Part 13

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

Wite where the cellar-door wuz shut The table wuz; an' I Let Aunty set by me an' cut My vittuls up--an' pie. 'Tuz awful funny!--I could see The red-heads in the churry-tree; An' bee-hives, where you got to be So keerful, goin' by;-- An' "Comp'ny" there an' all!--an' we-- _We et out on the porch_!

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

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

WILLY AND THE LADY

BY GELETT BURGESS

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Come and have a man-talk, Forget your girl-divan talk; You've got to get acquainted with another point of view! Girls will only fool you; We're the ones to school you; Come and talk the man-talk; that's the cure for you!

A NEW YEAR IDYL

BY EUGENE FIELD

Upon this happy New Year night, A roach crawls up my pot of paste, And begs me for a tiny taste. Aye, eat thy fill, for it is right That while the rest of earth is glad, And bells are ringing wild and free, Thou shouldst not, gentle roachling, be Forlorn and gaunt and weak and sad.

This paste to-night especially For thee and all thy kind I fixed, You'll find some whiskey in it mixed, For which you have to thank but me. So freely of the banquet take, And if you chance to find a drop Of liquor, prithee do not stop But quaff it for thy stomach's sake.

Why dost thou stand upon thy head, All etiquette requirements scorning, And sing "You won't go home till morning" And "Put me in my little bed"? Your tongue, fair roach, is very thick, Your eyes are red, your cheeks are pale, Your underpinning seems to fail, You are, I wot, full as a tick.

ENVOI

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

A LAY OF ANCIENT ROME

BY THOMAS YBARRA

Oh! the Roman was a rogue, He erat, was, you bettum; He ran his automobilis And smoked his cigarettum; He wore a diamond studibus, An elegant cravattum, A maxima cum laude shirt, And _such_ a stylish hattum!

He loved the luscious hic-hæc-hock, And bet on games and equi; At times he won; at others, though, He got it in the nequi; He winked (quo usque tandem?) At puellas on the Forum, And sometimes even made Those goo-goo oculorum!

He frequently was seen At combats gladiatorial, And ate enough to feed Ten boarders at Memorial; He often went on sprees And said, on starting homus, "Hic labor--opus est, Oh, where's my hic--hic--domus?"

Although he lived in Rome-- Of all the arts the middle-- He was (excuse the phrase) A horrid individ'l; Ah! what a diff'rent thing Was the homo (dative, hominy) Of far-away B. C. From us of Anno Domini.

LITTLE BOPEEP AND LITTLE BOY BLUE

BY SAMUEL MINTURN PECK

It happened one morning that Little Bopeep, While watching her frolicsome, mischievous sheep Out in the meadow, fell fast asleep.

By her wind-blown tresses and rose-leaf pout, And her dimpling smile, you'd have guessed, no doubt, 'Twas love, love, love she was dreaming about.

As she lay there asleep, came little Boy Blue, Right over the stile where the daisies grew; Entranced by the picture, he stopped in the dew.

So wildly bewitching that beautiful morn Was Little Bopeep that he dropped his horn And thought no more of the cows in the corn.

Our sorrows are many, our pleasures are few; O moment propitious! What could a man do? He kissed the wee lassie, that Little Boy Blue!

At the smack the woolies stood all in a row, And whispered each other, "We're clearly _de trop_; Such conduct is perfectly shocking--let's go!"

"FESTINA LENTE"

BY ROBERT J. BURDETTE

Blessings on thee, little man, Hasten slowly as you can; Loiter nimbly on your tramp With the ten-cent speedy stamp. Thou art "boss"; the business man Postals writes for thee to scan; And the man who writes, "With speed," Gets it--in his mind--indeed.

Lo, the man who penned the note Wasted ten cents when he wrote; And the maid for it will wait At the window, by the gate, In the doorway, down the street, List'ning for thy footsteps fleet. But her cheek will flush and pale, Till it comes next day by mail, With thine own indorsement neat-- "No such number on the street." Oh, if words could but destroy, Thou wouldst perish, truthful boy!

Oh, for boyhood's easy way-- Messenger who sleeps all day, Or, from rise to set of sun, Reads "The Terror" on the run.

For your sport, the band goes by; For your perch, the lamp post high; For your pleasure, on the street Dogs are fighting, drums are beat; For your sake, the boyish fray, Organ grinder, run-away; Trucks for your convenience are; For your ease, the bob-tail car; Every time and everywhere You're not wanted, you are there. Dawdling, whistling, loit'ring scamp, Seest thou this ten-cent stamp? Stay thou not for book or toy-- Vamos! Fly! Skedaddle, boy!

THE GENIAL IDIOT DISCUSSES LEAP YEAR

BY JOHN KENDRICK BANGS

"If I were a woman," said the Idiot, "I think that unless I had an affidavit from the man, sworn to before a notary and duly signed and sealed, stating that he did the proposing, I should decline to marry, or announce my engagement to be married in Leap Year. It is one of the drawbacks which the special privilege of Leap Year confers upon women that it puts them under suspicion of having done the courting if the thing comes out during the year."

"Don't you worry about that," laughed Mrs. Pedagog. "You can go through this country with a fine tooth comb and I'll wager you you won't find a woman anywhere who avails herself of the privilege who wouldn't have done the same thing in any old year if she wanted to. Of all the funny old superstitions, the quaintest of the lot is that Leap Year proposal business."

"How you talk," cried the Idiot. "Such iconoclasm. I had always supposed that Leap Year was a sort of matrimonial safety valve for old maids, and here in a trice you overthrow all the cherished notions of a lifetime. Why, Mrs. Pedagog, I know men who take to the woods every Leap Year just to escape the possibilities."

"Courageous souls," said the landlady. "Facing the unknown perils of the forest, rather than manfully meeting a proposal of marriage."

"It is hard to say no to a woman," said the Idiot. "I'd hate like time to have one of 'em come to me and ask me to be hers. Just imagine it. Some dainty little damsel of a soulful nature, with deep blue eyes, and golden curls, and pearly teeth, and cherry lips, a cheek like the soft and ripening peach and a smile that would bewitch even a Saint Anthony, getting down on her knees and saying, 'O Idiot--dearest Idiot--be mine--I love you, devotedly, tenderly, all through the Roget's Thesaurusly, and have from the moment I first saw you. With you to share it my lot in life will be heaven itself. Without you a Saharan waste of Arctic frigidity. Wilt thou?' I think I'd wilt. I couldn't bring myself to say 'No, Ethelinda, I can not be yours because my heart is set on a strengthful damsel with raven locks and eyes of coal, with lips a shade less cherry than thine, and a cheek more like the apple than the peach, who can go out on the links and play golf with me. But if you ever need a brother in your business I am the floor-walker that will direct you to the bargain-counter where you'll find the latest thing in brothers at cost.' I'd simply cave in on the instant and say, 'All right, Ethelinda, call a cab and we'll trot around to the Little Church Around the Corner and tie the knot; that is, my love, if you think you can support me in the style to which I am accustomed."

Mr. Brief laughed. "I wouldn't bother if I were you, Mr. Idiot," said he. "Women don't tie up very strongly to Idiots."

"Oh don't they," retorted the Idiot. "Well, do you know I had a sort of notion that they did. The men that some of the nice girls I have known in my day have tied up to have somehow or other given me the impression that a woman has a special leaning toward Idiots. There was my old sweetheart, Sallie Wiggins, for instance--that wasn't her real name, of course, but she was one of the finest girls that ever attended a bargain sale. She had a mind far above the ordinary. She could read Schopenhauer at sight; understand Browning in a minute; her soul was as big as her heart and her heart was two and a half sizes larger than the universe. She was so strong-minded that although she could write poetry she wouldn't, and in the last year of her single blessedness she was the Queen-pin among the girls of her set. What she said was law, and emancipation of her sex was her only vice. Well, what do you think happened to Sallie Wiggins? After refusing every fine man in town, including myself,--I must say I only asked her five times; no telling what a sixth would have brought forth--she succumbed to the blandishments of the first sapheaded young Lochinvar that came out of the west, married him, and is now the smiling mother of nine children, does all the family sewing, makes her own parlor bric-a-brac out of the discarded utensils of the kitchen, dresses herself on ninety dollars a decade, and is happy."

"But if she loved him--" began the Lawyer.

"Impossible," said the Idiot. "She pitied him. She knew that if she didn't marry him, and take charge of him, another woman would, and that the chances were ten to one that the other woman wouldn't do the thing right and that Saphead's life would be ruined forever."

"But you say she is happy," persisted the Lawyer.

"Certainly she is," said the Idiot. "Because her life is an eternal sacrifice to Saphead's needs, and if there is a luxury in this mundane sphere that woman essentially craves it is the luxury of sacrifice. There is something fanatic about it. Sallie Wiggins voluntarily turned her back on seven men that I know of, one of whom is a Governor of his state; two of whom are now in Congress; one of whom is a judge of a state court; two of whom have become millionaire merchants; and the seventh of whom is to-day, probably, the most brilliant ornament of the penitentiary. Everyone of 'em turned down for Saphead, a man who parted his hair in the middle, couldn't earn seven dollars a century on his wits, is destined to remain hopelessly nothing, keeps her busy sewing buttons on his clothes, and to save his life couldn't tell the difference between Matthew Arnold and an automobile, and yet you tell me that women don't care for idiots."

"Miss Wiggins--or Mrs. Saphead, to be more precise," said Mr. Brief, "is only one instance."

"Well--there was Margaret Perkins--same town--same experience," said the Idiot. "Lovely girl--sought after by everybody--proposed to her myself five times--President of the Mental Culture Society of Baggville--graduate of Smythe--woman-member of Board of Education--Director of Young Girls' Institute--danced like a dream--had a sense of humor--laughed at my jokes--and married--what?"

"Well, what?" demanded the Lawyer.

"Prof. Omega Nit Zero, teacher of Cingalese in the University of Oklawaha, founded by a millionaire from Geneseo, New Jersey, who owned a hotel on the Oklawaha River that didn't pay, and hoped to brace up a bad investment by the establishment in the vicinity of a centre of culture. Prof. Zero receives ten dollars a week, and with his wife and three pupils constitutes the whole faculty, board of trustees, janitor, and student body of the University," said the Idiot. "Mrs. Zero dresses on nothing a year; cares for her five children on the same basis, and is happy. They are the principal patrons of the Oklawaha Hotel."

"Well--if she is happy?" said the Bibliomaniac. "What business is it of anybody else? I think if Prof. Zero makes her happy he's the right kind of a man."

"You couldn't make Zero the right kind of a man," said the Idiot. "He isn't built that way. He wears men's clothes and he has sweet manners, and a dulcet voice, and the learning of the serpent; but when it comes to manhood he has the initiative of the turtle, lacking the cash value of the terrapin, or the turtle's mock brother; he wears a beard, but it is the beard of the bearded lady who up-to-date appears to be a useless appanage of the strenuous life; and when you try to get at his Americanism, if he has any, he flies off into stilted periods having to do with the superior virtues of the Cingalese. And Margaret Perkins that was hangs on his utterances as though he were a very archangel."

"Good," ejaculated Mr. Brief. "I am glad to hear that she is happy."

"So am I," said the Idiot. "But such happiness."

"Well, what's it all got to do with Leap Year, anyhow?" asked the Bibliomaniac.

"Nothing at all, except that it proves that girls aren't fitted really to choose their own husbands, and that therefore the special privilege conferred upon them by the recurrence of Leap Year should be rescinded by law," said the Idiot. "That privilege, owing to woman's incapacity to choose correctly, and man's weakness in the use of negatives, is a standing menace to the future happiness of the people."

"Hoity-toity," cried Mrs. Pedagog. "What a proposition. Tell me, Mr. Idiot, if a woman is not capable of selecting her own husband, who on earth is? Man himself--that embodiment of all the wisdom and all the sagacity of the ages?"

"I didn't say so," said the Idiot. "And I don't really think so," he added. "The whole institution of getting engaged to be married should be regulated by the public authorities. Every county should have its Matrimonial Bureau, whose duty it should be to pair off all the eligible candidates in the matrimonial market, and in pairing them off it should be done on a basis of mutual fitness. Bachelors and old maids should be legislated out of existence, and nobody should be allowed to marry a second time until everybody else had been provided for. It is perfectly scandalous to me to read in the newspapers that a prominent widow in a certain town has married her third husband, when it is known that that same city contains 25,000 old maids who haven't the ghost of a show unless the State steps in and helps them out. What business has any woman to work up a corner in husbands, with so many of her sisters absolutely starving matrimonially?"

"And the young people are to have nothing to say about it, eh?" asked Mr. Brief.

"Oh yes--they can put in an application to the Bureau stating that they want to wed, and the Board of Managers can consider the desirability of issuing a permit," said the Idiot. "And they should be compelled to show cause why they should not be restrained from getting married. It is only in such a way that the state can reasonably guarantee the permanence of a contract to which it is in a sense a party. The State, by the establishment of certain laws, demands that the marriage contract shall practically be a life affair. It should therefore take it upon itself to see to it that there is a tolerable prospect at least that the contract is a just one. Many a poor woman has been bound to a life-long obligation of misery in which no consideration whatever has been paid by the party of the second part. If a contract without consideration will not stand in commerce, why should it in matrimony?"

"What you ought to go in for is Mormonism," snapped Mrs. Pedagog. "Keep on getting married until you've found just the right one and then get rid of all the others."

"That is a pleasing alternative," said the Idiot. "But expensive. I'd hate to pay a milliner's bill for a Mormon household--but anyhow we needn't grow acrimonious over the subject, for whatever I may think of matrimony as she exists to-day, all the injustices, inequalities, miseries of it, and all that, I prefer it to acrimony, and I haven't the slightest idea that my dream of perfect conditions will ever be realized. Only, Mary--"

"Yessir?" said the Maid.

"If between this and the first of January, 1905, any young ladies, or old ones either, call here and ask for me--"

"Yessir," said the Maid.

"Tell 'em I've gone to Nidjni-Novgorod and am not expected back for eleven years," said the Idiot. "I'm not going to take any chances."

COMPLETE INDEX

ALPHABETICALLY ARRANGED BY AUTHORS

ADAMS, CHARLES FOLLEN Bary Jade, To, 1899 Der Oak und der Vine, 1823 Shonny Schwartz, 1206 Yawcob Strauss, 370

ADE, GEORGE Hon. Ransom Peabody, 1429

ADELER, MAX (see CHARLES HEBER CLARK)

ALDRICH, THOMAS BAILEY Our New Neighbors at Ponkapog, 403

ALLEN, NINA R. Women and Bargains, 1352

AMSBARY, WALLACE BRUCE Anatole Dubois at de Horse Show, 152 De Gradual Commence, 1164 Oncl' Antoine on 'Change, 1891 Rubaiyat of Mathieu Lettellier, 1965 Tim Flanagan's Mistake, 1673 Verre Definite, 1183

ANONYMOUS Book-Canvasser, The, 1113 Country School, The, 1734 Merchant and the Book-Agent, The, 1124

APPLETON, JACK Modern Farmer, The, 1083

ARP, BILL (see CHARLES H. SMITH)

BAGBY, GEORGE W. How "Ruby" Played, 311

BAILEY, JAMES MONTGOMERY ("The Danbury News Man") After the Funeral, 1146 Mr. Stiver's Horse, 464

BALDWIN, JOSEPH G. Assault and Battery, 1391

BANGS, JOHN KENDRICK By Bay and Sea, 1367 Genial Idiot Discusses Leap Year, The, 2018 Genial Idiot Discusses the Music Cure, The, 1105 Genial Idiot Suggests a Comic Opera, The, 504 Gentle Art of Boosting, The, 1575 University Intelligence Office, The, 1727

BATCHELDER, FRANK ROE Happy Land, The, 1389 Wicked Zebra, The, 1322

BAXTER, BILLY (see WILLIAM J. KOUNTZ, JR.)

BECKER, CHARLOTTE Modern Advantage, A, 642

BEDOTT, WIDOW (see FRANCES M. WHICHER)

BEECHER, HENRY WARD Deacon's Trout, The, 212 Organ, The, 217

BELDEN, J. V. Z. A Committee from Kelly's, 929

BILLINGS, JOSH (see HENRY W. SHAW)

BOYNTON, H. W. The Golfer's Rubaiyat, 319

BRIDGES, MADELINE A Mothers' Meeting, 1886

BROWNE, CHARLES FARRAR ("Artemus Ward") Tower of London, The, 528 Uncle Simon and Uncle Jim, 539

BRYANT, WILLIAM CULLEN The Mosquito, 1199

BURDETTE, ROBERT J. Archæological Congress, An, 390 Brakeman at Church, The, 1323 Day We Do Not Celebrate, The, 134 "Festina Lente", 2016 Margins, 1297 My First Cigar, 1204 Plaint of Jonah, The, 485 Rollo Learning to Play, 912 Rollo Learning to Read, 448 Soldier, Rest, 1796 Songs Without Words, 1261 Strike at Hinman's, The, 342 What Lack We Yet, 1897

BURGESS, GELETT Bohemians of Boston, The, 519 Nonsense Verses, 1244 Purple Cow, The, 13 Vive la Bagatelle, 280 Willy and the Lady, 2009

BUTLER, ELLIS PARKER The Crimson Cord, 470

BUTLER, WILLIAM ALLEN Nothing to Wear, 1435

CARLETON, HENRY GUY The Thompson Street Poker Club, 1140

CARMAN, BLISS Modern Eclogue, A, 645 In Philistia, 567 Sceptics, The, 1626 Spring Feeling, A, 1129 Staccato to O Le Lupe, A, 1499

CARRUTH, HAYDEN Familiar Authors at Work, 289 Uncle Bentley and the Roosters, 1873

CARRYL, CHARLES E. Nautical Ballad, A, 348

CARY, PHOEBE "Day Is Done, The", 1628 I Remember, I Remember, 652 Jacob, 1898 Marriage of Sir John Smith, The, 803 Psalm of Life, A, 207 Samuel Brown, 259 "There's a Bower of Bean-Vines", 1916 When Lovely Woman, 1834

CHALLING, JOHN Rhyme for Christmas, A, 1290

CHAMBERS, ROBERT W. Recruit, The, 230

CHESTER, GEORGE RANDOLPH Especially Men, 937

CLARK, CHARLES HEBER ("Max Adeler") Millionaires, The, 1675

CLARKE, JOSEPH I. C. Fighting Race, The, 214

CLEMENS, SAMUEL L. Evidence in the Case of Smith vs. Jones, The, 1918 Great Prize Fight, The, 1903 Nevada Sketches, 1805

CONE, HELEN AVERY Spring Beauties, The, 805

COOKE, EDMUND VANCE Daniel Come to Judgment, A, 1399 Final Choice, The, 1427

CORTISSOZ, ELLEN MACKAY HUTCHINSON Praise-God Barebones, 765

COX, KENYON Bumblebeaver, The, 1145 Octopussycat, The, 1112 Paintermine, The, 1100 Welsh Rabbittern, The, 1120 Wild Boarder, The, 1163

COZZENS, FREDERICK S. Family Horse, The, 715

CRANE, FRANK Wamsley's Automatic Pastor, 511

CRAYON, PORTE (see B. F. STROTHER) Culbertson, Anne Virginia Comin' Thu, 333 Go Lightly, Gal (The Cake-Walk), 317 How Mr. Terrapin Lost His Beard, 1328 How Mr. Terrapin Lost His Plumage and Whistle, 1360 Mr. Hare Tries to Get a Wife, 921 Quit Yo' Worryin, 934 Whar Dem Sinful Apples Grow, 903 Why Moles Have Hands, 202 Woman Who Married an Owl, The, 838

CURTIS, GEORGE WILLIAM Our Best Society, 233

CUTTING, MARY STEWART Not According to Schedule, 1448

DALE, ALAN Wanted--A Cook, 35

DAVIES, JOHN JAMES Ballade of the "How To" Books, A, 416

DAY, HOLMAN F. Had a Set of Double Teeth, 1994 When the Allegash Drive Goes Through, 1214

DERBY, GEORGE H. ("John Phoenix") Lectures on Astronomy, 847 Musical Review Extraordinary, 824

DEVERE, WILLIAM Walk, 300

DODGE, MARY ABIGAIL ("Gail Hamilton") Complaint of Friends, A, 604

DOOLEY, MR. (see FINLEY PETER DUNNE)

DOWNING, MAJOR JACK (see SEBA SMITH)

DRUMMOND, WILLIAM HENRY De Stove Pipe Hole, 774 Natural Philosophy, 1722 When Albani Sang, 92