The American Union Speaker Part 68

THE HEIGHT OF THE RIDICULOUS.

I wrote some lines, once on a time In wondering merry mood, And thought, as usual, men would say They were exceeding good.

They were so queer, so very queer, I laughed as I would die; Albeit in the general way, A sober man am I.

I called my servant, and he came; How kind it was of him, To mind a slender man like me, He of the mighty limb!

"These to the printer," I exclaimed, And, in my humorous way, I added (as a trifling jest), "There'll be the devil to pay."

He took the paper, and I watched, And saw him peep within; At the first line he read, his face Was all upon a grin.

He read the next; the grin grew broad.

And shot from ear to ear; He read the third; a chuckling noise I now began to hear.

The fourth; he broke into a roar; The fifth; his waistband split; The sixth; he burst five b.u.t.tons off, And tumbled in a fit.

Ten days and nights, with sleepless eye, I watched that wretched man; And since, I never dare to write As funny as I can.

O. W. Holmes.

CCCLX.

THE SEPTEMBER GALE.

I'm not a chicken; I have seen Full many a chill September, And though I was a youngster then, That gale I well remember; The day before my kite-string snapped, And I, my kite pursuing, The wind whisked off my palm-leaf hat;-- For me two storms were brewing!

It came as quarrels sometimes do, When married pairs get clashing; There was a heavy sigh or two, Before the fire was flashing,-- A little stir among the clouds, Before they rent asunder,-- A little rocking of the trees, And then came on the thunder.

Oh! how the ponds and rivers boiled, And how the shingles rattled!

And oaks were scattered on the ground, As if the t.i.tans battled; And all above was in a howl, And all below a clatter,-- The earth was like a frying-pan, Or some such hissing matter.

It chanced to be our washing-day, And all our things were drying; The storm came roaring through the lines, And set them all a flying; I saw the shirts and petticoats Go riding off like witches; I lost, ah! bitterly I wept,-- I lost my Sunday breeches!

I saw them straddling through the air, Alas! too late to win them; I saw them chase the clouds as if A demon had been in them; They were my darlings and my pride,-- My boyhood's only riches,-- "Farewell, farewell," I faintly cried,-- "My breeches! O my breeches!"

That night I saw them in my dreams, How changed from what I knew them!

The dews had steeped their faded thread, The winds had whistled through them; I saw the wide and ghastly rents, Where demon claws had torn them; A hole was in their amplest part, As if an imp had worn them.

I have had many happy years, And tailors kind and clever, But those young pantaloons have gone Forever and forever!

And not till fate has cut the last Of all my earthly st.i.tches, This aching heart shall cease to mourn My loved, my long-lost breeches!

O. W. Holmes.

CCCLVI.

LOVE AND MURDER.

In Manchester a maiden dwelt, Her name was Ph?be Blown; Her cheeks were red, her hair was black, And, she was considered by good judges to be by all odds the best looking girl in town.

Her age was nearly seventeen, Her eyes were sparkling bright; A very lovely girl she was, And for about a year and a half there had been a young man paying his attention to her, by the name of Reuben Wright.

Now Reuben was a nice young man As any in the town, And Ph?be loved him very dear, But, on account of his being obliged to work for a living, he never could make himself agreeable to old Mr. and Mrs. Brown.

Her parents were resolved Another she should wed, A rich old miser in the place, And old Brown frequently declared, that rather than have his daughter marry Reuben Wright, he'd sooner knock him in the head.

But Ph?be's heart was brave and strong, She feared not her parents' frowns; And as for Reuben Wright so bold, I've heard him say more than fifty times that (with the exception of Ph?be) he did n't care a cent for the whole race of Browns.

So Ph?be Brown and Reuben Wright Determined they would marry; Three weeks ago last Tuesday night, They started for old Parson Webster's, determined to be united in the holy bonds of matrimony, though it was tremendous dark, and rained like the old Harry.

But Captain Brown was wide awake, He loaded up his gun, And then pursued the loving pair; He overtook 'em when they'd got about half way to the Parson's, and then Reuben and Ph?be started off upon the run.

Old Brown then took a deadly aim Toward young Reuben's head, But, oh! it was a bleeding shame, He made a mistake, and shot his only daughter, and had the unspeakable anguish of seeing her drop right down stone dead.

Then anguish filled young Reuben's heart, And vengeance crazed his brain, He drew an awful jack-knife out, And plunged it into old Brown about fifty or sixty times, so that it's very doubtful about his ever coming to again.

The briny drops from Reuben's eyes In torrents poured down,-- And in this melancholy and heart-rending manner terminates the history of Reuben and Ph?be and likewise old Captain Brown.

Anonymous.

CCCLXII.

THE REMOVAL.

A nervous old gentleman, tired of trade,-- By which, though, it seems, he a fortune had made,-- Took a house 'twixt two sheds, at the skirts of the town, Which he meant, at his leisure, to buy and pull down.

This thought struck his mind when he viewed the estate; But, alas! when he entered he found it too late; For in each dwelt a smith;--a more hard-working two Never doctored a patient, or put on a shoe.

At six in the morning, their anvils, at work, Awoke our good squire, who raged like a Turk.

"These fellows," he cried, "such a clattering keep, That I never can get above eight hours of sleep."

From morning till night they keep thumping away,-- No sound but the anvil the whole of the day; His afternoon's nap and his daughter's new song, Were banished and spoiled by their hammer's ding-dong.

He offered each Vulcan to purchase his shop; But, no! they were stubborn, determined to stop; At length, (both his spirits and health to improved,) He cried, "I'll give each fifty guineas to move."

"Agreed!" said the pair; "that will make us amends."

"Then come to my house, and let us part friends; You shall dine; and we'll drink on this joyful occasion, That each may live long in his new habitation."

He gave the two blacksmiths a sumptuous regale; He spared not provisions, his wine, nor his ale; So much was he pleased with the thought that each guest Would take from him noise, and restore him to rest.

"And now." said he, "tell me, where mean you to move?

I hope to some spot where your trade will improve."

"Why, sir," replied one with a grin on his phiz, "Tom Forge moves to my shop, and I move to his!"

Anonymous.

CCCLXIII.

NONGTONGPAW.

John Bull for pastime took a prance, Some time ago, to peep at France; To talk of sciences and arts, And knowledge gained in foreign parts.