Town and Country; Or, Life at Home and Abroad Part 42

And when I see them toiling on To earn their daily bread, And dire oppression crush them down, Till every joy hath fled,-- I mind me of that better world, And of that heavenly fold, Where every crown of thorns gives place Unto a crown of gold.

IF I DON'T, OTHERS WILL.

"IF I don't make it, others will; So I'll keep up my death-drugged still.

Come, Zip, my boy, pile on the wood, And make it blaze as blaze it should; For I do heartily love to see The flames dance round it merrily!

"Hogsheads, you want?-well, order them made; The maker will take his pay in trade.

If, at the first, he will not consent, Treat him with wine till his wits are spent; Then, when his reason is gone, you know Whate'er we want from his hands will flow!

"Ah, what do you say?-'that won't be fair'?

You're conscientious, I do declare!

I thought so once, when I was a boy, But since I have been in this employ I've practised it, and many a trick, By the advice of my friend, Old Nick.

I thought 't was wrong till he hushed my fears With derisive looks, and taunts, and jeers, And solemnly said to me, 'My Bill, If you don't do it, some others will!'

"If I don't sell it, some others will; So bottles, and pitchers, and mugs I'll fill.

When trembling child, who is sent, shall come, Shivering with cold, and ask for rum (Yet fearing to raise its wet eyes up), I'll measure it out in its broken cup!

"Ah! what do you say?-'the child wants bread'?

Well, 't is n't my duty to see it fed; If the parents will send to me to buy, Do you think I'd let the chance go by To get me gain? O, I'm no such fool; That is not taught in the world's wide school!

"When the old man comes with nervous gait, Loving, yet cursing his hapless fate, Though children and wife and friends may meet, And me with tears and with sighs entreat Not to sell him that which will be his death, I'll hear what the man with money saith; If he asks for rum and shows the gold, I'll deal it forth, and it shall be sold!

"Ah! do you say, 'I should heed the cries Of weeping friends that around me rise'?

May be you think so; I tell you what,-- I've a rule which proves that I should not; For, know you, though the poison kill, If I don't sell it, some others will!"

A strange fatality came on all men, Who met upon a mountain's rocky side; They had been sane and happy until then, But then on earth they wished not to abide.

The sun shone brightly, but it had no charm; The soft winds blew, but them did not elate; They seemed to think all joined to do them harm, And urge them onward to a dreadful fate.

I did say "all men," yet there were a few Who kept their reason well,--yet, weak, what could they do?

The men rushed onward to the jagged rocks, Then plunged like madmen in their madness o'er; From peak to peak they scared the feathered flocks, And far below lay weltering in their gore.

The sane men wondered, trembled, and they strove To stay the furies; but they could not do it.

Whate'er they did, however fenced the drove, The men would spring the bounds or else break through it, And o'er the frightful precipice they leaped, Till rock and tree seemed in their red blood steeped.

One of the sane men was a great distiller And one sold liquors in a famous city; And, by the way, one was an honest miller, Who looked on both their trades in wrath and pity.

This good "Honestus" spoke to them, and said, "You'd better jump; if you don't, others will."

Each took his meaning, yet each shook his head.

"That is no reason we ourselves should kill,"

Said they, while very stupid-brained they seemed, As though they of the miller's meaning never dreamed.

NOT MADE FOR AN EDITOR.

BEING A TRUE ACCOUNT OF AN INCIDENT IN THE HISTORY OF THE STUBBS FAMILY.

MR. and MRS. STUBBS were seated at the side of a red-hot cylinder stove. On one side, upon the floor, a small black-and-white dog lay very composedly baking himself; on the other, an old brown cat was, in as undisturbed a manner, doing the same. The warmth that existed between them was proof positive that they had not grown cold towards each other, though the distance between them might lead one to suppose they had.

In one corner of the room was the bust of a man, whose only existence was in the imagination of a miserable ship-carver, who, in his endeavors to breathe life into his block, came near breathing life out of himself, by sitting up late at night at his task. In the other hung a crook-necked squash, festooned with wreaths of spider-webs. Above the mantel-piece was suspended a painting representing a feat performed by a certain dog, of destroying one hundred rats in eight minutes. The frame in which this gem of art was placed was once gilt, but, at the time to which we refer, was covered with the dust of ages.

Mr. Stubbs poked the fire. Mrs. Stubbs poked the dog, when suddenly the door flew open, and their son entered with blackened eyes, b.l.o.o.d.y hands; bruised face and dirty clothes, the most belligerent-looking creature this side of the "Rio Grande."

"My voice a'nt still for war, it's loud for war," he said, as, with a braggadocia sort of air, he threw his cap at the dog, who clenched it between his teeth, shook it nearly to tatters, and then pa.s.sed it over to the cat.

"What's the matter now, Jake?" said Mrs. Stubbs. "Always in trouble,--fights and broils seem to be your element. I don't know, Jake, what will become of you, if you go on at this rate. What say you, father?"

Mr. Stubbs threw down the poker, and casting a glance first at his hopeful son, and then at his hoping wife, replied that Jake was an ignorant, pugnacious, good-for-nothing scamp, and never would come to anything, unless to a rope's end.

"O, how can you talk so?" said his wife. "You know it's nat'ral."

"Nat'ral!" shouted the father; "then it's ten times worse-the harder then to rid him of his quarrelsome habits. But I've an idea," said he, his face brightening up at the thought, as though he had clenched and made it fast and sure.

The mother started as by an electric shock. The boy, who had retired into one corner in a sullen mood, freshened up, and looked at his father. The ship-carver's fancy sketch brightened up also; but not of its own free will, for the force with which Mr. Stubbs brought his hand in contact with the table caused the dirty veil to fall from the bust-er's face.

"What is it?" inquired Mrs. Stubbs, with much animation.

"Why, my dear woman, as we can do nothing with him, we'll make him an editor."

The old lady inquired what that was; and, being informed, expressed doubts as to his ability.

"Why," said she, "he cannot write distinctly."

"What of that?'-let him write with the scissors and paste-pot. Let him learn; many know q great deal more after having learned."

"But he must have some originality in his paper," said Mrs. Stubbs, who, it seemed, did not fall in with the general opinion that "any one can edit a paper."

"Never fear that," said Mr. Stubbs; "he'll conduct anything he takes hold of, rather than have that conduct him. I'll tell you what, old woman, Jake shall be an editor, whether he can write a line of editorial or not. Jake, come here."

Jake, who had nearly forgotten his fight, was elated at the proposition of his father, and, being asked whether, in his opinion, he could conduct a paper with ability, originality and success, replied, in the slang phrase of the day, that he "could n't do anything else," at the same time clenching his fist, as though to convince his sire that he could do something else, notwithstanding.

"As I have never asked you any question relative to public affairs, and as the people of this generation are getting to be wise, I deem it right that I should ask you a few questions before endeavoring to obtain a situation. Now, Jake, who is the President of the United States?"

"General George Washington," replied the intelligent lad, or rather young man; for, though he indulged in many boyish tricks, he was about twenty years of age, a short, dull-looking member of the "great unwashed." The father intimated that he was mistaken; the son persisted in saying that he was not.

"Never mind the catechizer," said Jake; "I'll conduct a newspaper, I will, for Mr. and Mrs. Stubbs never see the day I could n't conduct anything."

"That's bright," said Mrs. Stubbs; "he possesses more talent than I was aware of; he'll make an editor."

"An' he shall," said the father, resolutely.

The clock struck nine, which was the signal for Mr. and Mrs. Stubbs to retire, and they did so. No sooner had they left than their dutiful son mounted the table, and, taking down the fancy bust, pulled the dog by the tail to awake him, and set him barking at it.

The cat must have her part in the tragedy, so Jake thought; and, pulling her by the tail, she was soon on the field of action.