"If I should sell my pony, And ride the range no more, And let my door stand open wide To the snow and the rain and sun; As I came down the sweetgrass range I heard a singing in the early dusk I heard a singing to the early stars, The joy of the riding singer I never shall forget. T. A. Daly Thomas Augustine Daly was born in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, May 28, 1871. He attended Villanova College and Fordham University (1889), leaving there at the end of his sophomore year to become a newspaper man. Since 1891 he has been on the staff of various Philadelphia journals, writing reviews, editorials, travel-notes and, most of all, running the columns in which his much-quoted verse originally appeared. Canzoni (1906) and Carmina (1909) contain the best-known of Daly's varied dialect verse. Although he has written in half a dozen different idioms including straight" English (vide Songs of Wedlock, 1916), his half-humorous, halfpathetic interpretations of the Irish and Italian immigrants are his forte. Seldom descending to caricature, Daly exhibits the features and foibles of his characters without exploiting them; even the lightest passages in McAroni Ballads (1919) are done with delicacy and a not too sentimental appreciation. THE SONG OF THE THRUSH Ah! the May was grand this mornin'! Such a land, when tree and flower tossed their kisses to the breeze? Could an Irish heart be quiet While the Spring was runnin' riot, An' the birds of free America were singin' in the trees? In the songs that they were singin' No familiar note was ringin', But I strove to imitate them an' I whistled like a lad. Oh, my heart was warm to love them For the very newness of them— For the ould songs that they helped me to forget-an' I was glad. So I mocked the feathered choir To my hungry heart's desire, An' I gloried in the comradeship that made their joy my own. Till a new note sounded, stillin' All the rest. A thrush was trillin'! Ah! the thrush I left behind me in the fields about Athlone! Where, upon the whitethorn swayin', He was minstrel of the Mayin', In my days of love an' laughter that the years have laid at rest; Here again his notes were ringin'! But I'd lost the heart for singin' Ah! the song I could not answer was the one I knew the best. MIA CARLOTTA Giuseppe, da barber, ees greata for "mash," W'enevra Giuseppe ees walk on da street, He raisa hees hat an' he shaka hees curls, Yes, playnta he gotta- Carlotta! Giuseppe, da barber, he maka da eye, Carlotta she walka weeth nose in da air, Giuseppe, da barber, he gotta da cash, You bat my life, notta Carlotta. BETWEEN TWO LOVES I gotta lov' for Angela, O! Angela ees pretta girl, An' alla time she seeng, her eyes An' makin' flirtin' looks at you- Carlotta ees no gotta song, But she ees twice so big an' strong O! my! I weesh dat Angela Was strong for carry wood, I gotta lov' for Angela, I lov' Carlotta, too. I no can marry both o' dem, Paul Laurence Dunbar Paul Laurence Dunbar was born in 1872 at Dayton, Ohio, the son of negro slaves. He was, before and after he began to write his intrepretative verse, an elevator-boy. He tried newspaper work unsuccessfully and, in 1899, Dunbar was given |