PROLOGUE.

161

Lords of creation, whom your ladies rule,

The world's great masters, when you're out of school, —— Learn the brief moral of our evening's play:

Man has his will, but woman has her way!

While man's dull spirit toils in smoke and fire,
Woman's swift instinct threads the electric wire,
The magic bracelet stretched beneath the waves
Beats the black giant with his score of slaves.
All earthly powers confess your sovereign art
But that one rebel, woman's wilful heart.

All foes you master; but a woman's wit

Lets daylight through you ere you know you're hit.
So, just to picture what her art can do,
Hear an old story, made as good as new.

Rudolph, professor of the headsman's trade,
Alike was famous for his arm and blade.
One day a prisoner Justice had to kill

Knelt at the block to test the artist's skill.
Bare-armed, swart-visaged, gaunt, and shaggy-browed,
Rudolph the headsman rose above the crowd.
His falchion lightened with a sudden gleam,
As the pike's armor flashes in the stream.
He sheathed his blade; he turned as if to go;
The victim knelt, still waiting for the blow.

K

"Why strikest not? Perform thy murderous act," The prisoner said. (His voice was slightly cracked.) "Friend, I have struck," the artist straight replied; "Wait but one moment, and yourself decide."

He held his snuff-box, "Now then, if you please!" The prisoner sniffed, and, with a crashing sneeze,

Woman! thy falchion is a glittering eye;
If death lurk in it, O, how sweet to die!
Thou takest hearts as Rudolph took the head;
We die with love, and never dream we 're dead!

THE OLD MAN OF THE SEA.

A NIGHTMARE DREAM BY DAYLIGHT.

Do you know the Old Man of the Sea, of the Sea?
Have you met with that dreadful old man?
If you have n't been caught, you will be, you will be;
For catch you he must and he can.

He does n't hold on by your throat, by your throat,
As of old in the terrible tale;

But he grapples you tight by the coat, by the coat,
Till its buttons and button-holes fail.

There's the charm of a snake in his eye, in his eye,

And a polypus-grip in his hands ;

You cannot go back, nor get by, nor get by,

If you look at the spot where he stands.

O, you're grabbed! See his claw on your sleeve, on

your sleeve!

It is Sinbad's Old Man of the Sea!

You're a Christian, no doubt you believe, you believe: You're a martyr, whatever you be!

Is the breakfast-hour past? They must wait, they

must wait,

While the coffee boils sullenly down,

While the Johnny-cake burns on the grate, on the

grate,

And the toast is done frightfully brown.

Yes, your dinner will keep; let it cool, let it cool,
And Madam may worry and fret,

And children half-starved go to school, go to school;

He can't think of sparing you yet.

Hark! the bell for the train! "Come along! Come

along!

For there is n't a second to lose."

"ALL ABOARD!" (He holds on.)

"Fsht! ding-dong!

You can follow on foot, if you choose.

-There's a maid with a cheek like a peach, like a peach,

That is waiting for you in the church;

But he clings to your side like a leech, like a leech,
And you leave your lost bride in the lurch.

THE DEACON'S MASTERPIECE:

OR THE WONDERFUL "ONE-HOSS SHAY.

A LOGICAL STORY.

HAVE you heard of the wonderful one-hoss shay, That was built in such a logical way

It ran a hundred years to a day,

And then, of a sudden, it

ah, but stay,

I'll tell you what happened without delay,

Scaring the parson into fits,

Frightening people out of their wits,

Have you ever heard of that, I say?

Seventeen hundred and fifty-five.
Georgius Secundus was then alive,
Snuffy old drone from the German hive.
That was the year when Lisbon-town
Saw the earth open and gulp her down,
And Braddock's army was done so brown,

Left without a scalp to its crown.