Why can't a fellow hear the fine things said About a fellow when a fellow's dead? The best of doctors--so the press declared-- A public blessing while his life was spared, True to his country, bounteous to the poor, In all things temperate, sober, just, and pure; The best of husbands! echoed Mrs. Van, And set her cap to catch another man. So ends this Canto--if it's quantum suff., We'll just stop here and say we've had enough, And leave poor Rip to sleep for thirty years; I grind the organ--if you lend your ears To hear my second Canto, after that We 'll send around the monkey with the hat. CANTO SECOND So thirty years had passed--but not a word In all that time of Rip was ever heard; The world wagged on--it never does go back-- The widow Van was now the widow Mac---- France was an Empire--Andrew J. was dead, And Abraham L. was reigning in his stead. Four murderous years had passed in savage strife, Yet still the rebel held his bloody knife. --At last one morning--who forgets the day When the black cloud of war dissolved away The joyous tidings spread o'er land and sea, Rebellion done for! Grant has captured Lee! Up every flagstaff sprang the Stars and Stripes-- Out rushed the Extras wild with mammoth types-- Down went the laborer's hod, the school-boy's book-- "Hooraw!" he cried, "the rebel army's took!" Ah! what a time! the folks all mad with joy Each fond, pale mother thinking of her boy; Old gray-haired fathers meeting--"Have--you--heard?" And then a choke--and not another word; Sisters all smiling--maidens, not less dear, In trembling poise between a smile and tear; Poor Bridget thinking how she 'll stuff the plums In that big cake for Johnny when he comes; Cripples afoot; rheumatics on the jump; Old girls so loving they could hug the pump; Guns going bang! from every fort and ship; They banged so loud at last they wakened Rip. I spare the picture, how a man appears Who's been asleep a score or two of years; You all have seen it to perfection done By Joe Van Wink--I mean Rip Jefferson. Well, so it was; old Rip at last came back, Claimed his old wife--the present widow Mac---- Had his old sign regilded, and began To practise physic on the same old plan. Some weeks went by--it was not long to wait-- And "please to call" grew frequent on the slate. He had, in fact, an ancient, mildewed air, A long gray beard, a plenteous lack of hair,-- The musty look that always recommends Your good old Doctor to his ailing friends. --Talk of your science! after all is said There's nothing like a bare and shiny head; Age lends the graces that are sure to please; Folks want their Doctors mouldy, like their cheese. So Rip began to look at people's tongues And thump their briskets (called it "sound their lungs"), Brushed up his knowledge smartly as he could, Read in old Cullen and in Doctor Good. The town was healthy; for a month or two He gave the sexton little work to do.