But about the time the old clock Flops off'n the mantel-shelf, And the bureau skoots fer the kitchen, I'm a-goin' to skoot, myself!

Plague-take! ef you keep me stabled While any earthquakes is around!-- I'm jist like the stock,--I'll beller, And break fer the open ground!

And I 'low you'd be as nervous, And in jist about my fix, When yer whole farm slides from inunder you, And on'y the mor'gage sticks!

Now cars haint a-goin' to kill you Ef you don't drive 'crost the track; Crediters never'll jerk you up Ef you go and pay 'em back; You kin stand all moral and mundane storms Ef you'll on'y jist behave-- But a' EARTHQUAKE:--well, ef it wanted you It 'ud husk you out o' yer grave!

[Ill.u.s.tration: August]

O mellow month and merry month, Let me make love to you, And follow you around the world As knights their ladies do.

I thought your sisters beautiful, Both May and April, too, But April she had rainy eyes, And May had eyes of blue.

And June--I liked the singing Of her lips, and liked her smile-- But all her songs were promises Of something, _after while_; And July's face--the lights and shade That may not long beguile, With alternations o'er the wheat The dreamer at the stile.

But you!--ah, you are tropical, Your beauty is so rare: Your eyes are clearer, deeper eyes Than any, anywhere; Mysterious, imperious, Deliriously fair, O listless Andalusian maid, With bangles in your hair!

Julius Caesar in Town

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The play of "Julius Caesar," which has been at the Academy of Music this week, has made a great hit. Messrs. Booth and Barrett very wisely decided that if it succeeded here it would do well anywhere. If the people of New York like a play and say so, it is almost sure to go elsewhere. Judging by this test the play of "Julius Caesar" has a glowing future ahead of it. It was written by Gentlemen Shakespeare, Bacon and Donnelly, who collaborated together on it. Shakespeare did the lines and plot, Bacon furnished the cipher and Donnelly called attention to it through the papers.

The scene of "Julius Caesar" is laid in Rome just before the railroad was completed to that place. In order to understand the play itself we must glance briefly at the leading characters which are introduced and upon whom its success largely depends.

Julius Caesar first attracted attention through the Roman papers by calling the attention of the medical faculty to the now justly celebrated Caesarian operation. Taking advantage of the advertis.e.m.e.nt thus attained, he soon rose to prominence and flourished considerably from 100 to 44 B. C., when a committee of representative citizens and property-owners of Rome called upon him and on behalf of the people begged leave to a.s.sa.s.sinate him as a mark of esteem. He was stabbed twenty-three times between Pompey's Pillar and eleven o'clock, many of which were mortal. This account of the a.s.sa.s.sination is taken from a local paper and is graphic, succinct and lacks the sensational elements so common and so lamentable in our own time. Caesar was the implacable foe of the aristocracy and refused to wear a plug hat up to the day of his death. Sulla once said, before Caesar had made much of a showing, that some day this young man would be the ruin of the aristocracy, and twenty years afterwards when Caesar sacked, a.s.sa.s.sinated and holocausted a whole theological seminary for saying "eyether" and "nyether," the old settlers recalled what Sulla had said.

Caesar continued to eat pie with a knife and in many other ways to endear himself to the ma.s.ses until 68 B. C., when he ran for Quaestor. Afterward he was aedile, during the term of which office he sought to introduce a number of new games and to extend the limit on some of the older ones.

From this to the Senate was but a step. In the Senate he was known as a good Speaker, but ambitious, and liable to turn up during a close vote when his enemies thought he was at home doing his ch.o.r.es. This made him at times odious to those who opposed him, and when he defended Cataline and offered to go on his bond, Caesar came near being condemned to death himself.

In 62 B. C. he went to Spain as Propraetor, intending to write a book about the Spanish people and their customs as soon as he got back, but he was so busy on his return that he did not have time to do so.

Caesar was a powerful man with the people, and while in the Senate worked hard for his const.i.tuents, while other Senators were having their photographs taken. He went into the army when the war broke out, and after killing a great many people against whom he certainly could not have had anything personal, he returned, headed by the Rome Silver Cornet Band and leading a procession over two miles in length. It was at this time that he was tendered a crown just as he was pa.s.sing the City Hall, but thrice he refused it. After each refusal the people applauded and encored him till he had to refuse it again. It is at about this time the play opens. Caesar has just arrived on a speckled courser and dismounted outside the town. He comes in at the head of a procession with the understanding that the crown is to be offered him just as he crosses over to the Court-House.

Here Ca.s.sius and Brutus meet, and Ca.s.sius tries to make a Mugwump of Brutus, so that they can organize a new movement. Mr. Edwin Booth takes the character of Brutus and Mr. Lawrence Barrett takes that of Ca.s.sius.

I would not want to take the character of Ca.s.sius myself, even if I had run short of character and needed some very much indeed, but Mr.

Barrett takes it and does first-rate. Mr. Booth also plays Brutus so that old settlers here say it seems almost like having Brutus here among us again.

Brutus was a Roman republican with strong tariff tendencies. He was a good extemporaneous after-dinner speaker and a warm personal friend of Caesar, though differing from him politically. In a.s.sa.s.sinating Caesar, Brutus used to say afterwards he did not feel the slightest personal animosity, but did it entirely for the good of the party. That is one thing I like about politics--you can cut out a man's vitals and hang them on the Christmas tree and drag the fair name of his wife or mother around through the sewers for six weeks before election, and so long as it is done for the good of the party it is all right.

So when Brutus is authorized by the caucus to a.s.sa.s.sinate Caesar he feels that, like being President of the United States, it is a disagreeable job; but if the good of the party seems really to demand it he will do it, though he wishes it distinctly understood that personally he hasn't got a thing against Caesar.

In act 4 Brutus sits up late reading a story by E. P. Roe, and just as he is in the most exciting part of it the ghost of the a.s.sa.s.sinated Caesar appears and states that it will meet him with hard gloves at Philippi. Brutus looks bored and says that he is not in condition, but the ghost leaves it that way and Brutus looks still more bored till the ghost goes out through a white oak door without opening it.

At Philippi, Brutus sees that there is no hope of police interference, and so before time is called he inserts his sword into his being and dies while the polite American audience puts on its overcoat and goes out, looking over its shoulder to see that Brutus does not take advantage of this moment, while the people are going away, to resuscitate himself.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

The play is thoroughly enjoyable all the way through, especially Caesar's funeral. The idea of introducing a funeral and engaging Mark Antony to deliver the eulogy, with the understanding that he was to have his traveling expenses paid and the privilege of selling the sermon to a syndicate, shows genius on the part of the joint authors. All the way through the play is good, but sad. There is no divertis.e.m.e.nt or tank in it, but the funeral more than makes up for all that.

Where Portia begs Brutus, before the a.s.sa.s.sination, to tell her all and let her in on the ground floor, and asks what the matter is, and he claims that it is malaria, and she still insists and asks, "Dwell I but in the suburbs of your good pleasure?" and he states, "You are my true and honorable wife, as dear to me as are the ruddy drops that visit my sad heart," I forgot myself and wept my new plug hat two-thirds full. It is as good as anything there is in Josh Whitcomb's play.

Booth and Barrett have the making of good actors in them. I met both of these gentlemen in Wyoming some years ago. We met by accident. They were going to California and I was coming back. By some oversight we had both selected the same track, and we were thrown together. I do not know whether they will recall my face or not. I was riding on the sleeper truck at the time of the accident. I always take a sleeper and always did. I rode on the truck because I didn't want to ride inside the car and have to a.s.sociate with a wealthy porter who looked down upon me. I am the man who was found down the creek the next day gathering wild ferns and murmuring, "Where am I?"

The play of "Julius Caesar" is one which brings out the meanness and magnetism of Ca.s.sius, and emphasizes the mistaken patriotism of Brutus.

It is full of pathos, duplicity, a.s.sa.s.sination, treachery, erroneous loyalty, suicide, hypocrisy, and all the intrigue, jealousy, cowardice and deviltry which characterized the politics of fifty years B. C., but which now, thanks to the enlightenment and refinement which twenty centuries have brought, are known no more forever. Let us not forget, as we enter upon the year 1888, that it is a Presidential year, and that all acrimony will be buried under the dew and the daisies, and that no matter how high party spirit may run, there will be no personal enmity.

His First Womern

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I buried my first womern In the spring; and in the fall I was married to my second, And haint settled yit at all?-- Fer I'm allus thinkin'--thinkin'

Of the first one's peaceful ways, A-bilin' soap and singin'

Of the Lord's amazin' grace.

And I'm thinkin' of her, constant, Dyin' carpet-chain and stuff, And a-makin' up rag-carpets, When the floor was good enough!

And I mind her he'p a-feedin'

And I recollect her now A-drappin' corn, and keepin'

Clos't behind me and the plow!

And I'm allus thinkin' of her Reddin' up around the house; Er cookin' fer the farm-hands; Er a-drivin' up the cows.-- And there she lays out yender By the lower medder-fence, Where the cows was barely grazin', And they're usin' ever sence.

And when I look acrost there-- Say its when the clover's ripe, And I'm settin', in the evenin', On the porch here, with my pipe, And the _other'n_ hollers "Henry!"-- W'y, they ain't no sadder thing Than to think of my first womern And her funeral last spring Was a year ago.

This Man Jones

This man Jones was what you'd call A feller 'at had no sand at all: Kindo consumpted, and undersize, And saller-complected, with big sad eyes, And a kind-of-a-sort-of-a-hang-dog style, And a sneakin' kind-of-a-half-way smile That kindo give him away to us As a preacher, maybe, or sumpin' wuss.

Didn't take with the gang--well, no-- But still we managed to _use_ him, though,-- Coddin' the gilley along the rout'

And drivin' the stakes that he pulled out;-- For I was one of the bosses then And of course stood in with the canvas-men-- And the way we put up jobs, you know, On this man Jones jes' beat the show!

Used to rattle him scandalous, And keep the feller a-dodgin' us, And a-shyin' round jes' skeered to death, And a-feered to whimper above his breath; Give him a cussin', and then a kick, And then a kind-of-a back-hand lick-- Jes' for the fun of seein' him climb Around with a head on half the time.

But what was the curioust thing to me, Was along o' the party--let me see,-- Who was our "Lion Queen" last year?-- Mamzelle Zanty, er De La Pierre?-- Well, no matter!--a stunnin' in mash, With a red-ripe lip, and a long eye-lash, And a figger sich as the angels owns-- And one too many for this man Jones: