In eloquent tranquility The waters lisp and talk to me. Sometimes, far out, the surface breaks, As some proud bass an instant shakes His glittering armor in the sun, And romping ripples, one by one, Come dallying across the space Where undulates my smiling face. The river's story flowing by, Forever sweet to ear and eye, Forever tenderly begun-- Forever new and never done. Thus lulled and sheltered in a shade Where never feverish cares invade, I bait my hook and cast my line, And feel the best of life is mine. WHEN OLD JACK DIED. I. When old Jack died, we staid from school (they said, At home, we needn't go that day), and none Of us ate any breakfast--only one, And that was Papa--and his eyes were red When he came round where we were, by the shed Where Jack was lying, half way in the sun And half way in the shade. When we begun To cry out loud, Pa turned and dropped his head And went away; and Mamma, she went back Into the kitchen. Then, for a long while, All to ourselves, like, we stood there and cried. We thought so many good things of Old Jack, And funny things--although we didn't smile--We couldn't only cry when Old Jack died. II. When Old Jack died, it seemed a human friend Had suddenly gone from us; that some face That we had loved to fondle and embrace From babyhood, no more would condescend To smile on us forever. We might bend With tearful eyes above him, interlace Our chubby fingers o'er him, romp and race, Plead with him, call and coax--aye, we might send The old halloo up for him, whistle, hist, (If sobs had let us) or, as wildly vain, Snapped thumbs, called "speak," and he had not replied; We might have gone down on our knees and kissed The tousled ears, and yet they must remain Deaf, motionless, we knew--when Old Jack died. III. When Old Jack died, it seemed to us, some way, That all the other dogs in town were pained With our bereavement, and some that were chained, Even, unslipped their collars on that day To visit Jack in state, as though to pay A last, sad tribute there, while neighbors craned Their heads above the high board fence, and deigned To sigh "Poor dog!" remembering how they Had cuffed him, when alive, perchance, because, For love of them he leaped to lick their hands-- Now, that he could not, were they satisfied? We children thought that, as we crossed his paws, And o'er his grave, 'way down the bottom-lands, Wrote "Our First Love Lies Here," when Old Jack died. DOC SIFERS. Of all the doctors I could cite you to in this-'ere town Doc Sifers is my favorite, jes' take him up and down! Count in the Bethel Neighberhood, and Rollins, and Big Bear, And Sifers' standin's jes' as good as ary doctor's there!