Tom Fudge looked back as he crossed the sill, And saw Kate Ketchem standing still.

"A girl more suited to my mind It isn't an easy thing to find; And every thing that she has to wear Proves her as rich as she is fair.

Would she were mine, and I to-day Had the old man's cash my debts to pay!

No creditors with a long account, No tradesmen wanting 'that little amount'; But all my scores paid up when due By a father-in-law as rich as a Jew!"

But he thought of her brother, not worth a straw, And her mother, that would be his, in law; So, undecided, he walked along, And Kate was left alone in the throng.

But a lawyer smiled, whom he sought by stealth, To ascertain old Ketchem's wealth; And as for Kate, she schemed and planned Till one of the dancers claimed her hand.

He married her for her father's cash; She married him to cut a dash, But as to paying his debts, do you know, The father couldn't see it so; And at hints for help, Kate's hazel eyes Looked out in their innocent surprise.

And when Tom thought of the way he had wed He longed for a single life instead, And closed his eyes in a sulky mood, Regretting the days of his bachelorhood; And said, in a sort of reckless vein, "I'd like to see her catch me again, If I were free, as on that night When I saw Kate Ketchem dressed in white!"

She wedded him to be rich and gay; But husband and children didn't pay, He wasn't the prize she hoped to draw, And wouldn't live with his mother-in-law.

And oft when she had to coax and pout In order to get him to take her out, She thought how very attentive and bright He seemed at the party that winter's night; Of his laugh, as soft as a breeze of the south, ('Twas now on the other side of his mouth); How he praised her dress and gems in his talk, As he took a careful account of stock.

Sometimes she hated the very walls-- Hated her friends, her dinners, and calls; Till her weak affection, to hatred turned, Like a dying tallow-candle burned.

And for him who sat there, her peace to mar, Smoking his everlasting cigar-- He wasn't the man she thought she saw, And grief was duty, and hate was law.

So she took up her burden with a groan, Saying only, "I might have known!"

Alas for Kate! and alas for Fudge!

Though I do not owe them any grudge; And alas for any who find to their shame That two can play at their little game!

For of all hard things to bear and grin, The hardest is knowing you're taken in.

Ah, well! as a general thing, we fret About the one we didn't get; But I think we needn't make a fuss, If the one we don't want didn't get us.

_Phoebe Cary._

Mandalay

By the old Moulmein PaG.o.da, lookin' eastward to the sea, There's a Burma girl a-settin', an' I know she thinks o' me; For the wind is in the palm-trees, an' the temple-bells they say: "Come you back, you British soldier: come you back to Mandalay!"

Come you back to Mandalay, Where the old flotilla lay: Can't you 'ear their paddles chunkin' from Rangoon to Mandalay?

On the road to Mandalay, Where the flyin'-fishes play, An' the dawn comes up like thunder outer China 'crost the Bay!

'Er petticut was yaller an' 'er little cap was green, An' 'er name was Supi-yaw-lat--jes' the same as Theebaw's Queen, An' I seed her fust a-smokin' of a whackin' white cheroot, An' a-wastin' Christian kisses on an 'eathen idol's foot; Bloomin' idol made o' mud-- Wot they called the Great Gawd Budd-- Plucky lot she cared for idols when I kissed 'er where she stud!

On the road to Mandalay--

When the mist was on the rice-fields an' the sun was droppin' low, She'd git 'er little banjo an' she'd sing "_Kul-la-lo-lo_!"

With 'er arm upon my shoulder an' her cheek agin my cheek We useter watch the steamers and the _hathis_ pilin' teak.

Elephints a-pilin' teak In the sludgy, squdgy creek, Where the silence 'ung that 'eavy you was arf afraid to speak!

On the road to Mandalay--

But that's all shove be'ind me--long ago an' fur away, An' there ain't no 'buses runnin' from the Benk to Mandalay; An' I'm learnin' 'ere in London what the ten-year sodger tells: "If you've 'eard the East a-callin', why, you won't 'eed nothin' else."

No! you won't 'eed nothin' else But them spicy garlic smells An' the sunshine an' the palm-trees an' the tinkly temple-bells!

On the road to Mandalay--

I am sick o' wastin' leather on these gutty pavin'-stones, An' the blasted Henglish drizzle wakes the fever in my bones; Tho' I walks with fifty 'ousemaids outer Chelsea to the Strand, An' they talk a lot o' lovin', but wot do they understand?

Beefy face an' grubby 'and-- Law! wot _do_ they understand?

I've a neater, sweeter maiden in a cleaner, greener land!

On the road to Mandalay--

Ship me somewheres east of Suez where the best is like the worst, Where there aren't no Ten Commandments, an' a man can raise a thirst; For the temple-bells are callin', an' it's there that I would be-- By the old Moulmein PaG.o.da, lookin' lazy at the sea-- On the road to Mandalay, Where the old Flotilla lay, With our sick beneath the awnings when we went to Mandalay!

On the road to Mandalay!

Where the flyin'-fishes play, An' the dawn comes up like thunder outer China 'crost the Bay!

_Rudyard Kipling._

Columbus

Behind him lay the gray Azores, Behind the Gates of Hercules; Before him not the ghost of sh.o.r.es, Before him only sh.o.r.eless seas.

The good mate said: "Now must we pray, For lo! the very stars are gone.

Brave Adm'r'l, speak; what shall I say?"

"Why, say: 'Sail on! sail on! and on!'"

"My men grow mutinous day by day; My men grow ghastly wan and weak."

The stout mate thought of home; a spray Of salt wave washed his swarthy cheek, "What shall I say, brave Adm'r'l, say, If we sight naught but seas at dawn?"

"Why, you shall say at break of day: 'Sail on! sail on! sail on! and on!'"

They sailed and sailed, as winds might blow, Until at last the blanched mate said: "Why, now not even G.o.d would know Should I and all my men fall dead.

These very winds forget their way, For G.o.d from these dread seas is gone.

Now speak, brave Adm'r'l, speak and say--"

He said: "Sail on! Sail on! and on!"

They sailed. They sailed. Then spake the mate: "This mad sea shows his teeth tonight.

He curls his lips, he lies in wait With lifted teeth, as if to bite!

Brave Adm'r'l, say but one good word: What shall we do when hope is gone?

The words leapt like a leaping sword; "Sail on! sail on! sail on! and on!"

Then, pale and worn, he kept his deck, And peered through darkness. Ah, that night Of all dark nights! And then a speck-- A light! a light! a light! a light!

It grew, a starlit flag unfurled!

It grew to be Time's burst of dawn.

He gained a world; he gave that world Its grandest lesson; "On! sail on!"

_Joaquin Miller._

"Sister's Best Feller"

My sister's best feller is 'most six-foot-three, And handsome and strong as a feller can be; And Sis, she's so little, and slender, and small, You never would think she could boss him at all; But, my jing!

She don't do a thing But make him jump 'round, like he worked with a string!

It jest made me 'shamed of him sometimes, you know, To think that he'll let a girl bully him so.