THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
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 Chief Wash-Hun-Gah.
 
 AD-EM-NEL-LA 
 
 AN INDIAN LEGENDARY 
 LOVE-STORY IN VERSE, 
 
 AND OTHER POEMS. 
 
 BY 
 
 ETHAN ALLEN HURST. 
 
 1915
 
 Copyrighted, 1915, by E. A. Hurst. 
 
 All rights reserved.
 
 3 
 
 DEDICATION. 
 
 To those Lovers around the globe, and only those, 
 who have risen high enough in the scale of life to love 
 with that pure and holy love, unmixed and uncontami- 
 nated with and free from all libidinous thought and 
 selfish feeling, and are therefore True Lovers, this 
 little book is respectfully inscribed. 
 
 THE AUTHOR.
 
 CREDENDA. 
 
 "Now go, write it before them in a table, and note 
 it in a book, that it may be for the time to come, for 
 ever and ever." Isaiah xxx. 8. 
 
 "For a woman will flirt with a man and lead him 
 on, and on, and he will go on, till, at last, there is no 
 hope for him." Socrates. 
 
 Orion is the author s guiding constellation; his 
 motto, "/ never let up." Selah. 
 
 ""I love him who worketh and inventeth to build a 
 house for the Superman." Nietzsche. 
 
 "The poetry of any epoch should be the best ex 
 pression of the best thought of the best thinkers of 
 that epoch." Allenhurst.
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 It is said that the vitality of a nation is measured 
 by the music of its poets, and that when the poetry of 
 a nation becomes new and fertile, or waning and de 
 cadent, that age in that nation becomes a generation 
 of hope, or a generation of despair. That when the 
 people of a nation seek rhythm and cadence in litera- 
 ture, through its poets and musicians, that nation tends 
 ** toward a wider life, takes a yearning for an inconceiva- 
 j ble future, and becomes vigorous and prolific of great 
 .^ events. 
 
 Individuals are like nations, because a nation is 
 
 naught but a multiplicity of individuals ; and nations 
 
 get their moral stamina and religious strength, or their 
 
 y vacillating weakness and pusillanimity, from the very 
 
 in breasts of the common citizenry. 
 
 > When the citizen goes singing to his work (whether 
 
 to office, shop or field), with his soul attuned 1 to the 
 
 melodies of solicitous Nature s gamut (as voiced in the 
 
 twittering song of the feathered harbinger of peace, 
 
 , the gentld laughing water, the perfumed flowers and 
 
 g odoriforous ozone breezes), and his breast heaving 
 
 s with the breath of the rhythmic meter of the Universe, 
 
 that man will be true to his employer, his servant, his 
 
 family, his beast, his country, and himself. 
 
 The contempt of the public taste for the art of 
 versification has been deeply shaken, and there is a re- 
 M! vival of poetry which is very noticeable now in Europe, 
 and more or less all over the world, among the higher 
 classes. France, especially, has a new generation of 
 noets who are setting the pace for the world ; likewise 
 Italy. The leading poetry journals of the advanced 
 
 7 
 
 449892
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 literary centers of the United States (Boston, New 
 York, etc.) are dominated with such writers as Mari- 
 netti, Duhamel, Pryds, and such unpronounceable for 
 eign names ; and the best talent of our own country is 
 being brought forward to compete with them in their 
 denouement of the higher and deeper feelings that play 
 in the bosom of /mankind under the new forms of life 
 that we are living in these fast days. 
 
 Poetry must live and will live, because it is neces 
 sary as an interpretation and sustenance of the finer 
 inner qualities and the character of the people who 
 are building the nations and solving the problems that 
 lie out before us. Not only do the finer qualities of a 
 nation and its perpetuity rest on the inherent relig 
 ious and poetic feelings of its people, but its very lan 
 guage looks to that source for its development and 
 perpetuation. 
 
 It has been remarked facetiously, but is a fact nev 
 ertheless, that, Poetry being the mother of Language, 
 the child approaches the difficult task of acquiring its 
 mother tongue through poetic channels by repeating 
 a well-known, universal poem ; and that without this 
 medium, the prattle of the infant, struggling with its 
 first words, would be as the growl of a wolf or the 
 scream of a hyena. But how different when the in 
 fant sings its first lullaby song, so inspiring to the 
 heart, and such sweet music to the ear of the fond 
 parent that first minstrel lay in that universal baby- 
 language : "Da-da," "Da-da," "Da-dy" ! 
 
 Poetry has been unpopular among the general read 
 ing public ; and the reason for this lies in the fact 
 that the ordinary reader has never taken time to famil 
 iarize himself with the rules that govern the writing 
 and reading of verse composition. A great many per 
 sons who attempt to write poetry observe no rules, 
 and seek for no expression except a jingle of words 
 which sound somewhat alike, and these words are 
 
 8
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 placed at the end of short or long sentences or phrases, 
 without any thought or, perhaps, knowledge whatever 
 of the pause, accent, cadence, or rhythm; and when 
 the reader undertakes to get something out of it, he 
 finds the conglomerate mass has no beauty, if indeed 
 any sense for him, and gives it up as a hopeless and 
 needless undertaking; and, in doing so, deepens his 
 already acquired or existing antipathy for all poetry 
 in general. 
 
 Nevertheless, Poetry is a sister of Music, and they 
 go hand in hand. If you should select one of the most 
 beautiful songs written by the dearly beloved blind 
 Fanny Crosby (now lately deceased), and sung by the 
 immortal Sankey, and undertake to sing it and get 
 music out of it, without ever having heard the song, 
 and without any knowledge of musical notation or of 
 the rules governing the writing and setting of music, 
 or the characters we call "notes," you would be driven 
 to give up the undertaking in utter disgust. What 
 would we think on hearing the good old "Songs of 
 Zion" mumbled over, if we had never heard anyone 
 sing them who could read music, or sing it? Or what 
 would they be if they had been written without any 
 kind of meter? 
 
 For the benefit of those persons who do not enjoy 
 reading poetry, and who may say therefore that they 
 do not like poetry, the author begs indulgence to give 
 a few hints here ; for he is sure that there is no normal 
 human being on the face of the globe who does not, 
 down deep in his inmost soul, have an inherent love 
 for that rhythm and beauty to be found in true poetry 
 and music when ii is properly written and rendered. 
 
 The two main requisites of poetry are known as 
 "accent" and "pause," both of which are almost un 
 known or unobserved by the ordinary reader; and 
 these, of themselves, possess so much musical power 
 that with them alone the drummer-boy may inspire 
 
 9
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 the army with so much feeling of patriotism and 
 bravery that it will march with alacrity and cheerful 
 ness into the battle s mouth, where almost certain 
 death awaits its soldiers. The sharp notes of the fife, 
 the rattle and roar of the battle, its musketry and can 
 non, the neighs of the maddened horses and the shrieks 
 of the dying men are caught, modified, and woven into 
 a cadence of rhythmic music by the measured "fudr-r- 
 r-r-rup! fudr-r-r-r-rw/>/ fudr-r-r-r-rup, rup, rup!" of 
 the drum ; and the same note, repeated at proper inter 
 vals, and with the proper stress or accent, is the vital 
 secret of it all. 
 
 As so much, therefore, depends on the observ 
 ance of these features, the author begs the indulgence 
 of the reader, and his pardon for any seeming pedanti- 
 cism, to give a brief outline of the rules governing the 
 poetry contained in, this volume, which may be mas 
 tered in passing without any study whatever; and the 
 observance of which will so greatly add to the reader s 
 appreciation of the effort which the writer has made 
 to please, entertain, and delight him in the following 
 pages. 
 
 The story of AD-EM -N EL-LA is written in a style of 
 poetry called "Heroic Measure," or Iambic Pentame 
 ter, which grammarians in their prosodies classify 
 under this formula: (u a x 5), which means that each 
 line is made up of five feet of two syllables each, the 
 first syllable of each foot unaccented and the second 
 accented ; or, in othen words, it is an unaccented and 
 an accented syllable multiplied by five, or repeated five 
 times in each line. 
 
 These lines, therefore, should be read as if they 
 were written in this form : 
 
 or 
 
 IO
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 The reader should imagine himself holding a drum 
 stick in his hand, while reading, with which he strikes 
 a bass-drum a sharp blow every time he pronounces 
 an accented syllable ; then he will be reading the verse 
 somewhat like this : 
 
 Re-fore 
 u a 
 
 a thoughi 
 u a 
 
 of worlds had eer 
 u a u a 
 
 ob-tained, 
 u a 
 
 Or earth 
 u a 
 
 or fir - 
 u a 
 
 ma-ment 
 u a 
 
 was made 
 u a 
 
 or named. 
 u a 
 
 This rule will govern the reader throughout the 
 entire story, as well as any poetry of this measure 
 wherever found, if correctly written. 
 
 In writing this kind of poetry (or any other kind), 
 it is a mistake to use a word anywhere, in any line, 
 whose accent, in its proper and natural pronunciation, 
 does not correspond with this rule. And when such 
 words are so written, it forces the reader to give an 
 unnatural accent to the word, or, if he pronounce it 
 correctly, it mars the beauty of the rhythm and spoils 
 the poetry. It becomes like the music of the battle 
 would become were the drummer to suddenly and 
 unexpectedly begin striking the drum at random. The 
 whole company would be thrown into instant confusion 
 and made, instead of a united and determined phalanx 
 moving on to sure victory, a disorganized multiplicity 
 of straggling individual soldiers in broken ranks and, 
 in all probability, fleeing from the battlefield before an 
 easily victorious enemy. 
 
 It might be well to say the "pause" should occur 
 at the end of each line, notwithstanding the grammat 
 ical construction of the sentence ; and there should be 
 a short, light pause near the middle of each line, in 
 very-long-line poetry. This (caesural) pause will sug 
 gest itself without giving any rule here. 
 
 u
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 These observations will apply to all the poems in 
 the book (with a few exceptions) ; that is, the poems 
 are nearly all written in this meter, but with different 
 multipliers. 
 
 It will be noticed that the first part of the love- 
 story is written in couplets, or stanzas of two lines, 
 each riming with the other; and the remainder of 
 the story in quatrains, or four lines, with each two 
 alternates riming. 
 
 Of the few poems written in different meters we 
 might mention : "They re After Us," which is mixed 
 verse having the Iambic (u a) combined with the An- 
 apest, which is (u u a) ; so that this poem appears 
 thus: 
 
 The sis- 
 u a 
 
 ters whom you 
 u u a 
 
 and I woo, 
 u u a 
 
 Fame and Fort- 
 u u a 
 
 une, 
 u 
 
 Are flirt- 
 u a 
 
 ing with us 
 u u a 
 
 ev-ery day 
 u u a 
 
 of our lives. 
 u u a 
 
 The poem "Andromeda s Sacrifice" is made up of 
 the Trochee (a u), the Pyrrhic (u u), and the Dactyl 
 (a u u) ; thus: 
 
 u u 
 
 In the 
 
 a u 
 
 long long years 
 
 u u 
 a-go, 
 
 u u 
 where the tall 
 
 a u 
 pal- 
 
 a u 
 
 m^-toes 
 
 grow, 
 u 
 
 Grew a 
 a u 
 
 maid-en 
 a u 
 
 fair-er 
 a u 
 
 than the 
 a u 
 
 po-et s dream, 
 a u u 
 
 The "Old Plantation" is written in the same varie 
 ties of meter as the above, but differently combined : 
 
 There s a pa- 
 u u a 
 
 thos in 
 u u 
 
 the sol- 
 u a 
 
 emn con- 
 u u 
 
 tem-pla- 
 u a 
 
 tion 
 u 
 
 Of the old 
 u u a 
 
 times and 
 u u 
 
 old friends 
 u a 
 
 we used 
 u u 
 
 to know, 
 u u 
 
 
 
 12 
 
 
 
 

 
 PREFACE. 
 
 In the short poems the author has sought to make 
 as much variety as practicable in a small number of 
 examples; as well the number of lines in a stanza, as 
 the feet in a line, and the number of riming lines in 
 each stanza. And though there are but few poems, 
 they cover a fairly wide scope in variety of versifi 
 cation. It will be noticed that they extend from two 
 to ten lines, that some are made to rime in three or 
 four lines, and some to carry two sets of rimes in each 
 stanza. 
 
 For example : the decastich "Mortality" consists of 
 ten lines each stanza, each of 10, 4, 10, 10, 8, 8, 4, 8. 
 8, 6 syllables; and these are tied in two couplets: i, j 
 and 6, 9 ; and three triads: 2, 3, 5 and 7, 8, 10. 
 
 Some of those carrying double rime are : "Don t 
 Cher Know," "The Spirit of Youth," etc. 
 
 To read verse rhythmically one must observe the 
 measure, time, stress, pause, and nm^ but all these 
 are nothing more than helps to aid the reader in the 
 full understanding and appreciation of the sense of 
 the subject matter of the poem, and to enable him to 
 convey that sense, easily and pleasantly, to the hearer 
 
 All of these poems have been written by the author 
 within the last two years, and are entirely original. 
 None have been published (until the time of going to 
 press in the publication of this book), except a few of 
 the shorter ones, which were published in the local 
 papers by especial permission of the author, and over 
 his nom de plume: Allenhurst.
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 In presenting this little book to the public the 
 author recognizes the trend of this commercial age to 
 ward that hurry and bustle that would require every 
 thing of a literary nature to be terse and concrete. 
 He has therefore abstained from circumlocutory and 
 periphrastic statements, the use of ornamental adject 
 ives and the painted rime, and has told the story 
 with the fewest words that could be made to convey a 
 clear idea of the tale he meant to portray. 
 
 He has likewise abstained from the use of slang 
 words, catchy phrases, and hackneyed sayings, for the 
 reason that they are short-lived, and their meanings 
 will be unknown to the general reader of the next 
 generation. 
 
 Those persons who feel themselves entitled to dis 
 tinction on account of their wealth or learning, and 
 who pride themselves on being able to find almost con 
 stant use for such phrases, for instance, as: "It is so 
 different," or "It is so strenuous," may feel that the 
 absence of such expressions in this composition very 
 much impairs the strength and tone that it would oth 
 erwise have ; but the author can remember when many 
 a locution of that kind was the sine qua non of polite 
 society (or that part of society that thought itself 
 polite) in certain localities, and that only a few years 
 ago, which is now entirely obsolete and forgotten. 
 
 It was only a few years ago that this class of apt- 
 expressionists was using, with great vigor and pride, 
 in some parts of our country, the very popular and 
 rhetorical provincialism, "Shoo, fly ! don t bother me" ; 
 and when it meant everything "so different, and so 
 strenuous"!
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 The author, in coming before the great but indif 
 ferent and sometimes cold public, in this, his infant 
 literary effusion, recognizes the fact that the writers 
 of the past whose works have survived to the present 
 day wrote in advance of their day and generation, and 
 their works were not recognized and received by their 
 contemporaries; he flatters himself, therefore, that if 
 the poetry he is writing to-day should not cater to the 
 taste of the present-day reader, it may meet the ap 
 proval of the reading public, and gratify the critique 
 of the connoisseur who lives in the next generation, or 
 the next century. And if his work is not received by 
 this generation, he will console himself in the belief 
 that literary taste is not sufficiently developed at the 
 present day that he is writing in advance of his age, 
 and that his writing will "come to its own" when the 
 race shall have been advanced to the grade of suscepti 
 bility where it can receive and enjoy the beauty of his 
 work. And, if he is mistaken in his premises, he flat 
 ters himself with the further consolation that he will 
 not live to know he was mistaken. Nor will his 
 detractors. (An Englishman might be asked to smile 
 here.) 
 
 And now, once more begging the indulgence of the 
 gentle reader, and his pardon fof mistakes and short 
 comings, and hoping that he may be entertained and 
 
 1.5
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 profited by a close and prayerful perusal of the little 
 book, the author comes to the last and best part of his 
 preface : 
 
 He acknowledges his obligations to his wife (Mrs. 
 Ollie Carr Hurst) for valuable help, and for the indul 
 gence of him and his foibles while preparing the man 
 uscript for the work ; and he desires to substitute* for 
 the hackneyed sentence, "Oh that mine enemy might 
 write a book !" this better one : Oh, what a good wife 
 must the husband have who writes a book! for she it 
 is who bears the burden and the worry of it all. 
 
 THE AUTHOR. 
 
 Hereford, Texas, May, 1915. 
 E. A. HURST. 
 
 16
 
 CONTENTS. 
 AD-EM - 
 
 Editor s Scholium ..................... 20 
 
 I. The Creation . . . ..................... 33 
 
 II. All Worlds Put in Motion .............. 38 
 
 III. Populating the Worlds ................. 39 
 
 IV. Carrying Out the Great Law ............ 40 
 
 V. The Fated Man and Woman Meet ....... 40 
 
 VI. We Were Strangers, She a Slave ........ 42 
 
 VII. The Follies of Lovers .................. 44 
 
 VIII. The Awfulness of Jealousy .............. 45 
 
 IX. The Severe Test ...................... -46 
 
 X. Woman s Lure ....................... -48 
 
 XI. A Great Opportunity ................... 50 
 
 XII. -The Wiles of the Fair .................. 51 
 
 XIII. Jealousy a True Test of Love ............ 53 
 
 XIV. Condonement s Sacrifice ................. 55 
 
 XV. Envy s Mission ........................ 56 
 
 XVI. Panegyrics The Lover s Wail ........... 58 
 
 XVII. The Lovers Transported to Heaven ....... 60 
 
 XVIII. The Heavenly Marriage ................ 63 
 
 XIX. Her European Trip ..................... 64 
 
 XX. Turmoils of This Wicked World- ........ 67 
 
 XXI. Addenda ............................. 71 
 
 End of Story.
 
 CONTENTS. Cont. 
 SHORT POEMS. 
 
 A "Cabby s" Tribute IDI 
 
 Andromeda s Sacrifice . . . 130 
 
 Children s Fairy Tale 103 
 
 Compensatory 119 
 
 Don t Cher Know 114 
 
 Disciples of Somnus 95 
 
 Echo 142 
 
 Friendship 135 
 
 Flower Seeds 90 
 
 Flying Thoughts 137 
 
 Hazardlets 95 
 
 I Am So Glad 115 
 
 Joe s Got the Biggest Aut no 
 
 Jake Brought in the News 107 
 
 La Mentira 76 
 
 Love s Requital 128 
 
 Love s Birthday 136 
 
 My Mother s Initial Prayer 74 
 
 My Vision 91 
 
 Modest Worth 96 
 
 (Over.} 
 
 18
 
 CONTENTS. Cant. 
 
 My Paraphrase 124 
 
 Mortality s Response 102 
 
 Man the Moth 127 
 
 My Creed 100 
 
 My Life Symphony 109 
 
 Mortality ; or, The Star of Bethlehem 121 
 
 Notes 143 
 
 Old Huerta s Got to Go 88 
 
 Our Church Programme 1 16 
 
 Our Tryst 134 
 
 Poor Leda Goodbin 79 
 
 Shelleyan Cronyns 1 18 
 
 Short-Changed 133 
 
 Some Consolation 99 
 
 The Maid s Lament 138 
 
 The Great Peace Palace 86 
 
 The Press 97 
 
 The Secret 106 
 
 The Spirit of Youth 112 
 
 Tender Woman s Power 118 
 
 The Lover s Recompense 120 
 
 The Last Chance (Unspeakable) 126 
 
 They re After Us 123 
 
 The Old Plantation 140 
 
 We Don t Speak 117 
 
 End of Short Poems.
 
 EDITOR S SCHOLIUM. 
 Legenda. 
 
 It is said that when the Oklahoma country was 
 thrown open to settlement by the white man, the author 
 was a young lawyer living and practicing his profession 
 in or near the border of that part of the country owned 
 by the Kaw Indian tribe. That the young lawyer was 
 retained, at the time, as attorney for that Nation, by 
 Wash-hun-gah, its Chief, in all the litigation and nego 
 tiations relative to the ceding of the rich Indian lands 
 to the United States Government, the provisions for 
 retention of tribal rights, and all the matters pertain 
 ing to the settlement of the many perplexing questions 
 growing out of the great change then taking place. 
 
 The young attorney was a polished young man of 
 good address, who came from one of the wealthy and 
 influential families of an Eastern State, where he had 
 received a polished education and drunk deeply from 
 the fountains of legal lore. He had made a study of 
 the Choctaw language, which was the written language 
 of the old Chief. He was a persistent and earnest 
 student of languages and peoples, of anthropology and 
 ethnology; had given much time to the study of 
 the great and all-absorbing "Indian Problem," and felt 
 the inevitable certainty of the speedy end of all tribal 
 rights, the eventual governmental citizenship of all In 
 dian tribes, and their final merger into the great white 
 dominant Anglo-Saxon race. He was in accord with 
 the political party then in power, and stood high in the 
 party councils, and with the Administration at Wash 
 ington. In fact, he was in every way equipped to rep 
 resent the interests of the great and rich tribe at whose 
 head had stood the old Chief Wash-hun-gah, as the 
 oracle and sole ruler, for almost three-quarters of a 
 century. 
 
 20
 
 EDITOR S SCHOLIUM. Cont. 
 
 The old Chief was full of years, ripe with expe 
 rience, and his mind enriched with a great fund of 
 knowledge, gained from a long life of persistent study 
 and careful thought. He recognized in the young 
 man the very qualities that he needed and was willing 
 to rely upon in the closing out of his long and honora 
 ble reign and chief ship ; and he accordingly cultivated 
 the young man s friendship and companionship, and 
 they were much together, becoming almost like father 
 and son in their close double-relationship that of at 
 torney and client as well as of oracle and student ; for, 
 while the young man was assisting the old one in un 
 raveling the modern questions that had recently grown 
 up, and helping to apply the law to the various hypoth 
 eses and pressing demands, he was sitting "at the feet 
 of Gamaliel" at the elbow of the old man, and drink 
 ing rich drafts from the cup of his long experience 
 and study. 
 
 Wash-hun-gah could read, in the signs of the times, 
 that in all probability his tribe would never elect a suc 
 cessor, and that he would be the last Kaw Chief that 
 the priestly robes of his sacred office, which had been 
 handed down through the centuries since the begin 
 ning of time (through a direct line from Kansas, the 
 great first Chief, who was appointed by CHITOKAKA. 
 the Great First Spirit), would become functus officio, 
 and the chiefship would end with his death. 
 
 His prophetic eye foresaw the coming condition of 
 his tribe, like all the tribes in the great rich Indian 
 country. The allotment of their lands that had been 
 held in common as Elysian fields for fishing, hunting, 
 grazing and fattening grounds, where their thousands 
 
 21
 
 EDITOR S SCHOLIUM. Cont. 
 
 of cattle and horses grazed peacefully throughout the 
 entire year, without feed or attention, and grew and 
 fattened ; their great rolling flat-iwoods of tall hickory 
 and pecan trees, teeming with the fleet-footed antelope, 
 the velvet-horned deer, the nimble squirrel, the fleet- 
 winged prairie chicken, the "tribal bob-white," the 
 wild honey-bee with her rich, honey-laden trees of 
 tribal, community honey, free to all for the taking; 
 with its streams of limpid waters, where the bass, 
 perch, and "red-hoss" delighted to disport and scam 
 per with the angler s hook; soon to be cut up into 
 farms, and people by an antagonistic race, whose worst 
 element had been always an avowed enemy of the In 
 dian, and a grafter for his rich heritage and posses 
 sions. He saw Government school-houses going up, 
 and the Government ingathering of the children of his 
 people taken from their native tepee-homes, and from 
 the care of fond parents, and carried away, by armed 
 force in many instances, to be "stuffed with the white 
 man s ideas," and to learn the language and habits and 
 wear the garb of a conquering and dominating race, 
 against which that underlying, deadly hate, though 
 smouldering and covered, was as deep and abiding as 
 in the scalping days of the fathers that race whose 
 encroachments had begun at the landing of the "Pil 
 grims" on the Atlantic coast, and followed westward 
 until now iti was stripping them of the last vestige of 
 their lands and taking their rights of property, their 
 rights of tribalship, their rights of free and self-gov 
 ernment, their rights to the custody and education of 
 their children, their rights to their very language itself 
 (for a law had just been promulgated prohibiting the 
 teaching of his beautiful guttural language within his 
 own hallowed territory). 
 
 The old Chief had lived to see the day come when 
 the white man, not content with taking all these, had 
 adopted a policy of "feeding the Indian from paper 
 
 22
 
 EDITOR S SCHOLIUM. Cont. 
 
 sacks." A corrupt Indian Agent had been appointed, 
 who inaugurated a system, in his "great solicitude for 
 the Indian s protection," of requiring every business 
 man who did business in the Indian country, or even 
 remained there, to pay the Agent a sum of money for 
 a permit. These permits were not mere licenses to 
 trade with and "cheat the Indian," but permits to com 
 mit a wholesale robbery of all the Indian had or might 
 ever hope to have. Merchants who had little five-hun- 
 dred-dollar stocks of goods paid this Agent as much 
 as five thousand dollars for permits, and owners of 
 larger stocks paid proportionate amounts. No busi 
 ness man could deal honestly with the Indian, because 
 he must have his money back, and he got it back by 
 making large accounts against the Indian families for 
 goods that the families never saw that the merchant 
 never even carried in stock or had to sell ; accounts 
 against Indians who never had bought a commodity 
 from him in their lives, and whom he never had seen 
 or heard of, except as he saw their names upon the 
 payment-rolls. These accounts were taken to the 
 Agency on payment week, and the poor Indian credit 
 or s interest money, due and payable from the debtor 
 Government (and not a charity fund, as some pretend 
 to believe), was pro-rated among the makers of the 
 accounts (for the accounts were always much greater 
 than the payment). The Indian never saw a cent of 
 his money, nor even touched the payment check, ex 
 cept to sign his name or make his mark on the back of 
 it, while it was being held tightly in the grip of the 
 "Merchants and Traders Union s" agent in the wicket 
 alongside of which the drove of lined-up, beast-brute 
 Indians were marched to the music of "Modern Com 
 mercialism and Greed Exploitation" in the name of 
 the United States Government and of justice to "Lo, 
 the poor Indian" ! 
 
 23
 
 EDITOR S SCHOLIUM. Cont. 
 
 He had seen the last vestige of Indian freedom and 
 liberty, customs and ways being taken away, the 
 cramped surroundings of citizenship and severalty- 
 ownership being forced upon his people, and States 
 being carved out of his own happy hunting-grounds, 
 sylvan forests, and wild-flower-bedecked prairies, to 
 be organized and governed by the white man. The 
 day had come" to his people when, instead of "arising 
 to kill and eat of the fat of the land and the firstlings 
 of his flocks," these flocks must be sold to the licensed 
 dealer and bought back in "paper-sack" dribs (not 
 only as to groceries and meats, but as to every article 
 of clothing and every kind of necessary supply) ; the 
 price, both "going and coming," to be fixed by the 
 dealer. He had seen his own dear country his share 
 with the other great tribes in the ancestral territory of 
 all North America the richest natural territory in 
 the world, cut down and reduced by treaties which 
 served to push him farther and farther west, and then 
 were violated and deleted by the white man under one 
 pretence and another, until the last pittance of his land 
 was now to be taken. The time had come when he 
 must see his people dominated by armed marshals and 
 dragged before Federal courts under trumped-up "fire 
 water" Charges, and before unfeeling judges in all 
 their Governmental pomposity and utter disregard for 
 all law and precedent; some of whom, if not most, 
 were appointed and sent out from Washington for the 
 adeptness of themselves and friends in graft, rather 
 than their wisdom in the great science of Blackstone 
 and Kent ; and who needed only to hear the charge 
 against a batch of twenty or thirty poor, ignorant In 
 dians, lined up (as they were frequently) in platoon 
 bunches, and the response of some officious deputy 
 marshal that they "all plead guilty," to order all to the
 
 EDITOR S SCHOLIUM. Cont. 
 
 penitentiary for terms that meant, to many of them, 
 life sentences. This was most abhorrent and odious 
 in the eyes and to the feelings of a tribe who would 
 prefer death by fire and torture before slavery or sub 
 mission to foreign rule. 
 
 Not only had he seen his people s children taken 
 from the parents, but the parents had been forced to 
 pay the children s board, at ruinous prices, away from 
 home, out of the accumulated fund belonging to them, 
 and for the "new-fangled" clothes that were so hate 
 ful in the sight of the parents and so distasteful and 
 hampering to the free, lithe limbs of the "children of 
 the forest." 
 
 He had seen the day come when his shrewdest and 
 best informed subjects were throwing off the "blanket" 
 and tribal relations ; when a party of "squaw-men" and 
 half-bloods had formed and grown up stronger than 
 the parent stem, and was advocating for surrender to 
 the white man the last vestige of ancient rights for the 
 privilege of citizenship and "white-man enthusiasm 
 and big-going-to-do" when his young men and women 
 were being turned out as graduates from thje Govern 
 ment schools, with the maternal and paternal love 
 "educated out of them," espousing the white man s 
 ideas and wearing the white man s clothes ; inter 
 marrying with the whites^ and bringing into disrepute 
 the old tribal relations and chief-rule, as old-fashioned 
 and out-of-date. The day had come when not only 
 were these things being done, but when it was being 
 demonstrated that it was best for both races that it 
 should be done that the merger of the red race into 
 the white and its amalgamation had become the inevit 
 able and certain fruits of the finger-point of Fate !
 
 EDITOR S SCHOLIUM. Cont. 
 
 He had seen the day approach when he, the great 
 Indian Chief of the proud, unconquerable Kaw race, 
 must give way to the government of the Great White 
 Father at Washington; when the beautiful legends of 
 his tribe would never more be handed down from gen 
 eration to generation through the lips of the chiefs, 
 but must be recorded like simple, prosaic history, to 
 be read by the vulgar and uninitiated ! 
 
 The old Chief s beautiful daughter, Tayiah (mean 
 ing "Little Deer"), was then nearing graduation in 
 one of the Government schools, and had been elected 
 valedictorian of her class; and the young man (our 
 author) had given her valuable assistance in the 
 preparation of her graduation paper, with which she 
 took the first grand prize, a scholarship in the great 
 Indian University of Carlisle, Pennsylvania. The 
 young man had not yet put the connubial chalice to 
 his lips, and could not conceal the attachment he felt 
 for the fair Indian maiden ; in fact, he spent much of 
 his time away from his office and at the palatial 
 brown-stone manor-house of the rich old Chief, in 
 company with his talented daughter. The old Chief 
 was not blind, and his eyes twinkled with suppressed 
 pleasure when he saw the play of affection between 
 the two ; he did not attempt to conceal the fact that he 
 would be pleased to lay his mantle on the young man s 
 shoulders. He felt that his oath of secrecy should 
 bind him no longer, since to hold the secret would be 
 but to lose it to the world. 
 
 These legends had been given to him by his prede 
 cessor chief, on his election to that high office, under 
 oath that thev should never be 1 revealed except to his 
 successor. (The tribe did not have a written language 
 and, like all the other tribes, made no written history ; 
 
 26
 
 EDITOR S SCHOLIUM. Cont. 
 
 but, unlike the other tribes, the Kaws preserved their 
 history by and through their "Chief Legends." Their 
 legends in the breasts of the old chiefs constituted their 
 history, and were handed down from chief to chief, 
 by word of mouth, from the beginning of time to the 
 present ; and were, by an ancestral decree, never to be 
 written "as long as water should flow or grass grow.",) 
 
 Wash-hun-gah saw that, in all probability, no suc 
 cessor would ever be elected to succeed him, and that 
 the great legends must be lost to the world on his 
 death ; he therefore consented, after great deliberation 
 and prayer, together with pow-wows and corn-dances 
 among all the people of his tribe, to give to his young 
 friend and attorney, under the sanctity of a most sol 
 emn and binding oath that they should not be revealed 
 by him to the world until there was no longer any 
 probabilty of a successor ; and even then, in no event, 
 until a period of twenty-one years from the Chief s 
 death should have elapsed, all the Sacred Legends of 
 the Tribe. 
 
 It was under these circumstances that this strange 
 legend of AD-EM -N EX-LA, among all the other legends 
 of the tribe, was given to the author just a few months 
 prior to the death of the grand old Chief the last 
 living Chief of the Kaw Nation. 
 
 The author was permitted to write them all and 
 translate them from the Choctaw to the English lan 
 guage ; and they have remained hidden away from the 
 eyes of all beholders, a profound secret, until the expi 
 ration of the time limit ; and this first revelation brings 
 forth now the first one of them for publication for the 
 first time in the history of the world. 
 
 27
 
 EDITOR S SCHOLIUM. Cont. 
 
 The legend of AD-EM-NEL-LA is the Kaw s belief 
 concerning the creation and population of the worlds, 
 and especially of the Earth. It teaches that, before 
 anything was created, and when nothing except CHI- 
 TOKAKA, Almighty God himself, existed, He in his 
 wisdom made all the Souls that were ever to be, and 
 constituted of them a commission, or conclave, with 
 all powers that He himself had, except the power to 
 create a soul. In fact, the Conclave had more power 
 than the Godhead, because it could create imperfect 
 worlds and beings, while God could not create an im 
 perfect or impure being. That this Conclave of Souls 
 created all worlds and peopled them with beings in 
 which the souls themselves took up their abode, and 
 had their in-dwelling for the purpose of demonstrating 
 that a being made from any substance whatever, if 
 leavened with a part of the Divine Essence, will rise 
 and perfect itself, in course of time, until it eventually 
 becomes worthy to sit in the councils of the Most 
 High, and, in fact, becomes a part of the Godhead. 
 
 The names of many of the members of this Council 
 or Conclave have been handed down through the gen 
 erations for many ages as they appear in this revela 
 tion.* They will show undoubtedly that they do not 
 belong to the Choctaw language; but bear a very 
 strong resemblance to the Israelitic or Hebrew names -, 
 and if they came from that source, it is evident that 
 they came to this country long before our history be 
 gins. We have no history of the Jews having had any 
 communication with, or even knowledge of the exist- 
 ance of, the Western Hemisphere until the fifteenth 
 century ; and this legend certainly antedated that pe 
 riod. How these legends got to North America, or, 
 indeed, how the Indian tribes reached this country, is 
 
 *See page 63. 
 
 28
 
 EDITOR S SCHOLIUM. Cont. 
 
 one of the hitherto unsolved mysteries, as there is no 
 history extant that throws any light, and it is yet 
 shrouded in mystery, unless the "Legends of the Great 
 Kaw Tribe, as Revealed through Their Last Surviving 
 Chief, Wash-hun-gah," which have not yet been given 
 to the world, shall be found to supply the missing link. 
 It is a well-developed theory among a class of 
 archaeologists that the North American Indian sprang 
 from the same race that, centuries afterward, laid the 
 foundation of the empires of the Incas and Aztecs in 
 South America; that the Easter Islands, and all that 
 Polynesian group, were reached at first, and later the 
 South American coast, by traveling from one island to 
 another across the intervening ocean; and thus they 
 found their way to this continent over islands that 
 have since disappeareed beneath the waters of the 
 Pacific Ocean. The Department of Agriculture is 
 now interesting all the ethnologists, botanists, and lin 
 guists in a careful study of the Malayo-Polynesian 
 archaeology, the languages, etc., and it is likely that our 
 author will soon begin the publication of the Revela 
 tions of Wash-hun-gah that pertain to this phase of the 
 history of the world, if some of the national museums 
 or historical societies do not take them over. 
 
 It is patent that many modern ideas and details 
 of quite recent date have grown into the legend of
 
 EDITOR S SCHOLIUM. Cont. 
 
 AD-EM-NEL-LA, and become a part of it; the incidents 
 of the love-story itself seem to have taken place in a 
 Western town in the United States, and among white 
 people, within the last few years ; but this is only nat 
 ural, since all legends take on color and form from 
 every country and every age through which they pass. 
 It is a well-known corollary that everything which 
 depends for its life on communication from lip to lip, 
 without written record, partakes of the lips through 
 which it passes down through the ages, and may be 
 traced in that way. There can be no doubt of the an 
 tiquity of this legend when this phase of it is carefully 
 and rightly studied. 
 
 AD-EM-NEL-LA was one of the originally created 
 souls, and therefore a part of the original Conclave of 
 Souls that created all worlds and all the inhabitants 
 of all worlds ; and it is the legend of AD-EM -NEL-LA 
 alone which is revealed in this book. He was con 
 signed, by the Conclave, to take up his abode in the 
 bodies of two individual persons on the Earth. By the 
 Conclave s design the creatures made for the different 
 worlds were made suitable for the worlds for which 
 they were created. The Earth was created with a dual 
 nature, everything was made in pairs; there was a 
 male and female duality that pervaded every particle 
 and atom of the Earth and all the things that pertained 
 to it; and, as no perfect thing could have duality, or 
 as a half unit* with no power to procreate itself with 
 out the meeting of another sex or foreign element was 
 incomplete, it was evident that a union of two individ 
 uals of every species and thing on the Earth was re 
 quired to make perfection or perfect entity; and as 
 every soul was a perfect entity, and a likeness of the 
 Creator, the souls to be sent to the Earth were nec 
 essarily divided into two parcels to fit the male and 
 female atoms of clay that were to become human 
 beings. 
 
 30
 
 EDITOR S SCHOLIUM. Cont. 
 
 A soul thus divided into male and female parts and 
 put into seperate individuals would incline those indi 
 viduals to seek each other, because the immortal would 
 dominate the mortal part of the individual and force 
 him toward an union. 
 
 The theory of the legend, therefore, is that there 
 can be but one man in the world for each woman, and 
 vice versa, and that a union of individuals whose par 
 cenary or chorisized souls are not parts of one com 
 plete entity is an abortion of Nature and an attempt 
 to annul the great "First Law." 
 
 The love-story is told by the male AD-EM-NEX-LA 
 seeking his Amaralma, or female element of his soul 
 the destined man and woman seeking each other, the 
 man and woman fated, created for each other. 
 
 It seems that when the destined pair found each 
 other on the Earth, they belonged to different strata of 
 society, moved in different "sets," or there was some 
 other great obstacle that prevented them from meet 
 ing each other in the ordinary manner; and their 
 courtship had to be entirely clandestine they could 
 not even write to each other. In fact, it seems to 
 have been a courtship different from any other ever 
 known, in that it extended over a long period of time 
 and a multiplicity of circumstances, without the lovers 
 having ever spoken or written to each other until after 
 the courtship was entirely at an end. 
 
 The most praiseworthy and strongest as well as the 
 most poetic trait in the character of the Indian s nature 
 seems to be that steadfastness with which he conforms 
 and adheres to the tribal forms or laws of his society 
 his sterling, unwavering honesty even in the face of 
 death itself. It has been often remarked that an In-
 
 EDITOR S SCHOLIUM.. Cont. 
 
 dian who is condemned to death needs no bond to 
 bring him to the place of execution on the day set ; and, 
 from this story, he seemed to be as conscientious in 
 matters of love. Although these lovers had an abiding 
 consciousness that they were created for each other, 
 and were a part of each other by the inevitable law of 
 Nature, which they believed was above all laws that 
 man could make, they would not disobey the man- 
 made law, but sought to overcome it in another way. 
 How they succeeded, if they did succeed, is left to the 
 judgment of the reader. 
 
 It smacks of a modern love-story, and is told by 
 the hero himself, and entirely in verse. It is also a 
 monologue and a pantomime in the nature of a picture 
 play. They had no secret meetings, communications, 
 nor liaisons ; and all they did was fairly legitimate. 
 
 It has been the purpose of the author to render the 
 story into clean-cut English, and eliminate all Choctaw 
 words from the text, holding as he does that quotations 
 of this kind, though so pleasing to the linguist who 
 may understand them, are odious to the general reader 
 and should not be included. In making some difficult 
 renditions, however, where the exact "sense" of the 
 original expression was found to be a little clumsy 
 when brought into English, he has given extracts from 
 the original language in the form of notes in the back 
 part of the book, that will more aptly and fitly eluci 
 date the idea of those passages in the story in its orig 
 inal form, and be found very helpful for the reader 
 who is acquainted with the Choctaw. 
 
 The figures after the words in the text treated will 
 refer the reader to the treatment. 
 
 THE EDITOR.
 
 AD-EM-NEL-LA. 
 
 (Note. Please read Editor s Scholium before beginning the 
 story. ) 
 
 I. THE CREATION. 
 
 Before a thought of worlds had e er obtained, 
 Or earth or firmament was made or named, 
 
 Before the twilight dawn of Time, we find 
 
 In God s Omniscient, Omnipresent Mind 
 A notion to create to cause to be 
 A being like Himself fac-simile; 
 
 A perfect being, one to sit in state, 
 
 Omnipotent and able to create, 
 Replica of Himself a perfect mold, 
 A nascent being An Immortal Soul.* l 
 
 Each Soul was part of God, a Spark or Breath, 
 
 Free from annihilation, loss, or death ; 
 Divine and holy Essence, Leavening, 
 Through which to reach all matter, and it bring, 
 
 Through its own efforts its own energy, 
 
 Up to a state of Immortality ; 
 
 That each crude entity in God s expanse 
 Might corporate itself, rise and advance, 
 
 All wisdom learn, itself perfect and fit 
 
 Become a part of God, and Infinite. 
 
 *See notes explaining the text, page 143. 
 
 33
 
 AD-EM-NEL-LA. 
 
 His purpose, in this potent work, was this : 
 
 To share a measure of Celestial bliss 
 
 And have companions 2 in His heavenly home 
 ( Twas not good, e en, for God to be alone) ; 
 
 To constitute, of mentors 2 , in the skies, 
 
 A Conclave to intuit and improvise 
 
 Plans for a wide extension of His grace, 
 Make myriads of worlds and place in space ; 
 
 To people each with creatures fit to hold 
 
 Some part, or all, of an Immortal Soul, 
 
 That every creature, whether high or low, 
 Throughout the Universe might feel and know 
 
 The ruling habitant of his own sphere 
 
 Is part of God, and God is everywhere. 
 
 Thus He made every Soul that was to be 
 
 Or live in time, or in eternity ; 
 
 And I was first on that Supernal Roll 
 ( Twas AD-EM-NEL-LA that He named my Soul.) 
 
 I sat in all the Conclaves of the skies, 
 Compeer, confrere with God, 3 like Him all-wise. 
 Our franchise, theurgic, was to create 
 "All but the Soul, be they things small or great." 
 
 We made all worlds made all the space would hold 
 Composed of tin, of brass, of zinc, of gold, 
 
 Of radium gradate, some lower, some higher, 
 Aluminum, feldspar, clay, brimstone, fire 
 Some substances more rare than these we used, 
 Which we made with a breath, nor power abused. 
 
 34
 
 THE CREATION. 
 
 Of worlds we made there was no lack, nor dearth; 
 
 And one of them our Conclave called "The Earth" ; 
 And for the world called Earth, as was our plan, 
 We made that lordly habitant called "Man." 
 
 Jehovah might have made mankind direct, 
 Complete, immortal, perfect, circumspect; 
 But He decreed that each recipient 
 Perfect himself through self-development. 4 
 
 Some worlds, the "suns," and "moons," and "stars, 
 we set 
 
 Within the heavens, like a minaret, 
 
 Those interstellar jewels clad in white, 
 As scintillating beacons of the night ; 
 
 From ambient depths of that lugubrious gloom 
 
 We created that cynosure of bloom, 
 
 Unknown to order, light, to cold or heat, 
 And set its nebulae in her retreat. 
 
 In darkest rift and orifice we set 
 
 Such lambent jewels, in their parapet, 
 
 As would reflect the tints of distant sky 
 By flashes from the Sun s resplendent eye. 
 
 These jewels, yet, no crimson light had seen, 
 Nor spun their colors in its brilliant sheen ; 
 The artist-god of tints had not begun, 
 For we had not yet made and placed the Sun. 
 Till all had been created all finite, 
 All space was in Cimmerian pall of night ; 
 
 35
 
 AD-EM-NEL-LA. 
 
 No modicum of light had yet been seen, 
 
 Premonitory of the spectral gleam. 
 
 The "Milky Way" had not exposed to sight 
 Catoptric, pearly avenues of white, 
 
 Its veil had not been rent athwart the sky ; 
 
 The Universe was dark, there was no "eye." 
 
 Our Conclave then arose to its full height, 
 To lift the pall from that eternal night, 
 
 That Stygian darkness, that great deep abyss 
 
 Which ne er had known nor felt a sunbeam s kiss, 
 Knew not the great catholicon of day, 
 Its prophylactic, penetrating ray ; 
 
 Knew not of that sweet message "Life" might 
 bring, 
 
 Because, as yet, we d made no living thing. 
 
 And when the planet worlds were made to fit, 
 
 Each in a proper place in its orbit, 
 
 And ready to be moved, or turned, or reeled 
 Like army hosts in some great battlefield 
 
 Commanded by some great Napoleon, 
 
 Or Caesar when he crossed the Rubicon, 
 
 Each made to trace and retrace its own course, 
 By that unerring law, we made, called force, 
 
 And all, in awe-inspiring aspect, stood 
 
 As sentries of that deep, stark solitude 
 That great unfathomable, broad unpent, 
 Devoid of crenelle in its battlement ; 
 
 And all was cold and distant, dark and dead, 
 
 Except our Soul-Conclave and its Godhead, 
 
 We fashioned, set the great Sun in his place, 
 To light and vitalize all Nature s face ; 
 
 And, unveiling His face mid blackest night, 
 
 God said : "Let there be light," and there was light. 
 
 36
 
 THE CREATION. 
 
 And when that light to all the worlds had sped, 
 In all its primal colors panoplied, 
 
 Archangels sang their shouts, "Hallelujah !" 
 In holy, thankful praise for that New Day. 
 And planet, moon, and star, and asteroid, 
 New born into the family, out their void, 
 
 Redeemed from pristine chasm and,abyss, 
 Sent back a radiant gleam, a thankful kiss. 
 "Aurora Borealis" through the sky 
 Sent lighted streamers in her ecstasy, 
 
 And over all a "Bow of Promise" spanned, 
 A promise, everlasting, from God s hand ! 
 
 We set the worlds in space, their orbits fixed, 
 We circumscribed their spheres, them intermixed ; 
 Made some to turn on axis rythmic move, 
 And some to wobble in a spiral groove ; 
 Some with eccentric play, now up, now down, 
 Some rolling east, then west when half around ; 
 One speeding round a segment to its arc, 
 Then on the chord to reach its countermark ; 
 Some flying fast as if quite unrestrained 
 Momentum wild control again regained 
 
 37
 
 AD-EM-NEL-LA. 
 
 We made a law that would each world protect, 
 And give its functions purpose and effect ; 
 
 And all were then inspected, as they stood, 
 By God himself, Who said : " Tis very good." 
 
 II. ALL WORLDS WERE PUT IN MOTION. 
 
 When we had harnessed the machinery, then, 
 
 Had oiled the gudgeons, "cranked the car," and when 
 
 All Heaven s hosts had gathered for the show, 
 
 God touched the lectric spark and let it go. 
 The whir and rumble, swish and roar that rent 
 The clouds and loosed the thunder s tones long pent, 30 
 
 Brought back to our Conclave the glad acclaim, 
 
 In universal worship of His Name. 
 
 The dreary wastes, long silent, mute and dumb, 
 
 Reverberated with Machinery s hum ; 
 
 That universal World s- Wheel-Orchestra 
 Played the inaug ral anthem of that day ! 
 
 That momentum of force will never slack 
 
 Artillery from Heaven "bellowed back" 
 
 In one contin ous, deaf ning, thund rous roar 
 World s glad acclaim echoed from farthest shore. 
 
 Our Conclave stopped its labors to drink in 
 
 And pay hosanna to the rav shing din ; 
 
 It was, in deed, the "music of the spheres," 
 We watched and listened for a thousand years !
 
 AD-EM-NEL-LA. 
 III. POPULATING THE WORLDS. 
 
 Inhabitants were made for each new place, 
 Each from the substance of its own world s face; 
 A Soul, or .part of Soul, was then assigned 
 To each of these as our Conclave designed. 
 Sometimes one Soul sufficed for five or ten, 
 According to that world s design, or when, 
 
 As on the Earth, where, by Conclave decreed, 
 Two persons have for but one Soul a need. 
 And all the worlds, and their inhabitants, 
 Were made in Heaven s Conclave, in advance 
 Of His approving, final signature ; 
 We made them all, but made none perfect pure. 
 Each habitant of every world made him 
 In pairs, or sets, or groups, whate er our whim. 
 
 The habitants of Earth in pairs, to hold 
 The male and female fractions of a Soul. 
 No being with a sex can be complete, 
 And hence our law by which both sexes meet 
 To constitute an entity, or whole, 
 One of each sex for each Chorisized Soul ; 
 And each of these two sexes we inclined 
 So it would seek its complement in kind. 
 
 To every living thing in earth or sea 
 
 We gave this nature of duplexity ; 
 
 Just why we made mankind male and female, 
 I may reveal to you in my next tale.
 
 AD-EM-NEL-LA. 
 IV. CARRYING OUT THE GREAT LAW. 
 
 In Conclave s session, as if by new birth, 
 I was appointed to come down to Earth ; 
 
 All female parts, cast out of me, combined 
 To animate a being of that kind ; 
 The other half of me was then sent, and 
 Went in to vitalize and make a man ; 
 
 The Man and Woman had the task assigned, 
 To seek and find each other, and, combined, 
 Produce descendants after their own kind 
 According to the Will of Divine Mind. 
 
 (All progeny are mongrels, as a whole, 
 But children of those with a common Soul. 
 The law is strict, "No innovation make, 
 Miscegenation s child thou shalt not take, 
 Thou shalt not marry if thou canst not find 
 Thy Amaralma complement in kind.") 
 
 V. THE FATED MAN AND WOMAN MEET. 
 
 And, coming now to Earth, I am that man, 
 
 And sought that woman who enthralled my heart ; 
 
 I searched the Earth for her, as was His plan, 
 Until my eyes beheld my counterpart. 
 
 40
 
 THE FATED MAN AND WOMAN MEET. 
 
 I knew her when I saw her knew her well 
 
 Embodiment of all that s fair and good ; 
 She, with her modest beauty, cast a spell 
 
 No sentient, mortal man could have withstood. 
 To say I was enraptured were too mild, 
 
 My whole volition passed to her control ; 
 A rev rie filled the heart of Nature s child, 
 
 Kaleidoscopic visions charmed my soul! 
 
 Twas Sunday morn, she stood at her church door 
 
 To open it for those who d enter there ; 
 I ne er had seen or noticed her before 
 
 I then beheld her face, her eyes, her hair ! 
 Oh ! was it she, or could I b lieve my eyes ? 
 
 So placid, beautiful, so young, so fair! 
 Oh, how it thrilled my soul to recognize 
 
 My living Amaralma standing there ! 
 
 At first she seemed to hesitate, and gaze, 
 
 And search my eyes to find the secret there ; 
 And now twas found, she seemed as in a maze, 
 
 For she, like I, had sought it everywhere. 
 I knew she knew me, and her love was strong ; 
 
 I knew it was the first she d ever felt ; 
 Oh, what a task, with me, in that great throng, 
 
 To hide the feelings which, then, in me dwelt ! 
 The knowledge that I d found her racked my frame 
 
 And stilled my soul like some great, deep forebode, 
 My tongue lay silent could not speak her name, 
 
 And fear in rash confusion o er me rode.
 
 THE FATED MAN AND WOMAN MEET. 
 
 I saw my other half in full array, 
 
 Reflected from our Soul, in all her form, 
 
 Her roguish, laughing, jet-black eyes that day 
 
 Pierced through my heart like sweetest breath of 
 morn. 
 
 VI. WE WERE STRANGERS, SHE A SLAVE. 
 
 We ne er had seen each other till that day, 
 
 Nor knew each other s names nor ranks in life; 
 I knew not if some barrier might stay, 
 
 Nor whether she could ever be my wife. 
 Alas ! I found, too soon, we could not meet ; 
 
 She was in bondage, an unwilling slave, 
 Enchained by that old dragon-god Discreet, 
 
 In fetters cold and ruthles^ as the grave. 
 
 He forged his chains about her del cate form, 
 
 Enacted laws to make his powers secure, 
 Pretendingly to shield her from all harm, 
 
 But that her love for him he might inure. 
 Exacting, jealous lover, dragon-god, 
 
 He gave no quarter nor hindrances brooked, 
 He ruled her, swayed her with an iron rod, 
 
 And closely to her shackles ever looked. 
 
 In spite of all his strictures, vigilance 
 
 His locks, his bolts, his bars, as always prove, 
 She found excuse at me to steal a glance ; 
 
 For there s no lock that can imprison love. 
 And as she blithely tripped along the street, 
 
 Bedight in homely dress, with hair half-done, 
 Or rich conceptions, elegant, complete, 
 
 It was the same to me, I had been won. 
 42
 
 WE WERE STRANGERS, SHE A SLAVE. 
 
 For many hopeful, watchful hours I ve stood, 
 
 At some choice spot that I might see her pass, 
 And, waiting there much longer than I should, 
 
 Have failed to 1 get a glimpse of her at last ; 
 Or sat upon the porch Hotel Blowhard, 
 
 Among the guests who frequent that swell place, 
 And watched her glide along the boulevard, 
 
 With all her agile beauty, poise, and grace ; 
 And oft when I my paper feigned to read, 
 
 To hide my look at her from those around, 
 She d cast her eye at me with lover s greed, 
 
 And smile to see the paper upside down ; 
 And when she passed me by, so fresh, so chaste, 
 
 The pure, sweet girl with youth and love, so gay, 
 With what glad zeal I was constrained to haste. 
 
 And go to take my station there next day. 
 
 Sometimes she d recognize me with her eye, 
 
 Sometimes my longing, saddened look she d meet ; 
 But many were the times she dared not try, 
 
 Because of her dread fear of old Discreet. 
 When he found out one method she d employed 
 
 To show her love was strong and true for me, 
 And ordered her to cease, she, unannoyed, 5 
 
 Would find another ruse in strategy ; 
 When she. in passine me, dared look no more, 
 
 She d pass me bv, and then, sometimes, turn back ; 
 Sometimes she d look in window, or glass door. 
 
 And thus give Discreet s vigilance a "whack." 
 Sometimes, in passine me, when she got by, 
 
 And knew herself the object of my stare, 
 She d touch her dainty finger neath her eye. 
 
 As if to stanch a toar that lingered there. 
 
 43
 
 AD-EM-NEL-LA. 
 
 And when old dragon caught this artful ruse, 
 
 She d smile while passing me, but look away, 
 
 And, in the smile, she said: "You must excuse; 
 Old dragon s closely after me to-day." 
 
 And then I d hie to some sequestered nook, 
 
 And pour out tears fresh from Dan Cupid s fount, 
 
 Sweet-bitter tears that none could ever brook 
 Except the lover standing on Hope s mount. 
 
 VII. THE FOLUES OF I LOVERS. 
 
 One night we sat in church ; her hat was new, 
 
 (I J m pleased to see her sport new dress or hat.) 
 She turned and sat one-sided in her pew, 
 
 As if to hear the discourse better by that; 
 Her real aim was that our eyes might meet, 
 
 And drink love s potions from their crystal depths ; 
 And, at the same time, puzzle old Discreet, 
 
 And hamper him in taking other steps. 
 
 That hour sermonic, sweetest ever felt, 
 
 We laved our souls in crystal founts of love; 
 And while the preacher on the Dead Sea dwelt, 
 
 iWe dwelt on holy unction from above ; 
 Oh, heavenly sermon that it must have been ! 
 
 She looked so innocent, so chic, so cute 
 It must have cleansed the people from their sin, 
 
 I saw her triune hat plumes them salute. 
 
 44
 
 THE FOLLIES OF LOVERS. 
 
 The service out, too soon we had to go ; 
 
 She strode away with Cleopatric grace, 
 And, from the tonneau of her new auto, 
 
 She turned and smiled into my pleading face. 
 The lectric lights were dead just at that place, 
 
 Nor old Discreet nor anyone could see, 
 But she saw me, and I could see her face, 
 
 Its brilliant beauty was a sun to me. 
 
 There was a halo shining round her face 
 
 I had not noticed it until that night ; 
 I see it now at any time, or place 
 
 It makes her form a radiant of light ; 
 This halo e en affects her clothes, her gown, 
 
 So much that when her sister wears her hat, 
 I catch a glimpse of it away up town. 
 
 And hie to seek the "Blowhard" porch from that. 
 
 VIII. THE AWFULNESS OF JEALOUSY. 
 
 One day I saw her, from my vantage-place, 
 
 Smile at a man and, passing, smile again, 
 And, entering her boudoir, turn her face, 
 
 And give him one, more smile (Damsttlygrin.)* 
 Oh, whew ! How suddenly my heart stood still ! 
 
 How cold the chill that froze my rack-rent frame f 
 How sick and faint I felt, how weak my will ! 
 
 How hot the fire that set my soul aflame ! 
 
 Anglicized Choctaw. 
 
 45
 
 AD-EM-NEL-LA. 
 
 For several days I "camped close on his trail," 
 
 And watched him with foul murder in my heart ; 
 I planned to kill him, crunch him like a snail 
 
 (He swelled, his selfish pride began to start.) 
 That night, as I lay rolling cursing wild, 
 
 A hint let fall of him and her I d heard, 
 An act I d seen once, but which, then, was mild, 
 
 Came back to grill me, mounted, booted, spurred ; 
 I raved like some mad wild beast in his cage, 
 
 As in my vitals that "green monster" gnawed ; 
 I even cursed her, in my wildest rage ; 
 
 And prayed, too, that I might not her defraud. 
 Before I d run the thing to earth and found 
 
 It was a ruse of hers to fool Discreet, 
 I found my hair was turning gray all round, 
 
 My head, on top, somewhat hirsute-deplete. 
 
 (The worst curse Burns could find for all the foes 
 
 Of "Scotland s weal" was a two-months toothache ; 
 Too merciful he was, the sequel shows, 
 
 To wish that they love- jealousy might take.) 
 From God s plan of rewards and punishments, 
 
 He might have, well, eliminated Hell 
 For desp rate sinners stubborn unrepents. 
 
 For jealousy had served that end as well. 
 
 IX. THE SEVERE TEST. 
 
 Sometimes I Ve gone away from our home town, 
 
 That I might break the spell her charms have cast 
 I Ve traveled paced the irksome world around, 
 Intent, her magic to escape at last. 
 
 46
 
 THE SEVERE TEST. 
 
 I thought to do this for her dear, sweet sake ; 
 
 To go so far away we could not meet, 
 That she and I, both, might the love-charm break, 
 
 And I my claims release to old Discreet. 
 It was in vain, it only fanned the fire, 
 
 It only made me love her all the more, 
 It warmed the ardor of her mad desire, 
 
 It interlocked our hearts for evermore. 
 
 Whate er I did, wherever I might be, 
 
 Twas her I looked and waited to behold ; 
 There was no rest, no quietude for me 
 
 She is the Pole-star of my heart and soul. 
 No other in my heart can fill her place ; 
 
 She is a part of me, that part sublime ; 
 I crave her love, I bow before her face 
 
 I want it all, I want it all the time ! 
 So many times when I was far away, 
 
 Mid scenes enchanting, charmed by Music s spell, 
 Where Youth was waltzing under Beauty s sway, 
 
 In "Lulu Fados" up-to-date and swell ; 
 Mid sweet incense of choice exotic flowers, 
 
 Where Wealth and Circumstance in Fashion s play, 
 Bejeweled ladies fresh from scented bowers, 
 
 In silks translucent to electric s ray, 
 In decollete, with bosoms like the snow, 
 
 Aflame with diamonds scintillating light, 
 And men intoxicate with champagne s flow, 
 
 And Wits o ercome with chasing Beauty s sprite, 
 I ve slipped away to some secluse retreat, 
 
 To hide my tears, and think of her, how fair 
 As she comes tripping down the village street, 
 
 In plain school-dress, and with her half-done hair ! 
 
 47
 
 AD-EM-NEL-LA. 
 
 And when a thousand faces I have scanned, 
 
 And searched for beauty up and down the Earth, 
 There is not one that bears her stamp and brand 
 
 All counterfeit all show the lack, the dearth ; 
 Alike devoid of that which grips my heart ; 
 
 Controls and makes me, yet, a better man 
 All show, all false they simply act a part ; 
 
 The genuine is she, she bears the brand. 
 
 X. WOMAN S LURE. 
 
 Oft when she worshiped in her church at night, . : 
 
 I felt unworthy to her presence share, 
 I d hide without and watch the colored light 
 
 Stream through art windows, and her worship 
 
 there ; 
 And when the services were nearly past, 
 
 - I d skulk her pathway, in deep shadows bide 
 Thus made myself a cowardly outcast, 
 
 To spend one precious moment near her side ! 
 
 Proud man ! in all thy majesty and might, 
 
 How soon thou shalt become a weakling thing 6 
 
 When Woman s Lure arrests thy aeroflight, 
 
 And plucks the golden pinion from thy wing ! 
 
 Her Lure is like that little tongue of flame 
 
 Which plays upon the lowering storm-cloud s face, 
 And seems to us so innocent and tame, 
 
 So harmless, nugatory, commonplace ; 
 And, from its tongue-tip, spits the thunderbolt 
 
 That leaps out from the sky with cruel stroke. 
 And, tearing through the air with crash and jolt, 
 
 Strikes, bursts asunder, kills the giant oak. 
 48
 
 WOMAN S LURE. 
 
 That sturdy mountain oak who, in his might, 
 
 Withstood the holocaust, and storm, and blast 
 
 A thousand years that sylvan anchorite, 
 An idol, shattered by iconoclast ! 
 
 Her Lure is like that fragile, velvet wing, 
 
 That gossamer of butterfly so fair, 
 Who dallies, sgorts among the flowers of spring, 
 
 And rides, so leisurely, the ambient air; 
 That ornate wing, light as the eiderdown, 
 
 Embellished in its silvery garniture, 
 Which fans a feeble whirl of air around 
 
 That, formed, at first, in vortex immature, 
 Engenders, as it swirls, a momentum 
 
 Of force like which, in Nature, none is known, 
 Becomes, of power, the great infinitum, 
 
 That gyratory, deadly, dread Cyclone! 
 
 Her Lure is like that lethal "turpinite," 
 
 Some grains of which exploded, it is said, 
 Will kill whole troops of soldiers with one smite, 
 
 And leave them standing, still in line, stark dead. 
 Tis like that power mesmeric-Marconi 
 
 Which flashes from omnivorous Atlantic 
 Corruscant sparks of electricity, 
 
 And succors, saves a found ring Titanic, 
 And brings its tribulation that relief 
 
 No hitherto known agent can impart 
 Her Lure, a fortiori, latent chief, 
 
 It reaches, grips, o erpowers, enslaves my heart! 
 
 49
 
 AD-EM-NEL-LA. 
 XI. A GREAT OPPORTUNITY FOR Us. 
 
 One time we had a great evangelist 
 
 Hold services in our town twenty days ; 
 It was a union Baptist, Methodist 
 
 A mixture of all "isms" and all ways ; 
 The sessions held in St. John s Park at night, 
 
 And some two thousand people came each time; 
 The weather fine, the park well wired for light, 
 
 The minister an orator sublime ; 
 The orchestra was large enough to seat 
 
 A thousand singers, organ, lute, and lyre, 
 Proscenium and preacher s stand complete 
 
 She was a member of the splendid choir. 
 
 I believed in Christianity and prayer, 
 
 I was an interested worshiper; 
 My Christian zeal as great as any there, 
 
 And too, beyond all that, I worshiped her; 
 I think I m competent, therefore, to say 
 
 A truth which neither need be "swaged nor 
 
 Swelled" : 
 Of all religious gath rings to that day, 
 
 It was the greatest meeting ever held. 
 
 I first chose what I thought a vantage place, 
 
 As, usually, most worthy Christians do, 
 A seat not too far from the "fount of grace," 
 
 Affording other handy "outlooks" too ; 
 When I had chosen settled on that pew, 
 
 She shifted hers upon the staee with care, 
 So that, with reference to me, she knew 
 
 She d be ensconced behind the preacher s chair.
 
 A GREAT OPPORTUNITY FOR US. 
 
 She knew her business when she made that ruse : 
 
 I saw old Discreet "lick his chops" and smile- 
 He thought, then, he could take a pleasure cruise ; 
 I knew she had him beaten half a mile. 7 
 
 XII. THE WILES OF THE FAIR. 
 
 To see deception of the highest grade, 
 
 By some past-mistress of the Circe plan, 
 You want to see, in Love s embrace, a maid 
 
 Set out and bait her traps to catch a man. 
 Catch one, then turn him loose to catch some more, 
 
 And wing and wound them with her polished 
 
 darts; 
 Or sling them, like a fish, on some hot shore, 
 
 To gape and pant for breath till life departs ; 
 Manipulate, and get them to one spot, 
 
 Corral them with some new sorceric "gag" ; 
 Then, like the hunter, make a grand "pot-shot," 
 
 And fold their scalps away in her handbag. 
 
 A man may have the wisdom of old Sol., 
 
 The length of years of old grandpa Methuse., 
 Repeat Macaulay, Shakespeare by the vol., 
 
 Know all philosophy of old Confuce. ; 
 May know the labyrinths of old Valjean, 
 
 The Pentateuch, the Koran, and all that ; 
 Spin off Greek poetry by quire or ream, 
 
 Et tout cela que noire plus grand a fait;*
 
 AD-EM-NEL-LA. 
 
 But woman, when she loves, can set more plans 
 
 To get the man she wants to make him glad ; 
 Can wheedle, dominate him, tie his hands, 
 
 Manipulate him, make him good or bad, 
 Humiliate him, mold him, him debase, 
 
 Lift him to Heaven, cast him down to well, 
 Can make his life a byword and disgrace. 
 
 (Lord pity him who falls before her spell !) 
 
 Her wish was to conciliate Discreet, 
 
 To hoodwink him and mitigate his powers, 
 
 To show him she was in a safe retreat ; 
 
 And Freedom s right to love would then be ours! 
 
 It was so classy, esoteric, doux, 
 
 While she sat there so saintly, neat, and meek, 
 And I like some old pompous kangaroo, 
 
 For us to play the game of "hide and seek" ; 
 We played it straight and hard, we played it true 
 
 I hope you 11 not forget we "held the bit" ; 
 And here s a secret just for me and you : 
 
 Old dull Discreet did not "catch on" to it. 
 
 In order to retain our chosen seats, 
 
 We had to be there early on the ground ; 
 
 I had been tardy at one of the meets, 
 
 And found her "on the job" with mine held down.
 
 JEALOUSY A TRUE TEST OF LOVE. 
 
 The members of the choir had then been called, 
 
 But she d engaged a chum to hold her seat ; 
 She d, thus, the members of the choir forestalled, 
 
 And hence arranged "our business" all complete. 
 A little thing like that is ne er forgot, 
 
 It weaves of warp and weft that will not part, 
 It smacks of piquant romance and love-plot, 
 
 And makes a man feel good down in his heart. 
 
 XIII. JEALOUS v A TRUE TEST OF LOVE. 
 
 One night a neighbor girl sat near my seat, 
 
 I handed her a rose with which to toy, 
 She looked at me and smiled a little sweet 
 
 The silly girl meant naught but youthful joy; 
 As soon as services were closed that night, 
 
 ^he ran and snatched the rose from her, away, 
 Her blazing eyes gave that poor girl a fright, 
 
 From which she s not recovered till this day. 
 She tore its petals out with savage frown, 
 
 With them the four winds of the Earth made red, 
 Vindictively she threw the stamen down, 
 
 And "with her heel she bruised the serpent s head." 
 
 Next day her dear face looked so sad, forlorn, 
 
 I felt unable to restrain my tears ; 
 She turned her head away from me in scorn 
 
 I saw she d aged, last night, at least ten years ! 
 All through the services I sat and wept ; 
 
 Until the very last she held aloof, 
 Disdainfully she lofty spirits kept, 
 
 In meting out to me my just reproof ; 
 
 53
 
 AD-EM-NEL-LA. 
 
 I begged her with my eyes I based my plea 
 
 On accident, aussi non savoir faire 8 
 To lift the burden from me make me free 
 
 Let me again her recognition share. 
 At torment s rack she kept me till the last ; 
 
 And, when the services were nearly o er, 
 She lowered her pensive eyes her heart beat fast 
 
 And let me gaze into her soul once more. 
 
 Oh, glad renewal s crucible-bought love! 
 
 Tis sweeter than all other loves beside 
 Shekinah s search-light beaming from above 
 
 It lives when all the other loves have died. 
 The preacher spoke somewhat of this great love, 
 
 The price of our redemption from dread sin ; 
 Of Christ s descension from the realms above 
 
 And His ascension back to Heaven again, 
 And how His closest friends here on the Earth, 
 
 Friends whom He d walked with daily, and had 
 
 shown 
 The closest ties of friendship from His birth, 
 
 Denied, shamelessly, Him they d ever known ! 
 
 While he was dwelling on that solemn theme, 
 
 She thought of my great love and how replete 
 It is for her. and of our sweet love-dream, 
 
 Of her denial of me for old Discreet. 
 Her face was saddened by the solemn thought, 
 
 Of how I d loved and waited on her whim, 
 How she, my precious jewel, my love-bought, 
 
 Was now denying me as they did Him. 
 
 54
 
 JEALOUSY A TRUE TEST OF LOVE. 
 
 The preacher said we should not too much blame, 
 
 We should condone and pity all we can ; 
 That most of us, perhaps, would do the same 
 
 Twas but a human frailty of poor man. 
 I told her, with my eye, her I d not blame, 
 
 It was her duty, from a world s viewpoint, 
 That she, soci ty s belle, maintain her name, 
 
 The skeleton of Pride be kept anoint. 
 
 XIV. CONDONEMENT S SACRIFICE. 
 
 He preached on duty once, in its concrete : 
 
 "The zealous Christian should for lost souls 
 
 thirst;" 
 She went and knelt at that poor "rose-girl s" feet, 
 
 Too overcome to speak to her, at first ; 
 At last, when she had put her shame away, 
 
 She begged the girl her insult to condone, 
 To turn and make a start for Heaven that day, 
 
 To be her sister, help her reach "that home." 
 They sang some more, and waited in suspense ; 
 
 She agonized with God, her grief expressed, 
 And said : "O God, it is for my offense"- 
 
 And then the girl surrendered, and was blessed. 
 
 Oh how my soul rejoiced to see her work, 
 
 How nobly she had paid Condonement s price, 
 
 How grandlv filled her duty without shirk, 
 And led her erstwhile enemy to Christ ! 
 
 55
 
 AD-EM-NEL-LA. 
 
 And when she had resumed her usual place, 
 
 Replenished Discreet s crass, narcotic haze, 
 
 I gazed once more into her pensive face, 
 
 And gave her once again my meed of praise. 
 
 And then we drank, and drank, and drank of love ; 
 Her deep-cut eyes, of which I Ve often dreamed, 
 
 L,it up my soul with visions from above 
 
 The more we drank the more athirst we seemed. 
 
 XV. ENVY S MISSION. 
 
 Once, in an evil hour, there came to me, 
 
 Of her a whispered rumor one had heard, 
 A hint of something some one knew might be 
 
 A hint ! ten-fold more deadly than a word ; 
 A whispered hint such as may often rise, 
 
 In coarse stultiloquence that none may trace, 
 And, nursed and pampered to colossal size, 
 
 Becomes a stranger at its starting-place ; 
 A rumor starting in an idle jest, 
 
 Though it might be objurgated at, first, 
 By looks and whispers, to imply the rest, 
 
 Will soon, through circulation, do its worst ; 
 Though it be but hyperbole, abstract, 
 
 Yet, oft repeated, listened to, received, 
 It waxes strong, at length becomes a fact 
 
 (Or tantamount to fact) it is believed; 
 And having reached the potency of fact, 
 
 More acts, as innocent, are misconstrued ; 
 For Envy has a vital intrigue-pact, 
 
 Caballing the lascivious and lewd.
 
 ENVY S MISSION. 
 
 Old Envy and her sister Jealousy 
 
 On sickly rumor gloat and ruminate 
 Until its growth is fairly under way, 
 
 That their smooth tongues 10 may it disseminate; 
 They shoot their poisoned shafts from Falsehood s bow, 
 
 They revel in the discord they have sown, 
 They view their ripening fields of tares bend low, 
 
 And haste to reap a harvest of their own ; 
 That harvest based on damnable offense, 
 
 That crime devoid of every sense of shame, 
 Because it preys on spotless innocence, 
 
 And blackens, withers, pure, sweet woman s name. 
 
 And those two often sit with Innocence 
 
 About her festive board, with her to sip, 
 Devoid of every semblance of offense, 
 
 In simulated, soothing mock-friendship, 
 And, as the fairest flower of plain or field 
 
 May in its petals hold a poison vile, 
 They that ophid an poison hold, and yield 
 
 To him whom they would deign their sweetest 
 
 smile. 
 In evil hour, I said, there came to me 
 
 Aspersions which the Elect might deceive ; 
 I fought suspicion, seeking to be free, 
 
 My love for her so strong I dared believe. 
 Some weeks passed by before I saw her face 
 
 (How cumbrously old Time dragged those weeks 
 
 by!) 
 And then we met in our accustomed place, 
 
 And once again I looked into her eye ; 
 
 57
 
 AD-EM-NEL-LA. 
 
 And searching in that earnest, thoughtful eye, 
 The sacred and eternal truth to know, 
 
 When she had given me her mute reply, 
 
 I knew the black ning rumor was not so. 
 
 XVI. PANEGYRICS; THE LOVER S WAII,. 
 
 Her thoughtful, guileless face so tender, true 
 
 No face like that has ever yet been known, 
 A daintier baby-nose none ever knew ; 
 
 I long to make its owner soon my own. 
 Oh, that ambrosial osculum so sweet ! 
 
 That rich brown hair ! the contour of her face ! 
 A daintier girl I ne er expect to meet, 
 
 Embodiment is she of every grace ; 
 Her embonpoint, her heaving bosom fair, 
 
 Her modest taste, her lack of crass display, 
 Her buoyancy, her open, splendid air, 
 
 Can not be duplicated in this day. 
 Her mannerisms hold such charm for me, 
 
 I read in them her thoughts, her passions play ; 
 In every movement of her form I see 
 
 New beauties which endear her more each day. 
 
 Whatever rugged steeps in my pathway, 
 
 Howe er caliginous my path may prove, 
 I have a ready balm, panacea 
 
 I only need to think of her dear love. 
 Tis thoughts of her that banish every ill, 
 
 And from life s cares, vexations, me redeem, 
 Make my life one canorous canticle, 9 
 
 One sweet, romantic, glad, Utopian dream.
 
 PANEGYRICS. 
 
 My love makes her transparent like sunbeams ; 
 
 My soul but lacks her loving smile to cheer ; 
 She s empress in the palace of my dreams 
 
 How sad my heart when sad through love of her ! 
 I gaze into her eyes to see her soul, 
 
 I penetrate its depths with mystic kiss, 
 I feast upon the love I there behold ; 
 
 And God himself can give no greater bliss. 
 Her love is more to me, ten thousand fold, 
 
 Than all that s held in earth, in sky, in sea ; 
 To lie beside her in the tomb and hold 
 
 Her hand for aye were Heaven enough for me ! 
 
 Should old grim Death claim her ere he takes me, 
 
 To its necropolis her body bear, 
 Oh ! how could I, poor mortal, bear to see 
 
 My revered icon of her soul laid there ? 
 But e en that minatory cup I d drain, 
 
 Ten thousand nepenthes from Pluto s hand ; 
 I d rather die a thousand deaths in shame 
 
 Than have her love giv n to another man ! 
 
 What though, forsooth, she love some poor soul here, 
 
 Or he for her the tender passion feel ? 
 Such loves were evanescent I 11 not fear 
 
 Our bonds surpass eternal hooks of steel ! 
 And naught that may o ertake her, e en disgrace, 
 
 With all its whispered, scathing, venom sting, 
 Shall change my heart, or turn from her my face, 
 
 Or evil thought of her to me e er bring. 
 
 59
 
 AD-EM-NEL-LA. 
 
 Yea, though she s made an outcast among men, 
 
 Whom women draw their skirts aside to pass, 
 I 11 follow her e en to the Devil s Den, 
 
 And rescue my love-mate from him at last ; 
 For she and I are one souls of one Soul 
 
 Our souls in AD-EM-NEL-LA are combined ; 
 Together, while eternal cycles roll, 11 
 
 We 11 dwell, and fill the plan of Divine Mind. 
 
 XVII. THE LOVERS TRANSPORTED TO HEAVEN. 
 
 The preacher s audience was in command 
 
 On his last night, as if enwrapt in chains, 
 He held it with a dextrous, solid hand, 
 
 And carried it away to oth r domains. 
 He took us up into the realms above, 12 
 
 Where worlds were spread about us in array ; 
 While I still searched her deep black eyes for love, 
 
 And saw their lashes droop, them fade away. 
 He laid us on a cloud up in the skies ; 
 
 Her precious head was resting on my breast, 
 We were still gazing in each other s eyes, 
 
 And all was peace, and quietude, and rest. 
 
 We, from that bill wy cloud, were looking out, 
 And saw a wide sea of resplendent glass, 
 
 Translucent, iridescent all about; 
 
 And, here and there, we saw angels flit past. 
 
 60
 
 TRANSPORTED TO HEAVEN. 
 
 The firmament of glass extended far 
 
 Far out beyond where heaven s bow bends down 
 Its brilliancy and beauty none could mar, 
 
 And orange and purple seemed most to abound. 
 Then, from infinite distance, worlds came out 
 
 Like stars sometimes appear, with shimm ring 
 
 blink, 
 And from those worlds we heard redemption s shout 
 
 Twas sinners being rescued from the brink. 
 My hand was toying with her pretty hair, 
 
 Her sweet lips, then, to me, were nectar s cup, 
 Nous etions le plus heureux, lying there 
 
 The "Music of the Spheres" was starting up ; 
 Reverberations through the skies then broke 
 
 Her eyelash held on it a little tear 
 The symphonies of Worlds Ecstatic Stroke 
 
 In one glad anthem sounded far and near ; 
 The preacher s peroration was mixed in, 
 
 His voice was leading with soft alto note ; 
 Yet louder than all Hell s eternal din, 
 
 The Worlds Great Tympanum the music smote; 
 And louder than all this, and yet still higher, 
 
 There was a note which thrilled me far above : 
 It was her heaving breast, in mad desire 
 
 Twas begging me to give her yet more love ! 
 
 And then the the earthly audience transformed 
 
 Into an iridescent orchestra, 
 And souls came out from every world, new born, 
 
 It was All-Worlds Emancipation Day. 
 And with my eyes of gray I gazed away 
 
 Down into her blue-blacks, as they appealed ; 
 It was the forces of the "Blue and Gray" 
 
 Arrayed in contest on Love s battle-field. 
 
 61
 
 AD-EM-NEL-LA. 
 
 And as the strains of music, sweeter still 
 
 Than all the glad ning symphonies of Earth, 
 Resounded from those other worlds to thrill 
 
 Those blood-washed souls now filled by that new 
 
 birth, 
 More angels still came out from stars unknown, 
 
 In glad acclaim saluting redeemed man ; 
 And all the Universe, e en God s great throne, 
 
 Was throbbing, trembling like a great organ ; 
 Across the heavens, like a bow, there spanned 13 
 
 A music staff of j asperated gold, 
 Along the staff there ran the Master s hand, 
 
 To point out notes, the music-sheets unfold. 
 It was an Eisteddfod from every sphere, 
 
 Uranus, Jupiter, Mars, all the rest ; 
 Echoing music came from everywhere, 
 
 It was an universal technique test. 
 
 The choir, perhaps in Mars, would sing one bar, 
 
 The Pleiades strike in with choir or band, 
 The refrain then perhaps from hot Dog-star 
 
 While she smiled on and still held to my hand. 
 Their voices compass was infinitude, 
 
 They "heavy-pedaled" with the thunder s tone ; 
 We were with proper hearing powers endued ; 
 
 Each world attuned its thunder to its zone. 14 
 
 The music wafted us up to the throne, 
 
 Our Conclave was in session on that day ; 
 
 We entered in to mingle with our own, 
 
 And our old friends a friendly visit pay. 
 
 62
 
 AD-EM-NEL-LA. 
 
 XVIII. THE; HEAVENLY MARRIAGE. 
 
 The Conclave s High Priest married us that day, 
 
 All elements of our Soul were combined 
 The session had become a holiday, 
 
 Somewhat like a carousal mong mankind ; 
 We had a hundred bridesmaids, all arrayed 
 
 In creations not yet dreamed of by "Worth" ; 
 She wore the finest trousseau ever made, 
 
 No gowns so thin can e er be seen on Earth ; 
 Our bridesmen were the Conclave s select set, 
 
 All revel-rounders, paladins la mode; 
 We made of it the grandest wedding yet, 
 
 In palaces Elysian we tangoed. 
 Here is a list of guests, from which you 11 see 
 
 The names of only those most recherche 
 Were: Sir-ub-ba-bull, Wa-lah, Six-times-three, 
 
 Sab-bo-ni, Shab-bu-lum, Xi-Xon, Tu-bay; 
 
 O, Gu-ba-la-o-um, Adown-a-ram, 
 
 Hy-rum G. Biff, Lii-bur-tees, Let-nay-ii ; 
 
 Siaa-sus-zaza-ra-sii, Shab-ii-ran, 
 
 Ha-her-shal-ahl-hash, Sheth-shar-boz-nai ; 
 
 Sa-do-nal, Bib-lem, He-bel, Sha-shush-shar, 
 Hen-dy-ah, Hen-dake, Sabod-zabod-done ; 
 
 Stole-skin, Re-vaugh, Haul-kol, Re-han, Hu-har; 
 And ceremonial master Chaw-raw-bone.
 
 AD-EM-NEL-LA. 
 
 The Conclave s wedding-feast was le plus grand, 
 But all proceedings there we dare not tell ; 
 
 I long, again in them, to take a hand ; 
 
 From Man they are a secret guarded well. 
 
 We were remanded then to earthly life, 
 
 That the celestial marriage be confirmed, 
 
 That we take on the name "husband and wife" 
 Then that ineffable Conclave adjourned. 
 
 XIX. HER EUROPEAN TRIP. 
 
 The vision past, the heav nly marriage o er, 
 
 I learned, next day, that she was to be sent 
 Across the ocean to a foreign shore, 
 
 And placed in college, or perhaps convent. 
 Old Rumor did not know the reason why 
 
 Was made this change so sudden and complete, 
 Unless some craze had seized her family, 
 
 Or it had been the work of old Discreet. 
 I waited on old Rumor several days, 
 
 And courted her to find out all, perchance, 
 That might leak out in divers, sundry ways, 
 
 Until I learned that she was going to France. 
 She was to take a college course in part ; 
 
 A year in dress-technique was to be spent, 
 Some four years in the languages and art, 
 
 And then she d travel bout the Continent. 
 
 64
 
 HER EUROPEAN TRIP. 
 
 How I survived that news its awful shock, 
 
 Can never be expressed, except in part ; 
 Attempt to paint its bale is but to mock 
 
 That fulminating sorrow in my heart. 
 Though I rejoiced that she could well afford 
 
 To go and drink from Learning s fountain-head, 
 Where cumulated centuries had stored 
 
 The wisdom of the living and the dead, 
 On Honor s proud escutcheon write her name, 
 
 The citadels of Wisdom s gods assail, 
 And promenade historic halls of fame 
 
 With Mmes. "Sand," SeVigne" and de Stael, 
 I felt that I should never see her more, 
 
 Our sun was set mid clouds of bitter gloom, 
 Discreet was op ning wide for her Death s door, 
 
 Her trip to Europe was but to the tomb ! 
 
 The day she took the train to go away, 
 
 Her friends had gathered there to shake her hand, 
 And say to her : "God speed the happy day 
 
 When you shall come back to, your native land." 
 Her father, she and select friends, a few, 
 
 Were there before the train was due to start, 
 To check the baggage, do what was to do, 
 
 And I was there with wounded, broken heart. 
 
 Perhaps you ve waited for a train to start 
 
 That was to bear away your brother friend, 
 And felt that dull suspense before you part, 
 
 In which all conversation seems to end ; 
 That lull in which there s nothing left to say, 
 
 That moment when youi; feelings seem too deep, 
 When you. from all. would rather steal away 
 
 To privacy where Modesty might weep.
 
 AD-EM-NEL-LA. 
 
 Where you may hold his hand in friendly grip, 
 
 Impress a kiss upon his tear-stained cheeks, 
 Ambrosial drafts from Friendship s calix sip, 
 
 And feel that eloquence that silence speaksl 
 If so, you ve had a faint taste of that day. 
 
 You hoped, howe er, you d see your friend again, 
 Twas only friend or kinsman going away ; 
 
 She s more than all this world friends, kith and 
 kin ! 15 
 
 I could not speak to her, but I could look, 
 
 I gazed upon her face and marked it well, 
 It seemed I could not that dread ordeal brook, 
 
 But yet I stood an inert sentinel. 
 And when her friends had bidden her good-bye, 
 
 And that lugubrious lull hung like a pall, 
 I got a chance to gaze into her eye, 
 
 And we, together, drank that cup of gall ! 
 We both held back our tears strove to be brave, 
 
 We steeled ourselves, our feelings to defy ; 
 It seemed we stood there by her open grave, 
 
 Her trunk the coffin in which she must lie ! 
 
 I thought how much more dear was she to me 
 
 Than all the world beside ; how Heaven sends 
 Such ties; and yet we dared, most stupidly, 
 
 Not let the world know we were even friends. 
 When she shook hands with all her friends but me, 
 
 And I stood there unrecognized, alone, 
 An outcast, stigmatized, in infamy, 
 
 It was the saddest day I d ever known. 
 
 66
 
 HER EUROPEAN TRIP. 
 
 Then she entrained and sat where she could see, 
 
 And, as the train moved out, she caught my eye, 
 And, smote as by some Thespian phantasy, 
 
 The tears burst from her eyes she had to cry. 
 And in that vast concourse all eyes were dry, 
 
 No tear was shed except by her and me. 
 How little heeds the world as we pass by, 
 
 How sacred love, when true love s found, should 
 be! 
 
 Three days of waiting, anxious, critical, 
 
 A message was received that told the tale ; 
 They d wirelessed from a New York hospital : 
 
 "Your daughter s here not booked too sick to 
 
 sail." 
 That message was, to me, ten wires in one 
 
 Projectile larger, than its mortar s bore 
 Twas like a German minenwurfer gun ; 
 
 It told me that her Paris trip was o er; 
 It told me she could not leave me so far, 
 
 Twould not be long till she and I would meet, 
 Her love for me the aegis Gibraltar 
 
 Twas but another ruse to fool Discreet. 
 It told me she, at last, had had her way, 
 
 That Love was in the race, would reach the goal ; 
 Oh, how it gladdened me, and filled, that day, 
 
 The sacred penetralia of my soul ! 
 
 XX. TURMOILS OF THE PROSAIC WORLD. 
 
 Her French trip o er, one day I took my place 
 
 Upon the street where she most often goes ; 
 Her brother stopped and struck me in the face, 
 Then drew a long dirk knife from neath his 
 clothes. 
 
 67
 
 TURMOILS OF THIS PROSAIC WO 
 
 He rushed upon me, with the knife, and struck, 
 
 But, in some way, I snatched it from his hand; 16 
 It happened in an instant, was pure luck, 
 
 iFor he s, in point of strength, the better man. 
 When we were pulled apart, and he d sunk down, 17 
 
 He seemed to be in his last gasps for life, 
 His blood was running out upon the ground ; 18 
 
 There, in my hand, they saw the bloody knife ! 
 
 For several days the prejudice ran high, 
 
 The facts suppressed, deleted inch by inch ; 19 
 At night small squads of strange men hovered nigh, 
 
 They wanted me turned over to "Judge Lynch." 
 One night the mob sought me with fire and smoke 
 
 They failed to find me, but they burned my 
 
 home ; 20 
 It was for them, or me, a lucky stroke 
 
 That I, that night, had gone to parts unknown. 
 
 When court came on, the lawyers were arrayed 
 
 On both sides of the case lined up in tiers ; 
 "Attempt to murder" was the charge they made, 
 
 The punishment for which was twenty years. 
 Her brother swore that I jerked out a knife 
 
 And cut him several times without a cause, 
 And that he surely would have lost his life 
 
 Had not the crowd rescued him from Death s 
 
 jaws ; 
 The others swore that we were interlocked, 
 
 The first they noticed, and were "milling round" ; 
 That they pulled us apart, and were then shocked 
 
 To see his bloody clothes, as he sank down. 
 
 68
 
 AD-EM-NEL-LA 
 
 She sat beside her brother through the trial, 
 
 She never lowed me, once, to catch her eye. 21 
 There is no punishment like her denial ; 
 
 I cared not whether I might live or die ! 
 No "motive" for the crime was ever shown, 
 
 I would not go upon the stand and swear, 22 
 I would not let their lawyers, nor my own, 
 
 Know aught of our sweet, secret love-affair. 23 
 
 Their lawyers whispered, several times, aloud, 
 
 As they leaned o er the tables to confer, 
 Until they had the jury and the crowd 
 
 Believe it grew from my insulting her. 
 One lawyer said, in arguing their case : 
 
 "I shall defend the woman of our land, 
 I dare to tell the criminal to his face 
 
 That he who can t defend her is no man, 
 And though they cut and stab me to the heart, 
 
 They can, by that, take from me only life ; 
 I swear that I shall ever take her oart 
 
 They shall not smirch my sister, nor my wife !" 
 
 When all the lawyers 24 had poured out their flood 
 
 Of bosh, and had the jury raging wild, 
 The audience was clam ring for my blood 
 
 Cries from the crowd came up : The Pen s too 
 
 mild!"** 
 Then she arose and hurried to my side ; 25 
 
 She held my hand, our love-pact to renew ; 
 She looked the jury in the face and cried : 
 
 "When you send him away, you II send me too!" 
 
 69
 
 TURMOILS OF THIS WICKED WORLD. 
 
 "I 11 wear the prison stripes work by his side, 
 
 His twenty years of punishment I 11 share ; 
 And when his time is served, I 11 be his BRIDE 
 
 God knows he s innocent, and He 11 be there. 
 My brother carried this knife every day 
 
 He carried it to kill the man I love ; 
 I begged him, prayed with him that he might stay 
 
 His hand, or it be parried from Above ; 
 I saw my brother strike him the first blow, 
 
 I saw him draw the knife and plunge it, and 
 I watched them from my window, and I know 
 
 I saw the knife snatched from my brother s hand." 
 
 The crowd then changed its attitude, and cheered, 26 
 Congratulations came e en from Discreet, 
 
 Such deafening shouts were scarcely ever heard ; 
 The jury said, "Not guilty!" 27 from its seat. 
 
 Somebody "made a motion" that we wed, 
 
 The audience "went crazy" to a man ; 
 The ceremonial by the judge was read, 
 
 Her brother kissed my WIFE, and shook my hand! 
 And as I kissed her my first time she said : 
 
 "We speak now, dear, for our first time in life; 
 A PANTOMIMIC COURTSHIP till we re wed 
 
 A most romantic mode to win a wife." 
 
 And, as our bridal train was "pulling out," 
 
 She caught a parting glance of old Discreet, 
 
 And, as she hugged my neck, they heard her shout : 
 "Oh, Mr. AD-EM-NEL-I,A, your re so sweet!" 
 
 70
 
 AD-EM-NEL-LA. 
 
 Next day, while still aboard our bridal train, 
 
 (We had a modern bride s coach, all complete^) 
 There came, of telegrams, a constant rain 
 
 From our old friends, as well as old Discreet. 
 They wired congratulations, pardon free, 
 
 They wired me entree to high social rank ; 
 The bank directors wired, and tendered me 
 
 The presidency of her brother s bank! 
 
 XXL ADDENDUM. 
 
 Twelve months from that eventful, crucial day, 
 Months of sweet, consummated love replete, 
 
 That happy, care-free girl had had her way 
 Her fortune had put me on Easy Street! 29 
 
 The End of Story. 
 
 Qu il eut ete. 
 
 If this had been a tale of modern day, 
 
 It would, of course, not yet have been complete ; 
 But, in the last line, would have had to say : 
 
 "She named our BABY BOY for old Discreet."
 
 "MADE IN THE U. S. A." 
 
 72
 
 SHORT POEMS. 
 
 73
 
 MY MOTHER S INITIAL PRAYER. 
 
 NOTE. Like many of the old-fashioned mothers 
 in the dear old mountain valleys of East Tennessee, in 
 the long-ago, my mother had a different prayer for each 
 of her numerous children. She composed a set prayer 
 for each child, made up of sentences whose initial let 
 ters represented the letters of the given child s name, 
 so that when she wished to pray for one of the chil 
 dren, she had to think only of the letters in his name, 
 and his prayer would come easily to her memory. 
 Having so many children, there would have been, 
 otherwise, great confusion. 
 
 These prayers were called the children s "lines," 
 and each child knew its "lines." Sometimes a bright 
 child could repeat the "lines" of all the children of the 
 family. 
 
 We were taught to repeat our "lines" over and 
 over (like incantations), to ward off the tempter, and 
 save us harmless from sin, when under temptation. 
 
 Most of the children s "lines" used in those days 
 were pretty well sprinkled with invocations relative to 
 the parent s duty not to "spare the rod." My mother 
 never spared it, as I can testify "with truth." The 
 following are the "lines" she made and used for me. 
 
 Those old-fashioned mothers believed in living, 
 
 before their children, the life they would inculcate, 
 
 rather than telling them how to live and what to be. 
 
 I am thankful for the old-fashioned mothers, their 
 
 old-fashioned prayers, and their old-fashioned lives. 
 
 ALLENHURST. 
 
 74
 
 MY MOTHER S INITIAL PRAYER. 
 
 A LMIGHTY FATHER, Thou to me hast sent 
 ** This precious boy from Thy Infinite Womb, 
 
 T OANED him to me, as Thou the talents lent, 
 And made me answerable for his doom ! 
 
 T ET not Thy weak handmaiden fluster Thee, 
 Nor fail to execute Thy holy trust ; 
 
 lp EN as my love for him, be Thine for me, 
 Yet hold me to my duty as Thou must 
 
 "^ OR let me, by the serpent, be beguiled 
 
 To "spare the rod" and thereby "spoil the child." 
 
 ILJ ELP me to teach him, as Thou me hast taught, 
 Through kindly love yea, even punishment ; 
 
 T T PHOLD and strengthen me that I, in naught, 
 May shirk my duty, or it circumvent. 
 
 O EVEAL Thyself to him through my lived life, 
 
 Made strong and pure as Thou wouldst have 
 him be ; 
 
 C AVE me from guile and sinfulness so rife, 
 
 Since he must be whate er Thou makest me. 
 
 TPO me ne er let him say, with truth, O God, 
 
 I spoiled the child by having spared the rod. 
 
 75
 
 LA MENTIRA. 
 
 NOTE. This poem was written by the author for 
 the Spanish papers, and published in La Prensa of 
 San Antonio, Texas, the leading Spanish newspaper 
 in the United States, in the issue of March the I4th, 
 1915, under the following complimentary editorial : 
 
 "MUSA AMERICANA. 
 
 "Un antiguo suscritor de La Prensa, norte-amer- 
 icano de nacionalidad, pero que gusta de cultivar el 
 idioma de Cervantes, ha escrito, en espanol, los versos 
 que publicamos a continuation y que le fueron inspir- 
 idos por la lectura de un bello articulo de Amado 
 Nervo, que aparecio hace dias en las columnas de este 
 diario. 
 
 "La composicion de que se trata puede tener de- 
 fectos a los ojos de la critica ; pero nosotros estimamos 
 que por tratarse de un extranjero, sincere admirador 
 de nuestro idioma, el esfuerzo es muy meritorio y muy 
 digno de estimulo y aplauso. 
 
 "He aqui la composicion a que nos referimos :" 
 
 76
 
 LA MENTIRA. 
 
 Oh Falsedad ! Los que te aman creen 
 Que amarte constituye una ventura ! 
 
 La Verdad es objeto de desden 
 
 Cuando no es expresion de la hermosura. 
 
 Pari mi lo que es falso, pero bello 
 
 Halaga mis muy anhelos ; 
 Una chispa de luz, que es un destello 
 
 De la enorme mentira de los cielos, 
 Es mas grata a mi espiritu sensible 
 
 Que la Verdad desnuda e incognocible. 
 
 El disco nacarado de la luna, 
 
 El azul sin igual del firmamento, 
 
 Mentiras son : Amor, Placer, Fortuna, 
 Desangano, Dolor y Sufrimiento, 
 
 No arrancarian acordes a la lira 
 
 Si no fueran trasuntos de Mentira. 
 
 Si no hubiera Mentira, si no hubiera 
 Esa ilusion que lo trasforma todo, 
 
 El amor de los sexos no existiera, 
 iNi fuera dable combinar el modo 
 
 De dar al Arte la expresion que plugo 
 Al genio sin igual de Victor Hugo. 
 
 (Over.) 
 
 77
 
 LA MENTIRA. Cont. 
 
 Nada existe en la vida que no sea 
 
 Dulce ilusion del corazon humano ; 
 Todo lo que sugiera alguna idea, 
 
 Todo lo que se esconde en el arcano, 
 Todo lo que fecunda y lo que crea 
 
 En el Cosmos del Genio soberano, 
 Es grosero y trivial, si no inspira 
 
 En la dulce ilusion de la Mentira. 
 
 ALLEN HURST.
 
 POOR LEDA GOODBIN. 
 
 The chums of proud Fred Grant had left for home, 
 
 And Fred was chasing a wild-turkey flock 
 Across a thickly brambled wood, when he, 
 
 Unwittingly, fell o er a large cliff-rock. 
 Fair Leda Goodbin passing, in her car, 
 
 Along the road which ran near the cascade, 
 Was frightened by the young man s piteous groans, 
 
 And hastened to his side to give him aid. 
 
 The man, unconscious when she reached his side, 
 
 Was murm ring wildly, as if in a dream; 
 The brave girl, equal to the arduous task, 
 
 Lifted and dragged him into her machine. 
 She took him to her home her father s house, 
 
 Stood by his bedside left him ne er alone 
 She nursed him back to consciousness and health, 
 
 Till he was well enough to be sent home. 
 
 Before he left he d gazed into her eyes, 
 
 And read a secret there, sacred, hoar-grown ; 
 And she, responsive to the sacred law, 
 
 Had, likewise, read the heart that knew her own. 
 And though it was their first taste of true love, 
 
 And opportunities to speak but few, 
 Clandestinely purloined in "ma s" absence, 
 
 No words were necessary they both knew. 
 
 (Over.) 
 
 79
 
 POOR LEDA GOODBIN. Cont. 
 
 For when the destined man and woman meet, 
 
 The secret needs no language to unfold, 
 Except that universal tongue all read 
 
 That sacred, living language of the Soul. 
 Fate brings to us that boon, that First Love Dream, 
 
 Naught in this world so sweet has e er been known, 
 Oh, how it thrills one s heart to feel, to know: 
 
 The heart one craves likewise longs for one s own ! 
 
 Although it was not mentioned, he well knew, 
 
 When last he pressed her hand to go away, 
 Whatever might befall, if life remained, 
 
 He d come to claim her as his wife some day. 
 And she, likewise, was conscious of his love, 
 
 It thrilled her whole soul when she touched his 
 
 hand; 
 She knew that, whether he came back or not, 
 
 This world would hold, for her, no other man. 
 
 Vacation past, Fred was in school once more, 
 
 And working hard, "with all his might and main," 
 That he might finish up his course that term. 
 
 And go to seek his "dear cliff-girl" again. 
 And, some weeks later, Leda, also, went 
 
 Away to college in another State ; 
 (Her sister Dell was there when Fred got hurt,) 
 
 And this was Leda s year to graduate. 
 
 (Over.} 
 
 80
 
 POOR LEDA GOODBIN. Cont. 
 
 And those two lovers, though far, far apart, 
 
 Together dwelt in spirit night and day, 
 And Fancy s eye and Hope s sweet music held 
 
 Love s spirit-dream in glad, ecstatic sway. 
 He thought of her who d given back his life, 
 
 And with his life her love, the double gift ; 
 Her thought dwelt on that bloodless face of him 
 
 Whom she found lying dead at the big cliff! 
 
 He did not know that Leda was in school, 
 
 But she was hustling to keep up with Fred ; 
 
 While making her class-dress she vowed that she 
 Would wear it both to graduate and wed. 
 
 His college term closed first, he hurried back 
 To see his "Lita" his diploma show ; 
 
 He met her mother at the gate, who said : 
 
 "My daughter is quite sick is very low." 
 
 Old Mrs. Goodbin had forgotten him, 
 
 Until he spoke of that cliff incident ; 
 He was admitted, then, to see "the girl," 
 
 Who was "unconscious now, and almost spent." 
 Oh, how it hurt him when he saw the change 
 
 In Leda (as he thought) in one short year! 
 How pitiable when that poor boy bent 
 
 To whisper love into her deadened ear ! 
 
 Fate must have veiled her face for sheer remorse, 
 (For Fate must know the future and the past.) 
 
 When poor Dell answered him, unconsciously : 
 
 "My Knight ! my Knight has come to me at last !" 
 
 (Over.} 
 81
 
 POOR LEDA GOODBIN. Con/. 
 
 And put her weak, emaciated arms 
 
 About that poor boy s stalwart, trembling frame, 
 And mumbled with her heavy, panting breath : 
 
 "My Knight ! my Knight shall ne er leave me 
 
 again 
 
 He volunteered to take the mother s place, 
 
 And help to rest her till the girl got well ; 
 He said he never, in life, would forget 
 
 How they all treated him the time he fell. 
 He stood beside Dell s sick-bed day and night, 
 
 And courted her and nursed her back to life, 
 And made her promise that, when she got well, 
 
 She d be his "own dear, precious, little wife. 
 
 As soon as she could walk about the floor, 
 
 He argued they should marry while twas cool ; 
 She promised she would marry him "next week," 
 
 Her "sister would be home, by then, from school." 
 And Leda came while Fred was gone to town, 
 
 As he came back he met her face to face; 
 She stood beside the gate, expectantly, 
 
 And seemed the only one about the place. 
 
 They stood and looked into each other s eyes 
 
 How long? Oh ! ask me not ; Love knows not 
 
 Time. 
 It was a scene pathetic, sad, forlorn ; 
 
 It was romantic oh, it was sublime ! 
 She cried aloud, she fell into his arms, 
 
 He pressed her to his heart without dismay ; 
 And then, as if they d just thought what they d done, 
 
 He loosed her and she ran quickly away. 
 
 (Over.) 
 82
 
 POOR LEDA GOODBIN. Cont. 
 
 Fred sat in the pergola all alone 
 
 Xlntil a very late hour in the night, 
 Was thinking, pond ring it o er, in his mind, 
 
 How he had gotten into such a plight. 
 He had an aunt Dell they called "Dellita," 
 
 The "ita" meaning "little," "pretty, " "well" ; 
 And he remembered that he d thought of her 
 
 When Mrs. Goodbin called her daughter "Dell." 
 
 He d thought, instead of saying "Dellita," 
 
 They d simply used the suffix to her name ; 
 And thus he never had suspected but 
 
 That Dell and "Lita" (Leda) were the same. 
 Names of endearment, like this one, are used 
 
 In most our homes he no attention paid ; 
 He did not e en suspect there were two girls, 
 
 Till after the engagement had been made ! 
 
 Late in the night he went into his room, 
 
 He past by Leda s door she had not slept ; 
 He sat beside his bed for hours, alone 
 
 In Contemplation s grasp the vigil kept. 
 Twas nearly morning, and the moon was low, 
 
 He saw her standing at his door still dressed ; 
 He kneeled, in reverence, there by her side, 
 
 And pressed his aching head against her breast. 
 
 (Over.)
 
 POOR LEDA GOODBIN. Cont. 
 
 She stroked his hair gave him that tender touch 
 
 No other woman in this world can give ; 
 They then arose and went out to the grounds. 
 
 She said : " Tis June how sweet it is to live !" 
 And then they walked among the flowers and talked. 
 
 He argued they must flee flee far away ; 
 That they had no more time to waste in talk, 
 
 Twas now the time to act twas almost day. 
 
 (She:) 
 
 "We must not go it will not, will not do ; 
 
 Twould kill poor Dell to have you leave her now. 
 She s told me everything she loves you too ; 
 
 You must not go ; oh, you must keep your vow ! 
 Poor w.oman must delete that sad mistake 
 
 Its penalty be paid by her, by me. 
 Your promise binds you, whatsoe er you would ; 
 
 Oh, cruel, cruel Fate ! tis her decree." 
 
 (He:) 
 
 "It is not Fate s decree, it is Mistake s ; 
 
 If it were Fate s, I could not, would not shirk. 
 There is not one sole element of wrong, 
 
 (Mistake, by law, e er vitiates its work.) 
 If either you or she must pay the debt, 
 
 H,et her, sweetheart ; she took the greater part. 
 I can not, shall not, dare not give you up, 
 
 You are my complement your heart, my heart." 
 
 (Over.) 
 
 84
 
 POOR LEDA GOODBIN. Con/. 
 
 (She:) 
 
 "But Dell loves me has ever found me true ; 
 
 Can I betray her now she it condone? 
 Oh, it would taint our children s children s blood, 
 
 They d bear the curse a hundred years to come !" 
 
 (He:} 
 
 "Think not of Dell, you must first save yourself, 
 
 For Nature s law, in wisdom, made that plan ; 
 You love me more than she, I you than her 
 
 You were my own before the world began ! 
 I loved her not, twas love for you through her 
 
 Disease s cruel veil obscured my view ; 
 Her body, the frail casket, I ignored, 
 
 It was the soul I sought I thought twas you. 
 When she has known the depth of love you bear, 
 
 Her love will fly away will set her free ; 
 She 11 be our happy, care-free sister then, 
 
 She 11 recognize, she 11 bow to Fate s decree." 
 
 And thus he urged, and thus she him refused. 
 
 She said : "We must go in ; tis almost day." 
 She kissed his tears away, and stroked his brow, 
 
 And said : "Good-bye, my love ; good-bye for 
 aye!" 
 
 Poor Fred then went to bed, and morning came ; 
 
 Her bed had not been touched, nor was she found. 
 That day thev searched down in the river-bed 
 
 Poor little, faithful Leda had been drowned!
 
 THE HAGUE S GREAT PEACE PALACE. 
 
 The Nations built their great Palladium of Peace 
 sublime, 
 
 Where all the nations of the earth might worship at 
 its shrine, 
 
 Where each might lay her panoplies of war on funer 
 al s pyre, 
 
 And send them up as sweet incense, purged in its holy 
 fire; 
 
 Where arbitration of all claims and questions might be 
 made, 
 
 And nation nation meet and greet, the hand of War be 
 stayed ; 
 
 All armaments be cast away, War s preparation cease, 
 
 And Heaven send her recompense of Universal Peace ! 
 
 Vain hope. The law of constant war warfare with 
 out surcease, 
 
 Is older than Mount Sinai s law of universal peace ; 
 
 It is the law by which Fate must Earth s progeny 
 transmit 
 
 Down through the ages of the world "Survival of the 
 Fit" 
 
 And though the river-bed of Meuse be filled with 
 blood, forsooth. 
 
 Ruthlessly poured out from the veins of Europe s 
 flower and youth, 
 
 Earth will replace each warrior slain with ten who are 
 as great, 
 
 Tis the Requital ; Evolution s Primal Law of Fate ! 
 
 (Over.} 
 
 86
 
 THE HAGUE S GREAT PEACE PALACE. Cont. 
 
 We may pervert the sacred books, false inferences 
 
 draw, 
 We do but mock God s wisdom when we tamper with 
 
 His law ; 
 And though we may build palaces of peace in every 
 
 land, 
 We can not hold back can not stay War s ruthless, 
 
 bloody hand; 
 For every stem and blade of grass, its rootlet, bud, and 
 
 flower, 
 And every bee, and bug, and worm, and man, and 
 
 corp rate power, 
 From weak microbe, to great World-power, with all 
 
 its brain and brawn, 
 Is crowded to its limit the Eternal War is on ! 
 
 Had we the power to modify His unchangeable plan, 
 We d lose the Race, because of our solicitude for man ; 
 Incentive and Endeavor, both, would perish in a day! 
 All Enterprise, Exertion cease, all Nations would 
 
 decay, 
 All fact ries, mines, marts, shops, and offices would 
 
 close, and then 
 Would Hunger stalk abroad, to fill her maw with idle 
 
 men. 
 
 EPILOGUE. 
 
 Let s pray for vitalizing war, (let peace enthusiasts 
 
 rave,) 
 When Greed and Exploitation cease, man seeks his 
 
 Primal Cave!
 
 OLD HUERTA S GOT TO GO. 
 
 We have a sister, neighbor, 
 
 Now in war s bloody throe ; 
 All industry all labor 
 
 Has ceased there long-a-go, 
 
 The country s homes are blighted, 
 The people are affrighted ; 
 Oh ! would the wrong be righted 
 If we took Mexico? 
 
 Some say : "Let s send our soldier, 
 
 Let s let the khakis go ; 
 They re anxious, now, to shoulder 
 Arms for the foreign foe 
 
 Let s let them go and fight er, 
 Let s send the fire to blight er ; 
 They can not hope to right er, 
 Let s invade Mexico." 
 
 "The country s rich as Croesus/ 
 
 Above ground and below, 
 Too much eold there for greasers, 
 It suits the brave gringo 
 
 Now is the time to jump er, 
 Let s trump er, plump er, bump er, 
 Let s glide down there and thump er, 
 Let s scoop Old Mexico." 
 
 {Over.) 
 
 88
 
 OLD HUERTA S GOT TO GO. Cont. 
 
 But w e say send Carranza 
 
 (IV e are: I and Woodrow,) 
 And Villa, they 11 get Huerta 
 
 And yank him out, you know 
 
 Let s let them go and punch im, 
 They 11 hunch im, munch im, crunch im ; 
 Oh, how they long to scrunch im ! 
 Old Huerta knows it s so. 
 
 The "A. B. C. Alliance" 
 
 We fear will be no go, 
 Because of his defiance 
 
 The Right can have no show 
 Let s let Carranza bat im, 
 Let s let old Villa at J im ; 
 They re waiting now to spat im, 
 Let s let em go, Woodrow. 
 
 He has not yet saluted 
 
 Our flag, when we said so ; 
 But that need not be mooted, 
 
 Tis Peace we want, you know 
 Let s send Villa to snap im 
 He 11 tap im, flap im, sap im, 
 He s not afraid to scrap im, 
 Old Huerta s got too slow. 
 
 (Over.} 
 
 89
 
 OLD HUERTA S GOT TO GO. Cont. 
 
 We re Mexico s "big brother," 
 We want to see her grow ; 
 She must not dance another, 
 With Huerta, in tango 
 
 We ve now let Fletcher flout im, 
 Let s clout im, rout im, scout im, 
 Let s whip the stuffin out im ; 
 Old Huerta s got to go ! 
 
 FLOWER SEEDS. 
 
 I kissed you once flower seeds were sown 
 
 In my heart s garden-plot ; 
 
 I whispered love to you, my own 
 
 Ah ! have you, yet, forgot 
 
 What myriads of flowers there grew, 
 Tended with thoughts only of you ? 
 
 Is there not grown in thy heart s-plot, 
 For me, one wee Forget-me-not? 
 
 90
 
 MY VISION. 
 
 (As seen by Allenhurst.) 
 
 I looked and saw afloat upon the surface of the sea 
 
 Of human fate, and human hope, and human destiny, 
 
 The silhouette of one who stood, tall as the bending 
 sky, 
 
 A woman, nude, too beautiful, too fair for human eye. 
 
 The nations of the earth rushed madly after her the 
 while, 
 
 Enamored of her beauty, poise, her dignity and smile ; 
 
 She was bedecked with ornaments, diamonds and ru 
 bies rare, 
 
 Her name : "Commercialism," on a jewel in her hair. 
 
 She had a look/ of greed, exploit, her breath was like 
 the gall, 
 
 She showed herself the courtesan, and flirted with 
 them all. 
 
 She had three clutching, bony hands, and three gigantic 
 
 arms, 
 
 She poisoned every Nation, every victim of her charms. 
 She carried three huge flaming torches, each enormous 
 
 size, 
 And threw their glaring lights athwart the low ring, 
 
 Stygian skies. 
 
 (Over.}
 
 MY VISION. Cont. 
 
 The torches were "corruptions," and she held one in 
 
 each hand, 
 And waved them, like enchantment wands, o er every 
 
 sea and land. 
 The first torch was designed to clutch and poison 
 
 Patriotism ; 
 The second torch to do its work through crass 
 
 Fanaticism ; 
 The bane for Law and Statesmanship, the last torch 
 
 she unfurled 
 
 "By base corruption, with these three, she d purify 
 the world." 
 
 The First Torch. 
 
 The waving of her first torch was the signal for on 
 slaught, 
 And no such war has ever been, such battles ever 
 
 fought ; 
 The Allied nations, and Entente, drew help from every 
 
 clime, 
 It was the last war to be fought, the bloodiest of all 
 
 time! 
 Such brutal carnage ne er was known ne er since the 
 
 world began 
 And human blood all o er the face of stricken Europe 
 
 ran. 
 
 Then from the north a new a peace Napoleon appears, 
 He comes of Anglo-Saxon blood, he s old, though 
 
 young in years. 
 
 (Over.) 
 
 92
 
 MY VISION. Cont. 
 
 The Second Torch. 
 
 Hypocrisy and Bigotry the second torch flame bore, 
 And sowed the seeds Fanaticism, Falsity, galore ; 
 Enkindled in the minds of man, from cradle to the 
 
 grave, 
 
 False ideas, false ethics ; and humanity enslaved. 
 The Church was broken down destroyed, Morality 
 
 declined.; 
 And then arose that great Mongolian Slav who was 
 
 designed 
 
 To clear Monotheistic relics from the world, and lay 
 The corner-stone of Pantheism s temple, in his day. 
 Then God, the Soul, the Spirit and all Immortality 
 Were molten in the furnace to begin the New Era ! 
 
 The Third Torch. 
 
 And then was thrown aloft the flame, the third torch 
 
 was deployed, 
 The Moral and Art standards and the Family Ties 
 
 destroyed. 
 Then conies from Latin ranks the destined hero en 
 
 "Commercialism" yields her place to Symbolism s 
 sway. 
 
 (Over.) 
 
 93
 
 MY VISION. Cont. 
 
 Sex Partnership Prosaic and Degenerated Art 
 
 No more will sway the nations of the Earth, they ve 
 
 played their part 
 The world is purged and given a new life, forth from 
 
 this day, 
 
 Polygamy, Monogamy become Poet-ogamy. 
 Commercialism s reign is o er, the world is purged of 
 
 sins, 
 There s Universal Peace, and the New History begins. 
 
 Sequitur. 
 
 The old world s kindoms and empires depleted and 
 
 destroyed, 
 "UNITED NATIONS OF THE WORLD," the new-coined 
 
 name employed 
 And all the world becomes One Power with four giants 
 
 in control, 
 And these four giants are : Anglo-Saxon, Latin, Slav, 
 
 Mongol. 
 
 94
 
 HAZARDLETS. 
 
 Little steam-puff cloudlets 
 
 Linger bout the sky, 
 Sky-fields white with daisies, 
 
 Blooming heaven high, 
 You aride in star s gold car, 
 Like other stars that motor far 
 
 Mong blooms heaven-nigh. 
 
 Hazardous for star-prince, 
 
 If he linger nigh, 
 Cupid dart may pierce him, 
 
 Shot from hazel eye ; 
 Star-prince, then, of sky and air, 
 Be wounded by fairest of fair 
 
 Wounded, crushed like I ! 
 
 DISCIPLES OF SOMNUS. 
 
 Lowly shrubs with towsled heads, 
 Twinkling stars with sleepy eyes, 
 Swaying, swinging lullabys, 
 
 Droning, drowsy, slug-a-beds. 
 
 95
 
 MODEST WORTH. 
 
 I do not wish to mount and soar 
 
 On eagle s wings 
 
 Beyond the purview of my cabin door, 
 Nor rise above the common, honest poor, 
 
 To wake the strings 
 Vibrating proud Ambition s roar 
 Bove earthly things ! 
 
 I would be human, like the rest, 
 
 And make my song 
 A chorus to that kinship in my breast, 
 That it might make, at Modest Worth s behest, 
 
 In that great throng, 
 The weak, and tempted, and oppressed 
 Stand firm and strong ! 
 
 Oh, may Ambition on me frown 
 
 And furl his scroll ! 
 
 I ask no greater wealth, nor more renown, 
 Than that the meed of friendship may abound, 
 
 And me enfold ; 
 
 And should I have this laurel crown, 
 Twere wealth untold ! 
 
 96
 
 THE PRESS. 
 
 I am the Printing Press of Mother Earth, 
 With heart of steel, iron-limbed, and hands of brass; 
 I sing the wojrld s song, its historic past, 
 
 And symphonies of Time, back to Time s birth ; 
 
 I plead the cause of master and of serf, 
 I herald the to-morrow, voice to-day, 
 And speak to lands and cities far away. 
 
 I weave the woof of future, warp of past, 
 I tell the tale, alike, of peace and war, 
 I stir the pulse of nation near and far, 
 
 And make the hero fight and die at last. 
 
 I satisfy the toiler to his class. 
 Inspire, alike, the peasant and the pope 
 With consolation and eternal hope ! 
 
 I make the human heart with passion beat ; 
 A myriad people listen when I speak, 
 And Latin, Hun, and Celt, and Slav, and Greek, 
 All know my language all my words repeat, 
 And all my information gladly greet ; 
 I cry their joys and sorrows every hour, 
 And give the world its knowledge and its power ! 
 
 (Over.) 
 
 97
 
 THE PRESS. Cont. 
 
 I am the tireless clarion of news, 
 I fill the dullard s mind with brightening thought, 
 Man s conquest over matter I have wrought, 
 
 His mind of ignorance I disabuse ; 
 
 I record man s achievements, them diffuse 
 Throughout the world wherever they are sought, 
 And leave man uninformed and dull in naught. 
 
 My offspring come to you where er you be, 
 In crepuscule, at eventide, at night, 
 By incandescent glow, or candlelight 
 
 To squalid huts of pinching poverty, 
 
 Or gilded palaces of luxury. 
 I am the tears and laughter world s delight, 
 I am the Printing Press, the Beacon Light ! 
 
 98
 
 SOME CONSOLATION. 
 
 All Europe s in war s bloody toils, 
 
 Newspapers full of "dope"- 
 The poor are sorely cramped for aught to eat; 
 The wolf is at my door, almost, 
 I scarcely have a hope 
 But the children 
 
 Call me "Fatty" 
 
 Down the street. 
 
 I rack my brains to figure out 
 
 The mystery, the plan 
 The problems God hath set for man to meet ; 
 I delve in lore abstruse complex, 
 I do the best I can 
 When the children 
 Call me "Fatty" 
 
 Down the street. 
 
 There s something in this wicked world 
 
 To compensate sorrow 
 For every Woe there is a Weal, complete ; 
 But I, of all poor mortals here, 
 
 Have fared the best, you know 
 For the children 
 
 Call me "Fatty" 
 
 Down the street. 
 
 Oh ! let the War-dogs bark and roar 
 
 In Europe, Mexico 
 
 Let Hunger stalk abroad, her victims greet ; 
 I still have bread and water, and 
 Our Country has no foe 
 And the children 
 Call me "Fatty" 
 
 Down the street. 
 
 99
 
 MY CREED. 
 
 To pay my country due respect, 
 Like my profession and myself ; 
 
 My honesty to ne er neglect ; 
 
 Nor sell my fellow-man for pelf ; 
 
 Give honest effort for success ; 
 
 In my own proposition b lieve ; 
 My mistakes cheerfully confess ; 
 
 My neighbor, in no way, deceive ; 
 
 To save my means, as well as earn ; 
 
 Be optimistic, never knock ; 
 To plan to do a friendly turn ; 
 
 Meet promise , punct al as the clock ; 
 
 Guard health of body, peace of mind ; 
 
 Mix brains with effort ; system use ; 
 With friend and foe be firm, but kind ; 
 
 To waste not time, nor life abuse ; 
 
 My business study, in detail ; 
 
 Cut out amusements expensive ; 
 Enjoy life s good things ; never fail 
 
 To play the game of "live-let-live" ; 
 
 Gainst my own weakness make the fight ; 
 
 Be court ous, faithful, a Christian ; 
 A fragrance in the path of right ; 
 
 And, last and best, to be a man! 
 
 100
 
 A "CABBY S" TRIBUTE. 
 
 An unsophisticated country girl 
 Alighted from the train, 
 
 And "Cabby" saw 
 The city was a clam rous, muddled whirl 
 To her untutored brain, 
 For she was raw. 
 
 A "friend" had told her two places to stop : 
 One proved a vacant lot, 
 
 And "Cabby" smiled; 
 The other address was a barber shop 
 And foreign "polyglot," 
 Somewhat defiled. 
 
 He passed both places, unannounced, for the 
 
 Y- - W C A , 
 
 And place her there, 
 
 Where she mong helpful, loving friends might be. 
 Ah, there are, still, this day, 
 Some men four-square! 
 
 1 01
 
 MORTALITY S RESPONSE. 
 (Job x w. 14.) 
 
 And "If a man die, shall he live again?" 
 
 This query comes down through the centuries, 
 
 Ubiquitous, and rife with mysteries ; 
 
 Echo resounds the query for refrain, 
 
 Unheeded, still, of Desolation s cries ! 
 
 No gleam, no spark, no finger-point of Fate 
 
 Has pierced the depths of that lugubrious gloom, 
 
 Its subterranean vaults to penetrate, 
 
 And cleave the veil of that dread Potentate ! 
 
 Death is the final principle, the king, 
 
 So silently caparisoned in state, 
 
 Who rides upon his fleet, sequacious wing, 
 
 And gives no issue from his prurient womb 
 
 Nor sends back answer from the cold, dark tomb ! 
 
 102
 
 CHILDREN S FAIRY TALE. 
 
 The Fates gave me a small box made of lime, 
 Filled with a substance viscid, glutinous, 
 And promised to transmute, from that viscous, 
 
 At length, a fine gold watch to keep the time. 
 
 They bade me guard the little gift of mine, 
 
 And keep it warm, but not too hot, nor cold ; 
 And this I did a few days, and behold, 
 
 A gold chronometer superb, sublime ! 
 
 The transformation was a great surprise : 
 That from that viscous in the little case, 
 That air-tight, oval box so commonplace, 
 
 Was hocus-pocussed, right before my eyes, 
 
 A costly, precious jewel valued prize, 
 
 With mainspring, hairspring, lever, dial, hands, 
 Escapement everything a watch commands 
 
 A watch with no defect to criticise ! 
 
 And stranger still more wonderful to me, 
 
 The fact that every wheel, and slot, and chase, 
 And jewel, screw, and rivet was in place, 
 
 And all fit with such exact nicety, 
 
 And helped to keep the time so correctly, 
 
 That many came from far and unknown lands 
 To hear the watch tick hold it in their hands, 
 
 And see how such a mystery could be ! 
 
 (Over.} 
 
 103
 
 CHILDREN S FAIRY TALE. Cont. 
 
 Well, children, it dumbfounded every man ; 
 In fact, twas not a real watch at all, 
 But a more intricate machine withal. 
 
 Not all the jewelers in all the land 
 
 Could make one by machinery, nor by hand ; 
 Its fragile mechanism was so nice 
 Man could not make such thing at any price, 
 
 It was so perfect, wonderful, and grand ! 
 
 Instead of crystal, face, hand, lever, chain, 
 
 It had rich plumes and down, backbone, mouth, 
 claw, 
 
 Bone, muscle, blood, beak, skull, heart, liver, craw, 
 Lung, tissue, vocal cord, artery, vein ; 
 It had a head, and in the head a brain, 
 
 It had eyes, ears, feet, spurs, comb, neck, tail, leg ; 
 
 It had within, likewise, an unlaid egg 
 It lives, breathes, walks, sings, flies, and works amain. 
 
 Each little bone of leg, and wing, and spine 
 Is polished like the ivory so smooth, 
 And each articulation and each groove, 
 
 So ground and fashioned work so superfine, 
 
 Harmonious in measurement and line, 
 
 And knit with correlated, skillful plan, 
 So far beyond the workmanship of man 
 
 It surely is a handiwork Divine ! 
 
 (Over.) 
 
 104
 
 CHILDREN S FAIRY TALE. Cont. 
 
 Its dainty form, in its upholstering, 
 
 Enveloped in soft down of beauteous tints 
 Like variegated, decorated chintz, 
 
 And plumage from Dame Nature s fashioning, 
 
 Makes a symmetrical, exquisite thing. 
 
 A thing of rhythmic, charming, anthine grace 
 Touched with the brush to rainbow-artist s taste 
 
 She mounts, and soars, and rides upon her wing ! 
 
 So twas a bird, and not a watch, you see, 
 A being far too wonderful for man, 
 More intricate than he can even plan ! 
 
 How happy thankful, children, we should be 
 
 The fairies brought that lime-shell box to me, 
 That little egg so simple, commonplace, 
 To teach us children, and the human race, 
 
 That Life is this world s greatest mystery! 
 
 105
 
 THE SECRET. 
 
 The "hobble" skirt has had its day, 
 
 "They Say" skirts will be wider ; 
 
 Slim ankles may 
 
 Be tucked, "They Say," 
 Inside er. 
 
 Next week, or month, "They Say" may see 
 
 A poodle-dog beside her ; 
 She may decree 
 That ankles be 
 
 Worn wide er. 
 
 Who is "They Say"? I searched Tazewell, 
 
 And went to Paris later ; 
 I found the belle, 
 Fair Mad-moi-zell 
 
 Dick Tate er, 
 
 And she told me the secret plain ; 
 
 And, if I ne er mistook her, 
 She said : "It can 
 "Be n other than 
 
 Man s Look er." 
 
 106
 
 JAKE BROUGHT IN THE NEWS. 
 
 "Good morning, Jake. How s all at Summerfield ?" 
 I m purty well, I thank you, cept my crick ; 
 
 My neck got stiff a-settin up last night 
 
 At ole man Goodbin s house. He s mighty sick ; 
 
 We thought he d die last night, he s awful low ; 
 
 The neighbors all come in and set all night ; 
 He worried through and, somehow, was not dead 
 
 When I left there some time about daylight. 
 
 Long in the night the ole man talked a sight, 
 
 Twas mostly good advice to his young wife, 
 
 (Bell used to be a little wild, you know;) 
 He tole her bout the pitfalls in this life. 
 
 Bell took it hard, she shore embraced him some, 
 We-all got scared, feared she go in a trance. 
 
 Ma lowed : "She s fondlin the ole man too much." 
 But Dock Grice said: "Aw poot! on with the 
 dance." 
 
 The ole man tole her he had made his will, 
 
 By which his farms and all his wealth she d take ; 
 
 He d fixed it all, and now, before he died, 
 He had of her one last request to make : 
 
 (Over.} 
 
 107
 
 JAKE BROUGHT IN THE NEWS. Cont. 
 
 He said he d always kep it to his-self, 
 
 But he was jealous of her and Guss Grimm, 
 
 And that he never would die satisfied 
 
 Without she d promise not to marry him. 
 
 She was so overcome she could not talk ; 
 
 But Gran ma Arnold chafed her han s and breas 
 Until she seemed to get her breath enough 
 
 To answer the ole 1 dyin man s reques . 
 
 She said (among her sobs) that she was glad 
 That she could pacify the ole man s whim ; 
 
 That though Guss wanted her so awful bad, 
 She positively could not marry him ; 
 
 She knowed they d handled talk bout her and Guss 
 Folks, not a thousand miles off, had things staged; 
 
 But she d an ole flame down near Silverton, 
 And him and her, ALREADY, WAS INGAGED ! 
 
 108
 
 MY LIFE SYMPHONY. 
 
 (A paraphrase on "My Symphony," a prose composi 
 tion, by Wm. Henry Channing; Copyrighted by 
 M. T. Sheahan, Boston.) 
 
 To live content with but small means, 
 
 Seek elegance, not luxury; 
 Not fashion s empty, nascent dreams, 
 
 Refinement rather, let it be ; 
 
 Be worthy, npt respectable ; 
 
 To be not rich, nor covet wealth ; 
 Think true ; do right ; act frankly well ; 
 
 Talk gently ; study ; guard my health ; 
 
 Await occasion, though tis hard ; 
 
 Bear bravely, cheerfully, my part; 
 Give heed to star, bird, baby, bard, 
 
 And sage alike, with open heart ; 
 
 To hurry not, but grow apace, 
 
 Unbidden and unconsciously, 
 The Spir tual through the Commonplace ; 
 
 This is my Creed and Symphony. 
 
 109
 
 JOE S GOT THE BIGGEST AUT IN TOWN. 
 
 Joe used to be a puncher on 
 
 The cow-ranch, "Swipe & Hyde," 
 And packed his guns, and chewed, and cussed, 
 
 And played some on the side ; 
 He s quit the most of them things now, 
 
 And to them sca ce refers ; 
 But one thing pore Joe can t give up 
 
 He still wears both his spurs ! 
 
 CHORUS. 
 
 Joe s got the biggest aut in town, 
 
 And I know how to ride ; 
 There s wheels in wheels, they all turn round, 
 
 And some turn on the side. 
 
 Joe s got a big red 4O-hoss 
 
 I think she s number eight ; 
 You ought to see her spin and whirl, 
 
 And hear her carburate ; 
 I ve been Joe s girl now several weeks, 
 
 Ev r sence "Old Red" was bought ; 
 And Joe s no mind for nothin now, 
 
 Cept me and his big aut. 
 
 When we get out of town a bit, 
 
 Joe pulls the throttle ope, 
 We leave the earth, I hang to Joe, 
 
 He is my "last white hope" ; 
 We run down everything alive, 
 
 Deer, wolves, and such light dope; 
 Last week we smashed six buffalo 
 
 And fourteen cantelope ! 
 
 (Rooseveltian.) 
 (Over.} 
 
 1 10
 
 JOE S GOT THE BIGGEST AUT IN TOWN. 
 Cont. 
 
 Way out, clost Joe s big pasture, there s 
 
 A piece of road that s straight 
 And level for a hundred mile, 
 
 Without a fence or gate ; 
 And when we get away out there, 
 
 Joe speeds her down to "slow," 
 And; makes me hold the steerin -wheel, 
 
 And he puts on the show ! 
 
 He starts the orchestra to go, 
 
 He puts on a new reel, 
 He starts the "movies" up, you know, 
 
 And says : "Just let er spiel." 
 And then O me ! O my ! O gee ! 
 
 The "movies" yum, yum, yum ! 
 I plays with his plays with his spurs, 
 
 And lets him chew my gum ! 
 
 in
 
 THE SPIRIT OF YOUTH. 
 
 (Written on reading an editorial on "Youth" in the 
 Daily Panhandle. ) 
 
 Who knows, indeed yea, who can tell 
 In what fair, distant land may dwell 
 Youth s spirit, when it bids farewell 
 
 And takes its flight 
 To dwell in that ineffable, 
 
 Eleusine night ? 
 
 Takes its reluctant, farewell flight 
 From field of wistful eye s delight, 
 We know not, nor can guess aright, 
 
 To what fair plain 
 And makes its sojourn infinite, 
 
 Nor comes again. 
 
 But this we know : there goes from us 
 
 Forever that mysterious, 
 
 Glad, sparkling life-wine stimulus, 
 
 That fine bouquet 
 And leaves life but an incubus, 
 
 Soon to decay. 
 
 Though Youth is callow, at its best, 
 Unstable, foolish ; yet the rest 
 Of life, without its buoyant zest. 
 
 Is weak forsooth 
 Compared with that, quaintly expressed : 
 
 "Moonshine of Youth." 
 
 112
 
 THE SPIRIT OF YOUTH. Cont. 
 
 Fame, fortune, honors, power, place 
 Like all those flaming goals we chase, 
 Though they inebriate our race 
 
 The human (brute) ; 
 Compared with Youth s alluring face 
 
 Are Dead Sea fruit. 
 
 If Youth could know ! could tell the tale, 
 
 Its hidden mysteries unveil ; 
 
 "Ere moon grows cold, and sun goes pale," 
 
 Could know its fate ! 
 But Youth knows not of life s entail 
 
 Till tis too late. 
 
 Youth is a flower, in bud and bloom, 
 Which, but in blooming, hath perfume ; 
 To know how rare and sweet that boon 
 
 Fair gift from God 
 Life must become (and does too soon) 
 
 A rattling pod!
 
 DON T CHER KNOW. 
 
 Colombia is fixed, 
 
 Don t cher know, 
 But aren t we somewhat mixed 
 Eh, Woodrow? 
 
 If Pauncefote should kick 
 (Like Huerta), throw a brick, 
 Or Panama get sick, 
 Spose it would play "Old Nick" 
 With the show ? 
 
 Should her ships go through free, 
 
 Don t cher know, 
 Old England mayn t agree 
 Eh, Woodrow? 
 
 Will other nations be, 
 Somewhat like Champ and me, 
 Or will they want it free 
 (What of the Hague "tree-tee"?) 
 What s the show? 
 
 Twenty-five million "bucks" 
 
 Thus they go. 
 Is money cheap as shucks ? 
 It seems so. 
 
 When we have "counted ducks," 
 Have raked o er all the mucks, 
 Have pressed out all the tucks, 
 I m fraid we re "off the trucks," 
 Don t cher know. 
 
 114
 
 I AM SO GLAD I TRUST IN HIM. 
 
 I am so glad 
 
 I am so glad that I can work and play, 
 And love, and serve, and worship, think, and pray 
 With thankful heart for duty done each day 
 
 I am so glad ! 
 
 I am content 
 
 I am content if I some recompense 
 Can make for these ; and rest, without offense, 
 Within the bosom of His confidence 
 
 I am content ! 
 
 I trust in Him 
 I trust in Him as my alternative, 
 To whom my soul and life I gladly give. 
 He gave me more He died that I might live ! 
 
 I trust in Him !
 
 OUR CHURCH PROGRAMME. 
 
 My home church prints these words in its programme 
 I shall not worry, shall not be afraid ; 
 
 I shall seek out the poor where er I am, 
 And give them aid ; 
 
 I shall be courteous, humane, discreet ; 
 
 In judgment on my fellows I 11 be mild ; 
 I shall be kind to every one I meet, 
 
 Man, woman, child; 
 
 I shall be cheerful, faithful, honest, true ; 
 
 I Ml trust in God, the future bravely face ; 
 And that I may these pledges keep, and do, 
 
 Lord give me grace ; 
 
 I shall not envy ; yield to anger, strife ; 
 
 I shall refrain from hatred, jealousy. 
 Lord, make these lines the aegis of my life 
 
 My Pledge to Thee ! 
 
 116
 
 WE DON T SPEAK. 
 
 She s fair and beautiful and gay, 
 The rarest, sweetest flower; 
 Her tragic mien oh, what a sight to see ! 
 A model whom men crave to view, 
 
 Fresh from her perfumed bower; 
 And she s clever, 
 
 But she never 
 
 Speaks to me. 
 
 Men quit their stores to see her pass, 
 
 She shows her class, she s chic; 
 Her Cleopatric pose, hauteur O gee ! 
 She has one faulti (I hate to tell), 
 
 Her skirt s too long, too thick ; 
 (And I d never,) 
 
 If she d ever 
 
 Speak to me. 
 
 Dame Nature holds no prize sublime 
 
 Like her ; she grips my heart ! 
 Oh, what a fair, proud queen she d ever be ! 
 If she, from me, would take some hints 
 
 On clothes I could impart, 
 And would ever, 
 
 (Failing never,) 
 
 Speak to me. 
 
 T gave a girl points, once, on clothes, 
 
 Next week she married swell ; 
 She scooped ten thousand plunks al-ee-mo-nee ! 
 I might put some of you, girls, next, 
 
 But her you must not tell, 
 For she d never, 
 
 Never, never, 
 
 Speak to me.
 
 TENDER WOMAN S POWER. 
 
 How true tis woman holds man s every fate, 
 To shape it as the potter shapes the clay, 
 
 And make his life what she would have it be. 
 No depths too low, nor is it e er too late, 
 
 For her to reach her hand, snatch him away, 
 And make or mar his final destiny. 
 
 Tis likewise true that woman is a vase 
 
 As fragile as the floating bubble-shell 
 
 A pitcher which, though none may be more 
 
 fair, 
 
 Is doomed to break to shatter in disgrace, 
 If it go once too often to the well ; 
 
 Nor she nor all the world may it repair ! 
 
 SHELLEYAN CRONYNS. 
 
 Enchanting appalling, 
 The forest loudly calling, 
 And the horizon is golden 
 And the silver stars are falling, 
 Falling from the cold gray sky. 
 And the red blood s throbs embolden, 
 And the night owl s lonely weeping, 
 And the day-dreams slowly creeping 
 Where the deepening shadows lie. 
 And the harvest moon is swollen 
 With the sunlight she has stolen 
 From the blazing sun, and he is red. 
 Come ye now with entwined head, 
 Come ye now 
 With laurel wreathed on your sage brow. 
 
 118
 
 COMPENSATORY. 
 
 I did not feel like smiling, I was sad, 
 
 The world awry 
 
 Customers shy 
 My business all seemed going to the bad ; 
 
 Rich uncle would not die. 
 
 ; 
 
 Bankruptcy seemed to stare me in the face, 
 
 Report was rife 
 
 I d quit my wife 
 My moth r-in-law moved over to our place, 
 
 And she insured my life ! 
 
 Resigned, all day, I laughed and romped, in play 
 
 With ma, wife, child, 
 
 In raptures wild 
 And this old, funny world turned round, next day, 
 
 And winked at me, and smiled! 
 
 119
 
 THE LOVER S RECOMPENSE. 
 
 Both Hate and Anger may, in words, or blows, 
 Discharge themselves on foe, or even guest ; 
 
 With gain, old Greed s rapacity compose ; 
 
 And Sorrow may, in tears, find sweet repose ; 
 
 But that sweet passion Love hath no redress. 
 
 True love alone its Amoret will keep 
 
 To that which flusters his design and dream, 
 And makes him grieve, lament, and sigh, and weep, 
 And tremble, fawn, and crouch, and cringe, and 
 
 creep f 
 More worthy of disdain than of esteem. 
 
 And woman, who is born to be controlled, 
 
 Will worship those who haughty spirits boast, 
 
 Affect the loud, and gay, and proud, and bold, 
 
 And to the gallant, care-free lover hold ; 
 
 While she disdains the man who loves her mostf 
 
 120
 
 MORTALITY; 
 
 OR, 
 
 THE STAR OF BETHLEHEM. 
 
 Death is the final principle of life, 
 
 The end of all ; 
 
 The culmination and the doleful pall 
 Whose dread, unerring strokes are ever rife. 
 
 He garners what his scythe lets fall, 
 And needs no gleaner in his wake ; 
 
 No straws, astray, 
 
 Are left for Ruth to bear away. 
 Nor king nor potentate may make 
 
 One moment of delay. 
 
 Nor may the gold of Ophir or Peru 
 
 Respite, reprieve ; 
 
 Or purchase amnesty, or Death deceive ; 
 Nor lease of life repurchase or renew ; 
 
 Nor man from his dread clutch relieve. 
 Naught in the great Dispensary 
 
 May Death withhold, 
 
 Nor hinder, counteract, control 
 The flight of that swift mystery 
 
 That thing we call the Soul. 
 
 Yea, man who makes the very elements 
 
 Obey his will, 
 
 Subserve his pleasures, and his coffers fill ; 
 Himself to Death must yield obedience, 
 
 And that ferine mandate fulfill. 
 Though, from the grossest ignorance, 
 
 He s hewn his way 
 
 Up to this crowning century, 
 Yet he must crinee in obeisance 
 
 To that dread Mystery ! 
 
 (Over.} 
 
 121
 
 MORTALITY. Cont. 
 
 Grim dissolution knows no favorite ; 
 
 The cowering slave, 
 
 The belted knight, the crim nal, and the knave, 
 The squalid beggar, in his rags bedight, 
 
 Whose only welcome is the grave ; 
 From mart, and shop, and forge, and loom 
 
 No dearth nor lack 
 
 All privies to that great compact ; 
 All, all are driftng to the tomb, 
 
 And none will e er come back ! 
 
 But, looking far beyond the flocks of stars, 
 
 I see a light, 
 
 More brilliant, yea, than silv ry satellite, 
 And grander far than Jupiter or Mars, 
 
 Which shines beyond the Skeptic s night 
 For man s redemption, him to save, 
 
 His Diadem ! 
 
 Twill this mortality o erwhelm, 
 Twill conquer Death. Hell, and the grave 
 
 The Star of Bethlehem! 
 
 122
 
 THEY RE AFTER US. 
 
 The sisters whom you and I woo, Fame and Fortune, 
 Are flirting with us every day of our lives ; 
 
 In thousands of ways they show us that misfortune 
 Awaits those who fail to get them for their wives. 
 
 They sing like the Sirens, they beckon us onward ; 
 
 They use every effort to "bring us around" ; 
 They tell us life s path hath no steps leading down 
 ward; 
 
 To retrograde one must "jump off" or "fall down." 
 
 They say that each one hath within latent power 
 Enough to put on the "high," "let her run full" ; 
 
 That old Opportunity s plucked like a flower, 
 
 And "pep," "push," and "pluck" will beat "pap," 
 "pax," and "pull." 
 
 123
 
 MY PARAPHRASE. 
 
 (Of Victor Hugo s "Easter Hope.") 
 
 Within myself a feeling rife, 
 A consciousness of future life 
 
 Pervades my soul ; and I am like a forest, once cut 
 down ; i 
 
 The new shoots sprung afresh, once more, 
 Are stronger, liv lier than before, 
 
 And I receive new sap from air, and sunshine, 
 rain, and ground. 
 
 I know I m rising toward the sky, 
 The sunshine beckons me on high, 
 
 And Heaven, with reflection of unknown worlds, 
 
 lights my way; 
 
 You tell me that the soul is naught 
 But fruits of bod ly power, inwrought 
 
 Then why is my soul still more bright, and lumin 
 ous each day? 
 
 Why then, when bod ly powers fail, 
 My head wears winter s silvery veil 
 
 And youth no more within my sinking frame is 
 
 lingering, 
 
 Why breathe I such perfume, forsooth, 
 From lilacs, violets of youth, 
 
 Why in my heart that fragrance still, that bright, 
 eternal spring? 
 
 (Over.) 
 
 124
 
 MY PARAPHRASE. Cont. 
 
 The nearer I approach my bier, 
 The plainer, clearer still I hear 
 
 Around me and about me that immortal symphony 
 Of beckoning worlds inviting strains 
 How simple, yet how passing strange 
 
 It is a fairy tale, and yet a living history ! 
 
 For half a century my thought, 
 In prose and poetry I Ve wrought ; 
 
 In history, romance, tradition, ode, philosophy ; 
 In drama, satire, song; in all 
 I Ve answered to the Muses call ; 
 
 Yet still I feel I have not said a thousandth part 
 in me! 
 
 And as I go down to the tomb 
 My life s not finished ; I 11 resume 
 
 Next morning my day s work, which shall go on, 
 
 and on, and on 
 The tomb s no alley of despair, 
 Tis a broad, open thoroughfare, 
 
 It closes on the twilight, but it opens with the 
 dawn! 
 
 125
 
 THE LAST CHANCE. 
 
 ( Unspeakable. ) 
 
 The deep and quiet ocean lay 
 At rest, the storm had past ; 
 
 The white-winged Argo from the bay, 
 Dismantled of her mast; 
 
 Her rigging long since blown away, 
 
 Her deck in ruin and decay, 
 
 She drifted, chartless, day by day 
 Until at last 
 
 Starvation s spectral Demon came 
 
 And claimed some souls each day, 
 Till but Medea and Colchaine 
 
 Were left to wait and pray ! 
 Then, that SHE might her life maintain, 
 And one more chance for rescue gain, 
 He gave hid body to the flame! 
 Her death s delay/ 
 
 126
 
 MAN THE MOTH. 
 
 A moth, upon my window-pane 
 
 One summer night, 
 Beat out its fragile, foolish life in vain, 
 And died from sheer, exhausting overstrain, 
 
 In sorry plight 
 Self-murdered rather than remain 
 Out from the light ! 
 
 And man fights as persistently 
 
 Gainst Fate s redoubt ! 
 The blaze of lucent glory charms his eye 
 With goals that beckon him to do, or die 
 
 And there s no doubt 
 But Man s a type of candle-fly, 
 And won t stay out ! 
 
 127
 
 LOVE S REQUITAL. 
 
 Dear Heart: 
 
 If you loved me as I love you 
 
 Twould translate, to this earth, the joys above, 
 And make it an Elys an rendezvous, 
 
 An Eden, crowned with happiness and love ; 
 No realms would be so beautiful and fair, 
 
 The Universe, attuned in harmony, 
 Would catch the spirit of the leading air 
 
 In playing Life s concinnous melody ; 
 The sun would then dispense serener light, 
 
 His streaming sunbeams would become pure gold, 
 The glimm ring sheen from Luna s sybarite 
 
 Be nifti r lure, for lovers, than of old ; 
 Man s greed and tyranny would cease elide, 
 
 His ardent wishes clothe in softer hues, 
 His "sword and scepter, pageantry and pride" 
 
 No more his brother outrage and abuse; 
 The "Brotherhood of Man," Utopia s dream. 
 
 Would come to soothe and sweeten all our cares, 
 Humanity would stand secure supreme, 
 
 Beyond the reach of Satan s artful snares ; 
 
 (Over.} 
 
 128
 
 U)VE S REQUITAL. Cont. 
 
 And universal love would have her sway, 
 
 No labor man s refection given free 
 All life would be a golden holiday, 
 
 A ?lad, romantic, sweet concinnity ; 
 The sage s precept and the poet s song, 
 
 Then woven into music, would begin 
 To modify the harshness of the throng 
 
 Like plaintive, silver notes of violin, 
 And saints and angels would take up the strain, 
 
 And all the worlds glad acclamation give, 
 And Heav n and Earth would sing the glad refrain : 
 
 "Love s manumission of all things that live" ; 
 And bird, bee, beast, and insect, foetus, flower, 
 
 Would catch the strain wherever they might be 
 And, like a long-pent river in its power, 
 
 Would burst the bounds and sweep on to the sea ; 
 And in that SEA OF LOVE, there everything 
 
 Its friendship and alleg ance would renew 
 To that great potentate Erosian king 
 
 // you loved me as I love you! 
 
 129
 
 ANDROMEDA S SACRIFICE. 
 
 In the long, long years ago, 
 
 Where the tall palmettos grow, 
 Grew a maiden, fairer than the poet s dream ; 
 
 Dowered lavishly with health, 
 
 And the luxuries of wealth, 
 As her social life and station would beseem. 
 
 But she closed the flower-hung gate, 
 
 Opening to power and state, 
 Closed the manuscript of luxury complete ; 
 
 Put the silver tissue down, 
 
 For the Sacred Order s gown, 
 Laid her wealth down at our Lady Sorrow s feet. 
 
 Yet the cold world did not feel. 
 
 When the pitiless, sharp steel 
 Swept the silken hair from that fair, thoughtful brow r 
 
 Nor did reverential boast, 
 
 Sweep from lake to ocean s coast, 
 When she donned the Black Veil took the Sacred 
 Vow. 
 
 Nought but chant in whispered breath 
 
 Requiem of maiden s death ! 
 Twas a silence deep, profound as dolent night ; 
 
 A surrender of the dead, 
 
 A new nun had raised her head 
 Mong the galaxy of stars, a satellite ! 
 
 (Over.} 
 
 130
 
 ANDROMEDA S SACRIFICE. Cont. 
 
 She had known naught of world s strife, 
 
 Nor the bitterness of life, 
 Royalty had showered roses at her feet ; 
 
 Birds had sung their joyous lays, 
 
 Mingled with the voice of praise, 
 A delirium of music, her to greet. 
 
 Young and tender as a vine, 
 
 Veins athriH with Nature s wine, 
 Life had opened wondrous visions to her eyes ; 
 
 A wide vista of delights, 
 
 Peopled with fair nymphs and sprites 
 And light fancies like Titania s butterflies. 
 
 Love s young fairy-tale, so droll, 
 
 Had been whispered to her soul, 
 
 Hope had nestled his winged god gainst her white 
 breast ; 
 
 Mong her visions volupt ous 
 
 Were sweet dreams of Perseus, 
 Love s pomegranate f o her vanm lips had been pressed. 
 
 But beyond her dream-child s eyes, 
 
 Was her call for sacrifice ; 
 Through the vibratory sweetness of bird s song 
 
 Came the low wail of the lost 
 
 Woman, shamed, adrift, sin-tossed, 
 Sisters steeped in crime as victims of man s wrong ! 
 
 (Over. )
 
 ANDROMEDA S SACRIFICE. Cont. 
 
 Then from visions day-dreams bright, 
 
 Turned now to Eternal Night, 
 Dark as souls that cower naked on the thorns, 
 
 That girl-woman comes to bless 
 
 Fallen woman, her caress 
 Win her back from that dark valley of life s storms. 
 
 From the warmth of Love s soft kiss, 
 
 From the home of peaceful bliss, 
 From the Pleasure Gardens of her girlish haunts ; 
 
 Turned she to the plain-wall room 
 
 Silence of the sacred tomb, 
 And surrendered life to others needs and wants ! 
 
 Her heart-hunger starved and bruised, 
 
 Her sex-mission-ship abused, 
 She that bitter cup of gall patiently sips ; 
 
 By the metal cross crushed back 
 
 In her breast that pain, that lack 
 That deep yearning for the touch of baby lips ; 
 
 Her girl-life crushed, crucified, 
 
 On the cross she deified, 
 For the sins of woman whom man had betrayed ; 
 
 In poor, fallen woman s shame, 
 
 Buried she her youth and name 
 Twos the sacrifice Andromeda had made! 
 
 132
 
 SHORT-CHANGED. 
 
 Whenever I make 
 
 A willful mistake, 
 I know I shall rue it and should; 
 
 I barter for pelf, 
 
 And short-change myself, 
 Whenever I fail to make good ! 
 
 My life s not my own, 
 
 Tis merely a loan ; 
 I own not my next breath of air ; 
 
 How petty to cheat 
 
 To practice deceit 
 How shamed I am, when I m not square ! 
 
 I d rather be right 
 
 Throughout the whole fight, 
 And let the world wag as it can, 
 
 Than own the whole range, 
 
 And be a "Short-Change," 
 And know that I can t be a man! 
 
 I may make a bluff, 
 
 Pretend I m "the stuff" 
 And living the life that I should ; 
 
 The fact still remains, 
 
 Myself I short-change 
 Whenever I fail to make good ! 
 
 Then take it from me, 
 
 Whoe er you may be, 
 You d better maintain your manhood ! 
 
 It s off like an elf 
 
 You Ve short-changed yourself 
 Whenever you fail to make good ! 
 
 133
 
 OUR TRYST. 
 
 When snows and blizzards pass away, 
 
 And tender Spring 
 
 Begins to sing, 
 To her sweet flowers, her melody, 
 
 I think of one with whom I roved 
 
 Mong shady bowers, 
 
 And tender flowers, 
 In that deep forest she so loved. 
 
 One day we found a cozy nook 
 
 Mong scandent vines 
 
 And columbines 
 A mossy seat beside a brook. 
 
 She wept that day I went away ; 
 
 Then, comforted, 
 
 She smiled and said : 
 "Let s go back to our nook some day." 
 
 Oh, cruel Death s sad, heartless reign ! 
 
 How could we know 
 
 That she must go 
 Ere I beheld her face again? 
 
 The flowers are dead ; the birds have flown 
 
 Far from our nook 
 
 Beside the brook 
 How can I go back there alone! 
 
 134
 
 FRIENDSHIP. 
 
 Tis said that Love, mong all the human passions, 
 
 Holds in her hand and wields the greatest sway; 
 And that, when she her fabric weaves and fashions, 
 Twill wear for aye. 
 
 Tis true that while rich splendors may surround us, 
 Love s tendrils may cling closer to our breast ; 
 But when afflictions and turmoils seem boundless, 
 Then comes the test ! 
 
 Love is a tender plant of cultivation, 
 
 Which, must be often warmed with patient care; 
 It lacks solidity and deep foundation, 
 It may not wear. 
 
 But when Earth s cold calamities betide us, 
 
 And Sorrow s pangs give no surcease, nor rest ; 
 We know a sweet refuge where we may hide us, 
 Tis Friendship s breast! 
 
 Earth has no gift that she might better lavish 
 
 Upon mankind, that will his life equip, 
 And strengthen him gainst temptations that ravish, 
 Than true friendship! 
 
 135
 
 LOVE S BIRTHDAY. 
 
 She raised her eyes, their glances met 
 Oh ! what was in her look ? 
 
 There was not much, and yet and yet 
 It was no open book ! 
 
 A glance from soul which knew not self ; 
 
 A look, a gleam, that s all 
 But woe to him on whom that elf, 
 
 That maiden look may fall ! 
 
 There is a day when every maid 
 
 Looks at a man this way ; 
 When Innocence, passion-arrayed, 
 
 Has come into its day ; 
 
 A reverie, a purity, 
 
 A candor thout disguise ; 
 She, looking through futurity, 
 
 With virgin s surcharged eyes ; 
 
 A woman s look through virgin s eyes, 
 
 A message from above; 
 To her a secret, a surprise, 
 
 In her the birth of Love ! 
 
 136
 
 FLYING THOUGHTS. 
 
 Once, on a time, I thought a golden thought, 
 And, in my mind, I weighed it, as I ought, 
 
 And then I tossed it carelessly away, 
 Quite heedless that, if it again I sought, 
 
 T would come back any day. 
 
 Alas, alas ! how far, how far away 
 
 It sped ; for, since, I Ve hunted day by day, 
 
 And searched and probed throughout my heated 
 
 brain, 
 Bewailing the lost treasure gone astray, 
 
 But it came not again ! 
 
 And now, my dear, as we talk here to-day, 
 I find my golden thought that willful stray 
 
 Has sped, fust like my love, from me to you ; 
 And thus both thought and love, like children play, 
 
 One thought, one love for two. 
 
 137
 
 THE MAID S LAMENT. 
 
 I thought I had a reason, then, to spurn 
 The love that, in his bosom, I saw burn 
 
 And glow, for me, so constant, true and strong ; 
 
 I feared that he might seek to do me wrong : 
 I thought he had another bond, and place, 
 (He thought so, too, till he d beheld my face) 
 
 Then came to me this mandate from God s hand : 
 "Behold ! there is one mate for every man, 
 
 And, let them find each other where they may, 
 It is the hour of Fate the destined day ; 
 O er lands and seas and storms, Fate rides above, 
 And conquers every foe. His wand is Love ; 
 
 All ties and bonds, all locks and beams and bars 
 Are sophistries, and fade like noon-day stars." 
 
 He tried to make me understand it then; 
 His love was not like that of other men. 
 I heeded not when I was young and fair, 
 I flitted Love away like ambient air. 
 
 When I had known, for sure, his love was mine, 
 
 I had no right to scorn it, nor decline; 
 
 It was the voice of Fate, Love s sinecure, 
 
 It was my gift from God twas sweet and pure ! 
 
 And if I found him loosed, by law, or bound, 
 
 He was my own to take, wherever found ; 
 
 For, bound by puny man, we may be free 
 Man s laws are made for mere convenlency. 
 
 (Over. ) 
 
 138
 
 THE MAID S LAMENT. Cont. 
 
 He tried to make me understand it then; 
 His love was not like that of other men. 
 I heeded not when I was young and fair, 
 I flitted Love away like ambient air ! 
 
 At that time I had seen but twenty years, 
 I m forty now, mid solitude and tears ; 
 
 He s gone from earth, nor waits more on my 
 whim, 
 
 But waits me There, where I shall go to him ! 
 More dear is he to me than all earth s ties, 
 He beckons me from far beyond the skies ; 
 
 And whether mong the saints or cherubim, 
 
 I shall not be wrong, There, in loving him ! 
 
 For God, when He made man, He predestined 
 That he should love one woman of his kind ; 
 
 He fashioned her so she would fit his hand, 
 
 And gave her bliss through loving but that Man! 
 
 He tried to make me understand it then; 
 His love was not like that of other men. 
 I heeded not when I was young and fair, 
 I flitted Love away like ambient air ! 
 
 139
 
 THE OLD PLANTATION. 
 
 There s a pathos in the solemn contemplation 
 
 Of the old times, and old friends we used to know, 
 
 When we visit and review the old plantation 
 
 Where we passed our childhood days, long years 
 ago; 
 
 When we see the old farm wrapt in desolation, 
 With its buildings sinking into slow decay ; 
 
 Fields abandoned to wild, useless vegetation, 
 
 (Fields so small now, but so large in childhood s 
 day,) 
 
 How the memories of sadness, and of pleasure, 
 Of our happy youth s extravagant extremes, 
 
 All come trooping back to strengthen manhood s 
 
 treasure, 
 And to sweeten the fruition of life s dreams ! 
 
 As I ruminate, to-day, in perlustration 
 
 Of the mansion and such buildings as remain, 
 
 I m exuberant with glad rejuvenation, 
 
 For I m living o er Youth s sweet, new life again ! 
 
 Here s the cabin where we heard our hired-man tell us 
 How he used to be a bloody, wild outlaw, 
 
 How he killed an Indian chief, once, who got jealous 
 Cause he took the chief s papooses and his squaw ; 
 
 How he mowed, by hand, one day, some twenty acres 
 In the "Nation," where he owned townships of 
 lands ; 
 
 How he used to be a gambler beat the fakirs, 
 
 And once whipped a badger with his naked hands ! 
 
 (Over.) i 
 
 140
 
 THE OLD PLANTATION. Cont. 
 
 But the tenant s gone ! the cabin s walls are swaying, 
 It is sinking fast, and soon will pass away, 
 
 Like old neighbors whom we loved, now dead, or 
 
 straying; 
 From the dear old haunts of adolescency. 
 
 There s the orchard, but the last trees are decaying, 
 There are mounds where other large trees used to 
 grow, ] 
 
 And the hand of Time is but his work delaying 
 All the other trees will, ere long, have to go. 
 
 As I walk among their mounds, to-day, and ponder 
 (The necropolis of friends I used to know,) 
 
 I m reminded that I, too, must soon go Yonder, 
 
 Where I 11 meet and greet true friends of long 
 ago!. 
 
 There s the spring, the crystal fountain, ever flowing, 
 With the clouds and landscape mirrored on its 
 face, 
 
 In that shady nook where evergreens are growing, 
 
 Neath where branches of the tall trees interlace; 
 
 How salubrious this mollifying fountain ! 
 
 How benignantly it satisfied our thirst ! 
 As we came, toilworn, from valley, plain and mountain, 
 
 When the stifling summer heat had done its worst. 
 
 As this cooling fountain flows on toward the ocean, 
 And I stand here contemplating it to-day, 
 
 This one question comes to me, in my devotion : 
 
 "Will the Soul of Man, likewise, go on for aye?" 
 
 141
 
 ECHO. 
 
 (Woman s Double Grouch.) 
 Echo, they say, 
 From some outre 
 Farce-comedy, 
 Some recherche 
 Narcissus play 
 Of Love s delay, 
 Drooped, pined away, 
 And, gradually, 
 Became blase. 
 Then she got gay 
 And gossipy, 
 Lost stamina ; 
 Till now, she may 
 Repeat, convey, 
 Give up, betray, 
 Most any day, 
 
 All secrets heard ! 31 
 
 So, Lost Love whet 
 That nymph s regret 
 Until she set 
 The plan that met, 
 O erturned, upset 
 Fair woman s pet 
 And favorite 
 Law : Etiquette. 
 And it, you bet, 
 Makes woman fret, 
 Swear, starve, and sweat 
 Like Suffragette, 
 (Wield her hatchette,) 
 That she, till yet, 
 Is forced to let 
 The echo get 
 
 The blamed last word ! 
 
 The End. 
 142
 
 NOTES. 
 
 Note 1, Page 33. 
 
 Wash-hun-gah does not use our word for "soul" here, 
 but in the sense of: "Kings of the earths and peoples; 
 princes and judges of all the earths." His exact language 
 was: "Yakni miko vhlehah michi okla putta momah, 
 pehlichi vhlehah micha yakni nan vpesa aiyasha momah." 
 It will be noticed that he does not use the word "Shil- 
 om bish" here in this connection; but, from the context of 
 what follows, the author has found the best rendition, for 
 the English reader, is the expression: "Immortal Soul," as 
 used. I 
 
 Note 2, Page 34. 
 
 The Chief uses the word "anulfillah" here, conveying 
 the idea of counselor, or councilor, as well as companion. 
 
 Note 3, Page 34. 
 
 He uses the word "Chitokaka" here for the Godhead, 
 and not "Chihowa." 
 
 Note 4, Page 35. 
 
 Inla ya na kvniomichi tuk a omihchit ish i fvlvnu- 
 michashke. 
 
 Note 5, Page 48. 
 
 Chitikaka yvt im auklvna ya ahattao, yvmvt kvhvlla 
 hekeyo hoke. 
 
 Note 6, Page 48. 
 
 Is sa nukhaklashke, Chihowah ma; svlbvssha hoka; 
 etc. 
 
 Note 7, Page 51. 
 
 Yvmohmi hatuk osh sv chukvsh, vt na yokpah ma isht 
 vm a hulittopa mvt yokpah fehnvshke. 
 Note 8, Page 51. 
 
 In 1849 a great many Frenchmen who failed to dis 
 cover gold in California, in the great rush, stopped in the 
 Kaw country, on their return, intermarried with the In 
 dians, and lived among the tribe. It is believed that these 
 French words found their way into the legend through this 
 source, and are, therefore, of recent origin. 
 
 Note 9, Page 58. 
 Ai okchaya a nvinti vt chishno yak oka. 
 
 Note 10, Page 57. 
 
 Chi sunlosh vt nan ik achukmo ka micha chittivlbl vt 
 na haksichi ya ik a chumo ka. 
 
 Note 11, Page 60. 
 Afvmmih tvfolepah sipokni. etc. 
 
 Note 12, Page 60. 
 I tempel ihutittapa ya Chihowa hut ahattvt. 
 
 Note 13, Page 62. 
 Mihma shutik a bichulla cha akkoa tak. 
 
 143
 
 Note 14, Page 62. 
 
 Yohmih ma Chihowa hvt vba ya hilohvcthi tok; mioha 
 Ohaha i Shaihli vt itih luak tubaksi yosh asha tok oke. 
 
 Note 15, Page 66. 
 Ahl micfta livshki aiena kvt BV kanchih kai. 
 
 Note 16, Page 68. 
 
 Yokmi hvt hvttak ik uhlpeso ya ilap ibbak nan isht ai 
 ahatta tuk ak inli ho ishit yukachi hoke. 
 
 Note 17, Page 68. 
 
 Fvhamvt akrechi likma, tana he keyuih makj ash saiyi 
 nutaka akkakoha hoke. 
 
 Note 18, Page 67. 
 
 The blood: Issish hlvtapa ya hohoyo yvsh ilbvsslha 
 vhleha ha ittaiyara hoka: yvmnvvt pahaya tuk a im vhaksih 
 keya hoke. 
 
 Note 19, Page 68. 
 
 Vlhpesah keyu nan vnoli vt wvkayvt hieli cha, nanah 
 ithani lik keya ka a punaklo hoke. 
 
 Note 20, Page 68. 
 Chihowah itih ola kvt luah libbika chulhi hoke. 
 
 Note 21, Page 69. 
 
 A Chitakaka ma, Chitokaka ma nantak kvtiohmi (ho 
 is su kancihib choh? 
 
 Note 22, Page 69. 
 
 Nanah aehi kvt ikshoh vnnumpa hvt ikshoh; itih hvt 
 ola na haklo ka ikshoh kvmmok nrishke. 
 
 Note 23, Page 69. 
 
 Chilhowa ai ittvchvffa yvt i nukshopa putta ka iba- 
 foiyukka hoke. * 
 
 Note 24, Page 69. 
 
 Itih ha nan ai aMi hvt ikslio hoka: chukvsh vt nan 
 akpulo yoke; i nvlvpi vt ahullappi tiwa yoke; isunlvsh a 
 hvlvsbtehi hoke. 
 
 Note 25, Page 69. 
 Ilbvssh ya im vhaksi na billia he keya hoka. 
 
 Note 26, Page 70. 
 Aklah ittcchowa ya ai is sv hlakaffchi hoke. 
 
 Note 27, Page 70. 
 Nan ilbvsshali hvttak a im- is sv blafcuffichi hoke. 
 
 Note 28, Page 69. 
 
 Micha vm a svanalit itih ha vwatvchit WYkommishke; 
 hvlih, "yumanakhvlih, pi naslikit vt pisvshke," okla ach- 
 ishke. 
 
 Note 29, Page 71. 
 Chukvsh nan ai ahni ka ish emaknwt. 
 
 Note 30, Page 38. 
 
 Yohmia ma nukhuhela ka!h o yokni vt winakadhi dha 
 wvnnihichih mtL 
 
 144
 
 Note 31, Page 142. 
 
 Echo, according to classical mythology, was a nymph, 
 daughter of Air and Earth, who, for love of Narcissus, 
 pined away till nothing remained of her but voice. 
 
 The author s idea here is, that her regret and grief 
 for the loss of her lover were so great that she lost all 
 idea of propriety, and began to repeat everything she 
 heard established the phenomenon in Nature we call echo 
 and breached woman s law of etiquette; in fact, brought 
 that curse on woman. 
 
 Finis.
 
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