Part 7
The flag they died defending Still floats above their grave, And is loved by millions of freemen, But never looked on by a slave.
The country they loved and bled for, Still true to her sacred trust, Will cover their names with glory And revere their hallowed dust.
The comrades who still survive them, Like gold in the furnace tried, Speak, with tear-dimmed lashes, Of the gallant boys that died.
These flowers will fade and perish, Tho' hallowed by each grave; But they will live forever In the hearts of the true and the brave.
Then let this custom continue Till tears and flowers shall cease, And we shall greet the gallant boys On the shores of endless peace.
_LINES TO MY CELL._
Oh, silent and mysterious cell, Could I command thy walls to tell The secrets they have kept so long, 'T would be, indeed, a cheerless song.
A tale of crime, and tears, and pain, The fruit, perhaps, of frenzied brain, As none to crime yet ever sank That had not first become a crank.
"The law of God and man defy, A wretch you'll live, a felon die!" These words seem to haunt my brain, Perhaps it is the sad refrain
Of a song well known to thee; Yet where its author now can be, Save thee, perhaps no one can tell, Thou grim, mysterious, silent cell.
Thy rocky floor has felt the tread Of many a hapless one now dead; Thy walls have echoed many a sigh, Wrung from guilt's expiring eye.
While musing 'mid thy walls tonight I seem to hear, with some affright, The wail of many a blighted life, The prayer of a despairing wife;
A mother, weeping for her child; A father, grief has driven wild. And then--I pray thee silence keep; 'Twere best to let thy secrets sleep.
_A TRIBUTE TO DR. G. A. THARP._
BY G. W. VAN WEIGHS.
Arise, my Muse, and tune your harp To ring the praises of a Tharp; His cultured mind and noble soul Truth and virtue both control.
Tell the world his perfect skill Can conquer every human ill That lends to science or to art, From shattered limb to dormant heart.
Each pill and potion that he makes Relieves your pain and health awakes: And should he use the surgeon's knife, He never will sacrifice a life.
His skilfull fingers place a band As gently as a woman's hand; And not one patient needs to feel That he the truth will not reveal.
The poor regard him as their friend, And on his bounty oft depend; Well knowing that his generous heart Dares to act a christian part!
Long may this noble doctor live, Ease to suffering men to give; And meet the summons to depart With the skill he wooes his art.
_AN APPRECIATED FRIEND._
She is a pretty little lass, Half human, half divine; And for an angel she would pass In Heaven's lovely clime.
Her hair is locks of flowing gold, Her ways are cute and wise; And her form is lithe and graceful, With pretty bright blue eyes.
Her manners are just perfect. Her nature kind and true; She is a real philanthropist When charity is due.
She strives to cheer those sad at heart, And well she does succeed; And stays the ever painful dart That often fate does speed.
How different from so many folk Who frown upon the one Who, by some simple words he spoke, Caused "crime" to have been done.
Although the cruel knife of fate Has made an awful wound, In her kind words, that come but late, Sweet balm for sorrow's found.
Oh, that this wicked, wicked world Could boast more such friendly souls! Less lives would be so sadly hurled Into a pit of earthly ghouls, Where nothing's saved, but all is lost;
And where man's cast, at any cost, Into a dismal, prison dell-- A gloomy, dreary, earthly hell!
Come, of such friends arise and sing, With thanks returned to heaven's king! * * * * *
_SALOME'S REVENGE._
Arise, my Muse, spread out thy wings, Prepare to soar away! Tune up thy harp for endless joy, And turn night into day.
Go dream of Paradise sublime In the old Empire State! And when you're done return to me Your story to relate.
In time gone by--in days of yore-- There lived, in forests wild, Two families of ancient stock, And each one had a child.
The children of both parentage Were born in this country; They amassed immensely fortunes In this America.
The Waddington's were pure Scotch blood, And raised one daughter fair; They gave her name of Sadie, She'd blue eyes and golden hair.
Her cheeks were rich with crimson glow, Her lips were thin and cute, And many an anxious lover She sternly did refute.
Her dainty hands and flowing hair, And graceful curves of form Would make one's heart quite palpitate-- She carried all by storm.
Trueman Waddington was a man Who loved his daughter--heir, And as he rolled in endless wealth He watched his child's welfare.
Their nearest neighbor was St. Lawrence, Who lived a little way Off on the rugged mountain side, Where children like to play.
Two children he had buried When they were yet quite young, And now he was a happy man 'Cause he reared an only son.
This son he named him Trueman, Because he liked the name, And tho't 'twould be in honor Of his neighbor of the same.
"As an act of kindness and of love," Old Waddington did say, "Because you named him after me I pledge my Sade, today."
The two old friends called in their wives And asked them to consent To seal the bargain for each child On which they were both bent.
The mothers thought it rather soon To tie so firm a knot, And begged them not to seal their doom By such a foolish plot.
But Trueman Waddington was not A man to easy quit, And he argued long and labored strong In a half way frenzied fit.
He said: "I know we are both rich In lands and kine and gold, And why not join these vast fortunes Before they are all sold?
"You've named your only son from me; Trueman it is, _True-Man_ he'll be, And now must I sit by in shame And cannot seal my daughter's fame?"
Then spake the elder man St. Lawrence: "Dear sir, my neighbor and my friend, You have my heart and soul and mind, And these vast fortunes I will bind
"Together with true chords of love. God help our children find A part their mothers will not take In this, to seal their children's fate.
"Now let me, please, suggest a way To reach this matter of today; And we will friendly make the deal So lawyers cannot break the seal."
Then Waddington sprang to his feet, And warmly did his neighbors greet; Then shook him warmly by the hand, And said, "Come, let us seal the band."
And then with fixed and mellow eye He gazed on high as he stood by His rugged friend and neighbor, too, Then St. Lawrence bade him what to do.
"My dear old friend, sit down, sit down; 'Tis easy for us now to drown All obstacles that's in our way To carry out our plan today."
Then he proceeded to relate How easy men in Empire State Could call in witness to their deed And satisfy all fortune's creed.
"Now, look-a-here, my friend St. Lawrence, You cannot be too quick To tell me how we'll do all this And make this bargain stick."
And then the sage St. Lawrence did say: "Look here, my friend, here is our way! I'll make my will of my estate (And that, you know, is very great,)
"Unto your fair and lovely child, If she refrains from being wild, And when she weds she weds my son, My noble, brave and kind Trueman.
"Then you, my friend, reciprocate; You make your will of this same date, And seal as I do mine; Make True, my son, your legatee,
"And to him give, in simple fee, Your lands, your goods, your kine, your cash, All in one grand and mighty crash, If he your daughter weds."
The witnesses were duly called; The wills were then prepared; The testators did sign their names, The children they well fared.
The documents were laid away In vaults of solid rock; There safely for the children kept, Their heritage of stock.
Years, years rolled on and Trueman grew To be a handsome man. He said: "I'm bound to be "M. D." And do the best I can."
Sadie, on the other hand, Grew to be a queen; And when to college she did go Trueman there was seen.
They played at home, when they were young, Upon the mountain side, And never once did they mistrust They'd be both groom and bride.
When Trueman closed his college course He off to Gotham went, To become an adept in his class While on his mission bent.
Sadie, on the other hand, When she had closed her term, Returned unto her mountain home, For which she hourly yearned.
Two years had changed this happy home To one most sadly grieved; The mother of this lovely girl Had sadly been deceived.
She, down upon her death bed lay, When in came Sadie one bright day And gazed upon the shrunken form Which now had battled life's hard storm.
Poor Sadie, with a broken heart, She did the best to take her part; But long the sickness did not last, Because her mother now soon passed
From time into eternity, Where the human soul is ever free. Trueman now, in city fashion, Had let die out his old-time passion
For rocks and rills and mountain side, Where dwelt the queen who'd be his bride. So much for selfish, erring man; He'll do the best where e'er he can.
Time, time rolled on, when Sadie's sire, With renewed youth and boyhood ire, Took to himself another wife, And tried anew to live his life.
The new-made mistress of the home (Who had no place she called her own) Was mother of a daughter fair, With dimpled cheeks and flowing hair.
The madame's name was Maria; _Her_ daughter's was Sarah. She soon was boss of all the house, And Sadie driven like a mouse
Into the cold and cheerless world. Sadie, with a broken heart, Prayed her father take her part; But he, with proud and dire disdain, Forever did refrain.
Then Sadie, on her mother's grave, Prayed loud and long for God to save Her soul from earthly wreck. Then, with a palpitating heart,
With one fond look she did depart To battle hard with broken heart; While daughter and a second wife Should all but ruin her young life.
But father did as fathers do, When their list of wives have numbered _two_; He lent his daughter a deaf ear, For his second wife he then did fear.
His life was short; he soon became A victim to a raging pain, Which soon relieved him from this life And bore him off from life's hard strife.
They laid him low beside his wife, The pride and joy of Sadie's life; But Sadie knew not of the fate Her father had so sadly met.
The new-made widow, without tear, Prepared to move, within a year, To far and distant foreign land, Where neither had a single friend.
The goods were sold, the stock and kine; The lands were leased for a long time; The two, with pockets filled with gold, Sailed for Paris with joys untold.
Young Sarah, who was quite a belle, When in old Paris she did swell Her wardrobe with both silk and lace, And numerous paints to ply her face.
She was the very counterpart-- Although 'tis strange to say-- Of pretty _Sadie_ Waddington In all her dainty ways.
She spread herself around, about, In all society's halls, And never failed, when chance availed, To attend the stylish balls.
She was a favorite with them all, In fact, the Queenly Belle, And many a suitor's prayer she heard While on bended knee he fell.
One evening while on promenade Within society's halls, She met a handsome, tall young man She'd seen at some of the balls.
When introduced, both their eyes met, She blushing timidly; He heard the name, "Miss Waddington," Then asked most courteously:
"From what part of America's soil Do you and your friends hail? Or have you lived in Paris long? On what liner did you sail"?
She said: "I'm Sadie Waddington, From the city that bears my name; It borders on the old St. Lawrence, A river of world-wide fame."
Then spake the handsome gentleman: "I, too, am from that place; And if you are Sadie Waddington, I ought to know your face."
Her cheeks grew flushed and flushed again, As on her he searchingly gazed; She looked up in his solemn face And saw he was greatly amazed.
It was Trueman St. Lawrence she saw, As she gazed on his beautiful form; She was more than bewitching in her ways To capture him all by storm.
The Doctor went to his hotel To ponder the matter o'er: "That's not the Sadie Waddington I've seen in days of yore."
His brain was puzzled, his face was flushed. He was in a frenzied mood; He could not fathom the mystery To do the best he could.
If that's the girl in days of youth I played with on the mountain side, Before I leave this old city I'll make her my darling bride.
So saying, he sank upon his couch, And slept in dreams so rich and gay That loud his servant called and called, Because 'twas late--far in the day.
That day he had a trip to make Unto a neighboring town, And visited a hospital Kept by a Doctor Brown.
In passing from one of the wards, While in the open door, He chanced to turn, and looking back Saw, kneeling on the floor,
With outstretched arms and pleading eyes, The girl for years he had not seen; She'd grown into full womanhood, She was a perfect fairy Queen.
"What! what!" he cried, "am I deceived? If I'm my father's son That girl I see back yonder Is _Sadie Waddington_!"
He hastened back to where she knelt, And bade her to arise, And clasped her to his manly breast, While tears rose in his eyes.
Then 'tween her sobs and moans and groans She slowly did relate How she was driven from her home Back in the Empire State.
She told of awful suffering, Of wandering far and near; Of the death of father and mother, To her _all_ that was dear.
She told him how she had returned Unto her mountain dome, And as she was told that all had been sold, She was left without a home.
The Doctor stood transfixed with awe; Listened to her relate The story of the sale of all, Back in the Empire State.
The Doctor said: "My dear Sadie, It matters not a bit to me Whether you have lands, or goods, or gold, I have vast fortunes yet untold.
"What's mine is yours; 'tis always so, My father told me long ago, Before I left the Empire State And came over here to study late.
"I offer you my heart and hand, And pledge to seal it with the band Of holy wedlock, faithfully. Now set your heart forever free
"From labor and the toils of life,-- Come, say you'll be my darling wife! I feel a pang about my heart That pierces like a flashing dart."
"Oh, True. St. Lawrence! Oh, can it be That you do really care for me? I, who have lived by a false name To hide a step-mother's wicked shame?
"For five long years my name has been (As you directly would have seen), Not Sadie W., as you have known, But the Sadie changed to plain Salome.
"The Waddington I changed, also, For the common name of Van Harlow; Then among strangers I did seek For work to do, although 'twas meek.
"I came across the ocean wide, As servant to a new-made bride; She was taken sick and died out here Before she'd been a bride a year.
"Since then I've cared for poor and sick, 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.