The Old Soldier's Story: Poems and Prose Sketches Read online

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  THE OLD SOLDIER'S STORY

  _Poems and Prose Sketches_

  JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY

  Indianapolis

  The Bobbs-Merrill Company Publishers

  Copyright 1913, 1914, 1915

  James Whitcomb Riley

  Press of Braunworth & Co. Bookbinders and Printers Brooklyn, N. Y.

  TO

  GEORGE THOMPSON, ESQ.

  "_Apples ben ripe in my gardayne_"

  CONTENTS

  PAGE

  THE OLD SOLDIER'S STORY 1

  SOMEP'N COMMON-LIKE 5

  MONSIEUR LE SECRETAIRE 6

  A PHANTOM 7

  IN THE CORRIDOR 8

  LOUELLA WAINIE 9

  THE TEXT 11

  WILLIAM BROWN 12

  WHY 14

  THE TOUCH OF LOVING HANDS 15

  A TEST 16

  A SONG FOR CHRISTMAS 17

  SUN AND RAIN 19

  WITH HER FACE 20

  MY NIGHT 21

  THE HOUR BEFORE THE DAWN 22

  GOOD-BY, OLD YEAR 23

  FALSE AND TRUE 24

  A BALLAD FROM APRIL 25

  BRUDDER SIMS 27

  DEFORMED 28

  FAITH 30

  THE LOST THRILL 31

  AT DUSK 32

  ANOTHER RIDE FROM GHENT TO AIX 33

  IN THE HEART OF JUNE 36

  DREAMS 37

  BECAUSE 42

  TO THE CRICKET 43

  THE OLD-FASHIONED BIBLE 44

  UNCOMFORTED 46

  WHAT THEY SAID 48

  AFTER THE FROST 50

  CHARLES H. PHILLIPS 51

  WHEN IT RAINS 53

  AN ASSASSIN 55

  BEST OF ALL 56

  BIN A-FISHIN' 57

  UNCLE DAN'L IN TOWN OVER SUNDAY 59

  SOLDIERS HERE TO-DAY 61

  SHADOW AND SHINE 65

  THAT NIGHT 66

  AUGUST 67

  THE GUIDE 68

  SUTTER'S CLAIM 71

  HER LIGHT GUITAR 73

  WHILE CIGARETTES TO ASHES TURN 74

  TWO SONNETS TO THE JUNE-BUG 77

  AUTOGRAPHIC 79

  AN IMPROMPTU ON ROLLER SKATES 80

  WRITTEN IN BUNNER'S "AIRS FROM ARCADY" 81

  IN THE AFTERNOON 82

  AT MADAME MANICURE'S 84

  A CALLER FROM BOONE 86

  LORD BACON 98

  MY FIRST WOMERN 99

  AS WE READ BURNS 101

  TO JAMES NEWTON MATTHEWS 102

  SONG 103

  WHEN WE THREE MEET 105

  JOSH BILLINGS 106

  WHICH ANE 108

  THE EARTHQUAKE 111

  A FALL-CRICK VIEW OF THE EARTHQUAKE 112

  LEWIS D. HAYES 114

  IN DAYS TO COME 116

  LUTHER A. TODD 117

  WHEN THE HEARSE COMES BACK 121

  OUR OLD FRIEND NEVERFAIL 124

  DAN O'SULLIVAN 126

  JOHN BOYLE O'REILLY 127

  MEREDITH NICHOLSON 129

  GOD'S MERCY 130

  CHRISTMAS GREETING 131

  TO RUDYARD KIPLING 132

  THE GUDEWIFE 133

  TENNYSON 134

  ROSAMOND C. BAILEY 135

  MRS. BENJAMIN HARRISON 136

  GEORGE A. CARR 138

  TO ELIZABETH 139

  TO ALMON KEEFER 140

  TO--"THE J. W. R. LITERARY CLUB" 142

  LITTLE MAID-O'-DREAMS 143

  TO THE BOY WITH A COUNTRY 145

  CLAUDE MATTHEWS 146

  TO LESLEY 147

  THE JUDKINS PAPERS 148

  TO THE QUIET OBSERVER--ERASMUS WILSON 165

  AMERICA'S THANKSGIVING 166

  WILLIAM PINKNEY FISHBACK 168

  JOHN CLARK RIDPATH 170

  NEW YEAR'S NURSERY JINGLE 173

  TO THE MOTHER 174

  TO MY SISTER 175

  A MOTTO 176

  TO A POET ON HIS MARRIAGE 177

  ART AND POETRY 178

  HER SMILE OF CHEER AND VOICE OF SONG 179

  OLD INDIANY 180

  ABE MARTIN 183

  O. HENRY 185

  "MONA MACHREE" 186

  WILLIAM MCKINLEY 187

  BENJAMIN HARRISON 190

  LEE O. HARRIS 192

  THE HIGHEST GOOD 194

  MY CONSCIENCE 195

  MY BOY 197

  THE OBJECT LESSON 198

  THE OLD SOLDIER'S STORY

  AS TOLD BEFORE THE NEW ENGLAND SOCIETY IN NEW YORK CITY

  Since we have had no stories to-night I will venture, Mr. President,to tell a story that I have heretofore heard at nearly all thebanquets I have ever attend
ed. It is a story simply, and you must bearwith it kindly. It is a story as told by a friend of us all, who isfound in all parts of all countries, who is immoderately fond of afunny story, and who, unfortunately, attempts to tell a funny storyhimself--one that he has been particularly delighted with. Well, he isnot a story-teller, and especially he is not a funny story-teller. Hisfunny stories, indeed, are oftentimes touchingly pathetic. But to sucha story as he tells, being a good-natured man and kindly disposed, wehave to listen, because we do not want to wound his feelings bytelling him that we have heard that story a great number of times, andthat we have heard it ably told by a great number of people from thetime we were children. But, as I say, we can not hurt his feelings. Wecan not stop him. We can not kill him; and so the story generallyproceeds. He selects a very old story always, and generally tells itin about this fashion:--

  I heerd an awful funny thing the other day--ha! ha! I don't knowwhether I kin git it off er not, but, anyhow, I'll tell it to you.Well!--le's see now how the fool-thing goes. Oh, yes!--W'y, there wasa feller one time--it was durin' the army, and this feller that Istarted in to tell you about was in the war, and--ha! ha!--there was abig fight a-goin' on, and this feller was in the fight, and it was abig battle and bullets a-flyin' ever' which way, and bombshellsa-bu'stin', and cannon-balls a-flyin' 'round promiskus; and thisfeller right in the midst of it, you know, and all excited and het up,and chargin' away; and the fust thing you know along come acannon-ball and shot his head off--ha! ha! ha! Hold on here aminute!--no sir; I'm a-gittin' ahead of my story; no, no; it didn'tshoot his _head_ off--I'm gittin' the cart before the horse there--shothis _leg_ off; that was the way; shot his leg off; and down the poorfeller drapped, and, of course, in that condition was perfectlyhe'pless, you know, but yit with presence o' mind enough to know thathe was in a dangerous condition ef somepin' wasn't done fer him rightaway. So he seen a comrade a-chargin' by that he knowed, and hehollers to him and called him by name--I disremember now what thefeller's name was....

  Well, that's got nothin' to do with the story, anyway; he hollers tohim, he did, and says, "Hello, there," he says to him; "here, I wantyou to come here and give me a lift; I got my leg shot off, and I wantyou to pack me back to the rear of the battle"--where the doctorsalways is, you know, during a fight--and he says, "I want you to packme back there where I can get med-dy-cinal attention er I'm a deadman, fer I got my leg shot off," he says, "and I want you to pack meback there so's the surgeons kin take keer of me." Well--the feller,as luck would have it, ricko-nized him and run to him and throwed downhis own musket, so's he could pick him up; and he stooped down andpicked him up and kindo' half-way shouldered him and half-way helt himbetwixt his arms like, and then he turned and started back withhim--ha! ha! ha! Now, mind, the fight was still a-goin' on--and rightat the hot of the fight, and the feller, all excited, you know, likehe was, and the soldier that had his leg shot off gittin' kindo faintylike, and his head kindo' stuck back over the feller's shoulder thatwas carryin' him. And he hadn't got more'n a couple o' rods with himwhen another cannon-ball come along and tuk his head off, shoreenough!--and the curioust thing about it was--ha! ha!--that the fellerwas a-packin' him didn't know that he had been hit ag'in at all, andback he went--still carryin' the deceased back--ha! ha! ha!--to wherethe doctors could take keer of him--as he thought. Well, his cap'nhappened to see him, and he thought it was a ruther cur'ousp'ceedin's--a soldier carryin' a dead body out o' the fight--don't yousee? And so he hollers at him, and he says to the soldier, the cap'ndid, he says, "Hullo, there; where you goin' with that thing?" thecap'n said to the soldier who was a-carryin' away the feller that hadhis leg shot off. Well, his head, too, by that time. So he says,"Where you goin' with that thing?" the cap'n said to the soldier whowas a-carryin' away the feller that had his leg shot off. Well, thesoldier he stopped--kinder halted, you know, like a private soldierwill when his presidin' officer speaks to him--and he says to him,"W'y," he says, "Cap, it's a comrade o' mine and the pore feller hasgot his leg shot off, and I'm a-packin' him back to where the doctorsis; and there was nobody to he'p him, and the feller would 'a' died inhis tracks--er track ruther--if it hadn't a-been fer me, and I'ma-packin' him back where the surgeons can take keer of him; where hecan get medical attendance--er his wife's a widder!" he says, "'causehe's got his leg shot off!" Then _Cap'n_ says, "You blame fool you, he'sgot his _head_ shot off." So then the feller slacked his grip on thebody and let it slide down to the ground, and looked at it a minute,all puzzled, you know, and says, "W'y, he told me it was his leg!" Ha!ha! ha!

  SOMEP'N COMMON-LIKE

  Somep'n 'at's common-like, and good And plain, and easy understood; Somep'n 'at folks like me and you Kin understand, and relish, too, And find some sermint in 'at hits The spot, and sticks and benefits.

  We don't need nothin' extry fine; 'Cause, take the run o' minds like mine, And we'll go more on good horse-sense Than all your flowery eloquence; And we'll jedge best of honest acts By Nature's statement of the facts.

  So when you're wantin' to express Your misery, er happiness, Er anything 'at's wuth the time O' telling in plain talk er rhyme-- Jes' sort o' let your subject run As ef the Lord wuz listenun.

  MONSIEUR LE SECRETAIRE

  [JOHN CLARK RIDPATH]

  Mon cher Monsieur le Secretaire, Your song flits with me everywhere; It lights on Fancy's prow and sings Me on divinest voyagings: And when my ruler love would fain Be laid upon it--high again It mounts, and hugs itself from me With rapturous wings--still dwindlingly-- On!--on! till but a _ghost_ is there Of song, Monsieur le Secretaire!

  A PHANTOM

  Little baby, you have wandered far away, And your fairy face comes back to me to-day, But I can not feel the strands Of your tresses, nor the play Of the dainty velvet-touches of your hands.

  Little baby, you were mine to hug and hold; Now your arms cling not about me as of old-- O my dream of rest come true, And my richer wealth than gold, And the surest hope of Heaven that I knew!

  O for the lisp long silent, and the tone Of merriment once mingled with my own-- For the laughter of your lips, And the kisses plucked and thrown In the lavish wastings of your finger-tips!

  Little baby, O as then, come back to me, And be again just as you used to be, For this phantom of you stands All too cold and silently, And will not kiss nor touch me with its hands.

  IN THE CORRIDOR

  Ah! at last alone, love! Now the band may play Till its sweetest tone, love, Swoons and dies away! They who most will miss us We're not caring for-- Who of them could kiss us In the corridor?

  Had we only known, dear, Ere this long delay, Just how all alone, dear, We might waltz away, Then for hours, like this, love, We are longing for, We'd have still to kiss, love, In the corridor!

  Nestle in my heart, love; Hug and hold me close-- Time will come to part, love, Ere a fellow knows; There! the Strauss is ended-- Whirl across the floor: Isn't waltzing splendid In the corridor?

  LOUELLA WAINIE

  Louella Wainie! where are you? Do you not hear me as I cry? Dusk is falling; I feel the dew; And the dark will be here by and by: I hear no thing but the owl's hoo-hoo! Louella Wainie! where are you?

  Hand in hand to the pasture bars We came loitering, Lou and I, Long ere the fireflies coaxed the stars Out of their hiding-place on high. O how sadly the cattle moo! Louella Wainie! where are you?

  Laughingly we parted here-- "I will go this way," said she, "And you will go that way, my dear"-- Kissing her dainty hand at me-- And the hazels hid her from my view. Louella Wainie! where are you?

  Is there ever a sadder thing Than to stand on the farther brink Of twilight, hearing the marsh-frogs sing?
Nothing could sadder be, I think! And ah! how the night-fog chills one through. Louella Wainie! where are you?

  Water-lilies and oozy leaves-- Lazy bubbles that bulge and stare Up at the moon through the gloom it weaves Out of the willows waving there! Is it despair I am wading through? Louella Wainie! where are you?

  Louella Wainie, listen to me, Listen, and send me some reply, For so will I call unceasingly Till death shall answer me by and by-- Answer, and help me to find you too! Louella Wainie! where are you?

  THE TEXT

  The text: Love thou thy fellow man! He may have sinned;--One proof indeed, He is thy fellow, reach thy hand And help him in his need!

  Love thou thy fellow man. He may Have wronged thee--then, the less excuse Thou hast for wronging him. Obey What he has dared refuse!

  Love thou thy fellow man--for, be His life a light or heavy load, No less he needs the love of thee To help him on his road.

  WILLIAM BROWN

  "He bore the name of William Brown"-- His name, at least, did not go down With him that day He went the way Of certain death where duty lay.

  He looked his fate full in the face-- He saw his watery resting-place Undaunted, and With firmer hand Held others' hopes in sure command.--