The Wit and Humor of America Volume I Part 8

There was once a little animal, No bigger than a fox, And on five toes he scampered Over Tertiary rocks.

They called him Eohippus, And they called him very small, And they thought him of no value-- When they thought of him at all; For the lumpish old Dinoceras And Coryphodon so slow Were the heavy aristocracy In days of long ago.

Said the little Eohippus, "I am going to be a horse!

And on my middle finger-nails To run my earthly course!

I'm going to have a flowing tail!

I'm going to have a mane!

I'm going to stand fourteen hands high On the psychozoic plain!"

The Coryphodon was horrified, The Dinoceras was shocked; And they chased young Eohippus, But he skipped away and mocked; Then they laughed enormous laughter, And they groaned enormous groans, And they bade young Eohippus Go view his father's bones: Said they, "You always were as small And mean as now we see, And that's conclusive evidence That you're always going to be: What! Be a great, tall, handsome beast, With hoofs to gallop on?

_Why, you'd have to change your nature!_"

Said the Loxolophodon: They considered him disposed of, And retired with gait serene; That was the way they argued In "the early Eocene."

There was once an Anthropoidal Ape, Far smarter than the rest, And everything that they could do He always did the best; So they naturally disliked him, And they gave him shoulders cool, And when they had to mention him They said he was a fool.

Cried this pretentious Ape one day, "I'm going to be a Man!

And stand upright, and hunt, and fight, And conquer all I can!

I'm going to cut down forest trees, To make my houses higher!

I'm going to kill the Mastodon!

I'm going to make a fire!"

Loud screamed the Anthropoidal Apes, With laughter wild and gay; They tried to catch that boastful one, But he always got away; So they yelled at him in chorus, Which he minded not a whit; And they pelted him with cocoanuts, Which didn't seem to hit; And then they gave him reasons, Which they thought of much avail, To prove how his preposterous Attempt was sure to fail.

Said the sages, "In the first place, The thing can not be done!

And, second, if it _could_ be, It would not be any fun!

And, third, and most conclusive And admitting no reply, _You would have to change your nature!_ We should like to see you try!"

They chuckled then triumphantly, These lean and hairy shapes, For these things pa.s.sed as arguments With the Anthropoidal Apes.

There was once a Neolithic Man, An enterprising wight, Who made his chopping implements Unusually bright; Unusually clever he, Unusually brave, And he drew delightful Mammoths On the borders of his cave.

To his Neolithic neighbors, Who were startled and surprised, Said he, "My friends, in course of time, We shall be civilized!

We are going to live in cities!

We are going to fight in wars!

We are going to eat three times a day Without the natural cause!

We are going to turn life upside down About a thing called gold!

We are going to want the earth, and take As much as we can hold!

We are going to wear great piles of stuff Outside our proper skins!

We are going to have Diseases!

And Accomplishments!! And Sins!!!"

Then they all rose up in fury Against their boastful friend, For prehistoric patience Cometh quickly to an end: Said one, "This is chimerical!

Utopian! Absurd!"

Said another, "What a stupid life!

Too dull, upon my word!"

Cried all, "Before such things can come, You idiotic child, _You must alter Human Nature_!"

And they all sat back and smiled: Thought they, "An answer to that last It will be hard to find!"

It was a clinching argument To the Neolithic Mind!

THE OLD MAID'S HOUSE: IN PLAN

BY ELIZABETH STUART PHELPS

Corona had five hundred dollars and some pluck for her enterprise. She had also at her command a trifle for furnishing. But that seemed very small capital. Her friends at large discouraged her generously. Even Tom said he didn't know about that, and offered her three hundred more.

This manly offer she declined in a womanly manner.

"It is to be _my_ house, thank you, Tom, dear. I can live in yours at home." ...

Corona's architectural library was small. She found on the top shelf one book on the construction of chicken-roosts, a pamphlet in explanation of the kindergarten system, a cook-book that had belonged to her grandmother, and a treatise on crochet. There her domestic literature came to an end. She accordingly bought a book ent.i.tled "North American Homes"; then, having, in addition, begged or borrowed everything within two covers relating to architecture that was to be found in her immediate circle of acquaintance, she plunged into that unfamiliar science with hopeful zeal.

The result of her studies was a mixed one. It was necessary, it seemed, to construct the North American home in so many contradictory methods, or else fail forever of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness, that Corona felt herself to be laboring under a chronic aberration of mind.... Then the plans. Well, the plans, it must be confessed, Corona _did_ find it difficult to understand. She always had found it difficult to understand such things; but then she had hoped several weeks of close architectural study would shed light upon the density of the subject.

She grew quite morbid about it. She counted the steps when she went up-stairs to bed at night. She estimated the bedroom post when she walked in the cold, gray dawn....

But the most perplexing thing about the plans was how one story ever got upon another. Corona's imagination never fully grappled with this fact, although her intellect accepted it. She took her books down-stairs one night, and Susy came and looked them over.

"Why, these houses are all one-story," said Susy. "Besides, they're nothing but lines, anyway. I shouldn't draw a house so."

Corona laughed with some embarra.s.sment and no effort at enlightenment.

She was not used to finding herself and Susy so nearly on the same intellectual level as in this instance. She merely asked: "How should you draw it?"

"Why, so," said Susy, after some severe thought. So she took her little blunt lead pencil, that the baby had chewed, and drew her plan as follows:

[Ill.u.s.tration: SUSY'S PLAN]

Corona made no comment upon this plan, except to ask Susy if that were the way to spell L; and then to look in the dictionary, and find that it was not spelled at all. Tom came in, and asked to see what they were doing.

"I'm helping Corona," said Susy, with much complacency. "These architects' things don't look any more like houses than they do like the first proposition in Euclid; and the poor girl is puzzled."

"_I'll_ help you to-morrow, Co," said Tom, who was in too much of a hurry to glance at his wife's plan. But to-morrow Tom went into town by the early train, and when Corona emerged from her "North American Homes," with wild eye and knotted brow, at 5 o'clock p.m., she found Susy crying over a telegram which ran:

Called to California immediately. Those lost cargoes A No. 1 hides turned up. Can't get home to say good-by. Send overcoat and flannels by Simpson on midnight express. Gone four weeks. Love to all.

TOM.

This unexpected event threw Corona entirely upon her own resources; and, after a few days more of patient research, she put on her hat, and stole away at dusk to a builder she knew of down-town--a nice, fatherly man who had once built a piazza for Tom and had just been elected superintendent of the Sunday-school. These combined facts gave Corona confidence to trust her case to his hands. She carried a neat little plan of her own with her, the result of several days' hard labor. Susy's plan she had taken the precaution to cut into paper dolls for the baby.

Corona found the good man at home, and in her most business-like manner presented her points.

"Got any plan in yer own head?" asked the builder, hearing her in silence. In silence Corona laid before him the paper which had cost her so much toil.

It was headed in her clear black hand:

PLAN FOR A SMALL BUT HAPPY HOME

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