George Augustus Baker, Jr.

        Shine! All right; here y'are, boss!
            Do it for jest five cents.
        Get 'em fixed in a minute,
            That is, 'f nothing perwents.
        Set your foot right there, sir.
            Mornin's kinder cold,
        Goes right through a feller,
            When his coat's a gittin' old.
        Well, yes, call it a coat, sir,
            Though 't aint much more 'n a tear.
        Git another! I can't, boss;
            Ain't got the stamps to spare.
        "Make as much as most on 'em!"
            Yes; but then, yer see,
        They've only got one to do for,
            There's two on us, Jack and me.
        Him? Why, that little feller
            With a curus lookin' back,
        Sittin' there on the gratin',
 ...

        "Yes, I'm here, I suppose you're delighted:
            You'd heard I was not coming down!
        Why I've been here a week! 'rather early'
            I know, but it's horrid in town

        A Boston? Most certainly, thank you.
            This music is perfectly sweet;
        Of course I like dancing in summer;
            It's warm, but I don't mind the heat.

        The clumsy thing! Oh! how he hurt me!
            I really can't dance any more
        Let's walk see, they're forming a Lancers;
            These square dances are such a bore.

        My cloak oh! I really don't need it
            Well, carry it, so, in the folds
        I hate it, but Ma made me bring it;
            She's frightened to death about colds.

        Old coat, for some three or four seasons
            We've been jolly comrades, but now
        We part, old companion, forever;
            To fate, and the fashion, I bow.
        You'd look well enough at a dinner,
            I'd wear you with pride at a ball;
        But I'm dressing to-night for a wedding
            My own and you'd not do at all.

        You've too many wine-stains about you,
            You're scented too much with cigars,
        When the gas-light shines full on your collar,
            It glitters with myriad stars,
        That wouldn't look well at my wedding;
            They'd seem inappropriate there
        Nell doesn't use diamond powder,
            She tells me it ruins the hair.

        You've been out...

        What has become of the children all?
            How have the darlings vanished?
        Fashion's pied piper, with magical air,
        Has wooed them away, with their flaxen hair
        And laughing eyes, we don't know where,
            And no one can tell where they're banished.

        "Where are the children?" cries Madam Haut-ton,
            "Allow me, my sons and daughters,
        Fetch them, Annette!" What, madam, those?
        Children! such exquisite belles and beaux:
        True, they're in somewhat shorter clothes
            Than the most of Dame Fashion's supporters.

        Good day, Master Eddy! Young man about town,
            A merchant down in the swamp's son;
        In a neat little book he makes neat little bets:
   ...

        Shining patent-leather,
            Tie of spotless white;
        Through the muddy weather
            Rushing 'round till night.
        Gutters all o'erflowing,
            Like Niagara Falls;
        Bless me! this is pleasant,
            Making New Year's calls.

        Rushing up the door-step,
            Ringing at the bell
        "Mrs. Jones receive to-day?"
            "Yes, sir." "Very well."
        Sending in your pasteboard,
            Waiting in the halls,
        Bless me! this is pleasant,
            Making New Year's calls.

        Skipping in the parlour,
            Bowing to the floor,
        Lady of the house there,
            Half a dozen more;
        Ladies' dresses gorgeous,
        ...

        I.
        LOVE'S YOUNG DREAM. A.D. 1880.


        "Thank you much obliged, old boy,
            Yes, it's so; report says true.
        I'm engaged to Nell Latine
            What else could a fellow do?
        Governor was getting fierce;
            Asked me, with paternal frown,
        When I meant to go to work,
            Take a wife, and settle down.
        Stormed at my extravagance,
            Talked of cutting off supplies
        Fairly bullied me, you know
            Sort of thing that I despise.
        Well, you see, I lost worst way
            At the races Governor raged
        So, to try and smooth him down,
            I went off, and got engaged.
        Sort of put-up job, you know
            All ar...

        Ten o'clock! Well, I'm sure I can't help it!
            I'm up go away from the door!
        Now, children, I'll speak to your mother
            If you pound there like that any more.

        How tired I do feel? Where's that cushion?
            I don't want to move from this chair;
        I wish Marie'd make her appearance!
            I really can't do my own hair.

        I wish I'd not danced quite so often
            I knew I'd feel tired! but it's hard
        To refuse a magnificent dancer
            If you have a place left on your card.

        I was silly to wear that green satin,
            It's a shame that I've spotted it so
        All down the front breadth it's just ruined
            No trimming will hide th...

        Summer is over, and the leaves are falling,
            Gold, fire-enamelled in the glowing sun;
        The sobbing pinetop, the cicada calling
            Chime men to vesper-musing, day is done.

        The fresh, green sod, in dead, dry leaves is hidden;
            They rustle very sadly in the breeze;
        Some breathing from the past comes, all unbidden,
            And in my heart stir withered memories.

        Day fades away; the stars show in the azure,
            Bright with the glow of eyes that know not tears,
        Unchanged, unchangeable, like God's good pleasure,
            They smile and reck not of the weary years.

        Men tell us that the stars it knows are leaving
            Our onward rolling globe, and in their pla...

        Old lady, put your glasses on,
            With polished lenses, mounting golden,
        And once again look slowly through
            The album olden.

        How the old portraits take you back
            To friends who once would 'round you gather
        All scattered now, like frosted leaves
            In blustering weather.

        Why, who is this, the bright coquette?
            Her eyes with Love's bright arrows laden
        "Poor Nell, she's living single yet,
            An ancient maiden."

        And this, the fragile poetess?
            Whose high soul-yearnings nought can smother
        "She's stouter far than I am now,
            A kind grandmother."

        Who is this girl with flowing curls,
    ...

        A canvas-back duck, rarely roasted, between us,
            A bottle of Chambertin, worthy of praise
        Less noble a wine at our age would bemean us
            A salad of celery en mayonnaise,
        With the oysters we've eaten, fresh, plump, and delicious,
            Naught left of them now but a dream and the shells;
        No better souper e'en Lucullus could wish us
            Why, even our waiter regards us as swells.

        Your dress is a marvel, your jewels show finely,
            Your friends in the circle all envied your box;
        You say Lilli Lehman sang quite too divinely
            I know I can't lose on that last deal in stocks.
        Without waits our footman to call for our carriage
            Gad, how h...

        The lights blaze high in our brilliant rooms;
            Fair are the maidens who throng our halls;
        Soft, through the warm and perfumed air,
            The languid music swells and falls.
        The "Seventh" dances and flirts to-night
            All we are fit for, so they say,
        We fops and weaklings, who masquerade
            As soldiers, sometimes, in black and gray.

        We can manage to make a street parade,
            But, in a fight, we'd be sure to run.
        Defend you! pshaw, the thought's absurd!
            How about April, sixty-one?
        What was it made your dull blood thrill?
            Why did you cheer, and weep, and pray?
        Why did each pulse of your hearts mark time
            To the tramp of th...

        "Hey, Johnny McGinnis, where are yez?
            I've got a place! Arrah, be quick!"
        Whiz! Boom! "Hooray, there goes a rocket;
            Hi, Johnny, look out for the shtick!"
        "Confound it, sir! Those are my feet, sir!"
            "Oh, pa, lift me up, I can't see."
        "Come down out o' that, yez young blackguards!
            Div yez want to be killin' the tree?"
        "Hooray! look at that?" "Aint it bully!"
            "It's stuck!" "No, it aint." "There she goes!"
        "I wish that you'd speak to this man, Fred,
            He's standing all over my toes."
        "Take down that umbrella in front there!"
            "My! aint we afraid of our hat!"
        "Me heart's fairly broke wid yez shovin'
            Have done now wh...

        I had come from the city early
                That Saturday afternoon;
            I sat with Beatrix under the trees
            In the mossy orchard; the golden bees
        Buzzed over clover-tops, pink and pearly;
                I was at peace, and inclined to spoon.

        We were stopping awhile with mother,
                At the quiet country place
            Where first we'd met, one blossomy May,
            And fallen in love so the dreamy day
        Brought to my memory many another
                In the happy time when I won her grace.

        Days in the bright Spring weather,
                When the twisted, rough old tree
        Showered down apple-blooms, dainty and sweet,
            That swung in her hair, and blushed ...

        I'd wandered, for a week or more,
            Through hills, and dells, and doleful green'ry,
        Lodging at any carnal door,
            Sustaining life on pork, and scenery.
        A weary scribe, I'd just let slip
            My collar, for a short vacation,
        And started on a walking trip,
            That cheapest form of dissipation

        And vilest, Oh! confess my pen,
            That I, prosaic, rather hate your
        "Ode to a Sky-lark" sort of men;
            I really am not fond of Nature.
        Mad longing for a decent meal
            And decent clothing overcame me;
        There came a blister on my heel
            I gave it up; and who can blame me?

        Then wrote my "Pulse of Nature's Heart,"
  ...

        You remember the nursery legend
            We heard in the early days,
        Ere we knew of the world's deception
            Or walked in its dusty ways,
        And dwelt in a land of the fairies
            Where the air was golden haze

        Of the maid, o'er whom the Summers
            Of youth passed, like a swell
        Of melody all unbroken,
            Till evil wrought its spell,
        And dream-embroidered curtains
            Of slumber round her fell.

        The wood grew up round her castle,
            The centuries o'er it rolled,
        Wrapping its slumb'rous turrets
            In clinging robes of mould,
        And her name became a legend
            By Winter fire-sides told.

        Till t...

        The Spring has grown to Summer;
            The sun is fierce and high;
        The city shrinks, and withers
            Beneath the burning sky.
        Ailantus trees are fragrant,
            And thicker shadows cast,
        Where berry-girls, with voices shrill,
            And watering carts go past.

        In offices like ovens
            We sit without our coats;
        Our cuffs are moist and shapeless,
            No collars binds our throats.
        We carry huge umbrellas
            On Broad Street and on Wall,
        Oh, how thermometers go up!
            And, oh, how stocks do fall!

        The nights are full of music,
            Melodious Teuton troops
        Beguile us, calmly smoking,
      ...

        The evenings are damper and colder;
            The maples and sumacs are red,
        The wild Equinoctial is coming,
            The flowers in the garden are dead.
        The steamers are all overflowing,
            The railroads are all loaded down,
        And the beauties we've sighed for all Summer
            Are hurrying back into town.

        They come from the banks of the Hudson,
            From the sands of the Branch, and Cape May,
        From the parlors of bright Saratoga,
            From the dash of Niagara's spray.
        From misty, sea-salt Narragansett,
            From Mahopac's magical lake.
        They come on their way to new conquests,
            They're longing for more hearts to break.

        E'en Newpo...

        Oh! he was a student of mystic lore;
            And she was a soulful girl
        All nerves and mind, of the cultured kind
            The paragon, pride, and pearl.

        They loved with a neo-Concordic love,
            Woofed weirdly with wistful woe.
        They sat in a glen, remote from men,
            Their converse was high and low.

        "What marvellous words of marvellous love,
            Speak marvellous souls like these?"
        I drew me nigh till their faintest sigh
            Was heard with the greatest ease.

        "'Oo's 'ittle white lammy is 'oo?" breathed he;
            "'Oors. 'Oo's lovey-dovey is 'oo?"
        "'Oors! 'Oors! Would 'oo k'y if dovey should die?"
            "No'p! tause 'ittle lammy'd die ...