Kind words he ever had for all;
He knew no base design:

His eyes were dark and rather small,
His nose was aquiline.

He lived at peace with all mankind,
In friendship he was true;
His coat had pocket-holes behind,
His pantaloons were blue.

Unharmed, the sin which earth pollutes

He passed securely o'er,
And never wore a pair of boots
For thirty years or more.

But good old Grimes is now at rest,
Nor fears misfortune's frown:
He wore a double-breasted vest-
The stripes ran up and down.

He modest merit sought to find,
And pay it its desert:

He had no malice in his mind,
No ruffles on his shirt.

His neighbors he did not abuse-
Was sociable and gay:

He wore large buckles on his shoes,
And changed them every day.

His knowledge, hid from public gaze,
He did not bring to view,

Nor made a noise, town-meeting days,
As many people do.

His worldly goods he never threw

In trust to fortune's chances,

But lived (as all his brothers do)
In easy circumstances.

Thus undisturbed by anxious cares,
His peaceful moments ran;
And everybody said he was

A fine old gentleman.

Albert Gorton Greene

A TRAGIC STORY

There lived a sage in days of yore,
And he a handsome pigtail wore;
But wondered much, and sorrowed more,
Because it hung behind him.

He mused upon this curious case,
And swore he'd change the pigtail's place,
And have it hanging at his face,

Not dangling there behind him.

Says he, "The mystery I've found,

I'll turn me round," he turned him round;
But still it hung behind him.

Then round and round, and out and in,
All day the puzzled sage did spin;
In vain-it mattered not a pin,—
The pigtail hung behind him.

And right, and left, and round about,
And up, and down, and in, and out
He turned; but still the pigtail stout
Hung steadily behind him.

And though his efforts never slack,
And though he twist, and twirl, and tack,
Alas still faithful to his back,

The pigtail hangs behind him.

William Makepeace Thackeray

LITTLE BILLEE

There were three sailors of Bristol city
Who took a boat and went to sea.
But first with beef and captain's biscuits
And pickled pork they loaded she.

There was gorging Jack and guzzling Jimmy,
And the youngest he was little Billee.
Now when they got as far as the Equator
They'd nothing left but one split pea.

Says gorging Jack to guzzling Jimmy,
"I am extremely hungaree."
To gorging Jack says guzzling Jimmy,
"We've nothing left, us must eat we."

Says gorging Jack to guzzling Jimmy,
"With one another we shouldn't agree!
There's little Bill, he's young and tender,
We're old and tough, so let's eat he."

"Oh! Billy, we're going to kill and eat you,
So undo the button of your chemie."
When Bill received this information
He used his pocket handkerchie.

"First let me say my catechism,

Which my poor mammy taught to me." "Make haste, make haste," says guzzling Jimmy, While Jack pulled out his snickersnee.

So Billy went up to the main-top gallant mast, And down he fell on his bended knee.

He scarce had come to the twelfth commandment When up he jumps. "There's land I see:

"Jerusalem and Madagascar,

And North and South Amerikee:
There's the British flag a-riding at anchor,
With Admiral Napier, K. C. B."

So when they got aboard of the Admiral's,
He hanged fat Jack and flogged Jimmee:
But as for little Bill he made him

The Captain of a Seventy-three.

William Makepeace Thackeray

ROBINSON CRUSOE

The night was thick and hazy,
When the Piccadilly Daisy

Carried down the crew and captain in the sea;
And I think the water drowned 'em,

For they never, never found 'em,
And I know they didn't come ashore with me.

Oh! 'twas very sad and lonely When I found myself the only Population on this cultivated shore; But I've made a little tavern In a rocky little cavern,

And I sit and watch for people at the door.

I spent no time in looking

For a girl to do my cooking,

As I'm quite a clever hand at making stews;
But I had that fellow Friday

Just to keep the tavern tidy,
And to put a Sunday polish on my shoes.

I have a little garden

That I'm cultivating lard in,

As the things I eat are rather tough and dry;
For I live on toasted lizards,

Prickly pears, and parrot gizzards,

And I'm really very fond of beetle-pie.

The clothes I had were furry,

And it made me fret and worry

When I found the moths were eating off the hair; And I had to scrape and sand 'em,

And I boiled 'em and I tanned 'em, Till I got the fine morocco suit I wear.

I sometimes seek diversion

In a family excursion

With the few domestic animals you see;
And we take along a carrot

As refreshments for the parrot,
And a little can of jungleberry tea.

Then we gather as we travel
Bits of moss and dirty gravel,
And we chip off little specimens of stone;
And we carry home as prizes

Funny bugs of handy sizes,

Just to give the day a scientific tone.

If the roads are wet and muddy, We remain at home and study,For the Goat is very clever at a sum,And the Dog, instead of fighting, Studies ornamental writing,

While the Cat is taking lessons on the drum.

We retire at eleven,

And we rise again at seven;