"Boys may whistle, but girls must sing." If boys can whistle why can't girls, too? First you do that, then you do this— "Boys may whistle," but girls may not; So if boys can whistle and do it well, Girls couldn't whistle as well as I, And he said, "The reason that girls must sing And grandma laughed 'till I thought she'd ache, "Never mind, little man," I heard her say, "They will make you whistle enough some day.” "GWINE AWAY." "De Lake Sho' train am de one we is lookin' fur, boss, kase I'ze gwine to send de ole woman to Toledo. Poo' ole soul! She's been cryin' all de mawnin', kase she's gwine away from me, an' to tell de truf, I can't keep de tears outer my own eyes long 'nuff to see 'cross de depot." It was an old, old, colored man, stoop-shouldered, trembling with age. He was accompanied by his aged wife, who had on her Sunday-best and carried a bundle in her hand. She was wiping her eyes with a handkerchief, and in lieu of something better he was using his coat-sleeve. "Is your wife going on a visit ?" "Bless you, no! We would be feelin' like chill'in if it war only a visit. You see, sah, we's got so ole an' poo' dat we can't keep house nor airn a libin' any mo'. We's felt it comin' on fur a long time past, but neber 'spected de day would come when we'd have to separate." "Then she won't come back?" "Dat's what ails us. You see, I'ze got a son heah who will gib me a home, an' she's got a darter down in Toledo who will take keer of her. She'sshe's gwine away dis mawnin', an' I spect I'll neber set eyes on her no mo'. 'Tain't fur down dar, but we is poo' an' ole, an' I'ze gwine to kiss her good-bye fur de las' time. Hold up yer face, Mary, till I kiss ye! You an' me has trabbled in de same path risin' of sixty y'ars, an' now when we am grown ole an' poo', an' am waitin' fur de call, we has got to separate! Dar', dar', chile, don't take on so! It's sumthin' we can't help, an' if you sob dat way you'll broke de ole man right down. Dat's de train ober dar', an'—an’—” He put his arms around her and his tears fell on her cheek, as he said: "We slaved together, an' we has starved an' shibbered an' met trouble wid de same speerit." 'Hush, chile-it's all fur de best! Maybe de Lawd will bring us together agin. If-if he doan' do it, you'll meet me up dar in heaben. We kin trust de Lawd fur dat. If I git dar fust I'll wait fur you right at de gate, an' if you am fust taken, I know you'll watch fur me." She kissed him and clung to him like a child, and it was only when the train was ready to go that he disengaged her arms, kissed her once more, and led her to the gate, with the words: "I'll be prayin' de Lawd to be good to ye, an' I'll fink of ye ebery hour in de day." "Keep down yer sobs, chile-we can't be chill'in no mo'. Here you am-good-bye-good-bye." She went away sobbing like a child, and he passed out of the depot with big tears in his eyes and a heart almost breaking with sorrow. "I'll trust-I'll trust in de Lawd," he whispered, as he went his way. "Tell ye what, it's powerful sad on two ole folkses like us to be all broke up an' separated like dis, but we couldn't do better. Bress her dear soul! but de poo' body was well nigh done fur wid grief when I turned away de las' time!" THE KITCHEN POKER. Swate widow Fagg, one winter's night Invited a tea party, Of elegant gentility, And made the boys quite hearty; She missed her kitchen poker, And delicately hinted, that The thief was Paddy Croker. Now, Pat, he was a Grenadier, In what is called the Grey Light Horse; A stouter, cleaner, tighter lad Upon my sowl there never was. Says he unto the widdow: 66 Do you take me for a joker ? Do you think I'd come into your house Your dirty kitchen poker! Do you think an Irish gintleman But all that he could say or do Had no effect upon her. At length, says she: "Now, Pat, will you Arrah! Pat stared and started back, Your nasty kitchen poker; Your dirty, ugly poker. Touch my honor-touch my life; Here! Take your dirty poker!" ENGINEERS MAKING LOVE. R. J. BURDETTE. It's noon when Thirty-five is due, An' she comes on time like a flash of light, An' you hear her whistle "Too-tee-too!" Long 'fore the pilot swings in sight. Bill Maddon's drivin' her in to-day, You might see her blushin'; she knows it's Bill, "Tudie! Toot-ee! Tu-die! Tu!" Six-five A. M. there's a local comes, Makes up at Bristol, running east ; Every one knows who Jack White calls,— But at one-fifty-one, old Sixty-four- An' away on the furthest edge of the town "You-ou, Su-u-u-u-e!" Along at midnight a freight comes in Leaves Berlin sometime-I don't know when; But it rumbles along with a fearful din Till it reaches the Y-switch there, and then The clearest notes of the softest bell That out of a brazen goblet fell Wake Nellie Minton out of her dreams; "Nell, Nell, Nell! Nell, Nell, Nell!" |