The Wit and Humor of America
Chapter 234 : "I accept your apology," said I, "but let's hurry home." Ther

"I accept your apology," said I, "but let's hurry home." There was but one residence to pa.s.s, and that, thank fortune, was so densely screened by shrubbery that the inmates could not see the road. To be sure, we were on a favorite driving road, but we could reach home in five minutes, and we might dodge into the woods if we heard a carriage coming. Ha! There came a carriage already, and we--was there ever a sorrier-looking group? There were ladies in the carriage, too--could it be--of course it was--did the evil spirit, which guided those children always, send an attendant for Miss Mayton before he began operations?

There she was, anyway--cool, neat, dainty, trying to look collected, but severely flushed by the attempt. It was of no use to drop my eyes, for she had already recognized me; so I turned to her a face which I think must have been just the one--unless more defiant--that I carried into two or three cavalry charges.

"You seem to have been having a real good time together," said she, with a conventional smile, as the carriage pa.s.sed. "Remember, you're all going to call on me to-morrow afternoon."

FOOTNOTES:

[1] Railway cars.

[2] Rocked.

[3] Basket.

A REFLECTIVE RETROSPECT

BY JOHN G. SAXE

'Tis twenty years, and something more, Since, all athirst for useful knowledge, I took some draughts of cla.s.sic lore, Drawn very mild, at ----rd College; Yet I remember all that one Could wish to hold in recollection; The boys, the joys, the noise, the fun; But not a single Conic Section.

I recollect those harsh affairs, The morning bells that gave us panics; I recollect the formal prayers, That seemed like lessons in Mechanics; I recollect the drowsy way In which the students listened to them, As clearly, in my wig, to-day, As when, a boy, I slumbered through them.

I recollect the tutors all As freshly now, if I may say so, As any chapter I recall In Homer or Ovidius Naso.

I recollect, extremely well, "Old Hugh," the mildest of fanatics; I well remember Matthew Bell, But very faintly, Mathematics.

I recollect the prizes paid For lessons fathomed to the bottom; (Alas that pencil-marks should fade!) I recollect the chaps who got 'em,-- The light equestrians who soared O'er every pa.s.sage reckoned stony; And took the chalks,--but never scored A single honor to the pony!

Ah me! what changes Time has wrought, And how predictions have miscarried!

A few have reached the goal they sought, And some are dead, and some are married!

And some in city journals war; And some as politicians bicker; And some are pleading at the bar-- For jury-verdicts, or for liquor!

And some on Trade and Commerce wait; And some in schools with dunces battle; And some the Gospel propagate; And some the choicest breeds of cattle; And some are living at their ease; And some were wrecked in "the revulsion;"

Some served the State for handsome fees, And one, I hear, upon compulsion!

LAMONT, who, in his college days, Thought e'en a cross a moral scandal, Has left his Puritanic ways, And wors.h.i.+ps now with bell and candle; And MANN, who mourned the negro's fate, And held the slave as most unlucky, Now holds him, at the market rate, On a plantation in Kentucky!

TOM KNOX--who swore in such a tone It fairly might be doubted whether It really was himself alone, Or _Knox_ and Erebus together-- Has grown a very altered man, And, changing oaths for mild entreaty, Now recommends the Christian plan To savages in Otaheite!

Alas for young ambition's vow!

How envious Fate may overthrow it!-- Poor HARVEY is in Congress now, Who struggled long to be a poet; SMITH carves (quite well) memorial stones, Who tried in vain to make the law go; HALL deals in hides; and "PIOUS JONES"

Is dealing faro in Chicago!

And, sadder still, the brilliant HAYS, Once honest, manly, and ambitious, Has taken latterly to ways Extremely profligate and vicious; By slow degrees--I can't tell how-- He's reached at last the very groundsel, And in New York he figures now, A member of the Common Council!

"HULLO!"

BY SAM WALTER FOSS

W'en you see a man in woe, Walk right up and say "hullo!"

Say "hullo," an' "how d'ye do!"

"How's the world a usin' you?"

Slap the fellow on his back, Bring your han' down with a whack; Waltz right up, an' don't go slow, Grin an' shake an' say "hullo!"

Is he clothed in rags? O sho!

Walk right up an' say "hullo!"

Rags is but a cotton roll Jest for wrappin' up a soul; An' a soul is worth a true Hale an' hearty "how d'ye do!"

Don't wait for the crowd to go, Walk right up an' say "hullo!"

W'en big vessels meet, they say, They saloot an' sail away.

Jest the same are you an' me, Lonesome s.h.i.+ps upon a sea; Each one sailing his own jog For a port beyond the fog.

Let your speakin' trumpet blow, Lift your horn an' cry "hullo!"

Say "hullo," an' "how d'ye do!"

Other folks are good as you.

W'en you leave your house of clay, Wanderin' in the Far-Away, W'en you travel through the strange Country t'other side the range, Then the souls you've cheered will know Who you be, an' say "hullo!"

THE WARRIOR

BY EUGENE FIELD

Under the window is a man, Playing an organ all the day, Grinding as only a cripple can, In a moody, vague, uncertain way.

His coat is blue and upon his face Is a look of highborn, restless pride, There is somewhat about him of martial grace And an empty sleeve hangs at his side.

"Tell me, warrior bold and true, In what carnage, night or day, Came the merciless shot to you, Bearing your good, right arm away?"

Fire dies out in the patriot's eye, Changed my warrior's tone and mien, Choked by emotion he makes reply, "Kansas--harvest--thres.h.i.+ng machine!"

THE TALE OF THE TANGLED TELEGRAM

BY WILBUR D. NESBIT

James Trottingham Minton had a cousin who lived in St. Louis. "Cousin Mary," Lucy Putnam discovered by a process of elimination, was the one topic on which the reticent Mr. Minton could become talkative. Mary was his ideal, almost. Let a girl broach the weather, he grew halt of speech; should she bring up literature, his replies were almost inane; let her seek to show that she kept abreast of the times, and talk of politics--then Jimmy seemed to harbor a great fear in his own soul. But give him the chance to make a few remarks about his cousin Mary and he approached eloquence. For this reason Lucy Putnam was wise enough to ask him something about Mary every so often.