"Give me thy strong hand; fain would I cling, comrade, te thee; I feel a chill air blown from a far-off shore; My sight revives; Death stands and looks at me. "Keep back my ebbing pulse till I be bolder grown; Comrade, thy hand. "The reveille calls! be strong my soul, and peaceful; The Eternal City bursts upon my sight! The ringing air with ravishing melody is full I've won the fight! Nay, comrade, let me go; hold not my hand so steadfast; I know the Future-let the Past be past- ANGER AND ENUMERATION.-JAMES M. BAILEY. "THE DANBURY NEWS MAN." A Danbury man named Reubens, recently saw a statemen that counting one hundred when tempted to speak an angry word would save a man a great deal of trouble. This statement sounded a little singular at first, but the more he read it over the more favorably he became impressed with it, and finally concluded to adopt it. Next door to Reubens lives a man who has made five dis tinct attempts in the past fortnight to secure a dinner of green peas, by the first of July, and every time has been retarded by Reuben's hens. The next morning after Reubens made his resolution this man found his fifth attempt to have miscarried. Then he called on Reubens. He said,"What in thunder do you mean by letting your hens tear up my garden?” Reubens was prompted to call him a mud-snoot, a new name just coming into general use, but he remembered his reso lution, put down his rage, and meckly observed,— "One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight—” Then the mad neighbor who had been eyeing this answer with a great deal of suspicion, broke in again,— "Why don't you answer my question, you rascal?” But still Reubens maintained his equanimity, and went on with the test. "Nine ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen-" The mad neighbor stared harder than ever. "Seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty, twenty-one-" "You're a mean skunk," said the mad neighbor, backing toward the fence. Reubens's face flushed at this charge, but he only said,"Twenty-two, twenty-three, twenty-four, twenty-five, twenty-six-" At this figure the neighbor got up on the fence in some haste, but suddenly thinking of his peas, he opened his mouth, "You mean, low-lived rascal; for two cents I could knock your cracked head over a barn, and would—” "Twenty-seven, twenty-eight," interrupted Reubens, "twenty-nine, thirty, thirty-one, thirty-two, thirty-three--" Here the neighbor broke for the house, and entering it violently slammed the door behind him; but Reubens did not dare let up on the enumeration, and so he stood out there alone in his own yard, and kept on counting, while his burning cheeks and flashing eyes eloquently affirmed his judgment. When he got up into the eighties his wife came to the door in some alarm. "Why, Reubens, man, what is the matter with you?" she said. "Do come into the house." But he didn't let up. She came out to him, and clung remblingly to him, but he only looked into her eyes, and said,— "Ninety-three, ninety-four, ninety-five, ninety-six, ninetyseven, ninety-eight, ninety-nine, one hundred-go into the house, old woman, or I'll bust ye." And she went. FFF THE SHADOW ON THE WALL. There is a shadow on the wall, I strive to shut it from my sight, But conscience tells me it is there; I kneel beside my bed at night Nor heart-nor tongue-can utter prayer; I wander, listless, through the street, There, many a well-known face I meet- It is her shadow that I see. Her shadow! Oh, so young and fair! My heart too black for her to share; How many years! how many years * * * * We stood upon the river's edge, The sunlight on its petals shone; I might have rushed into the flood- Saved him that she might be his bride? I turned from her appealing eyes, She called on Heaven and me to save: "I come to thee, belov'd, I come Since other aid has been denied― I know not how I drew her out, For I was maddened by my grief; All night I lingered near her door, And met their looks of silent woe: Oh, how I longed that voice to hear, When weary night withdrew her shroud, I stole amid the tearful crowd. That near the loved one's chamber flocked: How could I dare to stand among Those bleeding hearts-that stricken throng? They let me pass without a word, To warn me back ward no one stirred; I came and stood beside her bed- Her lover's rescue from the grave: It rings forever in my ear, "Twill haunt me downward to the grave: But when I've left this world of strife- Dissolve before the Eternal Day- DRINK! DRINK! DRINK!-LOUISE S. UPHAM. Drink! drink! drink! And feel hunger, and want, and strife, And the wild despair of a drunkard's heart, And his God-forsaken life! There was once a happy home, And a smile that cheered you on; But a sad heart broke at the drunkard's curse, Oh well for the drunkard's child, If with his mother he lie, Beneath the turf that covers the mold, Where the daisies look up to the sky! For with ribaldry, jest, and shout, The cup to the brim is filled, Though he sigh, as he drinks, for a vanished form, And a voice that his passion has stilled. Drink! drink! drink! Till you've never a home or friend! And drink till with liquor your brain is crazed, Then in madness your life shall end! |