2242
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 ONE SHILLING. 
 
 A NEW LINE OF LAUGHTER 
 
 Brand-New 
 
 Ballads, 
 
 
 
 CHARLES G. LELAND. 
 
 "HANS BREITMANN." 
 
 WITH MANY ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 HAL LUDLOW, THOMAS DALZIEL, and THE AUTHOR. 
 
 153 Fleet Street, E.G.
 
 "FUN'S" NOVELETTES, 
 
 ONE SHILLING EACH. Post-fm It. id. 
 
 DONE I FTSlf D A R K . 
 
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 BY ARTHUR T. PASK. 
 
 LOV^CLOUDS, 
 
 A STORY OF LOVE AND REVENGE. 
 BY JOHN LATEY, JUN. 
 
 /jfettESMssJS3r-- 
 
 MY NEIGHBOUR NELLIE. 
 
 An Illustrated Novelette. 
 
 By the Author of " Dick Boutin's Four-in-hand." 
 The author has a story to te^teUsith^^ ' 
 
 WHO UVED~THERE. 
 
 Author of" My Neighbour Nellie." 
 
 the Fire.' The Bookseller. 
 
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 he Author of' 1 Who Lived There." 
 
 DICK BOULIN'SFOUR-IN-HAND. 
 
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 "A very amusing story of old coaching tunes."-***^- 
 
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 With 100 Illustrations by Frederick Barnard. 
 
 "" 
 
 -FUN" OFFICE, 153 FLEET STREET, LONDON, E.G.
 
 BRAND-NEW BALLADS.
 
 Companion Volume to " Brand-Jew Ballads." 
 
 "SNOOPING," 
 
 BY 
 
 CHARLES G. LELAND. 
 
 "HANS BREITMANN." 
 
 A Little Treatise on the People who gather 
 round Artists while they are at their Work, or 
 peer over their shoulders. 
 
 "FUJT" OFFICE, 153, FLEET ST., LOHD05, E.C.
 
 Bran* rto 2Salla&fi. 
 
 BY 
 
 CHARLES G. LELAND, 
 
 "HANS BREITMANN," 
 
 Kit tii rtTanw Illustrations 
 
 HAL LUDLOW, THOMAS DALZIEL, AND THE 
 A UTHOR. 
 
 "FUN" OFFICE, 153 FLEET STREET, E.C 
 
 188?.
 
 DALZIEL BROTHERS, CAMDEN PRESS, LONDON, N. W.
 
 PS 
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 THE RISE AND FALL OF GLORYVILLE . . I 
 
 IN THE WRONG BOX . . . . ' . 14 
 
 ZION JERSEY BOGGS ..... 2O 
 
 THE BALLAD OF THE GREEN OLD MAN . 29 
 
 CARRYING COALS 37 
 
 CAREY, OF CARSON ..... 39 
 
 JOSEPHI IN BENICIA 44 
 
 THE STORY OF A LIE 48 
 
 THE LEGEND OF SAINT ANTHONY . . 51 
 
 A RUSSIAN LYRIC 56 
 
 MELODRAMNATION ..... 59 
 
 A TALE OF IDAHO . '. 63 
 
 A CALIFORNIAN ROMANCE .... 67 
 
 THE STORY OF MR. SCROPEK, ARCHITECT . 71 
 
 THAT INTERESTIN' BOY . . . . 75 
 
 937"
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 MISS MILES, THE TELEGRAPH GIRL . . 76 
 
 AN AMERICAN COCK-TALE . . . . 82 
 
 JUDGE WYMAN ...... 89 
 
 IN NEVADA 94 
 
 THE PHILANTHROPIC CLUB . . . . IOI 
 
 THE COLOURED FORTUNE HUNTER . . 105 
 
 PENN IO6 
 
 BALLAD OF THE FOXES . . . .109 
 
 EST MODUS IN REBUS . . . . .112 
 
 THE MASHER Il6 
 
 ARIZONA JOHN . . . . . .122 
 
 THE BALLAD OF CHARITY . . . .125 
 
 MULTUM IN PARVO 130 
 
 BREITMANN IN TURKEY . . . J 33 
 
 COBUS HAGELSTEIN 141 
 
 FRITZERL SCHNALL 145
 
 THE RISE AND FALL OF 
 GLORYVILLE. 
 
 WHERE the rockiest Rocky Mountains interview the 
 scornful skies, 
 
 And the sager kinds of sage-bush in the middle 
 distance rise, 
 
 There the cultured eye descending from the dream 
 like azure hill, 
 
 Lights in an aesthetic foreground on the town of 
 Gloryville. 
 
 i
 
 2 THE RISE AND FALL OF GLORYVILLE. 
 
 It was in the Middle Ages 'bout the end of Sixty- 
 eight, 
 
 So I found the hoary legend written on an ancient 
 slate 
 
 That one Ezry Jenks prospecting, when he reached 
 this blooming spot, 
 
 Thus uplifted to his pardner : " Glory ! Moses, let 
 us squat ! " 
 
 Thus rebounded Moses Adams : " Glory was the 
 
 foremost word 
 Which in the untrammelled silence of this wilderness 
 
 was heard, 
 And I arnswer, dimly feelin' like a prophet, grand 
 
 and slow, 
 ' Glory kinder sounds like Money up to glory let 
 
 her go ! '" 
 
 And this casual conversation in the year of Sixty- 
 eight, 
 
 As if by an inspiration he recorded on a slate, 
 
 Which 't was said in later ages six weeks after 
 used to hang 
 
 As a curiositary in the principal shebang. 
 
 On the spot that very evening they perceived a 
 beauteous gleam
 
 THE RISE AND FALL OF GLORYVILLE. 3 
 
 From a grain of shining metal in a wild auriferous 
 stream : 
 
 As their eyes remarked the symptom thus their 
 
 tongues responsive spoke : 
 
 " In this undiscovered section there is pay-dirt, sure 
 as smoke ! " 
 
 I 2
 
 4 THE RISE AND FALL OF GLORYVILLE. 
 
 Little boots or little shoes it to inform you how like 
 
 crows 
 To a carcase, folks came flying, and the town of 
 
 Glory rose ; 
 As in country schools the urchins cast each one a 
 
 spittle-ball, 
 Till at last a monstrous paper fungus gathers on the 
 
 wall. 
 
 'Long the road they built their cabins, in a vis-a- 
 visual way, 
 
 As if each man to his neighbour kind of wished to 
 have his say ; 
 
 But 't was also said that like two rows of teeth the 
 houses grew, 
 
 Threatening uncommon danger to the stranger pass 
 ing through. 
 
 Yes, for like the note of freedom sounded on Hiber- 
 
 nia's harp, 
 Every person in the party was a most uncommon 
 
 sharp ; 
 And it got to be a saying that from such an ornery 
 
 cuss 
 As a regular Glory villin oh, good Law deliver us ! 
 
 First of all the pay-dirt vanished or became uncommon 
 rare,
 
 THE RISE AND FALL OF GLORYVILLE. 5 
 
 Then they wandered more than ever to the Cross 
 
 and from the Square, 
 For when all resources failed them nary copper did 
 
 they mind, 
 For they had fine-answering Genius, which is never 
 
 left behind. 
 
 So they got incopperated as a city fair and grand, 
 Spreading memoirs of their splendour over many a 
 
 distant land, 
 Mind I say in distant places people near them never 
 
 knew 
 Into what unearthly beauty the great town of Glory 
 
 grew. 
 
 Then they sent an ex-tra Governor over seas and far 
 
 beyond, 
 Even unto distant Holland, loaded up with many a 
 
 bond, 
 Splendidly engraved in London, having just the 
 
 proper touch ; 
 Quite imposing rather for they did impose upon 
 
 the Dutch. 
 
 And with every bond the Governor had a picture to 
 
 bestow 
 Of the town of Gloryville a-bathing in the sunset's 
 
 glow;
 
 6 THE RISE AND FALL OF GLORYV1LLE. 
 
 This they had performed in Paris by an artist full of 
 
 cheek, 
 Who was told to draw a city comme il faut dans 
 
 /' Amerique. 
 
 The ideas of this artist were idead from long ago, 
 Out of scenery in an opera, " Cortez in the Mexico." 
 Therefore all his work expanded with expensive 
 
 fallacies : 
 Castles, towered walls, pavilions, real-estately palaces. 
 
 In the foreground lofty palm-trees, as if full of soar 
 ing love, 
 
 Bore up cocoa-nuts and monkeys to the smiling 
 heaven above ; 
 
 Jet-black Indian chieftains, at their feet too lovely 
 girls were sighin', 
 
 With an elephant beyond them here and there a 
 casual lion. 
 
 You have seen in " Pilgrim's Progress " the Celestial 
 
 City stand 
 Like a hub in half a cart-wheel raying light o'er all 
 
 the land. 
 Well, in that, it is the felloes of the wheel which 
 
 cause the blaze, 
 So in Gloryville the fellows were the ones who made 
 
 the rays.
 
 THE RISE AND FALL OF GLORYVILLE. 7 
 
 When these views were well matured the Governor 
 
 went to Amsterdam, 
 Where to Mynheer Schmuel Ganef first of all he 
 
 made his slam, 
 At a glance each " saw " the other at a glance they 
 
 went aside, 
 And without a word of bother soon the plan was cut 
 
 and dried. 
 
 For one hundred thousand dollars then the Governor 
 
 at will 
 Gave away the full fee-simple of the town of 
 
 Gloryville. 
 " Dat for you," said Schmuel Ganef, " is, I dink, not 
 
 much too much, 
 But I makesh de shtock a million ven I sells him to 
 
 the Dutch." 
 
 And the secret of his selling was upon the artful 
 
 plan 
 
 Known to the police in Paris as the vol Americain, 
 Whereby he who does the spilling manages the man 
 
 who's spilt 
 
 Very nicely, for he makes him an accomplice in the 
 guilt. 
 
 Even as of old great sages managed the Parisian 
 fonds,
 
 8 THE RISE AND FALL OF GLORYVILLE. 
 
 So in Amsterdam Heer Ganef peddled out his Glory 
 
 bonds ; 
 
 And to all he slyly whispered, " I vill let you in de first 
 On de ground floor sell out quickly for you know 
 
 de ding may burst." 
 
 Woe to you who live by thieving, though you be of 
 
 rogues the chief, 
 Even the greatest will discover in due time his 
 
 master-thief. 
 True, he " let them in," and truly on the very bottom 
 
 floor, 
 
 But was with the Gloryvillins in the cellar long 
 before.
 
 THE RISE AND FALL OF GLORY VI LLE. 9 
 
 And to tell you how the biters all got bitten were in 
 
 vain; 
 Here the Governor leaves my story, and he comes 
 
 not in again. 
 
 I will pass to later ages, when all Gloryville, you bet, 
 Found itself extreme encumbered with an extra 
 
 booming debt 
 
 Those who sold the bonds had vanished, those who 
 
 hadn't held the town, 
 
 Little knew they of its glory over seas or great renown. 
 They had nothing of the fruitage, though, alas ! they 
 
 held the plant, 
 Nothing saw they of the picture, save, indeed, the 
 
 Elephant. 
 
 He who had been in the background now came 
 
 trampling to the fore, 
 Terribly he trampled on them, very awful was his 
 
 roar ! 
 Very dreadful is the silence when no human voice 
 
 responds 
 To a legal requisition for the interest of our bonds 
 
 But ere long a shrewd reflection unto Moses Adams 
 came
 
 10 THE RISE AND FALL OF GLORYVHJ.E. 
 
 "Darned ef I'm a-gwine to suffer fur another party's 
 
 game; 
 Wings is given to muskeeters like muskeeters men 
 
 can fly; 
 Ef a strawberry-vine can travel with its roots, then 
 
 why not I ? " 
 
 Silently, in secret, Moses to himself a plan reveals, 
 Got a three-inch plank and sawed it into surreptitious 
 wheels,
 
 THE RISE AND FALL OF GLORYVILLE. 11 
 
 And when night in solemn mystery had succeeded 
 
 unto day, 
 Put his hut and things on axles, and quite lonely 
 
 drove away 
 
 To a place just over yonder by the old Coyote 
 
 Road; 
 There, no more a man of glory, Moses Adams 
 
 dropped his load, 
 And when resting from his labour and refreshing 
 
 from his jug, 
 Having known a town called Julesberg, called his 
 
 shanty Splendourbug. 
 
 On the following morn as usual in due time arose the 
 
 sun, 
 And the Gloryvillins followed his example, one by 
 
 one, 
 While he smiled upon the city, as on other things 
 
 beneath, 
 'T was observed one snag was wanting in the double 
 
 row of teeth. 
 
 Little said the Left-behinders, but they seemed to 
 
 take the hint, 
 And each man surveyed his neighbour with a shrewd 
 
 and genial squint ;
 
 12 THE RISE AND FALL OF GLORYVILLE. 
 
 All day long there was a sound of sawing timber up 
 
 and down, 
 Seven more houses in the morning were a-wanting in 
 
 the town. 
 
 And before the week departed all the town departed 
 
 too, 
 Just like swallows in the autumn to another soil they 
 
 flew; 
 Only that unlike the swallows which we hear of in 
 
 the song, 
 When the Gloryvillins squandered each one took his 
 
 nest along. 
 
 All except one ancient darkey, obstinate and blind 
 and lame, 
 
 Who for want of wheels and credit could not follow 
 up the game, 
 
 So the others had to leave him, which they did with 
 out regret, 
 
 Left him there without a copper just one million 
 deep in debt. 
 
 If you seek them you may find them comfortable as 
 
 in a rug, 
 All of them at length established in the town of 
 
 Splendourbug,
 
 THE RISE AND FALL OF GLORYV1LLE. 13 
 
 And the driver to the traveller as by Gloryville he 
 
 goes, 
 Points him out an ancient darkey who a million 
 
 dollars owes.
 
 IN THE WRONG BOX. 
 
 WHEN Eagle Davis died, 
 
 I was sittin' by his side, 
 
 'Twas in Boston, Massachusetts; and he said tome, 
 "Old boy! 
 
 This climate as you see 
 
 Isn't quite the size for me; 
 Dead or livin', take me back if you can to Ellanoy!" 
 
 So I took him by the hand, 
 
 But he 'd just run out his sand, 
 And his breath was gone for ever before a word 
 would come; 
 
 Then I and other three 
 
 Together did agree 
 In a party for to travel and to funeralize him home. 
 
 But Goshen Wheeler said, 
 As he looked upon the dead, 
 Weepin' mildly, " Just remark my observation what 
 I say:
 
 IN THE WRONG BOX. 
 
 That deceased, now glorious, 
 Was in life a curious cuss, 
 And somethin' unexpectable will happen on the way. 
 
 " Frum the time that he was born 
 Till he doubled round the Horn 
 Of Death, all his measurements and pleasurements 
 
 were odd, 
 
 And odd his line will be, 
 As you 're registered to see, 
 
 Till his walnut case is underneath the gravel and 
 the sod." 
 
 It was bitter winter weather 
 
 When we all four got together 
 At the depot with the coffin in an extra packin' box, 
 
 And a friend, with good intent, 
 
 A cask of whisky sent, 
 
 Just to keep our boats from wrackin', as they say, 
 upon the rocks. 
 
 Then a ticket agent he 
 Seein' mournin', says to me, 
 " Can I get the cards, or help you in your trouble, 
 
 Mister Brown ? " 
 So with solemn words I said, 
 As I pinted to the dead, 
 
 " There you '11 find, I guess, our pilgrimage and shrine 
 is written down."
 
 16 IN THE WRONG BOX. 
 
 Then all night beneath the stars 
 We sat grimly in the cars, 
 Sometimes sleepin', sometimes thinkin', sometimes 
 
 drinkin', till the dawn; 
 And each man went in his turn 
 To the baggage-crate to learn 
 
 If the box was keepin' time with us, and how 't was 
 gettin' on. 
 
 Then all day beneath the sun 
 Still the train went rushin' on, 
 While we still kep' as silent as grave-stones as we 
 
 went: 
 
 Playing euchre solemnly, 
 Which we kinder did agree 
 
 With the stakes to build for Davis a decent monu- 
 ment. 
 
 'Bout once in every mile 
 
 Some mourner took a smile, 
 
 But we did no other smilin' as we travelled day or 
 night; 
 
 And once in every hour 
 
 Some one went into the bower, 
 And reported the receptacle of Davis was all right 
 
 But when four days were past, 
 Which we still were flyin' fast,
 
 IN THE WRONG BOX. 17 
 
 Goshen Wheeler, very solemn, with expression to us 
 
 cries, 
 " Where we are it should be freezin' 
 
 And our very breaths a-squeezin', 
 Whereas the air is hot enough to bake persimmen 
 pies. 
 
 " Don't you smell a rich perfume 
 
 As of summer flowers in bloom ? 
 'T is magnolias a-peddled by yon humble coloured 
 
 boy: 
 
 Now, I never yet did know 
 That the sweet mag-no-li-o 
 Grew in winter in the latitude of Northern Ellanoy." 
 
 Then said Ebenezer Dotton, 
 " I behold a field of cotton, 
 And I wonder how in thunder such a veg'table got 
 
 here. 
 
 I don't know how we're fixed, 
 But the climate 's getting mixed, 
 And it's spilin' very rapidly with warmness as I fear.'' 
 
 Spoke Mister Aaron Bland, 
 " I perceive on yonder land 
 That sugar-cane is bloomin', correctly, all in rows, 
 
 2
 
 1 8 IN THE WRONG BOX. 
 
 And not to make allusions 
 To Republican delusions, 
 
 But the niggers air a-getting' all around as thick as 
 crows." 
 
 Still we sat there mighty glum 
 Till along a fellow come. 
 And I says, says I, " Conductor, now tell us what it 
 
 means, 
 
 Just inform us where we be ? " 
 " Wall, now, gentlemen," said he, 
 " I reckon we air comin' to the spot called New 
 Or-leens." 
 
 So we rushed all in a row, 
 
 When we got to the depot, 
 
 To the baggage-crate, a-wonderin' at these transfor 
 mation scenes ; 
 
 And we found out unexpected 
 
 That the box had been directed 
 Not unto Ellanoy, but to a man in New Or-leens ! 
 
 Without carin' if I 'd catch it, 
 I straightway took a hatchet, 
 And busted off the cover without openin' my mouth ;
 
 IN THE WRONG BOX. 19 
 
 And found a grand planner 
 Which we'd followed for our banner 
 All the way from Massachusetts unto the sunny 
 South ! 
 
 Then I said, " I rather guess 
 
 I can see into this mess, 
 
 And explain the startlin' error which has given you 
 such shocks. 
 
 When that Boston fellow, he 
 
 Asked the route I 'd take of me, 
 I pinted, inadvertional, unto another box." 
 
 Now Eagle Davis lies 
 Beneath the Northern skies, 
 Where the snow is on the pine-tree while we are with 
 
 the palm, 
 
 But I reckon if his spirit 
 Should ever come to hear it, 
 
 He '11 be perfectly contented with the story in this 
 psalm
 
 ZION JERSEY BOGGS. 
 
 A LEGEND OF PHILADELPHIA. 
 
 BEFORE the telegraphic wires 
 
 Had ever run from pole to pole, 
 Or telegirls sent telegrams 
 
 To cheer the weary waiting soul ; 
 When all things went about as slow 
 As terrapins could run on clogs, 
 Was played a game 
 By one whose name 
 Was Mister Zion Jersey Boggs. 
 
 A Philadelphia newspaper 
 
 Was printed then on Chestnut Street ; 
 While 'crost the way, just opposite, 
 There lived a sufferin' rival sheet, 
 Whose editors could get no news, 
 
 Which made 'em cross as starvin' hogs ; 
 The first, I guess, 
 Had an express 
 Which kind o' b'longed to Mister Boggs.
 
 ZION JERSEY BOGGS. 21 
 
 But in those days the only news 
 
 Which reely opened readers' eyes, 
 Was of the New York lottery, 
 
 And who by luck had got a prize. 
 All other news, for all they cared, 
 Might travel to the orful dogs ; 
 And this they got 
 All piping hot 
 Though surreptitiously from Boggs. 
 
 For of the crew no party knew 
 
 That Boggs did any horses own. 
 All sportin' amputations he 
 
 Did most concussively disown ; 
 For he had serious subtle aims, 
 
 His wheels were full of secret cogs, 
 Well oiled and slow, 
 Yet sure to go, 
 Was Mister Zion Jersey Boggs. 
 
 One mornin' he, mysteriously, 
 
 An' smilin' quite ironical, 
 Spoke to the other editor, 
 
 The man who run the Chronicle. 
 " The Ledger has a hoss express 
 
 By which your lottery news he flogs."
 
 22 Z1ON JERSEY BOGGS. 
 
 " Yes, that is true, 
 
 But what 's to do ? " 
 Replied the man to Mister Boggs. 
 
 Then Mister Boggs let down his brows, 
 And with a long deep knowing wink, 
 Said, " Hosses travel mighty fast 
 
 But ther air taster things, I think ; 
 An' kerrier-pidgings, as you know, 
 
 Kin find their way thro' storm and fogs 
 Them air the bugs 
 To fly like slugs ! " 
 Said Mister Zion Jersey Boggs. 
 
 " And in my glorious natyve land, 
 
 Which lies acrost the Delaware, 
 I hev a lot upon the spot, 
 
 Just twenty dollars fur a pair. 
 These gentle insects air the things 
 To make the Ledger squeal like hogs ; 
 That is the game 
 To hit 'em lame ! " 
 Said Mister Zion Jersey Boggs. 
 
 The editor looked back again, 
 And saw him better on his wink,
 
 ZION JERSEY BOGGS. 23 
 
 "It is the crisis of our fate 
 
 Say, Boggs, what is your style of drink ? 
 Step to the bar of Congress Hall ; 
 We '11 try your poultry on, by Gogs ! 
 An' let 'em fly 
 Tarnation high ! " 
 " Amen ! " said Zion Jersey Boggs. 
 
 The pidgins came, the pidgins flew, 
 
 They lit upon the lofty wall ; 
 They made ther five an' ninety miles 
 
 In just about no time at all. 
 Compared to them, the Ledger team 
 Went just as slow as haulin' logs. 
 But all was mum, 
 Shut close an' dumb, 
 By the request of Mister Boggs. 
 
 Then on the follerin' Monday, he, 
 
 Lookin' profounder as he prowled, 
 This son of sin an' mystery 
 
 Into the Ledger orfice owled. 
 " An' oh ! to think," he sadly groaned, 
 " That earth should bear setch skalliwogs ! 
 Setch all-fired snakes, 
 And no mistakes ! " 
 Said Mister Zion Jersey Boggs.
 
 24 ZION JERSEY BOGGS. 
 
 " Why, what is up ? " asked Mr. Swain ; 
 
 " It seems you 've had some awful shoves." 
 " The Chronicle" his agent cried, 
 
 " Has went an' bin an' bought some doves ! 
 Them traitors, wretches, swindlers, cheats, 
 Hev smashed us up like polywogs. 
 They Ve knocked, I guess, 
 Our hoss express 
 Higher than any kite," said Boggs. 
 
 " Have you no plan ? " asked Mister Swain, 
 
 " To keep the fellows off our walks ? " 
 " I hev" said Boggs, as grim as death ; 
 " What do you think of pidging-horks ? 
 For in my glorious natyve land, 
 Acrost the river, 'mong the frogs, 
 I hev a lot 
 All sharply sot 
 To eat them pidgings up," said Boggs. 
 
 " They are the chosen birds of wrath, 
 They fly like arrers through the air, 
 
 Or Angels sent by orful Death, 
 Jist fifty dollars fur a pair ; 
 
 An' cheap to keep, because, you see, 
 Upon the enemy they progs."
 
 ZION JESSEY BOGGS. 25 
 
 " Well, try it on, 
 
 And now begone ! " 
 Said Mister Swain to Mister Boggs. 
 
 The autumn morn was bright and fair, 
 
 Fresh as a rose with recent rain. 
 The pidgins tortled through the air, 
 
 But nary one came home again. 
 Some feathers dropped in Chestnut Street, 
 Some bills and claws among the logs : 
 
 Wipin' a tear, 
 " I greatly fear 
 That all 's not right," said Mr. Boggs. 
 
 Into the Chronicle he went, 
 
 Twice as mysterious as before, 
 " And hev you heard the orful news ? " 
 He whispered as he shet the door. 
 " Oh, I hev come to tell a tale 
 
 Of crime, which all creation flogs, 
 Of wretchery 
 And treachery 
 That bangs tarnation sin," said Boggs. 
 
 " Them Ledger fellers with their tricks, 
 
 Hev slopped clean over crime's dark cup.
 
 26 Z1ON JERSEY BOGGS. 
 
 They Ve bin an' bought some pidging-horks 
 
 And they hev et our pidgings up. 
 Oh, whut is life wuth livin' fur 
 When editors behave like hogs ? 
 An' ragin' crime 
 Makes double time ; 
 Oh, darn setch villany ! " cried Boggs. 
 
 " But hark ! bee-hold, to-morrer, thou 
 
 In deep revenge may dry your tears ; 
 I hev a plan which, you '11 allow, 
 
 Beats all-git-out when it eppears. 
 The ragin' eagle of the North, 
 The bird which all creation flogs, 
 Will cause them horks 
 To walk ther chalks, 
 An' give us grand revenge," said Boggs. 
 
 " Them glorious birds of liberty, 
 
 Them symbols of our country's fame, 
 Wild, sarsy, furious, and free, 
 
 Indeliably rowdy game ; 
 They shall revenge them gentile doves 
 Our harmless messengers, by Gogs ! 
 In which the horks 
 Hev stuck ther forks," 
 Cried Mister Zion Jersey Boggs.
 
 ZION JERSEY BOGGS. 27 
 
 " For in my glorious natyve land 
 Acrost the river, down below, 
 I hev a farm, and in the barn 
 Six captyve eagles in a row. 
 One hundred dollars fur a pair ; 
 
 Fetch out the flimsies frum your togs, 
 An' up on high 
 /'// make 'em fly," 
 Said Mister Zion Jersey Boggs. 
 
 But this same editor had heard 
 
 Some hint or rumour, faint or dim, 
 How Mister Boggs, it was averred, 
 
 Was coming Paddy over him. 
 An earlier tale of soapy deeds 
 
 Then gave his memory startling jogs, 
 And full of wrath 
 Right in his path 
 He went for Zion Jersey Boggs. 
 
 " Horses and pidgins pidgin-horks " 
 That was enough to raise his Dutch : 
 
 He saw it all and also saw 
 
 The eagle "Just one bird too much." 
 
 Too mad to mind his shootin'-iron, 
 And throw good powder to the dogs,
 
 28 ZION JERSEY BOGGS, 
 
 He grabbed his chair, 
 And then and there 
 Corrected Zion Jersey Boggs. 
 
 After long years had rolled away, 
 And Morse's telegraph came in, 
 Still on the facing rival roofs 
 
 Two grey old cages could be seen, 
 And young reporters o'er their drinks 
 Would tell each other, jolly dogs,- 
 Of ancient time, 
 What in this rhyme 
 I Ve told of Zion Jersey Boggs.
 
 THE BALLAD OF THE 
 GREEN OLD MAN. 
 
 IT was a balmeous day in May, when spring was 
 
 springing high, 
 
 And all amid the buttercups the bees did butterfly ; 
 While the butterflies were being enraptured in the 
 
 flowers, 
 And winsome frogs were singing soft morals to the 
 
 showers. 
 
 Green were the emerald grasses which grew upon the 
 
 plain, 
 And green too were the verdant boughs which 
 
 rippled in the rain, 
 Far green likewise the apple hue which clad the 
 
 distant hill, 
 But at the station sat a man who looked far greener 
 
 still. 
 
 An ancient man, a boy-like man, a person mild and 
 
 meek, 
 A being who had little tongue, and nary bit of cheek.
 
 30 THE GREEN OLD MAN. 
 
 And while upon him pleasant-like I saw the ladies 
 look, 
 
 He sat a-counting money in a brownsome pocket- 
 book. 
 
 Then to him a policeman spoke, " Unless you feel 
 
 too proud, 
 You 'd better stow away that cash while you 're in 
 
 this here crowd; 
 There's many a chap about this spot who'd clean 
 
 you out like ten." 
 " And can it be," exclaimed the man, " there are such 
 
 wicked men? 
 
 " Then I will put my greenbacks up all in my pocket- 
 book, 
 
 And keep it buttoned very tight, and at the button 
 look." 
 
 He said it with a simple tone, and gave a simple 
 smile, 
 
 You never saw a half-grown shad one-half so void of 
 guile. 
 
 And the bumble-bees kept bumbling away among 
 
 the flowers, 
 While distant frogs were frogging amid the summer 
 
 showers,
 
 THE GREEN OLD MAN. 
 
 And the tree-toads were tree-toadying in accents 
 
 sharp or flat, 
 All nature seemed a-naturing as there the old man 
 
 sat. 
 
 Then up and down the platform promiscuous he 
 
 strayed, 
 Amid the waiting passengers he took his lemonade,
 
 32 THE GREEN OLD MAN. 
 
 A-making little kind remarks unto them all at sight, 
 Until he met two travellers who looked cosmopolite. 
 
 Now even as the old was green, this pair were 
 
 darkly brown ; 
 They seemed to be of that degree which sports 
 
 about the town. 
 
 Amid terrestrial mice, I ween, their destiny was Cat; 
 If ever men were gonoffs,* I should say these two 
 
 were that. 
 
 And they had watched that old man well with in 
 terested look, 
 
 And gazed him counting greenbacks in that brown- 
 some pocket-book ; 
 
 And the elder softly warbled with benevolential 
 
 phiz, 
 
 " Green peas has come to market, and the veg'tables 
 is riz." 
 
 Yet still across the heavenly sky the clouds went 
 
 clouding on, 
 The rush upon the gliding brook kept rushing all 
 
 alone, 
 
 Gonoff. A Scriptural term for a Member of the Legislature, 
 or suchlike.
 
 THE GREEN OLD MAN. 33 
 
 While the ducks upon the water were a-ducking just 
 
 the same, 
 And every mortal human man kept on his little 
 
 game. 
 
 And the old man to the strangers very affable let 
 
 slip 
 
 How that zealousy policeman had given him the tip, 
 And how his cash was buttoned in his pocket dark 
 
 and dim, 
 And how he guessed no man alive on earth could 
 
 gammon him. 
 
 In ardent conversation ere long the three were 
 
 steeped, 
 And in that good man's confidence the younger 
 
 party deeped. 
 The p'liceman, as he shadowed them, exclaimed in 
 
 blooming rage, 
 " They 're stufrin' of that duck, I guess, and leavin' out 
 
 the sage." 
 
 He saw the game distinctly, and inspected how it 
 
 took, 
 And watched the reappearance of that brownsome 
 
 pocket-book, 
 
 3
 
 34 THE GREEN OLD MAN. 
 
 And how that futile ancient, ere he buttoned up his 
 
 coat, 
 Had interchanged, obliging-like, a greensome coloured 
 
 note. 
 
 And how they parted tenderly, and how the happy 
 
 twain 
 
 Went out into the Infinite by taking of the train ; 
 Then up the blue policeman came, and said, " My 
 
 ancient son, 
 Now you have gone and did it ; say what you have 
 
 been and done ? " 
 
 And unto him the good old man replied with childish 
 
 glee, 
 They were as nice a two young men as I did ever 
 
 see; 
 But they were in such misery their story made me 
 
 cry; 
 So I lent 'em twenty dollars which they '11 pay me 
 
 by-and-bye. 
 
 But as I had no twenty, we also did arrange, 
 They got from me a fifty bill, and gimme thirty 
 change ;
 
 THE GREEN OLD MAN. 35 
 
 But they will send that fifty back, and by to-morrer's 
 
 train " 
 
 " That note," out cried the constable, " you '11 never 
 see again ! " 
 
 " And that,'' exclaimed the sweet old man, " I hope 
 
 I never may, 
 
 Because I do not care a cuss how far it keeps away; 
 For if I 'm a judge of money, and I reether think I 
 
 am, 
 The one I shoved was never worth a continental 
 
 dam. 
 
 " They hev wandered with their sorrers into the sunny 
 
 South, 
 They hev got uncommon swallows and an extry lot 
 
 of mouth. 
 In the next train to the North'ard I expect to widely 
 
 roam, 
 And if any come inquirin', jist say I ain't at 
 
 home." 
 
 The p'liceman lifted up his glance unto the sunny 
 
 skies, 
 I s'pose the light was fervent, for a tear were in his 
 
 eyes,
 
 36 THE GREEN OLD MAN. 
 
 And said, " If in your travels a hat store you should 
 
 see, 
 Just buy yourself a beaver tile and charge that tile 
 
 to me." 
 
 While the robins were a-robbing acrost the meadow 
 
 gay. 
 
 And the pigeons still a-pigeoning among the gleam 
 
 of May, 
 All out of doors kept out of doors as suchlike only 
 
 can, 
 A-singing of an endless hymn about that good old 
 
 man
 
 \ 
 
 CARRYING COALS. 
 
 IN the gloomsome abysses where darkness is kept, 
 And the spirit of silence for ages has slept, 
 
 In the great shaft of Potsville, way down in the hole, 
 There came seven parties, all dealers in coal ; 
 But they never had been in that chasm before, 
 Nor had the sensation of darkness all o'er, 
 Which so greatly expandeth the soul.
 
 38 CARRYING COALS. 
 
 And one of 'em said, " It 's an awful delight 
 
 To be infinite deep into no end of night, 
 
 Where the heavenly sunshine can't manage to spring, 
 And, talking of that, I Ve a notion, by Jing ! 
 
 Let we ourselves mine out some -coal lumps to-day 
 
 To show to the folks, which I think, by the way, 
 Would be a poetical thing." 
 
 So they filled up their pockets, untried by a doubt, 
 And in the hotel they unveiled 'em all out ; 
 
 But their glances grew strange as they turned o'er the 
 weight, 
 
 Till one of them shouted, " By thunder, it 's slate ! " 
 Yet the youngest among them had dealered in coal, 
 And unto that traffic surrendered his soul, 
 
 Since the Anno Eighteen Forty-eight. 
 
 For all of man's wisdom is only a dream, 
 Which passeth away like a plate of ice-cream, 
 And the best of experience fails, as we mark, 
 If you go for to dig when you 're all in the dark ; 
 For there 's always a moral inside of a tale, 
 And big things in little things always prevail 
 As sure as there 's wood in the baric
 
 CAREY, OF CARSON, 
 
 THE night-mist dim and darkling, 
 
 As o'er the roads we pass, 
 Lies in the morning sparkling 
 
 As dewdrops on the grass. 
 E'en so the deeds of darkness, 
 
 Which come like midnight dews, 
 Appear as sparkling items 
 
 Next morning in the news. 
 
 Away in Carson city, 
 
 Far in the Silver Land, 
 There lives one Justice Carey, 
 
 A man of head and hand ; 
 And as upon his table 
 
 The Judge a-smoking sat 
 There rowdied in a rougher 
 
 Who wore a gallows hat 
 
 He looked upon the Justice, 
 But Justice did not budge 
 Until the younger warbled, 
 " Say don't you know me, Judge?" 
 39
 
 40 CAREY, OF CARSON. 
 
 " I think," said Carey meekly, 
 " Your face full well I know, 
 I sent you up for stealing 
 A horse a year ago." 
 
 " Ay, that is just the hair-pin 
 I am, and that 's my line ; 
 And here is twenty dollars 
 
 I 've brought to pay the fine." 
 " You owe no fine," said Carey, 
 
 " Your punishment is o'er." 
 " Not yet," replied the rover, 
 " I 've come to have some more. 
 
 " Fust-rate assault and batt'ry 
 
 I 'm goin' to commit, 
 And you 're the mournful victim 
 
 That I intend to hit, 
 And give you such a scrampin' 
 
 As never was, nohow ; 
 And so, to save the lawin', 
 
 I guess I '11 settle now." 
 
 Up rose the Court in splendour ; 
 " Young man, your start is fair, 
 Sail in, my son, sail over, 
 And we will call it square !
 
 CAREY, OF CARSON. 41 
 
 Go in upon your chances, 
 Perhaps you may not miss ; 
 
 I like to see young heroes 
 Ambitionin' like this." 
 
 The young one at the older 
 
 Went in with all his heft, 
 And, like a flyin' boulder, 
 
 At once let out his left ; 
 The Court, in haste, ducked under 
 
 Its head uncommon spry, 
 Then lifted the intruder 
 
 With a puncher in the eye, 
 
 A regular right-hander ; 
 
 And like a cannon-ball, 
 The young man, when percussioned 
 
 Went over on the wall. 
 In just about a second, 
 
 The Court, with all its vim, 
 Like squash-vines o'er a meadow, 
 
 Went climbing over him. " 
 
 Yea, as the pumpkin clambers 
 
 Above an Indian grave, 
 Or as the Mississippi 
 
 Inunders with its wave,
 
 42 CAREY, OF CARSON. 
 
 And merrily slops over 
 
 A town in happy sport, 
 E'en so that man was clambered 
 
 All over by the Court. 
 
 And in about a minute 
 
 That party was so raw, 
 He would have seemed a stranger 
 
 Unto his dearest squaw ; 
 Till he was soft and tender, 
 
 This morsel once so tough, 
 And then, in sad surrender, 
 
 He moaned aloud, " Enough ! " 
 
 He rose ; and Justice Carey 
 
 Said to him ere he went, 
 " I do not think the fightin' 
 
 You did was worth a cent. 
 I charge for time two dollars, 
 
 As lawyers should, 't is plain ; 
 The balance of the twenty 
 
 I give you back again. 
 
 " I like to be obligin' 
 
 To folks with all my powers, 
 So when you next want fightin' 
 Don't come in office hours ;
 
 CAREY, OF CARSON. 
 
 43 
 
 I only make my charges 
 For what 's in legal time, 
 
 Drop in, my son, this evenin', 
 And I '11 not charge a dime. " 
 
 The young man took the guerdon, 
 
 As he had ta'en the scars ; 
 Then took himself awayward 
 
 To the 'Ginia City cars. 
 'T is glorious when heroes 
 
 .Go in to right their wrongs ; 
 But if you 're only hair-pins, 
 
 Oh, then beware of tongs !
 
 yOSEPHI IN BENICIA. 
 
 THERE was a man who spent his mortal life 
 A-prisoning until there came a war ; 
 And with the war there came an enemy, 
 And with the enemy came dynamite, 
 And with the dynamite the engineers 
 Histed that prison-house, and with it all 
 That was therein. And when the man came do.vn 
 And lay a-dying, round the chaplain lit, 
 And asked him " \Vhat of life ? " and he replied, 
 " To me this life has been a blasted cell." 
 And so he died like any other man, 
 And thus it is things work among mankind. 
 
 The great Josephi the piano lord 
 When in the land of California 
 Was duly published for Benicia, 
 Yet never once put in ; and then arose 
 Dame Rumour with a hundred thousand tongues, 
 And people said that he had bust his wires, 
 And had neuralgia in his sounding-board, 
 And the dyspepsia in his pedal joint, 
 44
 
 JOSEPHI IN BENICIA. 45 
 
 And the stricnosis in his upper keys, 
 Yet all was false, and I will tell you why. 
 The day before he was to have gone in 
 Unto his glory in Benicia, 
 There came a visitor whose sun-grilled face 
 And grand prize pumpkin air had all the style 
 Of a Maud Muller's father ; and this man, 
 Being shown in, remarked, " I s'pose you air 
 Mister Joseephee ? " To him in reply 
 The small piano-smasher nodded " Yes." 
 And thus the agriculturist went on : 
 I 'm from Beneesh, I am, and I belong 
 To the Town Council that is my posish. 
 Down here disposin' of my barley, and 
 I thort I 'd call and see yer, being as 
 Yer comin' down ter-morrer fur to play." 
 
 " Ja, dot is so," replied the music man. 
 
 " Ye see, yer comin' to a stanger town, 
 And so I thort I 'd let yer hev some pints 
 About the programme. We 're a-payin' yer 
 A pot o' money, and of course yer want 
 To suit the ordience." " Veil, vot you like, 
 Exclaimed the great musician. " I can blay 
 Chopin, Beethoven, Liszt ja ! all de crate 
 Gombosers, and I gifcs you vot you shoose." 
 
 " I never heerd them tunes," replied his guest. 
 
 " Do yer know ' Nancy Lee ' ? " " Not I, bei Gott ! "
 
 JOSEPHI IN BENICIA. 
 
 " Nor ' Mary Ann ' ? " " Nein " (very haughtily). 
 " The ' Spanish Dona 'the ' Monastery Bells ' ? " 
 Gott's dammerwetter ! Himmelspotzen KEIN ! " 
 
 Wall, now, whar did ye learn ? My darter Sue 
 Goes to Miss Lynch's, and she knows 'em all, 
 An' plays 'em all by heart right straight along. 
 I never thought her no great shakes, and yet 
 She 's clean ahead of you." A gloomy pause 
 Ensued, and two long glares. Then he set on, 
 What kind o' dancing music are ye gwine
 
 JOSEPH1 IN BENICIA. 47 
 
 To fetch along? for that's the heavy jerk." 
 " Tantz musikf" Oh, the horror of the voice 
 Of great Joseph! when he heard these words. 
 " Yes, certinly. Ain't ye a-goin' to play 
 Fur dancing arter supper ? Wot d' ye s'pose 
 We're gwine to pay yer fur?" (Here came the 
 
 squall.) 
 
 " Go to der Teufel mit your tantz musik ! 
 Dere to your tauter also. Sapperment ! 
 Verflucht sei denie feele do you dink 
 I coom to blay fur caddie ? I ton't go 
 Unto Benicia. Dell your veller-bigs 
 Your tauter blays in my blace in de blace 
 Of Herr Josephi do you oonderstand, 
 You hundert tousend plasted Schweinigal I" 
 And in the rustic's face he slammed the door. 
 
 He did not play in fair Benicia, 
 
 And in that town he is not popular ; 
 
 And in its leading circles seven out 
 
 Of eight regard him as a German fraud, 
 
 Who cannot even play " My Mary Ann." 
 
 And thus it is they think he is a sell, 
 
 And thus it is things work among mankind.
 
 THE STORY OF A LIE. 
 
 WHO asks an ape to throw a cocoa-nut 
 Should take it not amiss if it be thrown 
 On his own head, as echo answers song. 
 
 There was a man named Jesse, who was called 
 
 The greatest liar in Connecticut. 
 
 For there are giants among the Brobdingnags. 
 
 It was a burning day, and William Hoop 
 Sat in the shade, when Jess came riding by. 
 When wolves run past your door-step let them run. 
 8
 
 THE STORY OF A LIE. 49 
 
 But William cried, " Stop for a moment, Jess, 
 And tell us a big lie. ; ' Jesse liked it not. 
 Ne'er ask a hangman how to tie a noose. 
 
 But hastily and sadly he replied, 
 ' This is no time for lying now ; oh, woe ! " 
 A wanton widow may wear darkest weeds. 
 
 " Your Uncle Sol died very suddenly 
 An hour ago, and you would have me lie ! " 
 Who weaveth nets is often caught in them. 
 
 " And I am riding for the coroner, 
 And for a coffin. William, learn from this 
 Never while living ask a man to lie" 
 
 Then William ran in and told his wife, 
 
 And he and she and all the family 
 
 Burst into tears. The thistle soon bears thorns. 
 
 And in his waggon, leaving everything, 
 They posted off and on, four miles away. 
 The eagle hastens at the eaglet's cry. 
 
 And when arrived they found the family 
 In the large kitchen, but in ne'er a grief. 
 It pains a man at times to miss his pain. 
 
 4
 
 THE STORY OF A LIE. 
 
 There Uncle Sol was buried to the eyes, 
 In a great water-melon, lush and red. 
 Life's sweetest things are water, after all : 
 
 Which rises in a mist, and comes again 
 As rainy tears. And William almost wept 
 For rage, because he had no cause to cry. 
 
 But after this he never did entreat 
 
 Another man to tell a lie to him. 
 
 Burnt child seeks not a second time the fire.
 
 THE 
 LEGEND 
 
 OF 
 
 SAINT 
 ANTHONY 
 
 HE seek - no - 
 further face of 
 loveliness, 
 
 The perfect 
 form of fawn- 
 like springful- 
 ness, 
 
 And rich as a 
 bonanza just 
 unbound : 
 
 Catherine Van Peyster, of Fifth Avenue. 
 
 She lived a year in Europe but for aye 
 In all the hearts of all who met her there ; 
 And then her pa allowed her boundless cash, 
 Which she laid out in glorious works of art. 
 
 4 2
 
 52 THE LEGEND OF SAINT ANTHONY. 
 
 Such as the dream-like dresses made by Worth, 
 And heavenly hats by Virot, and all things 
 Refined, aesthetic, swell, and classical ; 
 Yea, even a picture she bought everything. 
 
 'T is true it was a picture of herself, 
 And when she ordered it she simply said, 
 " I know that I am very beautiful, 
 My mirror tells me that distinctively ; 
 
 But I am also very clever too, 
 
 For I am of a clever family, 
 
 Papa and sisters all are awful smart ; 
 
 Now you must make it somehow sparkle out 
 
 " In what you paint. And as for me, I guess 
 I '11 show you how to fix it wait a bit 
 Ain't there a saint they call Saint Catherine ? 
 One of my beaux, I think, once called me that." 
 
 " Si, Ilhtstrissima" the artist said, 
 " Dere is a Santa Catarina, who 
 Is beautiful most of the oder sants, 
 Vitch giusto suit so lovely mad as you I
 
 THE LEGEND OF SAINT ANTHONY. 53 
 
 " And she do always hold opon a vheel." 
 
 " I see ! " cried Miss Van Peyster ' just the thing 
 
 The wheel of fortune and the loveliest saint ; 
 
 That 's me exactly What a perfect fit ! " 
 
 And so 't was painted, and the painted pair, 
 Saint Catherine and Miss Catherine, went across 
 Unto New York ; and many people came 
 To call and worship or to make believe. 
 
 And with the rest came Mr. Anthony, 
 A blooming broker, and a mighty man, 
 Who did not think small brewings of himself, 
 Albeit his studies had been very small, 
 
 And very few i' the heap. His face and form 
 Were greasiness and grossness well combined, 
 With sneeriness and nearness in the eyes ; 
 He seemed a kind of coarsest Capuchin. 
 
 And much he did admire the quaint conceit 
 Of being taken as a holy saint, 
 And said, " I 'd like to try that thing myself. 
 How could a feller fix it Catherine ? "
 
 54 THE LEGEND OF SAINT ANTHONY. 
 
 11 Easy enough," replied the beautiful : 
 " You Ve only got to send your photograph 
 Out to my man in Florence, and to Bay, 
 ' Votis peignez moi comme le Saint Anthony.' 
 
 " I '11 write it for you if you have a card, 
 And he will fix it for you comme il fant." 
 That very hour the heavy shaver wrote, 
 And sent the order for his portraiture. 
 
 And in due time 't was done and further on 
 
 'T was in the Custom House and thence 't was sent 
 
 To the Spring Exhibition in New York, 
 
 There was no time to send it to " the House." 
 
 And Anthony himself beheld it not 
 Till it had hung a week upon " the walls," 
 And all the newspapers had served it up, 
 And all the world had merry made withal. 
 
 Yea, he was in it clad in dirty rags, 
 A vile abomination. In his hand 
 A monstrous rosary. The Sunday Press 
 Said 't was a rope of onions, meant to feed
 
 7 HE LEGEND OF SAINT ANTHONY. 55 
 
 The monstrous hog which filled the canvas up, 
 So vast in its proportions that it seemed 
 As Anthony were waiting on the hog, 
 And not the hog upon Saint Anthony. 
 
 In it and in for it. Just as the Saint 
 Of Padua is painted, with his pig, 
 Only a little more so. And thus ends 
 The tale of the great hog and Anthony.
 
 A RUSSIAN LYRIC. 
 
 AIR " Denkst du daran mein tapfre Lagienka. 
 
 ' SALTOKOFF SKUPCHIROFSKY," said the ruler 
 
 Of Russia to his captain of the guard, 
 " I will retire ; the night is growing cooler 
 
 Have all the troops been posted in the yard ? " 
 ' They have, my liege, and in the tower o'er you 
 
 The watchman, with an opera-glass, afar 
 Looks out to see that no one comes to bore you : 
 
 Bogu Tsarachnie ! God protect the Tsar ! "
 
 A RUSSIAN LYRIC. 57 
 
 " What have you done with him who came this morning, 
 
 And wanted me to buy a lightning-rod ? " 
 " He sleeps beneath the Neva, as a warning 
 
 To others like him, not as yet in quod." 
 " The girl who bored us for a contribution 
 
 To send her blessed clergyman afar ? " 
 " She 's strangled by the Seventh Resolution : 
 
 Bogu Tsarachnie / God protect the Tsar ! " 
 
 " And where is he who gave us the conniptions, 
 
 That cheeky man from the United States, 
 Who came unto my bedside for subscriptions 
 
 To what was it ? the ' Life of Sergeant Bates ' ? " 
 " Upon a special train that man is flying 
 
 Unto Siberia in a third-class car; 
 Thou badest him ' dry up ! ' and he is drying : 
 Bogu Tsarachnie I God protect the Tsar ! ' 
 
 " And where is he who bored us for insurance 
 
 On life or fire, who down the chimney came ? " 
 " My liege, beneath our feet in deepest durance 
 
 He pays with penance for his little game." 
 " And, after him, the pedlar who came plungin' 
 
 Into the parlour, smoking a cigar ? " 
 " Ask of the vipers in the palace dungeon : 
 
 Bogu Tsarachnie ! God protect the Tsar !
 
 58 A RUSSIAN L YRIC. 
 
 " And that young man who always kept a-saying, 
 
 ' That is the kind of hair-pin that I am ' ? " 
 ' My liege, the strychnine in his vitals playing 
 
 May tell you how I stopped that kind of flam. 
 " And he who at this day is still repeating, 
 
 ' What, never, never? ' " " In a butt of tar 
 We coopered ///;//. His heart 's no longer beating : 
 Bogit Tsarachnie ! God protect the Tsar ! " 
 
 " And where is he who on the imperial fences 
 
 Inscribed Pvp's Bitters, and Take Fooler's Pills?" 
 " My lord, his medicines were no defences, 
 
 In Hades he atones for earthly ills." 
 " And that confounded nuisance of a Scotch Guard 
 
 Who played his bagpipes up and down the car ? " 
 "My lord, the imperial headsman wears his watch-guard : 
 
 Bogu Tsarachnie ! God protect the Tsar ! " 
 
 " Captain, 'tis well. Now, telegraph to London 
 
 That every Nihilist has had his dose, 
 And that a fresh conspiracy is undone, 
 
 And keep the gum-drop, corn-ball peddlers close 
 Who spread sedition in the trains to 'stress me ; 
 
 And keep the gates of anarchy ajar ; 
 So may Saint Feoderskidobry bless thee ! 
 
 Eogu Tsarachnie! God protect the Tsar
 
 MELODRAMNA TION. 
 
 "Now Mr. Gallagher is satisfied." 
 So says the' Boston Post. The facts are these : 
 He is the chief of a theatric club, 
 And as he deems that he can melodram, 
 He melodrammed for it a mighty piece 
 Of thundering incidents and awful scenes, 
 Which called for just nine actors. And they all
 
 60 MEL ODRA A1NA TION. 
 
 Declared that each had got the worst and curst 
 
 Of all the parts, and that 't was written thus 
 
 To boom the fame of selfish Gallagher ; 
 
 So the first night they came upon the boards, 
 
 With hearts like hornets and with souls like snakes 
 
 And feeling like old pizen, all agog 
 
 To be revenged upon the common foe, 
 
 Who was to act the hero. Act the first : 
 
 The hero and his mother meet to part, 
 
 And on her shoulders and o'er all her bust 
 
 The parent had put pins by papers-full, 
 
 Till she was like a frightful porcupine ; 
 
 And when she pressed her darling to her breast, 
 
 The pins en masse entered his very soul, 
 
 And pri, ked his nose, and ran into his cheeks, 
 
 So that he howled ; but his mamma held on, 
 
 Easing her heart with rapturous revenge 
 
 While agonizing his. In the next act 
 
 He was on shipboard, and 't was in the plot 
 
 That he should be knocked down and cuffed about 
 
 By a most cruel captain ; and, God knows, 
 
 The captain played that part most perfectly, 
 
 Since in the start he went for Gallagher 
 
 With a belaying-pin, and laid him out 
 
 Secundem ariem, and then let him up, 
 
 Only to let into him twice as hot, 
 
 'Mid rapturous hurrahs. In the next act
 
 MELODRAMNATION. 61 
 
 The hero led the crew to mutiny, 
 And Gallagher was glorious ; but just then 
 Some one let down the trap on which he stood, 
 And there he was, up to his waist in stage, 
 Unable to get up or to go down, 
 And thus they kept him in captivity 
 While all the audience guyed him. When he strove 
 To climb they lowered him, and when he sought 
 To dodge beneath they highered him again ; 
 So he went up and down like Erie stock 
 Until the scene was shifted. In the next 
 He fought the villain of the play, and this 
 Was Mr. Hencoop Smith, a stalwart rogue, 
 Extremely high on muscle, and the way 
 He lathered Gallagher about the stage 
 Was Awful Gardener. And when Smith should cry, 
 " Forgive me I am crushed ! " and Gallagher 
 Replied, " I '11 have your life ! " the hero lay 
 Under the table, while his adversary 
 Bemauled him with a chair-leg. It was o'er, 
 And Gallagher, all black and blue, went home 
 To plotter out revenge. On the next night 
 The piece was adverred to be played again, 
 And Gallagher sent round a messenger, 
 Who said he was too ill to play his part, 
 But he would send a substitute. He did 
 A giant-like ferocious prize-fighter,
 
 62 MELODRAMNA 7 ION. 
 
 Under another name. And how he played ! 
 
 He squeezed the mother into raving fits, 
 
 And jerked her wig away by accident, 
 
 And threw the cruel captain down the trap, 
 
 And larruped all the actors ; and when Smith 
 
 Came on to fight, he took him by the heels 
 
 And mopped the stage with him until 't was clean, 
 
 Then hurled him through the flat. All was a wreck : 
 
 And in the front seat sat the Gallagher, 
 
 And laughed until he cried. Revenge is sweet !
 
 A TALE OF IDAHO. 
 
 WHEN they had finished the ethnology, 
 And polished up the climate and the crops, 
 And glorified the different kinds of bugs, 
 And told in turn their lies about the snakes, 
 And fish and deer and things, of Idaho, 
 A pensive cuss in spectacles inquired, 
 " All this is well enough ; now how about 
 Your educational facilities? 
 And let me see in dots the time they go." 
 
 " And that 's the only thing we really lack," 
 Replied the Ancient, with a silvery sigh ; 
 
 " We do defect in that ostensibly. 
 We have the schools, but then we cannot git 
 The folks to run 'em, or who will remain 
 Adjacent to 'em, for they will not keep." 
 How ! do they die ? " " Wall, some on 'em expired, 
 Though Idaho ain't an expirin' State; 
 But I will tell you just the time they go. 
 
 " We had a fine young fellow from the East, 
 He licked the boys, and also kissed the gals, 
 And was all round uncommon popular, 
 Bein' likewise an awful fightin' man,
 
 64 A TALE OF IDAHO. 
 
 And there he did slop over. For one day 
 He met a grizzly bar upon the prowl, 
 And whistled to it, and the grizzly come; 
 But when he went he carried by express 
 All of that fine young man inside of him; 
 And that is just about the time they go. 
 
 " We had another from Connecticut : 
 A widder run him down, and married him 
 Inside the very school-house where he taught, 
 Just as an Injun cooks a terrapin 
 In its own shell, or as a lovely deer 
 Is sometimes aboriginally biled 
 Inside of its own skin, for that poor man 
 Has been in bilin' water ever sense : 
 They say she makes it solemn hot for him. 
 And that is just about the time they go. 
 
 "The third was well enough, but he was lame; 
 I needn't tell you how that one got spiled; 
 For sense he couldn't run, one day, of course, 
 The Injuns overtook him, and the way 
 They treated him was pretty nigh as bad 
 As if they had been widders, and that man 
 Their lawful spouse. They also made it hot, 
 Because they took and briled him at the stake. 
 And that is just about the time they go.
 
 A TALE OF IDAHO. 
 
 " Then we tried women-folks to keep the school. 
 We writ for one. She came; and as she lit 
 Down from the stage, a man proposed to her 
 And was accepted, and she married him 
 That very night; in fact, within an hour 
 He gin a party, and we had a dance; 
 But Education suffered all the same, 
 
 5
 
 66 A TALE OF IDAHO. 
 
 As she declined to teach, bein' inclined 
 To conjugate excuse my little joke 
 But that is just about the time they go. 
 
 " The second wall, / took the second one 
 About the middle of the week she come; 
 But telegraphed unto the Institute, 
 
 'Send on some more; keep sending of 'em on. 
 And so they kept a-comin,' but they kep' 
 A-going speedier than they arrove, 
 For the third lady was abducted by 
 A highwayman before she got to us 
 She took it awful kindly, I believe. 
 And that is just about the time they go." 
 
 " But why," exclaimed the wondering traveller, 
 
 " Don't you obtain a scareful, ugly one 
 Some hideous old faggot, just like that 
 Tremendous terror with the lantern-jaws 
 By yonder ticket-window ? She would keep." 
 
 "Alas! how strange," replied the Ancient Man; 
 
 " How is it that you people from the East 
 Will never understand us pioneers ? 
 That woman is my wife the very one 
 I cut away from school ; and she 's by far 
 The handsomest there was in all the drove. 
 For that is just about the time they go."
 
 A CALIFORNIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 KNOW'ST thou the burning lay of Dante's own, 
 " Nix mangiare e il diavolol 
 
 Ma peggior la donna " ? that 's to say, 
 " 'T is hard to be. hard up, but harder still 
 
 To get ahead of women." Never much, 
 
 While in Night's cushion stars like pin-heads shine. 
 
 Oh, listen to me, for the tale I tell 
 
 Is of Chicago, and the latest out, 
 
 And by the noble Tribune novelist. 
 " Say, do you mean it, honest Injun, now ? " 
 
 Said Vivian O'Riley to his sire. 
 " And faith I do," the earnest sire replied : 
 " Marry this girl if so ye choose, me son, 
 
 But if ye do the divil a ha'penny 
 
 Of all me fortune will yees ever see, 
 
 While in Night's cushion stars like pin-hids shine." 
 
 Two hours have passed, and so have eight or ten 
 Slow rolling tramway cars, until there comes 
 The one which Vivian wants, and soon it lands 
 
 52
 
 68 A CALIFORNIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 The lover at the door of Pericles 
 
 O'Rourke, the father of bellissima, 
 
 The Lady Ethelberta. Lo, she sits 
 
 In her boudoir (the high-toned word for " room ' ), 
 
 Casting her soul in reverie o'er the trees, 
 
 While in Night's cushion stars like pin-heads shine. 
 
 " I have bad news for you, my utmost own," 
 Said Vivian in sad tones unto his love. 
 
 " Cusses and crocuses upon my luck ! 
 And damns and daffodils on everything ! " 
 And as he spoke there came into his face 
 A grey old scaly look which seemed to say, 
 Doift bluff or you' 1 II be called. "My dad and I 
 Have had a round about, and he has dis 
 Sis sis inherited me ; and I have 
 Been given the g.-b. on your account, 
 My be b beau tiful. And I am now 
 A beg egg eggar for you, Bertie dear ! 
 While in Night's cushion stars like pin-heads shine." 
 
 Her soft dusk eyes grew wide and serious. 
 
 " Yes," he continued, " I am regular poor, 
 Poor as a busted Indian, and of course 
 It follows in the logic of our life 
 That I must give you up. I cannot ask
 
 A CALIFORNIAN ROMANCE. 69 
 
 One in the golden glory of events 
 
 To come and share a fate which runs upon 
 
 A thousand annual dollars. Ne'er a case. 
 
 While in Night's cushion stars like pin-heads shine." 
 
 She looked at him with an incarnadine, 
 
 Rich, passionate, scarlet-sanguine crimson flush 
 
 Surging into her cheeks. If it had been 
 
 A/K//, 'tis probable that Vivian 
 
 Would have gone under; but a flush 
 
 Could never scare him or his similar, 
 
 While in Night's cushion stars like pin-heads shine. 
 
 " Oh, Vivian ! " she gurgled, like a dove, 
 " Oh, do you think I will let up on you ? 
 And do you deem I would go back upon 
 The note I signed, and run to protest? no 
 Not while the snowy paper of my truth 
 Is quired by the young-eyed cherubim, 
 And in Night's cushion stars like pin-heads shine. 
 
 Three months or ninety days went by, and then 
 Upon a golden Californian 
 December afternoon, with azure skies 
 Like those of summer as they are produced 
 In less expensive countries, men beheld 
 A diamondaine wedding at the house
 
 70 A CALIFORNIAN ROMANCE. 
 
 Of Ethelberta's sire. As Vivian 
 And his fair bride sat in the car ri age 
 Which bore them to the station, ever on 
 She gazed upon him like a Lamia 
 With a strange look, which one might call, in fact, 
 A weirdly precious smile. He gazed at her. 
 " And so you would not leave me, love ? " he cooed, 
 " Even when you thought me poor ? " And she replied, 
 " Never, my precious one. I learned lang syne 
 That when a sucker once drops off the hook 
 It never bites again. And well you know 
 That you were on the point of dropping off, 
 And so your pa and I put up the job 
 So as to land you, dear as faith we did 
 A little quicker. Oh, men, men, men, men ! 
 If ye thus round, girls will get square with you, 
 While in Night's cushion stars like pin-heads shine."
 
 THE STORY OF MR. SCROPER, 
 ARCHITECT. 
 
 YES, I '11 tell you how it happened that, too, with 
 
 all due respect 
 
 To the memory of Scroper, late departed architect 
 How it came that he departed so abruptly in the 
 
 train; 
 Why it was he 's been so late, too, in returnin' back 
 
 again. 
 
 Now some folks are born to greatness, some achieve 
 
 it, as you Ve read ; 
 And some justly stand and take it as it dollops on 
 
 their head ; 
 ^hit in this sublime Republic, where it 's help and 
 
 help again, 
 We all generally make it in cahoot with other men. 
 
 Scroper was a fine young fellow, of a monstrous 
 
 enterprise ; 
 Likewise really d-ambitious, for he was so bound to 
 
 rise,
 
 72 MR. SC ROPER, ARCHITECT. 
 
 And he left no stone unturned nor a log he rolled 
 
 'em all, 
 Till at last he got the contract for our new great City 
 
 Hall. 
 
 Now, of all our mortal actors here upon this earthly 
 
 stage, 
 The contractors have the hardest parts to play, I will 
 
 engage ; 
 Specially in bran-new cities, just between the knead 
 
 and bake, 
 And where all the population are severely on the 
 
 make. 
 
 What between the Common Council, and the more 
 uncommon sort, 
 
 Politicians, Press, and preachers, Scroper fell un 
 common short. 
 
 All of such as come a-plummin' when a puddin 's to 
 be had ; 
 
 All against his best contractin' counter-actin' mighty 
 bad. 
 
 Therefore when this edificial had got up his edifice, 
 All who 'd not been edifishing with him soon got up 
 a hiss ;
 
 MR. SCROPER, ARCHITECT. 73 
 
 Said the stuff upon the buildin' was the worst that 
 
 could be had, 
 Likewise called the architexture architechnically bad. 
 
 So it came one solemn evenin' in a Presbyterian rain 
 Mr. Scroper all in silence gently took the Northern 
 
 train ; 
 All he left was one small message to a friend who 
 
 shared his home, 
 When the darned affair blows over, telegraph for me 
 
 to come. - 
 
 So he sat one summer mornin', far away in Montreal, 
 Musin' on his recent patrons, while at heart he darned 
 
 'em all, 
 When there came a little letter datin' fron his recent 
 
 home, 
 " All the thing is quite blown over, back again we bid 
 
 you come. 
 
 " For last night we had a tempest, while the mighty 
 
 thunder rang, 
 Up there came a real guster, which blew down the whole 
 
 shebang. 
 (Shebang's a word from Hebrew, meanin' Seven, 
 
 sayeth Krupp, 
 And applied to any shanty where they play at 
 
 seven-up.)
 
 74 
 
 MR. SCROPER, ARCHITECT. 
 
 " Truly it was well blown over all to splinders in the 
 
 night, 
 And the winds of heaven are blowing o'er the ruins as 
 
 I write." 
 Gentlemen, the story 's over. It would last for many 
 
 a day 
 If it told of every buildin' built upon the swindlin' lay.
 
 THAT INTERESTIN' BOY. 
 
 HE sat upon the window-sill and jingled ninety cents. 
 There came along another boy, who said, " How are you, 
 Pence ? You 're goin' out a-Christmassin', 1 guess, among 
 the Dutch, to buy some gifts." The other spoke : " No 
 - not exactly much. I am in luck, this year, I am. I 
 haven't any bills. My sister 's sick, and can't expect no 
 presents but -her pills. My brother Ben 's in Canada, 
 away upon the wing. Of course, you know he can't 
 suppose I '11 buy him anything. My mother pulled my 
 hair, last night, until she made me squall. Of course she 
 knows that she's gone up for anything at all." "But 
 there's your father," said his friend. "Well, yes I 
 really thought that I was stuck on the old man, and that 
 he had me caught, and I was kinder looking round to 
 hunt him up a pipe ; but then, this very mornin' he hit 
 me such a wipe ! That fixed his Christmas goose for 
 him, and took away his joy. Now all this money 's goin' 
 to a good and clever boy, to buy him lots of pea-nuts and 
 candy, I '11 engage with caramels ; and that good boy is 
 just my size and age."
 
 MISS MILES, THE TELEGRAPH GIRL. 
 
 Thy heart is like some icy lake, 
 
 On whose cold brink I stand ; 
 Oh, buckle on my spirit's skate, 
 
 And take me by the hand ! 
 
 And lead, thou living saint, the way 
 
 To where the ice is thin, 
 That it may break beneath my feet, 
 
 And let a lover in. 
 
 Spiritualistic Poetry. 
 
 SINCE Soul first basked in Passion's 
 
 sun, 
 
 I always ran to seed 
 In seeking One who'd gone and 
 
 done 
 
 Some great heroic deed; 
 And deemed I'd find Life's Earnest 
 
 Truth 
 
 In Gloriana Clarke, 
 Whose eyes were like two carriage 
 
 lamps 
 Advancing through the dark. 
 
 But as the rose of morning fades 
 
 Before the fire of 'noon, 
 Or sparrows yield in sylvan glades 
 
 To mocking-birds in June,
 
 MISS MILES, THE TELEGRAPH GIRL. 77 
 
 My Gloriana's stock went down 
 Its wheat all turned to chaff 
 
 When I got in with Mar) r Miles, 
 Who ran the telegraph. 
 
 Her brow betokened serious life ; 
 
 I knew my final queen ; 
 A soul divine in gaiter-boots, 
 
 A Dream in crinoline. 
 Her parasol a glory seemed 
 
 Around a vivid saint, 
 The whole one spirit-photograph 
 
 Illumed with heavenly paint 
 
 And thus she lifted up her voice, 
 
 That mission-mantled maid ; 
 And thus she spoke with golden grace, 
 
 And sacredly she said 
 A-pointing at me all the time 
 
 With that same parasol, 
 The light which gleams from silent lands 
 
 Around her seemed to fall 
 
 " You 've told of great and holy deeds 
 
 I s'pose they all are true 
 But in our telegraphic line 
 We Ve some adventures, too ;
 
 78 MISS MILES, THE TELEGRAPH GIRL. 
 
 And though I do not like to boast 
 
 Of what I ever done, 
 One thing my Moral Consciousness 
 
 Declares was Number One. 
 
 " Last Fall I was in Tennessee 
 
 A-travelling might and main, 
 When all at once the engine broke 
 
 They couldn't run the train ; 
 And if another train should come 
 
 'T would rather make us scream." 
 List to the glorious deed she did, 
 
 This angel of my dream. 
 
 " I saw a telegraphic line 
 
 Was running by our rout, 
 Though not a house or a machine 
 
 Was anywhere about. 
 And the conductor said, said he, 
 
 With his wild eyes of light . 
 ' Miss Miles, if we 'd a battery, 
 I 'd fix this scrape all right 
 
 " ' I 'd send 'em down a telegram 
 
 Some twenty miles below, 
 And ask for help.' I looked at him- 
 ' I '11 fix the buisness, Joe.
 
 MISS MILES, THE TELEGRAPH GIRL. 79 
 
 Is there a pair of nippers here ? 
 
 If so, those nippers bring ; 
 And if you can't, a sharp-edged file 
 
 Would be a heaven-sent thing.'" 
 
 " Unshadowed girl ! I see the dodge ; " 
 
 I cried in rapturous joy ; 
 "And didst thou climb the post thyself?" 
 
 Said she, " I did, my boy. 
 A higher law of moral truth 
 Gave courage to my soul ; 
 I did not show my garters once 
 In going up the pole. 
 
 " No poet ever felt such thrills 
 
 In touching of his lyre 
 As I did when I found there came 
 
 A message through the wire. 
 That wire I cut, and 'tween my teeth 
 
 I held it ay, with pride 
 And with my tongue the current clicked 
 
 To the wire on t' other side. 
 
 " On one side came the message in 
 From some man in New York : 
 
 ' Buy if you can, at ninety-five, 
 Five thousand sides of pork.'
 
 8o MISS MILES, THE TELEGRAPH GIRL. 
 
 And this same electricity 
 
 I changed as in a flash : 
 ' Send down an engine right away, 
 
 Or we shall go to smash' 
 
 " The engine came, and all were saved 
 
 Yet life is but a Dream. 
 I live thou livest in a cloud : 
 
 We are not what we seem. 
 Still craving for the Infinite 
 
 In Time's ideal lodge, 
 I grasped a Truth yet after all 
 
 'T was but an earthly dodge." 
 
 I gazed upon that spirit grand, 
 
 Upon my knees I sank, 
 And from mine eyes the burning sand 
 
 The scalding tear-drops drank. 
 Then soft she smiled : " If deeds like this 
 
 Can yield such victory, 
 And I am in your line, my love, 
 
 Then, love, I yield to thee." 
 
 Ho, maidens of Vienna's show ! 
 
 Ho, matrons of Lucerne ! 
 Look out for us next summer, when 
 
 We give your shop a turn.
 
 MISS MILES, THE TELEGRAPH GIRL. 81 
 
 I have won my soul's ideal, 
 I have booked her for a wife ; 
 
 And the Fancy and the Real 
 Are united in my life.
 
 AN AMERICAN COCK-TALE. 
 
 PROFESSOR LUTHER CRANMER BANGS 
 Has travelled in Europe more than a year, 
 And no one need ever be'troubled with pangs 
 At telling him aught which he thought was severe 
 For there 's ne'er a Yankee of any size, 
 No matter how sharply he chaffs or slangs, 
 That can boast he ever has taken a rise 
 On Professoi Luther Cranmer Bangs. 
 
 He was the man whom Dr. Snayle 
 Read a lecture to on a morning call 
 Read it clear through from bill to tail ; 
 And Bangs like Old Piety bore it all. 
 Said Snayle, when the sheets were all up-read, 
 " I 'm a-going with this to Boston, you know " 
 " I 'm glad to hear it," his listener said : 
 " I always did hate those Bostonians so ! " 
 
 Well, last week on a City Atlas 'bus 
 The Professor and I went riding down, 
 While the driver politely gave to us 
 Opinions on things about the town.
 
 AN AMERICAN COCK-TALE. 83 
 
 And finding my friend was " prone to receive," 
 And came from the Western land afar, 
 He told him just what one ought to believe 
 In politics, piety, love, and war. 
 
 Then glancing at Bangs, who sat to leeward, 
 
 Looking as mild as cambric tea, 
 
 He said : " I once 'ad but I soon got cured 
 
 Of a wish to go to Amerikee. 
 
 I was tired of always a-drivin' these cusses, 
 
 And so I thought I would like to range " 
 
 " You were right," said Bangs. " In our Yankee 
 
 'busses 
 It 's the driver who takes (and keeps) the change ! " 
 
 Sharp glanced the driver at Bangs ; then said, 
 " What scared me of goin' was this, d'ye see, 
 I 'd a friend in New York, whose letters I read ; 
 And he wrote : In the whole of your country, 
 He 'ad looked the biggest graveyards through, 
 Looked 'em through with uncommon keer, 
 But never 'ad come to a single view 
 Of a cove* as vos aged fifty year. 
 
 Cove. A word erroneously supposed to be slang. It is derived 
 from the Gipsy covo or covi, meaning that that fellow, that thing. 
 
 62
 
 84 AN AMERICAN COCK-TALE. 
 
 " And as this is the case in hevery state, 
 I think there 's nothink on hearth for cure'n 
 A chap hof a fancy to hemigrate 
 Like readin' of them graveyards of yourn. 
 So I thought I 'd rather perlong my breath, 
 Tho' sometimes here a fellow they hangs " 
 
 " You are right, my friend. Choose your own way ot 
 
 death, 
 /go in for that," said Professor Bangs. 
 
 " But I see you have not understood 
 Why no aged person is ever found 
 Among us. We only want young blood 
 On our driving, thriving, Yankee ground. 
 Youth alone has the power to go it ; 
 Old men are a drag on putting it through, 
 So we kill them off and our tombstones show it 
 Before they arrive at a dozen and two." 
 
 Here the driver gave a long cherrup ! 
 And gazed at the Yankee, dark and wan, 
 As if he had woke the wrong passenger up 
 While calmly Professor Bangs went on : 
 
 " In walking up and down Broadway, 
 Large mourning sign-boards at times appear 
 With this inscription in letters grey 
 
 ' Elderly persons extinguished here. '
 
 AN AMERICAN COCK-TALE. 85 
 
 " And they put in your hand a pamphlet small, 
 Adapted to people of different stations, 
 Which cites the law, and exhorts them all 
 To dismiss in peace their old relations. 
 Why let them linger in a vale,' 
 It states, ' where often colds they catch ? 
 Send them to us, and we '11 end the tale 
 With politeness, humanity, and dispatch. 
 
 "'N.B. For those who would die by the trigger 
 We Ve a merciful man who 's a practised shot, 
 With an elegant room, and a careful nigger 
 To lay them genteelly out on the spot. 
 Our principal has a chemist of fame, 
 Whom he exclusively employs on 
 Those who set their checks on a different game 
 And like to pass to heaven by poison.' 
 
 " T is thus the ladies generally choose it ; 
 They love to die without pain or pangs 
 By a nice little globule who. could refuse it ? 
 None but a man," said Professor Bangs. 
 
 " A saw buck extra they always charge 
 For the stylish mode of extinguishing breath. 
 A saw buck 's ten dollars. It 's rather large, 
 But then it ensures you a cocktail death "
 
 86 AN AMERICAN COCK-TALE. 
 
 " Vot may that be ? " said the driver, meekly, 
 In the tone of a greatly altered man. 
 I observed that he seemed to be growing weakly 
 Since the Professor his story began. 
 
 " A cocktail 's a tipple America vaunts of it. 
 So flavoured, so foamy, so spiced, and whirled, 
 That he who can get as much as he wants of it 
 Very soon drinks himself out of the world. 
 
 "'Tis said in the sky right over Paris, 
 Where the American heaven is found, 
 Where everything brick-like and fast and rare is 
 The cocks with tumblers for tails run round. 
 They cut to the bar for all things thinkable, 
 All that is nice is a gratis boon, 
 Then they come back with your favourite drinkable, 
 And their sickle-feather 's a silver spoon ! 
 
 " But he who invented the cocktail brew is 
 The man before you. Thus came the hint : 
 I had once been kissing a pretty Jewess, 
 Who just before had been nibbling mint ; 
 And in order to recall the taste 
 Which I found in pressing her luscious two lips, 
 I mingled brandy and mint, in haste, 
 With sugar and ice and thus made Juleps.
 
 AN AMERICAN COCK-TALE. 87 
 
 " The first step was, therefore, the julep perfected, 
 Which gives us a menthal spirit of wine ; 
 And finding myself thereby respected, 
 I sought to make bitter and sweet combine. 
 So I took of bitters aromatic 
 (I prefer the tincture of bark myself, 
 With orange flavoured, but if you lack it, 
 Try any kind on the bar-room shelf) 
 
 " And I fixed them with sugar, and ice, and spirits, 
 In a silver tumbler, lightning- quick, sir, 
 Which I shook till all their several merits 
 Were combined in one subtle and strange elixir. 
 Then I passed it through a silver sieve 
 Kept carefully free from spot or rust ; 
 And the final jimglorious touch to give, 
 I threw in a spi inkle of nutmeg-dust. 
 
 " And I am told by the spirit-rappers 
 That in the American Paris-heaven, 
 Though they 've fancy drinks which are total snap 
 pers, 
 
 There 's nothing better than mine are given. 
 So they die in New York without any pangs, 
 For they know in the next world, to requite 'em, 
 They '11 sit over Paris," said Mister Bangs, 
 
 " A-drinking cocktails ad infinitum."
 
 AN AMERICAN COCK-TALE. 
 
 Here we got down, and the driver said, 
 " Veil, you 're of the kind that will allers bang 'em ! " 
 And turning our mocassins homeward, we sped 
 To that great American wigwam, the Langham. 
 Said Bangs, " O'er my eyes there is drawn no wool. 
 That man has no heart who would tell you a mock 
 
 tale; 
 
 But story for story I told to the Bull, 
 What I call 
 
 A REAL AMERICAN COCKTAIL "
 
 JUDGE WYMAN. 
 
 A RURAL YANKEE LEGEND. 
 
 LONG ago, in the State of Maine, 
 
 There lived a Judge a good old soul, 
 Rather well up in the " genial vein," 
 
 And not by any means " down on " the bowl. 
 N.B. By " bowl " I mean the " cup," 
 
 And by "cup" N.B. I mean a.g/ass, 
 Since neither bowls nor cups go up 
 
 At present when we our liquor pass. 
 (Although I recall 
 'T is three years this Fall 
 When travelling in the wilderness, 
 And things were all in an awful mess, 
 And our crockery, with a horrible crash, 
 Had gone its way to eternal smash 
 (It came, as the driver allowed, from racin'), 
 We drank champagne from a tin wash-basin. 
 Excuse the digression non est crimen 
 And return to our Judge, whose name was Wyman.)
 
 90 JUDGE WYMAN. 
 
 The Judge oft drank in a hostelrie 
 
 Kept by a man whose name was Sterret, 
 
 Where he met with jolly company, 
 
 But where the whisky was void of merit. 
 
 The real Minie rifle brand, 
 
 That at forty rods kills out of hand. 
 
 Well, it came to pass that one night the Judge 
 
 At Sterret's, after a long, hot day, 
 Got so tight that he couldn't budge, 
 
 And found himself " well over the bay," 
 With a " snake in his boot " and one in his hat, 
 
 Like a biled owl, or a monkey horned, 
 Tangle-legged, hawk-eyed, on a bat, 
 
 Peepy, skewered, and slewed, and corned. 
 Couldn't tell a skunk from a pint of Cologne, 
 
 Couldn't see the difference 'tween ftps and cents. 
 And when he attempted to walk alone, 
 
 Simply made a Virginia fence; 
 Till liquor yielded at last to sleep, 
 And he sank into Dream River four miles deep. 
 
 Sanctus Ivus fuit Briio, advocatus sed non latro. 
 " Saint Ives the Briton first took a brief, 
 For, though a lawyer, he wasn't a thief." 
 This is what the story declares, 
 Which says he listens to lawyers' prayers.
 
 JUDGE WYMAN. 91 
 
 Likely enough ! perhaps he may 
 Whenever a lawyer tries to pray ! 
 But another legend, old and quaint, 
 Assigns them a different kind of saint, 
 With a singular foot and peculiar hue, 
 Whose breath is tinged with a beautiful blue; 
 
 And this was rather the saint, I think, 
 Who inspired the young lawyers, twenty-four, 
 
 Who helped Judge Wyman to stow his drink, 
 And made them rejoice to hear him snore. 
 
 Who, save the devil, would not have wept 
 To see these graceless legal loons 
 
 Tricking the good old Judge as he slept, 
 And filling his pockets with Sterret's spoons ? 
 
 With silver spoons; likewise for butter 
 A handsome ten-dollar silver knife; 
 
 Then put Judge Wyman on a shutter, 
 And carried him home to his loving wife. 
 
 If any ladies read these rhymes, 
 
 Which in Edgar A. Poetry are called " runes," 
 They may just imagine what sort of times 
 
 Mrs. Wyman had when she found the spoons ! 
 The Judge's grief was full of merit, 
 
 And his lady wasn't inclined to flout it; 
 But she quietly took the spoons to Sterret, 
 
 And nothing more was said about it.
 
 92 JUDGE WYMAN. 
 
 A month went by, and Fama, the wench ! 
 
 Had not spread a whisper to urge remorse, 
 And Judge Wyman sat on the legal bench, 
 
 Trying a fellow for stealing a horse. 
 The evidence was all due north, 
 
 It froze the prisoner every minute, 
 Till Judge Wyman called the culprit forth, 
 
 And asked what " he had to say agin it ? " 
 
 The prisoner looked at the planks of pine 
 
 Of the little rural court-house ceiling, 
 At all the jury in a line, 
 
 Then answered, his only small card dealing, 
 " Judge, I hev lots of honesty, 
 
 But when I 'm drunk I can't control it ; 
 And as for this 'ere hoss d' ye see ? 
 
 I was drunk as blazes when I stole it." 
 Answered the Judge, " If this Court were a dunce, 
 
 She would say, in law that is no excuse ; 
 For the Court held that opinion once, 
 
 But of late her connection's been gettin' loose. 
 One may be certain on law to-day, 
 
 And find himself to-morrow dumb. 
 But answer me one thing truly, and say 
 
 Where'bouts it was you got your rum ?" 
 " I drank because I was invited, 
 
 And got my rum at Sterret's, d' ye see ?"
 
 JUDGE WYMAN. 93 
 
 " Mr Sheriff," cried the Judge, excited, 
 " This instant set that poor man free ! 
 The liquor that Sterret sells, by thunder ! 
 
 Would make a man do anything, 
 And some time or other, I shouldn't wonder 
 
 If it made a saint on the gallows swing ; 
 It will run a man to perdition quicker 
 
 Than it takes a fiddler to reel off tunes ; 
 Why, this Court herself once got drunk on that liquor, 
 
 And stole the whole of old Sterrefs spoons ! "
 
 IN NEVADA. 
 
 LIKE an awful alligator 
 Breathing fire and screeching hell-some, 
 With a pack of hounds behind him, 
 As if hunted by the devil, 
 Came the smoking locomotive, 
 Followed by the cars and tender, 
 Down among the mountain gorges, 
 Till it stopped before a village 
 As the starry night came on. 
 
 Just before a mountain village, 
 
 Where there was a howling shindy, 
 
 Just around a bran-new gallows, 
 
 With a roaring blazing bonfire, 
 
 Casting a red light upon it, 
 
 While a crowd of roughest rowdies 
 
 Shouted, " Cuss him ! darn his vitals ! 
 
 Bust him ! sink him ! burn him ! skin him ! " 
 
 Evidently much excited 
 
 As the starry night came on.
 
 IN NEVADA. 95 
 
 On the gallows stood a culprit 
 Shrieking painfully for mercy. 
 As the train and engine halted, 
 Louder yelled the gasping victim. 
 Then out cried the grim conductor, 
 " What in thunder is the matter ? 
 What 's ye doin' with that feller ? 
 Why Ve ye got both fire and gallows ? " 
 And unto him some one answered, 
 As the starry night came on : 
 
 " This all-fired, skunk-eyed villain, 
 Whom you see upon the gallows, 
 Lately stole the loveliest mewel* 
 That you ever sot your peeps on, 
 For a hundred shiny dollars, 
 Went and sold it to the Greasers. 
 But, as you perceive, we Ve nailed him, 
 And at present we 're debatin' 
 Whether we had better hang him, 
 Or else roast him like an Injun, 
 Ere the starry night comes on. 
 
 " And I think ez ther ar' ladies 
 Here to grace this gay occasion, 
 
 Mule.
 
 96 IN NEVADA. 
 
 In the train, and quite convenient, 
 We had better take an' burn him. 
 T would be kinder interesting 
 Or, as folks might say, romantic, 
 To behold an execution, 
 As we do 'em here in Hell Town, 
 In the real frontier fashion, 
 Ere the starry night comes on." 
 
 Up from all the assembled ladies, 
 And from all the passengeros, 
 Went a scream of protestation, 
 " What ! for nothing but a mewel ! 
 Only for a hundred dollars 
 Roast alive a fine young fellow ! 
 Never, never, never, ne ver ! " 
 Falling on her knees, a damsel 
 Begged the maddened crowd to spare him 
 And to her replied the spokesman, 
 As the starry night came on : 
 
 Since a lady begs it of us, 
 And as we ar' galiant fellers, 
 We will smash the tail of Jestis, 
 And will spare this orful miscrint, 
 Ef you '11 raise a hundred dollars 
 To replace the vanished mewel.
 
 IN NEVADA. 97 
 
 Then this fiend, unwhipped, undamaged, 
 May go wanderin' to thunder, 
 Soon as he darnation pleases, 
 Ere the starry night comes on." 
 
 Straight among the pitying ladies, 
 And the other passageros, 
 Went the hat around in circle. 
 Dollars, quarters, halves, and greenbacks 
 Rained into it till the hundred 
 Was accomplished, and the ransom 
 Paid unto Judge Lynch in person, 
 Who received it very gracious, 
 And at once released the prisoner, 
 Sternly bidding him to squaddie, 
 Just as fast as he could make it, 
 Ere the starry night came on. 
 
 And the lady who by kneeling 
 Had destroyed the path of justice, 
 Seized upon the fine young fellow, 
 He who had the mulomania, 
 Or who was a kleptomuliac ; 
 And she led him by the halter, 
 While the reckless population 
 Made atrocious puns upon it ; 
 And she stowed him in the Pullman 
 
 7
 
 98 IN NEVADA. 
 
 As the safest sanctuary, 
 
 As the starry night came on. 
 
 It was over. Loud the whistle 
 
 Blew a signal of departure; 
 
 Still the dying bonfire flickering 
 
 Showed on high the ghastly gallows, 
 
 Seeming like some hungry monster 
 
 Disappointed of a victim, 
 
 Gasping as in fitful anger, 
 
 Pouring out unto the gallows 
 
 Or the sympathetic scaffold 
 
 All the story of its sorrow, 
 
 As the clouds passed o'er the moon-face, 
 
 As the starry night came on. 
 
 Soon the train and those within it 
 
 Reached and passed a second station, 
 
 And was speeding ever onward, 
 
 When at once a shriek came ringing 
 
 'T was an utterance from the lady 
 
 Who by tears had baffled justice ; 
 
 Loud she cried, " Where is my hero ? 
 
 Where, oh, where 's the handsome prisoner? 1 
 
 And the affable conductor 
 
 Searched the train from clue to ear-ring, 
 
 But they could not find the captive.
 
 IN NEVADA. 99 
 
 He had clearly just evaded 
 
 At the station just behind them, 
 
 As the starry night came on. 
 
 Then outspoke a man unnoted 
 Hitherto : " I heard the fellow 
 Say just now to the conductor, 
 Ere we reached the second teapot, 
 That he reckoned he must hook it 
 This here time a little sooner, 
 If he hoped to get his portion 
 Of the hundred, since the last time 
 He came awful nigh to lose it ; 
 For it might be anted off all 
 'Fore he got a chance to strike it, 
 Ere the starry night came on. 
 
 And the Unknown thus continued: 
 " They hev hed that gallows standin' 
 All the summer, and the people 
 Mostly git ther livin' from it, 
 For they take ther turns in bein' 
 Mournful victims who hev stolen 
 Every one a lovely mewel ; 
 And they always every evenin' 
 Hev the awful death-fire kindled, 
 And the ghastly captive ready. 
 
 72
 
 ioo IN NEVADA. 
 
 It 's the fourth time I hev seen it, 
 Comin' through and never missed it, 
 Only for a variation 
 Now and then they hire a nigger 
 For the people from New England, 
 As the starry night comes on 
 
 " And they find that fire and gallows 
 Just as good as a bonanza, 
 For they got the Legislater 
 Lately to incopperate it ; 
 And I hear the stock is risin' 
 Up like prairie smoke in autumn. 
 Yes, in this world men diskiver 
 Cur'ous ways to make a livin', 
 Ez you '11 find when you hev tried it 
 For a year or so about here." 
 And the passengers in silence 
 Mused upon this new experience, 
 Most of all the fine young lady, 
 As the dragon darted onward, 
 And the starry night came on.
 
 THE PHILANTHROPIC CLUB. 
 
 I AM the member of a club of reg'lar noble seeds, 
 Whose object is to give rewards for philanthropic 
 
 deeds. 
 
 We root for magnanimity as spiders hunt for flies, 
 So we lately held a meeting to award our annual 
 
 prize. 
 
 Then our' President reported with great solemnity 
 The case of Dayball Carter, a man in Tennessee, 
 Who plunged into a burning store as if his doom had 
 
 come, 
 But emerged with an infant and a gallon jug of rum. 
 
 But the club could nowise settle, admitting all the 
 
 fact, 
 
 If the baby or the liquor had inspired the noble act, 
 For 't was proved he kept the liquor while he let the 
 
 infant go, 
 So the case of Mr. Carter was adjourned in dubio. 
 
 Then the Secretary read us, in very moving tones, 
 The wondrous case of courage of General Pompey 
 Jones,
 
 102 THE PHILANTHROPIC CLUB. 
 
 Who found a hydrophobia dog upon a neighbour's 
 
 farm, 
 And roped his neck and led him off where he could 
 
 do no harm. 
 
 Then Brother Chunk, of Pewterville, declared that 
 
 it was sad 
 To have to state that Jones had no idea the dog was 
 
 mad, 
 And that in circles where he moved 't was very freely 
 
 said 
 He 'd picked it up intending to come out one dog 
 
 ahead. 
 
 Then the next case reported in the doings of the day 
 Was that of Huckleberry Pod, a man in Iowa, 
 Who slopped into a raging flood to save a drowning 
 
 maid, 
 And did it like a beaver, as admiring neighbours said. 
 
 Then Brother Chunk again let down his fist with 
 
 startling bump, 
 And said he 'd found that Mr. Pod refused to make 
 
 the jump 
 
 Till offered fifty dollars by the people of the town, 
 And that then he wouldn't do it till he got the money 
 
 down
 
 THE PHILANTHROPIC CLUB. 103 
 
 Last of all we heard the instance of Golias Purple 
 
 Fife, 
 
 Who went into an awful well to save a fellow's life, 
 A man who always spoke of Fife as of a blooming 
 
 fool, 
 And who recently had done him blind in trading for 
 
 a mule ; 
 
 And on top of this, moreover, in addition, 'twas a 
 
 fact, 
 
 He refused a quarter-dollar for this noble manly act, 
 And when they asked him what he 'd drink, or if he'd 
 
 take a bite, 
 He jumped in silence on his mule and rode into the 
 
 night. 
 
 This case, in the opinion of the members of the club, 
 Was much the most deserving, and the nearest to the 
 
 hub; 
 And each allowed he 'd never heard the like in all 
 
 his life, 
 So, by general acclamation, they bestowed the prize 
 
 on Fife : 
 
 A silver-plated snuff-box, with a compass in the lid, 
 With the words, " If sold at auction always do as you 
 are bid,"
 
 104 THE PHILANTHROPIC CLUB. 
 
 Which we sent him in a hurry ere it might be under 
 stood 
 
 That this, too, was not an instance of the pure un- 
 mingled good. 
 
 And these are the proceedings of these noble-minded 
 
 seeds, 
 Who make it their profession to discover virtuous 
 
 deeds, 
 And every day turns out a lot, but still 't is on our 
 
 mind 
 That a case without a speck in it is very hard to find.
 
 THE COLOURED FORTUNE-HUNTER. 
 
 PETE JONSING went to 
 see the County Clerk 
 About a marriage license, 
 
 and the man 
 Said unto him for fun, 
 
 but seriously : 
 " I hope the bride pos 
 sesses fifty cents, 
 Because the Legislature's 
 
 passed a law 
 That any girl with less must not be wed." 
 " Jis' go ahead wid dat 'ar paper, Boss," 
 Peter replied ; then whispered, bending down : 
 "Bar's rumers and dey is reliable 
 Dat de young woman dat I'm goin' fur, 
 Has got two dollars and a quarter shoa. 
 And dat's de reason wy I marries her."
 
 PENN. 
 
 ON A TEXT BY ROBERT BURDETTE. 
 
 WHEN William Penn appeared before King Charles 
 To get the charter of his Promised Land 
 
 In Pennsylvania", 
 
 T was in his usual free-and-easy style, 
 With hands in pockets and his hat on side 
 
 Singing Lard-dardy day ! 
 
 Let us drink and be merry, laugh, sing, and rejoice, 
 With claret and sherry, theorbo and voice, 
 
 Merry-ton-ton-ton ta-lay !
 
 PENN. 107 
 
 King Charles at once removed his feathered tile. 
 " Keep on your hat, young man!" said William Penn, 
 
 " It is our Quaker way ; 
 And people will not know that you are bald ; 
 Be quite at home to make your guests at home 
 
 Singing Lard-dardy day ! 
 This changeable world to our joys is unjust, 
 All treasure 's uncertain, so down with your dust, 
 Merry-ton-ton-ton ta-lay /" 
 
 " It is the custom here," the King replied, 
 " For only one to cover at a time ; 
 
 This is the courtly way." 
 
 " Then you should have more covers," warbled Penn 
 " Warm people's heads to make them merry men 
 
 Singing Lard-dardy day ! 
 
 And in frolics dispose of your shillings and pence, 
 Since we all shall be past it a hundred years hence, 
 Merry-ton-ton ton ta-lay / 
 
 " T is a queer world, and faith ! I do not lay 
 My hat around, loose, in a domicile 
 
 Where I don't know the way, 
 Unless some party gives a check for it ; 
 I 've travelled some I have and can't be bit 
 
 Singing Lard-dardy day I
 
 io8 PENN. 
 
 Since, despite your invention, and learning, and 
 
 sense, 
 
 You '11 be non est inventus a hundred years hence, 
 Merry-ton-ton-ton ta-lay /" 
 
 " Odds-fish ! " exclaimed his Royal Majesty, 
 " He talks full well, but as it seems to me, 
 
 According to our way, 
 
 There 's a tremendous pig in this same Penn." 
 " Bravo, young man ! " said William ; " try again 
 
 Singing Lardy-dardy day/ 
 
 You have brought me a terrible one on the nob, 
 But I bear you no malice, not being a snob, 
 Merry-ton-ton-ton ta-lay t " 
 
 And thus it is that history is writ, 
 
 And thus it is good men are slandered sore 
 
 From ever till to-day. 
 Some writer pastes a joke ; it may remain 
 Safe in a corner from Time's wind and rain 
 
 Till Time has rolled away. 
 So, hurrah for King Charles ! and hurrah, too, for 
 
 Penn! 
 And all such and similar excellent men / 
 
 Merry-ton-ton-ton ta-lay /
 
 BALLAD OF THE FOXES. 
 
 THERE is a golden glory in my song 
 
 As of a picture by Carpaccio, 
 
 For it is of the early morning-time 
 
 When every man believed with tender faith 
 
 That animals could talk oh, lovely lore ! 
 
 So, ladyj listen as the lay runs on. 
 
 There was a goose, and she was travelling 
 Across the land for her dyspepsia, 
 And at the moontide sat to rest herself 
 In a small thicket, when there came along 
 Two starving foxes, perishing to find 
 Something which was not too-too-utter-ish 
 To serve for dinner. And as they were wild 
 For want of food, it was but natural 
 That they should likewise be confounded cross ; 
 Oh, lady, listen as the lay runs on ! 
 
 And as they halted near the thicket, one 
 Of them observed, " If you were half as sharp 
 As books make out, you would not now, I '11 bet, 
 Be ravenous enough to gnaw the grass."
 
 I io BALLAD OF THE FOXES. 
 
 " And if you were as big, or half as big, 
 As you believe you are," snarled Number 
 
 " You 'd be a lion of the largest size 
 Minus his roar, and pluck, and dignity." 
 Oh, listen, lady, as the lay runs on ! 
 
 " Please to observe I want no impudence 
 
 From any fifteen-nickel quadruped 
 
 Of your peculiar shape," sjiapped Number One. 
 " And if you give me but another note 
 
 Of your chin-music," snarled out Number Two, 
 " I '11 make a wreck of you, you wretched beast, 
 
 Beyond insurance bet your tail on that ! " 
 
 Oh, lady, listen as the lay runs on ! 
 
 " You are the champion snob of all the beasts ! " 
 " And you the upper scum of all the frauds." 
 "You are the weathercock of infamy." 
 " And you the lightning-rod of falsehood's spire." 
 " You are a thief! " " Ditto." " You lie." " I ain't." 
 " Shut up, you goy ! " And hearing this, the goose 
 
 Could bear no more, but walking from the bush, 
 
 Put on expression most benevolent, 
 
 And said, " Oh, gentlemen, for shame ! for shame ! 
 
 I '11 settle this dispute : in the first place 
 
 Let me remark, as an impartial friend - " 
 
 Oh, listen, lady, as the lay runs on !
 
 BALLAD OF THE FOXES. 
 
 But she did not remark, because they made 
 A rush at her and caught her by the throat, 
 And ate her up ; and as they picked their teeth 
 With toothpicks made of her last pin-feathers, 
 The first observed, and that quite affably, 
 " Only a goose would ever make attempt 
 To settle a dispute when foxes fight " 
 Oh, lady, listen as the lay runs on ! 
 
 " And while I have a very great respect 
 For any peacemaker," said Number Two, 
 
 ' I would suggest that I invariably 
 Have found, if they be really honest folk 
 Who interfere with reprobates like us, 
 They 're always eaten up ; there is, I think, 
 More clanship between devils any day 
 Than among all the angels. Interest 
 Binds us together, and howe'er we fight 
 Among ourselves to ease our bitter blood, 
 We do not hate each other half as much 
 As we do hate the good. Neighbours who fight 
 Can generally take most perfect care, 
 Not only of themselves, but of the goose 
 Who sticks her bill into the fuss they make. 
 This banquet now adjourns until it meets 
 Another winge'd angel of the sort 
 Which it has just discussed may it be soon ! " 
 Lady, this lyric runs no further on.
 
 EST MODUS IN REBUS. 
 
 A NARRATIVE OF NEW YORK. 
 
 I WOULD not say to man, " Don't spread yourself 
 To win the admiration of mankind," 
 Since he who never spreads can never shine, 
 And he who never shines is never seen, 
 And he who 's never seen is counted out 
 In the great game of life ; yet what is spread 
 Too thin entirely, when the sun shines out 
 Must soon dry up and be a fly-away. 
 
 There was a man who took his daily dine 
 
 At a delightful table (Thote, where he 
 
 Was waited on by an obedient youth, 
 
 Who, as a waiter, was a paragon 
 
 Of quick politeness. He 'd apologize 
 
 If the sun shone too much, or if it rained, 
 
 And say in simple faith that he would speak 
 
 To the proprietor and have it changed, 
 
 Then vanish like an elfin fly-away. 
 
 The daily boarder at this table d'hote 
 
 Was one who greatly loved to spread himself
 
 EST MODUS IN REBUS. 113 
 
 And play the imperial before the rest ; 
 
 And finding that the waiter cushioned it, 
 
 Sat down on him severely. Every time 
 
 He spoke he called him names, and said that he 
 
 Forthwith would punish him in cruel wise 
 
 Unless he tortled faster, or unless 
 
 The steak was better cooked. And then he 'd swear- 
 
 Oh, death and dandelions ! how he would swear ! 
 
 Till all the blood of all the boarders round 
 
 Was almost turned to cherry-water ice, 
 
 And each and all wished they could fly away. 
 
 And yet this waiter had a fund reserved 
 Of pretty stout pugnacity and pride, 
 And every time the boarder called him " fool," 
 Or " low-born rooster," he would add it up 
 To the preceding pile of expletives, 
 And think it over. He did not forget 
 A single word. Of all the abusatives 
 There was not one which proved a fly-away. 
 
 At last the crisis came, when one fine day, 
 For some imagined fault, the boarder said 
 Unto the waiter, that unless he stirred 
 A little quicker he would bung his eye, 
 And take him by the legs instanter-\y 
 And wipe the floor with him. But with that word 
 
 8
 
 114 EST MODUS IN REBUS. 
 
 He overdrew the account. That was the fly 
 Which overset the camel, and the drop 
 Which made the pail slop over. For the youth 
 On that let out his Injun. All at once 
 He turned both red and white, as fat and lean 
 Are seen in a beefsteak before 't is cooked, 
 And blew his soul out in a fly-away. 
 
 " You misspelled copy of a gentleman 
 With all the meaning lost ! if you dare call 
 Me names again as you have often done, 
 I '11 bung your pallid eyes. You've said too much, 
 So now just dwindle down. I 've always been 
 Obedient and polite, and served you well, 
 As you were never served by any one, 
 And all you ever gave me was abuse, 
 And all because you were a vulgar fool. 
 Now stop your noise, or I will sling you out 
 Of yonder window for a fly-away ! " 
 
 The boarder rose as if in roaring wrath, 
 The waiter jerked his linen jacket off 
 And fairly danced about in gipsy style, 
 Impatient for a fight. But then the guest 
 As if with self-command restrained himself, 
 And said to the assembled company, 
 " There must be lines in all society
 
 EST MODUS IN REBUS. 115 
 
 To regulate our conduct. Lines, I say, 
 Which separate us from the vulgar herd, 
 With whom we may not fight. I draw the line 
 At waiters." Here he looked about the room 
 To be applauded ; but the only sound 
 Which rose was that of a tremendous slap 
 On his own face, and then a mighty roar 
 Of laughter from the happy company, 
 For all his valour was a fly-away. 
 
 So he sat down too terrified to speak ; 
 And then the waiter took a dripping jug 
 Of ice-water and poured out every drop 
 Upon his head, yea, water, ice, and all, 
 And then that boarder burst in bitter tears, 
 And blubbered like a boy, while all the room 
 Rang with redoubled laughter. Then a guest 
 Proposed a vote of thanks to him who had 
 Put down a public nuisance, and the next 
 Passed round a hat and took collection up 
 To give the waiter as a small reward 
 For punishing a coward. Then he rose, 
 And since that hour has been a fly-away. 
 
 82
 
 THE MASHER. 
 
 The word to " mash," in the sense of causing love or attracting 
 by a glance or fascinating look, came into ordinary slang from 
 the American stage. Thus an actress was often fined for " mash 
 ing " or smiling at men in the audience. It was introduced by 
 the well-known gipsy family, C., among whom Romany was 
 habitually spoken. The word "masher " or " mash " means in 
 that tongue to allure, delude, or entice. It was doubtless much 
 aided in its popularity by its quasi identity with the English word. 
 A girl could be called a masher as she could be called a man- 
 killer, or killing. But there can be no doubt as to the gipsy 
 origin of " mash " as used on the stage. I am indebted for this 
 information to the late well-known impresario Palmer of New 
 York, and I made a note of it years before the term had become 
 at all popular. 
 
 IT was in the Indian summer-time, when life is tender 
 
 brown, 
 
 And people in the country talk of going into town, 
 When the nights are crisp and cooling, though the 
 
 sun is warm by day, 
 In the home-like town of Glasgow, in the State of 
 
 Iowa ;
 
 THE MASHER. 117 
 
 It was in the railroad deepo of that greatly favoured 
 
 zone, 
 That a young man met a stranger, who was still not 
 
 all unknown, 
 
 For they had run-countered casual in riding in the car, 
 And the latter to the previous had offered a cigar. 
 
 Now as the primal gentleman was nominated Gale, 
 It follows that the secondary man was Mister Dale ; 
 This is called poetic justice when arrangements fit in 
 
 time, . 
 And Fate allows the titles to accommodate in rhyme. 
 
 And a lovely sense of autumn seemed to warble in 
 
 the air ; 
 Boys with baskets selling peaches were vibratin' 
 
 everywhere, 
 While in the mellow distance folks were gettin' in 
 
 their corn, 
 And the biggest yellow punkins ever seen since you 
 
 were born. 
 
 Now a gradual sensation emotioned this our Gale, 
 That he 'd seldom seen so fine a man for cheek as 
 
 Mister Dale; 
 
 Yet simultaneous he felt that he was all the while 
 The biggest dude and cock-a-hoop within a hundred 
 
 mile.
 
 M S THE MASHER. 
 
 For the usual expression of his quite enormous eyes 
 Was that of two ripe gooseberries who 've been 
 
 decreed a prize ; 
 Like a goose apart from berries, too though not 
 
 removed from sauce 
 He conversed on lovely Woman as if he were all her 
 
 boss. 
 
 Till, in fact, he stated plainly that, between his face 
 
 and cash, 
 There was not a lady living whom he was not sure to 
 
 mash; 
 
 The wealthiest, the loveliest of families sublime, 
 At just a single look from him must all give in in 
 
 time. 
 
 Now when our Dale had got along so far upon the 
 strain, 
 
 They saw a Dream of Loveliness descending from 
 the train, 
 
 A proud and queenly beauty of a transcendental face, 
 
 With gloves unto her shoulders, and the most ex 
 pensive lace. 
 
 All Baltimore and New Orleans seemed centered 
 
 into one, 
 As if their stars of beauty had been fused into a sun ;
 
 THE MASHER. 119 
 
 But, oh ! her frosty dignity expressed a kind of glow 
 Like sunshine when thermometers show thirty grades 
 below. 
 
 But it flashed a gleam of shrewdness into the head 
 
 of Gale, 
 And with aggravatin' humour he exclaimed to Mr. 
 
 Dale, 
 " Since every girl 's a cricket-ball and you 're the only 
 
 bat, 
 If you want to show you 're champion, go in and 
 
 mash on that. 
 
 " I will bet a thousand dollars, and plank them on the 
 
 rub, 
 
 That if you try it thither, you will catch a lofty snub. 
 I don't mean but what a lady may reply to what you 
 
 say, 
 But I bet you cannot win her into wedding in a day." 
 
 A singular emotion enveloped Mr. Dale ; 
 
 One would say he seemed confuseled, for his coun 
 tenance was pale : 
 
 At first there came an angry look,, and when that look 
 did get, 
 
 He larft a wild and hollow larf, and said, " I take 
 the debt.
 
 120 THE MASHER. 
 
 " The brave deserve the lovely every woman may be 
 
 won ; 
 What men have fixed before us may by other men be 
 
 done. 
 You will lose your thousand dollars. For the first 
 
 time in my life 
 I have gazed upon a woman whom I wish to make 
 
 my wife." 
 
 Like a terrier at a rabbit, with his hat upon his eyes 
 Mr. Dale, the awful masher, went head-longing at the 
 
 prize, 
 Looking rather like a party simply bent to break the 
 
 peace. 
 Mr. Gale, with smiles, expected just a yell for the 
 
 police. 
 
 Oh ! what are women made of? Oh ! what can 
 
 women be? 
 From Eves to Jersey Lilies what bewildering sights 
 
 we see ! 
 
 One listened on the instant to all the Serpent said ; 
 The other paid attention right away to Floral Ned. 
 
 With a blow as with a hammer the intruder broke 
 
 the ice, 
 And the proud and queenly beauty seemed to think 
 
 it awful nice.
 
 THE MASHER. 121 
 
 Mr. Gale, as he beheld it, with a trembling heart 
 
 began 
 To realize he really was a most astonished man. 
 
 Shall I tell you how he wooed her ? shall I tell you 
 
 how he won? 
 How they had a hasty wedding ere the evening was 
 
 done ? 
 For when all things were considered, the fond couple 
 
 thought it best 
 Such things are not uncommon in the wild and rapid 
 
 West. - 
 
 Dale obtained the thousand dollars, and then 
 
 vanished with the dream. 
 Gale stayed in town with sorrow, like a spoon behind 
 
 the cream; 
 Till one morning in the paper he read, though not 
 
 in rhymes, 
 How a certain blooming couple had been married 
 
 fifty times ! 
 
 How they wandered o'er the country; how the 
 
 bridegroom used to bet 
 He would wed the girl that evening, how he always 
 
 pulled the debt ; 
 How his eyes were large and greensome; how, in 
 
 fact, to end the tale, 
 Their very latest victim was a fine young man named 
 
 Dale.
 
 ARIZONA JOHN. 
 
 WHEN in a situation it always pays the best 
 
 To have your wits about you, for it helps the interest; 
 
 And a man gets so encouraged by succeedin' when 
 
 he tries, 
 That the more you crowd him downward, the more 
 
 he 's bound to rise. 
 
 As when near Tres Alamos, while workin' at his 
 
 mine, 
 John Lyons, late of Tombstone, without the least 
 
 design 
 
 To involve himself whatever in any kind of tricks, 
 Got inside an unprovided and a most unpleasant fix. 
 
 John Lyons, late of Tombstone, had but just put in 
 
 a blast, 
 
 When he saw four buck Apaches approximatin' fast 
 Upon their headlong horses in a rackaloose career, 
 And every one preceded by a long projectin' spear:
 
 ARIZONA JOHN. 123 
 
 He had planted all the powder, and was just atop 
 
 the shaft, 
 While the foemen kept a-comin' like as they was tele- 
 
 grapht ; 
 
 To run was to be taken, and to stay was to be slew 
 And in such a situation how-whatever could he do? 
 
 Bein' quick upon the trigger Lyons did not stop to 
 
 choose, 
 For a match was in his fingers, so he lighted up the 
 
 fuse,- 
 And dropped behind a boulder for to disabuse their 
 
 aim, 
 When at him like a sheriffs writ full dig the Injuns 
 
 came. 
 
 He had timed the fuse so nicely that the Taches 
 
 reached the rock 
 
 Exactly at the nick of the explosionary shock : 
 Bang ! How the big rock busted as the powder gave 
 
 a flare ! 
 While a rain of stones and gravel went a-thunderin' 
 
 through the air. 
 
 It was four red Apaches who also had a rise, 
 And started for the hunting-grounds on horseback 
 thro' the skies ;
 
 124 ARIZONA JOHN. 
 
 Or as if they had the notion, but recalled it there 
 
 and then, 
 For they speedily descended as four non-existent men. 
 
 John Lyons, late of Tombstone, just down behind 
 
 his rock, 
 
 Escaped the influential effect of such a shock , 
 And examinin' the prospect, he very plainly sees 
 He has worked the blast quite perfect likewise 
 
 slammed his enemies. 
 
 When narratin' the adventure which I 've chanted in 
 
 my song, 
 If he terms them "blasted Injuns" no one calls his 
 
 language strong 
 For their hopes were surely blasted which they fondly 
 
 reckoned on, 
 And with patent giant-powder by this Arizona John.
 
 THE BALLAD OF CHARITY. 
 
 IT was in a pleasant deepo, sequestered from the 
 
 rain, 
 
 That many weary passengers were waitin' for the train , 
 Piles of quite expensive baggage, many a gorgeous 
 
 portmantd, 
 Ivory-handled umberellas made a most touristic 
 
 show. 
 
 Whereunto there came a person, very humble was 
 his mien, 
 
 Who took an observation of the interestin' scene ; 
 
 Closely scanned the umberellas, watched with joy 
 the mighty trunks, 
 
 And observed that all the people were securin' Pull 
 man bunks : 
 
 Who was followed shortly after by a most unhappy 
 
 tramp, 
 Upon whose features poverty had jounced her iron 
 
 stamp ;
 
 126 THE BALLAD OF CHARITY. 
 
 And to make a clear impression, as bees sting you 
 
 while they buzz, 
 She had hit him rather harder than she generally 
 
 does. 
 
 For he was so awful ragged, and in parts so awful 
 
 bare, 
 That the folks were quite repulsioned to behold him 
 
 begging there ; 
 And instead of drawing currency from out their 
 
 pocket-books, 
 They drew themselves asunder with aversionary looks. 
 
 Sternly gazed the first new-comer on the unindulgent 
 
 crowd, 
 Then in tones which pierced the deepo he sohli- 
 
 cussed aloud : 
 " I hev trevelled o'er this continent 'from Quebec to 
 
 Bogotaw, 
 But setch a set of scallawags as these I never saw. 
 
 " Ye are wealthy, ye are gifted, ye have house and 
 
 lands and rent, 
 
 Yet unto a sufFrin' mortal ye will not donate a cent; 
 Ye expend your missionaries to the heathen and the 
 
 Jew, 
 But there isn't any heathen that is half as small as 
 
 you.
 
 THE BALLAD OF CHARITY. 127 
 
 "Ye are lucky ye hev cheque-books and deeposits 
 
 in the bank, 
 And ye squanderate your money on the titled folks 
 
 of rank ; 
 The onyx and the sardonyx upon your garments 
 
 shine, 
 An' ye drink at every dinner p'r'aps a dollar's wuth 
 
 of wine. 
 
 " Ye are goin' for the summer to the islands by the 
 
 sea, 
 Where it costs four dollars daily setch is not for 
 
 setch as me ; 
 
 Iv'ry-handled umberellers do not come into my plan, 
 But I kin give a dollar to this suff'rin' fellow-man. 
 
 " Hand-bags made of Rooshy leather are not truly at 
 
 my call, 
 
 Yet in the eyes of Mussy' I am richer 'en you all, 
 For I kin give a dollar wher' you dare not stand 
 
 a dime, 
 And never miss it nother, nor regret it ary time." 
 
 Sayin' this he drew a wallet from the inner of his 
 
 vest, 
 And gave the tramp a daddy, which it was his level 
 
 best ;
 
 128 THE BALLAD OF CHARITY. 
 
 Other people havin' heard him soon to charity in 
 clined 
 
 One giver soon makes twenty if you only get their 
 wind. 
 
 The first who gave the dollar led the other one about, 
 And at every contribution he a-raised a joyful shout, 
 Exclaimin' how 't was noble to relieviate distress, 
 And remarkin' that our duty is our present happi 
 ness. 
 
 Thirty dollars altogether were collected by the 
 
 tramp, 
 When he bid 'em all good evenin' and went out into 
 
 the damp, 
 And was followed briefly after by the one who made 
 
 the speech, 
 And who showed by good example how to practise 
 
 as to preach. 
 
 Which soon around the corner the couple quickly 
 
 met, 
 And the tramp produced the specie for to liquidate 
 
 his debt ; 
 And the man who did the preachin' took his twenty 
 
 of the sum, 
 Which you see that out of thirty left a tenner for 
 
 the bum.
 
 THE BALLAD OF CHARITY, 
 
 129 
 
 And the couple passed the summer at Bar Harbour 
 
 with the rest, 
 Suckin' juleps, playin' poker, and most elegantly 
 
 dressed ; 
 Suckin' juleps, playin' poker, layin' round in love 
 
 and rum 
 Oh, how hard is life for many ! oh, how sweet it is 
 
 for some !
 
 MULTUM IN PARVO. 
 
 "GREAT thoughts are oft expressed in fewest words," 
 
 And I remember how long years ago, 
 
 When a great lady in her diary 
 
 Of a short visit to the Scottish land, 
 
 Recorded of a sorrowful event. 
 
 " To-day poor little Vicky, by mischance, 
 
 Sat on a wasp's nest." All the newspapers 
 
 Declared it was a perfect masterpiece 
 
 Of excellent consciousness. Yet I think 
 
 It was outdone by a Red Indian 
 
 One of the Quoddy tribe who did the same ; 
 
 Since he, like "little Vicky," also sat 
 
 Upon a seat as hot ; and when he rose, 
 
 Briefly exclaimed in his vernacular : 
 
 " H'lam-kikqu'!" and being asked what this 
 
 Might mean, responded in the English tongue 
 
 "Heap hell! " Oh ! reader, if the soul of wit 
 
 Be brevity, this Indian was there.
 
 BRElTMANirS LAST BALLADS
 
 BREITMANN IN TURKEY. 
 
 DER BREITMANN hear im Turkenreich 
 
 Vas fighten high und low, 
 " Steh auf, oh Schwackenhammer mein ! 
 
 It 's dime for us to go. 
 Zieh dein Kanonenstiefel an, 
 
 Und schleife Dir das Schwert, 
 Schon lang her han mer nichts gethan, 
 
 Der Weg ist reitenswerth."* 
 
 " Oopon vitch side ? I hartly know 
 
 Boot von side in dis war : 
 Dere ist de holy Russ-land 
 
 All mit a holy Tsar ; 
 But I pe not a holy-er, 
 
 Nor you von Saint, I fear ; 
 Our line is holy ploonder, 
 
 Mit sacred Lager-bier. 
 
 Pull on your boots so rough and tough, 
 And whet your sword beside, 
 
 We have been lazy long enough, 
 The road is worth the ride.
 
 134 BREITMANN IN TURKEY. 
 
 " Dere 5 s von Constantinoble-man 
 
 Vot write to me, und say 
 He kits me an commission 
 
 To make me Breitmann Bey, 
 Und if I mounts de turpan 
 
 Und keeps de Muslin law, 
 Und bribes ein wenig, den I rise 
 
 To Breitemann Pasha. 
 
 " Dis much is drue, dat Toorkey is 
 
 A real Powder land, 
 Und if dey 're goin' to touch it off, 
 
 Vy, ve moost pe on hand. 
 Und if ve shpring into de airs 
 
 Vhile meddlin' in de fuss, 
 I rader dink some Russian bears 
 
 Vill shpring along mit us." 
 
 Und ven he kit to Turkreich 
 
 Der Breitmann work like mad, 
 Und kit ein corps togeder, 
 
 Mein Gott ! vat men he had ! 
 Mit Polers und mit Shipsies, 
 
 Ungaren, Turks, und such, 
 Und allerlei Gesindel. " Hei ! " 
 
 Says Hans : " dis beats de Dutch ! "
 
 BREITMANN IN TURKEY. 135 
 
 Den onwards to his Schicksal * 
 
 Und forvarts troo de night, 
 Und oopwarts to his mission, 
 
 Und downvarts in de vight 
 Until in de Bulgaren 
 
 Von night his horse he strode, 
 Und meet a tausand Kossacks 
 
 Pefore him on de road. 
 
 Slap forward rode der Breitmann 
 
 Right on de Kossack spears, 
 But forvarts coom deir leader 
 
 And halted his careers, 
 Und gry, " O Turkisch Ritter, 
 
 I am de Capitdn, 
 And if you want a shindy, 
 
 Step up, and I 'm your man." 
 
 Dey fightet like der teufel, 
 
 Dey fightet mit deir swords, 
 Und Breitmann vould hafe kilt him, 
 
 But 't was not on de cards, 
 For de Kossack fire a bistol 
 
 As his retreadt pegan, 
 Down from his horse all senseless 
 
 Flop ! went der Breitemann. 
 
 * Schicksal, Destiny.
 
 136 BREITMANN IN TURKEY. 
 
 Vhen he hafe kit his senses, 
 
 Der Breitmann find he lay 
 Insite a nople castell, 
 
 Upon a canape ; 
 Und py his side a lady 
 
 So wunderschon to see, 
 Vas shlisin oop a lemon 
 
 Indo a cop of thde. 
 
 Den to himself say Breitmann, 
 
 Aldough he hold his jaw, . 
 " Dis is de vinest wo mans, 
 
 Py Gott ! I efer saw. 
 Vot lofeliness ! vot muscle ! 
 
 Mit efery himmlisch charm ! 
 She measures twenty inches, 
 
 Bei Domier ! roundt de arm." 
 
 De lady see his glances 
 
 So noble und so game, 
 Und yust as he reflected 
 
 She dink of him de same, 
 Und she say, " Wie gehts ? " in English, 
 " Du galiant cavalier, 
 Who art pecome de captive 
 
 All of my bow und spear.
 
 BREITMANN IN TURKEY. 137 
 
 " I am a gal dis mornin', 
 
 Yestreen I vas a knight, 
 Old boss you nearly smashed me, 
 
 I guess, in that small fight ; 
 And if I hadn't shot you 
 
 I think I should have ran." 
 " Gottshimmel mit Potzbomben ! " 
 Egsclaim der Breitemann. 
 
 " But say, O nople lady, 
 
 Vot got you in dat set 
 Of plackgards vilt dou dell me ? " 
 
 De dame rebly : " You bet ! 
 My father came from Boston, 
 
 And when this war began 
 He got a splendid contract, 
 
 All with the Russi-dn, 
 
 "To sell the army shoe-pegs; 
 
 But I have read of fights, 
 And I dream of war and glory, 
 
 For I go for women's rights; 
 Then I read a book of poems 
 
 Which fairly turned my head, 
 The ballads of Hans Breitmann " 
 
 Oh ho / " Hans Breitmann said.
 
 I 3 8 BREITMANN IN TURKEY. 
 
 11 And as I think the Breitmann 
 
 Must be the greatest man 
 Who ever went a-fighting 
 
 Since History began, 
 I dressed me like a soldier, 
 
 For I am stark of limb ; 
 With Breitmann for a model, 
 
 And try to act like him. 
 
 " Oh, tell me, noble captive, 
 
 While rolling in this storm 
 Which men call life, hast ever 
 
 Beheld Hans Breitmann's form ? 
 Oh, could I once embrace him, 
 
 And gaze into his eye, 
 And feel his arms around me, 
 
 Then I would gladly die. 
 
 " He is the man of mortals, 
 
 The Odin of them all, 
 A higher Incarnation, 
 
 The 'Menschheitsideal] * 
 A being made to worship, 
 
 To me an earthly Gott " 
 
 ' Py shings ! " exglaim Hans Breitmann, 
 " Dis ding is gettin hot ! 
 
 * Menschheitsid&il, Human Ideal.
 
 BREITMANN IN TURKEY. 139 
 
 " O laity ! nople gountess ! 
 
 Dis man of whom you dink 
 Ish lyin' here pefore you, 
 
 Half tead for want of trink, 
 Likewise for lofe of you, too, 
 
 Done up mit lofe and durst, 
 Und mit de two togeder, 
 
 I don't know vitch is vorst. 
 
 " And dou canst safe dy hero 
 
 From bitter Todespein, 
 If dou hast in de Keller 
 
 Only one Pass of wein. 
 Nay, doubt not in my pocket 
 
 Is dat vitch brofes de man, 
 My bassbort, und drei tavern bills 
 
 Against der Breitemann." 
 
 De laity she emprace him 
 
 Oontil he nearly bust. 
 " Potz-blitz ! " gasp out der Breitmann 
 " She is a squeezer yust!" 
 
 De dame she vas vealty, 
 Likewise an orphan too, 
 
 Mit a gastel und a titel, 
 So Breitmann put it troo.
 
 140 
 
 BREITMANN IN TURKEY. 
 
 So soon the paar vere marrit, 
 
 Hei ! vot a dimes dey had ! 
 Hei ! how dey life togeder 
 
 So clorious und clad ! 
 Now he has cot a titel 
 
 Dat was a Capitan ; 
 Hier hat de tale ein Ende 
 
 Of Herr Count Breitemann.
 
 COBUS HAGELSTEIN. 
 
 ICH bin ein Deutscher, und mein name is Cobus 
 
 Hagelstein,* 
 
 I coom from Cincinnati, and I life peyond der Rhein; 
 Und I dells you all a shdory dot makes me mad ash 
 
 blitz, 
 Pout how a Yangee gompany vas shvindle me to fits. 
 
 I heardt apout dis gompany, und vished to see dot 
 same, 
 
 * A little stream in Cincinnati, beyond which lies the German 
 quarter, is known as the Rhine.
 
 142 COS US HAGELSTE1N. 
 
 Das Lebensfeuerversicherunggesellschaft vos ids 
 
 name; 
 
 Dot is de name in Sherman in English it will say 
 Dot it insures your life mit fire, ven you de money 
 
 pay. 
 
 Now, I hod a liddle house-line vhere I life so shtill 
 
 ash mice, 
 Und yoost drei tausand dollar vos dot little pilding's 
 
 brice ; 
 
 I vos always yoost so happy ash ein Kaisar in de land 
 Dill at last I kit in drople, for mein haus vos abge- 
 
 brannt. 
 
 Den I goes undo dot gompany und dells em right 
 
 afay 
 
 (Das Lebensfeuerversicherunggesellschaft), und I say, 
 " At last de youngest day ist coom for you to plank de 
 
 cash, 
 And you moost bay me monies, for mine haus is 
 
 purned to ash." 
 
 Den de segredary answered, " All dis is fery drue, 
 Boot you know ve have de option to pild your house 
 
 anew; 
 
 Dere ist a lot of beoples vot burns deir hauser doun, 
 Den coom to kit de money pack all over in de toun."
 
 COB US HAGELSTEIN. 143 
 
 I look indo 3e bapers und I find it ash he say, 
 Das Lebensfeuerversicherunggesellschaft need not 
 
 bay; 
 
 So I dells em all to go ahet und pild anoder shdore, 
 Und dey make me von in Yangee shdyle more 
 
 petter ash pefore. 
 
 Den I met der segredary dereafter on a day, 
 
 Of Das Lebensfeuerversicherunggesellschaft, und he 
 
 say, 
 "You've found oos vellers honoraple und honest in 
 
 our line, 
 Vy tont you go insure de life of Madame Hagel- 
 
 stein ? " 
 
 I poots mine dum oopon mine nose, and vinks him 
 
 mit mine eye, 
 
 Und says I cooms to do it ven de oce'an runs dry, 
 Ven gooses turn to ganders, und de bigs kits shanged 
 
 to shvine ; 
 Oh, den I makes insure de life of Madame Hagel- 
 
 stein. 
 
 'I haf dried you on insurance, ash you know, yust 
 
 vonce pefore, 
 
 Und ven mein haus vas abgebrannt you pild anoder 
 shdore ;
 
 144 CO BUS HAGELSTEIN. 
 
 Id 's drue you pild it goot enough, boot I dell you 
 
 allaweil, 
 I vas liket id moosh petter if it vas in Sharman 
 
 shdyle. 
 
 " Now, if I goes insure my wife anoder dime mit you, 
 Das Lebensfeuerversicherung, I knows vot it would 
 
 do, 
 If from dis vorldt Frau Hagelstein should rise to 
 
 Himmel life, 
 Inshtead of paying gelt you 'd kit for me a Yangee 
 
 vife ! " 
 
 I poots mine dum pelow mine eye, und vinks him 
 
 merrily, 
 Und say, " Go find soom Deutscherman dot is more 
 
 creen ash me. 
 Dere's blendy of dem creen enough, I know, peyond 
 
 der Rhein, 
 But none among dem wears de name of Cobus 
 
 Hagelstein."
 
 FRITZERL SCHNALL. 
 
 ASH 'on de Alapama biz, 
 
 Deep sinnin long I sat, 
 I dinks von ding for dinkin 
 
 Py afery Diplomat ; 
 Und dat ist : dat voll many a ding 
 
 Vot ist de facto done, 
 May pe dejure unbossible, 
 
 Und officiel unknown. 
 
 Von dimes in San Franciscus, 
 
 Im Californian land, 
 Among de Californaments 
 
 Dere woned a Deutscher band ; 
 Und shief among dese heroes 
 
 Dere shone Herr Fritzerl Schnall, 
 Who nefer vouldt pelief in nichts 
 
 Dat vos not logical. 
 
 10
 
 146 FRITZERL SCHNALL. 
 
 Veil den : von tay, as Fritzerl 
 
 Vas valk Dolores Shtreet, 
 Mein Gott ! how he vas over-rush 
 
 Ein gut oldt friendt to meet ; 
 Hans Liederschnitz aus Augsburg, 
 
 Vot professed in Bayrisch bier 
 " Gottskreuz ! du alter Schlingel ! " 
 
 Cried Fritz : " Was mochst du hier ? 
 
 Now in des dimes I scribe of, 
 
 Dree ways der vere bekannt, 
 Und only dree, to get to 
 
 Das Californigen Landt. 
 De virst de Plains coom ofer ; 
 
 De next, de Istmoos troo ; 
 De dird aroundt Cape Home", 
 
 All ofer de ocean plue. 
 
 But de first lot of surveyors 
 
 For de railroad overland, 
 Vas seek a new vay northwarts, 
 
 All for de Eisenbahn 
 Und mit dem, der professor 
 
 Of Lager vent along ; 
 So he kommed to San Franciscus, 
 
 Und den into dis sonsr.
 
 FRITZ ERL SCHNALL. 147 
 
 But ash unto Herr Fritzerl 
 
 Dis news vas unerheard, 
 He couldt not know de tidings 
 
 Wherevon he had no vord ; 
 Und derefore dis here quesdion 
 
 He makes to Hans : " Old hoss, 
 I kess de vay you kit hier, 
 
 You kommed de Blains agross ? " 
 
 " Nein, nein," sayt Liederschnitzerl ; 
 
 "I'komm not ash you say." 
 " Veil, den," antworded Fritzerl, 
 " It pe's anoder vay. 
 If you komm de Blains not iiber, 
 
 I see vot yo*u hafe do : 
 You make an longer um-way 
 Und gross de Istmoos troo." 
 
 " Nein, nein," acain saidt Schnitzerl, 
 " Dat road I nefer know, 
 Und vas not ride de Istmoose ! " 
 
 Cried Fritz, erstaunisched, " SO 
 You komm de Blains not iiber, 
 Nor gross de Istmoose troo ? 
 Veil, den to make de Horn aroundt 
 Vas all dat you could do ! "
 
 148 FR1TZERL SCHNALL. 
 
 " I shvears py Gott ! " says Schnitzerl, 
 " So sure as you vas porn, 
 Exshept oopon some ochsen 
 
 I nefer saw a horn. 
 Dat ish ruitwiles, too while-en 
 
 I hafe von in mine hand, 
 Und trink to dy Gesundheit, 
 Im lieben Vaterland." 
 
 Erstaunished stoot der Fritzerl : 
 No wort herout brought he : 
 
 Und sinned, und sinned den sighftserd, 
 " Potz blitz! how vash dis pe ? " 
 
 Ontill a light from Himmel 
 Vlash down into him shtraight, 
 
 Ash Heafen in Yacob Bohme 
 Vlash from a bewter blate. 
 
 Den laut he cry, eye-shbarklin, 
 Ash droonk mit Truth define, 
 
 Like der Wahrheitseher N oval is : 
 " Herr Gott ! es leuch't mir ein ! 
 
 If you komm de Blains not over, 
 Nor py Horn, nor py canal, 
 
 Den I shwears you dis, Hans Schnitzerl, 
 Du bist not here at all!"
 
 FRITZERL SCHNALL. 
 
 149 
 
 MORAL. Go in for Wahrheit, 
 
 Und for Pure Reason seek ; 
 If it land you in a pog-hole, 
 
 Den die dere like a brick ! 
 Gott brosber all logikers, 
 
 Und pless deir nople breed ; 
 Und so ist komm zu ende 
 
 Dis Breitmanns letzte Lied.
 
 "HOOD'S 
 
 COMIC 
 
 ANNUAL" 
 
 FOR 1886, 
 
 WILL CONTAIN 
 
 One Hundred and Twelve Pages 
 
 OF 
 
 HUMOROUS ART & LITERATURE. 
 
 Comic Stories by the following Authors will form fart 
 of this Marvellous Shillingsworth : 
 
 G. R. SIMS, FRANK BARRETT, GEO. MANVILLE FENN, 
 
 CHAS. G. LELAND, C. J. DUNPHIE, J. W. HOUGHTON, 
 A. T. PASK, H. C. NEWTON, GODFREY TURNER, A. DOWTY* 
 
 GEORGE DALZIEL, LAUNCE LEE, ERNEST WARREN, 
 CHARLES S. CHELTNAM, H. G. SOMERVILLE, H. SESSIONS, 
 
 H. T. JOHNSON, JOHN NORMAN, H. M. PAUL, 
 BYRON WEBBER, Cis BROOKES, ASHBY STERRY, M. BUTLER, 
 
 C. H. WARING, KATE BURTON, JOHN LATEY, Jun., 
 J. F. SULLIVAN, AND THE LATE EVELYN JERROLD. 
 
 The Illustrations will be by 
 
 GORDON THOMSON, J. F. SULLIVAN, J. W. HOUGHTON 
 
 HAL LUDLOW, ERNEST GRISET, H. SANDERCOCK, F. A. FRASER, 
 
 PHIL EBBUTT, MATT. STRETCH, H. TUCK, G. GATCOMBE, 
 
 H. J. DRAPER, E. G. DALZIEL, AND W. G. BAXTER.
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY 
 
 Los Angeles 
 This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. 
 
 Form L9-40m-7,'56(C790s4)444
 
 L.ES_ 
 
 Leland - 
 
 22U2 
 
 Brand-new 
 ballads 
 
 TOCOY Nfflv 5 .^- 
 
 PS 
 
 22U2 
 
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