Part 26 (1/2)

I grant you, if you like, that men may need The services performed for crime by greed,-- Grant that the perfect welfare of the State Requires the aid of those who in debate As mercenaries lost in early youth The fine distinction between lie and truth-- Who cheat in argument and set a snare To take the feet of Justice unaware-- Who serve with livelier zeal when rogues a.s.sist With perjury, embracery (the list Is long to quote) than when an honest soul, Scorning to plot, conspire, intrigue, cajole, Reminds them (their astonishment how great!) He'd rather suffer wrong than perpetrate.

I grant, in short, 'tis better all around That ambidextrous consciences abound In courts of law to do the dirty work That self-respecting scavengers would s.h.i.+rk.

What then? Who serves however clean a plan By doing dirty work, he is a dirty man!

ACCEPTED

Charles Shortridge once to St. Peter came.

”Down!” cried the saint with his face aflame; ”'Tis writ that every hardy liar Shall dwell forever and ever in fire!”

”That's what I said the night that I died,”

The sinner, turning away, replied.

”What! _you_ said that?” cried the saint--”what! what!

_You_ said 'twas so writ? Then, faith, 'tis _not!_ I'm a devil at quoting, but I begin To fail in my memory. Pray walk in.”

A PROMISED FAST TRAIN

I turned my eyes upon the Future's scroll And saw its pictured prophecies unroll.

I saw that magical life-laden train Flash its long glories o'er Nebraska's plain.

I saw it smoothly up the mountain glide.

”O happy, happy pa.s.sengers!” I cried.

For Pleasure, singing, drowned the engine's roar, And Hope on joyous pinions flew before.

Then dived the train adown the sunset slope-- Pleasure was silent and unseen was Hope.

Crashes and shrieks attested the decay That greed had wrought upon that iron way.

The rusted rails broke down the rotting ties, And clouds of flying spikes obscured the skies.

My coward eyes I drew away, distressed, And fixed them on the terminus to-West,

Where soon, its melancholy tale to tell, One b.l.o.o.d.y car-wheel wabbled in and fell!

ONE OF THE SAINTS

Big Smith is an Oakland School Board man, And he looks as good as ever he can; And he's such a cold and a chaste Big Smith That snowflakes all are his kin and kith.

Wherever his eye he chances to throw The crystals of ice begin to grow; And the fruits and flowers he sees are lost By the singeing touch of a sudden frost.

The women all s.h.i.+ver whenever he's near, And look upon _us_ with a look austere-- Effect of the Smithian atmosphere.

Such, in a word, is the moral plan Of the Big, Big Smith, the School Board man.

When told that Madame Ferrier had taught _Hernani_ in school, his fist he brought Like a trip-hammer down on his bulbous knee, And he roared: ”Her Nanny? By gum, we'll see If the public's time she dares devote To the educatin' of any dam goat!”