UC-NRLF 
 


THE SONG OF MILKANWATHA. 
 
THE 
 
 SONG OF MILKANWATHA: 
 
 TRANSLATED FKOM 
 
 THE ORIGINAL FEEJEE. 
 
 BY 
 
 MARC ANTONY HENDERSON, D.C.L., 
 
 fBOFKSSOB OF THE FEEJEE LANGUAGE AND LITERATURE IN THE 
 BRANDY WINE FEMALE ACADEMY. 
 
 "There were who spiritual legends feigned, 
 Half lofty, half profound, not nigh half true." 
 
 PQIUP JAMES BAILEY. 
 
 S E fc tf rf i>" E T)-l T I S 1 .- 
 
 CINCINNATI: 
 
 TICKELL & GRINNE. 
 
 1856. 
 
"He, of a damsel, -with fellow-maidens sporting, 
 
 In vital brilliance dropping through the star-gate 
 
 Of the high luminous land, "was born ; 
 
 And lifting into life his facial flower, 
 
 Throughout the vast passivity he passed, 
 
 All active ; scaling on foot the mount, 
 
 That he his starry ancestry might hail, 
 
 There converse held, with all the eloquent orbs ; 
 
 Adown a foamy torrent, in a skiff, 
 
 Dimpling the wave, he sped ; great the show 
 
 Of lawny- weepers, lifted to dim eyes ; 
 
 He fainted, asked the watery powers, and at last, 
 
 With eyne by spirit-fire purged, discerned 
 
 How sweet was truth, for death in truth was life. 
 
 Initiate, mystic, perfected, epopt, 
 
 Illuminate, adept, transcendent, he 
 
 Ivy-like lived, and died, and again lived, 
 
 Resuscitant god of psycho-pompous function." 
 
 .* *. .*" Infc *!j7jmg." Philip Janus Bailey. 
 
TRANSLATOR S PREPACK. 
 
 A WORD or two with reference to the following 
 POEM, which is now for the first time presented to 
 the civilized world. 
 
 That, in many of its parts, there is a strong corre 
 spondence between it and Mr. LONGFELLOW S last great 
 work, " The Song of Hiawatha," is too apparent to 
 be overlooked. But so far from basing upon this 
 similarity of incident and treatment, a charge of lite 
 rary piracy against Mr. LONGFELLOW, as has been done 
 by some who have discovered a much fainter likeness 
 to a poem of Scandinavian origin the translator re 
 cognizes in it only another evidence of that unity of 
 thought which characterizes the human species, and 
 which is a natural consequence of the unity of the 
 races, of which the great family of man is composed. 
 
 : 1325 
 
vi TRANSLATOR S PREFACE. 
 
 How far the "Song of Hiawatha," may be justly 
 deemed an imitation, however, in outline, incident, or 
 versification, of the Scandinavian or of the poern 
 from the Feejee, here presented to our readers it is 
 for them, and not for the translator, to decide ; but it 
 is believed that a careful comparison, one with an 
 other, will disclose many curious resemblances in form 
 and feature, which may be thought worthy the attention 
 of men of letters. 
 
 It is hardly necessary to add that, so far as he was able 
 to appreciate the spirit of the Poem, the translator has 
 endeavored faithfully to retain it. 
 
 The liberties which he has taken have been verbal 
 only, and such as are unavoidable in transplanting the 
 ideas and emotions of a people from their own language 
 to another. 
 
 For example, " Polli-wog-in " has been translated 
 farmers, although the use of the word may seem a 
 strange one to those into whose conception of the Feejee 
 character, the idea of iiidustry has never entered. 
 
 The reason, however, is obvious since our estimates 
 of things are always relative, and he who keeps a pig or 
 grows a square yard of potatoes among a people dis- 
 
TRANSLATOR S PREFACE. vii 
 
 tinctively savage, judged by their standard of labor, is as 
 emphatically a farmer, as the man who plows, in 
 America, his hundred acres, and whose cattle graze 
 upon a thousand hills. 
 
 Several words and forms of expression which in our 
 language have become obsolete, such as her n, his n, 
 ouch, not never, not for no one, didn t nothing, a- 
 rolling, a-sitting, etc., are retained because of their strik 
 ing analogy to words and expressions representing the 
 same ideas in the Feejee tongue. 
 
 The word that designates the Water treatment which 
 we call Hydropathy, is so rendered from the original, 
 " Sit-an -shiver." 
 
 If the objection be made to the scenes and char 
 acters as represented in the translation, that they indi 
 cate so advanced a stage of social progress as to sug 
 gest the probability of their having caught an uncon 
 scious coloring from the fancy of the translator, it 
 may be fairly met with the presumption that a closer 
 familiarity with the manners and mode of life of the 
 Feejees, on the part of the reader, would show the 
 invalidity of such objections. 
 
 To give an impulse to investigation in this direction 
 
viii TRANSLATOR S PREFACE. 
 
 is the translator s only motive in publication, and his 
 earnest hope is that this simple Poem may serve to 
 interest the Christian World in the people among 
 whom it is still preserved, and in whose midst he 
 has spent several memorable years. 
 CLOVER DELL, Feb. 1856. 
 
ARGUMENT. 
 
 THE Birth and Childhood of the Hero. His Youth. 
 He forms the acquaintance of two singular individuals. 
 Goes Courting, and is married. His two friends swept 
 away by the Watta-puddel, or Bushing River, to the 
 land of Ponee-rag-bag, situated farther downward. His 
 wife is seized with chills and fever, and, being sup 
 posed dead, is thrown into the River, but revived by 
 the sudden shock of the water, is borne in safety to 
 Ponee-rag-bag. The hero, in a fit of temporary in 
 sanity, follows her in his skiff. Reaching Ponee-rag- 
 bag, he finds not only his wife, but his friends also, 
 awaiting him. Their strange preservation suggests the 
 Water treatment in disease, and returning with them he 
 becomes the founder of the Hydropathic System. 
 
 The scene is laid in the Island of Chaw-a-man-up, one of the Feejee 
 Group. 
 
 1* 
 
THE SONG OF MILKANWATHA. 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 IF an individual person^-, > < 
 
 > A .-> 7 ** n % > J * -i -> o 
 
 Say John Smith,* or John Smith s uncle, 
 Or some other friend of his n, 
 Should propound to me the question, 
 "Whence derived } T OU these traditions 
 "Which you are about to tell us, 
 "With their incidents peculiar ; 
 These strange legends so mysterious, 
 With the smell of trees and flowers, 
 With the sound of brooks and breezes, 
 With the roaring of the thunder, 
 
 * The name John Smith, which occurs several times in the following 
 introduction, has been employed because, by conventional use, it has come 
 to express the idea of man in the concrete. 
 
12 THE SONG OF MILKANWATHA. 
 
 And the very wild beasts, also, 
 Ever sounding, never ceasing, 
 Going when you think it s stopping, 
 Going as a woman s tongue goes, 
 As a lively woman s tongue goes ; 
 
 I would speak up, I would .tell him. 
 " From tne i?egioizs".far be.yb.rrd here, 
 From.tbe imjgiifey Vi l&ernfes&es ; 
 Where the Ninkumpoops inhabit, 
 Where the Noodles pitch their wigwams, 
 From the hill-tops bare and breezy, 
 From the valleys soft and mushy, 
 From the marshes and the duck-ponds, 
 Where the melancholy bull-frog, 
 Brek-e-kex-co-ax, the bull-frog, 
 Sitteth in the slimy waters : 
 
 " As I heard them, so I tell them, 
 Literatim et verbatim, 
 Just exactly as I heard them 
 From the mouth of Rumpalumpkin, 
 Him as played upon the bagpipes, 
 
INTRODUCTION. 13 
 
 Played and sang between the blowings." 
 
 And if John Smith, or his uncle, 
 Or some other friend of his n, 
 Should inquire where Kumpalumpkin 
 Came across these strange traditions ; 
 
 I would speak up, I would tell him, 
 u In the trees where climb the squirrels, 
 In the holes where crouch the wcodchucks, 
 In the cracks the spiders hide in, 
 In the hornets nests he found them ; 
 
 "All or nearly all the wildfowl 
 Sang them, shrieked them, in the marshes, 
 In the marshes by the duck-ponds ; 
 Pee-nee-wig the turkey-buzzard, 
 And the gray-goose Dab-si-dido; 
 Quag the duck, the snipe Lum-bago, 
 And the long-legged, bush-necked partridge, 
 Rigdam-bol-le-meta-kimo. 
 
 And if John Smith, or his uncle, 
 Or some other friend of his n, 
 Asked me, Who is Eumpalumpkin ? 
 
14 THE SONG OF MILKANWATHA. 
 
 Tell us more of Kumpalumpkin ; 
 I should speak up very quickly, 
 And reply to him in this way : 
 
 " In the valley of Mus-tug-gin, 
 That extremely verdant valley, 
 "Where, in summer, green the trees were, 
 Bare and leafless in the winter ; 
 Where the streams flowed in the Summer, 
 But in Winter time were frozen ; 
 In this very verdant valley, 
 Lighted by the sparkling waters, 
 By the forest branches shaded, 
 Lived the man as played the bagpipes, 
 Played and sang between the blowings 
 Lived the minstrel Rumpalumpkin." 
 
 Ye who like this sort of legend, 
 Like it well enough to listen, 
 Like the way the thing is done in, 
 Like a story so unmeaning, 
 That, to save your life, you cannot 
 See nor head nor tail uu-to it, 
 
INTRODUCTION. 15 
 
 Tell the end from the beginning 
 Listen to this wondrous story, 
 To this Song of Milkanwatha. 
 
 Ye who will not writhe nor wriggle 
 While I tell this story to you, 
 Will not look and act uneasy, 
 But will give your whole attention, 
 Without gaping, stretching, yawning, 
 While I tell this story to you ; 
 Listen now, for I will tell it, 
 Tell it truly, as I told you, 
 As I told you I would tell it, 
 On condition, you remember, 
 That you would not writhe nor wriggle, 
 But would give your whole attention 
 Without gaping, stretching, yawning, 
 While I tell this story to you ; 
 Listen now all ye, I pray you, 
 Hear this Song of Milkanwatha. 
 
16 
 
 I. 
 
 MILKANWATHA S CHILDHOOD. 
 
 LONG ago, in days that are not, 
 In the times that no one knows of, 
 Right head-foremost thro the evening 
 From the shining planet Venus, 
 Swiftly down came Kimo-kairo, 
 Came the long haired Kimo-kairo, 
 Married, but without no children. 
 
 She was climbing up a pin m- tree, 
 Plum-tree in the planet Yenus, 
 Climbing with some other women, 
 When, alas, the branch she stood on 
 Cracked and snapped, because t was rotten, 
 Cracked and snapped off quite completely. 
 
IT 
 
 And head-foremost thro the evening, 
 
 Fell the long haired Kimo-kairo, 
 
 Fell the shrieking Kimo-kairo, 
 
 Fell the long-haired, shrieking Kimo, 
 
 Down to Plow-e-tup the cornfield, 
 
 In the cornfield soft and mushy. 
 
 u Look ! a rocket !" said the farmers, 
 
 " Some one must have fired a rocket, 
 
 Cause that was the stick that come down." 
 
 Midst the chickweed and the clover, 
 Lying on some last year s huskings, 
 In the Plow-e-tup, the cornfield, 
 Kimo-kairo had a son born, 
 And she called him Milkanwatha, 
 Him as is our story s hero, 
 The real, genuine Milkanwatha. 
 
 But alas for Kimo-kairo ! 
 And alas for Milkanwatha ! 
 She, the mother, was so injured 
 Falling from the planet Yenus, 
 Plum-tree in tho planet Yenus, 
 
18 THE SONG OF MILKANWATHA. 
 
 And the Plow-e-tup the cornfield 
 Was so very cool and open, 
 Such a breezy place to lie in, 
 That, to save her life, she could not 
 Keep from dying while she lay there, 
 Lay upon the last year s huskings ; 
 So she died, poor Kimo-kairo, 
 And beside her, Milkanwatha 
 Rolled and cried, unhappy baby, 
 Wond ring why she did n t nurse him , 
 Thinking her alive as usual. 
 
 There they both were found, next morning, 
 By the ancient nurse Marcosset ; 
 Her whom all the neighbors honored 
 For her skill in nursing sick-folks, 
 Chiefly, through the chills and fever : 
 There she found sweet Kimo-kairo 
 Lying dead upon the huskings ; 
 And not far off found our hero, 
 Very wide awake and kicking. 
 
 On the banks of Watta-puddel 
 
19 
 
 Rushing river, Watta-puddel 
 Stood the ancient nurse s wigwam, 
 Stood the wigwam of Marcosset : 
 Back behind it dark the woods were, 
 Dark as pitch the woods behind it ; 
 Swift before it rolled the river, 
 Rolled its torrent ever onward, 
 Through the long and dismal forests, 
 Through the mountains and the valleys, 
 In the sunlight and the moonlight, 
 Toward the unknown Ponee-rag-bag, 
 Toward the regions farther downward. 
 
 Here Marcosset, ancient female, 
 Nursed the baby Milkanwatha ; 
 Gave him porridge, gave him catnip, 
 Gave him pap and water-gruel ; 
 When he fretted, quickly hushed him, 
 
 Saying, " Wild-cat, scratch his eyes ont. : 
 Saying, " Bulldog, bite his toes off;" 
 Put him fast asleep by humming, 
 " Hitta-ka-dink, my duck, my darling, 
 
20 THE SONG OF MILKANWATHA. 
 
 Who s this with the funny snub-nose, 
 Snub-nose, so uncommon snubby ? 
 Hitta-ka-dink, my duck, my darling." 
 
 Here he, day by day, grew older, 
 Sat alone upon the door-step, 
 Heard the summer breezes moaning, 
 Heard the waters ever plashing, 
 Sounds unusual and peculiar ; 
 " Tizzarizzen," sighed the breezes 
 Splosh-ka-swosh-ky," plashed the river. 
 
 Here he saw the Melee- wee-git, 
 
 
 
 Lightning-bug, the Melee- wee-git, 
 Saw the Feesh-go-bang, musquito, 
 Saw Snappo, the pinching-beetle, 
 Saw the dragon-fly, Snap-peter, 
 And the flea, too, Sticka-ta-wa-in. 
 Saw above him, in the heavens, 
 The Aurora red and glowing 
 Wondered what it was that did it 
 Said, "What is that there, Marcosset?" 
 And Marcosset up and answered, 
 
MILKANWATHA S CHILDHOOD. 21 
 
 " Once an angry boy I know of, 
 
 Took and clutched his uncle To-bee, 
 
 Took and pitched him, in the evening, 
 
 Up into the starry heavens ; 
 
 Right against the boulder pavement 
 
 Of the Milky- way he pitched him, 
 
 And his blood and brains went splashing 
 
 Over all the sky around there ; 
 
 That s what makes them spots upon it 
 
 That is why it s called Aurora."* 
 
 Saw the dazzling planet Yenus 
 Blushing o er the dark horizon ; 
 Said, " What is that there, Marcosset ?" 
 And Marcosset up and answered, 
 " That s the hole your mother fell through, 
 When she tumbled from the plum-tree 
 Plum-tree in the planet Yenus 
 Down to Plow-e-tup the cornfield." 
 
 *A capital pun upon this word, in the original, id entirely lost in tL 
 tranelation. 
 
22 THE SONG OF MILKANWATHA. 
 
 And whenever, in the evening, 
 Brek-e-kex-co-ax, the bull-frog, 
 Made all kinds of dismal noises, 
 Milkanwatha, trembling, whispered, 
 a What an awful noise ; what does it ?" 
 And Marcosset up and answered ; 
 " Tis the bull-frog s way of singing, 
 Singing to another bull-frog 
 In the marshes and the duck-ponds 
 Only that, my Milkanwatha." 
 
 So, by slow degrees, it turned out, 
 That he learned the names of all things, 
 Of the birds, and beasts, and fishes, 
 Of the bugs of each description, 
 How they looked and where they hided, 
 And their general mode of living ; 
 So he gained from old Marcosset, 
 Much important information, 
 Much which we can never know of 
 In our day and generation 
 Our degenerate generation. 
 
23 
 
 II. 
 
 MILKANWATHA S HUNTING. 
 
 Now, about this time, Sumpunkin, 
 He, the jolly wag, Sumpunkin, 
 He, the crony of Marcosset, 
 Made a very stylish blow-gun 
 For our hero, Milkanwatha ; 
 Made it from a stalk of alder, 
 From a willow made some arrows 
 Little arrows for to blow through 
 And each arrow had a pin in. 
 
 This he gave to Milkanwatha 
 For to keep, he said, remarking, 
 " You must go, my little fellow, 
 Go into the woods behind here, 
 Go and kill a pretty squirrel, 
 Go and kill a rather big one." 
 
24 THE SONG- OF MILKANWATHA. 
 
 Right into the woods behind there 
 Ran the gallant Milkanwatha, 
 With his arrows and his blow-gun ; 
 And he heard the birds exclaiming, 
 " Don t you blow at me your arrows, 
 Blow your arrows with a pin in, 
 Oh, now, Milkanwatha, don t you." 
 
 Cried the O-pee-pod, the bullfinch, 
 Cried the Mll-e-pip, the chippy, 
 u Don t you blow at me your arrows, 
 With a pin in, Milkanwatha." 
 
 On a stump, not far before him, 
 Hopped the Lingo-sueedel, smiling, 
 Hopped the Lingo-sneedel, blue-bird, 
 Sneezed, and cried out, after sneezing, 
 " Don t you blow at me your arrows, 
 With a pin in, Milkanwatha." 
 
 And a little off to one side, 
 Peeped the Yalla-gal, the wood-chuck, 
 Sort o fear d and sort o not so, 
 Peeped and squeaked to Milkanwatha, 
 
25 
 
 44 Don t yon blow at me your arrows 
 With a pin in, Milkanwatba." 
 
 Onward through the woods behind there 
 Walked he, stalked he, with his blow-gun. 
 Heeding not these observations ; 
 Neither Opee-pod, the bullfinch, 
 Nor the Nill-e-pip, the chippy, 
 Nor the Yalla-gal, the woodchtick, 
 Nor the bluebird, Lingo-sneedel 
 He was hunting after squirrels, 
 After squirrels only, he was. 
 
 Crouching down behind an old log, 
 Pretty soon he saw a squirrel, 
 And it was a rather big one ; 
 Saw a squirrel s head on one side - 
 Saw a squirrel s tail the other 
 Head and tail of one big squirrel : 
 
 Taking in a long breath, very, 
 Milkanwatha aimed his blow-gun 
 Blew through with the long breath, very, 
 With the long breath that he took in ; 
 
 Q 
 
26 THE SONG OF MILKANWATIIA, 
 
 Squirrel s tail a moment quivered, 
 Squirrel closed his eyes a moment, 
 Turned a somerset, completely, 
 And lay dead upon the old log ; 
 For the arrow, with the pin in, 
 To his brain had penetrated, 
 Like a big musquito, stung him. 
 
 In the wilderness, behind there, 
 Far behind Marcosset s wigwam, 
 Far away from Watta-puddel, 
 Lay defunct Peek-week, the squirrel- 
 Lay without a breath or motion, 
 Hearing not the breezes sighing, 
 Hearing not their Tizzarizzen, 
 As they moaned his sad condition, 
 As they sobbed, amid the branches, 
 O er the death that he had come to, 
 O er his speedy dissolution. 
 
 But the victor, in his triumph, 
 Jumped and waved his hat, exulting 
 O er the death that he had come to, 
 
MILKANWATHA S HUNTING. 27 
 
 O er his speedy dissolution ; 
 And, with eager haste, he ran home, 
 In one hand Peek-week, the squirrel, 
 In the other hand the blow-gun 
 Fearful instrument, the blow-gun ; 
 And Marcosset and Sumpunkin, 
 Kissed him, cause he killed the squirrel, 
 Cause it was a rather big one. 
 From the squirrel-skin, Marcosset 
 Made some mittens for our hero, 
 Mittens with the fur-side, inside, 
 With the fur-side next his fingers 
 So s to keep the hand warm inside ; 
 That was why she put the fur-side 
 Why she put the fur-side, inside. 
 
 From the other parts, Marcosset 
 From the lungs, and lights, and liver, 
 Brain, and heart, and spinal marrow 
 Made a squirrel chowder for him ; 
 And their friends dropped in to eat some; 
 Smacked their lips, while they were eating, 
 
THE SONG OF MILKANWATHA. 
 
 Cause twas such a tender squirrel ; 
 Smacked the lips of Milkanwatha, 
 After they had finished eating, 
 Cause he was so bold a hunter ; 
 Called him Good-boy, "Mulee-donkee, 
 Called him Brave-boy, Spoo-ne-boo-be. 
 
III. 
 
 MILKANWATHA S YOUTH AND EARLY MANHOOD, 
 
 MILKANWATHA, now, was older 
 Older, bigger, than lie had been 
 Since his mother, Kimo-kairo, 
 la the cornfield came and bore him. 
 None were half as big as he was, 
 None were half as tall as he was, 
 None were half as strong as he was ; 
 None could lift the things that he could, 
 None could catch the things that he could, 
 None could eat the things that he could ; 
 No one ever laughed so loudly, 
 As he laughed, when something funny, 
 Happened for to come across him ; 
 
30 THE SONG OF MILKANWATIIA. 
 
 Ever saw such sights as he did, 
 Ever thrashed so many rascals, 
 Ever kissed so many damsels, 
 Ever nursed so many children. 
 
 He could take and fire an arrow 
 Eun right after go right by it- 
 Then stop short and say, distinctly, 
 Always, " Jac," and sometimes, " Kobbin-sun," 
 Ere the lazy arrow got there. 
 
 He could take and throw a stone so, 
 Throw it right up over-head so, 
 At the moment when the sun set, 
 That it wouldn t think of dropping, 
 Till the sun came up, next morning, 
 Till the Doodel-doo, the rooster, 
 Crowed the daylight up, next morning. 
 
 He could do the Cutta-dido 
 Cut the pigeon s wing, so quickly, 
 That his heels would strike together, 
 Eighty times and even ninety 
 Once he did it ninety-nine times 
 
* MILKANWATHA ? S YOUTH. 31 
 
 One more would have made the hundred. 
 
 He had leggins, Eoota-ba-ga, 
 That were quite peculiar leggins; 
 When they were put on and buttoned, 
 He could step from here to yonder, 
 Step from here, way over yonder, 
 Step right up on the horizon, 
 And converse there, with the full moon. 
 
 He had Clog-a-logs, moreover, 
 Boots with which, on one occasion, 
 While conversing with the full moon, 
 On the edge of the horizon, 
 He, so fiercely, kicked his foot out, 
 That he hit the constellation, 
 Thimbel-nubbin, or Big Dipper 
 Kicked a hole right in the bottom ; 
 So that all the water ran throQffh. 
 
 O 7 
 
 Which was put there, for the Great Bear, 
 For to come and wash his feet in. 
 All the eagles of the mountains 
 Flew far over Milkanwatha ; 
 
> J THE SONG OF MILKANVYATIJA.. 
 
 All the wild beasts of the forest 
 Trembled, when he strided toward them, 
 Fled into the shadows trembling. 
 
 All the old men praised his courage, 
 All the young men owned him strongest ; 
 All the women wished for children, 
 Wished for sons as brave as he was ; 
 All the maidens gazed upon him, 
 Gazed with silent admiration, 
 Gazed with beating hearts and blushes, 
 As he passed their lonely wigwams, 
 And returned with sighs and weeping, 
 To their usual avocations ; 
 Wishing, as they darned their stockings- 
 Scrubbed, and baked, and swept, and dusted. 
 Did clear-starching, did crochet-ing, 
 Made pincushions, always heart-shaped, 
 Fastened, two and two, together, 
 Pierced all o er with pins like arrows, 
 Arrows from an unseen archer 
 Wishing that a gallant lover, 
 
33 
 
 That a lover, like our hero, 
 
 Soon might come, and sit beside them 
 
 In their wigwams ; each one wishing 
 
 He was her n, and she was his n, 
 
 Ever her n, and ever his n, 
 
 Her n and his n, now and ever; 
 
 Each one wishing for our hero - 
 
 O 
 
 But he wishing not for no one ; 
 Having other things to think of, 
 Other fish upon his griddle, 
 Other fish to fry upon it. 
 
IV. 
 
 MILKANWATHA S FRIENDS. 
 
 FRIENDS enough, had Milkanwatha ; 
 Some he liked and some he didn t, 
 Some were true, and some were false ones ; 
 But a couple of the former, 
 He was very special fond of ; 
 Silli-ninkum, the sweet piper, 
 And the very fat man, Bee-del. 
 
 Milkanwatha s oldest crony 
 Was the piper, Silli-ninkum, 
 Him as was the best of pipers, 
 Him as piped, as no one else piped ; 
 Soon as he began a-piping, 
 
MILKANWATHA S FRIENDS. 35 
 
 Came the people for to hear him ; 
 Came the young men, and the old men, 
 Came the matrons, and the maidens, 
 Came the nurses, and the children, 
 For to hear him do his piping ; 
 Sometimes he would set em laughing- 
 Set em all a crying sometimes, 
 Cording as the tune was jolly, 
 Or forlorn and melancholy. 
 
 He would play so very softly, 
 That the breezes stopped to hear him, 
 That the squirrels ceased to chatter, 
 That the Yalla-gal, the woodchuck, 
 In his rapture, curled his tail up, 
 And the bluebird, Lingo-sneedel, 
 Stood on one leg for to listen. 
 
 Silli-ninkum, the sweet piper, 
 Was beloved by Milkanwatha, 
 Cause he piped as no one else piped, 
 Cause he always was obliging 
 Piping when requested for to. 
 
86 THE SONG OF MILKANWATHA. 
 
 But, beside him, Milkanwatha 
 Loved the very fat man, Bee-del ; 
 He, the fattest human being, 
 That you ever laid your eyes on. 
 From his very earliest childhood, 
 He was round, and fat, and lazy ; 
 Didn t go a-squirrel hunting, 
 Didn t skate and didn t nothing 
 Wasn t like the other children ; 
 But they understood the reason, 
 And they all were sorry for him, 
 Cause he was of such a fatness 
 Cause his fatness grew upon him. 
 
 Once his mother said nn-to him, 
 " Bee-del, you are good for nothing ; 
 Always hanging round the wigwam, 
 Waddling round about the village, 
 Lying, sprawled out, in the sunshine ; 
 You had best be doing something." 
 
 Not a word did Bee-del answer, 
 Not an observation made he, 
 
37 
 
 But he waddled from the corner, 
 From the wigwam slowly waddled, 
 Went and stood upon the hill-side, 
 Slowly sat down, slowly laid down, 
 Doubled up and started rolling ; 
 "Rolled right onward, forward, downward, 
 Down the green and sloping hill-side, 
 Down the hill-side kept a-rolling; 
 And his mother stood and watched him, 
 Wond ring when he d stop a-rolling. 
 
 Nothing more was heard of Bee-del, 
 For six months and something over; 
 
 O * 
 
 But, one morning, while a-baking, 
 Bee-del s mother heard a rumbling, 
 
 O / 
 
 Like a big stone, tumbling downward 
 From the hill-top, up above her ; 
 Went and looked, and there came Bee-del, 
 Came the fat man, rolling, rumbling, 
 Came a-rolling toward the wigwam, 
 Came and rolled in through the back-door, 
 Kolled right up into the corner, 
 
38 THE SONG OF MILKANWATIIA. 
 
 And remained rolled up, in silence. 
 
 He had been, for six months, rolling, 
 Six months and a little over ; 
 Rolling on from morn to evening, 
 And from season unto season, 
 Through all countries, nations, climates, 
 Past the zones and past the tropics. 
 Past the line of the equator, 
 Ever onward, forward, downward, 
 Till he got to where he came from 
 Till he all the earth had rolled round. 
 
 These two persons, just referred to, 
 Silli-ninkum, the sweet piper, 
 And the very fat man, Bee-del, 
 As I ve mentioned, were the couple 
 Were the friends of Milkanwatha 
 Whom he liked uncommon strongly ; 
 And these three, this faithful trio, 
 Never quarrelled with each other, 
 Never gossipped, never back-bit, 
 Never acted mean, as some do, 
 
39 
 
 But they did as they d be done by, 
 And they often met together, 
 And indulged in conversation 
 In a free and easy manner. 
 
40 
 
 V. 
 
 MILKANWATHA S COURTSHIP AND MARRIAGE. 
 
 JUST as, to a big umbrella, 
 Is the handle, when it s raining, 
 So a wife is, to her husband ; 
 Though the handle do support it, 
 Tis the top keeps all the rain off; 
 Though the top gets all the wetting, 
 5 T is the handle bears the burden ; 
 So the top is good for nothing, 
 If there isn t any handle, 
 And the case holds, vice versa. 
 
 In this way, did Milkanwatha 
 Reason, when he was a-thinking, 
 Thinking of his Pogee-wogee, 
 
 i 
 
MILKANWATHA S COURTSHIP. 4:1 
 
 Of the blue-eyed Sweet -Potato, 
 In the village of the Noodles. 
 
 " Marry some one, living round hero," 
 Said the ancient nurse, Marcosset ; 
 " Don t go looking over yonder, 
 For to find a wife to marry : 
 As a stick of maple candy, 
 Is the homeliest girl around here ; 
 As a lozenge or a gum-drop 
 Is the prettiest over yonder." 
 
 And thus answered Milkanwatha; 
 u Yery true, dear old Marcosset. 
 Mighty sweet is maple candy, 
 But I much prefer a lozenge 
 Very much prefer a gum-drop." 
 
 Said Marcosset, " Don t you go, now, 
 For to get a girl to marry, 
 Knowing nothing whatsoever ; 
 Bring one as can do clear starching, 
 Sew, and knit, and run of errands, 
 And be generally useful 
 
43 THE SONG OF MILKANWATIIA. 
 
 That s the sort of girl to marry." 
 
 Milkanwatha answered, cheerful ; 
 " In the regions far beyond here, 
 Where the Noodles pitch their wigwams, 
 Fogee-wogee, Sweet-Potato, 
 Charming female, is residing ; 
 I will go, and fetch her to you, 
 And she 11 make herself convenient, 
 Sew, and knit, and do clear-starching, 
 Be your lozenge, be your gum-drop, 
 Be your stick of maple candy." 
 
 " Don t you go now," said Marcosset, 
 " Go and fetch an unknown female, 
 Don t you go and fetch a Noodle 
 Awfnl strange folks, are the Noodles/ 
 
 Then replied our Milkanwatha; 
 " That s exactly why I do it, 
 Cause they re strange, and mustn t l>j so 
 We must make ourselves acquainted, 
 We must go and call- upon them." 
 Saying which, our hero, 
 
MILKANWATHA S COUETSHIP. 43 
 
 Travelled to the regions northward, 
 Past the dreary wildernesses, 
 Where the Ninkumpoops inhabit, 
 To the village of the Noodles. 
 
 He had put on Eoota-ba-ga, 
 Buttoned on the magic leggins, 
 And, although he kept a-stepping, 
 From one hill-top to another, 
 Over cornfields, soft and mushy, 
 Over marshes, goose-ponds, duck-ponds, 
 Yet he seemed a long while, getting 
 To the home of Pogee-wogce, 
 To the village of the Noodles. 
 
 Shortly previous to arriving, 
 He perceived a woodchuck, peeping 
 Peeping from his hole, for fresh air, 
 Cause twas badly ventilated, 
 But the woodchuck didn t see him ; 
 So lie took and kicked his foot out, 
 And he knocked the woodchuck s brains out- 
 Just as. when he hit the bottom 
 
44 THE SOXG OF MILKANWATIJA. 
 
 Of the Dipper, Thimbel-nubbin, 
 All the water went and ran through, 
 Which was put there, for the Great Bear, 
 For to come and wash his feet in. 
 
 Then he took the woodchuck with him, 
 For a gift to Pogee-wogee ; 
 " Who is that ?" inquired a Noodle 
 "That s the hero Milkanwatha ; " 
 " What s he got ? " " He s got a woodchuck: 
 
 Pogee-wogee s loving grandma 
 At the front door sat, a-knitting, 
 And, beside her, Sweet-Potato, 
 Charming female, was a-sitting, 
 Looking somewhat melancholy. 
 
 The old lady s mind was busy 
 Busy as her trembling fingers ; 
 Far away her thoughts were flitting, 
 Midst the days so long departed, 
 Midst the memories of girlhood, 
 Midst the sunny moments flitting ; 
 Flitting midst them, as, so often, 
 
She had seen, in youthful rambles 
 With the dear ones gone forever, 
 Bees, on restless wing pass lightly, 
 Lightly on from flower to flower, 
 Humming low, melodious music, 
 Sporting, gayly, in the sun-shine. 
 
 Pogee s thoughts were busy, also, 
 Busy as her grandma s fingers ; 
 She was thinking of our hero, 
 Wond ring why she d never met him, 
 Never heard his well-known footstep, 
 Never seen his sturdy figure, 
 Since that time when they had parted, 
 Since that sunny summer morning. 
 
 In the midst of these reflections, 
 Midst the thoughts, that passed before them, 
 Unexpected, round a corner, 
 Rather wet with perspiration, 
 Holding in his hand the woodchuck, 
 Came the lover ardent lover 
 Of the Noodle, Pogee-wogee, 
 
46 THE SOKG OF MILKANWATHA. 
 
 Oaine the son of Kimo-kairo, 
 Came the joyous Milkanwatha. 
 
 Ancient grandame stopped her knitting 
 Laid the stocking in the window, 
 Asked him to come in, remarking, 
 " Glad to see you, Milkanwatha." 
 
 In the lap of Pogee-wogee 
 Milkanwatha laid the woodchuck, 
 And she looked at him so tender, 
 That his blood ran cold within him, 
 Saying, with a bashful softness, 
 " Very happy for to see you 
 Yery much so, Milkanwatha." 
 
 Soon as he was seated, almost, 
 Pogee-wogee fetched refreshments, 
 Cause he looked so hot and tired, 
 Cause he had such perspiration ; 
 Fetched him in some "floating island, 
 Interspersed with pickled walnuts, 
 Which he much preferred of all things; 
 And a little mug of cider, 
 
MILKANWATHA S COUKTSHIP. 47 
 
 For to take and wash it down with, 
 Wash the floating isle and walnuts, 
 Isle and pickled walnuts down with. 
 
 .Not a word spoke Pogee-wogee, 
 But she heard the conversation 
 Going on, while he was feeding, 
 Heard him tell of old Marcosset 
 How she found him, how she nursed him, 
 Gave him porridge, gave him catnip, 
 Gave him pap and water gruel ; 
 Heard him tell of Silli-ninkum, 
 And the very fat man, Bee-del 
 How the former piped uncommon, 
 And the latter rolled the earth round ; 
 Heard him give a fine description, 
 Of the scenery about there, 
 On the banks of Watta-puddel. 
 
 "You have never been to see us, 
 On the banks of Watta-puddel 
 You nor any other Noodles ; 
 Shall we never scrape acquaintance?" 
 
4:8 THE SONG OF MILKANWATHA. 
 
 Said the ardent Milkanwatha. 
 "That this may be obviated, 
 State of things be put a stop to, 
 S pose you give me Pogee-wogee, 
 For to be a wife \\u-to me 
 Sweet-Potato, charming female, 
 Much the handsomest of Noodles." 
 
 For some minutes, the old lady 
 Smoked her solemn pipe in silence ; 
 Putting on her glasses, slowly, 
 First she looked at Pogee-wogee, 
 Then she looked at Milkanwatha ; 
 " It depends on Pogee-wogee 
 What s your feeling on the subject I 
 Speak your mind and heart out, Pogee/ 3 
 
 And the charming Sweet-Potato, 
 To the very ear-tips blushing, 
 With a dubious expression, 
 Crossed the wigwam to her lover, 
 Drew her stool up, saying faintly, 
 " You may have me, if you want to- 
 
MILKANWATHA S COURTSHIP. 49 
 
 I Jl go with you, Milkanwatha." 
 Such was Milkanwatha s courting, 
 
 This was just the way he did it, 
 
 Bore his darling, Pogee-wogee, 
 
 From her grandma s lonely cabin. 
 
 From the village of the Noodles ; 
 
 Back he bore her thro the forests, 
 
 Over hills, and over valleys, 
 
 To the ancient nurse s wigwam 
 
 To the wigwam of Marcosset. 
 All along the line of travel, 
 
 Birds were singing to the lovers, 
 
 Songs of welcome mid the branches, 
 
 Songs of warm congratulation, 
 
 And the bugs joined in the chorus ; 
 
 Sang the Opee-pod, the bullfinch, 
 
 Sang the Nillee-pip, the chippy, 
 
 Sang the bluebird, Lingo-Sneedel ; 
 
 Hummed the Feesh -go-bang, musquito, 
 
 Hummed Snappo, the pinching-beetle, 
 
 And the dragon-fly, Snap-peter ; 
 3 
 
50 THE SONG OF MILKANWATHA. 
 
 u Aint it lucky, aint it lucky, 
 Jolly luck for Pogee-wogee, 
 Jolly luck for Milkanwatha." 
 
 So he fetched her to Marcosset, 
 Fetched the lozenge, fetched the gum-drop, 
 Fetched the stick of maple candy, 
 Pogee-wogee, Sweet-Potato, 
 Loveliest of female Noodles. 
 
 They arrived on Tuesday morning, 
 And were married Thursday evening ; 
 All day Tuesday, old Marcosset, 
 Made her pics and preparations ; 
 All day Wednesday, boys were running 
 Up and down, throughout the village, 
 For to leave a soda-cracker, 
 At the door of every wigwam, 
 As a card of invitation 
 As a sign that Milkanwatha 
 Meditated matrimony. 
 
 Thursday came, and Thursday evening, 
 And the neighbors, also, with it ; 
 
51 
 
 Fast they crowded in the wigwam, 
 Crowded in the pies and puddings, 
 Which Marcosset made, on Tuesday ; 
 But the bride, nor bridegroom neither, 
 Didn t eat a bit of nothing, 
 Only waited on the others, 
 Only watched the pies and puddings 
 Disappearing, in succession, 
 In the stomachs of the people. 
 
 When the eating part was over, 
 There was singing, piping, dancing, 
 And the evening went so swiftly, 
 ^Chat it left the guests behind it, 
 Left them, mid the hours of morning. 
 
 Then they called for Silli-ninkum, 
 For to sing a song at parting, 
 And he came, the skillful piper, 
 Him as always was obliging, 
 Piping, when requested for to ; 
 Came, and sang the song that follows, 
 Sang the verses, twixt the blowings, 
 
52 THE SONG OF MILKANWATHA. 
 
 Sang a female s lamentation. 
 For her lover, her Bee-no-nee. 
 
 " When I think of him I love so, 
 Oh lor ! think of him I love so, 
 When I am a-thinking of him 
 
 Ouch ! my sweetheart, my Bee-no-nee. 
 
 " Oh lor ! when we left each other, 
 He presented me a thimble, 
 As a pledge, a silver thimble 
 
 Ouch 1 my sweetheart, my Bee-no-nee ! 
 
 u I ll go long with you, he whispered, 
 * Oh lor ! to the place you came from, 
 Let me go along, he whispered 
 
 Ouch ! my sweetheart, my Bee-no-nee ! 
 
 " It s awful fur, full fur, I answered, 
 Fur away it is, I answered, 
 Oh lor, yes I the place I come from 
 Ouch 1 my sweetheart, my Bee-no-nee ! 
 
53 
 
 "As I looked round for to see him, 
 Where I left him, for to see him, 
 He was looking for to see me 
 
 Ouch ! my sweetheart, my Bee-no-nee ! 
 
 " On the log he was a-sitting, 
 On the hollow log a-sitting, 
 That was chopped down by somebody 
 
 Ouch ! my sweetheart, my Bee-no-nee ! 
 
 " When I think of him I love so, 
 Oh lor ! think of him I love so, 
 When I am a- thinking of him 
 
 Ouch ! my sweetheart, my Bee-no-nee !" 
 
 When this mournful song was ended, 
 All the folks seemed in a hurry 
 For to go, and so they did it, 
 Leaving there the nurse Marcosset, 
 With the bride and with the bridegroom ; 
 
54 THE SONG OF MILKANWATHA. 
 
 And they all three started eating, 
 And continued so till morning 
 Till the Doodel-doo, the rooster, 
 Crowed the daylight up next morning. 
 
55 
 
 VI. 
 
 PA-PA-MAMA. 
 
 You shall hear how Pa-pa-mama, 
 Pogee-wogee s whilome lover, 
 In the village of the Noodles, 
 Came one time to "Watta-puddel ; 
 How he showed himself a coward, 
 How he proved himself a rascal, 
 How he reached his dissolution . 
 
 It was in the sprinkly Spring-time, 
 That he came to Watta-puddel ; 
 Came with bitter thoughts inside him, 
 Came to be revenged on Pogee, 
 Cause she had, in times departed, 
 When he asked her to be his n. 
 
56 THE SONG OF MILKANWATHA. 
 
 Strongly urged her to be his n 
 Said with pitying glance, but firmly, 
 " Never your n, O Pa-pa-mama! 
 No," she muttered, " never his n." 
 
 Through the village, sneaking came he, 
 At the dusky hour of twilight, 
 When the people all were gathered, 
 As their custom was to do so, 
 Met together, story-telling, 
 In the fat man, Bee-del s wigwam ; 
 Just as Bee-del was describing 
 What he witnessed while a-rumbling, 
 All the earth around, a-rumbling 
 On his swift, mysterious journey. 
 And the people listened to him, 
 Winking when he wasn t looking, 
 Much as if to say, " We know him, 
 Know him we do, you and me do." 
 
 He had seen, he said, a river 
 Bigger than the Watta-puddel, 
 And so muddy too, said Bee-del, 
 
PA-PA-MAMA. 57 
 
 That a spoon stands straight up in it ! 
 
 And the people pointed slowly 
 
 Over the left shoulder, saying, 
 
 " Oh now, Bee-del, what a story, 
 
 Boo ! " they said, " you re telling, Bee-del." 
 
 On this river deep and muddy, 
 Swam a monster like a sturgeon, 
 Fatter than ten thousand sturgeons, 
 And his fins, instead of flapping, 
 Eound and round continued turning, 
 Quite as fast as I myself did. 
 " Boo!" the people cried together, 
 " Boo! " they said, " it s such a big one." 
 
 On his head, he said, were growing, 
 Straight and tall as is the pine-tree, 
 Two black tusks all hollow inside ; 
 And his breath, so dark and dismal, 
 Dark as thunder -clouds in summer, 
 Through them rolled forth o er the river, . 
 Darkening all the landscape over. 
 
 " Boo I " they said, " it s Bee-del talking." 
 3* 
 
58 THE SONG OF MILKANWATHA. 
 
 Kound his mouth, like summer lightning, 
 Flames of fire flashed in the darkness, 
 And the monster, while a-swimming, 
 Shrieked so wildly, that the echoes 
 On the far-off misty hill-sides, 
 On the hill-sides far below there, 
 Up and answered to his shrieking, 
 Answered as the tigress answers 
 To the tiger in the forest. 
 "Boo! " they said, " a likely story ! " 
 
 On his back were huddled, shrinking, 
 Men and women, pale and shrinking, 
 Pale-faced as the moon in winter ; 
 Borne off by the fiery monster 
 For the prey of him and his n, 
 Borne off, as the tiger swiftly 
 Bears his victim through the darkness, 
 Bears it to his forest-hiding. 
 And the people winking, whispered, 
 " "What a liar is our Bee-del ! 
 Boo 1" they said, " what lies he tells us." 
 
PA-PA-MAMA. 59 
 
 In the meantime, Pa-pa-mama 
 Stealing through the silent evening 
 Reached the wigwam of Marcosset ; 
 " No one here," he said, rejoicing, 
 " Coast all clear," he said, exulting ; 
 " All the folks have gone to Bee-del V 
 
 With a mushy step he entered, 
 Turned the tables bottom upside, 
 Turned the chairs all upside downside, 
 Kicked the boiling kettle over, 
 Piled the bed-clothes in the corner, 
 Crammed the bolster up the chimney, 
 For to trouble Pogee-wogee, 
 For to make Marcosset angry ; 
 After which he started homeward 
 On his stealthy journey started. 
 
 When our hero, shortly after, 
 Came and saw the wild disorder, 
 " Not so long," said he, " his legs are, 
 But I 11 catch this fellow quickly." 
 
 Bout a mile or so he d travelled, 
 
60 THE SONG OF MILKANWATHA. 
 
 On the track of Pa-pa-mama, 
 When he saw, just on before him, 
 Pa-pa-mama disappearing, 
 Slowly sinking in a mudhole, 
 Saw his head just going under ; 
 And he stepped up very briskly, 
 Shouting down into the mud-hole, 
 " Never more, O Pa-pa-mama ! 
 Will you drop into our wigwam ; 
 You have dropped in once too often, 
 Turned the tables are forever, 
 You have done your final dropping ; " 
 Then the hole closed up forever. 
 But the people of the village 
 Still remember Pa-pa-mama ; 
 And whenever in the winter, 
 While they re sitting story-telling, 
 Comes the storm- wind from the Northland, 
 Battling all the doors and windows, 
 Drifting snow around the wigwams ; 
 
PA-PA-MAMA. 61 
 
 " Lo !" they say, " tis Pa-pa-mama, 
 Turning all things wrong side upside, 
 Turning all things upside downside 
 Tis that Pa-pa-mama s doings." 
 
62 
 
 VII. 
 
 THE FEVER AND THE AGUE. 
 
 FIFTEEN summers, fifteen winters, 
 Fifteen springs, and fourteen autumns, 
 Full of joys and full of sorrows, 
 !N"ow had passed since Milkanwatha, 
 Bor the beauteous Pogee-wogee 
 To the banks of "Watta-puddel ; 
 Full of joys, with wife and children, 
 Full of griefs, for friends departed. 
 
 Silli-ninkum, the sweet piper, 
 Him as piped as no one else piped, 
 He had passed to Ponee-rag-bag, 
 To the regions down the river ; 
 He had done his final piping 
 On the banks of Watta-puddel. 
 
THE FEVER AND THE AGUE. 63 
 
 Going out, one winter morning, 
 For a little private skating, 
 Lo ! the ice gave way beneath him ! 
 Lo ! the chilling waters seized him ! 
 Bore him, struggling, ever downward, 
 To the country far below there, 
 To the regions down the river ! 
 
 Bee-del, too, was there no longer, 
 Milkanwatha s friend, the fat man ; 
 He had left the field of action, 
 Left the banks of Watta-puddel. 
 
 Since the piper had departed 
 He had grown a great deal fatter, 
 In his grief for having lost him, 
 Grown so fat he seldom waddled 
 Through the village as aforetime, 
 Only hung around the wigwam, 
 Sprawled himself out in the sunshine : 
 
 But one day, in fiery August, 
 After quite a hearty dinner, 
 He went down, he rolled himself down, 
 
64 THE SONG OF MILKANWATHA. 
 
 To the river for to bathe there, 
 As in days so long departed, 
 When he washed himself more often ; 
 Far into the stream he waded, 
 And, alas ! the current seized him ! 
 As it seized poor Silli-ninkum ; 
 In its wild embrace it clasped him, 
 And by reason of his fatness 
 Of his stomach s monstrous fatness, 
 Which prevented him from striking, 
 Striking out his legs as usual 
 He was carried, like a bladder, 
 Floating on the turbid waters, 
 To the land of Ponee-rag-bag, 
 To the regions farther downward. 
 
 Never jumps a sheep that s frightened, 
 Over any fence whatever, 
 Over wall, or fence, or timber, 
 But a second follows after, 
 And a third, upon the second, 
 And a fourth, and fifth, and so on, 
 
THE FEVER AND THE AGUE. 65 
 
 First a sheep, and then a dozen, 
 Till they all, in quick suqjcession, 
 One by one have got clean over : 
 
 So misfortunes, almost always, 
 Follow after one another, 
 Seem to watch each other, always ; 
 "When they see the tail uplifted, 
 In the air the tail uplifted, 
 As the sorrow leapeth over ; 
 Lo ! they follow, thicker, faster, 
 Till the air of earth seems darkened, 
 "With the tails of sad misfortunes, 
 Till our hearts, within us, weary, 
 Cry out : " Are there more a-coming ?" 
 
 So, alas, our Milkanwatha, 
 Ten years after he was married, 
 In that most uncommon winter, 
 Cried out : " Are there more a-coming ? " 
 
 O, that most uncommon winter ! 
 O that sneezy, freezy winter ! 
 Ever faster! faster ! ! faster ! ! ! 
 
66 THE SONG OF MILKANWATHA. 
 
 Fell the snow, on vale and hill-side ; 
 
 Ever colder ! colder ! ! colder ! ! ! 
 
 Swept the wild winds from the Northland, 
 
 Swept the storm-wind Gus-ta-blo-za ! 
 
 It was really inconvenient, 
 
 Merely to step out a moment, 
 
 And, to go to any distance, 
 
 Less you muffled up, completely, 
 
 In your tippet and your mittens, 
 
 Wasn t possible, by no means, 
 
 Without getting badly frost-bit. 
 
 O ! the Fever and the Ague ! 
 O ! the burning of the Fever ! 
 O ! the shaking of the Ague ! 
 O ! the way the children took it ! 
 O ! the way the mothers, also, 
 Took the Fever and the Ague ! ! 
 
 To the ancient nurse s wigwam, 
 Came the two unpleasant strangers, 
 Came, without an invitation, 
 Sat them down by Pogee, boldly. 
 
THE FEVER AND THE AGUE. 67 
 
 Staring at the female Noodle ! 
 One of them spoke up, remarking, 
 " I am Fever, Doan-chu-no-me ! " 
 And the other one continued, 
 " I am Ague, Wot-el-sha-ku ! ! " 
 
 But the frightened Pogee, shrinking, 
 Kept a-shaking and a-burning, 
 Cause the Fever and the Ague, 
 Came and sat so close beside her, 
 Cause they stared so steady at her. 
 
 Eight into the woods behind there, 
 Swiftly, madly, Milkanwatha 
 Kushed, to go and fetch the doctors 
 All the doctors round about there ; 
 And the ancient nurse Marcosset, 
 She so skilled in chills and fever, 
 Gave her warm drinks for to cure her, 
 For to try and take the chill off. 
 
 Then the doctors, Nau-she-atus, 
 Six in all, came in to see her ; 
 Two and two, they came together, 
 
68 THE SONG OF MILKANWATHA. 
 
 Came and marched, three times, around her ; 
 
 Then went up one to the bed-side, 
 " Put your tongue out, Pogee-wogee." 
 Hi-ai-ai ! said all the doctors, 
 Ho-ang-ho! the queer old doctors. 
 And another went, observing, 
 Pogee-wogee s got the Ague ; 
 Hi-ai ai ! said all the doctors, 
 Ho-ang-ho ! the queer old doctors. 
 And a third one followed, saying, 
 Pretty soon, she 11 have the Fever ; 
 Hi-ai-ai ! said all the dootters 
 Ho-ang-ho ! the queer old doctors. 
 Then the other three did likewise ; 
 After which, they marched together, 
 Two and two, around the bedstead, 
 Marched out from Marcosset s wigwam, 
 In the manner they had entered ; 
 Hi-ai-ai ! the wise old doctors 
 Ho-ang-ho ! the wondrous doctors. 
 
 But, alas, for Pogee-wogee ! 
 
THE FEVEB AND THE AGUE. 69 
 
 And, alas, for Milkanwatha 1 
 She, the loveliest of Noodles, 
 Was so scorched up by the Fever, 
 So much shook up by the Ague, 
 That she spoke nor moved no longer, 
 And our hero, disappointed, 
 Wrapt her in a heavy blanket, 
 In the very neatest manner, 
 Cording to the village custom ; 
 And they bore her to the river, 
 In a long, and sad procession ; 
 And they stood and dropped her in it, 
 As their custom was to do so ; 
 And the eager waters clasped her, 
 Bore her body, as it had done, 
 In the case of him, the piper, 
 In the case of him, the fat man, 
 To the land of Ponee-rag-bag, 
 To the regions farther downward. 
 
 "Float on down, said Milkanwatha, 
 " Float on down, my duck, my darling, 
 
70 THE SONG OF 3HLKANWATHA, 
 
 Very soon, I ll follow after, 
 
 To the regions down the river, 
 
 I shall be along, my darling, 
 
 Be along, my duck, directly, 
 
 Be along, my duck, my darling 
 
 Float on, float, and keep a-floating." 
 
71 
 
 VIII. 
 
 MILKANWATHA S DEPARTURE TO PONEE-RAG-BAG. 
 
 GOING now among the people, 
 On the banks there, standing, gazing, 
 " Lo ! " he told them, u I am going, 
 I am going, now, to leave you, 
 Going down the Watta-puddel, 
 To the region of the sunset, 
 To the hole the sun drops into, 
 Over yonder red horizon 
 "Where you ve, often, seen me standing, 
 And conversing with the full-moon 
 And I shan t be back, at present, 
 Not for quite a lengthy season ; 
 Take care of yourselves, my people, 
 
72 THE SONG OF MILK AN W ATI! A. 
 
 Take much care," said Milkanwatha. 
 
 Then he quickly pushed his skiff off, 
 Got aboard and floated in it, 
 Down the river s rushing current, 
 In the sunlight, and the moonlight, 
 Floating towards the Western sunset 
 On his silent journey floated ; 
 And the people standing, gazing, 
 Saw him bobbing, bobbing, bobbing, 
 Up and down upon the river, 
 Saw his Lawni-weeper waving, 
 Saw his handkerchief a-waving, 
 Far adown the Watta-puddel ; 
 And they all continued calling, 
 " Good-bye, good-bye, Milkanwatha;" 
 And the gray goose, Dab-si-di-do, 
 O er the troubled waters flying, 
 Screamed out, " Good-bye, Milkanwatha; " 
 And the Yalla-gal, the woodchuck, 
 Squeaked out, " Good bye, Milkanwatha ; " 
 And the melancholy bull-frog, 
 
DEPARTS TO PONEE-KAG-BAG. 73 
 
 Brek-e-kex-co-ax, the bull-frog, 
 On the river s slimy margin, 
 Echoed, " Good-bye," Milkanwatha. 
 
 So it was that Milkanwatha, 
 Him as is our story s hero, 
 Floated down the Bushing river, 
 Floated thro the fields and forests, 
 Thro the vales and mountains floated, 
 Ever bobbing, bobbing, bobbing, 
 In the moonlight and the sunlight, 
 To the country of the sunset, 
 To the regions farther downward, 
 To the land of Ponee-rag-bag, 
 Far adown the Rushing river 
 
 O 
 
 Rushing river, Watta-puddel. 
 
CONCLUSION. 
 
 WHEN the hero of our legend 
 Keached the land of Ponee-rag-bag, 
 Reached the hole the sun drops into, 
 Lo ! an unexpected pleasure 
 Waited for him, on the landing ; 
 In her blanket wet and dripping, 
 Just as much alive as usual, 
 Stood there, smiling, on the landing, 
 Pogee loveliest of Noodles. 
 
 For the water s stdd en coldness, 
 From her silent stupor^waked her, 
 From the swooning of the Fever, 
 Which, in vain, the wise old doctors, 
 
CONCLUSION. 
 
 Which the Ague, vainly shaking, 
 Tried to make her wake up out of, 
 In the wigwam of Marcosset ; 
 
 And our hero, rushing to her, 
 Clasped her in his arms, exclaiming, 
 " Lo ! I see, my duck, my darling. 
 See the moral of this matter, 
 See the lesson that it teaches ; 
 What the Allopathic Practice 
 Was unable to accomplish, 
 Lo ! how quickly was effected 
 By the Plunge-bath, and the Blanket, 
 By the use of Hydropathy : 
 We must go back, Pogee darling, 
 Oh lor ! to the place we come from, 
 We must hasten to our people, 
 And disclose to them this system, 
 Glorious system Hydropa^y." 
 
 And they found there Silli-ninkum, 
 And the fat man, Bee-del, also, 
 In the same mysterious manner 
 
 75 
 
76 THE SONG OF MILKANWATHA. 
 
 Rescued from the hand of Danger 
 From tfie jaws of Dissolution ; 
 And they all went back together, 
 And he told the grateful people 
 How to drive off all diseases, 
 By the Plunge-bath and the Blanket- 
 By the use of Hydropathy. 
 
 To this day, they are residing, 
 Free from fear of chills and fever 
 "Worst of ills that flesh is heir to," 
 Darkest shadow o er our pathway, 
 From the present to the future, 
 From the is now to the c shall be 
 To this hour, they are residing 
 In their village, by the river ; 
 And our hero doubly liveth 
 On the banks of Watta-puddel 
 In the hearts of all his people, 
 Whom he taught the Bath and Blanket 
 Glorious System Hydropathy. 
 
77 
 
 NOTES. 
 
 PAGE 12. Brek-e-kex-co-ax, the lull frog. 
 
 The scholar will be reminded of the "Frogs" of 
 Aristophanes. The word is one of a vast number, which 
 might be referred to, in evidence of the fact, that " Fee- 
 jee," and " Greek," are derived from a common root 
 and the translator has no hesitation in asserting his con 
 viction, that the early inhabitants of Greece the Pelas- 
 gians were colonists from these islands. The question 
 is much too large for discussion here. 
 
 PAGE 12. Literatim et verbatim. 
 
 The introduction of this familiar Latinism will not, it 
 is hoped, be deemed in bad taste, when it is remem 
 bered, that our own language furnishes no proper substi 
 tute. In the original it reads, "Li-ka-zak-lee, Jus-sa- 
 zak-lee." 
 
78 NOTES. 
 
 PAGE 16. Kimo-Jcairo, or Pretty Pottie. 
 
 Is a favorite name with the Feejese. It is probably 
 taken from the fable of the " Parrot and the Partridge," 
 a verse of which is quoted below dropping, of course* 
 the Feejee characters, but retaining, as nearly as pos 
 sible, the sound of the original. 
 
 " Kimokairo, delto mairo, 
 Kimokairo kimo ? 
 Strim-stram pom a diddel, 
 Lath-a-bon-ne, rig-dam 
 Rig-dam-bol-le-meta-kimo! " 
 
 PAGE 30. Always "Jac," and sometimes " Rdbtin-sun." 
 The reader will perceive, that to this language we are 
 
 indebted for the expression : " Before you can say Jack 
 
 Kobinson." 
 
 PAGE 32. Did dear-starching, did crochet-ing. 
 
 It is believed that these terms more nearly define to 
 the English mind, the nature of the operations alluded 
 to, than any others. Goats milk, however, is used 
 instead of starch and its eifect is to soften, rather than 
 stiffen the material. All work of the latter sort knit- 
 
NOTES. 79 
 
 ting, netting, etc., is done upon the thumbs, without the 
 aid of needles, in a manner which cannot be described. 
 
 PAGE 40. Just as to a big 
 
 Umbrellas are known to have been in common use in 
 these islands, from the earliest times. They are, in 
 variably, constructed of sheet tin. 
 
 PAGE 48. Putting on her glasses, slowly. 
 
 The Feejee women, of all ages, are proverbially near 
 sighted. In the other islands of the Pacific, the phrase, 
 " as blind as a Feejee," is often heard. The date of the 
 invention of Spectacles is unknown. 
 
 PAGE 43. To the very ear-tips blushing. 
 
 This expression is remarkable not because of its 
 poetic merit only but from the fact, that it has been 
 adopted by two poets of our own. In Keats Endymion, 
 we find, " those ears, 
 
 " Whose tips are glowing hot." 
 
 and in the "Life Drama," by the " modern Shakspeare," 
 as Alexander Smith has been aptly designated by several 
 of the prominent English reviews, occurs the line 
 
 " Hot to the fnr-tip, with great thump? of heart." 
 
80 NOTES. 
 
 PAGE 76. Worst of ills that flesh is heir to. 
 The striking parallelism between this line, and the oft 
 quoted passage from Hamlet s Soliloquy : 
 
 ; The thousand natural shocks that flesh is heir to," 
 
 may excite some surprise. In the poem, it will be seen 
 that it appears as a quotation not from the English bard, 
 as some might suppose but from Tremen-jus, aFeejee 
 poet who flourished about the year 13. We give the 
 Passage in which it occurs, put into the mouth of a war- 
 chief, while vainly endeavoring to devour an old enemy, 
 captured in battle. 
 
 " Thou tough soul ! eating of whom be toil! 
 
 Juiceless, thin, of bone compact, and sinew, 
 
 Whereto pertain th flavor, deathful strong ; 
 
 Not for food adapt, save of swiny herd, 
 
 Boar-marshalled, tiger thunder-begotten, 
 
 Or solar wolf! Famished were I, 
 
 Youthfuller, such as not, then less heeded; 
 
 Thus being, cannot I meat introduct 
 
 Of mould o er-tasteful, all pervasive, rank, 
 
 Of ills flesh be th heir to, worst much, may be!" 
 
 It must be borne in mind, however, that the poem in 
 question was written in ruder times. 
 
NOTES. 81 
 
 At the period of the translator s residence in Chaw-a- 
 man-up, the practice of cannibalism had been, for many 
 years, abandoned, and in other islands of the group, the 
 minds of the people were so far enlightened, that human 
 flesh was indulged in only on Sundays. 
 
 PAGE 76. Whom Tie taught the Bath and Blanket. 
 
 The period of the introduction of the Water treatment 
 into this island, cannot be definitely fixed, but it is sup 
 posed to vary little from the date of the Downfall of the 
 Koman Empire. 
 
 Milkanwatha, the hero of the Legend and the founder 
 of the System, now ranks among the highest of the Fee- 
 jee divinities. His name is held religiously sacred, and 
 he is always addressed, as the " god of the psycho-pom 
 pous function." 
 
 Much additional information concerning him, may be 
 found in the translator s forthcoming work, " The 
 Cyclopaedia of Feejee Literature." 
 
 4* 
 
VOCABULARY. 
 
 Brek-e-kex-co-ax Bull-frog. 
 
 Bee-del Fat man- 
 
 Bee-no-nee Dear darling. 
 
 Bo Pshaw ! 
 
 Clog-a-logs BootSm 
 
 Cutta-dido Pigeon s wing. 
 
 Doan-chu-no-me Fever. 
 
 Doo-del-doo , . .Rooster. 
 
 Peesh-go-bang Musguito. 
 
 Gusta-blo-za Storm-wind. 
 
 Hi-ai-ai Yes, of course. 
 
 Hitta-ka dink Lullaby. 
 
 Ho-ang-ho Yes, ly all means. 
 
 Kimo-kairo p re tty Pollie. 
 
 Lawni-weeper Handkerchief. 
 
 Lingo-sneedel Bluebird. 
 
 Lum-ba-go 5^ 
 
 Mar-cos-set , Ancient nurse. 
 
 Me-le-wee-git Lightning-bug. 
 
 Milkanwatha Star-lorn. 
 
 Mulee-donkee Goodloy. 
 
 Mus-tug-gin Verdant valley. 
 
84: VOCABULARY. 
 
 tfinkutnpoops Feejee tribe. 
 
 Nil-le-pip GU W ie 
 
 Noodles Feejee tribe. 
 
 Nau-she-a-tus Doctors. 
 
 0-pee-pod Bullfinch. 
 
 Pa-pa-mama Storm-fool 
 
 Peek-week Squirrel 
 
 Pee-ne-wig Turkey-buzzard. 
 
 Plow-e-tup Corn-field. 
 
 Po-gee-wo-gee Sweet-potato. 
 
 Po-nee-rag-bag Land far down. 
 
 Quag J)A 
 
 Eig-dam-bol-le-met-a-kimo Partridge. 
 
 Boo-ta-ba-ga Jfo^ leggins. 
 
 Kum-pa-lump-kin Sweet singer. 
 
 Snap-po PincUng-beetle. 
 
 Snap-peter Dragon-fly. 
 
 Silli-ninkum Sweet piper. 
 
 Splosh-ka-swosh-ky Sound of water. 
 
 Sticka-ta-wa-in Flea. 
 
 Spoo-ne-boo-be Brave boy. 
 
 Sum-punk-in Jotty wag. 
 
 Wot-el-sha-ku Ague. 
 
 Thimbel-nubbin Big Dipper. 
 
 Tiz-za-riz-zen Sound of breezes. 
 
 Watta-puddel Rushing river. 
 
 Yal-la-gal Woodchuck. 
 
ADDITIONAL POEMS. 
 
TO 
 
 L A F F A N GROFATTE, 
 
 SWISS CONSUL AT CHAWAMANUP, 
 
 WHOM I REGABD AS A HUMAN BEING AND 
 BESPECT AS AN INDIVIDUAL, 
 
 THESE MINOR POEMS, 
 
 TRANSLATED AT HIS SUGGESTION, 
 
 ARE AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED. 
 
 M. A. EL 
 
PREFATORY TO SMALLER POEMS. 
 
 THE POEMS which follow are added, not by reason of 
 their supposed superiority to other works of a similar 
 character within the range of Feejee literature, but 
 because, like the "Song of Milkanwatha," they so 
 nearly resemble familiar productions by distinguished 
 authors. 
 
 This resemblance the reader can hardly fail to 
 recognize, since, in some minds it has laid the founda 
 tion of a belief, that many poems, hitherto regarded as 
 the legitimate progeny of the English muse, are, after 
 all, nothing more than parodies upon Feejee originals ; 
 a theory which we might less emphatically reject, did 
 not the reputation of the authors in question, forbid us 
 to harbor, for one moment, the suspicion that they could 
 descend from their high position as men and poets to 
 
90 PREFATORY. 
 
 attack a struggling literature like the Feejee, with a 
 weapon so unworthy of their powers as the Parody so 
 universally condemned by the rules of the literary 
 1 service. 
 
 Beyond the desire, therefore, of pointing out these 
 new curiosities of literature, the translator has no wish to 
 say aught that might subject the writings of either 
 language to unfair comparison with those of the other. 
 He is too jealous of the interests of English literature, to 
 institute an inquiry which might depreciate the merits 
 of the gifted few whom the world has ever delighted to 
 honor, and he should go down to a speedy and uneasy 
 grave, were he conscious of having torn a sprig from the 
 laurel wreath that binds the brow of a single one of the 
 sweet singers of England or America. 
 
 That they may see for themselves however, the 
 likeness referred to, the translator lays before his readers 
 the Feejee ballads, and side by side with them the 
 opening lines of their English parallelograplis, (if the use 
 of such a word may be allowed,) believing that, awakened 
 by such familiar tones, the remaining verses will flutter 
 lightly forth from their nesting-place in the memory and 
 heart. 
 
91 
 
 THE CIGAR-SMOKERS. 
 
 " COURAGE! he said, and pointed towards the land ; 
 
 This mounting wave will roll UH phoreward soon. 
 In the afternoon they came unto a land 
 In which it seemed always afternoon." 
 
 THE LOTOS-EATERS Alfred Tennyson. 
 
 I. 
 
 "LAND ho! " he cried, "I see it now," says 
 
 he, 
 
 "This jolly breeze will fetch us soon to land." 
 Towards night they got there, time for early 
 
 tea, 
 A land where tea seemed ever smoking hot to 
 
 stand. 
 
 Thick clouds of smoke, by sleepy breezes 
 fanned, 
 
ADDITIONAL POEMS. 
 
 Twined, serpent like, o er all, in curves and 
 
 twists ; 
 The setting sun glared red and angry, close 
 
 at hand, 
 
 And from his steaming brow fell off the mists, 
 As falls the sweat from boxers, boxing with their 
 
 fists. 
 
 n. 
 
 A land of smokers ! smoking fast were some, 
 Quick, restless puffers wand ring to and fro ; 
 And some, with drowsy eyes and senses 
 
 dumb, 
 
 Rolled heavy smoke-clouds very long and slow. 
 The strangers saw the smokers come and go 
 Along the shore, in groups of eight and some 
 times ten, 
 From somewhere up above to somewhere 
 
 down below; 
 
 Strange, dingy faces, strongly-perfumed men, 
 Smelling as husbands when their wives ask, 
 where they ve been. 
 
THE CIGAli-SMOKEKS. 93 
 
 III. 
 
 The sun went out, the moon began to rise, 
 But could not shine ; smoke rests on everything 
 
 And closes o er the sea ; the hum of flies 
 Is heard afar, and vast musquitoes sing, 
 
 Who buzz and nearer buzz, then light and 
 
 sting ; 
 
 A place where all things always sleepy feel ! 
 And round about and in and out, on odorous 
 
 wing, 
 
 With faces like an owl, and tail unlike an eel, 
 The red-eyed ghosts of old Tobacco -smokers 
 steal. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Great leaves of that disgusting weed they 
 
 brought, 
 
 And some chopped fine to chew, and also snuff, 
 Whereof they gave to each, but who once 
 
 caught 
 The taste, from him the strangely-smelling stuff 
 
94 ADDITIONAL POEMS. 
 
 Took all good sense, nor said he ever, " hold ! 
 
 enough ;" 
 
 The ocean s voice he heard as tho it spake 
 To some one else ; his own grew thick and 
 
 gruff, 
 
 And half asleep and scarcely half awake, 
 An everlasting puffing, puffing he did make. 
 
 They sat them down upon the dingy shore, 
 Betwixt the moonlight and the moonlight s ray, 
 And closed their eyes with heavy eyelids o er, 
 And saw the " old folks " faces far " at home" 
 
 away; 
 
 But dark and dismal seemed the tossing bay, 
 Dismal the hammock s swing, the boatswain s 
 
 cry. 
 
 Then one man said, "We won t go home, to 
 day ! " 
 
 And all at once chimed in, " Agreed say I ; 
 Let s all together not go home till by-and-by!" 
 
THE CIGAR-SMOKERS. 95 
 
 CHORIC SONG. 
 I. 
 
 There s sweet tobacco here, of every kind, 
 Sweeter than honey in the hollow tree, 
 
 Or sugar in the sugar-cane, you ll find, 
 Or dew-drop in the hollyhock can be ; 
 
 Cigars whose smoke floats lightly round the 
 
 As round the buttercup the butterfly ; 
 
 Cigars that one would die to smoke, then 
 
 smoke to die ! 
 Here lie long-nines beside, 
 And plugs no teeth have ever tried, 
 And all the earth is snuff too, far and wide, 
 And in the craggy rocks the cigarettos hide ! 
 
 n. 
 
 Why leave dry land to sail on boiling water ? 
 Why make our short lives, any longer, shorter 
 By still debating, while the minutes flee ? 
 
96 ADDITIONAL POEMS. 
 
 All folks smoke here; why only smoke not 
 we ? 
 
 We who have smoked vile smoke as e er was 
 
 known, 
 And chewed vile chews on land and sea, 
 
 Still from a bad one to a worse one thrown ! 
 Nor ever end our woes, 
 By snuffing up the nose, 
 
 Nor yield our senses to the potent spell ; 
 Nor hearken to the song that o er us goes; 
 
 "No joy that tongue can tell 
 Is like what enters thro the avenue of smell !" 
 
 in. 
 
 Hateful is the pea-green sky, 
 Hanging o er the pea -green sea 
 
 Life ends in smoke, oh ! why 
 Should life all labor be ? 
 
 Let us alone. We do not want to go ! 
 Since life s a vapor, smoke it all away! 
 
 Let us alone. We have no strength to row, 
 
THE CIGAK-SMOKEKS. 97 
 
 We won^t attempt it, anyhow, to-day. 
 Let us alone. What fun can sailors find 
 In climbing up a wave, and down behind ? 
 All folks have rest excepting only tars, 
 Their work is always of the endless kind; 
 Give us a smoke or sleep, sound sleep or 
 good cigars ! 
 
 IV. 
 
 How sweet it were, seeing the rising fog, 
 With half-cigar and half a smile, 
 Dozing in a half-and-half the while, 
 To dream and dream like yonder aged frog, 
 Which only leaves his hole, the smoky log, 
 To muse amid abandoned stumps near by ; 
 Chewing Tobacco, here to lie 
 And see the waves rush up, our joy to share, 
 Clutching with eager arms the vacant air. 
 To grasp the sweets the scented breezes bear ; 
 To give our minds up to it wholly, 
 
 To chase away blue-thoughted melancholy, 
 5 
 
98 ADDITIONAL POEMS. 
 
 To put rich flavor-oils, antique fine-cut tobacco, 
 Into these pipes by steady use grown blacker ; 
 Pressed down with thumb to make it stay ; 
 Two pinches of black dust shut in a bowl of 
 
 clay. 
 
 v. 
 
 Our wives and children are at home, tis true; 
 But we can do without them, I and you ; 
 All things have undergone a change back 
 
 there ; 
 Our babes climb other knees ; our shirts new 
 
 husbands wear ! 
 
 They would not know us now, so dirty grown: 
 So strong we smell they d slam the angry 
 
 door, 
 Thinking our souls upon the wings of smoke 
 
 had flown, 
 
 Been puffed away upon this dingy shore, 
 Leaving behind the wasted stumps alone, 
 Fit on the ash-pile only to be thrown. 
 Let what is, be as tis, of course ; 
 
THE CIGAR-SMOKERS. 99 
 
 A wife is hard to reconcile ; 
 
 "We might be driven out by force ; 
 
 Tis hard to fix things, when they ve run awhile; 
 
 Twould be at best our labor for our pains ; 
 
 He gains but little who a woman gains : 
 
 Sad work, for hearts worn out with household 
 
 noise, 
 And arms grown lame long since with nursing 
 
 baby-boys ! 
 
 VI. 
 
 Tobacco-posies blossom high and low ; 
 Tobacco-posies bloom where er you go ; 
 All day the breezes from the ocean dipping, 
 O er hill and vale, on tireless tiptoe tripping, 
 Up and down the sandy beach the dust of the 
 
 Tobacco blow. 
 
 We have done enough of rolling and of pitch 
 ing, O ! 
 
 Up the foremast, up the hindmast, in the musty 
 hold below, 
 
100 ADDITIONAL POEMS. 
 
 While the bellowing boatswain shouted his 
 
 eternal " Yo heave, ho ! " 
 Let us take an oath and keep it, with an open eye, 
 In the land of the Tobacco still to live and lie, 
 On the bank, like pigs together, you and also I ; 
 For they lie beside each other, and the slops 
 
 are hurled 
 All around them in the gutter, while their tails 
 
 are tightly curled 
 All around them glad and happy, in a glad and 
 
 happy world ; 
 There they smile in comfort, dreaming over 
 
 future joys, 
 Dreading neither thirst nor hunger, sun nor 
 
 storm, nor roaring noise, 
 Swearing men, nor scolding women, barking 
 
 dogs, nor tyrant boys. 
 But they smile, they smell a prospect of a 
 
 dinner by-and-by, 
 Steaming up, a preparation making in the 
 
 kitchens nigh, . 
 
THE CIGAR-SMOKERS. 101 
 
 And their tail is full of meaning when it s 
 
 curled so high ! - 
 But the luckless race of hum6n labor* fbr their 
 
 life, 
 Plant and dig and raise potatoes, mostly keep 
 
 a wife ; 
 Wife who scolds them late and early, more than 
 
 one would think, 
 Till they lose their senses nearly some, tis 
 
 whispered, take to drink 
 Swigging endless potions others in Tobacco 
 
 islands dwell, 
 Besting weary legs, at last, on beds of ass- 
 
 foodel. 
 Surely, surely, smoking is more nice than not 
 
 the chew, 
 Than life upon the great big ocean, with so 
 
 much work to do ; 
 Oh ! bless you, brothers, yes of course, we ll 
 
 stay here, I and you ! 
 
102 
 
 BY THE KAIL-ROAD TRACK. 
 
 "By the rolling waves I roam, 
 
 And look along the sea, 
 And dream of the day and the gleaming sails, 
 r re-. That bore my love from me." 
 
 R. H. STODDAED 
 
 BY the rail-road track I stand, 
 
 A-looking sadly down, 
 And think of the cars and the locomo- 
 
 Tive took my girl to town. 
 
 Her dog now barks in Boston streets. 
 
 At every Boston man, 
 But her thoughts, like sparks, fly back to me, 
 
 Twixt Salem and Cape Ann. 
 
BY THE RAIL-ROAD TRACK. 103 
 
 Nor will she remain, when she has done 
 
 Her shopping down below, 
 But hurry and come as quick as you can, 
 
 There are other girls, you know. 
 
 The localities referred to in the song, bear the same relative position, 
 one to another, as Boston, Salem, and Cape Ann; and these names are 
 therefore adopted for the convenience of the reader. 
 
 There are two railways in Chawamanup, differing from those in use in 
 other countries in many particulars. The motive power is quicksilver, 
 instead of steam, and the cars run upon pulleys, instead of wheels ; the 
 track being elevated in the air upon tressel work, and the trains sus 
 pended therefrom. The loss of life upon roads constructed after this 
 manner, is of course slight. Ten miles per day is the greatest attainable 
 speed. 
 
104 
 
 THE APPLE AND THE REMARK. 
 
 " I shot an arrow into the air, 
 It fell to earth, I knew not where ; 
 For so swiftly it flew, the sight 
 Could not follow it in its flight," 
 
 THE AEROW AND THE SONG. 
 
 Longfellow. 
 
 I THREW an apple over the wall, 
 It dropped, I knew not where at all ; 
 For I threw with my utmost force, 
 And couldn t see thro the wall, of course. 
 
 I made a remark by the wall, 
 
 I saw no man near by at all ; 
 
 But whose eyesight so sharp can be, 
 
 But a person might hide behind a tree ? 
 
THE APPLE AND THE REMARK. 105 
 
 Not six months after that, I found 
 Th identical apple, on the ground ; 
 And a year ago in Jackson park,* 
 I heard a man make the same remark. 
 
 A favorite promenade on the island. 
 
106 
 
 THE WHISTLER S TUNE. 
 
 "The rain had fallen, the Poet arose, 
 He passed by the town, and out of the street, 
 
 A light wind blew from the gates of the sun, 
 And waves of shadow went over the wheat." 
 
 " THE POET S SOJJG." Alfred Tennyson, 
 
 THE tea was over, the Boy went out, 
 
 He passed thro the yard, and over the stile, 
 The big dog barked, as he went along by, 
 
 And followed him on for nearly a mile ; 
 And he sat him down on a hickory log, 
 
 And whistled a lively tune, this Boy, 
 That took the ear of the barking dog, 
 
 And he wagged his tail for joy. 
 
THE WHISTLER S TUNE. 
 
 107 
 
 The beetle stopt from pinching the fly, 
 
 The toad in his hole stood still, 
 The torn-tit heard with a tear in his eye, 
 
 And a fishing-worm in his bill, 
 And the grasshopper said, " I know that air, 
 
 But I cannot whistle it so 
 The tune of the man with never a hair, 
 
 Where hair ought ever to grow." 
 
108 
 
 MY MAYR1A. 
 
 ft Along the grassy slope I sit, 
 
 And dream of other years ; 
 My heart is full of soft regrets, 
 
 Mine eyes, of tender tears." R. H. STODDAKD. 
 
 ALONG the garden wall I stretch, 
 And think of what she said, 
 
 A tear has settled in my eye, 
 A cold within my head. 
 
 The fire-flies fired above our heads, 
 The crickets cricked below, 
 
 When my Mayria, and I near by her, 
 Sat here a week ago. 
 
MY MAYBIA. 109 
 
 The same sad cold was in my head, 
 
 But no tear on the lid, 
 And now Mayria has been, and gone, 
 
 And left me as she did. 
 
 I stretch alone, and only hear 
 
 The fire-flies ram the wad, 
 And crickets cricking in lonely fields, 
 
 Far off in the land of Nod. 
 
110 
 
 COME ON! NO, GO! 
 
 " I walked beside the evening sea, 
 And dreamed a dream that could not be t 
 The waves that plunged along the shore, 
 Said only, Dreamer, dream no more. " 
 
 " EBB AND FLOW " Geo. W. Curtit. 
 
 I WENT to wade a brook last year, 
 And heard a sound one could not hear, 
 The water round a splashing made, 
 Remarking, u Wader, don t you wade I " 
 
 I rolled my pantaloons up high. 
 Resolved to get across or die, 
 And now the voice was changed, I found, 
 " Come on, come on !" it seemed to sound. 
 
COME ON ! NO, GO ! Ill 
 
 Homeward I ran, and went up stairs, 
 That noise I heard not anywheres, 
 But when I came to go to bed, 
 TVas ringing, somewhere, in my head. 
 
 I ll tell you what it was, my dear, 
 A flea had flown inside my ear, 
 And drummed upon the drum, there, so, 
 It sounded like, " Come on 1 no, go I" 
 
112 
 
 THE FEEJEE GIRL. 
 
 * * Give, oh give us English welcomes, 
 
 We ll forgive the English skies; 
 
 English homes and English manners, 
 
 And the light of English eyes." 
 
 "THE ENGLISH GIRL." Chas. Mackay. 
 
 GIVE, oh ! give us Feejee virtues, 
 
 "We won t mind the Feejee sins ; 
 Feejee wigs and Feejee wigwams, 
 
 And the lovely Feejee grins. 
 Give us! for our chiefs in battle, 
 
 Feejee sons of Feejee sires, 
 And for wives, fat Feejee females, 
 
 With their noses full of wires. 
 
THE FEEJEE GIRL. 113 
 
 Other tastes, perhaps, may prefer 
 
 Folks who never feed on men, 
 But, who sees a Feejee sandwich 
 
 Eeady fixed, and says so then ? 
 "Who sits down to Feejee banquets, 
 
 When the thing is served up nice, 
 And, if asked if he will have some, 
 
 Doesn t take a second slice ? 
 
 Spicy are the girls of Java, 
 
 Oily are the girls of Wales, 
 Turks, Norwegians, English, Hindoos, 
 
 Have their merits use their nails 
 But for eyes of watery yellow, 
 
 Puffy lips, and cheeks, and that, 
 Give to us the girls of Feejee, 
 
 Fattest of aesthetic fat. 
 
SELECTIONS FROM "MAWDE." 
 
 I. 
 
 1. 
 HAVE I been asleep, do you s pose, 
 
 Eight here, I can t tell how? 
 "Was I in a sort of a doze, 
 
 While lying here just now ? 
 
 2. 
 Boys were laughing together, 
 
 Laughing and talking of me ; 
 "Well, I guess if it s him, it s him, 
 
 And if not, why who can it be ?" 
 
 3. 
 
 Is it a shadow of something 
 Seen with a ghastly smile, 
 
115 
 
 Savages grinning together 
 Upon a Cannibal isle ? 
 
 4. 
 
 Queer, that I hear two boys, 
 Somewhere, talking of me, 
 
 "Well, I guess if it s him, it s him, 
 And if not, why who can it be !" 
 
 II. 
 
 Go not, Sara-jane, 
 
 From this place and me, 
 Go not, Sara-jane, 
 
 Not till after tea. 
 Tis n t dark, you know, 
 
 Tisn t dark till eight, 
 Tis n t dark until 
 
 Seven, at any rate. 
 If the happy Yes, 
 
 You will only say, 
 I ll tell Antso-phia, 
 
 You re going to stay ; 
 Going to stay an hour. 
 
116 ADDITIONAL POEMS. 
 
 Going to stay till dusk, 
 Stay and drink some tea, 
 
 Stay and eat some rusk. 
 I ll tell Antso-phia, 
 
 Tell her quick as look, 
 And then, Antso-phia, 
 
 She will tell the cook ; 
 Tell the cook the fact, 
 
 Tell her how t will be, 
 Tell her bake the rusk, 
 
 Tell her make the tea. 
 Go not, Sara-jane, 
 
 Oh no, Sara, wait, 
 Stay, oh Jane, till seven, 
 
 Sara-jane, till eight. 
 
 III. 
 1. 
 
 Come out in the garden, Jane, 
 
 For the black bear, night, has run, 
 Come out in the garden, Jane, 
 It g time the party was done ; 
 
SELECTIONS FROM U MAWDE." 117 
 
 And the chickens commence to cackle again, 
 And the cocks crow one by one. 
 
 2. 
 For a breeze begins to blow, 
 
 And the planet of Jupiter, he, 
 Grows shaky and pale as the dawn, you know, 
 
 Comes striding over the sea, 
 Grows pale as the dawn keeps coming, you know, 
 
 Grows paler and paler to be. 
 
 3. 
 All night have the tulips shaked 
 
 At the noise of the fiddle and drum ; 
 All night has the trumpet-vine quivered and 
 
 quaked, 
 
 As the sounds of the dancing come ; 
 Till chickens and cocks in the hen-roost waked, 
 And they stopt the fiddle and drum. 
 
 4. 
 
 I said to the tulip, " It s I," says I, 
 " Whom she likes best of them all ; 
 
118 ADDITIONAL POEMS. 
 
 When will they let her alone," says I, 
 "She s tired, I know, of the ball. 
 
 Now part of the folks have said Good-bye, 
 And part are there in the hall, 
 
 They 11 all be off, directly," says I, 
 " And then I m over the wall." 
 
 5. 
 I said to the pink, " Nigh over, I think, 
 
 The dancing and glancing and fun : 
 O young Lloyd Lever, your hopes will sink, 
 
 "When you find the charmer is won ; 
 We re one, we re one," I remarked to the pink, 
 
 "In spirit, already, one." 
 
 6. 
 And the red of the pink went into my face, 
 
 As I thought of your sweet, "I will ;" 
 And long I stood in that slippery place, 
 
 For I heard our waterfall spill, 
 Spill over the rocks and run on in the race. 
 
 The mill -race down by the mill ; 
 
lit) 
 
 From the tree where I feebly stated my case, 
 To the fence where you answered, "I will. 5 
 
 7. 
 The drowsy buttercup went to bed, 
 
 Nor left a lock of her hair ; 
 The great sunflower, he nodded his head, 
 
 And the poppy snored in his chair ; 
 But the pink wasn t sleepy at all, she said, 
 
 Wishing my pleasure to share, 
 No tulip nor pink of them cared for bed, 
 
 They knew I expected you there. 
 
 8. 
 Queen pink of the feminine pinks, in there, 
 
 Come out in the garden to me, 
 In the velvet basque silk-lined you wear, 
 
 Queen pink and tulip you be ; 
 Bob out, little face, running over with hair, 
 
 And let the hollyhocks see. 
 
 9. 
 Is that the marigold s laugh I hear, 
 
 Or the sound of her foot as t fell ? 
 
120 ADDITIONAL POEMS. 
 
 She is coming, my duck, my dear ; 
 
 She is coming my bird, my belle ; 
 The blood-pink cries, "She is near, she is near," 
 
 And the pale-pink sobs, " Do tell ; " 
 The snap-dragon says, u D you see her, d you 
 see her ?" 
 
 And the tulip "There by the well !" 
 
 10. 
 She is coming, my joy, my pet ; 
 
 Let her trip it, soft as she chose, 
 My pulses would livelier get, 
 
 Were I. dying under the rose ; 
 My blood flow rapider yet, 
 
 Were I buried down under the rose ; 
 Would start and tricfcle out ruby and wet, 
 
 And bubble wherever she goes. 
 
121 
 
 BROWN AND I. 
 
 " Cleon hath a million acres, 
 Ne er a one have I ; 
 
 " CLEOX AND i." C7wis. Mac7>ay. 
 
 BROWN, has pockets running over, 
 Ne er a dime have I ; 
 Brown, he has a wife and children, 
 Bachelor am I ; 
 
 Brown, he has a dozen servants, 
 One of em am I ; 
 Yet the poorest of us couple 
 S Brown, I ll tell you why. 
 
 Brown, t is true, possesseth dollars, 
 All creation I ; 
 And the income that it gives me, 
 
 - Lieth in my eye ; 
 6 
 
122 ADDITIONAL POEMS. 
 
 Brown, he is a sleepy fellow, 
 Wide awake am I ; 
 He in broadcloth, I in tow-cloth, 
 Handsomest am I. 
 
 Brown, his wife, she often snubs him, 
 Out of that am I; 
 Brown, he has to rock the cradle, 
 Not a nurse am I ; 
 Wife-encompassed, baby-pinioned, 
 Brown he cannot fly ; 
 Brown may drop in any morning (?) 
 Finding only I. 
 
 Brown has had no education, 
 Mine you couldn t buy ; 
 He don t know they call him "ninkum," 
 I assert it, I ; 
 
 Brown, I tell you, you re a ninkum, 
 Ninkum you will die ; 
 Who speaks first, to change conditions ? 
 I declare it s I. 
 
123 
 
 THE CREEK 
 
 (AN IDYDL.) 
 
 * Here, by this brook, we parted ; I_to th East, 
 And he for Italy too late too late." 
 
 " THE BROOK" Alf, Tennyson. 
 
 HERE, by this log. we shook Good-bye; for 
 good; 
 
 1 starting home, and he for Borneo, 
 
 With one lung left, and that one tubercled ; 
 
 Poor boy poor boy ; fonder of making rhymes 
 
 Than. money he, and loving verses bet- 
 
 Ter far than better things ; he ne er could see 
 
 How money grew ; it sprouted not, he knew, 
 
 ISTor had it seed ; how strange, he often said 5 
 
 Yet he himself made verses out of naught 
 
 But air. Oh, would he d lived ! In history 
 
 We read, how empires reach a glorious height, 
 
124 ADDITIONAL POEMS. 
 
 And afterwards decline; but otherwise 
 It was with him ; he never rose to fame 
 But afterwards, or rather previously, 
 Declined ; he never rose to glory, but 
 Skipped, as t were, from where he should have 
 
 risen, 
 
 To where he fell ; he lived before he died, 
 Yet died before he lived, and went to seed. 
 Too late to save the final lung, he left 
 For Borneo ; and yet this stream of which 
 He was so special fond, to me doth seem, 
 Of him to me this present hour to chat, 
 To me, of him especial fond, to chat, 
 For, "O thou creek," he said, " O, run 
 ning creek," 
 Said Wilkins in his rhyme, " whence flow st 
 
 thou ? where 1 
 Why flow st thou ? whither ? " and the creek, 
 
 why should 
 A running creek do otherwise ? replies : 
 
THE CREEK. 125 
 
 I flow from places up above, 
 
 I spring from out a valley ; 
 And then run down you know, my love, 
 
 Eun down continu-ally. 
 
 By twenty hills I hurry down, 
 And over twenty ripples ; 
 
 By sixty trees, a smallish town 
 Of say a hundred peoples, 
 
 Till, finally, it happens so, 
 I reach the farm of Dolly ; 
 
 For men go up and downward go, 
 But I go downward alway. 
 
 Poor Wilkins on his way to Borneo, 
 At Botany -Bay, he died. Observe the bridge, 
 "Weaklier than twas ; the mill-dam there; 
 Here Dolly s farm, referred to in the verse. 
 
126 ADDITIONAL POEMS. 
 
 I chuckle over stones and sticks, 
 
 I laugh and gossip often ; 
 I whistle into bays and creeks, 
 
 I hurry down a-coughing. 
 
 Bound many capes, of many shapes, 
 
 By hook and crook I travel ; 
 And under stones my current creeps, 
 
 And over sand and gravel. 
 
 I keep it up, while running down 
 
 Towards the farm of Dolly ; 
 For men go up and men go down, 
 
 But I go downward alway. 
 
 But Dolly chattered more than babbling creeks ; 
 Old Dolly ; wheresoe er you went she was ; 
 And where she went, her tongue went always 
 
 too, 
 As tiresome as a spinster katy-did. 
 
 
THE CREEK. 127 
 
 My current wriggles very fast, 
 "With bubbles floating in it ; 
 
 And now a spider swimmeth past, 
 Or stops to breathe a minute; 
 
 And now comes sailing down a stick, 
 And now, perhaps, a clover ; 
 
 And then the clover hits the stick, 
 And both go rolling over ; 
 
 And yet I never stop, you know, 
 
 But hasten down to Dolly, 
 For men go up and downward go, 
 
 But I go downward alway. 
 
 O Daisy Peters, niece of Dolly, though ! 
 A female of this age, yet not insane ; 
 A native of our clime, and yet as good 
 As foreign born ; straight as a pine tree as 
 A willow slim ; with violet eyes, and hair 
 
128 ADDITIONAL POEMS. 
 
 A bright and cheerful sort of reddish brown, 
 The hue of birch bark on the under side. 
 
 Dear Daisy ! well, I help d her much one time, 
 Her and the youth whom she had promised to 
 Be his, tho not to change her name, because 
 The man was Tobee Peters, cousin he 
 Upon her father s side ; and so her name 
 Continued Peters, still, you understand. 
 T was thirty years ago, or nigh to that, 
 And pretty hard upon the mournful time, 
 When I and Wilkins separated here ; 
 I came across the bridge t was shaky then, 
 As now much more, curving across the face 
 Of Nature, like an ancient Roman nose 
 I came across it, whistling " Scots wha ha e," 
 And whittling on a shingle, nothing much, 
 T was quite a habit then I had, and kicked 
 At Dolly s stable gate. T was out of fix 
 Some way, and Dolly, hearing how it squeaked, 
 Shrieked out, " You Daisy, run !" but that she 
 could 
 
THE CREEK. 129 
 
 N t do : her weight was close to twenty stone : 
 And so she waddled out towards the barn, 
 And. met me there, quite flustered, I observed, 
 And moist about the eyes ; a little dcwny, 
 So to speak, and red as bashful peach. 
 
 What was it ? something, sure, was in the wind 
 
 Because she wasn t downy, in the sense 
 
 I mean, at usual times, nor often let 
 
 A little sorrow, from her heart s deep well, 
 
 Draw up the bucket of unpleasant tears. 
 
 She told me what. They d fallen out, herself 
 And Tobee. " What about ? How came it so?" 
 " Oh 1 nothing much," she said ; "Tobee was 
 
 sort 
 
 Of well, she knew not what, and she had said 
 Something, she knew not how, or why, or when, 
 Which, some way, made the well, had kind 
 
 of placed 
 6* 
 
130 ADDITIONAL POEMS. 
 
 Them thus." " Who did it first ?" She " rather 
 
 thought 
 
 T was him or her or neither first, perhaps, 
 Things somehow seemed to !" Here her tears 
 
 burst forth, 
 
 And swept her choking, struggling words, afar 
 Beyond the harbor of my open ear. 
 " Why don t he come ? says I. " He will," 
 
 says she, 
 " That s what he wants," says she. u Well, 
 
 what," says I, 
 " Prevents ?" " Her aunt kept talking so," she 
 
 said, 
 
 " He couldn t get to say beyond a word, 
 But she would cut him short, and so he left, 
 Disgusted with her aunt and also her." 
 "Well, what can I do, then " says I. " Will 
 
 you ?" 
 Says she. " Do what ?" says I. " Converse 
 
 with aunt 
 For half an hour or so, till me and Wilk 
 
THE CREEK. 131 
 
 Make up ? " She looked so soft, I says, " Oh 
 
 yes !" 
 
 And ere I d finished saying Yes, he came 
 Across the lot, a-bobbing thro the corn. 
 
 So in I went and entered into talk 
 With Dolly, who was darning stockings there ; 
 Oh 1 how she rattled though, and made me go 
 And see her Christmas pig, and told me how 
 He grew a pound a day, until she feared 
 A rush of blood to head might take him off 
 Ere Christmas came ; and then her Shanghai 
 
 fowls ; 
 And measured one great rooster s legs four 
 
 times, 
 To prove t was eighteen inches long, which 
 
 t was, 
 
 Pulling a feather from his tail besides, 
 For me to carry to my youngest child : 
 She showed me, next, her cow ; and then began 
 And told me how old farmer Huff had tried 
 To buy a cow, the dam of this, one time, 
 
132 ADDITIONAL POEMS. 
 
 But she knew farmer Huff, and wouldn t sell, 
 For twice the sum ; he called her crazy too, 
 But she knew what it ought to bring, and he 
 Came after, twice, to offer more, in rain, 
 For she knew what a cow like that would bring, 
 And wouldn t be imposed by Huff at all ; 
 And so she stuck ; until one day, t was March, 
 She said let see yes, sixth of March he came, 
 A Friday t was and took the old cow home 
 At her own price ; just as she d said he would, 
 For she knew him, and what a cow like that 
 Had ought to bring ; it wasn t such a cow 
 As grew on every bush, she knew of that. 
 And when I thought she d done, she off 
 
 again, 
 
 And told me how this present cow gave more 
 Than two pints more than her and how she 
 
 thought 
 
 T would be as much as nigh a quart in June 
 Until I felt as if she d drive me mad, 
 And said I must go home ; and so we turned 
 
THE CREEK. 133 
 
 And entered back, as Wilk and Daisy came 
 In front, their little matters all arranged, 
 As full of smiles as Dolly s cow of milk, 
 Talking and laughing like the babbling creek. 
 
 I sweep around the mossy rocks, 
 I slip beneath the rushes, 
 
 I whisper to the hollyhocks 
 That doze among the bushes. 
 
 I hop, I glide, I pop, I slide, 
 From unexpected places, 
 
 I make the bullfrogs blush and hide 
 To see their homely faces. 
 
 Through March and April, May, July, 
 June. August and September, 
 
 October and November, I 
 Run on, until December ; 
 
134 ADDITIONAL POEMS. 
 
 From that till first of March again, 
 
 It s often on I m flowing, 
 And off and on I stop, and then 
 
 It s off and on I m going ; 
 
 And so, you know, I run and flow 
 With many a whirl and eddy, 
 
 While men go up and down they go, 
 I go down always steady. 
 
 Yes 1 that is true ; men have their ups and 
 
 downs, 
 
 And likewise I ; my friends have disappeared. 
 In Botany-Bay doth Wilkins sleep, beside 
 The rushing waves of Swallawaggle s stream : 
 His grave th " obscure initials W. M " 
 Doth bear ; I saw ; Dolly s swift tongue is tied 
 By hand of Death ; and Daisy s tracks are found 
 Around the base of Popocatapetl, 
 Far from this isle ; yes, ne er a one is left. 
 
THE CREEK. 135 
 
 So Jabez Tomkin, sitting on a log, 
 "With one foot either side, did ruminate 
 Strange memories and stranger rhymes, mean 
 while, 
 
 Swift passing through his head deprived of hair, 
 When something like a puffing made him look; 
 And as he turned he saw a rosy lass 
 Climbing the fence ; greatly to his surprise ; 
 And she did blush exceeding much. Her eyes 
 Were violet, and her hair a reddish brown, 
 The hue of birch-bark on the under side ; 
 And Jabez, more and more surprised, inquired, 
 "Are you from yonder farm ?" " I be," says 
 
 she. 
 " Excuse me: stop, I beg; and what s your 
 
 name ?" 
 
 " Daisy." "Daisy ! that s singular," says he. 
 " What s t other ?" " Peters"" No !" " Oh 
 
 yes it be!" 
 
 "Don t say!" and then he looked so very 
 queer, 
 
136 ADDITIONAL POEMS. 
 
 That Daisy giggled, and directly he 
 
 Did also giggle, as t were in his sleep. 
 
 " You re much too fat, and red, and healthy- 
 
 like, 
 
 To be the ghost of Daisy Peters, here- 
 Abouts, nigh on to thirty years ago-! " 
 
 " Why don t you know ?" says Daisy, " lor, 
 
 how queer I 
 
 We ve come and took the farm again, you see, 
 Am I so like as that ? just what he said, 
 The stage man, coming down ! In case you 
 
 know 
 
 My ma, you d best go long, sir, now, with me. 
 Dick, he s gone down the lane to fetch the cow ; 
 But ma she s home, I know Walk in, 
 
 Walk in I" 
 
137 
 
 H I G II - E R . 
 
 THE shadows of night were coming down swift, 
 And the dazzling snow lay drift on drift, 
 As, thro a village, a youth did go, 
 A-carrying a flag, with this mot-to, 
 
 "HIGH-ER!" 
 
 O er a forehead high, curled copious hair ; 
 His nose a Roman, complexion fair; 
 O er an eagle-eye, hung an auburn lash, 
 And he ever shouted, thro his moustache, 
 
 " HIGH-ER!" 
 
 He saw thro windows, as he kept getting upper, 
 A number of families, sitting at supper, 
 
138 ADDITIONAL POEMS. 
 
 But he eyed the slippery rocks, very keen, 
 And fled, as he cried, and cried, while a-fleein , 
 
 " HIGH-ER ! " 
 
 "Take care, you there!" said an old woman, 
 
 " stop ! 
 
 It s blowing gales up there on top, 
 You 11 tumble off on the other side ! " 
 But the hurrying stranger loud replied; 
 
 "HiGH-ER!" 
 
 11 Oh don t go up, such a shocking night, 
 Come, sleep on my lap," said a maiden bright ; 
 On his Roman nose a tear-drop come, 
 But still he remarked, as upward he clomb, 
 
 "HIGH-ER!" 
 
 " Look out for the branch of that sycamore-tree ! 
 Dodge rolling stones, if any you see ! " 
 Saying which, the farmer went home to bed, 
 And the singular voice replied o er-head, 
 
 "HIGH-ER!" 
 
HIGHER. 139 
 
 About quarter past six, the next forenoon, 
 A man, accidentally, going up soon, 
 Heard spoken above him, as often as twice, 
 The very same words, in a rather weak voice, 
 
 "HIGH-ER!" 
 
 And not far, I think, from quarter of seven 
 He was slow getting up, the road being uneven, 
 Found the stranger dead, in the drifting snow, 
 Still clutching the flag, with the queer mot-to. 
 
 " HIGH-ER!" 
 
 Yes, lifeless, defunct, without any doubt, 
 The Lamp of his Being, decidedly out, 
 On the dreary hill-side, the youth was a-laying, 
 And there was no more use for him to be saying. 
 
 "HIGH-ER!" 
 
140 
 
 THOMAS TYTTE. 
 
 " Merrily swinging on brier and weed, 
 Near to the nest of his little dame, 
 Over the mountain-side or mead , 
 
 Robert of Lincoln is telling his name ; 
 
 Bob-o-link, bob-o-link, 
 Spink, spank, spink, 
 Snug and safe is that nest of ours, 
 Hidden among the summer flowers, 
 
 "Chee, chee, chee." 
 
 "ROBERT OF LINCOLN." 
 
 FLUTTERING nervously here and there, 
 Round his lady-bird, odd little elf, 
 Now on a gympsum-weed, now in the air, 
 Thomas Tytte is describing himself; 
 
 Tom-tit, torn-tit, 
 Spit, spat, spit ; 
 I and wife, in this here tree, 
 Live as jolly as ever you see, 
 
 Feedle, dee, dee. 
 
THOMAS TYTTE. 141 
 
 T. Tytte Esq. is drest in blue, 
 
 Like every other high-born tit, 
 With a yellow vest and choaker too, 
 
 You 11 hear him speak, if you listen a bit ; 
 
 Tom-tit, torn-tit, 
 Spit, spat, spit ; 
 
 Observe this coat and vest of mine ! 
 I m rather a buck in the torn-tit line. 
 
 Feedle, dee, dee. 
 
 The wife of Thomas, meek and brown, 
 
 A simple creature, afeard of boys, 
 Sits all day in a high-necked gown, 
 Laying eggs, without any noise ; 
 
 Tom-tit, torn-tit, 
 Spit, spat, spit ; 
 
 Lay on, my dear, nobody 11 come, 
 I m keeping watch in this old gum. 
 
 Feedle, dee, dee. 
 
142 -ADDITIONAL POEMS. 
 
 A very retiring female, she, 
 
 A pattern wife, the dame-tits say ; 
 Always blowing and bragging is he, 
 In the old, established masculine way.; 
 
 Tom-tit, torn-tit, 
 Spit, spat, spit ; 
 
 I m not the bird to run, that s clear, 
 I m too good pluck, you know, my dear, 
 
 Feedle, dee, dee. 
 
 Heigho ! look here ! two, four, six, eight, 
 
 Round and white remarkable eggsl 
 Mrs. Tytte watches em early and late, 
 
 While Thomas laughs, and is kicking his legs; 
 
 Tom-tit, torn-tit, 
 Spit, spat, spit; 
 
 Convenient wife, this Mrs. T., 
 For a lie-around, fly-around fellow like me, 
 
 Feedle, dee, dee. 
 
THOMAS TYTTE. 14:3 
 
 The eggs are chipped, and eight small tits, 
 (The number of eggs) creep cautiously thro ; 
 
 Thomas, driven half out of his wits, 
 Scratches his poll to know what to do ; 
 
 Tom-tit, torn-tit, 
 Spit, spat, spit ; 
 
 Trying thing, this, singular fate ! 
 
 Unusual number, certainly eight ! 
 
 Feedle, dee, dee. 
 
 T. Tytte, Esq., in a little while 
 
 Gets not as careful about his clothes, 
 
 Seems quite depressed, hath a sickly smile, 
 And singeth, mostly, through his nose ; 
 
 Tom-tit, torn-tit, 
 Spit, spat, spit ; 
 
 Exactly where the young ones be, 
 Nobody knows cept wife and me. 
 
 Feedle, dee, dee. 
 
144 ADDITIONAL POEMS. 
 
 Autumn comes; the tit-lets grow; 
 
 Thomas Tytte is a blockhead dunce ; 
 To foreign parts he s going to go, 
 
 And just as he starts, we cry all at once; 
 
 Tom-tit, torn-tit, 
 Spit, spat, spit, 
 
 If your voice comes back, and you re not shot, 
 Come back with it, Tom otherwise, not. 
 
 Feedle, dee, dee. 
 
 FINIS. 
 
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