The Universal Reciter Part 20

The breakfast over, Tom and Will Sent for the landlord and the bill; Will looked it over:--"Very right-- But hold! what wonder meets my sight?

Tom! the surprise is quite a shock!"

"What wonder? where?" "The clock, the clock!"

Tom and the landlord in amaze Stared at the clock with stupid gaze, And for a moment neither spoke; At last the landlord silence broke,--

"You mean the clock that's ticking there?

I see no wonder, I declare!

Though maybe, if the truth were told, 'Tis rather ugly, somewhat old; Yet time it keeps to half a minute; But, if you please, what wonder in it?"

"Tom, don't you recollect," said Will, "The clock at Jersey, near the mill, The very image of this present, With which I won the wager pleasant?"

Will ended with a knowing wink; Tom scratched his head and tried to think.

"Sir, begging your pardon for inquiring,"

The landlord said with grin admiring, "What wager was it?"

"You remember It happened, Tom, in last December: In sport I bet a Jersey Blue That it was more than he could do To make his finger go and come In keeping with the pendulum, Repeating, till the hour should close, Still--'_Here she goes, and there she goes._'

He lost the bet in half a minute."

"Well, if I would, the deuce is in it!"

Exclaimed the landlord; "try me yet, And fifty dollars to be bet."

"Agreed, but we will play some trick, To make you of the bargain sick!"

"I'm up to that!"

"Don't make us wait,-- Begin,--the clock is striking eight."

He seats himself, and left and right His finger wags with all its might, And hoa.r.s.e his voice and hoa.r.s.er grows, With--"Here she goes, and there she goes!"

"Hold!" said the Yankee, "plank the ready!"

The landlord wagged his finger steady, While his left hand, as well as able, Conveyed a purse upon the table, "Tom! with the money let's be off!"

This made the landlord only scoff.

He heard them running down the stair, But was not tempted from his chair; Thought he, "The fools! I'll bite them yet!

So poor a trick sha'n't win the bet."

And loud and long the chorus rose Of--"Here she goes, and there she goes!"

While right and left his finger swung, In keeping to his clock and tongue.

His mother happened in to see Her daughter: "Where is Mrs. B----?"

"When will she come, do you suppose?"

Son!--"

"Here she goes, and there she goes!"

"Here!--where?"--the lady in surprise His finger followed with her eyes; "Son! why that steady gaze and sad?

Those words,--that motion,--are you mad?

But here's your wife, perhaps she knows, And--"

"Here she goes, and there she goes!"

His wife surveyed him with alarm, And rushed to him and seized his arm; He shook her off, and to and fro His finger persevered to go, While curled his very nose with ire That _she_ against him should conspire; And with more furious tone arose The--"Here she goes, and there she goes!"

"Lawks!" screamed the wife, "I'm in a whirl!

Run down and bring the little girl; She is his darling, and who knows But--"

"Here she goes, and there she goes!"

"Lawks! he is mad! What made him thus?

Good Lord! what will become of us?

Run for a doctor,--run, run, run,-- For Doctor Brown and Doctor Dun, And Doctor Black and Doctor White, And Doctor Grey with all your might!"

The doctors came, and looked, and wondered, And shook their heads, and paused and pondered.

Then one proposed he should be bled,-- "No, leeched you mean," the other said,-- "Clap on a blister!" roared another,-- "No! cup him,"--"No! trepan him, brother."

A sixth would recommend a purge, The next would an emetic urge; The eighth, just come from a dissection, His verdict gave for an injection.

The last produced a box of pills, A certain cure for earthly ills: "I had a patient yesternight,"

Quoth he, "and wretched was her plight, And as the only means to save her, Three dozen patent pills I gave her; And by to-morrow I suppose That--"

"Here she goes, and there she goes!"

"You are all fools!" the lady said,-- "The way is, just to shave his head.

Run! bid the barber come anon."

"Thanks, mother!" thought her clever son; "You help the knaves that would have bit me, But all creation sha'n't outwit me!"

Thus to himself, while to and fro His fingers perseveres to go, And from his lips no accent flows But--"Here she goes, and there she goes!"

The barber came--"Lord help him! what A queerish customer I've got; But we must do our best to save him,-- So hold him, gemmen, while I shave him!"

But here the doctors interpose,-- "A woman never--"

"There she goes!"

"A woman is no judge of physic, No even when her baby is sick.

He must be bled,"--"No, no, a blister,"-- "A purge, you mean,"--"I say a clyster,"-- "No, cup him,"--"Leech him,"--"Pills! pills! pills!"

And all the house the uproar fills.

What means that smile? what means that shiver?

The landlord's limbs with rapture quiver, And triumph brightens up his face, His finger yet shall win the race; The clock is on the stroke of nine, And up he starts,--"'Tis mine! 'tis mine!"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean the fifty; I never spent an hour so thrifty.

But you who tried to make me lose, Go, burst with envy, if you choose!

But how is this? where are they?"

"Who?"

"The gentlemen,--I mean the two Came yesterday,--are they below?"

"They galloped off an hour ago."

"O, purge me! blister! shave and bleed!

For, hang the knaves, I'm mad indeed!"

DAVID AND GOLIATH.

Goliath gives vent to his arrogance in a bombastic style. This should be borne in mind by the speaker. David, on the other hand, expresses himself with modesty, but in a tone of confident courage:

_Goliath._ Where is the mighty man of war, who dares Accept the challenge of Philistia's chief?

What victor-king, what general drenched in blood, Claims this high privilege? What are his rights?

What proud credentials does the boaster bring To prove his claim? What cities laid in ashes, What ruined provinces, what slaughtered realms, What heads of heroes, or what hearts of kings, In battle killed, or at his altars slain, Has he to boast? Is his bright armory Thick set with spears, and swords, and coats of mail, Of vanquished nations, by his single arm Subdued? Where is the mortal man so bold, So much a wretch, so out of love with life, To dare the weight of this uplifted spear?

Come, advance!

Philistia's G.o.ds to Israel's. Sound, my herald, Sound for the battle straight!

_David._ Behold thy foe.