The Wit and Humor of America, Volume VI. (of X.) by Marshall P. Wilder (read novels website TXT) 📖
- Author: Marshall P. Wilder
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"They're not going to lower him with those cords, are they?"
It was a stage-whisper from the darkness which spake thus.[Pg 1161]
"Oh, I guess it's safe enough!" said another, in the same sort of agitated whisper.
"Safe!" was the reply. "I tell you, it's sure to break! Some one stop 'em—"
To the heart of the martyred Stevens these words struck panic. But as he opened his mouth to protest, the catastrophe occurred. There was a snap, and the toboggan shot downward. Bound as he was, the victim could see below him a brick wall right across the path of his descent. He was helpless to move; it was useless to cry out. For all that, as he felt in imagination the crushing shock of his head driven like a battering-ram against this wall, he uttered a roar such as from Achilles might have roused armed nations to battle. And even as he did so, his head touched the wall, there was a crash, and Stevens lay safe on a mattress after his ten-foot slide, surrounded by fragments of red-and-white paper which had lately been a wall. He was pale and agitated, and generally done for; but tremendously relieved when he had assured himself of the integrity of his cranium. This he did by repeatedly feeling of his head, and looking at his fingers for sanguinary results. As Amidon looked at him, he repented of what he had done to this thoroughly maltreated fellow man. After the Catacombs scene, which was supposed to be impressive, and some more of the "secret" work, everybody crowded about Stevens, now invested with the collar and "jewel" of Martyrhood, and laughed, and congratulated him as on some great achievement, while he looked half-pleased and half-bored. Amidon, with the rest, greeted him, and told him that after his vacation was over, he hoped to see him back at the office.
"That was a fine exemplification of the principles of the Order," said Alvord as they went home.[Pg 1162]
"What was?" said Amidon.
"Hiring old Stevens back," answered Alvord. "You've got to live your principles, or they don't amount to much."
"Suppose some fellow should get into a lodge," asked Amidon, "who had never been initiated?"
"Well," said Alvord, "there isn't much chance of that. I shouldn't dare to say. You can't tell what the fellows would do when such sacred things were profaned, you know. You couldn't tell what they might do!"[Pg 1163]
THE WILD BOARDER[9] BY KENYON COXYou may not much care for his face;
But a twenty-yard dash,
When he hears the word "hash,"
He can take at a wonderful pace.
[Pg 1164]
DE GRADUAL COMMENCE BY WALLACE BRUCE AMSBARYMy ches' wid proud expan',
I feel de bes' I evere feel,
An' over all dis lan'
Dere's none set op so moch as me;
You'll know w'en I am say
My leddle daughter Madeline
Is gradual to-day.
Dat I am evere know,
I'm fin' dis out, de teacher, he
Is tol' me dat is so;
She is so smart dat she say t'ings
I am no understan',
She is know more dan any one
Dat leeve on ol' Ste. Anne.
Down at de gr'ad beeg hall,
W'ere plaintee peopl' can gat seat
For dem to see it all.
De School Board wid dere president,
Dey sit opon front row,
Dey look so stiff an' dignify,
For w'at I am not know.[Pg 1165]
Dey're on de stage, you see,
In semi-cirque dat face de peop',
Some scare as dey can be;
Den wan of dem dey all mak' spe'k,
Affer de nodder's t'roo,
Dis tak' dem 'bout t'ree hour an' half
De hull t'ing for to do.
Mos' beautiful to see,
In nice w'ite drass, my wife he buy
Overe to Kankakee.
An' when she rise to mak' de spe'k
How smart she look on face,
Dey all expec' somet'ing dey hear,
Dere's hush fall on de place.
How raise beeg familee;
She tell it all so smood an' plain
Dat you can't help but see;
An' how she learn her all of dat
Ees more dan I can say,
But she is know it, for she talk
In smartes' kind of way.
De sheepskin he geeve 'way;
Dey're all nice print opon dem,
An' dis is w'at dey say:
"To dem dat is concern' wid dese
Presents you onderstan'
De h'owner dese; is gradual
At High School on Ste. Anne."[Pg 1166]
She ees know all about
De world an' how to mak' it run
From inside to de out;
For dis is one de primere t'ings
W'at she is learn, you see,
Dat long beeg word I can pronounce,
It's call philosophee.
Ver' proud an' puff op so,
To hav' a daughter like dis wan
Dat's everyt'ing she know.
No wonder dat I gat beeg head,
My hat's too small, dey say—
Ma leddle daughter Madeline
Is gradual to-day.
[Pg 1167] ABOU BEN BUTLER BY JOHN PAUL
Awoke one night from a deep bottledness,
And saw, by the rich radiance of the moon,
Which shone and shimmered like a silver spoon,
A stranger writing on a golden slate
(Exceeding store had Ben of spoons and plate),
And to the stranger in his tent he said:
"Your little game?" The stranger turned his head,
And, with a look made all of innocence,
Replied: "I write the name of Presidents."
"And is mine one?" "Not if this court doth know
Itself," replied the stranger. Ben said, "Oh!"
And "Ah!" but spoke again: "Just name your price
To write me up as one that may be Vice."
He came again, and showed a wondrous sight
Of names that haply yet might fill the chair—
But, lo! the name of Butler was not there!
[Pg 1168] LATTER-DAY WARNINGS BY OLIVER WENDELL HOLMES
When banks dispense with bolts and locks,—
When berries—whortle, rasp, and straw—
Grow bigger downwards through the box,—
Shows leak in roof or flaw in right,—
When haberdashers choose the stand
Whose window hath the broadest light,—
And party leaders all they mean,—
When what we pay for, that we drink,
From real grape and coffee-bean,—
And doctors give what they would take,—
When city fathers eat to live,
Save when they fast for conscience' sake,—
Shall bring his merit to the proof,
Without a lie for every nail
That holds the iron on the hoof,—[Pg 1169]
Our gloves are stitched with special care,
And guarded well the whalebone tips
Where first umbrellas need repair,—
The power of suction to resist,
And claret-bottles harbor not
Such dimples as would hold your fist,—
And pay for what they stole before,—
When the first locomotive's wheel
Rolls through the Hoosac tunnel's bore;—
And Miller's saints blow up the globe;
But when you see that blessed day,
Then order your ascension robe!
[Pg 1170] IT PAYS TO BE HAPPY[10] BY TOM MASSON
And not by fits and starts,
But ever, through each livelong day
She's sunshine to all hearts.
So wondrous is her power
That listening grief would stop and chaff
With her from hour to hour.
Grows dim, begins to fade.
A Christian scientist, meanwhile,
Is this delightful maid.
And be like unto her,
When happiness brings, as her share,
One hundred dollars per ——?
[Pg 1171]
JAMES AND REGINALD BY EUGENE FIELDOnce upon a Time there was a Bad boy whose Name was Reginald and there was a Good boy whose Name was James. Reginald would go Fishing when his Mamma told him Not to, and he Cut off the Cat's Tail with the Bread Knife one Day, and then told Mamma the Baby had Driven it in with the Rolling Pin, which was a Lie. James was always Obedient, and when his Mamma told him not to Help an old Blind Man across the street or Go into a Dark Room where the Boogies were, he always Did What She said. That is why they Called him Good James. Well, by and by, along Came Christmas. Mamma said, You have been so Bad, my son Reginald, you will not Get any Presents from Santa Claus this Year; but you, my son James, will get Oodles of Presents, because you have Been Good. Will you Believe it, Children, that Bad boy Reginald said he didn't Care a Darn and he Kicked three Feet of Veneering off the Piano just for Meanness. Poor James was so sorry for Reginald that he cried for Half an Hour after he Went to Bed that Night. Reginald lay wide Awake until he saw James was Asleep and then he Said if these people think they can Fool me, they are Mistaken. Just then Santa Claus came down the Chimney. He had Lots of Pretty Toys in a Sack on his Back. Reginald shut his Eyes and Pretended to be Asleep. Then Santa Claus Said, Reginald is Bad and I will not Put any nice Things in his Stocking. But[Pg 1172] as for you, James, I will Fill your Stocking Plum full of Toys, because You are Good. So Santa Claus went to Work and Put, Oh! heaps and Heaps of Goodies in James' stocking, but not a Sign of a Thing in Reginald's stocking. And then he Laughed to himself and Said I guess Reginald will be Sorry to-morrow because he Was so Bad. As he said this he Crawled up the chimney and rode off in his Sleigh. Now you can Bet your Boots Reginald was no Spring Chicken. He just Got right Straight out of Bed and changed all those Toys and Truck from James' stocking into his own. Santa Claus will Have to Sit up all Night, said He, when he Expects to get away with my Baggage. The next morning James got out of Bed and when He had Said his Prayers he Limped over to his Stocking, licking his
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