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TIDINGS OF GOOD

Old Nick from his place of last resort Came up and looked the world over.

He saw how the grass of the good was short And the wicked lived in clover.

And he gravely said: "This is all, all wrong, And never by me intended.

If to me the power should ever belong I shall have this thing amended."

He looked so solemn and good and wise As he made this observation That the men who heard him believed their eyes Instead of his reputation.

So they bruited the matter about, and each Reported the words as nearly As memory served--with additional speech To bring out the meaning clearly.

The consequence was that none understood, And the wildest rumors started Of something intended to help the good And injure the evil-hearted.

Then Robert Morrow was seen to smile With a bright and lively joyance.

"A man," said he, "that is free from guile Will now be free from annoyance.

"The Featherstones doubtless will now increase And multiply like the rabbits, While jailers, deputy sheriffs, police, And writers will form good habits.

"The widows more easily robbed will be, And no juror will ever heed 'em, But open his purse to my eloquent plea For security, gain, or freedom."

When Benson heard of the luck of the good (He was eating his dinner) he muttered: "It cannot help _me_, for 'tis understood My bread is already buttered.

"My plats of surveys are all false, they say, But that cannot greatly matter To me, for I'll tell the jurors that they May lick, if they please, my platter."

ARBORICULTURE

[Californians are asking themselves how Joaquin Miller will make the trees grow which he proposes to plant in the form of a Maltese cross on Goat Island, in San Francisco Bay.--_New York Graphic_.]

You may say they won't grow, and say they'll decay-- Say it again till you're sick of the say, Get up on your ear, blow your blaring bazoo And hire a hall to proclaim it; and you May stand on a stump with a lifted hand As a pine may stand or a redwood stand, And stick to your story and cheek it through.

But I point with pride to the far divide Where the Snake from its groves is seen to glide-- To Mariposa's arboreal suit, And the shaggy shoulders of Shasta Butte, And the feathered firs of Siskiyou; And I swear as I sit on my marvelous hair-- I roll my marvelous eyes and swear, And sneer, and ask where would your forests be To-day if it hadn't been for me!

Then I rise tip-toe, with a brow of brass, Like a bully boy with an eye of glass; I look at my gum sprouts, red and blue, And I say it loud and I say it low: "They know their man and you bet they'll grow!"

A SILURIAN HOLIDAY

'Tis Master Fitch, the editor; He takes an holiday.

Now wherefore, venerable sir, So resolutely gay?

He lifts his head, he laughs aloud, Odzounds! 'tis drear to see!

"Because the Boodle-Scribbler crowd Will soon be far from me.

"Full many a year I've striven well To freeze the caitiffs out By making this good town a Hell, But still they hang about.

"They maken mouths and eke they grin At the dollar limit game; And they are holpen in that sin By many a wicked dame.

"In sylvan bowers hence I'll dwell My bruised mind to ease.

Farewell, ye urban scenes, farewell!

Hail, unfamiliar trees!"

Forth Master Fitch did bravely hie, And all the country folk Besought him that he come not nigh The deadly poison oak!

He smiled a cheerful smile (the day Was straightway overcast)-- The poison oak along his way Was blighted as he passed!

REJECTED

When Dr. Charles O'Donnell died They sank a box with him inside.

The plate with his initials three Was simply graven--"C.O.D."

That night two demons of the Pit Adown the coal-hole shunted it.

Ten million million leagues it fell, Alighting at the gate of Hell.

Nick looked upon it with surprise, A night-storm darkening his eyes.

"They've sent this rubbish, C.O.D.-- I'll never pay a cent!" said he.

JUDEX JUDICATUS

Judge Armstrong, when the poor have sought your aid, To be released from vows that they have made In haste, and leisurely repented, you, As stern as Rhadamanthus (Minos too, And aeeacus) have drawn your fierce brows down And petrified them with a moral frown!

With iron-faced rigor you have made them run The gauntlet of publicity--each Hun Or Vandal of the public press allowed To throw their households open to the crowd And bawl their secret bickerings aloud.

When Wealth before you suppliant appears, Bang! go the doors and open fly your ears!

The blinds are drawn, the lights diminished burn, Lest eyes too curious should look and learn That gold refines not, sweetens not a life Of conjugal brutality and strife-- That vice is vulgar, though it gilded shine Upon the curve of a judicial spine.

The veiled complainant's whispered evidence, The plain collusion and the no defense, The sealed exhibits and the secret plea, The unrecorded and unseen decree, The midnight signature and--_chink! chink! chink!_-- Nay, pardon, upright Judge, I did but think I heard that sound abhorred of honest men; No doubt it was the scratching of your pen.

O California! long-enduring land, Where Judges fawn upon the Golden Hand, Proud of such service to that rascal thing As slaves would blush to render to a king-- Judges, of judgment destitute and heart, Of conscience conscious only by the smart From the recoil (so insight is enlarged) Of duty accidentally discharged;-- Invoking still a "song o' sixpence" from The Scottish fiddle of each lusty palm, Thy Judges, California, skilled to play This silent music, through the livelong-day Perform obsequious before the rich, And still the more they scratch the more they itch!

ON THE WEDDING OF AN AeRONAUT

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