And when his ammunition's spent, The three are safe away,-- The Spaniards, crazed at their repulse, Rush in on brave Jose!
"Where, where,--and are the rebels fled, Are they escaped through _you_?"
They madly grasped the crippled boy, While flashing swords they drew.
All honor be to Cuba's sons (But let this not suffice) Who perished on the field--there's, too, The cripple's sacrifice!
MR. BUSHEL'S HOSPITALITY
Four brothers by the name of Peck, (All Mr. Bushel's kin), As often as one desires it, Are taken by him in.
Eight sisters, the Misses Gallon, When the four Peck brothers are out, In Mr. Bushel's quarters Have room to move about.
Thirty-two cousins, the Quarts--ah, me!
What _will_ Mr. Bushel do?
Polite and open, he smiles and says, "I'm alone, so there's room for _you_!"
A jingling crowd--the sixty-four Pints, To shelter them, no fun!
Mr. Bushel laughs, "I'm empty now, Walk in, come, every one!"
Two hundred and fifty-six baby Gills, The tiniest friends and shy,-- "Can we _all_ come in?" Mr. Bushel replies, "I can hold you and not half try!"
A jolly good fellow to entertain all, This Mr. Bushel must be!
He takes them only one group at a time,-- And each group _makes_ him, you see!
THE WISH-MAN
A funny little Wish-Man came out of the Somewhere here, (You really should have seen him, he looked so wondrous queer); He had a pack upon his back, stuffed full as full could be, Of wishes for the boys and girls--those living near to me.
He said he'd indirectly heard--he couldn't tell just where,-- That in the town of Discontent were many dwelling there, Who wished for this and wished for that (it really was too bad), It made but little difference what, long's 't wasn't what they had!
Accordingly, he stuffed his pack (and tied around a band), With every single kind of wish now found within the land, And fared he forth from house to house, to please the people all, And dealt out every kind of wish for which he had a call.
To one 'twas wealth--a sordid wish; another called for joy; One asked for ease; one beauty took--a worthless sort of toy!
And so he gave them this and that, and all seemed happy quite, For which the Wish-Man naturally took very keen delight.
But when a stranger passed the town of Discontent, he saw ('Twas just a short time after this) what filled him quite with awe; No merry whistle, smile nor laugh could be perceived at all,-- What dire disaster could have brought upon the town this pall!
He called upon a wealthy youth, who said, "I'm all at sea,-- What stocks to buy, how to invest--it almost crazes me!
Before a rich man I became, I had all sorts of fun, But since my wish, a moment's joy I haven't had, not one!"
And thus 'twas so all through the town. Each testified the same; Not one was half so happy as before the Wish-Man came.
"Ah, ha!" Perhaps by this you've guessed who was the stranger man; If not, by throwing out this hint, I'm very sure you can!
That night, when everything was still, there crept from room to room, Some one who gathered up each wish that caused such direful gloom, And when old Sol arose next day, and scattered sunbeams down, They fell upon--the name was changed--upon Contented Town!
A LITTLE MATHEMATICIAN
"Eight long furlongs I've gone to-day!"
With evident pride said Ethel May.
"Three hundred and twenty rods, you know, Is what I've been,"--'twas brother Joe.
"One thousand, seven hundred and sixty--true!
So many yards I've walked," said Prue.
"Five thousand, two hundred and eighty feet I've gone," said Ben, "and it can't be beat!"
"Pooh!" laughed Ted, with a knowing smile, "You've only gone, each one, a mile!"
THE CASTLE OF MY DREAMS
The castle I love is not set on a hill, No flag from its turret waves, No water flows in its outer moat, Nor its rock foundation laves.
My castle is old and its doors flap loose, As though wringing in grief its hands,-- Out by the wall, near the cherry trees, The barn of my childhood stands!
Empty the mows where from robbers fierce, We hid in the days gone by, Vacant the stall where Old Dolly stood, And watched as we played "I-spy!"
Down in the bay only cobwebs now,-- To my child eyes once so deep, Where secure from escape our prisoners found Themselves in that dungeon-keep!
Sometimes on the clean-swept floor we spread Our feasts ('twas baronial hall) Of meats and wines from far over the seas,-- Bread and water composed them all!
But never did lord or lady show Disrespect to the loyal host, By a _look_ that the board did not heavily groan With all dainties the world could boast.
A heartless echo now only sounds From rafter back to sill, When I call as I did--was it _yesterday_?-- To Rachel and Tom and Will.
It seems that each beam sadly sighs with me For the days we were wont to play, Safe from temptation (you guarded us well, Old barn,) on the new-mown hay!
THE PASTURE BARS
Down the lane to the pasture bars!
My prodigal thoughts once more Go back to my father's calling me From the narrow back stairway door: "It's getting late, Bob; the milking's done!"
(He never had more to say); With a bound to the floor I hurriedly dressed, To drive the cows away!
A nodded "Good morning" from wayside flower; From every tree a song, (A symphony rare of warbled joy), As the cows slowly browsed along!
The sun gently kissed the mist away, That over the valley hung, While odors of incense floated high, From an unseen censer swung.