Eugene Field

“ It wouldn't seem like home at all if Sue should go away;
But when she went, a-leavin' us all sorrer and all tears,
Poor father whistled lonesome-like—and went to feed the steers.
When crops were bad, and other ills befell our homely lot,
He'd set of nights and try to act as if he minded not;
And when came death and bore away the one he worshipped so,
How vainly did his lips belie the heart benumbed with woe!
You see the telltale whistle told a mood he'd not admit,—
He'd always stopped his whistlin' when he thought we noticed it. ”

“ What marvels of injustice are committed in thy name!"
Thus groaned I in the spirit, as I strode what stretch of ties
'Twixt Providence, Rhode Island, and my native Gotham lies;
But Rae, McCambridge, and the rest kept up a steady jog,—
'Twas not the first time they had plied their arts upon the dog.
So much for my first battle with the fickle goddess, Fame,—
And I hear that some folks nowadays are faring just the same.
Oh, hapless he that on the graceless Yankee dog relies!
The dog fares stout and hearty, and the play it is that dies. ”

“ How shall they melt upon the tongue
[195] Into a savory flood!
How seek the Mecca down below,
And linger round that spot,
Entailing weeks and months of woe,—
Ach, Gott! mein lieber Gott!
If Nature gives men appetites
For things that won't digest,
Why, let them eat whatso delights,
And let her stand the rest;
And though the sin involve the cost
Of Carlsbad, like as not
'Tis better to have loved and lost,—
Ach, Gott! mein lieber Gott!
Beyond the vast, the billowy tide,
Where my compatriots dwell,
All kinds of victuals have I tried,
All kinds of drinks, as well ”

“ GRANDMA'S BOMBAZINE.
IT'S everywhere that women fair invite and please my eye,
And that on dress I lay much stress I can't and sha'n't deny:
The English dame who's all aflame with divers colors bright,
The Teuton belle, the ma'moiselle,—all give me keen delight;
And yet I'll say, go where I may, I never yet have seen
A dress that's quite as grand a sight as was that bombazine.
Now, you must know 'twas years ago this quaint but noble gown
[198] Flashed in one day, the usual way, upon our solemn town. ”

“ And so soliloquizing, as a homesick creature will,
Incontinent, I wandered down the noisy, bustling hill,
And drifted, automatic-like and vaguely, into Lowe's,
Where Fortune had in store a panacea for my woes.
The register was open, and there dawned upon my sight
A name that filled and thrilled me with a cyclone of delight,—
The name that I shall venerate unto my dying day,—
The proud, immortal signature: "John Smith, U. S. A."
Wildly I clutched the register, and brooded on that name ”

“ That there is no diet quite so good as rare roast beef.
And even when the body's in the very prime of health,
[204] When sweet contentment spreads upon the cheeks her rosy wealth,
And when a man devours three meals per day and pines for more,
And growls because instead of three square meals there are not four,—
Well, even then, though cake and pie do service on the side,
And coffee is a luxury that may not be denied,
Still of the many viands there is one that's hailed as chief,
And that, as you are well aware, is rare roast beef. ”

“ BLITHE was the youth that summer day,
As he smote at the ribs of earth,
And he plied his pick with a merry click,
And he whistled anon in mirth;
And the constant thought of his dear one's face
Seemed to illumine that ghostly place.
The gaunt earth envied the lover's joy,
And she moved, and closed on his head:
With no one nigh and with never a cry
The beautiful boy lay dead;
And the treasure he sought for his sweetheart fair
Crumbled, and clung to his glorious hair.
Fifty years is a mighty space
In the human toil for bread ”

“ THE DOINGS OF DELSARTE.
IN former times my numerous rhymes excited general mirth,
And I was then of all good men the merriest man on earth;
And my career
From year to year
Was full of cheer
And things,
Despite a few regrets, perdieu! which grim dyspepsia brings;
But now how strange and harsh a change has come upon the scene!
Horrors appall the life where all was formerly so serene:
Yes, wasting care hath cast its snare about my honest heart,
[255] Because, alas! it hath come to pass my daughter's learned Delsarte. ”

“ Appeared to feel those whippings a great deal more than we:
But how we bellowed and took on, as if we'd like to die,—
Poor mother really thought she hurt, and that's what made her cry!
Then how we youngsters snickered as out the door we slid,
[216] For mother's whippings never hurt, though father's always did!
In after years poor father simmered down to five feet four,
But in our youth he seemed to us in height eight feet or more! ”

“ Give me no home 'neath the pale pink dome of European skies,
No cot for me by the salmon sea that far to the southward lies;
But away out West I would build my nest on top of a carmine hill,
Where I can paint, without restraint, creation redder still! ”

“ Folks criticise
My figure and my face,
And I opine they even incline to sneer at my musical bass.
Why, sometimes they presume to say this wart upon my cheek
Is not refined, and remarks unkind they pass on that antique,—
With lusty bass and charms of face and figure will I part
[258] Ere they extort this grand old wart to placat their Delsarte.
Oh, wretched day! as all shall say who've known my Muse before,
When by this rhyme you see that I'm not in it any more.
Good-by the mirth that over earth diffused such keen delight ”

“ Sleds at that time I'd have you know were paragons of speed!
[107] And if the hill got bare in spots, as hills will do, why then
We'd haul on ice and snow to patch those bald spots up again;
But, oh! with what sad certainty our spirits would subside
When Deacon Frisbee sprinkled ashes where we used to slide!
The deacon he would roll his eyes and gnash his toothless gums,
And clear his skinny throat, and twirl his saintly, bony thumbs,
And tell you: "When I wuz a boy, they taught me to eschew
The godless, ribald vanities which modern youth pursue! ”

“ Though exiles, we shall seem to be
In Lover's Lane, Saint Jo.
[44]
CRUMPETS AND TEA.
THERE are happenings in life that are destined to rise
Like dear, hallowed visions before a man's eyes;
And the passage of years shall not dim in the least
The glory and joy of our Sabbath-day feast,—
The Sabbath-day luncheon that's spread for us three,—
My worthy companions, Teresa and Leigh,
And me, all so hungry for crumpets and tea.
There are cynics who say with invidious zest
That a crumpet's a thing that will never digest ”

“ This gown, my dear, you show me here I'll own is passing fair,
Though I'll confess it's no such dress as grandma used to wear.
Yet wear it, do; perchance when you and I are off the scene,
Our boy shall sing this comely thing as I the bombazine.
[203]
RARE ROAST BEEF.
WHEN the numerous distempers to which all flesh is heir
Torment us till our very souls are reeking with despair;
When that monster fiend, Dyspepsy, rears its spectral hydra head,
Filling bon vivants and epicures with certain nameless dread ”

“ THE BOLTONS, 22.
WHEN winter nights are grewsome, and the heavy, yellow fog
Gives to Piccadilly semblance of a dank, malarious bog;
When a demon, with companion in similitude of bell,
Goes round informing people he has crumpets for to sell ”

“ OUR WHIPPINGS.
COME, Harvey, let us sit awhile and talk about the times
Before you went to selling clothes and I to peddling rhymes,—
The days when we were little boys, as naughty little boys
As ever worried home folks with their everlasting noise!
Egad! and were we so disposed, I'll venture we could show
The scars of wallopings we got some forty years ago;
What wallopings I mean I think I need not specify,—
[214] Mother's whippings didn't hurt; but father's,—oh, my!
The way that we played hookey those many years ago,
We'd rather give 'most anything than have our children know! ”

“ And plaintive spissant music made
Upon the grassy green beyond:
Cooped up, they simply ate and grew
For gosling stew!
My doctor said I mustn't eat
High food and seasoned game;
But surely gosling is a meat
With tender nourishment replete.
Leastwise I gayly ate this same;
I braved dyspepsy—wouldn't you
[11] For gosling stew?
I've feasted where the possums grow,
Roast turkey have I tried,
The joys of canvasbacks I know,
And frequently I've eaten crow
In bleak and chill Novembertide ”

“ And my proud name was heralded,—oh that I'd gone incog.
When we took that play to Providence to try it on a dog!
Shall I forget the awful day we struck that wretched town?
Yet in what melting irony the treacherous sun beamed down!
The sale of seats had not been large; but then McCambridge said
[239] The factory people seldom bought their seats so far ahead,
And Rae indorsed McCambridge. So they partly set at rest
The natural misgivings that perturbed my youthful breast;
For I wondered and lamented that the town was not agog
When I took my play to Providence to try it on a dog. ”

“ Tityrus, all in the shade of the wide-spreading beech-tree reclining,
Sweet is that music you've made on your pipe that is oaten and slender;
Exiles from home, you beguile our hearts from their hopeless repining,
As you sing Amaryllis the while in pastorals tuneful and tender. ”

“ The which excess of awkwardness quite mortified her mother.
Now, as for me, I like to see the carriages uncouth
Which certify to all the shy, unconscious age of youth.
If maidenkind be pure of mind, industrious, tidy, smart,
What need that they should fool away their youth upon Delsarte?
In good old times my numerous rhymes occasioned general mirth,
But now you see
Revealed in me
[256] The gloomiest bard on earth. ”

“ Ez if it waited for a child to jine it in its play.
You see, John Smith, just which you are I cannot well recall;
And, really, I am pleased to think you somehow must be all!
For when a man sojourns abroad awhile, as I have done,
He likes to think of all the folks he left at home as one.
And so they are,—for well you know there's nothing in a name;
Our Browns, our Joneses, and our Smiths are happily the same,—
All represent the spirit of the land across the sea;
All stand for one high purpose in our country of the free. ”

“ Except these teeth wherewith to deal with rare roast beef.
Most every kind and rôle of modern victuals have I tried,
[206] Including roasted, fricasseed, broiled, toasted, stewed, and fried,
Your canvasbacks and papa-bottes and muttonchops subese,
Your patties à la Turkey and your doughnuts à la grease;
I've whirled away dyspeptic hours with crabs in marble halls,
And in the lowly cottage I've experienced codfish balls;
But I've never found a viand that could so allay all grief
And soothe the cockles of the heart as rare roast beef. ”

“ Our crême de la crême in Corinthian Hall.
[162]
THE RED, RED WEST.
I'VE travelled in heaps of countries, and studied all kinds of art,
Till there isn't a critic or connoisseur who's properly deemed so smart;
And I'm free to say that the grand results of my explorations show
That somehow paint gets redder the farther out West I go. ”

“ Do the double towers of Magdeburg loom up before your sight;
From thence to Leipzig 's quick enough,—of that I'll not complain,—
But from Hanover to Magdeburg—confound that schnellest train!
The Germans say that "schnell" means fast, and "schnellest" faster yet,—
In all my life no grimmer bit of humor have I met!
[246] Why, thirteen miles an hour 's the greatest speed they ever go,
While on the engine piston-rods do moss and lichens grow;
And yet the average Teuton will presumptuously maintain
That one can't know what swiftness is till he's tried das schnellest train! ”

“ For Art and Nature are just the same in the land where the porker grows,
And the paint keeps getting redder the farther out West one goes.
Our savants have never discovered the reason why this is so,
And ninety per cent of the laymen care less than the savants know;
It answers every purpose that this is manifest:
[164] The paint keeps getting redder the farther you go out West. ”

“ And, saying this, he snatched a kiss that like to burst that gown;
But, blushing red, my grandma said, "Oh, isn't grandpa mean!"
Yet evermore my grandma wore his favorite bombazine.
And when she died that sombre pride passed down to heedless heirs,—
Alas, the day 't was hung away beneath the kitchen stairs!
Thence in due time, with dust and grime, came foes on foot and wing,
And made their nests and sped their guests in that once beauteous thing.
'Tis so, forsooth! Time's envious tooth corrodes each human scene;
[202] And so, at last, to ruin passed my grandma's bombazine. ”

“ For "personals" the old Pacific House was just the place,—
Pap Abell knew the pedigrees of all the human race;
And when he'd gin up all he had, he'd drop a subtle wink,
And lead the way where one might wet one's whistle with a drink.
Those drinks at the Pacific,
When days were sudorific,
Were what Parisians (pray excuse my French!) would call "magnifique;"
And frequently an invitation to a meal I'd get
[180] When I helped 'em run the local on the "St. Jo Gazette."
And when in rainy weather news was scarce as well as slow,
To Saxton's bank or Hopkins' store for items would I go. ”

“ Whar the ladies are all beautiful, an' whar the crap of cawn
Is utilized for Burbon, and true awters are bawn.
You've ren for jedge, and killed yore man, and bet on Proctor Knott;
Yore heart is full of chivalry, yore skin is full of shot;
And I disremember whar I've met with gentlemen so true
[18] As yo' all in Kaintucky, whar blood an' grass are blue,
Whar a niggah with a ballot is the signal fo' a fight,
Whar the yaller dawg pursues the coon throughout the bammy night,
Whar blooms the furtive possum,—pride an' glory of the South! ”

“ To quaff that tepid Kaiserbrunn and starve on victuals stale!
And often, leagues and leagues away from where we suffered then,
With envious yearnings I survey what cannot be again!
And often in my quiet home, through dim and misty eyes,
I seem to see that curhaus dome blink at the radiant skies;
I seem to hear that Wiener band above the Tepl's roar,—
[119] To feel the pressure of your hand and hear your voice once more;
And, better yet, my heart is warm with thoughts of you and yours,
For friendship hath a sweeter charm than thrice ten thousand cures! ”