To Miss Mary Links, Virginia (and may the laws have her in their holy keeping). SETTIN' BY THE FIRE BY FRANK L. STANTON Never much on stirrin' roun' (Sich warn't his desire), Allers certain to be foun' Settin' by the fire. When the frost wuz comin' down-- Col' win' creepin' nigher, Spent each day jest thataway-- Settin' by the fire. When the dancin' shook the groun'-- Raised the ol' roof higher, Never swung the gals eroun'-- Sot thar' by the fire. Same ol' corner night an' day-- Never 'peared to tire; Not a blessed word to say! Jest sot by the fire. When he died, by slow degrees, Folks said: "He's gone higher;" But it's my opinion he's Settin' by the fire. THE WHISPERER BY IRONQUILL He never tried to make a speech; A speech was far beyond his reach. He didn't even dare to try; He did his work upon the sly. He took the voter to the rear And gently whispered in his ear. He never wrote; he could not write; He never tried that style of fight. No argument of his was seen In daily press or magazine. He only tried to get up near And whisper in the voter's ear. It worked so well that he became A person of abundant fame. He couldn't write; he couldn't speak, But still pursued his course unique. He had a glorious career-- He whispered in the voter's ear. DER OAK UND DER VINE BY CHARLES FOLLEN ADAMS I don'd vas preaching voman's righdts, Or anyding like dot, Und I likes to see all beoples Shust gondented mit dheir lot; Budt I vants to gondradict dot shap Dot made dis leedle shoke: "A voman vas der glinging vine, Und man, der shturdy oak." Berhaps, somedimes, dot may be drue; Budt, den dimes oudt off nine, I find me oudt dot man himself Vas peen der glinging vine; Und ven hees friendts dhey all vas gone, Und he vas shust "tead proke," Dot's ven der voman shteps righdt in, Und peen der shturdy oak. Shust go oup to der paseball groundts Und see dhose "shturdy oaks" All planted roundt ubon der seats-- Shust hear dheir laughs und shokes! Dhen see dhose vomens at der tubs, Mit glothes oudt on der lines; Vhich vas der shturdy oaks, mine friendts, Und vhich der glinging vines? Vhen sickness in der householdt comes, Und veeks und veeks he shtays, Who vas id fighdts him mitoudt resdt, Dhose veary nighdts und days? Who beace und gomfort alvays prings, Und cools dot fefered prow? More like id vas der tender vine Dot oak he glings to, now. "Man vants budt leedle here below," Der boet von time said; Dhere's leedle dot man he _don'd_ vant, I dink id means, inshted; Und ven der years keep rolling on, Dheir cares und droubles pringing, He vants to pe der shturdy oak, Und, also, do der glinging.