Q. K. Philander Doesticks

“ Where the poor and the rich meet in meekness and love:
Where the works of each heart are unveiled to the light,
And Humbug and Cant yield to Truth and to Right—
Where the trickster lays off his mask of deceit,
And the cloak of the hypocrite drops to his feet,
And Honor is given, where Honor is due—
We may see that some from the Fifth Avenue,
Most nobly will speak in that great reckoning day,
While their earthly detractors have Nothing to Say. ”

“ They reached the huge Library—christened of Astor.
Then she shook down her skirts to their natural latitude—
Ahem’d once or twice—struck out a nice attitude—
And then she struck into this little oration,
Though I’m sure I don’t know where she learned declamation.
“Spirit, behold! these bending shelves
Are groaning ’neath the gathered store
Of every nation’s varied lore.
Most welcome are the poor themselves
To freely turn these countless pages,
And gather from the words of sages
All the light of former ages.
Whoever wills is here a guest,
The poorest are the welcomest. ”

“ Who never have visited London or Paris;
Who am not a phantom, a myth, or a mystery,
But a “homo,” as solid as any of history;
As real as Antony, Cæsar, or Brutus,—
A wide-awake Yankee, so “tarnation ’cute” as
To always write Nothings, while Nothings will pay,
Am the author of this Nothing—Nothing to Say. ”