WHY POLLY DON'T LOVE CAKE.

And my stick I raised with righteous, good intent. Oh, dear! and oh, dear!

The groans that filled my ear,

As overhead and heels the frightened column went.
The cat flew out of window
The dog rushed under bed,
And Polly flapped and beat the air,
Then settled on my head;
When, underneath her wing,
From a feathered corner deep,
A bit of wedding-cake fell down,
That made poor Polly weep!

For the cat raced off to Cat-land, and was never seen again;

And the dog sneaked out beneath the bed, and scud with might and main;

And Polly sits and rolls her eyes upon her roost in fear,

And when she sees a bit of cake she always says, "Oh, dear!"

C

CHARLES FOLLEN ADAMS.

(YACOB STRAUSS.)

139

HARLES FOLLEN ADAMS has as distinct a place in the field of American humor as has Oliver Wendell Holmes, Samuel L. Clemens, Henry W. Shaw, Charles F. Browne, Robert J. Burdette, or any of the several others who have raised a laugh and the spirits of their readers. It is scarcely twenty years since "Leedle Yacob Strauss" appeared in print in the Detroit Free Press, from which it was copied instantly and almost universally by the press of the country, and its success gave him a hint as to his future line of work. It was afterwards published, with his other poems, in book form, with a series of fine illustrations, which added still more to its popularity. Mr. Adams has been a business man all his life, and his humorous writings have been the result of his hours of recreation and the natural bent of the professional part of his nature trying to get away from and outside of the business part. He is a descendant of the old Revolutionary patriot, Samuel Adams, his grandfather, Stephen Adams, having been one of the first settlers of Meredith Village, N. H. His mother was a Senter, of the Senters who originally settled at Centre Harbor, at the head of Lake Winipisiogee, and a lineal descendant of Hannah Dustin, of Haverhill, Mass., whose thrilling history among the Indians is so well known.

Mr. Adams was born in Dorchester, (Boston), Massachusetts, April 21, 1842. After receiving a common-school education, he entered a mercantile house at the age of fifteen, where he remained for five years, at which time (in August, 1862), he enlisted in the Thirteenth Massachusetts Regiment, and with it participated in the battles of Bull Run, Fredericksburg, Chancellorsville, and Gettysburg, in which latter engagement he was wounded and taken prisoner, and afterward removed to hospitals in New York and Rhode Island, and still later taken to the Convalescent Hospital in Washington, where he remained till the expiration of his term of service in August, 1864, when he was mustered out and returned home to take up his business life again. As suggested above, the literary portion of his life is really his diversion, his days being thus divided into work-days and play-days. Possibly this freedom of his literary longings from the worry of being associated with the means of bread-andbutter-getting, the curse of so many literary careers, had a great deal to do with making his work of such uniform sweetness, as well as excellence. Who shall say? This would seem to be one of the unsolved problems of a literary career. His first

effort at rhyme appeared in 1870, and his first Dutch dialect piece was printed in Our Young Folks, J. T. Trowbridge, editor, in 1872. During the next four years an occasional bit of verse appeared in the Boston papers, Oliver Optic's Magazine, Scribner's Monthly, and others. For some years after 1876, all that he wrote appeared in the Detroit Free Press, with the exception of "Hans und Fritz," which was first printed in Appleton's Journal. "Dialect Ballads," his second published volume, appeared in 1888.

Since the

latter date he has composed several individual poems, among the more important of these poems being, "Vas Marriage a Failure?" "He Gets There Shust der Same," "Yawcob's Dribulations," and "Der Coming Man." One or two of his bits of verse have been parodied in London Punch, and an English edition of "Leedle Yacob Strauss, and Other Poems," was published some time ago. Mr. Adams occasionally appears upon the platform in and about Boston in "Authors' Readings," in which he has had marked success, expression of Dutch peculiarities being as clearly done by manner and voice as by pen. It may not be out of place to remark that the dialect verse of Mr. Adams consists not alone of studies in humor. It contains an undercurrent of sympathy with human nature, which occasionally awakens a bit of pathos as delightful as it is unexpected, and which sounds the keynote of its great popular success in the fact that it touches the beating, pulsing heart of humanity. Touches of manly tenderness throughout all of his dialect verse, taken in connection with the general simplicity and ! truthfulness, answer the question as to why it has attained such great popularity.

LEEDLE YAWCOB STRAUSS.

I HAF Von funny leedle poy,
Vot gomes schust to mine knee;

Der queerest schap, der createst rogue

As efer you dit see;

E. M.

He runs, und schumps, und schmashes dings
In all barts off der house-
But vot off dot? he vas mine son,
Mine leedle Yawcob Strauss.

He get der measles und der mumbs,
Und eferyding dot's oudt

He sbills mine glass off lager bier,
Poots schnuff indo mine kraut;

He fills mine pipe mit Limburg cheese-
Dot vos der roughest chouse;

I'd dake dot vrom no oder poy But leedle Yawcob Strauss.

He dakes der milk ban for a dhrum,
Und cuts mine cane in dwo,
To make der sticks to beat it mit—
Mine cracious, dot vas drue!

I dinks mine hed vas schplit abart,
He kicks oup sooch a touse-
But nefer mind, der poys vas few
Like dot young Yawcob Strauss.

He asks me questions such as dose:
Who baints mine nose so red?
Who vos it cuts dot schmoodth blace oudt
Vrom der hair upon my hed?
Und vhere der plaze goes vrom der lamp
Vene'er der glim I douse-

How gan I all dose dings eggsblain

To dot schmall Yawcob Strauss?

I somedimes dink I schall go vild
Mit sooch a grazy poy,

Und vish vonce more I gould haf rest
Und beaceful dimes enshoy;
But ven he vas asleep in ped,

So quiet as a mouse,

I prays der Lord, "Dake anydings,
But leaf dot Yawcob Strauss."

"AH-GOO!"

Vor vas it mine baby vas trying to say,
Ven I goes to hees crib at der preak of der day?
Und oudt vrom der planket peeps ten leedle toes,
So pink und so shveet as der fresh blooming rose,
Und twisting und curling dhemselves all aboudt,
Shust like dhey vas saying: "Ve vant to get oudt!"
Vhile dot baby looks oup, mit dhose bright eyes so
plue,

Und don'd could say nodings; shust only:
"Ah-Goo!"

Vot vas id mine baby vas dinking aboudt,

When dot thumb goes so quick in hees shveet leedle mout',

Und he looks right avay like he no undershtandt Der reason he don'd could quite shvallow hees handt;

Und he digs mit dhose fingers righdt into hees eyes, Vhich fills hees oldt fader mit fear and surbrise; Und vhen mit dhose shimnasdic dricks he vas droo, He lay back und crow, und say nix budt:

"Ah-Goo!"

Vot makes dot shmall baby shmile, vhen he's ashleep;

Does he dink he vas blaying mit some von, "bopeep!"

Der nurse say dhose shmiles vas der sign he haf colic

More like dot he dhreams he vos hafing some frolic;
I feed dot oldt nurse mit creen abbles some day,
Und dhen eef she shmiles, I pelief vot she say;
Vhen dot baby got cramps he find someding to do
Oxcept shmile, und blay, und keep oup hees
"Ah-Goo!"

I ask me, somedimes, vhen I looks in dot crib:
“Vill der shirdt-frondt, von day, dake der blace off
dot bib?

Vill dot plue eyed baby, dot's pooling mine hair,
Know all vot I knows aboudt drouble and care?"
Dhen I dink off der vorldt, mit its pride und its sins,
Und I vish dot mineself und dot baby vas twins,
Und all der day long I haf nodings to do
Budt shust laugh and crow, und keep saying:
"Ah-Goo!"

HANS UND FRITZ.

HANS and Fritz were two Deutschers who lived side by side,

Remote from the world, its deceit and its pride; With their pretzels and beer their spare moments

were spent,

And the fruits of their labors were peace and content.

Hans purchased a horse of a neighbor one day,
And, lacking a part of the Geld,—as they say,—
Made a call upon Fritz to solicit a loan
To help him to pay for his beautiful roan.

Fritz kindly consented the money to lend,
And gave the required amount to his friend;
Remarking, his own simple language to quote,--
"Berhaps it vas better ve make us a note."

The note was drawn up in their primitive way,"I, Hans, gets from Fritz feefty tollars to-day;' When the question arose, the note being made, "Vich von holds dot baper until it vas baid?”

"You geeps dot," says Fritz, "und den you vill know

You owes me dot money." Says Hans, "Dot

ish so;

Dot makes me remempers I haf dot to bay,

Und I prings you der note und der money some day."

141

A month had expired, when Hans, as agreed,
Paid back the amount, and from debt he was freed.
Says Fritz, "Now dot settles us." Hans replies,
"Yaw,

Now who dakes dot baber accordings by law."

"I geeps dot now, aind't it?" says Fritz; "den, you see,

I alvays remempers you baid dot to me."
Says Hans, "Dot ish so; it vas now shust so blain,
Dot I knows vat to do ven I porrows again."

MINE VAMILY.

DIMBLED Scheeks mit eyes off plue,
Mout' like id vas moisd mit dew,
Und leedle teeth shust peekin' droo-
Dot's der baby.

Curly hed, und full off glee,
Drowsers all oudt at der knee-

He vas peen blayin' horse, you see-
Dot's leedle Otto.

Von hundord seexty in der shade, Der oder day vhen she vas veighedShe beats me soon I vas afraidDot's mine Gretchen.

Bare-footed head, und pooty stoudt, Mit grooked legs, dat vill bend oudt, Fond off his bier und sauer kraut— Dot's me himself.

Von schmall young baby, full of fun, Von leedle pright-eyed, roguish son, Von frau to greet vhen vork vas doneDot's mine vamily.

MINE SCHILDHOOD.

DER Schiltren dhey vas poot in ped,
All tucked oup for der nighdt;

I dakes mine pipe der mantel off,
Und py der fireside pright

I dinks aboudt vhen I vas young-
Off moder, who vas tead,
Und how at nighdt-like I do Hans-
She tucked me oup in ped.

I mindt me off mine fader too, Und how he yoost to say,

"Poor poy, you haf a hardt old row

To hoe, und leedle blay!"

I find me oudt dot it vas dhrue

Vat mine oldt fader said, Vhile smooding down mine flaxen hair Und tucking me in ped.

Der oldt folks! Id vas like a dhream To shpeak off dem like dot. Gretchen und I vas "oldt folks" now, Und has two schiltren got.

Ve lofes dhem more as never vas,

Each leedle curly head,

Und efry nighdt ve dakes dhem oup
Und tucks dhem in dheir ped.

Budt dhen, somedimes, vhen I feels plue, Undt all dings lonesome seem,

I vish I vas dot poy again,

Und dis vas all a dhream.

I vant to kiss mine moder vonce,
Und vhen mine brayer vas said,
To haf mine fader take me oup
Und tuck me in mine ped.

DOT SCHMALL LEETLE BABY.

DRUE as I leev, most efery day
I laugh me vild to saw der vay

My schmall young baby drie to play-
Dot funny leetle baby.

Ven I look off dem leetle toes,
Und see dot funny leetle nose,
Und hear der way dot rooster crows,

I schmile like I vas grazy.

Sometimes der comes a leetle schquall, Dot's vhen der vindy vind vill crawl Right in his leetle stchomack schmall,

Dot's too bad for der baby.

Dot makes him sing at night so schveet
Und gorry barric he must ead,
Und I must chump sphry on my feet
To help dot leetle baby.

He bulls my nose and kicks my hair,
Und grawls me ofer eferyvhere,
Und shlobbers me-but vot I care?

Dot vos my schmall young baby.

Around my head dot leetle arm
Vos schquozin me so nize and varm—
Oh! may dere never come some harm
To dot schmall leetle baby.

M

AMÉLIE RIVES CHANLER.

RS. CHANLER has enjoyed the distinction of creating the greatest furore in the literary world, of any young author of this century. From her first appearance in print, with "A Brother to Dragons," to the present time, each and every article has called forth widespread comment, with this difference, that each has in its turn been more commented upon than its predecessor.

Amélie Rives is the granddaughter of William Cabell Rives, the Congressman, Senator, and Minister-Plenipotentiary to France in the earlier half of the present century. During the reign of Louis Philippe, Mr. Rives' eldest daughter, Amélie, named for the French queen, was born. She was drowned, with her family, in 1874, on the steamer Ville du Havre. Her name was afterwards bestowed on the little daughter of Colonel Alfred Landon Rives. He also was born in Paris, and was educated chiefly in that city, being graduated from the Ecole Polytechnique, and adopting the profession of civil engineering. In 1861 he was married to Miss Macmurdo, of Virginia, a granddaughter of Bishop Moore, and a noted beauty. In 1863, in the town of Richmond, Va., was born their to be famous daughter, Amélie. Colonel Rives' profession being of an itinerant character, the early childhood of his daughter was passed mainly at the home of her grandfather at Castle Hill, Albemarle county, Va. When Amélie was six years of age, Col. Rives located his family at Mobile, Ala. Biographers of Mrs. Chanler write that this was a sad blow to her childish heart, as she had become passionately attached to her Virginian home. Amélie Rives' unfolding genius asserted itself much in the manner of other geniuses. Before she could write, she could draw, and at an early age she developed a fondness for reading, choosing Shakespeare as her standard. Writing followed reading in quick succession, though she made no hurried attempts at publication, preferring to await the more perfect development of her talents. Mrs. Chanler's characteristics are a morbid sensitiveness peculiar to highly imaginative minds, a fund of humor, passionate love of out-of-door life, and more particularly for the sea, and an unquestioning belief in, and love for her Creator. Like all artists she loves a lavish display of color, bric-a-brac and drapery, and we are told her home abounds in these. She is a fine horse-woman, and enjoys nothing better than a canter among the low-lying hills of her beloved Virginia.

About four years ago Amélie Rives was joined in wedlock to John Armstrong Chanler, a descendant