The Wit and Humor of America
Chapter 267 : Shall we meet again, love, In the distant When, love, When the Now is Then, love, And

Shall we meet again, love, In the distant When, love, When the Now is Then, love, And the Present Past?

Shall the mystic Yonder, On which I ponder, I sadly wonder, With thee be cast?

Ah, the joyless fleeting Of our primal meeting, And the fateful greeting Of the How and Why!

Ah, the Thingness flying From the Hereness, sighing For a love undying That fain would die!

Ah, the Ifness sadd'ning, The Whichness madd'ning, And the But ungladd'ning, That lie behind!

When the signless token Of love is broken In the speech unspoken Of mind to mind!

But the mind perceiveth When the spirit grieveth, And the heart relieveth Itself of woe; And the doubt-mists lifted From the eyes love-gifted Are rent and rifted In the warmer glow.

In the inner Me, love, As I turn to thee, love, I seem to see, love, No Ego there.

But the Meness dead, love, The Theeness fled, love, And born instead, love, An Usness rare!

THE MEETING

BY S. E. KISER

One day, in Paradise, Two angels, beaming, strolled Along the amber walk that lies Beside the street of gold.

At last they met and gazed Into each other's eyes, Then dropped their harps, amazed, And stood in mute surprise.

And other angels came, And, as they lingered near, Heard both at once exclaim: "Say, how did you get here?"

"THERE'S A BOWER OF BEAN-VINES"

BY PHOEBE CARY

There's a bower of bean-vines in Benjamin's yard, And the cabbages grow round it, planted for greens; In the time of my childhood 'twas terribly hard To bend down the bean-poles, and pick off the beans.

That bower and its products I never forget, But oft, when my landlady presses me hard, I think, are the cabbages growing there yet, Are the bean-vines still bearing in Benjamin's yard?

No, the bean-vines soon withered that once used to wave, But some beans had been gathered, the last that hung on; And a soup was distilled in a kettle, that gave All the fragrance of summer when summer was gone.

Thus memory draws from delight, ere it dies, An essence that breathes of it awfully hard; As thus good to my taste as 'twas then to my eyes, Is that bower of bean-vines in Benjamin's yard.

THE TRIAL THAT JOB MISSED

BY KENNETT HARRIS

Job had troubles, I admit; Clearly was his patience shown, Yet he never had to sit Waiting at the telephone-- Waiting, waiting to connect, The receiver at his lobe.

That's a trial, I expect, Would have been too much for Job!

After minutes of delay, While the cramps attacked his knees, Then to hear Miss Central say Innocently: "Number, please!"

When the same he'd shouted out Twenty times--he'd rend his robe, Tear his hair, I've little doubt; 'Twould have been too much for Job.

Job, with all the woes he bore, Never got the "busy" buzz When he tempted was of yore In the ancient land of Uz.

Satan missed it when he sought His one tender spot to probe; If of "central" he had thought, She'd have been too much for Job!

THE EVIDENCE IN THE CASE OF SMITH VS. JONES

BY SAMUEL L. CLEMENS

I reported this trial simply for my own amus.e.m.e.nt, one idle day last week, and without expecting to publish any portion of it--but I have seen the facts in the case so distorted and misrepresented in the daily papers that I feel it my duty to come forward and do what I can to set the plaintiff and defendant right before the public. This can best be done by submitting the plain, unembellished statements of the witnesses as given under oath before his Honor Judge Sheperd, in the Police Court, and leaving the people to form their own judgment of the matters involved, unbiased by argument or suggestion of any kind from me.

There is that nice sense of justice and that ability to discriminate between right and wrong, among the ma.s.ses, which will enable them, after carefully reading the testimony I am about to set down here, to decide without hesitation which is the innocent party and which the guilty in the remarkable case of Smith vs. Jones, and I have every confidence that before this paper shall have been out of the printing-press twenty-four hours, the high court of The People, from whose decision there is no appeal, will have swept from the innocent man all taint of blame or suspicion, and cast upon the guilty one a deathless infamy.

To such as are not used to visiting the Police Court, I will observe that there is nothing inviting about the place, there being no rich carpets, no mirrors, no pictures, no elegant sofa or arm-chairs to lounge in, no free lunch--and, in fact, nothing to make a man who has been there once desire to go again--except in cases where his bail is heavier than his fine is likely to be, under which circ.u.mstances he naturally has a tendency in that direction again, of course, in order to recover the difference.

There is a pulpit at the head of the hall, occupied by a handsome gray-haired judge, with a faculty of appearing pleasant and impartial to the disinterested spectator, and prejudiced and frosty to the last degree to the prisoner at the bar.

To the left of the pulpit is a long table for reporters; in front of the pulpit the clerks are stationed, and in the centre of the hall a nest of lawyers. On the left again are pine benches behind a railing, occupied by seedy white men, negroes, Chinamen, Kanakas--in a word, by the seedy and dejected of all nations--and in a corner is a box where more can be had when they are wanted.

On the right are more pine benches, for the use of prisoners, and their friends and witnesses.

An officer, in a gray uniform, and with a star upon his breast, guards the door.

A holy calm pervades the scene.

The case of Smith vs. Jones being called, each of these parties (stepping out from among the other seedy ones) gave the court a particular and circ.u.mstantial account of how the whole thing occurred, and then sat down.

The two narratives differed from each other.

In reality, I was half persuaded that these men were talking about two separate and distinct affairs altogether, inasmuch as no single circ.u.mstance mentioned by one was even remotely hinted at by the other.

Mr. Alfred Sowerby was then called to the witness-stand, and testified as follows:

"I was in the saloon at the time, your Honor, and I see this man Smith come up all of a sudden to Jones, who warn't saying a word, and split him in the snoot--"

LAWYER.--"Did what, sir?"

WITNESS.--"Busted him in the snoot."