Chapter 7

So when 'tis near night-fall we take the short car {335} That off through West Fourth Street goes winding afar, And away to the Hudson, almost, we shall find A lone-seeming tenement cuddled behind Huge heaps of fresh lumber so piney and sweet, While everything round there is charmingly neat.-- Yes, the children are home and as gay as a lark, While the good mother greets us with pleasure;--but hark! A baby-cry comes from the bedroom beyond, And Jenny brings forth a sweet, sunny-haired blonde, Saying: "This is the something we wanted to show you, This two-years-old baby-girl--why, does she know you? She holds out her hands to go to you so soon!" "Ah! she feels we are friendly;--hear now her soft croon. But how came she here, child?" "We found her just over The lumber-yard fence, with a board for a cover, Wrapped up in a blanket marked Bertha." "But why Do you not to the charity mission apply?" "O, we want her ourselves! And the good Lord, through you, {336} Has given us this home, so what else should we do, Than to keep what He sends? And we're sure He sent Berty, In place of our baby that died, little Myrtie!"

And here these poor people, so poor they were starving When I found them a few months ago, were now halving Their food and their home with this waif and with Benny-- For he was an orphan child left by his granny, Who died in an attic just over their room, In the tumble-down house they before-time called home; Though they've four of their own, and the eldest is Jenny, The little street-sweep who would not take the penny, Yet they say, "Benny seems quite as much to belong here, And be one of our children, as if he were born here."

O, how many rich homes where no child is given, Might be made, for poor orphans, an opening to Heaven! {337} And how many, poorer, might seem to be rich, With a benny or Bertha to fill up the niche That is left 'neath the hundreds of home-roofs all over. Which the Lord has designed some poor orphan shall cover; For He makes His home where His children are moored,-- And brings in His wealth where they live by His word; And the meal and the oil there shall never be spent;-- What we give to the poor, to the Lord we have lent. A baby to feed, is a baby to love, A child in the house, "a well-spring" from above,-- And never forsaken, and ne'er begging bread, Shall be those who take care that His lambs are well fed.

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_THE HERE, THERE AND EVERYWHERE FAMILY._

Z

I am always in a buzz, Though I'm never in a fret, But I'm ever with a zealot in his zeal; I am in the zephyr-breath, Yet with zest have often met The zero mark that brings the ice-man weal.

Y

I've to do with the yoke, but not with the ox; I help every priest in his prayer; I am new every year, and in four months appear, While I yield to the yeoman a share.

X

I live in a Lexicon, I mark half a score; I ride with a Mexican, In Texas, for lore,

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W

I am in every wing, yet I'm not in a dove; I wait in the swing to be tossed up above. I live in the woods, and I perch on the wall; I am in the wild waves, though I sail in a yawl.

V

I am mingled with your victuals, yet 'm never in your mouth; I always lead the van and must forever stem the wave; I grow in every gravel bed, East, West, or North, or South, And although I'm with the living, you will find me in the grave.

U

I live in the urn, but not in the vase, I always can run, but I never can race. I tumble and jump, but I can't hop nor skip; I hide in your mouth, but I ne'er touch your lip.

T

I'm doubled up in a patty-pan, Yet I never saw a pie; I hide in the boy's first pair of boots, Nor pass his mittens by.

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S

I am always in sadness, yet never know grief; Then, too, I'm in gladness, which gives me relief. I know not the ocean, but swim in the sea, And the stars and the sunshine were not, but for me.

R

I live at both ends of a river, My home is the center of art; I am found in both arrows and quiver Yet I quietly rest in your heart.

Q

I lead the queen, yet never walk Without you (u) at my heels; I laugh at every question queer, And joy in piggy's squeals.

P

I perch on every pepper-pod, I peer in every place; I prance with every palfrey gay, Yet never run nor race.

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O

Listen, children, and you'll hear me in the cooing of the dove; In the lowing of the kine and the crowing of the cocks; I am in your joy and sorrow, and I come to you in love, And you will find me safely hidden in the middle of your box.

N

I live in the moon, yet I visit the sun, I've twice blest the noon, and I've twice kissed the nun; I was in the beginning, yes, double and treble, And wherever's an end I am always in the middle.

M

I, too, live in the moon, yet I ne'er saw the sun; I ne'er blessed the noon, and I ne'er kissed a nun. I'm one of the many, and in at each mess, Though I've never a penny, I'm not in distress.

L

I sing in every lullaby, I'm out in every squall; I ring in every shilling piece, And roll in every ball.

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K

I am baked in a cake, but I never see bread, I can fork hay, and rake, but I can't lie in bed; I can like, but not love; though no doe, I'm with the buck; I'm in kite, but not in dove; and I'm always in luck.

J

I'm in a baby-jumper, and with joy I laugh and sing, But I quickly find myself shut up in jail, Where I pass my time in jokes, or perhaps in conjuring, Till I lead the Judge, who says I'm "out on bail."

I

I live in an Inn, yet I never taste beer, I never smoke, chew, or use snuff; I am seen in high life, yet I'm true to my wife, And now I have told you enough.

H

At the door of a hut I must stand, it is true, Yet of the king's household I'm one; I revel in heather all wet with the dew, And yet I am never in fun.

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G

I grow in grace, yet gayety Would have no place except for me; I greet the gardener with a grin, E'en though I lie the grave within. I'm with the King, yet shun the Queen; I walk in grey, ah! yes in green; I gleam in gold, yet live in gloom, And at a wedding kiss the groom.

F

I am in the farmer's field, I am fresh in all his fruits; I'm in all his forests wide, But I'm not in his pursuits.

E

Twice told, I'm in Eternity, And yet I live in time; I eat and sleep in every place, Yet soar in the sublime.

D

I darken your doors and your windows, And if you are deaf, dumb, or blind, You may know I am always quite ready, Your duds or your dainties to find.

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C

Though I live in the ocean so blue, Yet I never am seen in the sea; I can cast a sheet-anchor, 't is true, And captains depend upon me.

B

I grow in the bean, And to beauty I lean, And when buttercups bloom I am there; I bend the boy's bow, And the bugle I blow, Till I wake the Kamtchatcadale bear.

A

I lead out the ape, and I'm seen in the glass; I hide in the grape, and I'm found in the grass. I was there in the garden when Adam was made, Not to help them to sin, though I stood in their shade. You can not have an apple, an orange, a pear, But in each and in all, I must have my full share. You can not eat nor speak, nay, nor hear, without me; That I'm chief among my fellows, you all must agree.

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_QUIRKS._

A little word of letters five That means bound fast together; Transpose but two, and you will find A scattering yon and hither.

UNITE--UNTIE.

* * * * *

And now a word of letters four Five perfect words will make, If you transpose and rightly place 'Tis true and no mistake.

LEVI--LIVE--VILE--EVIL--VEIL.

* * * * *

Now five are found, With spring and bound A twist or turn to take, And ere we know, All in a row, Five other words they make. The times are bad, The items sad, The mites must meet their fate; To smite the rock Emits a shock That hurls us from the gate.

TIMES--ITEMS--MITES--SMITE--EMITS.

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_SOMEBODY'S BOY._

List to the ring of the midnight song! 'Tis somebody's boy; The winds give to every wild echo a tongue. Yes, somebody's boy;

The witch of the revel has waved her wand Over somebody's boy; And the spirit of evil has clasped the hand Of somebody's boy.

Comes now a yell on the midnight air From somebody's boy; Reckless, defiant, and devil-may-care, Is somebody's boy.

Foul is the bed, madly dark the dank cell, Where somebody's boy Is writhing in torture, the veriest hell, Yet, somebody's boy.

Waiting and watching, a mother's eyes weep For somebody's boy; The vigil, dear Father, O help her to keep! For somebody's boy.

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Throw round him, and over, thy Spirit to save,-- This somebody's boy, Ere fiends for his lost soul shall hollow the grave Of somebody's boy.

Fill with thy Spirit, too, our hearts we pray, That somebody's boy We may watch for, and snatch from the death-trodden way, Yes, somebody's boy.

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_THE LADDIE-AND-LASSIE BIRDS._

Come sit with me in the green-wood bower, While I sing you a song of love;-- 'Tis the song of the birds In the deep, wild woods, 'Tis the song of the sweet ring-dove.

The laddie-bird says, "I have come to woo;" And the lassie-bird, "Ah! coo, coo, coo, coo." {349}

The laddie-bird says, "With a hope to win,"-- And the lassie-bird, "Coo, coo, that is no sin."

The laddie-bird says, "Together we'll dwell," And the lassie-bird says, "In the Linden dell."

The laddie-bird says, "And build our nest," And the lassie-bird says, "In the tree to the West."

The laddie-bird says, "And raise our brood," And the lassie-bird says, "In the sweet solitude."

The laddie-bird says, "Till they're fit to fly," And the lassie-bird, "Yes, to the blue, blue sky."

The laddie-bird says, "Let us hie away;"-- And the lassie-bird, "Yes, and begin to-day.

The laddie-bird says, "I will take this moss,"-- And the lassie-bird says, "And I, this floss."

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The laddie-bird says, "And we'll love so true;" And the lassie-bird, "Ah, yes, coo, coo, coo."

'Tis the old-new song that the birds have sung, Aye, the birds of every race, Since the world was planned, And came forth from the hand Of the Maker, aglow with grace.

'Tis the song they will sing till time is o'er,-- 'Tis the stream that from Paradise gushed; {351} And the music that flows When the love-light glows, Will never, no, never be hushed.

{352}

Time

Eternity.

US

[Footnote: "The great watchful I is over US through TIME and ETERNITY.]

End of Project Gutenberg's Mother Truth's Melodies, by Mrs. E. P. Miller