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In the scene that ensued

I did not take a hand; But the floor it was strew'd

Like the leaves on the strand

With the cards that Ah-Sin had been hiding, In the game " he did not understand."

66

In his sleeves, which were long,

He had twenty-four packs, Which was coming it strong,

Yet I state but the facts;

And we found on his nails, which were taper, What is frequent in tapers-that's wax.

Which is why I remark,

And my language is plain, That for ways that are dark,

And for tricks that are vain,

The Heathen Chinee is peculiar :

Which the same I am free to maintain.

"JIM."

SAY there! P'r'aps
Some on you chaps
Might know Jim Wild?

Well, no offence:

Thar ain't no sense

In gittin' riled!

Jim was my chum
Up on the Bar:
That's why I come

Down from up yar,

Lookin' for Jim.

Thank ye, sir! You
Ain't of that crew,-

Blest, if you are!

Money?-Not much:
That ain't my kind:
I ain't no such.
Rum?—I don't mind,-
Seein' it's you.

Well, this yer Jim,

Did you know him?size;

Jess 'bout your

Same kind of eyes;

Well, that is strange:
Why, it's two year
Since he came here,
Sick, for a change.
Well, here's to us:
Eh?

[blocks in formation]

What's that you say?—
Why, dern it!-sho!-
No! Yes! By Jo!
Sold!

Sold! Why, you limb'
You ornery,
Dern'd old

Long-legged Jim!

GRIZZLY.

COWARD,-of heroic size,
In whose lazy muscles lies
Strength we fear and yet despise !
Savage, whose relentless tusks
Are content with acorn husks!
Robber,-whose exploits ne'er soar'd
O'er the bee's or squirrel's hoard!
Whisker'd chin, and feeble nose,—
Claws of steel on baby toes,—
Here, in solitude and shade,
Shambling, shuffling, plantigrade,
Be thy courses undismay'd.

Here, where Nature makes thy bed,
Let thy rude, half-human tread

Point to hidden Indian springs,
Lost in ferns and fragrant grasses,
Hover'd o'er by timid wings,

Where the wood-duck lightly passes, Where the wild-bee holds her sweets,

Epicurean retreats,

Fit for thee, and better than

Fearful spoils of dangerous man!

In thy fat-jowl'd deviltry

Friar Tuck shall live in thee;

Thou mayst levy tithe and dole;

Thou shalt spread the woodland cheer,

From the pilgrim taking toll;
Match thy cunning with his fear;
Eat, and drink, and have thy fill;
Yet remain an outlaw still.

JOHN HAY.

Born at Salem, Indiana, 1839—

JIM BLUDSO

(of the Prairie Belle).

WALL, no! I can't tell whar he lives,
Becase he don't live, you see;

Leastways, he's got out of the habit
Of livin' like you
and me.

Whar have you been for the last three year
That you I haven't heard folks tell
How Jimmy Bludso pass'd in his checks
The night of the Prairie Belle?

He weren't no saint,-them engineers
Is all pretty much alike,—
One wife in Natchez-under-the-Hill ́
And another one here, in Pike;
A keerless man in his talk was Jim,
And an awkward hand in a row,
But he never funk'd, and he never lied,-
I reckon he never know'd how.

And this was all the religion he had,-
To treat his engine well,

Never be pass'd on the river,

To mind the pilot's bell,

And if ever the Prairie Belle took fire-
A thousand times he swore—

He'd hold her nozzle agin the bank

Till the last soul got ashore.

All boats has their day on the Mississip,
And her day come at last,-

The Movaster was a better boat,

But the Belle she wouldn't be pass'd:
And so she come tearin' along that night-
The oldest craft on the line-

With a nigger squat on her safety-valve,
And her furnace cramm'd, rosin and pine.

The fire burst out as she clared the bar,
And burnt a hole in the night,

And quick as a flash she turn'd, and made
For that willer-bank on the right:

There was runnin' and cussin', but Jim yell'd out, Over all the infernal roar

"I'll hold her nozzle agin the bank

Till the last galoot's ashore."

Through the hot, black breath of the burnin' boat
Jim Bludso's voice was heard,

And they all had trust in his cussedness,
And know'd he would keep his word:
And, sure's you're born, they all got off
Afore the smokestacks fell,—

And Bludso's ghost went up alone
In the smoke of the Prairie Belle.

He weren't no saint,-but at jedgment
I'd run my chance with Jim,
'Longside of some pious gentlemen

That wouldn't shook hands with him :
He seen his duty, a dead-sure thing,-
And went for it thar and then;
And Christ ain't going to be too hard
On a man that died for men.

Z

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