Chapter 10

"At Petersburg I was told that the train going the other way would meet us. As we started out, I dropped my hat from the window while looking at something. It was a desperate move, but I did it. Then I jumped off the train, and went back after it. As soon as I got around the curve I ran for Petersburg, where I took the other train. I presume you all felt sorry for me, but if you'd seen me fold myself in a long, passionate embrace after I had climbed on the other train, you would have changed your minds."

He then passed gently from my sight.

THE OLD-FASHIONED CHOIR

BY BENJAMIN F. TAYLOR

I have fancied, sometimes, the Bethel-bent beam That trembled to earth in the patriarch's dream, Was a ladder of song in that wilderness rest, From the pillow of stone to the blue of the Blest, And the angels descended to dwell with us here, "Old Hundred," and "Corinth," and "China," and "Mear." All the hearts are not dead, not under the sod, That those breaths can blow open to Heaven and God! Ah! "Silver Street" leads by a bright, golden road-- O! not to the hymns that in harmony flowed-- But to those sweet human psalms in the old-fashioned choir, To the girls that sang alto, the girls that sang air!

"Let us sing to God's praise," the minister said, All the psalm-books at once fluttered open at "York," Sunned their long dotted wings in the words that he read, While the leader leaped into the tune just ahead, And politely picked out the key note with a fork, And the vicious old viol went growling along At the heels of the girls in the rear of the song.

I need not a wing--bid no genii come, With a wonderful web from Arabian loom, To bear me again up the River of Time, When the world was in rhythm, and life was its rhyme; Where the streams of the year flowed so noiseless and narrow, That across them there floated the song of a sparrow; For a sprig of green caraway carries me there, To the old village church and the old village choir, When clear of the floor my feet slowly swung, And timed the sweet praise of the songs as they sung, Till the glory aslant of the afternoon sun Seemed the rafters of gold in God's temple begun!

You may smile at the nasals of old Deacon Brown, Who followed by scent till he ran the tune down; And the dear sister Green, with more goodness than grace, Rose and fell on the tunes as she stood in her place, And where "Coronation" exultingly flows, Tried to reach the high notes on the tips of her toes! To the land of the leal they went with their song, Where the choir and the chorus together belong; O, be lifted, ye gates! Let me hear them again-- Blessed song, blessed Sabbath, forever, amen!

WHEN THE LITTLE BOY RAN AWAY

BY FRANK L. STANTON

When the little boy ran away from home The birds in the treetops knew, And they all sang "Stay!" But he wandered away Under the skies of blue. And the Wind came whispering from the tree: "Follow me--follow me!" And it sang him a song that was soft and sweet, And scattered the roses before his feet That day--that day When the little boy ran away.

The Violets whispered: "Your eyes are blue And lovely and bright to see; And so are mine, and I'm kin to you, So dwell in the light with me!" But the little boy laughed, while the Wind in glee Said: "Follow me--follow me!" And the Wind called the clouds from their home in the skies And said to the Violet: "Shut your eyes!" That day--that day When the little boy ran away.

Then the Wind played leap-frog over the hills And twisted each leaf and limb; And all the rivers and all the rills Were foaming mad with him! And 'twas dark as the darkest night could be, But still came the Wind's voice: "Follow me!" And over the mountain, and up from the hollow Came echoing voices, with: "Follow him--follow!" That awful day When the little boy ran away!

Then the little boy cried: "Let me go--let me go!" For a scared--scared boy was he! But the Thunder growled from a black cloud: "No!" And the Wind roared: "Follow me!" And an old gray Owl from a treetop flew, Saying: "Who are you-oo? Who are you-oo?" And the little boy sobbed: "I'm lost away, And I want to go home where my parents stay!" Oh, the awful day When the little boy ran away!

Then the Moon looked out from a cloud and said: "Are you sorry you ran away? If I light you home to your trundle bed, Will you stay, little boy, will you stay?" And the little boy promised--and cried and cried-- He would never leave his mother's side; And the Moonlight led him over the plain And his mother welcomed him home again. But oh, what a day When the little boy ran away!

HE WANTED TO KNOW

BY SAM WALTER FOSS

He wanted to know how God made the worl' Out er nothin' at all, W'y it wasn't made square, like a block or a brick, Stid er roun', like a ball, How it managed to stay held up in the air, An' w'y it don't fall; All such kin' er things, above an' below, He wanted to know.

He wanted to know who Cain had for a wife, An' if the two fit; Who hit Billy Patterson over the head, If he ever got hit; An' where Moses wuz w'en the candle went out, An' if others were lit; If he couldn' fin' these out, w'y his cake wuz all dough, An' he wanted to know.

An' he wanted to know 'bout original sin; An' about Adam's fall; If the snake hopped aroun' on the end of his tail Before doomed to crawl, An' w'at would hev happened if Adam hedn' et The ol' apple at all; These ere kind er things seemed ter fill him 'ith woe, An' he wanted to know.

An' he wanted to know w'y some folks wuz good, An' some folks wuz mean, W'y some folks wuz middlin' an' some folks wuz fat, An' some folks wuz lean, An' some folks were very learned an' wise, An' some folks dern green; All these kin' er things they troubled him so That he wanted to know.

An' so' he fired conundrums aroun', For he wanted to know; An' his nice crop er taters 'ud rot in the groun', An' his stuff wouldn't grow; For it took so much time to ask questions like these, He'd no time to hoe; He wanted to know if these things were so, Course he wanted know.

An' his cattle they died, an' his horses grew sick, 'Cause they didn't hev no hay; An' his creditors pressed him to pay up his bills, But he'd no time to pay, For he had to go roun' askin' questions, you know, By night an' by day; He'd no time to work, for they troubled him so, An' he wanted to know.

An' now in the poorhouse he travels aroun' In just the same way, An' asks the same questions right over ag'in, By night an' by day; But he haint foun' no feller can answer 'em yit, An' he's ol' an' he's gray, But these same ol' conundrums they trouble him so, That he still wants to know.

SOLDIER, REST!

BY ROBERT J. BURDETTE

A Russian sailed over the blue Black Sea, Just when the war was growing hot, And he shouted, "I'm Tjalikavakeree- Karindabrolikanavandorot- Schipkadirova- Ivandiszstova- Sanilik- Danilik- Varagobhot!"

A Turk was standing upon the shore Right where the terrible Russian crossed; And he cried, "Bismillah! I'm Abd el Kor- Bazaroukilgonautoskobrosk- Getzinpravadi- Kilgekosladji- Grivido- Blivido- Jenikodosk!"

So they stood like brave men, long and well, And they called each other their proper names, Till the lock-jaw seized them, and where they fell They buried them both by the Irdosholames- Kalatalustchuk- Mischaribustchup- Bulgari- Dulgari- Sagharimainz.

THE EXPERIENCES OF GENTLE JANE

BY CAROLYN WELLS

THE CARNIVOROUS BEAR

Gentle Jane went walking, where She espied a Grizzly Bear; Flustered by the quadruped Gentle Jane just lost her head.

THE RUDE TRAIN

Last week, Tuesday, gentle Jane Met a passing railroad train; "Ah, good afternoon," she said; But the train just cut her dead.

THE CARELESS NIECE

Once her brother's child, for fun, Pointed at her aunt a gun. At this conduct of her niece's Gentle Jane went all to pieces.

THE NAUGHTY AUTOMOBILE

Gentle Jane went for a ride, But the automobile shied; Threw the party all about-- Somehow, Jane felt quite put out.

THE COLD, HARD LAKE

Gentle Jane went out to skate; She fell through at half-past eight. Then the lake, with icy glare, Said, "Such girls I can not bear."

THE CALM STEAM-ROLLER

In the big steam-roller's path Gentle Jane expressed her wrath. It passed over. After that Gentle Jane looked rather flat.

A NEW EXPERIENCE

Much surprised was gentle Jane When a bullet pierced her brain; "Such a thing as that," she said, "Never came into my head!"

THE BATTERING-RAM

"Ah!" said gentle Jane, "I am Proud to meet a battering-ram." Then, with shyness overcome, Gentle Jane was just struck dumb.

A FEW REFLECTIONS

BY BILL ARP

I rekon I've lived as much as most foaks accordin' to age, and I ain't tired of livin' yit. I like it. I've seen good times, and bad times, and hard times, and times that tired men's soles, but I never seed a time that I coulden't extrakt sum cumfort out of trubble. When I was a boy I was a lively little devil, and lost my edycashun bekaus I couldn't see enuf fun in the spellin' book to get thru it. I'm sorry for it now, for a blind man can see what a fool I am. The last skhoolin' I got was the day I run from John Norton, and there was so much fun in that my daddy sed he rekoned I'd got larnin' enuf. I had a bile on my back as big as a ginney egg, and it was mighty nigh ready to bust. We boys had got in a way of ringin' the bell before old Norton got there, and he sed that the first boy he kotched at it would ketch hail Kolumby. Shore enuf he slipped upon us one mornin', and before I knowed it he had me by the collar, and was layin' it on like killin' snakes. I hollered, "My bile, my bile, don't hit me on my bile," and just then he popped a center shot, and I jumped three feet in the atmosphere, and with a hoop and a beller I took to my heels. I run and hollered like the devil was after me, and shore enuf he was. His long legs gained on me at every jump, but just as he was about to grab me I made a double on him, and got a fresh start. I was aktiv as a cat, and so we had it over fences, thru the woods, and round the meetin' house, and all the boys was standin' on skool house hill a hollerin', "Go it, my Bill--go it, my Bill." As good luck would have it there was a grape vine a swingin' away ahead of me, and I ducked my head under it just as old Norton was about two jumps behind. He hadn't seen it, and it took him about the middle and throwed him the hardest summerset I ever seed a man git. He was tired, and I knowd it, and I stopped about three rods off and laffd at him as loud as I could ball. I forgot all about my bile. He never follered me another step, for he was plum giv out, but he set there bareheaded and shook his hickory at me, lookin' as mad and as miserable as possible. That lick on my bile was about the keenest pain I ever felt in my life, and like to have killed me. It busted as wide open as a soap trof, and let every drop of the juice out, but I've had a power of fun thinkin' about it for the last forty years.

But I didn't start to tell you about that.