He held there and he kicked there and he squirmed, but no one come; He was workin" on the roof alone--there war"n"t no folks around-- He hung like death to n.i.g.g.e.rs till his jaw was set and numb, And he reely thought he"d have to drop them shingles on the ground.
But all at once old Skillins come a-toddlin" down the street; Old Skil is sort of hump-backed, and he allus looks straight down; So he never seed the motions of them number "leven feet, And he went a-amblin" by him--the goramded blind old clown!
Now this ere part is truthful--ain"t a-stretchin" it a mite,-- When the feller seed that Skillins was a-walkin" past the place, Let go his teeth and hollered, but he grabbed back quick and tight, "Fore he had a chance to tumble, and he hung there by the face.
And he never dropped the shingles, and he never missed his grip, And he stepped out on the ladder when they raised it underneath; And up he went a-flukin" with them shingles on his hip, And there"s the satisfaction of a havin" double teeth.
PLAIN LANGUAGE FROM TRUTHFUL JAMES
BY BRET HARTE
Which I wish to remark-- And my language is plain-- That for ways that are dark, And for tricks that are vain, The heathen Chinee is peculiar, Which the same I would rise to explain.
Ah Sin was his name, And I shall not deny In regard to the same What that name might imply; But his smile it was pensive and childlike, As I frequent remarked to Bill Nye.
It was August the third, And quite soft was the skies; Which it might be inferred That Ah Sin was likewise; Yet he played it that day upon William And me in a way I despise.
Which we had a small game, And Ah Sin took a hand; It was euchre--the same He did not understand; But he smiled as he sat at the table With the smile that was childlike and bland.
Yet the cards they were stocked In a way that I grieve, And my feelings were shocked At the state of Nye"s sleeve, Which was stuffed full of aces and bowers, And the same with intent to deceive.
But the hands that were played By that heathen Chinee, And the points that he made Were quite frightful to see, Till at last he put down a right bower, Which the same Nye had dealt unto me.
Then I looked up at Nye, And he gazed upon me; And he rose with a sigh, And said, "Can this be?
We are ruined by Chinese cheap labor;"
And he went for that heathen Chinee.
In the scene that ensued I did not take a hand, But the floor it was strewed Like the leaves on the strand With the cards that Ah Sin had been hiding In the game "he did not understand."
In his sleeves, which were long, He had twenty-four packs, Which was coming it strong, Yet I state but the facts; And we found on his nails, which were taper, What is frequent in tapers--that"s wax.
Which is why I remark-- And my language is plain-- That for ways that are dark, And for tricks that are vain, The heathen Chinee is peculiar, Which the same I am free to maintain.
POSSESSION
BY WILLIAM J. LAMPTON
Oh, give me whatever I do not possess, No matter whatever it be; So long as I haven"t it that is enough, I fancy, to satisfy me.
No matter whatever I happen to have, I have it; and what I have not Seems all that is good of the good things of earth To lighten the lack of my lot.
No covetous spirit incites the desire To have what I haven"t, I"m sure; Because when I have what I haven"t, I want What I haven"t, the same as before.
So, give me whatever I do not possess, No matter whatever it be; And yet-- To have what I haven"t is having, and that Destroys all the pleasure for me.
HER BROTHER: ENFANT TERRIBLE[6]
BY EDWIN L. SABIN
This is Her brother; angel-faced,-- Barring freckles and turned-up nose,-- Demon-minded--a word well based, As nearer acquaintance will disclose.
From outward guise the most sage of men Would never guess what within lies hid!
If years we reckon, in age scant ten; If cunning, old as a pyramid.
This is Her brother, who sticks and sticks Tighter than even a brother should; Br.i.m.m.i.n.g over with teasing tricks, Hardened to bribe and "_please_ be good"; And who, when at last afar we deem, In some sly recess but lurks in wait To note the progress of love"s young dream-- And we learn of his presence too late, too late!
This is Her brother, with watchful eyes, Piercing, shameless, and indiscreet, With ears wide open for soft replies And sounds that are sibilant and sweet!
With light approach (not a lynx so still), With figure meanly invisible, With threatening voice and iron will, And shrill demands or he"ll "go and tell!"
This is Her brother--and I submit To paying out quarters and sundry dimes; This is Her brother--whose urchin wit Moves me to wrath a thousand times; This is Her brother--and hence I smile And jest and cringe at his tyranny, And call him "smart"! But just wait a while Till he"s _my_ brother--and then we"ll see!
FOOTNOTES:
[6] Lippincott"s Magazine.
THE JACKPOT
BY IRONQUILL
I sauntered down through Europe, I wandered up the Nile, I sought the mausoleums where the mummied Pharaohs lay; I found the sculptured tunnel Where quietly in style Imperial sarcophagi concealed the royal clay.
Above the vault was graven deep the motto of the crown: "Who openeth a jackpot may not always rake it down."
It"s strange what deep impressions Are made by little things.
Within the granite tunneling I saw a dingy cleft; It was a cryptic chamber.
I drew, and got four kings.
But on a brief comparison I laid them down and left, Because upon the granite stood that sentence bold and brown: "Who openeth a jackpot may not always rake it down."
I make this observation: A man with such a hand Has psychologic feelings that perhaps he should not feel, But I was somewhat rattled And in a foreign land, And had some dim suspicions, as I had not watched the deal.
And there was that inscription, too, in words that seemed to frown: "Who openeth a jackpot may not always rake it down."
These letters were not graven In Anglo-Saxon tongue; Perhaps if you had seen them you had idly pa.s.sed them by.
I studied erudition When I was somewhat young; I recognized the language when it struck my cla.s.sic eye; I saw a maxim suitable for monarch or for clown: "Who openeth a jackpot may not always rake it down."
Detesting metaphysics, I can not help but put A philosophic moral where I think it ought to hang; I"ve seen a "boom" for office Grow feeble at the root, Then change into a boomlet--then to a boomerang.