'T was all in vain with might and main
He strove to reach the shore;
Down, down he went, to feed the fish
He'd baited oft before!
The jury gave their verdict, that
'T was nothing else but gin,
That caused the fisherman to be
So sadly taken in;
Though one stood out upon a whim,
And said the angler's slaughter,
To be exact about the fact,
Was clearly gin-and-water.
The moral of this mournful tale,
To all is plain and clear,—
That drinking habits bring a man
Too often to his bier;
And he who scorns to "take the pledge,"
And keep the promise fast,
May be, in spite of fate, a stiff
Cold-water man, at last!
J. G. Saxe.
CCCLXVII.
WHITTLING.
The Yankee boy, before he's sent to school,
Well knows the mysteries of that magic tool,
The pocket-knife. To that his wistful eye
Turns, while he hears his mother's lullaby;
His hoarded cents he gladly gives to get it,
Then leaves no stone unturned till he can whet it;
And, in the education of the lad,
No little part that implement hath had,—
His pocket-knife to the young whittler brings
A growing knowledge of material things.
Projectiles, music, and the sculptor's art,
His chestnut whistle and his shingle dart,
His elder pop-gun with its hickory rod,
its sharp explosion and rebounding wad,
His corn-stalk fiddle, and the deeper tone
That murmurs from his pumpkin-stalk trombone,
Conspire to teach the boy. To these succeed
His bow, his arrow of a feathered reed,
His windmill, raised the passing breeze to win,
His water-wheel, that turns upon a pin;
Or, if his father lives upon the shore,
You'll see his ship, "beam ends upon the floor,"
Full rigged, with raking masts, and timbers stanch
And waiting, near the wash-tub, for a launch.
Thus, by his genius and his jack-knife driven,
Ere long he'll solve you any problem given;
Make any jim-crack, musical or mute,
A plough, a couch, an organ or a flute;
Make you a locomotive or a clock,
Cut a canal, or build a floating dock,
Or lead forth Beauty from a marble block;—
Make anything, in short, for sea or shore,
From a child's rattle, to a seventy-four;—
Make it, said I?—Ay, when he undertakes it,
He'll make the thing, and the machine that makes it.