| 'Twas on Lake Erie's broad expanse |
| One bright midsummer day, |
| The gallant steamer Ocean Queen |
| Swept proudly on her way. |
| Bright faces clustered on the deck, |
| Or, leaning o'er the side, |
| Watched carelessly the feathery foam |
| That flecked the rippling tide. |
| |
| Ah, who beneath that cloudless sky, |
| That smiling bends serene, |
| Could dream that danger, awful, vast, |
| Impended o'er the scene; |
| Could dream that ere an hour had sped |
| That frame of sturdy oak |
| Would sink beneath the lake's blue waves, |
| Blackened with fire and smoke? |
| |
| A seaman sought the captain's side, |
| A moment whispered low; |
| The captain's swarthy face grew pale; |
| He hurried down below. |
| Alas, too late! Though quick, and sharp, |
| And clear his orders came, |
| No human efforts could avail |
| To quench th' insidious flame. |
| |
| The bad news quickly reached the deck, |
| It sped from lip to lip, |
| And ghastly faces everywhere |
| Looked from the doomed ship. |
| "Is there no hope, no chance of life?" |
| A hundred lips implore; |
| "But one," the captain made reply, |
| "To run the ship on shore." |
| |
| A sailor, whose heroic soul |
| That hour should yet reveal, |
| By name John Maynard, eastern-born, |
| Stood calmly at the wheel. |
| "Head her southeast!" the captain shouts, |
| Above the smothered roar, |
| "Head her southeast without delay! |
| Make for the nearest shore!" |
| |
| No terror pales the helmsman's cheek, |
| Or clouds his dauntless eye, |
| As, in a sailor's measured tone, |
| His voice responds, "Ay! ay!" |
| Three hundred souls, the steamer's freight, |
| Crowd forward wild with fear, |
| While at the stern the dreaded flames |
| Above the deck appear. |
| |
| John Maynard watched the nearing flames, |
| But still with steady hand |
| He grasped the wheel, and steadfastly |
| He steered the ship to land. |
| "John Maynard, can you still hold out?" |
| He heard the captain cry; |
| A voice from out the stifling smoke |
| Faintly responds, "Ay! ay!" |
| |
| But half a mile! a hundred hands |
| Stretch eagerly to shore. |
| But half a mile! That distance sped |
| Peril shall all be o'er. |
| But half a mile! Yet stay, the flames |
| No longer slowly creep, |
| But gather round that helmsman bold, |
| With fierce, impetuous sweep. |
| |
| "John Maynard!" with an anxious voice |
| The captain cries once more, |
| "Stand by the wheel five minutes yet, |
| And we shall reach the shore." |
| Through flame and smoke that dauntless heart |
| Responded firmly still, |
| Unawed, though face to face with death, |
| "With God's good help I will!" |
| |
| The flames approach with giant strides, |
| They scorch his hand and brow; |
| One arm, disabled, seeks his side, |
| Ah! he is conquered now. |
| But no, his teeth are firmly set, |
| He crushes down his pain, |
| His knee upon the stanchion pressed, |
| He guides the ship again. |
| |
| One moment yet! one moment yet! |
| Brave heart, thy task is o'er, |
| The pebbles grate beneath the keel, |
| The steamer touches shore. |
| Three hundred grateful voices rise |
| In praise to God that He |
| Hath saved them from the fearful fire, |
| And from the engulfing sea. |
| |
| But where is he, that helmsman bold? |
| The captain saw him reel, |
| His nerveless hands released their task, |
| He sank beside the wheel. |
| The wave received his lifeless corse, |
| Blackened with smoke and fire. |
| God rest him! Never hero had |
| A nobler funeral pyre! |
| |
| Horatio Alger, Jr. |
| Piller fights is fun, I tell you; |
| There isn't anything I'd rather do |
| Than get a big piller and hold it tight, |
| Stand up in bed and then just fight. |
| |
| Us boys allers have our piller fights |
| And the best night of all is Pa's lodge night. |
| Soon as ever he goes, we say "Good night," |
| Then go right upstairs for a piller fight. |
| |
| Sometimes maybe Ma comes to the stairs |
| And hollers up, "Boys, have you said your prayers?" |
| And then George will holler "Yes, Mamma," for he always has; |
| Good deal of preacher about George, Pa says. |
| |
| Ma says "Pleasant dreams," and shuts the door; |
| If she's a-listenin' both of us snore, |
| But as soon as ever she goes we light a light |
| And pitch right into our piller fight. |
| |
| We play that the bed is Bunker Hill |
| And George is Americans, so he stands still. |
| But I am the British, so I must hit |
| As hard as ever I can to make him git. |
| We played Buena Vista one night— |
| Tell you, that was an awful hard fight! |
| |
| Held up our pillers like they was a flag, |
| An' hollered, "Little more grape-juice, Captain Bragg!" |
| That was the night that George hit the nail— |
| You just ought to have seen those feathers sail! |
| |
| I was covered as white as flour, |
| Me and him picked them up for 'most an hour; |
| Next day when our ma saw that there mess |
| She was pretty mad, you better guess; |
| |
| And she told our pa, and he just said, |
| "Come right on out to this here shed." |
| Tell you, he whipped us till we were sore |
| And made us both promise to do it no more. |
| |
| That was a long time ago, and now lodge nights |
| Or when Pa's away we have piller fights, |
| But in Buena Vista George is bound |
| To see there aren't any nails anywhere 'round. |
| |
| Piller fights is fun, I tell you; |
| There isn't anything I'd rather do |
| Than get a big piller and hold it tight, |
| Stand up in bed, and then just fight. |
| |
| D.A. Ellsworth. |
| You bad leetle boy, not moche you care |
| How busy you're kipin' your poor gran'pere |
| Tryin' to stop you ev'ry day |
| Chasin' de hen aroun' de hay. |
| W'y don't you geev' dem a chance to lay! |
| Leetle Bateese! |
| |
| Off on de fiel' you foller de plough, |
| Den we'en you're tire, you scare de cow, |
| Sickin' de dog till dey jamp de wall |
| So de milk ain't good for not'ing at all, |
| An' you're only five an' a half this fall— |
| Leetle Bateese! |
| |
| Too sleepy for sayin' de prayer tonight? |
| Never min', I s'pose it'll be all right; |
| Say dem to-morrow—ah! dere he go! |
| Fas' asleep in a minute or so— |
| An' he'll stay lak dat till the rooster crow— |
| Leetle Bateese. |
| |
| Den wake up right away, toute suite, |
| Lookin' for somethin' more to eat, |
| Makin' me t'ink of dem long-lag crane, |
| Soon as they swaller, dey start again; |
| I wonder your stomach don't get no pain, |
| Leetle Bateese. |
| |
| But see heem now lyin' dere in bed, |
| Look at de arm onderneat' hees head; |
| If he grow lak dat till he's twenty year, |
| I bet he'll be stronger than Louis Cyr |
| And beat de voyageurs leevin' here— |
| Leetle Bateese. |
| |
| Jus' feel de muscle along hees back,— |
| Won't geev' heem moche bodder for carry pack |
| On de long portage, any size canoe; |
| Dere's not many t'ings dat boy won't do, |
| For he's got double-joint on hees body too— |
| Leetle Bateese. |
| |
| But leetle Bateese! please don't forget |
| We rader you're stayin' de small boy yet. |
| So chase de chicken and mak' dem scare, |
| An' do w'at you lak wit' your ole gran'pere, |
| For w'en you're beeg feller he won't be dere— |
| Leetle Bateese! |
| |
| W.H. Drummond. |