Poems of James McIntyre Part 29

His last great effort did prevail, He raised it safe beyond the rail, Into a snug and hollow spot, A place seem'd formed for a child's cot.

This dog of n.o.ble mastiff breed, For his own safety took no heed, But at approaching train did bark, To make them to his troubles hark.

The engineer did sad bewail, To see the dog still on the rail, A moment more the beast is slain, Cut in two by the cruel train.

The engineer now shuts off steam For to investigate the theme, That caused the dog to die at post, Finds to save child its life it lost.

Faithful in the cause of duty, Saving life of little beauty, A little darling three year old, More precious than her weight in gold.

On track she wandered for to play, But soon she in quiet slumber lay, And all the efforts of old Towser, Were not able to arouse her.

The mother now in agony wild, Rushed down to train to find her child, There she found it sweetly sleeping, While some for faithful dog were weeping.

And a brave man was engineer, For he himself knew not of fear, But his heart was filled with pain, Because the n.o.ble dog was slain.

LEACH THE ENGINEER.

The engineer who drives the train, From scalds he oft doth suffer pain, And they are more n.o.ble scars, Than hirelings gain in foreign wars.

Our hero's name should live forever, Train wrecked in Columbia River, And fatal scalded was Frank Leach, In mid the river far from beach.

Heroic deed it should be sung.

Though his flesh in ribbons hung, He saw a man who could not swim, And he resolved to rescue him.

And success his efforts crowned, He saved the man from being drowned, For him upon his back he bore, And boldly swam with him to sh.o.r.e.

Heroic deed we now enroll, And grave it deep on fame's scroll, For this great truth we wish to teach, High 'mong our heroes ranks Frank Leach.

When he had but short time to live, His strength and skill he both did give, His poor fellow man to save, From laying in a watery grave.

The heroes oft in days of old, Were those who hired to fight for gold, But the true heroes we revere Doth fight for home and country dear.

JACKAL AND CHILD.

In the great Province of Bengal, The scavenger is the Jackal, For it doth love each night to feast, On the carrion of some beast.

The stench of which pollutes the air, But to this beast 'tis sweet and fair, Carca.s.s to it is source of wealth, Jackals promote the public health.

When the "Seapoys" did rebel, A strange adventure child befell, An English Colonel and his wife, They thought still distant was the strife.

And left their little girl at home, While they to distant village roam; And thus saved their lives from slaughter, But rebels carried off their daughter.

Their servant woman, a Hindoo, They knew her to be kind and true, It almost drove her crazy wild, To see them dragging off the child.

The Colonel soon he doth return, And in his breast fierce rage doth burn, He knows the child is doomed to die, But he the rebels will defy.

So quick he doth gird on his sword, And asks for blessings from the Lord, He puts his pistols in their case, And carries with him trusty brace.

Seapoys by the river side Left child to drown in rising tide, But Jackal went there for water, And spied the Colonel's daughter.

He knew the river soon would rise, So quick he carried off the prize, Though love for child he does not feel, He only wants her for a meal.

He ran with her towards the south, Carrying her in his broad mouth, The Colonel had a strong desire On this savage beast for to fire.

But from it he refrained for fear The ball might strike his little dear, He saw that brute was now weary Running with his little dearie.

So he then quickly gave it chase, And full soon then he gained the race, The coward beast then dropped the child And fled away in terror wild.

With joy Colonel he doth weep When he finds babe is still asleep, And on it neither scar nor trace Can disfigure its fair face.

And now he takes it in his arms, With joy and pride surveys its charms, We fear that kisses did it smother When he handed it to mother.

LITTLE HERO.

'Mong silver hills of Nevada There is many a wild bravado, Who oft indulge in lawless vice, And there are pearls of great price.

Rough hearts, but true at the core, There is the genuine silver ore, But it needs skill of the refiner To find pure gems in the miner.

Far from their home two children stray, Among the mountains far away, The eldest of these travellers bold, Jack Smith he was but six years old.

So far poor children went abroad, That both at last they lost their road, But their good dog the trusty Rover, By scent and search doth them discover.

Their friends they search for them in vain, Dark night comes on and heavy rain; And savage wolves around them howl, But they fear Rover's bark and growl.

On the third day the searchers hark For sounds and they hear Rover's bark, Joyous that boys were alive, And that though feeble they survive.

Miners they left their silver ore, And for more precious pearls explore, And when the children they discover, 'Tis unbounded then their pleasure.

The eldest little hero bold Had stripped his coat to keep the cold From little brother three years old, A worthy deed should be extolled.

From home they were many a league, And weak with hunger and fatigue, Each clung upon a miner's back, On their way home down mountain track.

GRAY HAIRS.