I fell asleep and dreamed that I
Was flung, like Vulcan, from the sky;
Like him was lamed—another
part:
His leg was crippled and my heart.
I woke in time to see my love
Conceal a letter in her glove.
PEACE.
When lion and lamb have together lain
down
Spectators cry out, all in
chorus;
“The lamb doesn’t shrink nor
the lion frown—
A miracle’s working
before us!”
But ’t is patent why Hot-head his
wrath holds in,
And Faint-heart her terror
and loathing;
For the one’s but an ass in a lion’s
skin,
The other a wolf in sheep’s
clothing.
THANKSGIVING.
The Superintendent of an Almshouse.
A Pauper.
SUPERINTENDENT:
So you’re unthankful—you’ll
not eat the bird?
You sit about the place all day and gird.
I understand you’ll not attend the
ball
That’s to be given to-night in Pauper
Hall.
PAUPER:
Why, that is true, precisely as you’ve
heard:
I have no teeth and I will eat no bird.
SUPERINTENDENT:
Ah! see how good is Providence. Because
Of teeth He has denuded both your jaws
The fowl’s made tender; you can
overcome it
By suction; or at least—well,
you can gum it,
Attesting thus the dictum of the preachers
That Providence is good to all His creatures—
Turkeys excepted. Come, ungrateful
friend,
If our Thanksgiving dinner you’ll
attend
You shall say grace—ask God
to bless at least
The soft and liquid portions of the feast.
PAUPER.
Without those teeth my speech is rather
thick—
He’ll hardly understand Gum Arabic.
No, I’ll not dine to-day. As
to the ball,
’Tis known to you that I’ve
no legs at all.
I had the gout—hereditary;
so,
As it could not be cornered in my toe
They cut my legs off in the fond belief
That shortening me would make my anguish
brief.
Lacking my legs I could not prosecute
With any good advantage a pursuit;
And so, because my father chose to court
Heaven’s favor with his ortolans
and Port
(Thanksgiving every day!) the Lord supplied
Saws for my legs, an almshouse for my
pride
And, once a year, a bird for my inside.
No, I’ll not dance—my
light fantastic toe
Took to its heels some twenty years ago.
Some small repairs would be required for
putting
My feelings on a saltatory footing.
(Sings)
O the legless man’s an unhappy chap—
Tum-hi, tum-hi, tum-he
o’haddy.
The favors o’ fortune fall not in
his lap—
Tum-hi, tum-heedle-do hum.
The plums of office avoid his plate
No matter how much he may stump the State—
Tum-hi, ho-heeee.
The grass grows never beneath his feet,
But he cannot hope to make both ends meet—
Tum-hi.
With a gleeless eye and a somber heart,
He plays the role of his mortal part:
Wholly himself he can never be.
O, a soleless corporation is he!
Tum.
SUPERINTENDENT:
The chapel bell is calling, thankless
friend,
Balls you may not, but church you shall,
attend.
Some recognition cannot be denied
To the great mercy that has turned aside
The sword of death from us and let it
fall
Upon the people’s necks in Montreal;
That spared our city, steeple, roof and
dome,
And drowned the Texans out of house and
home;
Blessed all our continent with peace,
to flood
The Balkan with a cataclysm of blood.
Compared with blessings of so high degree,
Your private woes look mighty small—to
me.
