UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
 AT LOS ANGELES 
 
 GIFT OF 
 
 C G De Garino
 
 A CHILD-WORLD
 
 Copyright 1896 
 
 by 
 James Whitcomb Rlley 
 
 Braunworth, Munn fef Barber 
 
 Printers and Binders 
 
 Brooklyn, N. Y.
 
 Ts 
 
 TO 
 
 MR. AND MRS. CHARLES L. HOLSTEIN 
 
 4GGG29
 
 A CHILD-WORLD
 
 "THE CHILD-WORLD long and long since lost to vitw 
 
 A Fairy Paradise! 
 How always fair it was and fresh and new 
 
 How every affluent hour heaped heart and eyes 
 With treasures of surprise ! 
 
 Enchantments tangible: The under-brink 
 
 Of dawns that launched the sight 
 
 Up seas of gold : The dewdrop on the pink, 
 
 With all the green earth in it and blue height 
 Of heavens infinite : 
 
 The liquid, dripping songs of orchard-birds 
 The wee bass of the bees, 
 
 With lucent deeps of silence afterwards ; 
 
 The gay, clandestine whisperings of the breeze 
 And glad leaves of the trees. 
 
 O Child-World: After this world just as when 
 I found you first sufficed 
 
 My soulmost need if I found you again, 
 With all my childish dream so realised, 
 I should not be surprised.
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 PROEM 
 
 THE CHILD-WORLD 17 
 
 THE OLD HOME FOLKS 26 
 
 ALMON KEEPER 50 
 
 NOEY BlXLER 56 
 
 "A NOTED TRAVELER" 66 
 
 A PROSPECTIVE VISIT 69 
 
 AT NOEY'S House 71
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 'THAT LITTLE Doa" 76 
 
 THE LOEHRS AND THE HAMMONDS 81 
 
 THE HIRED MAN AND FLORETTY 88 
 
 THE EVENING COMPANY 99 
 
 MAYMIE'S STORY OF RED RIDING HOOD 104 
 
 LIMITATIONS OF GENIUS 114 
 
 MR. HAMMOND'S PARABLE THE DREAMER n6 
 
 FLORETTY'S MUSICAL CONTRIBUTION 133 
 
 BUD'S FAIRY-TALE ' 130 
 
 A DELICIOUS INTERRUPTION 14J 
 
 NOEY'S NlGHT-PlBCB 145 
 
 COUSIN RUFUS' STORY 151 
 
 BEWILDERING EMOTIONS . z6x
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 ALEX TELLS A BEAR STORY 163 
 
 THE PATHOS OF APPLAUSE n 
 
 TOLD BY "THE NOTED TRAVELER" . . . . . .175 
 
 HEAT LIGHTNING 187 
 
 UNCLE MART'S POEM 191 
 
 LITTLE JACK JANITOR" 199 
 
 FINALE
 
 THE CHILD-WORLD 
 
 A CHILD-WORLD, yet a wondrous world no less, 
 
 To those who knew its boundless happiness. 
 A simple old frame house eight rooms in all 
 Set just one side the center of a small 
 But very hopeful Indiana town, 
 The upper-story looking squarely down 
 Upon the main street, and the main highway 
 From East to West, historic in its day, 
 Known as The National Road old-timers, all 
 Who linger yet, will happily recall 
 It as the scheme and handiwork, as well 
 As property, of " Uncle Sam," and tell 
 Of its importance, "long and long afore 
 Railroads wuz ever dreamp" 1 of! "Furthermore, 
 17
 
 A CHILD-WORLD 
 
 The reminiscent first inhabitants 
 Will make that old road blossom with romance 
 Of snowy caravans, in long parade 
 Of covered vehicles, of every grade 
 From ox-cart of most primitive design, 
 To Conestoga wagons, with their fine 
 Deep-chested six-horse teams, in heavy gear, 
 High hames and chiming bells to childish ear 
 And eye entrancing as the glittering train 
 Of some sun-smitten pageant of old Spain. 
 And, in like spirit, haply they will tell 
 Y*m of the roadside forests, and the yell 
 Of "wolfs" and "painters," in the long night-ride, 
 And "screechin* catamounts" on every side. 
 Of stagecoach-days, highwaymen, and strange crimes, 
 And yet unriddled mysteries of the times 
 Called "Good Old." "And why 'Good Old'?" once a rare 
 Old chronicler was asked, who brushed the hair 
 18
 
 THE OLD HOME 
 
 Out of his twinkling eyes and said, "Well John, 
 They're 'good old times' because they're dead and gone ! " 
 
 The old home site was portioned into three 
 
 Distinctive lots. The front one natively 
 
 Facing to southward, broad and gaudy-fine 
 
 With lilac, dahlia, rose, and flowering vine 
 
 The dwelling stood in ; and behind that, and 
 
 Upon the alley north and south, left hand, 
 
 The old wood-house, half, trimly stacked with wood, 
 
 And half, a work-shop, where a workbench stood 
 
 Steadfastly through all seasons. Over it, 
 
 Along the wall, hung compass, brace-and-bit, 
 
 And square, and drawing-knife, and smooth! ng-plane 
 
 And little jack-plane, too the children's vain 
 
 Possession by pretense in fancy they 
 
 Manipulating it in endless play,
 
 A CHILD-WORLD 
 
 Turning out countless curls and loops of bright, 
 
 Fine satin shavings Rapture infinite ! 
 
 Shelved quilting-frames ; the toolchest ; the old box 
 
 Of refuse nails and screws; a rough gun-stock's 
 
 Outline in "curly maple"; and a pair 
 
 Of clamps and old krout-cutter hanging there. 
 
 Some " patterns," in thin wood, of shield and scroll, 
 
 Hung higher, with a neat "cane-fishing-pole" 
 
 And careful tackle all securely out 
 
 Of reach of children, rummaging about. 
 
 Beside the wood-house, with broad branches free 
 
 Yet close above the roof, an apple-tree 
 
 Known as "The Prince's Harvest" Magic phrase! 
 
 That was a boy's own tree, in many ways! 
 
 Its girth and height meet both for the caress 
 
 Of his bare legs and his ambitiousness :
 
 A BOT'S OWN TREE 
 
 And then its apples, humoring his whim, 
 
 Seemed just to fairly hurry ripe for him 
 
 Even in June, impetuous as he, 
 
 They dropped to meet him, halfway up the tree. 
 
 And O their bruised sweet faces where they fell ! 
 
 And ho! the lips that feigned to "kiss them well"! 
 
 "The Old Sweet- Apple-Tree," a stalwart, stood 
 
 In fairly sympathetic neighborhood 
 
 Of this wild princeling with his early gold 
 
 To toss about so lavishly nor hold 
 
 In bounteous hoard to overbrim at once 
 
 All Nature's lap when came the Autumn months. 
 
 Under the spacious shade of this the eyes 
 
 Of swinging children saw swift-changing skies 
 
 Of blue and green, with sunshine shot between, 
 
 And "when the old cat died " they saw but green. 
 
 ai
 
 A CHILD-WORLD 
 
 And, then, there was a cherry-tree. -We all 
 And severally will yet recall 
 From our lost youth, in gentlest memory, 
 The blessed fact There was a cherry-tree. 
 
 There was a cherry-tree. Its bloomy snows 
 Cool even now the fevered sight that knows 
 No more its airy visions of pure joy- 
 As when you were a boy. 
 
 There was a cherry-tree. The Bluejay set 
 His blue against Its white O blue as jet 
 H seemed there then 1 But now Whoever knew 
 He was so pale a blue t 
 
 There was a cherry-tree Our child-eyes saw 
 The miracle: Its pure white snows did thaw 
 Into a crimson fruitage, far too sweet 
 But for a boy to eat 
 
 There was a cherry-tree, give thanks and Joy I 
 There was a bloom of snow There was a boy- 
 There was a Bluejay of the realest blue 
 And fruit for both of you.
 
 THE GARDEN AND THE MARTIN-BOX 
 
 Then the old garden, with the apple-trees 
 Grouped 'round the margin, and "a stand of bees" 
 By the "white-winter-pearmain"; and a row 
 Of currant-bushes; and a quince or so. 
 The old grape-arbor in the center, by 
 The pathway to the stable, with the sty 
 Behind it, and upon it, cootering flocks 
 Of pigeons, and the cutest "martin-box"! 
 Made like a sure-enough house with roof, and doors 
 And windows in it, and veranda-floors 
 And balusters all 'round it yes, and at 
 Each end a chimney painted red at that 
 And penciled white, to look like little bricks; 
 And, to cap all the builder's cunning tricks, 
 Two tiny little lightning-rods were run 
 Straight up their sides, and twinkled in the sun. 
 Who built it? Nay, no answer but a smile. 
 It may be you can guess who, afterwhild. 
 23
 
 A CHILD-WORLD 
 
 Home in his stall, " Old Sorrel " munched his hay 
 And oats and corn, and switched the flies away, 
 In a repose of patience good to see, 
 And earnest of the gentlest pedigree. 
 With half pathetic eye sometimes he gazed 
 Upon the gambols of a colt that grazed 
 Around the edges of the lot outside, 
 And kicked at nothing suddenly, and tried 
 To act grown-up and graceful and high-bred, 
 But dropped, k'whop! and scraped the buggy-shed, 
 Leaving a tuft of woolly, foxy hair 
 Under the sharp-end- of a gate-hinge there. 
 Then, all ignobly scrambling to his feet 
 And whinneying a whinney like a bleat, 
 He would pursue himself around the lot 
 And do the whole thing over, like as not! . . . 
 Ah ! what a life of constant fear and dread 
 And flop and squawk and flight the chickens led! 
 24
 
 THE LOVELY NEIGHBORHOOD. 
 
 Above the fences, either side, were seen 
 
 The neighbor-houses, set in plots of green 
 
 Dooryards and greener gardens, tree and wall 
 
 Alike whitewashed, and order in it all : 
 
 The scythe hooked in the tree-fork ; and the spade 
 
 And hoe and rake and shovel all, when laid 
 
 Aside, were in their places, ready for 
 
 The hand of either the possessor or 
 
 Of any neighbor, welcome to the loan 
 
 Of any tool he might not chance to own.
 
 THE OLD HOME FOLKS 
 
 OUCH was the Child-World of the long-ago 
 
 The little world these children used to know; 
 Johnty, the oldest, and the best, perhaps, 
 Of the five happy little Hoosier chaps 
 Inhabiting this wee world all their own. 
 Johnty, the leader, with his native tone 
 Of grave command a general on parade 
 Whose each punctilious order was obeyed 
 By his proud followers. 
 
 But Johnty yet- 
 After all serious duties could forget 
 The gravity of life to the extent, 
 At times, of kindling much astonishment 
 About him : With a quick, observant eye, 
 And mind and memory, he could supply 
 af
 
 AND HIS CONSCIENCE 
 
 The tamest incident with liveliest mirth ; 
 And at the most unlooked-for times on earth 
 Was wont to break into some travesty 
 On those around him feats of mimicry 
 Of this one's trick of gesture that one's walk 
 Or this one's laugh or that one's funny talk, 
 The way "the watermelon-man" would try 
 His humor on town-folks that wouldn't buy; 
 How he drove into town at morning then 
 At dusk (alas!) how he drove out again. 
 
 Though these divertisements of Johnty's were 
 Hailed with a hearty glee and relish, there 
 Appeared a sense, on his part, of regret 
 A spirit of remorse that would not let 
 Him rest for days thereafter. Such times he, 
 As some boy said, "jist got too overly
 
 A CHILD- WORLD. 
 
 Blame good fer common boys like us, you know, 
 To 'Delate with less'n we 'ud go 
 And jine his church ! " 
 
 Next after Johnty came 
 His little tow-head brother, Bud by name. 
 And O how white his hair was and how thick 
 His face with freckles, and his ears, how quick 
 And curious and intrusive ! And how pale 
 The blue of his big eyes; and how a tale 
 Of Giants, Trolls or Fairies, bulged them still 
 Bigger and bigger! and when "Jack" would kill 
 The old "Four-headed Giant," Bud's big eyes 
 Were swollen truly into giant-size. 
 And Bud was apt in make-believes would hear 
 His Grandma talk or read, with such an ear 
 And memory of both subject and big words, 
 That he would take the book up afterwards 
 28
 
 BUD AND THE SUPERLATIVE. 
 
 And feign to "read aloud," with such success 
 As caused his truthful elders real distress. 
 But he must have big words they seemed to give 
 Extremer range to the superlative 
 That was his passion. "My Gran'ma," he said, 
 One evening, after listening as she read 
 Some heavy old historical review 
 With copious explanations thereunto 
 Drawn out by his inquiring turn of mind, 
 " My Gran'ma she's read all books ever' kind 
 They is, 'at tells all 'bout the land an' sea 
 An' Nations of the Earth ! An' she is the 
 Historicul-est woman ever wuz ! " 
 (Forgive the verse's chuckling as it does 
 In its erratic current. Oftentimes 
 The little willowy waterbrook of rhymes 
 Must falter in its music, listening to 
 The children laughing as they used to do.) 
 29
 
 A CHILD-WORLD 
 
 Who shall sing a simple ditty all about the Willow. 
 
 Dainty-fine and delicate as any bending spray 
 That dandles high the happy bird that flutters there to trill a 
 
 Tremulously tender song of greeting to the May. 
 
 Ah, my lovely Willow! Let the Waters lilt your graces, 
 They alone with limpid kisses lave your leaves above. 
 
 Flashing back your sylvan beauty, and in shady places 
 Peering up with glimmering pebbles, like the eyes of love. 
 
 Next, Maymie, with her hazy cloud of hair, 
 And the blue skies of eyes beneath it there. 
 Her dignified and "little lady" airs 
 Of never either romping up the stairs 
 Or falling down them ; thoughtful everyway 
 Of others first The kind of child at play 
 That " gave up," for the rest, the ripest pear 
 Or peach or apple in the garden there 
 Beneath the trees where swooped the airy swing 
 She pushing it, too glad for anything! 
 3
 
 MATMIB AND ALEX 
 
 Or, in the character of hostess, she 
 Would entertain her friends delightfully 
 In her play-house, with strips of carpet laid 
 Along the garden-fence within the shade 
 Of the old apple-trees where from next yard 
 Came the two dearest friends in her regard, 
 The little Crawford girls, Ella and Lu 
 As shy and lovely as the lilies grew 
 In their idyllic home, yet sometimes they 
 Admitted Bud and Alex to their play, 
 Who did their heavier work and helped them fix 
 To have a "Festibul" and brought the bricks 
 And built the "stove," with a real fire and all, 
 And stovepipe-joint for chimney, looming tall 
 And wonderfully smoky even to 
 Their childish aspirations, as it blew 
 And swooped and swirled about them till their sight 
 Was feverish even as their high delight 
 31
 
 A CHILD-WORLD. 
 
 Then Alex, with his freckles, and his freaks 
 Of temper, and the peach-bloom of his cheeks, 
 And " amber-colored hair " his mother said 
 'Twas that, when others laughed and called it " 
 And Alex threw things at them till they'd call 
 A truce, agreeing " 't'uz n't red ut-talll" 
 
 But Alex was affectionate beyond 
 
 The average child, and was extremely fond 
 
 Of the paternal relatives of his 
 
 Of whom he once made estimate like this: 
 
 "/'* only got two brothers, but my Pa 
 
 He's got most brothers'n you ever saw! 
 
 He's got seben brothers ! Yes, an' they're all my 
 
 Seben Uncles! Uncle John, an' Jim, an' I* 
 
 Got Uncle George, an' Uncle Andy, too, 
 
 An' Uncle Frank, an' Uncle Joe. An' you
 
 LITTLE LIZZIE AND THE PARENTS 
 
 Know Uncle Mart. An', all but him, they're great 
 Big mens ! An' nen s Aunt Sarah she makes eight ! 
 I'm got eight uncles! 'cept Aunt Sarah can't 
 Be ist my uncle 'cause she's 1st my aunt!" 
 
 Then, next to Alex and the last indeed 
 
 Of these five little ones of whom you read 
 
 Was baby Lizzie, with her velvet lisp, 
 
 As though her Elfin lips had caught some wisp 
 
 Of floss between them as they strove with speech, 
 
 Which ever seemed just in yet out of reach 
 
 Though what her lips missed, her dark eyes could say 
 
 With looks that made her meaning clear as day. 
 
 And, knowing now the children, you must know 
 The father and the mother they loved so: 
 The father was a swarthy man, black-eyed, 
 Black-haired, and high of forehead ; and, beside 
 3 33
 
 A CHILD-WORLD 
 
 The slender little mother, seemed in truth 
 A very king of men since, from his youth, 
 To his hale manhood now (worthy as then, 
 A lawyer and a leading citizen 
 Of the proud little town and county-seat 
 His hopes his neighbors', and their fealty sweet) 
 He had known outdoor labor rain and shine 
 Bleak Winter, and bland Summer foul and fine. 
 So Nature had ennobled him and set 
 Her symbol on him like a coronet: 
 His lifted brow, and frank, reliant face. 
 Superior of stature as of grace, 
 Even the children by the spell were wrought 
 Up to heroics of their simple thought, 
 And saw him, trim of build, and lithe and straight 
 And tall, almost, as at the pasture-gate 
 The towering ironweed the scythe had spared 
 For their sakes, when The Hired Man declared 
 34
 
 THE GENTLE MOTHER 
 
 It would grow on till it became a tree, 
 With cocoanuts and monkeys in maybe! 
 
 Yet, though the children, in their pride and awe 
 
 And admiration of the father, saw 
 
 A being so exalted even more 
 
 Like adoration was the love they bore 
 
 The gentle mother. Her mild, plaintive face 
 
 Was purely fair, and haloed with a grace 
 
 And sweetness luminous when joy made glad 
 
 Her features with a smile ; or saintly sad 
 
 As twilight, fell the sympathetic gloom 
 
 Of any childish grief, or as a room 
 
 Were darkened suddenly, the curtain drawn 
 
 Across the window and the sunshine gone. 
 
 Her brow, below her fair hair's glimmering strands, 
 
 Seemed meetest resting-place for blessing hands 
 
 35
 
 A CHILD-WORLD 
 
 Or holiest touches of soft finger-tips 
 And little roseleaf-cheeks and dewy lips. 
 
 Though heavy household tasks were pitiless, 
 No little waist or coat or checkered dress 
 But knew her needle's deftness; and no skill 
 Matched hers in shaping pleat or flounce or frill; 
 Or fashioning, in complicate design, 
 All rich embroideries of leaf and vine, 
 With tiniest twining tendril, bud and bloom 
 And fruit, so like, one's fancy caught perfume 
 And dainty touch and taste of them, to see 
 Their semblance wrought in such rare verity. 
 
 Shrined in her sanctity of home and love, 
 And love's fond service and reward thereof, 
 Restore her thus, O blessed Memory! 
 Throned in her rocking-chair, and on her knee 
 36
 
 THE SILENT POEM 
 
 Her sewing her workbasket on the floor 
 Beside her, Springtime through the open door 
 Balmily stealing in and all about 
 The room ; the bees' dim hum, and the far shout 
 And laughter of the children at their play, 
 And neighbor-children from across the way 
 Calling in gleeful challenge save alone 
 One boy whose voice sends back no answering tone 
 The boy, prone on the floor, above a book 
 Of pictures, with a rapt, ecstatic look- 
 Even as the mother's, by the selfsame spell, 
 Is lifted, with a light ineffable 
 As though her senses caught no mortal cry, 
 But heard, instead, some poem going by. 
 
 The Child-heart is so strange a little thing 
 
 So mild so timorously shy and small, 
 When grown-up hearts throb, it goes scampering 
 
 Behind the wall, nor dares peer out at all 1 
 
 37
 
 A CHILD-WORLD 
 
 It is the veriest mouse 
 That hides in any house 
 So wild a little thing Is any Child-heart! 
 
 Child-heart I mild heart! 
 Ho, my little wild heart / 
 Come up here to me out o' the dark, 
 Or let me come to you! 
 
 So lorn at times the Child-heart needs must be. 
 
 With never one maturer heart for friend 
 And comrade, whose tear-ripened sympathy 
 And love might lend it comfort to the end, 
 Whose yearnings, aches and stings, 
 Over poor little things 
 Were pitiful as ever any Child-heart. 
 
 Child-heart I mild heart I 
 Ho, my little wild heart I 
 Come up here to me out o' the dark. 
 Or let me come to you I 
 
 Times, too, the little Child-heart must be glad- 
 Being so young, nor knowing, as we know. 
 
 The fact from fantasy, the good from bad, 
 The joy from woe, the all that hurts us Ml
 
 OLD SCENES AND SOUNDS 
 
 What wonder then that thus 
 It hides away from us? 
 So weak a little thing is any Child-heartl 
 
 Child-heart t mild heart / 
 Ho, my little wild heart 1 
 Come up here to me out o' the dark. 
 Or let me come to you! 
 
 Nay. little Child-heart, you have never need 
 To fear us; we are weaker far than you 
 'Tis we who should be fearful we indeed 
 Should hide us, too, as darkly as you do, 
 Safe, as yourself, withdrawn, 
 Hearing the World roar on 
 Too willful, woful, awful for the Child-heart! 
 
 Child-heart ! mild heart t 
 Ho, my little wild heart I 
 Come up here to me out o' the dark, 
 Or let me come to you t 
 
 The clock chats on confidingly; a rose 
 Taps at the window, as the sunlight throws 
 39
 
 A CHILD-WORLD 
 
 A brilliant, jostling checkerwork of shine 
 And shadow, like a Persian-loom design, 
 Across the homemade carpet fades, and then 
 The dear old colors are themselves again. 
 Sounds drop in visiting from everywhere 
 The bluebird's and the robin's trill are there, 
 Their sweet liquidity diluted some 
 By dewy orchard spaces they have come: 
 Sounds of the town, too, and the great highway- 
 The Mover-wagons' rumble, and the neigh 
 Of overtraveled horses, and the bleat 
 Of sheep and low of cattle through the street 
 A Nation's thoroughfare of hopes and fears, 
 First blazed by the heroic pioneers 
 Who gave up old-home idols and set face 
 Toward the unbroken West, to found a race 
 And tame a wilderness now mightier than 
 All peoples and all tracts American. 
 49
 
 HOUSEHOLD HARMONIES 
 
 Blent with all outer sounds, the sounds within : 
 
 In mild remoteness falls the household din 
 
 Of porch and kitchen : the dull jar and thump 
 
 Of churning; and the " glung-glung " of the pump, 
 
 With sudden pad and skurry of bare feet 
 
 Of little outlaws, in from field or street : 
 
 The clang of kettle, rasp of damper-ring 
 
 And bang of cookstove-door and everything 
 
 That jingles in a busy kitchen lifts 
 
 Its individual wrangling voice and drifts 
 
 In sweetest tinny, coppery, pewtery tone 
 
 Of music hungry ear has ever known 
 
 In wildest famished yearning and conceit 
 
 Of youth, to just cut loose and eat and eat 1 
 
 The zest of hunger still incited on 
 
 To childish desperation by long-drawn 
 
 Breaths of hot, steaming, wholesome things that stew 
 
 And blubber, and up-tilt the pot-lids, too,
 
 A CHILD-WORLD 
 
 Filling the sense with zestful rumors of 
 The dear old-fashioned dinners children love : 
 Redolent savorings of home-cured meats, 
 Potatoes, beans, and cabbage ; turnips, beets 
 And parsnips rarest composite entire 
 That ever pushed a mortal child's desire 
 To madness by new-grated fresh, keen, sharp 
 Horseradish tang that sets the lips awarp 
 And watery, anticipating all 
 The cloyed sweets of the glorious festival. 
 Still add the cinnamony, spicy scents 
 Of clove, nutmeg, and myriad condiments 
 In like-alluring whiffs that prophesy 
 Of sweltering pudding, cake, and custard pie 
 The swooning-sweet aroma haunting all 
 The house upstairs and down porch, parlor, hall 
 And sitting-room invading even where 
 The Hired Man sniffs it in the orchard-air, 
 42
 
 COUSIN RUFUS AND UNCLE MART 
 
 And pauses in his pruning of the trees 
 To note the sun minutely and to sneeze. 
 
 Then Cousin Rufus comes the children hear 
 His hale voice in the old hall, ringing clear 
 As any bell. Always he came with song 
 Upon his lips and all the happy throng 
 Of echoes following him, even as the crowd 
 Of his admiring little kinsmen proud 
 To have a cousin grown and yet as young 
 Of soul and cheery as the songs he sung. 
 
 He was a student of the law intent 
 Soundly to win success, with all it meant; 
 And so he studied even as he played, 
 With all his heart: And so it was he made 
 His gallant fight for fortune through all stress 
 Of battle bearing him with cheeriness 
 
 And wholesome valor. 
 
 43
 
 A CHILD-WORLD 
 
 And the children had 
 Another relative who kept them glad 
 And joyous by his very merry ways 
 As blithe and sunny as the summer days, 
 Their father's youngest brother Uncle Mart. 
 The old "Arabian Nights" he knew by heart 
 " Baron Munchausen," too ; and likewise " The 
 Swiss Family Robinson." And when these three 
 Gave out, as he rehearsed them, he could go 
 Straight on in the same line a steady flow 
 Of arabesque invention that his good 
 Old mother never clearly understood. 
 He was to be a printer wanted, though, 
 To be an actor. But the world was " show " 
 Enough for him, theatric, airy, gay, 
 Each day to him was jolly as a play. 
 And some poetic symptoms, too, in sooth, 
 Were certain. And, from his apprentice youth, 
 44
 
 THE TREE-HOUSE 
 
 He joyed in verse-quotations which he took 
 Out of the old " Type Foundry Specimen Book." 
 He craved and courted most the favor of 
 The children. They were foremost in his love ; 
 And pleasing them, he pleased his own boy-heart 
 And kept it young and fresh in every part. 
 So was it he devised for them and wrought 
 To life his quaintest, most romantic thought: 
 Like some lone castaway in alien seas, 
 He built a house up in the apple-trees, 
 Out in the corner of the garden, where 
 No man-devouring native, prowling there, 
 Might pounce upon them in the dead o' night 
 For lo, their little ladder, slim and light, 
 They drew up after them. And it was known 
 That Uncle Mart slipped up sometimes alone 
 And drew the ladder in, to lie and moon 
 Over some novel all the afternoon. 
 45
 
 A CHILD-WORLD 
 
 And one time Johnty, from the crowd below, 
 Outraged to find themselves deserted so 
 Threw bodily their old black cat up in 
 The airy fastness, with much yowl and din 
 Resulting, while a wild periphery 
 Of cat went circling to another tree, 
 And, in impassioned outburst, Uncle Mart 
 Loomed up, and thus relieved his tragic heart : 
 
 " ' Hence, long-tailed, ebon- eyed, nocturnal ranger! 
 
 What led thee hither Amongst the types and cases? 
 
 Didst thou not know that running midnight races 
 O'er standing types was fraught with imminent danger? 
 Did hunger lead thee didst thou think to find 
 
 Some rich old cheese to fill thy hungry maw? 
 
 Vain hope I for none but literary jaw 
 Can masticate our cookery for the mind! tn
 
 THE DINNER AND THE GUESTS 
 
 So likewise when, with lordly air and grace, 
 He strode to dinner, with a tragic face 
 With ink-spots on it from the office, he 
 Would aptly quote more "Specimen-poetry " 
 Perchance like "'Labor's bread is sweet to eat, 
 (Ahem!') And toothsome is the toiler's meat.' " 
 
 Ah, could you see them all, at lull of noon ! 
 A sort of boisterous lull, with clink of spoon 
 And clatter of deflecting knife, and plate 
 Dropped saggingly, with its all-bounteous weight, 
 And dragged in place voraciously; and then 
 Pent exclamations, and the lull again. 
 The garland of glad faces 'round the board- 
 Each member of the family restored 
 To his or her place, with an extra chair 
 Or two for the chance guests so often there.
 
 A CHILD-WORLD 
 
 The father's farmer-client, brought home from 
 The courtroom, though he "didn't want to come 
 Tel he jist saw he hat to ! " he'd explain, 
 Invariably, time and time again, 
 To the pleased wife and hostess, as she pressed 
 Another cup of coffee on the guest. 
 Or there was Johnty's special chum, perchance, 
 Or Bud's, or both each childish countenance 
 Lit with a higher glow of youthful glee, 
 To be together thus unbrokenly, 
 Jim Offutt, or Eck Skinner, or George Carr 
 The very nearest chums of Bud's these are, 
 So, very probably, one of the three, 
 At least, is there with Bud, or ought to be. 
 Like interchange the town-boys each had known- 
 His playmate's dinner better than his own 
 Yet blest that he was ever made to stay 
 At Almon Kteftr's, any blessed day, 
 48
 
 A T ALMON KEEPER'S 
 
 For any meal ! . . . Visions of biscuits, hot 
 
 And flaky-perfect, with the golden blot 
 
 Of molten butter for the center, clear, 
 
 Through pools of clover-honey dear-o-dear ! 
 
 With creamy milk for its divine "farewell": 
 
 And then, if any one delectable 
 
 Might yet exceed in sweetness, O restore 
 
 The cherry-cobbler of the days of yore 
 
 Made only by Al Keefer's mother! Why, 
 
 The very thought of it ignites the eye 
 
 Of memory with rapture cloys the lip 
 
 Of longing, till it seems to ooze and drip 
 
 With veriest juice and stain and overwaste 
 
 Of that most sweet delirium of taste 
 
 That ever visited the childish tongue, 
 
 Or proved, as now, the sweetest thing unsung.
 
 ALMON KEEPER 
 
 AH, ALMON KEEPER ! what a boy you were, 
 
 With your back-tilted hat and careless hair, 
 And open, honest, fresh, fair face and eyes 
 With their all-varying looks of pleased surprise 
 And joyous interest in flower and tree, 
 And poising humming-bird, and maundering bee. 
 
 The fields and woods he knew; the tireless tramp 
 With gun and dog; and the night-fisher's camp 
 No other boy, save Bee Lineback, had won 
 Such brilliant mastery of rod and gun. 
 Even in his earliest childhood had he shown 
 These traits that marked him as his father's own. 
 Dogs all paid Almon honor and bow-wowed 
 Allegiance, let him come in any crowd 
 Of rabbit-hunting town-boys, even though 
 His own dog "Sleuth" rebuked their acting so 
 With jealous snarls and growlings.
 
 ALMOWS LITER ART LEANINGS 
 
 But the best 
 
 Of Almon's virtues leading all the rest 
 Was his great love of books, and skill as well 
 In reading them aloud, and by the spell 
 Thereof enthralling his mute listeners, as 
 They grouped about him in the orchard grass, 
 Hinging their bare shins in the mottled shine 
 And shade, as they lay prone, or stretched supine 
 Beneath their favorite tree, with dreamy eyes 
 And Argo-fancies voyaging the skies. 
 "Tales of the Ocean" was the name of one 
 Old dog's-eared book that was surpassed by none 
 Of all the glorious list. Its back was gone, 
 But its vitality went bravely on 
 In such delicious tales of land and sea 
 As may not ever perish utterly. 
 Of still more dubious caste, "Jack Sheppard" drew 
 Full admiration; and "Dick Turpin," too. 
 51
 
 A CHILD-WORLD 
 
 And, painful as the fact is to convey, 
 In certain lurid tales of their own day, 
 These boys found thieving heroes and outlaws 
 They hailed with equal fervor of applause: 
 "The League of the Miami" why, the name 
 Alone was fascinating is the same, 
 In memory, this venerable hour 
 Of moral wisdom shorn of all its power, 
 As it unblushingly reverts to when 
 The old barn was "the Cave," and hears again 
 The signal blown, outside the buggy-shed 
 The drowsy guard within uplifts his head, 
 And '"Who goes there?' " is called, in bated breath 
 The challenge answered in a hush of death, 
 " Sh !- -'Barney Gray? " And then " 'What do you seek ?' " 
 " 'Stables of The League? " the voice comes spent and weak, 
 For, ha! the Law is on the "Chieftain's" trail- 
 Tracked to his very laii ! Well, what avail ? 
 52
 
 THE ROBBER-CHIRP 
 
 The "secret entrance" opens closes. So 
 
 The " Robber-Captain " thus outwits his foe ; 
 
 And, safe once more within his "cavern-halls," 
 
 He shakes his clenched fist at the warped plank-walls 
 
 And mutters his defiance through the cracks 
 
 At the balked Enemy's retreating backs 
 
 As the loud horde flees pell-mell down the lane, 
 
 And Almon Keefef is himself again! 
 
 Excepting few, they were not books indeed 
 Of deep import that Almon chose to read ; 
 Less fact than fiction. Much he favored those 
 If not in poetry, in hectic prose 
 That made our native Indian a wild, 
 Feathered and fine-preened hero that a child 
 Could recommend as just about the thing 
 To make a god of, or at least a king.
 
 A CHILD-WORLD 
 
 Aside from Almon's own books two or three 
 His store of lore The Township Library 
 Supplied him weekly: All the books with "or"s 
 Sub-titledlured him after "Indian Wars," 
 And " Life of Daniel Boone," not to include 
 Some few books spiced with humor, "Robin Hood" 
 And rare "Don Quixote." And one time he took 
 " Dadd's Cattle Doctor." . . . How he hugged the book 
 And hurried homeward, with internal glee 
 And humorous spasms of expectancy! 
 All this confession as he promptly made 
 It, the day later, writhing in the shade 
 Of the old apple-tree with Johnty and 
 Bud, Noey Bixler, and The Hired Hand- 
 Was quite as funny as the book was not. . . . 
 O Wonderland of wayward Childhood! what 
 An easy, breezy realm of summer calm 
 And dreamy gleam and gloom and bloom and balm 
 54
 
 WHILE THE HEART BEATS TOUNG 
 
 Thou art! The Lotus-Land the poet sung, 
 
 It is the Child- World while the heart beats young. . . . 
 
 While the heart lv>ats young ! O the splendor of the Spring:, 
 
 With all her dewy jewels on, is not so fair a thing! 
 
 The fairest, rarest morning of the blossom-time of May 
 
 Is not so sweet a season as the season of to-day 
 
 While Youth's diviner climate folds and holds us, close caressed, 
 
 As we feel our mothers with us by the touch of face and breast; 
 
 Our bare feet in the meadows, and our fancies up among; 
 
 The airy clouds of morning while the heart beats young. 
 
 While the heart beats young and our pulses leap and dance, 
 
 With every day a holiday and life a glad romance, 
 
 We hear the birds with wonder, and with wonder watch their flight 
 
 Standing still the more enchanted, both of hearing and of sight, 
 
 When they have vanished wholly, for, in fancy, wing-to-wing 
 
 We fly to Heaven with them; and, returning, still we sing 
 
 The praises of this lower Heaven with tireless voice and tongue, 
 
 Even as the Master sanctions while the heart beats young. 
 
 While the heart beats young 1 While the heart beats young I 
 O green and gold old Earth of ours, with azure overhung 
 And looped with rainbows 1 grant us yet this grassy lap of thine 
 We would be still thy children, through the shower and the shine ! 
 
 55
 
 NOET BIXLER 
 
 So pray we, lisping, whispering, In childish love and trust 
 With our beseeching hands and faces lifted from the dust 
 By fervor of the poem, all unwritten and unsung, 
 Thou givest us in answer, while the heart beats young. 
 
 ANOTHER hero of those youthful years 
 Returns, as Noey Bixler's name appears. 
 And Noey if in any special way 
 Was notably good-natured. Work or play 
 He entered into with selfsame delight 
 A wholesome interest that made him quite 
 As many friends among the old as young, 
 So everywhere were Noey's praises sung. 
 
 And he was awkward, fat and overgrown, 
 
 With a round full-moon face, that fairly shone 
 
 As though to meet the simile's demand. 
 
 .And, cumbrous though he seemed, both eye and hand
 
 NOEY AND HIS GIFTS 
 
 Were dowered with the discernment and deft skill 
 Of the true artisan : He shaped at will, 
 In his old father's shop, on rainy days, 
 Little toy-wagons, and curved-runner sleighs ; 
 The trimmest bows and arrows fashioned, too, 
 Of "seasoned timber," such as Noey knew 
 How to select, prepare, and then complete, 
 And call his little friends in from the street 
 "The very best bow," Noey used to say, 
 " Haint made o' ash ner hick'ry thataway ! 
 But you git mulberry the foan''-tree, 
 Now mind ye ! and you fetch the piece to me, 
 And lem me git it seasoned; then, i gum! 
 I'll make a bow 'at you kin brag on some! 
 Er ef you can't git mulberry, you bring 
 Me a' old locus' 1 hitch-post, and i jing ! 
 I'll make a bow o' that 'at common bows 
 Won't dast to pick on ner turn up their noseJ" 
 57
 
 A CHILD-WORLD 
 
 And Noey knew the woods, and all the trees, 
 And thickets, plants and myriad mysteries 
 Of swamp and bottom-land. And he knew where 
 The ground-hog hid, and why located there. 
 He knew all animals that burrowed, swam, 
 Or lived in tree-tops: And, by race and dam, 
 He knew the choicest, safest deeps wherein 
 Fish-traps might flourish nor provoke the sin 
 Of theft in some chance peeking, prying sneak, 
 Or town-boy, prowling up and down the creek. 
 All four-pawed creatures tamable he knew 
 Their outer and their inner natures too; 
 While they, in turn, were drawn to him as by 
 Some subtle recognition of a tie 
 Of love, as true as truth from end to end, 
 Between themselves and this strange human friend. 
 The same with birds he knew them every one, 
 And he could "name them, too, without a gun."
 
 THEIR LOVES' 1 WHEREFORE 
 
 No wonder Johnty loved him, even to 
 The verge of worship. Noey led him through 
 The art of trapping redbirds yes, and taught 
 Him how to keep them when he had them caught- 
 What food they needed, and just where to swing 
 The cage, if he expected them to sing. 
 
 And Bud loved Noey, for the little pair 
 Of stilts he made him ; or the stout old hair 
 Trunk Noey put on wheels, and laid a track 
 Of scantling-railroad for it in the back 
 Part of the barn-lot; or the cross-bow, made 
 Just like a gun, which deadly weapon laid 
 Against his shoulder as he aimed, and "Sping ! " 
 He'd hear the rusty old nail zoon and sing 
 And %ip! your Mr. Bluejay's wing would drop 
 A farewell-feather from the old tree-top!
 
 A CHILD-WORLD 
 
 And Maymie loved htm, for the very small 
 But perfect carriage for her favorite doll 
 A lady's carriage not a baby-cab, 
 But oilcloth top, and two seats, lined with drab 
 And trimmed with white lace-paper from a case 
 Of shaving-soap his uncle bought some place 
 At auction once. 
 
 And Alex loved him yet 
 The best, when Noey brought him, for a pet, 
 A little flying-squirrel, with great eyes 
 Big as a child's: And, childlike otherwise, 
 It was at first a timid, tremulous, coy, 
 Retiring little thing that dodged the boy 
 And tried to keep in Noey's pocket; till, 
 In time, responsive to his patient will, 
 It became wholly docile, and content 
 With its new master, as he came and went, 
 
 60
 
 TUNELESS WHISTLING 
 
 The squirrel clinging flatly to his breast, 
 Or sometimes scampering its craziest 
 Around his body spirally, and then 
 Down to his very heels and up again. 
 
 And Little Litfie loved him, as a bee 
 
 Loves a great ripe red apple utterly. 
 
 For Noey's ruddy morning-face she drew 
 
 The window-blind, and tapped the window, too; 
 
 Afar she hailed his coming, as she heard 
 
 His tuneless whistling sweet as any bird 
 
 It seemed to her, the one lame bar or so 
 
 Of old " Wait for the Wagon "hoarse and low 
 
 The sound was, so that, all about the place, 
 
 Folks joked and said that Noey "whistled bass"- 
 
 The light remark originally made 
 
 By Cousin Rufus, who knew notes, and played
 
 A CHILD-WORLD 
 
 The flute with nimble skill, and taste as 
 And, critical as he was musical, 
 Regarded Noey's constant whistling thus 
 " Phenominally unmelodious." 
 Likewise when Uncle Mart, who shared the love 
 Of jest with Cousin Rufus hand-in-glove, 
 Said " Noey couldn't whistle l Bonny Doon* 
 Even! and, hid bet, couldn't carry a tune 
 If it had handles to it!" 
 
 But forgive 
 
 The deviations here so fugitive, 
 And turn again to Little Lizzie, whose 
 High estimate of Noey we shall choose 
 Above all others. And to her he was 
 Particularly lovable because 
 He laid the woodland's harvest at her feet. 
 He brought her wild strawberries, honey-sweet
 
 WINTER RESOURCES 
 
 And dewy-cool, in mats of greenest moss 
 And leaves, all woven over and across 
 With tender, biting "tongue-grass," and " sheep-sour," 
 And twin-leaved beach-mast, prankt with bud and flower 
 Of every gypsy-blossom of the wild, 
 Dark, tangled forest, dear to any child. 
 All these in season. Nor could barren, drear, 
 White and stark-featured Winter interfere 
 With Noey's rare resources: Still the same 
 He blithely whistled through the snow and came 
 Beneath the window with a Fairy sled ; 
 And Little Lizzie, bundled heels-and-head, 
 He took on such excursions of delight 
 As even "Old Santy" with his reindeer might 
 Have envied her! And, later, when the snow 
 Was softening toward Springtime and the glow 
 Of steady sunshine smote upon it, then 
 Came the magician Noey yet again 
 63
 
 A CHILD-WORLD 
 
 While all the children were away a day 
 Or two at Grandma's! and behold when they 
 Got home cnce more ; there, towering taller than 
 The doorway stood a mighty, old Snow-Man! 
 
 A thing of peerless art a masterpiece 
 
 Doubtless unmatched by even classic Greece 
 
 In heyday of Praxiteles. Alone 
 
 It loomed in lordly grandeur all its own. 
 
 And steadfast, too, for weeks and weeks it stood, 
 
 The admiration of the neighborhood 
 
 As well as of the children Noey sought 
 
 Only to honor in the work he wrought 
 
 The traveler paid it tribute, as he passed 
 
 Along the highway paused and, turning, cast 
 
 A lingering, last look as though to take 
 
 A vivid print of it, for memory's sake,
 
 THE APPRENTICE-POET 
 
 To lighten all the empty, aching miles 
 
 Beyond with brighter fancies, hopes and smiles. 
 
 The cynic put aside his biting wit 
 
 And tacitly declared in praise of it; 
 
 And even the apprentice-poet of the town 
 
 Rose to impassioned heights, and then sat down 
 
 And penned a panegyric scroll of rhyme 
 
 That made the Snow-Man famous for all time. 
 
 And though, as now, the ever warmer sun 
 Of summer had so melted and undone 
 The perishable figure that alas ! 
 Not even in dwindled white against the grass 
 Was left its latest and minutest ghost, 
 The children yet materially, almost 
 Beheld it circled 'round it hand-in-hand 
 (Or rather 'round the place it used to stand)
 
 "A NOTED TRAVELER" 
 
 With "Ring-a-round-a-rosy! Bottle full 
 
 O' posey! " and, with shriek and laugh, would pull 
 
 From seeming contact with it just as when 
 
 It was the real-est of old Snow-Men. 
 
 EVEN in such a scene of senseless play 
 
 The children were surprised one summer-day 
 
 By a strange man who called across the fence, 
 
 Inquiring for their father's residence; 
 
 And, being answered that this was the place, 
 
 Opened the gate, and with a radiant face, 
 
 Came in and sat down with them in the shade 
 
 And waited till the absent father made 
 
 His noon appearance, with a warmth and zest 
 
 That told he had no ordinary guest 
 
 In this man whose low-spoken name he knew 
 
 At once, demurring as the stranger drew 
 
 66
 
 PERS ONAL CHA RA C TERIS TICS 
 
 A stuffy notebook out and turned and set 
 A big fat finger on a page and let 
 The writing thereon testify instead 
 Of further speech. And as the father read 
 All silently, the curious children took 
 Exacting inventory both of book 
 And man: He wore a long-napped white fur-hat 
 Pulled firmly on his head, and under that 
 Rather long silvery hair, or iron-gray 
 For he was not an old man, anyway, 
 Not beyond sixty. And he wore a pair 
 Of square-framed spectacles or rather there 
 Were two more than a pair, the extra two 
 Flared at the corners, at the eyes' side-view, 
 In as redundant vision as the eyes 
 Of grasshoppers or bees or dragonflies. 
 Later the children heard the father say 
 He was "A Noted Traveler," and would stay 
 67
 
 A CHILD-WORLD 
 
 Some days with them In which time host and guest 
 
 Discussed, alone, in deepest interest, 
 
 Some vague, mysterious matter that defied 
 
 The wistful children, loitering outside 
 
 The spare-room door. There Bud acquired a quite 
 
 New list of big words such as " Disunite," 
 
 And "Shibboleth," and "Aristocracy," 
 
 And "Juggernaut," and "Squatter Sovereignty," 
 
 And "Anti-slavery," " Emancipate," 
 
 "Irrepressible conflict," and "The Great 
 
 Battle of Armageddon " obviously 
 
 A pamphlet brought from Washington, D. C., 
 
 And spread among such friends as might occur 
 
 Of like views with " The Noted Traveler." 
 
 68
 
 A PROSPECTIVE VISIT 
 
 "11 7HILE any day was notable and dear 
 
 That gave the children Noey, history here 
 Records his advent emphasized indeed 
 With sharp italics, as he came to feed 
 The stock one special morning, fair and bright, 
 When Johnty and Bud met him, with delight 
 Unusual even as their extra dress 
 Garbed as for holiday, with much excess 
 Of proud self-consciousness and vain conceit 
 In their new finery. Far up the street 
 They called to Noey, as he came, that they, 
 As promised, both were going back that day 
 To his house with him! 
 
 And by time that each 
 
 Had one of Noey's hands ceasing their speech 
 And coyly anxious, in their new attire, 
 To wake the comment of their mute desire, 
 69
 
 A CHILD-WORLD 
 
 Noey seemed rendered voiceless. Quite a while 
 They watched him furtively. He seemed to smile 
 As though he would conceal it; and they saw 
 Him look away, and his lips purse and draw 
 In curious, twitching spasms, as though he might 
 Be whispering, while in his eye the white 
 Predominated strangely. Then the spell 
 Gave way, and his pent speech burst audible: 
 "They wuz two stylish little boys, 
 
 and they wuz mighty bold ones, 
 Had two new pairs o' britches made 
 
 out o' their daddy's old ones I" 
 And at the inspirational outbreak, 
 Both joker and his victims seemed to take 
 An equal share of laughter, and all through 
 Their morning visit kept recurring to 
 The funny words and jingle of the rhyme 
 That just kept getting funnier all the time. 
 70
 
 AT NOEY'S HOUSE 
 
 AT NOEY'S house when they arrived with him 
 How snug seemed everything, and neat and trim 
 The little picket-fence, and little gate 
 It's little pulley, and its little weight, 
 All glib as clock-work, as it clicked behind 
 Them, on the little red brick pathway, lined 
 With little paint-keg-vases and teapots 
 Of wee moss-blossoms and forgetmenots : 
 And in the windows, either side the door, 
 Were ranged as many little boxes more 
 Of like old-fashioned larkspurs, pinks and moss 
 And fern and phlox; while up and down across 
 Them rioted the morning-glory-vines 
 On taut-set cotton-strings, whose snowy lines 
 71
 
 A CHILD-WORLD 
 
 Whipt in and out and under the bright green 
 
 Like basting-threads; and, here and there between, 
 
 A showy, shiny hollyhock would flare 
 
 Its pink among the white and purple there. 
 
 And still behind the vines, the children saw 
 
 A strange, bleached, wistful face that seemed to draw 
 
 A vague, indefinite sympathy. A face 
 
 It was of some newcomer to the place. 
 
 In explanation, Noey, briefly, said 
 
 That it was "Jason," as he turned and led 
 
 The little fellows 'round the house to show 
 
 Them his menagerie of pets. And so 
 
 For quite a time the face of the strange guest 
 
 Was partially forgotten, as they pressed 
 
 About the squirrel-cage and rousted both 
 
 The lazy inmates out, though wholly loath 
 
 To whirl the wheel for them. And then with awe 
 
 They walked 'round Noey's big pet owl, and saw 
 
 72
 
 Him film his great, clear, liquid eyes and stare 
 And turn and turn and turn his head 'round there 
 The same way they kept circling as though he 
 Could turn it one way thus eternally. 
 
 Behind the kitchen, then, with special pride 
 
 Noey stirred up a terrapin inside 
 
 The rain-barrel where he lived, with three or four 
 
 Little mud-turtles of a size not more 
 
 In neat circumference than the tiny toy 
 
 Dumb-watches worn by every little boy. 
 
 Then, back of the old shop, beneath the tree 
 Of "rusty-coats," as Noey called them, he 
 Next took the boys, to show his favorite new 
 Pet 'coon pulled rather coyly into view 
 Up through a square hole in the bottom of 
 An old inverted tub he bent above, 
 73
 
 A CHILD-WORLD 
 
 Yanking a little chain, with "Hey! you, sir! 
 Here's company come to see you, Bolivurl" 
 Explanatory, he went on to say, 
 "1 named him ' Bolivur' jes thisaway, 
 He looks so round and ovalish and fat, 
 'Feared like no other name 'ud fit but that" 
 
 Here Noey's father called and sent him on 
 Some errand. "Wait," he said "I won't be gone 
 A half a 1 hour. Take Bud, and go on in 
 Where Jason is, tel I git back agin." 
 
 Whoever Jason was, they found him there 
 Still at the front-room window. By his chair 
 Leaned a new pair of crutches; and from one 
 Knee down, a leg was bandaged. " Jason done 
 That-air with one o' these-'ere tools tet call 
 A 'shitt-ho*' but afoot-ad? mostly all 
 74
 
 JASON 
 
 Hardware-store-keepers calls 'em." (Noey made 
 This explanation later.) 
 
 Jason paid 
 
 But little notice to the boys as they 
 Came in the room : An idle volume lay 
 Upon his lap the only book in sight 
 And Johnty read the title," Light, More Light, 
 There's Danger in the Dark," though first and best- 
 In fact, the whole of Jason's interest 
 Seemed centered on a little dog one pet 
 Of Noey's all uncelebrated yet 
 Though Jason, certainly, avowed his worth, 
 And niched him over all the pets on earth 
 As the observant Johnty would relate 
 The y5o-episode, and imitate 
 The all-enthusiastic speech and air 
 Of Noey's kinsman and his tribute there: 
 
 7$
 
 '''THAT LITTLE DOG" 
 
 " THAT little dog 'ud scratch at that door 
 And go on a-whinin 1 two hours before 
 He'd ever let up ! There .'Jane : Let him in. 
 (Hah, there, you little rat !) Look at him grin ! 
 
 Come down off o' that! 
 
 W'y, look at him ! (Drat 
 You! you-rascal-youf) bring me that hat! 
 Look out! He'll snap you .'He wouldn't let 
 You take it away from him, now you kin bet! 
 That little rascal's jist natchurly mean. 
 I tell you, I never (Git out!!) never seen 
 A spunkier little rip ! (Scratch to git in, 
 And note yer a-scratchin' to git out agin ! 
 Jane: Let him out!) Now, watch him from here 
 Out through the winder ! You notice one ear 
 Kindo' insist-out, like he holds it? Well, 
 He's got a tick in it/ kin tell !
 
 CANINE SAG AC ITT 
 
 Yes, and he's cunnin' 
 
 Jist watch him a-runnin 1 , 
 Sidelirf see ! like he ain't 'plum'd trut 
 And legs don't 'track' as they'd ort to dot 
 Plowin' his nose through the weeds \ jing! 
 
 Ain't he jist cuter'n anything ! 
 
 i 
 
 " W'y, that little dog's got grown-peopie's sense I- 
 See how he gits out under the fence? 
 And watch him a-whettin' his hind-legs 'fore 
 His dead square run of a miled er more 
 'Cause Noey's a-comin', and Trip allus knows 
 When Noey's a-comin' and off he goes! 
 Putts out to meet him and There they common! 
 Well-sir! it's raially singalar how 
 
 That dog kin tell, 
 
 But he knows as well
 
 A CHILD-WORLD 
 
 When Noey's a-comin* home! Reckon his smell 
 'Ud carry two railed? You needn't to smile 
 He runs to meet him, ever'-once-n-a-while, 
 Two railed and over when he's slipped away 
 And left him at home here, as he's done to-day 
 'Thout ever knowin' where Noey wuz goin* 
 But that little dog allus hits the right way! 
 Hear him a-whinin' and scratchin' agin? 
 (Little tormentin* ficef) Jane: Let him in. 
 
 *' You say he ain't there? 
 
 Well now, I declare! 
 
 Lem me limp out and look! ... I wunder where 
 Heuh, Trip! Heuh, TflplHeuh, Trip! . . . There- 
 There he is! Little sneak! What-a'-you-'bout? 
 There he is quiled up as meek as a mouse, 
 His tail turnt up like a teakittle-spout, 
 A-sunnin' hisse'f at the side o* the house! 
 78
 
 T HIM IN" 
 
 Next time you scratch, sir, you'll haf to git In, 
 
 My fine little feller, the best way you kin ! 
 
 Noey he learns him sich capers! And they 
 
 Both of 'em's ornrier every day! 
 
 Both tantalizin' and meaner'n sin 
 
 Allus a (Listen there!) Jane : Let him in. 
 
 " O! yer so innocent! hangin* yer headl 
 (Drat ye! you'd better git under the bed!) 
 Listen at that ! 
 
 He's tackled the cat ! 
 
 Hah, there ! you little rip ! come out o* that I 
 Git yer blame little eyes scratched out 
 'Fore you know what yer talkin' about! 
 Here! come away from there! (Let him alone 
 He'll snap you, I tell ye, as quick as a bone!) 
 Hi, Trip ! Hey, here ! What-a'-you-'bout ! 
 Ool ouch! 'LI I'll be blamed! Blast yt! GlT OUT! 
 79
 
 A CHILD-WORLD 
 
 ... O, it ain't nothin' jist scratched me, you see.- 
 Hadn't no idy he'd try to bite me! 
 Plague take him! Bet he'll not try that agin! 
 Hear him yelp. (Pore feller!) Jane: Let him In."
 
 "H 
 
 THE LOEHRS AND THE HAMMONDS 
 
 EY, Bud ! O Bud ! " rang out a gleeful call, 
 
 " The Loehrs t's come to your house ! " And a small 
 But very much elated little chap, 
 In snowy linen-suit and tasseled cap, 
 Leaped from the back-fence just across the street 
 From Bixlers', and came galloping to meet 
 His equally delighted little pair 
 Of playmates, hurrying out to join him there 
 " The Loehrs is come! The Loehrs is come!" his glee 
 Augmented to a pitch of ecstasy 
 Communicated wildly, till the cry 
 " The Loehrs is come!" in chorus quavered high 
 And thrilling as some paean of challenge or 
 Soul-stirring chant of armied conqueror. 
 6 81
 
 A CHILD-WORLD 
 
 And who this avant courier of "the Loehrs"? 
 
 This happiest of all boys out-o'-doors 
 
 Who but Will Pierson, with his heart's excess 
 
 Of summer-warmth and light and breezinessl 
 
 " From our front winder I 'uz first to see 
 
 'Em all a-drivin* into town ! " bragged he 
 
 "An' seen 'em turnin' up the alley where 
 
 Your folks lives at. An' John an* Jake wuz there 
 
 Both in the wagon ; yes, an' Willy, too ; 
 
 An' Mary Yes, an* Edith with bran-new 
 
 An' purtiest-trimmed hats 'at ever wuz! 
 
 An* Susan, an' Janey. An' the Hammondstt^ 
 
 In their fine buggy 'at they're ridin' roun* 
 
 So much, all over an' aroun' the town 
 
 An* w'wheres, them fy-people who's 
 
 A-visutin' at Loehrs-uz ! " 
 
 Glorious news I
 
 THE GIRL FRIEND 
 
 Even more glorious when verified 
 In the boys' welcoming eyes of love and pride, 
 As one by one they greeted their old friends 
 And neighbors. Nor until their earth-life ends 
 Will that bright memory become less bright 
 Or dimmed indeed. 
 
 . . . Again, at candle-light, 
 TJC faces all are gathered. And how glad 
 The Mother's features, knowing that she had 
 Her dear, sweet Mary Loehr back again. 
 She always was so proud of her; and then 
 The dear girl, in return, was happy, too, 
 And with a heart as loving, kind and true 
 As that maturer one which seemed to blend 
 As one the love of mother and of friend. 
 From time to time, as hand-in-hand they sat, 
 The fair girl whispered something low, whereat
 
 A CHILD-WORLD 
 
 A tender, wistful look would gather in 
 The mother-eyes; and then there would begin 
 A sudden cheerier talk, directed to 
 The stranger guests the man and woman who, 
 It was explained, were coming now to make 
 Their temporary home in town for sake 
 Of the wife's somewhat failing health. Yes, they 
 Were city-people, seeking rest this way, 
 The man said, answering a query made 
 By some well meaning neighbor with a shade 
 Of apprehension in the answer .... No, 
 They had no children. As he answered so, 
 The man's arm went about his wife, and she 
 Leant toward him, with her eyes lit prayerfully: 
 Then she arose he following and bent 
 Above the little sleeping innocent 
 Within the cradle at the mother's side- 
 He patting her, all silent, as she cried. 
 84
 
 THE SILENT POEM 
 
 Though, haply, in the silence that ensued, 
 His musings made melodious interlude. 
 
 In the warm, health-giving weather 
 
 My poor pale wife and I 
 Drive up and down the little town 
 
 And the pleasant roads thereby: 
 Out in the wholesome country 
 
 We wind, from the main highway, 
 In through the wood's green solitudes 
 
 Fair as the Lord's own Day. 
 
 We have lived so long together. 
 
 And joyed and mourned as one, 
 That each with each, with a look for speech, 
 
 Or a touch, may talk as none 
 But Love's elect may comprehend 
 
 Why, the touch of her hand on mine 
 Speaks volume-wise, and the smile of her eyes. 
 
 To me, Is a song divine. 
 
 There are many places that lure us:- 
 
 " The Old Wood Bridge " just west 
 
 Of town we know and the creek below. 
 
 And the banks the boys love best: 
 8 5 -
 
 A CHILD-WORLD 
 
 And " Beech Grove," too. on the hill-top; 
 
 And " The Haunted House " beyond, 
 With its roof half off, and its old pump-trough 
 
 Adrift in the roadside pond. 
 
 We find our way to "The Marshes" 
 
 At least where they used to be ; 
 And " The Old Camp Grounds " ; and " The Indian Mounds, 
 
 And the trunk of "The Council Tree:" 
 We have crunched and splashed through " Flint-bed Ford " ; 
 
 And at "Old Big Bee-gum Spring" 
 We have stayed the cup, half lifted up, 
 
 Hearing the redbird sing. 
 
 And then, there is " Wesley Chapel," 
 
 With its little graveyard, lone 
 At the crossroads there, though the sun sets fair 
 
 On wild-rose, mound and stone . . . 
 A wee bed under the willows 
 
 My wife's hand on my own 
 And our horse stops, too ; . . And we hear the coo 
 
 Of a dove In undertone.
 
 A SUMMONS FROM FLORETTT 
 
 The dusk, the dew, and the silence I 
 "Old Charley" turns his head 
 
 Homeward then by the pike again, 
 Though never a word is said 
 
 One more stop, and a lingering one- 
 After the fields and farms, 
 
 At the old Toll Gate, with the woman await 
 With a little girl in her arms. 
 
 The silence sank Floretty came to call 
 The children in the kitchen, where they all 
 Went helter-skeltering with shout and din 
 Enough to drown most sanguine silence in, 
 For well indeed they knew that summons meant 
 Taffy and popcorn so with cheers they went
 
 T 
 
 THE HIRED MAN AND FLORETTY 
 
 HE Hired Man's supper, which he sat before, 
 
 In near reach of the wood-box, the stove-door 
 And one leaf of the kitchen-table, was 
 Somewhat belated, and in lifted pause 
 His dextrous knife was balancing a bit 
 Of fried mush near the port awaiting it. 
 
 At the glad children's advent gladder still 
 To find him there" Jest tickled fit to kill 
 To see ye all ! " he said, with unctious cheer. 
 "I'm tryin'-like to he'p Floretty here 
 To git things cleared away and give ye room 
 Accordin' to yer stren'th. But I p'sume 
 It's a pore boarder, as the poet says, 
 That quarrels with his victuals, so I guess 
 88
 
 THE HIRED MAN 
 
 I'll take another wedge o' that-air cake, 
 Florett', that you're a-learnm* how to bake." 
 He winked and feigned to swallow painfully. 
 
 "Jest 'fore ye all come in, Floretty she 
 Was boastin' 'bout her biscuits and they air 
 As good sometimes as you'll find anywhere. 
 But, women gits to braggin' on their bread, 
 I'm s'picious 'bout their pie as, Danty said." 
 This raillery Floretty strangely seemed 
 To take as compliment, and fairly beamed 
 With pleasure at it all. 
 
 "Speakin' o' bread 
 
 When she come here to live," The Hired Man said, 
 " Never ben out o' Freeport 'fore she come 
 Up here, of course she needed 'sperience some. 
 So, one day, when yer Ma was goin' to set 
 The risin* fer some bread, she sent Florett 1 
 89
 
 A CHILD-WORLD 
 
 To borry leaven, 'crost at Ryans' So, 
 She went and asked fer twelve. She didn't know, 
 But thought, whatever 'twuz, that she could keep 
 One fer herse'f> she said. O she wuz deep!" 
 
 Some little evidence of favor hailed 
 
 The Hired Man's humor; but it wholly failed 
 
 To touch the serious Susan Loehr, whose air 
 
 And thought rebuked them all to listening there 
 
 To her brief history of the city-man 
 
 And his pale wife "A sweeter woman than 
 
 She ever saw!" So Susan testified, 
 
 And so attested all the Loehrs beside. 
 
 So entertaining was the history, that 
 
 The Hired Man, in the corner where he sat 
 
 In quiet sequestration, shelling corn, 
 
 Ceased wholly, listening, with a face forlorn
 
 THE HAMMONDS 
 
 As Sorrow's own, while Susan, John and Jake 
 
 Told of these strangers who had come to make 
 
 Some weeks' stay in the town, in hopes to gain 
 
 Once more the health the wife had sought in vain : 
 
 Their doctor, in the city, used to know 
 
 The Loehrs Dan and Rachel years ago, 
 
 And so had sent a letter and request 
 
 For them to take a kindly interest 
 
 In favoring the couple all they could 
 
 To find some home-place for them, if they would, 
 
 Among their friends in town. He ended by 
 
 A dozen further lines, explaining why 
 
 His patient must have change of scene and air 
 
 New faces, and the simple friendships there 
 
 With them, which might, in time, make her forget 
 
 A grief that kept her ever brooding yet 
 
 And wholly melancholy and depressed, 
 
 Nor yet could she find sleep by night nor rest
 
 A CHILD-WORLD 
 
 By day, for thinking thinking thinking still 
 Upon a grief beyond the doctor's skill, 
 The death of her one little girl. 
 
 " Pore thing ! " 
 
 Floretty sighed, and with the turkey-wing 
 Brushed off the stove-hearth softly, and peered in 
 The kettle of molasses, with her thin 
 Voice wandering into song unconsciously 
 In purest, if most witless, sympathy. 
 
 " ' Then sleep no more : 
 
 Around thy heart 
 Some ten-der dream may l-dlee play, 
 
 But mid-night song, 
 
 With mad-jlck art. 
 Will chase that dree muh-way!'" 
 
 "That-air besetment of Floretty's," said 
 The Hired Man, "singin 1 she inhabited, 
 Her father wuz addicted same as her 
 To singin' yes, and played the dulcimer 1 
 93
 
 THE HIRED MAN'S PHILOSOPHY 
 
 But gittin' back, I s'pose yer talkin' 'bout 
 Them Hammondses. Well, Hammond he gits out 
 Patients on things inventiens-like, I'm told 
 And's got more money'n a house could hold! 
 And yit he can't git up no pattent-right 
 To do away with dyin\ And he might 
 Be worth a million, but he couldn't find 
 Nobody sellin' health of any kind! . . . 
 But they's no thing onhandier fer me 
 To use than other people's misery. 
 Floretty, hand me that-air skillet there 
 And lem me git 'er het up, so's them-alr 
 Childern kin have their popcorn." 
 
 It was good 
 
 To hear him now, and so the children stood 
 Closer about him, waiting. 
 
 "Things to tat," 
 
 The Hired Man went on, "'s mighty hard to beat I 
 93
 
 A CHILD-WORLD 
 
 \ 
 
 Now, when / wuz a boy, we was so pore, 
 
 My parunts couldn't 'ford popcorn no more 
 To pamper me with ; so, I hat to go 
 Without popcorn sometimes a year er so! 
 And suffer' ft 1 saints ! how hungry I would git 
 Per jest one other chance like this at it ! 
 Many and many a time I've dreamp\ at night, 
 About popcorn, all busted open white, 
 And hot, you know and jest enough o' salt 
 And butter on it fer to find no fault 
 Oomh ! Well ! as 1 was goin' on to say, 
 After a-dreamin' of it thataway, 
 Then havin' to wake up and find it's all 
 A dream, and hain't got no popcorn at-tall, 
 Ner haint had none I'd think, ' IVell, where' s the ustl* 
 And jest lay back and sob the plaster'n' loose! 
 And I have prayed, whatever happened, it 
 'Ud eether be popcorn er death ! . . . . And ylt 
 94
 
 OUT IN THE NIGHT-AIR 
 
 I've noticed more'n likely so have you 
 
 That things don't happen when you want 'em to." 
 
 And thus he ran on artlessly, with speech 
 
 And work in equal exercise, till each 
 
 Tureen and bowl brimmed white. And then he greased 
 
 The saucers ready for the wax, and seized 
 
 The fragrant-steaming kettle, at a sign 
 
 Made by Floretty; and, each child in line, 
 
 He led out to the pump where, in the dim 
 
 New coolness of the night, quite near to him 
 
 He felt Floretty's presence, fresh and sweet 
 
 As .... dewy night-air after kitchen-heat 
 
 There, still, with loud delight of laugh and jest, 
 They plied their subtle alchemy with zest- 
 Till, sudden, high above their tumult, welled 
 Out of the sitting-room a song which held 
 95
 
 A CHILD-WORLD 
 
 Them stilled in some strange rapture, listening 
 To the sweet blur of voices chorusing : 
 
 " ' When twilight approaches the season 
 
 That ever is sacred to song, 
 Does some one repeat my name over. 
 
 And sigh that I tarry so long? 
 And is there a chord in the music 
 
 That's missed when my voice is away? 
 And a chord in each heart that awakens 
 Regret at my wearisome stay-ay 
 Regret at my wearisome stay.' " 
 
 All to himself, The Hired Man thought" Of course 
 Thty'll sing Floretty homesick ! " 
 
 . . . O strange source 
 Of ecstasy! O mystery of Song! 
 To hear the dear old utterance flow along : 
 
 " ' Do they set me a chair near the table 
 
 When evening's home-pleasures are nigh? 
 When the candles are lit in the parlor, 
 And the stars In the calm azure sky.' " . . . . 
 
 96
 
 THE POWER OF MUSIC 
 
 Just then the moonlight sliced the porch slantwise, 
 
 And flashed in misty spangles in the eyes 
 
 Floretty clenched while through the dark" I jing ! " 
 
 A voice asked, " Where's that song ' you'd learn to sing 
 
 Ef I sent you the ballat?' which I done 
 
 Last I was home at Freeport. S'pose you run 
 
 And git it and we'll all go in to where 
 
 They'll know the notes and sing it fer ye there." 
 
 And up the darkness of the old stairway 
 
 Floretty fled, without a word to say 
 
 Save to herself some whisper muffled by 
 
 Her apron, as she wiped her lashes dry. 
 
 Returning, with a letter, which she laid 
 Upon the kitchen-table while she made 
 A hasty crock of "float," poured thence into 
 A deep glass dish of iridescent hue 
 
 97
 
 A CHILD-WORLD 
 
 And glint and sparkle, with an overflow 
 
 Of froth to crown it, foaming white as snow. 
 
 And then poundcake, and jelly-cake as rare, 
 
 For its delicious complement, with air 
 
 Of Hebe mortalized, she led her van 
 
 Of votaries, rounded by The Hired Man.
 
 THE EVENING COMPANY 
 
 Tl 7ITHIN the sitting-room, the company 
 
 Had been increased in number. Two or three 
 Young couples had been added: Emma King, 
 Ella and Mary Mathers all could sing 
 Like veritable angels Lydia Martin, too, 
 And Nelly Millikan. What songs they knew ! 
 
 'Ever of Tbee wherever I may be. 
 Fondly I'm drea-m-ing ever of tbee I ' " 
 
 And with their gracious voices blend the graca 
 Of Warsaw Barnett's tenor; and the bass 
 Unfathomed of Wick Chapman Fancy still 
 Can feel, as well as hear it, thrill on thrill, 
 Vibrating plainly down the backs of chairs 
 And through the wall and up the old hall-stairs.- 
 99
 
 A CHILD-WORLD 
 
 Indeed young Chapman's voice especially 
 Attracted Mr. Hammond -For, said he, 
 Waiving the most Elysian sweetness of 
 The ladies' voices altitudes above 
 The man's for sweetness; but as contrast, would 
 Not Mr. Chapman be so very good 
 As, just now, to oblige all with in fact, 
 Some sort of jolly song, to counteract 
 In part, at least, the sad, pathetic trend 
 Of music generally. Which wish our friend 
 "The Noted Traveler" made second to 
 With heartiness and so each, in review, 
 Joined in until the radiant basso cleared 
 His wholly unobstructed throat and peered 
 Intently at the ceiling voice and eye 
 As opposite indeed as earth and sky. 
 Thus he uplifted his vast bass and let 
 It roam at large the memories booming yet: 
 100
 
 WICK C PI AP MAN'S BASS 
 
 " ' Old Simon the Cellarer keeps a rare store 
 
 Of Malmsey and Malvoi-sie, 
 Of Cyprus, and who can say how many more? 
 But a chary old soul Is he-e-ee 
 
 A chary old so-u-1 Is he I 
 Of hock and Canary he never doth fall; 
 And all the year 'round, there Is brewing of ale ; 
 Yet he never alleth, he quaintly doth say, 
 While he keeps to his sober six flagons a day.' " 
 
 . . . And then the chorus the men's voices all 
 Warred in it like a German Carnival. 
 Even Mrs. Hammond smiled, as in her youth, 
 Hearing her husband And in veriest truth 
 " The Noted Traveler's " ever-present hat 
 Seemed just relaxed a little, after that, 
 As at conclusion of the Bacchic song 
 He stirred his "float" vehemently and long. 
 
 Then Cousin Rufus with his flute, and art 
 Blown blithely through it from both soul and heart- 
 101
 
 A CHILD-WORLD 
 
 Inspired to heights of mastery by the glad, 
 
 Enthusiastic audience he had 
 
 In the young ladies of a town that knew 
 
 No other flutist, nay, nor wanted to, 
 
 Since they had heard his " Polly Hopkin's Waltz," 
 
 Or " Ricketf s Hornpipe," with its faultless faults, 
 
 As rendered solely, he explained, "by ear," 
 
 Having but heard it once, Commencement Year, 
 
 At "Old Ann Arbor." 
 
 Little Maymie now 
 
 Seemed "friends" with Mr. Hammond anyhow, 
 Was lifted to his lap where settled, she 
 Enthroned thus, in her dainty majesty, 
 Gained universal audience although 
 Addressing him alone: "I'm come to show 
 You my new Red-blue pencil; and she says" 
 (Pointing to Mrs. Hammond) "that she guess* 
 You'll make a picture fer me." 
 
 102
 
 AN IMPROMPTU ARTIST 
 
 "And what ktnd 
 
 Of picture?" Mr. Hammond asked, inclined 
 To serve the child as bidden, folding square 
 The piece of paper she had brought him there. 
 "I don't know," Maymie said "only ist make 
 
 A littlt dirl, like me ! " 
 
 He paused to take 
 
 A sharp view of the child, and then he drew 
 
 Awhile with red, and then awhile with blue 
 
 The outline of a little girl that stood 
 
 In converse with a wolf in a great wood; 
 
 And she had on a hood and cloak of red 
 
 As Maymie watched "Red Riding Hood!" she said. 
 
 "And who's 'Red Riding Hood'? 1 ' 
 
 "W'y, don't you know?" 
 Asked little Maymie 4 
 
 But the man looked so 
 All uninformed, that little Maymie could 
 
 But tell him all about Red Riding Hood. 
 103
 
 MAYMIE'S STORY OF RED RIDING HOOD 
 
 \~l 7'Y, one time wuz a little-weenty dirl, 
 
 An' she wuz named Red Riding Hood, 'cause her- 
 Her Ma she maked a little red cloak fer her 
 'At turnt up over her head An' it 'uz all 
 1st one piece o' red cardinul 'at 's like 
 The drate-long stockin's the store-keepers has. 
 O! it 'uz purtiest cloak in all the world 
 An' all this town er anywheres they is! 
 An* so, one day, her Ma she put it on 
 Red Riding Hood, she did one day, she did 
 
 An' it 'uz SuncPy 'cause the little cloak 
 
 * 
 
 It 'uz too nice to wear ist ever' day 
 An' all the time! An' so her Ma, she put 
 It on Red Riding Hood an' telled her not 
 104
 
 MATMIE'S STORT OF RED RIDING HOOD 
 
 To dit no dirt on it ner dit it mussed 
 
 Ner nothin'! An' an' nen her Ma she dot 
 
 Her little basket out, 'at Old Kriss bringed 
 
 Her wunst one time, he did. And nen she fill' 
 
 It full o' whole lots an' 'bundance o' good things t* eat 
 
 (Allus my Dran'ma she says ' 'bundance,' too.) 
 
 An' so her Ma fill' little Red Riding Hood's 
 
 Nice basket all ist full o' dood things t' eat, 
 
 An' tell her take 'em to her old Dran'ma 
 
 An' not to spill 'em, neever 'cause ef she 
 
 'Ud stump her toe an' spill 'em, her Dran'ma 
 
 She'll haf to punish her! 
 
 An' nen An' so 
 
 Little Red Riding Hood she p'omised she 
 'Ud be all careful nen an' cross' her heart 
 'At she wont run an' spill 'em all fer six 
 Five ten two-hundred-bushel-dollars-gold! 
 An' nen she kiss her Ma doo'-bye an' went 
 105
 
 A CHILD-WORLD 
 
 A-skippin' off away fur off frough the 
 
 Big woods, where her Dran'ma she live at. No! 
 
 She didn't do a-skippin', like I said : 
 
 She ist went walkin' careful-like an* slow 
 
 1st like a little lady walkin' 'long 
 
 As all polite an' nice an' slow an' straight 
 
 An' turn her toes ist like she's marchin' in 
 
 The Sund'y-School k-session! 
 
 An* an' so 
 
 She 'uz a-doin* along an' doin' along 
 On frough the drate big woods 'cause her Dran'ma 
 She live 'way, 'way fur off frough the big woods 
 From her Ma's house. So when Red Riding Hood 
 She dit to do there, allus have most fun 
 When she do frough the drate big woods, you know.- 
 'Cause she ain't feared a bit o' anything ! 
 An' so she sees the little hoppty-birds 
 'At's !n the trees, an' flyin' all around, 
 106
 
 MATMIE'S STORT OF RED RIDING HOOD 
 
 An' singin' dlad as ef their parunts said 
 
 They'll take 'em to the magic-lantern show! 
 
 An* she 'ud pull the purty flowers an' things 
 
 A-growin' round the stumps An* she 'ud ketch 
 
 The purty butterflies, an' drasshoppers, 
 
 An' stick pins frough 'em No! I ist said that! 
 
 'Cause she's too dood an' kind an' 'bedient 
 
 To hurt things thataway. She'd ketch 'em, though, 
 
 An' ist play wiv 'em ist a little while, 
 
 An' nen she'd let 'em fly away, she would, 
 
 An* ist skip on adin to her Dran'ma's. 
 
 An* so, while she uz doin' 'long an' 'long, 
 First thing you know they 'uz a drate big old 
 Mean wicked Wolf jumped out 'at wanted t' eat 
 Her up, but dassent to 'cause wite clos't there 
 They wuz a Man a-choppin' wood, an* you 
 Could hear him. So the old Wolf he 'uz 'ftartd 
 107
 
 A CHILD-WORLD 
 
 Only to ist be kind to her. So he 
 
 1st 'tended like he wuz dood friends to her 
 
 An' says " Dood-morning, little Red Riding Hood 1 "- 
 
 All ist as kind! 
 
 An' nen Riding Hood 
 
 She say "Dood-morning," too all kind an* nice 
 Ist like her Ma she learn' No! mustn't say 
 "Learn," cause "Learn" it's unproper. So she say 
 It like her Ma she "teached" her. An' so she 
 Ist says "Dood-morning" to the Wolf 'cause she 
 Don't know ut-tall 'at he's a wicked Wolf 
 An* want to eat her up! 
 
 Nen old Wolf smile 
 
 An' say, so kind: "Where air you doin' at?" 
 Nen little Red Riding Hood she says : "I'm doin' 
 To my Dran'ma's, 'cause my Ma say I might." 
 
 108
 
 Nen, when she tell him that, the old Wolf he 
 1st turn an' light out frough the big thick woods, 
 Where she can't see him any more. An so 
 She think he's went to his house but he haint, 
 He's went to her Dran'ma's, to be there first 
 An' ketch her, ef she don't watch mighty sharp 
 What she's about! 
 
 An' nen when the old Wolf 
 Dit to her Dran'ma's house, he's purty smart, 
 An' so he 'tend-like his Red Riding Hood, 
 An' knock at th' door. An' Riding Hood's Dran'ma 
 She's sick in bed an' can't come to the door 
 An' open it. So th' old Wolf knock two times. 
 An' nen Red Riding Hood's Dran'ma she says 
 " Who's there?" she says. An' old Wolf 'tends-like he's 
 Little Red Riding Hood, you know, an' make' 
 His voice soun' ist like hers, an* says : " If s me, 
 
 109
 
 A CHILD-WOULD 
 
 Dran'ma an* I'm Red Riding Hood an' Fm 
 1st come to see you." 
 
 Nen her old Dran'ma 
 She think It is little Red Riding Hood, 
 An' so 'she say : *' Well, come in nen an' make 
 You'se'f at home," she says, " 'cause I'm down sick 
 In bed, and got the 'ralgia, so's I can't 
 Dit up an* let ye in." 
 
 An' so th' old Wolf 
 
 1st march' in nen an* shet the door adin, 
 An' drovol, he did, an' splunge up on the bed 
 An' et up old Miz Riding Hood 'fore she 
 Could put her specs on an' see who it wuz. 
 An* so she never knowed who et her up! 
 
 An' nen the wicked Wolf he ist put on 
 Her nightcap, an' all covered up in bed 
 Like he wuz her t you know. 
 no
 
 MATMI&S STORT OF RED RIDING HOOD 
 
 Nen, purty soon 
 
 Here come along little Red Riding Hood, 
 An' she knock' at the door. An' old Wolf 'tend 
 Like he's her Dran'ma; an' he say, "Who's there?" 
 1st like her Dran'ma say, you know. An* so 
 Little Red Riding Hood she say " It's me, 
 Dran'ma an' I'm Red Riding Hood and I'm 
 1st come to see you." 
 
 An' nen old Wolf nen 
 
 He cough an* say: "Well, come in nen an' maka 
 You'se'f at home," he says, " 'cause I'm down sick 
 In bed, an' got the 'ralgia, so's I can't 
 Git up an' let ye in." 
 
 An* so she think 
 
 If s her Dran'ma a-talkin'. So she 1st 
 Open' the door an* come in, an' set down 
 Her basket, an' taked off her things, an' bringed 
 A chair an' dumbed up on the bed, wite by 
 in
 
 A CHILD-WORLD 
 
 The old big Wolf she thinks is her Dran'ma. 
 Only she thinks the old Wolf's got whole lots 
 More bigger ears, an' lots more whiskers, too, 
 Than her Dran'ma; an* so Red Riding Hood 
 She's kindo' skeered a little. So she says 
 " Oh, Dran'ma, what big eyes you dot 1 " An' nen 
 The old Wolf says: "They're 1st big thataway 
 'Cause I'm so dlad to see you ! " 
 
 Nen she says, 
 
 " Oh, Dran'ma, what a drate big nose you dot ! " 
 Nen th' old Wolf says : " It's ist big thataway 
 1st 'cause I smell the dood things 'at you bringed 
 Me in the basket!" 
 
 An' nen Riding Hood 
 
 She say " On-me-oh-wy / Dran'ma! what big 
 White long sharp teeth you dot ! " 
 
 Nen old Wolf says : 
 "Yes an* they're thataway" an' drowled 
 
 112
 
 MATMIE'S STORT OF RED RIDING HOOD 
 
 "They're thataway," he says, "to eat you wlv! 
 
 An' nen he ist jump* at her. 
 
 But she screani 
 
 An' scream?, she did So's 'at the Man 
 
 'At wuz a-choppin' wood, you know, he hear, 
 
 An' come a-runnin' in there wiv his ax; 
 
 An', 'fore the old Wolf know 5 what he's about, 
 
 He split his old brains out an' killed him s'quick 
 
 It make' his head swim ! An' Red Riding Hood 
 
 She wuzn't hurt at all! 
 
 An' the big Man 
 
 He tooked her all safe home, he did, an' tell 
 
 Her Ma she's all right an' ain't hurt at all 
 
 An' old Wolfs dead an' killed an' ever'thingf 
 
 So her Ma wuz so tickled an' so proud, 
 
 She gived him all the good things t' eat they wuz 
 
 'At's in the basket, an* she tell him 'at 
 
 She's much oblige', an' say to "call adin." 
 
 An' story's honest truth an' all so, tool 
 8 "3
 
 T 
 
 LIMITATIONS OF GENIUS 
 
 HE audience entire seemed pleased indeed 
 Extremely pleased. And little Maymie, freed 
 From her task of instructing, ran to show 
 Her wondrous colored picture to and fro 
 Among the company. 
 
 "And how comes it," said 
 Some one to Mr. Hammond, "that, instead 
 Of the inventor's life you did not choose 
 The artist's ? since the world can better lose 
 A cutting-box or reaper than it can 
 A noble picture painted by a man 
 Endowed with gifts this drawing would suggest " 
 Holding the picture up to show the rest. 
 " Thtrt now!" chimed in the wife, her pale face lit 
 Like winter snow with sunrise over it, 
 
 "4
 
 MR. HAMMOND CATECHISED 
 
 " That's what Pm always asking him. But kt- 
 Well, as he's answering you, he answers mt t 
 With that same silent, suffocating smile 
 He's wearing now ! " 
 
 For quite a little while 
 No further speech from anyone, although 
 All looked at Mr. Hammond and that slow, 
 Immutable, mild smile of his. And then 
 The encouraged querist asked him yet again 
 Why was it, and etcetera with all 
 The rest, expectant, waiting 'round the wall, 
 Until the gentle Mr. Hammond said 
 He'd answer with a "parable" instead 
 About " a dreamer " that he used to know 
 "An artist" "master" all in embryo.
 
 H 
 
 MR. HAMMOND'S PARABLE 
 
 THE DREAMER 
 
 I 
 
 E was a Dreamer of the Days: 
 Indolent as a lazy breeze 
 Of midsummer, in idlest ways 
 
 Lolling about in the shade of trees. 
 The farmer turned as he passed him by 
 
 Under the hillside where he kneeled 
 Plucking a flower with scornful eye 
 
 And rode ahead in the harvest field 
 Muttering" Lawz ! ef that-air shirk 
 
 Of a boy was mine fer a week er so, 
 He'd quit dreamin' and git to work 
 
 And aim his livin' er Well ! / know 1 " 
 And even kindlier rumor said, 
 Tapping with finger a shaking head, 
 116
 
 MR. HAMMONDS PARABLE 
 
 "Got such a curious kind o' way 
 Wouldn't surprise me much, I sayl" 
 
 Lying limp, with upturned gaze 
 Idly dreaming away his days. 
 No companions? Yes, a book 
 Sometimes under his arm he took 
 To read aloud to a lonesome brook. 
 
 And school-boys, truant, once had heard 
 A strange voice chanting, faint and dim 
 Followed the echoes, and found it him, 
 
 Perched in a tree-top like a bird, 
 Singing, clean from the highest limb; 
 And, fearful and awed, they all slipped by 
 To wonder in whispers if he could fly.
 
 A CHILD-WORLD 
 
 "Let him alone!" his father said 
 
 When the old schoolmaster came to say, 
 "He took no part in his books to-day- 
 Only the lesson the readers read. 
 
 His mind seems sadly going astray ! " 
 "Let him alone!" came the mournful tone, 
 And the father's grief in his sad eyes shone 
 Hiding his face in his trembling hand, 
 Moaning, "Would I could understand! 
 But as heaven wills it I accept 
 Uncomplainingly ! " So he wept. 
 
 \ 
 Then went " The Dreamer " as he willed, 
 
 As uncontrolled as a light sail filled 
 Flutters about with an empty boat 
 Loosed from its moorings and afloat: 
 Drifted out from the busy quay 
 Of dull school-moorings listlessly; 
 118
 
 MR. HAMMOND'S PARABLE 
 
 Drifted off on the talking breeze, 
 All alone with his reveries; 
 Drifted on, as his fancies wrought 
 Out on the mighty gulfs of thought 
 
 II 
 
 The farmer came in the evening gray 
 
 And took the bars of the pasture down ; 
 Called to the cows in a coaxing way, 
 " Bess " and " Lady " and " Spot" and " Brown," 
 While each gazed with a wide-eyed stare, 
 As though surprised at his coming there- 
 Till another tone, in a higher key, 
 Brought their obeyance lothfully. 
 
 Then, as he slowly turned and swung 
 The topmost bar to its proper rest, 
 Something fluttered along and clung 
 
 An instant, shivering at his breast 
 "9
 
 A CHILD-WORLD 
 
 A wind-scared fragment of legal cap, 
 Which darted again, as he struck his hand 
 
 On his sounding chest with a sudden slap, 
 And hurried sailing across the land. 
 But as it clung he had caught the glance 
 Of a little penciled countenance, 
 And a glamour of written words; and hence, 
 A minute later, over the fence, 
 'Here and there and gone astray 
 Over the hills and far away," 
 He chased it into a thicket of trees 
 And took it away from the captious breeze. 
 
 A scrap of paper with a rhyme 
 Scrawled upon it of summertime: 
 A pencil-sketch of a dairy-maid, 
 Under a farmhouse porch's shade, 
 
 IV)
 
 MR. HAMMOND'S PARABLE 
 
 Working merrily; and was blent 
 With her glad features such sweet content, 
 That a song she sung in the lines below 
 Seemed delightfully apropos: 
 
 SONG 
 
 "Why do I sing Tra-la-U-la-la I 
 Glad as a King? Tra-la-la-la-Ia! 
 Well, since you ask. 
 I have such a pleasant task, 
 I can not help but sing! 
 
 "Why do I smile Tra-la-la-la-lal 
 Working the while? Tra-la-la-la-lal 
 Work like this Is play. 
 So I'm playing all the day 
 I can not help but smile I 
 
 "So. if you please Tra-la-la-la-lal 
 Live at your ease 1 Tra-la-Ia-la-la ! 
 You've only got to turn, 
 And. you see, its bound to churn 
 I' can oot help but please ! " 
 
 121
 
 A CHILD-WORLD 
 
 The farmer pondered and scratched his head, 
 
 Reading over each mystic word. 
 " Some o' the Dreamer's work ! " he said 
 "Ah, here's more and name and date 
 In his hand-write* ! " And the good man read,- 
 " ' Patent applied for, July third, 
 
 Eighteen hundred and forty-eight ' ! " 
 The fragment fell from his nerveless grasp 
 His awed lips thrilled with the joyous gasp : 
 " I see the p'int to the whole concern, 
 He's studied out a patent churn I "
 
 FLORETTY'S MUSICAL CONTRIBUTION 
 
 A LL seemed delighted, though the elders more, 
 Of course, than were the children. Thus, before 
 Much interchange of mirthful compliment, 
 The story-teller said his stories "went" 
 (Like a bad candle) best when they went out, 
 And that some sprightly music, dashed about, 
 Would wholly quench his "glimmer," and inspire 
 Far brighter lights. 
 
 And, answering this desire, 
 The flutist opened, in a rapturous strain 
 Of rippling notes a perfect April-rain 
 Of melody that drenched the senses through; 
 Then gentler gentler as the dusk sheds dew, 
 It fell, by velvety, staccatoed halts, 
 Swooning away In old "Von Weber's Waltz." 
 
 12}
 
 A CHILD-WORLD 
 
 Then the young ladies sang "Isle of the Sea" 
 In ebb and flow and wave so billowy, 
 Only with quavering breath and folded eyes 
 The listeners heard, buoyed on the fall and rise 
 Of its insistent and exceeding stress 
 
 Of sweetness and ecstatic tenderness 
 
 With lifted finger yet, Remembrance Listl 
 "Beautiful isle of tht seat" wells in a mist 
 
 Of tremulous 
 
 .... After much whispering 
 Among the children, Alex came to bring 
 Some kind of letter as it seemed to be 
 To Cousin Rufus. This he carelessly 
 Unfolded reading to himself alone, 
 But, since its contents became, later, known, 
 And no one "plagued so awful bad," the same 
 May here be given of course without full 
 
 124
 
 A MUSICAL INCLOSURS 
 
 Fac-simile, or written kink or curl 
 Or clue. It read : 
 
 "Wild Roved an Indian Girl 
 Brite al Floretty" 
 
 deer freind 
 
 i now take 
 
 4liis* These means to send that Song to you & make 
 my Promus good to you in the Regards 
 Of doing What i Promust afterwards, 
 the notes & Words is both here Printed sos 
 you 4d^ can git uncle Mart to read you -then*' those 
 & cousin Rufus you can git to Play 
 the notes fur you on eny Plezunt day 
 His Legul Work aint ppcociiVi Pressing. 
 
 Ever thine 
 
 As shore as the Vine 
 doth the Stump intwine 
 thou art my Lump of Sackkerrlne 
 Rinaldo Rinaldine 
 the Pirut in Captivity. 
 
 There dropped 
 
 Another square scrap. But the hand was stopped 
 125
 
 A CHILD-WORLD 
 
 That reached for ft Floretty suddenly 
 Had set a firm foot on her property- 
 Thinking it was the letter, not the song, 
 But blushing to discover she was wrong, 
 When, with all gravity of face and air, 
 Her precious letter handed to her there 
 By Cousin Rufus left her even more 
 In apprehension than she was before. 
 But, testing his unwavering, kindly eye, 
 She seemed to put her last suspicion by, 
 And, in exchange, handed the song to him. 
 
 A page torn from a song-book: Small and dim 
 Both notes and words were but as plain as day 
 They seemed to him, as he began to play 
 And plain to all the singers, as he ran 
 An airy, warbling prelude, then began 
 Singing and swinging in so blithe a strain, 
 
 That every voice rang in the old refrain: 
 126
 
 MOUNTAIN MAID'S INVITATION. 
 
 ARRANGED BT J. Z. GOCTJ>. 
 
 r 
 
 
 C * 
 
 Com; where J. 
 
 Tre ts<i shrab witb gems a - dom, Jew - eh bright 
 
 -LIL-I : M *' 
 
 
 Bsu - iv all 
 
 
 Whi the .i.-i\ ,- t .n;!y gone, 
 EvtMiinLT sb:u!"Ws coming OB, 
 Tbn ? by love, kindly won, 
 
 Truest bliss be thine .' 
 Ne'er was found a bliss so pure, 
 Never joys long endnre ; 
 Who wooW not love secure ? 
 
 Who won].) jf.ys <lccliue t 
 
 Tra Is la la, trsi la la 
 
 Tra la la l:u tm la 1^ 
 \Vliu wmili! ii"t lnv; sernre? 
 
 Who would j,,y3 decline ?
 
 THE JOKER VANQUISHED 
 
 From the beginning of the song, clean through, 
 Floretty's features were a study to 
 The flutist who " read notes " so readily, 
 Yet read so little of the mystery 
 Of that face of the girl's. Indeed one thing 
 Bewildered him quite into worrying, 
 And that was, noticing, throughout it all, 
 The Hired Man shrinking closer to the wall, 
 She ever backing toward him through the throng 
 Of barricading children till the song 
 Was ended, and at last he saw her near 
 Enough to reach and take him by the ear 
 And pinch it just a pang's worth of her Ire 
 And leave it burning like a coal of fire. 
 He noticed, too, in subtle pantomime 
 She seemed to dust him off, from time to time; 
 And when somebody, later, asked if she 
 Had never heard the song before" What 1 nu } w 
 wy
 
 A CHILD-WORLD 
 
 She said then blushed again and smiled, 
 "I've knowed that song sence Adam was a child! 
 It's jes a joke o' this-here man's. He's learned 
 To read and write a little, and its turned 
 His fool-head some That's all ! " 
 
 And then some one 
 
 Of the loud-wrangling boys said " Course they's none 
 No more, these days! They's Fairies ust to be, 
 But they're all dead, a hunderd years ! " said he. 
 
 "Well, there's where you're mustakened ! " in reply 
 They heard Bud's voice, pitched sharp and thin and high. 
 
 "An' how you goin' to prove it ! " 
 
 "Well, I kin I" 
 
 Said Bud, with emphasis, " They's one lives in 
 Our garden and I see Mm wunst, wiv my 
 Own eyes one time 1 did." 
 
 "Oh, what a /*/" 
 
 dl
 
 A MODERN FAIRr 
 
 " Well, nen," said the skeptic seeing thert 
 The older folks attracted" Tell us where 
 You saw him, an' all 'bout him ! ' 
 
 " Yes, my son. 
 
 If you tell ' stories,' you may tell us one," 
 The smiling father said, while Uncle Mart, 
 Behind him, winked at Bud, and pulled apart 
 His nose and chin with comical grimace 
 Then sighed aloud, with sanctimonious face, 
 " 'How good and comely it is to see 
 
 Children and parents in friendship agree ! ' 
 You fire away, Bud, on your Fairy-tale 
 Your Uncle's here to back you ! " 
 
 Somewhat pale, 
 
 And breathless as to speech, the little man 
 Gathered himself. And thus his story ran.
 
 BUD'S FAIRY-TALE 
 
 OOME peoples thinks they ain't no Fairies now 
 No more yet! But they is, I bet! 'Cause ef 
 They vntfn't Fairies, nen I' like to know 
 Who'd w'ite 'bout Fairies in the books, an' tell 
 What Fairies does, an' how their picture looks, 
 An' all an' ever'thing ! W'y, ef they don't 
 Be Fairies anymore, nen little boys 
 'U'd ist sleep when they go to sleep an* wont 
 Have ist no dweams at all, 'Cause Fairies good 
 Fairies they're a-purpose to make dweams! 
 But they is Fairies an' I know they is ! 
 'Cause one time wunst, when its all Summertime, 
 An' don't haf to be no fires in the stove 
 Er fireplace to keep warm wiv ner don't haf 
 130
 
 SUITS FAIRT-TALB 
 
 To wear old scratchy flannen shirts at all, 
 
 An' aint no freeze ner cold ner snow 1 An' an* 
 
 Old skweeky twees got all the gween leaves on 
 
 An' 1st keeps noddin', noddin' all the time, 
 
 Like they 'uz lazy an' a-twyin' to go 
 
 To sleep an' couldn't, 'cause the wind won't quit 
 
 A-blowin' in 'em, an' the birds won't stop 
 
 A-singin', so's they kin. But twees don't sleep, 
 
 1 guess ! But little boys sleeps an' Jweams, too. 
 
 An' that's a sign they's Fairies. 
 
 So, one time, 
 
 When I ben playin' " Store " wunst over in 
 The shed of their old stable, an' Ed Howard 
 He maked me quit a-bein' pardners, 'cause 
 I drinked the 'tend-like sody-water up 
 An' et the shore-nuff crackers. W'y, nen I 
 Clumbed over in our garden where the gwapes 
 Wuz purt'-nlgh ripe: An' I wuz ist a-layin* 
 131
 
 A CHILD-WORLD 
 
 There on th' old cwooked seat 'at Pa maked In 
 
 Our arbor, an' so I 'uz layin' there 
 
 A-whittlin' beets wiv my new dog-knife, an' 
 
 A-Iookin' wite up through the twimbly leaves 
 
 An' wuzn't 'sleep at all ! An'-sir ! first thing 
 
 You know, a little Fairy hopped out there! 
 
 A leeile-teenty Fairy ! hope-may-die I 
 
 An' he look' down at me, he did An' he 
 
 Ain't bigger'n a yellerbird! an' he 
 
 Say " Howdy-do ! " he did an' I could hear 
 
 Him ist as plain! 
 
 Nen / say " Howdy-do ! " 
 An' he say "/'m all hunkey, Nibsey; how 
 Is your folks comin' on?" 
 
 An' nen I say 
 
 "My name ain't 'Mbst?,' neever my name's Bud. 
 An' what's your name?" I says to him 
 
 13*
 
 BUD'S FAIRT-TALH 
 
 An' he 
 
 1st laugh an' say " 'Bud's awful funny name ! " 
 An' he ist laid back on a big bunch o' gwapes 
 An' laugh' an' laugh', he did like somebody 
 'Uz tick-el-un his feet! 
 
 An' nen 1 say 
 
 " What's your name," nen I say, "afore you bust 
 Yo'-se'f a-laughin' 'bout my name?" I says. 
 An' nen he dwy up laughin' kindo' mad 
 An' say "W'y, my name's Squidjt'cum," he says. 
 An' nen / laugh an' say "Gee! what a name!" 
 An' when I make fun of his name, like that, 
 He ist git awful mad an' spunky, an* 
 'Fore you know, he gwabbed holt of a vine 
 A big long vine 'at's danglin' up there, an* 
 He ist helt on wite tight to that, an' down 
 He swung quick past my face, he did, an* Ist 
 Kicked at me hard's he could 1 
 133
 
 A CHILD-WORLD 
 
 But I'm too quick 
 
 Per Mr. Squidjicum! \ ist weached out 
 An' ketched him, in my hand an' belt him, too, 
 An' squeezed him, ist like little wobins when 
 They can't fly yet an' git flopped out their nest 
 An' nen I turn him all wound over, an' 
 Look at him clos't, you know wite clos't, 'cause ef 
 He is a Fairy, w'y, I want to see 
 The wings he's got But he's dwessed up so fine 
 'At I can't see no wings. An' all the time 
 He's twyin' to kick me yet: An' so I take 
 F'esh holts an' squeeze agin an' harder, too; 
 An' I says, "Hold up, Mr. Squidjicum! 
 You're kickin' the w'ong man ! " I says ; an' nen 
 I ist squeeze' him, purt'-nigh my best, I did 
 An' I heerd somepin' bust! An' nen he cwied 
 An' says, " You better look out what you're doin' ! 
 You' bust' my spiderweb-suspen'ners, an* 
 134
 
 BUD'S PAIRT-TALB 
 
 You' got my roseleaf-coat all cwinkled up 
 So's I can't go to old Miss Hoodjicum's 
 Tea-party, 's'afternoon ! " 
 
 An 1 nen I says 
 "Who's 'old Miss Hoodjicum'?" I says. 
 
 An' he 
 Says " Ef you lemme loose I'll tell you." 
 
 So 
 
 1 helt the little skeezics 'way fur out 
 In one hand so's he can't jump down f th' ground 
 Wivout a-gittin' all stove up: an' nen 
 I says, "You're loose now. Go ahead an' tell 
 'Bout the 'tea-party' where you're goin* at 
 So awful fast!" I says. 
 
 An* nen he say, 
 
 " No use to Ml you 'bout it, 'cause you wont 
 Believe it, 'less you go there your own se'f 
 An' see it wiv your own two eyes ! " he says. 
 135
 
 A CHILD-WORLD 
 
 An* he says : " Ef you lemme shore-nuff loose, 
 An' p'omise 'at you'll keep wite still, an' won't 
 Tetch nothin' 'at you see an' never tell 
 Nobody in the world an' lemme loose 
 W'y, nen I'll take you there ! " 
 
 But I says, "Yes 
 
 An' ef I let you loose, you'll run!" I says. 
 An' he says " No, I won't ! I hope may die ! " 
 Nen I says, "Cross your heart you won't!" 
 
 An' he 
 
 1st cross his heart; an' nen I reach an' set 
 The little feller up on a long vine 
 An' he 'uz so tickled to git loose agin, 
 He gwab' the vine wiv boff his little hands 
 An' ist take an' turn in, he did, an' skin 
 'Bout forty-'leven cats ! 
 
 Nen when he git 
 
 Through whirlin' wound the vine, an' set on top 
 136
 
 BUD'S FAIRT-TALE 
 
 Of it agin, w'y, nen his " woseleaf-coat " 
 
 He bwag so much about, it's ist all tored 
 
 Up, an' ist hangin' strips an' rags so he 
 
 Look like his Pa's a dwunkard. An' so nen 
 
 When he see what he's done a-actin' up 
 
 So smart, he's awful mad, I guess; an' ist 
 
 Pout out his lips an' twis' his little face 
 
 Ist ugly as he kin, an' set an' tear 
 
 His whole coat off an' sleeves an' all. An' nen 
 
 He wad it all togevver an' ist throw 
 
 It at me ist as hard as he kin drive! 
 
 An' when I weach to ketch him, an' 'uz goin' 
 To give him 'nuvver squeezin', he ist flevied 
 Clean up on top the arbor! 'Cause, you know, 
 They viu^ wings on him when he tored his coat 
 Clean off they wu% wings under there. But they 
 Wuz purty wobbly-like an* wouldn't work 
 
 Hardly at all 'Cause purty soon, when I 
 137
 
 A CHILD-WORLD 
 
 Throwed clods at him, an' sticks, an' got him shooed 
 Down off o' there, he come a-floppin' down 
 An* lit k-bang! on our old chicken-coop, 
 An' ist laid there a-whimper'n' like a child! 
 An' I tiptoed up wite clos't, an' I says "What's 
 The matter wiv ye, Squidjicum?" 
 
 An' he 
 
 Says : " Dog-gone ! when my wings gits stwaight agin, 
 Where you all crumpled 'em," he says, " I bet 
 I'll ist fly clean away an' won't take you 
 To old Miss Hoodjicum's at all ! " he says. 
 An' nen I ist weach out wite quick, I did, 
 An' gwab the sassy little snipe agin 
 Nen tooked my topstwing an' tie down his wings 
 So's he can't fly, 'less'n I want him to ! 
 An' nen I says: "Now, Mr. Squidjicum, 
 You better ist light out," I says, "to old 
 Miss Hoodjicum's, an' show me how to git 
 138
 
 BUD'S FAIRT-TALB 
 
 There, too," I says; "er ef you don't," I says, 
 " I'll climb up wiv you on our buggy-shed 
 An' push you off ! " I says. 
 
 An nen he say 
 
 All wight, he'll show me there ; an' tell me nen 
 To set him down wite easy on his feet, 
 An' loosen up the stwing a little where 
 It cut him under th' arms. An' nen he says, 
 " Come on ! " he says ; an' went a-limpin' 'long 
 The garden-path an' limpin' 'long an' 'long 
 Tel purty soon he come on 'long to where's 
 A grea'-big cabbage-leaf. An' he stoop down 
 An' say " Come on inunder here wiv me ! " 
 So / stoop down an' crawl inunder there, 
 Like he say. 
 
 An' inunder there's a grea' 
 Big clod, they is a awful grea' big clod! 
 An' nen he says, "Roll this-hcre clod away!" 
 139
 
 A CHILD-WORLD 
 
 An' so I roll' the clod away. An' nen 
 It's all wet, where the dew'z inunder where 
 The old clod wuz, an' nen the Fairy he 
 Git on the wet-place: Nen he say to me 
 "Git on the wet-place, too!" An' nen he say, 
 " Now hold yer breff an' shet yer eyes ! " he says, 
 "Tel I say Squinchy-winchy!" Nen he say 
 Somepin in Dutch, I guess. An' nen I felt 
 Like we 'uz sinkin' down an' sinkin' down ! 
 Tel purty soon the little Fairy weach 
 An' pinch my nose an' yell at me an' say, 
 " Squinchy-viinchy ! Look wherever you please .'" 
 Nen when I looked Oh! they 'uz purtyest place 
 Down there you ever saw in all the World ! 
 They 'uz ist flowers an' woses yes, an' twees 
 Wiv blossoms on an' big ripe apples boff! 
 An' butterflies, they wuz an' hummin'-birds 
 An' jvlloiebirds an' blutbirds yes, an' red! 
 140
 
 BUD'S FAIRT-TALE 
 
 An' ever'wheres an' all awound 'uz vines 
 
 Wiv ripe p'serve-pears on 'em! Yes, an' all 
 
 An' ever'thing 'at's ever gwowin' in 
 
 A garden er canned up all ripe at wunst ! 
 
 It wuz ist like a garden only it 
 
 'Uz 1st a little bit o' garden 'bout big wound 
 
 As ist our twun'el-bed is. An' all wound 
 
 An' wound the little garden's a gold fence 
 
 An' little gold gate, too an' ash-hopper 
 
 'At's all gold, too an' ist full o' gold ashes! 
 
 An' wite in th' middle o' the garden wuz 
 
 A little gold house, 'at's ist 'bout as big 
 
 As ist a bird-cage is : An' in the house 
 
 They 'uz whole-lots more Fairies there 'cause I 
 
 Picked up the little house, an' peeked in at 
 
 The winders, an' I see 'em all in there 
 
 Ist buggin' round ! An' Mr. Squidjicum 
 
 He twy to make me quit, but I gwab him,
 
 A CHILD-WORLD 
 
 An' poke him down the chimbly, too, I did! 
 An' y'ort to see him hop out 'mongst 'em there! 
 1st like he 'uz the boss an' ist got back! 
 "Hain't ye got on them-air dew-dumplings yet ? " 
 
 He says. 
 
 An' they says no. 
 
 An* nen he says 
 
 "Better git at 'em nen!" he says, " wile quick 
 'Cause old Miss Hoodjicum's a-comin* !" 
 
 Nen 
 
 They all set wound a little gold tub an' 
 All 'menced a-peelin' dewdrops, ist like they 
 'Uz peaches. An', it looked so funny, I 
 1st laugh' out loud, an' dropped the little house, 
 An* 't busted like a soap-bubble! An't skeered 
 Me so, I I I I, it skeered me so, 
 I ist waked up. No ! I ain't ben asleep 
 An' dream it all, like you think, but its shore 
 
 Fer-certain fact an' cross my heart it is ! 
 142
 
 A 
 
 A DELICIOUS INTERRUPTION 
 
 LL were quite gracious in their plaudits of 
 Bud's Fairy; but another stir above 
 That murmur was occasioned by a sweet 
 Young lady-caller, from a neighboring street, 
 Who rose reluctantly to say good-night 
 To all the pleasant friends and the delight 
 Experienced, as she had promised sure 
 To be back home by nine. Then paused, demure, 
 And wondered was it very dark. Oh, no! 
 She had come by herself and she could go 
 Without an escort. Ah, you sweet girls all ! 
 What young gallant but comes at such a call, 
 Your most abject of slaves ! Why, there were three 
 Young men, and several men of family,
 
 A CHILD-WORLD 
 
 Contesting for the honor which at last 
 Was given to Cousin Rufus; and he cast 
 A kingly look behind him, as the pair 
 Vanished with laughter in the darkness there. 
 
 As order was restored, with everything 
 
 Suggestive, in its way, of "romancing," 
 
 Some one observed that now would be the chance 
 
 For Noey to relate a circumstance 
 
 That he the very specious rumor went 
 
 Had been eye-witness of, by accident. 
 
 Noey turned pippin-crimson; then turned pale 
 
 As death ; then turned to flee, without avail. 
 
 "There! head him off! Now! hold him in his chair !- 
 
 Tell us the Serenade-tale, now, Noey. Then/"
 
 '"p 
 
 NOEY'S NIGHT-PIECE 
 
 HEY ain't much 'tale' about it!" Noey said. 
 " K'tawby grapes wuz gittin' good-n-red 
 I rickollect; and Tubb Kingry and me 
 'Ud kindo' browse round town, daytime, to see 
 What neighbers 'peared to have the most to spare 
 'At wuz git-at-able and no dog there 
 When we come round to git 'em, say 'bout ten 
 O'clock at night when mostly old folks then 
 Wuz snorin' at each other like they yit 
 Kelt some old grudge 'at never slep' a bit. 
 Well, at the Pars'mgetf ye'll call to mind, 
 They's 'bout the biggest grape-arber you'll find 
 'Most anywheres. And mostly there, we knowed 
 They wuz Vtatabies thick as ever growed
 
 A CHILD-WORLD 
 
 And more'n they'd p'serve. Besides I've heerd 
 Ma say k'tawby-grape-p'serves jes 'peared 
 A waste o' sugar, anyhow! And so 
 My conscience stayed outside and lem me go 
 With Tubb, one night, the back-way, clean up through 
 That long black arber to the end next to 
 The house, where the k'tawbies, don't you know, 
 Wuz thickest And t'uz lucky we went slow, 
 Per jest as we wuz cropin' tords the gray- 
 End, like, of the old arber heerd Tubb say 
 In a skeered whisper, 'Hold up! They's some one 
 Jes slippin' in here ! and looks like a gun 
 He's carryin' ! ' I golly! we both spread 
 Out flat aginst the ground ! 
 
 "'What's that?' Tubb said. 
 
 And jest then 'plink! plunk! plmk/' we heerd something 
 Under the back-porch-winder. Then, 1 jlngl 
 
 146
 
 NORTHS NIGHT-PIECE 
 
 Of course we rickollected 'bout the young 
 
 School-mam 'at wuz a-boardin' there, and sung, 
 
 And played on the melodium in the choir. 
 
 And she 'uz 'bout as purty to admire 
 
 As any girl in town ! the fac's is, she 
 
 Jest .{, them times, to a dead certainty, 
 
 The belle o' this-here bailywick ! But Well, 
 
 I'd best git back to what I'm tryin' to tell: 
 
 It wuz some feller come to serenade 
 
 Miss Wetherell : And there he plunked and played 
 
 His old guitar, and sung, and kep' his eye 
 
 Set on her winder, blacker'n the sky ! 
 
 And black it stayed. But mayby she wuz 'way 
 
 From home, er wore out bein' Saturday! 
 
 " It seemed a good-'eal longer, but I know 
 
 He sung and plunked there half a' hour er so 
 
 147
 
 A CHILD-WORLD 
 
 Afore, it 'peared like, he could ever git 
 His own free qualified consents to quit 
 And go off 'bout his business. When he went 
 I bet you could a-bought him fer a centl 
 
 "And now, behold ye all ! as Tubb and me 
 Wuz 'bout to raise up, right in front we see 
 A feller slippin' out the arber, square 
 Smack under that-air little winder where 
 The other feller had been standin'. And 
 The thing he wuz a-carryin' in his hand 
 Wuzn't no gun at all! It wuz a flute, 
 And whoop-eel how it did git up and toot 
 And chirp and warble, tel a mockin'-bird 
 'Ud dast to never let hisse'f be heerd 
 Ferever, after sich miracalous, high 
 Jim-cracks and grand skyrootics played there by 
 
 I4S
 
 NOETS NIGHT-PIECE 
 
 Yer Cousin Rufus ! Yes-sir ; it wuz him ! 
 
 And what's more, all a-suddent that-air dim 
 
 Dark winder o' Miss WetherelFs wuz lit 
 
 Up like a' oyshture-sign, and under it 
 
 We see him sort o' wet his lips and smile 
 
 Down 'long his row o' dancin' fingers, while 
 
 He kindo' stiffened up and kinked his breath 
 
 And everlastin'ly jest blowed the peth 
 
 Out o' that-air old one-keyed flute o' his. 
 
 And, bless their hearts, that's all the 'tale' they is!" 
 
 And even as Noey closed, all radiantly 
 The unconscious hero of the history, 
 Returning, met a perfect driving storm 
 Of welcome a reception strangely warm 
 And unaccountable, to him, although 
 Most gratifying, and he told them so. 
 
 149
 
 A CHILD-WORLD 
 
 " I only urge," he said, " my right to be 
 Enlightened." And a voice said: "Certainly.* 
 During your absence we agreed that you 
 Should tell us all a story, old or new, 
 Just in the immediate happy frame of mind 
 We knew you would return in." 
 
 So, resigned, 
 
 The ready flutist tossed his hat aside 
 Glanced at the children, smiled, and thus complied. 
 
 150
 
 COUSIN RUFUS' STORY 
 
 |\ /I Y little story, Cousin Rufus said, 
 Is not so much a story as a fact. 
 It is about a certain willful boy 
 An aggrieved, unappreciated boy, 
 Grown to dislike his own home very much, 
 By reason of his parents being not 
 At all up to his rigid standard and 
 Requirements and exactions as a son 
 And disciplinarian. 
 
 So, sullenly 
 
 He brooded over his disheartening 
 Environments and limitations, till, 
 At last, well knowing that the outside world 
 Would yield him favors never found at home,
 
 A CHILD-WORLD 
 
 He rose determinedly one July dawn 
 Even before the call for breakfast and, 
 Climbing the alley-fence, and bitterly 
 Shaking his clenched fist at the woodpile, he 
 Evanished down the turnpike. Yes: he had, 
 Once and for all, put into execution 
 His long low-muttered threatenings He had 
 Run off! He had had run away from home! 
 
 His parents, at discovery of his flight, 
 Bore up first-rate especially his Pa, 
 Quite possibly recalling his own youth, 
 And therefrom predicating, by high noon, 
 The absent one was very probably 
 Disporting his nude self in the delights 
 Of the old swimmin'-hole, some hundred yards 
 Below the slaughter-house, just east of town. 
 
 152
 
 COUSIN RUFUS' STORT 
 
 The stoic father, too, in his surmise 
 
 Was accurate For, lo ! the boy was there ! 
 
 And there, too, he remained throughout the day- 
 Save at one starving interval in which 
 He clad his sunburnt shoulders long enough 
 To shy across a wheatfield, shadow-like, 
 And raid a neighboring orchard bitterly, 
 And with spasmodic twitchings of the lip, 
 Bethinking him how all the other boys 
 Had homes to go to at the dinner-hour 
 While hf alas \h e had no home /At least 
 These very words seemed rising mockingly, 
 Until his every thought smacked raw and sour 
 And green and bitter as the apples he 
 In vain essayed to stay his hunger with.
 
 A CHILD-WORLD 
 
 Nor did he join the glad shouts when the boys 
 Returned rejuvenated for the long 
 Wet revel of the feverish afternoon. 
 Yet, bravely, as his comrades splashed and swam 
 And spluttered, in their weltering merriment, 
 He tried to laugh, too, but his voice was hoarse 
 And sounded to him like some other boy's. 
 And then he felt a sudden, poking sort 
 Of sickness at the heart, as though some cold 
 And scaly pain were blindly nosing it 
 Down in the dreggy darkness of his breast. 
 The tensioned pucker of his purple lips 
 Grew ever chillier and yet more tense 
 The central hurt of it slow spreading till 
 It did possess the little face entire. 
 And then there grew to be a knuckled knot 
 An aching kind of core within his throat 
 An ache, all dry and swallowless, which seemed 
 J54
 
 COUSIN RUFUS' STORT 
 
 To ache on just as bad when he'd pretend 
 He didn't notice it as when he did. 
 It was a kind of a conceited pain 
 An overbearing, self-assertive and 
 Barbaric sort of pain that clean outhurt 
 A boy's capacity for suffering 
 So, many times, the little martyr needs 
 Must turn himself all suddenly and dive 
 From sight of his hilarious playmates and 
 Surreptitiously weep under water. 
 
 Thus 
 
 He wrestled with his awful agony 
 Till almost dark ; and then, at last then, with 
 The very latest lingering group of his 
 Companions, he moved turgidly toward home 
 Nay, rather oo^ed that way, so slow he went, 
 With lothful, hesitating, loitering, 
 Reluctant, late-election-returns air, 
 155
 
 A CHILD-WORLD 
 
 Heightened somewhat by the conscience-made resolve 
 Of chopping a double-armful of wood 
 As he went in by rear way of the kitchen. 
 And this resolve he executed ; yet 
 The hired girl made no comment whatsoever, 
 But went on washing up the supper-things, 
 Crooning the unutterably sad song, " Then think, 
 Oh, think how lonely this heart must ever be!" 
 Still, with affected carelessness, the boy 
 Ranged through the pantry ; but the cupboard-door 
 Was locked. He sighed then like a wet fore-stick 
 And went out on the porch. At least the pump, 
 He prophesied, would meet him kindly and 
 Shake hands with him and welcome his return ! 
 And long he held the old tin dipper up 
 And oh, how fresh and pure and sweet the draught! 
 Over the upturned brim, with grateful eyes 
 He saw the back-yard, in the gathering night, 
 156
 
 COUSIN RUFU& STORT 
 
 Vague, dim and lonesome? but it all looked good: 
 
 The lightning-bugs, against the grape-vines, blinked 
 
 A sort of sallow gladness over his 
 
 Home-coming, with this softening of the heart. 
 
 He did not leave the dipper carelessly 
 
 In the milk-trough. No: he hung it back upon 
 
 Its old nail thoughtfully even tenderly. 
 
 All slowly then he turned and sauntered toward 
 
 The rain-barrel at the corner of the house, 
 
 And, pausing, peered into it at the few 
 
 Faint stars reflected there. Then moved by some 
 
 Strange impulse new to him he washed his feet. 
 
 He then went in the house straight on into 
 
 The very room where sat his parents by 
 
 The evening lamp. The father all intent 
 
 Reading his paper, and the mother quite 
 
 As intent with her sewing. Neither looked 
 
 157
 
 A CHILD-WORLD 
 
 Up at his entrance even reproachfully, 
 And neither spoke. 
 
 The wistful runaway 
 
 Drew a long, quavering breath, and then sat down 
 Upon the extreme edge of a chair. And all 
 Was very still there for a long, long while. 
 Yet everything, someway, seemed restful-tike 
 And homey and old-fashioned, good and kind, 
 And sort of kin to him ! Only too still ! 
 If somebody would say something just speak 
 Or even rise up suddenly and come 
 And lift him by the ear sheer off his chair 
 Or box his jaws Lord bless 'em ! anything ! 
 Was he not there to thankfully accept 
 Any reception from parental source 
 Save this incomprehensible voicelessness. 
 O but the silence held its very breath ! 
 If but the ticking clock would only strike
 
 COUSIN R UFU& S TOR T 
 
 And for an instant drown the whispering, 
 Lisping, sifting sound the katydids 
 Made outside in the grassy nowhere. 
 
 Far 
 
 Down some back-street he heard the faint halloo 
 Of boys at their night-game of " Town-fox," 
 But now with no desire at all to be 
 Participating in their sport. No; no; 
 Never again in this world would he want 
 To join them there! he only wanted just 
 To stay in home of nights Always always 
 Forever and a day! 
 
 He moved; and coughed 
 
 Coughed hoarsely, too, through his rolled tongue; and yet 
 No vaguest of parental notice or 
 Solicitude in answer no response 
 No word no look. O it was deathly still 1 
 So still it was that really he could not 
 159
 
 A CHILD-WORLD 
 
 Remember any prior silence that 
 
 At all approached it in profundity 
 
 And depth and density of utter hush. 
 
 He felt that he himself must break it: So, 
 
 Summoning every subtle artifice 
 
 Of seeming nonchalance and native ease 
 
 And naturalness of utterance to his aid, 
 
 And gazing raptly at the house-cat where 
 
 She lay curled in her wonted corner of 
 
 The hearth-rug, dozing, he spoke airily 
 
 And said: "I see you've got the same old cat!'-" 
 
 160
 
 T 
 
 BEWILDERING EMOTIONS 
 
 HE merriment that followed was subdued 
 
 As though the story-teller's attitude 
 
 Were dual, in a sense, appealing quite 
 
 As much to sorrow as to mere delight, 
 
 According, haply, to the listener's bent 
 
 Either of sad or merry temperament. 
 
 "And of your two appeals I much prefer 
 
 The pathos," said " The Noted Traveler," 
 
 " For should I live to twice my present years, 
 
 I know I could not quite forget the tears 
 
 That child-eyes bleed, the little palms nailed wide, 
 
 And quivering soul and body crucified. . . . 
 
 But, bless 'em! there are no such children here 
 
 To-night, thank God ! Come here to me, my dear ! " 
 
 He said to little Alex, in a tone 
 
 So winning that the sound of it alone 
 
 -i 
 ti 161
 
 A CHILD-WORLD 
 
 Had drawn a child more lothful to his knee: 
 "And, now-sir, /'// agree if you'll agree, 
 You tell us all a story, and then / 
 Will tell one." 
 
 "But / can't." 
 
 " Well, can't you try ?" 
 "Yes, Mister: he kin tell one. Alex, tell 
 The one, you know, 'at you made up so well, 
 About the Bear. He allus tells that one," 
 Said Bud, "He gits it mixed some 'bout the gun 
 An' ax the Little Boy had, an' apples, too." 
 Then Uncle Mart said "There, now! that'll do! 
 Let Alex tell his story his own way ! " 
 And Alex, prompted thus, without delay 
 Began. 
 
 162
 
 w 
 
 THE BEAR STORY 
 
 THAT ALEX "1ST MAKED UP HIS-OWN-SE'F." 
 
 'Y, wunst they wuz a Little Boy went out 
 In the woods to shoot a Bear. So, he went out 
 'Way in the grea'-big woods he did. An* he 
 Wuz goin' along an' goin' along, you know, 
 An' purty soon he heerd somepin' go "Wooh!" 
 1st thataway "Woo-ooh!" An' he wuz sheered, 
 He wuz. An' so he runned an' dumbed a tree 
 A grea'-big tree, he did, a sicka-wzor* tree. 
 An' nen he heerd it ag'in: an' he looked round, 
 An' V Bear! a grea'-big short-nuff Bear! 
 No: 't'uz two Bears, it wuz two grea'-big Bears 
 One of 'em wuz ist one's a grea'-big Bear. 
 But they ist boff went " Wooh ! "An' here they come 
 To climb the tree an' git the Little Boy 
 An' eat him up ! 
 
 169
 
 A CHILD-WORLD 
 
 - 
 
 An' nen the Little Boy 
 He 'uz skeered worse'n ever! An' here come 
 The grea'-big Bear a-climbin' th' tree to git 
 The Little Boy an' eat him -up Oh, no! 
 It 'uzn't the Big Bear 'at dumb the tree 
 It 'uz the Little Bear. So here he come 
 Climbin' the tree an' climbin' the tree! Nen when 
 He git wite clos't to the Little Boy, w'y nen 
 The Little Boy he ist pulled up his gun 
 An' shot the Bear, he did, an' killed him dead! 
 An' nen the Bear he failed clean on down out 
 The tree away clean to the ground, he did 
 Spling-splung ! he failed plum down, an' killed him, too! 
 An' lit wite side o' where the* Big Bear's at. 
 
 An' nen the Big Bear's awful mad, you bet! 
 'Cause 'cause the Little Boy he shot his gun 
 An' killed the Little Bear. 'Cause the Big Bear 
 164
 
 THE BEAR STORT 
 
 He he 'uz the Little Bear's Papa. An' so here 
 He come to climb the big old tree an' git 
 The Little Boy an' eat him up! An' when 
 The Little Boy he saw the great-big Bear 
 A-comin', he uz badder skeered, he wuz, 
 Than any time! An' so he think he'll climb 
 Up higher 'way up higher in the tree 
 Than the old Bear kin climb, you know. But he 
 He can't climb higher 'an old Bears kin climb, 
 'Cause Bears kin climb up higher in the trees 
 Than any little Boys in all the Wo-r-r-ld! 
 
 An' so here come the grea'-big Bear, he did, 
 A-climbin' up an' up the tree, to git 
 The Little Boy an' eat him up! An' so 
 The Little Boy he dumbed on higher, an' higher, 
 An' higher up the tree an' higher an' higher 
 An' higher'n iss-here house Is! An' here come 
 165
 
 A CHILD-WORLD 
 
 Th' old Bear -clos'ter to him all the time \ 
 
 An' nen first thing you know, when th' old Big Bear 
 
 Wuz wite clos't to him nen the Little Boy 
 
 1st jabbed his gun wite in the old Bear's mouf 
 
 An' shot an' killed him dead ! No ; I fergot, 
 
 He didn't shoot the grea'-big Bear at all 
 
 'Cause they '{ no load in tht gun, you know 
 
 'Cause when he shot the Little Bear, w'y, nen 
 
 No load 'uz anymore nen in the gun ! 
 
 But th' Little Boy clumbed higher up, he did 
 He clumbed lots higher an' on up higher an' higher 
 An' higher tel he 1st can't climb no higher, 
 'Cause nen the limbs 'uz all so little, 'way 
 Up in the teeny-weeny tip-top of 
 The tree, they'd break down wiv him ef he don't 
 Be keerful ! So he stop an' think : An' nen 
 He look around An' here come th* old Bear I 
 166
 
 THE BEAR STOUT 
 
 An' so the Little Boy make up his mind 
 He's got to ist git out o' there some wayl 
 'Cause here come the old Bear! so clos't, his bref's 
 Purt 'nigh so's he kin feel how hot it is 
 Aginst his bare feet ist like old " Ring's " bref 
 When he's ben out a-huntin' an's all tired. 
 So when th' old Bear's so clos't the Little Boy 
 Ist gives a grea'-big jump fer Another tree 
 No! no he don't do that! I tell you what 
 The Little Boy does : W'y, nen w'y, he Oh, yts 
 The Little Boy he finds a hole up there 
 *Afs in the tree an' climbs in there an' hides 
 An' nen th 1 old Bear can't find the Little Boy 
 At all! But, purty soon th' old Bear finds 
 The Little Boy's gun 'at's up there 'cause the gun 
 It's too tall to tooked wiv him in the hole. 
 So, when the old Bear find' the gun, he knows 
 The Little Boy's ist hid 'round somers there, 
 167
 
 A CHILD-WORLD 
 
 An' th' old Bear 'gins to snuff an' sniff around, 
 
 An' sniff an' snuff around so's he kin find 
 
 Out where the Little Boy's hid at An' nen nen 
 
 Oh, yes! W'y, purty soon the old Bear climbs 
 
 'Way out on a big limb a grea'-long limb, 
 
 An' nen the Little Boy climbs out the hole 
 
 An' takes his ax an' chops the limb off! ... Nen 
 
 The old Bear falls k-splunge! clean to the ground 
 
 An' bust an' kill hisse'f plum dead, he did 1 
 
 An' nen the Little Boy he git his gun 
 An' 'menced a-climbin' down the tree agin 
 No ! no, he didn't git his gun 'cause when 
 The Bear failed, nen the gun failed, too An' broked 
 It all to pieces, too ! An' nicest gun ! 
 His Pa ist buyed it! An' the Little Boy 
 1st cried, he did; an' went on climbin' down 
 The tree an' climbin' down an' climbin' down ! 
 168
 
 THE BEAR STORT 
 
 An'~sir! when he 'uz purt'-nigh down, w*y, nen 
 
 The old Bear he jumped up agin! an' he 
 
 Ain't dead at all tit 'tendin' thataway, 
 
 So he kin git the Little Boy ?n' eat 
 
 Him up ! But the Little Boy he 'uz too smart 
 
 To climb clean down the tree. An' the old Bear 
 
 He can't climb up the tree no more 'cause when 
 
 He fell, he broke one of his He broke all 
 
 His legs ! an' nen he couldn't climb ! But he 
 
 1st won't go 'way an' let the Little Boy 
 
 Come down out of the tree. An' the old Bear 
 
 1st growls 'round there, he does ist growls an' goes 
 
 "Wooh!woo-ooh!" all the time! An' Little Boy 
 
 He haf to stay up in the tree all night 
 
 An' 'thout no supper neither! Only they 
 
 Wuz apples on the tree! An' Little Boy 
 
 Et apples ist all night an' cried an' cried 1 
 
 169
 
 A CHILD-WORLD 
 
 Nen when 'tuz morning th' old Bear went "Wooh!" 
 Agin, an' try to climb up in the tree 
 An' git the Little Boy. But he cant 
 Climb t'save his soul, he can't! An' oh! he's mad! 
 He ist tear up the ground! an' go " Woo-ooh ! " 
 An' Oh, yes! purty soon, when morning's come 
 All light so's you kin see, you know, w'y, nen 
 The old Bear finds the Little Boy's gun, you know, 
 'At's on the ground. (An' it ain't broke at all 
 I ist said that !) An' so the old Bear think 
 He'll take the gun an' shoot the Little Boy : 
 But Bears they don't know much 'bout shootin* guns: 
 So when he go to shoot the Little Boy, 
 The old Bear got the other end the gun 
 Agin his shoulder, 'stid o' th'other end- 
 So when he try to shoot the Little Boy, 
 It shot the Bear, it did an' killed him dead ! 
 An' nen the Little Boy dumb down the tree 
 170
 
 THE BEAR STORT 
 
 An' chopped his old wooly head off : Yes, an' killed 
 
 The other Bear agin, he did an' killed 
 
 All boff the bears, he did an' tuk 'em home 
 
 An' cooked 'em, too, an' et 'em I 
 
 An' that's all.
 
 THE PATHOS OF APPLAUSE 
 
 HPHE greeting of the company throughout 
 Was like a jubilee, the children's shout 
 And fusillading hand-claps, with great guns 
 And detonations of the older ones, 
 Raged to such tumult of tempestuous joy, 
 It even more alarmed than pleased the boy; 
 Till, with a sudden twitching lip, he slid 
 Down to the floor and dodged across and hid 
 His face against his mother as she raised 
 Him to the shelter of her heart, and praised 
 His story in low whisperings, and smoothed 
 The "amber-colored hair," and kissed, and soothed 
 And lulled him back to sweet tranquillity 
 "And 'ats a sign 'at you're the Ma fer me ! " 
 172
 
 THE PATHOS OF APPLAUSE 
 
 He lisped, with gurgling ecstasy, and drew 
 Her closer, with shut eyes ; and feeling, too, 
 If he could only purr now like a cat, 
 He would undoubtedly be doing that! 
 
 "And now" the serious host said, lifting there 
 A hand entreating silence ; " now, aware 
 Of the good promise of our Traveler guest 
 To add some story with and for the rest, 
 I think I favor you, and him as well, 
 Asking a story I have heard him tell, 
 And know its truth, in each minute detail : " 
 Then leaning on his guest's chair, with a hale 
 Hand-pat by way of full indorsement, he 
 Said, "Yes the Free-Slave story certainly." 
 
 The old man, with his waddy notebook out, 
 And glittering spectacles, glanced round about 
 173
 
 A CHILD-WORLD 
 
 The expectant circle, and still firmer drew 
 His hat on, with a nervous cough or two: 
 And, save at times the big hard words, and tone 
 Of gathering passion all the speaker's own, 
 The tale that set each childish heart astir 
 Was thus told by "The Noted Traveler." 
 
 '74
 
 TOLD BY "THE NOTED TRAVELER" 
 
 /"DOMING, clean from the Maryland-end 
 Of this great National Road of ours, 
 Through your vast West; with the time to spend, 
 Stopping for days in the main towns, where 
 Every citizen seemed a friend, 
 And friends grew thick as the wayside flowers, 
 I found no thing that I might narrate 
 More singularly strange or queer 
 Than a thing I found in your sister-state 
 Ohio, at a river-towndown here 
 In my notebook: Zanes-oille situate 
 On the stream Muskingum broad and clear, 
 And navigable, through half the year, 
 North, to Coshocton ; south, as far 
 At Marietta. But these facts an 
 175
 
 A CHILD-WORLD 
 
 Not of the story, but the scene 
 
 Of the simple little tale I mean 
 
 To tell directly from this, straight through 
 
 To the end that is best worth listening to : 
 
 Eastward of Zanesville, two or three 
 Miles from the town, as our stage drove in, 
 1 on the driver's seat, and he 
 Pointing out this and that to me, 
 On beyond us among the rest 
 A grovey slope, and a fluttering throng 
 Of little children, which he "guessed" 
 Was a picnic, as we caught their thin 
 High laughter, as we drove along, 
 Clearer and clearer. Then suddenly 
 He turned and asked, with a curious grin, 
 What were my views on Slavery? "Why?" 
 I asked, in return, with a wary eye. 
 176
 
 TOLD BT "THE NOTED TRAVELER" 
 
 "Because," he answered, pointing his whip 
 
 At a little, whitewashed house and shed 
 
 On the edge of the road by the grove ahead, 
 
 "Because there are two slaves there," he said 
 
 "Two Black slaves that I've passed each trip 
 
 For eighteen years. Though they've been set free, 
 
 They have been slaves ever since ! " said he. 
 
 And, as our horses slowly drew 
 
 Nearer the little house in view, 
 
 All briefly I heard the history 
 
 Of this little old Negro woman and 
 
 Her husband, house and scrap of land; 
 
 How they were slaves and had been made free 
 
 By their dying master, years ago 
 
 In old Virginia; and then had come 
 
 North here into a free state so, 
 
 Safe forever, to found a home 
 
 For themselves alone? for they left South there 
 
 ia I77
 
 A CHILD-WORLD 
 
 Five strong sons, who had, alas! 
 
 All been sold ere it came to pass 
 
 This first old master with his last breath 
 
 Had freed the parents. (He went to death 
 
 Agonized and in dire despair 
 
 That the poor slave children might not share 
 
 Their parents' freedom. And wildly then 
 
 He moaned for pardon and died. Amen!) 
 
 Thus, with their freedom, and little sum 
 Of money left them, these two had come 
 North, full twenty long years ago; 
 And, settling there, they had hopefully 
 Gone to work, in their simple way, 
 Hauling gardening raising sweet 
 Corn, and popcorn. Bird and bee 
 In the garden-blooms and the apple-tree 
 Singing with them throughout the slow 
 178
 
 TOLD BT "THE NOTED TRAVELER" 
 
 Summer's day, with its dust and heat 
 The crops that thirst and the rains that fail; 
 Or in Autumn chill, when the clouds hung low, 
 And hand-made hominy might find sale 
 In the near town-market ; or baking pies 
 And cakes, to range in alluring show 
 At the little window, where the eyes 
 Of the Movers' children, driving past, 
 Grew fixed, till the big white wagons drew 
 Into a halt that would sometimes last 
 Even the space of an hour or two 
 As the dusty, thirsty travelers made 
 Their noonings there in the beeches' shade 
 By the old black Aunty's spring-house, where, 
 Along with its cooling draughts, were found 
 Jugs of her famous sweet spruce-beer, 
 Served with her gingerbread-horses there, 
 
 179
 
 A CHILD-WORLD 
 
 While Aunty's snow-white cap bobbed 'round 
 Till the children's rapture knew no bound, 
 As she sang and danced for them, quavering clear 
 And high the chant of her old slave-days 
 
 " Oh, Lo'd, Jinny 1 my toes is so', 
 Dancin' on yo" sandy flo'l" 
 
 Even so had they wrought all ways 
 
 To earn the pennies, and hoard them, too, 
 
 And with what ultimate end in view? 
 
 They were saving up money enough to be 
 
 Able, in time, to buy their own 
 
 Five children back. 
 
 Ah ! the toil gone through I 
 And the long delays and the heartaches, too, 
 And self-denials that they had known ! 
 But the pride and glory that was theirs 
 When they first hitched up their shackly cart 
 180
 
 TOLD BT "THE NOTED TRA VELER" 
 
 For the long, long journey South. The start 
 In the first drear light of the chilly dawn, 
 With no friends gathered in grieving throng, 
 With no farewells and favoring prayers; 
 But, as they creaked and jolted on, 
 Their chiming voices broke in song 
 
 "'Hall, all hail! don't you see the stars a-fallln'? 
 Hail, all hail 1 I'm on my way. 
 Gideon* am 
 A healin' ba'm 
 
 I belong to the blood-washed army. 
 Gideon am 
 A healin' ba'm 
 
 On my way J ' " 
 
 And their return! with their oldest boy 
 
 Along with them! Why, their happiness 
 
 Spread abroad till it grew a joy 
 
 Universal It even reached 
 
 And thrilled the town till the Church was stirred 
 
 GitteJ -tvldently. [Editor. 
 
 181
 
 A CHILD-WORLD 
 
 Into suspecting that wrong was wrong! 
 And it stayed awake as the preacher preached 
 A Real " Love "-text that he had not long 
 To ransack for in the Holy Word. 
 
 And the son, restored, and welcomed so, 
 Found service readily in the town ; 
 And, with the parents, sure and slow, 
 He went " saltin' de cole cash down." 
 
 So with the next boy and each one 
 In turn, till four of the five at last 
 Had been bought back ; and, in each case, 
 With steady work and good homes not 
 Far from the parents, they chipped In 
 To the family fund, with an equal grace. 
 Thus they managed and planned and wrought, 
 And the old folks throve Till the night before 
 182
 
 TOLD BT "THE NOTED TEA VELER" 
 
 They were to start for the lone last son 
 
 In the rainy dawn their money fast 
 
 Hid away in the house, two mean, 
 
 Murderous robbers burst the door. 
 
 . . . Then, in the dark, was a scuffle a fall 
 
 An old man's gasping cry and then 
 
 A woman's fife-like shriek. 
 
 . . . Three men 
 
 Splashing by on horseback heard 
 The summons : And in an instant all 
 Sprung to their duty, with scarce a word. 
 And they were in time not only to save 
 The lives of the old folks, but to bag 
 Both the robbers, and buck-and-gag 
 And land them safe in the county-jail 
 Or, as Aunty said, with a blended awe 
 And subtlety, "Safe in de calaboose whah 
 De dawgs caint bite 'em ! " 
 183
 
 A CHILD-WORLD 
 
 So prevail 
 
 The faithful ! So had the Lord upheld 
 His servants of both deed and prayer, 
 HIS the glory unparalleled 
 Theirs the reward, their every son 
 Free, at last, as the parents were! 
 And, as the driver ended there 
 In front of the little house, 1 said, 
 All fervently, "Well done! well done!" 
 At which he smiled, and turned his head 
 And pulled on the leaders' lines and "See!" 
 He said, "'you can read old Aunty's sign?" 
 And, peering down through these specs of mine 
 On a little, square board-sign, I read : 
 
 " Stop, traveler, if you think it fit. 
 And quench your thirst for a-fip-and-a-bit 
 The rocky spring is very clear. 
 And soon converted Into beer." 
 
 184
 
 TOLD BT "THE NOTED TRAVELER" 
 
 And, though I read aloud, I could 
 Scarce hear myself for laugh and shout 
 Of children a glad multitude 
 Of little people, swarming out 
 Of the picnic-grounds I spoke about. 
 And in their rapturous midst, I see 
 Again through mists of memory 
 A black old Negress laughing up 
 At the driver, with her broad lips rolled 
 Back from her teeth, chalk-white, and gums 
 Redder than reddest red-ripe plums. 
 He took from her hand the lifted cup 
 Of clear spring-water, pure and cold, 
 And passed it to me : And I raised my hat 
 And drank to her with a reverence that 
 My conscience knew was justly due 
 The old black face, and the old eyes, too 
 The old black head, with its mossy mat 
 185
 
 A CHILD-WORLD 
 
 Of hair, set under its cap and frills 
 White as the snows on Alpine hills; 
 Drank to the old black smile, but yet 
 Bright as the sun on the violet, 
 Drank to the gnarled and knuckled old 
 Black hands whose palms had ached and bled 
 And pitilessly been worn pale 
 And white almost as the palms that hold 
 Slavery's lash while the victim's wail 
 Fails as a crippled prayer might fail. 
 Aye, with a reverence infinite, 
 I drank to the old black face and head 
 The old black breast with its life of light 
 The old black hide with its heart of gold. 
 
 186
 
 HEAT LIGHTNING 
 
 'T'HERE was a curious quiet for a space 
 Directly following : and in the face 
 Of one rapt listener pulsed the flush and glow 
 Of the heat-lightning that pent passions throw 
 Long ere the crash of speech. He broke the spell 
 The host: The Traveler's story, told so well, 
 He said, had wakened there within his breast 
 A yearning, as it were, to know the rest 
 That all unwritten sequence that the Lord 
 Of Righteousness must write with flame and sword, 
 Some awful session of His patient thought- 
 Just then it was, his good old mother caught 
 His blazing eye so that its fire became 
 But aa an ember though it burned the same.
 
 A CHILD-WORLD 
 
 It seemed to her, she said, that she had heard 
 It was the Heavenly Parent never erred, 
 And not the earthly one that had such grace: 
 " Therefore, my son," she said, with lifted face 
 And eyes, " let no one dare anticipate 
 The Lord's intent. While He waits, we will wait.' 
 And with a gust of reverence genuine 
 Then Uncle Mart was aptly ringing in 
 " 'If the darkened heavens lower, 
 
 Wrap thy cloak around thy form ; 
 Though the tempest rise in power, 
 
 God is mightier than the storm ! ' ' 
 Which utterance reached the restive children all 
 As something humorous. And then a call 
 For him to tell a story, or to " say 
 A funny piece." His face fell right away: 
 He knew no story worthy. Then he must 
 Declaim for them : In that, he could not trust 
 1 88
 
 HE A T LIGHTNING 
 
 His memory. And then a happy thought 
 
 Struck some one, who reached in his vest and brought 
 
 Some scrappy clippings into light and said 
 
 There -was a poem of Uncle Mart's he read 
 
 Last April in "The Sentinel" He had 
 
 It there in print, and knew all would be glad 
 
 To hear it rendered by the author. 
 
 And, 
 
 All reasons for declining at command 
 Exhausted, the now helpless poet rose 
 And said: "I am discovered, I suppose. 
 Though I have taken all precautions not 
 To sign my name to any verses wrought 
 By my transcendent genius, yet, you see, 
 Fame wrests my secret from me bodily ; 
 So I must needs confess I did this deed 
 Of poetry red-handed, nor can plead
 
 A CHILD-WORLD 
 
 One whit of unintention in my crime 
 
 My guilt of rhythm and my glut of rhyme. 
 
 " ' Maeonides rehearsed a tale of arms. 
 
 And Naso told of curious metamurphoses ; 
 Unnumbered pens have pictured woman's charms. 
 While crazy 7've made poetry on purposes I' 
 
 In other words, I stand convicted need 
 I say by my own doing, as I read. "
 
 UNCLE MART'S POEM 
 
 THE OLD SNOW-MAN 
 
 TJO! the old Snow-Man 
 
 That Noey Bixler made! 
 He looked as fierce and sassy 
 
 As a soldier on parade! 
 'Cause Noey, when he made him, 
 
 While we all wuz gone, you see, 
 He made him, jist a-purpose, 
 Jist as fierce as he could be! 
 
 But when we all got ust to him, 
 
 Nobody wuz afraid 
 Of the old Snow-Man 
 That Noey Bixler made! 
 
 'Cause Noey told us 'bout him 
 And what he made him fer: 
 191
 
 A CHILD-WORLD 
 
 He'd come to feed, that morning 
 
 He found we wuzn't here; 
 And so the notion struck him, 
 
 When we all come taggin' home 
 Tud s'prise us ef a' old Snow-Man 
 
 'Ud meet us when we come ! 
 So, when he'd fed the stock, and milked, 
 
 And ben back home, and chopped 
 His wood, and et his breakfast, he 
 Jist grabbed his mitts and hopped 
 Right in on that-air old Snow-Man 
 
 That he laid out he'd make 
 Er bust a trace a-tryin' jist 
 Per old-acquaintance sake ! 
 
 But work like that wuz lots more fun, 
 
 He said, than when he played! 
 Ho! the old Snow-Man 
 That Noey Bixler madel 
 192
 
 UNCLE MART'S POEM 
 
 He started with a big snow-ball, 
 
 And rolled it all around; 
 And as he rolled, more snow 'ud stick 
 
 And pull up off the ground. 
 He rolled and rolled all round the yard 
 
 'Cause we could see the track, 
 All wher' the snow come off, you know, 
 
 And left it wet and black. 
 He got the Snow-Man's legs-part rolled 
 
 In front the kitchen-door, 
 And then he hat to turn in then 
 
 And roll and roll some more! 
 He rolled the yard all round agin, 
 
 And round the house, at that 
 Clean round the house and back to wrier* 
 
 The blame legs-half wuz at! 
 
 He said he missed his dinner, too 
 
 Jist clean fergot and stayed 
 i 193
 
 A CHILD-WORLD 
 
 There workin'. Ho! the old Snow-Man 
 That Noey Bixler made! 
 
 And Noey said he hat to hump 
 
 To git the top-half on 
 The legs-half! When he did, he said, 
 
 His wind wuz purt'-nigh gone. 
 He said, I jucks ! he jist drapped down 
 
 There on the old porch-floor 
 And panted like a dog ! And then 
 
 He up! and rolled some more! 
 The last batch that wuz fer his head, 
 
 And time he'd got it right 
 And clumb and fixed it on, he said 
 
 He hat to quit fer night! 
 And then, he said, he'd kep' right on 
 
 Ef they'd ben any moon 
 
 194
 
 UNCLE MARTS POEM 
 
 To work by! So he crawled In bed 
 And could a-slep' tel noon, 
 
 He wuz so plum wore out! he sald,- 
 
 But it wuz washin'-day, 
 And hat to cut a cord o' wood 
 'Fore he could git away I 
 
 But, last, he got to work agin, 
 
 With spade, and gouge, and hoe, 
 And trowel, too (All tools 'ud do 
 
 What Hoey said, you know!) 
 He cut his eyebrows out like cliffs 
 
 And his cheekbones and chin 
 Stuck furder out and his old nose 
 
 Stuck out as fur-agin I 
 He made his eyes o' walnuts, 
 
 And his whiskers out o' this 
 Here buggy-cushion stuffin' moss, 
 
 The teacher says it is. 
 195
 
 A CHILD-WORLD 
 
 And then he made a' old wood'-gun, 
 
 Set keerless-like, you know, 
 Acrost one shoulder kindo' like 
 Big Foot, er Adam Poe 
 Er, mayby, Simon Girty, 
 
 The dinged old Renegade! 
 Wooh ! the old Snow-Man 
 That Noey Bixler made! 
 
 And there he stood, all fierce and grim, 
 
 A stern, heroic form : 
 What was the winter blast to him, 
 
 And what the driving storm? 
 What wonder that the children pressed 
 
 Their faces at the pane 
 And scratched away the frost, in pride 
 
 To look on him again? 
 
 196
 
 UNCLE MARTS POEM 
 
 What wonder that, with yearning bold, 
 
 Their all of love and care 
 Went warmest through the keenest cold 
 
 To that Snow-Man out there! 
 
 But the old Snow-Man 
 
 What a dubious delight 
 He grew at last when Spring came on 
 
 And days waxed warm and bright. 
 Alone he stood all kith and kin 
 
 Of snow and ice were gone ; 
 Alone, with constant teardrops in 
 
 His eyes and glittering on 
 His thin, pathetic beard of black 
 
 Grief in a hopeless cause! 
 Hope hope is for the man that dies 
 
 What for the man that thaws! 
 
 197
 
 A CHILD-WORLD 
 
 O Hero of a hero's make! 
 Let marble melt and fade, 
 
 But never you you old Snow-Man 
 That Noey Bixler made I 
 
 IQ8
 
 " LITTLE JACK JANITOR " 
 
 A ND there, in that ripe Summer-night, once more 
 A wintry coolness through the open door 
 And window seemed to touch each glowing face 
 Refreshingly ; and, for a fleeting space, 
 The quickened fancy, through the fragrant air, 
 Saw snowflakes whirling where the roseleaves were, 
 And sounds of veriest jingling bells again 
 Were heard in tinkling spoons and glasses then. 
 
 Thus Uncle Mart's old poem sounded young 
 And crisp and fresh and clear as when first sung, 
 Away back in the wakening of Spring 
 When his rhyme and the robin, chorusing, 
 Rumored, in duo-fanfare, of the soon 
 Invading johnny-jump-ups, with platoon 
 199
 
 A CHILD-WORLD 
 
 On platoon of sweet-williams, marshaled fine 
 To bloomed blarings of the trumpet-vine. 
 
 The poet turned to whisperingly confer 
 
 A moment with "The Noted Traveler," 
 
 Then left the room, tripped up the stairs, and then 
 
 An instant later reappeared again, 
 
 Bearing a little, lacquered box, or chest, 
 
 Which, as all marked with curious interest, 
 
 He gave to the old Traveler, who in 
 
 One hand upheld it, pulling back his thin 
 
 Black lustre coat-sleeves, saying he had sent 
 
 Up for his "Magic Box," and that he meant 
 
 To test it there especially to show 
 
 The Children. " It is empty now, you know." 
 
 He thumped it with his knuckles, so they heard 
 
 The hollow sound "But lest it be inferred
 
 "LITTLE JACK JANITOR" 
 
 It is not really empty, I will ask 
 Little Jack Janitor, whose pleasant task 
 It is to keep it ship-shape." 
 
 Then he tried 
 
 And rapped the little drawer in the side, 
 And called out sharply "Are you in there, Jack?" 
 And then a little, squeaky voice came back, 
 "Of course I'm in here ain't you got the key 
 Turned on me!" 
 
 Then the Traveler leisurely 
 Felt through his pockets, and at last took out 
 The smallest key they ever heard about! 
 It wasn't any longer than a pin : 
 And this at last he managed to fit in 
 The little keyhole, turned it, and then cried, 
 "Is everything swept out clean there inside?" 
 
 201
 
 A CHILD-WORLD 
 
 "Open th$ drawer and see! Don't talk so much; 
 
 Or else," the little voice squeaked, "talk in Dutch 
 
 You age tnt, asking questions!" 
 
 Then the man 
 
 Looked hurt, so that the little folks began 
 To feel so sorry for him, he put down 
 His face against the box and had to frown. 
 "Come, sir!" he called, "no impudence to me! 
 You've swept out clean?" 
 
 "Open the drawer and set!" 
 And so he drew the drawer out: Nothing theie, 
 But just the empty drawer, stark and bare. 
 He shoved it back again, with a shark click. 
 
 "Ouch!" yelled the little voice " un-snap it quick h- 
 You've got my nose pinched in the crack!" 
 
 And then 
 The frightened man drew out the drawer again, 
 
 202
 
 " LITTLE JA CK JANITOR " 
 
 The little voice exclaiming, "Jeemi-nte! 
 
 Say what you want, but please don't murdtr nu!" 
 
 " Well, then," the man said, as he closed the drawer 
 With care, " I want some cotton-batting for 
 My supper! Have you got it?" 
 
 And inside, 
 
 All muffled like, the little voice replied, 
 "Open the drawer and see !" 
 
 And, sure enough, 
 
 He drew it out, filled with the cotton stuff. 
 He then asked for a candle to be brought 
 And held for him: and tuft by tuft he caught 
 And lit the cotton, and, while blazing, took 
 It in his mouth and ate it, with a look 
 Of purest satisfaction. 
 
 "Now," said he, 
 
 "I've eaten the drawer empty, let me see 
 203
 
 A CHILD-WORLD 
 
 What this is in my mouth : " And with both hands 
 
 He began drawing from his lips long strands 
 
 Of narrow silken ribbons, every hue 
 
 And tint; and crisp they were and bright and new 
 
 As if just purchased at some Fancy-Store. 
 
 "And now, Bub, bring your cap," he said, "before 
 
 Something might happen ! " And he stuffed the cap 
 
 Full of the ribbons. " There, my little chap, 
 
 Hold tight to them," he said, "and take them to 
 
 The ladies there, for they know what to do 
 
 With all such rainbow finery ! " 
 
 He smiled 
 Half sadly, as it seemed, to see the child 
 
 Open his cap first to his mother There 
 
 Was not a ribbon in it anywhere! 
 "Jack Janitor!" the man said sternly through 
 The Magic Box "Jack Janitor, did>o 
 Conceal those ribbons anywhere?" 
 204
 
 "LITTLE JACK JANITOR" 
 
 "Well, yes," 
 
 The little voice piped " but you'd never guess 
 The place I hid 'em if you'd guess a year I" 
 
 "Well, won't you tell met" 
 
 "Not until you clear 
 
 Your mean old conscience," said the voice, "and main 
 Me first do something for the Children's sake." 
 
 "Well, then, fill up the drawer," the Traveler said, 
 " With whitest white on earth and reddest red ! 
 Your terms accepted Are you satisfied?" 
 
 "Open the drawer and see!" the voice replied. 
 
 "Why, lless my soul!" the man said, as he drew 
 The contents of the drawer into view
 
 A CHILD-WORLD 
 
 - 
 
 "It's level-full of candy! Pass it 'round- 
 Jack Janitor shan't steal that, I'll be bound ! " 
 He raised and crunched a stick of it and smacked 
 His lips. " Yes, that is candy, for a fact ! 
 And it's all yours!" 
 
 And how the children there 
 Lit into it! O never anywhere 
 Was such a feast of sweetness ! 
 
 "And now, then, 
 
 The man said, as the empty drawer again 
 Slid to its place, he bending over it, 
 "Now, then, Jack Janitor, before we quit 
 Our entertainment for the evening, tell 
 Us where you hid the ribbons can't you?" 
 
 The squeaky little voice drawled sleepily 
 "Under your old hat, maybe. Look and
 
 "LITTLE JACK JANITOR" 
 
 All carefully the man took off his hat: 
 
 But there was not a ribbon under that 
 
 He shook his heavy hair, and all in vain 
 
 The old white hat then put it on again: 
 
 " Now, tell me, honest, Jack, where did you hide 
 
 The ribbons?" 
 
 "Under your hat," the voice replled.- 
 i 
 "Mind! I said 'under* and not 'i' it Won't 
 
 You ever take the hint on earth? or don't 
 You want to show folks where the ribbons at 7 
 Law! but Pm sleepy! Under unner your hat!'* 
 
 Again the old man carefully took off 
 The empty hat, with an embarrassed cough, 
 Saying, all gravely to the children : " You 
 Must promise not to laugh you'll all want to 
 When you see where Jack Janitor has dared 
 To hide those ribbons when he might have spared 
 207
 
 A CHILD-WORLD 
 
 My feelings. But no matter! Know the worst- 
 Here are the ribbons, as I feared at first." 
 And, quick as snap of thumb and finger, there 
 The old man's head had not a sign of hair, 
 And in his lap a wig of iron-gray 
 Lay, stuffed with all that glittering array 
 Of ribbons. . . " Take 'em to the ladies Yes. 
 Good-night to everybody, and God bless 
 The Children." 
 
 In a whisper no one missed 
 The Hired Man yawned : " He's a vantrilloquist.' 8 
 
 ** 
 
 SO GLORIED all the night. Each trundle-bed 
 And pallet was enchanted each child-head 
 Was packed with happy dreams. And long befort 
 The dawn's first far-off rooster crowed, the snore
 
 FINALS 
 
 Of Uncle Mart was stilled, as round him pressed 
 The bare arms of the wakeful little guest 
 That he had carried home with him. . . . 
 
 "I think," 
 
 An awed voice said "(No : I don't want a dwink 
 Lay still.) I think 'The Noted Traveler' he 
 *S the inscrutibul-est man I ever see!" 
 
 20Q
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA AT LOS ANGELES 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY LIBRARY 
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 1953 
 
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 20m-l,'42(8518> 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA 
 
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 1896 
 
 UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY 
 
 A A 000118283 1 
 
 PS 
 
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 C44 
 1896