And cannot leave them now, so quick.
I patients have who _must_ have care
Before _I_ leave for better fare.
"Now True, my dear, I'll be your own;
I'll make you an ever happy home;
I feel Pa's oft' spoke words are true,
Trueman's your name, _True Man_ are you."
He pressed her closely to his breast:
To dry her tears he did his best;
Then gently kissed her burning cheeks
And bade her wait but a few weeks.
The happiest man in all the land
Was True. St. Lawrence, with trembling hand,
Who then returned to his rooms rich,
A restless night to roll and pitch
Upon a bed of faultless down,
But pains of heart it could not drown.
He lay and mused throughout the night,
'Cause his future now looked bright.
_Sarah_ Waddington and her mother
Prepared a party for another.
A gent they wished to entertain,
'Cause Sarah wished to bear his name.
"It is to be a swell affair,
So she could safely set her snare
To catch the unsuspecting True,
Because he loves and loves but you."
So spake the mother to her child,
Who seemed delighted--almost wild--
To think that she could play her part
Without remorse or pain at heart.
The time rolled on, and days were spent
In fixing up for the event;
The rich were called from every side
To see Sarah--the would-be bride.
She sent a most bewitching note
For Dr. 'Lawrence to cast the vote,
Who'd be the Belle of honor, bright,
To bear the graces of the night.
The Doctor smiled, as he sat down
To answer it, without a frown;
And faithfully he did outline,
In characters most cute and fine:
"My choice is one, and only one;
And now I've written and 'tis done!
As sure as I'm my father's son,
'Tis one--fair _Sadie_ Waddington!
"And now, before it is too late,
There's one request I have to make:
That I be granted then, or sooner,
To be escort to the maid of honor."
"Your request is at once granted,
And hope we'll become enchanted;
And with your presence'll be elated,
Because, it seems, we are related".
Fair Sarah, then, did make it known
(Real quietly about her home)
That she and 'Lawrence, raised side by side,
Would soon become both groom and bride.
Silks and diamonds bought with gold,
Gotten from the kine she'd sold
'Way back in the Empire State,
Where poor Sadie met her fate.
Just one week before the eve'
When he Sarah would deceive,
Trueman went to see his love,
Who was pretty as a dove.
"Sadie," said he, "sweet is revenge!
Let us now your labor change.
The ones who drove you to your fate,
Away back in the Empire State,
"Are here in Paris this long time,
And live in luxury sublime.
The gold they got from off your kine,
It goes for suppers and for wine.
"In holy wedlock let us wed,
I'll lead you to a bridal bed;
And then in luxury and state
We'll 'tend the ball ere 'tis too late".
I'll humble them in dust and shame!
Ah, Sadie, you were not to blame!
_We'll_ make them wish they'd never sold
Your goods and kine for glittering gold!
"Come, darling, now we'll off today,
The bridal knot to firmly tie.
Then I your graceful swanlike neck
With pearls and rubys will bedeck.
"I'll trim your lovely graceful form
With richest satin to be worn:
I'll place upon your tapered hand
A solitaire, set in gold band.
"Your dainty feet encased in kid
Of dainty styles, they're only made
For those who're called the name of Queens,
And bought by those who have vast means.
"Then to the ball we'll proudly go,
(And who we'll meet I do not know,)
I'll there present to every one
My bride, _true_ Sadie Waddington.
"The shock, so sudden, will be great;
They'll quail beneath their hearts own hate
Of being there exposed to all;
Oh, won't it be an awful fall?
"Come, Sadie dear, revenge is sweet!
Now is our chance to get your mete
Which they have held from you so long,
And did you such a cruel wrong."
Then Sadie spoke: "Trueman, my dear,
There's naught I know for me to fear.
Revenge _is_ sweet, although 'tis queer,
Revenge I get in Paris here."
They carried out their little plot,
And never skipped a single jot.
The eve was fine, the folk were gay,
And not a thing stood in their way.
It was quite late when they arrived
At the mansion of the would-be bride.
As soon as Doctor stepped in sight,
Escorting Sadie--his delight--
Sarah saw the graceful form
And, with one scream, she left the room,
And fell fainting to the floor.
They gently laid her on the couch
Before the open door.
Her mother came in haste to see
What all the trouble there could be,
And did not see the Doctor's bride
Until she was close by her side.
And when she saw it was too late,
She gasped: "Oh, Sarah's met her fate,"
Then fell into a deathly state.
The mother swooned and swooned away
The entire night and most the day;
And then the Doctor came to say,
"Her life is run, she cannot stay!"
Sadie, with trained and skillful hand,
Nursed Sarah back to conscious-land;
Did faithfully the watchword keep
While often o'er them she did weep.
And, just before the mother died,
She Sadie called to her bedside
And begged her to full pardon give
For cruel wrong she did receive.
Sadie, always so good and true,
Said she always thought she knew
That the grand day would surely come
When that great wrong would be undone.
She granted full, complete pardon
For all the wrongs the dame had done,
And then she spoke kind words of cheer
Into the madam's dying ear.
With firm-set eyes and drooping chin
The madame grasped and tried to cling
Unto the hand she once did scorn,
And drove from home at break of morn.
She then was wrapt in eternal death,
And from her soul came not a breath.
In casket pure as driven snow
Unto the churchyard she did go,
And there was laid beneath the clay
To await Jehovah's Judgment Day.
All lands and goods and gold and kine
She left behind for endless time!
Poor Sarah! doomed to awful fate,
Her mind was left in ruined state;
In raving madness and in strife
She tried to take our Sadie's life.
The best physicians in the land
Were summoned forth on every hand
To try and bring her from the strife
Back to the land of happy life.
Off to an asylum she must go,
'Cause 'twas not safe to leave her so;
And with good care she might regain
And be relieved from mental pain.
Salome, our faithful lass and bride,
Resolved to stay by Sarah's side
And help her regain her lost mind,
And comfort for her she would find.
Nine weeks were spent in mad-house fare,
Salome bestowing tender care
Upon the one who once did face
Salome in all her dire disgrace.
When Doctor St. Lawrence saw his wife
Was bent on battling for the life
Of one who was once her mad foe,
He said: "All right, it shall be so."
Salome, she clung unto her charge,
As if she were her dearest friend;
She incurred expenses somewhat large
To treat her patient to the end.
The Doctor soon began to learn
His bride and wife would never spurn
The one who once her home did take,
And drove her off for mere pride's sake.
He asked Salome what she would do
In case that Sarah did pull through,
And once again her mind regain
Before they crossed the raging main.
Salome did quickly make reply,
While glistening tears stood in her eye:
"I'll take her to old Empire State,
Right to the door where I met fate!
"I'll make her happy, if I can,
And now I'll form my little plan:
We must, dear True, just do our best,
And fix her up in a cosy nest.
"We will give her a little home
On the beautiful mountain side;
We will find her a handsome lover
Who'll be proud to call her his bride.
"We will give them all attention
That the best of friends could do;
We will _return good for evil_,
'Cause my mother taught me so.
"Let us show that true religion
Is the life we ought to live,
And the ways that Christ rejoiced in
Are the ways to which we cleave.
"Oh, my husband, dearest Trueman,
I believe in Sarah reigns
The true principle of goodness--
Let us fan that spark to flames.
"Can I now secure her safely,
Teach her shun her evil ways
And discard that haughty spirit
That she learned in younger days,
"I will be the happiest mortal
Ever lived on mother earth,
And will reach that heavenly portal
Only reached by second birth."
After coaxing, begging, teasing,
Sarah consented for to go
Back across the ocean, raging,
Where her childhood seeds did sow.
When they reached the harbor safely,
Bag and baggage on the truck,
They cast lots to see what steamer
They would choose for their good luck.
Doctor got the choice of vessels,
And he quickly did decide
That the City of St. Paris
Should take their _protege_ and his bride.
Safely in the vessel's cabin,
Housed in cosy stateroom there,
All were ready for the voyage,
And did look for cheerful fare.
Out upon the briny billows,
Just three days and nights, 'twas said,
When the night was dark and dreary,
Trueman rose from sleepless bed.
There was something weighed upon him,
Something whispered to beware;
He dressed and went upon the deck
To breathe the crisp sea air.
He paced and paced the vessel's deck
With long and manly stride;
He went from starboard o'er to port
And back to starboard side.
He'd been upon the deck some time,
And peered into the gloom
As if them something overawed
And threatened them with doom.
At last, to port, he spied a fleck,
A dancing on the waves,
And there he plainly saw a deck
Bedecked with pirate knaves.
The vessel, with a dark-hued hull,
Bore straightway on its course,
When, "_Hard to port! To port! to port!_"
Rang out a voice real coarse.
The strange boat glided swiftly on,
Like a ghost on phantom wings,
While the crisp sea breeze went dancing past
And through her rigging sings.
The strange boat slipped along, across
The briny billows white,
And their steamer ploughed and labored hard
Along its renewed flight.
It was a close and dangerous call,
Because the night was dark;
Had they collided there, on the ocean bare,
They'd went down with their bark.
The voyage, then, to Gotham
Was stormy and quite rough,
And all agreed, when landed,
That they had quite enough.
They then all took the railroad train
North, through the Empire State,
And soon were on the mountain side
Where Sadie met her fate.
The first place Sadie wished to see
Was graves of father and mother,
And tripping lightly from the yard,
She passed out with another.
That bitter morn, with memories fresh,
When from her home she'd fled,
She was scorned by one _now_ too glad
To lead her on ahead.
When she approached her mother's grave
The tears rolled thick and fast,
And by her side poor Sarah stood,
With memories of the past
A fitting through her guilty mind:
And then she spoke at last:
"Oh, Sadie, Sadie, what a blot
Upon my mother's past;
It stings within my guilty heart,
And would to God I now could part
With half the pain I feel--
The balm of Christ could scarcely heal."
She stooped, and silently did press
Her fresh and rosy lips
Upon the little mound of grass
"Beneath--dear mother sleeps."
Then Sarah, with most tender words,
Pressed Sadie to her breast
And with a fervent, heartfelt plea,
Prayed both them to be blest.
When they returned unto their home,
Their friendship sealed with silent love,
They could not bear to be alone;
They felt a power from up above.
Old friends and neighbors, with delight,
Called on the Doctor and his bride,
And there convened, on the first night,
A host of friends who're on their side.
There's one among them old and gray,
Who'd lived right there for all his life;
'Tis the elder man and sage, St. Lawrence,
And he smiles upon the Doctor's wife.
Heir to the Waddington estate,
Sadie reigns the queen of all;
Her friendship for Sarah was great,
And sister her did often call.
The Doctor chose to spend his life
Upon the handsome mountain side
With Sadie, his true loving wife,
And Father St. Lawrence until he died.
Time rolled around and months flew by;
Sadie and Sarah, hand in hand,
Sealed by the firmest friendship tie,
Two of the truest in the land.
There chanced to stroll from distant clime
A bright young man of Sadie's kin;
Came to visit in Summer time,
And Sarah was introduced to him.
Sadie tried her best to make a match,
And championed well her cause;
Sarah viewed it as a catch
That one very seldom draws.
Though 'twas but a short acquaintance,
Still the wedding time was fixed;
The intended groom had patience,
'Cause he felt he was not rich.
Sadie, sweet as dewy honey,
Wishing that her friends should wed,
Proffered home and lands and money
If the word would just be said.
"I am heir to all this fortune,
Known as Waddington's estate;
Come, now, Sarah; come, now, Hawthorne,
Join your hearts ere 'tis too late.
"I will give to you a large farm
Yonder on the mountain side;
I will give you kine and money,
If you'll be my cousin's bride."
Sarah spake, with dewy eyelids,
To the one she loved so dear:
"Sadie, I am anything but worthy
Of this princely gift, to cheer
"My poor broken, wicked heart,
After I have been so bad;
You should never take _my_ part,
Since _I_ took that which _you_ had."
Yet Sadie, true to her own passion,
Promised deed in fee for all,
If Sarah would wed her own cousin,
Ere the Summer ran to Fall.
So the wedding day was fixed
When the two should be made one,
And their home, as she predicted,
Would be deeded as their own.
When at last the nuptial greeting
Was received on every hand,
The sage, St. Lawrence, came to their meeting,
The last one left of their quartet band.
The wedding knot was duly tied,
And the folk were feeling gay;
They were now made happy groom and bride,
Starting out in life's pathway.
When the ceremony was over,
And the gifts they were bestowing--
Bridal gifts as sweet as clover--
Sadie, with her rich hair flowing,
Called the old 'Squire of the city
That to witness of her signing
The transfer of title fair,
To the land that lay up there;
When, to her surprise and chagrin,
Father St. Lawrence, with gentle voice,
Told her that she could not bargain,
For she had not even choice.
"Now, my daughter, not one farthing
Of this vast and rich estate
Has been left unto True's darling,
Now, I tell you, 'tis not too late.
"All this land you tho't was yours
By inheritance of your blood,
Was bequeathed by your dear father
To one you never thought he would".
Now, I've brought the Judge of Probate
As an honored guest of _mine_,
That he might reveal the truth,
That it might be writ in rhyme.
Then, to soothe the disappointment,
The old judge with silvery hair
Drew from 'neath his outer garment,
Two old papers kept with care.
One was read by him to Sadie,
Where her father had endowed
All his lands, and kine and money
On the one who made her proud.
When this document was ended,
And was handed to Trueman,
The old sage, St. Lawrence, pretended
That he enjoyed youth again.
"Read, Judge! read your other paper!
Tell my daughter here the truth;
Tell her what their anxious fathers
Did for them while in their youth."
When the document was ended,
With tears showering down her face,
Sadie, kisses, sweetly blended,
While she held him in embrace.
Long their fortunes had been blended
By the signatures alone
Of their fathers in their child days,
As they played around their home.
"True, my dear; O will you come here?
Sign this deed! Come quick, O do;
Carry out my simple wishes;
Sarah is my friend, so true."
"Yes, my darling, this with pleasure
I will do, to please you all;
It is my most pleasant leisure
To do bidding at your call."
So, the deed of gift was given,
And in happiness they'd start;
From that home they'd ne'er be driven,
Life anew to never part.
There in happiness and comfort
Did they live upon the place
Where the evil of proud passion
Smothered one in dire disgrace.
Happy was Salome and Trueman
When they saw their _protege_ safe
In the hands of Cousin Hawthorne,
On the Waddington old place.
Safe within the coils of homelife,
Safe within the cottage walls,
Safely with a trusting husband,
Safe within their friendly calls.
Thus the vengeance of our Hero
Was full spent to meet her theme;
Yet so different from a Nero,
Because she knew she could redeem.
Salome's revenge was to her sweet,
'Cause she'd conquered, not cut down;
Now she feared no one to meet,
Nor would any wear a frown.
Though some years had been so bitter,
And had fraught such cruel pain;
Now the coldest of the winter
Seemed like flowery beds of green.
Now, away up on the mountains,
In the well known Empire State,
Sadie Waddington is living
In sweet REVENGE, where she met fate.
[Illustration]
_A TRIBUTE TO CAPT. GEORGE W. HESS._
BY G. W. VAN WEIGHS.
Almost a decade thou hast battled with a patriot's band,
Whose first duty is devotion to their native land;
And no comrade but is willing, with a ready mind,
To declare thee brave and loyal to all mankind.
In thy country's hour of peril, on the battle field,
Thou wert ever more than willing all her rights to shield,
And, with true and loyal purpose, battled for the right,
Till secession's traitorous banner sunk in endless night!
Duty's path to thee is glory, glory easy won;
For a task so oft repeated is quite easy done;
Yet no one can ever chide, for thy generous heart
Ne'er will crush the poor and helpless with oppression's dart.
Every prisoner knows and likes thee, for thy friendly ways
Must attract their close attention and excite their praise;
And the few who know thee better, as a man of heart,
Would desire no nobler mission than to take thy part.
May you live in peace and plenty, happy with your own,
Till Jehovah's love shall gather 'round His august throne
All who, like you, honest comrade, follows heaven's plan
And respects the rules of virtue and the rights of man.
[Illustration]
_MY LAWYER._
When grappled in the law's embrace,
Who first betrayed an anxious face
And fain would shield me from disgrace?
My Lawyer.
Who told me I should not confess,
That he would all my wrongs redress
And set me free from all distress?
My Lawyer.
When, sick in jail, I senseless lay,
Who took my watch and case away,
Lest prowling thieves on me should prey?
My Lawyer.
Who to my wealth tenacious clung,
And for me wagged his oily tongue,
And at my foes hot embers flung?
My Lawyer.
Who told me he was dreadful smart
And knew the law-books all by heart,
And always took his client's part?
My Lawyer.
Who, in the court, with peerless pride,
My rights affirmed, my guilt denied,
And swore the State's attorney lied?
My Lawyer.
And when twelve men, in one compound,
For me a guilty verdict found,
Who came to stanch the bleeding wound?
My Lawyer.
Who said my time within the wall
Would be exceeding brief and small,
The minimum, or none at all?
My Lawyer.
And when the judge my doom proclaimed,
And three long years of exile named,
Who looked indignant and ashamed?
My Lawyer.
When, at the sheriff's stern command,
I for the train was told to stand,
Who longest shook and squeezed my hand?
My Lawyer.
Who, when he had me safe confined,
No more concerned his crafty mind,
Nor was, for me, to grief inclined?
My Lawyer.
Who closed the mortgage on my lot,
And drove my family from my cot,
And left them homeless on the spot?
My Lawyer.
Who, when of prison clothes I'm stripped,
And from these walls am homeward shipped,
Will get himself immensely whipped?
My Lawyer.
[Written by Mr. George Gilbert, who died on the 9th of June, A. D.
1890.]
[Illustration]
_A SAD WARNING._
BY GEO. W. H. HARRISON.
In prison cell, at early twilight,
Smoking Foesters "Best Cigar,"
Sat a convict, little dreaming
Aught his perfect bliss could mar.
Round the cell-block, slowly ambling,
Came a "Screw," on mischief bent,
And his wide, expanded nostrils
Quickly inhaled the welcome scent.
Wave on wave, thro' latticed iron,
Smoky clouds rose thick and high,
And the happy convict murmured:
"Go, ye cloudlets, greet the sky!"
But the cloudlets, incense laden,
Lingered near the oaken floor,
Till the "Screw," with cat-like motion,
Stood before the smoker's door.
In the spittoon, charred and sputtering,
Lay the smoker's joy and pride;
And the "Screw," exultant, murmured:
"Stackhouse will _this case_ decide."
Morning dawned. The "cellar agent"
Bore the trembling wretch away
To a cellar, cold and gloomy,
Where the tools of torture lay.
Blows and shrieks alternate sounded,
And a voice from near the floor
Murmured: "Stackhouse! MERCY! MERCY!!
P-l-e-a-s-e, sir; _I will smoke no more_!"
From the cellar, shorn and shaven,
Skulked the cowering "con." away;
And he smokes--but, Oh! how watchful
Is that victim, who can say?
All ye inmates, take the warning,
Gushing from a brother's heart:
He who smokes within these portals
For the dire offense _may_ smart!
[Illustration]
_ACROSTIC TO J. C. LANGENBERGER, CAPTAIN OF THE O. P. NIGHT
WATCH._
BY G. W. VAN WEIGHS.
Just to all men, to all men kind and true;
Conspicuous as a giant yet comely to the view;
Loved by all who know him, trusted everywhere;
Always more than willing to ease his fellow's care;
Never harsh or cruel, never false or base;
Going in and coming out among those in disgrace,
Earning from each prisoner's heart the meed of honest praise;
None condemn his actions, none despise his ways;
By his children reverenced, by his wife adored;
Every friend is welcome at his ample board;
Rich in all that makes a _man_, poor alone in hate;
God of Mercy bless the man who nightly guards our fate;
Ever may he fill the post that wisdom has assigned,
Ruling all, as now he does, by strength of heart and mind.
_SHE LOVES ME YET._
BY GEO. W. H. HARRISON.
Amid the cares and griefs of life,
One precious thought I'll ne'er forget,
I have a fond and faithful wife,
For darling Lulu loves me yet.
The bitterest pang that earth can give
Can never make my soul regret
The fact that I on earth can live,
While Lulu says she loves me yet.
The sweetest joy my heart could know
Would prove a diamond yet unset,
Whose radiant light could never glow,
Like this sweet thought, "She loves me yet."
Should grief deluge my troubled soul
Till every hour some care beset,
I could defy its stern control
While murmuring, "Lulu loves me yet."
Should every friend I have on earth
Each vow of loyalty forget,
I could survive the cruel blow,
Since darling Lulu loves me yet.
Should earth with one accord combine,
Sweet Lulu's influence to beset,
It would not change my constant mind,
If I but felt "She loves me yet."
I care no sweeter boon in life,
Nor will my heart its choice regret;
I only long to meet that wife
Who truly says she loves me yet.
_ACROSTIC TRIBUTE TO HARRY SMITH._
BY G. W. VAN WEIGHS.
He is like the god, Appollo, when in days of old
All the hearts of Greece could conquer, yet despised their gold.
Rich in manhood, health and youth, he is ever free
Ready to assist his brother whatsoever his need may be.
You can trust him freely, fully, with your love or gold,
Since his love of truth and honor never can grow cold.
May he ever do his duty and to all be kind,
It is but the noble hearted who can rule the mind,
Trusting, still, his love of country and his love for man,
He may rest assured Heaven will endorse his plan.
_THE PHANTOM BOAT._
BY GEO. W. H. HARRISON.
Two lovers once sat dreaming
Of scenes o'ergrown by years;
Sweet Daisy's eyes were eloquent
With girlhood's pleading tears;
Her little hand was lying
Confidingly in mine,
While her silvery voice pleaded:
"Dear one, awake the Nine!"
"Yes, darling, I will rhyme for you;
What legend shall I drew!
Shall I now fold you in my arms
And, drifting down life's stream,
'Mid singing birds and nodding flowers,
Pour forth my soul in love--
In accents soft and tender--
As the cooing of a dove"?
Or shall I tell you, dearest one,
Why yonder's rippling stream
First gained the name "Tululah"
In an age that's now a dream?
Well, now, pillow your head upon my breast,
The legend is weird and wild;
I fear me much its harrowing scenes
Will shock, thee, gentle child.
Will you listen, while we're watching
For the far-famed Phantom Boat?
Perhaps the tale will lead us
To catch the first faint note
Of Tululah's wondrous music
As she floats down this stream,
For, I assure you, darling,
This legend is no dream.
Where now we sit, in days gone by,
The stealthy panther crept,
And bears and wolves in horrid hordes
Their tireless vigils kept;
Turkey, deer and beaver
Were scattered far and wide,
And here the lordly savage stalked
_In all his pristine pride_;
The Creeks then ruled this forest,
From Suwanee to the sea;--
A haughty, bold and cruel race,
Cunning, treacherous, wild and free!
To hunt and fish, and boast and fight
Were the duties of a brave,
While woman--alas! sweet woman
Was but a cowering slave!