UNIVERSITY of CALIFORNIA AT LOS ANGELES LIBRARY /./ S=TI3:E=S:0 *^ Speaker ii ^b^WMti ■ AND f ITEEAMY ||©1[JQ¥ET. -VOli'Or^E 'K'K^ Ql ;COM B I N ING: DICE Selection^ is, 5, e, y ai 8, ;i. 3Vr B E/ .A. CI 3sr C3-r i*Vi^^ ^?^^ Standard Produciions Oratory, SaitUm&nt, Bio qui Pathos, Wit, ifufuor and Amateur Fiays, ±0 PHILADKLPiriA: ^ No. 708 Chestnut Street. 4L^'^ CHICAOO:— 130 E. Adams Sireet. 189S. J^^<~y^^^ Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1874, by Q£^ P. GARRETT & CO., ^^^^I^ in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. ''"-^'' — ^:^^^?^r * 'f3 oTATE NORMAL SCHOOL, liOS AKGELiES, CAli. 4 133 ^TO THE GOOD MD TRUE OF THE HATION,-^^^ To the Millions of Intelligent ^Readers and Speakers throughout our Country, and to all who appreciate Choice Literature, either in the (Parlor, School (Room, Library or Forum, l^il |(?(?ipf i? |r$pf f fWls %4\n\^i .^ UNIFORM PUBLICATIONS: TEE SPEAKER'S GARLAND, Vol. 1. (Containing "100 Choice Seiections," Nos. 1, 2. 3. 4.) THE SPEAKER'S GARLAND, Vol. IL (Containing "1Q0 Clioics Seiections," No». 5, 6, 7, 8.) THE SPEAKER'S GARLAND, Vol. Ill (Containing "100 Clioice Selections," Nos. 9, 10, II, 12.) TEE SPEAKER'S GARLAND,' Vol. IV. (Containing "100 Choic; Selections," Nos. 33, ;4, 15, 16.) THE SPEAKER'S GARLAND, Vol, V. (Containing "100 Cliolce Selections," Nos. 17, 18, 19, 20.) THE SPEAKER'S GARLAND, Vol. VI. (Containing "100 Choice Selections," Not. 21, 22, 23, 24.) THE SPEAKER'S GARLAND, Vol VII. (Containing "100 Choice Selections," Nos. 25, 26, 27, 28.) THE SPEAKER'S GARLAND, Vol. VIII. (Containing "100 Choice Selections," Nos. 29, 30, 31, 32.) Frice, per "^ol-a.m.e, Clotla., - - - ^l.TS, CONTENTS. : — ♦•♦ ^SELECTIONS IN POETRY. Atheist, Tlie WiUiam Knox. T. 50 Afl'ectation in the Puljiit , WilUaiu Coirper. v. 92 Annabel Lee Eilyar A. Poe. v. 122 Absence Frances Anne Kemble. v. 127 At the Wind(iw— An Extract Alfred Tennyson, v. 132 Annie and Willie's Prayer Sojiliia P. Snow. v. 166 All's for the Best M. F. Tupper. vi. 7 Answer to "I am Dying" Rev. William Lanrie. vi. 25 Address to the JVIuiumy at Belzoni's Exhibition Horace Smith, vi. 93 Answer of Belzoni's Mummy vi. 95 Are the Children at Home? .V. E. Songster, vi. 126 Answer to " Five O'clock in the Morning" vii. 45 Answer to "Leoaa" vii. 48 Alonzo the Brave, and the Fair Imogine 3f. G. Lewis, vii. 68 At Last Clarkson Clothier, vii. 88 Agony Bells Altie Wellington, vii. 167 As "Old Giles Saw It" D. S. Cohen, vii. 168 All's Well viii. 22 Abram and Ziniri Clarence Cook. viii. 34 "Are You a Mason ? " liev. Mr. H!ogill. viii. 106 Across the Eiver Lucy Larcom. viii. 130 ■^'Sill and Joe 0. W. Uolmes. v. 49 Battle of Ivry, The T. B. Mtcanlay. v. 71 Blacksmith's Story, The Frank Olive, v. 88 Blue and the Gray, The F. M. Finch, v. 154 Balance Wheel, The Elmer Ituan Coates. v. 172 . Bill Mason's Bride Bret 11 arte. vi. 120 By the SliorK of the KivtT C. P. Cranch. vii. 8 *XoTK.— As uHcli of the four NuiuIi'Tm i of the " lUU Choice SekK'tions" Suries) cont-'iined in this volume is paged independently of tlie others, the index must necessarily accord therewith. The column of Roman Notation designates the different Numbers of the "Series" (viz., 5, 6, 7, 8 ; and the fignrcx refer to the page of the corresponding Numlier. Take, for instance, "All's for the Best," the characters VI. show that it will be found in No. 6, and the figures following give the page. The dilTiTent Numbers are given at the top of every right-hand jiage " 'lUghout the book. <^FoB Srlectiovs in Pbose, bee paqe XII. — Foa Dramas and Dulgoves, PAOE XIV. V VI CONTENTS. Borrioboola Glia Orrin Goodrich, vii. 29 Boy who Went from Huiue, The Enouu M. Juhnslon. vii. 121 Burial of the Daue, The U. M. Brownell. viii. 23 Bridge of Truth, The viii. 4C Baggage Fiend, The viii. 81 Beautiful Dreams viii. 86 Ben Fisher Frances Dana Gage. viii. Ill Battle of Blenheim, The Kobert Soulhey. viii. 159 Burial of Sir John Moore Charles Wolfe, viii. 160 Bull Fight, The Byron, viii. 169 Compensation v. £0 Chicago Dwight Williams, v. 32 Crape on the Door v. 36 Catiline's last Harangue to his Ariay 7ieii. George Croly. v. 149 Comical Dun, A John McKeever. v. 164 Char-co-o-al v. 181 Claude Melnotte's Apology E. Bulwer Lytton. vi. 136 Conscience and Future Judgment vi. 138 Charcoal Man, The J. T. Troichridge. vi. 181 Cheer Up vii. 7 Cid and Bavieca, The vii. 147 Coquette Punished, A , viii. 36 Clown's Story, The Vandyke Browne, viii. 48 Cassius against Ciesar Shakspeare. viii. 56 Dying Brigand, The v. 14 Deeds Versus Creeds Annie I Mitzzey. v. 25 Death of an Inebriate v. 55 Dora Alfred Tennyson, v. 61 Deborah Lee. — A Parody v. 123 Drafted Mrs. H. L. Bostwick. r. 162 Dying Boy, The v. 161 Dermot's Parting vi. 14 Doctor and his Apples, The vi. 20 Deacon Monroe's Story JV. S. Emerson, vi. 36 Death of Gaudentis Harriet Annie, vi. 75 Dirge Charles G. Eastman, vi. 88 Dreams and Realities Phebe Cury, vi. 158 Dying Alchemist, The N. P. Willis, vi. 174 Deacon Hezekiah vi. 186 Dickens in Camp Bret Harte. vii. 157 Damon to the Syracusans John B'inim. vii. 177 Der Baby viii. 96 Dirge, A Eev. George Orohj. viii. 100 Death-Ride, The Westland ISIarston. viii. 103 Dying Street Arab, The Matthias Barr. viii. 154 Drummer's Bride, The viii. 175 Dying Hymn, A Alice Gary. viii. 176 Engineer's Story, The vi. 72 Emblems Richard Coe. vi. 83 CONTENTS. VII No. Page. Eleventh Hour, The Anna L. liuth. vi. 123 Erin's Flag Father Jlyan. vii. 38 Example vii. 1T7 Eagle's Rock, The viii. U EtiJurance Elizabeth Akers. viii. 28 Exile to his Wife, The Joe Bretmaii. viii. 53 Elegy written in a Couutry Church-Yard Thomas Gray. viii. 82 Faithful Lovers, The vi. 83 Fitz James and RoUerick Dhu Sir Walter Scott, vi. 123 First Appearance in Typo Oliixr Wendell Holmes, vi. 183 Frenchman and the Rats, The vi. 189 Factory Girl's Last Day, The vii. 36 Friar Philip vii. 173 Faith and Works Alice Cary. viii. CI Forest Hymn, A William CuUcn Bryant, viii. 114 First Parting, The Marian Bouglas. viii. 141 Golden Shoes „ v. 142 Giles and Abraham Elmer liuan Conies, vi. 54 Gradatim J. G. Holland, vi. 60 Green Mountain Justice, The 7?ei>, Henry li«eves. vi. 118 Griper Greg vii. 52 Gray Swan, Tlie Alice Cary. vii. 63 Gladiator, Tlie „ J. A. Jones, vii. 81 Gravesof the Patriots, The J. G. Pcrciial. vii. 156 Galley Slave, The Henry Abbey, vii. 153 Glove and the Lions, The Leigh Hunt, y'lii. 18 Ilarmosan Itichard C. Trench, v. 44 Hotspur's Defence Shalatpeare. v. 78 How Betsey and 1 Made Up Will Carleton. v. 157 Heavier the Cross Schmolke. vi. 34 Home Picture, A Frances Dana Gage. vi. 43 Hymn to the Flowers , Horace Smith, vi. 105 How's my Boy Si/dney iJobell. vi. 148 Helvellyn iSir W. Priiiliss. viii. 64 Mahmoud Leigh Hunt. viii. 77 Magical Isle, The viii. ' 90 New Thanatopsis Win. II. Ilolcomhe. v. 96 Nantucket Skipper, The Jaiiies T. Fields, v. 102 Now I lay me Down to Sk>ep v. 109 Nothing at all in the Paper To-Day vi. 26 New Church Organ, The Will Cnilh. vui. 88 Child's Dream of a Star, A Charles Diclens. v. 16 Cousin Sally Dilliard H. C. Junes, v. 94 Catiline Expelled Oteero. v. 163 Crossing the Carry liev. \V. U. H. Murray, v. 182 Catastrophe, A '•• ^^ Census- Taker's Experience,A '^ ^^^ Character of Henry Clay William H. Seward. viL 94 Duelist's Honor, The Bifhop England, v. 74 Darkey's Counsel to the Newly M:irried Ed'iund Kirke. v. 171 Deaf as a Post vi. 63 Duty of the American Scliolar .Oeorge W. Curtis, vi. 68 Difficulty about that Dog, The vi. I(i8 Drunkard's Death, The Charles Dickens, vi. 115 Dream of the "Fat Contributor" A. Minnr Orimrold. vi. 160 David Copperfield and his Child-Wife Charles Dickens, vi. 166 Double Bed, The vii. 131 Dumb-Waiter, The Frederic S. Cozzens. vii. 178 Dignity of Labor, The Neinnnn Hall. viii. 9 Dishonest Politician, The // nrij Ward Beechei: viii. 38 David, King of Israel Edward lr>nnri. viii. 92 Death of Little Nell Charles Dickens, viii. 171 Existence of a God, Tlie r. 51 Extract from a Speech on Temperance Schv>/Jer Colfax, v. 128 ^Eloquence Leiris Cn-vi. vi. 11 /Examples for Ireland T. F.Meagher, vi. 131 Eulogy on Lafayette Charles Spragite. vi. 151 Eloquence and Logic W. C. Preston, vii. 9 Education Schuyler Colfax, vii. 71 Freedom and Patriotism Orville Deicey. viii. 65 Gape-Seed George W. Bnngnjj. v. 87 Give me Back my Husband v. 106 High Art— Music Cliarles n. Clark, vi. 84 How Terry Saved his Bnrnn vi. 153 *Sec Explanatory Note on pwge v. CONTENTS. XIII No. Page. Irish Letter, An v. 60 ludiaus, The Joseph Story, v. 100 Infamuus Legislatiuii Edmund Burke, v. Ill Imitation vii. 16 Immortality Massillon. viii. 24 Jenkins Goes to a Pic-nic vi. 46 Jerusalem by Moonlight Benjuiuin Disraeli, vi. 187 Jimmy Butler and the Owl vii. 64 King and the Locusts, The viii. 32 Literary Pursuits and Active Business A. H. Everett, vi. 39 Lord Dundreary at Brighton vii. 143 Life's Battle. — An Oration vii. 164 Mark Twain's Account of "Jim Smilry" S. L. Clemens, v. 36 Mr. Caudle Having Lent Five Pounds to a Friend... Iioh(//iis Jerrold. v. 68 Mouse-Hunting B. P. Sliillaher. v. 136 Mrs. Caudle has taken Cold Douglas Jerrold. vi. 97 Mark Twain on Juvenile Pugilists S. L. Clemens, vi. 124 Miss Malony on the Chinese Question Mary M. Dodge, vi. 133 Mad Engineer, The vii. 39 Mr. Stiver's Horse James M. Bailey, vii. 103 Mark Twain Edits an Agricultural Paper S. L.*Clemens. vii. 118 Mr Perkins Helps to move a Stove James M. Bailey, viii. 19 Melting Moments viii. 46 Model Love-Letter, A..V. Tiii. 101 Mr. Perkins Buys a Dog James M. Bailey, y'lii. 134 Mark Twain tells an Anecdote of A Ward S. L. Clemens, viii. 154 Man of-Expedients, The S Gilman. viii. 166 Noble Revenge, The vi. 76 Night with a Ventriloquist, A Henry Cockton. vi. 141 National Banner, The Edward Ererett. vi. 183 Noble Revenge Thomas De Quincy. vii. 171 Old Yankee Farmer, The v. 108 One Niche the Highest Elihu Bnrrilt. vii. 22 Oratory and the Press Daniel Dougherty, viii. 107 Power of Habit, The John B. Gough. v. 86 Putting lip Stoves V. 151 Public Virtue Nenry Clay. v. 156 Patriotism T. F. Meagher, vi. 67 Poxt Nummos Virtus Archhishop Spaulding. vii. 84 Political Corruption George McDuffie. vii. 110 Patrick O'Rouko and the Frogs George W. Bungay, viii. 60 Railroad Car Scene, A v. 26 Rome and Carthage Victor Hugo. vi. 62 Recollections of my Christmas Tree Charles Dickens, viii. 62 Ridla's Address to the Peruvians R. B. f^heridan. viii. 81 Rip Van Winkle Washington Irving, viii. 118 XIV CONTENTS. No. Page. Slight Misunderstanding, The v. 11 ghepherd of the People, Tlie lieu. Phillips Brooks, v. 58 Sorrow for the Dead Washingbon Irving, v. 120 Sketch of the " Old Coachiug Diiya," A John Poole, vi. 27 Snow of Age, The vi. 8!) Struggle with a Stove-Pipe, A James M. Bailey, vii 34 Socks for John KandalJ Mrs. P. H. Phelps, vii. 148 Speech by Obadiah Partington Swipes vii. 160 Simon Short's Son Samuel viii. 74 Speech of Vindication Robert Emmett. viii. 139 Strong Drink.. J. A. Seiss. viii. 177 Tomb of Washington, Tlie ; J. W. Savage, v. 143 Thrilling Sketch : Salalhiel. viii. 140 True Source of Reform, The Edwin H. Chnpin. viii. ICl Union linked with Liberty Andrew Jackson, vii. 124 Value of Keputation Charles Phillips, v. 79 Voices of the Dead Kev. John Cumming, vi. 17 Visit to Tomkinsville University, A vii. 78 Worth of Eloquence, The v. 9 Who Would bo a Boy Again ? vii. 90 What Might Have Been? viii. 125 Supplementary Paoes. Sentiments, Life Thoughts, Witticisms and Funny Sayings. DRAMAS AND DIALOGUES. An Electric Episode Helen Booth, vi. 207 BillJepson's Wife Roberta V.Meyers, vi. 201 Conqueror Conquered, The George S. Burleigh, viii. 193 Cold-Water Cross .-... viii. 199 Demons of the Glass, The Oliver Optic, viii. 201 Frightened Lodger, A H. Elliott McBride. v. 214 Ghost Scene from "Hamlet" Shakspeare. vii. 206 Long-Lost Nephew, The Robert C. V.Meyers, vii. 193 Mind Tour own Business H. EllioU McBride. v. 225 Miss Higgiuson^s Will J. A. Bellows, v. 233 Queer Fit, A v. 201 Saved viiL 211 Trusty and True Mrs. Clara A. Si/lvester. v. 206 Two Lives George 31. Vickers. viii. 216 Vanity Vanquished II. Elliott McBride. vi. 216 Veiled Priestess, The .Laura U. Case. viii. 205 fart Ml I EcLcft of the FovLT JVizTTxhers of " lOO Chotae Selections'' contciined tn tlxts voliZTne is paged, sepcurcttely , CLTtd the Indes: ts TrhCLd.e to coTres- pond tTxereTVztTz. See EXPLANATION otl first page of Contents. The eittire hooTz contains nearly 10 OO pages. 100 CHOICE SELECTIONS No. 5. PRESS ON.— Park Benjamin. Press on ! there's no such word as fail ; Press nobly on ! the goal is near ; Ascend the mountain ! breast the gale ! Look upward, onward, — never fear! Why shouldst thou faint? Heaven smiles above Though storm and vapor intervene; That sun shines on, whose name is love, Serenely o'er life's shadowed scene. Press on ! surmount the rocky steeps. Climb boldly o'er the torrents' arch ; He fails alone who feebly creeps ; He wins who dares the hero's march. Be thou a hero ! let thy might Tramp on eternal snows its»way, And through the ebon walls of night, Hew down a passage unto day. Press on ! if once, and twice thy feet Slip l)ack and stumble, harder try ; From him who never dnsads to meet Danger and death, they're sure to fly. To coward ranks tlie bullet speeds; While on their breasts wlio never quail, Gleams, guardian of chivalric deeds. Bright courage, like a coat of mail. 7 ONE HUNDRED CHOICE SELECTIONS Press on! if fortune play thee false To-day, to-morrow she'll be true; Whom now she sinks, she now exalts, Taking old gifts and granting new. The wisdom of the present hour Makes up for follies past and gone ; To weakness strength succeeds, and power From frailty springs ;— Press on ! Pkess on ! Press on ! what though upon the ground Thy love has been poured out like rain? That happiness is always found The sweetest that is born of pain. Oft mid the forest's deepest glooms, A bird sings from some blighted tree; And in the dreariest desert blooms A never-dying rose for thee. Therefore, press on ! and reach the goal. And gain the prize, and wear the crown; Faint not ! for to the steadfast soul, Come wealth and honor and renown. To thine own self be true, and keep Thy mind from sloth, thy heart from soil ; Press on ! and thou shalt surely reap A heavenly harvest for thy toil. SAVED.— JiiNNiK Joy. Come ! hurry up, Jim ; don't you see the moon is comin' out? What makes you lag so far behind? D'ye mind what you're about? I want to reach that patch of corn while yet the moon is hid Beneath the clouds — now start your pegs, and do as you are bid. Jim ! are vou crvin'? — now for shame, you chicken hearted lad'! Don't want to help me take the corn— don't want to help your dad ? Old Todd won't see us pick the ears — we'll bag five bushel, clear ; We cannot starve; I ha'n't a cent, I spent the last for beer. You needn't be afraid, now, Jim ! there's not a soul around ; 'Tis almost midnight — Todd's asleep, and so's his blooded hound. NUMBER FIVE. ^ I allers gin you credit, lad, for being bold and brave; And I have hearn you say that fears should ne'er make you their slave. I'll let you have a dozen ears— the largest that we take- To feed your pig, and some we'll grind to make a Johnny- cake. . , 1 XI i I owe Sam Stokes a little bill of drinks, and other traps ; The rest will have to go to him-and you may taste my Schnapps. Now jump the fence— and mind your eye! Don't speak above a breath ; ,,,-,■. If that confounded hound should wake, he'd be our very death. , . i . • ^ I'm glad the clouds have got so thick— the night is pesky Now here's the bag-what is it, Jim? I thought you whis- pered — Hark ! The clouds are scatterin'— there's the moon ! Too bad, but We'll fill the sacks, and hurry home, I'm hankerin' fur some What dkl^j^u say, Jim ?-are you sure ? I hope it ain't old " Look up " d'ye say ? ''we're surely seen; we cannot hide from Go'df" Jim! Jim! my boy, I guess you're right; here, take the 'Tis drhT\^hatT brought your dad to this, and clothed us both in rags. ^er^r^A. It was not fear that made you lag, unless twas fear ol (yoa , D'ye think he'd hear you if you prayed ?-I do not mean old Todd. " Yesf " well, kneel down— my words are rough, too rough for such as he, . But may be he will hear my boy, and pity even me. I'll taste no more the damning stuff! Take heart, poor, sut- fering lad ; , i j Thank (i.).l! your prayer has blessed my soul-yes, saved your weak, old dad. THE WORTH OF ELOQUENCE. Let us not, gentlemen, undervalue the art of the ora- tor. Of till the efforts of the human mind, it is the most astonishing iu its nature, and the most transcendent in 10 ONE HUNDRED CHOICE SELECTIONS its immediate triumphs. The wisdom of the philoso- pher, the eloquence of the historian, the sagacity of the statesman, the capacity of the general, may produce more lasting effects upon human affairs ; but they are incomparably less rapid in their influence, and less in- toxicating from the ascendency they confer. In the sol- itude of his library, the sage meditates on the truths which are to influence the thoughts and direct the con- duct of men in future times ; amid the strife of faction the legislator discerns the measures calculated, after a long course of years, to alleviate existing evils, or pro- duce happiness yet unborn ; during long and wearisome campaigns the commander throws his shield over the fortunes of his country, and prepares in silence and amid obloquy the means of maintaining its independence. But the triumphs of the orator are immediate; his influence is instantly felt ; his, and his alone, it is "The applause of listening senates to command, The threats of pain and ruin to despise, To scatter plenty o'er H smiling land, And read his history in a nation's eyes ! " "I can c6nceive," says Cicero, "of no accomplishment more to be desired than to be able to captivate the affec- tions, charm the understanding, and direct or restrain, at pleasure, the will of whole assemblies. This single art has, amongst every free people, commanded the greatest encouragement, and been attended with the most surprising effects. For what can be more astonish- ing, than that from an immense multitude one man should come forth, the only, or almost the only man who can do what nature has made attainable by all? Or can anything impart to the ears and the understanding a pleasure so pure as a discourse which at once delights by its elocution, enlists the passions by its rhetoric, and carries captive the conviction by its logic ? " What triumph more noble and magnificent than that of the eloquence of one man, swaying the inclinations of the people, the consciences of judges, and the majesty of senates ? Nay, farther, can aught be esteemed so grand, NUMBER FIVE. 11 SO generous, SO public-spirited, as to relieve the suppliant, to raise up the prostrate, to communicate happiness, to avert danger, to save a fellow-citizen from exile and wroniz ? Can auoht be more desirable than to have always ready those weapons wiih which we can at once defend the weak, assail the profligate, and redress our own or our country's injuries? " But, apart from the utility of this art in the forum, the rostrum, the senate, and on the bench, can any- thing in retirement from business be more delightful, more socially endearing, than a language and elocution agreea'ble and polished on every subject? For the great characteristic of our nature — that which distinguishes us from brutes — is our capacity of social intercourse, our ability to convey our ideas by words. Ought it not, then, to be pre-eminently our study to excel mankind in that very faculty which constitutes their superiority over brutes ? " Upon the eloquence and spirit of an accomplished orator may often depend, not only his own dignity, but the welfare of a government, nay, of a people. Go on, then, ye who would attain this inestimable art. Ply the study you have in hand, pursue it with singleness of pur- pose, at once for your own h(mor, for the advantage of your friends, and for the service of your country." THE SLIGHT MISUNDERSTANDING. Not long since a sober middle-aged gentleman was quietly dozing in one of our railroad trains, when his pleasant, drowsy meditations were suddenly interrupted by the sharp voice of the individual by his side. This Wiis no less a personage than a dandified, liot-blooded, inquisitive Frenchman, who raised his hairy visage close to that of the gentleman he addressed. "Pardonnez, sare ; but vat you do viz ze pictair — hein f " 12 ONE HUNDRED CHOICK SELKCTIONS As he spoke, monsieur pointed to some beautiful steel plate engravings, in frames, which the quiet gentleman held in his lap, and which suited the fancy of the little French connoisseur precisely. The quiet gentleman looked at the inquisitive foreigner with a scowl which he meant to be very forbidding, and made no reply. The Frenchman, nothing daunted, once more approached his hairy visage into that of his com- panion, and repeated the question. " Vat you do viz ze pictair — hein f " " I am taking them to Salem," replied the quiet gen- tleman, gruffly. " Ha ! you take 'em to sell 'em ! " chimed in the shrill voice of the Frenchman. " I be glad of zat, I like ze pic- tair. I buy 'em of you, sare. How much you ask ? " " They are not for sale ! " replied the sleepy gentle- man — more thoroughly awake, by-the-by, and not a lit- tle irritated. "Hein f " grunted monsieur, in astonishment. " Vat you say, sare ? " " I say I don't want to sell the pictures ! " cried the other, at the top of his voice. "Peste! c'est drole !" exclaimed the Frenchman, his eye beginning to flash with passion. " It is one strange circumstance, parbleu! I ask you vat you do viz ze pic- tair, and you say you take 'em to sell 'em, and zen you vill not sell 'em ! Vat you mean, sare — hein ? " " I mean what I say," replied the other, sharply. " I don't want to sell the engravings, and I didn't say I did." "Morbleu ! " sputtered monsieur, in a tone loud enough to attract the attention of those of his fellow travelers who were not already listening; "morbleu! you mean to say I 'ave not any ear? Non, monsieur, I hear ver' well vat you tell me. You say you sell ze pictair. Is it be- cause I one Frenchman, zat you will not sell me ze pic- tair?" The irritated gentleman, hoping to rid himself of the annoyance, turned his back upon his assailant, and made no reply. NUMBER FIVE. 13 But raousieur was not to be put off thus. He laid his haud uu the shoulder of the other, aud showing his small white teeth, exclaimed — "Monsieur, zis is too much. You've give me one in- sult, and I shall 'ave satisfaction." Still no reply. " Mon- sieur," continued the Frenchman, "you are not one gen- tleman, I shall call you one poltroon, vat you call 'em ? — coward ! " " What do you mean," retorted the other, afraid the aff.iir Avas getting serious; " I haven't insulted you, sir." " Pardouuez, monsieur, but it is one grand insult ! In Am jrica, perhaps not ; but in France, one blow your br.iins out." " For what, pray ? " " For vat ? Parbleu f you call me one menteur — how you speak 'em — liar ! You call me one liar ! " " Oh no, sir. You misunderstood " "No, sare! I've got ears. You say you vill sell ze pictair ; and ven I tell you vat you say, you say ze con- trarie — zat is not so ! " " Bat I didn't tell you I would sell the pictures," re- monstrated the man with the engravings, beginning to faal alarmed at the passion manifested by the other. " You misunderstood " " I tell you no ! It is not posseebl' ! When I ask you vat you do viz ze pictair, vat you say ? " " I said I was taking them to Salem." " Yes, parbleu ! " exclaimed monsieur, more angry than ever, " you say you take 'era to sell 'em " " No, no ! " interrupted the other, "not to sell them, but Silem — 'the City of Salem." " Ze city of Sell 'em ! " exclaimed the Frenchman, amid the roars of laughter that greeted his ears. "Zat is one grand mistake. Pardon, monsieur! Que je suis bete! The city of Sell 'em? Ha-ha! I will remember zat mistake!" And he stroked his moustache with his fingers, wliile tlu^ man with the engravings once more gave way to his drowsy inclinations. 14 ONE HUNDRED CHOICE SELECTIONS THE DYING BRIGAND. She stood before the dying man, And her eye grew wildly bright: "Ye will not pause for a woman's ban, Nor shrink from a woman's might ; And his glance is dim that made you fly, As ye before have fled : Look, dastards! how the brave can die — Beware ! he is not dead ! " By his blood you've tracked him to his lair ! Would you bid the spirit part? He that durst harm one single hair Must reach it through my heart. I cannot weep, for my brain is dry ; Nor plead, for I know not how ; But my aim is sure, and the shaft may fly, And the bubbling life-blood flow ! " Yet leave me, while dim life remains, To list his partiHg sigh ; To kiss away those gory stains. To close his beamless eye ! Ye will not! no— he triumphs still. Whose foes his death-pangs dread ; His was the power, yours but the will — Back, back, he is not dead ! "His was the power that held in thrall, Through many a glorious year. Priests, burghers, nobles, princes — all Slaves worship, hate, or fear. Wrongs, insults, injuries thrust him forth A bandit-chief to dwell ; How he avenged his slighted worth, Ye, cravens, best may tell ! " His spirit lives in the mountain breath. It flows in the mountain wave ; Rock— stream— hath done the work of death Yon deep ravine— the grave ! That which hath been again may be! Ah ! by yon fleeting sun, Who stirs, no morning ray shall see — His sand of life has run ! " NUMBEEFIVE. 16 Defiance shone in her flashing eye. But her heart beat wild with fear ; She starts — the bandit's last faint sigh Breathes on her sharpened ear. She gazes on each stiliening limb, And the death-damp chills her brow: " For him I lived — I die with him I Slaves, do your office now 1 " OUR FOLKS— Ethel Lynn. " Hi ! Harry Holly I Halt —and tell A fellow just a thing or two ; You've had a furlough, been to see How all the folks in Jersey do. It's months ago since I was there, — I, and a bullet from Fair Oaks, When you were home, old comi-ade, say, Did you see any of our folks ? " You did ? Shake hands, — oh, aint I glad ; For if I do look grim and rough, I've got some feelin' — people think A soldier's heart is mighty tough ; But, Harry, when the bullets fly, And hot saltpetre flames and smokes, While whole battalions lie afield, One's apt to think about his folks. "And so you saw them— when ? and where ? The old man — is he hearty yet? And mother — does she fade at all ? Or does she seem to pine and fret For me ? And Sis ?— has she grown tall ? And did you see her friend— you know. That Annie Moss— (how this pipe chokes!) Where did you see her — tell me, Hal, A lot of news about our folks. " You saw them in the church, you say ; It's likely, for they're always there. Not Sunday ? No ? A funeral? Who? Who, Harry ? How you shake and stare! ^11 well, you say, and all were out. What ails you, Hal ? Is this a hoax ? BB 16 ONE HUNDRED CHOICE SELECTIONS Why don't you tell me, like a man, What is the matter with our folks?" " I said all well, old comrade, true ; I say all well, for He knows best Who takes the young ones in his arms, Before the sun goes to the west. The axe-man Death deals left and right, And flowers fall as well as oaks ; And so— fair Annie blooms no more ! And that's the matter with your folks. " See, this long curl was kept for you ; And this white blossom from her breast; And here— your sister Bessie wrote A letter, telling all the rest. Bear up, old friend." Nobody speaks; Only the old camp-raven croaks. And soldiers whisper : " Boys, be still ; There's some bad news from Grainger's folks.' He turns bis back — the only foe That ever saw it -on this grief. And, as men will, keeps down the tears Kind nature sends to woe's relief. Then answers he, "Ah, Hal, I'll try ; But in my throat there's something chokes, Because, you see, I've thought so long To count her in among our folks. " I s'pose she must be happy now, But still I will keep thinking, too, I could have kept all trouble off. By being tender, kind, and true. But maybe not. She's safe up there, And when His hand deals other strokes, She'll stand by heaven's gate, I know, And wait to welcome in our folks." A CHILD'S DREAM OF A STAR. Charles Dickens. There was once a child, and he strolled about a good deal, and thought of a number of things. He had a sis- ter who was a child, too, and his constant corapanion. NUMBER FIVE. 17 These two used to wonder all day long. They wondered at the beauty of the fl(jwers ; they wondered at the height and blueness of the sky ; they wondered at the depth of the bright water ; they wondered at the goodness and the power of God, who made the lovely world. They used to say to one another, sometimes : Suppos- ing all the children upon earth were to die, would the flowers, and the water, and the sky be sorry ? They be- lieved they would be sorry. For, said they, the buds are the children of the flowers, and the little playful streams that gambol down the hillsides are the children of the water, and the smallest bright specks playing at hide and seek in the sky all night must surely be the children of the stars; and ttey would all be grieved to see their playuiates, the children of men, no more. There was one clear shining star that used to come out in the sky before the rest, near the church spire, above the graves. It was larger and more beautiful, they thought, than all the others, and every night they watched for it, standing hand-in-hand at a window. "Whoever saw it fii'st, cried out, "I see the star." And often, they cried out both together, knowing so well when it would rise, and where. So they grew to be such friends with it that, before laying d )\vn in their bed, they always looked out once again to bid it good night ; and when they were turning round to sleep, they used to say, " God bless the star ! " But while she was still very young, oh, very, very young, the sister drooped, and came to be so weak that she could no longer stand in the window at night, and then the child looked sadly out by himself, and when he saw the star, turned round and said to the patient pale face on the bed, " I sec the star! " and then a smile would come upon the face, and a little weak voice used to say, " God bless my brother and the star ! " -' And so the time came, all too soon, when the child looked out alone, and when there was no face on the bed, and when there was a little grave among the graves, not 18* ONE HUNDRED CHOICE SELECTIONS there before, and when the star made long rays down towards him, as he saw it through his tears. Now these rays were so bright, and they seemed to make such a shining way from earth to heaven, that when the child went to his solitary bed, he dreamed about the star ; and dreamed that, lying where he was, he saw a train of people taken up that sparkling road by angels. And the star, opening, showed him a great world of light, where many more such angels waited to receive them. All these angels, who were waiting, turned their beam- ing eyes upon the people who were carried up into the star ; and some came out from the long rows in which they stood, and fell upon the people's necks, and kissed them tenderly, and went away with them down avenues of light, and were so happy in their company, that lying in his bed he wept for joy. But there were many angels who did not go with them, and among them one he knew. The patient face that once had lain upon the bed was glorified and radiant, but his heart found out his sister among all the host. His sister's ancjel lingrered near the entrance of the star, and said to the leader among those who had brought the people thither: " Is my brother come? " And he said, " No ! " She was turning hopefully away, when the child stretched out his arms, and cried, " Oh, sister, I am here ! Take me ! " And then she turned her beaming eyes upon him, — and it was night ; and the star was shining into the room, making long rays down towards him as he saw it through his tears. From that hour forth, the child looked out upon the star as the home he was to go to when his time should come ; and he thought that he did not belong to the earth alone, but to the star, too, because of his sister's an2;el gone before. There was a baby born to be a brother to the child, and, while he was so little that he never yet had spokeu NUMBER FIVE. 19 a word, he stretched his tiny form out on his bed, and died. Again the child dreamed of the opened star, and of the company of angels, and the train of people, and tlie rows of angels, with their beaming eyes all turned upon those people's faces. Said his sister's angel to the leader : " Is my brother come ? " And he said, " Not that one, but another ! " As the child beheld his brother's angel in her arms, he cried, " Oh, my sister, I am here! Take me?" And she turned and smiled upon him — and the star was shining. He grew to be a young man, and was busy at his books, when an old servant came to him and said : " Thy moth- er is no more. I bring her blessing on her darling son." Again at night he saw the star, and all that former company. Said his sister's angel to the leader, " Is my brother come ? " And he said, " Thy mother ! " A mighty cry of joy went forth through all the star, because the mother was re-united to her two children. And he stretched out his hands and cried, " Oh, mother, sister, and brother, I am here ! Take me ! " And they answered him, " Not yet ! " — and the star was shining. He grew to be a man, whose hair was turning gray, and he was sitting in his chair by the fireside, heavy with grief, and with his face beiewed with tears, when the star opened once again. Said liis sister's angel to the leader, " Is my brother come? " And he said, " Nay, but his maiden daughter ! " And the man who had been the child saw his daugh- ter, newly lost to him, a celestial creature among those three, and he said : " My daughter's head is on my sis- ter's bosom, and her arm is around my mother's neck, and at her feet is the bal)y of old time, and I can bear the parting from her, God be praised 1 " — And the star was shining. 20 ONE HUNDRED CHOICE SELECTIONS Thus the child came to be an old man, and his once smooth face was wrinkled, and his steps were slow and feeble, and his back was bent. And one night as he lay upon his bed, his children standij^g round, he cried, as he had cried so long ago : " I see the star 1 " They whispered one another, " He is dying." And he said, " I am. My age is falling from me like a garment, and I move towards the star as a child. And O my Father, now I thank Thee that it has so often opened to receive those dear ones who await me ! " — And the star was shining ; and it shines upon his grave. THE WHISKERS.- Samuel Woodwortfi. The kings who ruled mankind with haughty sway, The prouder pope, whom even kings obey, Love, at whose shrine both popes and monarchs fall. And e'en self interest, that controls them all. Possess a petty power, when all combined. Compared with fashion's influence on mankind — For love itself will oft to fashion bow ; The following story will convince you how: A petit-maUre wooed a fair. Of virtue, wealth, and graces rare ; But vainly had preferred his claim. The maiden owned no answering flame; At length by doubt and anguish torn. Suspense too jjainful to be borne. Low at lier feet he humbly kneeled, And thus his ardent fiame revealed : " Pity my grief, angelic fair. Behold my anguish and despair ; For you, this heart must ever burn — Oh bless me with a kind return ! My love, no language can express, Reward it then, with happiness; Nothing on earth but you I prize, All else is trifling in my eyes ; And cheerfully would I resign The wealth of worlds to call you mine. NUMBER FIVE. ?1 But, if another gain your hand, Far distant from my native land, Far hence from you and hope I'll fly, And in some foreign region die." The virgin heard, and thus replied : " If my consent to be your bride Will make you happy, then be blest; But grant me, first, one small request ; A sacrifice I must demand, And in return will give my hand." "A sacrifice ! Oh speak its name ! For you I'd forfeit wealth and fame ; Take my whole fortune, every cent — " " 'Twas something more than wealth I meant." " Must I the realms of Neptune trace ? Oh speak the word ! Where'er the place— For you, the idol of my soul, I'd e'en explore the frozen pole ; Arabia's sandy deserts tread, Or trace the Tigris to its head." " Oh, no, dear sir, I do not ask So long a voyage, so hard a task ; You must— but ah ! the boon I want, I have no hoi)e that you will grant." " Shall I, like Bonaparte, aspire To be the world's imperial sire ? Express the wish, and here I vow, To place a crown upon your brow." " Sir, these are trifles," she replied ; " But, if you wish me for your bride, You must— but still I fear to speak. You'll never grant the boon I seek." " Oh say," he cried, "dear angel, say What must I do, and I obey ; No longer rack me with sus{>ense, Speak your commands, and send me hence." " Well, then, dear generous yinch of mortal dust : A few swift years, and who can show Which dust was Bill, and which was Joe ? The weary idol takes bis stand, Holds out his bruised and aching hand. While gaping thousands come and go — How vain it seems, this empty show ! — Till all at once his pulses thrill : 'TIS poor old Joe's " God bless you, Bill ! " And shall we breathe in happier spheres The names that pleased our mortal ears, — In some sweet lull of harp and song, For earth-born spirits none too long, — Just whispering of the world below, Where this was Bill and that was Joe? i. No matter ; while our home is here No sounding name is half so dear ; When fades at length our lingering day, Who cares what pompous tombstones say ? % Read on the hearts that love us still, ^ Sic jacei Joe. Jlic jacet Bill. s THE ATHEIST.— Wm. Knox. The fool hath said "There is no God ! " No God ! — Who lights the morning sun, And sends him on his heavenly road, A far and brilliant course to run ? Who, when the radiant day is done, Hangs forth the moon's nocturnal lamp. And bids the planets, one by one. Steal o'er the night vales, dark and damp 1 No God ! — Who gives the evening dew, The fanning breeze, the fostering shower? Who warms the spring-morn's budding bough, And plants the summer's noontide flower ? Who spreads in the autumnal bower The fruit tree's mellow stores around. And sends the winter's icy power, To invigorate the exhausted ground? N U M B E R F I V E. 51 No God I — Who makes the bird to wing Its tligiit like arrow through the sky, And gives the deer its power to spring From rock to rock triumphantly ? Who formed behemoth, huge and high, That at a draught the river drains, And great leviathan to lie, Like floating isle, on ocean plains ? * No God ! — Who warms the heart to heave With thousand feelings soft and sweet. And prompts the aspiring soul to leave The earth we tread beneath our feet, And soar away on pinions fleet Beyond the scenes of mortal strife, With fair ethereal forms to meet, That tell us of the after life ? No God ! — Who fixed the solid ground Of pillars strong, that alter not ? Who spread the curtained skies around? Who doth the ocean bounds allot? Who all things to perfection brought On earth below, in heaven above ? Go ask the fool, of impious thought, W^ho dares to say, " Tiieue is no God ! " THE EXISTENCE OF A GOD. " The fool hath said in his heart, there is no God." Go out beneath the arched heavens, at night, and say if you can, "There is no God! " Pronounce that dread- ful blasphemy, and each star above you will reproach the unbroken darkness of your intellect ; every voice that floats upon the night winds will bewail your utter hopelessness and folly. Is there no God ? Who, tlien, unrolled the blue scroll, and threw upon its high fruiiLispiece the legible gleam- ings of immortality ? Who fashioned this green earth, with its perpetual rolling watere, and its wide expanse of islands and of main? Whosettled the foundations of the mountains? Who paved the heavens with clouds, and 52 ONE HUNDRED CH O I CE 8E LECT I O NS attuned, amid the clamor of storms, the voice of thunders, and unchained the lightnings that flash in their gloom ? Who gave to the eagle a safe eyrie where the tempests dwell, and beat the strongest, and to the dove a tranquil abode amid the forests that echo to the minstrelsy of her moan ? Who made thee, O man ! with thy perfected elegance of intellect and form? Who made the light pleasant to thee, and the darkness a covering, and a herald to the first gorgeous flashes of the morning? There is a God. All nature declares it in a language too plain to be misapprehended. The great truth is too legibly written over the face of the whole creation to be easily mistaken. Thou canst behold it in the tender blade just starting from the earth in the early spring, or in the sturdy oak that has withstood the blasts of four- score winters. The purling rivulet, meandering through downy meads and verdant glens, and Niagara's tremen- dous torrent, leaping over its awful chasm, and rolling in majesty its broad sheet of waters onward to the ocean, unite in proclaiming — There is a God. 'Tis heard in the whispering breeze and in the howl- ing storm ; in the deep-toned thunder, and in the earth- quake's shock ; 'tis declared to us when the tempest lowers, when the hurricane sweeps over the land, when the winds moan around our dwellings, and die in sullen murmurs on the plain, when the heavens, overcast with blackness, ever and anon are illuminated by the lightning's glare. Nor is the truth less solemnly impressed on our minds in the universal hush and calm repose of nature, when all is still as the soft breathings of an infant's slumber. The vast ocean, when its broad expanse is whitened with foam, and when its heaving waves roll mountain on mountain high, or when the dark blue of heaven's vault is reflected with beauty on its smooth and tranquil bosom, confirms the declaration. The twinkling star, shedding its flickering rays so far above the reach of human ken, and the glorious sun in the heavens, — all, all declare, there is a universal First Cause. N U M B !£ K F I V E. 53 And man, tlie proud lord of creation, so fearfully and woudcirfuily made, — eacli joint in its corresponding socket, each muscle, tendon, and artery performing tlieir allot- ted functions vvitU all the precision of the most perfect mechanism, and, surpassing all, possessed of a soul capa- ble of enjoying the mosL exquisite pleasure, or of endur- ing the most excruciating pain, which is endowed with immortal capacities, and is destined to live onward through the endless ages of eternity, — these all unite in one gen- eral proclamation of the eternal truth that there is a Being, infinite in wisdom, who reigns over all, undivided and supreme, the fountain of all life, source of all light, from whom all blessings How, and in whom all happiness centres. ARTEMUS WARD VISITS THE SHAKERS. The Shakers is the strangest religious sex I ever met. I'd hearn tell of 'em and I'd seen 'em, with their broad brimmed hats and long wastid coats; but I'd never cum into immcjit contack with 'em. But one dark and stormy night, when the winds blew pityusly, I got swampt in the exterior of New York State, and was forced to tie up with the Shakers. I was toilin threw the mud, when in the dim vister of the filter I obsarved the gleams of a taller candle. Tiein a hornet's nest to my off boss's tail to kinder encourage him, I soon reached the place. I knockt at the door, which it was opened unto me by a tall, slick-faced, solum lookin individooal, wlio turned out to be a elder. " Mr. Shaker," sed I, " you see before you a Babe in the Woods, so to speak, an