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The Wit and Humor of America Volume IX Part 27

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Then they tied a string of sleigh-bells to his tail, and hit him a smart, stinging blow with a black snake.

Probably that was what suggested to him the idea of strolling down the beach, past the sentry, and on toward the fort. The darkness of the night, the rattle of hoofs, the clash of the bells, the quick challenge of the guard, the failure to give the countersign, the sharp volley of the sentinels, and the wild cry, "to arms," followed in rapid succession. The tocsin sounded, also the slogan. The culverin, ukase, and door-tender were all fired. Huge beacons of fat pine were lighted along the beach. The whole slumbering host sprang to arms, and the crack of the musket was heard through the intense darkness.

In the morning the enemy was found intrenched in a mud-hole, south of the fort, with his clean new straw tick spattered with clay, and a wildly disheveled tail.

On board the Richmond train not long ago a man lost his hat as we pulled out of Petersburg, and it fell by the side of the track. The train was just moving slowly away from the station, so he had a chance to jump off and run back after it. He got the hat, but not till we had placed seven or eight miles between us and him. We could not help feeling sorry for him, because very likely his hat had an embroidered hat band in it, presented by one dearer to him than life itself, and so we worked up quite a feeling for him, though of course he was very foolish to lose his train just for a hat, even if it did have the needle-work of his heart's idol in it.

Later I was surprised to see the same man in Columbia, South Carolina, and he then told me this sad story:

"I started out a month ago to take a little trip of a few weeks, and the first day was very, very happily spent in scrutinizing nature and scanning the faces of those I saw. On the second day out, I ran across a young man whom I had known slightly before, and who is engaged in the business of being a companionable fellow and the life of the party.

That is about all the business he has. He knows a great many people, and his circle of acquaintances is getting larger all the time. He is proud of the enormous quant.i.ty of friendship he has acquired. He says he can't get on a train or visit any town in the Union that he doesn't find a friend.

"He is full of stories and witticisms, and explains the plays to theater parties. He has seen a great deal of life and is a keen critic. He would have enjoyed criticizing the Apostle Paul and his elocutionary style if he had been one of the Ephesians. He would have criticized Paul's gestures, and said, 'Paul, I like your Epistles a heap better than I do your appearance on the platform. You express yourself well enough with your pen, but when you spoke for the Ephesian Y. M. C. A., we were disappointed in you and we lost money on you.'

"Well, he joined me, and finding out where I was going, he decided to go also. He went along to explain things to me, and talk to me when I wanted to sleep or read the newspaper. He introduced me to large numbers of people whom I did not want to meet, took me to see things I didn't want to see, read things to me that I didn't want to hear, and introduced to me people who didn't want to meet me. He multiplied misery by throwing uncongenial people together and then said: 'Wasn't it lucky that I could go along with you and make it pleasant for you?'

"Everywhere he met more new people with whom he had an acquaintance. He shook hands with them, and called them by their first names, and felt in their pockets for cigars. He was just bubbling over with mirth, and laughed all the time, being so offensively joyous, in fact, that when he went into a car, he attracted general attention, which suited him first-rate. He regarded himself as a universal favorite and all-around sunbeam.

"When we got to Washington, he took me up to see the President. He knew the President well--claimed to know lots of things about the President that made him more or less feared by the administration. He was acquainted with a thousand little vices of all our public men, which virtually placed them in his power. He knew how the President conducted himself at home, and was 'on to everything' in public life.

"Well, he shook hands with the President, and introduced me. I could see that the President was thinking about something else, though, and so I came away without really feeling that I knew him very well.

"Then we visited the departments, and I can see now that I hurt myself by being towed around by this man. He was so free, and so joyous, and so bubbling, that wherever we went I could hear the key grate in the lock after we pa.s.sed out of the door.

"He started south with me. He was going to show me all the battle-fields, and introduce me into society. I bought some strychnine in Washington, and put it in his buckwheat cakes; but they got cold, and he sent them back. I did not know what to do, and was almost wild, for I was traveling entirely for pleasure, and not especially for his pleasure either.

"At Petersburg I was told that the train going the other way would meet us. As we started out, I dropped my hat from the window while looking at something. It was a desperate move, but I did it. Then I jumped off the train, and went back after it. As soon as I got around the curve I ran for Petersburg, where I took the other train. I presume you all felt sorry for me, but if you'd seen me fold myself in a long, pa.s.sionate embrace after I had climbed on the other train, you would have changed your minds."

He then pa.s.sed gently from my sight.

THE OLD-FASHIONED CHOIR

BY BENJAMIN F. TAYLOR

I have fancied, sometimes, the Bethel-bent beam That trembled to earth in the patriarch's dream, Was a ladder of song in that wilderness rest, From the pillow of stone to the blue of the Blest, And the angels descended to dwell with us here, "Old Hundred," and "Corinth," and "China," and "Mear."

All the hearts are not dead, not under the sod, That those breaths can blow open to Heaven and G.o.d!

Ah! "Silver Street" leads by a bright, golden road-- O! not to the hymns that in harmony flowed-- But to those sweet human psalms in the old-fashioned choir, To the girls that sang alto, the girls that sang air!

"Let us sing to G.o.d's praise," the minister said, All the psalm-books at once fluttered open at "York,"

Sunned their long dotted wings in the words that he read, While the leader leaped into the tune just ahead, And politely picked out the key note with a fork, And the vicious old viol went growling along At the heels of the girls in the rear of the song.

I need not a wing--bid no genii come, With a wonderful web from Arabian loom, To bear me again up the River of Time, When the world was in rhythm, and life was its rhyme; Where the streams of the year flowed so noiseless and narrow, That across them there floated the song of a sparrow; For a sprig of green caraway carries me there, To the old village church and the old village choir, When clear of the floor my feet slowly swung, And timed the sweet praise of the songs as they sung, Till the glory aslant of the afternoon sun Seemed the rafters of gold in G.o.d's temple begun!

You may smile at the nasals of old Deacon Brown, Who followed by scent till he ran the tune down; And the dear sister Green, with more goodness than grace, Rose and fell on the tunes as she stood in her place, And where "Coronation" exultingly flows, Tried to reach the high notes on the tips of her toes!

To the land of the leal they went with their song, Where the choir and the chorus together belong; O, be lifted, ye gates! Let me hear them again-- Blessed song, blessed Sabbath, forever, amen!

WHEN THE LITTLE BOY RAN AWAY

BY FRANK L. STANTON

When the little boy ran away from home The birds in the treetops knew, And they all sang "Stay!" But he wandered away Under the skies of blue.

And the Wind came whispering from the tree: "Follow me--follow me!"

And it sang him a song that was soft and sweet, And scattered the roses before his feet That day--that day When the little boy ran away.

The Violets whispered: "Your eyes are blue And lovely and bright to see; And so are mine, and I'm kin to you, So dwell in the light with me!"

But the little boy laughed, while the Wind in glee Said: "Follow me--follow me!"

And the Wind called the clouds from their home in the skies And said to the Violet: "Shut your eyes!"

That day--that day When the little boy ran away.

Then the Wind played leap-frog over the hills And twisted each leaf and limb; And all the rivers and all the rills Were foaming mad with him!

And 'twas dark as the darkest night could be, But still came the Wind's voice: "Follow me!"

And over the mountain, and up from the hollow Came echoing voices, with: "Follow him--follow!"

That awful day When the little boy ran away!

Then the little boy cried: "Let me go--let me go!"

For a scared--scared boy was he!

But the Thunder growled from a black cloud: "No!"

And the Wind roared: "Follow me!"

And an old gray Owl from a treetop flew, Saying: "Who are you-oo? Who are you-oo?"

And the little boy sobbed: "I'm lost away, And I want to go home where my parents stay!"

Oh, the awful day When the little boy ran away!

Then the Moon looked out from a cloud and said: "Are you sorry you ran away?

If I light you home to your trundle bed, Will you stay, little boy, will you stay?"

And the little boy promised--and cried and cried-- He would never leave his mother's side; And the Moonlight led him over the plain And his mother welcomed him home again.

But oh, what a day When the little boy ran away!

HE WANTED TO KNOW

BY SAM WALTER FOSS

He wanted to know how G.o.d made the worl'

Out er nothin' at all, W'y it wasn't made square, like a block or a brick, Stid er roun', like a ball, How it managed to stay held up in the air, An' w'y it don't fall; All such kin' er things, above an' below, He wanted to know.

He wanted to know who Cain had for a wife, An' if the two fit; Who hit Billy Patterson over the head, If he ever got hit; An' where Moses wuz w'en the candle went out, An' if others were lit; If he couldn' fin' these out, w'y his cake wuz all dough, An' he wanted to know.

An' he wanted to know 'bout original sin; An' about Adam's fall; If the snake hopped aroun' on the end of his tail Before doomed to crawl, An' w'at would hev happened if Adam hedn' et The ol' apple at all; These ere kind er things seemed ter fill him 'ith woe, An' he wanted to know.

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The Wit and Humor of America Volume IX Part 27 summary

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