Part 23

Wid so much Christian blood in ’is veins, You’d think Brer ’Skitty would take some pains To love ’is neighbor an’ show good-will, But he’s p’izenin’ an’ backbitin’ still. An’ he ain’t by ’isself in dat, in dat-- No, he ain’t by ’isself in dat.

THE RAT

Brer Rat in de corn-bin overfed An’ underworked, an’ now he’s dead; He craved to live lak a bloated chief, An’ now he ain’t nothin’ but a ol’ dead thief. An’ he ain’t by ’isself in dat, in dat-- An’ he ain’t by ’isself in dat.

[Illustration: Drawn by Oliver Herford]

MAY, FROM MY WINDOW

BY FRANCES ROSE BENÉT

A sparkling morning after weeks of rain; All fresh and fragrant glows my world, new-made. Bluebirds sing ballads; sparrows chirp refrain; Old Mother Spider, peering from the shade, With gastronomic joy surveys a fly, Her table-cloth hung on a bush to dry.

A little lizard creeps from out his crack To bask in sunshine till he’s done quite brown; A butterfly starts on her breathless track, Her errand gay, to lure a lad from town; Even the garden’s foe, the slimy snail, Leaves on the walk an iridescent trail.

Fat Doctor Robin now comes hurrying by, His neat attire touched up with claret vest. “Important case!” I see it in his eye. “No time to sing, with babies in that nest.” Quick! little doctor! _Will_ he catch the train? Sudden he stops; my heart jumps to my throat. “Thunder and Mars!” I hear him say quite plain, “I’ve left my wallet in my other coat!”

[Illustration: NOISE EXTRACTED WITHOUT PAIN

~Waiter~ (to single gentleman):--“Excuse me, sir, but that lady and gentleman wish me to recommend to you one of those new Maxim soup silencers!”]

LIFE’S ASPIRATION

(A more-than-symbolic sonnet for a picture of the same sort by George Wolfe Plank)

BY LOUIS UNTERMEYER

Urged by the peacocks of our vanity, Up the frail tree of life we climb and grope; About our heads the tragic branches slope, Heavy with time and xanthic mystery.

Beyond, the brooding bird of fate we see Viewing the world with eyes forever ope’, And lured by all the phantom fruits of hope, We cling in anguish to this fragile tree.

O lowering skies! O clouds, that point in scorn, With the lean fingers of a wrinkled wrath! O dedal moon, that rears its ghostly horn!

O hidden stars, that tread the cosmic path! Shall we attain the glory of the morn, Or sink into some awful aftermath!

[Illustration]

THE NEW ART

(With apologies to Rossetti)

BY CORINNE ROCKWELL SWAIN

The cubist damosel leaned out From a neurotic heaven; Her face was stranger than the dreams Of topers filled at even: She had four facets to her nose, And the eyes in her head were seven.

Her robe, concrete from clasp to hem, Six angles did adorn, With a white parallelogram For trimming neatly worn: Her hair rose up in pentagons, Like yellow ears of corn.

It was a post-impression house That she was standing on; While maudlin quadrilateral clouds O’er mystic gardens spun, And three denatured greyhounds ran Circlewise round the sun.

“I wish that they could draw,” she moaned, “Nor throw such fits as this; Souza-Cardosa, and the five Who love weird symphonies: Fiebig, Picabia, Picasso, D’Erlanger, and Matisse.”

She smiled, though her amorphous mouth Was vague beyond her ears; Then cast her beveled arms along The rhomboid barriers, And shedding asymmetric plinths, She wept. (I heard her tears.)

LIMERICKS

TEXT AND PICTURES BY OLIVER HERFORD

[Illustration]

THE SOMNOLENT BIVALVE

Said the oyster: “To-morrow’s May-day; But don’t call me early, I pray. Just tuck me instead In my snug oyster-bed, And there till September I’ll stay.”

[Illustration]

THE OUNCE OF DETENTION

Once a pound-keeper chanced to impound An ounce that was straying around. The pound-keeper straight Was fined for false weight, Since he’d only once ounce in his pound.

THE DE VINNE PRESS, NEW YORK

FOOTNOTES:

[1] At a meeting held at Chickering Hall on the evening of November 12, 1891, to sympathize with Governor Nichols’s war on the Louisiana lottery system, the late Abram S. Hewitt was one of the speakers. In the course of his remarks in denunciation of the lottery gambling in Louisiana, Mr. Hewitt said:

“I can’t find words strong enough to express my feelings regarding this brazen fraud.

“This scheme of plunder develops a weak spot in the government of the United States, which I would not mention were it not for the importance of the issue. We all know that a single State frequently determines the result of a presidential election. The State of Louisiana has determined the result of a presidential election. The vote of that State was offered to me for money, and I declined to buy it. But the vote of that State was sold for money!”

[2] Read before the joint meeting of The American Academy of Arts and Letters and the National Institute of Arts and Letters, December 13, 1912. Now first published.

[3] I doubt if “Winchester,” previously known as “Rienzi,” could have outwalked Sherman’s “Sam,” a terror to staff-officers, General Meade’s “Baldy,” or McClellan’s “Black Dan,” for it was asserted they could all walk five miles an hour.

[4] ~The Century~ for July, 1882.

[5] ~The Century~ for July, 1887.

[6] Federal Reporter, Vol. 110, page 660.

[7] Since this was written a device accomplishing the same purpose has been placed in public service.

[8] Reprinted from “Scribner’s Monthly” (now ~The Century~) for March, 1874.