The train now encamp. The unpacking of the kettles and mess-pans, theunyoking of the oxen, the gathering about the various camp-fires, thefrizzling of the pork, are so clearly expressed by the music that themost untutored savage could readily comprehend it. Indeed, so vivid andlifelike was the representation, that a lady sitting near usinvoluntarily exclaimed aloud, at a certain passage, "_Thar, that pork'sburning!_" and it was truly interesting to watch the gratifiedexpression of her face when, by a few notes of the guitar, the pan wasremoved from the fire, and the blazing pork extinguished.
This is followed by the beautiful _aria_:
"O! marm, I want a pancake!"
Followed by that touching _recitative_:
"Shet up, or I will spank you!"
To which succeeds a grand _crescendo_ movement, representing the flightof the child with the pancake, the pursuit of the mother, and the finalarrest and summary punishment of the former, represented by the rapidand successive strokes of the castanet.
The turning in for the night follows; and the deep and stertorousbreathing of the encampment is well given by the bassoon, while thesufferings and trials of an unhappy father with an unpleasant infant aretouchingly set forth by the _cornet a piston_.
Part Second.--The night attack of the Pi Utahs; the fearful cries of thedemoniac Indians; the shrieks of the females and children; the rapid andeffective fire of the rifles; the stampede of the oxen; their recoveryand the final repulse, the Pi Utahs being routed after a loss ofthirty-six killed and wounded, while the Pikes lose but one scalp (froman old fellow who wore a wig, and lost it in the scuffle), arefaithfully given, and excite the most intense interest in the minds ofthe hearers; the emotions of fear, admiration and delight: succeedingeach other, in their minds, with almost painful rapidity. Then followsthe grand chorus:
"Oh! we gin them fits, The Ingen Utahs. With our six-shooters-- We gin 'em pertickuler fits."
After which we have the charming recitative of Herr Tuden Links, to theinfant, which is really one of the most charming gems in theperformance:
"Now, dern your skin, _can't_ you be easy?"
Morning succeeds. The sun rises magnificently (octavo flute)--breakfastis eaten,--in a rapid movement on three sharps; the oxen are caught andyoked up--with a small drum and triangle; the watches, purses and othervaluables of the conquered Pi Utahs are stored away in a camp-kettle, toa small movement on the piccolo, and the train moves on, with the grandchorus:
"We'll soon be thar, Gee up Bolly! Whoo hup! whoo haw!"
The whole concludes with the grand hymn and chorus:
"When we die we'll go to Benton, Whup! Whoo, haw! The greatest man that e'er land saw, Gee! Who this little airth was sent on Whup! Whoo, haw! To tell a 'hawk from a handsaw!' Gee!"
The immense expense attending the production of this magnificent work,the length of time required to prepare the chorus, and the incrediblenumber of instruments destroyed at each rehearsal, have hithertoprevented M. Tarbox from placing it before the American public, and ithas remained for San Diego to show herself superior to her sister citiesof the Union, in musical taste and appreciation, and in high-souledliberality, by patronizing this immortal prodigy, and enabling itsauthor to bring it forth in accordance with his wishes and itscapabilities. We trust every citizen of San Diego and Vallecetos willlisten to it ere it is withdrawn; and if there yet lingers in SanFrancisco one spark of musical fervor, or a remnant of taste for pureharmony, we can only say that the Southerner sails from that place oncea fortnight, and that the passage money is but forty-five dollars.
THE RUNAWAY BOY
BY JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY
Wunst I sassed my Pa, an' he Won't stand that, an' punished me,-- Nen when he was gone that day, I slipped out an' runned away.
I tooked all my copper-cents, An' clumbed over our back fence In the jimpson-weeds 'at growed Ever'where all down the road.
Nen I got out there, an' nen I runned some--an' runned again When I met a man 'at led A big cow 'at shooked her head.
I went down a long, long lane Where was little pigs a-play'n'; An' a grea'-big pig went "Booh!" An' jumped up, an' skeered me too.
Nen I scampered past, an' they Was somebody hollered "Hey!" An' I ist looked ever'where, An' they was nobody there.
I _want_ to, but I'm 'fraid to try To go back.... An' by-an'-by Somepin' hurts my throat inside-- An' I want my Ma--an' cried.
Nen a grea'-big girl come through Where's a gate, an' telled me who Am I? an' ef I tell where My home's at she'll show me there.
But I couldn't ist but tell What's my _name_; an' she says well, An' she tooked me up an' says _She_ know where I live, she guess.
Nen she telled me hug wite close Round her neck!--an' off she goes Skippin' up the street! An' nen Purty soon I'm home again.
An' my Ma, when she kissed me, Kissed the _big girl_ too, an' _she_ Kissed me--ef I p'omise _shore_ I won't run away no more!
THE DRAYMAN
BY DANIEL O'CONNELL
The captain that walks the quarter-deck Is the monarch of the sea; But every day, when I'm on my dray, I'm as big a monarch as he. For the car must slack when I'm on the track, And the gripman's face gets blue, As he holds her back till his muscles crack, And he shouts, "Hey, hey! Say, you! Get out of the way with that dray!" "I won't!" "Get out of the way, I say!" But I stiffen my back, and I stay on the track, And I won't get out of the way.
When a gaudy carriage bowls along, With a coachman perched on high, Solemn and fat, a cockade in his hat, Just like a big blue fly, I swing my leaders across the road, And put a stop to his jaunt, And the ladies cry, "John, John, drive on!" And I laugh when he says "I caun't."
Oh, life to me is a big picnic, From the rise to the set of sun! The swells that ride in their fancy drags Don't begin to have my fun. I'm king of the road, though I wear no crown, As I leisurely move along, For I own the streets, and I hold them down, And I love to hear this song: "Get out of the way with your dray!" "I won't!" "Get out of the way, I say!" But I stiffen my back, and I stay on the track, And I don't get out of the way.
BILL'S COURTSHIP
BY FRANK L. STANTON
I
Bill looked happy as could be One bright mornin'; an' says he: "Folks has been a-tellin' me Mollie's set her cap my way; An' I'm goin' thar' to-day With the license; so, ol' boy, Might's well shake, an' wish me joy! Never seen a woman yit This here feller couldn't git!"
II
Now, it happened, that same day, I'd been lookin' Mollie's way;-- Jest had saddled my ol' hoss To go canterin' across Parson Jones's pastur', an' Ax her fer her heart an' han'! So, when Bill had had his say An' done set his weddin' day, I lit out an' rid that way.
III
Mollie met me at the door:-- "Glad to see yer face once more!" She--says she: "Come in--come in!" ("It's the best man now will win," Thinks I to myself.) Then she Brung a rocker out fer me On the cool piazza wide, With her own chair right 'longside!
IV
In about two hours I knowed In that race I had the road! Talked in sich a winnin' way Got her whar' she named the day, With her shiny head at rest On my speckled Sunday vest! An', whilst in that happy state, Bill--he rid up to the gate.
V
Well, sir-ee!... He sot him down-- Cheapest lookin' chap in town! (Knowed at once I'd set my traps!) Talked 'bout weather, an' the craps, An' a thousan' things; an' then-- Jest the lonesomest o' men-- Said he had so fur to ride, Reckoned it wuz time to slide!
VI
But I hollered out: "Ol' boy, Might's well shake, an' w
ish me joy! I hain't seen the woman yit That this feller couldn't git!"
THE WOMAN WHO MARRIED AN OWL
BY ANNE VIRGINIA CULBERTSON
When the children got home from the nutting expedition and had eatensupper, they sat around discontentedly, wishing every few minutes thattheir mother had returned.
"I wish mamma would come back," said Ned. "I never know what to do inthe evening when she isn't home."
"I 'low 'bout de bes' you-all kin do is ter lemme putt you ter baid,"said Aunt 'Phrony.
"Don't want to go to bed," "I'm not sleepy," "Want to stay up," came inchorus from three pairs of lips.
"You chillen is wusser dan night owls," said the old woman. "Ef youkeeps on wid dis settin'-up-all-night bizness, I boun' some er you gwineturn inter one'r dese yer big, fussy owls wid yaller eyes styarin', jes'de way li'l Mars Kit doin' dis ve'y minnit, tryin' ter keep hisse'fawake. An' dat 'mines me uv a owl whar turnt hisse'f inter a man, an' efa owl kin do dat, w'ats ter hinner one'r you-all turnin' inter a owl, Ilak ter know? So you bes' come 'long up ter baid, an' ef you is rightspry gettin' raidy, mebbe I'll whu'l in an' tell you 'bout dat owl."
The little procession moved upstairs, Coonie, the house-boy, bringing upthe rear with an armful of sticks and some fat splinters of lightwood,which were soon blazing with an oily sputter. Coonie scented a story,and his bullet pate was bent over the fire an unnecessarily long time,as he blew valiant puffs upon the flames which no longer needed hisassistance, and arranged and rearranged his skilfully piled sticks.
"Quit dat foolishness, nigger," said 'Phrony at last, "an' set down onde ha'th an' 'have yo'se'f. Ef you wanter stay, whyn't you sesso,stidder blowin' yo'se'f black in de face? Now, den, ef y'all raidy, Igwine begin.
"Dish yer w'at I gwine tell happen at de time er de 'ear w'en de Injunswuz havin' der green-cawn darnse, an' I reckon you-all 'bout ter ax mew'at dat is, so I s'pose I mought ez well tell you. 'Long in Augus' w'ende Injuns stopped wu'kkin' de cawn, w'at we call 'layin' by de crap,'den dey cu'd mos' times tell ef 'twuz gwineter be a good crap, so dey'mence ter git raidy fer de darnse nigh a month befo'han'. Dey went terde medincin' man an' axed him fer ter 'pint de day. Den medincin' man hesont out runners ter tell ev'b'dy, an' de runners dey kyar'd'memb'ance-strings wid knots tied all 'long 'em, an' give 'em ter depeople fer ter he'p 'em 'member. De folks dey'd cut off a knot f'um destring each day, an' w'en de las' one done cut off, den dey know de dayfer de darnse wuz come. An' de medincin' man he sont out hunters, too,fer ter git game, an' mo' runners fer ter kyar' hit ter de people so's'tdey mought cook hit an' bring hit in.
"W'en de time come, de people ga'rred toge'rr an' de medincin' man hetucken some er de new cawn an' some uv all de craps an' burnt hit, befo'de people wuz 'lowed ter eat any. Atter de burnin', den he tucken a yearer cawn in one han' an' ax fer blessin's an' good craps wid dat han',w'ile he raise up tu'rr han' ter de storm an' de win' an' de hail an'baig 'em not ter bring evil 'pun de people. Atter dat, dey all made derbre'kfus' offen roas'in'-years er de new cawn an' den de darnse begunan' lasted fo' days an' fo' nights; de men dress' up in der bes' an' degals wearin' gre't rattles tied on der knees, dat shuk an' rattled widev'y step.
"De gal whar I gwine tell 'bout wuz on her way home on de fo'th night,an' she wuz pow'ful tired, 'kase dem rattles is monst'ous haivy, an' shebin keepin' hit up fo' nights han' runnin'. She wuz gwine thu a darkplace in de woods w'en suddintly she seed a young man all wrop up in asof' gray blankit an' leanin' 'gins' a tree. His eyes wuz big an' roun'an' bright, an' dey seemed ter bu'n lak fire. Dem eyes drord de gal an'drord de gal 'twel she warn't 'feared no mo', an' she come nearer, an'las' he putt out his arms wrop up in de gray blanket an' drord her clost'twel she lean erg'in him, an' she look up in de big, bright eyes an'she say, 'Whar is you, whar is you?' An' he say, 'Oo-goo-coo,Oo-goo-coo.' Dat wuz de Churry_kee_ name fer 'owl,' but de gal ain' payno 'tention ter dat, for mos' er de Injun men wuz name' atter bu'ds an'beas'eses an' sech ez dat. Atter dat she useter go out ter de woods ev'ynight ter see de young man, an' she alluz sing out ter him, 'Whar isyou, whar is you?' an' he'd arnser, 'Oo-goo-coo, Oo-goo-coo.' Dat wuz deon'ies wu'd he uver say, but de gal thought 'twuz all right, fer shedone mek up her min' dat he 'longed ter nu'rr tribe er Injuns whar spokediff'nt f'um her own people. Sidesen dat, she love' him, an' w'en galsis in love dey think ev'ything de man do is jes' 'bout right, an' deseyer co'tin'-couples is no gre't fer talkin,' nohow.
"De gal's daddy wuz daid an' her an' her mammy live all 'lone, so las'she mek up her min' dat it be heap mo' handy ter have a man roun' dehouse, so she up an' tell her mammy dat she done got ma'ied. Her mammysay, 'You is, is you? Well, who de man?' De gal say 'Oo-goo-coo.' 'Well,den,' sez her mammy, 'I reckon you bes' bring home dish yer Oo-goo-cooan' see ef we kain't mek him useful. A li'l good game, now an' den, 'udsuit my mouf right well. We ain' have nair' pusson ter do no huntin' ferus sence yo' daddy died.'
"'Mammy,' sez de gal, 'I'se 'bleeged ter tell you dat my husban' kain'tspeak ow' langwidge.'
"'All de better,' sez her mammy, sez she. 'Dar ain' gwine be no trouble'bout dat, 'kase I kin do talkin' 'nuff fer two, an' I ain' want onedese yer back-talkin' son-in-laws, nohow.'
"So de nex' night de gal went off an' comed back late wid de young man.Her mammy ax him in an' gin him a seat by de fire, an' dar he sot allwrop up in his blinkit, wid his haid turnt 'way f'um de light, notsayin' nuttin' ter nob'dy. An' de fire died down an' de wind blewedmo'nful outside, an' dar he sot on an' on, an' w'en de wimmins went tersleep, dar he wuz settin', still. But in de mawnin' w'en dey woked up hewuz gone, an' dey ain' see hya'r ner hide uv 'im all day.
"De nex' night he come erg'in and bringed a lot er game wid 'im, an' heputt dat down at de do' an' set hisse'f down by de fire an' stay dar,same ez befo', not sayin' nair' wu'd. Dat kind er aggervex de gal'smammy at las', 'kase she wuz one'r dese yer wimmins whar no sooner gitsw'at dey ax fer dan dey ain' kyare 'bout hit no mo.' She want son-in-lawwhar kain't talk, she git him, an' den she want one whar kin arnserback. She gittin' kind er jubous 'bout him, but she 'feared ter sayanything fer fear he quit an' she git no mo' game.
"Thu'd night he come onct mo' wid a passel er game, an' she mightycur'ous 'bout him by dat time. She say ter husse'f, 'Well! ef I ain' gotde curisomest son-in-law in dese diggin's, den I miss de queschin. Iwunner w'at mek him set wid his face turnt f'um de fire an' blinkin' hiseyes all de time? I wunner w'y he ain' nuver onloose dat blankit, an'w'y he g'longs off 'fo' de daylight an' nuver comes back 'twel de dark.'
"'Oh, mammy,' sez de gal, sez she, 'ain' I tol' you he kain't speak ow'langwidge, an' I 'spec' he done come f'um dat wo'm kyountry whar we yeartell 'bout, 'way off yonner, an' dat huccome he hatter keep his blankitroun' him. I reckon he git so tired huntin' all day, no wunner he hatterblink his eyes ter keep 'em open.'
"But her mammy wan't sassified, 'kase hit mighty hard ter haid off one'rdese yer pryin' wimmins, so she go outside an' ga'rr up some lightwoodsplinters an' th'ow 'em on de fire, dis-away, all uv a suddint." Herethe old woman rose and threw on a handful of lightwood, which blazed upwith a great sputtering, and in the strong light she stood before thefire enacting the part of the scared Owl for the delighted yethalf-startled children.
"An' w'en she th'owed hit on," Aunt 'Phrony proceeded, "de fire blazean' spit an' sputter jes' lak dis do, an' de ooman she fotched a yellan' cried out, she did, 'Lan' er de mussiful! W'at cur'ous sort er woodis dish yer dat ac' lak dis?' De Owl he wuz startle' an' he look roun'suddint, dis-a-way, over his shoulder, an' de wimmins dey let out aturr'ble screech, 'kase dey seed 'twa'n't nuttin' but a big owl settin'dar blinkin'.
"Owl seed he wuz foun' out, an' he riz up an' give his gre't, wide wingsa big flop, lak dis, an' swoop out de do' cryin' 'Oo-goo-coo!Oo-goo-coo!' ez he flewed off inter de darkness." Here Aunt 'Phronyspread her arms like wings and made a swoop half-way across the room tothe bedside of the startled children. "An'," she continued, "de windhowl mo'nful all night long, an' seem ter de gal an' her mammy lak 'twuzde voi
ce of po' Oo-goo-coo mo'nin' fer de gal he love."
"And didn't he ever come back?" said Ned.
"Naw, suh, dat he didn'. He wuz too 'shame' ter come back, an' he bin so'shame' er de trick uver sence dat he hide hisse'f way in de daytime an'nuver come out 'twel de dusk, an' den he go sweepin' an' swoopin' 'longon dem gre't big sof' wings, so quiet dat he ain' mek de ghos' uv asoun', jes' looks lak a big shadder flittin' roun' in de dusk. He teckdat time, too, 'kase he know dat 'bout den de li'l fiel' mouses an' sechez dat comes out an' 'mences ter run roun', an' woe be unter 'em ef deymeets up wid Mistah Owl; deys a-goner, sho'."
"But how could they think an owl was a man?" asked Janey.
"Well, honey, de tale ain' tell dat, but I done study hit out dis-a-way,dat mo'n likely de gal bin turnin' up her nose at some young Injun man,an' outer spite he done gone an' got some witch ter putt a spell on herso's't de Owl 'ud look lak a man an' she 'ud go an' th'ow husse'f awayon a ol' no-kyount bu'd. Yas, I reckon dat wuz 'bout de way. An' nowy'all better shet up dem peepers er you'll be gittin' lak de owls, nogood in de day time, an' wantin' ter be up an' prowlin' all night."
MR. DOOLEY ON EXPERT TESTIMONY
BY FINLEY PETER DUNNE
"Annything new?" said Mr. Hennessy, who had been waiting patiently forMr. Dooley to put down his newspaper.
"I've been r-readin' th' tistimony iv th' Lootgert case," said Mr.Dooley.
"What d'ye think iv it?"
"I think so," said Mr. Dooley.
The Wit and Humor of America, Volume V. (of X.) Page 3
