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passages/pg1063.txt

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+
+
+The Cask of Amontillado
+
+
+by
+
+Edgar Allan Poe
+
+
+
+The thousand injuries of Fortunato I had borne as I best could, but
+when he ventured upon insult, I vowed revenge.  You, who so well know
+the nature of my soul, will not suppose, however, that I gave utterance
+to a threat.  _At length_ I would be avenged; this was a point definitely
+settled--but the very definitiveness with which it was resolved,
+precluded the idea of risk.  I must not only punish, but punish with
+impunity.  A wrong is unredressed when retribution overtakes its
+redresser.  It is equally unredressed when the avenger fails to make
+himself felt as such to him who has done the wrong.
+
+It must be understood that neither by word nor deed had I given
+Fortunato cause to doubt my good will.  I continued, as was my wont, to
+smile in his face, and he did not perceive that my smile _now_ was at
+the thought of his immolation.
+
+He had a weak point--this Fortunato--although in other regards he was a
+man to be respected and even feared.  He prided himself on his
+connoisseurship in wine.  Few Italians have the true virtuoso spirit.
+For the most part their enthusiasm is adopted to suit the time and
+opportunity--to practise imposture upon the British and Austrian
+_millionaires_.  In painting and gemmary, Fortunato, like his countrymen,
+was a quack--but in the matter of old wines he was sincere.  In this
+respect I did not differ from him materially: I was skillful in the
+Italian vintages myself, and bought largely whenever I could.
+
+It was about dusk, one evening during the supreme madness of the
+carnival season, that I encountered my friend.  He accosted me with
+excessive warmth, for he had been drinking much.  The man wore motley.
+He had on a tight-fitting parti-striped dress, and his head was
+surmounted by the conical cap and bells.  I was so pleased to see him,
+that I thought I should never have done wringing his hand.
+
+I said to him--"My dear Fortunato, you are luckily met.  How remarkably
+well you are looking to-day!  But I have received a pipe of what passes
+for Amontillado, and I have my doubts."
+
+"How?" said he.  "Amontillado?  A pipe?  Impossible!  And in the middle
+of the carnival!"
+
+"I have my doubts," I replied; "and I was silly enough to pay the full
+Amontillado price without consulting you in the matter. You were not to
+be found, and I was fearful of losing a bargain."
+
+"Amontillado!"
+
+"I have my doubts."
+
+"Amontillado!"
+
+"And I must satisfy them."
+
+"Amontillado!"
+
+"As you are engaged, I am on my way to Luchesi.  If any one has a
+critical turn, it is he.  He will tell me--"
+
+"Luchesi cannot tell Amontillado from Sherry."
+
+"And yet some fools will have it that his taste is a match for your
+own."
+
+"Come, let us go."
+
+"Whither?"
+
+"To your vaults."
+
+"My friend, no; I will not impose upon your good nature.  I perceive
+you have an engagement.  Luchesi--"
+
+"I have no engagement;--come."
+
+"My friend, no.  It is not the engagement, but the severe cold with
+which I perceive you are afflicted.  The vaults are insufferably damp.
+They are encrusted with nitre."
+
+"Let us go, nevertheless.  The cold is merely nothing. Amontillado!
+You have been imposed upon.  And as for Luchesi, he cannot distinguish
+Sherry from Amontillado."
+
+Thus speaking, Fortunato possessed himself of my arm. Putting on a mask
+of black silk, and drawing a _roquelaire_ closely about my person, I
+suffered him to hurry me to my palazzo.
+
+There were no attendants at home; they had absconded to make merry in
+honour of the time.  I had told them that I should not return until the
+morning, and had given them explicit orders not to stir from the house.
+These orders were sufficient, I well knew, to insure their immediate
+disappearance, one and all, as soon as my back was turned.
+
+I took from their sconces two flambeaux, and giving one to Fortunato,
+bowed him through several suites of rooms to the archway that led into
+the vaults.  I passed down a long and winding staircase, requesting him
+to be cautious as he followed. We came at length to the foot of the
+descent, and stood together on the damp ground of the catacombs of the
+Montresors.
+
+The gait of my friend was unsteady, and the bells upon his cap jingled
+as he strode.
+
+"The pipe," said he.
+
+"It is farther on," said I; "but observe the white web-work which
+gleams from these cavern walls."
+
+He turned towards me, and looked into my eyes with two filmy orbs that
+distilled the rheum of intoxication.
+
+"Nitre?" he asked, at length.
+
+"Nitre," I replied.  "How long have you had that cough?"
+
+"Ugh! ugh! ugh!--ugh! ugh! ugh!--ugh! ugh! ugh!--ugh! ugh! ugh!--ugh!
+ugh! ugh!"
+
+My poor friend found it impossible to reply for many minutes.
+
+"It is nothing," he said, at last.
+
+"Come," I said, with decision, "we will go back; your health is
+precious.  You are rich, respected, admired, beloved; you are happy, as
+once I was.  You are a man to be missed.  For me it is no matter.  We
+will go back; you will be ill, and I cannot be responsible.  Besides,
+there is Luchesi--"
+
+"Enough," he said; "the cough is a mere nothing; it will not kill me.
+I shall not die of a cough."
+
+"True--true," I replied; "and, indeed, I had no intention of alarming
+you unnecessarily--but you should use all proper caution. A draught of
+this Medoc will defend us from the damps."
+
+Here I knocked off the neck of a bottle which I drew from a long row of
+its fellows that lay upon the mould.
+
+"Drink," I said, presenting him the wine.
+
+He raised it to his lips with a leer.  He paused and nodded to me
+familiarly, while his bells jingled.
+
+"I drink," he said, "to the buried that repose around us."
+
+"And I to your long life."
+
+He again took my arm, and we proceeded.
+
+"These vaults," he said, "are extensive."
+
+"The Montresors," I replied, "were a great and numerous family."
+
+"I forget your arms."
+
+"A huge human foot d'or, in a field azure; the foot crushes a serpent
+rampant whose fangs are imbedded in the heel."
+
+"And the motto?"
+
+"_Nemo me impune lacessit_."
+
+"Good!" he said.
+
+The wine sparkled in his eyes and the bells jingled.  My own fancy grew
+warm with the Medoc.  We had passed through walls of piled bones, with
+casks and puncheons intermingling, into the inmost recesses of
+catacombs.  I paused again, and this time I made bold to seize
+Fortunato by an arm above the elbow.
+
+"The nitre!" I said; "see, it increases.  It hangs like moss upon the
+vaults.  We are below the river's bed.  The drops of moisture trickle
+among the bones.  Come, we will go back ere it is too late.  Your
+cough--"
+
+"It is nothing," he said; "let us go on.  But first, another draught of
+the Medoc."
+
+I broke and reached him a flagon of De Grave.  He emptied it at a
+breath.  His eyes flashed with a fierce light.  He laughed and threw
+the bottle upwards with a gesticulation I did not understand.
+
+I looked at him in surprise.  He repeated the movement--a grotesque one.
+
+"You do not comprehend?" he said.
+
+"Not I," I replied.
+
+"Then you are not of the brotherhood."
+
+"How?"
+
+"You are not of the masons."
+
+"Yes, yes," I said; "yes, yes."
+
+"You?  Impossible!  A mason?"
+
+"A mason," I replied.
+
+"A sign," he said, "a sign."
+
+"It is this," I answered, producing a trowel from beneath the folds of
+my _roquelaire_.
+
+"You jest," he exclaimed, recoiling a few paces.  "But let us proceed
+to the Amontillado."
+
+"Be it so," I said, replacing the tool beneath the cloak and again
+offering him my arm.  He leaned upon it heavily.  We continued our
+route in search of the Amontillado.  We passed through a range of low
+arches, descended, passed on, and descending again, arrived at a deep
+crypt, in which the foulness of the air caused our flambeaux rather to
+glow than flame.
+
+At the most remote end of the crypt there appeared another less
+spacious.  Its walls had been lined with human remains, piled to the
+vault overhead, in the fashion of the great catacombs of Paris.  Three
+sides of this interior crypt were still ornamented in this manner.
+From the fourth side the bones had been thrown down, and lay
+promiscuously upon the earth, forming at one point a mound of some
+size.  Within the wall thus exposed by the displacing of the bones, we
+perceived a still interior recess, in depth about four feet in width
+three, in height six or seven.  It seemed to have been constructed for
+no especial use within itself, but formed merely the interval between
+two of the colossal supports of the roof of the catacombs, and was
+backed by one of their circumscribing walls of solid granite.
+
+It was in vain that Fortunato, uplifting his dull torch, endeavoured to
+pry into the depth of the recess.  Its termination the feeble light did
+not enable us to see.
+
+"Proceed," I said; "herein is the Amontillado.  As for Luchesi--"
+
+"He is an ignoramus," interrupted my friend, as he stepped unsteadily
+forward, while I followed immediately at his heels.  In an instant he
+had reached the extremity of the niche, and finding his progress
+arrested by the rock, stood stupidly bewildered.  A moment more and I
+had fettered him to the granite.  In its surface were two iron staples,
+distant from each other about two feet, horizontally.  From one of
+these depended a short chain, from the other a padlock.  Throwing the
+links about his waist, it was but the work of a few seconds to secure
+it.  He was too much astounded to resist.  Withdrawing the key I
+stepped back from the recess.
+
+"Pass your hand," I said, "over the wall; you cannot help feeling the
+nitre.  Indeed, it is _very_ damp.  Once more let me _implore_ you to
+return.  No?  Then I must positively leave you.  But I must first
+render you all the little attentions in my power."
+
+"The Amontillado!" ejaculated my friend, not yet recovered from his
+astonishment.
+
+"True," I replied; "the Amontillado."
+
+As I said these words I busied myself among the pile of bones of which
+I have before spoken.  Throwing them aside, I soon uncovered a quantity
+of building stone and mortar.  With these materials and with the aid of
+my trowel, I began vigorously to wall up the entrance of the niche.
+
+I had scarcely laid the first tier of the masonry when I discovered
+that the intoxication of Fortunato had in a great measure worn off. The
+earliest indication I had of this was a low moaning cry from the depth
+of the recess.  It was _not_ the cry of a drunken man. There was then a
+long and obstinate silence.  I laid the second tier, and the third, and
+the fourth; and then I heard the furious vibrations of the chain.  The
+noise lasted for several minutes, during which, that I might hearken to
+it with the more satisfaction, I ceased my labours and sat down upon
+the bones. When at last the clanking subsided, I resumed the trowel,
+and finished without interruption the fifth, the sixth, and the seventh
+tier.  The wall was now nearly upon a level with my breast.  I again
+paused, and holding the flambeaux over the mason-work, threw a few
+feeble rays upon the figure within.
+
+A succession of loud and shrill screams, bursting suddenly from the
+throat of the chained form, seemed to thrust me violently back.  For a
+brief moment I hesitated--I trembled.  Unsheathing my rapier, I began
+to grope with it about the recess; but the thought of an instant
+reassured me.  I placed my hand upon the solid fabric of the catacombs,
+and felt satisfied.  I reapproached the wall; I replied to the yells of
+him who clamoured.  I re-echoed--I aided--I surpassed them in volume
+and in strength.  I did this, and the clamourer grew still.
+
+It was now midnight, and my task was drawing to a close.  I had
+completed the eighth, the ninth, and the tenth tier.  I had finished a
+portion of the last and the eleventh; there remained but a single stone
+to be fitted and plastered in.  I struggled with its weight; I placed
+it partially in its destined position.  But now there came from out the
+niche a low laugh that erected the hairs upon my head.  It was
+succeeded by a sad voice, which I had difficulty in recognizing as that
+of the noble Fortunato.  The voice said--
+
+"Ha! ha! ha!--he! he! he!--a very good joke indeed--an excellent jest.
+We shall have many a rich laugh about it at the palazzo--he! he!
+he!--over our wine--he! he! he!"
+
+"The Amontillado!" I said.
+
+"He! he! he!--he! he! he!--yes, the Amontillado.  But is it not getting
+late?  Will not they be awaiting us at the palazzo, the Lady Fortunato
+and the rest?  Let us be gone."
+
+"Yes," I said, "let us be gone."
+
+"_For the love of God, Montresor!_"
+
+"Yes," I said, "for the love of God!"
+
+But to these words I hearkened in vain for a reply.  I grew impatient.
+I called aloud--
+
+"Fortunato!"
+
+No answer.  I called again--
+
+"Fortunato--"
+
+No answer still.  I thrust a torch through the remaining aperture and
+let it fall within.  There came forth in reply only a jingling of the
+bells.  My heart grew sick on account of the dampness of the catacombs.
+I hastened to make an end of my labour.  I forced the last stone into
+its position; I plastered it up.  Against the new masonry I re-erected
+the old rampart of bones.  For the half of a century no mortal has
+disturbed them.  _In pace requiescat!_
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's The Cask of Amontillado, by Edgar Allan Poe
+
+
+

passages/pg1064.txt

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+
+
+The Masque of the Red Death
+
+by Edgar Allan Poe
+
+
+The “Red Death” had long devastated the country. No pestilence had
+ever been so fatal, or so hideous. Blood was its Avatar and its seal—the
+redness and the horror of blood. There were sharp pains, and sudden dizziness,
+and then profuse bleeding at the pores, with dissolution. The scarlet stains
+upon the body and especially upon the face of the victim, were the pest ban
+which shut him out from the aid and from the sympathy of his fellow-men. And
+the whole seizure, progress and termination of the disease, were the incidents
+of half an hour.
+
+But the Prince Prospero was happy and dauntless and sagacious. When his
+dominions were half depopulated, he summoned to his presence a thousand hale
+and light-hearted friends from among the knights and dames of his court, and
+with these retired to the deep seclusion of one of his castellated abbeys. This
+was an extensive and magnificent structure, the creation of the prince’s
+own eccentric yet august taste. A strong and lofty wall girdled it in. This
+wall had gates of iron. The courtiers, having entered, brought furnaces and
+massy hammers and welded the bolts. They resolved to leave means neither of
+ingress nor egress to the sudden impulses of despair or of frenzy from within.
+The abbey was amply provisioned. With such precautions the courtiers might bid
+defiance to contagion. The external world could take care of itself. In the
+meantime it was folly to grieve, or to think. The prince had provided all the
+appliances of pleasure. There were buffoons, there were improvisatori, there
+were ballet-dancers, there were musicians, there was Beauty, there was wine.
+All these and security were within. Without was the “Red Death”.
+
+It was towards the close of the fifth or sixth month of his seclusion, and
+while the pestilence raged most furiously abroad, that the Prince Prospero
+entertained his thousand friends at a masked ball of the most unusual
+magnificence.
+
+It was a voluptuous scene, that masquerade. But first let me tell of the rooms
+in which it was held. These were seven—an imperial suite. In many
+palaces, however, such suites form a long and straight vista, while the folding
+doors slide back nearly to the walls on either hand, so that the view of the
+whole extent is scarcely impeded. Here the case was very different, as might
+have been expected from the duke’s love of the _bizarre_. The
+apartments were so irregularly disposed that the vision embraced but little
+more than one at a time. There was a sharp turn at every twenty or thirty
+yards, and at each turn a novel effect. To the right and left, in the middle of
+each wall, a tall and narrow Gothic window looked out upon a closed corridor
+which pursued the windings of the suite. These windows were of stained glass
+whose colour varied in accordance with the prevailing hue of the decorations of
+the chamber into which it opened. That at the eastern extremity was hung, for
+example in blue—and vividly blue were its windows. The second chamber was
+purple in its ornaments and tapestries, and here the panes were purple. The
+third was green throughout, and so were the casements. The fourth was furnished
+and lighted with orange—the fifth with white—the sixth with violet.
+The seventh apartment was closely shrouded in black velvet tapestries that hung
+all over the ceiling and down the walls, falling in heavy folds upon a carpet
+of the same material and hue. But in this chamber only, the colour of the
+windows failed to correspond with the decorations. The panes here were
+scarlet—a deep blood colour. Now in no one of the seven apartments was
+there any lamp or candelabrum, amid the profusion of golden ornaments that lay
+scattered to and fro or depended from the roof. There was no light of any kind
+emanating from lamp or candle within the suite of chambers. But in the
+corridors that followed the suite, there stood, opposite to each window, a
+heavy tripod, bearing a brazier of fire, that projected its rays through the
+tinted glass and so glaringly illumined the room. And thus were produced a
+multitude of gaudy and fantastic appearances. But in the western or black
+chamber the effect of the fire-light that streamed upon the dark hangings
+through the blood-tinted panes, was ghastly in the extreme, and produced so
+wild a look upon the countenances of those who entered, that there were few of
+the company bold enough to set foot within its precincts at all.
+
+It was in this apartment, also, that there stood against the western wall, a
+gigantic clock of ebony. Its pendulum swung to and fro with a dull, heavy,
+monotonous clang; and when the minute-hand made the circuit of the face, and
+the hour was to be stricken, there came from the brazen lungs of the clock a
+sound which was clear and loud and deep and exceedingly musical, but of so
+peculiar a note and emphasis that, at each lapse of an hour, the musicians of
+the orchestra were constrained to pause, momentarily, in their performance, to
+harken to the sound; and thus the waltzers perforce ceased their evolutions;
+and there was a brief disconcert of the whole gay company; and, while the
+chimes of the clock yet rang, it was observed that the giddiest grew pale, and
+the more aged and sedate passed their hands over their brows as if in confused
+reverie or meditation. But when the echoes had fully ceased, a light laughter
+at once pervaded the assembly; the musicians looked at each other and smiled as
+if at their own nervousness and folly, and made whispering vows, each to the
+other, that the next chiming of the clock should produce in them no similar
+emotion; and then, after the lapse of sixty minutes, (which embrace three
+thousand and six hundred seconds of the Time that flies,) there came yet
+another chiming of the clock, and then were the same disconcert and
+tremulousness and meditation as before.
+
+But, in spite of these things, it was a gay and magnificent revel. The tastes
+of the duke were peculiar. He had a fine eye for colours and effects. He
+disregarded the _decora_ of mere fashion. His plans were bold and fiery,
+and his conceptions glowed with barbaric lustre. There are some who would have
+thought him mad. His followers felt that he was not. It was necessary to hear
+and see and touch him to be _sure_ that he was not.
+
+He had directed, in great part, the movable embellishments of the seven
+chambers, upon occasion of this great _fête_; and it was his own guiding
+taste which had given character to the masqueraders. Be sure they were
+grotesque. There were much glare and glitter and piquancy and
+phantasm—much of what has been since seen in “Hernani”. There
+were arabesque figures with unsuited limbs and appointments. There were
+delirious fancies such as the madman fashions. There were much of the
+beautiful, much of the wanton, much of the _bizarre_, something of the
+terrible, and not a little of that which might have excited disgust. To and fro
+in the seven chambers there stalked, in fact, a multitude of dreams. And
+these—the dreams—writhed in and about taking hue from the rooms,
+and causing the wild music of the orchestra to seem as the echo of their steps.
+And, anon, there strikes the ebony clock which stands in the hall of the
+velvet. And then, for a moment, all is still, and all is silent save the voice
+of the clock. The dreams are stiff-frozen as they stand. But the echoes of the
+chime die away—they have endured but an instant—and a light,
+half-subdued laughter floats after them as they depart. And now again the music
+swells, and the dreams live, and writhe to and fro more merrily than ever,
+taking hue from the many tinted windows through which stream the rays from the
+tripods. But to the chamber which lies most westwardly of the seven, there are
+now none of the maskers who venture; for the night is waning away; and there
+flows a ruddier light through the blood-coloured panes; and the blackness of
+the sable drapery appals; and to him whose foot falls upon the sable carpet,
+there comes from the near clock of ebony a muffled peal more solemnly emphatic
+than any which reaches _their_ ears who indulged in the more remote
+gaieties of the other apartments.
+
+But these other apartments were densely crowded, and in them beat feverishly
+the heart of life. And the revel went whirlingly on, until at length there
+commenced the sounding of midnight upon the clock. And then the music ceased,
+as I have told; and the evolutions of the waltzers were quieted; and there was
+an uneasy cessation of all things as before. But now there were twelve strokes
+to be sounded by the bell of the clock; and thus it happened, perhaps, that
+more of thought crept, with more of time, into the meditations of the
+thoughtful among those who revelled. And thus too, it happened, perhaps, that
+before the last echoes of the last chime had utterly sunk into silence, there
+were many individuals in the crowd who had found leisure to become aware of the
+presence of a masked figure which had arrested the attention of no single
+individual before. And the rumour of this new presence having spread itself
+whisperingly around, there arose at length from the whole company a buzz, or
+murmur, expressive of disapprobation and surprise—then, finally, of
+terror, of horror, and of disgust.
+
+In an assembly of phantasms such as I have painted, it may well be supposed
+that no ordinary appearance could have excited such sensation. In truth the
+masquerade licence of the night was nearly unlimited; but the figure in
+question had out-Heroded Herod, and gone beyond the bounds of even the
+prince’s indefinite decorum. There are chords in the hearts of the most
+reckless which cannot be touched without emotion. Even with the utterly lost,
+to whom life and death are equally jests, there are matters of which no jest
+can be made. The whole company, indeed, seemed now deeply to feel that in the
+costume and bearing of the stranger neither wit nor propriety existed. The
+figure was tall and gaunt, and shrouded from head to foot in the habiliments of
+the grave. The mask which concealed the visage was made so nearly to resemble
+the countenance of a stiffened corpse that the closest scrutiny must have had
+difficulty in detecting the cheat. And yet all this might have been endured, if
+not approved, by the mad revellers around. But the mummer had gone so far as to
+assume the type of the Red Death. His vesture was dabbled in
+_blood_—and his broad brow, with all the features of the face, was
+besprinkled with the scarlet horror.
+
+When the eyes of the Prince Prospero fell upon this spectral image (which, with
+a slow and solemn movement, as if more fully to sustain its role, stalked to
+and fro among the waltzers) he was seen to be convulsed, in the first moment
+with a strong shudder either of terror or distaste; but, in the next, his brow
+reddened with rage.
+
+“Who dares,”—he demanded hoarsely of the courtiers who stood
+near him—“who dares insult us with this blasphemous mockery? Seize
+him and unmask him—that we may know whom we have to hang, at sunrise,
+from the battlements!”
+
+It was in the eastern or blue chamber in which stood the Prince Prospero as he
+uttered these words. They rang throughout the seven rooms loudly and clearly,
+for the prince was a bold and robust man, and the music had become hushed at
+the waving of his hand.
+
+It was in the blue room where stood the prince, with a group of pale courtiers
+by his side. At first, as he spoke, there was a slight rushing movement of this
+group in the direction of the intruder, who at the moment was also near at
+hand, and now, with deliberate and stately step, made closer approach to the
+speaker. But from a certain nameless awe with which the mad assumptions of the
+mummer had inspired the whole party, there were found none who put forth hand
+to seize him; so that, unimpeded, he passed within a yard of the prince’s
+person; and, while the vast assembly, as if with one impulse, shrank from the
+centres of the rooms to the walls, he made his way uninterruptedly, but with
+the same solemn and measured step which had distinguished him from the first,
+through the blue chamber to the purple—through the purple to the
+green—through the green to the orange—through this again to the
+white—and even thence to the violet, ere a decided movement had been made
+to arrest him. It was then, however, that the Prince Prospero, maddening with
+rage and the shame of his own momentary cowardice, rushed hurriedly through the
+six chambers, while none followed him on account of a deadly terror that had
+seized upon all. He bore aloft a drawn dagger, and had approached, in rapid
+impetuosity, to within three or four feet of the retreating figure, when the
+latter, having attained the extremity of the velvet apartment, turned suddenly
+and confronted his pursuer. There was a sharp cry—and the dagger dropped
+gleaming upon the sable carpet, upon which, instantly afterwards, fell
+prostrate in death the Prince Prospero. Then, summoning the wild courage of
+despair, a throng of the revellers at once threw themselves into the black
+apartment, and, seizing the mummer, whose tall figure stood erect and
+motionless within the shadow of the ebony clock, gasped in unutterable horror
+at finding the grave cerements and corpse-like mask, which they handled with so
+violent a rudeness, untenanted by any tangible form.
+
+And now was acknowledged the presence of the Red Death. He had come like a
+thief in the night. And one by one dropped the revellers in the blood-bedewed
+halls of their revel, and died each in the despairing posture of his fall. And
+the life of the ebony clock went out with that of the last of the gay. And the
+flames of the tripods expired. And Darkness and Decay and the Red Death held
+illimitable dominion over all.
+
+
+
+
+
+

passages/pg11006.txt

@@ -0,0 +1,882 @@
+
+
+Copyright (c) 2003 by John Moncure Wetterau
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+The Book With
+
+   The Yellow Cover
+
+
+
+
+John Moncure Wetterau
+
+
+
+
+
+(c) copyright 2003 by John Moncure Wetterau.
+
+This work is licensed under the Creative Commons
+Attribution-NoDerivs-NonCommercial License. Essentially, anyone is free
+to copy, distribute, or perform this copyrighted work for
+non-commercial uses only, so long as the work is preserved verbatim and
+is attributed to the author.  To view a copy of this license, visit:
+http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nd-nc/1.0/ or send a letter to:
+Creative Commons
+559 Nathan Abbott Way
+Stanford, California 94305, USA.
+
+ISBN #: 0-9729587-0-3
+
+Published by:
+Fox Print Books
+137 Emery Street
+Portland, ME 04102
+
+foxprintbooks@earthlink.net
+207.775.6860
+
+
+
+Some of these poems first appeared in: Poetry East-West, The Maine
+Sunday Telegram, The Maine Times, Nostoc, Backwoods Broadsides,
+H.O.M.E., Headcheese, Chants, Backwoods Broadsides Chaplet Series, Café
+Review, and To Keep You Company.
+
+
+
+
+for w.cat
+
+
+
+
+I had a book of Chinese and Japanese poems that I gave to a friend on
+the west coast. It was a very small book with a yellow cover, stapled
+together. No adornments. Just the poems, alive after hundreds of years.
+    J.M.W.
+
+
+
+
+The Japanese Mason
+
+Without haste, gathering
+scrape of the trowel,
+slap of cement,
+reaching for a block,
+setting and tapping it level,
+turning with the wheelbarrow,
+graceful, sweating,
+freed
+of every moment.
+
+                      Kauai
+
+
+
+
+Sweet Hawaii
+
+Even if somebody did steal
+my battery, generator, oil cap,
+visegrips last night,
+I passed the test to be a taxi driver,
+and even if I don't have the money
+to buy a _Charley's Taxi_ shirt,
+congratulations to me.
+I'll figure something out.
+I'll have coffee in _Everybody's Bake Shop; _
+I'll write Varve and Finn,
+tell them I love them,
+tell them sweet Hawaii
+going to be our new home.
+
+                              Honolulu
+
+
+
+
+
+
+Bus Stop
+
+14, eyes of a deer
+       in bamboo.
+
+16, heavier, going to school
+       without her books.
+
+                  King Street
+                  Honolulu
+
+
+
+
+For Rob
+
+Handsome Rob.
+Half the women hate you;
+the other half
+will give you anything.
+Deep in Nam:
+your buddy shot, tracheotomy.
+"He died happy," you told me,
+"he believed I was going to
+save him."
+Perhaps he knew
+he would lie in your arms
+forever.
+
+
+
+
+
+Too Big
+
+Listening to Schubert
+while Great-Aunt Hannah
+embroiders on the wall,
+and darkness closes--
+what have we come to?
+We've gone wrong,
+too big
+to find our way by song,
+light
+falling on a face
+and handkerchief,
+illumination
+in the manner
+of Rembrandt.
+
+
+
+Peter's Answer
+
+Little Blue Heron, young, still white,
+by the north causeway bridge--
+stick legs, too thin
+for the swelling body,
+the visual weight of feathers,
+stepping slowly in shallow water,
+long toes trailing limply, then
+extending, three splayed forward,
+one back. Brilliant neck
+curving, poised. Dagger beak
+the same gray as legs and toes.
+Why is nature beautiful?
+The lust for pattern, Peter said.
+The heron's head rose and twisted,
+circular eye, light brown, orange
+rimmed, ancient intelligence
+asking a different question.
+I was unmoving, not dangerous.
+The heron turned to hunt,
+brush, a cloud above the river.
+
+       New Smyrna Beach,
+       Florida
+
+
+
+
+Wally's Poem
+
+Dolphins surge up and under.
+Mozart's soprano
+stitches the heart together.
+Washes for a watercolor.
+
+An ant crosses my foot.
+Wallace Klitgaard;
+_Epitome of Splendor_--
+ants, sun, one's lot.
+He typed it himself,
+showed it to me on the bus
+38 years ago.
+He was grinning,
+the glad no age
+that we become, bent
+to making clumsy prayer.
+
+
+
+
+Morning, Maine Honolulu
+
+Early mist breaking
+on low tide, mud smell.
+Ducks, the small birds,
+the rooster down the road
+begin to sing the air,
+the light, the whole
+enormous chance
+
+grateful as the old people
+reclaiming Pauahi Street,
+seeing each other in doorways
+after the night.
+
+
+
+
+I Would
+
+In 1948
+I walked all the way
+to 14th Street
+to buy a bow and arrow.
+It was 30 cents; I had 29.
+
+The woman sold it to me anyway
+and I was free and happy
+on Sixth Avenue
+as any Indian.
+
+If I could find her tonight,
+I would keep death far away.
+
+
+For Anita Bartlett,
+Too Late
+
+Why cannot blue be enough?
+Light in the sky, dark in the sea,
+the shades between.
+The green of fields,
+red clover, buttercups.
+Bridal white of apple blossoms,
+burial earth, hawk's feather, snakeskin.
+Monarchs, Anita,
+feeding on purple aster,
+fluttering up,
+sun glowing orange, brown, bronze
+through black edged wings, twenty
+joining twenty joining a hundred,
+down, up, over, from
+color to color
+to Mexico.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+Clouds booming over
+the washed woods,
+blue sun, Finn eats
+chop suey from a pot
+while I shave.
+Six months to dismantle
+the dead rooms of a marriage,
+down to a borrowed tent,
+patches of snow, and invisibly,
+all around us, sap rising
+in its own sweet time.
+
+                   April, Maine
+
+
+
+
+
+Alexis
+
+Icons, coal mines, Ten Mile Creek,
+the Monongahela,
+a long way to this house
+by the Kennebec,
+sitting erect,
+brushing your hair,
+fire and peace in your cheeks,
+preparing for the further
+steppes of feeling.
+
+
+
+Back In Town
+
+Billy Frailly's got a new shirt,
+shaved and walking down the road
+ready for anything.
+When I was in fifth grade
+Billy powered his bike up Church Hill
+(black Stetson, yellow kerchief).
+I helped him shovel out Mrs. Cowell's
+parking place. He did most of the work,
+but he split the money fifty-fifty.
+He's an outcast now;
+no frontier he can reach.
+But he's not crying, and we know
+there is no virtue, only consequence
+and the sometimes music
+of a new shirt.
+
+                   Woodstock
+
+
+
+
+Bluejay Feather
+
+Bluejay feather
+in the grass.
+Something was here
+once,
+A flash of color,
+a harsh cry,
+and it was gone.
+The feather remains:
+tough, precise,
+useful
+
+               For Sylvester
+               On his 40th
+
+
+
+
+
+
+Talking To Myself
+
+Early dark blue, one jet trail
+arching past Venus,
+snow coming tomorrow.
+My mother,
+unable to move.
+Hit it down the road, seven hours,
+stand by her bed,
+acknowledge the bond of blood,
+the sensitivity
+she could never handle,
+that I have ridden to beauty
+beyond all expectation.
+
+
+
+
+Wilson Street
+
+Low gray sky.
+Cold. Still.
+Christmas tree upside down,
+tinsel on dirty snow.
+A yellow balloon
+bounces slowly
+across Wilson Street.
+A black cat
+glides three steps up,
+turns in a doorway.
+
+                 Portland
+
+
+
+On Looking At A Mediocre Painting
+
+Thin paint. No passion.
+We would agree, I know,
+although we met only once--
+some things are in the blood.
+Mustard, orange, navy blue
+around a fake significance.
+
+The loss of Ireland, the 19th century,
+what were you to do?
+
+Fuck the beautiful, the gifted
+(my mother before she went crazy);
+leave the clanging cockroach cold
+behind (Bobby);
+find the best (Pollock, Kline,
+Noguchi, Nakian),
+live uptown (Kevin);
+die finally.
+
+Well, ashes to ashes then.
+
+But the three of us--your sons,
+scattered to separate lives--
+one way or another
+we carry you on,
+this eye,
+this fist within.
+
+                      Sean
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+Every Moment
+
+Sun warms
+one side of the alley.
+A young woman smiles at me,
+surprised by her new beauty.
+Sex, tenderness, cobblestones.
+Once I was a Venetian
+with my last gold coin.
+Once I broke my vows
+and left the Order.
+Arms around her legs,
+the blue milk crate
+on which she sits, the
+kitchen door propped open
+with a mop--every moment
+like this.
+
+                Portland
+
+
+
+
+For Tamey
+
+Drove over the bridge today,
+saw the water far below
+and once again imagined
+your last jump--
+desperation, pain, relief,
+a twist of gallantry
+across your face,
+your final bow to the truth
+you always told me to tell.
+You sure as hell saved my life.
+Tamey, I could never say goodbye.
+I miss you. I wish
+you could have played with Finnegan.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+Rough cloth,
+the gathering of giant ferns
+woven together, supple, bending,
+energy moving up your spine,
+mind dancing in the night,
+Palm Tree Exercise.
+
+                     Kailua
+
+
+
+The Early Ones
+
+Black night turns dark blue,
+a wedge of lighter blue,
+dim gray.
+Outposts on the beach
+become aware of each other:
+narrow stones
+aligned to the east,
+grouped around a driftwood stick
+sixteen inches high.
+In an hour--
+sheltered by grass, overhanging
+edge of the continent--
+they will cast long thin shadows;
+they will be first,
+brave against the day.
+
+For an anonymous sculptor,
+Crescent Beach, Maine
+
+
+
+
+
+Warm Sake
+
+Warm sake, sashimi maguro,
+blood red slices on a wooden block,
+light green chicory, pickled ginger.
+Outside: harbor ice rocking in the tide,
+translucent, thin dark edges
+swirling in black water.
+
+                           Shiki
+                           Portland
+
+
+
+
+Leaving Finn
+
+Las Cruces at dusk,
+necklace on the desert.
+Back in Tucson, Finn
+recovering from surgery,
+sweat on his nose,
+trying to smile, whispering,
+"Have a good trip, Dad."
+
+
+
+
+Late Breakfast
+
+Red nails,
+gold cigarette,
+young pampered mouth,
+hair drawn back,
+a sense of having reached
+her limits,
+a perfect twenty-two.
+There was a moment
+when she chose all this.
+
+I must begin again,
+without shame.
+
+             Wailana Coffee Shop
+             Honolulu
+
+
+
+
+Spring Dream of SueSue
+
+Perfectly quiet
+a trout lets me hold him.
+
+You surface laughing,
+dark hair,
+blue shirt unbuttoned.
+
+                   March
+
+
+
+
+Lament For Paul
+
+Scratching your beard, excited,
+"Fantastic," you said about
+the Beatles' new record.
+The next night you played
+your own shy songs, surprising us.
+You were crushed beneath your car,
+but your songs, Paul, I heard them.
+We all heard them.
+
+                      Woodstock
+
+
+
+For Coyote
+
+I think of you drinking, dancing,
+unable to sleep, reading until first light,
+a blanket drawn around your shoulders,
+afternoons, working your wheel until
+the time to mingle with true hearts,
+raise glasses, hug, laugh,
+help as you can.
+We are all dying, slower or faster,
+but it hurts to watch.
+And out of the numb exuberant wreckage of your days
+come these raku pots--
+graceful open shapes, lines freely
+scratched into the clay, deep turquoise,
+copper glazes, extravagant, surprised,
+too beautiful for tears.
+
+
+
+
+After Months
+
+Shifting unstable air,
+patches of light,
+raindrops standing on
+the candy red gas tank
+of a Kawasaki 750.
+Coming down harder,
+bouncing off the seat,
+dripping from the tips
+of black rubber handgrips,
+tach speedometer needles
+resting on their zero pegs,
+twin mirrors focused back.
+
+                  October,
+                  Maine
+
+
+
+
+Fortune Cookie
+
+Almond lemon gritty on the tongue,
+--_TIMES LONG AGO WILL PRESENT
+A SPECIAL TREASURE TO YOU_--
+A moment whole again?
+To see more clearly, Trudi, 17,
+washing in the Woodland Valley
+stream. Tamey,
+giving me another nickel
+to play pinball.
+Barbara's smile, wanting a child.
+My grandfather's arm, levering
+a floor board, skin hanging
+from his biceps cord,
+holding while I nailed.
+So many treasures I can't quite see.
+
+
+
+
+
+Wrecking Ball, Commercial Street
+
+Salmon streaks of pulverized brick,
+white pigment, tar, nicked and scarred
+in every direction, patina of blows
+on a mute obdurate interior.
+Six weeks I carried it until
+the beautiful surface cast off,
+weightless. The iron opened from
+the inside out and like a new bell
+began to sing.
+
+                        For Elena
+
+
+
+
+The Polynesian Navigator
+
+Swells current,
+sky rimmed,
+shell on a stick chart
+promise of land,
+alone and
+singing.
+
+
+
+
+Kahuna's Way
+
+Twisting through high cane,
+silver green, tossing in the trade winds,
+toward the mountain wall
+dark green jagged, deep shadows
+where a warrior prayed,
+ancient silence, Kahuna's way,
+beyond King Sugar
+and the city that is coming.
+
+                        Hulemalu Road
+                        Kauai
+
+
+
+
+41, In The Honolulu Public Library
+
+Like beautiful fish
+moving slowly through coral,
+they eddy through the library,
+dark hair, bright dark eyes,
+the wisdom of their mothers
+lying gravely on their faces;
+ready to love, to stay,
+they flick away
+on currents deep and proper.
+
+
+
+For Catherine, someday
+in a quiet hour, wondering
+what is possible
+
+When I hold your mother
+while she holds me,
+all that was, is;
+the future comes
+moment to moment,
+complete.
+For this, salmon swim
+their river, elephants
+remember, wild geese
+call out at dusk.
+I fought and risked,
+trusted and betrayed.
+How can you find another
+before you find yourself,
+traveling the heart's way,
+alone, unsure, knowing only
+that you must?
+
+
+
+
+
+Rage's Place
+
+Put your forehead
+on the ground and
+pound your fists.
+Curl on your side,
+close your eyes,
+scream silently.
+You will not be
+answered. No.
+But your cries--
+your cries will be
+clothes and flowers,
+honor
+for the journey.
+
+   for David and Louisa
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+The Purkinje Shift
+
+All day, snow,
+now turning gray,
+trees darker
+in the fading light,
+violet peace
+before the night,
+slowly drifting
+toward the solstice.
+
+              December
+
+
+
+
+Bee Fantasy
+
+Reaching, high on
+the shoulders
+of thinner air,
+rising with the Queen,
+the view! the view! mating
+falling and falling
+back to meadow,
+the warm dark,
+first light,
+dancing out the maps.
+
+
+
+
+The American Way
+
+F18's screaming down
+wing tip to wing tip,
+brave, lethal, steady nerve.
+Johnny Copeland's lead guitar
+ripping through the air,
+taking us faster, inverting, 6 G's,
+dark forehead, sweat, hot and loose.
+Face at the bar, arched eyebrows,
+black hair back, wide mouth,
+brooding, sensual, slightly battered.
+Fighters, blues man, beauty,
+power at the edge,
+the American way.
+
+                      Maine
+
+
+The Sculptor's Trade
+
+On white stands:
+azure/turquoise branches,
+flow and knuckle taken
+by poured bronze--
+bent, welded, gripped,
+held, colored--
+artifacts, works in progress,
+ship's ribs, basketry,
+child's play.
+Hands dream as they fashion,
+remember what they feel
+(her thin shoulder,
+a 9/16 inch wrench).
+Let go. Follow
+the sculptor's trade.
+Find and shape
+what is not known
+until it's made.
+
+                 For John von Bergen
+
+
+
+
+Elegy For Simenon
+
+Fresh air, faintly salty,
+smell of bark and fallen apples,
+small pond, lily pads,
+dark water. White blossoms
+tinged with ruby, floating,
+heavy with light.
+You enter one, still searching.
+Slowly,
+petals fold around you.
+
+                  Deer Isle, Maine
+
+
+
+
+
+
+Unfinished
+
+Your hands
+for clothes.
+Your legs,
+home.
+We
+
+
+For w.cat
+
+Married twice,
+once in a church,
+once in City Hall,
+each good in its way.
+Now I choose the shade
+of a live oak tree, veils
+of Spanish moss,
+a hundred cicadas
+singing in the branches.
+You are in the north,
+but still we join
+beneath this green
+and raucous dome
+Mated. Complete.
+Mindful
+of those
+alone.
+
+        New Smyrna Beach,
+        Florida
+
+
+

passages/pg12132.txt

@@ -0,0 +1,306 @@
+
+
+THE LADY OF THE BARGE
+
+AND OTHER STORIES
+
+By W. W. Jacobs
+
+
+
+
+THREE AT TABLE
+
+
+The talk in the coffee-room had been of ghosts and apparitions, and
+nearly everybody present had contributed his mite to the stock of
+information upon a hazy and somewhat thread-bare subject.  Opinions
+ranged from rank incredulity to childlike faith, one believer going so
+far as to denounce unbelief as impious, with a reference to the Witch of
+Endor, which was somewhat marred by being complicated in an inexplicable
+fashion with the story of Jonah.
+
+"Talking of Jonah," he said solemnly, with a happy disregard of the fact
+that he had declined to answer several eager questions put to him on the
+subject, "look at the strange tales sailors tell us."
+
+"I wouldn't advise you to believe all those," said a bluff, clean-shaven
+man, who had been listening without speaking much.  "You see when a
+sailor gets ashore he's expected to have something to tell, and his
+friends would be rather disappointed if he had not."
+
+"It's a well-known fact," interrupted the first speaker firmly, "that
+sailors are very prone to see visions."
+
+"They are," said the other dryly, "they generally see them in pairs, and
+the shock to the nervous system frequently causes headache next morning."
+
+"You never saw anything yourself?"  suggested an unbeliever.
+
+"Man and boy," said the other, "I've been at sea thirty years, and the
+only unpleasant incident of that kind occurred in a quiet English
+countryside."
+
+"And that?"  said another man.
+
+"I was a young man at the time," said the narrator, drawing at his pipe
+and glancing good-humouredly at the company.  "I had just come back from
+China, and my own people being away I went down into the country to
+invite myself to stay with an uncle.  When I got down to the place I
+found it closed and the family in the South of France; but as they were
+due back in a couple of days I decided to put up at the Royal George,
+a very decent inn, and await their return.
+
+"The first day I passed well enough; but in the evening the dulness of
+the rambling old place, in which I was the only visitor, began to weigh
+upon my spirits, and the next morning after a late breakfast I set out
+with the intention of having a brisk day's walk.
+
+"I started off in excellent spirits, for the day was bright and frosty,
+with a powdering of snow on the iron-bound roads and nipped hedges, and
+the country had to me all the charm of novelty.  It was certainly flat,
+but there was plenty of timber, and the villages through which I passed
+were old and picturesque.
+
+"I lunched luxuriously on bread and cheese and beer in the bar of a small
+inn, and resolved to go a little further before turning back.  When at
+length I found I had gone far enough, I turned up a lane at right angles
+to the road I was passing, and resolved to find my way back by another
+route.  It is a long lane that has no turning, but this had several, each
+of which had turnings of its own, which generally led, as I found by
+trying two or three of them, into the open marshes.  Then, tired of
+lanes, I resolved to rely upon the small compass which hung from my watch
+chain and go across country home.
+
+"I had got well into the marshes when a white fog, which had been for
+some time hovering round the edge of the ditches, began gradually to
+spread.  There was no escaping it, but by aid of my compass I was saved
+from making a circular tour and fell instead into frozen ditches or
+stumbled over roots in the grass.  I kept my course, however, until at
+four o'clock, when night was coming rapidly up to lend a hand to the fog,
+I was fain to confess myself lost.
+
+"The compass was now no good to me, and I wandered about miserably,
+occasionally giving a shout on the chance of being heard by some passing
+shepherd or farmhand.  At length by great good luck I found my feet on a
+rough road driven through the marshes, and by walking slowly and tapping
+with my stick managed to keep to it.  I had followed it for some distance
+when I heard footsteps approaching me.
+
+"We stopped as we met, and the new arrival, a sturdy-looking countryman,
+hearing of my plight, walked back with me for nearly a mile, and putting
+me on to a road gave me minute instructions how to reach a village some
+three miles distant.
+
+"I was so tired that three miles sounded like ten, and besides that, a
+little way off from the road I saw dimly a lighted window.  I pointed it
+out, but my companion shuddered and looked round him uneasily.
+
+"'You won't get no good there,' he said, hastily.
+
+"'Why not?' I asked.
+
+"'There's a something there, sir,' he replied, 'what 'tis I dunno, but
+the little 'un belonging to a gamekeeper as used to live in these parts
+see it, and it was never much good afterward.  Some say as it's a poor
+mad thing, others says as it's a kind of animal; but whatever it is, it
+ain't good to see.'
+
+"'Well, I'll keep on, then,' I said.  'Goodnight.'
+
+"He went back whistling cheerily until his footsteps died away in the
+distance, and I followed the road he had indicated until it divided into
+three, any one of which to a stranger might be said to lead straight on.
+I was now cold and tired, and having half made up my mind walked slowly
+back toward the house.
+
+"At first all I could see of it was the little patch of light at the
+window. I made for that until it disappeared suddenly, and I found myself
+walking into a tall hedge. I felt my way round this until I came to a
+small gate, and opening it cautiously, walked, not without some little
+nervousness, up a long path which led to the door. There was no light and
+no sound from within. Half repenting of my temerity I shortened my stick
+and knocked lightly upon the door.
+
+"I waited a couple of minutes and then knocked again, and my stick was
+still beating the door when it opened suddenly and a tall bony old woman,
+holding a candle, confronted me.
+
+"'What do you want?' she demanded gruffly.
+
+"'I've lost my way,' I said, civilly; 'I want to get to Ashville.'
+
+"'Don't know it,' said the old woman.
+
+"She was about to close the door when a man emerged from a room at the
+side of the hall and came toward us.  An old man of great height and
+breadth of shoulder.
+
+"'Ashville is fifteen miles distant,' he said slowly.
+
+"'If you will direct me to the nearest village, I shall be grateful,' I
+remarked.
+
+"He made no reply, but exchanged a quick, furtive glance with the woman.
+She made a gesture of dissent.
+
+"'The nearest place is three miles off,' he said, turning to me and
+apparently trying to soften a naturally harsh voice; 'if you will give me
+the pleasure of your company, I will make you as comfortable as I can.'
+
+"I hesitated.  They were certainly a queer-looking couple, and the gloomy
+hall with the shadows thrown by the candle looked hardly more inviting
+than the darkness outside.
+
+"'You are very kind,' I murmured, irresolutely, 'but--'
+
+"'Come in,' he said quickly; 'shut the door, Anne.'
+
+"Almost before I knew it I was standing inside and the old woman,
+muttering to herself, had closed the door behind me.  With a queer
+sensation of being trapped I followed my host into the room, and taking
+the proffered chair warmed my frozen fingers at the fire.
+
+"'Dinner will soon be ready,' said the old man, regarding me closely. 'If
+you will excuse me.'
+
+"I bowed and he left the room.  A minute afterward I heard voices; his
+and the old woman's, and, I fancied, a third.  Before I had finished my
+inspection of the room he returned, and regarded me with the same strange
+look I had noticed before.
+
+"'There will be three of us at dinner,' he said, at length. 'We two and
+my son.'
+
+"I bowed again, and secretly hoped that that look didn't run in the
+family.
+
+"'I suppose you don't mind dining in the dark,' he said, abruptly.
+
+"'Not at all,' I replied, hiding my surprise as well as I could, 'but
+really I'm afraid I'm intruding. If you'll allow me--'
+
+"He waved his huge gaunt hands. 'We're not going to lose you now we've
+got you,' he said, with a dry laugh.  'It's seldom we have company, and
+now we've got you we'll keep you.  My son's eyes are bad, and he can't
+stand the light.  Ah, here is Anne.'
+
+"As he spoke the old woman entered, and, eyeing me stealthily, began to
+lay the cloth, while my host, taking a chair the other side of the
+hearth, sat looking silently into the fire.  The table set, the old woman
+brought in a pair of fowls ready carved in a dish, and placing three
+chairs, left the room.  The old man hesitated a moment, and then, rising
+from his chair, placed a large screen in front of the fire and slowly
+extinguished the candles.
+
+"'Blind man's holiday,' he said, with clumsy jocosity, and groping his
+way to the door opened it.  Somebody came back into the room with him,
+and in a slow, uncertain fashion took a seat at the table, and the
+strangest voice I have ever heard broke a silence which was fast becoming
+oppressive.
+
+"'A cold night,' it said slowly.
+
+"I replied in the affirmative, and light or no light, fell to with an
+appetite which had only been sharpened by the snack in the middle of the
+day.  It was somewhat difficult eating in the dark, and it was evident
+from the behaviour of my invisible companions that they were as unused to
+dining under such circumstances as I was.  We ate in silence until the
+old woman blundered into the room with some sweets and put them with a
+crash upon the table.
+
+"'Are you a stranger about here?' inquired the curious voice again.
+
+"I replied in the affirmative, and murmured something about my luck in
+stumbling upon such a good dinner.
+
+"'Stumbling is a very good word for it,' said the voice grimly.  'You
+have forgotten the port, father.'
+
+"'So I have,' said the old man, rising.  'It's a bottle of the
+"Celebrated" to-day; I will get it myself.'
+
+"He felt his way to the door, and closing it behind him, left me alone
+with my unseen neighbour.  There was something so strange about the whole
+business that I must confess to more than a slight feeling of uneasiness.
+
+"My host seemed to be absent a long time.  I heard the man opposite lay
+down his fork and spoon, and half fancied I could see a pair of wild eyes
+shining through the gloom like a cat's.
+
+"With a growing sense of uneasiness I pushed my chair back.  It caught
+the hearthrug, and in my efforts to disentangle it the screen fell over
+with a crash and in the flickering light of the fire I saw the face of
+the creature opposite.  With a sharp catch of my breath I left my chair
+and stood with clenched fists beside it.  Man or beast, which was it?
+The flame leaped up and then went out, and in the mere red glow of the
+fire it looked more devilish than before.
+
+"For a few moments we regarded each other in silence; then the door
+opened and the old man returned.  He stood aghast as he saw the warm
+firelight, and then approaching the table mechanically put down a couple
+of bottles.
+
+"'I beg your pardon,' said I, reassured by his presence, 'but I have
+accidentally overturned the screen.  Allow me to replace it.'
+
+"'No,' said the old man, gently, 'let it be.
+
+"'We have had enough of the dark.  I'll give you a light.'
+
+"He struck a match and slowly lit the candles.  Then--I saw that the man
+opposite had but the remnant of a face, a gaunt wolfish face in which one
+unquenched eye, the sole remaining feature, still glittered.  I was
+greatly moved, some suspicion of the truth occurring to me.
+
+"'My son was injured some years ago in a burning house,' said the old
+man.  'Since then we have lived a very retired life.  When you came to
+the door we--' his voice trembled, 'that is-my son---'
+
+"'I thought," said the son simply, 'that it would be better for me not to
+come to the dinner-table.  But it happens to be my birthday, and my
+father would not hear of my dining alone, so we hit upon this foolish
+plan of dining in the dark.  I'm sorry I startled you.'
+
+"'I am sorry,' said I, as I reached across the table and gripped his
+hand, 'that I am such a fool; but it was only in the dark that you
+startled me.'
+
+"From a faint tinge in the old man's cheek and a certain pleasant
+softening of the poor solitary eye in front of me I secretly
+congratulated myself upon this last remark.
+
+"'We never see a friend,' said the old man, apologetically, 'and the
+temptation to have company was too much for us.  Besides, I don't know
+what else you could have done.'
+
+"'Nothing else half so good, I'm sure,' said I.
+
+"'Come,' said my host, with almost a sprightly air.  'Now we know each
+other, draw our chairs to the fire and let's keep this birthday in a
+proper fashion.'
+
+"He drew a small table to the fire for the glasses and produced a box of
+cigars, and placing a chair for the old servant, sternly bade her to sit
+down and drink.  If the talk was not sparkling, it did not lack for
+vivacity, and we were soon as merry a party as I have ever seen.  The
+night wore on so rapidly that we could hardly believe our ears when in a
+lull in the conversation a clock in the hall struck twelve.
+
+"'A last toast before we retire,' said my host, pitching the end of his
+cigar into the fire and turning to the small table.
+
+"We had drunk several before this, but there was something impressive in
+the old man's manner as he rose and took up his glass.  His tall figure
+seemed to get taller, and his voice rang as he gazed proudly at his
+disfigured son.
+
+"'The health of the children my boy saved!' he said, and drained his
+glass at a draught."
+
+
+
+
+
+
+

passages/pg15095.txt

@@ -0,0 +1,284 @@
+
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Kentuckiana Digital Library, David Garcia and the PG
+Online Distributed Proofreading Team.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+_A Dainty Trifle for my Lady Love_
+
+
+THE STORY OF A PICTURE
+
+
+_By Douglass Sherley_
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+John P. Morton & Co., Louisville,
+
+1884.
+
+Copyrighted 1884,
+  By Douglass Sherley.
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"Near my bed, there, hangs a Picture jewels could not buy from me."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+There was a colored crayon in a crowded shop-window. Other people passed
+it by, but a Youth of the Town, with Hope in his heart, leaned over the
+guard-rail and looked upon the beauty of that pictured face long and
+earnestly.
+
+It was the head of a pretty girl with dark hair and dark eyes. She was
+clad in a dainty white gown, loose-flowing and beautiful. In her left
+hand, slender and uplifted, a letter; in her right a pen, and beneath it
+a spotless page.
+
+She was seated within the shadow of a white marble chimney-piece richly
+carved with Cupids, fluttering, kneeling, supplicating; with arrows new,
+broken, and mended; with quivers full, depleted, and empty. The great,
+broad shelf above her pretty head was laden with rare and artistic
+treasures. A vase from India; a costly fan from China; a dark and
+mottled bit of color in an ancient frame of tarnished gold, done by some
+Flemish master of the long-ago. Beyond all this, a ground of shadowy
+green, pale, cool, and delicious. On the table, near the spotless page
+and the dear pen-clasping hand, a bunch of flowers; not a mass of ugly
+blooms, opulent and oppressive, but a few garden roses, old-fashioned
+and exceeding sweet, blushing to their utmost red, having found
+themselves so unexpectedly brought into the presence of this pretty
+girl.
+
+This, in outline, was the picture. The dealer had written on a slip of
+paper, in large, rude letters,
+
+  _Her answer: Yes, or No._
+
+It was a frameless crayon, thrust aside and somewhat overshadowed by a
+huge and garish thing in gaudy-flowered gilt, which easily caught and
+held the eye of the busy throng.
+
+The Youth passed on to his duty of the day with Hope in his heart. Light
+grew his heavy task, and the drudgery of his work was forgotten--he was
+haunted by the sight of that face in the Picture. The softness of the
+eye, the sweetness of the mouth, or something, made the Youth of the
+noisy Town believe her answer would surely be--Yes.
+
+Now the Youth and the Afternoon Shadows together came and feasted on the
+beauty of that Maiden's face. The Shadows, without booty, fled away into
+the night. But not so with the Youth. In triumph he brought it to the
+favored room of his own dear home; and always thereafter this Picture
+gleamed in beauty from out its chimney-piece setting of ebony and old
+cherry.
+
+She was always pretty, sometimes beautiful, but not always the same,
+this my Lady of the Picture. She was indeed a changeful Lady, as the
+story will tell. Those who saw her face when first she was given the
+place of honor in the home of this Youth, with Hope in his heart, all
+said, and with one accord, "There is but one answer for her to make, and
+that one answer is, Yes."
+
+The Easter-tide growing old, and the Summer time new and beautiful,
+brought no change. The last light of each day fell on the clear-cut and
+delicate face, gilded the dark hair with a deep russet brown, played
+about the sweet mouth--and was gone, leaving her with answer yet
+ungiven.
+
+The first fire of the Autumn crackled and glowed on the tiled hearth,
+and threw a Shadow on the face of the pretty girl in the Picture; and
+from that moment there was a change. "But it is only a Shadow from the
+fire-light glow," said the Youth of the Town. But something within
+whispered, "You are wrong; she is going to say, No."
+
+Again and again the words repeated themselves, clearly and distinctly,
+"You are wrong! you are wrong! you are wrong!" Then vaguely and almost
+inaudibly, "She is going to say, No;" with his own voice he made effort
+to drown the words of that fateful refrain. "It is the idle, spiteful
+chatter of some evil spirit. My heart is full of Hope, and I will not
+believe it." But that night, alone with his book and the face over the
+fire, only embers on the hearth--_the Shadow was still there_. But
+he said that it was a wild and troubled fancy--"It is not, can not be an
+actual Shadow; women may change, but surely not pictures."
+
+The next day Autumn repented of its wanton folly, and called out with
+Sunshine and Brightness for the return of the dead Summer. The light
+fell on the face of the girl in the Picture, but it did not lift the
+Shadow. Nor did the dead Summer return to gladden the heart of the
+Autumn, full of too late and useless regret. "No, I am not certain,"
+said the Youth, touched with a Doubt. It was only a touch, but his step
+was heavy and a trifle less quick, as he went down the street to his
+Duty of the day. Again he passed by the crowded shop window. The dealer
+had filled the vacant corner; but he did not see, and he did not care to
+see, what was there. For there was now only one picture in all the world
+for this Youth of the Town with Hope in his heart; but something else
+had crowded into his heart, and it was--Doubt. He went on his way and
+about his duty with this one hopeful thought: "The nightfall will bring
+a change, and the Shadow will have gone." But each day the Shadow
+deepened, and the Youth carried with him a more troubled and a less
+hopeful heart. All those who saw the Picture, and who had seen it
+when first it came, now looked upon it with painful surprise, and
+unhesitatingly said, "Your pretty-faced girl over the mantel yonder
+is undoubtedly going to say, No."
+
+Into the soft, dark eye there seemed to have crept a glitter, cold and
+almost unfeeling. The fatal Shadow had hardened, but not altogether
+stolen away the beauty of that sweet mouth. Even the loose-flowing gown
+seemed to have lost its easy grace, and stiffened into splendid and
+haughty folds, fit only for the form of some grand old Dame proud of her
+beauty and proud of her ancient coronet. The very lace about her slender
+throat--but a misty web of dainty and intricate work--seemed to have
+crystallized and whitened, as if done with a sharp and skillful chisel.
+The pale, pinky tinge about the perfect little ear had deepened into
+a more rosy hue, which had overspread the face--barely more than
+pale--with a deep color and a glow of emotion only half concealed.
+Ah, was it a look of triumph? was it the consciousness of power?
+
+The left hand, holding her Lover's letter, had lost its somewhat
+tremulous look. The fingers of the other hand had tightened about the
+pen, hovering over that unwritten page. And, in short, she seemed ready
+to write the answer--what will it be? The heart of the Youth was full of
+Trouble. Hope flickered up into an uncertain existence. Now the Picture
+had grown hateful to his sight; so a silken curtain, in crimson folds,
+clung against and hid away the face of this Changeful Lady.
+
+But no sooner was the curtain drawn, hiding from sight the lovely and
+beloved face, but an all-powerful desire brought him back again, and lo!
+the curtain was rudely thrust aside; but alas! there was no change.
+
+When away from his room and the siren-like face behind its silken folds
+of crimson, he fretted to return and look again for a change wrought out
+by his brief absence; but there was none.
+
+Hateful indeed the sight may have been of that changeful face, but it
+had grown to him absolutely necessary, and more pleasant, indeed, even
+when hard, cold, and unkind, than other faces not less beautiful smiling
+sweet unspoken words.
+
+He slept in a curtained space near by, and often waked in the still
+watches of the after-midnight, with the Hope in his heart, flaring up
+into a flame and burning him with a desire for another sight of that
+fickle face. Before the picture there hung a dim, red light, which
+burned all the night long. It was a swinging lamp of many tangled chains
+and fretted Venetian metal work. Once it had swung before an holy altar
+in an ancient Mexican town, where it had shed an unextinguished light
+throughout many years. It was a holy thing; so the Youth had thought it
+worthy of a place before the deep-set Picture of the chimney-piece--the
+shrine of his heart's treasure. Thus awakened out of troubled sleep, he
+often rose and stood before the covered Picture, beneath the swinging
+red light brought--stolen, perhaps--from the sacred sanctuary of that
+ancient church down in the land of Mexico. Often, with Hope, Doubt, and
+Fear in his heart, he would turn away from before the untouched curtain.
+"Useless, useless, useless," would be the burden of his thought.
+
+The third Easter-tide comes with its brightness, its flowers, and its
+Hopes--yet my Lady of the Picture has not changed. Still that same
+relentless look; still that premonition of a No not yet said; still in
+her left hand she holds the letter; still in her right hand the pen, and
+the page beneath it is yet guiltless of a word.
+
+But frowns and relentless looks have not put to flight the remnant of
+Hope in the heart of the Youth. "It is only a picture. Why should I
+trouble?" he said.
+
+But words are easy, and many questions are hard to answer.
+
+The Youth had loved the face when first he saw it in the crowded
+shop-window of the Town. So did he love it now. Change can not kill
+Love, if Love it be. What matter to the Youth even if the eye had grown
+cold and a Shadow rested about the sweet mouth? Can such things as these
+make denial to the heart of a Lover? Aye, to the heart of a Love-maker,
+but not to the heart of one who loves. There is no limit to Love. A
+thousand nays can not check its course if true Love it be.
+
+But again there is a change with my Lady of the Picture. Does the heart
+of the advancing Easter-tide hold the magic spell? Those who chance to
+see her now note it, and think it strange. "No," they murmur, "will be
+her answer. But it is her Duty that bids her, and she must obey."
+
+The silken curtain is torn down and the light of day completes the
+triple story of this, my Lady of the Picture. The cold glitter is gone
+from about the eyes, and the old soft light has returned, and yet it is
+not the same as of old. The fatal Shadow round about the sweet mouth is
+but a bare outline--a shade, not a Shadow any more.
+
+Again the pretty white gown is loose--flowing and beautiful. The thought
+of the grand old Dame, proud of her beauty and proud of her ancient
+coronet, vanishes with the morning mist of the Easter-tide. Again the
+dainty lace that clings to her slender white and flower-like throat,
+softens and grows creamy and weblike, free from the bleachment and
+crystallization of a while ago. Again the face is barely more than pale.
+The deep color has faded away, leaving but a faint, delicate trace, and
+a pinky tinge which reaches out until it kisses the utmost tip of her
+perfect little ear. How deep, tender, and wondrous sad those eyes have
+grown! Down in their dark depths her very soul seems to tremble into
+sight. It is only one who has suffered who can have such eyes. And, in
+truth, it is worth almost a lifetime of suffering to look deep down into
+such eyes of sad beauty. She was but a pretty-faced girl; but now,
+behold! she is a beautiful woman. And she is weary, O, so weary with the
+long, hard battle within.
+
+But Fear and Doubt still dwell and share with Hope a place in the heart
+of the Youth. He finds it sweet comfort to believe that even if her
+answer be No, it may come from a sense of Duty. Love is Love always, but
+not so with Duty. For that which may be Duty to-day may not be Duty on
+the morrow.
+
+So the Youth of the Town longs for the coming of the morrow.
+
+Who wrote, and sent to her with those sweet red roses from some old-time
+garden, this, his Lover's letter, which she still is holding in her left
+hand, once again just a trifle tremulous? Who has asked this question of
+a woman's heart? Is he a man strong and noble, whom she does not love,
+yet does not wish to wound? Or is it some one less strong, less noble,
+who has her Love, although he be unworthy of it?
+
+And does Duty bid her make denial, even though it break her loving
+heart?
+
+Is it Regret, Duty, Love, or What?
+
+But still she gives no answer. And the Youth of the Town is still
+hoping, doubting, fearing.
+
+Ah, my sweet, sad-eyed Lady, what will your answer be?
+
+
+
+  Sherley Place,
+    Easter-tide, 1884.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's The Story of a Picture, by Douglass Sherley
+
+
+

passages/pg17068.txt

@@ -0,0 +1,647 @@
+
+
+
+E-text prepared by Hilary Caws-Elwitt in honor of Jean Caws
+
+
+
+Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this
+      file which includes the original illustrations.
+      See 17068-h.htm or 17068-h.zip:
+      (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/7/0/6/17068/17068-h/17068-h.htm)
+      or
+      (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/7/0/6/17068/17068-h.zip)
+
+
+
+
+
+                    Have you seen
+
+             "The Animals' Trip to Sea"
+
+                         and
+
+                "The Animals' Picnic"
+
+                  by CLIFTON BINGHAM
+
+             illustrated by G. H. THOMPSON
+
+                      NOW READY
+
+
+              *     *     *     *     *
+
+
+
+
+THE
+ANIMALS'
+REBELLION
+
+described by
+CLIFTON BINGHAM
+
+and pictured by
+G. H. THOMPSON
+
+London                                              New York
+Ernest Nister       Printed in Bavaria.        E P Dutton & Co
+
+
+              *     *     *     *     *
+
+
+
+
+The Animals' Rebellion.
+
+
+The "Trip to Sea"[A] had long been made,
+The "Picnic"[B] bills had all been paid;
+But if you'll listen, I will tell
+What made the animals rebel.
+
+The Tiger was dissatisfied--
+"Why should the Lion reign?" he cried;
+"He's no more King of Beasts than I;
+So let us all his rule defy!"
+
+A secret meeting then he called:
+And while the others stood appalled,
+His wants and grievances explained,
+And quickly some adherents gained.
+
+The Fox his joy could not conceal--
+"In guns," thought he, "I'll make a deal!"
+The Owl, who all his speeches heard,
+Took care to take down every word:
+
+And ere the rising of the sun,
+The Great Rebellion had begun!
+
+[Footnote A: "The Animals' Trip to Sea."]
+[Footnote B: "The Animals' Picnic."]
+
+
+[Illustration: SECRET MEETING OF THE REBELS]
+
+
+
+
+The Tiger's Petition
+
+
+The King sat on his Throne one day,
+  His Crown upon his brow;
+To him, in most obsequious way,
+  The Tiger made his bow.
+
+His long petition he unrolled,
+  With names all written down;
+The courtiers stared--their blood ran cold--
+  King Leo gave a frown.
+
+"What have we here?" demanded he,
+  "And what does he require?"
+The Elephant said, "Here I see
+  A traitor, royal sire!"
+
+The Brown Bear murmured, "So do I--
+  He's right, without a doubt!"
+The monarch cried, with flashing eye,
+  "Turn this intruder out!"
+
+[Illustration: PRESENTING A PETITION TO THE KING]
+
+At midnight, in an empty hut,
+  Deep in the forest old,
+The Rebels met with doors close shut,
+  Their dark schemes to unfold.
+
+"Friends!" Tiger cried, "no more we'll brook
+  This despot's cruel reign;
+Our charter lies before us--look!
+  The plan of our campaign!"
+
+
+
+
+Mr. Fox's Armoury.
+
+
+Directly Brother Fox was told,
+  He ransacked all his stores,
+And soon was making bags of gold
+ And selling guns in scores.
+
+The Brown Bear bought a blunderbuss;
+  And when they saw the arm,
+The Bunnies all cried, "Don't shoot _us_!
+  We've not done any harm!"
+
+The Tiger thought revolvers best,
+  So he bought half a score;
+"No guns I've had," said Fox, with zest,
+"_Went off_ so well before!"
+
+"Don't fear, my Bunnies, you'll be shot,
+  Though each has bought a gun;
+I'll whisper this," said  Fox: "they've got
+  Blank cartridge ev'ry one!"
+
+[Illustration: THE ARMORY]
+
+
+
+
+Raising the Standard.
+
+
+From lair to lair the news soon spread,
+And one and all leapt out of bed,
+And sallied forth, with loud hurrays,
+The Standard of Revolt to raise.
+
+The Bear looked fierce, the Crocodile
+Put on his most bloodthirsty smile;
+The Leopard and the Wolf were there,
+And cheers resounded in the air.
+
+The Tiger roared a lengthy speech,
+And called, in loudest tones, on each
+To do his best when came the fray,
+Not be afraid, nor run away.
+
+Cried he: "Now, onward to the field,
+To make this tyrant monarch yield!"
+"Charge, Leopard, charge--on, Tiger, on!"
+Were the first words of Rebellion.
+
+[Illustration: RAISING THE STANDARD OF REVOLT]
+
+Next morn a Scout the Camp alarms,
+The Lion's soldiers fly to arms.
+"The enemy advance!" he cries,
+"And means to take you by surprise!"
+In Leo's Camp, on Zootown plains,
+The utmost consternation reigns.
+
+
+
+
+In Leo's Camp.
+
+
+This startling news the peaceful Camp
+  With preparation fills,
+Resounding with the soldiers' tramp,
+  The noise of many drills.
+
+The Sergeants shout, the General storms;
+  All round one sees and hears
+The trying on of uniforms,
+  The clank of swords and spears.
+
+The Fox pretended, by and by,
+  To be deaf, dumb and lame;
+But Jacko, with a placard "Spy,"
+  Quite spoilt his little game.
+
+Field Marshal Hippo shouted out,
+  "Arrest him on the spot!"
+If he had not escaped, no doubt
+  He'd promptly have been shot.
+
+[Illustration: A SPY IN CAMP]
+
+
+
+
+Preparing for the Fray.
+
+Preparing for the coming fray,
+The Camp was busy night and day;
+The Rhino had his horn re-ground,
+Because it had got blunt he found.
+
+The Elephant had his tusks, too,
+Re-sharpened till they looked like new;
+In fact, the Ape's new grindstone strong
+Was working nearly all day long.
+
+All day the Camp was never still--
+With marching to and fro, and drill;
+And quite right too, since it appears
+They hadn't been to war for years.
+
+The oldest there had never known
+Such preparations to be shown;
+Indeed, they'd never had, somehow,
+A great Rebellion until now.
+
+[Illustration: PREPARING FOR THE FRAY]
+
+Next day took place the Grand Review,
+  Before His Majesty,
+The troops marched past in order true--
+  A splendid sight to see.
+
+The speech he made filled all with pride,
+  As brave as brave could be:
+"For Country and for King," he cried,
+  "On, on to victory!"
+
+
+
+
+The Advance Guard.
+
+
+Then marched they forth unto the fray
+A battle fierce took place next day;
+I'm told it was a fearful fight,
+That lasted quite from morn till night.
+
+Through hail of shot and rain of lead,
+His Rebel band the Tiger led;
+And found that when the fight was done
+A brilliant victory was won.
+
+In vain King Leo's gallant band
+(The Prince of Tails was in command)
+Essayed the Rebel force to beat--
+The effort ended in defeat.
+
+Their cocoa-nuts, with deadly aim,
+The Monkeys threw, but all the same;
+Though Jumbo streams of water poured,
+The enemy a victory scored.
+
+[Illustration: THE FIRST ENCOUNTER WITH THE ENEMY]
+
+
+
+
+The Elephant Wounded.
+
+
+Alas! for he so bravely fought,
+  Poor Jumbo wounded lay;
+The ambulance they quickly brought
+  To where he fell that day.
+
+"To Hospital this instant!" cried
+  The Surgeon in command;
+"Don't let them say he would have died
+  If we'd not been at hand!"
+
+"But, wait," he said, "till I with care
+  Have quite examined him!"
+He probed him here, and probed him there,
+  And tested every limb.
+
+"It's but a nervous shock!" he said,
+  "Since he's so large and fat;
+You can't take him, and so, instead,
+  You'd better take his hat!"
+
+[Illustration: A WOUNDED HERO]
+
+Ere dusk the King's troops had retreated,
+By Tiger's Rebel band defeated;
+They ran pell-mell and helter-skelter,
+For any place to give them shelter.
+
+The Elephant, though he was wounded,
+Ran faster than the big Baboon did;
+The Owl to Camp flew like a bird
+To tell the King what had occurred.
+
+
+
+
+Rejoicings in the Rebel Camp
+
+
+Rejoicings in the Rebel Camp
+  Were great indeed that night;
+Each tent hung out a Chinese lamp
+  To celebrate the fight.
+
+They sang and shouted, o'er and o'er,
+  Until their throats were tired;
+They let off fireworks by the score,
+  A "feu de joie" was fired.
+
+When Wolf, who's not a marksman good,
+  Shot holes in Bear's new hat,
+Bear never even said, "You should
+  Apologise for that!"
+
+In short, they would, as like as not,
+  Have kept it up till day;
+Had someone not found out they'd shot
+  Their powder all away.
+
+[Illustration: REJOICINGS IN THE REBEL CAMP]
+
+
+
+
+Marching on the King's Capital.
+
+
+Next morn, with victory elate,
+"Why should we wait or hesitate?
+We'll march at once, without delay,
+Upon the Capital!" cried they.
+
+"That's _capital_!" a Monkey said,
+(But he at once was sent to bed!)
+But, all the same, it was agreed,
+So General Tiger took the lead.
+
+With flying flags and drums rat-tan
+The Rebels' onward march began.
+Cried Tiger, "Leoville one mile!"
+"That's nothing!" said the Crocodile.
+
+But Wolf, who kept a good look-out,
+Saw Private Whiskers out on scout.
+"Ha, ha," cried he, "I've caught a spy--
+That means promotion by and by!"
+
+[Illustration: MARCHING ON THE KING'S CAPITAL]
+
+"Great victory!" said Wolf, with pride,
+  And showed his prize with rapture;
+"Well done, indeed," the Tiger cried,
+  "A most important capture!"
+
+
+
+
+The Battle.
+
+
+Soon with the Lion's gallant troops
+  The Rebels were engaged;
+This way and that, 'midst wildest whoops
+  The tide of battle raged.
+
+The Elephant first sounded "Charge!"
+  And valiant deeds performed;
+The Rebels saw his trunk so large,
+  And trembled when he stormed.
+
+At first, though, neither side gained much;
+  But when 'twas paw to paw,
+The Owl, in his report, said, "Such
+  A fight I never saw!"
+
+Said Wolf, "No more at war I'll scoff,
+  I think I'd best begone!"
+And when the foe's last gun _went off_
+  The battle still _went on_.
+
+[Illustration: THE BATTLE]
+
+
+
+
+The Cavalry Charge.
+
+
+But, oh! the finest sight to see
+Was Leo's Giraffe Cavalry;
+As down the battle plain they tore,
+The Rebels saw that all was o'er.
+
+As on the Monkey troopers swept,
+The Bunnies to their holes all crept;
+The foe who set triumphant out
+Was first a rabble, then a rout!
+
+The Owl, in "Zooland," said, next day:
+"Our troops like chaff swept them away;
+Their praises let us loudly sing,
+Who won the day for Leo, King!"
+
+[Illustration: THE CHARGE OF THE GIRAFFE CAVALRY]
+
+The leader, Tiger, soon was caught,
+And into Camp a prisoner brought;
+A warning to this very day,
+To all who at Rebellion play.
+
+
+
+
+The Court-Martial.
+
+
+Field Marshal Leo then and there
+  A stern Court-Martial held;
+The prisoner, with defiant air,
+  Explained why he rebelled.
+
+"Such conduct," said the President,
+  "Admits of no defence;
+But since you ask it, I'll consent
+  To hear the evidence."
+
+'Twas heard--in "Zooland" of that week
+  You'll find the Owl's report;
+The President then rose to speak,
+  The sentence of the Court.
+
+"On all counts guilty he appears--
+  The prisoner's sentenced to
+A lenient term--a hundred years
+  Confinement in the Zoo!"
+
+[Illustration: THE COURT-MARTIAL]
+
+
+
+
+The Rebels Surrender.
+
+
+The other Rebels, when they heard
+Of what to Tiger had occurred,
+Surrendered everyone next day,
+And threw down arms without delay.
+
+The Bear said, "I don't want to keep
+My blunderbuss--'twas much too cheap!"
+The Leopard and the Crocodile
+Threw theirs upon the growing pile.
+
+Of loyalty each took the oath,
+While Jumbo and Lord Rhino, both
+Promoted Colonels by the King,
+Kept watch that each his gun did bring.
+
+And Colonel Jumbo winked his eye
+To Colonel Rhino, standing by:
+"We'd be Field Marshals soon, no fear,
+If we'd Rebellions ev'ry year!"
+
+[Illustration: THE REBELS SURRENDER]
+
+This done, the prisoners were sent
+Off to perpetual banishment;
+Forbidden thenceforth, under pain
+Of death, to e'er come back again!
+Oh, sad indeed that Rebel band,
+That bade farewell to dear Zooland.
+
+
+
+
+One of the King's Heroes.
+
+
+T'was soon remarked by not a few
+  That Hippo was not seen;
+The rumour ran--alas! too true--
+  That he had wounded been.
+
+Then messengers went out and found
+  The hero of the strife;
+His wounds with bandages were bound
+  By his most loving wife.
+
+The King himself, when he was told,
+  In person--came to see;
+"When well," said he, "oh, hero bold,
+Sir Hippo you shall be!"
+
+With Surgeon's skill and wifely care
+  He soon recovered quite;
+Now there's no soldier anywhere
+  Like Sir John Hippo, Knight.
+
+[Illustration: ONE OF THE KING'S HEROES]
+
+
+
+
+The King's Return.
+
+
+With clash of brass and drums that banged,
+With flags that flew and bells that clanged,
+They celebrated, as you see,
+The King's return from victory.
+
+  Rejoicings reigned on every hand,
+  The noise was great, the music grand;
+  They bought up all the butchers' shops,
+  Gave everyone free steaks and chops.
+
+  Buns, nuts and cakes were given away,
+  The children had a holiday;
+  His people came from far and nigh
+  To see King Leo riding by.
+
+  The cavalry were there, of course,
+  And everyone next day was hoarse;
+  For 'twas not often they could see
+  A King return from victory.
+
+[Illustration: RETURN OF THE KING TO HIS CAPITAL]
+
+Next day the King an order gave
+  That he would distribute
+His medals to his soldiers brave,
+  Both cavalry and foot.
+
+The medals were the very best--
+  Some putty and some tin;
+The King unto each hero's breast
+  Affixed them with a pin.
+
+
+
+
+Home Again.
+
+
+Now ended is the strife and fray,
+  Dispersed the Rebel train;
+There's joy in Jumbo Hall to-day,
+  For Daddy's home again.
+
+Watch Mamma Jumbo's beaming face
+  To see him safe and sound,
+Of battle showing not a trace,
+  Although with glory crowned.
+
+'Tis good once more to see him curl
+  His big trunk with delight,
+And toss in air his baby girl
+  Before she says good-night.
+
+While Tommy vows, when he is tall,
+  He'll fight with might and main;
+Oh, all is joy at Jumbo Hall
+  Now Daddy's home again.
+
+[Illustration: HOME AGAIN]
+
+[Illustration: LONG LIVE KING LEO]
+
+
+              *     *     *     *     *
+
+
+
+
+_By the same Author and Artist._
+
+
+THE ANIMALS' TRIP TO SEA.
+
+The most fascinating thing of the kind we ever saw. --The Guardian.
+
+Is brimful of fun from cover to cover. --The Queen.
+
+Is extremely funny and decidedly original. --St. James's Gazette.
+
+A hearty welcome to the nursery will be accorded to "The Animals' Trip
+to Sea." --The New York Churchman.
+
+The cleverest thing we have seen for many moons in the shape of
+a picture-book for children. --Boston Herald.
+
+Cannot fail to elicit shouts of laughter from the observing little ones.
+--The Boston Beacon.
+
+
+THE ANIMALS' PICNIC.
+
+It is a highly enjoyable book for children of all ages. --The Guardian.
+
+Absolutely brimming over with wit and humour. --The Baptist.
+
+The illustrations should bring a smile to the most sedate countenance.
+--Liverpool Courier.
+
+This book deserves to be a favorite with holiday gift buyers.
+--Chicago Record Herald.
+
+Is made up of humorous rhymes and quite as humorous pictures. --The
+Dial (Chicago).
+
+The pictures are both colored and in black and white, and practical
+experience enables us to state positively that they do in point of fact
+immensely amuse young children. --The Outlook (New York).
+
+
+
+
+

passages/pg17387.txt

@@ -0,0 +1,269 @@
+
+
+
+This eBook was produced by David Garcia and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from
+images generously made available by The Kentuckiana Digital Library).
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+                                Mr. Bamboo
+                                 _and the_
+                           Honorable Little God
+
+
+                             A Christmas Story
+
+
+
+
+                           _Fannie C. Macaulay_
+                 _Author of "The Lady of The Decoration"_
+
+
+
+
+                             _By Courtesy of_
+                     _The Century Publishing Company_
+                                   _to_
+                  _Louisville Kindergarten Alumnae Club_
+
+
+
+
+
+
+MR. BAMBOO AND THE HONORABLE LITTLE GOD
+
+
+During sundry long and lonely evenings in a Japanese mission school,
+a young native teacher sought to while away the hours for a homesick
+exile. She was girlish and fair, with the soft voice and gentle,
+indescribable charm characteristic of the women of her race. Her tales
+were of the kindergarten, happenings in her life and the lives of
+others, and I have sought to set them down as she told them to me in
+her quaint, broken English. But they miss the earnest eyes and dramatic
+gestures of the little story-teller as she sat in the glow of the
+hibachi fire, with a background of paper doors, with shadow pictures
+of pine-trees and bamboo etched by the moonlight, the far-off song of
+a nightingale, and the air sweet with incense from nearby shrines.
+
+He wear name of Tãke Nishimura, which in English say' Mr. Bamboo of the
+West Village. He most funny little boy in my kindergarten class. But he
+have such sweet heart. It all time speaking out nice thoughtfuls through
+his big round eyes, which no seem like Japanese eyes of long and narrow.
+
+His so much slim of body make him look like baby. But his mama say' he
+been here four years. She nice lady and loving mother. One more thing
+why that child's most funny small enfant. He have papa who is great
+general of war, with big spirit. Tãke Chan fixed idea in his head he's
+just same kind big warrior man. He use same walk and the same command
+of speak.
+
+This time I relate you about was most Christmas-time. I tell story to
+children of long time ago, when big star say to all worlds Christ baby
+lay in manger, and I say soon we celebrate joyful day in kindergarten.
+That little Tãke Chan never hear 'bout it before, and he get look in
+his face same as John boy in picture what always have crooked stick
+in his hand, and he speak this word: "A new God? Will He be our guest
+on feast-day?"
+
+We learn song 'bout star and cradle and 'gain he speak his thought.
+He say: "What is cradle, Sensei? I know 'bout star. Every night at my
+honorable home I open shoji to see old priest strike bell and make him
+sing. Then I see big star hang out light over topmost of mountain." One
+more time he say, like thinking to himself: "Cradle. Maybe him shrine
+for new God of foreign country."
+
+I know English for long time, but Japanese childs never know cradle.
+It have not come to this land.
+
+Christmas-story was telled many times, for children like to hear about
+it. When I say this time, on that day we get pine-tree and dress him
+up with many gifts, Tãke Chan clap his hands and say: "Banzai! We make
+offering of tree to new God."
+
+Sometimes many troubles press my mind how I make childs know much
+difference of real God, which he never see, and those wooden-stones we
+see all time with burning of lights before them and leaves of bamboo
+and pine.
+
+We work very hard all days before morning of Christmas-tree, but not one
+child in whole class could make things such fast as Tãke Chan. His hands
+so small they look 'most like bird-foots hopping round quick in flower
+garden when he construct ornaments of bright color. Sometimes he have
+look of tired in his face, and bad coughs take his throat. For which,
+if I did not know 'bout Christmas-story and all other many things like
+that, I would have a thought that fox spirit was industrious to enter
+his body.
+
+Then I mention, "Go play in garden", for I know well how he have like
+of play in lovely garden of his home, where, with body of bare, he race
+big dragon-flies what paint the summer air all gold and blue. But Tãke
+Chan makes the laughs for me when looks so firmly and say: "No. I have
+the busy to make ready for honorable guest coming on feast-day of
+Christman." All times he not singing he talk 'bout what big welcome we
+give to new God.
+
+Ah, that little boy! I can no' make him have the right understand';
+but he walk right into my heart, and give me the joyful of love and
+much sad.
+
+No, I never forget that Christmas day. It makes of my mind a canvas and
+paints pictures on it what will never wash away nor burn.
+
+In morning, sun 'most so slow climbing over mountain as snail creeping
+up Fuji. He get big surprise when his eye come into kindergarten window
+and find me very busy for a long time.
+
+All teachers have many works, and very soon they turn their playroom
+into lovely feast-place. Paper flowers and ornaments which childrens
+build with hands, and red berries they bring from forest, have
+expression same as growing from walls and windows. Same thought as all
+teachers to give the happy to glad Christmas-day. Many Japanese childs
+is just getting news of this birthday.
+
+Quick we put piano where it can sing best, chairs all in circle. Big
+spot in middle for tree, which comes at very last from that other room.
+
+While I work postman bring long box from foreign country, which one
+teacher open. It had gift for kindergarten. It was such beautiful thing.
+Many childrens never see same as this before. All teachers give quick
+decide to make secret of present, and put on Christmas-tree as big
+surprise.
+
+In very middle of most happy time by opening box, idea arrive in my
+mind. Wonder if those coughs permission Tãke Chan to come kindergarten
+that day? One desire knock very loud at my heart for that little Bamboo
+boy to know rightly 'bout Christ-child. I know for surely. Once I go to
+foreign country, and my life have experience of seventeen. But Japanese
+child of now must see God and everything.
+
+Then glad thought come. If Tãke Chan do not make absence this day, his
+own eye will tell him trulier than stiff speech of tongue that cradle is
+not shrine, and Christ child not blazon image of wooden stone, but great
+spirit of invisible which have much love for childrens. I learn those
+words out of book, but meaning come out my own heart, which I have the
+difficult to give childs.
+
+Beginning time for morning march grow very near. Him not come, and the
+anxious so restless my body I run to big gate and view round and up.
+
+Narrow street which walk by kindergarten house most lovely picture than
+all other countries of universe. It have many trimmings of flags and
+banners for greeting soon coming of New-Year. Even old plum-trees have
+happy to break pink flowers out full, and lay on gray roof to look at
+bright sun. The big love of my heart for this Japanese country make me
+so delightful I have little forget 'bout late of Tãke Chan till I hear
+spank of many feet on hard earth. I look, and see one of those pictures
+which never melt off my mind. That sound of feet belong' to soldiers
+company, and so quick they stop in long line and hold all hands to hat
+for salute, I think maybe Oyama San coming. I give piercing look, and my
+eyes see marching straight by those big mens a speck of blue all trimmed
+with gold braid. It was Tãke Chan. Same war clothes as his papa, even
+same number stripes on his sleeve, and twelve inch' of sword on his
+side, which make song on heel of shoe when they walk. Father's two
+soldiers servants walk close behind Tãke Chan, and in smiles. Everybody
+know that little boy, and everybody love his earnest. I have several
+feelings when he walk up to me and say: "New guest have he come? I make
+ready to welcome with new clothes."
+
+Ah, me! I have the yearn to convey the right understand'; but he look so
+glad to give the welcome, and his war clothes so grand, the feeble fell
+on my heart. I not give correction.
+
+One servant say: "Last night Tãke Chan very sick with evil spirit cough.
+Mama say rest at home, but he say this great feast-day for new God.
+He must for certain come and offer pine-tree and have song and march."
+I hurry away with Tãke Chan, and take seat on circle of kindergarten room.
+A feel of anxious press' hard. First we have grand parade, and that
+little soldier boy in blue in front of all children have atmosphere same
+he was marching before emperor. My keen of eye see all time he have
+fight with swallow in his throat. After march come song 'bout cradle and
+star, but big cough catch Tãke Chan in middle, and when the strangle had
+left and tears of hot had wipe way, he heard childrens saying amen to
+prayer. His red lip have little shake, for he have great pride to say
+that prayer faster than any childs. He have hospitable of soul, too.
+But Tãke Chan son of great general of war, and he never cry, even though
+much disappoint' come to his mind. I was hunting speech to give him the
+comfort of heart when children give sound with mouth like storm breeze
+hurrying through leaves. I look. Where door of other room always lived
+was most beautiful Christmas-tree of any world, all light with flaming
+candles and gold and silver balls. On very tip-most top the lovely big
+surprise from foreign country. It wore dress of spangly stars and white.
+Big brown eyes and hair like rice-straw when sun shines through it.
+It held out welcome arms. Every move of tree give sway to body. I know
+trulier, but surely, it have look of real life. Teacher rolled tree
+to middle of room in bare spot, which made glad to have it. Children
+laughed and clapped hands happy of that day, and call' many funny
+sayings. I forget the anxious in my happy of that day, and turn with
+glad eye on Tãke Chan. Bamboo boy. Never I see such wonderful thing
+as the glory. First he see only it, and give low tight whisper, "The
+Offering." His eye fly to tip of top. He lean' way over like his body
+break with eager. Joyful speech come with long sigh, "Ah--the guest
+he is come!" For one minute room very still, and just same as fairy
+give him enchantment Tãke Chan rose from floor till he come right under
+tree. Other childrens make such merries. They have thought it play.
+But all sounds and peoples passes away from my vision. Nothing left
+but picture of one small blue soldier looking up through blazon flames
+of Christmas-tree to shining thing above. His cheeks so full of red with
+fighting cough, eyes so bright with wet of tears, he fold his hands
+for prayer, and soft like pigeon talking with mate he speak: "O most
+Honorable Little God! How splendid! You are real; come live with me. In
+my garden I am a soldier; I'll show you the dragon-flies and the river.
+Please will you come?" My heart have pause of beat. I think fever give
+Tãke Chan's mind delirious. Quick I uncement my feet from floor to go to
+him. "Tahke Chan," I say with lovely voice, "that is not a God nor even
+image. Listen: it's only a big foreign doll which postman bring this
+morning as great surprise from America. Teacher put it up high so all
+childs could see it. Look what kindergarten give you--most beautiful
+kite, like dragon-fly you love more better. Come rest in your chair.
+We sing."
+
+Ah, that little play soldier! Door of his ear all shut to my every speak
+of love. He just stand with eyes uplift' and plead: "Please come play
+with me. I know your song 'bout cradle and star. And I can march. See."
+But his body rock from each side to other. Then I press my arms round
+and whisper with much tender: "I bring doll home with you." He look 'way
+up high on Christmas-tree, then he leave his conscious in kindergarten
+room.
+
+Me and two soldier servants convey Tãke Chan and foreign doll to his
+home. I stay in honorable house with them. One day go by, and 'nother
+night come. Sick boy's mama have look of ivory lady as she rest her
+tired, and maid girl make tea. I watch by side of bed on floor. Big ache
+in heart clutch' me when I look round room and see blue soldier's suit
+hang' near. It have look of empty and lonely, dragon-fly kite in corner
+have broken wing. But when I bring gaze back Tãke Chan, loveliest sight
+of all visit me. That little child reach out and find hand of foreign
+doll. He hold very tight, and give it look of love. Such heaven light
+come on his face! I suspend my breath and listen to his low speech which
+come in broken pieces: "You are my Tomidachi. Do not go; I soon be well
+I come play in your garden. Dragon-flies--cradle--star--Ah, Little
+God--you grow so big!"
+
+Something made me open shoji quick. Old priest make bell sing. Lovely
+star hangs its light over mountain. All things have great stillness. Not
+even leaf tremble in white moonlight. Strange feel hold me. Then I know
+Tãke Chan have gone to play in Christ-child's garden.
+
+Ah, me! Tears of my heart are many for that little Bamboo. But I have
+the joyful too; Now he have the right understand'.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+

passages/pg20024.txt

@@ -0,0 +1,733 @@
+
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Louise Hope, Mark C. Orton, Fox in the Stars
+and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at
+http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+[Transcriber's Note:
+
+Illustrations are explained at the end of the text.]
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+           *       *       *       *
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Crankisms
+
+By
+Lisle
+de
+Vaux
+MATTHEWMAN
+
+Pictured
+By
+Clare
+Victor
+DWIGGINS
+
+
+* MCMI *
+HENRY T.
+COATES & CO.
+PHILADELPHIA
+
+
+
+
+Copyright, 1901, by
+Henry T. Coates & Company.
+_All rights reserved._
+
+
+
+
+If I may be permitted to offer a suggestion, the Crankisms
+should be read in the spirit in which sermons are listened
+to--with the object of discovering whom they hit. This will
+furnish amusement, for what is more entertaining than trying
+the cap on others?
+
+The settings speak for themselves; but the author desires
+to express his indebtedness to the artist for having infused
+life into and lent grace to dead bones of words, and for
+having, in many cases, given to those words a deeper and
+more subtle meaning than they themselves could be made to
+express.
+
+L. de V. M.
+
+May,
+1901.
+
+
+
+
+1
+
+The kisses of an enemy are deceitful, but not as deceitful
+as the advice of the friend who is always counseling you for
+your own good.
+
+
+2
+
+The best and the worst in man respond only to woman's
+touch--unfortunately for man.
+
+
+3
+
+Men reason; women do not. Woman has no logic, and judging
+from the use it is to man, is better off without it.
+
+
+4
+
+The present arrangement of society refuses to many the
+means to live, while forbidding them the right to die when
+they wish.
+
+
+5
+
+Woman generally tries to attract a man's eye, and then
+blames him for being caught by prettiness and superficial
+charms. But she rarely tries to appeal to his better self.
+
+
+6
+
+The man who is pockmarked has most to say against freckles.
+
+
+7
+
+Charity covers a multitude of sins which are committed in
+her name.
+
+
+8
+
+Life is full of golden opportunities for doing what we do
+not want to do.
+
+
+9
+
+Never compliment a woman and you will earn her undying
+enmity. Respect is rarely appreciated by her; but
+compliments are always at a premium, even counterfeits being
+accepted as greedily as the real.
+
+
+10
+
+When we grow old we walk unfeelingly over that which we,
+in our youth, madly chased.
+
+
+11
+
+The biggest fool is the one who thinks he can fool others
+with impunity without them knowing and resenting it.
+
+
+12
+
+When we get what we want we are always disappointed to find
+that it is not what we wanted.
+
+
+13
+
+Like does not always worship like: Beauty often worships the
+Beast.
+
+
+14
+
+We were all in the front row when modesty was served out--at
+least we think so.
+
+
+15
+
+Because some men are ruined by intemperance it does not
+follow that all should become abstainers, any more than
+because some men are ruined by marriage all men should
+remain single.
+
+
+16
+
+What men see in women or women in men to admire is generally
+a puzzle to those who know the men and women in question
+intimately.
+
+
+17
+
+The only compliment which a woman really dislikes is that
+which is paid to another.
+
+
+18
+
+Things have changed since Shakespeare's time: men's evil
+deeds we write in sympathetic ink; their virtues on marble
+tombstones.
+
+
+19
+
+Our own weaknesses we regard as misfortunes from which we
+cannot escape; the weaknesses of others we consider crimes.
+
+
+20
+
+No matter how well we do, we are sure to be anxious to
+impress upon others that what we have achieved is trifling--
+compared with that of which we are capable.
+
+
+21
+
+A woman is not a woman merely by reason of her sex, any more
+than an angel is of necessity an angel of light.
+
+
+22
+
+We are quite able, while hating sin, to pity and be
+charitable to the sinner--when we happen to be the sinner
+concerned.
+
+
+23
+
+The commonly accepted idea that a woman of beauty is of
+necessity lacking in mental qualities, must have originated
+in the head of some woman who possessed neither.
+
+
+24
+
+The Devil is not as black as he is painted. In fact, he is
+more like us than we care to admit.
+
+
+25
+
+Faithful are the wounds of a friend; and as it is more
+blessed to give than to receive, we prefer to do the
+wounding.
+
+
+26
+
+  The naked truth and a naked lie
+  Are shocking alike to society.
+
+
+27
+
+A man often envies another man his physical
+qualities--rarely his mental. As we have no soul mirror we
+cannot see the reflection of our spiritual deformities.
+
+
+28
+
+It is easy to have conscientious scruples when they are
+profitable.
+
+
+29
+
+The man who marries for money is a fool, but rarely as big a
+fool as he who marries for love.
+
+
+30
+
+When you have done a man a favor do not insist too earnestly
+that it is a mere trifle, or he may take you at your word
+and not trouble to repay it; which would be very
+disappointing.
+
+
+31
+
+The gentle art of making enemies is the one natural
+accomplishment which is common to all sorts and conditions
+of men--and women.
+
+
+32
+
+What we think of ourselves combined with what others think
+of us is a very fair estimate.
+
+
+33
+
+If a girl cannot make up her mind between two men it is
+because she has no mind worth making up.
+
+Besides, any man who will knowingly be one of two is not
+worth the trouble of thinking about.
+
+
+34
+
+If we devoted as much attention to our own affairs as we
+freely give to those of others, we and others would be
+gainers.
+
+
+35
+
+Merit, like the show inside a circus, is of comparatively
+little use as a drawing card; it is the bluff and buncombe
+the banging drum and megaphone of the barker which is the
+successful magnet.
+
+
+36
+
+We always know what we should do under certain
+circumstances, but unfortunately we never find circumstances
+arranged so as to suit what we do.
+
+
+37
+
+An over sensitive conscience is simply the evidence of
+spiritual dyspepsia. The man who has it is no better than
+his fellows.
+
+
+38
+
+Generosity, as commonly understood, consists in forcing upon
+others that for which one has no use.
+
+
+39
+
+There is a greater difference between really thinking and
+only thinking that we think than most of us think.
+
+
+40
+
+We rashly demand that the devil shall have his due,
+forgetting that if that gentleman gets all that is coming to
+him it will go badly with some of us.
+
+
+41
+
+If women knew themselves as well as they know men--and if
+men knew women as well as they know themselves--things would
+be very much as they are.
+
+
+42
+
+Before he knows a woman a man often thinks her an angel;
+when he knows her he knows--er--better.
+
+
+43
+
+A critic is one who knows perfectly well how a thing should
+be done, but is unable to do it. Therefore we are all the
+keenest critics in matters of which we know least.
+
+
+44
+
+From all enemies and most friends, good Lord, deliver us!
+
+
+45
+
+Everything comes to the man who waits
+
+but that is no inducement to wait-- for no man wants
+everything.
+
+He usually wants one thing in particular-- just that one
+which he never gets, no matter how long he waits.
+
+
+46
+
+When a man has drained the dregs of the bitterness of life,
+hope and fear no longer exist in him, only indifference
+which produces stupefaction.
+
+
+47
+
+Forbidden fruit has no attraction until we know that it is
+forbidden.
+
+
+48
+
+A man can be judged from the theatres he frequents and the
+ladies who accompany him there.
+
+
+49
+
+Criticism grows faint in the presence of successful
+achievement.
+
+
+50-51
+
+A man may confess that his judgment was at fault,
+but
+
+never that his intentions were other than strictly
+honorable.
+
+
+52
+
+Our last match never ignites except when we are sure it will
+not, and are prepared for the worst.
+
+
+53
+
+It is impossible to serve two masters, and few of us try.
+We are satisfied to praise God from whom all blessings flow
+while we cash the checks of Mammon.
+
+
+54
+
+Our own success is due to our indomitable energy and other
+deserving traits; that of others largely to blind luck. With
+our energy and the good luck of others what could we not
+achieve!
+
+
+55
+
+The trouble with most reformers that they waste their time
+and energy trying to reform somebody else.
+
+
+56
+
+We are convinced in our own minds that every man deserves
+what he gets; but, judging from ourselves, not every one
+gets what he deserves.
+
+
+57
+
+If we saw ourselves as others see us we should not believe
+our own eyes; but we should have a still lower opinion of
+the rest of the world than we now have.
+
+
+58
+
+When we care we usually don't dare; when we dare we don't
+often care.
+
+
+59
+
+What sounds so sweet as the human voice--to the one who is
+doing the talking!
+
+
+60
+
+Words may be mere wind, but then so is a tornado.
+
+
+61
+
+Laugh, and the world laughs with you; cry, and the world
+laughs at you.
+
+
+62
+
+A proverbial expression is often a crystallized lie which we
+should like to believe.
+
+
+63
+
+Because everything is for the best it does not follow that
+it is for our best.
+
+
+64
+
+It is easier to moralize than to be moral.
+
+
+65
+
+The difference between an actress on the stage and a woman
+not on the stage is a matter of here and there.
+
+
+66
+
+Ignorance is not so surprising, nor such a mark of
+inferiority, as unwillingness to learn.
+
+
+67
+
+He who grows indignant when his veracity is questioned
+generally has good and sufficient reason therefor.
+
+
+68
+
+Our joys are mainly those of prospect and retrospect.
+
+
+69
+
+It is not to be expected that the average man should know
+what a real woman is like--he so rarely sees one.
+
+
+70
+
+The Chinese promise and never intend to perform; we promise
+and do intend to perform.
+
+The result is about the same.
+
+
+71
+
+Woman regards the criticizing of her sex as her own
+prerogative, and criticizes more bitterly than any man would
+think of doing; but she resents any criticism, no matter how
+just, from man.
+
+
+72
+
+Lambs, it is true, gambol, but in due time they all get
+fleeced.
+
+
+73
+
+What we need is some philosopher to tell us how to be happy
+when we have every reason for being unhappy.
+
+
+74
+
+The most striking trait of the average man is unwillingness
+to be convinced--that we are right and he is wrong.
+
+
+75
+
+If man were so constituted that he could pat himself on the
+back gracefully, or kick himself effectively, he would spend
+most of his spare time doing one or the other.
+
+
+76
+
+Most of us live as if we expected to be judged from our
+epitaph rather than from our conduct.
+
+
+77
+
+The world is a paradise for fools, a purgatory or worse for
+others.
+
+
+78
+
+When we have the capacity of enjoying we have not the reason
+for enjoyment; when we do have good and sufficient grounds
+we no longer have the capacity.
+
+
+79
+
+To be happy, give; to be successful, take; to be happy and
+successful, give and take.
+
+
+80
+
+What a woman admires in a man depends on whether she is
+married or single.
+
+
+81
+
+Confidence given is usually confidence misplaced.
+
+
+82
+
+Women admire the gilded youth because he is a golden calf.
+
+
+83
+
+Even those who do not repeat scandal are generally willing
+to listen to it. Talk of the virtues of another, and, as a
+rule, your hearers will get bored; only hint that you could
+a tale unfold and you will secure perfect attention.
+
+
+84
+
+We forget that once upon a time we were little children; but
+the unpleasant fact that we are big children is being
+constantly forced upon us, together with the moral certainty
+that we shall never be anything else.
+
+
+85
+
+A man considers his little weaknesses amiable traits;
+a woman--a woman will not admit that she has a weakness.
+
+
+86
+
+God's call, through the still small voice, to preach, is
+much more irresistible when megaphoned by a wealthy church.
+
+
+87
+
+Many who sing loud praises to God, pay heavy tribute to the
+devil.
+
+
+88
+
+If the world is, as is so often whined, growing worse, it is
+partly because of our presence in it.
+
+
+89
+
+The counsel of a good book is far superior to that of a man
+who says one thing and does another.
+
+
+90
+
+If other people would only be as reasonable as we are, what
+a heaven this earth would be.
+
+
+91
+
+The world has no sympathy for the gambler who loses.
+
+
+92
+
+Trust in God, but keep a sharp lookout on your friends.
+
+
+93
+
+Tell the truth and you will shame the devil; you will also
+surprise him very often.
+
+
+94
+
+The knowledge that virtue is its own reward is what deters
+many from well doing.
+
+
+95
+
+It requires no particular skill to win the game when Fortune
+has dealt you all the trumps.
+
+
+96
+
+We give much more thought to what is due to us than to what
+is due from us.
+
+
+97
+
+A camel may not be able to pass through the eye of a needle,
+but that does not deter many a lobster from trying to do so.
+
+
+98
+
+The man who sees things as they are is regarded as a madman,
+just as those were formerly looked upon who maintained that
+the earth was round. The average man sees things as they
+seem to be.
+
+
+99
+
+We are all convinced of the righteousness and reasonableness
+of majority rule--when we happen to belong to the majority.
+
+
+100
+
+The greater his trouble, the more a man hugs it to his
+heart.
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+           *       *       *       *
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+[Illustrations:
+
+Readers who are unable to use the fully illustrated html
+version of this text may wish to view some individual
+pictures, located within the "images" directory of the
+html file. Complete page images are named in the form
+"pageN.png", using the number of each "Crankism" as
+the page number. Drawings alone--without text and its
+surrounding decoration--are named in the form "picN.png",
+or "picNa.png," "picNb.png" for illustrations that were
+made up of separate elements.]
+
+
+
+
+
+
+

passages/pg20255.txt

@@ -0,0 +1,286 @@
+
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Rich Kuslan
+
+
+
+
+
+THE UNRULY SPRITE
+
+By Henry van Dyke
+
+A Partial Fairy Tale
+
+
+There was once a man who was also a writer of books.
+
+The merit of his books lies beyond the horizon of this tale. No doubt
+some of them were good, and some of them were bad, and some were merely
+popular. But he was all the time trying to make them better, for he
+was quite an honest man, and thankful that the world should give him a
+living for his writing. Moreover, he found great delight in the doing of
+it, which was something that did not enter into the world's account--a
+kind of daily Christmas present in addition to his wages.
+
+But the interesting thing about the man was that he had a clan or train
+of little sprites attending him--small, delicate, aerial creatures,
+who came and went around him at their pleasure, and showed him wonderful
+things, and sang to him, and kept him from being discouraged, and often
+helped him with his work.
+
+If you ask me what they were and where they came from, I must frankly
+tell you that I do not know. Neither did the man know. Neither does
+anybody else know.
+
+But he had sense enough to understand that they were real--just as
+real as any of the other mysterious things, like microbes, and polonium,
+and chemical affinities, and the northern lights, by which we are
+surrounded. Sometimes it seemed as if the sprites were the children of
+the flowers that die in blooming; and sometimes as if they came in a
+flock with the birds from the south; and sometimes as if they rose one
+by one from the roots of the trees in the deep forest, or from the
+waves of the sea when the moon lay upon them; and sometimes as if they
+appeared suddenly in the streets of the city after the people had passed
+by and the houses had gone to sleep. They were as light as thistle-down,
+as unsubstantial as mists upon the mountain, as wayward and flickering
+as will-o'-the-wisps. But there was something immortal about them,
+and the man knew that the world would be nothing to him without their
+presence and comradeship.
+
+Most of these attendant sprites were gentle and docile; but there was
+one who had a strain of wildness in him. In his hand he carried a bow,
+and at his shoulder a quiver of arrows, and he looked as if, some day or
+other, he might be up to mischief.
+
+Now this man was much befriended by a certain lady, to whom he used to
+bring his stories in order that she might tell him whether they were
+good, or bad, or merely popular. But whatever she might think of the
+stories, always she like the man, and of the airy fluttering sprites
+she grew so fond that it almost seemed as if they were her own children.
+This was not unnatural, for they were devoted to her; they turned the
+pages of her book when she read; they made her walks through the forest
+pleasant and friendly; they lit lanterns for her in the dark; they
+brought flowers to her and sang to her, as well as to the man. Of this
+he was glad, because of his great friendship for the lady and his desire
+to see her happy.
+
+But one day she complained to him of the sprite who carried the bow. "He
+is behaving badly," she said; "he teases me."
+
+"That surprises me," said the man, "and I am distressed to hear it; for
+at heart he is rather good and to you he is deeply attached. But how
+does he tease you, dear lady? What does he do?"
+
+"Oh, nothing," she answered, "and that is what annoys me. The others are
+all busy with your affairs or mine. But this idle one follows me like my
+shadow, and looks at me all the time. It is not at all polite. I fear he
+has a vacant mind and has not been well brought up."
+
+"That may easily be," said the man, "for he came to me very suddenly one
+day, and I have never inquired about his education."
+
+"But you ought to do so," said she; "it is your duty to have him taught
+to know his place, and not to tease, and other useful lessons."
+
+"You are always right," said the man, "and it shall be just as you say."
+
+On the way home he talked seriously to the sprite and told him how
+impolite he had been, and arranged a plan for his schooling in botany,
+diplomacy, music, psychology, deportment, and other useful studies.
+
+The rest of the sprites came in to the school-room every day, to get
+some of the profitable lessons. The sat around quiet and orderly, so
+that it was quite like a kindergarten. But the principal pupil was
+restless and troublesome.
+
+"You are never still," said the man, "you have an idle mind and
+wandering thoughts."
+
+"No!" said the sprite, shaking his head. "It is true my mind is not on
+my lessons. But my thoughts do not wander at all. They always follow
+yours."
+
+Then the man stopped talking, and the other sprites laughed behind their
+hands. But the one who had been reproved went on drawing pictures in the
+back of his botany book. The face in the pictures was always the same,
+but none of them seemed to satisfy him, for he always rubbed them out
+and began over again.
+
+After several weeks of hard work the master thought his pupil must have
+learned something, so he gave him a holiday, and asked him what he would
+like to do.
+
+"Go with you," he answered, "when you take her your new stories."
+
+So they went together, and the lady complimented the writer on his
+success as an educator.
+
+"Your pupil does you credit," said she, "he talks nicely about botany
+and deportment. But I am a little troubled to see him looking so pale.
+Perhaps you have been too severe with him. I must take him out in the
+garden with me every day to play a while."
+
+"You have a kind heart," said the man, "and I hope he will appreciate
+it."
+
+This agreeable and amicable life continued for some weeks, and everybody
+was glad that affairs had arranged themselves. But one day the lady
+brought a new complaint.
+
+"He is a strange little creature, and he has begun to annoy me in the
+most extraordinary way."    "That is bad," said the man. "What does he
+do now?"
+
+"Oh, nothing," she answered, "and that is just the trouble. When I want
+to talk about you, he refuses, and says he does not like you as much as
+he used to. When I propose to play a game, he says he is tired and would
+rather sit under a tree and hear stories. When I tell them he says they
+do not suit him, they all end happily, and that is stupid. He is very
+perverse. But he clings to me like a bur. He is always teasing me to
+tell him the name of every flower in my garden and given him one of
+every kind."
+
+"Is he rude about it?"
+
+"Not exactly rude, but he is all the more annoying because he is so
+polite, and I always feel that he wants something different."
+
+"He must not do that," said the man. "He must learn to want what you
+wish."
+
+"But how can he learn what I wish? I do not always know that myself."
+
+"It may be difficult," said the man, "but all the same he must learn it
+for your sake. I will deal with him."
+
+So he took the unruly sprite out into the desert and gave him a
+sound beating with thorn branches. The blood ran down the poor little
+creature's arms and legs, and the teats down the man's cheeks. But the
+only words that he said were: "You must learn to want what she wishes
+--do you hear?--you must want what she wishes." At last the sprite
+whimpered and said: "Yes, I hear; I will wish what she wants." Then the
+man stopped beating him, and went back to his house, and wrote a little
+story that was really good.
+
+But the sprite lay on his face in the desert for a long time, sobbing as
+if his heart would break. Then he fell asleep and laughed in his dreams.
+When he awoke it was night and the moon was shining silver. He rubbed
+his eyes and whispered to himself, "Now I must find out what she wants."
+With that he leaped up, and the moonbeams washed him white as he passed
+through them to the lady's house.
+
+The next afternoon, when the man came to read her the really good story,
+she would not listen.
+
+"No," she said, "I am very angry with you."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"You know well enough."
+
+"Upon my honour, I do not."
+
+"What?" cried the lady. "You profess ignorance, when he distinctly said--
+
+"Pardon," said the man, "but who said?"
+
+"Your unruly sprite," she answered, indignant. "He came last night
+outside my window, which was wide open for the moon, and shot an arrow
+into my breast--a little baby arrow, but it hurt. And when I cried
+out for the pain, he climbed up to me and kissed the place, saying that
+would make it well. And he swore that you made him promise to come. If
+that is true, I will never speak to you again."
+
+"Then of course," said the man, "it is not true. And now what do you
+want me to do with this unruly sprite?"
+
+"Get rid of him," said she firmly.
+
+"I will," replied the man, and he bowed over her hand and went away.
+
+He stayed for a long time--nearly a week--and when he came back he
+brought several sad verses with him to read. "They are very dull," said
+the lady; "what is the matter with you?" He confessed that he did not
+know, and began to talk learnedly about the Greek and Persian poets,
+until the lady was consumed with a fever of dulness.
+
+"You are simply impossible!" she cried. "I wonder at myself for having
+chosen such a friend!"
+
+"I am sorry indeed," said the man.
+
+"For what?"
+
+"For having disappointed you as a friend, and also for having lost my
+dear unruly sprite who kept me from being dull."
+
+"Lost him!" exclaimed the lady. "How?"
+
+"By now," said the man, "he must be quite dead, for I tied him to a tree
+in the forest five days a go and left him to starve."
+
+"You are a brute," said the lady, "and a very stupid man. Come, take
+me to the tree. At least we can bury the poor sprite, and then we shall
+part forever."
+
+So he took her by the hand and guided her through the woods, and they
+talked much of the sadness of parting forever.
+
+When they came to the tree, there was the little sprite, with his wrists
+and ankles bound, lying upon the moss. His eyes were closed, and his
+body was white as a snowdrop. They knelt down, one on each side of him,
+and untied the cord. To their surprise his hands felt warm. "I believe
+he is not quite dead," said the lady. "Shall we try to bring him to
+life?" asked the man. And with that they fell to chafing his wrists
+and his palms. Presently he gave each of them a slight pressure of the
+fingers.
+
+"Did you feel that?" cried she.
+
+"Indeed I did," the man answered. "It shook me to the core. Would you
+like to take him on your lap so that I can chafe his feet?"
+
+The lady nodded and took the soft little body on her knees and held
+it close to her, while the man kneeled before her rubbing the small,
+milk-white feet with strong and tender touches. Presently, as they were
+thus engaged, they heard the sprite faintly whispering, while one of his
+eyelids flickered:
+
+"I think--if each of you--would kiss me--on opposite cheeks--at the
+same moment--those kind of movements would revive me."
+
+The two friends looked at each other, and the man spoke first.
+
+"He talks ungrammatically, and I think he is an incorrigible little
+savage, but I love him. Shall we try his idea?"
+
+"If you love him," said the lady, "I am willing to try, provided you
+shut your eyes."
+
+So they both shut their eyes and tried.
+
+But just at that moment the unruly sprite slipped down, and put his
+hands behind their heads, and the two mouths that sought his cheeks met
+lip to lip in a kiss so warm, so long, so sweet that everything else was
+forgotten.
+
+Now you can easily see that as the persons who had this strange
+experience were the ones who told me the tale, their forgetfulness
+at this point leaves it of necessity half-told. But I know from other
+sources that the man who was also a writer went on making books, and
+the lady always told him truly whether they were good, bad, or merely
+popular. But what the unruly sprite is doing now nobody knows.
+
+FINIS
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+

passages/pg22611.txt

@@ -0,0 +1,460 @@
+
+
+
+E-text prepared by David Edwards, David Garcia, and the Project Gutenberg
+Online Distributed Proofreading Team (https://www.pgdp.net) from digital
+material generously made available by Internet Archive/American Libraries
+(http://www.archive.org/details/americana)
+
+
+
+Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this
+      file which includes the original illustrations.
+      See 22611-h.htm or 22611-h.zip:
+      (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/2/6/1/22611/22611-h/22611-h.htm)
+      or
+      (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/2/6/1/22611/22611-h.zip)
+
+
+      Images of the original pages are available through
+      Internet Archive/American Libraries. See
+      http://www.archive.org/details/foxgeesewonderfu00weiriala
+
+
+
+
+
+THE FOX AND THE GEESE; AND THE WONDERFUL HISTORY OF HENNY-PENNY.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+With Illustrations by Harrison Weir.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+Portland:
+Published by Francis Blake,
+No. 58 Exchange Street.
+
+
+
+
+THE FOX AND THE GEESE.
+
+
+  There was once a Goose at the point of death,
+    So she called her three daughters near,
+  And desired them all, with her latest breath,
+    Her last dying words to hear.
+
+  "There's a Mr. Fox," said she, "that I know,
+    Who lives in a covert hard by;
+  To our race he has proved a deadly foe,
+    So beware of his treachery.
+
+  "Build houses, ere long, of stone or of bricks,
+    And get tiles for your roofs, I pray;
+  For I know, of old, Mr. Reynard's tricks,
+    And I fear he may come any day."
+
+  Thus saying, she died, and her daughters fair,--
+    Gobble, Goosey, and Ganderee,--
+  Agreed together, that they would beware
+    Of Mr. Fox, their enemy.
+
+  But Gobble, the youngest, I grieve to say,
+    Soon came to a very bad end,
+  Because she preferred her own silly way,
+    And would not to her mother attend.
+
+  For she made, with some boards, an open nest,
+    For a roof took the lid of a box;
+  Then quietly laid herself down to rest,
+    And thought she was safe from the Fox.
+
+  But Reynard, in taking an evening run,
+    Soon scented the goose near the pond;
+  Thought he, "Now I'll have some supper and fun,
+    For of both I am really fond."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  Then on to the box he sprang in a trice,
+    And roused Mrs. Gobble from bed;
+  She only had time to hiss once or twice,
+    Ere he snapped off her lily-white head.
+
+  Her sisters at home felt anxious and low
+    When poor Gobble did not appear,
+  And Goosey, determined her fate to know,
+    Went and sought all the field far and near.
+
+  At last she descried poor Gobble's head,
+    And some feathers, not far apart;
+  So she told Ganderee she had found her dead,
+    And they both felt quite sad at heart.
+
+  Now Goosey was pretty, but liked her own way,
+    Like Gobble, and some other birds.
+  "'Tis no matter," said she, "if I only obey
+    A part of my mother's last words."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  So her house she soon built of nice red brick,
+    But she only thatched it with straw;
+  And she thought that, however the Fox might kick,
+    He could not get in e'en a paw.
+
+  So she went to sleep, and at dead of night
+    She heard at the door a low scratch;
+  And presently Reynard, with all his might,
+    Attempted to jump on the thatch.
+
+  But he tumbled back, and against the wall
+    Grazed his nose in a fearful way;
+  Then, almost mad with the pain of his fall,
+    He barked, and ran slowly away.
+
+  So Goosey laughed, and felt quite o'erjoyed
+    To have thus escaped from all harm;
+  But had she known how the Fox was employed,
+    She would have felt dreadful alarm;
+
+  For Gobble had been his last dainty meat,--
+    So hungry he really did feel,--
+  And resolved in his mind to accomplish this feat,
+    And have the young goose for a meal.
+
+  So he slyly lighted a bundle of straws,
+    And made no more noise than a mouse,
+  Then lifted himself up on his hind paws,
+    And quickly set fire to the house.
+
+  'T was soon in a blaze, and Goosey awoke,
+    With fright almost ready to die,
+  And, nearly smothered with heat and with smoke,
+    Up the chimney was forced to fly.
+
+  The Fox was rejoiced to witness her flight,
+    And, heedless of all her sad groans,
+  He chased her until he saw her alight,
+    Then eat her up all but her bones.
+
+  Poor Ganderee's heart was ready to break
+    When the sad news reached her ear.
+  "'T was that villain the Fox," said good Mr. Drake,
+    Who lived in a pond very near.
+
+  "Now listen to me, I pray you," he said,
+    "And roof your new house with some tiles,
+  Or you, like your sisters, will soon be dead,--
+    A prey to your enemy's wiles."
+
+  So she took the advice of her mother and friend,
+    And made her house very secure.
+  Then she said,--"Now, whatever may be my end,
+    The Fox cannot catch me, I'm sure."
+
+  He called at her door the very next day,
+    And loudly and long did he knock;
+  But she said to him,--"Leave my house, I pray,
+    For the door I will not unlock;
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  "For you've killed my sisters, I know full well,
+    And you wish that I too were dead."
+  "O dear!" said the Fox, "I can't really tell
+    Who put such a thought in your head:
+
+  "For I've always liked geese more than other birds,
+    And you of your race I've loved best."
+  But the Goose ne'er heeded his flattering words,
+    So hungry he went to his rest.
+
+  Next week she beheld him again appear;
+    "Let me in very quick," he cried,
+  "For the news I've to tell you'll be charmed to hear,
+    And 'tis rude to keep me outside."
+
+  But the Goose only opened one window-pane,
+    And popped out her pretty red bill;
+  Said she, "Your fair words are all in vain,
+    But talk to me here, if you will."
+
+  "To-morrow," he cried, "there will be a fair,
+    All the birds and the beasts will go;
+  So allow me, I pray, to escort you there,
+    For you will be quite charmed, I know."
+
+  "Many thanks for your news," said Ganderee,
+    "But I had rather not go with you;
+  I care not for any gay sight to see,"--
+    So the window she closed, and withdrew.
+
+  In the morning, howe'er, her mind she changed,
+    And she thought she would go to the fair;
+  So her numerous feathers she nicely arranged,
+    And cleaned her red bill with much care.
+
+  She went, I believe, before it was light,
+    For of Reynard she felt much fear;
+  So quickly she thought she would see each sight,
+    And return ere he should appear.
+
+  When the Goose arrived she began to laugh
+    At the wondrous creatures she saw;
+  There were dancing bears, and a tall giraffe,
+    And a beautiful red macaw.
+
+  A monkey was weighing out apples and roots;
+    An ostrich, too, sold by retail;
+  There were bees and butterflies tasting the fruits,
+    And a pig drinking out of a pail.
+
+  Ganderee went into an elephant's shop,
+    And quickly she bought a new churn;
+  For, as it grew late, she feared to stop,
+    As in safety she wished to return.
+
+  Ere, however, she got about half the way,
+    She saw approaching her foe;
+  And now she hissed with fear and dismay,
+    For she knew not which way to go.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  But at last of a capital plan she bethought,
+    Of a place where she safely might hide;
+  She got into the churn that she just had bought,
+    And then fastened the lid inside.
+
+  The churn was placed on the brow of a hill,
+    And with Ganderee's weight down it rolled,
+  Passing the Fox, who stood perfectly still,
+    Quite alarmed, though he was very bold.
+
+  For the Goose's wings flapped strangely about,
+    And the noise was fearful to hear;
+  And so bruised she felt she was glad to get out,
+    When she thought that the coast was clear.
+
+  So safely she reached her own home at noon,
+    And the Fox ne'er saw her that day
+  But after the fair he came very soon,
+    And cried out, in a terrible way,--
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  "Quick, quick, let me in! oh, for once be kind,
+    For the huntsman's horn I hear;
+  O, hide me in any snug place you can find,
+    For the hunters and hounds draw near!"
+
+  So the Goose looked out, in order to see
+    Whether Reynard was only in jest;
+  Then, knowing that he in her power would be,
+    She opened the door to her guest.
+
+  "I'll hide you," she said, "in my nice new churn."
+    "That will do very well," said he;
+  "And thank you for doing me this good turn,
+    Most friendly and kind Ganderee."
+
+  Then into the churn the Fox quickly got;
+    But, ere the Goose put on the top,
+  A kettle she brought of water quite hot,
+    And poured in every drop.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+  Then the Fox cried out, "O! I burn, I burn!
+    And I feel in a pitiful plight;"
+  But the Goose held fast the lid of the churn,
+    So Reynard he died that night.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+MORAL.
+
+
+  Mankind have an enemy whom they well know,
+    Who tempts them in every way;
+  But they, too, at length shall o'ercome this foe,
+    If wisdom's right law they obey.
+
+
+
+
+THE WONDERFUL HISTORY OF HENNY-PENNY.
+
+
+One fine summer morning a Hen was picking peas in a farm-yard, under
+a pea-stack, when a pea fell on her head with such a thump that she
+thought a cloud had fallen. And she thought she would go to the court
+and tell the king that the clouds were falling: so she gaed, and she
+gaed, and she gaed, and she met a Cock, and the Cock said,--
+
+"Where are you going to-day, Henny-penny?"
+
+And she said,--
+
+"Oh, Cocky-locky, the clouds are falling, and I am going to tell the
+king."
+
+And Cocky-locky said,--
+
+"I will go with you, Henny-penny."
+
+So Cocky-locky and Henny-penny they gaed, and they gaed, and they gaed,
+till they met a Duck. So the Duck said,--
+
+"Where are you going to-day, Cocky-locky and Henny-penny?"
+
+And they said,--
+
+"Oh, Ducky-daddles, the clouds are falling, and we are going to tell
+the king."
+
+And Ducky-daddles said,--
+
+"I will go with you, Cocky-locky and Henny-penny."
+
+So Ducky-daddles, and Cocky-locky, and Henny-penny, they gaed, and they
+gaed, and they gaed, till they met a Goose. So the Goose said,--
+
+"Where are you going to-day, Ducky-daddles, Cocky-locky and
+Henny-penny?"
+
+And they said,--
+
+"Oh, Goosie-poosie, the clouds are falling, and we are going to tell
+the king."
+
+And Goosie-poosie said,--
+
+"I will go with you, Ducky-daddles, Cocky-locky, and Henny-penny."
+
+So Goosie-poosie, and Ducky-daddles, and Cocky-locky, and Henny-penny,
+they gaed, and they gaed, and they gaed, till they met a Turkey. So the
+Turkey said,--
+
+"Where are you going to-day, Goosie-poosie, Ducky-daddles, Cocky-locky,
+and Henny-penny?"
+
+And they said,--
+
+"Oh, Turkey-lurky, the clouds are falling, and we are going to tell
+the king."
+
+And Turkey-lurky said,--
+
+"I will go with you, Goosie-poosie, Ducky-daddles, Cocky-locky, and
+Henny-penny."
+
+So Turkey-lurky, and Goosie-poosie, and Ducky-daddles, and Cocky-locky,
+and Henny-penny, they gaed, and they gaed, and they gaed, till they met
+a Fox. So the Fox said,--
+
+[Illustration]
+
+"Where are you going to-day, Turkey-lurky, Goosie-poosie, Ducky-daddles,
+Cocky-locky, and Henny-penny?"
+
+And they said,--
+
+"Oh, Mr. Fox, the clouds are falling, and we are going to tell
+the king."
+
+And the Fox said,--
+
+"Come with me, Turkey-lurky, Goosie-poosie, Ducky-daddles, Cocky-locky,
+and Henny-penny, and I will show you the road to the king's house."
+
+So they all gaed, and they gaed, and they gaed, till they came to the
+Fox's hole; and the Fox took them all into his hole, and he and his
+young cubs eat up first poor Henny-penny, then poor Cocky-locky, then
+poor Ducky-daddles, then poor Goosie-poosie, and then poor Turkey-lurky;
+and so they never got to the king to tell him that the clouds had fallen
+on the head of poor Henny-penny.
+
+
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+BOOKS
+PUBLISHED BY
+FRANCIS BLAKE,
+(LATE "BLAKE & CARTER.")
+No. 58 EXCHANGE STREET, PORTLAND, ME.
+
+
+  Town's First Reader,
+  Town's Second Reader,
+  Town's Third Reader,
+  Town's Grammar School Reader,
+  Town's Fourth Reader,
+  Town's Speller and Definer,
+  Town's Analysis,
+  Weld's Old Grammar,
+  Weld's New Grammar,
+  Weld's Parsing Books,
+  Weld's Latin Lessons,
+  Smyth's Elementary Algebra,
+  Smyth's Elements of Algebra,
+  Key to each of Smyth's Algebras,
+  Smyth's Trigonometry & Survey'g,
+  Smyth's Calculus,
+  Maine Justice of the Peace,
+  Maine Townsman,
+  Caldwell's Elocution,
+  School Testaments, 18mo.
+  School Testaments, 32mo.
+  Mechanic's Own Book.
+
+And many other School and Miscellaneous Books.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+ALSO
+
+  THE FOX AND THE GEESE,        9 Illustrations, price 8 cts.
+  THE STORY OF THE THREE BEARS, 6 Illustrations, price 6 cts.
+  THE CAT AND THE MOUSE,        6 Illustrations, price 6 cts.
+
+The above in colored engravings at double price.
+
+F. B. also manufactures BLANK BOOKS of every description paged and
+unpaged, Memorandum Books, Quarto Blanks, &c., &c.
+
+PAPER HANGINGS,
+
+WHOLESALE & RETAIL.
+
+A large assortment of Miscellaneous Books, suitable for towns or
+private libraries.
+
+Agents, Canvassers and Booksellers supplied at a liberal discount
+from retail prices.
+
+All orders will receive prompt attention.
+
+  FRANCIS BLAKE,
+  NO. 58 EXCHANGE STREET,
+  PORTLAND, ME.
+  NEXT DOOR TO BANK OF CUMBERLAND
+
+
+
+
+

passages/pg23311.txt

@@ -0,0 +1,304 @@
+
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Jacqueline Jeremy, Janet Blenkinship and the
+Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+(This file was produced from images generously made
+available by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+Beauty and the Beast.
+
+Peter G. Thomson Cincinnati, O.
+
+
+
+
+BEAUTY AND THE BEAST.
+
+
+There was once a merchant who had been very rich at one time, but who,
+having had heavy losses, was compelled to retire to a little cottage in
+the country; where he lived with his three daughters. The two elder ones
+were very much discontented at their poverty, and were always grumbling
+and making complaints. But the youngest one, who was called Beauty, and
+who was as amiable as she was handsome, tried all she could to comfort
+her father and make his home happy.
+
+Once, when he was going on a journey to try and mend his affairs, he
+called them around him, and asked them what he should bring them when he
+returned. The two elder ones wanted each a number of nice presents; but
+Beauty, kissing him sweetly, said she would be content with a rose. So
+when the merchant was on his way back, he came to an elegant garden, of
+which the gate stood open; and thinking of Beauty's rose, he went in,
+and plucking a beautiful one, prepared to proceed on his journey.
+
+[Illustration: The Merchant and the Beast.]
+
+As he turned to go, he saw a hideous Beast coming towards him, armed
+with a sword! This terrible creature reproached him for stealing his
+flowers, of which he was very choice; and threatened to kill him on the
+spot! The merchant begged for his life, and said, that he had only taken
+"a single one to please his daughter Beauty." On this, the beast said
+gruffly, "well, I will let you off, if you will bring one of your
+daughters here in your place. But she must come here _willingly_, and
+meanwhile you may stay and rest in my palace until to-morrow." But, as
+you may well believe, the poor father did not feel much like eating or
+sleeping; although everything was done for his comfort, and, in the
+morning, the Beast sent him home upon a beautiful horse. But though the
+birds sang around him, and the sun shone brightly, and all nature was
+smiling on his path, the heart of the poor merchant was heavy, when he
+thought of his beloved daughters.
+
+When he came near his home, his children came forth to meet him; but,
+seeing the sadness of his face, and his eyes filled with tears, they
+asked him the cause of his trouble. Giving the rose to Beauty, he told
+her all. The two elder sisters laid all the blame upon Beauty; who cried
+bitterly, and said that as _she_ was the cause of her father's
+misfortune, she alone must suffer for it, and was quite willing to go.
+So Beauty got ready for the journey at once. The father (who meant to
+return to the Beast _himself_, after embracing his children) tried to
+dissuade her, but in vain; and so the two set out together for the
+Beast's palace, much to the secret joy of the envious sisters.
+
+When they arrived at the palace, the doors opened of themselves, sweet
+music was heard, and they found an elegant supper prepared. As soon as
+they had refreshed themselves, the Beast entered, and said in a mild
+tone, "Beauty, did you come here willingly to take the place of your
+father?" "Yes, sir," she answered in a sweet but trembling voice. "So
+much the better for you," replied the Beast. "Your father can stay here
+to-night, but he must go home in the morning." The Beast then retired,
+giving Beauty so kind a look as he went out, that she felt quite
+encouraged. The next morning, when her father left her, she cheered his
+heart by telling him that she thought she could soften the Beast's
+heart, and induce him to spare her life. After he was gone, she entered
+an elegant room, on the door of which was written, in letters of gold,
+"Beauty's room."
+
+Lying on the table was a portrait of herself, set in gold and diamonds,
+and on the wall, these words: "_Beauty is Queen here; all things will
+obey her._" Her meals were served to the sound of music; and at
+supper-time, the Beast after knocking timidly, would walk in and talk so
+amiably, that she soon lost all fear of him; and once when he failed to
+come, felt quite disappointed! At last, one night, he said to her, "Am I
+so _very_ ugly?" "Yes, indeed, you are," said Beauty, "but you are so
+kind and generous, that I do not mind your looks." "Will you marry me,
+then, dear Beauty?" said the poor Beast, with a look of such eager
+entreaty in his eyes, that Beauty's heart melted within her, and she was
+upon the point of saying "Yes!"
+
+[Illustration: Beauty takes her Fathers place.]
+
+But happening to look towards him, at that moment her courage failed
+her, and, turning away her head, she replied softly, "Oh! do not ask
+me." The Beast then bade her good-night, with a sad voice, and went away
+sighing as if his heart would break. The palace was full of rooms,
+containing the most beautiful objects. In one room she saw a numerous
+troupe of monkeys, of all sizes and colors. They came to meet her,
+making her very low bows, and treating her with the greatest respect.
+Beauty was much pleased with them, and asked them to show her about the
+palace. Instantly, two tall and graceful apes, in rich dresses, placed
+themselves, with great gravity, one on each side of her, while two
+sprightly little monkeys held up her train as pages. And from this time
+forth they waited upon her wherever she went, with all the attention and
+respect, that officers of a royal palace are accustomed to pay to the
+greatest Queens and Princesses.
+
+[Illustration: Am I so very ugly.]
+
+In fact, Beauty was the Queen of this splendid palace. She had only to
+wish for anything to have it; and she would have been _quite_ contented
+if she could have had some company; for, except at supper-time, she was
+always alone! Then the Beast would come in and behave so agreeably, that
+she liked him more and more. And when he would say to her "dear Beauty
+will you marry me?" in his soft and tender way, she could hardly find it
+in her heart to refuse him.
+
+Now, although Beauty had everything that heart could wish, she could not
+forget her father and sisters. At last, one evening she begged so hard
+to go home for a visit, that the Beast consented to her wish, on her
+promising not to stay more than two months. He then gave her a ring,
+telling her to place it on her dressing-table, when she wished either to
+go or return; and showed her a wardrobe filled with the most elegant
+clothes, as well as a quantity of splendid presents for her father and
+sisters.
+
+The poor Beast was more sad than ever, after he had given his consent to
+her absence. It seemed to him as if he could not look at her enough, nor
+muster courage to leave her. She tried to cheer him, saying, "Be of good
+heart, Beauty will soon return," but nothing seemed to comfort him, and
+he went sadly away.
+
+Beauty felt very badly when she saw how much the poor Beast suffered.
+She tried, however, to dismiss him from her thoughts, and to think only
+of the joy of seeing her dear father and sisters on the morrow. Before
+retiring to rest, she took good care to place the ring upon the table,
+and great was her joy, on awaking the next morning, to find herself in
+her father's house, with the clothes and gifts from the palace at her
+bed-side!
+
+At first she hardly knew where she was, for everything looked strange
+to her; but soon she heard the voice of her father, and, rushing out of
+the room, threw her loving arms around his neck. Beauty then related all
+the kindness and delicacy of the Beast toward her, and in return
+discovered that _he_ had been as liberal to her father and sisters. He
+had given them the large and handsome house in which they now lived,
+with an income sufficient to keep them in comfort.
+
+For a long time Beauty was happy with her father and sisters; but she
+soon discovered that her sisters were jealous of her, and envied her the
+fine dresses and jewels the Beast had given her. She often thought
+tenderly of the poor Beast, alone in his palace; and as the two months
+were now over, she resolved to return to him as she had promised. But
+her father could not bear to lose her again, and coaxed her to stay with
+him a few days longer; which she at last consented to do, with many
+misgivings, when she thought of her broken promise to the lonely beast.
+At last, on the night before she intended to return, she dreamed that
+she saw the unhappy beast lying dead on the ground in the palace garden!
+She awoke, all trembling with terror and remorse, and, leaving a note on
+the table for her dear father; placed the ring within her bosom, and
+wished herself back again in the palace. As soon as daylight appeared,
+she called her attendants, and searched the palace from top to bottom.
+But the Beast was nowhere to be found! She then ran to the garden, and
+_there_, in the very spot that she had seen in her dream, lay the poor
+Beast, gasping and senseless upon the ground; and seeming to be in the
+agonies of death! At this pitiful sight, Beauty clasped her hands, fell
+upon her knees, and reproached herself bitterly for having caused his
+death.
+
+"Alas! poor Beast!" she said, "_I_ am the cause of this. How can I ever
+forgive myself for my unkindness to _you_, who were so good and
+generous to me, and mine, and never even reproached me for my cruelty?"
+
+[Illustration: The Beast Dying.]
+
+She then ran to a fountain for cold water, which she sprinkled over him,
+her tears meanwhile falling fast upon his hideous face. In a few moments
+the Beast opened his eyes, and said, "now, that I see _you_ once more, I
+shall die contented." "No, no,!" she cried, "you shall not die; you
+shall live, and Beauty will be your faithful wife!" The moment she
+uttered these words, a dazzling light shone around--the palace was
+brilliantly lighted up, and the air was filled with delicious music.
+
+In place of the terrible and dying Beast, she saw a young and handsome
+Prince, who knelt at her feet, and told her that he had been condemned
+to wear the form of a frightful Beast, until a beautiful girl should
+love him in spite of his ugliness! At the same moment, the Apes, and the
+Monkeys, who had been in attendance upon her, were transformed into
+elegantly dressed ladies and gentlemen, who ranged themselves at a
+respectful distance, and performed their duties, as Gentlemen, and Maids
+of Honor. The grateful Prince now claimed Beauty for his wife; and _she_
+who had loved him, even under the form of the Beast, was now tenfold
+more in love with him, as he appeared in his rightful form. So the very
+next day, Beauty and the Prince were married with great splendor, and
+lived happily together for ever after.
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+NEW PICTURE BOOKS.
+
+
+PATIENCE, or the Poet and the Milkmaid.
+
+_With 10 Colored Illustrations, by H. F. Farny. Founded on Gilbert &
+Sullivan's Comic Opera, "Patience, or Bunthorne's Bride," adapted for
+Children. PRICE, 25 CENTS._
+
+AT HOME. After Sowerby and Crane.
+
+_With 30 Full-page Illustrations in black, exact imitations of the
+originals, with Cover and Frontispiece in color. PRICE, 15 CENTS._
+
+SUGAR AND SPICE, and Everything Nice.
+
+_With 30 Full-page Illustrations, in black. Cover and Frontispiece in
+colors, and Verses adapted to the Illustrations. PRICE, 15 CENTS._
+
+PICTURES TO PAINT.
+
+_Consisting of 30 pages of Outline Illustrations, adapted for Coloring,
+with Rhymes. PRICE, 15 CENTS._
+
+UNDER THE WINDOW. Painting Book.
+
+_Consisting of 30 pages of Outline Drawings, selected from the various
+works of Kate Greenaway, adapted for Coloring. PRICE, 15 CENTS._
+
+BIG PICTURE BOOK SERIES.
+
+_Twelve kinds, large 4to., each consisting of Six Full-page
+Illustrations, in colors, with Titles in gold and colors, as follows:--_
+
+  =Cinderella.=
+  =Puss in Boots.=
+  =Red Riding Hood.=
+  =The Happy Family.=
+  =Jack and the Bean Stalk.=
+  =Jack the Giant Killer.=
+  =Drill of the A. B. C. Army.=
+  =Night before Christmas.=
+  =Sinbad the Sailor.=
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+  =Humpty Dumpty.=
+
+CHIMNEY CORNER SERIES. 25 Cts. Each.
+
+_Three kinds, large 4to., each consisting of eight Full-page
+Illustrations, in colors. The largest and handsomest books of the kind
+yet published._
+
+  =Mother Goose's Melodies.=
+  =Clever Cats.=
+  =Robinson Crusoe.=
+
+AUNT LAURA'S SERIES. 10 Cts. Each.
+
+_Six kinds, large 8vo., each containing six Full-page Colored
+Illustrations, viz:_
+
+  =Mamma's A. B. C. Book.=
+  =Rip Van Winkle.=
+  =Cock Robin.=
+  =Our Four Footed Friends.=
+  =Nursery Rhymes.=
+  =Mother Hubbard.=
+
+MARY BELL'S SERIES. 5 Cts. Each.
+
+Eight kinds, small 4to., each containing four Full-page colored
+Illustrations. The largest and best books for the price yet published,
+viz:
+
+  =Hop O' My Thumb.=
+  =Children in the Wood.=
+  =Red Riding Hood.=
+  =Tom Thumb.=
+  =Little Playmates.=
+  =Goody Two Shoes.=
+  =Beauty and the Beast.=
+  =Little Tommy's Sled Ride.=
+
+PETER G. THOMSON,
+
+PUBLISHER, CINCINNATI, O.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+

passages/pg23361.txt

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+
+
+
+
+
+Produced by David Widger
+
+
+
+
+
+
+PÈRE ANTOINE’S DATE-PALM.
+
+By Thomas Bailey Aldrich
+
+Boston And New York Houghton Mifflin Company
+
+Copyright, 1873, 1885, and 1901
+
+
+Near the Levée, and not far from the old French Cathedral in the Place
+d’Armes, at New Orleans, stands a fine date-palm, thirty feet in height,
+spreading its broad leaves in the alien air as hardily as if its sinuous
+roots were sucking strength from their native earth.
+
+Sir Charles Lyell, in his Second Visit to the United States, mentions
+this exotic: “The tree is seventy or eighty years old; for Père Antoine,
+a Roman Catholic priest, who died about twenty years ago, told Mr.
+Bringier that he planted it himself, when he was young. In his will he
+provided that they who succeeded to this lot of ground should forfeit it
+if they cut down the palm.”
+
+Wishing to learn something of Père Antoine’s history, Sir Charles Lyell
+made inquiries among the ancient créole inhabitants of the faubourg.
+That the old priest, in his last days, became very much emaciated, that
+he walked about the streets like a mummy, that he gradually dried up,
+and finally blew away, was the meagre and unsatisfactory result of the
+tourist’s investigations. This is all that is generally told of Père
+Antoine. In the summer of 1861, while New Orleans was yet occupied by
+the Confederate forces, I met at Alexandria, in Virginia, a lady from
+Louisiana--Miss Blondeau by name--who gave me the substance of the
+following legend touching Père Antoine and his wonderful date-palm. If
+it should appear tame to the reader, it will be because I am not habited
+in a black ribbed-silk dress, with a strip of point-lace around my
+throat, like Miss Blondeau; it will be because I lack her eyes and lips
+and Southern music to tell it with.
+
+When Père Antoine was a very young man, he had a friend whom he loved
+as he loved his life. Emile Jardin returned his passion, and the two,
+on account of their friendship, became the marvel of the city where they
+dwelt. One was never seen without the other; for they studied, walked,
+ate, and slept together.
+
+Thus began Miss Blondeau, with the air of Fiammetta telling her
+prettiest story to the Florentines in the garden of Boccaccio.
+
+Antoine and Emile were preparing to enter the Church; indeed, they had
+taken the preliminary steps, when a circumstance occurred which changed
+the color of their lives. A foreign lady, from some nameless island in
+the Pacific, had a few months before moved into their neighborhood. The
+lady died suddenly, leaving a girl of sixteen or seventeen, entirely
+friendless and unprovided for. The young men had been kind to the woman
+during her illness, and at her death--melting with pity at the forlorn
+situation of Anglice, the daughter--swore between themselves to love and
+watch over her as if she were their sister.
+
+Now Anglice had a wild, strange beauty that made other women seem tame
+beside her; and in the course of time the young men found themselves
+regarding their ward not so much like brothers as at first. In brief,
+they found themselves in love with her.
+
+They struggled with their hopeless passion month after month, neither
+betraying his secret to the other; for the austere orders which they
+were about to assume precluded the idea of love and marriage. Until then
+they had dwelt in the calm air of religious meditations, unmoved
+except by that pious fervor which in other ages taught men to brave the
+tortures of the rack and to smile amid the flames. But a blonde girl,
+with great eyes and a voice like the soft notes of a vesper hymn, had
+come in between them and their ascetic dreams of heaven. The ties that
+had bound the young men together snapped silently one by one. At last
+each read in the pale face of the other the story of his own despair.
+
+And she? If Anglice shared their trouble, her face told no story. It was
+like the face of a saint on a cathedral window. Once, however, as she
+came suddenly upon the two men and overheard words that seemed to burn
+like fire on the lip of the speaker, her eyes grew luminous for an
+instant. Then she passed on, her face as immobile as before in its
+setting of wavy gold hair.
+
+     “Entre or et roux Dieu fit ses longs cheveux.”
+
+One night Emile and Anglice were missing. They had flown--but whither,
+nobody knew, and nobody, save Antoine, cared. It was a heavy blow to
+Antoine--for he had himself half resolved to confess his love to Anglice
+and urge her to fly with him.
+
+A strip of paper slipped from a volume on Antoine’s prie-dieu, and
+fluttered to his feet.
+
+“_Do not be angry,_” said the bit of paper, piteously; “_forgive us, for
+we love_.” (Par-donnez-nous, car nous aimons.)
+
+Three years went by wearily enough. Antoine had entered the Church, and
+was already looked upon as a rising man; but his face was pale and his
+heart leaden, for there was no sweetness in life for him.
+
+Four years had elapsed, when a letter, covered with outlandish
+postmarks, was brought to the young priest--a letter from Anglice. She
+was dying;--would he forgive her? Emile, the year previous, had fallen a
+victim to the fever that raged on the island; and their child, Anglice,
+was likely to follow him. In pitiful terms she begged Antoine to take
+charge of the child until she was old enough to enter the convent of the
+Sacré-Cour. The epistle was finished hastily by another hand, informing
+Antoine of Madame Jardin’s death; it also told him that Anglice had been
+placed on board a vessel shortly to leave the island for some Western
+port.
+
+The letter, delayed by storm and shipwreck, was hardly read and wept
+over when little Anglice arrived.
+
+On beholding her, Antoine uttered a cry of joy and surprise--she was so
+like the woman he had worshipped.
+
+The passion that had been crowded down in his heart broke out and
+lavished its rich-ness on this child, who was to him not only the
+Anglice of years ago, but his friend Emile Jardin also.
+
+Anglice possessed the wild, strange beauty of her mother--the bending,
+willowy form, the rich tint of skin, the large tropical eyes, that had
+almost made Antoine’s sacred robes a mockery to him.
+
+For a month or two Anglice was wildly unhappy in her new home. She
+talked continually of the bright country where she was born, the fruits
+and flowers and blue skies, the tall, fan-like trees, and the streams
+that went murmuring through them to the sea. Antoine could not pacify
+her.
+
+By and by she ceased to weep, and went about the cottage in a weary,
+disconsolate way that cut Antoine to the heart. A long-tailed paroquet,
+which she had brought with her in the ship, walked solemnly behind her
+from room to room, mutely pining, it seemed, for those heavy orient airs
+that used to ruffle its brilliant plumage.
+
+Before the year ended, he noticed that the ruddy tinge had faded from
+her cheek, that her eyes had grown languid, and her slight figure more
+willowy than ever.
+
+A physician was consulted. He could discover nothing wrong with the
+child, except this fading and drooping. He failed to account for that.
+It was some vague disease of the mind, he said, beyond his skill.
+
+So Anglice faded day after day. She seldom left the room now. At last
+Antoine could not shut out the fact that the child was passing away. He
+had learned to love her so!
+
+“Dear heart,” he said once, “what is’t ails thee?”
+
+“Nothing, mon père,” for so she called him.
+
+The winter passed, the balmy spring had come with its magnolia blooms
+and orange blossoms, and Anglice seemed to revive. In her small bamboo
+chair, on the porch, she swayed to and fro in the fragrant breeze, with
+a peculiar undulating motion, like a graceful tree.
+
+At times something seemed to weigh upon her mind. Antoine observed it,
+and waited. Finally she spoke.
+
+“Near our house,” said little Anglice--“near our house, on the island,
+the palm-trees are waving under the blue sky. Oh, how beautiful! I seem
+to lie beneath them all day long. I am very, very happy. I yearned for
+them so much that I grew ill--don’t you think it was so, mon père?”
+
+“Hélas, yes!” exclaimed Antoine, suddenly. “Let us hasten to those
+pleasant islands where the palms are waving.”
+
+Anglice smiled.
+
+“I am going there, mon père.”
+
+A week from that evening the wax candles burned at her feet and
+forehead, lighting her on the journey.
+
+All was over. Now was Antoine’s heart empty. Death, like another Emile,
+had stolen his new Anglice. He had nothing to do but to lay the blighted
+flower away.
+
+Père Antoine made a shallow grave in his garden, and heaped the fresh
+brown mould over his idol.
+
+In the tranquil spring evenings, the priest was seen sitting by the
+mound, his finger closed in the unread breviary.
+
+The summer broke on that sunny land; and in the cool morning twilight,
+and after nightfall, Antoine lingered by the grave. He could never be
+with it enough.
+
+One morning he observed a delicate stem, with two curiously shaped
+emerald leaves, springing up from the centre of the mound. At first he
+merely noticed it casually; but presently the plant grew so tall,
+and was so strangely unlike anything he had ever seen before, that he
+examined it with care.
+
+How straight and graceful and exquisite it was! When it swung to and fro
+with the summer wind, in the twilight, it seemed to Antoine as if little
+Anglice were standing there in the garden.
+
+The days stole by, and Antoine tended the fragile shoot, wondering what
+manner of blossom it would unfold, white, or scarlet, or golden. One
+Sunday, a stranger, with a bronzed, weather-beaten face like a sailor’s,
+leaned over the garden rail, and said to him,
+
+“What a fine young date-palm you have there, sir!”
+
+“Mon Dieu!” cried Père Antoine starting, “and is it a palm?”
+
+“Yes, indeed,” returned the man. “I did n’t reckon the tree would
+flourish in this latitude.”
+
+“Ah, mon Dieu!” was all the priest could say aloud; but he murmured to
+himself, “Bon Dieu, vous m’avez donné cela!”
+
+If Père Antoine loved the tree before, he worshipped it now. He watered
+it, and nurtured it, and could have clasped it in his arms. Here were
+Emile and Anglice and the child, all in one!
+
+The years glided away, and the date-palm and the priest grew
+together--only one became vigorous and the other feeble. Père Antoine
+had long passed the meridian of life. The tree was in its youth. It no
+longer stood in an isolated garden; for pretentious brick and stucco
+houses had clustered about Antoine’s cottage. They looked down scowling
+on the humble thatched roof. The city was edging up, trying to crowd him
+off his land. But he clung to it like lichen and refused to sell.
+
+Speculators piled gold on his doorsteps, and he laughed at them.
+Sometimes he was hungry, and cold, and thinly clad; but he laughed none
+the less.
+
+“Get thee behind me, Satan!” said the old priest’s smile.
+
+Père Antoine was very old now, scarcely able to walk; but he could sit
+under the pliant, caressing leaves of his palm, loving it like an Arab;
+and there he sat till the grimmest of speculators came to him. But even
+in death Père Antoine was faithful to his trust.
+
+The owner of that land loses it if he harm the date-tree.
+
+And there it stands in the narrow, dingy street, a beautiful, dreamy
+stranger, an exquisite foreign lady whose grace is a joy to the eye, the
+incense of whose breath makes the air enamored. May the hand wither that
+touches her ungently!
+
+“_Because it grew from the heart of little Anglice_,” said Miss Blondeau
+tenderly.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg’s Père Antoine’s Date-Palm, by Thomas Bailey Aldrich
+
+
+

passages/pg23465.txt

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+
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Jacqueline Jeremy, Janet Blenkinship, and the
+Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+(This file was produced from images generously made
+available by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+THE STORY OF THE THREE GOBLINS
+
+BY
+
+MABEL G. TAGGART
+
+LONDON: GRANT RICHARDS 1903
+
+
+
+
+THE STORY OF THE THREE GOBLINS.
+
+
+Once upon a time there were three little goblins.
+
+Their names were Red-Cap, Blue-Cap and Yellow-Cap, and they lived in a
+mountain.
+
+The goblins had a great friend--a green frog whose name was Rowley.
+
+Rowley came every year to see the little goblins, and told them stories
+about the Big World where he lived.
+
+The goblins had never seen the Big World, and often asked their father
+to let them go with Rowley, but he always said, "Not yet, my sons."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+The name of the goblins' father was Old Black-Cap.
+
+He was King of the Mountain.
+
+At last, one day Old Black-Cap called the three goblins and said to
+them: "I am going to send you into the Big World to look for something
+which the fairies stole from me a long time ago. A Red Feather which
+always belongs to the King of the Mountain. Go, my sons, and the one who
+finds it shall be king of this mountain after me."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Red-Cap, Blue-Cap and Yellow-Cap said good-bye to their father and
+climbed out into the Big World through a rabbit hole. When they had gone
+a little way they saw something lying on the ground. Something large and
+white and round.
+
+"What is that?" they all cried together.
+
+Red-Cap, who was the eldest, got inside it to see what it was made of.
+
+"Oh! oh!" cried Blue-Cap and Yellow-Cap. "It is moving! Stop! Stop!" But
+the white thing rolled away down the mountain with poor little Red-Cap
+inside it; faster and faster it went, and Blue-Cap and Yellow-Cap were
+left quite behind.
+
+Now little Red-Cap was a brave goblin, but he was rather frightened when
+the White Thing began to roll so fast. He wondered if it would ever
+stop, when--Bump! Splash!--he found he was in the water, and something
+big with a smooth coat was close beside him. It was a kind water-rat who
+had seen the poor little goblin roll into the water.
+
+"I can swim," said Mr. Rat. "I will hold you by the collar and take you
+to dry land again."
+
+[Illustration]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Red-Cap thanked the kind water-rat very much, and they sat down on the
+bank of the stream to rest. Red-Cap told the rat all about his father
+and brothers and the Red Feather, and soon Blue-Cap and Yellow-Cap came
+running up, quite out of breath, but very glad to find their brother
+quite safe and not even scratched.
+
+They all soon said good-bye to the rat, who wished them good luck,
+showed them the road and told them to look in a tree--which he pointed
+out--where he said they would find something which would help them very
+much.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+The goblins raced to the tree. Yellow-Cap won the race and climbed up
+quickly, while the others ran all round looking to see what they could
+find.
+
+They found nothing, and Yellow-Cap was just coming down again when he
+spied a bird's-nest with three dear little blue eggs in it. He crawled
+along the branch to look at the eggs, and saw something white under the
+nest. Yellow-Cap pulled it gently, and out came an envelope. Full of joy
+he slipped down to his brothers.
+
+They opened the envelope and found a sheet of paper on which was written
+in gold letters,--
+
+  "You who seek the Feather Red
+  First the Serpent's blood must shed;
+  In the cave where fairies dwell
+  The Feather lies, so search it well."
+
+"Hurrah!" cried Red-Cap. "Let us make haste and find the cave."
+
+Soon they came to a big dark forest, and after they had gone a little
+way they saw a fence and a large board on which was written in red
+letters,--
+
+  TOM TIDDLER'S
+  GROUND
+
+  TRESPASSERS
+  WILL BE
+  PROSECUTED.
+
+The goblins looked over the fence and saw that the ground was covered
+with gold and silver!
+
+"Oh!" they cried, "let us fill our pockets. What fun!" and they began to
+climb over the fence.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+They all got safely down on the other side, and seeing no one about they
+began to fill their pockets with the shining money, singing, "We are on
+Tom Tiddler's ground, picking up gold and silver."
+
+Suddenly they heard a big rough voice say, "Yes, you are on Tom
+Tiddler's ground, and Tom Tiddler will lock you all up, you little
+thieves."
+
+The goblins dropped their handfuls of gold and silver, and found
+themselves caught up by a great big giant who carried them off, with
+great long strides, to his house.
+
+Tom Tiddler took them into a large kitchen where Mrs. Tiddler was busy
+making the tea.
+
+"Wife," said he, "put these goblins in the pantry, and we will have them
+fried on toast for breakfast."
+
+The poor little brothers were locked up in the pantry, and they sat down
+on the floor holding each others hands very tight and shaking with fear.
+
+At last they grew bolder, and began to think how they could get away.
+They tried to open the window, and found to their joy that Tom Tiddler
+had forgotten to lock it. They crept out very quietly and climbed down
+by the thick ivy which grew up the wall.
+
+The goblins ran as fast as they could, only stopping to fill a sack
+which they had found with gold and silver. They knew that Tom Tiddler
+and his wife were at tea, and would not think of coming out for some
+time.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+The brothers managed, after a great deal of hard work, to get the sack
+over the fence, and as it was too heavy to drag with them they agreed to
+bury it in the forest and dig it up as they came back.
+
+Just when they were ready a rabbit came up to them. "Hullo, little
+chaps," said the rabbit, "where are you off to?"
+
+"We are on our way to the fairies' cave," they replied.
+
+"You have a long way to go yet," said the rabbit; "the cave is on an
+island in the sea; but I am going that way, and if you jump on my back I
+will give you a lift."
+
+The little brothers thanked the rabbit very much, as they were feeling
+tired after their hard work. As soon as they were safely seated the
+rabbit started off.
+
+On and on they went until they had left the dark forest far behind, and
+were on the sea-shore. Here the rabbit stopped, saying, "I can take you
+no farther; you have now to cross the water, and must consult the Great
+Fish. He will appear if you knock three times on the rock. Take also
+this red dust, you will find it useful;" and putting a little bag of red
+dust into Red-Cap's hand the rabbit ran off.
+
+The goblins did as the rabbit had told them, and when they had knocked
+three times on a rock a large fish raised itself slowly out of the water
+and said, "Why have you called me?"
+
+"Please will you tell us how to get to the fairies' cave?" said
+Blue-Cap.
+
+  "Look between the rocks so green,
+  There a boat will soon be seen;
+  In the boat you all must sail,
+  Wafted gently by the gale."
+
+said the fish, and sank again beneath the blue waves.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+The brothers, after looking about for a little while, found a white boat
+between two big rocks covered with green seaweed. They pulled it out and
+got in, and no sooner had they sat down than a gentle wind sprang up and
+blew them steadily out to sea. They were rather frightened as they had
+never been on the sea before, but soon they saw that they were coming to
+land. The land proved to be an island, and when the boat stopped on the
+yellow sand the goblins all jumped out.
+
+They made the boat fast by tying the rope to a large piece of rock, and
+feeling that their hardest work was coming walked bravely over the
+sands, carrying a boat-hook which they had found in the boat.
+
+They soon came to a dark cave in the rocks. In front of the cave was a
+big dragon which breathed fire out of its mouth and roared like hundreds
+of lions. The goblins, after trying many times, managed to creep over
+the rocks behind the dragon, and throwing the dust which the rabbit had
+given them into its flaming eyes they at last, after a hard fight,
+killed the monster and entered the cave.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+The goblins looked round in the darkness for the serpent of which they
+had heard, but they could not find it.
+
+At last, when they were sadly thinking of going back to the boat,
+Red-Cap cried out that he saw something yellow in the dark shadow of a
+rock.
+
+It was the serpent's tail!
+
+They all ran after it, shouting loudly, and it led them some way down a
+rocky passage.
+
+It went very quickly, and they had to run very fast to keep it in sight;
+but at last they caught it, and after a sharp struggle--in which poor
+little Red-Cap nearly lost his life--killed it.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+The three little brothers stood looking at the dead serpent, and while
+they were looking it seemed to change! It moved! and grew thinner and
+darker, and the bright yellow colour turned to orange, and from orange
+colour to red, and then redder! and redder!! and redder!!! until they
+saw--that it was no longer the serpent, but the Red Feather for which
+they had come so far to look!
+
+At that moment a bright light seemed to shine, and standing near the
+goblins was a lovely lady.
+
+"Goblins," she cried, "welcome to the cave of the fairies. Long have I
+waited for this happy day, when my kingdom should be once more restored
+to me. You must know that many years ago the wicked wizard, Tom Tiddler,
+cast over me a cruel spell. I and my people were forced to leave our
+fairy isle, and wander in the shape of birds in the Big World. We were
+told that never would the spell be broken until three goblins should
+enter the cave in search of a feather. We therefore stole your Royal Red
+Feather, and hid it in our cave. No sooner had we done so than the cruel
+wizard turned it into a yellow serpent and put a terrible dragon at the
+entrance of the cave. Our friend Rowley the frog told your father that
+we had stolen the feather, and as soon as you were old enough we gave
+you the wish to undertake this journey. But for your courage I should
+still be in Tom Tiddler's power. In return for your bravery I now charm
+your Red Feather. Henceforth any goblin holding it in his hand shall
+have his wish--whatever it may be--granted." As the Princess said these
+words she touched the Feather with her wand.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+The goblins thanked the lovely Princess many times, and asked her to
+send for them at once if they could ever help her. They then took leave
+of the fairies and started for home.
+
+They sailed again over the sea and found the rabbit waiting for them.
+They jumped on the rabbit's back and off they went. When they got to the
+place where they had left the sack of gold and silver they found it had
+been dug up ready for them, and standing by it was a big blue bird with
+a red beak and red legs.
+
+"Jump on," said he, "and I will pull you; I am Pukeko,[A] the fairies'
+servant, sent to take you back to the mountain."
+
+[Footnote A: New Zealand Swamp-hen.]
+
+They thanked the kind rabbit, and jumping on the sack went on their way.
+They had not gone far when they heard a great noise behind them, and
+looking round saw Tom Tiddler trying hard to catch them.
+
+Before Tom Tiddler could touch them, however, Blue-Cap pointed the
+Red Feather at him, and said, "I wish you to become a snail!" and Tom
+Tiddler turned at once into a crawling snail.
+
+"He can never hurt any one again," the goblins cried with joy. "His
+treasure now is ours. Hurrah!"
+
+[Illustration]
+
+[Illustration]
+
+They soon reached home, and Old Black-Cap was very pleased to have them
+back safe and sound.
+
+"My dear sons," said he, taking them in his arms, "the kingdom is yours.
+Rule it well together, as together you have found the Feather. I am an
+old man now, and shall be glad to see you on the throne."
+
+Old Black-Cap and his sons gave a mushroom feast to celebrate the
+goblins' safe return. They invited the rat, the rabbit, the pukeko, and
+Rowley the frog, and they all enjoyed it very much and lived happily
+ever after.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's The Story of the Three Goblins, by Mabel G. Taggart
+
+
+

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+William Gibson Interview
+
+by Giuseppe Salza
+
+http://www.sct.fr/cyber/gibson.html
+
+
+
+
+Copyright Giuseppe Salza, 1994.
+giusal@world-net.sct.fr
+
+
+STANDARD DISCLAIMER:
+This document can be freely copied under the following conditions:
+it must circulate in its entire form (including this disclaimer);
+it is meant for personal and non-commercial usage.  This entire
+document or parts of it are not to be sold or distributed for a fee
+without prior permission. Send permission requests to
+"giusal@world-net.sct.fr".  This document is provided "as is", without
+express of implied warranty. In other words, use it at your own risk.
+
+INTERVIEW WITH WILLIAM GIBSON
+by Giuseppe Salza
+
+
+****This interview will be included in the book "Net-Surfers"
+(tentative title) by Giuseppe Salza, to be published by
+"Theoria Edizioni" in Italy in Spring 1995****
+
+
+CANNES. William Gibson was in Cannes in May 1994 to promote
+the filming of "Johnny Mnemonic", a $26 million science fiction
+movie based on his short story, and starring megastar Keanu
+Reeves as the main character. Directed by the concept artist (and
+Gibson's pal) Robert Longo - with a few music video and TV credits,
+but for the first time in charge of a feature, the film also stars Ice-T,
+Dolph Lundgren, Takeshi Kitano (of the cult "Sonatine"), Udo Kier,
+Henry Rollins and Dina Meyer. William Gibson also wrote the
+screenplay of his original story, which was published in the anthology
+"Burning Chrome". "Johnny Mnemonic" goes into wide release
+in current 1995.
+
+In this interview, William Gibson talks at length about "Johnny
+Mnemonic", movies, SF, net culture and issues.
+
+
+What are your initial impressions on how "Johnny Mnemonic" is
+turning out ?
+
+I have just seen the pre-assembled 10-minute show reel. I think it is
+fantastic! It felt very good seeing the universe of "Johnny Mnemonic"
+taking a life on its own.  If it had been different, I wouldn't probably
+be here. But it can be safe to say that "Johnny Mnemonic" has been
+the optimal screen experience so far.
+
+Robert (Longo, the film director) and I kind of had a mutual
+experience with it.  We first tried to make a screen adaptation of
+"Johnny Mnemonic" back in 1989, so we started pitching it around
+film companies, asking for money.  Didn't work out.  We realized
+afterwards that our major mistake was asking too little money.
+Our aim back then was to make a little art movie, we figured that
+we would need less than 2 million dollars. Jean-Luc Godard's
+"Alphaville" was our main inspiration back then.  We should have
+asked more money.
+
+We went through several script drafts and stages.  It became very
+painful pursuing the project.  If it were just for me, I would have
+given up long ago.  It was really Robert's faith and persistence
+in getting this film done that made it possible.
+
+
+Have you written any film scripts before, besides this and the ill-
+fated drafts for "Alien3"?
+
+Yeah, I have done a couple of screen adaptations that never got
+made.  One was "Burning Chrome" (ED.Kathryn Bigelow was
+involved in it for a while) and the other was "Neuro-Hotel".
+
+
+What happened ?
+
+I don't really feel like talking about them.  Let's just say that
+these projects have been... developed to death.  It was getting
+more and more frustrating, and I didn't like that.
+
+
+Have you ever been involved in any other movie or TV project
+before that ?
+
+I was gonna write a story for the "Max Headroom" series, but the
+network pulled the plug.  My friend John Shirley did a couple of
+scripts for them.  He's the one who convinced me I should have
+written one, too.
+
+
+The only thing which was left of your script for "Alien3" was the
+prisoners with the bar code tattooed on the back of their necks.
+What do you think in retrospect of this misadventure ?
+
+My script for "Alien3" was kind of Tarkovskian. Vincent Ward
+(ED.the director of "The Navigator") came late to the project
+(ED.after a number of other directors had been unsuccessfully
+approached), but I think he got the true meaning of my story.
+It would have been fun if he stayed on. (ED.he eventually quit.
+"Alien3" was finally directed by David Fincher)
+
+
+You seem very detached from your previous experiences in movies.
+"Johnny Mnemonic", on the other hand, seems very personal to you.
+Why is that ?
+
+I wrote the original story in 1980. I think it was perhaps the second
+piece of fiction I ever wrote in my life.  It held up very good after all
+these years.  "Johnny" was a start for many creative processes:
+it was in fact the root source of "Neuromancer" and "Count Zero".
+It is only fair that the first script of mine that goes into production
+should come from that, from my early career.
+
+The world of "Johnny Mnemonic" takes for granted the Berlusconi
+completion process, I mean the media baron becoming one of the
+Country's leaders.  I think the distinction between politicians and
+media is gonna disappear. It already has, in effect. It is very sad.
+
+
+It's like saying that the theories you imagined in your science fiction
+stories are becoming real...
+
+Yeah, but people shouldn't look at science fiction like they look at
+"real" fiction.  They shouldn't expect that this is what the future
+is gonna look like.  We (ED. science fiction writers) are sort of
+charlatans: we come up with a few ideas and we make a living out of that.
+
+When I wrote "Neuromancer", I would have never imagined AIDS
+and the collapse of the USSR.  We never get the future right.
+I always thought that USSR was this big winter bear that would
+always exist. And look at what happened.  In 1993 I wrote an
+afterword for the Hungarian version of "Neuromancer".  I wrote that
+nothing lives forever, and that it's time that the winds of democracy
+blow over the East.  But now, after the arrival of people like
+Zhirinowsky, I have second thoughts again and I fear for them.
+
+
+Now you also write "geo-anthropological" reports...
+
+That's right.  I did a portrait of Singapore for "Wired Magazine".
+That place gave me the creeps.
+
+
+You are considered the true father of cyberpunk.  What do you think
+of how this word has spread in the world and has gained new meanings ?
+
+It depends whether you believe in such a thing.  "Cyberpunk" has
+become a historical word, one of these words which you use to
+describe a definite period of time.  The risk is that it could suddenly
+become outdated, passe.  Now it is a very fashionable thing to say:
+wearing cyberpunk outfit or behaving cyberpunk has become hip:
+you see it on MTV.  I was never comfortable with this interpretation.
+Billy Idol (ED. he released in 1993 the album "Cyberpunk") has
+turned it into something very silly.
+
+Finally, I think that cyberpunk is one of these journalistic terms,
+that media like to rely on.  I am aware that most young writers
+are delighted being considered cyberpunk authors.  But I'm older.
+I remember well the Sixties.  I know that once you have a "label"
+attached onto you, it is over.
+
+
+Let's go back to "Johnny Mnemonic".  Which direction have you
+given the screenplay ?
+
+"Johnny" is about the politics of Information.  It's an action film
+of course, but it doesn't forego for flashy and graphic FX: there's too
+much of that already on MTV.  Besides, Billy Idol burned that look.
+We preferred opting for an anti-realistic look: we want to plunge
+the audience into a very strange but consistent universe.  In short,
+we have decided to tell a story.  That's what science fiction
+literature has often managed to achieve, unlike most films.
+
+
+Which science fiction movies you like most ?
+
+I like "Blade Runner", Andrej Tarkowski's "Stalker", Chris Marker's
+"La jetee", and also the British pilot for the "Max Headroom"
+series.  (ED. it was directed by Rocky Morton & Annabel Jenkel)
+
+
+"Johnny Mnemonic" has a superstar, Keanu Reeves.  What do you
+think of his portrayal of your character ?
+
+Keanu is fantastic! I have this problem: I have never been able to
+describe the character of Johnny, until he came aboard.  One day in
+the early stages of developement, we were discussing the character,
+and I wasn't making a good job of doing that.  But he really
+got Johnny from day one. It helped me better understand this
+person that I had imagined, so I was able to make small
+adjustments to the story. I have always had a good attitude
+towards actors, and Keanu helped me reinforce that idea.
+Once "Johnny" got its second chance, Robert (Longo) and I have
+talked to each others on the phone at least once every day.
+Subsequently, I was often on the sets during the filming, doing
+rewrites.  The sets of this picture were awesome!  Everything was
+hung 50 feet up in the air.  They were quite dangerous:  you really
+had to watch where to put your feet.  But I was able to not black out.
+
+
+You and Bruce Sterling are the forefathers of the new science fiction.
+Isn't it ironical that he is very fascinated by hackers and the new edge,
+whereas you're not a technical person ?
+
+Bruce practically lives on the Internet. I don't even have a modem
+or e-mail. My computer is outdated by any standards of criteria.
+I never was a technical guy and never will be.  I'm a writer,
+and poetry and pop culture are the two things which fascinate me most.
+I'm not deeply excited by hi-tech.  The Edge of the U2 was over here
+the other day and he was showing me Net stuff. He showed how he
+could telnet to his Los Angeles computer and he was very excited.
+I'll never be like that.  However, I feel obliged to be ambivalent
+towards technology.  I can't be a "techie", but I can't hate it, either.
+
+
+You have written "Virtual Light".  So, what do you think of Virtual
+Reality ?
+
+If we take what I consider the "Sunday paper supplement" of VR,
+I mean Goggles & Gloves, I think that it has become very obvious,
+very cliche.  I think that real VR is gonna come out from the new
+generation of visual effects in movies.  I met Jim Cameron when he
+was editing "Terminator 2": he showed me the clips of the T-1000
+emerging from fire in the L.A. canal.  He said they were gonna use
+the actor for the whole shot, but it was easier for them to do it in
+digital.  This is the future. One day there will be entire virtual
+replicas of real actors.
+
+Incidentally, the book I'm writing now is about virtual celebrities.
+It's the story of a guy who becomes obsessed with the virtual replica of
+a star, and falls in love with her.
+
+
+You're not fascinated by technology, and yet you come up with ideas
+on the edge...
+
+When I write my books, my favorite part is always "art direction",
+not the plot.  I admit I like giving people a visual impression
+of the world I'm creating. Then, I have to remind myself that
+I have to tell a story, foremost.
+
+
+Another issue you focus on are Information Superhighways.
+What actions have you taken ?
+
+Bruce Sterling and I went to the National Academy in Washington to
+address the Al Gore people.  We told them that this is the last
+chance to give the poorest schools equal chances than the richest.
+In a few years it will be too late and we won't be able to fill up the gap.
+
+To me, Information Highways are best described by the most
+interesting image I've seen on TV during the Los Angeles riot.
+A Radio Shack shop (ED. a chain of shops selling consumer
+electronics gear) was being looted.  Next to that there was an Apple
+shop, and it was untouched.  People wanted to steal portable TVs
+and CD players, not computers.  I think this clearly indicated the
+gaps of culture, or simply the gaps of chances, in our society.
+Besides, the Information Highway issue gives the public a false
+perception.  They don't wanna offer you exhaustive accesses to
+information; they wanna offer you a new shopping mall.
+
+
+What do you think of the Clipper issue ?
+
+The NSA wants to legislate that every computer manifactured in the
+U.S. will have a chip built inside that will allow the Government
+to decrypt the information.  The worst thing is that people are not
+informed of what is at stake here.  Who would buy a computer with a
+spy inside?  The Clipper chip is an admission of incompetence.
+They say they wanna be able to decrypt the information that would
+jeopardize National Security.  But to can prevent the Medellin cartel
+to buy - say - into a Swiss corporation which comes up with a new
+encryption system which totally cuts out the Clipper ?
+
+Encryption programs are stronger and stronger.  There is a new one
+called Stego, which is free on Internet.  It takes written material and
+hides it in visual elements.  I send a digitized e-postcard from
+Cannes and there is half a novel hidden in its data.  I've seen it work.
+I haven't understood the half of it yet.
+
+Man, the Clipper chip is fucked anyway.  Most of the new edge guys
+are into computers, and they're coming up with new gear nobody
+had the slightest clue about five years ago.  I saw recently a
+prototype which looked like a beeper, but it was a virtual telephone.
+Unfortunately, we have to deal with more paper than before.  We are
+submerged by tons of paper!
+
+
+Wait a second.  A few minutes you said you're not into hi-tech, and
+now you're raving about it...
+
+I'm not a techie.  I don't know how these things work.  But I like
+what they do, and the new human processes that they generate.
+
+
+What is in your opinion the most important technological
+breakthrough of our society in recent years ?
+
+My favorite piece of technology is the Walkman. It forever changed
+the way we perceive music.  The Walkman has given us the opportunity
+to listen to whatever kind of music we wanted wherever we wanted.
+
+The Fax machine is also an amazing thing.  We live in a
+very different world because of that:  instantaneous written
+communication everywhere. It is also a very political technology,
+as the Tien An Men Square events told us.
+
+
+What about e-mail ?
+
+E-mail is very glamorous.  Way too glamorous.
+
+
+Copyright Giuseppe Salza, 1994.
+giusal@world-net.sct.fr
+
+
+STANDARD DISCLAIMER:
+This document can be freely copied under the following conditions:
+it must circulate in its entire form (including this disclaimer);
+it is meant for personal and non-commercial usage.  This entire
+document or parts of it are not to be sold or distributed for a fee
+without prior permission. Send permission requests to
+"giusal@world-net.sct.fr".  This document is provided "as is", without
+express of implied warranty. In other words, use it at your own risk.
+
+END FILE
+  -------------------------------------------------------
+ /    -- Giuseppe Salza --            ~~~~e-mail~~~~     \
+ |    Il manifesto                      ----------        |
+ | Tel. +33 - 1 - 43.71.60.69     giusal@world-net.sct.fr |
+ | Fax: +33 - 1 - 43.71.43.29     compuserve: 73544,1205  |
+ \                                                       /
+  -------------------------------------------------------
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's William Gibson Interviewed, by Giuseppe Salza
+
+
+

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+Produced by David Widger
+
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+
+OLD JABE'S MARITAL EXPERIMENTS
+
+By Thomas Nelson Page
+
+Charles Scribner's Sons New York, 1908
+
+Copyright, 1891, 1904, 1906
+
+
+Old Jabe belonged to the Meriwethers, a fact which he never forgot or
+allowed anyone else to forget; and on this he traded as a capital,
+which paid him many dividends of one kind or another, among them being a
+dividend in wives. How many wives he had had no one knew; and Jabe's own
+account was incredible. It would have eclipsed Henry VIII and Bluebeard.
+But making all due allowance for his arithmetic, he must have run these
+worthies a close second. He had not been a specially good “hand” before
+the war, and was generally on unfriendly terms with the overseers.
+They used to say that he was a “slick-tongued loafer,” and “the laziest
+nigger on the place.” But Jabe declared, in defiance, that he had been
+on the plantation before any overseer ever put his foot there, and he
+would outstay the last one of them all, which, indeed, proved to be
+true. The overseers disappeared with the end of Slavery, but Jabe
+remained “slick-tongued,” oily, and humorous, as before.
+
+When, at the close of the war, the other negroes moved away, Jabez,
+after a brief outing, “took up” a few acres on the far edge of the
+plantation, several miles from the house, and settled down to spend
+the rest of his days, on what he called his “place,” in such ease
+as constant application to his old mistress for aid and a frequently
+renewed supply of wives could give.
+
+Jabe's idea of emancipation was somewhat one-sided. He had all the
+privileges of a freed-man, but lost none of a slave. He was free, but
+his master's condition remained unchanged: he still had to support him,
+when Jabez chose to call on him, and Jabez chose to call often.
+
+“Ef I don' come to you, who is I got to go to!” he demanded.
+
+This was admitted to be a valid argument, and Jabez lived, if not on the
+fat of the land, at least on the fat of his former mistress's kitchen,
+with such aid as his current wife could furnish.
+
+He had had several wives before the war, and was reputed to be none too
+good to them, a fact which was known at home only on hearsay; for he
+always took his wives from plantations at a distance from his home.
+
+The overseers said that he did this so that he could get off to go to
+his “wife's house,” and thus shirk work; the other servants said it
+was because the women did not know him so well as those at home, and he
+could leave them when he chose.
+
+Jabez assigned a different reason:
+
+“It don' do to have your wife live too nigh to you; she 'll want t' know
+too much about you, an' you can't never git away from her”--a bit of
+philosophy the soundness of which must be left to married men.
+
+However it was, his reputation did not interfere with his ability to
+procure a new wife as often as occasion arose. With Jabez the supply was
+ever equal to the demand.
+
+Mrs. Meriwether, his old mistress, was just telling me of him one day
+in reply to a question of mine as to what had become of him; for I had
+known him before the war.
+
+“Oh! he is living still, and he bids fair to outlast the whole colored
+female sex. He is a perfect Bluebeard. He has had I do not know how many
+wives and I heard that his last wife was sick. They sent for my son,
+Douglas, the doctor, not long ago to see her. However, I hope she is
+better as he has not been sent for again.”
+
+At this moment, by a coincidence, the name of Jabez was brought in by a
+maid.
+
+“Unc' Jabez, m'm.”
+
+That was all; but the tone and the manner of the maid told that Jabez
+was a person of note with the messenger; every movement and glance were
+self-conscious.
+
+“That old--! He is a nuisance! What does he want now? Is his wife worse,
+or is he after a new one?”
+
+“I d' n' kn', m'm,” said the maid, sheepishly, twisting her body and
+looking away, to appear unconcerned. “Would n' tell me. He ain' after
+_me!_
+
+“Well, tell him to go to the kitchen till I send for him. Or--wait:
+if his wife 's gone, he 'll be courting the cook if I send him to the
+kitchen. And I don't want to lose her just now. Tell him to come to the
+door.”
+
+“Yes, 'm.” The maid gave a half-suppressed giggle, which almost became
+an explosion as she said something to herself and closed the door.
+It sounded like, “Dressed up might'ly--settin' up to de cook now, I
+b'lieve.”
+
+There was a slow, heavy step without, and a knock at the back door; and
+on a call from his mistress, Jabez entered, bowing low, very pompous and
+serious. He was a curious mixture of assurance and conciliation, as he
+stood there, hat in hand. He was tall and black and bald, with white
+side-whiskers cut very short, and a rim of white wool around his head.
+He was dressed in an old black coat, and held in his hand an ancient
+beaver hat around which was a piece of rusty crape.
+
+“Well, Jabez?” said his mistress, after the salutations were over, “How
+are you getting along!”
+
+“Well, mist'is, not very well, not at all well, ma'am. Had mighty bad
+luck. 'Bout my wife,” he added, explanatorily. He pulled down his lips,
+and looked the picture of solemnity.
+
+I saw from Mrs. Meriwether's mystified look that she did not know what
+he considered “bad luck.” She could not tell from his reference whether
+his wife was better or worse.
+
+“Is she--ah? What--oh--how is Amanda?” she demanded finally, to solve
+the mystery.
+
+“Mandy! Lord! 'm, 'Mandy was two back. She 's de one runned away wid Tom
+Halleck, an' lef' me. I don't know how _she_ is. I never went ahter
+her. I wuz re-ally glad to git shet o' her. She was too expansive. Dat
+ooman want two frocks a year. When dese women begin to dress up so much,
+a man got to look out. Dee ain't always dressin' fer _you!_”
+
+“Indeed!” But Mrs. Meriwether's irony was lost on Jabez.
+
+“Yes, 'm; dat she did! Dis one 's name was Sairey.” He folded his hands
+and waited, the picture of repose and contentment.
+
+“Oh, yes. So; true. I 'd forgotten that 'Mandy left you. But I thought
+the new one was named Susan!” observed Mrs. Meriwether.
+
+“No, 'm; not de _newes_' one. Susan--I had her las' Christmas; but she
+would n' stay wid me. She was al'ays runnin' off to town; an' you know a
+man don' want a ooman on wheels. Ef de Lawd had intended a ooman to have
+wheels, he 'd 'a' gi'n 'em to her, would n' he?”
+
+“Well, I suppose he would,” assented Mrs. Meriwether. “And this one is
+Sarah? Well, how is----?”
+
+“Yes, 'm; dis one was Sairey.” We just caught the past tense.
+
+“You get them so quickly, you see, you can't expect one to remember
+them,” said Mrs. Meriwether, frigidly. She meant to impress Jabez; but
+Jabez remained serene.
+
+“Yes, 'm; dat 's so,” said he, cheerfully. “I kin hardly remember 'em
+myself.”
+
+“No, I suppose not.” His mistress grew severe. “Well, how 's Sarah?”
+
+“Well, m'm, I could n' exactly say--Sairey she 's done lef me--yes, 'm.”
+ He looked so cheerful that his mistress said with asperity:
+
+“Left you! She has run off, too! You must have treated her badly?”
+
+“No, 'm. I did n'. I never had a wife I treated better. I let her had
+all she could eat; an' when she was sick----”
+
+“I heard she was sick. I heard you sent for the doctor.”
+
+“Yes, 'm; dat I did--dat 's what I was gwine to tell you. I had a doctor
+to see her _twice_. I had two separate and _indifferent_ physicians:
+fust Dr. Overall, an' den Marse Douglas. I could n' do no mo' 'n dat,
+now, could I?”
+
+“Well, I don't know,” observed Mrs. Meriwether. “My son told me a week
+ago that she was sick. Did she get well?”
+
+The old man shook his head solemnly.
+
+“No, 'm; but she went mighty easy. Marse Douglas he eased her off. He is
+the bes' doctor I ever see to let 'em die easy.”
+
+Mingled with her horror at his cold-blooded recital, a smile flickered
+about Mrs. Meriwether's mouth at this shot at her son, the doctor; but
+the old man looked absolutely innocent.
+
+“Why did n 't you send for the doctor again?” she demanded.
+
+“Well, m'm, I gin her two chances. I think dat was 'nough. I wuz right
+fond o' Sairey; but I declar' I 'd rather lost Sairey than to _broke_.”
+
+“You would!” Mrs. Meriwether sat up and began to bristle. “Well, at
+least, you have the expense of her funeral; and I 'm glad of it,” she
+asserted with severity.
+
+“Dat 's what I come over t' see you 'bout. I 'm gwine to give Sairey a
+fine fun'ral. I want you to let yo' cook cook me a cake an'--one or two
+more little things.”
+
+“Very well,” said Mrs. Meriwether, relenting somewhat; “I will tell her
+to do so. I will tell her to make you a good cake. When do you want it?”
+
+“Thank you m'm. Yes, m'm; ef you 'll gi' me a right good-sized
+cake--an'--a loaf or two of flour-bread--an'--a ham, I 'll be very much
+obleeged to you. I heah she 's a mighty good cook?”
+
+“She is,” said Mrs. Meriwether; “the best I 've had in a long time.”
+ She had not caught the tone of interrogation in his voice, nor seen the
+shrewd look in his face, as I had done. Jabez appeared well satisfied.
+
+“I 'm mighty glad to heah you give her sech a good character; I heahed
+you 'd do it. I don' know her very well.”
+
+Mrs. Meriwether looked up quickly enough to catch his glance this time.
+
+“Jabez--I know nothing about her character,” she began coldly. “I know
+she has a vile temper; but she is an excellent cook, and so long as she
+is not impudent to me, that is all I want to know.”
+
+Jabez bowed approvingly.
+
+“Yes, 'm; dat 's right. Dat 's all I want t' know. I don' keer nothin'
+'bout de temper; atter I git 'em, I kin manage 'em. I jist want t'
+know 'bout de char-àcter, dat 's all. I did n' know her so well, an'
+I thought I 'd ax you. I tolt her ef you 'd give her a good char-àcter,
+she might suit me; but I 'd wait fer de cake--_an_' de ham.”
+
+His mistress rose to her feet.
+
+“Jabez, do you mean that you have spoken to that woman already!”
+
+“Well, yes, 'm; but not to say _speak_ to her. I jes kind o' mentioned
+it to her as I 'd inquire as to her char-àcter.”
+
+“And your wife has been gone--how long! Two days!”
+
+“Well, mist'is, she 's gone fer good, ain't she!” demanded Jabez. “She
+can't be no mo' gone!”
+
+“You are a wicked, hardened old sinner!” declared the old lady,
+vehemently.
+
+“Nor, I ain't, mist'is; I clar' I ain't,” protested Jabez, with
+unruffled front.
+
+“You treat your wives dreadfully.”
+
+“Nor, I don't, mist'is. You ax 'em ef I does. Ef I did, dee would n'
+be so many of 'em anxious t' git me. Now, would dee? I can start in an'
+beat a' one o' dese young bloods aroin' heah, now.” He spoke with pride.
+
+“I believe that is so, and I cannot understand it. And before one
+of them is in her grave you are courting another. It is horrid--an
+old--Methuselah like you.” She paused to take breath, and Jabez availed
+himself of the pause.
+
+“Dat 's de reason I got t' do things in a kind o' hurry--I ain' no
+Methuselum. I got no time t' wait.”
+
+“Jabez,” said Mrs. Meriwether, seriously, “tell me how you manage to
+fool all these women.”
+
+The old man pondered for a moment.
+
+“Well, I declar,' mist'is, I hardly knows how. Dee wants to be fooled.
+I think it is becuz dee wants t' see what de urrs marry me fer, an' what
+dee done lef' me. Woman is mighty curi-some folk.”
+
+I have often wondered since if this was really the reason.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+

passages/pg23522.txt

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+
+
+
+E-text prepared by Roger Frank and the Project Gutenberg Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team (https://www.pgdp.net)
+
+
+
+Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this
+      file which includes the original illustrations.
+      See 23522-h.htm or 23522-h.zip:
+      (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/3/5/2/23522/23522-h/23522-h.htm)
+      or
+      (https://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/3/5/2/23522/23522-h.zip)
+
+
+
+
+
+WHIFFET SQUIRREL
+
+Written and Pictured by
+
+JULIA GREENE
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+New York
+Cupples & Leon Company
+
+
+     *     *     *     *     *     *
+
+THE MAKE-BELIEVE SERIES
+
+Whiffet Squirrel       The Mouse's Tail
+The Yaller Dog         Miss Patty Peep
+
+     *     *     *     *     *     *
+
+Copyright, 1917, by
+Cupples & Leon Company
+
+
+
+WHIFFET SQUIRREL
+
+Whiffet, Skiffet and Skud were three little red squirrels who lived
+with their father and mother in a tiny brown house in the old chestnut
+tree. First, I must tell you how the Squirrel family came to live in
+this dear little house. You see it happened this way. Father and
+Mother Squirrel started out very early one morning in the spring, to
+hunt a new home as they did not feel safe any longer living under the
+old pine stump, with the children getting large enough to run about.
+They both scampered up the old chestnut tree at the back of the farm
+house to see if they could find a nice deep hollow that would make a
+safe home for their little ones. When Mother Squirrel had gone about
+half way up the tree trunk, and as she climbed around a big limb, she
+almost bumped her head against what seemed to be a brownish wall. She
+peeped around the corner of the brownish wall and what do you suppose
+she saw? She held her breath in rapture for there before her bright
+little eyes sat the cutest little brown house resting right on the big
+limb. It was far more wonderful than any home that she had ever
+dreamed of. It had a sloping red roof and two little round doors. A
+good sized porch jutted out in front and each little door was several
+inches above the porch. Mother Squirrel very cautiously placed her two
+front feet on the porch and listened intently but all was very quiet.
+Of course the folks who owned the house might be still asleep or they
+might be away. She crept quietly to the first little round door and
+peeped in. She saw a cute little room entirely empty. "The family must
+be away" she thought. Boldly she peeped in through the second little
+door and saw another cute little room just like the first and also
+empty. Then she walked in and explored both rooms and found a sort of
+cubby hole closet at the back of each. "What a fine place for storing
+nuts," said Mother Squirrel to herself, "but it would be much handier
+with a door between the two rooms." Then she walked out on the porch
+and looked around. The little house was shut in almost completely by
+the thick green leaves except for a patch of blue sky that showed
+above the roof. "I wonder who this little house belongs to" thought
+Mother Squirrel to herself with an envious sigh. Just then she looked
+up at the patch of blue sky and her bright eyes caught sight of a
+small sign on the peak of the roof which she had not noticed before.
+On the sign were printed the words "FOR RENT" in bright red letters.
+
+When Mother Squirrel saw the sign "FOR RENT" she nearly fell backwards
+off the porch in her joy and excitement. She began to chatter and
+scream in a loud shrill voice which brought her husband scampering to
+the spot at top speed. Father Squirrel was quite as excited and
+delighted over the house as was his wife. "It was surely meant for us"
+he said; "we'll move in at once. You'd better stay here, my dear, in
+case anyone should come along while I go back to the old stump for the
+children and our things. I had better get the moving done before many
+people are out." Off he scampered and Mother Squirrel began at once to
+plan her housekeeping arrangements and started to gnaw a door between
+the two rooms with her sharp little teeth. As she was working busily
+at her task a shadow fell across the door and she heard a strange
+chirping voice say: "My love, I am sure this is just the place we've
+been looking for." Her heart began to beat violently with alarm.
+Peeping through the door she saw two large fat Newly-wed Robins
+standing on the porch in an affectionate attitude gazing admiringly up
+at the house. "The nerve of some people" thought Mother Squirrel,
+shaking with indignation. "They seem to think it's a bird house. It's
+that 'FOR RENT' sign. The idea of their talking about our house like
+that! But I'll fix _them_." Mother Squirrel poked her head out of
+the little round door very suddenly and glaring with a very fierce
+expression, she exclaimed in a loud voice: "THE CAT'S COMING"!
+
+The Newly-wed Robins both turned very pale and flew--I think they're
+flying yet. Mother Squirrel chuckled to herself but decided to take no
+more risks so she climbed up the roof and took down the "FOR RENT"
+sign.
+
+Soon Father Squirrel and the children Whiffet, Skiffet and Skud, each
+carrying a bag came scampering up the tree trunk. Mother Squirrel made
+them nearly die laughing when she told them how she had frightened the
+Newly-wed Robins.
+
+Then Father Squirrel turned the "FOR RENT" sign over and painted on
+the other side the words "NO TRESPASSING" and placed it on the corner
+of the porch.
+
+This is how the Squirrel family found their new home but I will tell
+you something that they do not even suspect. The little brown house is
+a bird house built by Tom the farmer's son for his little sister
+Polly.
+
+The thickening leaves had hidden it from view and little Polly had
+forgotten all about it.
+
+Whiffet, Skiffet and Skud led a jolly life in the old chestnut tree.
+They played from the topmost branch to the lowest limb but Mother
+Squirrel would not let them go down the tree trunk to the ground for
+fear of cats. Whiffet Squirrel the tiniest of the three could think of
+more mischief than her two big brothers Skiffet and Skud put together.
+She was not afraid of anything and was always bossing her brothers and
+leading them into trouble.
+
+One morning early she ran out on the large limb on which the little
+brown house rested and found that it almost reached to one of the
+windows of the farmhouse. Peeping in the window she saw a pretty
+little girl asleep in a small white bed. She leaped lightly to the
+window-sill and looked around her. In one corner of the room she saw
+many toys and dolls of every description, but the thing that attracted
+her the most was a dear little doll's trunk. It was standing at the
+foot of the doll's bed. "Just the right size for a squirrel" she
+thought to herself. Just then Polly turned over in her sleep and
+Whiffet scampered up the limb and back home as fast as she could run.
+Of course she told Skiffet and Skud all about what she had seen and
+she began to plan right away how they could get the little trunk. Yes
+I will have to confess that they sometimes took things which did not
+belong to them but as they were only squirrels no one had ever told
+them any better.
+
+Needless to say Whiffet kept her plan a secret as she knew that Mother
+Squirrel would never consent. The following morning, just after
+daylight, as soon as Father and Mother Squirrel had started out to
+hunt their food for the day, the three little squirrels, Whiffet
+leading the way, crept softly down the limb to the window-sill. The
+little trunk was standing in the same place and Polly was sleeping
+soundly. A chair stood beneath the window and they leaped to the chair
+seat then to the floor and crept softly toward the trunk. Whiffet as
+usual bossed her brothers and made them each take a handle of the
+trunk and carry it across the floor to the chair. Skiffet then climbed
+to the chair seat and reached down and pulled valiantly at his end of
+the trunk while Skud pushed from below. It was pretty heavy but they
+got it safely to the chair seat. They had to be very careful about
+making a noise as the window was near Polly's bed. Next Skiffet
+climbed to the window sill and pulled again while Skud boosted from
+below. It was almost up when Skiffet's foot slipped and he fell over
+backwards losing his hold of the trunk; down it fell to the floor with
+a loud bump. The little squirrels trembled with fear thinking that the
+noise would awaken Polly but she only turned on her other side, and in
+a few minutes they started to lift the trunk again. This time they
+were more careful. They succeeded in getting it safely to the window
+sill, but to hoist it to the tree branch was too risky a feat for them
+to try, so Whiffet decided to open the trunk and see what was inside.
+She lifted up the lid very softly and found that it contained enough
+pretty clothes for a whole doll family. In one of the trays was a
+doll's tiny white hand mirror, comb, brush and powder puff. Whiffet
+was so taken up with these things she nearly forgot everything else,
+but Skiffet reminded her that they had better carry the doll's clothes
+home at once as it was getting late and Polly might wake up any
+minute.
+
+They had to make several trips but at last the trunk was emptied; they
+shut down the lid and left it standing on the window sill. There was
+much excitement over the new clothes and Father and Mother Squirrel
+were as delighted as the children. I wish you could have seen the
+Squirrel family all dressed up in their finery. Skiffet fell in love
+with a cunning red sweater, and Skud took possession of a tiny pair of
+blue overalls.
+
+As for Whiffet she became very vain. She looked into the mirror every
+day and powdered her nose regularly. She was very proud of a pale blue
+evening dress which she found in the bottom of the little trunk, and
+with slippers to match, her bliss was complete.
+
+Two or three days later little Polly went to her doll's trunk to get a
+dress that she wanted and was very much surprised to find the trunk
+entirely empty. She hunted everywhere but not a single one of the
+things could she find. Polly felt very badly at the loss of her doll's
+clothes but especially missed the doll's toilet articles as they were
+the only ones she had. The mystery was not solved until one day late
+in the month of October, when the leaves began to fall. Tom was
+looking up in the chestnut tree when he caught a glimpse of the bird
+house. "I wonder if any birds did use it" thought Tom. He climbed up
+and peeped in the little round doors. The two little cubby holes at
+the back were full of chestnuts and in a corner of each room lay a
+pile of doll's clothes. "Oh Polly," he shouted, "come here quick; I've
+found out who stole your doll's clothes. It's the squirrels." Polly
+came running; with Tom's help she climbed the tree and peeped into the
+house. (Of course the Squirrel family were all out walking when this
+happened). "Did you ever" she cried. "The mischievous little rascals.
+What do you suppose they wanted them for?" She reached her little hand
+through the "bedroom" door and picked up a pile of the doll's clothes.
+Underneath she found the little mirror, brush, comb, and powder puff
+where Whiffet had carefully hidden them. Polly was delighted to find
+her treasures. "I will take these home," she said, "but I will leave
+the doll's clothes, for no doll would care to wear them now." "We'd
+better climb down" said Tom, "for the squirrels can't be far away and
+we don't want to scare them off." "I wonder what became of the 'FOR
+RENT' sign," said Polly. Just then a big red squirrel came scolding
+and chattering down the tree trunk towards them. (It was Father
+Squirrel). Tom and Polly climbed down quickly.
+
+That night when Whiffet went to look for her mirror and powder puff
+she exclaimed angrily, stamping her little blue slippered foot, "the
+nerve of some people."
+
+So now Whiffet has to go without powdering her nose, and she can't
+tell when her hat is on straight for she has no mirror. Skiffet and
+Skud have left off combing their top "Fur" as they have no comb or
+brush, but I'm sure that Polly's doll is very glad indeed to get her
+own tiny things again.
+
+
+
+
+

passages/pg23538.txt

@@ -0,0 +1,680 @@
+
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Lewis Jones
+
+
+
+
+Pound, Ezra (1920) _Hugh Selwyn Mauberley_
+
+
+
+Hugh Selwyn
+Mauberley
+
+BY
+
+E. P.
+
+
+
+
+THE OVID PRESS
+1920
+
+
+
+"VOCAT AESTUS IN UMBRAM"
+           _Nemesianus Ec. IV._
+
+
+
+H. S. Mauberley
+
+(LIFE AND CONTACTS)
+
+Transcriber's note: Ezra Pound's _Hugh Selwyn Mauberley_
+contains accents, diphthongs and Greek characters. Facsimile
+images of the poems as originally published are freely available
+online from the Internet Archive. Please use these images to
+check for any errors or inadequacies in this electronic text.
+
+
+           _MAUBERLEY_
+            CONTENTS
+             Part I.
+            ________
+
+_Ode pour l'election de son sepulcher_
+II.
+III.
+IV.
+V.
+_Yeux Glauques_
+_"Siena mi fe', disfecemi Maremma"_
+_Brennbaum_
+_Mr. Nixon_
+X.
+XI.
+XII.
+
+         ____________
+
+            ENVOI
+            1919
+        ____________
+
+          Part II.
+           1920
+        (Mauberley)
+
+I.
+II.
+III. _"The age demanded"_
+IV.
+V.   _Medallion_
+
+
+
+
+E.P.
+ODE POUR SELECTION DE SON SEPULCHRE
+
+FOR three years, out of key with his time,
+He strove to resuscitate the dead art
+Of poetry; to maintain "the sublime"
+In the old sense. Wrong from the start--
+
+No hardly, but, seeing he had been born
+In a half savage country, out of date;
+Bent resolutely on wringing lilies from the acorn;
+Capaneus; trout for factitious bait;
+
+_{~GREEK SMALL LETTER IOTA WITH PSILI AND OXIA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER DELTA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER MU~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER EPSILON~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER NU~} {~GREEK SMALL LETTER GAMMA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER ALPHA WITH TONOS~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER RHO~} {~GREEK SMALL LETTER TAU~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER OMICRON~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER IOTA~} {~GREEK SMALL LETTER PI~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER ALPHA WITH TONOS~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER NU~} {~GREEK SMALL LETTER PI~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER ALPHA WITH TONOS~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER NU~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER THETA~}', {~GREEK SMALL LETTER OMICRON WITH TONOS~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER SIGMA~}' {~GREEK SMALL LETTER EPSILON WITH TONOS~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER NU~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER IOTA~} {~GREEK CAPITAL LETTER TAU~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER RHO~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER OMICRON~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER IOTA WITH TONOS~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER ETA~}_
+Caught in the unstopped ear;
+Giving the rocks small lee-way
+The chopped seas held him, therefore, that year.
+
+His true Penelope was Flaubert,
+He fished by obstinate isles;
+Observed the elegance of Circe's hair
+Rather than the mottoes on sun-dials.
+
+Unaffected by "the march of events,"
+He passed from men's memory in _l'an trentiesme
+De son eage_; the case presents
+No adjunct to the Muses' diadem.
+
+
+II.
+
+THE age demanded an image
+Of its accelerated grimace,
+Something for the modern stage,
+Not, at any rate, an Attic grace;
+
+Not, not certainly, the obscure reveries
+Of the inward gaze;
+Better mendacities
+Than the classics in paraphrase!
+
+The "age demanded" chiefly a mould in plaster,
+Made with no loss of time,
+A prose kinema, not, not assuredly, alabaster
+Or the "sculpture" of rhyme.
+
+
+III.
+
+THE tea-rose tea-gown, etc.
+Supplants the mousseline of Cos,
+The pianola "replaces"
+Sappho's barbitos.
+
+Christ follows Dionysus,
+Phallic and ambrosial
+Made way for macerations;
+Caliban casts out Ariel.
+
+All things are a flowing,
+Sage Heracleitus says;
+But a tawdry cheapness
+Shall reign throughout our days.
+
+Even the Christian beauty
+Defects--after Samothrace;
+We see _{~GREEK SMALL LETTER TAU~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER OMICRON~} {~GREEK SMALL LETTER KAPPA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER ALPHA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER LAMDA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER OMICRON WITH TONOS~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER NU~}_
+Decreed in the market place.
+
+Faun's flesh is not to us,
+Nor the saint's vision.
+We have the press for wafer;
+Franchise for circumcision.
+
+All men, in law, are equals.
+Free of Peisistratus,
+We choose a knave or an eunuch
+To rule over us.
+
+O bright Apollo,
+_{~GREEK SMALL LETTER TAU~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER IOTA WITH TONOS~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER NU~}'  {~GREEK SMALL LETTER ALPHA WITH TONOS~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER NU~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER DELTA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER RHO~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER ALPHA~}, {~GREEK SMALL LETTER TAU~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER IOTA WITH TONOS~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER NU~}'  {~GREEK SMALL LETTER ETA WITH TONOS~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER RHO~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER OMEGA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER ALPHA~}, {~GREEK SMALL LETTER TAU~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER IOTA WITH TONOS~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER NU~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER ALPHA~} {~GREEK SMALL LETTER THETA~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER EPSILON~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER OMICRON~}{~GREEK SMALL LETTER NU~}_,
+What god, man, or hero
+Shall I place a tin wreath upon!
+
+
+IV.
+
+THESE fought, in any case,
+and some believing, pro domo, in any case . .
+Some quick to arm,
+some for adventure,
+some from fear of weakness,
+some from fear of censure,
+some for love of slaughter, in imagination,
+learning later . . .
+
+some in fear, learning love of slaughter;
+Died some "pro patria, non dulce non et decor". .
+
+walked eye-deep in hell
+believing in old men's lies, then unbelieving
+came home, home to a lie,
+home to many deceits,
+home to old lies and new infamy;
+
+usury age-old and age-thick
+and liars in public places.
+
+Daring as never before, wastage as never before.
+Young blood and high blood,
+Fair cheeks, and fine bodies;
+
+fortitude as never before
+
+frankness as never before,
+disillusions as never told in the old days,
+hysterias, trench confessions,
+laughter out of dead bellies.
+
+
+V.
+
+THERE died a myriad,
+And of the best, among them,
+For an old bitch gone in the teeth,
+For a botched civilization,
+
+Charm, smiling at the good mouth,
+Quick eyes gone under earth's lid,
+
+For two gross of broken statues,
+For a few thousand battered books.
+
+
+YEUX GLAUQUES
+
+GLADSTONE was still respected,
+When John Ruskin produced
+"Kings Treasuries"; Swinburne
+And Rossetti still abused.
+
+Foetid Buchanan lifted up his voice
+When that faun's head of hers
+Became a pastime for
+Painters and adulterers.
+
+The Burne-Jones cartons
+Have preserved her eyes;
+Still, at the Tate, they teach
+Cophetua to rhapsodize;
+
+Thin like brook-water,
+With a vacant gaze.
+The English Rubaiyat was still-born
+In those days.
+
+The thin, clear gaze, the same
+Still darts out faun-like from the half-ruin'd fac
+Questing and passive ....
+"Ah, poor Jenny's case"...
+
+Bewildered that a world
+Shows no surprise
+At her last maquero's
+Adulteries.
+
+
+"SIENA MI FE', DISFECEMI MAREMMA"
+
+AMONG the pickled foetuses and bottled bones,
+Engaged in perfecting the catalogue,
+I found the last scion of the
+Senatorial families of Strasbourg, Monsieur Verog.
+
+For two hours he talked of Gallifet;
+Of Dowson; of the Rhymers' Club;
+Told me how Johnson (Lionel) died
+By falling from a high stool in a pub . . .
+
+But showed no trace of alcohol
+At the autopsy, privately performed--
+Tissue preserved--the pure mind
+Arose toward Newman as the whiskey warmed.
+
+Dowson found harlots cheaper than hotels;
+Headlam for uplift; Image impartially imbued
+With raptures for Bacchus, Terpsichore and the Church.
+So spoke the author of "The Dorian Mood",
+
+M. Verog, out of step with the decade,
+Detached from his contemporaries,
+Neglected by the young,
+Because of these reveries.
+
+
+BRENNBAUM.
+
+THE sky-like limpid eyes,
+The circular infant's face,
+The stiffness from spats to collar
+Never relaxing into grace;
+
+The heavy memories of Horeb, Sinai and the forty years,
+Showed only when the daylight fell
+Level across the face
+Of Brennbaum "The Impeccable".
+
+
+MR. NIXON
+
+IN the cream gilded cabin of his steam yacht
+Mr. Nixon advised me kindly, to advance with fewer
+Dangers of delay. "Consider
+    "Carefully the reviewer.
+
+"I was as poor as you are;
+"When I began I got, of course,
+"Advance on royalties, fifty at first", said Mr. Nixon,
+"Follow me, and take a column,
+"Even if you have to work free.
+
+"Butter reviewers. From fifty to three hundred
+"I rose in eighteen months;
+"The hardest nut I had to crack
+"Was Dr. Dundas.
+
+"I never mentioned a man but with the view
+"Of selling my own works.
+"The tip's a good one, as for literature
+"It gives no man a sinecure."
+
+And no one knows, at sight a masterpiece.
+And give up verse, my boy,
+There's nothing in it.
+
+                   *    *    *
+
+Likewise a friend of Bloughram's once advised me:
+Don't kick against the pricks,
+Accept opinion. The "Nineties" tried your game
+And died, there's nothing in it.
+
+
+X.
+
+BENEATH the sagging roof
+The stylist has taken shelter,
+Unpaid, uncelebrated,
+At last from the world's welter
+
+Nature receives him,
+With a placid and uneducated mistress
+He exercises his talents
+And the soil meets his distress.
+
+The haven from sophistications and contentions
+Leaks through its thatch;
+He offers succulent cooking;
+The door has a creaking latch.
+
+
+XI.
+
+"CONSERVATRIX of Milesien"
+Habits of mind and feeling,
+Possibly. But in Ealing
+With the most bank-clerkly of Englishmen?
+
+No, "Milesien" is an exaggeration.
+No instinct has survived in her
+Older than those her grandmother
+Told her would fit her station.
+
+
+XII.
+
+"DAPHNE with her thighs in bark
+Stretches toward me her leafy hands",--
+Subjectively. In the stuffed-satin drawing-room
+I await The Lady Valentine's commands,
+
+Knowing my coat has never been
+Of precisely the fashion
+To stimulate, in her,
+A durable passion;
+
+Doubtful, somewhat, of the value
+Of well-gowned approbation
+Of literary effort,
+But never of The Lady Valentine's vocation:
+
+Poetry, her border of ideas,
+The edge, uncertain, but a means of blending
+With other strata
+Where the lower and higher have ending;
+
+A hook to catch the Lady Jane's attention,
+A modulation toward the theatre,
+Also, in the case of revolution,
+A possible friend and comforter.
+
+             *       *       *
+
+Conduct, on the other hand, the soul
+"Which the highest cultures have nourished"
+To Fleet St. where
+Dr. Johnson flourished;
+
+Beside this thoroughfare
+The sale of half-hose has
+Long since superseded the cultivation
+Of Pierian roses.
+
+
+ENVOI (1919)
+
+GO, dumb-born book,
+Tell her that sang me once that song of Lawes;
+Hadst thou but song
+As thou hast subjects known,
+Then were there cause in thee that should condone
+Even my faults that heavy upon me lie
+And build her glories their longevity.
+
+Tell her that sheds
+Such treasure in the air,
+Recking naught else but that her graces give
+Life to the moment,
+I would bid them live
+As roses might, in magic amber laid,
+Red overwrought with orange and all made
+One substance and one colour
+Braving time.
+
+Tell her that goes
+With song upon her lips
+But sings not out the song, nor knows
+The maker of it, some other mouth,
+May be as fair as hers,
+Might, in new ages, gain her worshippers,
+When our two dusts with Waller's shall be laid,
+Siftings on siftings in oblivion,
+Till change hath broken down
+All things save Beauty alone.
+
+
+1920
+
+(MAUBERLEY)
+
+            I.
+
+TURNED from the "eau-forte
+Par Jaquemart"
+To the strait head
+Of Mcssalina:
+
+"His true Penelope
+Was Flaubert",
+And his tool
+The engraver's
+
+Firmness,
+Not the full smile,
+His art, but an art
+In profile;
+
+Colourless
+Pier Francesca,
+Pisanello lacking the skill
+To forge Achaia.
+
+            II.
+
+     _"Qu'est ce qu'ils savent de l'amour, et
+      gu'est ce qu'ils peuvent comprendre?
+      S'ils ne comprennent pas la poesie,
+      s'ils ne sentent pas la musique, qu'est ce
+      qu'ils peuvent comprendre de cette pas-
+      sion en comparaison avec laquelle la rose
+      est grossiere et le parfum des violettes un
+      tonnerre?"_            CAID ALI
+
+FOR three years, diabolus in the scale,
+He drank ambrosia,
+All passes, ANANGKE prevails,
+Came end, at last, to that Arcadia.
+
+He had moved amid her phantasmagoria,
+Amid her galaxies,
+NUKTIS AGALMA
+
+Drifted....drifted precipitate,
+Asking time to be rid of....
+Of his bewilderment; to designate
+His new found orchid....
+
+To be certain....certain...
+(Amid aerial flowers)..time for arrangements--
+Drifted on
+To the final estrangement;
+
+Unable in the supervening blankness
+To sift TO AGATHON from the chaff
+Until he found his seive...
+Ultimately, his seismograph:
+
+--Given, that is, his urge
+To convey the relation
+Of eye-lid and cheek-bone
+By verbal manifestation;
+
+To present the series
+Of curious heads in medallion--
+
+He had passed, inconscient, full gaze,
+The wide-banded irises
+And botticellian sprays implied
+In their diastasis;
+
+Which anaesthesis, noted a year late,
+And weighed, revealed his great affect,
+(Orchid), mandate
+Of Eros, a retrospect.
+
+            .     .     .
+
+Mouths biting empty air,
+The still stone dogs,
+Caught in metamorphosis were,
+Left him as epilogues.
+
+
+"THE AGE DEMANDED"
+
+VIDE POEM II.
+
+FOR this agility chance found
+Him of all men, unfit
+As the red-beaked steeds of
+The Cytheraean for a chain-bit.
+
+The glow of porcelain
+Brought no reforming sense
+To his perception
+Of the social inconsequence.
+
+Thus, if her colour
+Came against his gaze,
+Tempered as if
+It were through a perfect glaze
+
+He made no immediate application
+Of this to relation of the state
+To the individual, the month was more temperate
+Because this beauty had been
+    ......
+           The coral isle, the lion-coloured sand
+           Burst in upon the porcelain revery:
+           Impetuous troubling
+           Of his imagery.
+    ......
+
+Mildness, amid the neo-Neitzschean clatter,
+His sense of graduations,
+Quite out of place amid
+Resistance to current exacerbations
+
+Invitation, mere invitation to perceptivity
+Gradually led him to the isolation
+Which these presents place
+Under a more tolerant, perhaps, examination.
+
+By constant elimination
+The manifest universe
+Yielded an armour
+Against utter consternation,
+
+A Minoan undulation,
+Seen, we admit, amid ambrosial circumstances
+Strengthened him against
+The discouraging doctrine of chances
+
+And his desire for survival,
+Faint in the most strenuous moods,
+Became an Olympian _apathein_
+In the presence of selected perceptions.
+
+A pale gold, in the aforesaid pattern,
+The unexpected palms
+Destroying, certainly, the artist's urge,
+Left him delighted with the imaginary
+Audition of the phantasmal sea-surge,
+
+Incapable of the least utterance or composition,
+Emendation, conservation of the "better tradition",
+Refinement of medium, elimination of superfluities,
+August attraction or concentration.
+
+Nothing in brief, but maudlin confession
+Irresponse to human aggression,
+Amid the precipitation, down-float
+Of insubstantial manna
+Lifting the faint susurrus
+Of his subjective hosannah.
+
+Ultimate affronts to human redundancies;
+
+Non-esteem of self-styled "his betters"
+Leading, as he well knew,
+To his final
+Exclusion from the world of letters.
+
+
+      IV.
+
+SCATTERED Moluccas
+Not knowing, day to day,
+The first day's end, in the next noon;
+The placid water
+Unbroken by the Simoon;
+
+Thick foliage
+Placid beneath warm suns,
+Tawn fore-shores
+Washed in the cobalt of oblivions;
+
+Or through dawn-mist
+The grey and rose
+Of the juridical
+Flamingoes;
+
+A consciousness disjunct,
+Being but this overblotted
+Series
+Of intermittences;
+
+Coracle of Pacific voyages,
+The unforecasted beach:
+Then on an oar
+Read this:
+
+"I was
+And I no more exist;
+Here drifted
+An hedonist."
+
+
+MEDALLION
+
+LUINI in porcelain!
+The grand piano
+Utters a profane
+Protest with her clear soprano.
+
+The sleek head emerges
+From the gold-yellow frock
+As Anadyomene in the opening
+Pages of Reinach.
+
+Honey-red, closing the face-oval
+A basket-work of braids which seem as if they were
+Spun in King Minos' hall
+From metal, or intractable amber;
+
+The face-oval beneath the glaze,
+Bright in its suave bounding-line, as
+Beneath half-watt rays
+The eyes turn topaz.
+
+
+THIS EDITION OF 200 COPIES IS THE THIRD BOOK
+   OF THE OVID PRESS: WAS PRINTED BY JOHN
+      RODKER: AND COMPLETED APRIL
+              23RD. 1920
+
+OF THIS EDITION:--
+
+15 Copies on Japan Vellum numbered 1-15 & not for sale.
+20 Signed copies numbered 16-35
+165 Unsigned copies numbered 36-200
+
+The initials & colophon by E. Wadsworth.
+
+
+      The . OVID . PRESS
+
+    43 BELSIZE PARK GARDENS
+
+        LONDON N.W.3
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+

passages/pg24673.txt

@@ -0,0 +1,712 @@
+
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Geetu Melwani and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was
+produced from images generously made available by The
+Internet Archive/American Libraries.)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+A PHENOMENAL FAUNA
+
+BY
+
+CAROLYN WELLS
+
+
+WITH PICTURES
+BY
+OLIVER HEREFORD
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+Copyright, 1901, 1902
+By LIFE PUBLISHING COMPANY
+_New York_
+
+
+By ROBERT HOWARD RUSSELL
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+To My Godfather
+WILLIAM F. CLARKE
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+THE REG'LAR LARK
+
+
+The Reg'lar Lark's a very gay old Bird;
+At sunrise often may his voice be heard
+As jauntily he wends his homeward way,
+And trills a fresh and merry roundelay.
+And some old, wise philosopher has said:
+Rise with a lark, and with a lark to bed.
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+THE HUMBUG
+
+
+Although a learned Entomologist
+May doubt if Humbugs really do exist,
+Yet each of us, I'm sure, can truly say
+We've seen a number of them in our day.
+But are they real?--well, a mind judicial
+Perhaps would call them false and artificial.
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+THE POPPYCOCK
+
+
+The Poppycock's a fowl of English breed,
+And therefore many think him fine indeed.
+Credulous people's ears he would regale,
+And so he crows aloud and spreads his tale.
+But he is stuffed with vain and worthless words;
+Fine feathers do not always make fine birds.
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+THE HAYCOCK
+
+
+The Haycock cannot crow; he has no brains,
+No,--not enough to go in when it rains.
+He is not gamy,--fighting's not his forte,
+A Haycock fight is just no sort of sport.
+Down in the meadow all day long he'll bide,
+(That is a little hay-hen by his side.)
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+THE POWDER MONKEY
+
+
+A Theory, by scientists defended,
+Declares that we from monkeys are descended.
+This being thus, we therefore clearly see
+The Powder-Monkey heads some pedigree.
+Ah, yes,--from him descend by evolution,
+The Dames and Daughters of the Revolution.
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+THE TREE CALF
+
+
+The sportive Tree Calf here we see,
+He builds his nest up in a tree;
+To this strange dwelling-place he cleaves
+Because he is so fond of leaves.
+'Twas his ancestral cow, I trow,
+Jumped o'er the moon, so long ago.
+But he is not so great a rover,
+Though at the last he runs to cover.
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+THE MILITARY FROG
+
+
+The Military Frog, as well you know,
+Is the famed one who would a-wooing go.
+And on the soldier's manly breast displayed,
+He wins the heart of every blushing maid.
+But, as a frog, I think he's incomplete,
+He has no good hind legs that we may eat.
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+THE FEATHER BOA
+
+
+This animal of which I speak
+Is a most curious sort of freak.
+Though Serpent would its form describe,
+Yet it is of the feathered tribe.
+And 'tis the snake, I do believe,
+That tempted poor old Mother Eve,
+For never woman did exist
+Who could its subtle charm resist.
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+THE BRICK BAT
+
+
+Oft through the stillness of the summer night
+We see the Brick Bat take his rapid flight.
+And, with unerring aim, descending straight,
+He meets a cat on the back garden gate.
+The little Brick Bat could not fly alone,--
+Oh, no; there is a power behind the thrown.
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+THE CAT O' NINE TAILS
+
+
+The Cat O' Nine Tails is not very nice,--
+No good at all at catching rats and mice;
+She eats no fish, though living on the sea,
+And no one's friend or pet she seems to be.
+Yet oft she makes it lively for poor Jack,--
+Curls round his legs, and jumps upon his back.
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+THE ROUND ROBIN
+
+
+Here's the Round Robin, round as any ball;
+You scarce can see his head or tail at all.
+He's not a carrier-pigeon, though he brings
+Important messages beneath his wings.
+And 'tis this freak of ornithology
+They mean who say, "A little bird told me."
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+THE IRON SPIDER
+
+
+The Iron Spider is an insect strange,
+He loves to stand upon a red-hot range.
+Unlike his race, he's not an octoped,
+He has but three legs and he has no head.
+Had this but been the kind Miss Muffet saw
+'Twould not have filled the maiden with such awe.
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+THE BOOKWORM
+
+
+The Bookworm's an uninteresting grub,
+Whether he's all alone or in a club.
+Of stupid books which seem to us a bore,
+The Bookworm will devour the very core.
+Did Solomon or somebody affirm
+The early reed-bird catches the bookworm?
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+THE BLACK SHEEP
+
+
+The Black Sheep is a beast all men should shun--
+He has no fleece yet fleeces every one;
+Though without horns, oft with a horn he's seen;
+Though not a lamb, he gambles on the green.
+Perhaps he's not a sheep, as some suggest,
+But a grim wolf who's in sheep's clothing dressed.
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+TIME FLIES
+
+
+Time Flies are well-known insects; sages claim
+That Tempus Fugit is their rightful name.
+When we're on idleness or pleasure bent,
+They sting our conscience and our fun prevent.
+We hear them winter mornings ere we rise,
+And oft in fly-time we observe Time Flies.
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+THE APPLE BEE
+
+
+In country villages is found
+The Apple Bee with buzzing sound.
+And when our ears it does regale
+We find a sting is in its tale.
+As to its food,--the Apple Bee
+Is fond of doughnuts, cheese and tea.
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+THE WELSH RABBIT
+
+
+See the Welsh Rabbit--he is bred on cheese;
+(Or cheese on bread, whichever way you please.)
+Although he's tough, he looks so mild, who'd think
+That a strong man from this small beast would shrink?
+But close behind him follows the nightmare,
+Beware of them, they are a frightful pair.
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+THE CRICKET BAT
+
+
+The Cricket Bat is very often seen
+Flying perchance around the village green;
+But unlike many other bats, its flight
+Is always made by day and not by night.
+There may be one exception though,--and that
+Is when it's aimed at some stray neighboring Cat.
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+THE COMMON SWALLOW
+
+
+The Common Swallow is so swift of flight,
+We scarcely see him ere he's out of sight.
+One does not make a summer, it is true,
+But many of them cause a fall or two.
+The Swallow's strong when he is in his prime,
+And yet a man can down him every time.
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+THE TOMAHAWK
+
+
+The Tomahawk's a fearsome bird, we deem;
+Though feathered tribes hold him in great esteem;
+A bird of prey, he whizzes through the air,
+And clutches his pale victim by the hair.
+Gory and grewsome,--he is the mainstay
+Of the historic novel of to-day.
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+THE JAIL-BIRD
+
+
+This is a Jail-bird. Isn't it a shame
+To keep him in a cage and try to tame
+His wild desires for freedom? See him droop
+Behind his bars. He wants to fly the coop.
+But to beguile his tedious, lonely hours
+Kind ladies bring him nosegays of bright flowers.
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+THE ROYAL SEAL
+
+
+This noble beast's impressive form is seen
+'Mong the possessions of a king or queen.
+Hard-favored, yet so valuable is he,
+He's ever kept beneath a lock and key.
+And, since his temper can't find vent in speech,
+He stamps and punches everything in reach.
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+
+THE FIRE DOGS
+
+
+Here are two Fire Dogs--they are queer, indeed;
+They seem to come of a three-legged breed.
+They have no tails, their bark is on their back;
+They hunt in couples, never in a pack.
+The day's work over, 'tis a pleasant sight
+To find them waiting by the fire at night.
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+THE MACKEREL KIT
+
+
+This funny little Mackerel Kit
+Is not like other cats a bit;
+She cannot mew or scratch or purr,
+She has no whiskers and no fur.
+Yet, like all cats, her dearest wish
+Is just to be filled up with fish;
+But (and this isn't so feline)
+She always takes them steeped in brine.
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+GOLF LYNX
+
+
+This is the merry Golf Lynx, as you see;
+An amiable beast, and fond of tee.
+Indigenous to all the country round,
+His snaky length lies prone along the ground.
+It is the fashion o'er this beast to rave,
+But have a care, lest you become his slave.
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+THE TRAVELING CRANE
+
+
+The Traveling Crane's a bird, of course,
+Yet he possesses wondrous force.
+A bird of burden he must be,
+He lifts and pulls so mightily.
+And sometimes he will grasp his prey,
+And with it rise and soar away.
+His plumage is not fine, but then,
+He's of the greatest use to men.
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+THE FLYING BUTTRESS
+
+
+The Flying Buttress, every day and night,
+Continues in his long, unwearied flight.
+He's not a song-bird, but he's said to be
+Famed for his beauty and his Symmetry.
+He frequents an old abbey or a manse;
+The ostrich eats him if he gets a chance.
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+THE SEA PUSS
+
+
+In ocean waters the Sea Puss is found,
+Cat-like, forever chasing round and round.
+She has no claws, but crouching sly and low
+She stealthily puts out her undertow.
+And when an old seadog comes in her way
+I'll warrant you there is the deuce to pay!
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+THE BATTERING RAM
+
+
+This is the Battering Ram, a fearful beast,
+I think he weighs a thousand tons at least.
+Stronger than any other kind of butter,
+He goes his way calmly, without a flutter.
+Big as an elephant, bigger than a horse,
+He seems the best example of brute force.
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+THE SPRING CHICKEN
+
+
+Here's the Spring Chicken. I have heard
+They manufacture this queer bird
+From bits of leather and of strings
+All joined and worked by tiny springs.
+Whenever this fine fowl is broiled,
+Each of his springs should be well oiled,
+Or he may spring across the room
+And plunge his carver into gloom.
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+THE SHUTTLECOCK
+
+
+The Shuttlecock's a handsome fowl to see,
+His feathers grow straight upward like a tree.
+He cannot crow, but oftentimes his flight
+Will reach up to a most astounding height.
+He is a gamecock, and, in fighting trim,
+There are not many birds that equal him.
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+THE SAW-BUCK
+
+
+The Saw-Buck is a fearsome beast.
+The tramp objects to it, at least.
+When to the housewife he applies
+For coffee or for apple-pies,
+Right speedily he'll turn and leave her
+When he is seized with Saw-Buck Fever.
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+THE PIGEON TOAD
+
+
+The Pigeon Toad's a funny little beast,
+He's found in every land from West to East.
+The children bring him in, to our amaze,
+And though we try to turn him out, he stays.
+He's never seen with soldiers, nor with fops,
+But with the schoolboys how he jumps and hops.
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+THE GOLDEN BUCK
+
+
+Perhaps because it's easily approached,
+The Golden Buck's a game that's often poached.
+'Tis sometimes mild, again 'tis strong and hearty,
+It may be found at many a gay stag-party.
+No branching antlers this strange beast adorn,
+But with the Golden Buck we take a horn.
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+THE BUMBLE PUPPY
+
+
+This is the Bumblepuppy. He's quite tame,
+Although he's said to be a sort of game.
+You scorn him, yet you must--ah, there's the rub--
+Accept him at your table or your club.
+He has his points, yet he's a pest, indeed;
+I would we could exterminate the breed.
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+THE WATCH DOG
+
+
+This useful animal we keep
+To guard our treasure while we sleep.
+A pointer, not a setter, yet
+He's of no use unless he's set.
+Gaze on his open, honest face,--
+There's no deception in his case.
+He is attached to us, 'tis plain,
+Though often by a slender chain.
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+THE GOLD EAGLE
+
+
+Here's the Gold Eagle. Very rare. They say
+This bird is worth ten dollars any day.
+He has no wings, apparently, yet I
+Or you, or anyone can make him fly.
+He's very powerful--held in great esteem;
+And money talks, so let the eagle scream.
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+THE BUGBEAR
+
+
+Of all the fearsome beasts beneath the sun
+The Bugbear is the most appalling one.
+At night he comes and hovers o'er our bed,
+Filling us with a nameless fear and dread.
+He is not half so terrible by day--
+Sometimes he shrinks and dwindles quite away.
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+THE IRISH BULL
+
+
+Among the stock jokes it is oft averred
+The Irish Bull is best of all the heard.
+He has no points, he has no head or tail,
+But many a jovial party he'll regale.
+And all his hearers will with laughter choke,
+Except his brother John, who sees no joke.
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+THE JAY
+
+
+'Tis very strange, and yet, upon my word,
+This silly fellow thinks he is a bird!
+He lives on hayseed,--everywhere he's found,
+But in the country he does most abound.
+And at the approach of winter, (more's the pity),
+A flock of jays will migrate to the city.
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+FOREBEARS
+
+
+Misled by certain signs of form and shape,
+Some think we are descended from the ape.
+But recent science now the truth declares
+The human race descended from Forebears.
+And since we're so inclined to war, I'll wager
+One of our Forebears was the Ursa Major.
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration]
+
+THE HIGH HORSE
+
+
+The High Horse often takes a foremost place
+Among the winners of the human race.
+They say one needs both brawn and brain to ride him,
+And even then 'tis very hard to guide him.
+His jockeys gaily prance and boldly scoff,
+But soon or late they're sure to tumble off.
+
+
+The End.
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Books By
+
+CAROLYN WELLS
+
+Children of Our Town
+Abeniki Caldwell
+The Merry-Go-Round
+A Phenomenal Fauna
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+

passages/pg25634.txt

@@ -0,0 +1,568 @@
+
+
+
+
+
+Produced by K. Nordquist, Jacqueline Jeremy and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
+file was produced from images generously made available
+by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+    Christmas
+    Roses
+
+    by
+
+    Lizzie Lawson
+
+    and
+
+    Robert Ellice Mack.
+
+    [Illustration]
+
+    London:
+    Griffith, Farran & Company
+    St. Paul's Churchyard.
+
+
+
+
+    [Illustration: CHRISTMAS ROSES]
+
+    [Illustration]
+
+    _A BUNCH_ of Christmas Roses, dear,
+      To greet my fairest child,
+    I plucked them in my garden where
+      The drifting snow lay piled.
+
+    I cannot bring thee violets dear,
+      Or cowslips growing wild,
+    Or daisy chain for thee to wear,
+      For thee to wear, my child.
+
+    For all the grassy meadows near
+      Are clad with snow, my child;
+    Through all the days of winter drear
+      No ray of sun has smiled.
+
+    I plucked this bunch of verses, dear,
+      From out my garden wild,
+    I plucked them in the winter drear
+      For you, my fairest child,
+    Your wet and wintry hours to cheer,
+      They're Christmas Roses, child.
+
+
+
+
+    [Illustration]
+
+    _THE CHRISTMAS STOCKING._
+
+    "_I DON'T_ believe that Santa Claus will come to you and me,"
+    Said little crippled Nell, "a'cause, we are so poor you see;
+    And then I don't believe the 'chimbley's' wide enough for him,
+    D'ye think that Santa Claus will come, when all the lights are dim."
+    "Of course he comes to every one, dear, whether rich or poor;
+    Now go to bed dear Nell," said Nan, "he'll come to-night I'm sure."
+
+           *       *       *       *       *
+
+    I don't know if by chimney or if by stair he crept,
+    But sure enough he visited the room where Nelly slept.
+    He brought a golden orange, and a monkey red and blue,
+    That climbed a little wooden stick in a way I couldn't do.
+    He hung them in Nell's stocking, and Nan was right, be sure,
+    That Santa Claus loves every one however rich or poor.
+
+
+
+
+    [Illustration]
+
+    _THE PET RABBIT._
+
+    "_I HAVE_ a little Bunny with a coat as soft as down,
+    And nearly all of him is white except one bit of brown.
+    The first thing in the morning when I get out of bed,
+    I wonder if my Bunny's still safe in his little shed.
+
+    And than the next thing that I do I dare say you have guessed;
+    It's to go at once and see him, when I am washed and dressed.
+    And every day I see him I like him more and more,
+    And each day he is bigger than he was the day before.
+
+    I feed him in the morning with bran and bits of bread,
+    And every night I take some straw to make his little bed.
+    What with carrots in the morning and turnip-tops for tea,
+    If a bunny can be happy, I'm sure he ought to be.
+
+    Then when it's nearly bedtime I go down to his shed,
+    And say 'Good night you Bunny' before I go to bed.
+    I think there's only one thing that would make me happy quite,
+    If I could take my Bunny dear with me to bed at night?"
+
+    [Illustration: THE PET RABBIT.]
+
+
+
+
+    [Illustration]
+
+    FATHER'S BOAT.
+
+    _IT'S_ Father's boat we're watching,
+          Away out on the sea,
+    She's named the Pretty Polly,
+          One hundred and ninety three,
+    Father called her the Polly,
+          After Mother and me.
+
+    There isn't a smarter boat
+          Than Father's on the sea,
+    The Pretty Polly is _our_ ship,
+          Father's the skipper is he,
+    And we are watching for Father,
+          We're watching, Nancy and me.
+
+    Sometimes the wind blows wildly,
+          But Nancy, and Mother, and me,
+    We sing a bit of a hymn we know,
+          The hymn for those at sea,
+    Although when we think of Father,
+          We're as near to choke as can be.
+
+    To-night the moon will be shining,
+          A sight it will be to see,
+    Father's ship all in silver,
+          A'sail on a silver sea,
+    And Father himself a coming home
+          To Mother and Nancy and me.
+
+    [Illustration: FATHER'S BOAT.]
+
+
+
+
+    [Illustration]
+
+    _A MISTAKE._
+
+    "_MY_ dears, whatever are you at?
+      You ought to be at home;
+    I told you not to wet your feet--
+      I told you not to roam.
+
+    "Oh, dear! I'm sure you will be drowned!
+      _I_ never saw such tricks
+    Come home at once, and go to bed,
+      You naughty naughty chicks."
+
+    Now most of them were five days old,
+      But one, whose age was six--
+    "Please, ma'am," said he, "I think we're ducks;
+      I don't believe we're chicks!"
+
+    [Illustration: LITTLE DUCKS.]
+
+
+
+
+    [Illustration]
+
+    _A SAD TALE._
+
+    "_Who's_ afraid of a cat?" said he;
+      "I'm not afraid of a cat."
+        He was a bird who sat on a rail,
+      With five other birds, and this was his tale.
+        "I'm not afraid of a cat."
+
+    "I _might_ be afraid if I were a mouse,
+      Or even if I were a rat:
+        But as I'm a bird
+        I give you my word
+      I'm not afraid of a cat."
+
+    A cat and her kits came down on the scene,
+      Five birds flew over the rail;
+        Our hero was caught
+        As quick as a thought,
+      And didn't he alter his tale!
+
+    "You've made a mistake, Mister Cat," said he;
+      "You must please let me go, Mister Cat.
+        I'm not at all nice,
+        I don't taste like mice:
+      You'd much better have a young rat."
+        Said the cat, "It's no use,
+        You may be a goose,
+      I'll not let you go for all that."
+
+
+
+
+    _THE CREW OF THE NANCY LEE._
+
+    [Illustration]
+
+    _Polly's_ the mate of the Nancy Lee,
+      And Tom is the skipper bold,
+        They sail together
+        In rough wind and weather,
+      And they are the crew, all told.
+
+      In their taut and trim little boat they ride
+    Away o'er the bright blue sea,
+        With hands ever ready,
+        And hearts ever steady,
+    Whatever the dangers may be.
+    And a smarter crew will never be found,
+    Though you may search the whole world round.
+
+
+
+
+    [Illustration: HIE FOR CHRISTMAS.]
+
+    _HIE FOR CHRISTMAS!_
+
+    _Bring_ Frost, bring Snow,
+          Come winter,
+          Bring us holly,
+    Bring joy at Christmas,
+          Off with Melancholy!
+
+    Sing hie, sing hey,
+          Sing ho,
+          Sing holly,
+    Sing hie for Christmas!
+          Isn't winter jolly?
+
+    Sing Jack, Sing Jill,
+          Sing Jo,
+          Sing Polly,
+    Sing hie for Christmas,
+          Mistletoe and Holly.
+
+
+
+
+    [Illustration: PUTTING AWAY THE TOYS.]
+
+    [Illustration]
+
+    _BEDTIME._
+
+    "_It's_ bedtime, bedtime, Cissy dear,
+      It's time to put away,
+    Your little Noah's ark dear
+      Until another day,
+    You know it isn't right at all
+      To tire yourself with play.
+
+    And they too must be tired dear,
+      The elephants want to go
+    To bed,--if they're much later,
+      They'll all be ill I know,
+    And every well bred camel,
+      Is in bed long ago.
+
+    And surely you can see dear,
+      It really isn't right,
+    The little dove's so tired dear,
+      She scarce can stand upright.
+    It does not do to keep them up
+      So very late at night."
+
+
+
+
+    [Illustration]
+
+    _PUSS IN THE CORNER._
+
+    "_You_ are a naughty pussy-cat,
+    I think it right to mention that,
+    To all who see your picture here,
+    'Twas you who broke my Bunny dear.
+
+    An hour ago, as you can tell,
+    I left him here, alive and well;
+    And now he's _dead_ and, what is more,
+    You've broke his leg I'm pretty sure.
+
+    For you my puss I'll never care,
+    No never, never, never, _there_,
+    And you are in disgrace you know,
+    And in the corner you must go.
+
+    What crying? Then I must cry too
+    And I can't bear to punish you;
+    Perhaps my Bunny isn't dead,
+    Perhaps you've only stunned his head.
+
+    And though I'm sure you broke his leg,
+    It may be mended with a peg,
+    And though he's very, very, funny,
+    My Bunny's not a real Bunny,
+    And I'll forgive and tell you that,
+    You're my own precious pussy cat."
+
+    [Illustration: PUSS IN THE CORNER.]
+
+
+
+
+    [Illustration]
+
+    _THE LITTLE HE AND SHE._
+
+    _Once_ there lived, I'm not sure where,
+      May be Arcadee,
+    Sweet-Heart and his mistress fair,
+      Little He and She;
+
+    And they danced a measure light,
+      Danced in very glee.
+    Hand in hand, a pretty sight,
+      Little He and She.
+
+    When they ceased his bright eyes fell,
+      Darling must we stay?
+    Can't we dance so happily
+      You and I for aye?
+
+    Then she clasped his hand again,
+      Whispered sweet and low,
+    "Dearest, always hand in hand
+      You and I will go."
+
+    So they danced with merry feet,
+      E'en in Arcadee,
+    Happier pair you ne'er will meet,
+      Little He and She.
+
+
+
+
+    [Illustration]
+
+    _LITTLE BO-PEEP._
+
+    _Little_ Bo-peep has lost her Sheep,
+    (It's a secret to you I'm confiding.)
+    At the end of the shelf,
+    Where she put them herself,
+    Her Baa-lambs are safely hiding.
+
+    If you put a thing carefully, safely away,
+    You're sure not to find it when wanted next day.
+
+
+
+
+    [Illustration: HOPES AND FEARS.]
+
+    [Illustration]
+
+    _HOPES AND FEARS._
+
+    _Like_ clouds that flit across the sky,
+      So follow hopes and fears.
+    What in these clouds see you and me
+      Dear Sweetheart, smiles or tears?
+
+    This little airy fleecy wing,
+      That flits across the blue,
+    What message Sweetheart does it bring
+      Of hope or fear to you?
+
+    Pray God it brings you _sunny hours_
+      And haply some few _tears_
+    To bless like showers your summer flowers
+      In the long coming years.
+
+
+
+
+    [Illustration]
+
+    _THE STORY BOOK FAIRY._
+
+      _Shall_ I sing you a song, not short and not long,
+      Of a story-book fairy who hides all among
+      The covers and leaves of your pictures and prints,
+      And colors them all with such beautiful tints?
+
+    First he kisses the girls with the fairest of curls
+    Then they blush like red roses and each head whirls.
+    In each little eye drops a bit of blue sky,
+    And colors each frock with a wonderful dye.
+
+      His breathing I ween is the wonderful sheen,
+      That clothes trees and meadows with loveliest green,
+      The buttercups bold, it need hardly be told,
+      Are gilded by him with the finest of gold.
+
+      It is he I suppose who paints the red rose,
+      And the rest of the flowers which every one knows,
+      And the same red will do (or a similar hue),
+      For Robin and little Red Riding Hood too.
+
+      He's awake it is said when you are abed,
+      For the picture-book doggies and cats must be fed,
+      To the picture-book children some stories he'll tell,
+      And sometimes he'll read them their verses as well.
+
+      The moment you open your picture book he
+      Is away out of sight as quick as can be,
+      For fairy law says that a fairy must die
+      The instant he's seen by one human eye.
+
+
+
+
+    _SPRING._
+
+    _The_ tiny crocus is so bold
+        It peeps its head above the mould,
+        Before the flowers awaken,
+    To say that spring is coming, dear,
+    With sunshine and that winter drear
+        Will soon be overtaken.
+
+    [Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+    [Illustration]
+
+    _GOLDEN DAYS._
+
+    _There_ are days of summer sunshine,
+      Of warm and sunny weather,
+    When the hedge is full of hawthorn
+      And hills are glad with heather.
+
+    There are days of silent sadness,
+      Of frost, and snow, and rain,
+    When we fear that summer's gladness
+      Will never come again.
+
+    And now our songs are minor key,
+      And now in merry tune;
+    The windward side will change to lee,
+      And January to June.
+
+    Day and night the sun is shining,
+      Though he may hide his head;
+    Each cloud has a silver lining,
+      The flowers are asleep not dead.
+
+    Every day may have its playtime
+      Made bright by cheerful lays;
+    And life be one long Maytime,
+      A year of golden days.
+
+    [Illustration: GOLDEN DAYS.]
+
+
+
+
+    [Illustration]
+
+    _A SLANDER._
+
+    "_Shake_ hands, shake hands my little girl,"
+      Said Mister Crab to Nell,
+    "I'm very glad to meet you dear,
+      I hope you are quite well.
+    I think it's very hot to-day,
+      I feel it in my shell."
+
+    "I can't shake hands with you," said Nell,
+      "It isn't thought polite,
+    Without an introduction;
+      Besides, no doubt it's spite,
+    It mayn't be true, but still they do,
+      They do say that you--BITE."
+
+
+
+
+    [Illustration]
+
+    _A SONG._
+
+    I _hear_ a Song
+      I think 'tis a thrush's.
+    He sings to the Wild Rose
+      See how she blushes!
+
+    [Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+    [Illustration: THE EVENING HOUR.]
+
+    [Illustration]
+
+    _NEARLY BEDTIME._
+
+    _Only_ half an hour or so
+      Before nurse calls them to bed,
+    And the ruddy light of a cheerful fire
+      Shines over each curly head.
+
+    No trouble have they, no sorrow--
+      Their hearts are lighter than air,
+    No fear that a dark to-morrow
+      May bring with it want or care.
+
+    God send them each on their pathway
+      Many a wayside flower;
+    And grant, in the evening of lifetime,
+      The joy of the evening hour.
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+    [Illustration]
+
+    Lithographed
+    and
+    printed by
+    Ernest Nister
+    of Nuremberg.
+
+
+    +-----------------------------------------+
+    |Transcriber's Note:                      |
+    |                                         |
+    |In the first line of the second verse of |
+    |The Pet Rabbit "than" has been changed to|
+    |"then". An apostrophe has been added to  |
+    |the title of "Father's Boat" and a hyphen|
+    |added to "to-night".                     |
+    +-----------------------------------------+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+

passages/pg2589.txt

@@ -0,0 +1,302 @@
+
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Faith Matievich
+
+
+
+
+
+THE EXPERIENCES OF A BANDMASTER
+
+By John Philip Sousa
+
+
+During eighteen years spent in playing music for the masses, twelve
+years in the service of the United States and six in that of the general
+public, many curious and interesting incidents have come under my
+observation.
+
+While conductor of the Marine Band, which plays at all the state
+functions given by the President at the Executive Mansion, I saw much
+of the social life of the White House and was brought into more or less
+direct contact with all the executives under whom I had the honor of
+successively serving--Presidents Hayes, Garfield, Arthur, Cleveland and
+Harrison.
+
+They were all very appreciative of music, and in this respect were quite
+unlike General Grant, of whom it is said that he knew only two tunes,
+one of which was "Yankee Doodle" and the other wasn't!
+
+
+
+
+The President's Embarrassing Demand.
+
+I think I may say that more than one President, relieved from the
+onerous duties of a great reception, has found rest by sitting quietly
+in the corner of a convenient room and listening to the music.
+
+Once, on the occasion of a state dinner, President Arthur came to the
+door of the main lobby of the White House, where the Marine Band was
+always stationed, and beckoning me to his side asked me to play the
+"Cachuca." When I explained that we did not have the music with us but
+would be glad to include it in the next programme, the President looked
+surprised and remarked:
+
+"Why, Sousa, I thought you could play anything. I'm sure you can; now
+give us the 'Cachuca.'"
+
+This placed me in a predicament, as I did not wish the President to
+believe that the band was not at all times able to respond to his
+wishes. Fortunately, one of the bandmen remembered the melody and played
+it over softly to me on his cornet in a corner. I hastily wrote out
+several parts for the leading instruments, and told the rest of the band
+to vamp in the key of E flat. Then we played the "Cachuca" to the entire
+satisfaction of Mr. Arthur, who came again to the door and said: "There,
+I knew you could play it."
+
+The ladies of the White House were always interested in the music, and
+frequently suggested selections for the programmes, Mrs. Hayes being
+particularly fond of American ballads. During the brief Garfield
+administration there were no state receptions or dinners given by the
+President, and the band did not play at the White House, except for a
+few of Mrs. Garfield's receptions immediately after the inauguration.
+While Mrs. McElroy was mistress of the Executive Mansion for her
+brother, President Arthur, the lighter music was much in favor, as there
+were always many young people at the Mansion.
+
+Miss Rose Elizabeth Cleveland was much interested in music, and evinced
+a partiality for Arthur Sullivan's melodies. Mrs. Harrison's favorite
+music was Nevin's "Good Night, Beloved" and the Sousa marches. The
+soundness of Mrs. Cleveland's musical taste was shown by her liking for
+the "Tannhauser" overture and other music of that character.
+
+The Marine Band played all the music for President Cleveland's wedding,
+which took place in the Blue Room of the White House. The distance from
+the room up-stairs to the exact spot where the ceremony was to take
+place was carefully measured by Colonel Lamont and myself, in order
+that the music might be timed to the precise number of steps the wedding
+party would have to take; and the climax of the Mendelssohn "Wedding
+March" was played by the band just as the bride and groom reached the
+clergyman.
+
+
+
+
+President Cleveland's Veto.
+
+A few days before the ceremony I submitted my musical programme to
+Colonel Lamont for the President's approval, and among the numbers was a
+quartet called "The Student of Love," from one of my operas. Even in
+the anticipation of his happiness Mr. Cleveland was keenly alive to
+the opportunities for humorous remarks which this title might afford to
+irreverent newspaper men; and he said to his secretary: "Tell Sousa
+he can play that quartet, but he had better omit the name of it."
+Accordingly, "The Student of Love" was conspicuous by its absence.
+
+When North Carolina celebrated its centenary, the Marine Band was
+ordered to Fayetteville to participate in the ceremonies. The little
+Southern town was much interested in the advent of the "President's
+Band," and the prevailing opinion was that "Dixie" would be tabooed
+music with us. Before the exercises a local committee waited upon me and
+intimated that "Dixie" was a popular melody in that vicinity.
+
+"Of course," said the spokesman, "we don't want you to play anything
+you don't want to, but please remember, sir, that we are very fond of
+'Dixie' here."
+
+Bowing gravely, I thanked the committee for their interest in my
+programme, but left them completely in the dark as to whether I intended
+to play the loved song of the South or not.
+
+"Dixie," by the President's Band.
+
+The ceremonies opened with a patriotic address by Governor Fowle,
+lauding the glories of the American flag and naturally the only
+appropriate music to such a sentiment was "The Star-Spangled Banner,"
+which the crowd patriotically cheered.
+
+The tone of the succeeding oration was equally fervid, but the speaker
+enlarged upon the glories of the Commonwealth whose one hundredth
+anniversary was being celebrated. The orator sat down, there was a
+momentary pause, and then as I raised my baton the strains of "Dixie"
+fell upon the delighted ears of the thousands round the platform.
+
+The unexpected had happened, and such a shout as went up from that
+throng I have never heard equaled. Hats were tossed in the air,
+gray-bearded men embraced, and for a few minutes a jubilant pandemonium
+reigned supreme. During the rest of our stay in Fayetteville
+the repertoire of the Marine Band was on this order: "Yankee
+Doodle,"--"Dixie;" "Star-Spangled Banner,"--"Dixie;" "Red, White and
+Blue,"--"Dixie."
+
+In all my experience the acme of patriotic fervor was reached during
+a reunion of the Loyal Legion at Philadelphia some years ago. The
+exercises were held in the Academy of Music, and the band occupied
+the orchestra pit in front of the stage, which was crowded with
+distinguished veterans.
+
+I had strung together for the occasion a number of war-songs,
+bugle-calls and patriotic airs, and when the band played them the
+martial spirit began to stir the people. As we broke into "Marching
+Through Georgia," a distinguished-looking old soldier stepped to the
+foot-lights and began to sing the familiar words of the famous song in
+a loud, clear voice. The entire audience joined in, and as the swelling
+volume of melody rolled through the house, the enthusiasm waxed more
+intense.
+
+Verse after verse was sung, interrupted with frantic cheers, until it
+seemed that the very ecstasy of enthusiasm had been reached. It was
+only when physically exhausted that the audience calmed down and the
+exercises proceeded.
+
+
+
+
+A Chorus of Ten Thousand.
+
+During the World's Fair at Chicago my present band was giving nightly
+concerts in the Court of Honor surrounding the lagoon. On one beautiful
+night in June fully ten thousand people were gathered round the
+bandstand while we were playing a medley of popular songs.
+
+Director Tomlins, of the World's Fair Choral Associations, was on the
+stand, and exclaiming, "Keep that up, Sousa!" he turned to the crowd and
+motioned the people to join him in singing. With the background of the
+stately buildings of the White City, this mighty chorus, led by the
+band, sang the songs of the people-"Home, Sweet Home," "Suwanee River,"
+"Annie Laurie," "My Old Kentucky Home," etc., and never did the familiar
+melodies sound so grandly beautiful.
+
+The influence of music to quiet disorder and to allay fear is quite as
+potent as its power to excite and to stir enthusiasm. A case in point
+happened at the St. Louis Exposition, where my band was giving a series
+of concerts. There was an enormous audience in the music hall when, in
+the middle of the programme, every electric light suddenly went out,
+leaving the house in complete darkness.
+
+A succession of sharp cries from women, the hasty shuffling of feet, and
+the nervous tension manifest in every one, gave proof that a panic was
+probably imminent. I called softly to the band, "Yankee Doodle!" and the
+men quickly responded by playing the good old tune from memory in the
+darkness, quickly following it with "Dixie" on my orders. The audience
+began to quiet down, and some scattering applause gave assurance that
+the excitement was abating.
+
+"The Star-Spangled Banner" still further restored confidence, and when
+we played "Oh Dear, What Can the Matter Be?" and "Wait Till The Clouds
+Roll By," every one was laughing and making the best of the gloom. In
+a short time the gas was turned on, and the concert proceeded with
+adequate lighting.
+
+
+In the desire to do especial honor to a certain foreign representative
+during the World's Fair, I had a particular piece of music in which
+he was interested arranged for my band, and agreed to play it at a
+specified concert. The music was given to a member of the band with
+instructions to copy the parts and deliver them at the band-stand.
+
+The foreign gentleman was present at the concert with a large party of
+friends, whom he had invited to hear this particular piece of music.
+When the librarian asked the musician for the parts, he could not find
+them, and a search high and low for the missing music was without
+avail. Much to my chagrin, it was necessary to omit the number and send
+explanations and regrets to the dignitary whom it was designed to honor.
+
+At the end of the concert, when the men were packing to go home, the
+player found the missing band parts stuck in the bell of his instrument,
+where he had placed them for safe-keeping.
+
+
+In a little Michigan town my band was booked for an afternoon concert,
+and on our arrival the local manager assured us that we should have a
+good house, although there was no advance sale. He explained this by
+saying that the townspeople did not like to buy their tickets until the
+last minute.
+
+The theatre was on the second floor of the town hall, the ground floor
+being given over to the fire department, the especial pride of the
+community. Twenty minutes before the concert a large crowd had gathered
+round the box-office to buy tickets when the fire-alarm sounded, and the
+entire population promptly deserted the muse of music and escorted the
+engine and hose-cart to the scene of action, leaving the band absolutely
+without an audience.
+
+
+
+
+A Tuneful Locomotive.
+
+Once when we were playing during warm weather in a theatre situated near
+a railroad, the windows were left open for ventilation. The band
+was rendering a Wagner selection, and at the climax was playing with
+increasing force. The last note to be played was a unison B flat, and
+as I gave the sign to the musicians to play as strong as possible the
+volume of sound that followed fairly astonished me. I had never heard
+fifty men play with such force before and could not account for it, but
+the explanation soon became manifest. As the band ceased playing,
+the same note continued in the blast of a passing locomotive that had
+opportunely chimed in with us in unison.
+
+
+The Marine Band was once doing escort duty on Pennsylvania Avenue in
+Washington to a body of citizen soldiery returning from camp. It was
+at night and the parade was preceded by a wagon-load of fireworks which
+were to be discharged at appropriate intervals along the line of march.
+
+By some accident or design the entire load of pyrotechnics was
+simultaneously ignited, and the street immediately filled with a perfect
+fusillade of rockets and Roman candles.
+
+A stampede followed and the parade faded away. I stood my ground
+until my eye-glasses were knocked off, and then I groped my way to the
+sidewalk. When the confusion had subsided, all that could be discovered
+of my band was the drum-major in front and the bass-drummer in the rear
+rank. Their comrades had fled, but these men were good soldiers, and
+having received no orders to disperse had stood their ground manfully.
+
+
+
+
+A Tale of the White House
+
+One more story of the White House. At the time of the unveiling of the
+statue of Admiral Farragut in Washington, it was suddenly proposed
+to have a reception at the Executive Mansion in honor of the many
+distinguished visitors. The informal invitations were issued while I was
+participating in the parade that was part of the ceremonies.
+
+At seven o-clock in the evening, when I was at home, tired out after
+the long march, word came to me to report at the Marine Barracks. I
+went there and was ordered to take the band to the White House at eight
+o'clock p.m.
+
+The bandmen did not live in barracks, and it was practically impossible
+to get them together at that time of night, as they were scattered all
+over the city.
+
+"Well, those are my instructions and those are your orders," said the
+commanding officer.
+
+So we sent the band-messengers out to the men's lodgings, and they found
+just one musician at home, and he was the bass-drummer.
+
+At eight o'clock, arrayed in all the gorgeousness of my scarlet and gold
+uniform, I sat in front of the band platform in the White House lobby,
+and the bass-drummer stationed himself back in the semi-obscurity of his
+corner. There was a dazzling array of music-stands and empty chairs, but
+no musicians! The President evidently saw the humorous side of it, and
+when I explained the situation he said it could not be helped. All the
+evening we sat there and listened to humorous remarks from the guests.
+We had "reported for duty," though, and the drummer and I stayed till
+the reception was over.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+

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+
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Jason Isbell, Christine D. and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+  CHILDREN OF OUR TOWN
+
+  BY E. MARS AND M. H. SQUIRE
+
+  WITH VERSES BY
+  CAROLYN WELLS
+
+
+  [Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+  CHILDREN OF OUR TOWN
+
+  [Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+  CHILDREN
+  OF OUR
+  TOWN
+
+  PICTURED BY
+  E. MARS AND M. H. SQUIRE
+
+  WITH VERSES BY
+  CAROLYN WELLS
+
+  PUBLISHED BY
+  R. H. RUSSELL
+  NEW YORK
+
+  Copyright, 1902, by
+  ROBERT HOWARD RUSSELL
+
+
+
+
+  FLYING KITES
+
+
+  A blustering windy day's just right
+  For boys who want to fly a kite;
+  And it affords the greatest joy
+  To make and use the pretty toy.
+
+    But Aged Duffers, do not try
+    A large-sized paper kite to fly;
+    You could not manage tail or string,
+    And ten to one you'd spoil the thing.
+
+
+
+
+  BOATS ON THE LAKE
+
+
+  A morning full of happiness any boy may find
+  By sailing boats upon the lake, if he is so inclined;
+  The wind it drives them out to sea, he pulls them back, and then
+  They jerk and struggle to be free--away they go again!
+  They wibble-wobble as they sail, and sometimes they upset,--
+  Of course he reaches out for them,--of course he gets quite wet.
+
+  But Aged Grandsires, if you must sail boats in Central Park,
+  Play properly, don't splash yourself, and run back home ere dark.
+
+
+
+
+  AT CONEY ISLAND
+
+
+  See proud Belinda smartly dressed
+  In all her flaunting Sunday best;
+  With muslin hat and ruffles big
+  She cannot comfortably dig.
+
+    Ask her if she would like to play,--
+    She will not answer either way;
+    She'll only shake herself, and then,
+    Just pout and grin and pout again.
+
+  Dear Grandams, meekly learn from this,
+  How very ill-advised it is
+  To don a costume fine and grand
+  When you go playing in the sand.
+
+    Instead of your bespangled net,
+    Or moire velvet edged with jet,
+    Just wear a gingham, simply made,
+    So you can tuck it up and wade.
+
+
+
+
+  IN CENTRAL PARK
+
+
+  In Central Park, along the Mall,
+  We see the gay goat-carriage crawl;
+  With little boys and girls inside,
+  Enjoying their exciting ride.
+
+    Right willingly each nimble steed
+    Exerts his very utmost speed;
+    And o'er the smooth hard road they race
+    At something like a turtle's pace.
+
+      But stout old men and portly dames,
+      Pray, do not urge your rightful claims;
+      And even though you have the price,
+      Listen, I beg, to my advice.
+
+        Do not insist on getting in
+        The little carriage for a spin;
+        You'd not look picturesque at all
+        Careering up and down the Mall.
+
+
+
+
+  THE FIRST OF APRIL
+
+
+  'Tis taught by philosophic schools
+  The human race is mostly fools.
+  And once a year you see this truth
+  Ably set forth by jocund youth,
+  Who broach the tenets of the creed
+  Plainly that he who runs may read.
+
+    But Aged Idiots, 'tis not meet
+    For you to run along the street,
+    And with a manner bold and sly
+    Pin tags on ladies passing by,
+    Or sit upon the curb and look
+    For fools to snatch your pocket-book.
+
+
+
+
+  PLEBEIAN
+
+
+  Lucinda's tastes are so depraved;
+      She likes to play and romp
+  With children poor and ill-behaved,
+      Who boast no style or pomp.
+
+      Their costumes are not quite correct,
+          They have no pretty tricks;
+      Lucinda! pray be more select,
+          In higher circles mix.
+
+
+
+
+  PATRICIAN
+
+
+  Ah, sweet Lucinda, best of girls,
+      How quick to take advice.
+  Behold her with unpapered curls,
+      And frock so rich and nice!
+
+      Her haughty stare! Who would suppose
+          That dress would change her so
+      Oh, blessed influence of fine clothes,
+          How much to thee we owe!
+
+
+
+
+  QUARRELSOMENESS
+
+
+  Dear lady-readers of whatever age,
+  Look backward and with me enjoy this page.
+  What happy moments have we often spent
+  Thus to our frenzied anger giving vent.
+  Ah, me, the long-lost joys of being young!
+  To make up faces, and stick out one's tongue;
+  How those occasions of Xantippish strife
+  Gave zip and zest to our dull childish life.
+
+
+
+
+  THE ETERNAL FEMININE
+
+
+  Ah, truly, as the tree is bent the tiny twig's inclined,
+      And in the very littlest girls we see
+  The contradictious tendencies of woman's wayward mind
+      Developed to a marvellous degree.
+  For each small daughter of her mother
+  Will say one thing and do the other.
+
+      For instance, when some little girls just hate to go to school
+          And beg that they may stay at home and play;
+      And then, permission given, these same children, as a rule,
+          Delight in _playing school_ the livelong day!
+      Ah, no wonder poets feature
+      Woman as a captious creature.
+
+
+
+
+  WISTFULNESS
+
+
+  Baby and Sis and me
+  Stand by the fence and see
+      Picnickers munch
+      Lots o' good lunch,
+  Jes' givin' nothin' to we.
+
+      Baby and Sis and me,
+      Hungry as we can be,
+          Haven't no right
+          To be 'spectin' a bite,--
+      But we're glad lookin' is free.
+
+
+
+
+  KINDNESS TO ANIMALS
+
+
+  The Bison, though he seems so grim,
+      Is very sensitive;
+  And when the children stare at him,
+      He wants to cease to live.
+
+      He hears them wonder why he's there,
+          And why he can't break through;
+      And why he has such funny hair,
+          And why he doesn't moo.
+
+  At this, the suffering Buffalo
+      Can scarce restrain to weep;
+  Their caustic comments hurt him so,--
+      They haunt him in his sleep.
+
+      But, Grown-Up people, let me pray
+          You'll not behave like this;
+      The Bison pet,--and, when you may,
+          Give him a friendly kiss.
+
+
+
+
+  A COLD DAY
+
+
+  In winter time when ice and sleet
+  Make slidy places on the street,
+  The children early leave their beds
+  And rush out with their skates and sleds.
+
+      All merrily the little dears
+      Throw snowballs in each other's ears;
+      And thus with pretty playful ways
+      Beguile the white and wintry days.
+
+          Oh, Venerable Veterans,
+          I hate to disarrange your plans;
+          But truly, if you try this game
+          You will go home all stiff and lame.
+
+
+
+
+  SKATES
+
+
+  A blithesome boy this picture shows;
+  He has a true Mercurian pose,
+  Like winged heels his roller-skates
+  Send him fast-flying past his mates.
+  When one is young, 'tis very nice
+  To skate on rollers or on ice.
+
+      But Ancient Gaffers, do not try
+      With active boys like this to vie.
+      For if you get a skate on, you
+      Acquire a rolling gait, 'tis true.
+      But soon this proverb you'll endorse,--
+      A rolling gait gathers remorse.
+
+
+
+
+  THE EXCURSION BOAT
+
+
+  Into the boat the breeze blows fair,
+      It blows across the deck;
+  It blows the little children's hair,--
+      They get it in the neck.
+
+      And in this picture you may see
+          The happy girls and boys,
+      So true to life,--but thankful be
+          You cannot hear the noise.
+
+          The great steam-whistle's fearful squeaks.
+              The band, ill-tuned and loud;
+          The babies with their screams and shrieks,
+              The bustle of the crowd.
+
+              Grown People, you'd prefer, afloat,
+                  A private yacht, I'm sure;
+              Then shun the gay excursion boat
+                  Unless you're very poor.
+
+
+
+
+  EVOLUTIONARY FAME
+
+
+  These merry children, I'll be bound
+  In careless pleasure ride around;
+  Unthinking as they onward go,
+  What pedigree their horses show.
+
+      But, Graybeard, you learned when a boy
+      About the Wooden Horse of Troy;
+      And you assume these steeds to be
+      The Trojan Sire's posterity.
+
+          Well, there you're wrong! you have forgot.
+          They're Flying Horses, are they not?
+          And, scions of a noble name,
+          From Pegasus descent they claim.
+
+              But, Graybeards, curb your mad desires
+              To mount upon these whizzing flyers.
+              For there's the very strongest chance
+              You'd go home in an ambulance.
+
+
+
+
+  PIETY
+
+
+  With new, ill-fitting gloves,
+      With frocks as white as snow,
+  By two and two these little loves
+      To First Communion go.
+
+      I watch them as they pass,--
+          Somehow, I shrewdly guess
+      Each child thinks little of her mass
+          And much about her dress.
+
+          But you, dear Aged Saint,
+              Whose eyeballs upward roll,
+          I trust you have no worldly taint
+              Upon your gentle soul.
+
+
+
+
+  WEALTH
+
+
+  Joe Munn who has a penny
+  Has friends and friends a-many;
+      They hang around him eagerly and offer him advice.
+  Tim Lanigan states clearly
+  That he loves taffy dearly
+      And butterscotch is awful good and chocolates is nice.
+
+      Jane said, but no one heard her,
+      "An orange would go furder,"
+          While Billy Barlow's heart beat high inside his chubby shape.
+      It needs no divination
+      To see the application,--
+          Until your purse is empty from your friends you can't escape.
+
+
+
+
+  THE SKIPPING-ROPE
+
+  This picture (as you can see, I hope)
+  Shows a fat little maiden skipping rope.
+  She can jump "highwater" and "pepper" too,
+  But, fat old ladies, let me tell you,
+  If you jump "highwater" you'll lose your breath,
+  And to jump "pepper" might cause your death.
+
+
+
+
+  MUSIC'S MIGHT
+
+  On the East Side any day,
+  When the street pianos play
+    You can see the children dancing with
+        a rhythmic whirl and sway.
+
+        All untaught their native grace,
+        Joy in every grinning face,
+          To the music they are gaily keeping
+              perfect time and pace.
+
+              But, infirm and aged crones,
+              Do not risk your ancient bones;
+                Your old nerves would suffer sadly
+                    jarred and jolted by the stones.
+
+
+
+
+  A BALL GAME
+
+  There never was a place so bad
+  But one redeeming trait it had.
+
+      Now Harlem is no good at all
+      Save as a place for playing ball.
+
+          But there the boys will run and play
+          Their favorite game 'most every day.
+
+              But, Reverend sir, 'twould foolish be
+              To play, with your rheumatic knee.
+
+                  And, Deacon, do not try, I beg,
+                  To play the game with your game leg.
+
+
+
+
+  THE RIVAL QUEENS
+
+
+  Now wasn't this ridiculous?
+  Essie and Mamie had a fuss,
+  And each declared she wouldn't play
+  Unless she could be Queen of May.
+
+    "You think you're smart!" Miss Essie said,
+    And Mamie sneered and tossed her head.
+    And each one angrily declared
+    There'd be no queen for all she cared!
+
+      Mamie was mad as she could be,
+      And Essie pouted sulkily;
+      With angry looks they onward stalked,
+      While no one 'neath the May-bower walked.
+
+        Oh! social Queens, this lesson learn
+        If for supremacy you yearn,
+        And of your fitness there is doubt,
+        See that your rival too's kept out.
+
+
+
+
+  LITTLE MOTHERS
+
+  The Little Mothers of the poor
+  They lead a jolly life, I'm sure;
+  For without being gray and old,
+  They've all a mother's right to scold.
+  As eagerly each day they meet
+  To pass the gossip of the street,
+  Her baby-cart, each states with pride,
+  Is finest on the whole East side.
+  And each, her small charge will declare
+  The handsomest baby anywhere.
+  Oh, Grown-up Mothers, learn to praise
+  Your children and their pretty ways.
+
+
+
+
+  OTHER LITTLE MOTHERS
+
+
+  The Little Mothers of the rich
+      Are really works of art,
+  They are dressed up to such a pitch
+      In frocks so fine and smart.
+
+      They do not have to take the charge
+          Of baby boys or girls;
+      No, they have dolls exceeding large
+          With silky, flaxen curls.
+
+          Ah, Mothers in Society,
+              Accept this reasoning sound;
+          Dolls far less troublesome would be
+              Than children bothering round.
+
+
+
+
+  FOURTH OF JULY
+
+  These boisterous boys, with bang and fizz,
+      They make such noisy noise;
+  But, then, perhaps the reason is,
+      They are such boysy boys.
+
+      The girls as well,--from early morn
+          They shoot and shoot and shoot;
+      And on a trumpet or a horn
+          They toot and toot and toot.
+
+          But you, whose locks are bleached by Time,
+              (Or by the Chemist's aid),
+          Heed my admonitory rhyme,
+              Nor join the gay parade.
+
+
+
+
+  THANKSGIVING-DAY
+
+
+  When Autumn brings around the day
+      Devoted to thanksgiving,
+  The children scream with laughter gay
+      For very joy of living.
+
+      And every sort of escapade
+          Receives their commendation;
+      But all agree a masquerade
+          Is best for celebration.
+
+          The boys and girls all swarm around
+              The crowd is hourly growing;
+          Straw hatted and grotesquely gowned,--
+              With tin horns loudly blowing.
+
+              But dear old dames with snowy puffs,
+                  Tulle caps and Mechlin laces,
+              Don't scramble out and join the toughs
+                  In boys' clothes and false faces.
+
+
+
+
+  ICE-CREAM
+
+
+  To Bob and Sue, who have ice-cream,
+  Life is a glowing, halcyon dream,
+      While Tom stands empty by;
+  And says, "Gee! fellers, ain't it prime?
+  Say, I had ice-cream too, one time,
+      And it was great! Oh, my!"
+
+  Ah, beaux and belles at rout or ball,
+  Does ice-cream on your palate pall?
+      Is it to you no treat?
+  You never ate it from the can,
+  Come, patronize the Ice-Cream Man,
+      Come down to Mulberry Street!
+
+  [Illustration:]
+
+
+
+
+
+
+

passages/pg26445.txt

@@ -0,0 +1,535 @@
+
+
+
+
+
+Produced by David Garcia, Diane Monico, and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This
+file was produced from images generously made available
+by The Kentuckiana Digital Library)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: (signed) Very Truly Yours,
+Paul H. Hayne.]
+
+
+
+
+SONGS
+FROM THE SOUTHLAND
+
+SELECTED BY
+S. F. PRICE
+
+[Illustration]
+
+BOSTON
+D. LOTHROP COMPANY
+WASHINGTON STREET OPPOSITE BROMFIEL
+
+
+
+
+COPYRIGHT, 1890,
+BY
+D. LOTHROP COMPANY.
+
+
+
+
+SONGS
+FROM THE SOUTH-LAND.
+
+
+
+
+THE CLOSING YEAR.
+
+GEORGE D. PRENTICE.
+
+
+'Tis midnight's holy hour, and silence now
+Is brooding, like a gentle spirit o'er
+The still and pulseless world. Hark! on the winds
+The bell's deep tones are swelling; 'tis the knell
+Of the departed year. No funeral train
+Is sweeping past; yet, on the stream and wood,
+With melancholy light, the moonbeams rest
+Like a pale, spotless shroud; the air is stirred,
+As by a mourner's sigh; and, on yon cloud,
+That floats so still and placidly through heaven,
+The spirits of the Seasons seem to stand.
+Young Spring, bright Summer, Autumn's solemn form,
+And Winter with its aged locks--and breathe
+In mournful cadences, that come abroad,
+Like the far windharps wild, touching wail,
+A melancholy dirge o'er the dead year,
+Gone from the earth forever.
+
+            'Tis a time
+For memory and for tears. Within the deep,
+Still chambers of the heart, a spectre dim,
+Whose tones are like the wizard voice of time,
+Heard from the tomb of ages, points its cold
+And solemn finger to the beautiful
+And holy visions, that have passed away,
+And left no shadow of their loveliness
+On the dead waste of life. The spectre lifts
+The coffin-lid of Hope and Joy and Love,
+And bending mournfully above the pale,
+Sweet forms that slumber there, scatters dead flowers
+O'er what has passed to nothingness.
+
+            The year
+Has gone, and with it many a glorious throng
+Of happy dreams. Its mark is on each brow,
+Its shadow in each heart. In its swift course,
+It waved its sceptre o'er the beautiful;
+And they are not. It laid its pallid hand
+Upon the strong man: and the haughty form
+Is fallen, and the flashing eye is dim.
+It trod the hall of revelry, where thronged
+The bright and joyous; and the tearful wail
+Of stricken ones is heard, where erst the song
+And reckless shout resounded. It passed o'er
+The battle plain, where sword, and spear and shield,
+Flashed in the light of midday; and the strength
+Of serried hosts is shivered, and the grass,
+Green from the soil of carnage, waves above
+The crushed and mouldering skeleton. It came,
+And faded like a wreath of mist at eve;
+Yet, ere it melted in the viewless air,
+It heralded its millions to their home,
+In the dim land of dreams.
+
+            Remorseless time!
+Fierce spirit of the glass and scythe! What power
+Can stay him in his silent course, or melt
+His iron heart to pity! On, still on,
+He presses and forever. The proud bird,
+The Condor of the Andes, that can soar
+Through heaven's unfathomable depths, or brave
+The fury of the northing hurricane,
+And bath its plumage in the thunder's home
+Furls his broad wing at nightfall, and sinks down
+To rest upon his mountain crag; but Time
+Knows not the weight of sleep or weariness,
+And Night's deep darkness has no chain to bind
+His rushing pinion.
+
+            Revolutions sweep
+O'er earth, like troubled visions o'er the breast
+Of dreaming sorrow; cities rise and sink
+Like bubbles on the water; fiery isles
+Spring blazing from the ocean, and go back
+To their mysterious caverns; mountains rear
+To heaven their bold and blackened cliffs, and bow
+Their tall heads to the plain; and empires rise,
+Gathering the strength of hoary centuries,
+And rush down, like the Alpine avalanche,
+Startling the nations; and the very stars,
+Yon bright and glorious blazonry of God,
+Glitter awhile in their eternal depths,
+And like the Pleiad, loveliest of their train,
+Shoot from their glorious spheres, and pass away
+To darkle in the trackless void; yet Time,
+Time, the tomb-builder, holds his fierce career,
+Dark, stern, all pitiless, and pauses not
+Amid the mighty wrecks that strew his path,
+To sit and muse, like other conquerors,
+Upon the fearful ruin he hath wrought.
+
+
+
+
+CHRISTMAS. [1864.]
+
+HENRY TIMROD.
+
+
+    How grace this hallowed day?
+Shall happy bells, from yonder ancient spire,
+Send their glad greetings to each Christmas fire
+    Round which the children play?
+
+                  ....
+
+    How shall we grace the day?
+Ah! Let the thought that on this holy morn
+The Prince of Peace-the Prince of Peace was born,
+    Employ us, while we pray!
+
+    Pray for the peace which long
+Hath left this tortured land, and haply now
+Holds its white court on some far mountain's brow,
+    There hardly safe from wrong!
+
+    Let every sacred fane
+Call its sad votaries to the shrine of God,
+And, with the cloister and the tented sod,
+    Join in one solemn strain!
+
+    He, who, till time shall cease,
+Will watch that earth, where once, not all in vain,
+He died to give us peace, may not disdain
+    A prayer whose theme is--peace.
+
+    Perhaps ere yet the Spring
+Hath died into the Summer, over all
+The land, the Peace of His vast love shall fall,
+    Like some protecting wing.
+
+    Oh, ponder what it means!
+Oh, turn the rapturous thought in every way!
+Oh, give the vision and the fancy play,
+    And shape the coming scenes!
+
+    Peace in the quiet dales,
+Made rankly fertile by the blood of men,
+Peace in the woodland, and the lonely glen,
+    Peace in the peopled vales!
+
+    Peace in the crowded town,
+Peace in the thousand fields of waving grain,
+Peace in the highway and the flowery lane,
+    Peace on the wind-swept down!
+
+    Peace on the farthest seas,
+Peace in our sheltered bays and ample streams,
+Peace whereso'er our starry garland gleams;
+    And peace in every breeze!
+
+    Peace on the whirring marts,
+Peace where the scholar thinks--the hunter roams,
+Peace, God of Peace! Peace, peace, in all our homes,
+    And peace in all our hearts!
+
+[Illustration: "Peace in the quiet dales
+                Made rankly fertile by the blood of men."]
+
+
+
+
+LA BELLE JUIVE.
+
+HENRY TIMROD.
+
+
+Is it because your sable hair
+Is folded over brows that wear
+At times a too imperial air;
+
+Or is it that the thoughts which rise
+In those dark orbs do seek disguise
+Beneath the lids of Eastern eyes;
+
+That choose whatever pose or place
+May chance to please, in you I trace
+The noblest woman of your race?
+
+The crowd is sauntering at its ease,
+And humming like a hive of bees--
+You take your seat and touch the keys:
+
+I do not hear the giddy throng;
+The sea avenges Israel's wrong,
+And on the mind floats Miriam's song!
+
+You join me with a stately grace;
+Music to Poesy gives place;
+Some grand emotion lights your face:
+
+At once I stand by Mizpeh's walls;
+With smiles the martyred daughter falls,
+And desolate are Mizpeh's halls!
+
+Intrusive babblers come between;
+With calm, pale brow and lofty mein,
+You thread the circle like a queen!
+
+Then sweeps the royal Esther by;
+The deep devotion in her eye,
+Is looking "If I die, I die!"
+
+You stroll the gardener's flowery walks;
+The plants to me are grainless stalks,
+And Ruth to old Naomi talks.
+
+Adopted child of Judah's creed,
+Like Judah's daughters, true at need,
+I see you mid the alien seed.
+
+I watch afar the gleaner sweet;
+I watch like Boaz in the wheat,
+And find you lying at my feet.
+
+My feet! Oh! if the spell that lures,
+My heart through all these dreams endures,
+How soon shall I be stretched at yours!
+
+
+
+
+TO HELEN.
+
+EDGAR ALLAN POE.
+
+
+Helen, thy beauty is to me
+  Like those Nicean barks of yore,
+That gently, o'er a perfumed sea,
+  The weary, way-worn wanderer bore
+  To his own native shore.
+
+On desperate seas long wont to roam,
+  Thy hyacinth hair, thy classic face,
+Thy Naiad airs have brought me home
+  To the glory that was Greece
+And the grandeur that was Rome.
+
+Lo! in yon brilliant window-niche
+  How statue-like I see thee stand!
+  The agate lamp within thy hand,
+Ah! Psyche, from the regions which
+  Are Holy Land!
+
+
+
+
+A CHRISTMAS CHANT.
+
+FATHER RYAN.
+
+
+Four thousand years earth waited,
+  Four thousand years men prayed,
+Four thousand years the nations sighed
+  That their King so long delayed.
+
+The prophets told His coming,
+  The saintly for Him sighed;
+And the star of the Babe of Bethlehem
+  Shone o'er them when they died.
+
+Their faces toward the future,
+  They longed to hail the light
+That in the after centuries
+  Would rise on Christmas night.
+
+But still the Saviour tarried,
+  Within His father's home;
+And the nations wept and wondered why
+  The promise had not come.
+
+At last earth's hope was granted,
+  And God was a child of earth;
+And a thousand angels chanted
+  The lowly midnight birth.
+
+Ah! Bethlehem was grander
+  That hour than paradise;
+And the light of earth that night eclipsed
+  The splendour of the skies.
+
+Then let us sing the anthem,
+  The angels once did sing;
+Until the music of love and praise
+  O'er whole wide world will ring.
+
+    Glory in excelsis!
+      Sound the thrilling song;
+    In excelsis Deo!
+      Roll the hymn along.
+
+[Illustration: Then let us sing the anthem
+               The angels once did sing.]
+
+    Glory in excelsis!
+      Let the heavens ring;
+    In excelsis Deo!
+      Welcome, new-born King.
+    Gloria in excelsis!
+      Over the sea and land,
+    In excelsis Deo!
+      Chant the anthem grand.
+    Gloria in excelsis!
+      Let us all rejoice!
+    In excelsis Deo!
+      Lift each heart and voice.
+    Gloria in excelsis!
+      Swell the hymn on high;
+    In excelsis Deo!
+      Sound it to the sky.
+    Gloria in excelsis!
+      Sing it sinful earth.
+    In excelsis Deo!
+      For the Saviour's birth.
+
+Thus joyful and victoriously,
+Glad and ever so gloriously,
+High as the heavens, wide as the earth,
+Swelleth the hymn of the Saviour's birth.
+
+
+
+
+THE VOICE IN THE PINES.
+
+PAUL HAMILTON HAYNE.
+
+
+The morn is softly beautiful and still,
+  Its light, fair clouds in pencilled gold and gray
+Pause motionless above the pine-grown hill,
+Where the pines, tranced as by a wizard's will,
+  Uprise as mute and motionless as they!
+
+Yea! mute and moveless; not one flickering spray
+  Flashed into sunlight, nor a gaunt bough stirred;
+Yet, if wooed hence beneath those pines to stray,
+We catch a faint, thin murmur far away,
+  A bodiless voice, by grosser ears unheard.
+
+What voice is this? What low and solemn tone,
+  Which, though all wings of all the winds seemed furled,
+Nor even the zephyr's fairy flute is blown,
+Makes thus forever its mysterious moan
+  From out the whispering pine-tops' shadowy world?
+
+Ah! can it be the antique tales are true?
+  Doth some lone Dryad haunt the breezeless air,
+Fronting yon bright immitigable blue,
+And wildly breathing all her wild soul through
+  That strange unearthly music of despair?
+
+Or can it be that ages since, storm-tossed,
+  And driven far inland from the roaring lea,
+Some baffled ocean-spirit, worn and lost,
+Here, through dry summer's dearth and winter's frost,
+  Yearns for the sharp, sweet kisses of the sea?
+
+Whate'er the spell, I harken and am dumb,
+  Dream-touched, and musing in the tranquil morn;
+All woodland sounds--the pheasant's gusty drum,
+The mock-bird's fugue, the droning insect's hum--
+  Scarce heard for that strange, sorrowful voice forlorn!
+
+Beneath the drowsed sense, from deep to deep
+  Of spiritual life its mournful minor flows,
+Streamlike, with pensive tide, whose currents keep
+Low murmuring 'twixt the bounds of grief and sleep,
+  Yet locked for aye for sleep's divine repose.
+
+
+
+
+ASPECTS OF THE PINES.
+
+PAUL HAMILTON HAYNE.
+
+
+Tall, sombre, grim, against the morning sky
+  They rise, scarce touched by melancholy airs,
+Which stir the fadeless foliage dreamfully,
+  As if from realms of mystical despairs.
+
+Tall, sombre, grim, they stand with dusky gleams
+  Brightening to gold within the woodland's core,
+Beneath the gracious noontide's tranquil beams--
+  But the weird winds of morning sigh no more.
+
+A stillness, strange, divine, ineffable,
+  Broods round and o'er them in the wind's surcease,
+And on each tinted copse and shimmering dell
+  Rests the mute rapture of deep-hearted peace.
+
+Last, sunset comes--the solemn joy and might
+  Borne from the West when cloudless day declines--
+Low, flutelike breezes sweep the waves of light,
+  And lifting dark green tresses of the pines,
+
+Till every lock is luminous--gently float,
+  Fraught with hale odors up the heavens afar
+To faint when twilight on her virginal throat
+  Wears for a gem the tremulous vesper star.
+
+[Illustration: "Tall, sombre, grim, they stand with dusky gleam
+                Brightening to gold within the woodland's core."]
+
+
+
+
+IN HARBOR.
+
+PAUL HAMILTON HAYNE.
+
+
+I think it is over, over,
+  I think it is over at last,
+Voices of foeman and lover,
+  The sweet and the bitter have passed--
+Life, like a tempest of ocean
+  Hath outblown its ultimate blast.
+There's but a faint sobbing seaward
+While the calm of the tide deepens leeward,
+And behold! like the welcoming quiver
+Of heart-pulses throbbed thro' the river,
+  Those lights in the harbor at last,
+  The heavenly harbor at last!
+
+I feel it is over! over!
+  For the winds and the waters surcease;
+Ah! few were the days of the rover
+  That smiled in the beauty of peace!
+And distant and dim was the omen
+  That hinted redress or release.
+From the ravage of life, and its riot
+What marvel I yearn for the quiet
+  Which bides in the harbor at last?
+For the lights with their welcoming quiver
+That through the sanctified river
+  Which girdles the harbor at last,
+  This heavenly harbor at last?
+
+I _know_ it is over, over,
+  I know it is over at last!
+Down sail! the sheathed anchor uncover,
+  For the stress of the voyage has passed--
+Life, like a tempest of ocean
+  Hath outbreathed its ultimate blast.
+There's but a faint sobbing seaward,
+While the calm of the tide deepens leeward;
+And behold! like the welcoming quiver
+Of heart-pulses throbbed thro' the river,
+  Those lights in the harbor at last,
+  The heavenly harbor at last!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+Transcriber's Notes
+
+Spelling, hyphenation, and punctuation inconsistencies have been
+retained from the original book.
+
+Page 10: This is a shortened version of Henry Timrod's poem, and the
+four dots represent lines missing from the full version.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+

passages/pg26787.txt

@@ -0,0 +1,537 @@
+
+
+
+Transcribed from the 1913 Thomas J. Wise pamphlet by David Price, email
+ccx074@pglaf.org
+
+
+
+
+
+                            ALF THE FREEBOOTER
+                           LITTLE DANNEVED AND
+                               SWAYNE TROST
+
+                            AND OTHER BALLADS
+
+                                    BY
+                              GEORGE BORROW
+
+                                 LONDON:
+                     PRINTED FOR PRIVATE CIRCULATION
+
+                                   1913
+
+               _Copyright in the United States of America_
+           _by Houghton_, _Mifflin & Co. for Clement Shorter_.
+
+
+
+
+SIR ALF THE FREEBOOTER
+_Song the First_
+
+
+Sir Alf he is an Atheling,
+Both at Stevn and at Ting. {5}
+   _Know ye little Alf_?
+
+Alf he builds a vessel stout,
+For he will rove and sail about.
+
+Alf he builds a vessel high,
+The trade of pirate he will try.
+
+He draws on the sand a circle mark,
+And with a bound he gained the bark.
+
+Upon the prow Alf foremost stood,
+And Copenhagen’s koggers view’d.
+
+O’er the wide sea he flung a look,
+He knew the course the vessels took.
+
+“There koggers nine salute mine eyes,
+All, all they bear shall be my prize.”
+
+Alone into a boat he goes,
+And briskly to the koggers rows.
+
+“Well met, ye Courtmen, clad in mail
+Unto what haven do ye sail?”
+
+“Unto that haven we are bound,
+Where Alf is likeliest to be found.”
+
+“What will ye on the man bestow
+Who unto ye Sir Alf can show?”
+
+“Silver and gold to him we’ll give,
+All he can wish for shall he receive.
+
+Presents of worth he shall not miss,
+The robber’s vessel shall be his.”
+
+“And what shall be the pirates’ lot,
+If Alf the pirate escape you not?”
+
+“His mariners we’ll hew and slay,
+Himself we will in irons lay.”
+
+“Ha! little Alf ye here may see,
+Slight victory ye shall win from me!”
+
+“Up, up and board, my gallant crew,
+Cable and rope asunder hew!”
+
+Till he was weary Alf he hew’d,
+In fifteen Courtmen’s gore he stood.
+
+He captured all the koggers nine,
+And sailed for Norway o’er the brine.
+
+To Rostock in the tiding goes,
+Then palened many a cheek of rose.
+
+Widow and child lamented sore,
+This hurtful hawk had made them poor.
+
+But they must thole this damage all,
+Their tears but bootless, bootless fall.
+   _Know ye little Alf_?
+
+
+
+
+SIR ALF THE FREEBOOTER
+_Song the Second_
+
+
+Sir Alf will not stay in Norroway land,
+   For he passes his time there wearily;
+Full fifteen lordships in fief he holds,
+   He can live thereout right merrily.
+
+Sir Alf he walks on the verdant wold,
+   Conning his breviary;
+There meets him Bendit Rimaardson,
+   For God of his sins was weary.
+
+“Good morrow, good day, thou little Sir Alf,
+   Thou art a valiant noble,
+But if thou become the King’s prisoner to-day,
+   The land will know less trouble.”
+
+“I am not the little Sir Alf,
+   I vow by the holy Mary;
+I am but a little mass-boy, Sir,
+   To the priest the wine I carry!”
+
+Bendit lifted his high, high hat,
+   And upon his visage staring,
+Said: “Thou art the little Norwegian Alf,
+   If mine eyes are the truth declaring.
+
+“Thou wast a school boy along with me,
+   Thou darest not deny it;
+And well at the school I remember thee,
+   Thou gavest us no quiet.”
+
+“If thou be Bendit Rimaardson,
+   Thou art my near relation;
+If to-day thou wilt swear thou knowest me not,
+   Thou wilt do me an obligation.”
+
+But straight they took the little Sir Alf,
+   And gyves to his legs they fastened;
+And away, away to Helsingborg,
+   With the captive Alf they hastened.
+
+“Now take little Alf to the chamber high,
+   To the hall of the regal tower,
+That the Queen at her ease, and her maids, if they please.
+   May behold this thief of power.”
+
+Then up and spake the Danish Queen,
+   On first little Alf espying:
+“The man that I see cannot surely be he,
+   Whose fame through the world is flying.”
+
+“Though I of stature be little and mean,
+   I’ve every manly talent,
+And ne’er wilt thou bear thy lord an heir,
+   Half, half so good and gallant.
+
+“I’d give my mantle with roses red,
+   And lilies flowered over,
+If I might sleep one night with thee,
+   And play the ardent lover.
+
+“If I one night with thee might sleep,
+   None knowing but thy maid servant,
+For then, I ween, thou would’st beg, fair Queen,
+   For my pardon in accents fervent.”
+
+Then answered him the Danish Queen,
+   As she struck the board with vigour:
+“To-morrow, ere folk to breakfast go,
+   On a gibbet thou shalt figure!”
+
+“Why hang’st thou not Ivor of Holsterbro,
+   And Canute of Sonderboro?
+They were thieves like me, but they slept with thee,
+   And their death would have caused thee sorrow.”
+
+Then they took away the little Sir Alf
+   From the hall of the regal tower;
+For the beauteous Queen and her ladies had seen
+   Enough of this thief of power.
+
+They led the little Count Sir Alf
+   Out East from Helsing city;
+With contrite breast he his sins confess’d,
+   And to God he cried for pity.
+
+“Now I counsel each noble woman’s son,
+   He in honour’s courses guide him,
+With his equals dwell in the land, for well
+   With all will that land provide him.
+
+“For many a day and many a year
+   I’ve plundered, as every one knoweth;
+But what we win with injustice and sin
+   With shame and sorrow goeth.
+
+“A Count was I, of Erling’s race,
+   O’er Timsberg’s rich fief I lorded;
+That filled me with pride, and my will I would have,
+   Though my will with no law accorded.
+
+“First, first on all who my hate had won
+   I murders foul committed;
+Then to wife and maid no respect I paid,
+   But shamefully them I treated.
+
+“From the needy citizen his goods
+   And his life besides I’ve riven;
+Widow and orphans my deeds bemoan,
+   And for vengeance cry to heaven.
+
+“Lord God to me kind and clement be,
+   And grant me this petition:
+Let me gain, when this death of shame I’ve thol’d,
+   Into endless life admission.”
+
+
+
+
+LITTLE DANNEVED AND SWAYNE TROST.
+
+
+“O what shall I in Denmark do?
+   To bear your armour I’m too weak;
+The Danish warriors jeer at me,
+   Because their tongue I cannot speak.”
+
+It was the young Danneved,
+   He bade them saddle his courser grey:
+“O I will ride to Borrebye,
+   And a visit to my mother pay.”
+
+O clinking were his spurs so keen,
+   And swiftly sped his horse along;
+At Lundy Kirk in Skaaney land
+   He stopped to hear the matin song.
+
+O first he heard the matin song,
+   To hear nine masses stopped he then;
+And now it lists young Danneved
+   To mount upon his steed again.
+
+Out spake Oluf, the aged and good,
+   He was I ween the parish priest:
+“I beg of thee, little Danneved,
+   To be this day my honoured guest.”
+
+“This day I’ll break with no man bread,
+   Nor drink a drop of rosy wine,
+Until I come to Borrebye,
+   And hold discourse with mother mine.”
+
+“Now hear me, dearest Danneved,
+   Give o’er, I beg, thy purpose straight;
+So many of thy enemies
+   Before the town in ambush wait.”
+
+“O first I trust in my faulchion good,
+   And then I trust in my courser tall,
+And next to them in my merry swains,
+   But in my own self most of all.”
+
+“’Tis well to trust in thy faulchion good,
+   ’Tis well to trust in thy courser tall,
+But do not trust in thy merry swains,
+   For they’ll deceive thee first of all.”
+
+It was little Danneved,
+   Abroad before the town he came;
+And there met him his enemies,
+   Thrice nine in number were the same.
+
+So numerous were these enemies,
+   For him that did in ambush lie,
+All Danneved’s swains they took their leave,
+   And from their lord did basely fly.
+
+All his merry men took their leave,
+   And from their master basely flew,
+Except the young Swayne Trost alone,
+   He with his lord took on anew.
+
+“O I, my Lord, your clothes have worn,
+   And ridden have I, my Lord, your steed,
+And I will stand by you to-day,
+   Nor leave you in your greatest need.
+
+“O I have taken your silver and gold,
+   And I have eaten of your bread,
+And I’ll not budge from you to-day,
+   Although my life-blood I should shed.”
+
+So they their backs together placed,
+   Master and man, in the forest green;
+And in the early morning tide
+   They of the foemen slew fifteen.
+
+Then they their backs together placed,
+   Where thick and high the bushes were;
+They twain alone full thirty slew,
+   Acquiring honour ever fair.
+
+It was the young Danneved,
+   To his side his trusty faulchion tied;
+And now they both so joyously
+   Home to his mother’s castle ride.
+
+It was the young Danneved,
+   Came riding to the Castellaye;
+It was then his mother dear
+   Came out to meet him, blythe and gay.
+
+“Be welcome, little Danneved,
+   Be welcome to this house of mine;
+What doth it please thee now to drink?
+   O, say, shall it be mead or wine?”
+
+“O, I will ne’er break bread with you,
+   Or drink a drop of mead or wine,
+’Till thou hast given the young Swayne Trost
+   Fair Ellen, only sister mine.”
+
+“And do thou hear, my dearest son,
+   Hear what I now declare to thee;
+As God shall help me in my need,
+   Brothers of Ellen both ye be.”
+
+“Now do thou hear, my mother dear,
+   Thou’st not to me the truth declar’d;
+Where didst thou bear the young Swayne Trost,
+   That of his birth I never heard?”
+
+“O he was but a little child,
+   When him from out the land I sent;
+And, hearing it said that he was dead,
+   To none I did my loss lament.”
+
+Then up spoke little Danneved,
+   He was the son of a knight so high:
+“Now I have such a brother found,
+   I never more will grieve or sigh.
+
+“God’s blessing upon thee, young Swayne Trost,
+   To thee my troth I now will give;
+I’ll ne’er deceive thee, young Swayne Trost,
+   As long as I on earth shall live.”
+
+Little Danneved and young Swayne Trost,
+   In sables and mard themselves array;
+And both of them took so joyously
+   To the imperial Court their way.
+
+
+
+
+SIR PALL, SIR BEAR, AND SIR LIDEN.
+
+
+Liden he rode to the Ting, and shewed
+   His bloody gashes there:
+“And these were done by no other one
+   But my dear brother Bear.”
+
+With humble air upstood Sir Bear,
+   And for leave to speak he cried:
+“I’ll give thee gold and silver to hold,
+   And my good broad lands beside.”
+
+“Keep thou thyself thy silver pelf,
+   And thy good broad lands for me;
+By God I swear this little hand fair
+   Thy death, brother Bear, shall be.”
+
+Home to their hall ride Bear and Pall.
+   With unsuspicious mind;
+In wrathful mood, with five swains good,
+   Followed Liden close behind.
+
+Sir Pall, and Sir Bear, and Sir Liden, three were,
+   And they met the boughs beneath:
+’Twas sad to view how quick out-flew
+   Their faulchions from the sheath.
+
+First Pall he slew his brother true,
+   Then Bear to death he smote;
+I tell to ye for verity
+   His own death wound he got.
+
+They took up with care Sir Pall and Sir Bear,
+   To the city them they bore;
+Beneath the skies in the greenwood lies
+   Sir Liden amid his gore.
+
+To the earn and the owl and the beasts that prowl
+   Sir Liden’s corpse they left;
+When that was said to his plighted maid
+   She died of sense bereft.
+
+Had he paid heed to his mother’s rede,
+   And himself to the law address’d,
+His brothers twain had remained unslain,
+   And their feud had been laid at rest.
+
+In piteous mode wept Mettelil proud,
+   The death of her three sons bold:
+“Woe’s me,” cried she, “That e’er my eyes
+   Should this sad hour behold.”
+
+For Pall she wept sore, and still, still more
+   For Bear the good and brave;
+But most of all for Sir Liden’s fall,
+   For he had no hallowed grave.
+
+
+
+
+BELARDO’S WEDDING
+
+
+From the banks, in morning’s beam,
+Of Xarama, famous stream;
+From the spot, or nigh it, where
+It joins the Tagus broad and fair,
+Sped Belardo, blithe and gay,
+To receive the righteous pay
+Of all the years of love he’d spent
+In doubts, and fears, and discontent—
+
+   _But happy the shepherd who finally gains_
+   _The beautiful prize of his manifold pains_.
+
+Unto her village now he goes
+The handsome Philis to espouse;
+For now her father, kind and bland,
+But late so stern, yields him her hand.
+Now in his eyes the shepherd shows
+The rapture in his breast that glows,
+That after storm and hurricane
+The heaven should look bright again.
+
+   _How happy the shepherd who finally gains_
+   _The beautiful prize of his manifold pains_.
+
+Not as of yore on foot, I trow,
+Or in albarcas goes he now;
+Albarcas made of slain wolf hide,
+In blood of cow or heifer dyed.
+O snow-white pointed shoes wore he,
+Green stockings gartered at the knee;
+Button composed of burning glass,
+Presented, mind ye, by his lass.
+
+   _How happy the shepherd who finally gains_
+   _The beautiful prize of his manifold pains_.
+
+What a knight of gallant air
+Rides he forth on sorrel mare;
+Saddle of Friezeland leather made,
+Fringe of the most dainty thread.
+Sombrero new, of neatest shape,
+Mantle long with lengthy cape,
+Sayo green, obscure to see,
+Graced with much embroidery.
+
+   _How happy the shepherd who finally gains_
+   _The beautiful prize of his labour and pains_.
+
+By the guise in which he’s drest,
+His hopes are visibly exprest;
+Hopes which so often damped and chilled
+Are on the point to be fulfilled.
+Within his bosom he doth bear
+All the billets of his dear;
+They are so many bills which he
+Is bent to settle speedily.
+
+   _Happy the shepherd who finally gains_
+   _The beautiful prize of his manifold pains_.
+
+Arriving at the house he saw,
+Waiting for him, his father-in-law,
+Who, good-bye to scoffs and slights,
+Holds his stirrup whilst he lights.
+Lovely Philis at the door
+Calls him “husband” and “senor;”
+He “senora” and “dear wife”
+Calleth her, they’re one for life.
+
+   _Happy the shepherd who finally gains_
+   _The beautiful prize of his manifold pains_.
+
+
+
+
+THE YEW TREE
+
+
+O tree of yew, which here I spy,
+By Forida’s famed monastery;
+Beneath thee lies, by cold death bound,
+The tongue for sweetness once renown’d.
+
+Thou noble tree who shelterest kind,
+The grave from winter’s snow and wind,
+May lightning never lay thee low,
+Nor archer cut from thee his bow;
+Nor Crispin peel thee, pegs to frame,
+But may thou ever bloom the same;
+A noble tree the grave to guard
+Of Cambria’s most illustrious bard!
+
+                                 LONDON:
+               Printed for THOMAS J. WISE, Hampstead, N.W.
+                   _Edition limited to Thirty Copies_.
+
+
+
+
+Footnotes:
+
+
+{5}  _Stevn_ and _Ting_.  Both words signify a tribunal before which
+litigations were decided.
+
+
+
+
+
+

passages/pg26791.txt

@@ -0,0 +1,490 @@
+
+
+
+Transcribed from the 1913 Thomas J. Wise pamphlet by David Price, email
+ccx074@pglaf.org
+
+
+
+
+
+ERMELINE
+A BALLAD
+
+
+                                    BY
+                              GEORGE BORROW
+
+                                 LONDON:
+                     PRINTED FOR PRIVATE CIRCULATION
+
+                                   1913
+
+
+
+
+ERMELINE.
+
+
+With lance upraised so haughtily
+   Sir Thunye rides from Alsey town;
+On land and main he was, I ween,
+   A daring knight of high renown.
+
+Sir Thunye rides in good green wood,
+   He fain will chase the nimble hare;
+And there he meeteth the Dwarf’s daughter,
+   All with her band of maidens fair.
+
+Sir Thunye rides in good green wood,
+   To chase the nimble hart and hind;
+And there he meets the Dwarf’s daughter,
+   Beneath the linden bough reclin’d.
+
+She rested ’neath the linden’s shade,
+   The gold harp in her hand was seen:
+“O yonder I spy Sir Thunye ride,
+   I’ll bring him to my feet, I ween.
+
+“Now sit ye down, my maids so small,
+   And sit you down my little foot boy;
+For I the Runic note will play,
+   Till field and meadow bloom with joy.”
+
+Then struck she amain the Runic stroke,
+   The harp began so sweet to ring,
+The wild bird on the twig that sat
+   Forgot its merry song to sing.
+
+The wild bird on the bough that sat
+   Forgot its merry song to sing;
+The wild hart running in the shaw
+   Forgot forthwith to leap and spring.
+
+Then bloomed the mead, the bough burst forth,
+   As wildly rang that Runic strain;
+Sir Thunye fiercely spurred his steed,
+   But, ah! to ’scape he strove in vain.
+
+It was the knight Sir Thunye then
+   From his good courser bounded he;
+He went up to the Dwarf’s daughter,
+   And took his seat beside her knee.
+
+“Hail to thee, Daughter of the Dwarf!
+   Do thou become my wedded wife,
+And I’ll respect and honor thee,
+   All, all the days I gain in life.
+
+“Here sitt’st thou, Daughter of the Dwarf,
+   A rose amongst the lilies all;
+No man can see thee in this world
+   But thee his own he fain would call.”
+
+“Now list to me, Sir Thunye the knight,
+   Give up, I beg, this amorous play;
+I have already a bridegroom bold,
+   The King whom all the dwarfs obey.
+
+“My father sits within the hill,
+   He marshals there his elfin power;
+Next Monday morn my bridegroom bold
+   Shall bear me to his elfin bower.
+
+“My mother in the hill doth sit,
+   And plays with gold that round is strewn;
+But I stole away from out the hill,
+   To play upon my harp a tune.”
+
+“O ere the Dwarf shall thee possess,
+   And his shall be a bliss so high,
+O I will lose my youthful life,
+   And break my faulchion willingly.”
+
+Then answered straight the Dwarf’s daughter,
+   And with a frown thus answered she:
+“O thou may’st gain a lovelier bride,
+   But ne’er, Sir Knight, wilt thou gain me.
+
+“Now haste away, Sir Thunye the knight,
+   I rede thee for thy life take heed;
+My father and my bold bridegroom
+   I ween will both be here with speed.”
+
+It was her mother, the Dwarf’s Lady,
+   She peeped from out the mountain’s side;
+And she was aware of Sir Thunye there,
+   Standing beneath the linden wide.
+
+Out came her mother, the Dwarf’s Lady,
+   And anger shone upon her face:
+“Now hear Wolfhilda, daughter mine,
+   But ill beseems thee such a place.
+
+“Thou’dst better sit within the hill,
+   And sew the linen white as snow,
+Than come to strike the gold harp here,
+   Beneath the verdant forest bough.
+
+“The King of the Dwarfs has wedded thee.
+   Thy free consent he sought and won;
+Yet thou hast dared Sir Thunye here
+   To chain with stroke of magic Rune.”
+
+It was the daughter of the Dwarf
+   Must weeping into the mountain flee;
+Devoid of sense Sir Thunye went
+   Behind her, nor could hear nor see.
+
+But hear what did the wife of the Dwarf:
+   With silk so soft a stool she spread,
+And there he sat till crow of cock,
+   As though he had been stark and dead.
+
+But hear what did the wife of the Dwarf:
+   The book of power forth she brought,
+Therewith she broke the Runic thrall,
+   Wherein the hero had been caught.
+
+“Now have I freed thee from the Runes,
+   They never more can thee oppress:
+This have I done for honor’s sake,
+   My daughter thee shall not possess.
+
+“Much more, Sir Knight, for thee I’ll do,
+   For sheer goodwill and affection pure;
+I will for thee a bonnier bride
+   Than any elfin maid procure.
+
+“I was not born in this wild hill,
+   Of Christian folk I am the child;
+An only sister I possess,
+   And she Dame Ermeline is stil’d.
+
+“She bears the crown in merry England,
+   The crown and queenly dignity;
+Her daughter dear has stolen been,
+   For thus the tale was told to me.
+
+“Her daughter dear has stolen been,
+   She lieth now in strict durance;
+To blessed Kirk she may not go,
+   And far, far less to merry dance.
+
+“She ne’er may out of the window look
+   Except to watch her women stand;
+Nor play at tables with the King
+   Unless the Queen is close at hand.
+
+“Except the King, so aged and grey,
+   No earthly man she e’er has seen;
+Each night her chamber door is locked,
+   And she who locks it is the Queen.
+
+“The Damsel’s named proud Ermeline,
+   She sits in Upsal sorrowing sore;
+Whilst bolts of steel and iron bars
+   Make fast the Damsel’s chamber door.
+
+“The King he has a sister’s son,
+   And Allevod is the name he bears;
+And he’s to wed the lovely maid
+   As soon as he the Kingdom heirs.
+
+“But I will give thee saddle and horse,
+   And golden spurs I will supply;
+Thou ne’er shalt ride a path so wild
+   But thou shalt reach a hostelry.
+
+“And I will garments give to thee,
+   With gold adorned at the seam;
+And I will give thee a ruddy shield,
+   Wherein the richest diamonds gleam.
+
+“And I will give thee a silken band,
+   With roses ’tis embroider’d all;
+Whilst thou dost bear that girdle fair
+   No word thou say’st shall vainly fall.”
+
+Forth stepped the Daughter of the Dwarf,
+   For, ah! she loved the knight so dear:
+“And I will give thee a faulchion good,
+   And I will give thee a polished spear.
+
+“Thou ne’er shalt ride through wood so wide
+   But thou shalt surely find the way;
+And ne’er, Sir Knight, engage in fight
+   But victory thou shalt bear away.
+
+“Thou never, never shalt sail the sea
+   But in safety thou shalt come to land;
+Thou never, never shalt wounded be,
+   I ween, by any human hand.”
+
+It was the proud Dame Thorelile,
+   The clear wine into the cup she pour’d:
+“Now haste thee from the elfin hill,
+   Ere home arrive the elfin Lord.”
+
+Sir Thunye rides in the good green wood,
+   His spear it gleams so wide, so wide;
+And soon he meets the Dwarf himself,
+   To his mountain home as the Dwarf would ride.
+
+“Well met, well met, Sir Thunye the Knight,
+   Thy horse he speeds right gallantly;
+Say whither, whither dost thou ride?
+   On journey bound thou seemst to be.”
+
+“Riding to woo, Sir Dwarf, I am,
+   Riding to wed a beauteous lady;
+To break a spear I do not fear,
+   For weal or woe alike I’m ready.”
+
+“Ride on thy way, Sir Thunye the Knight,
+   Nought else than peace thou shalt have from me;
+In Upsal town a swain there lives
+   Will willingly break a lance with thee.”
+
+Sir Thunye rides in Sweden’s land,
+   Essay his fortune there would he;
+And there he found nine stalwart knights,
+   Stood armed beneath the forest tree.
+
+Upon their heads their helms were placed,
+   Their good shields glittered before their breasts;
+By their sides hung down their gilded swords,
+   And their spears hung ready within the rests.
+
+“Halloo, ye Swedish champions nine!
+   Say, will ye fight for honour now?
+Or will ye fight for ruddy gold,
+   Or the ladies’ love for whom ye glow?”
+
+Then answered Allevod, the King’s son,
+   High rose the pride his heart within:
+“Enough I have of honour and gold,
+   No more of either need I win.”
+
+“There sits a maid in Upsal town,
+   That maid is named proud Ermeline;
+By lance we’ll settle whose shall be
+   That lovely maiden, mine or thine.”
+
+The first course that together they rode
+   So furious were that knightly twain
+Asunder burst their shields of gold,
+   And their broken spears flew o’er the plain.
+
+But now the second course they ride,
+   And again they meet with a crash like thunder;
+Sir Allevod fell from his gilded selle,
+   His sturdy neck-bone burst asunder.
+
+That vexed sore the Swedish knights,
+   Their leader’s fall they fain would wrake;
+But fortune proved so stern and dour,
+   The good knight’s faulchion drove them back.
+
+It was then the Swedish knights
+   Their ruffled garb adjusted they;
+And unto the hall, the regal hall,
+   To the Swedish King they took their way.
+
+“A Jutt is come to our land, Sir King,
+   Armed and dight in elfin way;
+Of eight good knights the limbs he’s broke,
+   Who strove with him in battle fray.
+
+“Of eight good knights the limbs he broke,
+   Halt and lame they will aye remain;
+And upon the sod lies Allevod,
+   Thy sister’s son by that Jotun slain.”
+
+Then answer made the ancient King,
+   Rending his hair so long and grey:
+“With sable and mard I’ll them reward
+   Who dare this cursed Jutt to slay.”
+
+Forth rode the Swedish courtiers then,
+   To slay the Jutt so sure they made;
+But soon from them the vaunt he drove,
+   Such heavy blows on their polls he laid.
+
+No sable and mard was their reward,
+   When they returned from the battle fray;
+They must doff, I ween, their armour sheen,
+   And clothe them in the wadmal grey.
+
+That vexed the Swedish courtiers sore,
+   And in mournful guise they murmured out:
+“In Sweden’s land lives none can stand
+   Against this wild and sturdy Jutt.”
+
+Sir Thunye he to Upsal rides,
+   Respect and honour attend his path;
+The Swedish knights they held their peace,
+   And were only glad to escape his wrath.
+
+And he has broken the huge steel-bar,
+   And he the savage bears has slain;
+And out he has led the lovely maid
+   Who long in dreary thrall had lain.
+
+“Now welcome be, Sir Thunye the Knight,
+   Unto this savage Swedish clime;
+I say to thee in verity
+   I’ve sighed for thee a weary time.
+
+“When I was but a little child,
+   To me ’twas spaed that a knight should come
+From foreign land, should Allevod slay,
+   And to England’s realm should bear me home.
+
+“I beg of thee, Sir Thunye the Knight,
+   That thou as a Knight by me wilt stand;
+There liveth none beneath the sun,
+   To whom I’d sooner yield my hand.”
+
+Then answered amain Sir Thunye the Knight,
+   As he bowed his knee to the Lady fair;
+“With heart and hand by thee to stand,
+   By the holy name of Christ I swear.”
+
+And so he took the lovely maid,
+   With her store of gold so ruddy of hue;
+And to Denmark’s land he her conveyed,
+   Where a loving pair full soon they grew.
+
+He has carried her to his castle hall,
+   Like a blooming flower there she shone;
+Rejoicéd all, both great and small,
+   In Alsey’s ancient town that wone.
+
+It was bold Sir Thunye the Knight,
+   His knightly faith so well kept he;
+The next, next Monday morn he held
+   His bridal’s high festivity.
+
+’Twas noised about in merry England
+   The King’s lost daughter was found at last;
+Rejoiced, I ween, the King and Queen,
+   And away for ever their grief they cast.
+
+The King a scroll to Sir Thunye sent,
+   Wishing him luck with his Ermeline;
+And begged he’d come across the foam
+   That he to him might the crown resign.
+
+It was good Sir Thunye the Knight,
+   He spread on the yard his sails so wide;
+And they arrived in the far England
+   In less, I’m told, than two months’ tide.
+
+It was good Sir Thunye the Knight,
+   He steered his vessel towards the strand;
+And, lo! the ancient King and Queen
+   Were walking on the yellow sand.
+
+“Now welcome be Sir Thunye the Knight,
+   Thrice welcome be to this foreign strand;
+Of England all the fair kingdom shall
+   Be subject to thy knightly hand.”
+
+So he the kingdom has resigned,
+   And he has crowned the knight of fame;
+And dales and downs and England’s towns
+   Thus subject to the knight became.
+
+Now has Sir Thunye all achieved,
+   And now to joy may his heart resign;
+He rules by day old England gay,
+   And sleeps at night with his Ermeline.
+
+A King more powerful there is none
+   Than he, the flower of chivalry;
+The knights, they say, of Sweden pray
+   He never more their guest may be.
+
+
+
+
+THE CUCKOO’S SONG IN MERION.
+_From the Welsh of Lewis Morris_.
+
+
+Though it has been my fate to see
+   Of gallant countries many a one;
+Good ale, and those that drank it free,
+   And wine in streams that seemed to run;
+The best of beer, the best of cheer,
+   Allotted are to Merion.
+
+The swarthy ox will drag his chain,
+   At man’s commandment that is done;
+His furrow break through earth with pain,
+   Up hill and hillock toiling on;
+Yet with more skill draw hearts at will
+   The maids of county Merion.
+
+Merry the life, it must be owned,
+   Upon the hills of Merion;
+Though chill and drear the prospect round,
+   Delight and joy are not unknown;
+O who would e’er expect to hear
+   ’Mid mountain bogs the cuckoo’s tone?
+
+O who display a mien full fair,
+   A wonder each to look upon?
+And who in every household care
+   Defy compare below the sun?
+And who make mad each sprightly lad?
+   The maids of county Merion.
+
+O fair the salmon in the flood,
+   That over golden sands doth run;
+And fair the thrush in his abode,
+   That spreads his wings in gladsome fun;
+More beauteous look, if truth be spoke,
+   The maids of county Merion.
+
+Dear to the little birdies wild
+   Their freedom in the forest lone;
+Dear to the little sucking child
+   The nurse’s breast it hangs upon;
+Though long I wait, I ne’er can state
+   How dear to me is Merion.
+
+Sweet in the house the Telyn’s {23} strings
+   In love and joy where kindred wone;
+While each in turn a stanza sings,
+   No sordid themes e’er touched upon;
+Full sweet in sound the hearth around
+   The maidens’ song of Merion.
+
+And though my body here it be
+   Travelling the countries up and down;
+Tasting delights of land and sea,
+   True pleasure seems my heart to shun;
+Alas! there’s need home, home to speed—
+   My soul it is in Merion.
+
+                                * * * * *
+
+                                  LONDON
+               Printed for THOMAS J. WISE, Hampstead, N.W.
+                   _Edition limited to Thirty Copies_.
+
+
+
+
+Footnotes:
+
+
+{23}  The Harp.
+
+
+
+
+
+

passages/pg26792.txt

@@ -0,0 +1,566 @@
+
+
+
+Transcribed from the 1913 Thomas J. Wise pamphlet by David Price, email
+ccx074@pglaf.org
+
+
+
+
+
+                            GRIMMER AND KAMPER
+                     THE END OF SIVARD SNARENSWAYNE
+                            AND OTHER BALLADS
+
+
+                                    BY
+                              GEORGE BORROW
+
+                                 LONDON:
+                     PRINTED FOR PRIVATE CIRCULATION
+
+                                   1913
+
+               _Copyright in the United States of America_
+           _by Houghton_, _Mifflin & Co. for Clement Shorter_.
+
+
+
+
+GRIMMER AND KAMPER
+
+
+Grimmer walks upon the floor,
+   Well can Grimmer wield his sword:
+“Give to me fair Ingeborg,
+   For the sake of Christ our Lord.”
+
+“Far too little art thou, lad,
+   Thou about thee canst not hack;
+When thou comest ’mong other kemps,
+   Ever do they drive thee back.”
+
+“Not so little, Sire, am I,
+   I myself full well can guard;
+When I fight with kempions I
+   Gallantly can ply my sword.”
+
+“Kamper dwells in Birting’s land,
+   For a stalwart kemp he’s known;
+Thou shalt wed my daughter, if
+   Thou to earth canst hew him down.”
+
+Rage and grief his bosom filled,
+   Grimmer through the door retires:
+“What answer did my father give?”
+   Beauteous Ingeborg inquires.
+
+“Kamper dwells in Birting’s land,
+   And he bears a warlike name;
+If I him to death can smite,
+   I may thee with honour claim.”
+
+Answered him the fair young maid:
+   “Ah! my father seeks thy death,
+Kamper for thee is far too strong,
+   He will work thee rueful scathe.
+
+“But I’ll lend a helm to thee,
+   Thou may’st trust upon in fight;
+And an acton I’ll provide,
+   Whereupon no sword will bite.
+
+“I’ll give thee a faulchion good,
+   And a harness on to put;
+On earth’s ground no sword is found
+   Through that harness which can cut.
+
+“I will give to thee a sword
+   In thy youthful hand to bear;
+Thou therewith mayst iron cleave,
+   E’en as though it water were.”
+
+Kamper stands on Birtingsborough,
+   Thence so far he sees and wide:
+“What can be that little wreck
+   Hitherward that seems to glide?”
+
+It was little Grimmer bold
+   Steered his vessel straight to land;
+’Twas the bulky Kamper then
+   Tow’rds him stretched a friendly hand.
+
+“Welcome, little Grimmer, be!
+   Here no harm thou hast to fear;
+Half my land I’ll give to thee,
+   And my sister’s daughter dear.”
+
+“Ne’er will I that Ingeborg,
+   My beloved, should hear such shame,
+That I thy sister’s daughter took,
+   And thy friend that I became.
+
+“But we’ll go to Vimming’s hill,
+   And do battle, as is fit;
+One of us his life shall lose,
+   Ere the ring of death we quit.”
+
+Thereto answered Kamper bold,
+   He had such an eager hand:
+“I’ll the first blow have, forsooth,
+   ’Tis on my own earth we stand.”
+
+The first blow big Kamper struck,
+   Given ’twas with wrathful yell;
+He so hard has Grimmer struck,
+   Down to earth young Grimmer fell.
+
+Upstood little Grimmer then
+   Quickly little Grimmer rose:
+“Thou shalt also stand me one,
+   Ere the sun sinks to repose.”
+
+The next blow was Glimmer’s own,
+   Fierce he hewed with his right hand;
+He hewed on Kamper’s golden helm,
+   To his heart down went the brand.
+
+Kamper bellowed as he fell,
+   Dead upon the earth so hard:
+“Would to God that of my case
+   Knew my brother Rodengard!”
+
+Joyous little Grimmer was,
+   That the fight to end had come;
+Gold and silver much he took,
+   To the maid he bore it home.
+
+Blood forth streaming from his wound
+   Lies the mighty Kamper dead;
+Grimmer lives, the brave young swain,
+   Carries off his gold so red.
+
+When he had the victory won,
+   Little space he tarried there;
+Joyous sailed his men away,
+   Joyous with their booty fair.
+
+Standing on the battlement,
+   Looks the Damsel towards the strand:
+“Yonder I my youth espy,
+   See his vessel touch the strand.”
+
+Thanks to brave young Grimmer be,
+   For his faith he kept so well;
+On next Monday morn, at dawn,
+   Grimmer’s bridal feast befell.
+
+
+
+
+MIMMERING TAN
+
+
+The smallest man was Mimmering
+E’er born in the land of Carl the King.
+
+And ere he into the world was brought
+His clothes already were for him wrought.
+
+Ere yet he could walk across the floor,
+A ponderous iron cuirass he bore.
+
+And ere he had learnt to ride, to ride,
+His father’s sword to his hip he tied.
+
+The first time he his sword could bear
+A better knight breathed not the air.
+
+So down he went to the salt sea strand,
+As the merchants lay before the land.
+
+He saw then, under the steep hill’s side,
+A knight with sheeny armour ride.
+
+Coursing came he at headlong speed,
+Grim as a lion was his steed.
+
+“Now, gallant Sir Knight, to me attend,
+Wilt let me with thee as a shield boy wend?”
+
+“Thou art too little and young, I fear,
+My heavy harness thou canst not bear.”
+
+At that word Mimmering wrathful grew,
+The Knight from his steed to earth he threw.
+
+And much more harm to him was done,
+He smote his head against a stone.
+
+He clomb on the saddle and rode away,
+He’ll fain with other knights have a fray.
+
+And when to the green wood he had won,
+There met he Vidrik Verlandson.
+
+“Well met, well met, thou stalwart knight,
+Say, wilt thou for a fair maid fight?”
+
+Then straightway Vidrik made reply:
+“I’ll meet thee, dwarf, or no man am I.”
+
+They fought for a day, they fought for twain,
+Neither could from the other the victory gain.
+
+So good stall-brothership vowed have they,
+Which should endure to the judgment day.
+
+How should it endure that long time all?
+It could not last till evening-fall.
+
+
+
+
+THE END OF SIVARD SNARENSWAYNE
+
+
+Young Sivard he his step-sire slew
+   To avenge his mother’s wrongs;
+And now to sport in the Monarch’s court
+   Young Sivard sorely longs.
+
+It was Sivard Snarenswayne
+   To his mother’s presence strode:
+“Say, shall I ride from hence?” he cried,
+   “Or wend on foot my road?”
+
+“O never shalt thou go on foot
+   Whilst I’ve a horse in stall;
+I’ll give thee the steed of matchless breed,
+   Which courtiers Grayman call.”
+
+They led Grayman out of the stall,
+   His reins were gilt about;
+His eyes were bright as the clear star-light,
+   And fire from his bit sprang out.
+
+Off Sivard throws his gloves, like snows
+   The stripling’s hands appeared;
+And with all his force he girded the horse,
+   For to trust the groom he feared.
+
+It was Sivard’s mother dear,
+   In a kirtle red was clad:
+“The horse I fear will cost thee dear,
+   And that fear makes me sad.”
+
+She followed him a long, long way,
+   Her heart was filled with woe:
+“O take good heed of the Grayman steed,
+   He many a trick doth know!”
+
+“Now list to me, my mother dear,
+   Quick cast your care aside;
+To a son of worth thou hast given birth,
+   Who his horse full well can ride.”
+
+Away they go, o’er bridges now,
+   And now o’er brooks in flood;
+Clung so tight to his steed the knight
+   That his boots were filled with blood.
+
+The horse he hurried o’er the wold,
+   Right past the crowded Ting;
+Then wildly gazed the folk, amazed
+   That the horse he could so spring.
+
+For fifteen nights and for fifteen days
+   The speed of their race endured;
+Before them tall uprose a hall
+   With the gates all fast secured.
+
+The Dane King stood on the battlement,
+   And thence looked far and wide:
+“Some drunken peer is coming here,
+   Who his horse full well can ride.
+
+“O that is either a drunken peer,
+   On courser good and keen;
+Or that, I swear, is my sister’s heir,
+   And in battle he has been.”
+
+The horse did spit from his mouth the bit,
+   And, neighing, bounded high;
+Then maids and dames forsook their games
+   And trembled fearfully.
+
+Then maids and dames forsook their games,
+   And shook their weeds below;
+To meet the boy, his sister’s joy,
+   The King of the Danes did go.
+
+It was the mighty King of the Danes,
+   And thus the King he cried:
+“Ye archers, straight undo the gate,
+   And fling it open wide.”
+
+It was Sivard Snarenswayne,
+   Through the portal in rode he;
+Then dames fifteen of beauteous mien
+   Before him bent their knee.
+
+The Dane King to his merry men spake:
+   “I rede ye treat him fair;
+I tell to ye for a verity
+   No jesting he will bear.”
+
+It was Sivard Snarenswayne,
+   He made his courser bound
+Ten ells and more the ramparts o’er,
+   And thus his death he found.
+
+From his gilded selle down Sivard fell,
+   Snapped Grayman’s back outright;
+Wept great and small in the Monarch’s hall
+   For the wizard steed and knight.
+
+
+
+
+SIR GUNCELIN’S WEDDING
+
+
+It was the Count Sir Guncelin,
+   Who to his mother cried:
+“O I in quest of knightly fame
+   Through foreign lands will ride.”
+
+“And if thou from the land wilt ride,
+   To help thee on thy way,
+I give thee the steed, the wondrous steed,
+   The good steed Carl the grey.
+
+“I’ll give the steed for thy time of need,
+   The good grey Carl, but know
+No spur of steel must grace thy heel,
+   Nor helm be on thy brow.
+
+“Never a warrior must thou heed,
+   But straight thy path pursue,
+Till thou in fight engage the knight
+   Whose name is Ivor Blue.”
+
+It was the Count Sir Guncelin,
+   By the green hill took his way;
+There chanced he to meet little Tilventin,
+   And bade him promptly stay.
+
+“Now welcome little Tilventin,
+   And where hast thou passed the night?”
+“I have passed the night at Brattingsborg,
+   Where from helms the fire they smite!”
+
+It was the Count Sir Guncelin,
+   From under his red helm glared:
+“Sir Tilventin it had better been
+   If that thou hadst never declared.”
+
+It was the Count Sir Guncelin,
+   His sharp sword out he drew;
+It was little Tilventin,
+   Whom he did to pieces hew.
+
+He rode away unto Brattingsborg,
+   On the door he struck with his spear:
+“Doth any warrior bide therein,
+   Who will come and fight me here?”
+
+It was the Knight Sir Ivor Blue,
+   He turned to the West his eye:
+“Now help me Wolf and Asmer hawk,
+   I hear a kemp’s fierce cry.”
+
+It was the Knight Sir Ivor Blue,
+   He turned to the East his eye:
+“Now help me, Odin, for thou hast might,
+   I hear Sir Guncelin’s cry!”
+
+It was the Count Sir Guncelin,
+   His helm o’er his white neck flung;
+That sound in the ear of his mother dear
+   Through the dark night-time rung.
+
+The Dame awoke at black midnight,
+   And unto her Lord she cried:
+“Now deign, now deign, thou highest God,
+   With my son in this fray to bide!”
+
+The first course that together they rode,
+   So strong were the knightly twain,
+Struck Guncelin Sir Ivor Blue,
+   And stretched him on the plain.
+
+“Now listen, Count Sir Guncelin,
+   If thou’lt but let me live,
+My young and newly wedded bride,
+   I unto thee will give.”
+
+“I will not take thy wedded bride
+   Upon marriage stands my mind;
+Give me Salentia, sister thine,
+   And my fate to her’s I’ll bind.”
+
+They rode away to the bridal feast,
+   Withouten more ado;
+Of stalwart knights, and warrior wights,
+   They invited the best they knew.
+
+They invited Vidrik Verlandson,
+   And Diderik, knight of Bern;
+They invited Olger the Daneman too,
+   Who in battle is so stern.
+
+They invited Silvard Snarenswayne,
+   Who before the bride should ride;
+And thither came also Langben the Jutt,
+   To sit at the Bridegroom’s side.
+
+They invited Master Hildebrand,
+   The bridal torch he carried;
+And he was followed by Kempions twelve,
+   Deep drank they whilst they tarried,
+
+And thither came Folker Spilleman,
+   With his humour the kemps must bear;
+And thither came King Sigfrid Hoon,
+   To his own pain and care.
+
+Then came the proud Dame Grimhild,
+   To prepare the bride for the hall;
+With iron she caused her feet to be shod,
+   And her fingers with steel tipped all.
+
+And thither came Dame Gunda Hetta,
+   ’Mid the Norland hills her house;
+And there doth she pass a right merry life,
+   With dance and with carouse.
+
+Thither came likewise Dame Brynhild,
+   She cut for the bride the meat,
+Her followed slender ladies seven,
+   ’Midst the knights they took their seat.
+
+They follow’d the bride to the chamber in.
+   Of a luncheon slight to taste;
+And there she eat four tuns of pottage,
+   Which pleased her palate best.
+
+Then before her sixteen oxen-bodies,
+   And eighteen swine disappear;
+And before her thirst she could assuage,
+   She drank seven tuns of beer.
+
+So mighty the press of their garments was,
+   As they led the bride to the hall,
+That they brushed down, ere they ushered her in,
+   Full fifteen ells from the wall.
+
+They led the bride to the bride-bench up,
+   And sat themselves down so light,
+That a bench of stone which they sat upon,
+   Sank into the ground outright.
+
+They placed before her the very best food,
+   Nor did she the food decline;
+Fifteen oxen the sea-wife ate,
+   And also ten fat swine.
+
+The bridegroom’s eyes were upon her fixed,
+   And at length surprised he grew:
+“Ne’er have I seen a youthful bride,
+   To the dish such justice do.”
+
+Up then sprang the Kempions all,
+   And to one another did say:
+“Now, whether shall we cast the bar,
+   Or fight in knightly way?”
+
+The warriors began to describe the round,
+   Upon the verdant earth;
+For the honour and pride of the young sea-bride,
+   Who should look on their deeds of worth.
+
+The young bride up from the bride-bench sprang,
+   Two hands so weak had she;
+Towards her Langben the Giant leapt,
+   Fine sport began to be.
+
+Then danced the table, then danced the bench,
+   And the sparks from the helms flew high;
+Out ran the valiant warriors all:
+   “Dame Devil thou mak’st us fly!”
+
+Then there arose a mightier dance,
+   From Ribe unto the Slee;
+The shortest warrior dancing had
+   Fifteen ells beneath the knee.
+
+The shortest warrior in that dance,
+   Was little Mimmering Tan;
+He was among that heathenish throng
+   The only Christian man.
+
+
+
+
+EPIGRAMS
+
+
+Honesty
+
+
+No wonder honesty’s a lasting article,
+Seeing that people seldom use a particle.
+
+
+
+A Politician
+
+
+He served his God in such a fashion
+As ne’er put Satan in a passion.
+
+
+
+The Candle
+
+
+For foolish pastimes oft, full oft, they thee ignite,
+I oft a pastime prove for tongues with folly rife;
+By wasting of thyself thou yieldest others light,
+And I in self same way must use my luckless life.
+
+
+
+
+EPIGRAM ON HIMSELF
+BY WESSEL
+
+
+He ate, and drank, and slip-shod went,
+Was ever grieving and misgiving;
+For nothing fit, nor competent,
+At last not even fit for living.
+
+                                * * * * *
+
+                                 LONDON:
+               Printed for THOMAS J. WISE, Hampstead, N.W.
+
+                   _Edition limited to Thirty Copies_.
+
+
+
+
+
+

passages/pg26793.txt

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+
+
+
+Transcribed from the 1914 Thomas J. Wise pamphlet by David Price, email
+ccx074@pglaf.org
+
+
+
+
+
+THE EXPEDITION TO
+BIRTING’S LAND
+AND OTHER BALLADS
+
+
+                                    BY
+                              GEORGE BORROW
+
+                                 LONDON:
+                     PRINTED FOR PRIVATE CIRCULATION
+
+                                   1914
+
+               _Copyright in the United States of America_
+           _by Houghton_, _Mifflin & Co. for Clement Shorter_.
+
+
+
+
+THE EXPEDITION TO BIRTING’S LAND
+
+
+The King he o’er the castle rules,
+   He rules o’er all the land;
+O’er many a hardy hero too,
+   With naked sword in hand.
+
+Let the courtier govern his steed,
+   The boor his thatchèd cot,
+But Denmark’s King o’er castles rules,
+   For nobler is his lot.
+
+King Diderik sits on Brattingsborg,
+   And round he looks with pride:
+“No one I know of in the world
+   Would me in fight abide.”
+
+Then answered Brand Sir Viferlin,
+   Had been in many a land:
+“Methinks I know a warrior stout
+   Would thee in fight withstand.
+
+“He’s Ifald call’d, a king is he,
+   In Birting’s land afar;
+And he has fellows following him
+   With savage wolves who war.
+
+“O he has fellows following him
+   ’Gainst teeth of bears who fight;
+The food in which he most delights
+   Is flesh of Christian wight.
+
+“Every day in the East that dawns
+   His mouth he’s wont to cool
+With serpents, toads, and other filth,
+   That come from the hellish pool.”
+
+As Ifald sat on his throne that day
+   He thus was heard to cry:
+“Let some one bid my little foot page
+   To come to me instantly.
+
+“Now list to me, thou little foot page,
+   On my errand thee I’ll send
+Unto the King of Brattingsborg,
+   To whom I am no friend.
+
+“Tell him that he must tribute pay,
+   Or for bloody war prepare;
+Forsooth if him in the field I meet
+   I him will little spare.”
+
+Then answered straight the little foot page
+   And a gallant answer he gave:
+“My Lord thy message I’ll carry forth,
+   Though they lay me in my grave.”
+
+In came he, the little foot page,
+   And stood before the board:
+“Now list to me, King Diderik,
+   My master has sent you word.
+
+“Either tribute thou shalt pay,
+   As thou didst last year agree,
+Or thou shalt meet us in the field,
+   And bloodshed there shall be.”
+
+“I will not tribute pay, forsooth,
+   I scorn to stoop so low;
+Nay, rather unto Birting’s land
+   With sword unsheathed I go.”
+
+Then answer’d Vitting Helfredson,
+   And loud he laughed with glee:
+“If ye fare this year into Birting’s land
+   I too of the troop shall be.
+
+“Last year wast thou in Birting’s land,
+   And there didst lose thy steed;
+Thou hadst better stay in Brattingsborg
+   Than again seek Birting’s mead.”
+
+“On me, if I stay in Brattingsborg,
+   Be every malison;
+If I have no horse on which to ride
+   I have legs on which to run.”
+
+There rode out from Brattingsborg
+   So many a knight renown’d;
+The rocks were split ’neath the coursers’ feet,
+   And quaked the startled ground.
+
+There rode forth King Diderik,
+   The lion upon his shield;
+And there too glittered the golden crown
+   So far across the field.
+
+There rode Vidrik Verlandson,
+   The hammer and tongs he bore;
+And there rode good King Esmer’s sons,
+   All men of wondrous power.
+
+There rode the rich Count Rodengard,
+   A warrior stout and fine;
+And there rode King Sir Sigfred, who
+   Displayed a monarch’s sign.
+
+Then followed Siward Snarenswayne,
+   With many arrows white;
+And then came Brand Sir Viferlin,
+   Who never fled from fight.
+
+And next rode Hero Hogen,
+   He looked a rose so brave;
+And then rode Folker Spillemand,
+   In his hand a naked glaive.
+
+Then rode the bold young Ulf Van Yern,
+   A glorious horse upon;
+Behind him young Sir Humble rode,
+   And then Sir Sigfredson.
+
+And then rode Gunther and Gernot,
+   With arrow on bended bow;
+And there rode Sonne Tolkerson,
+   With courage upon his brow.
+
+There rode the little Grimmer,
+   In golden acton dight;
+And there rode Seyer the active,
+   Who yields to none in might.
+
+And then came master Hildebrand,
+   As though to his courser fixt;
+The stalwart friar Alsing rode
+   The ancient hero next.
+
+There rode Orm the Ungarswayne,
+   So bold of heart was he;
+So joyous were they every one,
+   And sure of victory.
+
+Out galloped they all from Brattingsborg,
+   As fast as they could speed;
+But Vitting bold came running behind,
+   Because he had no steed.
+
+It was hardy Angelfyr,
+   To Grimselin he cried:
+“O, he must on his bare legs run
+   Who has no horse to ride!”
+
+And still ran Vitting, and still ran he,
+   Till with wrath he nigh was wode;
+Then he struck a warrior from his horse
+   And sat himself on, and rode.
+
+It was Sir King Diderik,
+   He back a glance did throw:
+“O yonder I see the courtier ride
+   Who on foot was wont to go.
+
+“Here thou, Vitting Helfredson,
+   Thou art a warrior bold;
+Thou shalt hie forward to Birting’s land,
+   And demand the tribute gold.
+
+“With thee shall Vidrik Verlandson,
+   And Diderik knight of Bern;
+Of all my troop they are best at blows,
+   And most for battle yearn.”
+
+They set themselves upon their steeds,
+   And away they rode like wind;
+The knights they roared, and their steeds they gored,
+   For wroth were they in mind.
+
+The watchman stood on the battlement
+   From whence he far could see:
+“Yonder I warriors three espy
+   Who wrathful seem to be.
+
+“The one is Vitting Helfredson
+   Who lost his steed last year;
+That a rugged guest he’ll prove to us
+   We have full cause to fear.
+
+“The second is Vidrik Verlandson,
+   As the tongs and hammer shew;
+The third is Diderik Van Bern,
+   All warriors good, I trow.”
+
+They left their steeds in the castle yard,
+   To the castle strode they in;
+Then might each man by their faces see
+   A fray would soon begin.
+
+Upon the porter they laid their hands,
+   And him to pieces hew’d;
+Then in they strode to the high, high hall,
+   And before the King they stood.
+
+Then up rose Ifald the King in rage,
+   And thus the King did cry:
+“O, whence are come the ill-starr’d loons
+   Before my board I spy?”
+
+Then answered the skinker of the King,
+   Who skinkèd wine and mead:
+“Our sharp spears, if we ply them well,
+   Will drive them out with speed.”
+
+It was Vitting Helfredson,
+   By the beard the skinker has ta’en;
+He smote him a blow the ear below,
+   Which dashed out half his brain.
+
+He flung the dead corse on the board,
+   And a merry jest had he:
+“Who’ll taste,” said Vitting Helfredson,
+   “This precious roast for me?”
+
+Then forth stepped Diderik Van Bern,
+   And, brandishing his glaive,
+He hewed upon King Ifald’s head,
+   And him to the navel clave.
+
+And forth stepped Vidrik Verlandson,
+   And round began to hew;
+Heads and arms were smitten off
+   As round and round he flew.
+
+In came King Ifald’s mother grey,
+   With an eldritch scream she came;
+I tell to ye in verity
+   There ensued a wondrous game.
+
+Vitting struck her with his sword,
+   A very fearful stroke;
+But she kissed asunder the good sword,
+   Into pieces three it broke.
+
+With a single kiss of the witch’s mouth
+   Was shivered the trusty sword;
+Vitting the hag by the weazand seized,
+   Without a single word.
+
+The beldame changed herself to a crane,
+   And flew to the clouds on high;
+But Vitting donned a feather robe,
+   And pursued her through the sky.
+
+They flew for a day, they flew for three,
+   Bold Vitting and the crane;
+Then Vitting seized the crane by the legs,
+   And her body rent in twain.
+
+Homeward now, with sword in hand,
+   The valiant comrades wended:
+All the Birting kemps are dead,
+   And the adventure ended.
+
+
+
+
+THE SINGING MARINER
+_A Ballad from the Spanish_
+
+
+Who will ever have again,
+On the land or on the main,
+Such a chance as happen’d to
+Count Arnaldos long ago.
+
+With his falcon in his hand,
+Forth he went along the strand;
+There he saw a galley gay,
+Briskly bearing for the bay.
+
+Ask me not her name and trade,—
+All the sails of silk were made;
+He who steer’d the ship along
+Raised his voice, and sang a song.
+
+Sang a song whose magic force
+Calm’d the breaker in its course;
+While the fishes, sore amazed,
+Left their holes and upward gazed.
+
+And the fowl came flocking fast,
+Round the summit of the mast;
+Still he sang to wind and wave:
+“God preserve my vessel brave!
+
+“Guard her from the rocks that grow
+’Mid the sullen deep below;
+From the gust, and from the breeze,
+Sweeping through Gibtarek’s seas.
+
+“From the gulf of Venice too,
+With its shoals and waters blue;
+Where the mermaid chants her hymn,
+Borne upon the billow’s brim.”
+
+Forward stept Arnaldos bold,
+Thus he spake, as I am told:
+“Teach me, sailor, I entreat,
+Yonder song that sounds so sweet.”
+
+But the sailor shook his head,
+Shook it thrice, and briefly said:
+“Never will I teach the strain
+But to him who ploughs the main.”
+
+
+
+
+YOUTH’S SONG IN SPRING
+
+
+O, scarcely is Spring a time of pure bliss,
+   He is wrong who full trust thereon layeth;
+From many it may
+Take sorrow away,
+   But to many it trouble conveyeth.
+
+O, when every thing is as joyous in Spring,
+   As in heaven, that never is dreary;
+’Tis a grievous case
+If one mournful must pace,
+   And cannot be also merry!
+
+
+
+
+THE NIGHTINGALE
+_Translated from the Danish_
+
+
+In midnight’s calm hour the Nightingale sings
+   Of freedom, of love, and delight;
+Come, haste to the grove where melody rings,
+   ’Tis Philomel’s notes that invite.
+A fowler attentively follows her there,
+Resolv’d for his victim to spread out a snare:
+_Think_, _girls_, _of the Nightingale’s fate_, _and beware_!
+
+In ambush his nets he carefully brings,
+   Glad innocence feels no alarm;
+Unguarded her flight—’midst danger she wings—
+   And falls into sorrowful harm.
+Alas! she is silent, and full of despair,
+He glides away quick with his treasure so rare:
+_Think_, _girls_, _of the Nightingale’s fate_, _and beware_!
+
+A beautiful cage adorns his fair prize,
+   In hope that for him she will sing;
+But Freedom, that wafted her notes to the skies,
+   Bore Gladness away on its wing.
+Thus you, Philomela, resemble the fair,
+And we, we delight in the love that we share:
+_O_, _think of the Nightingale’s fate_, _and beware_!
+
+
+
+
+LINES
+
+
+Say from what mine took Love the yellow gold
+   To form those tresses? from what thorn-bush tore
+   Those roses sleek? and from what summit bore
+That stainless snow which seems no longer cold?
+
+
+
+
+MORNING SONG
+_Nu rinder Solen op_
+
+
+From Eastern quarters now
+   The sun’s up-wandering,
+His rays on the rock’s brow
+   And hill’s side squandering.
+Be glad, my soul! and sing amidst thy pleasure,
+   Fly from the house of dust,
+   Up with thy thanks, and trust
+To heaven’s azure!
+
+O, countless as the grains
+   Of sand so tiny,
+Measureless as the main’s
+   Deep waters briny,
+God’s mercy is, which He upon me showereth.
+   Each morning in my shell,
+   A grace immeasurable
+To me down-poureth.
+
+Thou best dost understand,
+   Lord God! my needing;
+And placed is in Thy hand
+   My fortune’s speeding,
+And Thou foresee’st what is for me most fitting.
+   Be still, then, O my soul!
+   To manage in the whole
+Thy God permitting.
+
+May fruit the land array,
+   And corn for eating!
+May truth e’er make its way,
+   With justice meeting!
+Give thou to me my share with every other,
+   ’Till down my staff I lay,
+   And from this world away
+Wend to another!
+
+
+
+
+FROM THE FRENCH
+
+
+This world by fools is occupied,
+   And whom the sight of a fool displeases,
+Within his chamber himself should hide,
+   And break his looking-glass to pieces.
+
+
+
+
+THE MORNING WALK
+
+
+To the beech grove with so sweet an air
+   It beckon’d me.
+O, Earth! that never the cruel plough-share
+   Had furrow’d thee!
+In their dark shelter the flowerets grew,
+   Bright to the eye,
+And smil’d by my foot on the cloudlets blue,
+   Which deck’d the sky.
+
+To the wood through a field I took my way;
+   There I could see
+On the field an uppil’d stone-heap lay,
+   ’Twixt hillocks three;
+So anciently grayly white it stood,
+   An oblong ring:
+Here doubtless was held in the old time good
+   A royal Ting.
+
+The royal stone, which there doth stand,
+   The Stol-king press’d,
+With crown on head, and sceptre in hand,
+   In sables drest.
+And every warrior solemnly pac’d
+   Peaceful in thought,
+And down on his stone himself calmly plac’d—
+   No sword he brought.
+
+The king’s house stood on yonder height,
+   With walls of power;
+On yon had his daughter, the damsel bright,
+   Her maiden bower.
+Upon the third the temple stood,
+   Through the North famed wide,
+Where to Thor was offered the he-goat’s blood,
+   In reeking tide.
+
+O, lovely field! and forest fair,
+   And meads grass-clad;
+Her bride-bed Freya every where
+   Enamelled had.
+The corn-flowers rose in azure band
+   From earthly cell;
+Nought else could I do but stop and stand,
+   And greet them well.
+
+Welcome on earth’s green breast again,
+   Ye flowerets dear!
+In spring how charming ’mid the grain
+   Your heads ye rear.
+Like stars ’midst lightning’s yellow ray
+   Ye shine red, blue:
+O, how your summer aspect gay
+   Delights my view.
+
+O poet! poet! silence keep,
+   God help thy case:
+Our owner holds us sadly cheap,
+   And scorns our race.
+Each time he sees, he calls us scum,
+   Or worthless tares;
+Hell-weeds that but to vex him come
+   ’Midst his corn-ears.
+
+The greatest grace done for our sake
+   In all his life,
+Is from his pocket deep to take
+   His huge clasp knife;
+And heavy handful then to cut,
+   ’Midst grumbling much—
+Us with tobacco leaves to put
+   In seal-skin pouch.
+
+He says, he says, that smoked this way,
+   We dross of the field,
+To the world by chance, by poor chance, may
+   Some benefit yield;
+But as for our beauty, our blue and red hues,
+   ’Tis folly indeed—
+The mouth is his only test of use,
+   And that’s his creed.
+
+O wretched mortals!—O wretched man!
+   O wretched crowd!—
+No pleasures ye pluck—no pleasures ye plan
+   In life’s lone road:—
+Whose eyes are blind to the glories great
+   Of the works of God;
+And dream that the mouth is the nearest gate
+   To joy’s abode.
+
+Come flowers! for we to each other belong,
+   Come graceful elf,
+And around my lute in sympathy strong
+   Now wind thyself;
+And quake as if mov’d by zephyr’s wing,
+   ’Neath the clang of the chord,
+And a morning song with glee we’ll sing
+   To our Maker and Lord!
+
+                                * * * * *
+
+                                 LONDON:
+
+               Printed for THOMAS J. WISE, Hampstead, N.W.
+
+                   _Edition limited to Thirty Copies_.
+
+
+
+
+
+

passages/pg26805.txt

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+
+
+
+Transcribed from the 1913 Thomas J. Wise pamphlet by David Price, email
+ccx074@pglaf.org
+
+
+
+
+
+                               LITTLE ENGEL
+                                 A BALLAD
+                             WITH A SERIES OF
+                        EPIGRAMS FROM THE PERSIAN
+
+
+                                    BY
+                              GEORGE BORROW
+
+                                 LONDON:
+                     PRINTED FOR PRIVATE CIRCULATION
+
+                                   1913
+
+
+
+
+LITTLE ENGEL.
+
+
+It was the little Engel, he
+   So handsome was and gay;
+To Upland rode he on a tide
+   And bore a maid away.
+
+In ill hour he to Upland rode
+   And made a maid his prize;
+The first night they together lay
+   Was down by Vesteryse.
+
+It was the little Engel he
+   Awoke at black midnight,
+And straight begins his dream to state
+   In terror and affright.
+
+“Methought the wolf-whelp and his dam,
+   The laidly she-wolf gray,
+Tore out my heart, and twixt their teeth
+   Did hold it as I lay.”
+
+“That thou dream’st little Engel thus
+   Can cause slight wonderment,
+When me thou’st ta’en by might and main
+   Nor asked my friends’ consent.”
+
+In came Solwey Johnsen then
+   And stood before the table;
+He was I ween, a clever lad,
+   And well to speak was able.
+
+“Hear thou, my lord, Little Engel,
+   Rise up and straight begone;
+For here Sir Godey Loumand comes
+   By four ways to the town.”
+
+“I fear not four, Solwey Johnsen,
+   Nor five fear I, nor ten!
+I fear not Godey Sir Loumand, though
+   He come with thirty men.”
+
+“O there are more than four, Sir,
+   Or five, Sir, or than ten;
+Here cometh Godey Sir Loumand with
+   A hundred armed men.”
+
+It was the little Engel, he
+   Took Malfred in his arm:
+“Now, dearest heart, some counsel give
+   May free us from this harm.”
+
+It was the little Engel, her
+   Upon the white cheek kiss’d:
+“Now do thou hear, my bosom’s dear,
+   With counsel us assist.”
+
+“The best advice that I can give
+   I’ll give thee in this case;
+To Mary’s Church we will retire,
+   They’ll ne’er destroy that place.
+
+“We’ll gold and silver take, and on
+   The scale we’ll pile them high;
+To-morrow from the Churchmen we
+   The holy place will buy.
+
+“Around you call your merry men all
+   To whom you’ve given bread;
+For refuge we to the Kirk will flee
+   Since we are thus bestead.
+
+“Do you take all your merry men who
+   Your coursers’ backs have prest;
+We’ll hie us to our Lady’s church,
+   And set our hearts at rest.
+
+“That’s the best counsel, love, I know,
+   A simple woman I;
+In Mary’s house we’ll lock ourselves,
+   And there our foes defy.”
+
+It was the little Engel,
+   Into the church he went:
+Sir Loumand to beleaguer him
+   A hundred men has sent.
+
+Before the kirk his men they lay
+   Till full five months were past;
+It was Godey Sir Loumand
+   So wrathful grew at last.
+
+Then spake the mother of little Malfred,
+   With hate ’gainst her was fill’d:
+“The Kirk of Maria burn with fire,
+   And it with gold rebuild.”
+
+The fire began to burn, to burn,
+   The sparkles in they flew;
+At that adread was little Malfred,
+   And ashy pale she grew.
+
+It was so hot in the Kirk yard when
+   Abroad the blazes sped;
+But in the Kirk still hotter when
+   In poured the melted lead.
+
+It was the little Malfred,
+   So frantic was her mood:
+“O let us quick the horses stick,
+   And cool us with their blood.”
+
+Then little Engel answer made,
+   As on the floor he stood:
+“But coolness small shall we derive
+   From our good coursers’ blood.”
+
+Answered the groom who loved the steeds
+   As dearly as his breath:
+“Ye’d better little Malfred stick,
+   She well deserveth death.”
+
+It was the little Engel,
+   His arms round Malfred twin’d:
+“No death hast thou deserved from us,
+   And none from us shalt find.
+
+“My little Malfred, do thou hear
+   What I now say to thee;
+If a son this year thou chance to bear,
+   That son name after me.”
+
+They placed her on a buckler,
+   They placed their spears below,
+And through the window lifted her
+   With hearts so full of woe.
+
+It was the little Malfred round
+   The church goes staggering now,
+Scorched were her scarlet robes, and scorched
+   The ringlets on her brow.
+
+It was the little Malfred fell
+   Upon her white bare knee:
+“O may I bear a son this year,
+   The avenger of this to be.”
+
+So they the little Malfred took
+   And in a mantle roll’d,
+And sorrowfully lifted her
+   Upon a courser bold.
+
+Outspake the little Malfred when
+   She reached the verdant plain:
+“Burnt is our Lady’s house this day,
+   And burnt so bold a swain.
+
+“Burnt is our Lady’s house, and burnt
+   Therein so brave a swain;
+His equal till the day of doom
+   We ne’er shall see again.”
+
+It happened in the autumn tide,
+   The autumn of that year,
+That she within her secret bower,
+   A beauteous boy did bear.
+
+To the holy Kirk they carried him,
+   They christened him at night;
+They called him little Engel, and
+   Concealed him whilst they might.
+
+They fostered him for winter one,
+   And so on, till he grew
+The fairest knight beneath the sun
+   That you did ever view.
+
+So well he grew and throve until
+   Seven years had passed away:
+“Thy uncle slew thy sire, my boy,
+   For the first time, that I say.”
+
+Still with his mother he remained
+   Till five more years were sped:
+“Thy uncle slew thy father, boy,”
+   He heard most often said.
+
+“Now do thou hear, my mother dear,
+   Who sittest clad in pall;
+Up under Oe I’ll riding go,
+   And serve in the Monarch’s hall.”
+
+“Yes, ride thee hence to Court, and there
+   To win thee honor try;
+Forget not who thy father slew,
+   For the last time I cry.”
+
+He served so long at court that he
+   His friend the Dane King made;
+With heavy heart he’d sit apart
+   Whilst others laugh’d and play’d.
+
+The Danish King observed at last
+   He grieved at seasons all:
+“Now hear, good youth, I’d know forsooth
+   Why thou art sorrow’s thrall.
+
+“Thou grievest like the little bird
+   The greenwood bough upon;
+Thou seemest like the lonely wight
+   Whose friends are dead and gone.”
+
+“Now do thou hear, thou King of the Danes,
+   With grief I down am weigh’d;
+My uncle slew my sire of old,
+   And no atonement made.”
+
+“If thou wilt up of the country ride,
+   And well avenge that deed,
+As many of my men to thee
+   I’ll lend, as thou shalt need.
+
+“If thou’lt avenge thy father’s death,
+   Thou shalt have fitting aid;
+Three hundred of my men to thee
+   I’ll lend, in steel array’d.”
+
+It was the little Engel, he
+   Rides in the greenwood shade;
+He marshals there his good men all,
+   And sets him at their head.
+
+In haste came in the little footboy,
+   And stood before the table;
+He was I ween a clever lad,
+   And well to speak was able.
+
+“Now hear, Sir Godey Loumand, hear,
+   Arise and straight begone;
+Little Engel’s coming with his troop
+   By four ways to the town.
+
+“Little Engel’s coming with his troop,
+   And he’ll be on us soon;
+And wroth is he, as wroth can be,
+   His war-lance scrapes the moon.”
+
+“At Stevn and Ting, my boy, I’ve been,
+   And wherever people mingle;
+But ne’er, I swear, have I been where
+   I’ve heard of little Engel.”
+
+It was Godey Sir Loumand,
+   He stroked the page’s cheek;
+“If thou canst give any good advice,
+   My pretty footboy, speak.”
+
+“If I can give any good advice
+   Most certainly I will;
+In your stone bower yourself immure
+   From the approaching ill.
+
+“The walls they are of marble stone,
+   The doors they are of lead;
+’Twill wondrous be, my lord, if we
+   Therein are prisoners made.”
+
+It was the little Engel, he
+   Halted a while to gaze:
+“O there doth lie the Kirk, where died
+   My sire in smoke and blaze.
+
+“And there doth stand the castle, where
+   My uncle doth reside;
+The amends that he shall pay this day
+   The Lord in heaven decide.”
+
+By four ways they the bower beset,
+   And for admission call:
+The little Engel, sprightly elf,
+   Was foremost of them all.
+
+It was Godey Sir Loumand, through
+   The casement out looked he:
+“Now hark, ye knaves, bid your captain tell
+   Why ye bawl so furiously?”
+
+Then answered little Engel straight
+   Beneath his mantle ruddy:
+“Engel he’s stiled, your sister’s child,
+   And I am he, Sir Godey.”
+
+Then answered Godey Sir Loumand, he
+   Was surely wroth thereat:
+“Ride hence, and boast not of thy birth,
+   Thou art a bastard brat.”
+
+“And though a bastard brat I be,
+   My fortune’s not the worse;
+Enough I hold of silver and gold,
+   And ride on a gallant horse.
+
+“And if a bastard brat I be,
+   Thou mad’st me that I trow;
+But still I’ve towers, and pleasant bowers,
+   And of green woods enow.
+
+“My sire thou slew’st, and no amends
+   To me didst ever make;
+Now scoff thou hast upon me cast,
+   For which thy life I’ll take.
+
+“Bring gold, my merry men, and that
+   Before the threshold lay;
+We’ll burn the bower this very hour,
+   We well for it can pay.”
+
+’Twas hot within the foreroom when
+   The fire began to roar;
+But hotter in the stone bower, when
+   The lead began to pour.
+
+It was the little Engel, he
+   His courser never turned
+To ride away from the castelaye
+   Before the bower was burned.
+
+Away at last he rode, and waved
+   His hand in exultation,
+Upon espying his uncle lying
+   Amidst the conflagration.
+
+Said little Engel, when he saw
+   His uncle’s body shrink:
+“Now thou hast quaffed the self same draught
+   Thou mad’st my father drink.”
+
+It was the little Engel, rode
+   Home to his mother’s hall;
+Before it stood his mother good,
+   So fair arrayed in pall.
+
+“Here dost thou stand, my mother dear,
+   Arrayed in robes of pall;
+I’ve ridden up the land, and well
+   Avenged my father’s fall.”
+
+It was the fair Dame Malfred, wrung
+   Her hands and wept amain:
+“I’d but one care before to bear,
+   And now, alas, have twain!”
+
+“Dear mother, thou wouldst have it so,
+   Now thee in tears I find,
+When duteously thy will I’ve done:
+   How strange is woman’s mind!”
+
+He turned his steed and rode away,
+   His face with anger red;
+With dishevelled hair, the Dame stood there,
+   Such woeful tears she shed.
+
+The little Engel hied him to
+   The King his master’s court;
+Abroad the Dane King stood, and hailed
+   The youth in kindest sort.
+
+Into the hall Sir Engel then
+   With the good monarch went:
+“My choicest thanks, thou noble King,
+   For thy brave warriors lent.
+
+“Now I’ve avenged my father’s death,
+   Burnt is Sir Godey’s bower;
+And he therein has found a tomb,
+   Who slew my sire of yore.”
+
+
+
+
+AN ELEGY.
+
+
+Where shall I rest my hapless head,
+   Heavy with grief? how plenteously
+Must I the briny torrents shed—
+   _Alack and woe is me_!
+
+Our chief is gone, at last, at last,
+   The safeguard of our nation he;
+The glory of our age is past—
+   _Alack and woe is me_!
+
+Unto the swords, O father dear,
+   Of foemen thirsting horribly
+For blood, why leave thy children here?
+   _Alack and woe is me_!
+
+Of justice is the fountain dried,
+   And mute the law’s high symphony;
+Fallen is Europa’s brightest pride—
+   _Alack and woe is me_.
+
+There is a change of times and things
+   That passeth on eternally.
+Decreed by Him, the King of Kings—
+   _’Tis right_—_but woe is me_!
+
+Now is the earth with violets gay,
+   And flowers manifold to see;
+Now frozen ’neath the winter’s sway—
+   _How brief the roses be_!
+
+Now shews the sun his head of gold
+   With a superior brilliancy;
+Now hides as were he dead and cold—
+   _Alack and woe is me_.
+
+O father! I will lave thy tomb
+   With tear-drops well becoming me;
+Thy tomb with flowery herbs perfume—
+   _How brief the roses be_!
+
+
+
+
+EPIGRAMS.
+_From the Persian_.
+
+
+1.
+
+
+Hear what once the pigmy clever
+   To the stupid giant said:
+Things are not of highest value
+   Which do highest rear their head;
+The sluggish horse is nothing better
+   Than the donkey lowest bred.
+
+
+
+2.
+
+
+The man who of his words is sparing
+   His strength and weakness hidden keeps;
+Think not every thicket empty,
+   Perchance in one a tiger sleeps.
+
+
+
+3.
+
+
+If thou would’st ruin ’scape, and blackest woe,
+   Unto these words, these precious words attend:
+Never be heedless of a mortal foe,
+   Nor choose a proud and envious man for friend.
+
+
+
+4.
+
+
+Sit down with your friends in delightful repose
+   When war and contention you see ’midst your foes;
+But when to an end their contentions they bring,
+   Then, then seize the bow, and get ready the sling.
+
+
+
+5.
+
+
+The hungry hound upon the bone will pounce
+   He prowling finds, and not mistrustful pass;
+He asks not whom it did belong to once,
+   The prophet’s camel or the sinner’s ass.
+
+
+
+6.
+
+
+Great Aaroun is dead, and is nothing, the man
+   Who left forty castles replete with gold store;
+But living though dead is the great Nourshwan,
+   In the good name he left he has death triumphed o’er.
+
+
+
+7.
+
+
+Though God provides our daily bread,
+   Yet all must seek that bread I ween;
+Though all must die, there is no need
+   To rush the dragon’s jaws between.
+
+
+
+8.
+THE KING AND HIS FOLLOWERS.
+
+
+If in the boor’s garden the King eats a pear,
+His servants rapacious the tree will uptear;
+For every five eggs he gives bounteously, more
+Than five hundred fowls will his armies devour.
+
+
+
+9.
+THE DEVOUT MAN AND THE TYRANT.
+
+
+If the half of a loaf the devout man receives,
+The half of that half to the wretched he gives;
+But no sooner a tyrant one kingdom has ta’en,
+Than the wish of his heart is another to gain.
+
+
+
+10.
+THE CAT AND THE BEGGAR.
+
+
+If a cat could the power of flying enjoy,
+She all the world’s sparrows would quickly destroy;
+If power in the hands of a beggar you place,
+No mercy he’ll show to the beggarly race.
+
+
+
+11.
+THE KING AND TAYLOR.
+
+
+The taylor who travels in far foreign lands,
+Can always get bread by the work of his hands;
+But the King who from throne and from country has fled,
+Must oft without supper go sighing to bed.
+
+
+
+12.
+GOLD COIN AND STAMPED LEATHER.
+
+
+Of the children of wisdom how like is the face
+To pure gold that’s accepted in every place;
+But the ignorant great are much like leather cash,
+At home which though current, abroad is but trash.
+
+
+
+13.
+
+
+So much like a friend with your foe ever deal,
+That you never need dread the least scratch from his steel;
+But ne’er with your friend deal so much like a foe,
+That you ever must dread from his faulchion a blow.
+
+                                * * * * *
+
+                                 LONDON:
+               Printed for THOMAS J. WISE, Hampstead, N.W.
+
+                   _Edition limited to Thirty Copies_.
+
+
+
+
+
+

passages/pg26834.txt

@@ -0,0 +1,573 @@
+
+
+
+Transcribed from the 1913 Thomas J. Wise pamphlet by David Price, email
+ccx074@pglaf.org
+
+
+
+
+
+                             THE NIGHTINGALE
+                          THE VALKYRIE AND RAVEN
+                            AND OTHER BALLADS
+
+
+                                    BY
+                              GEORGE BORROW
+
+                                 LONDON:
+                     PRINTED FOR PRIVATE CIRCULATION
+
+                                   1913
+
+               _Copyright in the United States of America_
+          _by Houghton_, _Mifflin and Co. for Clement Shorter_.
+
+
+
+
+THE NIGHTINGALE, OR THE TRANSFORMED DAMSEL
+
+
+I know where stands a Castellaye,
+   Its turrets are so fairly gilt;
+With silver are its gates inlaid,
+   Its walls of marble stone are built.
+
+Within it stands a linden tree,
+   With lovely leaves its boughs are hung,
+Therein doth dwell a nightingale,
+   And sweetly moves that bird its tongue.
+
+A gallant knight came riding by,
+   He heard its dulcet ditty ring;
+And sorely, sorely, wondered he
+   At midnight hour that it should sing.
+
+"And hear, thou little Nightingale,
+   If thou to me wilt sing a lay,
+Thy feathers I'll with gold bedeck,
+   Thy neck with costly pearls array."
+
+"With golden feathers others lure,
+   Such gifts for me have value slight;
+I am a strange and lonely bird,
+   But little known to mortal wight."
+
+"And thou, a strange wild bird thou be,
+   Whom other mortals little know;
+Yet hunger pinches thee, and cold,
+   When falls the cruel winter snow."
+
+"I laugh at hunger, laugh at snow,
+   Which falls so wide on hill and lea;
+But I am vexed by secret care,
+   I know not either joy or glee.
+
+"Betwixt the hills and valleys deep
+   Away the rapid rivers flow;
+But ah! remembrance of true love
+   From out the mind will never go.
+
+"O I had once a handsome love,
+   A famous knight of valour he;
+But ah! my step-dame all o'erturn'd,
+   She vowed our marriage ne'er should be.
+
+"She changed me to a Nightingale,
+   Bade me around the world to fly;
+My Brother she changed to a wolf so gray,
+   Bade him into the forest hie.
+
+"She told him, as the wood he sought,
+   That he should win his shape no more,
+'Till he had drunk her heart's blood out,
+   And that befell when years were o'er.
+
+"It happened on a summer tide,
+   Amidst the wood she wandered gay,
+My brother saw and watched her close,
+   From 'neath the bushes where he lay.
+
+"He seized her quickly by the foot,
+   All with his laidly wolfish claw;
+Tore out her heart, and drank her blood,
+   And thus released himself he saw.
+
+"Yet I am still a little bird,
+   And o'er the verdant meads I fly;
+So sorrowful I pass my life,
+   But mostly 'neath the winter's sky.
+
+"But God be thanked, he me has waked,
+   And speech from him my tongue has won;
+For fifteen years I have not spoke
+   As I with thee, Sir Knight, have done.
+
+"But ever with a mournful voice,
+   Have sung the green wood bough upon;
+And had no better dwelling place
+   Than gloomy forests, sad and lone."
+
+"Now hear, thou little Nightingale,
+   This simple thing would I propose,
+In winter sit within my bower,
+   And hie thee forth when summer blows."
+
+"O many thanks, thou handsome knight
+   Thy offer would I accept full fane;
+But ah, my step-dame that forbade
+   Whilst still in feather I remain."
+
+The Nightingale sat musing deep,
+   Unto the knight she paid no heed,
+Until he seized her by the foot,
+   For God I ween had so decreed.
+
+He carried her to his chamber in,
+   The doors and windows fast he made;
+Then changed she to the strangest beasts
+   That ever mortal eye survey'd.
+
+A lion now, and now a bear,
+   And now a coil of hissing snakes;
+At last a Dragon she became,
+   And furious she the knight attacks.
+
+He cut her with a little knife,
+   So that her blood did stain the floor;
+Then straight before his eye there stood
+   A Damsel bright as any flower.
+
+"Now, Damsel fair, I've rescued thee
+   From thraldom drear and secret care;
+Now tell me of thy ancestry,
+   Thy parents and thy race declare."
+
+"My father he was England's King,
+   My mother was his lovely Queen;
+My brother once a grey wolf was,
+   And trotted o'er the wold so green."
+
+"If England's King thy father was,
+   And thy dear mother England's Queen,
+Thou art my sister's daughter then,
+   Who long a Nightingale has been."
+
+O there was joy throughout the land,
+   And all the court was filled with glee;
+The Knight has caught the Nightingale,
+   That dwelt within the linden tree.
+
+
+
+
+THE VALKYRIE AND RAVEN
+
+
+Ye men wearing bracelets
+   Be mute whilst I sing
+Of Harald the hero--
+   High Norroway's king;
+I'll duly declare
+   A discourse which I heard,
+Betwixt a bright maiden
+   And black raven bird.
+
+The Valkyrie's vext
+   No war-field to find;
+The speech she knew well
+   Of the wild feather'd kind,
+And thus she bespake him
+   Who bears the brown bill,
+So proud as he perch'd on
+   The peak of the hill.
+
+"What do you here, ravens,
+   And whence come ye, say,
+Your heads turn'd direct to
+   The dying sun's ray?
+Bits of flesh hold your claws--
+   There's blood flowing free
+From your beaks, surely nigh
+   Dead bodies there be."
+
+Then wiping his beak,
+   Bloody red, on the rock,
+The eagle's sworn brother
+   Thus answer'd and spoke:
+"Harald we've follow'd,
+   Of Halfdan the son,
+Ever since from the egg
+   That we egress have won."
+
+"Then ye know, bird, the king,
+   Whose keep is in Kvine,
+The young king--the Norse king--
+   Whose keels cut the brine;
+Red-rimm'd are his bucklers,
+   Betarr'd are his oars--
+His sails are all bleach'd
+   With the sea-spray and showers."
+
+"Abroad will drink Yule,
+   The young king, and will try
+To wake up, O maiden,
+   The wild game of Frey,
+Of the warmth of the hearth
+   He weary is grown;
+He loathes the close chamber
+   And cushions of down.
+
+"Heard ye not the hard fight
+   Near Hafirsfirth beach,
+'Twixt the king of high kindred
+   And Kotva the rich?
+Sail'd ships from the East
+   Prepared for war stern;
+Their dragon heads gaped,
+   Their gilded sides burn.
+
+"They were fill'd with proud freemen
+   Well furnish'd with shields,
+And the very best weapons
+   The western land yields;
+Grimly the Baresarkers
+   Grinn'd, biting steel,--
+Howl'd the wolf-heathens
+   War madness they feel.
+
+"They moved 'gainst the monarch
+   Whose might makes them pine,
+'Gainst the king--the Norse king--
+   Who keeps court at Utstein;
+Flinch'd the king's bark at first,
+   For they ply'd her right well--
+There was hammering on helmets
+   Ere Haklangr fell.
+
+"Left the land to the lad
+   With the locks long and full,
+Rich Kotva, the lord,
+   Thick of neck, like the bull;
+'Neath the thwarts themselves threw,
+   They who'd wounds, in despair,
+Their heads to the keel
+   And their heels to the air.
+
+"On their shoulders their shields,
+   Such as Swafni's roof form,
+Flinging swift as a fence
+   From the fierce stony storm;
+The yeomen affrighted
+   From Hafirsfirth speed,
+And arrived at their homes
+   They call hoarsely for mead.
+
+"The slain strew the strand
+   To the very great joy
+Of ourselves and of Odin,
+   The chief of one eye."
+
+                               _Valkyrie_.
+
+"Of his wars and his prowess
+   With wonder I've heard;
+Now speak of his wives
+   And his women, O bird!"
+
+                                 _Raven_.
+
+"He had damsels from Holmygg
+   And Hordaland, too;
+And damsels from Hedemark
+   Dainty of hue;
+But he sent them with gifts
+   To their countries again,
+When he wedded Ranhilda
+   The beautiful Dane."
+
+                               _Valkyrie_.
+
+"I warrant he's bounteous!
+   And well doth reward
+The warriors and gallants
+   His kingdom who guard."
+
+                                 _Raven_.
+
+"O, yes, he is bounteous!
+   And bravely they fare
+Who in Harald's dominions
+   Hew food for the bear;
+With coin he presents them,
+   And keen polish'd glaives,
+With mail from Hungaria
+   And Osterland slaves."
+
+"O happy lives have they
+   Who help him in war,
+Can run to the mast-head
+   Or manage the oar;
+Make the row-locks to creak,
+   And the row-bench to crack,
+And in their lord's service
+   Are never found slack."
+
+                               _Valkyrie_.
+
+"Of the Skalds now I'll ask thee,
+   The sons of the strain,
+By whom deathless honor
+   He hopes to obtain;
+I doubt not, O Raven,
+   That thou knowest well
+The workers of verse
+   Who at Harald's court dwell."
+
+                                 _Raven_.
+
+"By their gallant array,
+   By the armlets they bear
+All of gold, you may learn
+   To their lord they are dear;
+Ruddy kirtles they have
+   That are laced at the skirts,
+Swords silver inlaid,
+   And steely mail shirts:
+All gilded their hilts,
+   Their helmets all graven;
+Gold rings on their hands."
+
+                               _Valkyrie_.
+
+   "Now read me, O Raven,
+Of the Baresarkers--how
+   Do ye style them who wade
+In blood ankle-deep
+   By no danger dismay'd?"
+
+                                 _Raven_.
+
+"Wolf-heathens they hight,
+   To the thick of the fray
+Ruddy shields who do bear,
+   And with swords clear away;
+None but those who know nought
+   Of terror can stand
+When stout and strong men
+   Shiver buckler with brand."
+
+                               _Valkyrie_.
+
+"Of jesting and game
+   Our discourse shall be brief;
+What does Andadr do,
+   Harald's jester in chief?"
+
+                                 _Raven_.
+
+"Fun Andadr loves;
+   He makes faces and sneers,
+And the monarch doth laugh
+   At the loon without ears.
+There are others who bear
+   Burning brands from the fire
+Stick a torch 'neath their belt,
+   Yet ne'er singe their attire;
+Some that dance on their heels,
+   Or that tumble and spring--
+O 'tis gay in the hall
+   Of high Harald the king!"
+
+
+
+
+ERIK EMUN AND SIR PLOG
+
+
+Early at morn the lark sang gay--
+   (_All underneath so green a hill_)
+Sir Carl by his bed put on his array--
+   (_The Danish King will 'venge his fill_).
+
+He drew on his shirt as white as milk,
+Then his doublet foisted with verdant silk.
+
+His legs in his buckskin boots he placed,
+And around them his gilded spurs he braced.
+
+His gilded spurs there around he braced,
+And away to the Ting he rode in haste.
+
+Sir Carl he galloped along the way,
+Such wondrous things he proved that day.
+
+Sir Carl he galloped up to the Ting,
+The crowd before him scattering.
+
+To warriors nine the Dane-king cries:
+"Bind ye Sir Carl before my eyes."
+
+Up then amain the nine warriors rise,
+They bound Sir Carl 'fore their sovereign's eyes.
+
+And out from the town Sir Carl they convey'd,
+And upon a new wheel his body laid.
+
+To Sir Plog then quickly a messenger came:
+"The Dane-king has broken thy brother's frame."
+
+Sir Plog he sprang o'er the wide, wide board,
+But returned in answer no single word.
+
+In his buckskin boots his shanks he cased
+And around his gilded spurs he braced.
+
+His gilded spurs there around he tied,
+And away to the Ting the noble hied.
+
+And fast and furious was his course,
+So leapt and bounded his gallant horse.
+
+Up, up to the Ting Sir Plog he goes,
+And up to receive him the Dane-king rose.
+
+"If I had been earlier here to-day,
+Then things had turned out in a better way.
+
+"My brother is wheeled though he did no wrong,
+That deed, Dane-king, thou shalt rue ere long.
+
+"If four hours sooner I had but come,
+My brother, for certain, had followed me home.
+
+"Deprived of his life doth my brother lie,
+Dane-king, thou hast lost thine honour thereby."
+
+The Dane-king so fitting an answer returned:
+"Thy brother full richly his death had earned.
+
+"When the great with sword can oppress the mean
+The law is not worth a rotten bean."
+
+"My brother, Sir King, was good and bold,
+I could have redeemed him with silver and gold."
+
+"Thy silver and gold I hold at nought,
+The law shall have the course it ought.
+
+"And since thou so long on this matter doth prate,
+Thou shalt suffer the very same fate."
+
+To warriors nine the Dane-king cries:
+"Bind ye Sir Plog before my eyes."
+
+"If a truly brave man, Dane-king, thou be,
+Do thou thyself bind and fetter me."
+
+The King off his hands the little gloves took,
+Sir Plog his spear with vehemence shook.
+
+He first slew four, then five he slew,
+And the Dane-king himself with his warriors true.
+
+When all the King's men he dead had laid,
+His gallant brother he home convey'd.
+
+To Ribe the royal corse they bear,
+Where it rests 'neath a tomb of marble fair.
+
+But Sir Plog he went to a foreign shore,
+No word they heard of him evermore.
+
+
+
+
+THE ELVES
+
+
+_Take heed_, _good people_, _of yourselves_;
+_And oh_! _beware ye of the elves_.
+
+Once a peasant young and gay
+Was in his meadow cutting hay,
+There came a lovely looking lass
+From out the neighbouring morass.
+The lass he woo'd, her promise won,
+And soon the bridal day came on.
+But when the pair had got to bed,
+The bridegroom found, with fear and dread,
+That he a rough oak stump embrac'd,
+Instead of woman's lovely waist.
+Then, to increase his fear and wonder,
+There sang a voice his window under:
+
+"Come out to her whom thou didst wed,
+Upon my mead the bed is spread."
+From that wild lay the peasant knew
+He with a fay had had to do.
+
+_Take heed_, _good people_, _of yourselves_;
+_And oh_! _beware ye of the elves_.
+
+
+
+
+FERIDUN
+
+
+No face of an Angel could Feridun claim,
+Nor of musk nor of amber I ween was his frame;
+In bright generosity beauteous was he,
+Be generous like him and as fair thou shalt be.
+
+
+
+
+EPIGRAMS
+
+
+1.
+
+
+A worthless thing is song, I trow,
+From out the heart which does not flow;
+But song from out no heart will flow
+Which does not feel of love the glow.
+
+
+
+2.
+
+
+Though pedants have essayed to hammer
+Into our heads the points of grammar;
+We're oft obliged to set at nought
+The different force of _should_ and _ought_;
+And oft are sorely puzzled whether
+We should make use of _both_ or _either_.
+
+
+
+3.
+
+
+When of yourself you have cause to speak
+Always make yourself broad and tall;
+Envy attacks you if you are great,
+But thorough contempt attends the small.
+
+                                * * * * *
+
+                                 LONDON:
+               Printed for THOMAS J. WISE, Hampstead, N.W.
+
+                   _Edition limited to Thirty Copies_.
+
+
+
+
+
+

passages/pg27407.txt

@@ -0,0 +1,447 @@
+
+
+
+Transcribed from the 1913 Thomas J. Wise pamphlet by David Price, email
+ccx074@pglaf.org.  Many thanks to Norfolk and Norwich Millennium Library,
+UK, for kindly supplying the images from which this transcription was
+made.
+
+
+
+
+
+                                   THE
+                            RETURN OF THE DEAD
+                            AND OTHER BALLADS
+
+
+                                    BY
+                              GEORGE BORROW
+
+                                 LONDON:
+                     PRINTED FOR PRIVATE CIRCULATION
+                                   1913
+
+
+
+
+THE RETURN OF THE DEAD
+
+
+Swayne Dyring o'er to the island strayed;
+   _And were I only young again_!
+He wedded there a lovely maid--
+   _To honied words we list so fain_.
+
+Together they lived seven years and more;
+   _And were I only young again_!
+And seven fair babes to him she bore--
+   _To honied words we list so fain_.
+
+Then death arrived in luckless hour;
+   _And were I only young again_!
+Then died the lovely lily flower--
+   _To honied words we list so fain_.
+
+The Swayne he has crossed the salt sea way,
+   _And were I only young again_!
+And he has wedded another may--
+   _To honied words we list so fain_.
+
+And he that may to his home has brought;
+   _And were I only young again_!
+But peevish was she, and with malice fraught--
+   _To honied words we list so fain_.
+
+And when she came to the castle gate,
+   _And were I only young again_!
+The seven children beside it wait--
+   _To honied words we list so fain_.
+
+The children stood in sorrowful mood,
+   _And were I only young again_!
+She spurned them away with her foot so rude--
+   _To honied words we list so fain_.
+
+Nor bread nor meat will she bestow;
+   _And were I only young again_!
+Said "Hate ye shall have and the hunger throe"--
+   _To honied words we list so fain_.
+
+She took away the bolsters blue;
+   _And were I only young again_!
+"Bare straw will serve for the like of you"--
+   _To honied words we list so fain_.
+
+Away she's ta'en the big wax light;
+   _And were I only young again_!
+Said she "Ye shall lie in the murky night"--
+   _To honied words we list so fain_.
+
+The babies at night with hunger weep;
+   _And were I only young again_!
+The woman heard that in the grave so deep--
+   _To honied words we list so fain_.
+
+To God's high throne such haste she made;
+   _And were I only young again_!
+"O I must go to my babies' aid"--
+   _To honied words we list so fain_.
+
+She begged so loud, and she begged so long,
+   _And were I only young again_!
+That at length consent from her God she wrung--
+   _To honied words we list so fain_.
+
+"But thou must return when the cock shall crow,
+   _And were I only young again_!
+"No longer tarry must thou below"--
+   _To honied words we list so fain_.
+
+Then up she struck with her stark thigh bone,
+   _And were I only young again_!
+And burst through wall and marble stone--
+   _To honied words we list so fain_.
+
+And when to the dwelling she drew nigh,
+   _And were I only young again_!
+The hounds they yelled to the clouds so high--
+   _To honied words we list so fain_.
+
+And when to the castle gate she won,
+   _And were I only young again_!
+Her eldest daughter stood there alone--
+   _To honied words we list so fain_.
+
+"Hail daughter mine, what dost thou here?
+   _And were I only young again_!
+How fare thy brothers and sisters dear?"--
+   _To honied words we list so fain_.
+
+"O dame thou art no mother of mine,
+   _And were I only young again_!
+For she was a lady fair and fine--
+   _To honied words we list so fain_.
+
+"A lady fine with cheeks so red,
+   _And were I only young again_!
+But thou art pale as the sheeted dead"--
+   _To honied words we list so fain_.
+
+"O how should I be fine and sleek?
+   _And were I only young again_!
+How else than pale should be my cheek?--
+   _To honied words we list so fain_.
+
+"And how should I be white and red?
+   _And were I only young again_!
+Beneath the mould I've long been dead"--
+   _To honied words we list so fain_.
+
+And when she entered the high, high hall,
+   _And were I only young again_!
+Drowned with tears stood the babies all--
+   _To honied words we list so fain_.
+
+The one she combed, the other she brushed,
+   _And were I only young again_!
+The third she dandled, the fourth she hushed--
+   _To honied words we list so fain_.
+
+The fifth upon her breast she plac'd,
+   _And were I only young again_!
+And allowed the babe of the breast to taste--
+   _To honied words we list so fain_.
+
+To her eldest daughter she turned her eye;
+   _And were I only young again_!
+"Go call Swayne Dyring instantly"--
+   _To honied words we list so fain_.
+
+And when Swayne Dyring before her stood,
+   _And were I only young again_!
+She spake to him thus in wrathful mood--
+   _To honied words we list so fain_.
+
+"I left behind both ale and bread;
+   _And were I only young again_!
+My children with hunger are nearly dead--
+   _To honied words we list so fain_.
+
+"I left behind me bolsters blue;
+   _And were I only young again_!
+Upon bare straw my babes I view--
+   _To honied words we list so fain_.
+
+"I left behind the big wax light;
+   _And were I only young again_!
+My children lie in the murk at night--
+   _To honied words we list so fain_.
+
+"If again I'm forced to seek thee here,
+   _And were I only young again_!
+Befall thee shall a fate so drear--
+   _To honied words we list so fain_.
+
+"But hark! the ruddy cock has crow'd,
+   _And were I only young again_!
+The dead must return to their abode--
+   _To honied words we list so fain_.
+
+"I hear, I hear the black cock crow;
+   _And were I only young again_!
+The gates of heaven are opening now--
+   _To honied words we list so fain_.
+
+The white cock claps his wings so wide,
+   _And were I only young again_!
+No longer here I dare to bide"--
+   _To honied words we list so fain_.
+
+Each time the dogs began to yell,
+   _And were I only young again_!
+They gave the children bread and ale--
+   _To honied words we list so fain_.
+
+As soon as they heard of the hounds the cry,
+   _And were I only young again_!
+They feared the ghost was drawing nigh--
+   _To honied words we list so fain_.
+
+Whene'er the dogs were heard to rave,
+   _And were I only young again_!
+They feared the woman had left her grave--
+   _To honied words we list so fain_.
+
+
+
+
+THE TRANSFORMED DAMSEL
+
+
+I take my axe upon my back,
+   To fell the tree I mean;
+Then came the man the wood who owned,
+   And thrust his heft between.
+
+"If thou hew down my father's grove,
+   And me this damage do,
+If I but see thee fell the tree
+   Thou dearly that shalt rue."
+
+"O let me hew this single tree,
+   Nor to resist me seek;
+Unless I yonder bird obtain
+   With grief my heart will break."
+
+"Now list thou fair and gallant swain,
+   To me incline thine ear!
+Thou ne'er wilt yonder bird obtain
+   Unless some bait thou bear."
+
+From off my breast the bait I cut,
+   And hung it on the bough:
+The breast it bled, the bait it reeked,
+   Mine is the birdie now.
+
+Down flew the lovely little bird,
+   Fluttering its wings o'erjoyed;
+It seemed to smile as if the guile
+   It knew that I employed.
+
+It clawed and picked so hastily,
+   So well did smack the bait;
+And still the more it seemed to please
+   The more the birdie ate.
+
+Down flew the lovely little bird,
+   Alighting on the sand;
+The loveliest damsel she became,
+   And gave the youth her hand.
+
+
+
+
+THE FORCED CONSENT
+
+
+Within her own fair castelaye
+   There goes a damsel bright;
+A whole year's tide for her has sighed
+   A young and handsome knight.
+
+"Now do thou hear, thou beauteous maid,
+   Could I thy troth obtain,
+Then thou shouldst tread on silk outspread,
+   And ne'er on the earth again.
+
+And do thou hear, my lovely maid,
+   My wedded lady be,
+And the slightest care thou shalt not bear
+   If I can save it thee."
+
+"I've vowed an oath to Mary maid,
+   And to keep it is my plan;
+Ne'er live will I beneath the sky
+   With any sinful man.
+
+"Here with my seven brothers bold
+   To-morrow I will come;
+Yourself array in costly way,
+   For you must follow us home."
+
+It was the young and handsome knight,
+   He out of the doorway springs;
+And he in haste the Runes has traced,
+   And them on her lap she flings.
+
+And so he cast the magic Rune
+   The maiden's dress below;
+Then beat her heart, and blood did start
+   From her finger nails I trow.
+
+"If thou with thy seven brothers bold
+   To-morrow here wilt come,
+Myself I'll array in costly way
+   And follow ye to your home."
+
+The very next morn, the very next morn,
+   When rose the sun in gold,
+Full three times ten bold knightly men
+   Were waiting on the wold.
+
+Full three times ten bold knightly men,
+   On a bonny grey steed each one;
+With silk so white was the courser dight
+   Which the maid should ride upon.
+
+But what think ye that maiden did
+   Ere mounting on her horse?
+A draught she drank of poison rank,
+   Thought death her wisest course.
+
+Through the shallow streams they dashed their steeds,
+   Through the deep their steeds they swam;
+And ever and anon the maid would groan,
+   "How dreadfully ill I am."
+
+And when they came to the house of the knight,
+   Where the bridal kept should be;
+Spread out on the earth was silk of worth,
+   And gold so red of blee.
+
+"Now thou may'st see, my lady love,
+   That I my promise hold;
+Now thou dost tread on silk outspread,
+   And not on the earth so cold."
+
+"There's spread enough of the silken stuff,
+   And plenty of gold is strown;
+But better I ween in heaven sheen
+   With our Father God to wone."
+
+Then they led her to the high, high hall,
+   And in scarlet her array'd;
+But their joy was brief, soon came their grief,
+   She died alack a maid!
+
+Thanks be to him the youthful knight,
+   No truer e'er was seen;
+He built her a grave in the church, and gave
+   The churchmen farms fifteen.
+
+Then as he stood by the maiden's grave,
+   The gallant young noble cried:
+"O would to God beneath the sod
+   I were lying by her side!"
+
+
+
+
+INGEBORG'S DISGUISE
+
+
+Such handsome court clothes the proud Ingeborg buys,
+Says she "I'll myself as a courtier disguise."
+
+Proud Ingeborg hastens her steed to bestride,
+Says she "I'll away with the King to reside."
+
+"Thou gallant young King to my speech lend an ear,
+Hast thou any need of my services here?"
+
+"O yes, my sweet lad, of a horseboy I've need,
+If there were but stable room here for his steed.
+
+"But thy steed in the stall with my own can be tied,
+And thou 'neath the linen shalt sleep by my side."
+
+Three years in the palace good service she wrought,
+That she was a woman no one ever thought.
+
+She filled for three years of a horse-boy the place,
+And the steeds of the monarch she drove out to graze.
+
+She led for three years the King's steeds to the brook,
+For else than a youth no one Ingeborg took.
+
+Proud Ingeborg knows how to make the dames gay,
+She also can sing in such ravishing way.
+
+The hair on her head is like yellow spun gold,
+To her beauty the heart of the prince was not cold.
+
+But at length up and down in the palace she strayed,
+Her colour and hair began swiftly to fade.
+
+What eye has seen ever so wondrous a case?
+The boy his own spurs to his heel cannot brace.
+
+The horse-boy is brought to so wondrous a plight,
+To draw his own weapon he has not the might.
+
+The son of the King to five damsels now sends,
+And Ingeborg fair to their care he commends.
+
+Proud Ingeborg took they and wrapped in their weed,
+And to the stone chamber with her they proceed.
+
+Upon the blue cushions they Ingeborg laid,
+Where light of two beautiful sons she is made.
+
+Then in came the prince, smiled the babies to view:
+"'Tis not every horse-boy can bear such a two."
+
+He patted her soft on her cheek sleek and fair:
+"Forget my heart's dearest all sorrow and care."
+
+He placed the gold crown on her temples I ween:
+"With me shalt thou live as my wife and my Queen."
+
+
+
+
+SONG
+
+
+I've pleasure not a little
+   A dancing youth to see,
+Nor less--one single tittle--
+   An old man full of glee.
+
+To dance I ever glory
+   With those of youthful mien;
+It shows, although I'm hoary
+   In hair, my mind is green.
+
+                                * * * * *
+
+                                 LONDON:
+               Printed for THOMAS J. WISE, Hampstead, N.W.
+                   _Edition limited to Thirty copies_.
+
+
+
+
+
+

passages/pg27408.txt

@@ -0,0 +1,545 @@
+
+
+
+Transcribed from the 1913 Thomas J. Wise pamphlet by David Price, email
+ccx074@pglaf.org.  Many thanks to Norfolk and Norwich Millennium Library,
+UK, for kindly supplying the images from which this transcription was
+made.
+
+
+
+
+
+                              MOLLIE CHARANE
+                            AND OTHER BALLADS
+
+
+                                    BY
+                              GEORGE BORROW
+
+                                 LONDON:
+                     PRINTED FOR PRIVATE CIRCULATION
+                                   1913
+
+               _Copyright in the United States of America_
+           _by Houghton_, _Mifflin & Co. for Clement Shorter_.
+
+
+
+
+MOLLIE CHARANE {5}
+
+
+"O, Mollie Charane, where got you your gold?"
+   Lone, lone you have left me here.
+"O not in the curragh, deep under the mould."
+   Lone, lone, and void of cheer.
+
+"O, Mollie Charane, where got you your stock?"
+   Lone, lone you have left me here.
+"O not in the curragh from under a block."
+   Lone, lone, and void of cheer.
+
+"O, Mollie Charane, where got you your goods?"
+   Lone, lone you have left me here.
+"O not in the curragh from under two sods."
+   Lone, lone, and void of cheer.
+
+Two pair of stockings, and one pair of shoes--
+   Lone, lone you have left me here--
+For twenty-six years old Mollie did use.
+   Lone, lone, and void of cheer.
+
+His stockings were white, but his sandals, alack!--
+   Lone, lone you have left me here--
+Were not of one colour, one white, t'other black.
+   Lone, lone, and void of cheer.
+
+One sandal was white and t'other dark brown--
+   Lone, lone you have left me here;--
+But he'd two of one colour for kirk and for town.
+   Lone, lone, and void of cheer.
+
+"O, father, I really can't walk by your side"--
+   Lone, lone you have left me here--
+"If you go to the church in those sandals of hide."
+   Lone, lone, and void of cheer.
+
+"O, daughter, my dear, if my brogues give you pain"--
+   Lone, lone you have left me here--
+"There's that in the coffer will make you look fain."
+   Lone, lone, and void of cheer.
+
+A million of curses on Mollie Charane--
+   Lone, lone you have left me here--
+The first who gave tocher to daughter in Man.
+   Lone, lone, and void of cheer.
+
+
+
+
+THE DANES OF YORE
+
+
+Well we know from saga
+   And from scaldic lore,
+That heroic warriors
+   Were the Danes of yore.
+That the noble schildings,
+   And the men they led,
+Oft for Danish honour
+   Stoutly fought and bled.
+
+What a time for Athelings,
+   What a time for thanes!
+What a time for yeomen,
+   True devoted Danes!
+But I'll say with pleasure
+   That, in ancient days,
+Death did not annihilate
+   All that noble race.
+
+Frederic see, exalted
+   On his father's throne,
+Sits a splendid monarch,
+   Brighter never shone.
+Long to him be granted
+   That of Grendel's kin
+He may check the cruel
+   Cursed deeds of sin.
+
+And that long may flourish
+   Round about the King,
+They who love gold treasures
+   All around to fling.
+Lords, the first of heroes,
+   With their trenchant swords;
+Counsellors held in honour,
+   For their golden words.
+
+To the Lord of angels
+   Praise devout I'll sing,
+That from out the grave-hill
+   'Twas my lot to bring
+Golden dishes, goblets,
+   Things of mighty worth,
+Which for thousand winters
+   Lay entombed in earth.
+
+That men in gold smithery
+   Cunning, might from them
+For the grey haired hero
+   Frame a diadem.
+Under which his grey locks
+   Might all glorious shine,
+Whilst the sun, bright flaming,
+   Seeks the western brine.
+
+Until, tired of glory,
+   Such as meets it here,
+Soars the hero's spirit
+   To a higher sphere;
+Where, with souls united
+   Of departed friends,
+'Twill experience glory
+   Such as never ends.
+
+
+
+
+A SURVEY OF DEATH
+
+
+My blood is freezing, my senses reel,
+So horror stricken at heart I feel;
+Thinking how like a fast stream we range
+Nearer and nearer to that dread change,
+When the body becomes so stark and cold,
+And man doth crumble away to mould.
+
+Boast not, proud maid, for the grave doth gape,
+And strangely altered reflects thy shape;
+No dainty charms it doth disclose,
+Death will ravish thy beauty's rose;
+And all the rest will leave to thee
+When dug thy chilly grave shall be.
+
+O, ye who are tripping the floor so light,
+In delicate robes as the lily white,
+Think of the fading funeral wreath,
+The dying struggle, the sweat of death--
+Think on the dismal death array,
+When the pallid corse is consigned to clay!
+
+O, ye who in quest of riches roam,
+Reflect that ashes ye must become;
+And the wealth ye win will brightly shine
+When buried are ye and all your line;
+For your many chests of much loved gold
+You'll nothing obtain but a little mould!
+
+
+
+
+DESIDERABILIA VITAE {13}
+
+
+Give me the haunch of a buck to eat,
+   And to drink Madeira old;
+And a gentle wife to rest with,
+   And in my arms to fold.
+
+An Arabic book to study,
+   A gipsy pony to ride;
+And a house to live in shaded by trees,
+   Near to a river's side.
+
+With such good things around me,
+   And with good health withal,
+Though I should live for a hundred years
+   For death I would not call.
+
+
+
+
+SAINT JACOB
+
+
+Saint Jacob he takes our blest Lord by the hand:
+"I gladly would Christianize Garsia land."
+
+"O how wilt thou bring it within Christian pale?
+No ship hast thou here o'er the salt sea to sail."
+
+"Thy power, O Lord, is so wondrously great,
+Full quickly a ship Thou for me canst create."
+
+"Saint Jacob, hie down to the salt ocean strand,
+There standeth so little a stone by the land."
+
+Saint Jacob he taketh a book in his hand,
+And down he proceeds to the salt ocean strand.
+
+Saint Jacob he made o'er the stone the cross-mark,
+From the land straight it floated, as though 'twere a bark.
+
+It rode o'er the billows so rapid and free,
+Right, right towards Garsia promontoree.
+
+So rapid the stone to glide thither began,
+A hundred miles space in one short hour it ran.
+
+In comes a foot-boy, to the King doffs his bonnet:
+"Here cometh a stone, and a man sits upon it."
+
+A woman rushed in, in her eyes wonder shone:
+"Here cometh a man, and he sits on a stone."
+
+King Garsia taketh his axe in his hand,
+And down he proceeds to the salt ocean strand.
+
+"Now hear thou, Saint Jacob, I say unto thee,
+What hast thou in this land, in this land here with me?"
+
+"Unto thee I am come to this land 'cross the brine,
+Because that my Maker is greater than thine."
+
+"O how can thy Maker be greater than mine?
+Mine drinks every day the brown mead and the wine."
+
+"O then my Creator is greater than thine,
+For mine can the water convert into wine.
+
+"My Maker can turn the black mould into bread,
+Can give life back to them who long, long have been dead."
+
+"If thou canst restore me my dearly loved son,
+I'll trust in thy Maker, and no other one.
+
+"If I again view him, with flesh and hair dight,
+As he fifteen years since disappeared from my sight;
+
+"If I get him again both with hawk and with hound,
+Just, just as he sank in the depths of the sound;
+
+"With hair on his head, and with flesh on his bone,
+As though he the pang of death never had known."
+
+Then the blessed Saint Jacob upon his book pored:
+"'Twill be no easy matter to get him restored."
+
+When he had stood reading a wee little time,
+He raised up the man from hell's sorrowful clime.
+
+"Now again thou hast got him with flesh and hair dight,
+As he fifteen years since disappeared from thy sight.
+
+"Thou hast got him again, both with hawk and with hound,
+Just, just as he sank in the ocean profound.
+
+"With hair on his head, and with flesh on his bone,
+As though he the pang of death never had known."
+
+"Now hear thou, my dear son, so fine and so fair,
+What news from thy journey afar dost thou bear?"
+
+"The news which I bring from the far distant place,
+Is that one little knows of the other's hard case.
+
+"There the woman, who's hated the child of her womb,
+Out of the snake-tower can ne'er hope to come.
+
+"There the cruel step-mother, her child who has slain,
+Goes begirt with a sword fraught with festering bane.
+
+"The merchants who here in heaps money up-rake,
+There hiss in the likeness of serpent and snake.
+
+"The Sysselmen, wretches with hearts hard as stone,
+There in the snake-tower despairingly moan."
+
+
+
+
+THE RENEGADE
+
+
+Now pay ye the heed that is fitting,
+   Whilst I sing ye the Iran adventure;
+The pasha on sofa was sitting,
+   Midst his harem's glorious centre.
+
+Greek sang, and Tcherkass, for his pleasure,
+   And Kergoosian captive is dancing;
+In the eyes of the first heaven's azure,
+   In the others black Eblis is glancing.
+
+But the pasha's attention is failing,
+   O'er his visage his fair turban stealeth;
+From chebouk he sleep is inhaling,
+   Whilst around him sweet vapours he dealeth.
+
+What rumour without is there breeding?
+   Ye fair ranks asunder why wend ye?
+Kyslar Aga, a strange captive leading,
+   Cometh forward, and crieth "Efendy."
+
+"Whose face has the power when present
+   'Mong the stars round the divan which muster?
+Who amidst the gems of night's crescent
+   Has the blaze of Aldeboran's lustre?
+
+"Glance nearer, bright star! I have tiding,
+   Glad tiding.  Behold how in duty
+From far Lehistan the wind, gliding,
+   Has brought this fresh tribute of beauty.
+
+"In the padishaw's garden there bloometh
+   In proud Istambul no such blossom;
+From the wintry regions she cometh,
+   Whose memory so lives in thy bosom."
+
+Then the gauzes removes he which shade her,
+   At her beauty all wonder intensely;
+One moment the pasha surveyed her,
+   Then, dropping his chebouk, without sense lay.
+
+His turban has fallen from his forehead,
+   To assist him the bystanders started.
+His mouth foams, his face blackens horrid,--
+   See, the Renegade's soul has departed!
+
+
+
+
+AN IMPROMPTU
+
+
+And darest thou thyself compare
+   With one who quaffs at Helicon;
+Whose playfellows the Muses are,
+   And whom Apollo calleth son?
+Who, had he lived in olden day,
+   With some fierce host had strode along;
+Like Taillefer to Hasting's fray,
+   Cheering the Normans with his song.
+
+The laurel wreath Apollo gave
+   I would not change for kingly crown;
+A King is but an exalted slave,
+   Rebellion soon may hurl him down.
+But who can force me from the height
+   Whereto I've soared on Eagle's wing?
+I leave to Monarchs ceaseless fright
+   For what the coming day may bring.
+
+Though poor I be, I've Minstrelsy,
+   When fortune frowns I'll strike my lyre;
+Against the world's inclemency
+   'Twill warm my soul with heavenly fire.
+Then wonder not if proud the air
+   Of one who's high Apollo's son;
+Nor henceforth dare thyself compare
+   With one who quaffs at Helicon.
+
+
+
+
+A HYMN
+
+
+O Jesus, Thou Fountain of solace and gladness
+   Of Heaven's high Three second person divine;
+Forgive, O forgive me my blindness and madness,
+   And guide to Thy kingdom this spirit of mine.
+
+   Dearly, O Jesus,
+      Thou boughtest me,
+   Yon Friday dark
+      Upon the tree.
+
+   Thy foes were numerous,
+      Fierce and fell;
+   Few and weak those
+      Who wished Thee well.
+
+   Nigh stood Thy mother,
+      Full of fears,
+   Wringing her hands
+      And bathed in tears.
+
+   Often, O Jesus,
+      Wilfully
+   With my great sins
+      I've tortured Thee.
+
+   Causing Thy wounds
+      To open again,
+   Waking anew
+      The ancient pain.
+
+   All the kindness
+      Thou hast display'd,
+   With black ingratitude
+      I've repaid.
+
+But Jesus, Creator of earth and of ocean,
+   Who me, a vile sinner, so dearly didst buy;
+My damnable ignorance turn to devotion,
+   And guide my poor soul to Thy courts in the sky.
+
+
+
+
+THE TRANSFORMED DAMSEL. {25}
+
+
+My father up of the country rode,
+   A maiden he would wed;
+And a foul witch he married then,
+   If the whole truth be said.
+
+The first night they together slept,
+   She was a mother kind to me;
+But when the second night arrived,
+   A cruel stepmother was she.
+
+I was seated at my father's board
+   With dogs and whelps amused;
+Towards me striding my stepmother came,
+   And cruelly me she used.
+
+She changed me to a little hind,
+   Bade me into the forest wend;
+My seven maids then she changed to wolves,
+   And ordered them my flesh to rend.
+
+But my seven maids would rend me not,
+   So dearly me they loved;
+Then vexed sore my step-dame was,
+   That no worse my fortune proved.
+
+Sir Orm he serves in the King's palace,
+   A Knight is he so fair;
+He sighs for the maiden day and night,
+   But in secret he keeps his care.
+
+Sir Orm he rode from the King's palace,
+   He could enjoy no peace;
+He rode into the good green wood,
+   The hart and hind to chase.
+
+Sir Orm set his bow his knee before,
+   He rode to the hind so near;
+But the hind would not from the sleuth-hounds flee,
+   For the Knight to her was dear.
+
+But the hounds advanced to the hind so near,
+   That the hind was forced to fly;
+She changed herself to a little bird,
+   And flew high up in the sky.
+
+Anon down flew the little bird,
+   Perched a linden bough upon;
+Sir Orm he stood there down below,
+   And sorely did he moan.
+
+Down flew the lovely little bird,
+   And 'gan on the bait to feast,
+Which out of his bosom Sir Orm had cut,
+   So well it pleased her taste.
+
+And then the lovely little bird
+   Dropped down on the yellow sand,
+And she became the fairest damsel,
+   Was ever seen in the land.
+
+The Damsel stood under the linden bough,
+   Freed was she now from thrall;
+Sir Orm he stood so near thereby,
+   They related their sorrows all.
+
+"Many thanks to thee, Sir Orm the bold
+   Thou'st freed me from my woe;
+Except beside my snow-white side
+   Thou sleep shalt nevermoe."
+
+Thanks be to him, Sir Orm the bold
+   He kept his faith so well;
+The Monday morn thereafter
+   His bridal it befell.
+
+                                * * * * *
+
+                                 LONDON:
+                Printed for THOMAS J. WISE, Hampstead, N.W
+                    _Edition limited to Thirty Copies_
+
+
+
+
+Footnotes:
+
+
+{5}  This ballad is founded on a real character--a miser--who by various
+means acquired a considerable property, and was the first person who ever
+left "tocher," that is fortune, to daughter in Man.  His name was Mollie
+Charane, which words interpreted are "Praise the Lord."  He lived and
+possessed an estate on the curragh, a tract of boggy ground, formerly a
+forest, on the northern side of the island, between the mighty mountains
+of the Snefell range and the sea.
+
+{13}  Previously printed, with a slightly different text, and arranged in
+six lines instead of in three four-line stanzas, in _Lavengro_, 1851,
+Vol. i, p. 306.
+
+{25}  This Ballad should be compared with _The Cruel Step-dame_, printed
+in _The Serpent Knight and Other Ballads_, 1913, pp. 30-33.  Also with
+_The Transformed Damsel_, printed in _The Return of the Dead and Other
+Ballads_, 1913, pp. 13-14.
+
+
+
+
+
+

passages/pg27409.txt

@@ -0,0 +1,477 @@
+
+
+
+Transcribed from the 1913 Thomas J. Wise pamphlet by David Price, email
+ccx074@pglaf.org.  Many thanks to Norfolk and Norwich Millennium Library,
+UK, for kindly supplying the images from which this transcription was
+made.
+
+
+
+
+
+                             THE KING'S WAKE
+                            AND OTHER BALLADS
+
+
+                                    BY
+                              GEORGE BORROW
+
+                                 LONDON:
+                     PRINTED FOR PRIVATE CIRCULATION
+                                   1913
+
+
+
+
+THE KING'S WAKE
+
+
+To-night is the night that the wake they hold,
+To the wake repair both young and old.
+
+Proud Signelil she her mother address'd:
+"May I go watch along with the rest?"
+
+"O what at the wake wouldst do my dear?
+Thou'st neither sister nor brother there.
+
+"Nor brother-in-law to protect thy youth,
+To the wake thou must not go forsooth.
+
+"There be the King and his warriors gay,
+If me thou list thou at home wilt stay."
+
+"But the Queen will be there and her maiden crew,
+Pray let me go, mother, the dance to view."
+
+So long, so long begged the maiden young,
+That at length from her mother consent she wrung.
+
+"Then go, my child, if thou needs must go,
+But thy mother ne'er went to the wake I trow."
+
+Then through the thick forest the maiden went,
+To reach the wake her mind was bent.
+
+When o'er the green meadows she had won,
+The Queen and her maidens to bed were gone.
+
+And when she came to the castle gate
+They were plying the dance at a furious rate.
+
+There danced full many a mail-clad man,
+And the youthful King he led the van.
+
+He stretched forth his hand with an air so free,
+"Wilt dance, thou pretty maid, with me?"
+
+"O, sir, I've come across the wold
+That I with the Queen discourse might hold."
+
+"Come dance," said the King with a courteous smile,
+"The Queen will be here in a little while."
+
+Then forward she stepped like a blushing rose,
+She takes his hand and to dance she goes.
+
+"Hear Signelil what I say to thee,
+A ditty of love sing thou to me."
+
+"A ditty of love I will not, Sir King,
+But as well as I can another I'll sing."
+
+Proud Signil began, a ditty she sang,
+To the ears of the Queen in her bed it rang.
+
+Says the Queen in her chamber as she lay:
+"O which of my maidens doth sing so gay?
+
+"O which of my maidens doth sing so late,
+To bed why followed they me not straight?"
+
+Then answered the Queen the little foot page,
+"'Tis none of thy maidens I'll engage.
+
+"'Tis none I'll engage of the maiden band,
+'Tis Signil proud from the islet's strand."
+
+"O bring my red mantle hither to me,
+For I'll go down this maid to see."
+
+And when they came down to the castle gate
+The dance it moved at so brave a rate.
+
+About and around they danced with glee,
+There stood the Queen and the whole did see.
+
+The Queen she felt so sore aggrieved
+When the King with Signil she perceived.
+
+Sophia the Queen to her maid did sign:
+"Go fetch me hither a horn of wine."
+
+His hand the King stretched forth so free:
+"Wilt thou Sophia my partner be?"
+
+"O I'll not dance with thee, I vow,
+Unless proud Signil pledge me now."
+
+The horn she raised to her lips, athirst,
+The innocent heart in her bosom burst.
+
+There stood King Valdemar pale as clay,
+Stone dead at his feet the maiden lay.
+
+"A fairer maid since I first drew breath
+Ne'er came more guiltless to her death."
+
+For her wept woman and maid so sore,
+To the Church her beauteous corse they bore.
+
+But better with her it would have sped,
+Had she but heard what her mother said.
+
+
+
+
+SWAYNE FELDING
+
+
+Swayne Felding sits at Helsingborg,
+   He tells his deeds with pride;
+Full blythe at heart I ween he was,
+   His faulchion at his side.
+
+He vows that he on pilgrimage
+   To regal Rome will go;
+And many a Danish warrior bold
+   Doth make the self same vow.
+
+So out they rode from Danish land,
+   And only two were they;
+They stopped to rest them in a town,
+   Its name was Hovdingsey.
+
+They stopped to rest in a lofty town,
+   Its name was Hovdingsey;
+They guested with a Damsel proud,
+   A wondrous lovely may.
+
+She placed Swayne highest at the board
+   Amidst a knightly band;
+And then wherefrom they two were come
+   The Damsel did demand.
+
+"Thou art no needy pilgrim, Sir,
+   Who honorest us this eve;
+And that can I by thy small shirt
+   Hooked with red gold perceive.
+
+"O I can plain by thy small shirt
+   With red gold hooked discern,
+Thou art the King of Denmark come
+   To do us a noble turn."
+
+"I am not Denmark's King, fair maid,
+   Nor any thing so high;
+I'm but a needy pilgrim, born
+   Within the Dane country.
+
+"Now list to me thou Damsel fair,
+   List kindly I beseech,
+There's many a child in Denmark born,
+   And with his own luck each."
+
+And there sat she the damsel fair,
+   And the silken seam she sewed;
+For every stitch she sew'd a tear
+   From her eyes of beauty flowed.
+
+"Now do thou hear, my damsel dear,
+   Why dost so sorely grieve?
+If thou declare thy bosom's care
+   Perchance I can relieve."
+
+"Within our land a Giant lives
+   Who waste our land will lay;
+Upon no other food than maids
+   And ladies will he prey.
+
+"Within our country lives a trold
+   From us our land will tear,
+Unless we can procure a man
+   To fight with him will dare.
+
+"But I have heard in all my days
+   That Danemen know no fear;
+No doubt it is to help us now
+   That God has sent one here."
+
+"And had I horse and harness now
+   Well suited to my back,
+Then would I break with him a spear,
+   Proud damsel, for thy sake."
+
+They led three hundred horses forth,
+   Milk white was every one;
+But the first sank down like a messan dog
+   That Swayne laid the saddle on.
+
+They led the Spanish horses forth,
+   Their eyes were very bright;
+Swayne drew the bridle o'er their heads,
+   And straightway they took fright.
+
+It was the brave Swayne Felding then
+   Was sorely sad in mood:
+"O had I but a Danish horse
+   Who had eat of Denmark's food.
+
+"Full fifteen golden rings so good
+   From Denmark I did bring,
+But for a horse of Jutland breed
+   They every one should spring."
+
+Then up came striding a millerman
+   So gaily o'er the wold:
+"O I have got a Danish horse,
+   In Denmark he was foal'd.
+
+"A mottled Danish horse I've got,
+   In Sadbylund was born;
+He bears each time that he goes to mill
+   Full sixty bolls of corn."
+
+"Now hear thou honest millerman,
+   Let me this same horse see,
+For if we both be Daners born
+   We'll beat Italians three."
+
+Then forth was led the miller's horse,
+   He look'd a very Dane;
+High hip, broad chest, the saddle gilt
+   Upon his back laid Swayne.
+
+Away he cast his gloves so small,
+   His hands were white to see;
+And he himself girded the noble horse,
+   The groom ne'er trusted he.
+
+He girded the horse with a saddle girth,
+   He girded him with three;
+The horse he gave a single shake
+   And all broke instantly.
+
+He girded the steed where he was most thick
+   With such tremendous force,
+That the girth did fly into pieces ten,
+   And fell on his knee the horse.
+
+"With fifteen golden rings so good
+   From Denmark out I sped,
+But I with every one would part
+   Got I a good girth instead.
+
+"Send ye a message o'er the mead
+   Unto the beauteous lady,
+And beg her for her champion's steed
+   To get a new girth ready."
+
+Full fifteen were the Damsels proud
+   Who wove the ruddy gold,
+And formed with care a saddle girth
+   Swayne Felding's horse to hold.
+
+The maids of Hammer, the maids of Pommer,
+   And many more maids with heed,
+Wove silk and gold to form a girth
+   For the mottled Danish steed.
+
+The saddle girth was ready and made
+   By the early morning tide;
+'Twas seven ells long, and a quarter thick,
+   And more than five span wide.
+
+But when the horse he girded was
+   So fierce he ramped and reared,
+That there was none of Austria's men
+   But to look upon him feared.
+
+"Now do thou hear thou gallant horse,
+   I think thou'st human wit,
+Before I mount thy back upon
+   I thee will ease a bit.
+
+"Now do thy best, my gallant horse,
+   Who like a buck dost play;
+Here may ye see, ye German knights,
+   Of Danish men the way.
+
+"Now take away the crowned sword,
+   To bear it would break my vow;
+And fetch ye hither a vessel's mast,
+   I'll wield it well I trow."
+
+The first course they together rode
+   The Trold show'd mighty force,
+Their splintered spears a furlong flew,
+   And down fell either horse.
+
+"I would but prove my horse's strength,
+   I call not this a fight;
+But meet me here tomorrow's morn
+   And harder thee I'll smite."
+
+Swayne Felding took the sacrament,
+   And round the churchyard paced;
+Within his acton next his breast
+   The holy host he placed.
+
+"And do thou hear, my Damsel fair,
+   Be never down at heart;
+Either shall he the saddle quit
+   Or his tough neck shall start."
+
+Out of the city followed him
+   Alike both man and dame:
+"O may God grant," the people said,
+   "The Knight his foe may tame!"
+
+"Now hand me not the puny lance
+   Which ye are wont to bear;
+But do ye bring, for me to wield,
+   My native country's spear."
+
+And now the second course they ride
+   Their cheeks with fury red;
+The Devil's neck asunder went,
+   Flew o'er the mead his head.
+
+His head flew into pieces nine,
+   His back asunder burst;
+Swayne hied him to the Damsel's house,
+   There first he quenched his thirst.
+
+Nine stately warriors out there came,
+   Took Swayne from off his steed:
+"Broad lands on thee we will bestow
+   If thou wilt wed the maid."
+
+"O I'm betrothed to one as fair
+   In Ostland realms already;
+For seven tons of ruddy gold
+   I would not prove unsteady.
+
+"But build before your Hovdingsey
+   A house upon the mead,
+And there to Danish pilgrims give
+   Good wine and best of bread."
+
+So Danish pilgrims there they give
+   Good wine and best of bread;
+They pray for brave Swayne Felding's soul,
+   He now has long been dead.
+
+
+
+
+INNOCENCE DEFAMED
+
+
+Misfortune comes to every door,
+   And who can hope to 'scape its might?
+And that can little Kirstine say,
+   And none alas with greater right.
+
+It was the good Sir Peter, he
+   At fall of eve came home from Ting;
+And it was little Kirstine fair,
+   That fell the knight to welcoming.
+
+"Now welcome, welcome home from Ting,
+   Most welcome thou my father dear;
+Whilst thou at Ting this day didst stand
+   Didst any news or tiding hear?"
+
+"Enough of tidings I have heard,
+   To break my heart however sound;
+Thy plighted youth has thee forsworn
+   Because thy name was bandied round.
+
+"Thy plighted youth has thee forsworn,
+   And none can blame the youth I ween;
+For eight long years it seems thou hast
+   A murdress and a harlot been."
+
+"Now do thou hear, my father dear,
+   Such wicked rumours thou shouldst scorn;
+For thus is many a virtuous maid
+   Of fame and honor daily shorn."
+
+"And do thou hear, my daughter dear,
+   Thou shalt confess it to thy sorrow;
+This evening thou shalt gather wood,
+   And burn upon that wood tomorrow."
+
+And so they took the fair Kirstine,
+   And her arrayed in scarlet weed;
+And mournfully they lifted her
+   Upon the grey and lofty steed.
+
+It was little Kirstine fair,
+   She reached at last the verdant wold;
+"Now bless'd be God on high that dwells,
+   My bride-bed yonder I behold.
+
+"So red, red are my bridal sheets,
+   My bridal bolsters are so blue,
+The knights who thus their daughters wed
+   I hope and trust are very few."
+
+And so they took the little Kirstine,
+   And bade her sit a stump upon:
+Then forward stepped her plighted youth,
+   And her yellow hair he has undone.
+
+"Now do thou hear, my plighted maid,
+   I rede thee be of blythesome cheer,
+For thou, I ween, dost here perceive
+   Thy bride-bed and thy funeral bier."
+
+When she had sat a little space
+   No longer there she cared to wait;
+Now stand thou up, Sir Archbishop,
+   And Kirstine's bride-bed consecrate.
+
+The little Kirstine then they took
+   And midst the roaring blazes threw;
+The fire recoiled on every side,
+   So fair and bright she stood to view.
+
+"I thank the God who me has helped,
+   The God who made the earth and sky;
+Now to a cloister I will go,
+   And serve my master till I die."
+
+And thither little Kirstine went,
+   And with her all her maidens fair;
+Her father and her plighted youth,
+   They quickly died of grief and care.
+
+And now within the cloister wall
+   The beauteous little Kirstine goes;
+So joyous o'er her yellow hair
+   The veil so long and black she throws.
+
+                                * * * * *
+
+                                 LONDON:
+               Printed for THOMAS J. WISE, Hampstead, N.W.
+                   _Edition limited to Thirty Copies_.
+
+
+
+
+
+

passages/pg27832.txt

@@ -0,0 +1,609 @@
+
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Gerard Arthus, Meredith Bach, and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+[Illustration: THE ROYALTY
+OF RADIO AND TELEVISION
+
+A New World of Entertainment
+
+TELEVISION RECEIVER
+
+ZENITH(R)
+
+OPERATING MANUAL
+
+WARRANTY REGISTRATION CARD
+
+CAUTION: DEALER DO NOT REMOVE
+
+This Booklet Contains Customer's Registration Card and Serial Number]
+
+
+
+
+Warranty
+
+
+Zenith Radio Corporation warrants the parts, transistors, and tubes
+(including television picture tubes) in any Zenith black and white
+television receiver or Zenith black and white television combination
+receiver to be free from defects in material arising from normal usage.
+Its obligation under this warranty is limited to replacing, or at its
+option repairing any such parts or transistors or tubes of the receiver
+which, after regular installation and under normal usage and service,
+shall be returned within ninety (90) days (one year in case of
+television picture tubes only) from the date of original consumer
+purchase of the receiver to the authorized dealer from whom the purchase
+was made and which shall be found to have been thus defective in
+accordance with the policies established by Zenith Radio Corporation.
+
+The obligation of Zenith Radio Corporation does not include either the
+making or the furnishing of any labor in connection with the
+installation of such repaired or replacement parts, transistors or tubes
+nor does it include responsibility for any transportation expense.
+
+Zenith Radio Corporation assumes no liability for failure to perform or
+delay in performing its obligations with respect to the above warranty
+if such failure or delay results, directly or indirectly, from any cause
+beyond its control including but not limited to acts of God, acts of
+government, floods, fires, shortage of materials, and labor and/or
+transportation difficulties.
+
+
+CONDITIONS AND EXCLUSIONS
+
+This warranty is expressly in lieu of all other agreements and
+warranties, expressed or implied, and Zenith Radio Corporation does not
+authorize any person to assume for it the obligations contained in this
+warranty and neither assumes nor authorizes any representative or other
+person to assume for it any other liability in connection with such
+Zenith television receiver or parts or tubes or transistors thereof.
+
+The warranty herein extends only to the original consumer purchaser and
+is not assignable or transferable and shall not apply to any receiver or
+parts or transistors or tubes thereof which have been repaired or
+replaced by anyone else other than an authorized Zenith dealer, service
+contractor or distributor, or which have been subject to alteration,
+misuse, negligence or accident, or to the parts or tubes or transistors
+of any receiver which have had the serial number or name altered,
+defaced or removed.
+
+=Zenith Radio Corporation is under no obligation to extend this warranty
+to any receiver for which a Zenith warranty registration card has not
+been completed and mailed to the Corporation within fifteen (15) days
+after date of delivery.=
+
+ ZENITH RADIO CORPORATION                        CHICAGO, ILLINOIS 60639
+
+
+
+
+=NOTE:= UHF information in this book applies to models equipped for
+VHF-UHF reception.
+
+
+General Notes
+
+    1. Place receiver where no bright light will fall on the screen or
+    in the eyes of the viewers.
+
+    2. Viewers should not be seated closer than a distance of 5 ft.
+    from the screen for maximum comfort.
+
+    3. Place where unimpeded cabinet ventilation is allowed. If
+    receiver is to be placed along a wall allow several inches between
+    wall and cabinet back. This is important for proper ventilation.
+
+
+WARNING, HIGH VOLTAGE
+
+It is recommended that only your authorized Zenith television technician
+make repairs or adjustments inside the receiver. A severe shock can
+result from tampering.
+
+
+POWER SUPPLY
+
+Do not attempt to operate on DC or line supplies of other voltages or
+frequency ratings than those stated on the cabinet back.
+
+
+CABINET STAINS
+
+To preserve the finish on your Zenith Television cabinet, instruments or
+ornaments with rubber feet should not be placed on it. The chemicals in
+the rubber feet have a tendency to leave a stain.
+
+
+PICTURE GLASS
+
+Your Zenith is equipped with the new sealed picture glass and tube.
+Simply clean it from the front of the set when necessary.
+
+Use lukewarm water and a mild soap solution. Carefully wipe dry with a
+clean, damp chamois cloth.
+
+
+
+
+Controls
+
+
+PULL-PUSH ON-OFF SWITCH--VOLUME CONTROL
+
+To turn receiver ON, pull knob outward. To turn receiver OFF, push knob
+inward. Clockwise rotation of the knob increases the volume,
+counterclockwise rotation diminishes the volume.
+
+Allow the receiver to warm up for about 1 minute before you wish to use
+it.
+
+=CHANNEL SELECTOR (VHF)=
+
+Turn knob to channel desired.
+
+=PERMA-SET TUNING CONTROL (VHF) NOTE:= Your Zenith has the new Perma-set
+tuning control.
+
+Each channel has been correctly set at the factory for best picture and
+sound.
+
+
+[Illustration: FIG. 1--CONTROLS
+
+Note: Open panel door at front of
+cabinet for access to controls
+
+TONE
+CONTROL
+
+HORIZONTAL
+HOLD
+
+VERTICAL
+HOLD
+
+(SOME MODELS)
+PEAK
+PICTURE
+
+BRIGHTNESS
+
+CONTRAST]
+
+
+[Illustration: VHF CHANNEL
+SELECTOR
+
+VHF PERMA-SET
+TUNING KNOB
+
+VHF CHANNEL
+INDICATOR
+
+CHANNEL NUMBERS ILLUMINATED
+(SOME MODELS)]
+
+
+[Illustration: UHF CHANNEL
+INDICATOR
+
+UHF FINE
+TUNING KNOB
+
+UHF CHANNEL
+TUNING CONTROL
+
+PULL-PUSH
+ON-OFF SWITCH and
+VOLUME CONTROL
+
+=NOTE:= Knob Style Varies With Models]
+
+
+However, should the settings become mis-adjusted, it is a simple matter
+to adjust them as follows:
+
+    1. Turn the VHF channel selector knob to the channel number
+    desired.
+
+    2. Turn VHF perma-set tuning knob until there is no picture.
+
+    3. Then turn perma-set tuning knob back slowly for best picture and
+    sound.
+
+    4. Repeat for each channel to be set.
+
+
+TONE CONTROL
+
+Your Zenith is equipped with a tone control which enables you to
+personally select tonal values of unmatched richness and fidelity. The
+high tonal register and the "bass" or low frequencies are emphasized by
+turning the tone control knob. Set knob to the position most pleasing to
+your ear.
+
+
+UHF TUNING
+
+First, turn VHF CHANNEL SELECTOR to "UHF" Position. Turn UHF Channel
+Tuning Control for desired UHF Channel. Then carefully turn UHF Fine
+Tuning knob for best picture and sound.
+
+Disregard channel numbers 12 and 13 if they appear in the UHF indicator
+dial of your unit. These are VHF channels to be tuned in with the VHF
+selector.
+
+
+PEAK PICTURE (SOME MODELS)
+
+Set this control for best picture crispness in your location. The
+strength of the signal being received and your personal preference for
+picture detail will determine the optimum setting.
+
+
+SERVICE
+
+Your new Zenith television receiver is engineered for dependable long
+life service but like any mechanical or electrical instrument, it will
+occasionally require maintenance. For service consult your Zenith dealer
+or refer to the organization that installed your instrument. (See
+warranty.)
+
+
+
+
+Picture Adjustments
+
+
+BRIGHTNESS
+
+Rotate clockwise to increase the brightness; counterclockwise reduces
+the brightness. It is to be used in conjunction with the contrast
+control since its movement will also have an effect on picture contrast.
+
+[Illustration: FIG. 2]
+
+=NOTE:= The brightness control setting for the picture shown in Figure 2
+is set too high. Set the control below this level.
+
+
+CONTRAST
+
+Adjust the picture for best distinction between the black and white
+shading. Your own vision is the best judge in setting this control
+properly.
+
+[Illustration: FIG. 3]
+
+=NOTE:= The contrast control setting for the picture shown in Figure 3 is
+set too high. Set the control below this level.
+
+
+HORIZONTAL HOLD CONTROL
+
+If the picture appears to have a tendency to move across the screen, or
+if it assumes a broken streaked appearance, as indicated in Figure 4, it
+should be readjusted to a point where the pictures remain locked in
+properly on all channels.
+
+[Illustration: FIG. 4]
+
+
+VERTICAL HOLD CONTROL
+
+This control is used in correcting for vertical movement, or rolling up
+or down. Set control to lock picture. (Fig. 5)
+
+[Illustration: FIG. 5]
+
+
+
+
+Interference
+
+
+The most effective means of reducing interference to a minimum has been
+built into your Zenith Television receiver. Occasionally however, the
+picture may be affected by electrical interference or reflections.
+
+
+AUTO IGNITION AND APPLIANCES
+
+Automobile ignition, electrical appliances, etc., cause a speckled
+streaked appearing picture as shown. This condition is most noticeable
+in weak signal areas. (Fig. 6.)
+
+[Illustration: FIG. 6]
+
+
+DIATHERMY
+
+Diathermy produces a distinctive herringbone pattern and one or two
+horizontal bands across the face of the picture. (Fig. 7). It can
+sometimes be reduced or eliminated by the insertion of a filter trap at
+the antenna terminals.
+
+[Illustration: FIG. 7]
+
+
+R.F. INTERFERENCE
+
+Radio signals by a neighboring commercial, amateur or police station may
+cause interference in the form of moving ripples or diagonal streaks.
+Television or FM receivers operating near your receiver, can also be the
+reason for this reaction. (Fig. 8.)
+
+[Illustration: FIG. 8]
+
+The insertion of a filter trap at the antenna terminals of the TV
+receiver will sometimes eliminate or reduce this type of interference.
+
+
+
+
+Antenna Connections
+
+
+[Illustration: FIG. 9--ANTENNA CONNECTIONS AT CABINET BACK
+
+FIGURE 9. NOTES:
+
+1. FOR POSSIBLE BETTER PERFORMANCE
+CONNECT ADDITIONAL WIRE TO REMAINING
+ANTENNA TERMINAL
+
+2. TACK OR TWIST END OF WIRE TO CONVENIENT
+POINT UP AND AWAY FROM
+TV CHASSIS (VARY POSITION FOR BEST
+RECEPTION.)
+
+ADDITIONAL 10 FT LENGTH WIRE
+APPROX.
+
+TV RECEIVER]
+
+
+An outdoor type antenna is recommended for best reception. If such
+installation is impossible, different type indoor antenna may be used.
+Quality of reception also depends upon local signal conditions.
+
+Some models are equipped with a di-pole or mono-pole antenna mounted at
+the cabinet back. To use this antenna, raise and extend rods. Vary the
+length and position of the rods or rod for best picture and sound.
+
+Under favorable receiving conditions, satisfactory reception may be
+obtained with a 10 ft. length of antenna wire. (Supplied with some
+models). Stretch out wire for best reception.
+
+When using a regular outside antenna, disconnect the inside antenna
+leads from the antenna terminal screws. Connect the antenna transmission
+line to both of these terminal screws.
+
+
+THE PROOF OF ZENITH ANTENNA SUPERIORITY IS IN THE PICTURE.
+
+Zenith TV antennas are designed and constructed to provide you maximum
+service and superior performance. Contact your Zenith dealer for the one
+that will provide you with the best picture quality.
+
+
+DIPLEXER
+
+(SEE PAGE 8)
+
+When using a combination VHF-UHF antenna system with a single
+transmission line it is necessary to have an additional diplexer at the
+receiver.
+
+Make the transmission line lengths from the diplexer to the VHF and UHF
+antenna post terminals on the receiver as short as possible. See your
+Zenith dealer for additional information.
+
+
+OSCILLATOR ADJUSTMENTS (VHF)
+
+=NOTE:= _The VHF perma-set tuning control on the tuner is also the VHF
+channel oscillator adjustment._ No additional oscillator adjustments are
+incorporated. Therefore, should re-tuning of a VHF TV channel be
+required, select the channel and then manually turn the tuning knob for
+best picture and sound. Each individual VHF channel is tuned in this
+manner.
+
+
+
+
+Phonevision
+
+
+A three-year commercial trial of Zenith's Phonevision[A] systems of
+over-the-air subscription television has been in progress for the
+Hartford, Connecticut area since June 29, 1962.
+
+Authorized by the Federal Communications Commission, the trial has made
+it possible, for the first time, for about 5000 American TV homes to
+enjoy the convenience and economy of viewing top flight box-office
+entertainment and other features broadcast to their home receivers.
+Features at prices for the entire family no greater than a single
+admission at the theatre, stadium or concert hall. The Hartford test has
+already furnished factual information, rather than speculation,
+concerning this brand new television service. On the basis of this
+factual information, the F.C.C. has been requested to authorize
+nationwide operation. If the F.C.C. is persuaded by the results of the
+trial that subscription television is in the public interest and should
+be authorized nationally, then every home could have its own "television
+theatre" with the world's greatest and most costly entertainment offered
+for an admission well below the cost of witnessing these same events
+outside the home. With such premium-type programs added to entertainment
+now available from sponsored television, the home viewer would be able
+to obtain the ultimate of everything he wants to see on his own TV
+screen.
+
+
+[A] Reg. U.S. Pat. Off.
+
+
+FUSE REPLACEMENT
+
+Remove cabinet back for access to main chassis fuse if it ever becomes
+necessary to replace it.
+
+
+
+
+INSTALLATION INSTRUCTIONS FOR S-23427 ZENITH DIPLEXER
+
+
+The diplexer is designed for use with a combined VHF-UHF antenna system
+incorporating a single transmission line. Figures A, B, C, and D show
+diplexer installed on various chassis models. UHF reception should be
+tried with and without the inductance wire to obtain the best overall
+results. Disconnect leads from previous antenna system. Install diplexer
+assembly in manner most suitable to TV chassis model.
+
+NOTE: Always connect the diplexer assembly with coil terminal to VHF
+antenna terminal.
+
+
+[Illustration: FIG. A
+VHF ANTENNA TERMINALS
+ON TUNER
+
+CONNECT TRANSMISSION LINE
+FROM COMBINED VHF-UHF
+ANTENNA SYSTEM TO THESE
+TERMINALS
+
+UHF ANTENNA TERMINALS
+NOTE TO INSTALL DIPLEXER DISCONNECT
+CABINET ANTENNA LEADS]
+
+
+[Illustration: Fig. B
+
+VHF
+
+TO VHF TUNER
+
+NEW TERMINALS FOR COMBINATION
+VHF-UHF ANTENNA SYSTEM
+
+1 SNAP TERMINAL CUPS INTO HOLES LOCATED
+TO THE RIGHT OF VHF TERMINALS
+
+2 INSTALL DIPLEXER ASSEMBLY AS SHOWN
+
+3 CONNECT 300 OHM TRANSMISSION LINE (SUPPLIED WITH KIT)
+BETWEEN TERMINALS AS SHOWN
+
+UHF
+
+CONTINUOUS
+TUNER TERMINALS
+
+4 IF NECESSARY CONNECT UHF INDUCTANCE
+WIRE (SUPPLIED WITH KIT) AS SHOWN
+
+NOTE DISCONNECT PREVIOUS ANTENNA LEADS FROM VHF TERMINALS.
+
+DO NOT REMOVE LEADS FROM VHF TUNER TO ANTENNA TERMINALS.]
+
+
+[Illustration: Fig. C
+
+TO ANTENNA TERMINALS
+ON UHF TUNER
+
+TO ANTENNA
+
+INDUCTANCE WIRE
+
+TO ANTENNA TERMINALS
+ON VHF TUNER]
+
+
+[Illustration: Fig D.
+
+BEND DIPLEXER LUGS AND MOUNT AS SHOWN
+
+NOTE: DO NOT ALLOW DIPLEXER TERMINALS
+TO SHORT AGAINST CABINET BACK
+
+SOLDER LEADS & CONNECT
+TO UHF TERMINALS
+
+CONNECT
+300 OHM
+
+UHF
+
+NEW TERMINALS FOR COMBINATION
+VHF-UHF ANTENNA SYSTEM
+
+VHF ANTENNA TERMINALS ON TV SET]
+
+
+
+
+WHEN YOU MAIL THE REGISTRATION CARD BELOW THE WARRANTY ON YOUR
+
+ZENITH(R)
+
+TELEVISION RECEIVER BECOMES EFFECTIVE
+
+ 6711332
+ X2 317W
+ INST. BOOK
+
+WARRANTY IS VOID UNLESS REGISTRATION CARD IS RETURNED TO US WITHIN 15 DAYS
+AFTER DATE OF DELIVERY
+
+IMPORTANT--PLEASE FILL IN BOTH SECTIONS OF CARD
+
+ MAIL THIS CARD TODAY                                  MAIL THIS CARD TODAY
+
+
+
+
+                                                       SERIAL No.
+                                                       MODEL
+
+ OWNER'S NAME__________________________________
+
+ STREET________________________________________
+
+ CITY_______________________COUNTY___________STATE__________ZIP CODE_______
+
+ PURCHASED FROM______________________________________DATE__________________
+
+ ADDRESS___________________________________________________________________
+
+
+ MAIL THIS CARD TODAY                                  MAIL THIS CARD TODAY
+
+
+ ZENITH SALES CORPORATION
+
+ 6001 DICKENS AVENUE
+ CHICAGO, ILL. 60639
+
+ Printed in U.S.A.
+ G E D C B 202-2770
+
+
+
+
+
+
+

passages/pg28745.txt

@@ -0,0 +1,564 @@
+
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Louise Hope, David Edwards and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This
+file was produced from images generously made available
+by The Internet Archive)
+
+
+
+
+
+[Transcriber's Note:
+
+This text is intended for users whose text readers cannot use the "real"
+(Unicode/UTF-8) version of the file. The "oe" ligature used in Latin
+verses is shown in brackets as [oe]. All Greek text, including the title
+of the book, has been transliterated and shown between +marks+:
+
+  +Eugamoi, deipnôi tacheôs hekastos+
+
+Typographical errors are listed at the end of the e-text.]
+
+
+
+
++CHÊNÔIDIA+.
+
+
+  [Bookplate:
+  1650. SIGILL: COLL: HARVARD: CANTAB: NOV: ANGL:
+  The Gift of
+  Jacob Bigelow, M.D.,
+  of Boston.
+  (H. U. 1806)
+  13 Nov. 1871.]
+
+
+
+
+  Harvard College Library--
+  from Dr. Bigelow--
+
+
+
+
+  +CHÊNÔIDIA+,
+
+  or
+
+  THE CLASSICAL MOTHER GOOSE.
+
+
+Argutos inter strepere anser olores.
+
+  By
+  Jacob Bigelow
+
+
+  CAMBRIDGE:
+  _Printed_ (_Not Published_):
+  University Press.
+  1871.
+
+
+
+
+  1871, Nov. 13
+  Gift of
+  Jacob Bigelow, M.D. LL.D.
+  of Boston.
+  (H. U. 1806.)
+
+
+  University Press: Welch, Bigelow, & Co.,
+  Cambridge.
+
+
+
+
+PREFACE.
+
+
+The work familiarly known as "Mother Goose's Melodies" has the dignity
+of being already an undoubted classic among the most incipient
+cultivators of literature in the United States. It is a compilation
+taken mostly from "Gammer Gurton's Garland" or the "Nursery Parnassus,"
+an English child's book about a century old, of which various editions
+have been published in London, Glasgow, and other places. It is stated
+in one of its late prefaces that it was originally issued at Stockton
+in a small twopenny brochure, without date, printed by and for
+R. Christopher. Sir Harris Nicholas says it appeared in the year
+1783. The American "Mother Goose" contains many interpolated articles
+indigenous in the Western hemisphere, which are of various, and some
+even of doubtful merit.
+
+In England, the "Arundines Cami," the "Sabrinæ Corolla," and other
+representative works of distinguished seminaries, have occasionally
+drawn on "Gammer Gurton" for materials of their classic versions. These
+versions are sometimes stately in their prosodial exactness, and at
+other times as playfully loose as the original English ditties first
+set to rhyme by Gurton and afterwards copied by Goose.[A]
+
+The _Chenodia_, now first printed, an experiment for the author's own
+amusement, partly in classic verse of various metres, partly in mediæval
+and unclassic rhyme, and partly, like the original English, in no metre
+at all, is tendered as an offset for any disparagement of the dead
+languages contained in two essays read in 1865 and 1866, at a time when
+classical studies were paramount in Harvard University and other
+colleges of the United States.
+
+  J. B.
+
+
+    [Footnote A: There appears to be some reason for believing that
+    at least a century before Gammer Gurton's works were published in
+    England, a bodily "Mother Goose" was at work on the other side of
+    the Channel. In Scott's novel of "Woodstock," chapter 28, Charles
+    II., then a fugitive, says: "It reminds me, like half the things
+    I meet with in this world, of the 'Contes de Commère l'Oye.'" Not
+    having been able to obtain a sight of "Commère l'Oye," we must
+    leave the original claim for authorship as a field for future
+    controversy.]
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS.
+
+                                PAGE
+
+  Sprattus et Uxor                 9
+  Par Avium                       10
+  Rex Arthurus                    11
+  Mors Turdo-Galli                12
+  Puer Cæruleus                   13
+  Vetula Calceocola               14
+  Canis Kevensis                  14
+  Diccora Dogium                  15
+  Thomæ Quadrijugæ                16
+  Homunculus et Puellula          17
+  Bopipias                        20
+  Advenæ Mendici                  20
+  Lunicola                        21
+  Magi Gothamenses                22
+  Jackus et Jilla                 23
+  Felis in Fidibus                24
+  Grumbo Gigas                    25
+  Miles Redux                     26
+  Ansercula                       27
+  Labor et Cura                   28
+
+
+
+
+CHENODIA.
+
+
+SPRATTUS ET UXOR.
+
+  Jack Spratt could eat no fat,
+  His wife could eat no lean,
+  And so between them both
+  They licked the platter clean.
+
+    Sprattus horrescens adipem recusat,
+    Uxor et non vult tolerare macrum:
+    Conjuges digni! potuêre sic de-
+          tergere lancem.
+
+      +Sprattos ômêstês stear exeleipen;
+      Hê gunê sphodrôs apepheugen ischnon;
+      Eugamoi, deipnôi tacheôs hekastos
+                Pant' apoleichei.+
+
+
+PAR AVIUM.
+
+  Two little birds were sitting on a stone,
+  One flew away and then there was one,
+  T' other flew away and then there was none,
+  So the poor stone was left all alone.
+
+  One of the little birds back again flew,
+  In came t' other and then there were two;
+  Says one bird to t' other, "How do you do?"
+  "Very well, I thank you; pray how do you?"
+
+    Fama est par avium venisse insistere saxo,
+    Quarum primâ abeunte superstitit inde secunda:
+    Illa autem fugiens jam vix vestigia liquit,
+    Et saxum m[oe]rens in campo luget inani.
+
+    Ecce autem rediens avium comparuit una,
+    Altera non segnis sociam complectitur almam:
+    Arreptâque manu, "Quid agis dulcissima rerum?"
+    "Suaviter ut nunc est, et jam cupio omnia quæ vis."
+
+
+REX ARTHURUS.
+
+  When King Arthur ruled the land,
+    He ruled it like a king:
+  He bought four pecks of barley-meal
+    To make a brave pudding.
+
+  A pudding brave the king did make
+    And stuffed it well with plums;
+  Great lumps of suet he put into it,
+    As big as both his thumbs.
+
+  The king and queen partook thereof,
+    And all the court beside;
+  And what they did not eat that night,
+    The queen next morning fried.
+
+    Angliæ rex imperio potitus,
+    Hordei nactus modium farinæ,
+    Ordinat c[oe]nâ properè institutâ
+                Sternere mensam.
+
+    Mira farrago exoritur culinâ,
+    Turgidis uvis maculata passis
+    Intus et frustis adipis referta
+                Pollicis instar.
+
+    Rex et affines epulantur omnes
+    Principes magni dominæque lectæ:
+    Alma regina exoriente luce
+                Fragmina frixit.
+
+
+MORS TURDO-GALLI.
+
+  Who killed Cock Robin?
+    I, says the sparrow;
+    With my bow and arrow,
+  I killed Cock Robin.
+
+
+    Quis Turdo-gallum necavit?
+      En, adsum qui feci,
+      Qui telum conjeci;
+      Jaculis et arcu
+      Passer interfeci.
+
+
+PUER CÆRULEUS.
+
+  Little Boy Blue, come blow your horn,
+  The cow's in the meadow, the sheep in the corn.
+  Where's the little boy that looks after the sheep?
+  Under the haycock fast asleep.
+
+    C[oe]rule parve puer, cornu nunc suscipe cantum.
+    Per segetes errant pecudes, per pascua vaccæ.
+    Ah, ubi nunc ovium custos tam parvulus absit?
+    En, gregis oblitus sub f[oe]no dormit opaco.
+
+
+VETULA CALCEOCOLA.
+
+  There was an old woman who lived in a shoe,
+  Who had so many children she didn't know what to do;
+  She gave them some broth without any bread,
+  And whipt them all soundly and sent them to bed.
+
+    Calceus inclusit vetulam turbamque suorum,
+    Multum quæ luctans natos compescuit arctos;
+    Jus illis profert oblita apponere panem,
+    Verberibusque datis dormitum sæva remittit.
+
+
+CANIS KEVENSIS.
+
+  I am his Highness's dog at Kew.
+  Pray tell me, sir, whose dog are you?
+
+    Principis excelsi coram canis ecce Kevensis.
+    Dic mihi vicissim quæso cujus canis es tu?
+
+
+DICCORA DOGIUM.
+
+  Dickory dickory dock,
+  The mouse ran up the clock,
+  The clock struck one,
+  The mouse ran down,
+  Dickory dickory dock.
+
+    Diccora diccora dogium,
+    Ascendit mus horologium.
+        Insonuit hora,
+        Fugit mus sine morâ,
+    Diccora diccora dogium.
+
+      +Dikkora dikkora dogion+
+      Anebê mus eis hôrologion;
+          Hen! hôra ephê;
+          Ho de mus katebê.
+      Dikkora dikkora dogion.+
+
+      +Archete Dikkorikas moisai philai archet' aoidas.
+      Êgerthê poth' hurax, anebê d' eis hôrologêtên;
+      Kôdônos phthongon deinon katepheuge phobêtheis.
+      Lêgete Dikkorikas moisai ite lêget' aoidas.+
+
+
+THOMÆ QUADRIJUGÆ.
+
+  Tom's coach and six, whither in such haste going?
+  But a short journey, to his own undoing.
+
+    Quadrijugis Thomas quo nunc se proripit ille?
+    Abiit in celerem--brevis est via, nota--ruinam.
+
+
+HOMUNCULUS ET PUELLULA.
+
+      There was a little man,
+      And he wooed a little maid,
+  And he said, Little maid, will you wed wed wed?
+      I have little more to say,
+      Then will you ay or nay,
+  For the least said is soonest mended ded ded.
+
+    Homunculus eximius puellulam amavit,
+    Quam ut nubendam duceret sic ore compellavit:
+    Quid verbis opus pluribus? Dic _volo_, dicve _nolo_,
+    Sat verbum sapientibus: responde sine dolo.
+
+      Then the little maid replied,
+      "Should I be your little bride,
+  Pray, what shall we have for to eat eat eat?
+      Will the flame that you are rich in
+      Make a fire in the kitchen,
+  Or the little god of love turn the spit spit spit?"
+
+    Responsum dat puellula,--Si flectar ad nubendum
+    Dic, quæso, quid cibarii habebimus edendum?
+    Amorem credis ignem in culinâ servaturum,
+    Aut parvulum Cupidinem jam veru versaturum?
+
+      Then the little man replied,
+      And, they say, a little sighed,
+  For his little heart was big with sorrow sorrow sorrow,
+      "My offers are but small,
+      But you have my little all;
+  And what we haven't got we must borrow borrow borrow."
+
+    Replicuit homunculus suspiriis convulsus,
+    Ingenti ægritudine cor parvulum perculsus,
+    Non multa quidem profero, sed omnia relinquo;
+    Et quicquid nobis deerit petemus a propinquo.
+
+      The little man thus spoke;
+      His heart was almost broke;
+  And all for the sake of her charms charms charms.
+      So the little maid relented,
+      And softened she consented
+  The little man to take to her arms arms arms.
+
+    Sic fatur ille lacrymans ex corde desolato,
+    Et propter pulchritudinem ad mortem vulnerato.
+    Mollitur tum puellula, amorem et agnovit,
+    Beatumque homunculum amplexu suo fovit.
+
+
+BOPIPIAS.
+
+      Little Bo Peep has lost her sheep,
+  And couldn't tell where to find 'em.
+      Let 'em alone, and they'll come home,
+  And bring their tails behind 'em.
+
+    Parvula Bopipias amissos quæritat agnos,
+      Nec reperire locum quo latuêre potest.
+    Desine, Bopipias, redeuntes nocte videbis,
+      Caudasque incolumes post sua crura ferent.
+
+
+ADVENÆ MENDICI.
+
+  Hark, hark, the dogs do bark,
+  The beggars have come to town;
+  Some in rags and some in jags,
+  And some in velvet gowns.
+
+        En! cum canum latratu,
+        Et multo ululatu;
+    Veniunt mendici repentes,
+        Egeni, pannosi,
+        Squalentes, exosi,
+    Vel sericas togas gerentes.
+
+
+LUNICOLA.
+
+  The man in the moon came down at noon,
+    Inquiring the way to Norwich.
+  The man of the South has burnt his mouth,
+    Eating cold milk porridge.
+
+    Lunicola, meridie, ad terram descendebat,
+    Et viam ad Norvicum assidue quærebat.
+    Australis vir ineptus est et os excoriavit,
+    Dum lacteum perfrigidum incontinens voravit.
+
+
+MAGI GOTHAMENSES.
+
+  Three wise men of Gotham
+  Went to sea in a bowl.
+  If the bowl had been stronger,
+  My song had been longer.
+
+    Tres magi Gothamenses
+    In scypho mare tranant
+    Si cymba secura,
+    Canenda sint plura.
+
+    Cives tres docti Gothamenses æquora verrunt,
+      Crater et fragilis corpora obesa vehit.
+    Mox en tempestas, surguntque ad sidera fluctus.
+      Musa dolens casum nunc memorare nequit.
+
+
+JACKUS ET JILLA.
+
+      Jack and Jill
+      Went up the hill,
+  To draw a pail of water;
+      Jack fell down
+      And broke his crown,
+  And Jill came tumbling after.
+
+        Jackus cum Jillâ
+        Formosâ ancillâ,
+    Aquam hauriturus collem ascendebat;
+        Prolabitur Jackus,
+        Caput miserè fractus,
+    Et Jilla desperata in fatum ruebat.
+
+
+FELIS IN FIDIBUS.
+
+  Heigh diddle diddle,
+  The cat and the fiddle,
+  The cow jumped over the moon.
+    The little dog laughed
+    To see such a craft,
+  And the dish ran away with the spoon.
+
+      Hidideldelis,
+      In fidibus felis,
+    Super lunam vacca saltavit.
+      Tum risit canicula,
+      Visâ re tam ridiculâ,
+    Et lanx cochleare raptavit.
+
+
+GRUMBO GIGAS.
+
+  Fee! faw! fum!
+  I smell the blood of an Englishman.
+  Dead or alive, I will have some.
+
+    Fe! fau! fum!
+    Sanguinem odoror Anglicum.
+    Seu vivum seu mortuum,
+    Bibendum est mihi aliquantum.
+
+      +Phê! phou! phôn!
+      Haimatos osphrainomai tôn Anglôn;
+      Ê nekron ê zôn
+      Chairêsô pinôn.+
+
+
+MILES REDUX.
+
+  Who comes here?
+    A Grenadier.
+  What do you want?
+    A pot of beer.
+  Where's your money?
+    I've forgot.
+  Get you gone,
+    You drunken sot.
+
+    Heus! Quis illic?
+      Ductor militiæ.
+    Quid petis hic?
+      Cantharum cervisiæ.
+    Ubi moneta?
+      Loqueris oblito.
+    O, ebriose,
+      In malum abito.
+
+
+ANSERCULA.
+
+  Goosey goosey gander,
+  Where shall you wander?
+  Up stairs, down stairs,
+  In my lady's chamber.
+
+    Ansercula vagula, blandula,
+    Quæ nunc abibis in loca?
+    Sursum, deorsum,
+    In dominæ cubiculum.
+
+
+LABOR ET CURA.
+
+  Double double,
+  Toil and trouble.
+  Fire burn and
+  Caldron bubble.
+
+    Ingeminat labor,
+    Ingeminante curâ,
+    Cum flamma ardescit,
+    Aqua ebullitura.
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+           *       *       *       *
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Handwriting:
+
+The following were written by hand in the original. The bookplate and
+the title page are definitely by the same person; the others are less
+certain. 1806 was Jacob Bigelow's Harvard graduation year.
+
+  Bookplate: Text beginning "The Gift of..."
+
+  "Harvard College Library,
+  from Dr. Bigelow--"
+
+  Title Page: "By / Jacob Bigelow"
+
+  Entire "Gift of..." section, ending with parenthesized "H. U. 1806"
+
+
+Errata (noted by transcriber)
+
+  Sprattos ômêstês stear exeleipen;+
+    [Greek text printed with incorrect accents on last word]
+  PUER CÆRULEUS / C[oe]rule parve puer
+    [inconsistent spelling unchanged]
+  The man of the South has burnt his mouth,  [. for ,]
+  Fee! faw! fum!
+    [hand-written correction "f/" in margin: third "f" is damaged so it
+    looks like "r" or "i"]
+
+
+
+
+
+
+

passages/pg28830.txt

@@ -0,0 +1,475 @@
+
+
+
+Transcribed from the 1913 Thomas J. Wise pamphlet by David Price, email
+ccx074@pglaf.org
+
+
+
+
+
+                           THE SONGS OF RANILD
+
+
+                                    BY
+                              GEORGE BORROW
+
+                                 LONDON:
+                     PRINTED FOR PRIVATE CIRCULATION
+
+                                   1913
+
+
+
+
+THE SONGS OF RANILD.
+
+
+SONG THE FIRST.
+
+
+Up Riber's street the dance they ply,
+   _The Castle's won_, _the Castle's won_!
+There dance the knights most merrily,
+   _For young King Erik Erikson_.
+
+On Riber's bridge the dance it goes,
+   _The Castle's won_, _the Castle's won_!
+There dance the knights in scollop'd shoes,
+   _For young King Erik Erikson_.
+
+'Twas Riber Wolf the dance who led,
+   _The Castle's won_, _the Castle's won_!
+In faith to his King he had been bred,
+   _For young King Erik Erikson_.
+
+And next him danced the Tage Mouse,
+   _The Castle's won_, _the Castle's won_!
+Who Seneschal was in Ribe house,
+   _For young King Erik Erikson_.
+
+And then danced bold Sir Saltensee,
+   _The Castle's won_, _the Castle's won_!
+Followed by wealthy kinsmen three,
+   _For young King Erik Erikson_.
+
+The noble Limbekk dances next,
+   _The Castle's won_, _the Castle's won_!
+Whose power the King had often vext,
+   _For young King Erik Erikson_.
+
+After him danced the Byrge Green,
+   _The Castle's won_, _the Castle's won_!
+Then many a knight of handsome mien,
+   _For young King Erik Erikson_.
+
+And then came dancing Hanke Kann,
+   _The Castle's won_, _the Castle's won_!
+His Lady followed, good Dame Ann,
+   _For young King Erik Erikson_.
+
+The next that came was the Ridder Rank,
+   _The Castle's won_, _the Castle's won_!
+His Lady behind him, Berngard Blank,
+   _For young King Erik Erikson_.
+
+And then the high Volravn came,
+   _The Castle's won_, _the Castle's won_!
+His wife behind, who has no name,
+   _For young King Erik Erikson_.
+
+And then came dancing Sir Iver Helt,
+   _The Castle's won_, _the Castle's won_!
+Who followed his sovereign over the Belt,
+   _For young King Erik Erikson_.
+
+Long stood the Ranild Lang apart,
+   _The Castle's won_, _the Castle's won_!
+Ere he to join the dance had heart,
+   _For young King Erik Erikson_.
+
+"And were it not for my lovely hair,
+   _The Castle's won_, _the Castle's won_!
+In that brave dance I'd have a share,
+   _For young King Erik Erikson_.
+
+"But for my cheeks so rosy red,
+   _The Castle's won_, _the Castle's won_!
+The foremost in that dance I'd tread,"
+   _For young King Erik Erikson_.
+
+Then Ranild Lang to dance began,
+   _The Castle's won_, _the Castle's won_!
+And a ditty sang as he led the van,
+   _For young King Erik Erikson_.
+
+Sweet he warbled, light he sprang,
+   _The Castle's won_, _the Castle's won_!
+After him every warrior sang,
+   _For young King Erik Erikson_.
+
+Then up the Spendel Sko arose,
+   _The Castle's won_, _the Castle's won_!
+And on Ranild Lang her troth bestows,
+   _For young King Erik Erikson_.
+
+With silk was snooded her hair of gold,
+   _The Castle's won_, _the Castle's won_!
+She danced before them free and bold,
+   _For young King Erik Erikson_.
+
+And into the Castle they dance their way,
+   _The Castle's won_, _the Castle's won_!
+With drawn swords 'neath their scarlet array.
+   _For young King Erik Erikson_.
+
+Never, I ween, was a braver dance,
+   _The Castle's won_, _the Castle's won_!
+It wins the Castle of Rosenkrands,
+   _For young King Erik Erikson_.
+
+
+
+ SONG THE SECOND.
+
+
+To saddle his courser Ranild cried:
+   _For thus the tale was told to me_--
+"To visit the rich Greve I will ride,
+   Though banish'd from the land we be."
+
+To the house came Ranild spurring hard,
+   _For thus the tale was told to me_--
+There stood the Greve arrayed in mard,
+   Though banish'd from the land we be.
+
+"Hail, hail, Sir Greve, arrayed so fine!
+   _For thus the tale was told to me_--
+I want my bride, the little Kirstine,
+   Though banish'd from the land I be."
+
+Then up and spoke her mother dear:
+   _For thus the tale was told to me_--
+"Thou hast no bride, Sir Ranild, here,
+   For banish'd from the land ye be."
+
+"O if I can't my little bride get,
+   _For thus the tale was told to me_--
+On fire your house and your gear I'll set,
+   Though banish'd from the land I be."
+
+"O rather than ruin us in thy wrath,
+   _For thus the tale was told to me_--
+Receive thy bride and ride thy path,
+   Though banish'd from the land ye be."
+
+They o'er her threw the blue cloak with speed,
+   _For thus the tale was told to me_--
+And placed her upon Sir Ranild's steed,
+   Though banish'd from the land he be.
+
+They had for their bridal bed alone,
+   _For thus the tale was told to ne_--
+The holt, the field, and the mead new mown,
+   For banish'd from the land they be.
+
+"The forest can hear, and the mead can view,
+   _For thus the tale was told to me_--
+We here must live as outlaws do,
+   For banish'd from the land we be."
+
+"Hadst thou not helped the King to slay,
+   _For thus the tale was told to me_--
+In peace at home we now might stay,
+   But banish'd from the land we be."
+
+He struck her a blow the table o'er,
+   _For thus the tale was told to me_--
+"Should'st guard thy tongue, child, guests before,
+   Though banish'd from the land we be."
+
+He struck her on her face so fair:
+   _For thus the tale was told to me_--
+"In Erik's death I had no share,
+   Though banished from the land I be."
+
+
+
+SONG THE THIRD.
+
+
+So wide around the tidings bound
+   That Ranild's prisoner taken;
+Had he been aware how it would fare
+   He had not Hielm forsaken.
+The death of woe, spaed long ago,
+   They'll wreak on him now, I reckon.
+
+Into the hall steps Ranild tall,
+   And withouten trepidation;
+Bids his Lord good bye, and the chivalry
+   Who have at court their station.
+O, Lord Christ! be each man kept free
+   From misfortune and tribulation.
+
+"In mind dost bear, King Erik dear,
+   On whom may blessings pour,
+That service I wrought in your father's court,
+   Of all his swains the flower?
+Both in and out I've borne you about
+   In sunshine and in shower."
+
+"Yes, service you wrought in my father's court,
+   For money and clothes imparted,
+And betrayed his life to the foeman's knife,
+   Like a monster treacherous hearted.
+And as sure as now the crown's on my brow,
+   To the wheel thou shalt be carted."
+
+"Hew off, I intreat, my hands and feet,
+   Most willingly them I proffer;
+My eyes blood red tear out of my head,
+   And the worst death let me suffer;
+But all the pains that Ranild gains
+   For his treason scarce enough are."
+
+"Thine eyeballs twain thou may'st retain,
+   And thy hands and feet unriven;
+But thou thy breath shalt yield to a death
+   The cruellest under heaven;
+And be it known, for my father alone
+   This punishment is given."
+
+Ranild they brought from Roskild out,
+   He wrung his hands with sorrow;
+And the women all salt tears let fall,
+   Who lived in that ancient borough.
+The wretched wight wished all good night,
+   And a light heart on the morrow.
+
+Ranild they bore the town before,
+   The wheel his sight saluted:
+"Christ guard each noble from such like trouble,"
+   In agony he shouted,
+"If at Hielm I'd staid it had better sped,
+   Nor to that had I been devoted.
+
+"Would God would send a trusty friend,
+   Who would my message carry,
+To Kirstine fair, who sits in care,
+   To Ranild true to tarry.
+O Christ help all my babies small,
+   And bless my bosom's dearie!
+
+"Ye Christian folk, whom, with dying look,
+   On the mead I am discerning,
+A pater pray for my soul, to stay
+   Of God the anger burning;
+That me He receive this very eve
+   To the joys for which I'm yearning."
+
+
+
+
+CHILD STIG AND CHILD FINDAL
+
+
+Child Stig and Child Findal two brothers were they,
+There ne'er were two brothers more gallant and gay.
+
+Child Stig serves the Dane King in bower and hall,
+High dames brushed his hair, and fair maidens withal.
+
+Child Stig by the board of the Monarch he stood,
+To him little Kirstin was cruel of mood.
+
+"Full seven years I have been Lord of the Rune,
+Of its power I'll make trial this same afternoon."
+
+With his right hand he skinked the wine and the mead
+And cast with his left the Rune characters dread.
+
+To cast them on Kirstin the gallant Stig meant,
+But under the dress of Rigissa they went.
+
+O pallid as ashes the gallant Stig grew,
+And red as the blood was Rigissa to view.
+
+The gallant Child Stig placed his cap on his head,
+And unto his foster dame's chamber he sped.
+
+"Dear Foster dame, give me some counsel, I pray,
+How I may escape from this palace away.
+
+"To cast the Rune letters at Kirstin I meant,
+But under the dress of Rigissa they went.
+
+"I will mount my good courser so true and so tried,
+And away to the ends of the earth I will ride."
+
+Said she: "Shouldst thou travel all Finland around,
+This night at thy couch will Rigissa be found.
+
+"And e'en shouldst thou ride to the earth's farthest land,
+This night by thy couch she will certainly stand.
+
+"But, Child Stig, I advise thee, call up a good heart,
+And home to thy bed and thy slumbers depart.
+
+"She'll tap on the door of thy chamber, I ween,
+But still do thou keep, let her in by no mean.
+
+"But ten fingers has she, so tiny and small,
+And with them from the door she will pick the nails all.
+
+"She will set herself down on the side of thy bed,
+And play with the long yellow locks of thy head.
+
+"So fondly she'll stroke thy fair cheek in the dark,
+But do thou remain as thou wert stiff and stark.
+
+"She'll kiss thee full oft on thy lips rosy red,
+But do thou lie still as were life from thee fled."
+
+Child Stig he gave ear to his foster dame's rede,
+And away to his bed he betook him with speed.
+
+'Twas late in the even, and down fell the dew,
+Rigissa flung o'er her her mantle of blue.
+
+The lovely maid she her blue mantle put on,
+And unto the chamber of Stig she is gone.
+
+On the door of the chamber begins she to knock:
+"Arise, O Child Stig, and thy chamber unlock."
+
+"At the Ting to appear, I have summoned no wight,
+And none I'll admit to my chamber at night."
+
+She's fingers, ten fingers, so tiny and small,
+And out of the door she has picked the nails all.
+
+Fifteen iron nails, and a big stud of brass,
+Then into the chamber Rigissa could pass.
+
+She sat herself down by the side of the bed,
+And played with the locks of the young gallant's head.
+
+She kissed him full oft on his mouth rosy red,
+But still he remained as were life from him fled.
+
+In her arms the young Stig she so fondly did press,
+But quiet he lay nor returned her caress.
+
+Child Stig he awoke, and cast up his eyes:
+"Who wakes me from sleep in this manner?" he cries.
+
+"If I cannot, Rigissa, my rest for thee take,
+To the Dane King, thy brother, complaint I will make."
+
+"O thou may'st complain if thou feelest inclin'd,
+But thou art the man on whom standeth my mind."
+
+The very next morning ere high was the sun,
+Child Stig to complain to the Dane King is gone.
+
+"Dear Lord, I have this to complain of to thee,
+For thy sister at night I at rest cannot be."
+
+The King in displeasure his footboy address'd:
+"To come to my presence my sister request."
+
+Rigissa came in, 'fore the table stood she:
+"What mean'st thou, O brother, by sending for me?"
+
+"O here is a knight doth complaint of thee make,
+He cannot at night his repose for thee take."
+
+"It is but God's truth that his chamber I sought,
+But nothing unseemly betwixt us was wrought.
+
+"Steel, glowing steel, I will bear on my hand,
+And of crime with Child Stig I acquitted will stand."
+
+Long stood the Dane King, full of thought was his head:
+"With no better man I my sister can wed."
+
+All hearts in the Dane King's palace were gay,
+The Dane King has given his sister away.
+
+There was pleasure and smiling in every look,
+For his beloved Lady Child Stig the maid took.
+
+Child Stig he brews ale, and the wine doth prepare,
+He the Dane King invites to his castle so fair.
+
+The King and his gallant men all biddeth he,
+And the Queen of the Danes of the party should be.
+
+Outspake the fair Queen, on her steed as she rode:
+"Methinks I behold of Child Stig the abode."
+
+And thereto the page at her bridle replied:
+"Of Stig the brave castle is known far and wide.
+
+"Within with the richest of gold it is graced,
+Without with white silver 'tis all over cased."
+
+And, lo, when the gate of the castle they gained,
+Five shaggy white bears stood before it enchained.
+
+And when in procession they entered the court,
+Within it the hart and the roebuck did sport.
+
+In the midst of the court was a silver trough long,
+Of birds and of animals round it a throng.
+
+Above spread the poplar and linden their shade,
+In its coolness the hart and the little hind played.
+
+An apartment they entered, full lofty and fair,
+Was crowded with women so courtly of air.
+
+All of red amber composed was the floor,
+The roof with gilt letters was written all o'er.
+
+The table it was of the red shining gold
+The napkin of Agerwool rare to behold.
+
+The walls were constructed of fair marble stone,
+The beams of the roof of the whitest whale bone.
+
+On the floor they are dancing with rapture so high,
+Tall, slender, and stately Sir Stig dances by.
+
+Straight and slim as a sapling Child Stig dances up,
+In each hand holding a fair silver cup.
+
+Child Stig to the health of his bonny bride quaffed,
+And forest and meadow delightedly laughed.
+
+The forest it bloomed, the boughs leaves put forth--
+She excels every damsel in beauty and worth.
+
+Late in the evening the mist it descends,
+Child Stig his young bride to her chamber attends.
+
+Now gallant Child Stig has o'ercome his distress,
+He sleeps in the arm of a lovely princess.
+
+And Damsel Rigissa is free from her fright,
+By the side of Child Stig she reposes each night.
+
+                                 LONDON:
+               Printed for THOMAS J. WISE, Hampstead, N.W.
+
+                   _Edition limited to Thirty Copies_.
+
+               _Copyright in the United States of America_
+           _by Houghton_, _Mifflin & Co. for Clement Shorter_.
+
+
+
+
+
+

passages/pg28879.txt

@@ -0,0 +1,883 @@
+
+
+
+
+
+Produced by David Widger
+
+
+
+
+
+A HISTORY OF FRANCE FROM THE EARLIEST TIMES
+
+By Francois Pierre Guillaume Guizot
+
+
+Over 400 Steel Engravings and Woodcuts
+
+Illustrated by A. De Neuville
+
+Translated by Robert Black
+
+AN INDEX
+
+
+Edited by David Widger
+
+Project Gutenberg Editions
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+##  Antiquity to 1100
+
+##  1100 to 1380
+
+##  1380 to 1515
+
+##  1515 to 1589
+
+##  1589 to 1715
+
+##  1715 to 1789
+
+
+
+
+
+VOLUMES, CHAPTERS AND STORIES
+
+
+Antiquity to 1100
+
+EXTRACT FROM LETTER TO THE PUBLISHERS.
+
+A POPULAR HISTORY OF FRANCE
+CHAPTER I.	GAUL.
+CHAPTER II.	THE GAULS OUT OF GAUL.
+CHAPTER III.	THE ROMANS IN GAUL.
+CHAPTER IV.	GAUL CONQUERED BY JULIUS CAESAR.
+CHAPTER V.	GAUL UNDER ROMAN DOMINION.
+CHAPTER VI.	ESTABLISHMENT OF CHRISTIANITY IN GAUL.
+CHAPTER VII.	THE GERMANS IN GAUL.--THE FRANKS AND CLOVIS.
+CHAPTER VIII.	THE MEROVINGIANS.
+CHAPTER IX.	THE MAYORS OF THE PALACE. THE PEPINS.
+CHAPTER X.	CHARLEMAGNE AND HIS WARS.
+CHAPTER XI.	CHARLEMAGNE AND HIS GOVERNMENT.
+CHAPTER XII.	DECAY AND FALL OF THE CARLOVINGIANS.
+CHAPTER XIII.	FEUDAL FRANCE AND HUGH CAPET.
+CHAPTER XIV.	THE CAPETIANS TO THE TIME OF THE CRUSADES.
+CHAPTER XV.	CONQUEST OF ENGLAND BY THE NORMANS.
+CHAPTER XVI.    	THE CRUSADES, THEIR ORIGIN AND THEIR SUCCESS.
+List of Illustrations:
+
+Ideal Landscape of Ancient Gaul----13
+
+Gyptis Presenting the Goblet to Euxenes----17
+
+A Tribe of Gauls on an Expedition----27
+
+The Gauls in Rome----39
+
+The Women Defending the Cars----58
+
+The Roman Army Invading Gaul----61
+
+Mounted Gauls----66
+
+Vercingetorix Surrenders to Caesar----81
+
+Gaul Subjugated by the Romans----83
+
+From La Croix Rousse----86
+
+Eponina and Sabinus Hidden in a Vault----97
+
+Druids Offering Human Sacrifices----111
+
+The Huns at the Battle of Chalons----135
+
+"Thus Didst Thou to the Vase of Soissons."----139
+
+Battle of Tolbiacum----144
+
+The Sluggard King Journeying----156
+
+"Thrust Him Away, Or Thou Diest in his Stead."----160
+
+The Execution of Brunehaut----175
+
+The Battle of Tours----193
+
+"The Arabs Had Decamped Silently in the Night."----195
+
+Charlemagne at the Head of his Army----212
+
+Charlemagne Inflicting Baptism Upon the Saxons----215
+
+The Submission of Wittikind----218
+
+Death of Roland at Roncesvalles----227
+
+Charlemagne and the General Assembly----239
+
+Charlemagne Presiding at the School of The Palace----246
+
+He Remained There a Long While, and his Eyes Were Filled With Tears.----255
+
+Paris Besieged by the Normans----259
+
+The Barks of the Northmen Before Paris----260
+
+Count Eudes Re-entering Paris Right Through the Besiegers- ---262
+
+Ditcar the Monk Recognizing The Head of Morvan----273
+
+Hugh Capet Elected King----300
+
+"Who Made Thee King?"----302
+
+Gerbert, Afterwards Pope Sylvester Ii----304
+
+Notre Dame----310
+
+Knights and Peasants----312
+
+Robert Had a Kindly Feeling for the Weak and Poor----313
+
+"The Accolade."----324
+
+Normans Landing on English Coast----353
+
+William the Conqueror Reviewing his Army----357
+
+Edith Discovers the Body of Harold----360
+
+"God Willeth It!"----383
+
+The Four Leaders of the First Crusade----385
+
+The Assault on St. Jean D'acre----386
+
+
+
+
+1100 to 1380
+CHAPTER XVII.	THE CRUSADES, THEIR DECLINE AND END.
+CHAPTER XVIII.	THE KINGSHIP IN FRANCE.
+CHAPTER XIX.	THE COMMUNES AND THE THIRD ESTATE.
+CHAPTER XX.	THE HUNDRED YEARS' WAR.--PHILIP VI. AND JOHN II.
+CHAPTER XXI.	THE STATES--GENERAL OF THE FOURTEENTH CENTURY.
+CHAPTER XXII.    	THE HUNDRED YEARS' WAR.--CHARLES V.
+List of Illustrations:
+
+Richard's Farewell to the Holy Land----10
+
+Preaching the Second Crusade----13
+
+Defeat of the Turks----16
+
+The Christians of the Holy City Defiling Before Saladin.----28
+
+Richard Coeur de Lion Having the Saracens Beheaded.----37
+
+St. Louis Administering Justice----46
+
+Sire de Joinville----55
+
+The Death of St. Louis----64
+
+Louis the Fat on an Expedition----69
+
+Battle of Bouvines----81
+
+Death of de Montfort----104
+
+De La Marche's Parting Insult----126
+
+St. Louis Mediating Between Henry III. And his Barons---- 136
+
+"It is Rather Hard Bread."----146
+
+The Sicilian Vespers----156
+
+The Town and Fortress of Lille----164
+
+The Battle of Courtrai----167
+
+Colonna Striking the Pope----185
+
+The Hanging of Marigny----200
+
+The Peasants Resolved to Live According To Their
+Own Inclinations and Their Own Laws----209
+
+Insurrection in Favor of the Commune at Cambrai----214
+
+Burghers of Laon----220
+
+The Cathedral of Laon----233
+
+Homage of Edward Iii. To Philip Vi.----250
+
+Van Artevelde at his Door----264
+
+"See! See!" She Cried----283
+
+Statue of James Van Artevelde----296
+
+Queen Philippa at the Feet of The King----314
+
+John II., Called the Good----318
+
+"Father, Ware Right! Father, Ware Left!"----326
+
+Charles the Bad, King of Navarre, in Prison----335
+
+The Louvre in the Fourteenth Century----336
+
+Stephen Marcel----342
+
+The Murder of the Marshals----345
+
+"In his Hands the Keys of The Gates."----354
+
+Charles V.----371
+
+Big Ferre----376
+
+Bertrand Du Guesclin----388
+
+Putting the Keys on Du Guesclin's Bier----407
+
+
+
+
+1380 to 1515
+CHAPTER XXIII.	THE HUNDRED YEARS' WAR--CHARLES VI. AND THE DUKES OF BURGUNDY
+CHAPTER XXIV.	THE HUNDRED YEARS' WAR.--CHARLES VII. AND JOAN OF ARC (1422-1461)
+CHAPTER XXV.	LOUIS XI. (1461-1483.)
+CHAPTER XXVI.	THE WARS OF ITALY.-- CHARLES VIII. (1483-1498.)
+CHAPTER XXVII.   	THE WARS IN ITALY.--LOUIS XII. (1498-1515.)
+
+
+
+
+List of Illustrations
+
+Hotel de Ville Bourges----frontispiece
+
+The Procession Went over the Gates----16
+
+"Thou Art Betrayed."----26
+
+Charles Vi. And Odette----71
+
+Murder of the Duke Of Orleans----38
+
+Death of Valentine de Milan----45
+
+John the Fearless----51
+
+Already Distressed----57
+
+"Into the River!"----77
+
+The Body of Charles VI. Lying in State----84
+
+Portrait of Joan Of Arc----85
+
+Joan of Arc in Her Father's Garden----91
+
+Chinon Castle----95
+
+Joan Entering Orleans----104
+
+Herself Drew out the Arrow----109
+
+Joan Examined in Prison----128
+
+Philip the Good of Burgundy----144
+
+The Constable Made his Entry on Horseback----150
+
+Agnes Sorel----175
+
+Jacques Coeur----165
+
+Jacques Coeur's Hostel at Bourges----169
+
+Louis XI. And Burgesses Waiting for News----193
+
+Charles the Rash----203
+
+Louis XI. And Charles the Rash at Peronne----209
+
+Philip de Commynes----217
+
+The Corpse of Charles the Rash Discovered----236
+
+Louis XI. At his Devotions----255
+
+Views of the Castle Of Plessis-les-tours----258
+
+Louis XI----260
+
+Charles VIII.----263
+
+Anne de Beaujeu----264
+
+Meeting Between Charles VIII., and Anne of Brittany----282
+
+Charles VIII.----293
+
+Battle of Fornovo----303
+
+Castle of Amboise----308
+
+Louis XII----310
+
+Bayard----315
+
+States General at Tours----329
+
+Battle of Agnadello----334
+
+Cardinal D'amboise----347
+
+Chaumont D'amboise----350
+
+Bayard's Farewell----358
+
+Gaston de Foix----364
+
+
+
+
+1515 to 1589
+CHAPTER XXVIII.	FRANCIS I. AND CHARLES V.
+CHAPTER XXIX.	FRANCIS I. AND THE RENAISSANCE.
+CHAPTER XXX.	FRANCIS I. AND THE REFORMATION.
+CHAPTER XXXI.	HENRY II. (1547-1559.)
+CHAPTER XXXII.	FRANCIS II., JULY 10, 1559--DECEMBER 5, 1560.
+CHAPTER XXXIII.	CHARLES IX. AND THE RELIGIOUS WARS. (1560-1574.)
+CHAPTER XXXIV.    	HENRY III. AND THE RELIGIOUS WARS. (1574-1589.)
+
+
+
+
+List of Illustrations
+
+Cardinal Ximenes----14
+
+All Night A-horseback----19
+
+Bayard Knighting Francis I----19
+
+Leo X.----21
+
+Anthony Duprat----24
+
+Charles V----39
+
+Francis I. Surprises Henry Viii.----44
+
+The Field of the Cloth Of Gold----45
+
+The Constable de Bourbon----53
+
+The Death of Bayard----76
+
+Capture of Francis I.----91
+
+Louise of Savoy and Marguerite de Valois----102
+
+Francis I.----115
+
+The Duke of Orleans and Charles V.----128
+
+Claude de Lorraine, Duke of Guise----130
+
+Francis I.----137
+
+St. Thomas Aquinas and Abelard----140
+
+Clement Marot----162
+
+Francis I. Waits for Robert Estienne----168
+
+Rabelais----171
+
+The First Protestants----178
+
+The Castle of Pau----183
+
+William Farel----181
+
+Burning of Reformers at Meaux----188
+
+Erasmus----194
+
+Berquin Released by John de La Barre----198
+
+Heretic Iconoclasts----201
+
+Massacre of the Vaudians----218
+
+Calvin----222
+
+Gallery Henry Ii----230
+
+Anne de Montmorency----235
+
+Henry Ii.----235
+
+Diana de Poitiers----243
+
+Guise at Metz----244
+
+Francis Ii. And Mary Stuart Love Making----251
+
+Catherine De' Medici (in Her Young Days)----255
+
+Joust Between Henri Ii. And Count de Montgomery----268
+
+Francis Ii----269
+
+Mary Stuart----270
+
+Death of La Renaudie----283
+
+Louis de Bourbon, Prince of Condo----285
+
+Mary Stuart----284
+
+Coligny at the Death-bed of Francis Ii.----295
+
+Francis de Lorraine, Duke of Aumale and Of Guise----302
+
+Massacre of Protestants---305
+
+The Duke of Guise Waylaid---315
+
+Conde at the Ford---328
+
+Henry of Lorraine (duke Of Guise)----332
+
+Parley Before the Battle of Moncontour----337
+
+Admiral Gaspard de Coligny----346
+
+Charles Ix. And Catherine De' Medici----354
+
+Henry de Guise and the Corpse of Coligny----369
+
+The Queen of Navarre and the Huguenot----372
+
+Chancellor Michael de L'hospital----376
+
+The St. Bartholomew----383
+
+Henry Iii----388
+
+Indolence of Henry Iii---390
+
+Henry Le Balafre----400
+
+The Castle of Blois----428
+
+Henry Iii. and the Murder of Guise----437
+
+Henry of Navarre and the Scotch Guard----448
+
+
+
+
+1589 to 1715
+CHAPTER XXXV.	HENRY IV., PROTESTANT KING. (1589-1593.)
+CHAPTER XXXVI.	HENRY IV., CATHOLIC KING. (1593-1610.)
+CHAPTER XXXVII.	REGENCY OF MARY DE' MEDICI. (1610-1617.)
+CHAPTER XXXVIII.   	LOUIS XIII., CARDINAL RICHELIEU, AND THE COURT.
+CHAPTER XXXIX.	LOUIS XIII., CARDINAL RICHELIEU, AND THE PROVINCES.
+CHAPTER XL.	LOUIS XIII., RICHELIEU--CATHOLICS AND PROTESTANTS.
+CHAPTER XLI.	LOUIS XIII., CARDINAL RICHELIEU, AND FOREIGN AFFAIRS.
+CHAPTER XII.	LOUIS XIII., RICHELIEU, AND LITERATURE.
+CHAPTER XLIII.	LOUIS XIV., THE FRONDE--CARDINAL MAZARIN.
+CHAPTER XLIV.	LOUIS XIV., HIS WARS AND HIS CONQUESTS. 1661-1697.
+CHAPTER XLV.	LOUIS XIV., HIS WARS AND HIS REVERSES. (1697-1713.)
+CHAPTER XLVI.	LOUIS XIV. AND HOME ADMINISTRATION.
+CHAPTER XLVII.	LOUIS XIV. AND RELIGION.
+CHAPTER XLVIII.	LOUIS XIV., LITERATURE AND ART.
+
+
+
+
+LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
+
+Henry IV.----11
+
+Sully----37
+
+Henry IV. At Ivry----26
+
+Rosny Castle----30
+
+"Do Not Lose Sight of My White Plume."----30
+
+Alexander Farnese, Duke of Parma----32
+
+Charles de Lorraine, Duke of Mayenne----35
+
+Lemaitre, Mayenne, and the Archbishop of Lyons----53
+
+Henry IV.'s Abjuration----56
+
+The Castle of Monceaux----91
+
+The Castle of St. Germain in the Reign Of Henry IV.--107
+
+The Castle of Fontainbleau----124
+
+Gabrielle D'estrees--130
+
+Henry IV. And his Ministers----138
+
+The Arsenal in the Reign of Henry IV.----143
+
+Marie de Medicis----147
+
+Concini, Leonora Galigai, and Mary De' Medici----149
+
+Louis XIII. And Albert de Luynes----154
+
+Murder of Marshal D'Ancre----155
+
+Richelieu----180
+
+Double Duel----188
+
+"Tapping With his Finger-tips on the Window-pane."----191
+
+Henry, Duke of Montmorency, at Castelnaudary----199
+
+The King and the Cardinal----204
+
+Cinq-Mars and de Thou Going to Execution----215
+
+The Parliament of Paris Reprimanded----217
+
+The Barefoots----221
+
+The Abbot of St. Cyran----234
+
+Demolishing the Fortifications----244
+
+The Harbor of La Rochelle---248
+
+The King and Richelieu at La Rochelle----250
+
+John Guiton's Oath----254
+
+The Defile of Suza Pass----278
+
+Richelieu and Father Joseph----280
+
+Gustavus Adolphus----282
+
+Death of Gustavus and his Page----290
+
+The Palais-Cardinal----305
+
+The Tomb of Richelieu----308
+
+Descartes at Amsterdam----316
+
+The King's Press----323
+
+Peter Corneille----334
+
+The Representation of "The Cid."----335
+
+Corneille at the Hotel Rambouillet---342
+
+Louis XIV.----344
+
+The Great Conde----348
+
+Arrest of Broussel----352
+
+Cardinal de Retz----352
+
+"Ah, Wretch, if Thy Father Saw Thee!"----354
+
+President Mole----355
+
+The Great Mademoiselle----373
+
+Anne of Austria and Cardinal Mazarin----394
+
+Death of Mazarin.----399
+
+Fouquet----404
+
+Colbert----405
+
+Vaux Le Vicomte----405b
+
+Louis XIV. Dismissing Fouquet----407
+
+Louvois----411
+
+William III., Prince of Orange----434
+
+The Brothers Witt----436
+
+Death of Turenne----443
+
+Turenne.----444
+
+An Exploit of John Bart's----446
+
+Duquesne Victorious over Ruyter--446a
+
+Marshal Luxembourg--461
+
+Heinsius----461
+
+Battle of St. Vincent 465a
+
+The Battle of Neerwinden----465
+
+"Here is the King of Spain."----475
+
+News for William III.----481
+
+Bivouac of Louis XIV.----503
+
+The Grand Dauphin----505
+
+Marshal Villars and Prince Eugene----512
+
+Marly----525
+
+Colonnade of the Louvre 525a
+
+Versailles--526
+
+Vauban----534
+
+Misery of the Peasantry----543
+
+The Torture of the Huguenots--552
+
+Revocation of the Edict Of Nantes----556
+
+Death of Roland the Camisard----569
+
+Abbey of Port-Royal----580
+
+Reading the Decree 581
+
+Bossuet----591
+
+Blaise Pascal----597
+
+Fenelon and the Duke of Burgundy----610
+
+La Rochefoucauld and his Fair Friends----629
+
+La Bruyere----633
+
+Corneille Reading to Louis XIV.----642
+
+Racine----646
+
+Boileau-Despreaux----650
+
+La Fontaine, Boileau, Moliere, and Racine----657
+
+Moliere----664
+
+Death of Moliere----669
+
+Lebrun----674
+
+Le Poussin and Claude Lorrain----675
+
+Lesueur----676
+
+Mignard 677
+
+Perrault 678
+
+
+
+
+1715 to 1789
+CHAPTER XLIX.     	LOUIS XIV. AND HIS COURT.
+CHAPTER L.	LOUIS XIV. AND DEATH. 1711-1715.
+CHAPTER LI.	LOUIS XV., THE REGENCY, AND CARDINAL DUBOIS. 1715-1723.
+CHAPTER LII.	LOUIS XV., THE MINISTRY OF CARDINAL FLEURY., 1723-1748.
+CHAPTER LIII.	LOUIS XV., FRANCE IN THE COLONIES. 1745-1763.
+CHAPTER LIV.	LOUIS XV., THE SEVEN YEARS' WAR.
+CHAPTER LV.	LOUIS XV., THE PHILOSOPHERS.
+CHAPTER LVI.	LOUIS XVI., MINISTRY OF M. TURGOT. 1774-1776.
+CHAPTER LVII.	LOUIS XVI., FRANCE ABROAD.--UNITED STATES' WAR
+CHAPTER LVIII.	LOUIS XVI., FRANCE AT HOME.--MINISTRY OF M. NECKER.
+CHAPTER LIX.	LOUIS XVI., M. DE CALONNE AND THE ASSEMBLY OF NOTABLES.
+CHAPTER LX.	LOUIS XVI., CONVOCATION OF THE STATES-GENERAL. 1787-1789.
+
+
+
+
+List of Illustrations
+
+The Grand Monarch in his State Robes----9
+
+Madame de La Valliere----10
+
+Madame de Montespan 12
+
+The Iron Mask----14
+
+Bed-chamber Etiquette----15
+
+Madame de Maintenon and the Duchess of Burgundy.----27
+
+Death of Madame de Maintenon.----34
+
+The King Leaving the Death-bed of Monseigneur----36
+
+Louis XIV. In Old Age----47
+
+The Death-bed of Louis XIV.----50
+
+Versailles at Night----52
+
+The Regent Orleans----54
+
+The Bed of Justice----57
+
+John Law----62
+
+La Rue Quincampoix---68
+
+The Duke and Duchess of Maine----71
+
+Cardinal Dubois----78
+
+Peter the Great and Little Louis XV.----82
+
+Belzunce Amid the Plague-Stricken----96
+
+The Boy King and his People----104
+
+Death of the Regent---107
+
+Louis XV.----110
+
+Cardinal Fleury--110
+
+Mary Leczinska----121
+
+Death of Plelo----130
+
+"Moriamur Pro Rege Nostro."----142
+
+Louis XV. and his Councillors----148
+
+Louis XV. and the Ambassador of Holland----151
+
+Marshal Saxe 154
+
+Battle of Fontenoy----157
+
+Brussels----159
+
+The Citadel of Namur----161
+
+Arrest of Charles Edward----166
+
+Dupleix----168
+
+La Bourdonnais----170
+
+Dupleix Meeting the Soudhabar of The Deccan----174
+
+Death of the Nabob Of The Carnatic----174
+
+Lally at Pondicherry----184
+
+Champlain----190
+
+Death of General Braddock----203
+
+Death of Wolfe----209
+
+Madame de Pompadour----215
+
+Attack on Fort St. Philip----218
+
+Assassination of Louis XV. by Damiens----221
+
+Death of Chevalier D'Assas----233
+
+Antwerp----234
+
+"France, Thy Parliament Will Cut off Thy Head Too!"--249
+
+Defeat of the Corsicans at Golo----256
+
+Montesquieu----269
+
+Fontenelle----274
+
+Voltaire----277
+
+The Rescue of "La Henriade."----283
+
+Arrest of Voltaire----298
+
+Diderot----314
+
+Alembert----317
+
+Diderot and Catherine II.----321
+
+Buffon 323
+
+Rousseau and Madame D'Epinay----338
+
+Louis XVI.----347
+
+Turgot's Dismissal----367
+
+Destruction of the Tea----378
+
+Suffren----413
+
+The Reading of "Paul and Virginia."----427
+
+Necker Hospital----432
+
+Marie Antoinette 456
+
+"There Are My Sledges, Sirs."----458
+
+Lavoisier----465
+
+Cardinal Rohan's Discomfiture----470
+
+Arrest of the Members----502
+
+Genealogical Tables----545
+
+
+
+
+
+
+

passages/pg29123.txt

@@ -0,0 +1,456 @@
+
+
+
+Transcribed from the 1913 Thomas J. Wise pamphlet by David Price, email
+ccx074@pglaf.org.  Many thanks to Norfolk and Norwich Millennium Library,
+UK, for kindly supplying the images from which this transcription was
+made.
+
+                     [Picture: Manuscript of Ramund]
+
+
+
+
+
+                                   THE
+                            FOUNTAIN OF MARIBO
+                            AND OTHER BALLADS
+
+
+                                    BY
+                              GEORGE BORROW
+
+                                 LONDON:
+                     PRINTED FOR PRIVATE CIRCULATION
+
+                                   1913
+
+               _Copyright in the United States of America_
+             _by Houghton Mifflin & Co. for Clement Shorter_.
+
+
+
+
+THE FOUNTAIN OF MARIBO
+OR
+THE QUEEN AND THE ALGREVE
+
+
+The Algreve {7} he his bugle wound
+   _The long night all_--
+The Queen in bower heard the sound,
+   _I'm passion's thrall_.
+
+The Queen her little page address'd,
+   _The long night all_--
+"To come to me the Greve request,"
+   _I'm passion's thrall_.
+
+He came, before the board stood he,
+   _The long night all_--
+"Wherefore, O Queen, has sent for me?"
+   _I'm passion's thrall_.
+
+"As soon as e'er my lord is dead,
+   _The long night all_--
+Thou shalt rule o'er my gold so red,"
+   _I'm passion's thrall_.
+
+"O speak not, Queen, in such wild style,
+   _The long night all_--
+Thou know'st not who may list the while,"
+   _I'm passion's thrall_.
+
+She fondly thought alone they were,
+   _The long night all_--
+There stood the King, to all gave ear,
+   _I'm passion's thrall_.
+
+The King two serving men address'd,
+   _The long night all_--
+"To come to me the Queen request,"
+   _I'm passion's thrall_.
+
+"Hear thou, my Queen, so fair and sleek,
+   _The long night all_--
+What with the Algreve didst thou speak?"
+   _I'm passion's thrall_.
+
+"The speech that I with him did hold,
+   _The long night all_--
+Was all about thy actions bold,"
+   _I'm passion's thrall_.
+
+"The King two servants did command,
+   _The long night all_--
+"Bid ye the Greve before me stand,"
+   _I'm passion's thrall_.
+
+"Hear thou, my Greve, what with my Queen
+   _The long night all_--
+Didst thou discourse of yestere'en?"
+   _I'm passion's thrall_.
+
+"The whole discourse that we did hold,
+   _The long night all_--
+Was of thy virtues manifold,"
+   _I'm passion's thrall_.
+
+The King his little page address'd,
+   _The long night all_--
+"To come to me the cook request,"
+   _I'm passion's thrall_.
+
+"Thou cook, the Greve to pieces chop,
+   _The long night all_--
+And to thy Lady serve him up,"
+   _I'm passion's thrall_.
+
+Long sat the Queen, the meat she eyed,
+   _The long night all_--
+"This is no Roe I'm satisfied,
+   _I'm passion's thrall_.
+
+"But 'tis the Greve our hall who grac'd."
+   _The long night all_--
+The pieces she collects in haste,
+   _I'm passion's thrall_.
+
+She wrapped them in white ermine skin,
+   _The long night all_--
+A gilded chest she placed them in.
+   _I'm passion's thrall_.
+
+She them collects, then wends her slow,
+   _The long night all_--
+Unto the fount of Maribo.
+   _I'm passion's thrall_.
+
+She dipped them in the water pure,
+   _The long night all_--
+"Rise, Christian man, I thee conjure!"
+   _I'm passion's thrall_.
+
+The man arose, and thanked his God,
+   _The long night all_--
+Then from the country forth he trod.
+   _I'm passion's thrall_.
+
+
+
+
+RAMUND
+
+
+Ramund thought he should a better man be
+   If better apparel arrayed him;
+Of garments of leather, and hemp patch'd together,
+   The Queen then a present made him.
+"These I will not wear," bold Ramund he said,
+   "They beseem me not fair," said Ramund the young.
+
+"Your garments of tow and leather bestow
+   On the cleaners of trencher and platter."
+The Lady to give him fresh clothes was not slow,
+   And of sammet and silk were the latter.
+"Yes, these will I wear," bold Ramund he said,
+   "They beseem me right fair," said Ramund the young.
+
+Ramund he into the shop now hies,
+   Where the best of all tailors was sitting:
+"Now wilt thou, O tailor, so dext'rous and wise,
+   Make clothes for Ramund fitting?"
+"And why should I not?" the tailor he said,
+   "Then thou'lt do well I wot," said Ramund the young.
+
+"Twice twenty-five ells for the breeches take,
+   Fifteen for the points of the breeches;
+And them thou must strong and durable make
+   If thou therein settest stitches."
+"These are too tight," bold Ramund he said,
+   "I can't stride out aright," said Ramund the young.
+
+Now Ramund his ships beside the shore
+   With everything needful prepareth;
+And away, away, the salt ocean o'er
+   To the land of the Jutuns he beareth.
+"We are come to this soil," bold Ramund he said,
+   "And withouten much toil," said Ramund the young.
+
+Ramund he wanders along the strand,
+   There seven tall Giants faced him:
+"If I take Ramund in my left hand
+   I afar from the land will cast him."
+"You'll not do that alone," bold Ramund he said,
+   "Ye must come every one," said Ramund the young.
+
+Ramund drew out his trusty glaive,
+   To which Dymling for name he had given;
+And dead to the earth with seven blows brave
+   He hewed the Jotuns seven.
+"There ye all seven lie," bold Ramund he said,
+   "And still living am I," said Ramund the young.
+
+Ramund walked on till the big Jutt he spied,
+   And to see him he sorely wonder'd;
+For full fifty ells was his carcase wide,
+   And his height was nearly a hundred.
+"What a breadth, what a height!" bold Ramund he said,
+   "Dost wish for a fight?" said Ramund the young.
+
+"Dear Ramund, if thou wilt let me live,
+   And to me no damage wilt proffer,
+I'll bathe thee in wine, and to thee I will give
+   Seven bushels of gold from my coffer."
+"Make 'em eight, if you will," bold Ramund he said,
+   "I will cut thee down still," said Ramund the young.
+
+The first, first day that together they fought
+   With their naked fists they contested;
+Then Ramund he hold of the Jutt's beard caught
+   And the flesh from the teeth he wrested.
+"Thou grinnest full evil, bold Ramund," he said,
+   "Thou look'st worse than the Devil," said Ramund the young.
+
+Next day they set to at the rise of the sun,
+   Again with a rage unexampled;
+The huge stone mountain they stood upon
+   To the earth 'neath their feet was trampled.
+"'Tis hard sport, I swear!" the giant he said,
+   "We began but this year," said Ramund the young.
+
+Then Ramund again to his sword recurred,
+   To which Dymling for name he had given;
+And the head of the Jutt, which no ox could have stirred,
+   He hewed high unto the heaven.
+"'Twould not cut well I thought," bold Ramund he said
+   "Yet it cut as it ought," said Ramund the young.
+
+Ramund he into the mountain strode,
+   Where the small trolds house were keeping;
+The tears fast down their visages flow'd,
+   For Ramund they fell to weeping.
+"Do ye weep for me," bold Ramund he said,
+   "I'll ne'er weep for ye," said Ramund the young.
+
+Now Ramund behold is dealing his blows
+   Like the Kemps most famed for fighting;
+About and around in the cave he goes
+   To the earth the demons smiting.
+"I rule here at my ease," bold Ramund he said,
+   "And can do what I please," said Ramund the young.
+
+On his ship entered he so vehemently
+   That it cracked his vehemence under;
+In the ship the men all began loudly to bawl
+   And thought they should certainly founder.
+"We shall not sink here," bold Ramund he said,
+   "So ye need not to fear," said Ramund the young.
+
+Now Ramund he straight seven ships did freight
+   With the gold which the Trolds had hoarded;
+Then across the tide to the land he hied
+   O'er which the Emperor lorded.
+"To this land we are come," bold Ramund he said,
+   "We no farther will roam," said Ramund the young.
+
+On the white sand Ramund his anchor flung,
+   The high prow strandward turning;
+And the very first man to land that sprung
+   Was himself, with eagerness burning.
+"Now do nothing more," bold Ramund he said,
+   "All labour give o'er," said Ramund the young.
+
+To the Ball-house he sped, where the kempions play'd
+   At ball with glee and vigour;
+But at his coming all stood adread,
+   At the sight of so fierce a figure.
+"Pretty sport is this same," bold Ramund he said,
+   "I'll make one in the game," said Ramund the young.
+
+With fear and dismay upon his brow
+   From a window the Emperor gazes:
+"O who is that man in the yard below
+   That makes such horrible faces?"
+"'Tis I, and with glee," bold Ramund he said,
+   "I'll do battle with thee," said Ramund the young.
+
+Ramund he struck on his sword amain,
+   The earth to its centre trembled;
+The small birds swooned and fell on the plain,
+   On the bough that were singing assembled.
+"Come down to me, knave," bold Ramund he said,
+   "Or by God I shall rave," said Ramund the young.
+
+Ramund he into the door now trode,
+   His face like a burning ember:
+"Though iron and steel oppose my road
+   I'll penetrate to his chamber."
+"Now be on thy guard," bold Ramund he said,
+   "I'm about to strike hard," said Ramund the young.
+
+On the door Ramund smote with an iron bar stout,
+   The castle was rent and parted;
+'Neath that blow's power nod wall and tower,
+   From their place the windows started.
+"You see I broke in," bold Ramund he said,
+   "Now at stake is thy skin," said Ramund the young.
+
+"Dear Ramund, dear Ramund, my life now spare,
+   And with benefits thee I'll cover;
+I'll give thee my youngest daughter fair,
+   And the half of the land I rule over."
+"Can take all any tide," bold Ramund he said,
+   "And thy daughter beside," said Ramund the young.
+
+Ramund then drew out Dymling his blade,
+   Of his valour the trusty assistant;
+And he hewed at the Emperor so that his head
+   Flew fifteen furlongs distant.
+"I thought 'twould not sever," bold Ramund he said,
+   "But the blood runs however," said Ramund the young.
+
+
+
+
+ALF OF ODDERSKIER
+
+
+Alf he dwells at Odderskier,
+   Is rich and bold withal;
+Two stout and stalwart sons has he
+   Whom men do kempions call.
+
+Yes, two stout sons of mighty fame
+   Has Alf of Odderskier;
+Of the king who dwells on Upsal fells
+   They love the daughter fair.
+
+It was youthful Helmer Kamp,
+   From stall his courser led;
+"O I will hie me up the land
+   And the king's fair daughter wed."
+
+It was youthful Angelfyr
+   He sprang on his courser's back:
+"And I will ride to Upsal too,
+   Though the earth beneath me crack."
+
+And when they entered the castle yard
+   They doffed their cloaks of skin;
+Then straight they strode to the high, high hall,
+   To the monarch of Upsal in.
+
+In came youthful Helmer Kamp,
+   With grace and beauty rife:
+"O King, thy daughter dear I love,
+   Wilt give her me for wife?"
+
+In came youthful Angelfyr,
+   His steely helmet shone:
+"O King, give up thy daughter to me,
+   And straight from the land begone."
+
+Then answered soon the Upsal-King,
+   And a brave reply he gave:
+"On my daughter I'll no husband force,
+   She'll choose whom she will have."
+
+"Now many thanks, dear father, that
+   Thou leav'st the choice to me;
+I'll plight me to young Helmer Kamp,
+   He's like a man to see.
+
+"But I'll not have young Angelfyr,
+   He's an ugly Trold to view;
+His father so is, his mother so is,
+   So are all his kindred too."
+
+Then answered the young Angelfyr,
+   So sorely wroth he grew:
+"Come, brother, come to the court-yard down,
+   For her we will battle do."
+
+Then up and spake the Upsal King,
+   And the Upsal King did say:
+"The swords are sharp, the swains are stark,
+   There'll be, I trow, good play."
+
+Alf he stands at Odderskier,
+   And he listens the mountains tow'rds;
+Then must he hear so far, far off
+   The clash of his children's swords.
+
+And that heard Alf of Odderskier,
+   So far across the down:
+"What have my sons now got in hand?
+   Why so wrathful are they grown?"
+
+He tarried then so short a space,
+   He sprang on his courser red;
+And he arrived at Upsala
+   Before his sons lay dead.
+
+"Now tell me, youthful Helmer Kamp,
+   Tell me my dearest son,
+Wherefore so free from thy flesh and bone
+   Those bloody rivers run?"
+
+Then answered the young Helmer Kamp,
+   As he writhed him round with pain;
+This Angelfyr, my brother, has done
+   Since the maid he could not gain.
+
+I have full fifteen mortal wounds,
+   They are blent with poison all;
+But if I had only one of them,
+   I dead full soon must fall."
+
+"Now list to me, young Angelfyr,
+   Beloved son of mine;
+Say, wherefore trembles so the sword,
+   In that good hand of thine?"
+
+"Ask'st thou why trembles so the sword
+   In this right hand of mine?
+Because I've eighteen mortal wounds,
+   And to hurt me they combine.
+
+"I have full eighteen mortal wounds,
+   And each so deadly sore;
+If I had only one of them
+   I could not live an hour."
+
+It was Alf of Odderskier,
+   An oak by the root uptore;
+It was the young Helmer Kamp
+   Whom dead he laid in gore.
+
+Now lie the valiant kempions two,
+   Within a single grave;
+And the King to his daughter cannot give
+   The swain whom she will have.
+
+Sore sorrows Alf of Odderskier,
+   His valiant children slain.
+Whilst Upsal's King may still at home
+   His daughter fair retain.
+
+                                 LONDON:
+               Printed for THOMAS J. WISE, Hampstead, N.W.
+
+                   _Edition limited to Thirty Copies_.
+
+
+
+
+Footnote:
+
+
+{7}  A title of dignity, equivalent to that of Count.
+
+
+
+
+
+

passages/pg29210.txt

@@ -0,0 +1,582 @@
+
+
+
+
+
+Produced by David Edwards, KarenD, and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This
+file was produced from images generously made available
+by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+  OUT
+
+  _of the_
+
+  NORTH
+
+
+  [Illustration]
+
+
+  HOWARD V. SUTHERLAND
+
+
+
+
+_BY THE SAME AUTHOR_
+
+
+  IDYLLS OF GREECE _Series One_
+  IDYLLS OF GREECE _Series Two_
+  THE WOMAN WHO COULD
+  THE LEGEND OF LOVE
+  IDAS AND MARPESSA
+
+
+
+
+_OUT OF THE NORTH_
+
+
+
+[Illustration: JOAQUIN MILLER]
+
+
+
+  _OUT OF THE
+  NORTH_
+
+
+  _By_
+  _Howard V. Sutherland_
+
+
+  _With a Foreword by_
+  _Joaquin Miller_
+
+
+  [Illustration]
+
+
+  _New York_
+  _Desmond FitzGerald, Inc._
+  _Mcmxiii_
+
+
+  _Copyright 1913 by_
+  DESMOND FITZGERALD, INC.
+
+
+_To_ FREDERICK H. RANDALL
+
+
+
+
+_CONTENTS_
+
+
+                                                                 Page
+  _Frontispiece, Joaquin Miller, Dawson, Y. T._
+  _Foreword by Joaquin Miller_
+  _The Northern Light_                                              1
+  _In Winter_                                                       2
+  _Lyric_                                                           3
+  _Dark Days_                                                       4
+  _The Unanswerable_                                                5
+  _Vain Dreams_                                                     6
+  _December_                                                        7
+  _The Unassuageable_                                               8
+  _Father Judge S. F._                                              9
+  _The Light-o'-Love_                                           10-11
+  _Two Quests_                                                     12
+  _The Return of the Sun_                                          13
+  _Klondyke Roses_                                                 14
+  _A Song for the Return of Birds_                                 15
+  _The Forest Cotillion_                                           16
+  _The Spruces of the Forest_                                      17
+  _The Wild Lover_                                                 18
+  _Homeward Bound_                                                 19
+  _Approaching Night_                                              20
+
+
+
+
+FOREWORD
+
+
+Songs from a far-away world; a cry from another sphere. To those of
+us who once experienced the still and pitiless cold, a cry terribly
+suggestive of the horror-charged gloom, of the icy silence as
+unbroken as that of unfathomable deeps, of the stern and
+uncompromising individuality of a disturbed and vengeful North.
+
+Yet one is also reminded that, even in the Klondyke, in due season
+the brooding spruces are awakened from slumber by the songs of
+happy-throated songsters, that the melancholy of the forest is
+brightened by gay flowers. The weight is then lifted from men's
+hearts; singing is heard in the cabin, and the sound of laughter on
+the trail. When the mighty Yukon is open to the Behring Sea, the far
+North is in touch with the world and men are glad.
+
+But the Arctic summer is short-lived. The days of the bird and the
+flower and the rippling creeks are numbered. Soon the sky turns grey,
+the wind chants the sun's requiem, the snow falls; and then returns
+the cold, the gloom, the feeling of isolation, the indescribable
+terror.
+
+I heard these songs sung in the Arctic, the singer at my side--these
+songs of nature, songs of hope, home, heart. They seem a part of my
+life. I heard them as the cry of a lone bird in the vast silence of
+eternal snows.
+
+  JOAQUIN MILLER
+  THE HEIGHTS, CAL.
+  _Nov. 15th '99_
+
+
+
+
+_The Northern Light_
+
+
+    Who drapes that mystic veil across that everbrooding sky?
+      Who hues it with a soul of pearl? Who draws it to and fro?
+    Who breathes upon it with the breath that makes it glow and die,
+      Lighting that crystal river, those mountains cowl'd with snow?
+
+
+
+
+_In Winter_
+
+
+    Beneath the snow the mosses sleep
+      Amid the forest's silence;
+    Above, the stately birches keep
+        Unbroken vigils.
+
+    The spruce trees dream of summer hours
+      And birds that carrolled sweetly,
+    Of gentle winds and smiling flowers
+        That died too quickly.
+
+
+
+
+_Lyric_
+
+
+    Tell me, tell me, gentle stars,
+      Ever watchful, ever bright,
+    From your stations in the sky
+      Do you see my love to-night?
+
+    White the snow beneath my feet,
+      Whiter far her holy breast;
+    Peaceful are the mighty woods,
+      But her eyes are soft with rest.
+
+    Sweet the scent of spruce and pine,
+      Sweeter, though, her fragrant breath;
+    Tell her, tell her, gentle stars,
+      I am hers alone till death.
+
+
+
+
+_Dark Days_
+
+
+    The sun has left his throne,
+      The sky is leaden-hued;
+    The hopeless winds bemoan,
+      In icy aisles, their fate.
+
+    All day the shadows press
+      About the forest's nuns,
+    That dream in loneliness
+      Their dreams of birds and spring.
+
+
+
+
+_The Unanswerable_
+
+
+    O sombre skies that ever mourn,
+      O silent skies so grey and stern,
+    Are ye the curtains of that bourne
+      Where we at last our fate must learn?
+
+    Is it behind your gloomy veil
+      The Judge with Book of Judgment stands?
+    Where we must pass, with faces pale,
+      Awaiting judgment at His hands?
+
+    O sombre skies that frown all day
+      Upon us hopeless, hapless men,
+    When Death shall beckon us away
+      What happens then? What happens then?
+
+
+
+
+_Vain Dreams_
+
+
+    The trees, my sisters, robed in white,
+          Now dream of spring;
+    Of sun-lit day and fragrant night,
+          Of birds that sing.
+
+    They little think that I can tell
+          About their pain;
+    They do not know I dream as well
+          A dream most vain.
+
+
+
+
+_December_
+
+
+    Beneath a shroud of unpolluted white,
+      The frozen hills lie silent and asleep;
+      And moveless spruce and ghostly birches keep
+    Their silent vigils through the endless night.
+    The frozen creeks, long voiceless, partly veiled
+      'Neath drifting snow, dream fondly of the trees;
+      Within the woods no bird's song and no breeze
+    Make wondrous music when the skies have paled.
+    The kingly sun ne'er sends his laughing rays
+      To wake the hills and warm the trees and streams;
+      His face is hid, and hid are now the beams
+    That woke the world on long-dead summer days.
+    The patient moon with all her silent train
+      Of maiden stars patrols the roads on high,
+      And watches well all things that sleeping lie
+    Till Spring's first song shall waken them again.
+    The white world sleeps, and all is very still,
+      Except when rises on the frosted air
+      From out its chilly and forbidding lair
+    A lone wolf's howl, long-drawn and terrible.
+
+
+
+
+_The Unassuageable_
+
+
+    I sometimes hear among the snow-clad trees
+    The lone wind chanting solemn symphonies.
+
+    I sometimes smell, while yet the woods are bare,
+    The breath of unborn blossoms in the air.
+
+    I am at times aware of gentle sighs
+    There where the creek, ice-fettered, dreaming lies.
+
+    I sometimes witness when the air is still
+    Unearthly splendors on the white-robed hill.
+
+    I sometimes read in flashing stars at night
+    Mysterious promises of future light.
+
+    But what can make a spirit's anguish less,
+    Or ease a heart's eternal loneliness?
+
+
+
+
+_Father Judge, S. F._
+
+
+    Here was a man, a humble minister
+    Beloved of all in northern latitudes
+    Who knew the value of the kingly heart
+    That beat beneath his worn and priestly coat.
+
+    A soldier he, who ne'er forsook his post;
+    Whose actions were more numerous than words;
+    His soul was God's; his heart and body man's--
+    Nothing his own except our gratitude.
+
+    Worn e'er his time by hardship none may know
+    Who shirked the bitter schooling of the North,
+    He passed away, and now forever stands
+    As close to God as gentle Damien.
+
+
+
+
+_The Light-o'-Love_
+
+
+    The dogs were whining; they sensed too well
+      The load upon the sled;
+    The rough-hewn box with the light-o'-love--
+          A girl, 'twas said.
+
+    A week ago, at the Palace Bar,
+      She sang the songs of France;
+    But many a heart is lead the while
+          The feet must dance.
+
+    Kisses she gave and kisses she took,
+      Sinned for her daily bread;
+    But all we knew as we eyed the box
+          Was: she was dead.
+
+    We placed upon it (How much it hurt
+      Only the good God knows!)
+    A gaud she had worn in her dusky hair--
+          A paper rose.
+
+    A crumpled thing that seemed beautiful
+      To lonely, broken men,
+    Hinting of fairer flowers and things
+          Beyond our ken.
+
+    We thought of her as we closed her door
+      As somebody's little child;
+    As somebody's darling, lost, long lost,
+          But undefiled.
+
+           *       *       *       *       *
+
+    The grey above us, the white beneath;
+      Chill silence everywhere;
+    Yet deep in our hearts we knew that God
+          Was also there.
+
+    We knew, far better than others know
+      Whose ways are bright and glad,
+    His judgments are very merciful
+          On good and bad.
+
+    Our little sister was now at peace.
+      The snow began to fall.
+    The flakes soon hid that gift of ours
+          Beneath their pall.
+
+    Under the white, white flakes the rose,
+      Crumpled, tawdry and red;
+    Hinting the pity which all men need
+          When they are dead.
+
+           *       *       *       *       *
+
+    The dogs still whined as they dragged the sled
+      To where the spruces dream;
+    And there we left her, a wayward child,
+          At rest in Him.
+
+
+
+
+_Two Quests_
+
+
+    Every day I watch men go
+      Up the trail
+    Seeking gold. It is a show
+    Worth the watching; much I know
+          About the game.
+
+    In the dead of night they creep
+      Past my door;
+    But I hear them in my sleep,
+    And I pity. Very steep
+          The road to Fame.
+
+
+
+
+_The Return of the Sun_
+
+
+    Winter is passing. The inconstant sun--
+    Neglectful lover, therefore doubly dear--
+    Kisses the stern, white faces of the hills,
+    Melting their hearts to tenderness again;
+    Kisses the earth, still shiv'ring 'neath its shroud,
+    And whispers it of blossoms to be born.
+    Kisses the boughs and lures the fresh young leaves,
+    Spring's verdant heralds, from their hiding place;
+    Kisses the trees and tells them of bright birds
+    Seeking new homes for merry families.
+
+    Winter is passing. The inconstant sun--
+    Neglectful lover, therefore doubly dear--
+    Enters the hearts of long despondent men,
+    Bidding them smile and be consoled again;
+    Enters their souls and whispers them of God,
+    Of distant homes and friends that pray for them;
+    Enters our cabins and dispels the gloom
+    Of soundless days and never-ending nights;
+    Enters our eyes and bids us rise and see
+    Winter's interment, mourn'd by laughing Spring.
+
+
+
+
+_Klondyke Roses_
+
+
+    When melts at last the lingering snow
+      In sunny days of May or June,
+    Amid the velvet mosses grow
+        Shy roses, fragrant-smelling.
+    A fated sisterhood is theirs,
+      They sigh their souls out wistfully;
+    No bee makes love to them or hears
+        Their tender love a-telling.
+
+    They dream, perhaps, of distant lands,
+      (O lands, that seem as far-off spheres;)
+    Of love-lit eyes and tender hands
+        That pluck far happier roses.
+    But while they dream the days pass by
+      And August comes with ebon nights,
+    And sombre is September's sky--
+        And then their sad life closes.
+
+
+
+
+_A Song for the Return of Birds_
+
+
+    Haste, little songsters, and return
+      To your nests in the silent wood;
+    The birches are lonely and they yearn
+      For your twittering brotherhood.
+    The leaves are green on the wakened trees
+      And the snow has left the moss;
+          The sighing breeze
+          With its symphonies
+      Suggests our greatest loss--
+    Haste, little birds, haste home!
+
+    Haste little songsters, for the Spring
+      Has come with her laughing train
+    Of radiant blossoms; and now the King
+      Is here, and the pattering rain.
+    The nights are warm and the days are long,
+      There is no more ice or frost;
+          And oh! we long
+          For a songbird's song,
+      For a music the woods have lost--
+    Haste, little birds, haste home!
+
+
+
+
+_The Forest Cotillion_
+
+
+    When the wind is joyous-hearted it stirs the graceful spruces,
+    And they nod at one another and toss their arms in abandon;
+    Then they sway their supple bodies in wonderful undulations,
+    Keeping a perfect time with the wind's mysterious music.
+
+    Then the watchmen of the forest, the solemn and silent birches,
+    Bend stiffly their stately heads, saluting their laughing sisters;
+    And the alders wake from slumber, and the willows grieve no longer
+    When the wild wind woos the stream and sets the trees a-dancing.
+
+
+
+
+_The Spruces of the Forest_
+
+
+    Unhappy trees, beneath whose graceful branches
+      No lovers walk, no children ever play;
+    Who never hear the sound of girlish laughter,
+      But pass in gloom your silent lives away;
+    I wonder if ye heed me as I press
+    My heart to yours in utter loneliness.
+
+    I wonder if ye see me as I wander
+      Along the trail no feet but mine e'er tread;
+    I wonder if ye hear me when I murmur
+      The name of one who might as well be dead
+    So far away, so very far is she--
+    I wonder if ye heed and pity me?
+
+
+
+
+_The Wild Lover_
+
+
+    Sway your lithe arms, ye graceful trees,
+      The wind is out a-wooing!
+    Ye may be many, yet he sees
+      A way to your undoing.
+
+          Ye need not fear,
+          Though birds may hear
+              Your whispers or your sighs;
+          Or tell the night
+          Of your delight--
+              Nay, Nay, the birds are wise.
+
+    Your vestiture of maiden green
+      Doth very well adorn ye;
+    The wind will deem each one a queen,
+      And woo. He dare not scorn ye!
+
+
+
+
+
+
+_Homeward Bound_
+
+
+    I have ventured on many a journey,
+        By land and sea;
+    And whether success or failure
+        Was granted me,
+    It mattered but very little--
+    It is good to be Homeward Bound.
+
+    When thou bravest the final voyage,
+        And thou must steer
+    Across the mysterious ocean,
+        Friend, have no fear;
+    There is only one port for the sailors
+    When once they are Homeward Bound!
+
+
+
+
+_Approaching Night_
+
+
+    The lower'd skies are grey; the trees are bare.
+      A week ago they gleam'd in splendid rows
+    Of gold and crimson; now in gaunt despair
+      They stand like ghosts above new-fallen snows.
+
+    The world seems even greyer than the skies.
+      'Twas yesterday the homeward-honking geese
+    Fled as from death. They know too well what lies
+      Behind this sinister, foreboding peace!
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's Out of the North, by Howard V. Sutherland
+
+
+

passages/pg29810.txt

@@ -0,0 +1,373 @@
+
+
+
+
+
+Produced by David Edwards, Marcia Brooks and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
+file was made using scans of public domain works put online
+by Harvard University Library\'s Open Collections Program,
+Women Working 1800 - 1930)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+GIRL SCOUTS
+
+THEIR HISTORY AND PRACTICE
+
+
+"_Be Prepared_"
+
+[Illustration: Emblem]
+
+[Illustration: LESSONS IN FOOD CONSERVATION]
+
+
+GIRL SCOUTS
+Incorporated
+NATIONAL HEADQUARTERS
+189 Lexington Avenue
+_New York City_
+
+
+_Series No. 6_
+
+
+
+
+GIRL SCOUTS
+
+
+MOTTO
+"_Be Prepared_"
+
+[Illustration: Emblem]
+
+
+SLOGAN
+"_Do A Good Turn Daily_"
+
+
+PROMISE
+
+          On My Honor, I Will Try:
+    To do my duty to God and to my Country
+    To help other people at all times
+    To obey the Scout Laws
+
+
+LAWS
+
+     I A Girl Scout's Honor is to be trusted.
+    II A Girl Scout is loyal.
+   III A Girl Scout's Duty is to be useful and to help others.
+    IV A Girl Scout is a friend to all, and a sister to every
+         other Girl Scout.
+     V A Girl Scout is Courteous.
+    VI A Girl Scout is a friend to Animals.
+   VII A Girl Scout obeys Orders.
+  VIII A Girl Scout is Cheerful.
+    IX A Girl Scout is Thrifty.
+     X A Girl Scout is Clean in Thought, Word and Deed.
+
+
+
+
+GIRL SCOUTS
+
+
+_History of the American Girl Scouts._ When Sir Robert Baden-Powell
+founded the Boy Scout movement in England, it proved too attractive and
+too well adapted to youth to make it possible to limit its great
+opportunities to boys alone. The Sister organization, known in England
+as the Girl Guides, quickly followed it and won equal success.
+
+Mrs. Juliette Low, an American visitor in England, and a personal friend
+of the father of Scouting, realized the tremendous future of the
+movement for her country; and with the active and friendly co-operation
+of the Baden-Powells, she founded the Girl Guides in America, enrolling
+the first patrols in Savannah, Georgia, in March, 1912.
+
+In 1913 National Headquarters were established in Washington, D.C., and
+the name changed to Girl Scouts.
+
+In 1915 the organization was incorporated with the legal title, Girl
+Scouts, Incorporated.
+
+In 1916 National Headquarters were moved to New York and the methods and
+standards of what was plainly to be a nation-wide organization became
+established on a broad, practical basis.
+
+The first National Convention was held in 1915, and each succeeding year
+has shown a larger and more enthusiastic body of delegates and a public
+more and more interested in this steadily growing army of girls and
+young women who are learning in the happiest way to combine patriotism,
+outdoor activities of every kind, skill in every branch of domestic
+science and high standards of community service.
+
+Every side of the girl's nature is brought out and developed by
+enthusiastic captains, who join in the games and various forms of
+training and encourage team work and fair play. For the instruction of
+the captains, national camps and training schools are being established
+all over the country; and the schools and churches everywhere are
+co-operating eagerly with this great recreational movement, which they
+realize adds something to the life of the growing girl that they have
+been unable to supply.
+
+Colleges are offering fellowships in scouting as a serious course for
+would-be captains, and prominent citizens in every part of the country
+are identifying themselves with local councils in an advisory and
+helpful capacity. At the present writing, nearly 60,000 girls and more
+than 3,000 captains represent the original little troop in
+Savannah--surely a satisfying sight for our Founder and National
+President, when she realizes what a healthy sprig she has transplanted
+from the Mother Country!
+
+_Aims._ While the aims of Scouting are similar to those of the schools,
+the church and the home, its methods are less direct and success depends
+upon the attraction which the program has for the girls. Belonging to an
+organization, the uniform, such novel activities as knot-tying, hiking,
+signalling and drilling, the chance for leadership, the laws to which
+they voluntarily subscribe and the recognition of ability by the system
+of giving badges are the distinctive elements of Scouting. They succeed
+in bringing about improved health, approved standards of behavior
+towards others, a general arousing of the imagination as well as
+practical knowledge.
+
+The ideal background for the entire program is cheerful companionship in
+the open.
+
+_Standards._ The standards of the Girl Scouts are expressed in their
+Laws and Promise, their Motto and Slogan which are as follows:
+
+
+Laws
+
+     _I_ A Girl Scout's Honor is to be trusted.
+    _II_ A Girl Scout is loyal.
+   _III_ A Girl Scout's Duty is to be useful and to help others.
+    _IV_ A Girl Scout is a friend to all, and a sister to every
+           other Scout.
+     _V_ A Girl Scout is Courteous.
+    _VI_ A Girl Scout is a friend to Animals.
+   _VII_ A Girl Scout obeys Orders.
+  _VIII_ A Girl Scout is Cheerful.
+    _IX_ A Girl Scout is Thrifty.
+     _X_ A Girl Scout is Clean in Thought, Word and Deed.
+
+
+Promise
+
+          On my Honor, I Will try:
+    To do my duty to God and to my Country
+    To help other people at all times
+    To obey the Scout Laws.
+
+
+Motto
+
+"Be Prepared"
+
+
+Slogan
+
+"Do a Good Turn Daily"
+
+
+The best results are obtained by emphasizing the fact that these ways
+are the girl's own idea of the way to live, her choice. Success in
+expressing one's own ideas never fails to give satisfaction. Clever
+parents and teachers make use of this. "A Scout is cheerful" is a more
+effective method of influencing a girl, for instance, than any amount of
+advice on the subject.
+
+It seems to be more and more difficult to induce girls to learn or
+practice housework. For the average woman this is still necessary, and
+the more advanced schools have taken it up. For the girl whom neither
+the home nor the school has been able to reach, Scouting offers a most
+successful and attractive means of getting the practical information to
+the young generation. They will do for "merit badges," in other words,
+what they will not do for their mothers or teachers.
+
+An effective manner of upholding and exercising these standards, is, as
+has been abundantly proved by the great war, the uniform. Earning and
+proving worthy of it stimulates child, girl and woman alike. Uniform and
+ceremony, not overemphasized, but duly insisted upon, have a profound
+significance to the human race, and teach us to sink the individual
+interests and raise the standards of the group.
+
+_Leadership and The Patrol System._ In general a troop should not
+contain more than thirty or forty girls. Many very experienced captains
+have larger troops when they have several lieutenants to assist them.
+The troops are divided into groups, or patrols of eight and treated as
+units, each under its own responsible leader. An invaluable step in
+character building is to put responsibility on the individual. This is
+done in electing a Patrol Leader to be responsible for the control of
+her Patrol. Leaders should serve a limited time and every girl in a
+patrol should have the experience of serving some time during her
+membership. It is up to her to take hold and develop the qualities of
+each girl in her Patrol. It sounds a big order, but in practice it
+works. With a friendly rivalry established between patrols a patrol
+esprit de corps is developed and each girl in that patrol realizes that
+she is herself a responsible unit and that the honor of her group
+depends on her efficiency in playing the game. The patrol system is an
+essential feature in Scouting. When this is lost sight of and the
+attitude of a teacher is adopted, making the troop a _class_, the vital
+spirit or meaning of Scouting is missed entirely. Although a powerful
+personality always can succeed with young people, in individual
+instances, it would be impossible to get enough of these people to make
+any impression upon the thousands of girls in the organization.
+Moreover, the average child is already overloaded with things to learn.
+What nobody teaches her is how to control herself, and thus learn to
+control others and take her share of responsibility. The whole Scouting
+technique is adapted to exactly this idea and the patrol leader is the
+key note of it.
+
+_The troop whose captain is (apparently) not managing it, but whose
+girls manage themselves under the Scout laws, is the ideal troop._
+
+_The Court of Honor._ The Patrol Leaders and their "seconds" form the
+"Court of Honor," which manages the internal affairs of the troop. Its
+institution is the best guarantee for permanent vitality and success for
+the troop. It takes a great deal of minor routine work off the shoulders
+of the Scout captain, and at the same time gives to the girls a real
+responsibility and a serious outlook on the affairs of their troop. It
+was mainly due to the Patrol Leaders and to the Courts of Honor that the
+British Boy Scouts were able to carry on useful work during the war. The
+Court of Honor decides rewards and punishments, and interprets rules in
+individual instances.
+
+_Methods._ Not only should the activities be those which they are not
+getting through other channels, but they should be presented in ways
+which attract the girls. It should never be forgotten that Scouting is
+chosen by the girls because it _interests them_. Use as bait the food
+the fish likes. If you bait your hook with the kind of food that you
+yourself like, unless you happen to have a natural affinity for young
+people, it is probable that you will not catch many. If the Scouting
+program fails to interest girls, they will find something that does.
+
+The program should be varied, and never iron-clad, but adapted to fill
+the needs of the special girl. Examples: Few city girls have much chance
+to be in the country. An effort should be made to get them out on hikes,
+and week-end camping trips. Some homes and schools do not teach the
+girls such practical things as cooking, bedmaking, while some groups of
+girls have no conception of obligation to other people or any sense of
+citizenship. In each case, the wise captain attempts to discover the
+novel activity, which besides being helpful, will attract the girls. The
+wise captain does not expect girls to pay great attention to any one
+subject for very long, and does not teach or lecture. They get enough of
+that in school. The captain is rather a sort of older playfellow who
+lets the girl choose activities which interest her and she will learn
+for herself.
+
+Most of the activities will be of the nature of play. Play is always a
+means to mental and physical development. The best play leads towards
+adult forms of leadership, co-operation, entertaining, artistic
+execution and community service.
+
+Any captain who finds herself judging her troop's efficiency by the old
+fashioned system of examination marks based on a hundred per cent scale,
+shows herself out of touch not only with the Scouting spirit, but with
+the whole trend of modern education today. When the tendency of great
+universities is distinctly toward substituting psychological tests for
+examinations, when the United States Army picks its officers by such
+tests, it would be absurd for a young people's recreational movement to
+wear its members out by piling such work on captain and scout!
+
+Examinations and tests should lay weight on what can be _done_ within
+time limits and in first class form; also on the effort expended by the
+girls, and not on what can be _written or recited_. Young people love
+such tests--which relate closely to games--and they are of great
+practical value in daily life. They are the tests we meet every day.
+They interest the community to watch and experts are always ready and
+interested to judge them. But nobody is interested in examination
+papers, and school children and especially captains should not be taxed
+with more than the absolute necessity of proving a candidate's fair
+grasp of the subject.
+
+In this connection great latitude should be allowed for the captain's
+knowledge of her girls and their real ability and attitude. The girls
+are also good judges of each other. Remember that the girl with the best
+examination paper is not necessarily the best Scout.
+
+_The Council._ The Patrol System, under the captain, is the vital
+_inside_ of Scouting: in order to tie the organization closely to the
+community, the council must be well selected, strong and active. An
+ideal council should represent the best homes in the community, the
+church and the school. Some leading woman, whose acquaintance is wide,
+should most certainly be on it, in order to help the captain out with a
+list of people qualified to judge the merit badges, for instance.
+Interested women who will help in camps, hikes, sales, moving picture
+benefits, rallies are most necessary, and the captain should feel no
+hesitation in asking advice or help from her council. At least one
+member whose daughter is in the local troop should be a practical link
+between the home and the troop, but all members should make a point of
+understanding the principles and distinctive methods of Scouting and see
+that they are carried out in their locality.
+
+
+
+
+"_Be Prepared_"
+
+[Illustration: Emblem]
+
+
+Officers, National Headquarters Girl Scouts, Inc.
+
+_Honorary President_
+MRS. WOODROW WILSON
+
+_President_
+MRS. JULIETTE LOW
+
+_First Vice-President_
+MRS. ARTHUR O. CHOATE
+
+_Second Vice-President_
+MRS. HERBERT HOOVER
+
+_Treasurer_
+DUNLEVY MILBANK
+
+_Chairman, Executive Board_
+MRS. V. EVERIT MACY
+
+_Director_
+MRS. JANE DEETER RIPPIN
+
+_Executive Board_
+MRS. SELDEN BACON
+MRS. NICHOLAS F. BRADY
+MISS ELLEN M. CASSATT
+MRS. ARTHUR O. CHOATE
+MR. FRANCIS P. DODGE
+MISS EMMA R. HALL
+MRS. JULIETTE LOW
+MRS. V. EVERIT MACY
+MRS. SNOWDEN MARSHALL
+MRS. ROBERT G. MEAD
+MR. DUNLEVY MILBANK
+MISS LLEWELLYN PARSONS
+MRS. HAROLD I. PRATT
+MRS. THEODORE H. PRICE
+MRS. W. N. ROTHSCHILD
+DR. JAMES E. RUSSELL
+MRS. GEORGE W. STEVENS
+MRS. JAMES J. STORROW
+MRS. PERCY WILLIAMS
+
+[Illustration: Emblem]
+
+
+
+
+
+
+

passages/pg30297.txt

@@ -0,0 +1,396 @@
+
+
+UNIVERSITY OF KANSAS PUBLICATIONS
+
+MUSEUM OF NATURAL HISTORY
+
+Volume 14, No. 17, pp. 483-491, 2 figs.
+March 2, 1964
+
+
+Records of the Fossil Mammal
+Sinclairella, Family Apatemyidae,
+From the Chadronian and Orellan
+
+
+BY
+
+WILLIAM A. CLEMENS, JR.
+
+
+UNIVERSITY OF KANSAS
+LAWRENCE
+1964
+
+
+UNIVERSITY OF KANSAS PUBLICATIONS, MUSEUM OF NATURAL HISTORY
+
+Editors: E. Raymond Hall, Chairman, Henry S. Fitch,
+Theodore H. Eaton, Jr.
+
+Volume 14, No. 17, pp. 483-491, 2 figs.
+Published March 2, 1964
+
+UNIVERSITY OF KANSAS
+Lawrence, Kansas
+
+PRINTED BY
+HARRY (BUD) TIMBERLAKE, STATE PRINTER
+TOPEKA, KANSAS
+
+1964
+
+
+29-8587
+
+
+
+
+Records of the Fossil Mammal
+Sinclairella, Family Apatemyidae,
+From the Chadronian and Orellan
+
+BY
+
+WILLIAM A. CLEMENS, JR.
+
+
+Introduction
+
+
+The family Apatemyidae has a long geochronological range in North
+America, beginning in the Torrejonian land-mammal age, but is
+represented by a relatively small number of fossils found at a few
+localities. Two fossils of Orellan age, found in northeastern Colorado
+and described here, demonstrate that the geochronological range of the
+Apatemyidae extends into the Middle Oligocene. Isolated teeth of
+_Sinclairella dakotensis_ Jepsen, part of a sample of a Chadronian
+local fauna collected by field parties from the Webb School of
+California, are also described.
+
+     I thank Mr. Raymond M. Alf, Webb School of California,
+     Claremont, California, and Dr. Peter Robinson, University of
+     Colorado Museum, Boulder, Colorado, for permitting me to
+     describe the fossils they discovered. Also Dr. Robinson made
+     available the draft of a short paper he had prepared on the
+     tooth found in Weld County, Colorado; his work was
+     facilitated by a grant from the University of Colorado
+     Council on Research and Creative Work. I also gratefully
+     acknowledge receipt of critical data and valuable comments
+     from Drs. Edwin C. Galbreath, Glenn L. Jepsen, and Malcolm
+     C. McKenna who is currently revising the Paleocene
+     apatemyids and studying the phylogenetic relationships of
+     the family. The prefixes of catalogue numbers used in the
+     text identify fossils in the collections of the following
+     institutions: KU, Museum of Natural History, The University
+     of Kansas, Lawrence; Princeton, Princeton Museum, Princeton,
+     New Jersey; RAM-UCR, Raymond Alf Museum, Webb School of
+     California, Claremont, California (the permanent repository
+     for these specimens will be the University of California,
+     Riverside); and UCM, University of Colorado Museum, Boulder,
+     Colorado. The system of notations for teeth prescribed for
+     use here is as follows: teeth in the upper half of the
+     dentition are designated by a capital letter and a number;
+     thus M2 is the notation for the upper second molar; teeth in
+     the lower half of the dentition are designated by a
+     lower-case letter and a number; thus p2 is the notation for
+     the lower second premolar.
+
+
+
+
+Family APATEMYIDAE Matthew, 1909
+
+Genus =Sinclairella= Jepsen, 1934
+
+=Sinclairella dakotensis= Jepsen, 1934
+
+
+The type of the species, Princeton no. 13585, was discovered in
+Chadronian strata of the upper part of the Chadron Formation cropping
+out in Big Corral Draw, approximately 13 miles south-southwest of
+Scenic, in southwestern South Dakota (Jepsen, 1934, p. 291). Detailed
+descriptions of the type specimen are given in papers by Jepsen (1934)
+and Scott and Jepsen (1936). Isolated teeth of Chadronian age referable
+to _Sinclairella dakotensis_ have been discovered subsequently at a
+locality in Nebraska and fossils of Orellan age, also referable to _S.
+dakotensis_, have been collected at two localities in Colorado. The
+sample from each locality is described separately.
+
+
+Sioux County, northwestern Nebraska
+
+     _Material._--RAM-UCR nos. 381, left M1; 598, left m2; 1000,
+     right m1; 1001, right m2; 1079, right m2; 1674, right M2;
+     and 3013, left m2.
+
+     _Locality and stratigraphy._--These Chadronian fossils were
+     discovered by Raymond Alf and members of his field parties
+     in several harvester ant mounds built in exposures of the
+     Chadron Formation in Sec. 26, T 33 N, R 53 W, Sioux County,
+     Nebraska (Alf, 1962, and Hough and Alf, 1958). This is UCR
+     locality V5403. The collectors carefully considered the
+     possibility that some of the fossils found in the ant mounds
+     were collected from younger strata by the harvester ants and
+     concluded this was unlikely (Alf, personal communication).
+
+     _Description and comments._--The cusps of RAM-UCR no. 381, a
+     left M1, are sharp and the wear-facets resulting from
+     occlusion with the lower dentition are small. The paraconule
+     is a low, ill-defined cusp on the anterior margin of the
+     crown; a metaconule is not present. A smooth stylar shelf is
+     present labial to the metacone. The crown was supported by
+     three roots. There are no interradicular crests.
+
+     The crown of RAM-UCR no. 1674, a right M2, is heavily
+     abraded and many morphological details of the cusps have
+     been destroyed. Low interradicular crests linked the three
+     roots of the tooth with a low, central prominence. As was
+     the case with RAM-UCR no. 381, no significant differences
+     could be found in comparisons with illustrations of the
+     teeth preserved in Princeton no. 13585.
+
+     RAM-UCR nos. 598, 1001, 1079, and 3013 all appear to be
+     m2's. The talonids of these teeth are not elongated, their
+     trigonids have quadrilateral outlines, and the paraconids
+     are small but prominent, bladelike cusps. The trigonid of
+     RAM-UCR 1000 is elongated and the paraconid is a minute
+     cusp; the tooth closely resembles the m1 of the type of
+     _Sinclairella dakotensis_.
+
+
+Logan County, northeastern Colorado
+
+     _Material._--KU no. 11210 (fig. 1), a fragment of a left
+     maxillary containing P4 and M1-2.
+
+     _Locality and stratigraphy._--The fossil was found in the
+     center of the W-1/2, Sec. 21, T 11 N, R 53 W, Logan County,
+     Colorado, "... in the bed below _Agnotocastor_ bed, Cedar
+     Creek Member...." (Ronald H. Pine, 1958, field notes on file
+     at the University of Kansas). The bed so defined is part of
+     unit 3 in the lower division of the Cedar Creek Member, as
+     subdivided by Galbreath (1953:25) in stratigraphic section
+     XII. The fauna obtained from unit 3 is of Orellan age.
+
+[Illustration: FIG. 1. _Sinclairella dakotensis_ Jepsen, KU no. 11210,
+fragment of left maxillary with P4 and M1-2; Orellan, Logan County,
+Colorado; drawings by Mrs. Judith Hood: a, labial view; b, occlusal
+view; both approximately × 9.]
+
+     _Description and comments._--P4 of KU no. 11210 has a large
+     posterolingual cusp separated from the main cusp by a
+     distinct groove, which deepens posteriorly. The
+     posterolingual cusp is supported by the broad posterior
+     root. P4 of the type specimen of _Sinclairella dakotensis_
+     is described (Jepsen, 1934, p. 392) as having an oval
+     outline at the base of the crown, and a small,
+     posterolingual cusp. A chip of enamel is missing from the
+     posterior slope of the main cusp of the P4 of KU no. 11210.
+     The anterior slope of the main cusp is flattened, possibly
+     the result of wear, and there is no evidence of a groove
+     like that present on the P4 of the type specimen.
+
+     Only a few differences were found between the molars
+     preserved in KU no. 11210 and their counterparts in the type
+     specimen. A stylar shelf is present labial to the metacone
+     of M1 of KU no. 11210, but, unlike the type, its surface is
+     smooth and there is no evidence of cusps. Of the three small
+     stylar cusps on the stylar shelf of M2 the smallest is in
+     the position of a mesostyle. The M2 lacks a chip of enamel
+     from the lingual surface of the hypocone. Unlike the M2 of
+     Princeton no. 13585, in occlusal view the posterior margin
+     of the M2 of KU no. 11210 is convex posterior to the
+     metacone. The anterior edge of the base of the zygomatic
+     arch of KU no. 11210 was dorsal to M2. The shallow oval
+     depression in the maxillary dorsal to M1 might be the result
+     of post-mortem distortion.
+
+     The molars preserved in KU no. 11210 and their counterparts
+     in the type specimen do not appear to be significantly
+     different in size (table 1) or morphology of the cusps. The
+     only difference between the two specimens that might be of
+     classificatory significance is the difference in size of the
+     posterolingual cusp of P4. At present the range of
+     intraspecific variation in the morphology of P4 has not been
+     documented for any species of apatemyid. The evolutionary
+     trend or trends of the apatemyids (McKenna, 1960, p. 48) for
+     progressive reduction of function of p4 probably were
+     paralleled by similar trends in the evolution of the P4. If
+     so, the intraspecific variation in the morphology of P4
+     could be expected to be somewhat greater than that of the
+     upper molars, for example. The morphological difference
+     between the P4's of the type of _Sinclairella dakotensis_
+     and KU no. 11210 is not extreme and does not exceed the
+     range of intraspecific variation that could be expected for
+     this element of the dentition. The close resemblances in
+     size and morphology between the M1-2 of Princeton no. 13585
+     and KU no. 11210 also favor identification of the latter as
+     part of a member of an Orellan population of _Sinclairella
+     dakotensis_.
+
+
+Weld County, northeastern Colorado
+
+[Illustration: FIG. 2. _Sinclairella dakotensis_ Jepsen, UCM no. 21073,
+right M2; Orellan, Weld County, Colorado; drawing by Mrs. Judith Hood:
+occlusal view, approximately × 9.]
+
+     _Material._--UCM no. 20173 (fig. 2), is a right M2.
+
+     _Locality and stratigraphy._--The tooth was discovered at
+     the Mellinger locality, Sec. 17, T 11 N, R 65 W, Weld
+     County, Colorado. The Mellinger locality is in the Cedar
+     Creek Member, White River Formation, and its fauna is
+     considered to be of Orellan age (Patterson and McGrew, 1937,
+     and Galbreath, 1953).
+
+     _Description and comments._--UCM no. 21073, which is more
+     heavily abraded than KU no. 11210, shows no evidence of a
+     stylar cusp either anterolabial to the metacone or in the
+     position of a mesostyle. A small stylar cusp is present
+     anterolabial to the paracone. A notch that appears to have
+     been cut through the enamel of the posterolabial corner of
+     the crown could have received the parastylar apex of M3. A
+     similar notch is not present on the M2 of KU no. 11210 nor
+     indicated in the illustrations of the M2 of Princeton no.
+     13585. The coronal dimensions of UCM no. 21073 (table 1) do
+     not appear to differ significantly from those of the M2's of
+     KU no. 11210 and the type specimen of _Sinclairella
+     dakotensis_.
+
+
+Comments
+
+With the discovery of Orellan apatemyids the geochronological range of
+the family in North America is shown to extend from the Torrejonian
+through the Orellan land-mammal ages. The discoveries reported here
+enlarge the Oligocene record of apatemyids to include not only the type
+specimen of _Sinclairella dakotensis_, a skull and associated mandible
+from South Dakota, but also seven isolated teeth, representing at least
+two individuals, from a Chadronian fossil locality in Nebraska and one
+specimen from each of two Orellan fossil localities in northeastern
+Colorado. Simpson (1944:73, and 1953:127) presented tabulations of the
+published records of American apatemyids and suggested the data
+indicated the populations of these mammals were of small size
+throughout the history of the family. The few pre-Oligocene occurrences
+of apatemyids described subsequently (note McKenna, 1960, figs. 3-10,
+and p. 48) and occurrences described here tend to reinforce Simpson's
+interpretation. This interpretation may have to be modified to some
+degree, however, when current studies of collections of pre-Oligocene
+apatemyids are completed (McKenna, personal communication).
+
+Although information concerning the evolutionary trends of American
+apatemyids has been published, no data on the morphological variation
+in a population are available in the literature. An adequate basis for
+evaluating the significance of the morphological differences between
+the P4's of Princeton no. 13585 and KU no. 12110 coupled with the
+similarities of their M1-2's is lacking. In the evolution of American
+apatemyids the P4 underwent reduction in size and, apparently,
+curtailment of function. This history suggests the range of
+morphological variation of P4 in populations of _Sinclairella
+dakotensis_ could be expected to be greater than that of the molars and
+encompass the morphological differences between the P4's of Princeton
+no. 13585 and KU no. 12110. The difference in age of the Chadronian and
+Orellan fossils does not constitute proof that they pertain to
+different species. Although the identification is admittedly
+provisional until more fossils including other parts of the skeleton
+are discovered, the Orellan fossils described here are referred to
+_Sinclairella dakotensis_.
+
+
+TABLE 1.--MEASUREMENTS (IN MILLIMETERS) OF TEETH OF SINCLAIRELLA
+DAKOTENSIS JEPSEN.
+
+==========================================================================
+                       |     P4     |        M1        |        M2
+-----------------------+------------+------------------+------------------
+                       |length|width|length[1]|width[1]|length[1]|width[1]
+-----------------------+------+-----+---------+--------+---------+--------
+Princeton no. 13585[2] | 2.1  | 1.1 |   4.0   |  3.7   |   3.4   |  4.7
+RAM no. 381            |      |     |   4.1   |  3.5   |         |
+RAM no. 1674           |      |     |         |        |   3.4   |  4.2
+KU no. 11210           | 2.4  | 1.6 |   3.9   |  3.5   |   3.8   |  4.1+
+UCM no. 21073          |      |     |         |        |   3.6   |  4.1
+-----------------------+------+-----+---------+--------+---------+--------
+                                    |       m1         |        m2
+                                    +---------+--------+---------+--------
+                                    |  length |  width |  length | width
+                                    +---------+--------+---------+--------
+Princeton no. 13585[3]              |    3.5  |   2.4  |    3.7  |  2.8
+RAM no. 1000                        |    3.5  |   2.2  |         |
+RAM no. 598                         |         |        |    3.8  |  2.6
+RAM no. 1001                        |         |        |    3.6+ |  2.6
+RAM no. 1079                        |         |        |    4.0  |  2.8
+RAM no. 3013                        |         |        |    3.6  |  2.8
+------------------------------------+---------+--------+---------+--------
+
+[Footnote 1: Length defined as maximum dimension of the labial half of
+the crown measured parallel to a line drawn through the apices of
+paracone and metacone. Width defined as maximum coronal dimension
+measured along line perpendicular to line defined by apices of paracone
+and metacone.]
+
+[Footnote 2: Dimensions provided by Dr. Glenn L. Jepsen.]
+
+[Footnote 3: Dimensions taken from Jepsen (1934:300).]
+
+
+
+
+Literature Cited
+
+ALF, R.
+    1962. A new species of the rodent _Pipestoneomys_ from the
+          Oligocene of Nebraska. Breviora, Mus. Comp. Zool., no. 172,
+          pp. 1-7, 3 figs.
+
+GALBREATH, E. C.
+    1953. A contribution to the Tertiary geology and paleontology
+          of northeastern Colorado. Univ. Kansas Paleont. Cont.,
+          Vertebrata, art. 4, pp. 1-120, 2 pls., 26 figs.
+
+HOUGH, J., and ALF, R.
+    1958. A Chadron mammalian fauna from Nebraska. Journ. Paleon.
+          30:132-140, 4 figs.
+
+JEPSEN, G. L.
+    1934. A revision of the American Apatemyidae and the description
+          of a new genus, _Sinclairella_, from the White River
+          Oligocene of South Dakota. Proc. Amer. Philos. Soc.,
+          74:287-305, 3 pls., 4 figs.
+
+MCKENNA, M. C.
+    1960. Fossil Mammalia from the early Wasatchian Four Mile fauna,
+          Eocene of northwest Colorado. Univ. California Publ. in
+          Geol. Sci., 37:1-130, 64 figs.
+
+MATTHEW, W. D.
+    1909. The Carnivora and Insectivora of the Bridger Basin, Middle
+          Eocene. Mem. Amer. Mus. Nat. Hist., 9:289-567, pls. 42-52,
+          118 figs.
+
+PATTERSON, B. and MCGREW, P. O.
+    1937. A soricid and two erinaceids from the White River Oligocene.
+          Geol. Ser., Field Mus. Nat. Hist., 6:245-272, figs. 60-74.
+
+SCOTT, W. B. and JEPSEN, G. L.
+    1936. The mammalian fauna of the White River Oligocene--Part I.
+          Insectivora and Carnivora. Trans. Amer. Philos. Soc., n. s.,
+          28:1-153, 22 pls., 7 figs.
+
+SIMPSON, G. G.
+    1944. Tempo and mode in evolution. New York: Columbia Univ. Press,
+          xviii + 237 pp., 36 figs.
+
+    1953. The major features of evolution. New York: Columbia Univ.
+          Press, xx + 434 pp., 52 figs.
+
+_Transmitted June 24, 1963._
+
+
+
+
+
+
+

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+Produced by Emmy, Tor Martin Kristiansen and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This
+file was produced from images generously made available
+by The Internet Archive)
+
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+
+
+THE.RUBAIYAT OF.A.BACHELOR
+
+[Illustration]
+
+[Illustration: PROMISED TO PAY A WOMAN'S BILLS FOR LIFE.]
+
+
+
+
+
+THE.RUBAIYAT OF.A.BACHELOR
+
+[Illustration]
+
+BY HELEN ROWLAND
+
+DECORATIONS .... BY .... HAROLD .... SPEAKMAN
+
+          DODGE PUBLISHING COMPANY
+          NEW YORK
+
+          COPYRIGHT 1915 BY
+          DODGE PUBLISHING COMPANY
+
+          TO
+          MY HUSBAND
+          WILLIAM HILL-BRERETON
+          THIS LITTLE BOOK IS AFFECTIONATELY
+          DEDICATED
+
+          WAKE! For the Spring has scattered into flight
+          The Vows of Lent, and bids the heart be light.
+            Bring on the Roast, and take the Fish away!
+          The Season calls--and Woman's eyes are bright!
+
+          BEFORE the phantom of Pale Winter died,
+          Methought the Voice of Spring within me cried,
+            "When Hymen's rose-decked altars glow within,
+          Why nods the laggard _Bachelor_ outside?"
+
+          AND, at the Signal, I who stood before
+          In idle musing, shouted, "Say no more!
+            You know how little while we have to Love--
+          And Love's light Hand is knocking at the door!"
+
+          NOW, the New Moon reviving old desires,
+          The gallant Youth to Sentiment aspires;
+             And ere he saunters forth on conquest bent,
+          Himself, like unto Solomon, attires.
+
+[Illustration: HIS WINTER GARMENTS HUNG--WHERE, NO ONE KNOWS!]
+
+          HOW blithely through the smiling throng he goes,
+          His Winter garments hung--where, no one knows!
+            A Symphony in radiant scarfs and hose,
+          Wrought t'inspire a maiden's "Ah's!" and "Oh's!"
+
+          INTO a new Flirtation, why not knowing,
+          Nor whence, his heart with madness overflowing;
+            Then out of it--and thence, without a pause,
+          Into _another_, willy-nilly blowing.
+
+          WHAT if the conscience feel, perchance, a sting?
+          No danger waits him--save the _Wedding Ring_.
+            A Kiss is not the sin that yesterday
+          It was--for that was _Lent_, and this is _Spring_!
+
+          SOME simple ones may sigh for wealth or fame,
+          And some, for the sweet Domestic Life, and tame;
+            But ah! give me a supper, a cigar,
+          A charming Woman--and the old Love-Game!
+
+          SOME blue points on the half-shell, in a row,
+          Some iced champagne, a melting bird--and Thou
+            Beside me flirting, 'neath a picture hat--
+          Oh, single life were Paradise enow!
+
+          A COZY-CORNER tete-a-tete--what bliss!
+          A murmured word, a sigh, a stolen kiss--
+            Ah, tell me, does the Promised Paradise
+          Hold anything one-half so sweet as this?
+
+          AND yet, since I am made of common clay,
+          One charm I'd add to this divine array;
+            Lord make me _careful_, and whate'er betide,
+          Without proposing, let me slip away!
+
+          FOR, some I've known, the bravest and the best,
+          Who laughed at Love, as but an idle jest,
+            Have, one by one, walked straight into the Net,
+          Helpless, before the _Cozy Corner_ test!
+
+          THUS, oft, beside some damsel fond and fair,
+          I've sat, thrilled by the perfume of her hair,
+            And madly longed to murmur, lip-to-lip,
+          "Beloved, marry me!"--but did not dare!
+
+          FOR some I've wooed, when I felt blithe and gay,
+          Have looked _so different_, when we met next day,
+            That I have simply stopped to say, "So charmed!"
+          And shuddering, sped hurriedly away!
+
+          LOOK to the Married Men! Alas, their gains
+          Are neither here nor there, for all their pains.
+            For wedding bells are rung--and loudly rung
+          To drown the clanking of the _Marriage Chains_!
+
+          A MOMENT'S halt--a little word or two--
+          And you have done what you can ne'er undo;
+            Promised to pay a Woman's bills for life--
+          _Anchored_ yourself--and there's an end of you!
+
+          AND we, who now make merry at the gloom
+          Of those who thus have gone to meet their doom--
+            May we, ourselves, not some day follow suit,
+          Ourselves to be the Butt of jests--for whom?
+
+          INDEED, 'tis better to have loved and lost--
+          Taken the Kiss and fled, at any cost,
+            Than to have loved and married, and for aye,
+          Thereafter, by a _Woman_, to be bossed.
+
+          WITH me, along that strip of Broadway strewn
+          With lovely maids, each radiant afternoon,
+            And think, of all the thousands you behold,
+          That you can marry one--and _only one_!
+
+          BUT, if the lip I kiss, the hand I press,
+          Upon the morrow seem to charm me less,
+            Ah well, am I not still a _Bachelor_,
+          And thus, entitled to--another Guess?
+
+[Illustration: SOME FOR THE COMFORTS OF A CLUB MAY SIGH.]
+
+          SOME for the comforts of a club may sigh,
+          And some for a hermit's lonely life. Not I!
+            Give me a cozy hearthside, and a Girl
+          Always "at home" when _I_ chance by!
+
+          HER cushioned chair a spot where I may curl
+          My weary form, and rest, beyond the whirl
+            Of madd'ning cares; to rise at half-past ten,
+          And call next night--upon _another girl_!
+
+          WHY, if a man can thus, at ease, abide
+          Each evening by a different damsel's side,
+            Were't not a shame--were't not a shame, for him
+          To any _one_, forever to be tied?
+
+          AND so, the girls I've set my heart upon,
+          I've flattered, wooed a little--and anon,
+            Just as they thought to slip the fatal Noose
+          About my neck, behold--the Bird had flown!
+
+          FOR this the argument that I submit--
+          Refute it, if you can, with all your wit!
+            That Luck in Love, for such as you and I,
+          Consists in safely keeping _out_ of it!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+          THIS morn, I've quaffed at least a quart or more
+          Of water--yet am thirsty as before;
+            And that dark taste still lingers in the mouth
+          With which, last night, I reformation swore.
+
+[Illustration: SOME ANGEL, WITH A SAVING DRINK.]
+
+          YET, when some Angel, with a saving drink
+          Of iced Nepenthe comes, I shall not shrink;
+            But, having drunk of it, shall feel again
+          As good and noble as before, I think.
+
+          EACH morn some fresh repentance brings, you say?
+          Yes--but where leaves the vows of Yesterday?
+            For I shall make and break them all, again,
+          When Time hath taken _this_ Headache away.
+
+          WHAT if my conscience seem an idle joke--
+          My good resolves all disappear in smoke?
+            This thought remains--and is it not enough?--
+          _I do not wear the Matrimonial Yoke!_
+
+          NAY! There is no one waiting at the door,
+          Whene'er I wander in at half-past four,
+            No one to question, no one to accuse,
+          No one, my shocking frailty to deplore!
+
+          NO one to greet me with her tear-stained eyes,
+          No one to doubt my quaint, fantastic lies,
+            No one my foolish looks to criticize--
+          Ah, but the knots, the KNOTS in marriage-ties!
+
+          OH Friend, could you and I, somehow, conspire,
+          To grasp the Matrimonial Scheme entire,
+            Would we not shatter it to bits--and then,
+          Make of its bonds a rousing Funeral Pyre?
+
+          MYSELF, when young, did eagerly frequent
+          The weddings of my friends on Bondage bent;
+            But evermore thanked Fate, when I escaped
+          Scot-free, by that same door wherein I went.
+
+          INTO the fatal compact, why not knowing,
+          I've seen them go, nor dream where they were going;
+            Then out again, with shouts of "Westward, ho!"
+          The bitter seeds of _Alimony_ sowing!
+
+          AH well, they say that, sometimes, side by side,
+          A cat and dog may peacefully abide.
+            Perhaps--perhaps. But that is only when
+          That cat and dog are not together tied!
+
+          OFT, to some patient married man I turn,
+          The secret of his dumb content to learn,
+            But lip-to-ear, he mutters, "Fool, beware!
+          _This_ is the path, whence there is no return!"
+
+[Illustration: BUT, LIP-TO-EAR, HE MUTTERS, "FOOL, BEWARE!"]
+
+          OH, threats of Hell, and hopes of Paradise!
+          One thing is certain--when a Husband dies,
+            No wife shall greet him _there_ with "Where's" or "Why's"
+          Nor mock with laughter his most subtle lies!
+
+          NO matter whether up or down he goes,
+          He neither cares nor questions, I suppose;
+            Since Death can hold no bitterness for him,
+          Because--because--Oh well, he knows, HE KNOWS!
+
+          WOULD you the spangle of existence spend
+          In Matrimony? Slow about, my Friend!
+            A maiden's hair is more oft false than true,
+          And on the chemist may her blush depend.
+
+          A MAIDEN'S hair is more oft false than true!
+          Aye, and her Modiste is, perchance, the clue,
+            Could you but know it, to her sylph-like grace,
+          And, peradventure, to her _Figure_, too.
+
+          WHY, for this NOTHING, then, should you provoke
+          The gods, or lightly don the galling yoke
+            Of unpermitted pleasure, under pain
+          Of Alimony-until-Death, if broke?
+
+          WHY, when to-day your bills are promptly paid,
+          Assume the whims of some capricious maid,
+            Incur the debts you never did contract,
+          And yet must settle? Oh, the sorry trade!
+
+[Illustration: I SWORE--BUT WAS I SOBER WHEN I SWORE?]
+
+          TO "settle down and marry," oft of yore,
+          I swore--but was I sober when I swore?
+            And then there came another girl--and I
+          Turned gaily to the old Love-Game, once more.
+
+          AND, much as I repented things like this,
+          And fondly dreamed of sweet Domestic Bliss,
+            I sometimes wonder what a wife can give,
+          One half so thrilling as a stolen kiss!
+
+          YET, if the hair should vanish from my brow,
+          My girth, in time, to great dimensions grow--
+            If youth's sweet-scented "Buds" should pass me by,
+          Accounting me an antiquated beau--
+
+          WHY then, some winged angel, ere too late--
+          Some maiden verging onto twenty-eight--
+            Will gladly take what's left of me, I trow,
+          And, leading me to wedlock, thank her Fate!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+          ALAS, for those who may to-day prepare
+          The wedding trousseau for the morrow's wear,
+            A voice of warning cried, "There's many a slip
+          Betwixt the Altar and the Solitaire!"
+
+          INTO this pact, man glides like water flowing,
+          But _out_ of it is not such easy going;
+            For they, who once were simple, guileless things,
+          In Breach-of-Promise lore are now more knowing.
+
+[Illustration: WHAT! WOULD YOU CAST A LOVING WOMAN HENCE?]
+
+          WHAT! Would you cast a loving Woman hence?
+          Thou, Fickle One, prepare for penitence!
+            Full many a golden ducat shall you pay
+          To drown the memory of such insolence.
+
+          AND every note, that, in your cups, you write,
+          In cold black Type, perchance shall see the light;
+            While all the World, across its coffee urn,
+          Shall titter gaily at the sorry sight.
+
+          AH yes! For all the papers, which discussed
+          Your wedding plans, shall turn your cake to crust,
+            Publish your letters and your photographs,
+          And trail your Egotism in the dust!
+
+          THE Opera Queens, that men have wooed and won,
+          Have loved them for a while, and then--anon,
+            Like snow upon Broadway, with lightsome "touch,"
+          Annexed their millions, and alas, have flown!
+
+          OH look you, in the long and varied list
+          Of Millionaires thus rifled and dismissed,
+            How, rich man, after rich man, bode his hour,
+          Then went his way, to swell the golden grist.
+
+          WHAT Diva's rubies ever glow so red
+          As when some Gilded Chappie hath been bled?
+            And every diamond the Show Girl wears,
+          Dropped in her lap, when some Fool lost his head.
+
+          AND those who hung around the green-room door,
+          And those who backed the Show and paid the score,
+            Alike, to no such "Angels" have been turned,
+          As, once repentant, men feel sorry for.
+
+          OH, my Good Fellow, keep the cash, that clears
+          To-day of unpaid debts and future fears.
+            To-morrow! Why, to-morrow, you may be,
+          Yourself, with Yesterday's cast-off millionaires.
+
+          THEN, make the most of what you still may spend,
+          Ere you, too, into bankruptcy descend,
+            Bill upon bill, and under bill, to lie,
+          Sans Cash, sans Love, sans Lady--What an end!
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+          WASTE not your evenings in the vain pursuit
+          Of this or that girl. Bittersweet the fruit!
+            Better be jocund with them, one and all,
+          And loving _many_, thus your love dilute.
+
+          SOME, with vivacity have sought to charm
+          Away my fears, and still my soul's alarm;
+            To win me subtly, with a smile or sigh,
+          Or sweet appealing touch upon the arm.
+
+          OTHERS have tempted me with festive cheer,
+          And Chafing-dish Concoctions, quaint and queer;
+            With dear, domestic airs have plied their arts--
+          Yet, all their wiles were neither there nor here!
+
+          BUT when _Platonic Friendship_ they have tried,
+          Then, to the gods for Mercy, have I cried!
+            For, in the Husband-hunt, all other snares
+          Sink into Nothingness, _this_ game beside!
+
+          THERE is the Trap, from which you may not flee;
+          There is the Net, through which no man may see.
+            Some jest at "love," some talk of "chums," and then,
+          Into the Consomme, for thee and me!
+
+[Illustration: THERE IS THE TRAP, FROM WHICH YOU MAY NOT FLEE.]
+
+          WHETHER to Church, or to the Magistrate,
+          You follow, after that, 'tis all too late!
+            For, from your Pipe-dream, you, at last, shall wake,
+          A MARRIED MAN, to rail in vain at Fate!
+
+          LOVE, but the Vision of a dear desire!
+          Marriage, the Ashes, whence has fled the fire!
+            Cast into chains which you, yourself, have forged!
+          Caught, like a sheep upon a stray barbed wire!
+
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+          OH Thou, who first the Apple Tree didst shake,
+          And e'en in Eden flirted with the Snake,
+            Still, as in that first moment 'neath the Bough,
+          Dost thou, to-day, of Man a puppet make!
+
+          BUT this I know--whether the one True Mate,
+          Or just some Fluffy Thing with hook and bait,
+            Eve-like, tempt _me_--one flash of Common Sense,
+          And all her sorcery shall be too late!
+
+          THEN, let her never look for me, again;
+          For, once escaped, how many moons shall wane,
+            And wax and wane full oft, while still she looks
+          Down that same street--but ah, for ME, in vain!
+
+          YET, much as I have played the Infidel,
+          If, as the fated Pitcher to the Well,
+            _Too oft_ to Love's empyrean Font I stray,
+          To fall, at last, beneath some Siren's spell,
+
+          THEN, in your mercy, Friend, forbear to smile,
+          And with the grape my last few hours beguile,
+            Or, let me in some Caravanserie,
+          My Cynic's soul to _shackles_ reconcile.
+
+          AND when, with me, some fair, triumphant lass,
+          Up to the rose-decked Altar-Rail shall pass,
+            And, in her joyous errand, reach the spot,
+          Where we're made _One_--oh, drain a silent glass!
+                                  Tamam.
+
+[Illustration: T A M A M]
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's The Rubaiyat of a Bachelor, by Helen Rowland
+
+
+

passages/pg31755.txt

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+
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Greg Weeks, Barbara Tozier and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+    This etext was produced from Fantastic Universe, September
+    1956. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the
+    U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.
+
+
+
+
+    _John Victor Peterson lives in Jackson Heights, almost a
+    stone's throw from La Guardia Airfield. But he doesn't just
+    stand and watch the big planes roar past overhead. He has the
+    kind of brilliant technical know-how which makes what goes on
+    inside of a plane of paramount interest to him. He's
+    interested, too, in the future superduper gadgetry, as this
+    hilarious yarn attests._
+
+
+
+
+POLITICAL APPLICATION
+
+_by ... John Victor Peterson_
+
+
+    If matter transference really works--neanderthalers can pop up
+    anywhere. And that's very hard on politicians!
+
+
+Some say scientists should keep their noses out of politics. Benson
+says it's to prevent damage to their olfactory senses. Benson's a
+physicist.
+
+I've known Allan Benson for a long time. In fact I've bodyguarded him
+for years and think I understand him better than he does himself. And
+when he shook security at White Sands, my boss didn't hesitate to tell
+me that knowing Benson as I do I certainly shouldn't have let him skip
+off. Or crisp words to that effect.
+
+The pressure was on. Benson was seeking a new fuel--or a way of
+compressing a known fuel--to carry a torchship to Mars. His loss could
+mean a delay of decades. We knew he'd been close, but not _how_ close.
+
+My nickname's Monk. I've fought it, certainly, but what can you do
+when a well-wishing mother names you after a wealthy uncle and your
+birth certificate says Neander Thalberg? As early as high school some
+bright pundit noted the name's similarity to that of a certain
+prehistoric man. Unfortunately the similarity is not in name alone:
+I'm muscular, stooped, and, I must admit, not handsome hero model
+material.
+
+Well, maybe the nickname's justified, but still, Al Benson didn't have
+to give the crowning insult. And yet, if he hadn't, there probably
+wouldn't be a torchship stern-ending on Mars just about now.
+
+C. I. (Central Intelligence, that is) at the Sands figured Benson
+would head for New York. Which is why the boss sent me here. I
+registered in a hotel in the 50's and, figuring that whatever Benson
+intended to do would have spectacular results, I kept the stereo on
+News.
+
+Benson's wife hadn't yielded much info. Sure she described the clothes
+he was wearing and said he'd taken nothing else except an artist's
+case. What was in that was anybody's guess; his private lab is such a
+jumble nobody could tell what, if anything, was missing.
+
+C. I. knew his political feelings. Seems he'd been talking wild about
+the upcoming presidential election and had sworn he'd nip the
+draft-Cadigan movement in the bud. Cadigan's Mayor of New York City.
+He's anti-space. In fact, Cadigan's anti just about everything in
+science except intercontinental missiles. Strictly for defense, of
+course. Cadigan says.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+A weathercaster was making rash promises on the stereo when the potray
+dinged. The potray? I certainly wasn't expecting mail. Only C. I. knew
+where I was and they'd have closed-circuited me on visio if they
+wanted contact.
+
+The potray dinged and there was a package in it.
+
+Now matter transference I knew. It put mailmen out of business.
+There's a potray in every domicile and you can put things in it, dial
+the destination and they come out there. They come out the same size
+and weight and in the same condition as they went in, provided they
+didn't go in alive. Life loses, as many a shade of a hopeful guinea
+pig could relate.
+
+So the potray dinged and here was this package. At first glance it
+looked like one of those cereal samples manufacturers have been
+everlastingly sending through since postal rates dropped after cost of
+the potrays had been amortized. But cereal samples don't come through
+at midday; they're night traffic stuff.
+
+The package was light, its wrapping curiously smooth. There was an
+envelope attached with my correct name and potray number. Whoever had
+mailed it must be in C. I. or must know someone in C. I. who knew
+where I was.
+
+The postmark was blurred but I could make out that it had been cast
+from Grand Central. Time didn't matter. It couldn't have been cast
+more than a microsecond earlier.
+
+The envelope contained a card upon which was typed:
+
+"Caution! Site on cylinder of 2 ft. radius and 6 ft. height. Unwrap at
+armslength."
+
+Now what? A practical joke? If so, it must be Benson's work. He's
+played plenty, from pumping hydrogen sulphide (that's rotten egg gas,
+as you know) into the air-conditioning system at high school to
+calling a gynecologist to the launching stage at the Sands to sever an
+umbilical cord which he neglected to say was on a Viking rocket.
+
+I followed the instructions. As I bent back the first fold of the
+strange wrapping it came alive, unfolding itself with incredible
+swiftness.
+
+Something burst forth like a freed djinn--almost instantaneously
+lengthening, spreading--a thing with beetling brows, low, broad
+forehead, prognathous jaw, and a hunched, brutally muscular body, with
+a great club over its swollen shoulder.
+
+I went precipitously backward over a coffee table.
+
+It stabilized, a dead mockery, replica of a Neanderthal.
+
+A placard hung on its chest. I read this:
+
+"Even some of the early huntsmen weren't successful. Abandon the
+chase, Monk. I've things to do and this--your blood brother, no
+doubt--couldn't catch me any more than you can!"
+
+Which positively infuriated me.
+
+Do you blame me?
+
+A few cussing, cussed minutes later I realized what Al Benson had
+apparently done: solved the torchship's fuel problem.
+
+Oh, I'd seen Klein bottles and Mobius strips and other things that
+twist in on themselves and into other dimensions, twisting into
+microcosms and macrocosms--into elsewhere, in any event. And here I
+had visual evidence that Benson had had something nearly six feet tall
+and certainly two feet in breadth enclosed in a nearly weightless
+carton less than eight inches on the side!
+
+Sufficient fuel for a Marstrip? Just wrap it up!
+
+The stereo's audio was saying: "... from the Museum of Natural
+History. Curators are compiling a list of the missing exhibits which
+we will reveal to you on this channel as soon as it's available. Now
+we switch to Dick Joy at City Hall with news of the latest exhibit
+found. Come in, Dick!"
+
+On the steps of City Hall was a full size replica of a mastodon over
+whose massive back was draped a banner bearing the slogan: "The
+Universal Party is for you! Don't return to prehistory with Cadigan!
+Re-elect President Ollie James and go to the stars!"
+
+And there was a closeup of Mayor Cadigan standing pompous and
+wrathful--and looking very diminutive--behind the emblem of his
+opposition party.
+
+Dick Joy was saying, "Eyewitnesses claim that this replica--obviously
+one of the items stolen from the Museum of Natural History--suddenly
+materialized here. Immediately prior to the alleged materialization a
+man--whose photograph we show now--ostensibly bent down to tie a
+shoelace, setting a shoebox beside him. He left the box, walking off
+into the gathering crowd, and this mastodon _seemed_ to spring into
+being where the shoebox had been.
+
+"The mastodon replica has been examined. A report just handed me says
+it is definitely that from the Museum and that it could not
+conceivably have been contained in a shoebox. It's obviously a case of
+mass hypnotism. The replica must have been trucked here. There's no
+other possible explanation. Excuse me!"
+
+Dick Joy turned away, then back.
+
+"I have just been handed a notice that Mayor Cadigan wishes to say a
+few words and I hereby introduce him, His Honor the Mayor, Joseph F.
+Cadigan!"
+
+His balding, fragmentarily curly-haired Honor glared.
+
+"Friends," he said chokingly, "whatever madman is responsible for this
+outrageous act will not go unpunished. I call upon the City's Finest
+to track him down and bring him to justice.
+
+"I am for justice, for equality and peace. I--"
+
+His Honor was apparently determined to use all the time he could.
+Being a newscast, it was for free.
+
+I killed the stereo. And the visio rang. It was Phil Pollini, the C.
+I. Chief.
+
+"Monk," he said, "guess you've seen the stereo. Al's out to fix the
+Mayor's wagon."
+
+"Say that again," I said, having a brainstorm.
+
+"Now, look--" he started.
+
+"Maybe you've got something there, Chief," I cut in. "Cadigan's got
+the superduper of all wagons--a seven passenger luxury limousine with
+bulletproof glass, stereo, a bar, venetian blinds and heaven knows
+what else. Hot and cold running androids, maybe. He prowls the
+elevated highways with an 'In Conference' sign flashing over the
+windshield. So's he can't be wire-tapped or miked, I guess. It'd be a
+natch for Al Benson to go for."
+
+Pollini grinned.
+
+"So if you were Benson what'd you do to fix the Mayor's wagon?"
+
+"Hitch it to a star," I said, "and the closest spot to a star would be
+the observation platform of the Greater Empire State."
+
+"You're probably right," the Chief said. "Get going!"
+
+I got.
+
+Ten minutes later I walked out onto the observation platform on the
+150th floor of the Greater Empire State Building--and found an
+incredulous crowd gathered around the mayor's limousine. I felt good.
+I'd predicted.
+
+I asked a guard, "How'd it get here?"
+
+His eyebrows were threatening a back somersault.
+
+"Don't know," he said. "I was looking over the side; then turned
+around and here it was! You have any ideas?"
+
+Which is when I spotted Al Benson.
+
+I settled for shoving Benson toward the elevator, being careful since
+he had a box under each arm. We made the elevator and went down and it
+stopped on the 120th floor and the operator said, "Change here for all
+lower floors and the street--"
+
+As we waited on the 120th for the down elevator, the P. A. system
+barked:
+
+"Attention all building occupants. By order of the Mayor no one will
+be permitted to leave the building until further notice. Please remain
+where you are. We will try not to inconvenience you for any great
+time."
+
+There was no one close to us.
+
+"Al," I said, "look, stinker, you've had your fun but this is it. I
+don't know what you've got in those boxes but you've got to turn them
+over--and yourself--to the next copper who shows. This is a civil
+matter, strictly local, and not C. I."
+
+Benson grinned. "Got to make a delivery first, Monk. Look, there's a
+potray over there. Can I use it?"
+
+His grin was infectious. "So what are you going to send where?" I
+asked as sternly as I could.
+
+"The Mayor's personal files," he said. "I managed to carry them out of
+City Hall--once they'd been suitably wrapped, of course! I'm sending
+them to the Senate Investigation Committee. Don't worry, Monk, His
+Honor won't be President this or any year!"
+
+I helped him dial the SIC number.
+
+"What about the other package?" I asked him then.
+
+"Insurance," he said. "Come out on the setback."
+
+He placed the last package on the mosaic tile of the terrace, untied
+its string, flipped open the edge of the Benson wrapping and jumped
+back.
+
+It was an NYC police helicopter.
+
+We potrayed it back from the Sands. Suitably wrapped, of course.
+
+That was a month ago. Most of it never came out in the papers. Nothing
+of Benson's invention. C. I. thought it should be squelched, at least
+until Benson and the boys get back from Mars.
+
+Which would be the end except for the packages. Yes, Benson left a
+gross of them with me and I've been mailing them one a day to the
+leaders of the opposition party. I don't truly know what's in them, of
+course. But it's very curious that the day before the torchship left
+exactly one hundred and forty-four cylinders of hydrogen sulphide were
+missing from quartermaster stores. Coincidentally one of my C. I.
+friends tells me Benson had him rig up a gross of automatic releases
+for gas cylinders.
+
+Adding it up, it could be a good lesson for politicians to keep their
+noses out of science.
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's Political Application, by John Victor Peterson
+
+
+

passages/pg31833.txt

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+
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Robert Cicconetti, Alexander Bauer and the
+Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+  [ Transcriber's Note:
+
+  This e-text was produced from the September 1960 issue of If.
+  Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S.
+  copyright on this publication was renewed.
+
+  Every effort has been made to replicate this text as faithfully
+  as possible.
+
+  Text that was _italic_ in the original is marked with _.]
+
+
+
+
+                             The Wedge
+
+      Finding his way out of this maze was only half the job.
+
+                           By H. B. FYFE
+
+                           [Illustration]
+
+
+When the concealed gong sounded, the man sitting on the floor sighed. He
+continued, however, to slump loosely against the curving, pearly plastic
+of the wall, and took care not to glance toward the translucent ovals he
+knew to be observation panels.
+
+He was a large man, but thin and bony-faced. His dirty gray coverall
+bore the name "Barnsley" upon grimy white tape over the heart. Except at
+the shoulders, it looked too big for him. His hair was dark brown, but
+the sandy ginger of his two-week beard seemed a better match for his
+blue eyes.
+
+Finally, he satisfied the softly insistent gong by standing up and
+gazing in turn at each of the three doors spaced around the cylindrical
+chamber. He deliberately adopted an expression of simple-minded
+anticipation as he ambled over to the nearest one.
+
+The door was round, about four feet in diameter, and set in a flattened
+part of the wall with its lower edge tangent with the floor. Rods about
+two inches thick projected a hand's breadth at four, eight, and twelve
+o'clock. The markings around them suggested that each could be rotated
+to three different positions. Barnsley squatted on his heels to study
+these.
+
+Noting that all the rods were set at the position he had learned to
+think of as "one," he reached out to touch the door. It felt slightly
+warm, so he allowed his fingertips to slide over the upper handle. A
+tentative tug produced no movement of the door.
+
+"That's it, though," he mumbled quietly. "Well, now to do our little act
+with the others!"
+
+He moved to the second door, where all the rods were set at "two." Here
+he fell to manipulating the rod handles, pausing now and then to shove
+hopefully against the door. Some twenty minutes later, he tried the same
+routine at the third door.
+
+Eventually, he returned to his starting point and rotated the rods there
+at random for a few minutes. Having, apparently by accident, arranged
+them in a sequence of one-two-three, he contrived to lean against the
+door at the crucial instant. As it gave beneath his weight, he grabbed
+the two lower handles and pushed until the door rose to a horizontal
+position level with its hinged top. It settled there with a loud click.
+
+                 *       *       *       *       *
+
+Barnsley stooped to crawl through into an arched passage of the same
+pearly plastic. He straightened up and walked along for about twenty
+feet, flashing a white-toothed grin through his beard while muttering
+curses behind it. Presently, he arrived at a small, round bay, to be
+confronted by three more doors.
+
+"Bet there's a dozen of you three-eyed clods peeping at me," he growled.
+"How'd you like me to poke a boot through the panel in front of you and
+kick you blubber-balls in all directions? Do you have a page in your
+data books for that?"
+
+He forced himself to _feel_ sufficiently dull-witted to waste ten
+minutes opening one of the doors. The walls of the succeeding passage
+were greenish, and the tunnel curved gently downward to the left.
+Besides being somewhat warmer, the air exuded a faint blend of heated
+machine oil and something like ripe fish. The next time Barnsley came to
+a set of doors, he found also a black plastic cube about two feet high.
+He squatted on his heels to examine it.
+
+_I'd better look inside or they'll be disappointed_, he told himself.
+
+From the corner of his eye, he watched the movement of shadows behind
+the translucent panels in the walls. He could picture the observers
+there: blubbery bipeds with three-jointed arms and legs ending in
+clusters of stubby but flexible tentacles. Their broad, spine-crested
+heads would be thrust forward and each would have two of his three
+protruding eyes directed at Barnsley's slightest move. They had probably
+been staring at him in relays every second since picking up his scout
+ship in the neighboring star system.
+
+That is, Barnsley thought, it must have been the next system whose
+fourth planet he had been photo-mapping for the Terran Colonial Service.
+He hoped he had not been wrong about that.
+
+_Doesn't matter_, he consoled himself, _as long as the Service can trace
+me. These slobs certainly aren't friendly._
+
+He reconsidered the scanty evidence of previous contact in this volume
+of space, light-years from Terra's nearest colony. Two exploratory ships
+had disappeared. There had been a garbled, fragmentary message picked up
+by the recorders of the colony's satellite beacon, which some experts
+interpreted as a hasty warning. As far as he knew, Barnsley was the only
+Terran to reach this planet alive.
+
+To judge from his peculiar imprisonment, his captors had recovered from
+their initial dismay at encountering another intelligent race--at least
+to the extent of desiring a specimen for study. In Barnsley's opinion,
+that put him more or less ahead of the game.
+
+"They're gonna learn a lot!" he muttered, grinning vindictively.
+
+He finished worrying the cover off the black box. Inside was a plastic
+sphere of water and several varieties of food his captors probably
+considered edible. The latter ranged from a leafy stalk bearing a number
+of small pods to a crumbling mass resembling moldy cheese. Barnsley
+hesitated.
+
+"I haven't had the guts to try this one yet," he reminded himself,
+picking out what looked like a cluster of long, white roots.
+
+The roots squirmed feebly in his grasp. Barnsley returned them to the
+box instantly.
+
+Having selected, instead, a fruit that could have been a purple
+cucumber, he put it with the water container into a pocket of his
+coverall and closed the box.
+
+_Maybe they won't remember that I took the same thing once before_, he
+thought. _Oh, hell, of course they will! But why be too consistent?_
+
+He opened one of the doors and walked along a bluish passage that
+twisted to the left, chewing on the purple fruit as he went. It was
+tougher than it looked and nearly tasteless. At the next junction, he
+unscrewed the cap of the water sphere, drained it slowly, and flipped
+the empty container at one of the oval panels. A dim shadow blurred out
+of sight, as if someone had stepped hastily backward.
+
+"Why not?" growled Barnsley. "It's time they were shaken up a little!"
+
+                 *       *       *       *       *
+
+Pretending to have seen something where the container had struck the
+wall, he ran over and began to feel along the edge of the panel. When
+his fingertips encountered only the slightest of seams, he doubled his
+fists and pounded. He thought he could detect a faint scurrying on the
+other side of the wall.
+
+Barnsley laughed aloud. He raised one foot almost waist-high and drove
+the heel of his boot through the translucent observation panel. Seizing
+the splintered edges of the hole, he tugged and heaved until he had torn
+out enough of the thin wall to step through to the other side. He found
+himself entering a room not much larger than the passage behind him.
+
+To his left, there was a flicker of blue from a crack in the wall. The
+crack widened momentarily, emitting a gabble of mushy voices. The blue
+cloth was twitched away by a cluster of stubby tentacles, whereupon the
+crack closed to an almost imperceptible line. Barnsley fingered his
+beard to hide a grin and turned the other way.
+
+He stumbled into a number of low stools surmounted by spongy, spherical
+cushions. One of these he tore off for a pillow before going on. At the
+end of the little room, he sought for another crack, kicked the panel
+a bit to loosen it, and succeeded in sliding back a section of wall.
+The passage revealed was about the size of those he had been forced
+to explore during the past two weeks, but it had an unfinished,
+behind-the-scenes crudeness in appearance. Barnsley pottered along
+for about fifteen minutes, during which time the walls resounded with
+distant running and he encountered several obviously improvised
+barriers.
+
+He kicked his way through one, squeezed through an opening that had not
+been closed quite in time, restrained a wicked impulse to cross some
+wiring that must have been electrical, and at last allowed himself to be
+diverted into a passage leading back to his original cell. He amused
+himself by trying to picture the disruption he had caused to the
+honeycomb of passageways.
+
+"There!" he grinned to himself. "That should keep them from bothering me
+for a few hours. Maybe one or two of them will get in trouble over it--I
+hope!"
+
+He arranged his stolen cushion where the wall met the floor and lay
+down.
+
+A thought struck him. He sat up to examine the cushion suspiciously.
+It appeared to be an equivalent to foam rubber. He prodded and twisted
+until convinced that no wires or other unexpected objects were concealed
+inside. Not till then did he resume his relaxed position.
+
+Presently one of his hands located and pinched a tiny switch buried
+in the lobe of his left ear. Barnsley concentrated upon keeping his
+features blank as a rushing sound seemed to grow in his ear. He yawned
+casually, moving one hand from behind his head to cover his mouth.
+
+Having practiced many times before a mirror, he did not think that any
+possible watcher would have noticed how his thumb slipped briefly inside
+his mouth to give one eyetooth a slight twist.
+
+A strong humming inundated his hearing. It continued for perhaps two
+minutes, paused, and began again. Barnsley waited through two repetitions
+before he "yawned" again and sleepily rolled over to hide his face in his
+folded arms.
+
+"Did you get it all?" he murmured.
+
+"Clear as a bell," replied a tiny voice in his left ear. "Was that your
+whole day's recording?"
+
+"I guess so," said Barnsley. "To tell the truth, I lose track a bit
+after two weeks without a watch. Who's this? Sanchez?"
+
+"That's right. You seem to come in on my watch pretty nearly every
+twenty-four hours. Okay, I'll tape a slowed-down version of your blast
+for the boys in the back room. You're doing fine."
+
+                 *       *       *       *       *
+
+"Not for much longer," Barnsley told him. "When do I get out of here?"
+
+"Any day," Sanchez reassured him. "It was some job to learn an alien
+language with just your recordings and some of your educated guesses to
+go on. We've had a regular mob sweating on it night and day."
+
+"How is it coming?"
+
+"It turns out they're nothing to worry about. The fleet is close enough
+now to pick up their surface broadcasting. Believe me, your stupid act
+has them thoroughly confused. They hold debates over whether you could
+possibly be intelligent enough to belong in a spaceship."
+
+"Meanwhile, I'm slowly starving," said Barnsley.
+
+"Just hang on for a couple of days. Now that we know where they are,
+they're in for a shock. One of these mornings, they're going to hear
+voices from all over their skies, demanding to know what kind of savages
+they are to have kidnapped you--and in their own language!"
+
+Barnsley grinned into his improvised pillow as Sanchez signed off.
+Things would really work out after all. He was set for an immensely
+lucrative position; whether as ambassador, trade consultant, or colonial
+governor depended upon how well the experts bluffed the blubber-heads.
+Well, it seemed only his due for the risks he had taken.
+
+"Omigosh!" he grunted, sitting up as he pictured the horde of Terran
+Colonial experts descending upon the planet. "I'll be the only one here
+that hasn't learned to speak the language!"
+
+                                END
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+

passages/pg32227.txt

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+
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Chris Curnow and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was
+produced from images generously made available by The
+Internet Archive)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+                              THE CYNIC'S
+                           RULES OF CONDUCT
+
+
+
+
+                                  The
+                          Cynic's Rules _of_
+                                Conduct
+
+
+                                  BY
+                          CHESTER FIELD, JR.
+
+
+                             PHILADELPHIA
+                         HENRY ALTEMUS COMPANY
+
+
+
+
+                          Copyright, 1905, by
+                             Henry Altemus
+
+                      Entered at Stationers' Hall
+
+
+
+
+                              THE CYNIC'S
+                           RULES OF CONDUCT
+
+
+Go to the Aunt, thou sluggard, and offer her ten off on your legacy
+for spot cash.
+
+
+The difference between a bad break and a _faux pas_ indicates the kind
+of society you are in.
+
+
+When alone in Paris behave as if all the world were your
+mother-in-law.
+
+
+                            [Illustration]
+
+
+Remember, too, that perhaps you are not the sort of husband that
+Father used to make.
+
+
+You may refer to her cheeks as roses, but the man who sends her
+American beauties will leave you at the post.
+
+
+A woman should dress to make men covetous and women envious.
+
+
+                            [Illustration]
+
+
+Even Cupid crosses his fingers at what he hears by moonlight.
+
+
+After marriage you may speak of her temper; but during courtship you
+had better refer to it as temperament.
+
+
+When dinners entice thee consent thou not.
+
+
+                            [Illustration]
+
+
+The position of the hostess should be at the doorway of the
+drawing-room to receive her guests. The position of her husband should
+be at his office desk making the money to pay for the blow-out.
+
+
+It is safer to do business with jailbirds than with relatives.
+
+
+Discuss family scandals before the servants. We should always be kind
+to the lower classes.
+
+
+                            [Illustration]
+
+
+When children paw a visitor's gown with their candied fingers the
+proper observation for the mother to make is: "My children are so
+affectionate."
+
+
+Reprimand your servants before your guests. It shows your authority.
+
+
+The chief duty of the best man is to prevent the groom from escaping
+before the ceremony.
+
+
+                            [Illustration]
+
+
+In marching up the aisle to the altar the bride carries either a bunch
+of flowers or a prayer book. Her father carries a bunch of money or a
+cheque book.
+
+
+On returning from the altar be careful not to step on the bride's
+train. There's trouble enough ahead without that.
+
+
+Don't blow your own horn when you can get some one else to blow it for
+you.
+
+
+                            [Illustration]
+
+
+Keep your servants in good humor, if you can--but keep your servants.
+
+
+Your conduct in an elevator should be governed by circumstances.
+Should the lady's husband remove his hat keep yours on. Should he fail
+to remove it, take your hat off. This will embarrass him.
+
+
+Never put in the collection box less than ten per cent. of the amount
+you tip your waiter at luncheon.
+
+
+                            [Illustration]
+
+
+At afternoon funerals wear a frock coat and top hat. Should the
+funeral be your own, the hat may be dispensed with.
+
+
+It is never in good taste to indulge in personal pleasantries, such as
+referring to a lady's artificial teeth as her collection of
+porcelains.
+
+
+Beware of the man who never buys a gold brick. The chances are that he
+sells them.
+
+
+                            [Illustration]
+
+
+Indorse checks about two inches from the end. Don't indorse notes at
+all.
+
+
+No house should be without its guest-chamber. Besides giving one's
+home an air of hospitality, it makes an admirable store-room for
+dilapidated furniture and unspeakable pictures.
+
+
+There is only one worse break than asking a woman her age: it is
+looking incredulous when she tells it.
+
+
+                            [Illustration]
+
+
+It is not good form to rehearse your domestic difficulties in public,
+but it is mighty interesting to your auditors.
+
+
+Never leave a guest alone for a moment. Force your entertainment upon
+him even if you have to use chloroform.
+
+
+If you would have a serene old age never woo a girl who keeps a diary.
+
+
+                            [Illustration]
+
+
+When you are inclined to be haughty, remember that a cook in the
+kitchen is worth two in the employment office.
+
+
+A chef is a cook who gets a salary instead of wages.
+
+
+It is better form for a bride to take her wedding journey with the
+groom than with the coachman.
+
+
+                            [Illustration]
+
+
+Under no circumstances associate with persons who wear detachable
+cuffs. Such men are usually trying to get rich at the expense of the
+washerwoman.
+
+
+When crossing the Atlantic no gentleman will rock the boat.
+
+
+Take care of the luxuries and the necessities will take care of
+themselves.
+
+
+                            [Illustration]
+
+
+Those who live in glass houses should be polite to reporters.
+
+
+When in a hurry to get to the poor house, take the road that leads
+through the bucket shop and passes the race track.
+
+
+Condensed milk should be used in a small flat.
+
+
+                            [Illustration]
+
+
+Tell your rich relations how fast you are making money--your poor
+ones, how fast you are losing it.
+
+
+In taking soup try not to give others the impression that the plumbing
+is out of order.
+
+
+When giving a studio tea, remember that there should be soft lights
+and hard drinks.
+
+
+                            [Illustration]
+
+
+Eschew the race-track and the roulette table. Faro is a squarer game
+than either.
+
+
+Beware of indiscriminate charity. You will never get your name in the
+paper by giving a tramp the price of a meal.
+
+
+Before marriage the fashionable tint for eyeglasses is rose; after
+marriage smoked glasses should be worn.
+
+
+                            [Illustration]
+
+
+If you would make a lifelong friend of a man who lives in a hall
+bedroom, accuse him of leading a double life.
+
+
+No sportsman will shoot craps during the closed season.
+
+
+Compliments paid a woman behind her back go farthest and are
+remembered longest.
+
+
+                            [Illustration]
+
+
+Avoid having business relations with a man whose I. O. U. is not as
+good as his note; but take his note by preference.
+
+
+When playing poker, it is as bad form to wear a coat as it is to be
+shy.
+
+
+The father gives the bride away, but the small brother would like to.
+
+
+                            [Illustration]
+
+
+In the best society it is considered snobbish to wear a disguise when
+entertaining country cousins. Simply take them to places where you
+will not encounter your friends.
+
+
+At the tables of the very wealthy, brook trout have given place to
+gold fish.
+
+
+To get on in society a woman should cultivate repose--and a few
+prominent social leaders.
+
+
+                            [Illustration]
+
+
+When angry count ten before you speak. When "touched" count one
+thousand before you lend.
+
+
+In entering a crowded car, a lady should leave the door open. It is
+quite permissible for her to appropriate the seat of the man who gets
+up to close it.
+
+
+If your friend asks you to lend him your evening clothes, hide your
+toothbrush without delay.
+
+
+                            [Illustration]
+
+
+Never leave the price tag on the present, unless it is a very
+expensive present.
+
+
+At a formal dinner the hostess should see that raw oyster forks should
+be placed alongside the plates. If she hasn't any raw oyster forks she
+may use cooked ones.
+
+
+You should bear in mind that to be kind to your employees, it is not
+absolutely essential that you kiss the stenographer every morning.
+
+
+                            [Illustration]
+
+
+If you would be thought a fool, play with a loaded pistol; if a knave,
+with loaded dice.
+
+
+Let the reign of your summer girl be no longer than her bathing suit.
+
+
+It is coarse for a divorcee to refer to her ex-husband as the late Mr.
+So-and-So. She should speak of him as, "My husband once removed."
+
+
+                            [Illustration]
+
+
+Every investor should have a ward. A ward's estate is a great
+convenience in unloading financial indiscretions.
+
+
+Avoid church fairs. It hurts less to be stung by the Scoffers than by
+the Faithful.
+
+
+People who think that newspaper advertisements are not read should
+watch a man sitting in a street car where women are standing.
+
+
+                            [Illustration]
+
+
+At a formal dinner, one may serve five different wines; but no
+indifferent ones.
+
+
+When in the street with a lady, a gentleman should not light a
+cigarette unless the lady does.
+
+
+A man will let go his religion before he parts with his
+respectability.
+
+
+                            [Illustration]
+
+
+An engagement ring should not be passed around like "the buck" in a
+poker game. "New girl, new ring," is the rule in select society.
+
+
+Dresses that look as if they had set the wearer's father back more
+than $100 should always be referred to as "frocks."
+
+
+Ladies should not wear garden hose except at garden parties.
+
+
+                            [Illustration]
+
+
+Men will lose their reputations as gay deceivers when women are less
+willing to be deceived.
+
+
+When at a wedding breakfast try to remember that you will probably
+have other opportunities of drinking champagne.
+
+
+Remember that your wife's wardrobe is the Bradstreet in which women
+look for your rating.
+
+
+                            [Illustration]
+
+
+One of the joys of wealth is the right to preach the virtues of
+poverty.
+
+
+At a wedding married women cry because they've been through it and
+unmarried women for fear they won't.
+
+
+If a man's worth doing at all, he's worth doing well.
+
+
+                            [Illustration]
+
+
+When you end a letter "Please Burn This," post it in the fireplace.
+
+
+When you start out to "do" Wall Street buy a return ticket.
+
+
+Never refer to your indisposition as _mal de coeur_ when it is _mal de
+liqueur_.
+
+
+                            [Illustration]
+
+
+Cure your wife of bargain-shopping and you will have more money for
+bucket-shopping.
+
+
+Encourage your husband to go to his club. Otherwise, you will miss a
+lot of gossip that you can use in your business.
+
+
+The mother-in-law joke was invented by a bachelor. To the married man
+the mother-in-law is no joke.
+
+
+                            [Illustration]
+
+
+It is not good form for a young girl to go to the theatre with a
+gentleman, unaccompanied by a chaperone. On the other hand, it is not
+good fun for her to go to the theatre with a chaperone, unaccompanied
+by a gentleman.
+
+
+No gentleman will strut about his club with his hat on. There is no
+rule, however, against his having a jag on.
+
+
+                            [Illustration]
+
+
+When you step on a lady's toes make some offhand remark about her feet
+being too small to be seen. This is older than the cave dwellers; but
+it still works.
+
+
+When organizing a friendly poker party, don't invite friends.
+
+
+Settle an allowance on your wife and you'll always know where to
+borrow money.
+
+
+                            [Illustration]
+
+
+Strict convention decrees that if a young girl accepts from a man any
+gift more valuable than sweets, flowers or tips on the races, she
+shall not mention the fact to her mother.
+
+
+A corkscrew is not the only symbol of hospitality.
+
+
+When you catch your caller kissing the maid, remind her that the
+kitchen is the proper place to entertain her friends.
+
+
+                            [Illustration]
+
+
+Don't forget to tell her that she's "not like other girls." It always
+works, whether you spring it on the belle of the village, the girl
+with a hare lip or the bearded lady at the circus.
+
+
+Spaghetti should be eaten only in the bath-tub.
+
+
+If you _must_ have your hand held, go to a manicure.
+
+
+                            [Illustration]
+
+
+The difference between bigamy and divorce is the difference between
+driving a double hitch and driving tandem.
+
+
+Never tell secrets to women. If you must talk about them, buy a
+megaphone.
+
+
+Don't tell a girl that she looks best when wearing a veil. She may not
+understand what you mean.
+
+
+                            [Illustration]
+
+
+Take your servants into your confidence. You'll always get a lot of
+interesting information about your neighbors.
+
+
+It is a mistake to regard your linen as the leopard does his spots.
+
+
+Some girls want a home wedding; most girls want a church wedding; all
+girls want a wedding.
+
+
+                            [Illustration]
+
+
+If you use the same solitaire for the second engagement, don't refer
+to it as killing two birds with one stone.
+
+
+Cultivate cheerfulness in your household; money makes the _mere_ go.
+
+
+At Sunday night bridge parties no really nice girl will cheat.
+
+
+                            [Illustration]
+
+
+The way to save doctor's bills is not to pay them. Only a specialist
+would think of suing you.
+
+
+When you see a girl drowning, look before you leap.
+
+
+On your way to the altar, do not wear the expression of a man
+Mendelssohning into the jaws of death. Try to look as if your salary
+had just been raised.
+
+
+                            [Illustration]
+
+
+Debutantes should never attend prize fights unchaperoned.
+
+
+In paying your fare always take your time. It annoys the conductor.
+
+
+Oysters are served after cocktails, soup after oysters, game after
+decomposition sets in.
+
+
+                            [Illustration]
+
+
+When choosing a wife shut your eyes; it's a sporting chance, because
+after all your wife is choosing you.
+
+
+The man who buys a gold brick hates to feel lonesome.
+
+
+The race is not always to the swift, though the smart set thinks it
+is.
+
+
+                            [Illustration]
+
+
+When attending an afternoon tea or musicale do not forget to leave a
+card. The social standing of your hostess determines whether it shall
+be a face card or a twospot.
+
+
+Besides leaving a card, leave all the small articles of value that you
+may find lying about in the dressing room.
+
+
+It is not necessary to throw rice at a departing bride and groom. The
+cab is already full of mush.
+
+
+                            [Illustration]
+
+
+In proposing to a girl always refer to your own unworthiness. She
+won't believe it at the time nor will you a few years later.
+
+
+Sweet are the uses of adversity to the gentlemen who conduct loan
+offices.
+
+
+When matching dollars, remember that two heads are better than one.
+
+
+                            [Illustration]
+
+
+At automobile funerals, the chauffeurs should be directed to play the
+Dead March on the French tooters. The effect is very refined.
+
+
+Drug store beauty isn't even skin-deep.
+
+
+Don't enter into a gentleman's agreement, if you're a gentleman.
+
+
+                            [Illustration]
+
+
+Wild oats make poor breakfast-food.
+
+
+It is always good form to talk about nausea when caused by
+seasickness; but never otherwise.
+
+
+When your face is too full for utterance speak to her only with your
+eyes.
+
+
+                            [Illustration]
+
+
+Show kindness to your creditors, but not unremitting kindness.
+
+
+Suspect the man who wants only a small loan; a little touch is a
+dangerous thing.
+
+
+Don't marry for money; but never let money stand between a girl and
+her happiness.
+
+
+                            [Illustration]
+
+
+"Conservative dressers," as the tailors call them, have discarded the
+night-cap except for internal use.
+
+
+When in Rome do the Romans.
+
+
+Don't buy for your daughter a Count that is likely to turn out a
+discount.
+
+
+                            [Illustration]
+
+
+Eat, drink and be merry, for to-morrow you may be married.
+
+
+It is not good form to congratulate a girl friend upon her engagement.
+Simply remark, "So you landed him at last."
+
+
+Pay no obvious compliments. A beautiful woman has her mirror.
+
+
+                            [Illustration]
+
+
+If you can afford the right sort of lawyer you won't need any Rules of
+Conduct.
+
+
+
+                               [THE END]
+
+
+                            [Illustration]
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's The Cynic's Rules of Conduct, by Chester Field Jr.
+
+
+

passages/pg32410.txt

@@ -0,0 +1,344 @@
+
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Sankar Viswanathan, Greg Weeks, and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+                         Transcriber's Note:
+
+    This etext was produced from IF Worlds of Science Fiction January
+    1953. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S.
+    copyright on this publication was renewed.
+
+
+                       NO SHIELD FROM THE DEAD
+
+
+                         By Gordon R. Dickson
+
+
+     _No conceivable force could penetrate Terri's shield. Yet he
+      was defenseless._
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+It was a nice little party, but a bit obvious. Terri Mac saw through
+it before he had taken half a dozen steps into the apartment. A light
+flush staining his high cheek-bones. "This is ridiculous," he said.
+
+The light chatter ceased. Cocktail glasses were set down on various
+handy tables and ledges; and all faces in the room turned toward a man
+in his late fifties who sat propped up invalid-wise on pillows in a
+chair in a corner of the room.
+
+"The Comptroller is perspicacious," said the old man, agreeably,
+waving one hand in a casual manner. "On your way, children."
+
+And the people present smiled and nodded. Quite as if it were an
+ordinary leave-taking, they pushed past Terri Mac and filed out the
+door. Even the blonde, Terri had picked up at the embassy ball and who
+had brought him here, strolled off casually, but in a decidedly less
+drunken fashion than she had exhibited earlier in the evening.
+
+"Sit down," said the old man. Terri Mac did so, gazing searchingly at
+the skinny frame and white eyebrows in an unsuccessful effort to
+connect him with something in memory. "This is ridiculous," he
+repeated.
+
+"Really?" The old man smiled benignly. "And why so?"
+
+"Why--" the situation was so obvious that Terri fumbled--a little at a
+loss for words. "Obviously you intend some form of coercion, or else
+you would have come to me along recognized channels. And any thought
+of coercion is obviously--well, ridiculous."
+
+"Why?"
+
+"Why? You senile old fool, don't you know that I'm shielded? Don't you
+know all government officials from the fifth class up wear complete
+personal shields that are not only crack-proof but contain all the
+necessary elements to support life independently within the shield
+for more than twenty hours? Don't you know that I'll be missed in two
+hours at the most and tracked down in less than sixty minutes more?
+Are you crazy?"
+
+The old man chuckled, rubbing dry hands together. He said, "I'm
+shielded too. You can't get at me. And now the room's shielded. You
+can't get out of it."
+
+Terri stared at him. The initial shock was passing. His own statements
+anent the completeness of his protection had brought back confidence,
+and his natural coolness was returning. "What do you want?" he asked,
+eyeing the other narrowly.
+
+"Pleasure of your company," said the old man. "There are some very
+strong connections between us. Yes, very strong. We must get to know
+each other personally."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+It occurred to Terri that he had misinterpreted the situation. Relief
+came, mixed with a certain amount of chagrin at the way in which he
+allowed himself to show alarm. He had looked ridiculous. He leaned
+back in the chair and allowed a note of official hauteur and annoyance
+to creep into his voice. "I see," he said. "You want something?"
+
+The old man nodded energetically.
+
+"I do. Indeed I do."
+
+"And you think you have some kind of a bargaining tool that is useful
+but might not be so if it became known to official channels."
+
+"Well--" said the old man cautiously.
+
+"Don't waste my time," interrupted Terri, harshly. "I'm not an
+ordinary politician. No man who works his way up to the fifth level of
+the government is. I didn't get to where I am today by pussy-footing
+around and I haven't the leisure to spend on people who do. Now _what_
+do you want?"
+
+The other cackled. "Now, what do you think?" he said, putting one
+finger to his nose cunningly.
+
+"You are old," Terri said. "And therefore cautious. Consequently you
+would not risk trying to force something from me, but are almost
+certainly trying to sell me something. Now what do I want? Not the
+usual things, certainly. Within my position I have all the material
+things a man could want; and within my shield I enjoy complete
+immunity. No one but the Central Bureau, itself, can crack this
+shield. And no one but they can prevent the conditioned reflex that
+stops my heart if for some reason the shield should be broached. I
+have a hold on every man beneath me that prevents him from knifing me
+in the back. There could be only one thing that I want that you could
+give me--" he leaned forward, staring into the deep-pouched eyes--"and
+that is a means of getting at the man above me. Am I right?"
+
+"No," said the old man.
+
+Terri stiffened.
+
+"No?" he echoed in angry incredulity.
+
+Their eyes locked. For a long time they held, and at last Terri looked
+away.
+
+The old man sighed--sipped noisily from a drink on the table beside
+his chair.
+
+"Wait!" said Terri. To his own surprise, his voice was eager, even a
+little timorous in its hopefulness. "Wait. I've got it. There will be
+a test. There always is a test every time a man moves up. His
+superiors watch him when he doesn't suspect it. It will be that way
+for me when I am ready for the fourth level. And you have some kind of
+advance information. You know what the test will be. Maybe you know
+the man who will administer it. You want to sell me this information."
+
+The other said nothing.
+
+"Well," Terri spread his hands openly. "I am interested. I'll buy.
+What do you want. Money? A favor? Protection?"
+
+"No."
+
+"No?" Terri shouted, starting up from his chair. "What do you mean by
+no? Can't you say anything but 'no'?" A rage possessed him. He flung
+himself forward two furious steps to stand threateningly over the aged
+figure. "You doddering idiot! Say what you want, and quickly! My two
+hours are nearly up. I'll be missed. They'll be here in a few
+minutes--the Bureau Guards. They'll crack the room shield. They'll
+rescue me. And they'll take you into custody. To be questioned. To be
+executed. At my order. Do you understand? Your life depends on me."
+
+After a little, the old man chuckled again. "Yes," he muttered, in a
+high-pitched old voice. "That's the way it'll be."
+
+Terri stared at him. "You don't seem to understand. You're going to
+die."
+
+"Oh yes," said the old man, nodding his head indulgently. "I'll die.
+But I'm an old man. I'd die anyway in a year or so--maybe in a day or
+so. But for you--for a young man like you--the up and coming young
+governmental with everything to lose--" he leered slyly at Terri.
+"Your death won't be so easy for you to take."
+
+"I die?" echoed Terri, stupefied. "But I'm not going to die. They're
+coming to _rescue_ me."
+
+"Oh, are they?" said the old man, ironically.
+
+"Of course!" said Terri. "Of course, why shouldn't they?"
+
+The old man winked one faded eye portentously.
+
+"Fine young man," he said. "Up and coming young man. Brilliant. Never
+a thought for the people he trampled on the way up the ladder. Dear
+me, no."
+
+"What do you mean?" said Terri.
+
+The old eyes, looking up suddenly, pierced him.
+
+"Do you remember Kilaren?"
+
+"K-Kilaren?"
+
+"Kilaren," recited the old man as if quoting from a newspaper. "The
+beautiful young secretary of a provincial governor whose lecherous and
+unnatural pursuit drove her to suicide. So that one day to escape the
+governor, she jumped or fell from a high window. And the people of the
+province, who had for a long time heard ugly stories and rumors,
+finally mobbed the office and lynched the governor, hanging him from
+the same window from which the girl had jumped. They said that even
+the fall had not spoiled her beauty, but that was probably false." The
+old man's words dwindled away into silence.
+
+"If so what of it?" said Terri. "What's that to do with me?"
+
+"Why, you were there. You were the governor's aide, and when the mob
+had gone home and feeling had slackened off, you stepped into the gap
+and seized up the reins of government, handling matters so skillfully
+that you were immediately promoted to an under-post at Government
+City."
+
+"What of it?"
+
+"Why it was all your doing," replied the other, in a mildly reproving
+voice, "the rumors, the stories, the mob, even the suicide. Poor
+Kilaren--a pitiful pawn in your ruthless game to eliminate the
+governor in your mad dash up the ladder."
+
+"I never touched her!" cried Terri, his voice cracking. "I swear it."
+
+"Who said you did? The type of mind that stoops to murder would never
+have gotten you this far. But you were the one who hired her, knowing
+the governor's tendencies. You were the one that gave her work that
+kept her, night after night, alone with the man. You preyed upon her
+fear of losing her job. You threw the sin in her face after she had
+committed it. You told her what she might have been, and what she was,
+and what she would be. You broke her, day after day. In the sterile
+privacy of the office you reviled her, scorned her, brought her to
+believe that she was what she was not, a creature of filth and
+dishonor. You blocked off all avenues of escape but the one that led
+through one high window. _You killed her!_"
+
+"No!"
+
+"Yes!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Terri brought his quivering hands together and clenched them in his
+lap. He stared at the old man. "Who are you?"
+
+"I was a friend of hers. We lived in the same hotel-apartment. She had
+no family. I believe you knew that when you hired her."
+
+"I see," said Terri. He drew a long, deep, shuddering breath, and
+leaned back in the chair. "So that's the story," he said, his voice
+strengthening, "I might have known it. Blackmail. There are always
+fools that want to try blackmail."
+
+"No," said the old man. "Not Blackmail, Comptroller. I want your
+life."
+
+Terri laughed shortly, contemptuously. "No knowledge that you have can
+threaten my life."
+
+"They will come," said the old man, leaning wearily back against his
+cushions. "As you said, the Bureau Guards will come; and I think I
+shall kill myself when I hear them starting to crack the shield around
+this room. They will come in and find you with a dead man. What will
+you tell them, Terri?"
+
+"Tell them? Anything I choose. They won't question _me_."
+
+"No. The guards won't. But the Bureau will. How can they raise a man
+to the fourth level when there is a two-hour mystery in his
+background? They will want to know what you were doing here."
+
+"I was kidnapped," said Terri.
+
+"By whom? Can you prove it? And why?"
+
+"I've been held a prisoner here."
+
+"By a dead man? No, no, Terri. The circumstances are suspicious. You
+walk away from the embassy under your own power. You disappear and are
+found in a shielded room with a man who has committed suicide. This
+must be explained, and in the end you will have to tell them the
+truth."
+
+"And what if I do?" said Terri, truculently.
+
+"But the truth is so fantastic, Terri. So uncheckable. I am dead, and
+I am the only one who could have supported your story. These people
+who were here when you came in are common actors. They have no idea
+why I wanted you decoyed here. These are my rooms. And there is no
+obvious connection between me and the dead Kilaren. And perhaps I will
+decide to live just long enough to denounce you as a traitor when they
+enter."
+
+Ashen-faced, Terri stared.
+
+"The Bureau will have to question you. They will clamp a block on your
+mind so that you can't operate the reflex that stops your heart. And
+they will question you over and over again, because the Bureau cannot
+afford to take chances. You will go into a private hell of your own,
+Terri Mac. You will tell the story of your own evil to that girl over
+and over again, pleading to be believed. And they will not believe
+you. And in the end they will kill you, just to be on the safe side.
+Because, you see, you _might_ have been doing something traitorous in
+these two shielded hours."
+
+Terri's head bobbed limply, like a drunken man's. He made one last
+effort. "Why?" he said. "Why do you do this? Your life. For a girl who
+was no connection to you?"
+
+The old man folded his hands.
+
+"I was a little like your governor," he said. "We all have our sins. I
+loved Kilaren and the shock of her death wrecked my health." He cocked
+his head suddenly on one side. "Listen," he said.
+
+From beyond the closed door of the room, a high-pitched humming was
+barely audible. It grew in volume, going up the scale. Terri leaped to
+his feet; and for the space of a couple of seconds, he lunged first
+this way then that, like a wild animal beating against its trap. Then,
+as if all will had at last gone out of him, he stopped in the middle
+of the room and closed his eyes. For a fraction of a moment he stood
+there, before a faint convulsion seized him and he fell.
+
+With a faint smile on his face, the old man reached out to a hidden
+switch and cut the shield about the room. Uniformed guards tumbled
+through the door, to pull up in dismay at the sight of the body on the
+floor.
+
+"I'm sorry," said the old man, "I must have turned the shield on by
+mistake. I was trying to signal someone. The Comptroller seems to have
+had a heart attack."
+
+THE END
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's No Shield from the Dead, by Gordon Rupert Dickson
+
+
+

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+
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+                              MOON GLOW
+
+                         By G. L. VANDENBURG
+
+[Transcriber Note: This etext was produced from Amazing Stories November
+1958. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S.
+copyright on this publication was renewed.]
+
+
+    _That first trip to the moon has been the subject of many stories.
+    Mr. Vandenburg has come up with as novel a twist as we've ever read._
+
+    _And it could happen._
+
+
+The Ajax XX was the first American space craft to make a successful
+landing on the moon. She had orbited the Earth's natural satellite for a
+day and a half before making history. The reason for orbiting was
+important. The Russians had been boasting for a number of years that
+they would be first. Captain Junius Robb, U.S.A.F., had orders to
+investigate before and after landing.
+
+The moon's dark side was explored, due to the unknown hazards involved,
+during the orbiting process. More thorough investigation was possible on
+the moon's familiar side. The results seemed to be incontrovertible.
+Captain Junius Robb and his crew of four were the first humans to tread
+the ashes of the long dead heavenly body. The Russians, for all their
+boasts, had never come near the place.
+
+The Ajax XX stood tall and gaunt and mighty, framed against the
+forbidding blackness of space. Captain Robb had maneuvered her down to
+the middle of an immense crater, which the crew came to nickname "the
+coliseum without seats."
+
+Robb had orders not to leave the ship. Consequently, the crew of four
+scrupulously chosen, well-integrated men split into two groups of two.
+For three days they labored at gathering specimens, conducting countless
+tests and piling up as much data as time and weight would allow. Captain
+Robb kept them well reminded of the weight problem attached to the
+return trip.
+
+Near the end of the third day Captain Robb contacted his far flung crew
+members over helmet intercom. He ordered them back to the Ajax XX for a
+briefing session.
+
+Soon the men entered the ship. They were hot, uncomfortable and
+exhausted. Once back on Earth they could testify that there was nothing
+romantic about a thirty-five-pound pressure suit.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Hamston, the rocket expert, summed it up: "With that damn bulb over his
+skull a man is helpless to remove a single bead of perspiration. He
+could easily develop into a raving maniac."
+
+Robb held his meeting in the control room. "You have eight hours to
+finish your work, gentlemen. We're blasting off at 0900."
+
+"I beg your pardon, Captain," said Kingsley, the young man in charge of
+radio operation, "but what about Washington? They haven't made contact
+yet and I thought--"
+
+"I talked with Washington an hour ago!"
+
+A modest cheer of approval went up from the crew members.
+
+"Well, why didn't you say so before!" said Anderson, the first officer.
+
+Robb explained. "It seems _their_ equipment has been haywire for two
+days, they haven't been able to get through."
+
+"How do you like that!" cracked Farnsworth, the astrogator. "We're two
+hundred and forty thousand miles off the Earth and our equipment works
+fine. They have all the comforts of Earth down at headquarters and they
+can't repair radio transmission for two days!"
+
+The men laughed.
+
+"Gentlemen," Robb continued, "every radio and TV network in the country
+was hooked up to the chief's office in Washington. I not only talked to
+General Lovett, I spoke to the whole damn country."
+
+The men could not contain their excitement. The captain received a
+verbal pelting of stored-up questions.
+
+"Did you get word to my family, Captain?" asked Kingsley.
+
+"I hope you told them we're physically sound, Captain," said Farnsworth.
+"I have a fiancee that'll never forgive me if anything happens to me--"
+
+"What's the reaction like around the country--"
+
+"Have the Russians had anything to say yet--"
+
+"Ha! I'll bet they're sore as hell--"
+
+"Do you think the army would mind if I hand in my resignation?"
+Kingsley's remark brought vigorous applause from the others.
+
+Captain Robb held up his hand for silence. "Hold on! Hold on! First of
+all, General Lovett has personally contacted relatives and told them
+we're all physically and mentally sound. Secondly, you'd better get set
+to receive the biggest damn welcome in history. The general says half
+the nation has invaded Florida for the occasion."
+
+"Tell them we're not coming back," snapped Kingsley, "until the Florida
+Tourist Bureau gives us a cut."
+
+"Kingsley, the President has declared a national holiday. We'll all be
+able to write our own ticket."
+
+"Yes," Anderson put in, "to hell with the Florida Tourist Bureau!"
+
+Captain Robb said, "We'll be so sick of parades we'll wish we'd stayed
+in this God forsaken place."
+
+"Not me," boasted Farnsworth. "I'm ready for a parade in my honor any
+old time. The sooner the better."
+
+"Oh, and about the Russians," said Captain Robb, smiling. "There's been
+nothing but a steady stream of 'no comment' out of the Kremlin since we
+landed here."
+
+"Right now," said Hamston, "it's probably high noon for every scientist
+behind the iron curtain."
+
+"I wonder how they plan to talk their way out of this one?" asked
+Farnsworth.
+
+"Gentlemen, I'd like to go on talking about the welcome we're going to
+receive, but I think we'd better take first things first. Before there
+can be a welcome we have to get back. And we still have work to do
+before we start."
+
+"What about souvenirs, Captain?" asked Farnsworth.
+
+Robb pursed his lips thoughtfully, "Yes, I guess there is a matter of
+souvenirs, isn't there."
+
+The others detected a note of disturbance in the way the captain spoke.
+
+Kingsley asked, "Is anything wrong, Captain?"
+
+Robb laughed with a noticeable lack of enthusiasm. "Nothing is wrong,
+Kingsley. The fact is we've taken on enough additional weight here to
+give us some concern on the return trip." He paused to study the faces
+of his men. They were disappointed. "But," he added emphatically, "I
+seem to remember promising something about souvenirs--and I guess a man
+can't travel five hundred thousand miles without something to show for
+it. I'll get together with Hamston and work out something. But remember
+that weight problem. First trouble we encounter on the return trip and a
+souvenir will be our number one expendable."
+
+The crew was more than happy with Robb's compromise. Robb went into a
+huddle with Hamston, the rocket expert. When he emerged he informed the
+crew that each man would be permitted one souvenir which must not exceed
+two pounds. He allowed them four hours to find whatever they wanted. The
+men got back into their pressure suits and left the ship.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Captain Junius Robb stood outside the Ajax XX. His eyes scanned the
+great circular plain that stretched for fifty miles in all directions.
+The distant jagged rises of the crater's rim resembled the lower half of
+a gigantic bear trap.
+
+The moon in all its splendor--wasn't there a song that went something
+like that?--the moon in all its splendor, or lack of it was Robb's mute
+opinion. The scientists, as usual, were right about the place. To all
+intents and purposes the moon was as dead as The Roman Empire. True they
+had found scattered vegetation; there were even two or three volcanoes
+spewing carbonic acid, but they spewed it as though it were life's last
+breath.
+
+Nothing more. The fires of the moon had given way to soft lifeless
+ashes.
+
+Robb was glad he had allowed the men to look for souvenirs. After all,
+it wasn't a hell of a lot to ask for. A man could cut press clippings
+and collect medals and frame citations; and probably these things would
+impress grandchildren someday. But it seemed that nothing would be quite
+as effective as for a man to be able to produce something tangible, an
+authentic piece of the moon itself.
+
+Captain Robb had always tried to be a humble man. He recalled an
+interview held by the three wire services a week before take-off. One of
+the reporters had asked the obvious question, "Why do you want to go to
+the moon?" He could have given all of the high sounding, aesthetic
+reasons, but instead his answer was indirect, given with a modest smile.
+"To get to the other side, I guess," he had told them.
+
+Like the chicken crossing the road, that was how simple and
+uncomplicated Robb's life had been. But now he stood, his feet spread
+apart, beside his mighty ship, a quarter of a million miles away from
+home. He was the first! And he could not fight back the feeling of pride
+and accomplishment that welled in him. The word "first" in this instance
+conjured up names like Balboa, Columbus, Peary, Magellan--and Junius
+Robb.
+
+The crew members deserved the hero's welcome they would receive. They
+could have the banquets, parades and honorary degrees. But it was Junius
+Robb who had commanded the flight. It would be Junius Robb's name for
+the history books.
+
+He wouldn't be needing any souvenirs.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Kingsley and Anderson were the first to return. They both carried small
+leather bags. Inside the ship they revealed the contents to Robb. He
+examined them carefully.
+
+Kingsley had found an uncommonly large patch of brownish vegetation. He
+had torn away a sizeable chunk and placed it in the bag. "Who knows?" he
+shrugged. "I might be able to cultivate it."
+
+"Or let it play the lead in a science fiction movie," snapped Anderson.
+
+The first officer's bag contained a piece of one of the smaller craters.
+It had no immediately discernable value. It was Anderson's intention to
+polish it up and put some kind of a metal plaque on it.
+
+Four more hours went by and there was no sign of Farnsworth or Hamston.
+Robb began to worry. He'd never forgive himself if anything happened to
+either of the two men. He waited another half hour, then ordered Kinsley
+and Anderson to put on their pressure suits and go look for the two
+missing crew members.
+
+The search was avoided as Farnsworth entered the ship dragging Hamston
+behind him.
+
+"What happened!" yelled Robb.
+
+Farnsworth began the job of getting out of his pressure suit. "I don't
+know. Hamston's sick as a dog. I checked every inch of his suit and
+couldn't find anything out of order."
+
+Robb bent over the prone rocket expert. Hamston looked up at him with
+half-opened eyes and an insipid grin on his face. He mumbled something
+about "a fine state of affairs."
+
+They removed Hamston's suit and placed his limp frame on a bunk. Robb
+examined him for forty minutes.
+
+He reached the curious conclusion that Hamston was as fit as a fiddle.
+
+The rocket expert fell asleep. Robb and the rest of the crew prepared to
+blast off.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The Ajax XX thrust itself through space, halfway back to its home
+planet.
+
+The excitement of her crew members grew with every passing second. In
+his concern over Hamston, Farnsworth had forgotten about his souvenir.
+He now opened his bag and displayed it before the others.
+
+"What is it?" asked Kingsley.
+
+"Dust!" was Farnsworth's proud reply.
+
+"What the hell you going to do with dust?"
+
+"Maybe you don't know it but this is going to be the most valuable dust
+on the face of the Earth! Do you realize what I can get for an ounce of
+this stuff?"
+
+"What's anybody want to buy dust for?"
+
+"Souvenirs, man, souvenirs!"
+
+Farnsworth asked to see what Kingsley and Anderson had picked up. The
+two men obliged. For the next hour the three men and Robb discussed the
+mementoes and their possible uses on Earth.
+
+Then Anderson said, "I sure wouldn't turn down about a gallon of good
+Kentucky whiskey right now!"
+
+Robb laughed. "We did enough sweating on the way. You wouldn't want to
+sweat out the trip back on a belly full of booze."
+
+"That may be a better idea than you think it is, Captain."
+
+The four men turned to find Hamston sitting up on his bunk.
+
+"Hamston!" Robb exclaimed, "how do you feel?"
+
+"Terrible."
+
+"What happened to you?" asked Kingsley.
+
+Hamston stared at each man individually. He took a deep breath and his
+cheeks puffed up as he let it out slowly. "Well, I guess you'd better
+know now."
+
+Robb frowned. "What do you mean?"
+
+"Farnsworth and I separated after we got about four miles from the ship.
+I thought I saw something that looked like a cave. I figured I might
+find something interesting there to take back with me. So I told
+Farnsworth I'd keep radio contact with him and off I went."
+
+"Did you find a cave?" Robb wanted to know.
+
+"No, it was just a big indentation in the wall of the crater. I threw
+some light on it and found it to be ten or fifteen feet deep." He paused
+as though not sure of what to say next.
+
+"So?"
+
+"So that's where I found my souvenir."
+
+"Well, let's see it!" said Anderson.
+
+Hamston opened his leather bag. The object he removed rendered the crew
+weak in the knees. He said, "We can have that drink, Anderson, but I
+don't think we'll enjoy it."
+
+He poured them each a shot from a half-filled bottle of Vodka.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+

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+
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+                                TAPE JOCKEY
+
+                                By Tom Leahy
+
+[Transcriber Note: This etext was produced from IF Worlds of Science
+Fiction March 1954. Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that
+the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
+
+
+[Sidenote: _Pettigill was, you might say, in tune with the world. It
+wouldn't even have been an exaggeration to say the world was in tune
+with Pettigill. Then somebody struck a sour note...._]
+
+
+The little man said, "Why, Mr. Bartle, come in. This is indeed a
+pleasure." His pinched face was lighted with an enthusiastic smile.
+
+"You know my name, so I suppose you know the _Bulletin_ sent me for a
+personality interview," the tall man who stood in the doorway said in a
+monotone as if it were a statement he had made a thousand times--which
+he had.
+
+"Oh, certainly, Mr. Bartle. I was informed by Section Secretary Andrews
+this morning. I must say, I am greatly honored by this visit, too. Oh
+heavens, here I am letting you stand in the doorway. Excuse my
+discourtesy, sir--come in, come in," the little man said, and bustled
+the bored Bartle into a great room.
+
+The walls of the room were lined by gray metal boxes that had spools of
+reproduction tape mounted on their vertical fronts--tape recorders,
+hundreds of them.
+
+"I have a rather lonely occupation, Mr. Bartle, and sometimes the common
+courtesies slip my mind. It is a rather grievous fault and I beg you to
+overlook it. It would be rather distressing to me if Section Secretary
+Andrews were to hear of it; he has a rather intolerant attitude toward
+such _faux pas_. Do you understand what I mean? Not that I'm
+dissatisfied with my superior--perish the thought, it's just that--"
+
+"Don't worry, I won't breathe a word," the tall man interrupted without
+looking at the babbling fellow shuffling along at his side. "Mr.
+Pettigill, I don't want to keep you from your work for too long, so I'll
+just get a few notes and make up the bulk of the story back at the
+paper." Bartle searched the room with his eyes. "Don't you have a chair
+in this place?"
+
+"Oh, my gracious, yes. There goes that old discourtesy again, eh?" the
+little man, Pettigill, said with a dry laugh. He scurried about the room
+like a confused squirrel until he spotted a chair behind his desk. "My
+chair. My chair for you, Mr. Bartle!" Again the dry laugh.
+
+"Thanks, Mr. Pettigill."
+
+"Arthur. Call me Arthur. Formality really isn't necessary among Mid
+Echelon, do you think? Section Secretary Andrews has often requested I
+call him Morton, but I just can't seem to bring myself to such
+informality. After all, he is Sub-Prime Echelon. It makes one
+uncomfortable, shall we say, to step out of one's class?" He stopped
+talking and the corners of his mouth dropped quickly as if he had just
+been given one minute to live. "You--you _are_ only Mid Echelon, aren't
+you? I mean, if you are Sub-Prime, I shouldn't be--"
+
+"Relax, Mr. Pettigill--'Arthur'--I _am_ Mid Echelon. And I'm only that
+because my father was a man of far more industry than I; I inherited my
+classification."
+
+"So? Well, now. Interesting--very. He must have been a great man, a
+great man, Mr. Bartle."
+
+"So I am told, Arthur. But let's get on with it," Bartle said, taking
+some scrap paper and a pencil stub from his tunic pocket. "Now, tell me
+about yourself and the Melopsych Center."
+
+"Well," the little man began with a sigh and blinked his eyes peculiarly
+as though he were mentally shuffling events and facts like a deck of
+cards. "Well, I--my life would be of little interest, but the Center is
+of the utmost importance. That's it--I am no more than a physical
+extremity that functions in accord with the vital life that courses
+through the great physique of the Center! No more--I ask no more than to
+serve the Center and in turn, my fellow citizens, whether they be Prime,
+Sub-Prime, Mid, or even Sub-Lower!"
+
+He stopped speaking, affecting a martyr-like pose. Bartle covered a
+smile with his hand.
+
+"Well, Bartle, as you know, the Center--the Melopsych Center, a
+thoroughly inadequate name for the installation I might say--is the
+point of broadcast for these many taped musical selections contrived by
+Mass Psych as a therapeutic treatment for the various Echelon levels. It
+is the Great Psychiatrist--the Father Confessor. For where can one bare
+one's soul, or soothe one's nerves and disposition frayed by a day's
+endeavor, better than in the tender yet firm embrace of music?"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Bartle was straining to follow the train of thought that was lost in the
+camouflage of Pettigill's flowery phraseology.
+
+"You see all about you these many recorders, Mr. Bartle?"
+
+Bartle nodded.
+
+"On those machines, sir, are spools of tape. Music tapes, all music. My
+heavens, every kind: classical music, jazz, western, all kinds of music.
+Some tapes are no more than a single melodious note, sustained for
+whatever length of time necessary to relax and please the Echelon level
+home it is being beamed to. Oh, I tell you, Mr. Bartle, when the last
+tape has expended itself for the day, as our service code suggests, I
+leave this great edifice with a feeling of profound pride in the fact
+that I have so served my fellow man. You share that feeling too, don't
+you Mr. Bartle?"
+
+Bartle shrugged. Pettigill paused and looked at the watch he carried on
+a long chain attached to a clasp on his tunic.
+
+"A Benz chronometer, given to me by Section Secretary Andrews on the
+completion of my twenty-five years of service. It's radio-synchronized
+with the master timepiece in Greenland. It gives me a feeling of close
+communion with my superiors, if you understand what I mean."
+
+Bartle did not. He said, "Am I keeping you from your work? If I am, I
+believe I can fill in on most of this back at the paper; we have files
+on the Center's operation."
+
+The little man hurriedly put out a hand to restrain Bartle who was
+easing out of the chair.
+
+"Not yet, Mr. Bartle," he said, suddenly much more sober. Then his
+incongruous pomposity appeared again. "My gracious, no, you aren't
+keeping me from my work. I just must start the Mid-Lower Echelon tape.
+It won't take a moment. Tonight, they receive 'Concerto For Ass's
+Jawbone.' Sounds rather ridiculous, doesn't it? Be that as it may, there
+is a certain stimulation in its rhythmic cacophony. Aboriginality--yes,
+I would say it arouses a primitive exaltation."
+
+He flicked a switch above the recorder, turned a knob, and pressed the
+starter button on the machine. The tape began winding slowly from one
+spool to another.
+
+"Is it 'casting'?" Bartle asked. "I don't hear a thing."
+
+Pettigill laughed. "My stars, no; you can't hear it. See--" He pointed
+at a needle doing a staccato dance on the meter face of the machine.
+"That tells me everything is operating properly. Mass Psych advises us
+never to listen to 'casts. The selections were designed by them for
+specific social and intellectual levels. It could cause us to experience
+a rather severe emotional disturbance."
+
+A peculiar look came over Bartle's face. "Is there ever a time when all
+the machines run at once? That is, when every Echelon home is tuned to
+the melopsych tapecasts?"
+
+Pettigill registered surprise. "Why, certainly, Mr. Bartle. Don't you
+know Amendment 34206-B specifically states that all Echelon homes must
+receive music therapy at 2300 hours every night? Of course, different
+tapes to different homes."
+
+"That's what I mean."
+
+"Haven't you been abiding by the directive, Mr. Bartle?"
+
+"I told you I owed my classification to my father's industry. I am
+definitely lax in my duties."
+
+Pettigill laughed--almost wickedly, Bartle thought.
+
+"What I'm getting at, is," Bartle continued, "what if the wrong 'casts
+were channeled into the various homes?"
+
+"I remind you, sir, I am in charge of the Center and have been for
+thirty years. Not even the slightest mistake of that nature has ever
+occurred during that time!"
+
+"That, I can believe, Pettigill," Bartle said, his voice edged with
+sarcasm. "But, hypothetically, if it were to happen, what would the
+reaction be?"
+
+The little man fidgeted with his watch chain. Then he leaned close to
+Bartle and said in a barely audible whisper, "This isn't for publication
+in your article, is it?"
+
+"You don't think the Government would allow that, do you? No, this is to
+satisfy my own curiosity."
+
+"Well, since we're both Mid Echelon--brothers, so to speak--I suppose we
+can share a secret. It will be disastrous! I firmly believe it will be
+disastrous, Mr. Bartle!" He moved closer to the tall man. "I recall a
+secret administrative directive we received here twenty years ago
+concerning just that. In essence, it stated that, though music therapy
+has its great advantages, if the pattern of performance were broken or
+altered, a definite erratic emotional reaction would develop on the part
+of the citizens! That was twenty years ago, and I shudder to think what
+might be the response now; especially if the 'cast were completely
+foreign to the recipient." He gave a little shudder to emphasize the
+horror of the occurrence. "It would make psychotics of the entire
+citizenry! That's what would happen--a nation of psychotics!"
+
+"The fellow who didn't hear the 'miscast' would be top dog, eh,
+Pettigill? He could call his shots."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Pettigill twirled the watch chain faster between a forefinger and thumb.
+"No, he'd gain nothing," he said, staring as though hypnotized by the
+whirling, gold chain. "It would take more than one _sane_ person to
+control the derelict population. Perhaps--perhaps two," he mumbled.
+"Yes, I think perhaps two could."
+
+"You and who else, Pettigill?"
+
+Pettigill stepped back and drew himself erect. "What? You actually
+entertain the idea th--" He laughed dryly. "Oh, you're pulling my leg,
+eh, Mr. Bartle."
+
+"I suppose I am."
+
+"Well, such a remark gives one a jolt, if you know what I mean. Even
+though we are speaking of a hypothetical occurrence, we must be cautious
+about such talk, Mr. Bartle. Although our government is a benevolent
+organization, it _is_ ill-disposed toward such ideas." He cleared his
+throat. "Now, is there anything else I can tell you about the Center?"
+
+Bartle arose from the chair, stuffing the scrap paper and unused pencil
+back in his pocket. "Thanks, no," he said, "I think this'll cover it. Oh
+yes, the article will appear in this Sunday's edition. Thanks,
+Pettigill, for giving me your time."
+
+"Oh, I wish to thank you, Mr. Bartle. Being featured in a _Bulletin_
+article is the ultimate to a man such as I--a man whose only wishes are
+to serve his country and his brothers."
+
+"I'm sure you're doing both with great efficiency," Bartle said as he
+apathetically shook Pettigill's hand and started toward the door.
+
+"A moment, Mr. Bartle--" the little man called.
+
+Bartle stopped and turned.
+
+"I perceive, Mr. Bartle, you are a man of exceptional ability,"
+Pettigill said and cleared his throat. "It seems a shame to waste such
+talent; it should be directed toward some definite goal. Do you
+understand what I mean? After all, we're all brothers, you know. It
+would be for my benefit as well as yours."
+
+"Sure, sure, 'brother'," Bartle snorted and left.
+
+He started for the paper office but decided to let the story go until
+morning. What the hell, he had a stock format for all such articles. The
+people were the same: selfless, heroic type, citizens working for the
+mutual good of all. Only the names were different. And yet, this
+Pettigill had disturbed him. Perhaps it was something he had said that
+Bartle could not remember.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+He walked into his warm flat and extracted the pre-cooked meal from the
+electroven. He ate with little relish, abstractly thinking of the
+foolish little cog in the governmental machine he had talked with that
+afternoon. Or was Pettigill that foolish little cog? Bartle could not
+help but feel there was something deep inside him that did not show in
+that wizened and seemingly open little face. He thought about it the
+rest of the evening.
+
+He looked at the clock on the night table--2300 hours. "Pettigill's
+Lullaby Hour," he thought. Bartle chuckled and switched off the bed
+light. He was asleep before the puffs of air had escaped from under the
+covers he pulled over himself.
+
+When the phone rang at 0300, Bartle was strangely not surprised,
+although, consciously, he was expecting no call.
+
+"Hello," he said sleepily.
+
+"Bartle? This is Pettigill." The voice _was_ Pettigill's but the
+nervous, timid, quality was gone. "I assume you did not hear the 2300
+'cast?"
+
+"You assume correctly, Pettigill. What d'you want?"
+
+"Come on over to the Center; we'll split a fifth of former Section
+Secretary Andrews' Scotch."
+
+"What the hell do you mean?"
+
+"Were you serious about that 'therapy revolution' we were talking about
+this afternoon?"
+
+"I'm always serious. So what?"
+
+"Excellent, excellent," Pettigill laughed. "I've spent thirty years just
+waiting for such a man as you! No, I'm serious, my cynical friend--what
+position would you like in the new government?"
+
+"Let's see--why don't you make my descendants real peachy happy and make
+me, say, Administrator of Civilian Relations. That sounds big and
+important."
+
+"Fine, fine! Tell me, Bartle--how are your relations with psychotics?"
+
+Bartle leaped to the floor. Instantly he recalled what Pettigill had
+said that had disturbed him. When they had been discussing the
+repercussions of a miscast, Pettigill had said, "it _will_ be
+disastrous" and not "it _would_ be disastrous." The devil had been
+planning just such a thing for God knows how long!
+
+"How many of 'em, Pettigill?" Bartle asked.
+
+"A lot, Bartle, a lot," the little man answered. "I would say 170
+million! I might even say, a nation of psychotics!" He giggled again.
+
+A smile sliced through Bartle's sallow cheeks. "My relations with them
+would be the best! Keep that Scotch handy, Pettigill. I'll be right
+over."
+
+
+
+
+
+
+

passages/pg32619.txt

@@ -0,0 +1,302 @@
+
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Greg Weeks and the Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+    Transcriber's Note:
+
+    This etext was produced from Galaxy Science Fiction May 1954.
+    Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S.
+    copyright on this publication was renewed.
+
+
+
+
+                    Back to Julie
+
+                  By RICHARD WILSON
+
+
+                Illustrated by VIDMER
+
+
+_The side-shuffle is no dance step. It's the choice between making time
+... and doing time!_
+
+
+
+
+You can't go shooting off to _that_ dimension for peanuts. I don't
+want to give you the impression that peanuts are in short supply here,
+or that our economy is in the fix of having to import them sidewise.
+What I'm trying to convey is that, if you're one of the rare ones
+functionally equipped to do the side-shuffle, you ought to be well
+paid for it--in any coin.
+
+That's what I told Krasnow. And he wasn't after peanuts. "I'll do it,"
+I said, "if you'll make it worth my while."
+
+"I'd hardly expect you to do it for nothing," he replied
+reproachfully. "How much do you want?"
+
+I told him. The amount shook him up, but only briefly.
+
+"Okay," he said grudgingly. "I suppose I'll have to give it to you.
+But the stuff had better be good."
+
+"Oh, it is," I assured him. "And you don't have to be afraid, because
+I couldn't possibly skip with the loot. I'll have to travel naked. I
+can't get there with so much as a sandal on one foot or a filling in a
+single tooth. Fortunately, my teeth are perfect."
+
+Sweat poured off Krasnow's florid face as he worked the combination of
+his office safe. His fat jowls quivered unhappily around his cigar
+while he counted out the bills. Ten per cent was cash in advance, and
+the rest went into a bank account in my name. I paid off a batch of
+bills, then stripped and did my off-to-Buffalo.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+"Honest" John Krasnow was a crooked District Attorney who wanted to be
+Governor and then President. He had the Machine, but he didn't have
+the People. And, because he needed the People, he needed me. I had
+been to this other dimension--the one on the farthest branch of the
+time-tree--and I could give him what he wanted.
+
+Krasnow found out about it after I was hauled up in front of him on a
+check-kiting charge. I'd had something of a reputation before I got
+into difficulties and, in trying to live up to the reputation, I had
+done some plain and fancy financing. Nothing that fifteen to twenty
+grand wouldn't have fixed--but while I scrounged around, trying to get
+cash, I kited a few checks. They pyramided me right into the D.A.'s
+office, where Krasnow was properly sympathetic.
+
+"How," he asked, "could a man of your standing in the scientific world
+stoop so low?" It developed into quite a lecture and, even coming from
+Krasnow, it made me feel pretty low.
+
+So I began explaining. I told him where I was born, and where I went
+to school, and where I had taken my sabbaticals--including this other
+dimension. And Krasnow believed me. I can't account for it, except
+possibly because he knew he was a crook and knew I wasn't
+one--exactly. Anyway, he believed me, and we made the deal and I did
+the side-shuffle, as agreed.
+
+The journey to that other dimension is not a pleasant one. It does
+disturbing things to the stomach, and you see everything thin and
+elongated, as if you're sitting too far to the side in a movie
+theater.
+
+I got there, however, and waited for the hiccups to subside. _Hiccupi
+laterali_, I had called them when I considered writing an article for
+the _Medical Journal_ after my first trip. With the hiccupi gone, I
+stole some clothing--which was one of the riskiest parts of the
+program--and waited for morning. I didn't have any money, of course,
+so I had to hitchhike into town.
+
+I could have stolen myself a better fit, but people aren't
+clothes-conscious in that dimension. They're more interested in what
+you are and what you can do. The driver of the car that gave me a lift
+asked, "And what is your field of endeavor?"
+
+I told him, "I am able to eliminate the long wait in ivory production
+by accelerating the growth cycle of elephants."
+
+He was deeply impressed and tipped me handsomely. I was less impressed
+with his talent for growing cobless corn, and therefore had to return
+only a small part of the sum he gave me.
+
+The world of this dimension had developed some remarkable parallels to
+Earth. I mean our Earth, which falls into what I have designated
+Timeline One Point One, since it's the Earth with which I am most
+familiar. Every other world that has a language calls itself Earth,
+too. I had to visit briefly hundreds of the lateral worlds, hovering
+over primordial swamps, limitless oceans, insect kingdoms and
+radioactive planetoids, before I found the one that was truly
+parallel.
+
+It existed in Timeline Seventeen Point Zero Eight, and it had
+refrigerators, platinum blondes, automobiles, airplanes, apple pie,
+tabloids, television, scotch and soda--just about everything we think
+makes life worthwhile. But it had its little differences, which was
+only to be expected in a timeline where the bionomics could create a
+new world each time someone changed his mind.
+
+Thus, the cobless-corn man was driving what looked to me like a
+Chevrolet, but which was a Morton in his world. He let me off near a
+downtown restaurant where, thanks to our little exchange of talent
+talk, I had enough money for breakfast. It was considered unethical to
+swap talent talk outside the limits of certain rigidly defined groups,
+so I didn't try to out-impress the waitress.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Fed, and filling my stolen clothes a bit better, I walked to the
+recorder's office and spent the rest of the morning looking up old
+documents. There was nothing there for Krasnow, as I had expected. But
+for me there was a very pretty file clerk. Talking to her, I verified
+my impression that human instincts and relationships were much the
+same in this dimension as in my own--except in the one basic respect
+that interested Krasnow, of course.
+
+The file clerk and I lunched together and then I spent the afternoon
+in the library. But I didn't find anything there, either, and then I
+had dinner with her. She said her name was Julie. I told her mine was
+Heck, for Hector, which it is. She thought this was "awfully cute" and
+we got along fine.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+Julie had a delightful apartment and a matching sense of hospitality.
+The following day, when she went to work, I stayed home and washed the
+dishes and made the bed and used the telephone.
+
+I ran up quite a bill with my long-distance calls, but I found out
+what I needed to know. I impressed a lot of people with my elephant
+story and pretended to be impressed hardly at all with what they told
+me they did--although often I was, very much.
+
+The trouble with these people is that they no longer know how to lie,
+if that can be listed as trouble. I don't think it can. Neither did
+Krasnow, obviously. He'd never have sent me off on my expensive
+side-trip if he had.
+
+Of course, Krasnow looked at it objectively. What he wanted from
+Timeline Seventeen Point Zero Eight was not for himself. It was for
+everybody else. He wanted the formula for the truth gas these people
+had developed long ago and loosed upon their world to put a stop to
+wars.
+
+They had been in a bad way, although no worse than the sort of problem
+we were up against. Their trans-ocean squabbles and power politics
+seemed to have settled into a pattern of a war or two per generation.
+Just like us. Hence, the man who invented the truth gas became a
+global hero, after a certain amount of cynicism and skepticism. All
+the doubts vanished, naturally, once the gas got to working. And so
+did war.
+
+[Illustration]
+
+You can't do much plotting and scheming if, every time you open your
+mouth to tell a lie, you stammer, sweat, turn red and gasp for breath.
+It's a dead giveaway. Nobody tries it more than once.
+
+One or two men had tried to nullify the gas or work out a local
+antidote, either as a pure research project or through power-madness.
+But, because they had had to state their purposes as soon as they
+thought of them, they were put away. Neat. Very neat.
+
+What I wanted was the formula for the truth gas. Its location wasn't
+exactly a secret in this land of complete candor, but it wasn't writ
+large on any wall for all to see, either. They kept it in their
+capital--located about where our Omaha is--on file among the Vital
+Statistics.
+
+I took a superjet out there.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+I had no trouble posing as a historian entitled to the facts. The gas
+didn't work on me, you see, because it was adjusted to the physiology
+of that timeline. There was just enough difference between us for it
+not to make me stick to the truth.
+
+"We'll write out the formula for you," I was told obligingly. "But
+you'll have to sign the usual statement."
+
+"Of course," I said. "Which one is that?"
+
+"The one that says you won't publish it, and will destroy your copy
+when it has served your research purpose, without letting anyone else
+see it."
+
+"Oh, _that_ statement," I said.
+
+I signed freely, told my elephant story and departed in an aura of
+good will.
+
+The jet got me back that same evening. Julie fixed me up a snack, and
+we discussed how pretty she was and how nice I was.
+
+I had everything Krasnow wanted now. I felt pretty good about it,
+because there was nobody else who could have done the job for him, and
+because it wasn't spying, really. Earth One Point One on the Timeline
+is world enough for Krasnow, I'm sure. Besides, dimensions don't have
+wars with one another. Too many things can go wrong.
+
+Julie was lovely and I hated to leave the next morning, but it was my
+job. I told her, "I'm afraid I have to leave town for a bit, dear, but
+I'll be back very soon. Business, you know."
+
+Being a Seventeen Point Zero Eight girl, Julie had no reason to doubt
+me. "Make it _very_ soon," she whispered, her lips close to my ear.
+
+So I came back, and now Krasnow has what he wants. He's delighted, as
+he should be. I've made up the gas for him and adjusted the formula so
+that it will work on people of our timeline. It's high-power stuff and
+a little will go a long way. I also made up an antidote for him. This
+was easy, since I could work on it without feeling any compulsion to
+tell everybody what I was doing and why.
+
+Krasnow plans to release the truth gas just before the state
+convention. He'll be nominated, of course, and after November he'll
+be Governor. With everyone else compelled to tell the truth, it should
+be a cinch for him. He's a patient man, Honest John Krasnow is, and
+he's willing to wait four years for the Presidency.
+
+I ought to be happy too. With the money Krasnow gave me, I've been
+living in the style to which I've always wanted to be accustomed. He
+has offered me a place on his staff and, somewhat superfluously, the
+use of his antidote. Naturally, the reason he was so magnanimous was
+that he doesn't want anyone else around who knows his gimmick and
+might have to tell the truth about it.
+
+But I have had enough of this dimension now--now that Krasnow has what
+I promised him. He's going to use it tomorrow. And if I know Honest
+John--and I do--not even the Presidency will be big enough for him.
+
+So I'm going back to Julie.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+There are some obvious questions in your mind, I know, such as: Why
+did I get the formula for Krasnow, knowing there was no way for him to
+prosecute me while I was in Julie's dimension? And what made me come
+back?
+
+In short--what was in it for me?
+
+Let's call it research. Krasnow is a big-time operator; I've always
+been, you might say, in the peanut end of the game. He had a great
+deal to teach me and I, I'm happy to say, was an apt pupil. You might
+speculate on what's in it for you, because, if you ask me, anybody who
+can do the side-shuffle should do it before Krasnow becomes President.
+
+However, don't go to Seventeen Point Zero Eight unless you want to
+swap one Krasnow for another. The fact is that I've learned I can be
+one in Julie's dimension. After all, their formula doesn't work on
+me--but I can assure you that it will work on you.
+
+And that elephant story I told on my last visit is, as I've indicated,
+in the peanut category. All Krasnow has is a country. I'll have a
+whole world.
+
+There's nothing like study under a master, is there?
+
+I should be back to Julie by midnight if I start now.
+
+--RICHARD WILSON
+
+
+
+
+
+
+

passages/pg32631.txt

@@ -0,0 +1,304 @@
+
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Greg Weeks, Mary Meehan and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+                           RESTRICTED TOOL
+
+                     By Malcolm B. Morehart, Jr.
+
+[Transcriber Note: This etext was produced from Imagination Stories of
+Science and Fantasy January 1953. Extensive research did not uncover any
+evidence that the U.S. copyright on this publication was renewed.]
+
+
+[Sidenote: Finders, keepers, is an unwritten law. But the gadget Clark
+accidentally found had a special set of rules governing its use by
+whom--and when!]
+
+
+Richard Clark loaded his shotgun. He glanced up the canyon, gray and
+misty under a cold dawn sky. A cotton-tail darted from a nearby bush and
+bounced away. Clark's gunsights followed in a weaving line after his
+bobbing target. Before he could draw a bead, the rabbit vanished behind
+a distant scrub oak. Clark stalked him quietly. He knew he'd bag this
+one without trouble, but any others around him would take cover at his
+first shot.
+
+His boots crunched loudly on gravel. At the sound the rabbit sprang into
+the open and zigzagged toward a thicket. Furious at his clumsiness,
+Clark blasted away with both barrels. He charged up the canyon, fumbling
+in his parka for more shells, and crashed through dank high brush into a
+shadowy clearing. A soft rustling sound quickly faded.
+
+"Well, there he goes," Clark grumbled.
+
+Something metallic glittered in a low, thorny shrub, and he bent down,
+curious. From a black cord caught in its branches dangled a silvery
+pocket flashlight. He smiled faintly as he pulled it loose. After months
+of testing and inspecting complicated electronic devices, he found
+simple gadgets amusing. He pressed a button on one end and eyed a white
+knob on the other. When it didn't light up, he stuffed it in a pocket,
+finishing reloading, and sighed, "At least I bagged something."
+
+"Quite true!" a voice shrilled behind him.
+
+Clark whirled around and gasped in astonishment. Two squat dwarfish men
+crouched at the far side of the clearing. When he swung up his 16 gauge,
+two lights flashed, and it slid out of his hands. He buckled dizzily
+with weakness and nausea, but then an invisible force jolted him upright
+and motionless. He felt rigid as stone.
+
+"Who are you?" Clark called out hoarsely.
+
+They approached, jabbering in a strange tongue. Bluish dawnlight seemed
+to tint their scrawny bare arms and legs a deeper, ghastly blue. From
+weazel-shaped heads bulged enormous dark eyes which stared at him
+unblinkingly. As they waddled closer they puffed under the weight of
+heavy belts sagging with rows of odd, translucent instruments. One
+creature wore ear-phones. The other, his bald head sunken between his
+shoulders, opened a round, moist, pink-rimmed mouth and bowed stiffly.
+
+"Forgive us, please," he piped. "My biologist friend has broken
+regulations."
+
+"Who are you?" Clark choked again.
+
+The bald one's eyes closed and his belly quivered with high, tremulous
+laughter. "Tell him, Ursi!"
+
+"Don't blame me!" the one called Ursi squeaked, then pointed a claw-like
+finger at a glowing disc in his belt. "Interference disturbed the
+scanner scope. I didn't see him until he fired!"
+
+Baldy chuckled. "He was after food, not your ugly hide. But in your
+unseemly haste to escape, you dropped a valuable tool. A very careless
+blunder. And now instead of mold specimens, you've collected a human. I
+knew this expedition would prove interesting."
+
+"We have to dispose of him!" Ursi shrieked and waved a black tube at
+Clark menacingly.
+
+"You'd kill him to recover your tool?" Baldy's nose twitched. "Remember
+we prepare separate reports for the Council. Don't expect me to aid in
+breaking the law."
+
+Ursi was painfully silent.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Baldy seemed to relish his companion's distress. "You realize, Ursi,
+you're responsible for this illegal contact? Also may I remind you that
+the Law reads in part: On pain of death, no human shall be molested,
+coerced or in any way injured by an expeditionary member's overt
+action."
+
+"Can't we bargain with him?" Ursi asked irritably.
+
+"Why, of course. Offer him our ship or your life," Baldy said.
+
+Ursi scowled. "If we take the tool and induce amnesia--"
+
+"The Law clearly prohibits that."
+
+"Let him keep it then," Ursi said angrily, rubbing a pointed blue chin.
+"I'll destroy its power principle first."
+
+Baldy sighed. "I repeat, this isn't a brainless Martian without legal
+rights. You abandoned it, a human found it. By merely picking up the
+tool, he establishes a salvage claim."
+
+"You call that law?" Ursi raged. "Stupid technicalities that settle one
+problem to raise a worse one?"
+
+"Until the Council ratifies the amendment foreseeing this contingency,"
+Baldy explained, "you must abide by the original code."
+
+"But the tool's restricted!"
+
+"Restricted for thirty solar years according to the Probability Graphs,"
+mused Baldy. "You should have thought of that."
+
+Ursi's wide glittering eyes terrified Clark. But after an agonizing
+silence, he heard Ursi whine fearfully, "We can't allow this! Can't you
+read his basic attitudes? He's suffering from the Korb power complex."
+
+Baldy shrugged. "Your misfortune, my dear Ursi."
+
+Ursi edged warily toward Clark as if he were a ferocious but chained
+beast. "Your nation is a member of the Western Alliance?"
+
+Bewildered, Clark cleared his throat. "Yes."
+
+"You have atomic weapons you intend using against your enemy--against
+the Eastern Empire?"
+
+"If they attack us," Clark muttered nervously.
+
+Ursi shot an accusing look at Baldy who frowned. "They're vicious little
+children!" Ursi ranted. "The decision placing the tool on the restricted
+list is perfectly justified. We made no effort to hinder their atomic
+researches. But in the case of this tool.... They have the ingenuity to
+combine it with atomic bombs! If he returns with it, he'll wreck a
+thousand years of human culture!"
+
+Ursi's excited words puzzled Clark who was overcoming his early shock.
+But the cylinder in his pocket was still more baffling. What was it?
+What terrible power did it control?
+
+"Spare your world suffering." Ursi warned. "Surrender it to me."
+
+Clark considered. Sheltered by their "Law," he knew he could make a free
+decision. The thing was powerful. But they claimed it was exceedingly
+dangerous, and they seemed wiser, far wiser, than men. The mysterious
+force still binding him and their hints of "restrictions" on human
+progress convinced him of that. Still, possession was nine-tenths of any
+law.... He calculated nervously.
+
+"Well?" Ursi shrilled. "Your hands are now free to move."
+
+Obediently Clark groped in his pocket. When his fingertips touched the
+cool metal, the thrill of possessing immense power overwhelmed him. He
+sputtered, "It's mine--I won't misuse it!"
+
+Baldy convulsed with laughter. Ursi jabbered fiercely, but Baldy raised
+a thin claw. He spoke softly, and Ursi's eyes brightened. Ursi nodded,
+but whatever he had agreed to still left him looking doubtful and
+uncertain.
+
+Baldy smiled warmly. "Keep it," he said, "and keep your promise. Ursi
+doesn't trust you, but I do. I know you won't abuse this power."
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Clark felt his body freeze rigid as a statue again. They pushed their
+way out of the clearing and disappeared. Overhead a bird chirped in
+loneliness, and the sky slowly turned pearly hued as the paralysis left
+him. Flexing his muscles, he shook his head. The creepy little men were
+all part of a crazy hallucination. His mad rabbit hunt and the deafening
+roar of his gunfire had temporarily unhinged his mind.
+
+A low humming sound interrupted his moody pondering. Suddenly he reeled
+as the ground shuddered beneath him and he staggered blindly in pitch
+darkness. He opened his eyes to look around, dazed. His shotgun was
+missing, but the shiny cylinder was clutched tightly in his hand.
+
+Clark trembled as he examined it. Along its length were etched a row of
+queer symbols. Probably directions for its operation or servicing, he
+decided. He aimed the knob at some rocks a few yards away and pressed
+the button. But they didn't explode or disintegrate under a lethal
+"ray." Then discovering that a narrow center section of the cylinder
+revolved by slow, even degrees, he tried again impatiently.
+
+A loud clatter made him look up, gaping. A cluster of rocks hung
+motionless in the air. When his finger lifted, they fell to earth. The
+mechanism neutralized gravitational pull--objects could float!
+
+Breathing excitedly, Clark twisted the center section further. The
+stones shot up into the sky and disappeared. Quickly he adjusted the
+mechanism's control and brought them flashing back. He stared at the
+cylinder in unbelieving awe. Power men dreamed of surged inside it like
+an eager magic genie.
+
+He experimented carefully, floating the rocks at different angles and
+then hurtling them skyward. When he cut off the strange power, they
+crashed heavily to the ground. The possibilities were tremendous! And
+aside from the natural hazards of collision, how could it imperil
+mankind? Then as a thin cloud of dust billowed up from the fallen rocks,
+a vision of its war potential burst upon him. Clumsy, costly rockets
+with a single payload were obsolete. Atomic bombs could be showered
+almost instantly on an enemy.
+
+_I know you won't abuse this power!_
+
+Clark recalled Baldy's hopeful, trusting words and grinned. No, he
+wouldn't abuse it. He realized the aliens had not understated its
+deadliness. No matter how the military pressed him, he wouldn't permit
+its use for mass bombings in the coming war. Not unless the enemy really
+threatened to overrun the world...
+
+He left the clearing and headed down the canyon.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+When Clark reached the mouth of the canyon, he frowned. Out on a green
+meadow a farmer drove a tractor, busily plowing deep furrows for a new
+crop. A trim ranch house in the distance gleamed in the morning
+sunlight. Funny. Earlier, when he had crossed the field, he hadn't
+noticed a sign of civilization. But it had been nearly dark then.
+
+He strolled casually down to a rude stone wall and watched the tractor
+churn toward him. The farmer waved. He jolted to a halt, cut the engine
+and wiped a red bandana over his wrinkled, sweating face. Clark glanced
+down at his own shabby clothes and rubbed a rough, bristly chin. If he
+looked like a bum, his brief demonstration would seem all the more
+amazing.
+
+"Pretty hot work, eh?" Clark greeted him.
+
+"Yep," the old farmer nodded as he drank from a canteen. Clark grinned.
+History would record this man as the first person to actually witness a
+degravitator at work. Clark studied the unplowed side of the meadow,
+then pointed at a large, half-buried boulder.
+
+"You have a little work there, mister. I think a Clark Farm Helper will
+do the trick."
+
+The farmer gave him a puzzled look. Clark calmly beamed the rock. At
+first it strained up and down, but finally wrenched free. He floated it
+up in a slow arc, then deliberately dropped it with a heavy thud. Clark
+chuckled as the farmer tried to hide his astonishment with a poker face.
+
+"That for sale?" he asked shrewdly.
+
+Clark laughed heartily. "Not this one. I'll make a fortune manufacturing
+these little babies!"
+
+"How do you figure that?"
+
+Clark frowned at the farmer's indifference. "Can't you see its
+possibilities? I just showed you!"
+
+"That's no good for farm work," the farmer said, reaching under his
+tractor seat. He raised what resembled a snub-nosed automatic. "This
+here's a real beauty. Had this general purpose degrav for two years and
+no trouble yet."
+
+He squeezed the trigger and the boulder skimmed across the field.
+
+"That looks like an old Harley single-drive you got there," the farmer
+said. "What'dya do? Recondition it and pep up the atomic pile?"
+
+Stunned, Clark swallowed hard. The old farmer leaned over his wheel in
+curiosity. "Those old timers are pretty scarce. I remember when the
+first model came out about twenty years ago, just after the war ended."
+
+"After the war?" Clark stammered.
+
+His mind spun in dizzy, sickening whirls. Degravitators were commonplace
+farm tools! Where was he? Then suddenly he knew the meaning of his
+strange black-out and Baldy's sly words. _I know you won't abuse this
+power._ How could he? Their superscience had catapulted him past the war
+years into the future.
+
+The old farmer said gently, "Tell you what, son, the wife's been nagging
+me for a pocket degrav to move furniture around the house. I'll give you
+a fiver for it and a square meal. You look kinda pale."
+
+
+
+
+
+
+

passages/pg32633.txt

@@ -0,0 +1,274 @@
+
+
+Transcriber's Note:
+
+This etext was produced from IF Worlds of Science Fiction January 1953.
+Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S. copyright
+on this publication was renewed.
+
+
+
+
+     _The atomic bomb meant, to most people, the end. To Henry Bemis it
+     meant something far different--a thing to appreciate and enjoy._
+
+
+
+
+                     Time Enough At Last
+
+                     By Lynn Venable
+
+
+For a long time, Henry Bemis had had an ambition. To read a book. Not
+just the title or the preface, or a page somewhere in the middle. He
+wanted to read the whole thing, all the way through from beginning to
+end. A simple ambition perhaps, but in the cluttered life of Henry
+Bemis, an impossibility.
+
+Henry had no time of his own. There was his wife, Agnes who owned that
+part of it that his employer, Mr. Carsville, did not buy. Henry was
+allowed enough to get to and from work--that in itself being quite a
+concession on Agnes' part.
+
+Also, nature had conspired against Henry by handing him with a pair of
+hopelessly myopic eyes. Poor Henry literally couldn't see his hand in
+front of his face. For a while, when he was very young, his parents
+had thought him an idiot. When they realized it was his eyes, they got
+glasses for him. He was never quite able to catch up. There was never
+enough time. It looked as though Henry's ambition would never be
+realized. Then something happened which changed all that.
+
+Henry was down in the vault of the Eastside Bank & Trust when it
+happened. He had stolen a few moments from the duties of his teller's
+cage to try to read a few pages of the magazine he had bought that
+morning. He'd made an excuse to Mr. Carsville about needing bills in
+large denominations for a certain customer, and then, safe inside the
+dim recesses of the vault he had pulled from inside his coat the
+pocket size magazine.
+
+He had just started a picture article cheerfully entitled "The New
+Weapons and What They'll Do To YOU", when all the noise in the world
+crashed in upon his ear-drums. It seemed to be inside of him and
+outside of him all at once. Then the concrete floor was rising up at
+him and the ceiling came slanting down toward him, and for a fleeting
+second Henry thought of a story he had started to read once called
+"The Pit and The Pendulum". He regretted in that insane moment that he
+had never had time to finish that story to see how it came out. Then
+all was darkness and quiet and unconsciousness.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+When Henry came to, he knew that something was desperately wrong with
+the Eastside Bank & Trust. The heavy steel door of the vault was
+buckled and twisted and the floor tilted up at a dizzy angle, while
+the ceiling dipped crazily toward it. Henry gingerly got to his feet,
+moving arms and legs experimentally. Assured that nothing was broken,
+he tenderly raised a hand to his eyes. His precious glasses were
+intact, thank God! He would never have been able to find his way out
+of the shattered vault without them.
+
+He made a mental note to write Dr. Torrance to have a spare pair made
+and mailed to him. Blasted nuisance not having his prescription on
+file locally, but Henry trusted no-one but Dr. Torrance to grind those
+thick lenses into his own complicated prescription. Henry removed the
+heavy glasses from his face. Instantly the room dissolved into a
+neutral blur. Henry saw a pink splash that he knew was his hand, and a
+white blob come up to meet the pink as he withdrew his pocket
+handkerchief and carefully dusted the lenses. As he replaced the
+glasses, they slipped down on the bridge of his nose a little. He had
+been meaning to have them tightened for some time.
+
+He suddenly realized, without the realization actually entering his
+conscious thoughts, that something momentous had happened, something
+worse than the boiler blowing up, something worse than a gas main
+exploding, something worse than anything that had ever happened
+before. He felt that way because it was so quiet. There was no whine
+of sirens, no shouting, no running, just an ominous and all pervading
+silence.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Henry walked across the slanting floor. Slipping and stumbling on the
+uneven surface, he made his way to the elevator. The car lay crumpled
+at the foot of the shaft like a discarded accordian. There was
+something inside of it that Henry could not look at, something that
+had once been a person, or perhaps several people, it was impossible
+to tell now.
+
+Feeling sick, Henry staggered toward the stairway. The steps were
+still there, but so jumbled and piled back upon one another that it
+was more like climbing the side of a mountain than mounting a
+stairway. It was quiet in the huge chamber that had been the lobby of
+the bank. It looked strangely cheerful with the sunlight shining
+through the girders where the ceiling had fallen. The dappled sunlight
+glinted across the silent lobby, and everywhere there were huddled
+lumps of unpleasantness that made Henry sick as he tried not to look
+at them.
+
+"Mr. Carsville," he called. It was very quiet. Something had to be
+done, of course. This was terrible, right in the middle of a Monday,
+too. Mr. Carsville would know what to do. He called again, more
+loudly, and his voice cracked hoarsely, "Mr. Carrrrsville!" And then
+he saw an arm and shoulder extending out from under a huge fallen
+block of marble ceiling. In the buttonhole was the white carnation Mr.
+Carsville had worn to work that morning, and on the third finger of
+that hand was a massive signet ring, also belonging to Mr. Carsville.
+Numbly, Henry realized that the rest of Mr. Carsville was under that
+block of marble.
+
+Henry felt a pang of real sorrow. Mr. Carsville was gone, and so was
+the rest of the staff--Mr. Wilkinson and Mr. Emory and Mr. Prithard,
+and the same with Pete and Ralph and Jenkins and Hunter and Pat the
+guard and Willie the doorman. There was no one to say what was to be
+done about the Eastside Bank & Trust except Henry Bemis, and Henry
+wasn't worried about the bank, there was something he wanted to do.
+
+He climbed carefully over piles of fallen masonry. Once he stepped
+down into something that crunched and squashed beneath his feet and he
+set his teeth on edge to keep from retching. The street was not much
+different from the inside, bright sunlight and so much concrete to
+crawl over, but the unpleasantness was much, much worse. Everywhere
+there were strange, motionless lumps that Henry could not look at.
+
+Suddenly, he remembered Agnes. He should be trying to get to Agnes,
+shouldn't he? He remembered a poster he had seen that said, "In event
+of emergency do not use the telephone, your loved ones are as safe as
+you." He wondered about Agnes. He looked at the smashed automobiles,
+some with their four wheels pointing skyward like the stiffened legs
+of dead animals. He couldn't get to Agnes now anyway, if she was safe,
+then, she was safe, otherwise ... of course, Henry knew Agnes wasn't
+safe. He had a feeling that there wasn't anyone safe for a long, long
+way, maybe not in the whole state or the whole country, or the whole
+world. No, that was a thought Henry didn't want to think, he forced it
+from his mind and turned his thoughts back to Agnes.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+She had been a pretty good wife, now that it was all said and done. It
+wasn't exactly her fault if people didn't have time to read nowadays.
+It was just that there was the house, and the bank, and the yard.
+There were the Jones' for bridge and the Graysons' for canasta and
+charades with the Bryants. And the television, the television Agnes
+loved to watch, but would never watch alone. He never had time to read
+even a newspaper. He started thinking about last night, that business
+about the newspaper.
+
+Henry had settled into his chair, quietly, afraid that a creaking
+spring might call to Agnes' attention the fact that he was momentarily
+unoccupied. He had unfolded the newspaper slowly and carefully, the
+sharp crackle of the paper would have been a clarion call to Agnes. He
+had glanced at the headlines of the first page. "Collapse Of
+Conference Imminent." He didn't have time to read the article. He
+turned to the second page. "Solon Predicts War Only Days Away." He
+flipped through the pages faster, reading brief snatches here and
+there, afraid to spend too much time on any one item. On a back page
+was a brief article entitled, "Prehistoric Artifacts Unearthed In
+Yucatan". Henry smiled to himself and carefully folded the sheet of
+paper into fourths. That would be interesting, he would read all of
+it. Then it came, Agnes' voice. "Henrrreee!" And then she was upon
+him. She lightly flicked the paper out of his hands and into the
+fireplace. He saw the flames lick up and curl possessively around the
+unread article. Agnes continued, "Henry, tonight is the Jones' bridge
+night. They'll be here in thirty minutes and I'm not dressed yet, and
+here you are ... _reading_." She had emphasized the last word as
+though it were an unclean act. "Hurry and shave, you know how smooth
+Jasper Jones' chin always looks, and then straighten up this room."
+She glanced regretfully toward the fireplace. "Oh dear, that paper,
+the television schedule ... oh well, after the Jones leave there won't
+be time for anything but the late-late movie and.... Don't just sit
+there, Henry, hurrreeee!"
+
+Henry was hurrying now, but hurrying too much. He cut his leg on a
+twisted piece of metal that had once been an automobile fender. He
+thought about things like lock-jaw and gangrene and his hand trembled
+as he tied his pocket-handkerchief around the wound. In his mind, he
+saw the fire again, licking across the face of last night's newspaper.
+He thought that now he would have time to read all the newspapers he
+wanted to, only now there wouldn't be any more. That heap of rubble
+across the street had been the Gazette Building. It was terrible to
+think there would never be another up to date newspaper. Agnes would
+have been very upset, no television schedule. But then, of course, no
+television. He wanted to laugh but he didn't. That wouldn't have been
+fitting, not at all.
+
+He could see the building he was looking for now, but the silhouette
+was strangely changed. The great circular dome was now a ragged
+semi-circle, half of it gone, and one of the great wings of the
+building had fallen in upon itself. A sudden panic gripped Henry
+Bemis. What if they were all ruined, destroyed, every one of them?
+What if there wasn't a single one left? Tears of helplessness welled
+in his eyes as he painfully fought his way over and through the
+twisted fragments of the city.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+He thought of the building when it had been whole. He remembered the
+many nights he had paused outside its wide and welcoming doors. He
+thought of the warm nights when the doors had been thrown open and he
+could see the people inside, see them sitting at the plain wooden
+tables with the stacks of books beside them. He used to think then,
+what a wonderful thing a public library was, a place where anybody,
+anybody at all could go in and read.
+
+He had been tempted to enter many times. He had watched the people
+through the open doors, the man in greasy work clothes who sat near
+the door, night after night, laboriously studying, a technical journal
+perhaps, difficult for him, but promising a brighter future. There had
+been an aged, scholarly gentleman who sat on the other side of the
+door, leisurely paging, moving his lips a little as he did so, a man
+having little time left, but rich in time because he could do with it
+as he chose.
+
+Henry had never gone in. He had started up the steps once, got almost
+to the door, but then he remembered Agnes, her questions and shouting,
+and he had turned away.
+
+He was going in now though, almost crawling, his breath coming in
+stabbing gasps, his hands torn and bleeding. His trouser leg was
+sticky red where the wound in his leg had soaked through the
+handkerchief. It was throbbing badly but Henry didn't care. He had
+reached his destination.
+
+Part of the inscription was still there, over the now doorless
+entrance. P-U-B--C L-I-B-R---. The rest had been torn away. The place
+was in shambles. The shelves were overturned, broken, smashed, tilted,
+their precious contents spilled in disorder upon the floor. A lot of
+the books, Henry noted gleefully, were still intact, still whole,
+still readable. He was literally knee deep in them, he wallowed in
+books. He picked one up. The title was "Collected Works of William
+Shakespeare." Yes, he must read that, sometime. He laid it aside
+carefully. He picked up another. Spinoza. He tossed it away, seized
+another, and another, and still another. Which to read first ... there
+were so many.
+
+He had been conducting himself a little like a starving man in a
+delicatessen--grabbing a little of this and a little of that in a
+frenzy of enjoyment.
+
+But now he steadied away. From the pile about him, he selected one
+volume, sat comfortably down on an overturned shelf, and opened the
+book.
+
+Henry Bemis smiled.
+
+There was the rumble of complaining stone. Minute in comparison with
+the epic complaints following the fall of the bomb. This one occurred
+under one corner of the shelf upon which Henry sat. The shelf moved;
+threw him off balance. The glasses slipped from his nose and fell with
+a tinkle.
+
+He bent down, clawing blindly and found, finally, their smashed
+remains. A minor, indirect destruction stemming from the sudden,
+wholesale smashing of a city. But the only one that greatly interested
+Henry Bemis.
+
+He stared down at the blurred page before him.
+
+He began to cry.
+
+
+                    THE END
+
+
+

passages/pg32638.txt

@@ -0,0 +1,346 @@
+
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Sankar Viswanathan, Greg Weeks, and the Online
+Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+                         Transcriber's Note:
+
+    This etext was produced from Weird Tales August-September 1936.
+    Extensive research did not uncover any evidence that the U.S.
+    copyright on this publication was renewed.
+
+
+                             In the Dark
+
+
+                           By RONAL KAYSER
+
+
+     _It was a tale of sheer horror that old Asa Gregg poured
+      into the dictaphone_
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+The watchman's flashlight printed a white circle on the frosted-glass,
+black-lettered door:
+
+              GREGG CHEMICAL CO., MFRS.
+                   ASA GREGG, PRES.
+                     PRIVATE
+
+The watchman's hand closed on the knob, rattled the door in its frame.
+Queer, but tonight the sound had seemed to come from in there.... But
+that couldn't be. He knew that Mr. Gregg and Miss Carruthers carried
+the only keys to the office, so any intruder would have been forced to
+smash the lock.
+
+Maybe the sound came from the storage room. The watchman clumped along
+the rubber-matted corridor, flung his weight against that door. It
+opened hard, being of ponderous metal fitted into a cork casing. The
+room was an air-tight, fire-proof vault, really. His shoes gritted on
+the concrete floor as he prowled among the big porcelain vats. The
+flashlight bored through bluish haze to the concrete walls. Acid fumes
+escaping under the vat lids made the haze and seared the man's throat.
+
+He hurried out, coughing and wiping his eyes. It was damn funny. Every
+night lately he heard the same peculiar noise somewhere in this wing
+of the building.... Like a body groaning and turning in restless
+sleep, it was. It scared him. He didn't mention the mystery to anyone,
+though. He was an old man, and he didn't want Mr. Gregg to think he
+was getting too old for the job.
+
+"Asa 'd think I was crazy, if I told him about it," he mumbled.
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Inside the office, Asa Gregg heard the muttered words plainly. He sat
+very still in the big, leather-cushioned chair, hardly breathing until
+the scrape of the watchman's feet had thinned away down the hall.
+There was no light in the room to betray him; only the cherry-colored
+tip of his cigar, which couldn't be visible through the frosted glass
+door. Anyway, it'd be an hour before the watchman's round brought him
+past the office again. Asa Gregg had that hour, if he could screw up
+his nerve to use it....
+
+He took the frayed end of the cigar from his mouth. His hand, which
+had wasted to mere skin and bone these past few months, groped through
+the darkness, slid over the polished coolness of the dictaphone hood,
+and snapped the switch. Machinery faintly whirred. His fingers found
+the tube, lifted it.
+
+"Miss Carruthers!" he snapped. Then he hesitated. Surely, he could
+trust Mary Carruthers! He'd never wondered about her before. She'd
+been his secretary for a dozen years--lately, since he couldn't look
+after affairs himself as he used to, she had practically run the
+business. She was forty, sensible, unbeautiful, and tight-lipped.
+Hell, he had to trust her!
+
+His voice plunged into the darkness.
+
+"What I have to say now is intended for Mrs. Gregg's ears only. She
+will take the first boat home, of course. Meet that boat and bring her
+to the office. Since my wife knows nothing about a dictaphone, it will
+be necessary for you to set this record running. As soon as you have
+done so, leave her alone in the room. Make sure she's not interrupted
+for a half-hour. That's all."
+
+He waited a decent interval. The invisible needle peeled its thread
+into the revolving wax cylinder.
+
+"Jeannette," muttered Asa Gregg, and hesitated again. This wasn't
+going to be easy to say. He decided to begin matter-of-factly. "As you
+probably know, my will and the insurance policies are in the vault at
+the First National. I believe you will find all of my papers in
+excellent order. If any questions arise, consult Miss Carruthers. What
+I have to say to you now is purely personal--I feel, my dear, that I
+owe you an explanation--that is----"
+
+God, it came harder than he had expected.
+
+"Jeannette," he started in afresh, "you remember three years ago when
+I was in the hospital. You were in Palm Beach at the time, and I wired
+that there'd been an accident here at the plant. That wasn't strictly
+so. The fact is, I'd gotten mixed up with a girl----"
+
+He paused, shivering. In the darkness a picture of Dot swam before
+him. The oval face, framed by gleaming swirls of lemon-tinted hair,
+had pouting scarlet lips, and eyes whose allure was intensified by
+violet make-up. The full-length picture of her included a streamlined,
+full-blossomed and yet delectably lithe body. A costly, enticing,
+Broadway-chorus orchid! As a matter of fact, that was where he'd found
+her.
+
+"I won't make any excuses for myself," Asa Gregg said harshly. "I
+might point out that you were always in Florida or Bermuda or France,
+and that I was a lonely man. But it wasn't just loneliness, and I
+didn't seek companionship. I thought I was making a last bow to
+Romance. I was successful, sixty, and silly, and I did all the damn
+fool things--I even wrote letters to her. Popsy-wopsy letters." The
+dictaphone couldn't record the grimace that jerked his lips. "She
+saved them, of course, and by and by she put a price on them--ten
+thousand dollars. Dot claimed that one of those filthy tabloids had
+offered her that much for them--and what was a poor working-girl to
+do? She lied. I knew that.
+
+"I told her to bring the letters to the office after business hours,
+and I'd take care of her. I took care of her, all right. I shot her,
+Jeannette!"
+
+He mopped his face with a handkerchief that was already damp.
+
+"Not on account of the money, you understand. It was the things she
+said, after she had tucked the bills into her purse ... vile things,
+about the way she had earned it ten times over by enduring my beastly
+kisses. I'd really loved that girl, and I'd thought she'd cared for me
+a little. It was her hate that maddened me, and I got the gun out of
+my desk drawer----"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Asa Gregg reached through the darkness for the switch. He fumbled for
+the bottle which stood on the desk. His hand trembled, spilling some
+of the liquor onto his lap. He drank from the bottle....
+
+This part of the story he'd skip. It was too horrible, even to think
+about it. He didn't want to remember how the blood pooled inside Dot's
+fur coat, and how he'd managed to carry the body out of the office
+without leaking any of her blood onto the floor. He tried to forget
+the musky sweetness of the perfume on the dead girl, mingled with that
+other evil blood-smell. Especially he didn't want to remember the
+frightful time he'd had stripping the gold rings from her fingers, and
+the one gold tooth in her head....
+
+The horror of it coiled in the blackness about him. His own teeth
+rattled against the bottle when he gulped the second drink. He
+snapped the switch savagely, but when he spoke his voice cringed into
+the tube:
+
+"I carried her into the storage room. I got the lid off one of the
+acid tanks. The vat contained an acid powerful enough to destroy
+anything--except gold. In fact, the vat itself had to be lined with
+gold-leaf. I knew that in twenty-four hours there wouldn't be a
+recognizable body left, and in a week there wouldn't be anything at
+all. No matter what the police suspected, they couldn't prove a murder
+charge without a _corpus delicti_. I had committed the perfect
+crime--except for one thing. I didn't realize that there'd be a
+_splash_ when she went into the vat."
+
+Gregg laughed, not pleasantly. His wife might think it'd been a sob,
+when she heard this record. "Now you understand why I went to the
+hospital," he jerked. "Possibly you'd call that poetic justice. Oh,
+God!"
+
+His voice broke. Again he thumbed off the switch, and mopped his face
+with the damp linen.
+
+The rest--how could he explain the rest of it?
+
+He spent a long minute arranging his thoughts.
+
+"You haven't any idea," he resumed, "no one has any idea, of how I've
+been punished for the thing I did. I don't mean the sheer physical
+agony--but the fear that I'd talk coming out of the ether at the
+hospital. The fear that she'd been traced to my office--I'd simply
+hidden her rings away, expecting to drop them into the river--or that
+she might have confided in her lover ... yes, she had one. Or, suppose
+a whopping big order came through and that tank was emptied the very
+next day. And I couldn't ask any questions--I didn't even know what
+was in the papers.
+
+"However, that part of it gradually cleared up. I quizzed Miss
+Carruthers, and learned that an unidentified female body had been
+fished out of the East River a few days after Dot disappeared. That's
+how the police 'solved' the case. I got rid of her rings. I ordered
+that vat left alone.
+
+"The other thing began about six months ago."
+
+A spasm contorted his face. His fingers ached their grip into the
+dictaphone tube.
+
+"Jeannette, you remember when I began to object to the radio, how I'd
+shout at you to turn it off in the middle of a program? You thought I
+was ill, and worried about business.... You were wrong. The thing that
+got me was _hearing her voice_----"
+
+He gripped the cold cigar, chewed it. "It's very strange that you
+didn't notice it. No matter what station we dialed to, always that
+same voice came stealing into the room! But perhaps you did notice?
+You said, once or twice, that all those blues singers sounded alike!
+
+"And she was a blues singer.... It was she, all right, somewhere out
+in the ether, reminding me....
+
+"The next thing was--well, at first when I noticed it in the office I
+thought Miss Carruthers had suddenly taken up with young ideas. You
+see, I kept smelling perfume."
+
+And he smelled it now. It was like a miasma in the dark.
+
+"It isn't anything that Carruthers wears," he grated. "It comes
+from--yes, the storage room. I realized that about a month ago. Just
+after you sailed--one night I stayed late at the office, and I went in
+there.... It seemed to be strongest around the vat--_her_ vat--and I
+lifted the lid.
+
+"The sweet, sticky musk-smell hit me like a blow in the face.
+
+"And that isn't all!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+Terror stalked in this room. Asa Gregg crouched in his chair, felt the
+weight of Fear on him like a submarine pressure. His cigar pitched to
+his knees, dropped to the floor.
+
+"You won't believe this, Jeannette." He hammered the words like nails
+into the darkness in front of him. "You will say that it's impossible.
+I know that. It _is_ impossible. It is a physiological absurdity--it
+contradicts the laws of natural science.
+
+"_But I saw something on the bottom of that vat!_"
+
+He groped for the bottle. His wife would hear a long gurgle, and then
+a coughing gasp....
+
+"The vat was nearly full of this transparent, oily acid," he went on.
+"What I saw was a lot of sediment on the golden floor. And there
+shouldn't have been any sediment! The stuff utterly dissolves animal
+tissue, bone, even the common ores--keeps them in suspension.
+
+"It didn't look like sediment, either. It looked like a heap of mold ...
+grave-mold!
+
+"I replaced the lid. I spent a week convincing myself that it was all
+impossible, that I _couldn't_ have seen anything of the sort. Then I
+went to the vat again----"
+
+Silence hung in the darkness while he sucked wind into his lungs. And
+the words burst--separate, yammering shrieks:
+
+"I looked, night after night! For hours at a time I've watched the
+change.... Did you ever see a body decompose? Of course not! Neither
+have I. But you must know in a general way what the process is. Well,
+this has been the exact opposite!
+
+"First, I stared at the heap of grave-mold as it shaped itself into
+_bones_, a skeleton.
+
+"I watched the coming of hair, a yellow tangle of it sprouting from
+the bare round skull, until--oh, God!--the flesh began making itself
+before my eyes! I couldn't bear any more. I stayed away--didn't come
+to the office for five days."
+
+The tube slipped from his sweating, slick fingers. Panting, Asa Gregg
+fumbled in the dark until he found it.
+
+Exhaustion, not self-control, flattened his voice to a deadly
+monotone. "I tried to think of a way out. If I could fish the corpse
+out of the tank! But I couldn't smuggle it out of the plant--alone.
+You know that, and so do I. Besides, what would be the use? If acid
+can't kill her, nothing can.
+
+"That's why I can't have the lid cemented on. It wouldn't do any good,
+either! Until three days ago, she hadn't the least color, looked as
+white as a ghost in the vat. A naked ghost, because there's been no
+resurrection for her clothing....
+
+"I've watched her limbs grow rosy! Her lips are scarlet! Her eyes are
+bright--they opened yesterday--and her breasts were rising and
+falling--oh, almost imperceptibly--but that was last night.
+
+"And tonight--I swear it--her lips moved! She muttered my name! She
+turned--she'd been lying on her side--over onto her back!"
+
+The record would be badly blurred. His hand shook violently, bobbled
+the tube against his lips. Gregg braced his elbow against the desk.
+
+"She isn't dead," he choked. "She's only asleep ... not very soundly
+asleep.... She's waking up!"
+
+The invisible needle quivered as it traced several noises. There was
+his tortured breathing, and the clawing of his fingernails rattling
+over the desk. The drawer clicked as it opened.
+
+The loud click was the cocking of the revolver.
+
+"_Soon she's going to get out of that vat!_" Gregg bleated.
+"Jeannette, forgive me--God, forgive me--but I will not--I cannot--I
+dare not stay here to see her then!"
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+The sound of the shot brought the watchman stumbling along the
+corridor. He crashed against the office door. It banged open in a
+shower of falling frosted glass. The watchman's flashlight severed the
+darkness, and printed its white circle on the face of Asa Gregg.
+
+He had fallen back into the chair, a blackish gout of blood running
+from the hole in his temple. He stared sightlessly into the light with
+his eyes that were two gnarls of shrunken brown flesh, like knots in a
+pine board.
+
+Asa Gregg was blind ... had been, since that night three years past
+when the acid splashed....
+
+       *       *       *       *       *
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+