BY JAMES T. FIELDS

Have you read how Julius Cæsar

Made a call on Cicero

In his modest Formian villa,

Many and many a year ago?

"I shall pass your way," wrote Cæsar,

"On the Saturnalia, Third,

And I'll just drop in, my Tullius,

For a quiet friendly word:

"Don't make a stranger of me, Marc,

Nor be at all put out,

A snack of anything you have

Will serve my need, no doubt.

"I wish to show my confidence--

The invitation's mine--

I come to share your simple food,

And taste your honest wine."

Up rose M. Tullius Cicero,

And seized a Roman punch,--

Then mused upon the god-like soul

Was coming round to lunch.

"By Hercules!" he murmured low

Unto his lordly self,

"There are not many dainties left

Upon my pantry shelf!

"But what I have shall Julius share.

What, ho!" he proudly cried,

"Great Cæsar comes this way anon

To sit my chair beside.

"A dish of lampreys quickly stew,

And cook them with a turn,

For that's his favorite pabulum

From Mamurra I learn."

* * * * *

His slaves obey their lord's command;

The table soon is laid

For two distinguished gentlemen,--

One rather bald, 'tis said.

When lo! a messenger appears

To sound approach--and then,

"Brave Cæsar comes to greet his friend

With _twice a thousand men_!

"His cohorts rend the air with shouts;

That is their dust you see;

The trumpeters announce him near!"

Said Marcus, "Woe is me!

"Fly, Cassius, fly! assign a guard!

Borrow what tents you can!

Encamp his soldiers round the field,

Or I'm a ruined man!

"Get sheep and oxen by the score!

Buy corn at any price!

O Jupiter! befriend me now,

And give me your advice!"

* * * * *

It turned out better than he feared,--

Things proved enough and good,--

And Cæsar made himself at home,

And much enjoyed his food.

But Marcus had an awful fright,--

_That_ can not be denied;

"I'm glad 'tis over!"--when it was--

The host sat down and sighed,

And when he wrote to Atticus,

And all the story told,

He ended his epistle thus:

"J.C.'s a warrior bold,

"A vastly entertaining man,

In Learning quite immense,

So full of literary skill,

And most uncommon sense,

"But, frankly, I should never say

'No trouble, sir, at all;

And when you pass this way again,

_Give us another call!_'"

The Wit and Humor of America, Volume IV. (of X.) · 第 103 / 131 题