American fiction -- 19th century; American poetry -- 19th century; American wit and humor; Short stories, American
"Oh, see, mama!" she cried. "A gentleman gave me this. He said it
would last us a whole year."
The pale woman unrolled the package with trembling hands.
It was a nice new calendar.
Eugene Field
No gift his genius might have had
Of titles high, in church and state,
Could charm him as the one he bore,
Of children's poet-laureate.
He smilingly pressed aside his bays
And laurel garlands that he won,
And bowed his head for baby hands
To place a daisy wreath upon.
He found his kingdom in the ways,
Of little ones he loved so well,
For them he tuned his lyre and sang.
Sweet simple songs of magic spell.
Ah! greater feat to storm the gates
Of children's pure and cleanly hearts,
Than to subdue a warring world
By stratagems and doubtful arts.
A tribute paid by chanting choirs
And pealing organs rises high;
But soft and clear, somewhere he hears
Through all, a child's low lullaby.
Slightly Mixed
A certain Houston racing man was married some months ago. He also is
the proud possessor of a fine two-year-old filly that has made five
and a half furlongs in 1:09 and he expects her to do better at the
next races. He has named the filly after his wife and both of them are
dear to his heart. A Post man who ran across him yesterday found him
quite willing to talk.
"Yes," he said, "I am the happiest man in Texas. Bessie and I are
keeping house now and getting quite well settled down. That filly of
mine is going to do wonders yet. Bessie takes as much interest in her
as I do. You know I have named her for my wife. She is a thoroughbred.
I tell you it's fine to see her trotting around at home."
"Who, the filly?"
"No, my wife. She's going to bet twelve dozen pairs of kid gloves on
Bessie next time she goes in. I have but one objection to her. She
goes with her head on one side and is cross-legged, and tears off her
shoes.
"Your w-w-wife?"
"No, what's the matter with you? The filly. It pleases me very much to
have my friends inquire about Bessie. She is getting to be quite a
favorite. I had hard work to get her, too. She trots double without a
break."
"The filly, you mean?"
"No, my wife. I took Bessie out driving with the filly yesterday.
Bessie's a daisy. She's a little high in one shoulder, and a trifle
stiff in one leg, but her wind is all right. What do you think of her
back?"
"Really, I--I--I never had the pleasure of meeting your wife, but I have
no doubt--"
"What are you talking about? I mean the filly. The races come off just
on the anniversary of our marriage. The races are going to be a big
thing. You know we have been married just a year. I expect Bessie to
do wonders. There's a newcomer going to be here, that we are looking
for with much interest. You must really come out and see our first
event."
"I--I--I really, it would be indelicate--you must really excuse me. I
never saw anything of the kind. I--I--"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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