The Wit and Humor of America
Chapter 280 : In caucus or convention, in village or in town: "Who openeth a jackpot may not al

In caucus or convention, in village or in town: "Who openeth a jackpot may not always rake it down."

DUM VIVIMUS VIGILAMUS

BY JOHN PAUL

Turn out more ale, turn up the light; I will not go to bed to-night.

Of all the foes that man should dread The first and worst one is a bed.

Friends I have had both old and young, And ale we drank and songs we sung: Enough you know when this is said, That, one and all,--they died in bed.

In bed they died and I'll not go Where all my friends have perished so.

Go you who glad would buried be, But not to-night a bed for me.

For me to-night no bed prepare, But set me out my oaken chair.

And bid no other guests beside The ghosts that shall around me glide; In curling smoke-wreaths I shall see A fair and gentle company.

Though silent all, rare revelers they, Who leave you not till break of day.

Go you who would not daylight see, But not to-night a bed for me: For I've been born and I've been wed-- All of man's peril comes of bed.

And I'll not seek--whate'er befall-- Him who unbidden comes to all.

A grewsome guest, a lean-jawed wight-- G.o.d send he do not come to-night!

But if he do, to claim his own, He shall not find me lying p.r.o.ne; But blithely, bravely, sitting up, And raising high the stirrup-cup.

Then if you find a pipe unfilled, An empty chair, the brown ale spilled; Well may you know, though naught be said, That I've been borne away to bed.

AT AUNTY'S HOUSE

BY JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY

One time, when we'z at Aunty's house-- 'Way in the country!--where They's ist but woods--an' pigs, an' cows-- An' all's out-doors an' air!-- An' orchurd-swing; an' churry-trees-- An' _churries_ in 'em!--Yes, an' these- Here red-head birds steals all they please, An' tetch 'em ef you dare!-- W'y, wunst, one time, when we wuz there, _We et out on the porch_!

Wite where the cellar-door wuz shut The table wuz; an' I Let Aunty set by me an' cut My vittuls up--an' pie.

'Tuz awful funny!--I could see The red-heads in the churry-tree; An' bee-hives, where you got to be So keerful, goin' by;-- An' "Comp'ny" there an' all!--an' we-- _We et out on the porch_!

An' I ist et _p'surves_ an' things 'At Ma don't 'low me to-- An' _chickun-gizzurds_--(don't like _wings_ Like _Parunts_ does! do _you_?)

An' all the time, the wind blowed there, An' I could feel it in my hair, An' ist smell clover _ever'_where!-- An' a' old red-head flew Purt' nigh wite over my high-chair, _When we et on the porch_!

w.i.l.l.y AND THE LADY

BY GELETT BURGESS

Leave the lady, w.i.l.l.y, let the racket rip, She is going to fool you, you have lost your grip, Your brain is in a muddle and your heart is in a whirl, Come along with me, w.i.l.l.y, never mind the girl!

Come and have a man-talk; Come with those who _can_ talk; Light your pipe and listen, and the boys will see you through; Love is only chatter, Friends are all that matter; Come and talk the man-talk; that's the cure for you!

Leave the lady, w.i.l.l.y, let her letter wait, You'll forget your troubles when you get it straight, The world is full of women, and the women full of wile; Come along with me, w.i.l.l.y, we can make you smile!

Come and have a man-talk, A rousing black-and-tan talk, There are plenty there to teach you; there's a lot for you to do; Your head must stop its whirling Before you go a-girling; Come and talk the man-talk; that's the cure for you

Leave the lady, w.i.l.l.y, the night is good and long, Time for beer and 'baccy, time to have a song; Where the smoke is swirling, sorrow if you can-- Come along with me, w.i.l.l.y, come and be a man!

Come and have a man-talk, Come with those who _can_ talk, Light your pipe and listen, and the boys will see you through; Love is only chatter, Friends are all that matter; Come and talk the man-talk; that's the cure for you!

Leave the lady, w.i.l.l.y, you are rather young; When the tales are over, when the songs are sung, When the men have made you, try the girl again; Come along with me, w.i.l.l.y, you'll be better then!

Come and have a man-talk, Forget your girl-divan talk; You've got to get acquainted with another point of view!

Girls will only fool you; We're the ones to school you; Come and talk the man-talk; that's the cure for you!

A NEW YEAR IDYL

BY EUGENE FIELD

Upon this happy New Year night, A roach crawls up my pot of paste, And begs me for a tiny taste.

Aye, eat thy fill, for it is right That while the rest of earth is glad, And bells are ringing wild and free, Thou shouldst not, gentle roachling, be Forlorn and gaunt and weak and sad.

This paste to-night especially For thee and all thy kind I fixed, You'll find some whiskey in it mixed, For which you have to thank but me.

So freely of the banquet take, And if you chance to find a drop Of liquor, prithee do not stop But quaff it for thy stomach's sake.

Why dost thou stand upon thy head, All etiquette requirements scorning, And sing "You won't go home till morning"

And "Put me in my little bed"?

Your tongue, fair roach, is very thick, Your eyes are red, your cheeks are pale, Your underpinning seems to fail, You are, I wot, full as a tick.

ENVOI

I think I see that roach's home, That roach's wife, with broom in hand, That roach come staggering homeward and Then all is glum and gloom and gloam.

A LAY OF ANCIENT ROME

BY THOMAS YBARRA

Oh! the Roman was a rogue, He erat, was, you bettum; He ran his automobilis And smoked his cigarettum; He wore a diamond studibus, An elegant cravattum, A maxima c.u.m laude s.h.i.+rt, And _such_ a stylish hattum!