Riley Songs of Friendship Part 3

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[Ill.u.s.tration: The old-fas.h.i.+oned Bible--headpiece]

THE OLD-FAs.h.i.+ONED BIBLE

How dear to my heart are the scenes of my childhood That now but in mem'ry I sadly review; The old meeting-house at the edge of the wildwood, The rail fence, and horses all tethered thereto; The low, sloping roof, and the bell in the steeple, The doves that came fluttering out overhead As it solemnly gathered the G.o.d-fearing people To hear the old Bible my grandfather read.

The old-fas.h.i.+oned Bible-- The dust-covered Bible-- The leathern-bound Bible my grandfather read.

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[Ill.u.s.tration: The blessed old volume]

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The blessed old volume! The face bent above it-- As now I recall it--is gravely severe, Though the reverent eye that droops downward to love it Makes grander the text through the lens of a tear, And, as down his features it trickles and glistens, The cough of the deacon is stilled, and his head Like a haloed patriarch's leans as he listens To hear the old Bible my grandfather read.

The old-fas.h.i.+oned Bible-- The dust-covered Bible-- The leathern-bound Bible my grandfather read.

Ah! who shall look backward with scorn and derision And scoff the old book though it uselessly lies In the dust of the past, while this newer revision Lisps on of a hope and a home in the skies?

Shall the voice of the Master be stifled and riven?

Shall we hear but a t.i.the of the words He has said, When so long He has, listening, leaned out of Heaven To hear the old Bible my grandfather read?

The old-fas.h.i.+oned Bible-- The dust-covered Bible-- The leathern-bound Bible my grandfather read.

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[Ill.u.s.tration: Good-by er howdy-do--headpiece]

GOOD-BY ER HOWDY-DO

Say good-by er howdy-do-- What's the odds betwixt the two?

Comin'--goin', ev'ry day-- Best friends first to go away-- Grasp of hands you'd ruther hold Than their weight in solid gold Slips their grip while greetin' you.-- Say good-by er howdy-do!

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Howdy-do, and then, good-by-- Mixes jes' like laugh and cry; Deaths and births, and worst and best, Tangled their contrariest; Ev'ry jinglin' weddin'-bell Skeerin' up some funer'l knell.-- Here's my song, and there's your sigh.-- Howdy-do, and then, good-by!

Say good-by er howdy-do-- Jes' the same to me and you; 'Taint worth while to make no fuss, 'Cause the job's put up on us!

Some One's runnin' this concern That's got nothin' else to learn: Ef _He's_ willin', we'll pull through-- Say good-by er howdy-do!

[Ill.u.s.tration: Good-by er howdy-do--tailpiece]

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WHEN WE THREE MEET

When we three meet? Ah! friend of mine Whose verses well and flow as wine,-- My thirsting fancy thou dost fill With draughts delicious, sweeter still Since tasted by those lips of thine.

I pledge thee, through the chill suns.h.i.+ne Of autumn, with a warmth divine, Thrilled through as only I shall thrill When we three meet.

I pledge thee, if we fast or dine, We yet shall loosen, line by line, Old ballads, and the blither trill Of our-time singers--for there will Be with us all the Muses nine When we three meet.

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[Ill.u.s.tration: "The little man in the tinshop"--headpiece]

"THE LITTLE MAN IN THE TINSHOP"

When I was a little boy, long ago, And spoke of the theater as the "show,"

The first one that I went to see, Mother's brother it was took me-- (My uncle, of course, though he seemed to be Only a boy--I loved him so!) And ah, how pleasant he made it all!

And the things he knew that _I_ should know!-- The stage, the "drop," and the frescoed wall; The sudden flash of the lights; and oh, The orchestra, with its melody, And the lilt and jingle and jubilee Of "The Little Man in the Tinshop"!

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For Uncle showed me the "Leader" there, With his pale, bleak forehead and long, black hair; Showed me the "Second," and "'Cello," and "Ba.s.s,"

And the "B-Flat," pouting and puffing his face At the little end of the horn he blew Silvery bubbles of music through; And he coined me names of them, each in turn, Some comical name that I laughed to learn, Clean on down to the last and best,-- The lively little man, never at rest, Who hides away at the end of the string, And tinkers and plays on everything,-- That's "The Little Man in the Tinshop"!

Raking a drum like a rattle of hail, Clinking a cymbal or castanet; Chirping a twitter or sending a wail Through a piccolo that thrills me yet; Reeling ripples of riotous bells, And tipsy tinkles of triangles-- Wrangled and tangled in skeins of sound Till it seemed that my very soul spun round, As I leaned, in a breathless joy, toward my Radiant uncle, who snapped his eye And said, with the courtliest wave of his hand, "Why, that little master of all the band Is 'The Little Man in the Tinshop'!

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[Ill.u.s.tration: The orchestra, with its melody]

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"And I've heard Verdi, the Wonderful, And Paganini, and Ole Bull, Mozart, Handel, and Mendelssohn, And fair Parepa, whose matchless tone Karl, her master, with magic bow, Blent with the angels', and held her so Tranced till the rapturous Infinite-- And I've heard arias, faint and low, From many an operatic light Glimmering on my swimming sight Dimmer and dimmer, until, at last, I still sit, holding my roses fast For 'The Little Man in the Tinshop.'"

Oho! my Little Man, joy to you-- And _yours_--and _theirs_--your lifetime through!

Though _I've_ heard melodies, boy and man, Since first "the show" of my life began, Never yet have I listened to Sadder, madder, or gladder glees Than your unharmonied harmonies; For yours is the music that appeals To all the fervor the boy's heart feels-- All his glories, his wildest cheers, His bravest hopes, and his brightest tears; And so, with his first bouquet, he kneels To "The Little Man in the Tinshop."

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[Ill.u.s.tration: Tommy Smith--headpiece]

TOMMY SMITH

Dimple-cheeked and rosy-lipped, With his cap-rim backward tipped, Still in fancy I can see Little Tommy smile on me-- Little Tommy Smith.

Little unsung Tommy Smith-- Scarce a name to rhyme it with; Yet most tenderly to me Something sings unceasingly-- Little Tommy Smith.