och, Nora! Its hopin Your windy ye ll open And light up the night were the heart av me s gropin . 64 HE AND I HE AND I JUST drifting on together- He and I As through the balmy weather Of July Drift two thistle-tufts imbedded Each in each by zephyrs wedded Touring upward, giddy-headed, For the sky. And, veering up and onward, Do we seem Forever drifting dawn ward In a dream, Where we meet song-birds that know us, And the winds their kisses blow us, While the years flow far below us Like a stream. And we are happy very^ He and I Aye, even glad and merry Though on high The heavens are sometimes shrouded By the midnight storm, and clouded Till the pallid moon is crowded From the sky. HE /tND I 65 My spirit ne er expresses Any choice But to clothe him with caresses And rejoice; And as he laughs, it is in Such a tone the moonbeams glisten And the stars come out to listen To his voice. And so, whatever the weather, He and I, With our lives linked thus together, Float and fly As two thistle-tufts imbedded Each in each by zephyrs wedded" Touring upward, giddy-headed, For the sky. 66 WHAT REDRESS WHAT REDRESS I PRAY you, do not use this thing For vengeance; but if questioning What wound, when dealt your humankind. Goes deepest, surely he will find Who wrongs you, loving Um no less There s nothing hurts like tenderness. DREAMER, SAY 67 DREAMER, SAY DREAMER, say, will you dream for me A wild sweet dream of a foreign land, Whose border sips of a foaming sea With lips of coral and silver sand; Where warm winds loll on the shady deeps, Or lave themselves in the tearful mist The great wild wave of the breaker weeps O er crags of opal and amethyst? Dreamer, say, will you dream a dream Of tropic shades in the lands of shine, Where the lily leans o er an amber stream That flows like a rill of wasted wine, Where the palm-trees, lifting their shields of green, Parry the shafts of the Indian sun Whose splintering vengeance falls between The reeds below where the waters run? Dreamer, say, will you dream of love That lives in a land of sweet perfume, Where the stars drip down from the skies above In molten spatters of bud and bloom? Where never the weary eyes are wet, And never a sob in the balmy air, And only the laugh of the paroquette Breaks the sleep of the silence there? 68 WHEN LIDE MARRIED HIM WHEN LIDE MARRIED HIM WHEN Lide married him w y, she had to jes dee-fy The whole popilation ! But she never bat an eye ! Her parents begged, and threatened she must give him up that he Wuz jes " a common drunkard ! " And he wu% y ap- pearantly. Swore they d chase him off the place Ef he ever showed his face Long after she d eloped with him and married him fer shore ! When Lide married him, it wuz " Katy, bar the door!" When Lide married him Well ! she had to go and be A hired girl in town somewheres while he tromped round to see What he could git that he could do, you might say, jes sawed wood From door-to-door ! that s wh at he done cause that wuz best he could 1 And the strangest thing, i jing ! Wuz, he didn t drink a thing, But jes got down to bizness, like he someway wanted to, When Lide married him, like they warned her not to do ! WHEN LIDE MARRIED HIM 69 When Lide married him er, ruther, had ben married A little up ards of a year some feller come and carried That hired girl away with him a ruther stylish feller In a bran-new green spring-wagon, with the wheels striped red and yeller: And he whispered, as they driv Tords the country, "Now will live!" And someptn else she laughed to hear, though both her eyes wuz dim, Bout " trustirf Love and Heav n above, sence Lide mar ried him!" 70 MY BRIDE THAT IS TO BE MY BRIDE THAT IS TO BE O SOUL of mine, look out and see My bride, my bride that is to be! Reach out with mad, impatient hands, And draw aside futurity As one might draw a veil aside And so unveil her where she stands Madonna-like and glorified The queen of undiscovered lands Of love, to where she beckons me My bride my bride that is to be. The shadow of a willow-tree That wavers on a garden-wall In summertime may never fall In attitude as gracefully As my fair bride that is to be; Nor ever Autumn s leaves of brown As lightly flutter to the lawn As fall her fairy-feet upon The path of love she loiters down. O er drops of dew she walks, and yet Not one may stain her sandal wet- Aye, she might dance upon the way Nor crush a single drop to spray, So airy-like she seems to me, My bride, my bride that is to be. MY BRIDE THAT IS TO BE 71 1 know not if her eyes are light As summer-skies or dark as night, I only know that they are dim With mystery: In vain I peer To make their hidden meaning clear, While o er their surface, like a tear That ripples to the silken brim, A look of longing seems to swim AH worn and wearylike to me; And then, as suddenly, my sight Is blinded with a smile so bright, Through folded lids I still may see My bride, my bride that is to be. Her face is like a night of June Upon whose brow the crescent-moon Hangs pendant in a diadem Of stars, with envy lighting them. And, like a wild cascade, her hair Floods neck and shoulder, arm and wrist, Till only through a gleaming mist I seem to see a siren there, With lips of love and melody And open arms and heaving breast Wherein I fling myself to rest, The while my heart cries hopelessly For my fair bride that is to be.... 72 MY BRIDE THAT IS TO BE Nay, foolish heart and blinded eyes! My bride hath need of no disguise. But, rather, let her come to me In such a form as bent above My pillow when, in infancy, I knew not anything but love. O let her come from out the lands Of Womanhood not fairy isles, And let her come with Woman s hands And Woman s eyes of tears and smiles,- With Woman s hopefulness and grace Of patience lighting up her face : And let her diadem be wrought Of kindly deed and prayerful thought, That ever over all distress May beam the light of cheerfulness. And let her feet be brave to fare The labyrinths of doubt and care, That, following, my own may find The path to Heaven God designed. O let her come like this to me My bride my bride that is to be. . " RINGWORM FRANK " 73 "RINGWORM FRANK" JEST Frank Reed s his real name though Boys all calls him " Ringworm Frank," Cause he allus runs round so. No man can t tell where to bank Frank 11 be, Next you see Er hear of him ! Drat his melts ! That man s allus somers else! We re old pards. But Frank he jest Can t stay still ! Wuz prosper**! here s But lit out on furder West Somers on a ranch, last year: Never heard Nary a word How he liked it, tel to-day, Got this card, reads thisaway: "Dad-burn climate out here makes Me homesick all Winter long, And when Springtime comes, it takes Two pee-wees to sing one song, One sings l pee? And the other one *wt/ 9 Stay right where you air, old pard. Wisht / wuz this postal-card ! " 74 AK EMPTY GLOVE AN EMPTY GLOVE I AN empty glove long withering in the grasp Of Time s cold palm. I lift it to my lips And lo, once more I thrill beneath its clasp, In fancy, as with odorous finger-tips It reaches from the years that used to be And proffers back love, life and all, to me. II Ah ! beautiful she was beyond belief : Her face was fair and lustrous as the moon s ; Her eyes too large for small delight or grief, The smiles of them were Laughter s afternoons; Their tears were April showers, and their love- All sweetest speech swoons ere it speaks thereof. Ill White-fruited cocoa shown against the shell Were not so white as was her brow below The cloven tresses of the hair that fell Across her neck and shoulders of nude snow; Her cheeks chaste pallor, with a crimson stain Her mouth was like a red rose rinsed with rain. AN EMPTY GLOVE 75 IV And this was she my fancy held as good As fair and lovable in every wise As peerless in pure worth of womanhood As was her wondrous beauty in men s eyes. Yet, all alone, I kiss this empty glove The poor husk of the hand I loved and love* 76 OUR OWN OUR OWN THEY walk here with us, hand-in-hand ; We gossip, knee-by-knee ; They tell us all that they have planned Of all their joys to be, And, laughing, leave us : And, to-day, All desolate we cry Across wide waves of voiceless graves Good-bye! Good-bye! Good-bye! MAKE-BELIEVE AND CHILD-PLAY <77> THE FROG am 1 but the Frog the Frog! My realm is the dark bayou, And my throne is the muddy and moss-grown log That the poison-vine clings to And the blacksnakes slide in the slimy tide Where the ghost of the moon looks blue. What am 1 but a King a King! For the royal robes I -wear A sceptre^ too, and a signet-ring, As vassals and serfs declare : And a voice, god wot, that is equaled not In the wide world anywhere! I can talk to the Night the Night! Under her big black wing She tells me the tale of the world outright, And the secret of everything ; For she knows you all, from the time you crawl, To the doom that death will bring. The Storm swoops down, and he blows and blows,- While I drum on his swollen cheek, And croak in his angered eye that glows (79) 8o THE FROG With the lurid lightning s streak; While the rushes drown in the watery frown That his bursting passions leak. And I can see through the sky the sky As clear as a piece of glass ; And I can tell you the how and why Of the things that come to pass And whether the dead are there instead, Or under the graveyard grass. To your Sovereign lord all hail all hail I To your Prince on his throne so grim ! Let the moon swing low, and the high stars trail Their heads in the dust to him ; And the wide world sing : Long live the King, And grace to his royal whim ! "TWIGGS AND TUDENS" IF my old school-chum and room-mate John Skinner is alive to-day and no doubt he is alive, and quite so, be ing, when last heard from, the very alert and effective Train Dispatcher at Butler, Ind., he will not have for gotten a certain night in early June (the 8th) of 1870, in " Old Number Leven " of the Dunbar House, Green field, when he and I sat the long night through, getting ready a famous issue of our old school-paper, " The Cri terion." And he will remember, too, the queer old man who occupied, but that one night, the room just opposite our own, number 13. For reasons wholly aside from any superstitious dread connected with the numerals, 13 was not a desirable room ; its locality was alien to all accommodations, and its comforts, like its furnishings, were extremely meager. In fact, it was the room usu ally assigned to the tramp-printer, who, in those days, was an institution ; or again, it was the local habitation of the oft-recurring transient customer who was too in capacitated to select a room himself when he retired or rather, when he was personally retired by " the hostler," as the gentlemanly night-clerk of that era was habitually designated. As both Skinner and myself between fitful terms of school had respectively served as "printer s devil" in (81) 82 "TWIGGS AND TUDENS" the two rival newspaper offices of the town, it was natural for us to find a ready interest in anything per taining to the newspaper business ; and so it was, per haps, that we had been selected, by our own approval and that of our fellow-students of The Graded Schools, to fill the rather exalted office of editing " The Criterion." Certain it is, that the rather abrupt rise from the lowly duties of the "roller" to the editorial management of a paper of our own (even if issued in hand-writing) we accepted as a natural right ; and, vested in our new power of office, we were largely "shaping the whisper of the throne" about our way. And upon this particular evening it was, as John and I had fairly squared ourselves for the work of the night, that we heard the clatter and shuffle of feet on the side-stairs, and, an instant later, the hostler establish ing some poor unfortunate in 13, just across the hall. " Listen ! " said John, as we heard an old man s voice through the open transom of our door, " Listen at that!" It was an utterance peculiarly refined, in language as well as intonation. A 1 w, mild, rather apologetic voice, gently assuring the hostler that " everything was very snug and comfortable indeed," so far as the "compart ment" was concerned but would not the "attendant" kindly supply a better light, together with pen-and-ink and just a sheet or two of paper, if he would be so "TW1GGS AND TUDENS" 83 very good as to find a pardon for so very troublesome a guest." " Haint no writin -paper," said the hostler, briefly, "and the big lamps is all in use. These fellers here in Leven might let you have some paper and Haint you got a lead-pencil?" "Oh, no matter!" came the impatient yet kindly an swer of the old voice" no matter at all, my good fel low ! Good-night good-night ! " We waited till the sullen, clumpy footsteps down the hall and stair had died away. Then Skinner, with a handful of foolscap, opened our door ; and, with an indorsing smile from me, crossed the hall and tapped at 13 was admitted entered, and very quietly closed the door behind him, evidently that I might not be disturbed. I wrote on in silence for quite a time. It was, in fact, a full half-hour before John had returned, and with a face and eye absolutely blazing with delight. "An old printer," whispered John, answering my look, "and we re in luck: He s a genius, y God! and an Englishman, and knows Dickens personally used to write races with him, and s got a manuscript of his in his "portmanteau," as he calls an old oil cloth knapsack with one lung clean gone. Excuse this extra light. Old man s lamp s like a sore eye, and he s going to touch up the Dickens sketch for us! Hear? 84 "TWIGGS AND TUDENS" For MS for The Criterion. 9 Says he can t sleep he s in distress has a presentiment some dear friend is dying or dead now and he must write write!" This is, in briefest outline, the curious history of the subjoined sketch, especially curious for the reason that the following morning s cablegram announced that the great novelist, Charles Dickens, had been stricken sud denly and seriously the night previous. On the day of this announcement even as " The Criterion" was being read to perfunctorily-interested visitors of The Greenfield Graded Schools came the further announcement of Mr. Dickens death. The old printer s manuscript, here repro duced, is, as originally, captioned TWIGGS AND TUDENS " Now who d want a more cozier little home than me and Tude s got here?" asked Mr. Twiggs, as his twink ling eyes swept caressingly around the cheery little room in which he, alone, stood one chill December even ing as the great St. Paul s was drawling six. "This aint no princely hall with all its gorgeous paraphanaly, as the play-bills says ; but it s what I calls a interior, which for meller comfort and cheerful sur- roundin s, aint to be ekalled by no other flat* on the boundless, never-endin stage of this existence ! " And as the exuberant Mr. Twiggs rendered this observation, he felt called upon to smile and bow most graciously to "TWIGGS AND TUDENS- 85 an invisible audience, whose wild approval he in turn interpreted by an enthusiastic clapping of his hands and the cry of " ongcore ! " in a dozen different keys this strange acclamation being made the more grotesque by a great green parrot perched upon the mantel, which in a voice less musical than penetrating, chimed in with " Hooray for Twiggs and Tudens ! " a very great num ber of times. "Tude s a queer girl," said Mr. Twiggs, subsiding into a reflective calm, broken only by the puffing of his pipe, and the occasional articulation of a thought, as it loitered through his mind. " Tude s a queer girl ! a werry queer girl ! " repeated Mr. Twiggs, pausing again, with a long whiff at his pipe, and marking the graceful swoop the smoke made as it dipped and disappeared up the wide, black-throated chimney; and then, as though dropping into confidence with the great fat kettle on the coals, that steamed and bubbled with some inner parox ysm, he added, "And queer and nothink short, is the lines for Tude, eh? " Now s posin ," he continued, leaning forward and speaking in a tone whose careful intonation might have suggested a more than ordinary depth of wisdom and sagacity, "S posin 1 a pore chap like me, as aint no property only this ere little crooked house , as Tude calls it, and some o the properties I andles at the Drury as I was a-sayin , s posin now a old rough chap like 86 "TWIGGS AND TUDENS" me was jest to tell her all about herself, and who she is and all, and not no kith or kin o mine, let alone a daughter, as she thinks What do you reckon now ud be the upshot, eh?" And as Mr. Twiggs propounded this mysterious query he jabbed the poker prankishly in the short-ribs of the grate, at which the pot, as though humoring a joke it failed to wholly comprehend, set up a chuckling of such asthmatic violence its smothered cachinations tilted its copper lid till Mr. Twiggs was obliged to dash a cup of water in its face. "And Tude s a-comin of a age, too," continued Mr. Twiggs, " when a more tenderer pertecter than a father, so to speak, wouldn t be out o keepin with the nat ral order o things, seein* as how she s sort o 1 startin tor herself-like now. And its a question in my mind, if it ain t my bounden duty as her father or ruther, who has been a father to her ail her life to kind o tell her jest how things is, and all and how / am, and every thingand how I feel as though I ort o stand by her, as I allus have, and allus have had her welfare in view, and kind o feel as how I allus ort o 5 kind o ort o kind o " and here Mr. Twiggs voice fell into silence so abruptly that the drowsy parrot started from its trance- like quiet and cried "Ortokindo! ortokindo ! " with such a strength of seeming mockery that he was brushed violently to the floor by the angry hand of Mr. Tw :*gs and went backing awkwardlv beneath the table. "TWIGGS AND TUDENS" 87 " Blow me," said Mr. Twiggs, " if the knowin impi- dence of that ere bird aint astonishin ! " And then, af ter a serious controversy with the draft of his pipe, he went on with his deliberations. "Lor! it were jest scrumptious to see Tude in The Iron Chest last night! Now, I aint no actur myself, I ve been on, of course, a thousand times as fillinY * sogers and peasants and the like, where I never had no lines, on y in the * choruses; but if I don t know nothin but All hail! All hail! I ve had the experi ence of bein under the baleful hinfluence of the hop pery-glass, c.nd I m free to say it air a ticklish position and no mistake. But Tude! w y> bless you, she warn t the first bit flustered, was she? Feared like she jest felt perfectly at home-likelike her mother afore her! And I m dashed if I didn t feel the cold chills a-creepin* and a-crawlin when she was a-singin * Down by the river there grows a green wilier and a-weepin all night with the bank for her piller; and when she come to the part about wantin to be buried there while the winds was a-blowin close by the stream where her tears was a-flowin , and over her corpse to keep the green willers growin , I m d d if I didn t blubber right out! * And as the highly sympathetic Mr. Twiggs delivered this acknowledgment, he stroked the inner corners of his eyes, and rubbed his thumb and finger on his trowsers. "It were a tryin thing, though," he went on, his 88 "TWIGGS AND TUDENS" mellow features settling into a look not at all in keep ing with his shiny complexion, "it were a tryin thing, and it air a tryin thing to see them lovely arms o hern a-twinin so lovin -like around that ere Stanley s neck and a-kissin of him as she s obleeged to do, of course- as the properties of the play demands ; but I m blowed if she wouldn t do it quite so nat ral-like I d feel easier. Blow me! " he broke off savagely, starting up and fling ing his pipe in the ashes, "I m about a-comin to the conclusion I aint got no more courage n a blasted school boy! Here I am old enough to be her father mighty nigh it and yet I m actually afear d to speak up and tell her jest how things is, and all, and how I feel like I like I ort o ort o " "Ortokindo! Ortokindo!" shrieked the parrot, clinging in a reversed position to the under-round of a chair. "Ortokindo! Ortokindo! Tude s come home! Tude s come home ! " And as though in happy proof of this latter assertion, the gentle Mr. Twiggs found his chubby neck encircled by a pair of rosy arms, and felt upon his cheek the sudden pressure of a pair of lips that thrilled his old heart to the core. And then the noisy bird dropped from his perch and marched pompously from its place of concealment, trailing its rusty wings and shrieking, "Tude s come home!" at the top of its brazen voice. " Shet up ! " screamed Mr. Twiggs, with a pretended "TWIGGS AND TUDENS" 89 gust of rage, kicking lamely at the feathered oracle; "I ll Tude s-come-home ye! W y, a feller can t hear his ears for your infernal squawkin ! " And then, turn ing toward the serious eyes that peered rebukingly into his own, his voice fell gentle as a woman s : " Well, there, Tudens, I beg parding ; I do indeed. Don t look at me thataway. I know I m a great, rough, good-for " But a warm, swift kiss cut short the utterance ; and, as the girl drew back, still holding the bright old face be tween her tender palms, he said simply, " You re a queer girl, Tudens; a queer girl." "Ha! am I?" said the girl, in quite evident heroics and quotation, starting back with a theatrical flourish and falling into a fantastic attitude. " Troth, I am sorry for it ; me poor father s heart is bursting with gratichude, and he would fain ease it by pouring out his thanks to his benefactor. " "Werry good! Werry good, indeed!" said Mr. Twiggs, gazing wistfully upon the graceful figure of the girl. "You re a-growin* more wonderful clever in your presence every day, Tude. You don t think o* nothink else but your actin, do ye now?" And, as Mr. Twiggs concluded this observation, a something very like a sigh came faltering from his lips. "Why, listen there! Ah-ha! " laughed Tude, clapping her hands and dancing gaily around his chair. " Why, you old melancholy Dane, you! are you actually sigh ing?" Then, dropping into a tragic air of deep con- 90 "TWIGGS AND TUDENS" trition, she continued : But, believe me, I would not question you, but to console you, Wilford. I would scorn to pry into any one s grief, much more yours, Wilford, to satisfy a busy curiosity. " "Oh, don t Tude; don t rehearse like that at me! I can t a-bear it." And the serious Mr. Twiggs held out his hand as though warding off a blow. At this ap peal the girl s demeanor changed to one of tenderest solicitude. " Why, Pop m," she said, laying her hand on his shoulder, "I did not mean to vex you forgive me. I was only trying to be happy, as I ought, although my own heart is this very minute heavy very heavy very. No, no; I don t mean that but, Father, Father, I have not been dutiful." " W y, yes you have," broke in Mr. Twiggs, smother ing the heavy exclamation in his handkerchief. "You ain t been ondutiful, nor nothink else. You re jest all and everythink that heart could wish. It s all my own fault, Tudens; it s all my fault. You see, I git to thinkin sometimes like I was a-goin to lose you ; and now that you are a-comin on in years, and gittin such a fine start, and all, and position and everythink. Yes sir! position, cause everybody likes you, Tudens. You know that; and I m that proud of you and all, and that selfish, that it s onpossible I could ever, ever give you up ; never, never, ever give you up ! " And Mr. Twiggs TWIGGS AND TUDENS " 91 again stifled his voice in his handkerchief and blew his nose with prolonged violence. It may have been the melancholy ticking of the clock, as it grated on the silence following, it may have been the gathering darkness of the room, or the plaintive sighing of the rising wind without, that caused the girl to shudder as she stooped to kiss the kind old face bent forward in the shadows, and turned with feigned gayety to the simple task of arranging supper. But when, a few minutes later, she announced that Twiggs and Tudens tea was waiting, the two smilingly sat down, Mr. Twiggs remarking, that if he only knew a blessing, he d ask it upon that occasion most certainly. "For only look at these- ere am and eggs," he said, admiringly: "I d like to know if the Queen herself could cook em to a nicer turn, or serve em up more tantalizin er to the palate. And this- ere soup, or what ever it is, is rich as gravy; and these boughten rolls ain t a bad thing either, split in two and toasted as you do em, air they, Tude?" And as Mr. Twiggs glanced inquir ingly at his companion, he found her staring vacantly at her plate. " I was jest a-sayin , Tudens" he went on, pretending to blow his tea and glancing cautiously across his saucer. " Yes, Pop m, I heard you ; we really ought to have a blessing, by all means." Mr. Twiggs put down his tea without tasting it 92 "TWIGGS AND TUDENS" "Tudens," he said, after a long pause, in which he carefully buttered a piece of toast for the second time, "Tudens, I m most afeared you didn t grasp that last remark of mine: I was a-sayin " " Well "said Tudens, attentively. " I was a-sayin ," said Mr. Twiggs, averting his face and staring stoically at his toast ; " I was a-sayin that you was a-gittin now to be quite a young woman." " Oh, so you were," said Tudens, with charming naivete. "Well," said Mr. Twiggs, repentantly, but with a humorous twinkle, " if I wasn t a-sayin of it, I was a-thinkm it." And then, running along hurriedly, "and I ve been a-thinkin it for days and days ever sence you left the bailey and went in chambermaids, and last in leadin roles. Maybe you ain t noticed it, but I ve had my eyes on you from the flies and the wings; and jest betwixt us, Tudens, and not for me as ort to know better, and does know better, to go a- flatterin , at my time o or to go a-flatterin anybody, as I said, after you re a-gittin to be a young woman and what s more, a werry andsome young woman ! " " Why, Pop m! " exclaimed Tudens, blushing. " Yes you are, Tudens, and I mean it, every word of it; and as I was a-goin on to say, I ve been a-watchin of you, and a-layin off a long time jest to tell you summat that will make your eyes open wider an thatl What "TWIGGS AKD TUDENS" 93 I mean," said Mr. Twiggs, coughing vehemently and pushing his chair back from the table, "what I mean is, you ll soon be old enough to be a-settin up for your- self-like, and marry W y, Tudens, what ails you ? " The girl had risen to her feet, and, with a face dead white and lips all tremulous, stood clinging to her chair for sup port. " What ails you, Tudens ? " repeated Mr. Twiggs, lifting to his feet and gazing on her with a curious expression of alarm and tenderness. " Nothing serious, dear Pop m," said Tudens, with a flighty little laugh, "only it just flashed on me all at once that I d clear forgotten poor Dick s supper." And as she turned abruptly to the parrot, cooing and clucking to him playfully, up, up from some hitherto undreamed of depth within the yearning heart of Mr. Twiggs mutely welled the old utterance, " Tude s a queer girl ! " "Whatever made you think of such a thing, Father? " called Tudens, gaily ; and then, without waiting for an answer, went on cooing to the parrot, " Hey, old Dickey-bird ! do you think Tudens is a handsome young woman? and do you think Tudens is old enough to marry, eh ? " This query delivered, she broke into a fit of merriment which so wrought upon the susceptibili ties of the bird that he was heard to repeatedly declare and affirm, in most positive and unequivocal terms, that Tude had actually come home. "Yes sir, Tudens!" broke in Mr. Twiggs at last, 94 "TWIGGS AND TUDENS" ( " lighting a fresh churchwarden and settling into his old position at the grate ; " have your laugh out over it now, but if s a werry serious fact, for all that." " I know it, Father," said the girl, recovering her gravity, turning her large eyes lovingly upon him and speaking very tenderly. "I know it oh, I know it; and many, many times when I have thought of it, and then again of your old kindly faith ; all the warm wealth of your love; and our old home here, and all the happi ness it ever held for me and you alike oh, I have tried hard indeed, indeed I have to put all other thought away and live for you alone ! But Pop m ! dear old Pop m " And even as the great strong breast made shelter for her own, the woman s heart within her flowed away in mists of gracious tears. "Couldn t live without old Pop m, could her?" half cried and laughed the happy Mr. Twiggs, tangling his clumsy fingers in the long dark hair that fell across his arm, and bending till his glad face touched her own. "Couldn t live without old Pop m?" "Never! never!" sobbed the girl, lifting her brim ming eyes and gazing in the kind old face. " Oh, may I always live with you, Pop m? Always? Forever ?"- " And a day!" said Mr. Twiggs, emphatically. "Even after I m JJ and she hid her face again. "Even after what, Tudens?" "TWIGGS AND TUDENS" 95 " After I m after I m married?" murmured Tudens, with a longing pressure. "Nothink short!" said Mr. Twiggs ; "perwidin ," he added, releasing one hand and smoothing back his scanty hair "perwidin , of course, that your man is a honest, straitforrerd feller, as aint no lordly notions nor nothink o that sort." "Nor rich?" "Well, I aint so p ticklar about his bein pore, ad- zackly. Say a feller as works for his livin , and knows how to usband his earnin s thrifty-like, and allus as a hextry crown or two laid up against a rainy day and a good perwider, of course," said Mr. Twiggs, with a comfortable glance around the room. " 11 blow me if I didn t see a face there a-peerin in the winder!" " Oh, no you didn t," said the girl, without raising her head. "Go on and a good provider " " A good perwider," continued Mr. Twiggs; "and a feller, of course, as has a eye out for the substantials of this life, and aint afeard o work that s the idear ! that s the idear!" said Mr. Twiggs by way of sweeping con clusion. "And that s all old Pop m asks, after all?" queried the girl, with her radiant face yearning in his own. " W y, certainly ! " said Mr. Twiggs, with heartiness. Aint that all and everythink to make home happy? * " 96 "TWIGGS AND TUDENS" catching her face between his great brown hands and kissing her triumphantly. "Hooray for Twiggs-and Twiggs-and Twiggs-and " cootered the drowsy bird, disjointedly. The girl had risen. "And you ll forgive me for mar rying such a man?" "Won t I?" said Mr. Twiggs, with a rapturous twinkle. As he spoke, she flung her arms about his neck and pressed her lips close, close against his cheek, her own glad face now fronting the little window. She heard the clicking of the latch, the opening of the door, and the step of the intruder ere she loosed her hold. "God bless you, Pop m, and forgive me! This is my husband." The new comer, Mr. Stanley, reached and grasped the hand of Mr. Twiggs, eagerly, fervidly, albeit the face he looked on then will haunt him to the hour of his death. Yet haply, some day, v/hen the Master takes the self-same hand within his own and whispers " Tude s come home," the old smile will return. AN IDYL OF THE KING 97 AN IDYL OF THE KING Erewhile, as Autumn, to King Arthur s court Came Raelus, clamouring : " Lo, has our house Been sacked and pillaged by a lawless band Of robber knaves, led on by Alstanes, The Night-Flower named, because of her fair face, All like a lily gleaming in the dusk Of her dark hair and like a lily brimmed With dewy eyes that drip their limpid smiles Like poison out, for by them has been wro t My elder brother s doom, as much 7 fear. While three days gone was holden harvest-feast At Lynion castle clinging like a gull High up the gray cliffs of Caerleon Came, leaf-like lifted from the plain below As by a twisted wind, a rustling pack Of bandit pillagers, with Alstanes Bright-fluttering like a red leaf in the front. And ere we were aware of fell intent Not knowing whether it was friend or foe We found us in their toils, and all the house In place of guests held only prisoners- Save that the host, my brother, wro t upon By the strange beauty of the robber queen, 98 AN IDYL OF THE KING Was left unfettered, but by silken threads Of fine-spun flatteries and wanton smiles Of the enchantress, till her villain thieves Had rifled as they willed and signal given To get to horse again. And so they went Their leader flinging backward, as she rode, A kiss to my mad brother mad since then, For from that sorry hour he but talked Of Alstane"s, and her rare beauty, and Her purity aye, even that he said Was star-white, and should light his life with love Or leave him groping blindly in its quest Thro all eternity. So, sighing, he Went wandering about till set of sun, Then got to horse, and bade us all farewell; And with his glamoured eyes bent trancedly Upon the tumbled sands that marked the way The robber-woman went, he turned and chased His long black shadow o er the edge of night." So Raelus, all seemingly befret With such concern as nipped his utterance !n scraps of speech : at which Sir Lancelot, Lifting a slow smile to the King, and then Turning his cool eye on the youth "And you Would track this siren-robber to her hold And rout her rascal followers, and free AN IDYL OF THE KING 99 Your brother from the meshes of this queen Of hearts for there you doubtless think him?" "Ay!" Foamed Raelus, cheek flushed and eye aflame, "So even have I tracked, and found them, too, And know their burrow, shrouded in a copse, Where, faring in my brother s quest, I heard The nicker of his horse, and followed on And found him tethered in a thicket wild, As tangled in its tress of leaf and limb As is a madman s hair ; and down the path That parted it and ran across a knoll And dipped again, all suddenly I came Upon a cave, wide-yawning neath a beard Of tangled moss and vine, whence issuing I heard, blown o er my senses faint and clear As whiffs of summer wind, my brother s voice Lilting a love-song, with the burden tricked With dainty warblings of a woman s tongue: And even as I listening bent, I heard Such peals of wanton merriment as made My own heart flutter as a bird that beats For freedom at the bars that prison it. So turned I then, and fled as one who flies To save himself alone forgetful all Of that my dearer self my brother. O ! " Breaking as sharply as the icy blade loo AN IDYL OF THE KING That loosens from the eave to slice the air And splinteT into scales of flying frost " Thy help ! Thy help ! A dozen goodly knights Aye, even that, if so it be their hearts Are hungry as my own to right the wrong ! " So Raelus. And Arthur graciously Gave ear to him, and, patient, heard him thro , And pitied him, and granted all he asked; Then took his hand and held it, saying, "Strong, And ever stronger may its grasp be knit About the sword that flashes in the cause Of good." Thus Raelus, on the morrow s front, Trapped like a knight and shining like a star, Pranced from the archway of the court, and led His glittering lances down the gleaming road That river-like ran winding till it slipped Out of the palace view and spilled their shields Like twinkling bubbles o er the mountain brim. Then happed it that as Raelus rode, his tongue Kept even pace and cantered ever on Right merrily. His brother, as he said, Had such an idle soul within his breast Such shallowness of fancy for his heart To drift about in that he well believed Its anchor would lay hold on any smile OF THE UNIVERSITY AN IDYL OF THE KING 101 The lees of womanhood might offer him. As for himself, he loved his brother well, Yet had far liefer see him stark and white In marble death than that his veins should burn With such vitality as spent its flame So garishly it knew no steady blaze, But ever wavered round as veered the wind Of his conceit; for he had made his boast Tho to his own shame did he speak of it That with a wink he could buy every smile That virtue owned. So tattled Raelus Till, heated with his theme, he lifted voice And sang the song, "The Light of Woman s Eyes!" "O bright is gleaming morn on mountain hight; And bright the moon, slipt from its sheath of night, But brighter is the light of woman s eyes. "And bright the dewdrop, trembling on the lip Of some red rose, or lily petal-tip, Or lash of pink, but brighter woman s eyes. " Bright is the firefly s ever drifting spark That throbs its pulse of light out in the dark ; And bright the stars, but brighter woman s eyes. 102 AN IDYL OF THE KING " Bright morn or even ; bright or moon or star, And all the many twinkling lights that are, O brighter than ye all are woman s eyes." So Raelus sang. And they who rode with him Bewildered were, and even as he sang Went straggling, twos and threes, and fell behind To whisper wonderingly, "Is he a fool?" And "Does he waver in his mind?" and "Does The newness of adventure dazzle him?" So spake they each to each, till far beyond, With but one lothful knight in company, They saw him quit the beaten track, and turn Into the grassy margin of a wood. And loitering, they fell in mocking jest Of their strange leader! "See! why, seel" said one, "He needs no help to fight his hornets nest, But one brave knight to squire him ! "pointing on To where fared on the two and disappeared. "O ay!" said one, "belike he is some old War-battered knight of long-forgotten age, That, bursting from his chrysalis, the grave, Comes back to show us tricks we never dreamed ! " "Or haply," said another, with a laugh, " He rides ahead to tell them that he comes, And shrive them ere his courage catches up." And merry made they all, and each in turn AN IDYL OF THE KING 103 Fillipped a witty pellet at his head : Until, at last, their shadows shrunk away And shortened neath them and the hour was noon, They flung them from their horses listlessly Within the grassy margin of the wood Where had passed Raelus an hour agone: And, hungered, spied a rustic ; and they sent To have them such refreshment as might be Found at the nearest farm, where, as it chanced, Was had most wholesome meat, and milk, and bread; And honey, too, celled in its fretted vase Of gummy gold, and dripping nectar-sweet As dreamed-of kisses from the lips of love; Wine, too, was broughten, rosy as the dawn That ushers in the morning of the heart; And tawny, mellow pear, whose golden ore Fell molten on the tongue and oozed away In creamy and delicious nothingness; And netted melon, musky as the breath Of breezes blown from out the Orient; And purple clusterings of plum and grape, Blurred with a dust dissolving at the touch Like flakes the fairies had snowed over them. And as the idlers basked, with toast and song And graceful dalliance and wanton jest, A sound of trampling hooves and jingling reins Brake sudden, stilled them ; and from out a dim 104 AN IDYL OF THE KING Path leading from the bosky wood there came A troop of mounted damsels, nigh a score, Led by a queenly girl, in crimson clad, With lissome figure lithe and willowy, And face as fair and sweet and pure withal As might a maiden lily-blossom be Ere it has learned the sin of perfect bloom!: Her hair, blown backward like a silken scarf And fondled by the sun, was glossier And bluer black than any raven s wing. " And O ! " she laughed, not knowing she was heard By any but her fellows: "Men are fools!" Then drawing rein, and wheeling suddenly, Her charger mincing backward," Raelus^ My Raelus is greater than ye all, Since he is such a fool that he forgets He is a man, and lets his tongue of love Run babbling like a silly child s; and, pah! I puff him to the winds like thistle-down ! " And, wheeling as she spake, found staring up, Wide-eyed and wondering, a group of knights, Half lifted, as their elbows propped their heads, Half lying ; and one, smirker than the rest, Stood bowing very low, with upturned eyes Lit with a twinkling smile : " Fair lady and Most gracious gentlewomen" seeing that The others drew them back as tho* abashed AN IDYL OF THE KING 105 And veiled their faces with all modesty, Tho she, their leader, showed not any qualm, " Since all unwittingly we overheard Your latest speech, and since we know at last All men are fools, right glad indeed am I That such a nest of us remains for you To vanquish with those eyes." Then, serious, That she nor smiled nor winced, nor anything " Your pardon will be to me as a shower Of gracious rain unto a panting drouth." So bowed in humblest reverence; at which The damsel, turning to her followers, Laughed musically," See ! he proves my words ! " Whereat the others joined with inward glee Her pealing mirth ; and in the merriment The knights chimed too, and he, the vanquished one, Till all the wood rang as at hunting-tide When bugle-rumors float about the air And echoes leap and revel in delight. Then spake the vanquished knight, with mental eye Sweeping the vantage-ground that chance had gained, " Your further pardon, lady : Since the name Of Raelus fell from those lips of thine, We fain would know of him. He led us here, And as he went the way from whence your path lo6 AX IDYL OF THE KING Emerges, haply you may tell us where He may be found?" "What! Raelus?" she cried,- " He comes with you? The brave Sir Raelus? That mighty champion? that gallant knight? That peerless wonder of all nobleness? Then proud am I to greet ye, knowing that; And, certes, had I known of it ere now, Then had I proffered you more courtesy, And told you, ere the asking, that he bides The coming of his friends a league from this, Hard by a reedy mere, where in high tune We left him singing, nigh an hour agone." Then, as she lightly wheeled her horse about And signal gave to her companions To follow, gaily cried : " Tell Raelus His cousin sends to him her sad farewells And fond regrets, and kisses many as His valorous deeds are numbered in her heart." And with " Fair morrow to ye, gentle knights ! " Her steed s hooves struck the highway at a bound ; And dimly thro the dust they saw her lead Her fluttering cavalcade as recklessly As might a queen of Araby, fleet-horsed, Skim o er the level sands of Syria. So vanished. And the knights with one accord Put foot in stirrup, and with puzzled minds AN IDYL OH THE KING 107 And many-channeled marvelings, filed in The woody path, and fared them on and on Thro denser glooms, and ways more intricate; Till, mystified at last and wholly lost, They made full halt, and would have turned them back But that a sudden voice brake on their ears All piteous and wailing, as distressed : And, following these cries, they sharply came Upon an open road that circled round A reedy flat and sodden tract of sedge, Moated with stagnant water, crusted thick With slimy moss, wherein were wriggling things Entangled, and blind bubbles bulging up And bursting where from middle way upshot A tree-trunk, with its knarled and warty hands As tho upheld to clutch at sliding snakes Or nip the wet wings of the dragonfly. Here gazing, lo ! they saw their comrade, he That had gone on with Raelus; and he Was tugging to fling back into its place A heavy log that once had spanned the pool And made a footway to the sedgy flat Whence came the bitter wailing cries they heard. Then hastened they to join him in his t^sk: But, panting, as they asked of Raelus, All winded with his work, yet jollier io8 AX IDYL OF THE KING Than meadow-lark at morn, he sent his voice In such a twittering of merriment, The wail of sorrow died and laughter strewed Its grave with melody. "O Raelus! Rare Raelus ! " he cried and clapped his hands, And even in the weeds that edged the pool Fell wrestling with his mirth. " Why, Raelus," He said, when he at last could speak again, " Drew magnet-like you know that talk of his, And so, adhesive, did I cling and cling Until I found us in your far advance, And, hidden in the wood, I stayed to say Twas better we should bide your coming. No. Then on again ; and still a second time 5 Shall we not bide their coming? No! he said; And on again, until the third ; and No We ll push a little further. As we did ; And, sudden, came upon an open glade There to the northward, by a thicket bound : Then he dismounted, giving me his rein, And, charging me to keep myself concealed, And if he were not back a certain time To ride for you and search where he had gone, He crossed the opening and passed from sight Within the thicket. I was curious : And so, dismounting, tethered our two steeds AN IDYL OF THE KING 109 And followed him ; and, creeping warily, Came on him where unseen of him I saw Him pause before the cave himself described Before us yester-noon. And here he put His fingers to his lips and gave a call Bird-like and quavering : at which a face, As radiant as summer sun at morn, Parted the viny courtains of the cave; And then, a moment later, came in view, A woman even fairer than my sight Might understand. What! dare you come again? As, lifting up her eyes all flashingly, She scorched him with a look of hate. 4 Begone ! Or have you traitor, villain, knave and cur, Bro t minions of the law to carry out The vengeance of your whimpering jealousy?* Then Raelus, all cowering before Her queenly anger, faltered : Hear me yet ; I do not threaten. But your love your love! O give me that. I know you pure as dew: Your love! Your love! The smile that has gone out And left my soul a midnight of despair I Your love or life! For I have even now Your stronghold girt about with certain doom If you but waver in your choice. Your love! At which, as quick as tho t, leapt on him there Iio AN IDYL OF THE KING A strong man from the covert of the gloom; And others, like to him, from here and there Came skurrying. I, turning, would have fled, But found myself as suddenly beset And tied and tumbled there with Raelus. And him they haltered by his squirming heels Until he did confess such villainy As made me wonder if his wits were sound Confessed himself a renegade a thief Aye, even one of them, save that he knew Not that nice honour even thieves may claim Among themselves. And so ran on thro* such A catalogue of littlenesses, I For deafest shame had even stopped my ears But that my wrists were lockt. And when he came To his confession of his lie at court, By which was gained our knightly sympathy And valiant service on this fools crusade, I seemed to feel the redness of my blush Soak thro my very soul. There I brake in : " Fair lady and most gallant, to my shame Do I admit we have been duped by such An ingrate as this bundled lump of flesh That I am helpless to rise up and spurn : Unbind me, and I promise such amends As knightly hands may deign to wreak upon A tiling so vile as he. Then, laughing, she : AN IDYL OF THE KING in * First tell me, by your honor, where await Your knightly brothers and my enemies. To which I answered, truthfully, I knew Not where you lingered, but not close at hand I was assured. Then all abrupt, she turned : * Get every one within ! We ride at once ! And scarce a dozen minutes ere they came Out-pouring from the cave in such a guise As made me smile from very wonderment. From head to heel in woman s dress they came, Clad richly, too, and trapped and tricked withal As maidenly, but in the face and hand, As ever damsels flock at holiday. Then were their chargers bro t, caparisoned In keeping ; and they mounted, lifting us, Still bounden, with- much jest and mockery Of soft caress and wanton blandishments, As tho they were of sex their dress declared. And so they carried us until they came Upon the road there as it nicks the copse; And so drew rein, dismounted, leaving some To guard their horses ; hurried us across This footway to the middle of the flat. Here Raelus was bounden to a tree, Stript to the waist; my fetters cut, A long, keen switch put in my hand, and * Strike 1 Strike as all duty bids you I said the queen. 112 /tN IDYL OF THE KING And so I did, with right good will at first ; Till, softened as I heard the wretch s prayers Of anguish, I at last withheld my hand. What! tiring? chirpt the queen: Give me th$ stick! And swish, and swish, and mercy how it rained ! Then all the others, forming circlewise, Danced round and round the howling wretch, and jeered And japed at him, and mocked and scoffed at him, And spat upon him. And I turned away And hid my face; then raised it pleadingly: Nor would they listen my appeal for him ; But left him so, and thonged and took me back Across the mere, and drew the bridge, that none Might go to him, and carried me with them Far on their way, and freed me once again ; And back I turned, tho loth, to succor him." And even as he ceased they heard the wail Break out anew, and crossed without a word, And Raelus they found, and without word They loosed him. And he brake away and ran As runs a lie the truth is hard upon. Thus did it fare with Raelus. And they Who knew of it said naught at court of it; Nor from that day spake ever of him once, Nor heard of him again, nor cared to hear. DOLORES 113 DOLORES LITHE-ARMED, and with satin-soft shoulders As white as the cream-crested wave; With a gaze dazing every beholder s, She holds every gazer a slave : Her hair, a fair haze, is outfloated And flared in the air like a flame ; Bare-breasted, bare-browed and bare- throated Too smooth for the soothliest name. She wiles you with wine, and wrings for you Ripe juices of citron and grape ; She lifts up her lute and sings for you Till the soul of you seeks no escape; And you revel and reel with mad laughter. And fall at her feet, at her beck, And the scar of her sandal thereafter You wear like a gyve round your neck. H4 IV HEN I DO MOCK WHEN I DO MOCK WHEN I do mock the blackness of the night With my despair outweep the very dews And wash my wan cheeks stark of all delight, Denying every counsel of dear use In mine embittered state; with infinite Perversity, mine eyes drink in no sight Of pleasance that nor moon nor stars refuse In silver largess and gold twinklings bright; I question me what mannered brain is mine That it doth trick me of the very food It panteth for the very meat and wine That yet should plump my starved soul with good And comfortable plethora of ease, That I might drowse away such rhymes as these. MY MARY IIS MY MARY MY Mary, O my Mary! The simmer-skies are blue: The dawnin* brings the dazzle, An* the gloamin brings the dew, The mirk o nicht the glory O the moon, an kindles, too, The stars that shift aboon the lift. But nae thing brings me youl Where is it, O my Mary, Ye are biding a* the while? I ha* wended by your window I ha waited by the stile, An* up an* down the river I ha won for mony a mile, Yet never found, adrift or drown d, Your lang-belated smile. Is it forgot, my Mary, How glad we used to be? The simmer-time when bonny bloomed The auld try sting-tree, How there I carved the name for you, An* you the name for me; An the gloamin kenned it only When we kissed sae tenderly. MY MARY Speek ance to me, my Mary! But whisper in my ear As light as ony sleeper s breath, An* a my soul will hear; My heart shall stap its beating, An* the soughing atmosphere Be hushed the while I leaning smile An* listen to you, dear! My Mary, O my Mary! The blossoms bring the bees; The sunshine brings the blossoms, An* the leaves on a the trees? The simmer brings the sunshine An the fragrance o the breeze, But O wi out you, Mary s I care nae thing for these! We were sae happy, Mary! O think how ance we said- Wad ane o* us gae fickle, Or ane o us lie dead, To feel anither s kisses We wad feign the auld instead, An* ken the ither s footsteps In the green grass owerhead. MY MARY 117 My Mary, O my Mary! Are ye dochter o the air, That ye vanish aye before me As I follow everywhere? Or is it ye are only But a mortal, wan wi* care? Syne I search through a* the kirkyird An I dinna find ye there. EROS THE storm of love has burst at last Full on me: All the world, before. Was like an alien, unkno-jcn shore Along whose verge I laughing passed.- But now / laugh not any more, Bowed with a silence vast in weight As that which falls on one who stands For the first time on ocean sands. Seeing and feeling alt the great Awe of the waves as they wash the lands And billow and wallow and undulate. (118) ORLIE WILDE A GODDESS, with a siren s grace, A sun- bailed girl on a craggy place Above a bay where fish-boats lay Drifting about like birds of prey. Wrought was she of a painter s dream,- Wise only as are artists wise, My artist-friend, Rolf Herschkelhiem, With deep sad eyes of oversize, And face of melancholy guise. I pressed him that he tell to me This masterpiece s history. He turned returned and thus beguiled Me with the tale of Orlie Wilde: "We artists live ideally: We breed our firmest facts of air; We make our own reality We dream a thing and it is so. The fairest scenes we ever see Are mirages of memory; 120 ORLIE WILDE The sweetest thoughts we ever know We plagiarize from Long-ago: And as the girl on canvas there Is marvelously rare and fair, ; Tis only inasmuch as she Is dumb and may not speak to me ! " He tapped me with his mahlstick then The picture, and went on again : "Orlie Wilde, the fisher s child ! see her yet, as fair and mild As ever nursling summer-day Dreamed on the bosom of the bay: For I was twenty then, and went Alone and long-hairedall content With promises of sounding name And fantasies of future fame, And thoughts that now my mind discards As editor a fledgling bard s. u At evening once I chanced to go, With pencil and portfolio, Adown the street of silver sand That winds beneath this craggy land, To make a sketch of some old scurf Of driftage, nosing through the surf A splintered mast, with knarl and strand ORLIE WILDE 121 Of rigging-rope and tattered threads Of flag and streamer and of sail That fluttered idly in the gale Or whipped themselves to sadder shreds. The while I wrought, half listlessly, On my dismantled subject, came A sea-bird, settling on the same With plaintive moan, as though that he Had lost his mate upon the sea; And with my melancholy trend It brought dim dreams half understood It wrought upon my morbid mood, I thought of my own voyagings That had no end that have no end. And, like the sea-bird, I made moan That I was loveless and alone. And when at last with weary wings It went upon its wanderings, With upturned face I watched its flight Until this picture met my sight: A goddess, with a siren s grace, A sun-haired girl on a craggy place Above a bay where fish-boats lay Drifting about like birds of prey. "In airy poise she, gazing, stood A matchless form of womanhood, 122 ORLIE WILDE That brought a thought that if for me Such eyes had sought across the sea, I could have swam the widest tide That ever mariner defied, And, at the shore, could on have gone To that high crag she stood upon, To there entreat and say My Sweet, Behold thy servant at thy feet. And to my soul I said: Above, There stands the idol of thy love \ "In this rapt, awed, ecstatic state I gazed till lo! I was aware A fisherman had joined her there A weary man, with halting gait, Who toiled beneath a basket s weight: Her father, as I guessed, for she Had run to meet him gleefully And ta en his burden to herself, That perched upon her shoulder s shc f So lightly that she, tripping, neared A jutting crag and disappeared; But left the echo of a song That thrills me yet, and will as long As I have being ! " Evenings came And went, -but each the same the same; ORLIE WILDE 123 She watched above, and even so I stood there watching from below; Till, grown so bold at last, I sung,- (What matter now the theme thereof!) It brought an answer from her tongue- Faint as the murmur of a dove, Yet all the more the song of love .... "I turned and looked upon the bay, With palm to forehead eyes a-blur In the sea s smile meant but for her 1 \ saw the fish-boats far away In misty distance, lightly drawn In chalk-dots on the horizon Looked back at her, long, wistfully, And, pushing off an empty skiff, I beckoned her to quit the cliff And yield me her rare company Upon a little pleasure cruise. She stood, as lothful to refuse- To muse for full a moment s time. Then answered back in pantomime She feared some danger from the sea Were she discovered thus with me." I motioned then to ask her if 1 might not join her on the cliff; And back again, with graceful wave 124 ORLIE WILDE Of lifted arm, she answer gave 1 She feared some danger from the sea. "Impatient, piqued, impetuous, I Sprang in the boat, and flung Good-bye 1 From pouted mouth with angry hand, And madly pulled away from land With lusty stroke, despite that she Held out her hands entreatingly : And when far out, with covert eye I shoreward glanced, I saw her fly In reckless haste adown the crag, Her hair a-flutter like a flag Of gold that danced across the strand In little mists of silver sand. All curious I, pausing, tried To fancy what it all implied, When suddenly I found my feet Were wet; and, underneath the seat On which I sat, I heard the sound Of gurgling waters, and I found The boat aleak alarmingly I turned and looked upon the sea, Whose every wave seemed mocking me; I saw the fishers sails once more In dimmer distance than before; I saw the sea-bird wheeling by, ORLIE WILDE 125 With foolish wish that / could fly: I thought of firm earth, home and friends I thought of everything that tends To drive a man to frenzy and To wholly lose his own command; I thought of all my waywardness- Thought of a mother s deep distress ; Of youthful follies yet unpurged Sins, as the seas, about me surged Thought of the printer s ready pen Tomorrow drowning me again ; A million things without a name I thought of everything but Fame. . . . "A memory yet is in my mind, So keenly clear and sharp-defined, I picture every phase and line Of life and death, and neither mine, While some fair seraph, golden-haired, Bends over me, with white arms bared, That strongly plait themselves about My drowning weight and lift me out With joy too great for words to state Or tongue to dare articulate ! "And this seraphic ocean-child And heroine was Orlie Wilde: And thus it was I came to hear 126 ORLIE WILDE Her voice s music in my ear Aye, thus it was Fate paved the way That I walk desolate today!" The artist paused and bowed his face Within his palms a little space, While reverently on his form \ bent my gaze and marked a storm That shook his frame as wrathfully As some typhoon of agony, And fraught with sobs the more profound For that peculiar laughing sound We hear when strong men weep 1 lent With warmest sympathy I bent To stroke with soothing hand his brow, He murmuring "Tis over now! And shall I tie the silken thread Of my frail romance?" "Yes," 1 said. He faintly smiled ; and then, with brow In kneading palm, as one in dread His tasseled cap pushed from his head; " Her voice s music, 1 I repeat," He said, " twas sweet O passing sweet !- Though she herself, in uttering Its melody, proved not the thing Of loveliness my dreams made meet For me there, yearning, at her feet ORLIE WILDE 127 Prone at her feet a worshiper, For lo ! she spake a tongue," moaned he, "Unknown to me; unknown to me As mine to her as mine to her." 128 LEON A IN IE LEONAINIE LEONAINIE Angels named her; And they took the light Of the laughing stars and framed her In a smile of white; And they made her hair of gloomy Midnight, and her eyes of bloomy Moonshine, and they brought her to me In the solemn night In a solemn night of summer, When my heart of gloom Blossomed up to greet the comer Like a rose in bloom ; All forebodings that distressed me I forgot as Joy caressed me {Lying Joy ! that caught and pressed me In the arms of doom !) Only spake the little lisper In the Angel-tongue; Yet I, listening, heard her whisper "Songs are only sung Here below that they may grieve you Tales but told you to deceive you, So must Leonainie leave you While her love is young.* 1 LEON4INIE 129 Then God smiled and it was morning. Matchless and supreme , Heaven s glory seemed adorning Earth with its esteem : Every heart but mine seemed gifted With the voice of prayer, and lifted Where my Leonainie drifted From me like a dream. 130 TO A JILTED SWAM TO A JILTED SWAIN GET thee back neglected friends; And repay, as each one lends, Tithes of shallow-sounding glee Or keen-ringing raillery: Get thee from lone vigils ; be But in jocund company, Where is laughter and acclaim Boisterous above the name. Get where sulking husbands sip Alehouse cheer, with pipe at lip; And where Mol the barmaid saith Curst is she that marry eth. THE VOICES 131 THE VOICES DOWN in the night I hear them : The Voices unknown unguessed, That whisper, and lisp, and murmur, And will not let me rest. Voices that seem to question, In unknown words, of me, Of fabulous ventures, and hopes and dreams Of this and the World to be. Voices of mirth and music, As in sumptuous homes ; and sounds Of mourning, as of gathering friends In country burial-grounds. Cadence of maiden voices Their lovers blent with these; And of little children singing, As under orchard trees. And often, up from the chaos Of my deepest dreams, I hear Sounds of their phantom laughter Filling the atmosphere: THE VOICES They call to me from the darkness ; They cry to me from the gloom, Till I start sometimes from my pillow And peer through the haunted room ; When the face of the moon at the window Wears a pallor like my own, And seems to be listening with me To the low, mysterious tone, The low, mysterious clamor Of voices that seem to be Striving in vain to whisper Of secret things to me ; Of a something dread to be warned of; Of a rapture yet withheld ; Or hints of the marvelous beauty Of songs unsyllabled. But ever and ever the meaning Falters and fails and dies, And only the silence quavers With the sorrow of my sighs. THE VOICES 133 And I answer: O Voices, ye may not Make me to understand Till my own voice, mingling with you, Laughs in the Shadow-land. A BAREFOOT BOY A BAREFOOT BOY I I mark him at his play- - For May is here once more, and so is he,- His dusty trousers, rolled half to the knee, And his bare ankles grimy, too, as they: Cross-hatchings of the nettle, in array Of feverish stripes, hint vividly to me Of -woody pathways winding endlessly Along the creek, where w.i yesterday He plunged his shrinking body gasped and shook Yet called the water "warm," with never lack Of joy. And so, half vmously I look Upon this graceless I refoot and his track, His toe stubbed aye, his big toe-nail knocked back Like unto tbe clmp of an old pocket-book. THE YOUTHFUL PATRIOT O WHAT did the little boy do 5 At nobody wanted him to? Didn t do nothin but romp an* run, An 1 whoop an holler an 1 bang his gun An* bust fire-crackers, an ist have fun An 1 at s all the little boy done! I3<5 PONCHUS PILUT PONCHUS PILUT PONCHUS PILUT used to be 1st a Slave, an* now he s free. Slaves wuz on y ist before The War wuz an ain t no more. He works on our place fer us, An* comes here sometimes he does. He shocks corn an* shucks it An 1 He makes hominy " by han ! " Wunst he bringed us some, one trip, Tied up in a piller-slip: Pa says, when Ma cooked it, "MY I This-here s gooder n you Ponchus pats fer me an* sings ; An* he says most funny things ! Ponchus calls a dish a "deesh" Yes, an he calls fishes "feesk"l When Ma want him eat wiv us He says, " Skuse me deed you mus* ! Ponchus know good manners, Miss. He aint eat wher White-folks is!" PONCHUS PILUT 137 Lindy takes his dinner out Wher he s workin roun about. Wunst he et his dinner, spread In our ole wheel-borry-bed. Ponchus Pilut says " at s not His right name, an done fergot What his shot-miff name is now An don* matter none wohow!" Yes, an* Ponchus he ps Pa, too, When our butcheries to do, An scalds hogs an says " Take care Bout it, er you ll set the hair!" Yes, an out in our back-yard He he ps Lindy rendur lard; An , wite in the fire there, he Roasf a pig-tail wunst fer me. An ist nen th ole tavurn-bell Rung, down town, an he says "Well! Hear dat! Lan* o* Caanan, Son, Aint dat bell say * Pig-tail done! 9 * Pig-tail done! Go call Son / Tell dat Chile dat Pig-tail done! 9 * 13* A TWINTORETTE A TWINTORETTE HO! my little maiden With the glossy tresses, Come thou and dance with ma A measure all divine; Let my breast be laden With but thy caresses- Come thou and glancingly Mate thy face with mine. Thou shalt trill a rondel, While my lips are purling Some dainty twitterings Sweeter than the birds ; And, with arms that fondle Each as we go twirling, We will kiss, with titterings. Lisps and loving words. SLUMBER-SONG 139 SLUMBER-SONG SLEEP, little one! The Twilight folds her gloom Full tenderly about the drowsy Day, And all his tinseled hours of light and bloom Like toys are laid away. Sleep! sleep! The noon-sky s airy cloud of white Has deepened wide o er all the azure plain ; And, trailing through the leaves, the skirts of Night Are wet with dews as rain. But rest thou sweetly, smiling in thy dreams, With round fists tossed like roses o er thy head, And thy tranc d lips and eyelids kissed with gleams Of rapture perfected. 140 THE CIRCUS PARADE THE CIRCUS PARADE THE CIRCUS ! The Circus ! The throb of the drums, And the blare of the horns, as the Band-wagon comes ; The clash and the clang of the cymbals that beat, As the glittering pageant winds down the long street ! In the Circus parade there is glory clean down From the first spangled horse to the mule of the Clown, With the gleam and the glint and the glamour and glare Of the days of enchantment all glimmering there ! And there are the banners of silvery fold Caressing the winds with their fringes of gold, And their high-lifted standards, with spear-tips aglow, And the helmeted knights that go riding below. There s the Chariot, wrought of some marvelous shell The Sea gave to Neptune, first washing it well With its fabulous waters of gold, till it gleams Like the galleon rare of an Argonaut s dreams And trie Elephant, too, (with his undulant stride That rocks the high throne of a king in his pride), That in jungles of India shook from his flanks The tigers that leapt from the Jujubee-banks. THE CIRCUS PARADE 141 Here s the long, ever-changing, mysterious line Of the Cages, with hints of their glories divine From the barred little windows, cut high in the rear, Where the close-hidden animals noses appear. Here s the Pyramid-car, with its splendor and flash, And the Goddess on high, in a hot-scarlet sash And a pen-wiper skirt ! O, the rarest of sights Is this " Queen of the Air " in cerulean tights ! Then the far-away clash of the cymbals, and then The swoon of the tune ere it wakens again With the capering tones of the gallant cornet That go dancing away in a mad minuet. The Circus ! The Circus ! The throb of the drums, And the blare of the horns, as the band-wagon comes ; The clash and the clang of the cymbals that beat, As the glittering pageant winds down the long street. 142 FOLKS AT LONESOMEWLLE FOLKS AT LONESOMEVILLE PORE-FOLKS lives at Lonesomeville Lawzy! but they re pore! Houses with no winders in, And hardly any door: Chimbly all tore down, and no Smoke in that at all 1st a stovepipe through a hole In the kitchen-wall! Pump that s got no handle on; And no woodshed And, wooh! Mighty cold there, choppin 7 wood, Like pore-folks has to do! Winter-time, and snow and sleet 1st fairly fit to kill ! Hope to goodness Santy Clous Goes to Lonesomeville ! THE THREE JOLLY HUNTERS 143 THE THREE JOLLY HUNTERS O THERE were three jolly hunters; And a-hunting they did go, With a spaniel-dog, and a pointer-dog, And a setter-dog also. Looky there! And they hunted and they hal-looed; And the first thing they did find Was a dingling-dangling hornet s-nest A-swinging in the wind. Looky there ! And the first one said "What is it?" Said the next, "We ll punch and see:" And the next one said, a mile from there, "I wish we d let it be!" Looky there 1 And they hunted and they hal-looed; And the next thing they did raise Was a bobbin* bunnie cotton-tail That vanished from their gaze. Looky there! 144 THE THREE JOLLY HUNTERS One said it was a hot baseball, Zippt through the brambly thatch, But the others said twas a note by post, Or a telegraph-dispatch. Looky there ! So they hunted and they hal-looed; And the next thing they did sight Was a great big bulldog chasing them, And a farmer, hollerin "Skite!" Looky there! And the first one said, " Hi-jinktum I " And the next, "Hi-jinktum-jee!" And the last one said, "Them very words Had just occurred to me ! Looky there!" THE LITTLE DOG-WOGGY 145 THE LITTLE DOG-WOGGY A LITTLE Dog-Woggy Once walked round the World: So he shut up his house; and, forgetting His two puppy-children Locked in there, he curled Up his tail in pink bombazine netting, And set out To walk round The World. He walked to Chicago, And heard of the Fair Walked on to New York, where he never, - In fact, he discovered That many folks there Thought less of Chicago than ever, As he musing- Ly walked round The World. He walked on to Boston, And round Bunker Hill, Bow-wowed, but no citizen heered him Till he ordered his baggage And called for his bill, 146 THE LITTLE DOG-WOGGY And then, bless their souls ! how they cheered him, As he gladly Walked on round The World. He walked and walked on For a year and a day- Dropped down at his own door and panted, Till a teamster came driving Along the highway And told him that house there was ha nted By the two starve- Dest pups in The World. CHARMS 147 CHARMS I FOR CORNS AND THINGS PRUNE your corn in the gray of the morn With a blade that s shaved the dead, And barefoot go and hrde it so The rain will rust it red: Dip your foot in the dew and put A print of it on the floor, And stew the fat of a brindle cat, And say this o er and o er: Corny! morny! bladey! dead! Gorey ! sorey ! rusty ! red ! Footsy! putsy! floory! stew! Fatsy! catsy! Mew! Mew! Come grease my corn In the gray of the morn! Mew! Mewi Mewl 148 CHARMS II. TO REMOVE FRECKLES SCOTCH ONES GAE the mirkest night an* stan Twixt twa graves, ane either han ; Wi the right han fumblin ken Wha the deid mon s name s ance ben, Wi the ither han sae read Wha s neist neebor o the deid ; An it be or wife or lass, Smoor the twa han s i the grass, Weshin either wi the ither, Then the faice wi baith thegither; Syne ye ll seeket at cock-craw Ilka freckle s gang awa ! A FEW OF THE BIRD-FAMILY 149 A FEW OF THE BIRD-FAMILY THE Old Bob-White, and Chipbird; The Flicker and Chee-wink, And little hopty-skip bird Along the river-brink. The Blackbird, and Snowbird, The Chicken-hawk, and Crane ; The glossy old black Crow-bird, And Buzzard down the lane. The Yellow-bird, and Redbird, The Tom-Tit, and the Cat ; The Thrush, and that Redhead-bird The rest s all pickin at! The Jay-bird, and the Bluebird, The Sap-suck, and the Wren The Cockadoodle-doo-bird, And our old Settin -hen ! 150 THROUGH SLEEPY-LAND THROUGH SLEEPY-LAND WHERE do you go when you go to sleep, Little Boy! Little Boy! where? Way way in where s Little Bo-Peep, And Little Boy Blue, and the Cows and Sheep A-wandering way in there in there A-wandering way in there! And what do you see when lost in dreams, Little Boy, way in there? Firefly-glimmers and glowworm-gleams, And silvery, low, slow-sliding streams, And mermaids, smiling out way in where They re a-hiding way in there! Where do you go when the Fairies call, Little Boy! Little Boy! where? Wade through the dews of the grasses tall, Hearing the weir and the waterfall And the Wee Folk way in there in there And the Kelpies way in there 1 THROUGH SLEEPY-LAND 151 And what do you do when you wake at dawn, Little Boy! Little Boy! what? Hug my Mommy and kiss her on Her smiling eyelids, sweet and wan, And tell her everything I ve forgot About, a-wandering way in there Through the blind-world way in there! 152 THE TRESTLE AND THE BUCK-SAW THE TRESTLE AND THE BUCK-SAW THE Trestle and the Buck-Saw Went out a-walking once, And staid away and staid away For days and weeks and months : And when they got back home again, Of all that had occurred, The neighbors said the gossips said They never said a word. THE KING OF OO-RINKTUM-JING 153 THE KING OF OO-RINKTUM-JING DAINTY Baby Austin! Your Daddy s gone to Boston To see the King Of Oo-Rinktum-Jing And the whale he rode acrost on ! Boston Town s a city: But O its such a pity! They ll greet the King Of Oo-Rinktum-Jing With never a nursery ditty! But me and you and Mother Can stay with Baby-brother, And sing of the King Of Oo-Rinktum-Jing And laugh at one-another! So what cares Baby Austin If Daddy has gone to Boston To see the King Of Oo-Rinktum-Jing And the whale he rode acrost on? 154 THE TOY PENNY-DOG THE TOY PENNY-DOG MA put my Penny-Dog Safe on the shelf, And left no one home but him, Me and myself; So I climbed a big chair I pushed to the wall- But the Toy Penny-Dog Aint there at all ! I went back to Dolly And she uz gone too, And little Switch uz layin* there ; And Ma says "Boo!" And there she wuz a-peepin 7 Through the front-room door: And I aint goin* to be a bad Little girl no more! JARGON-JINGLE 155 JARGON-JINGLE TAWDERY ! faddery ! Feathers and fuss ! Mummery! flummery! wusser and wuss! All o* Humanity Vanity Fair! Heaven for nothin , and nobody there 1 156 THE GREAT EXTLORER THE GREAT EXPLORER HE sailed o er the weltery watery miles For a tabular year-and-a-day, To the kindless, kinkable, Cannibal Isles He sailed and he sailed away ! He captured a loon in a wild lagoon And a yak that weeps and smiles, And a bustard-bird, and a blue baboon, In the kindless Cannibal Isles And wilds Of the kinkable Cannibal Isles. He swiped in bats with his butterfly-net, In the kinkable Cannibal Isles, And got short-waisted and over-het In the haunts of the crocodiles ; And nine or ten little Pigmy Men Of the quaintest shapes and styles He shipped back home to his old Aunt Jenn, From the kindless Cannibal Isles And wilds Of the kinkable Cannibal Isles. THE SCHOOLBOY S FAYORITE 157 THE SCHOOLBOY S FAVORITE the river and through the wood Now Grandmother s cap I spy : Hurrah for the fun ! Is the pudding done ? Hurrah for the pumpkin-pie ! SCHOOL READER. PER any boy at s little as me, Er any little girl, That-un s the goodest poetry-piece In any book in the worl ! An* ef grown-peoples wuz little ag in I bet they d say so, too, Ef they d go see their ole Gran ma, Like our Pa lets us do! Over the river an* through the -wood Now Grandmother s cap I spy : Hurrah fer the fun ! Is the puddin* done ? Hurrah fer the punkin-pie ! An 1 11 tell you why at s the goodest piece: Cause if s ist like we go To our Gran ma s, a-visitun there, When our Pa he says so; 158 THE SCHOOLBOY S FAYORITE An* Ma she fixes my little cape-coat An* little fuzz-cap ; an* Pa He tucks me away an yells "Hoo-ray!" An* whacks Ole Gray, an* drives the sleigh Fastest you ever saw! Over the river an 1 through the wood Now Grandmother s cap I spy : Hurrah fer the fun I Is the puddin 1 done ? Hurrah for the punkin-pie ! An* Pa ist snuggles me tween his knees An I he p hold the lines, An* peek out over the buifalo-robe ; An the wind ist blows! an the snow ist snows!- An the sun ist shines! an shines! An* th ole horse tosses his head an coughs The frost back in our face. An I ruther go to my Gran ma s Than any other place! Over the river an* through the wood Now Gran mother s cap I spy : Hurrah fer the fun ! Is the puddin done ? Hurrah fer the punkin-pie! fHE SCHOOLBOY S FAVORITE 159 An 1 all the peoples they is in town Watches us whizzin past To go a-visitun our Gran ma s, Like we all went there last;- But they can t go, like 1st our folks An* Johnny an* Lotty, an* three Er four neighber-childerns, an Rober-ut Volney An* Charley an* Maggy an* me! Over the river an 9 through the wood Now Grandmother s cap I spy: Hurrah fer the fun! Is the puddin* done? Hurrah fer the punkin-pie ! &6o ALBUMAMA ALBUMANIA Some certain misty yet tenable signs Of the oracular Raggedy Man, Happily found in these fugitive lines Culled from the album of Li^abutb Ann. FRIENDSHIP FRIENDSHIP, when I muse on you, As thoughtful minds, O Friendship, do, 1 muse, O Friendship, o er and o er, O Friendship as I said before. LIFE "WHAT is Life?" If the Dead might say, Spect they d answer, under breath, Sorry-like yet a-laughin : A Poor pale yesterday of Death! LIFE S HAPPIEST HOURS BEST, I guess, Was the old "Recess" Way back there s where I d love to be Shet of each lesson and hateful rule, When the whole round World was as sweet to me As the big ripe apple I brung to School. ALBUMANIA 161 MARION-COUNTY MAN HOMESICK ABROAD 1 who had hob-nobbed with the shades of kings, And canvassed grasses from old masters* graves, And in cathedrals stood and looked at things In niches, crypts and naves ; My heavy heart was sagging with its woe, Nor Hope to prop it up, nor Promise, nor One woman s hands and O I wanted so To be felt sorry for ! BIRDV! BlRDY! THE Redbreast loves the blooming bough The Bluebird loves it same as he; And as they sit and sing there now, So do I sing to thee Only, dear heart, unlike the I do not climb a tree To sing I do not climb a tree* WHEN o er this page in happy years to come, Thou jokest on these lines and on my name, Doubt not my love and say, "Though he lies dumb, He s lying, just the same! 5 162 THE LITTLE MOCK-MAX THE LITTLE MOCK-MAN THE Little Mock-man on the Stairs- He mocks the lady s horse at rares At bi-sickles an* things, He mocks the mens at rides em, too; An mocks the Movers, drivin through, An hollers "Here s the way you do With them-air hitchin-strings ! " "Ho! ho!" he ll say, Ole Settlers Day, When they re all jogglin* by, " You look like this," He ll say, an* twis* His mouth an squint his eye An tend like he wuz beat the bass Drum at both ends an toots and blares Ole dinner-horn an puffs his face The Little Mock-man on the Stairs! The Little Mock-man on the Stairs Mocks all the peoples all he cares At passes up an* down ! He mocks the chickens round the door, An* mocks the girl at scrubs the floor, An 1 mocks the rich, an* mocks the pore, An ever thing in town! THE LITTLE MOCK-MAN 163 "Ho! ho!" says he, To you er me; An 1 ef we turns an looks, He s all cross-eyed An* mouth all wide Like Giunts is, in books. " Ho I ho ! " he yells, " look here at me," An 7 rolls his fat eyes roun an* glares, "You look like this!" he says, says he The Little Mock-man on the Stairs! THE Little Mock The Little Mock The Little Mock-man on the Stairs, He mocks the music-box an? clock, An* roller-sofy an 9 the chairs; He mocks his Pa an* spec s he -wears; He mocks the man at picks the pears An 1 plums an 1 peaches on the shares ; He mocks the monkeys an* the bears On picture-bills, an* rips an 1 tears % Em down, an 1 mocks ist all he cares, An* 164 SUMMER-TIME AND WINTER-TIME SUMMER-TIME AND WINTER-TIME IN the golden noon-shine, Or in the pink of dawn ; In the silver moonshine, Or when the moon is gone: Open eyes, or drowsy lids, Wake or most asleep, I can h^ar the kitydids, "Cheep! Cheep! Cheep!" Only in the winter-time Do they ever scop, In the chip-and-splinter-time, When the backlogs pop, Then it is, the kettle-lids, While the sparkles leap, Lisp like the katydids, "Cheep! Cheep! Cheep!" HOME-MADE RIDDLES 165 HOME-MADE RIDDLES ALL BUT THE ANSWERS NO one ever saw it Till I dug it from the ground; I found it when I lost it, And lost it when I found: I washed it, and dressed it, And buried it once more Dug it up, and loved it then Better than before. I was paid for finding it 1 don t know why or how, But I lost, found, and kept it, And haven t got it now. II Sometimes it s all alone Sometimes in a crowd; it says a thousand bright things, But never talks aloud. Everbody loves it, And likes to have it call, 166 HOME-MADE RIDDLES But if you shouldn t happen to, It wouldn t care at all. First you see or hear of it, It s a-singing, then You may look and listen, But it never sings again. THE LOYELY CHILD 167 THE LOVELY CHILD LILIES are both pure and fair, Growing midst the roses there- Roses, too, both red and pink, Are quite beautiful, I think. But of all bright blossoms best- Purest fairest loveliest, Could there be a sweeter thing Than a primrose, blossoming? THE YELLOW-BIRD THE YELLOW-BIRD HEY ! my little Yellow-bird, What you doing there? Like a flashing sun-ray, Flitting everywhere: Dangling down the tall weeds And the hollyhocks, And the lordly sunflowers Along the garden-walks. Ho! my gallant Golden-bill, Pecking mongst the weeds, You must have for breakfast Golden flower-seeds: Won t you tell a little fellow What you have for tea ? Spect a peck o* yellow, mellow Pippin on the tree. ENVOY 169 ENVOY WHEN but a little boy, it seemed My dearest rapture ran In fancy ever, when I dreamed I was a man a man I Now sad perversity ! my theme Of rarest, purest joy Is when, in fancy blest, I dream I am a little boy. UN1VKKSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBBAB1 THIS BOOK IS DUE ON THE LAST DATE STAMPED BELOW 24 191G JUL 36 Pul 26 * 11 JUL 9 M JOr. c AUG 24 igkxfr jUL26r- L/