DE FUST BANJO Go 'way, fiddle! folks is tired o' hearin' you a-squawkin'. Keep silence fur yo' betters! don't you heah de banjo talkin'? About de 'possum's tail she's gwine to lecter-ladies, listen! About de ha'r whut isn't dar, an' why de ha'r is missin': "Dar's gwine to be a' oberflow," said Noah, lookin' solemn― Fur Noah tuk de "Herald," an' he read de ribber column An' so he sot his hands to wuk a-clarin' timber-patches, An' 'lowed he's gwine to build a boat to beat de steamah Natchez. Ol' Noah kep' a-nailin' an' a-chippin' an' a-sawin'; An' forty days an' forty nights de rain it kep' a-drappin'. Now, Noah had done cotched a lot ob ebry sort o' beas'es Ob all de shows a-trabbelin', it beat 'em all to pieces! He had a Morgan colt an' sebral head o' Jarsey cattleAn' druv 'em 'board de Ark as soon's he heered de thun der rattle. Den sech anoder fall ob rain! It come so awful hebby, De ribber riz immejitly, an' busted troo de lebbee; De people all wuz drownded out-'cep' Noah an' de critters, An' men he'd hired to wuk de boat-an' one to mix de bitters. De Ark she kep' a-sailin' an' a-sailin' an' a-sailin'; You c'u'dn't hardly heah de mate a-bossin' 'roun' an' cussin'. Now Ham, de only nigger whut wuz runnin' on de packet, Got lonesome in de barber-shop, an' c'u'dn't stan' de racket; An' so, fur to amuse he-se'f, he steamed some wood an' bent it, An' soon he had a banjo made-de fust dat wuz invented. He wet de ledder, stretched it on; made bridge an' screws an' aprin; An' fitted in a proper neck-'twuz berry long an' taprin'; He tuk some tin, an' twisted him a thimble fur to ring it: An' den de mighty question riz: how wuz he gwine to string it? De 'possum had as fine a tail as dis dat I's a-singin'; stringin'; Dat nigger shaved 'em off as short as washday-dinner graces: An' sorted ob 'em by de size-f'om little E's to basses. He strung her, tuned her, struck a jig,-'twuz "Nebber min' de wedder," She soun' like forty-lebben bands a-playin' all togedder: Some went to pattin'; some to dancin': Noah called de figgers; An' Ham he sot an' knocked de tune, de happiest ob niggers! Now, sence dat time-it's mighty strange-dere's not de slightes' showin' Ob any ha'r at all upon de 'possum's tail a-growin'; An' curi's, too, dat nigger's ways: his people nebber los' 'em Fur whar you finds de nigger-dar's de banjo an' de 'possum! Edith M. Thomas Edith Matilda Thomas was born at Chatham, Ohio, August 12, 1854. She was educated in the Normal Institute at Geneva, Ohio, and has been living in New York since 1888. Miss Thomas is the author of some dozen books of verse, most of them lightly lyrical in mood, although many of her individual poems have a spiritually dramatic quality. The best of her work may be found in Lyrics and Sonnets (1887) and The Flower from the Ashes (1915). "FROST TO-NIGHT" Apple-green west and an orange bar; And the crystal eye of a lone, one star And, "Child, take the shears and cut what you will, Then I sally forth, half sad, half proud, The dahlias I might not touch till to-night! In my garden of Life with its all late flowers George Edward Woodberry George Edward Woodberry was born in Beverly, Mass., May 12, 1855, and studied at Harvard; his early efforts receiving the approval of James Russell Lowell. From 1891 to 1904 he was Professor of Comparative Literature at Columbia University, where he exercised a keen influence on many of the younger writers. His work is decidedly romantic and classical in style, leaning heavily toward the Tennysonian tradition. Although there is an undercurrent of spiritual beauty throughout his poetry, he frequently loses his power of exaltation in a rhetoric that is both stilted and sentimental. His chief collections of verse are The Flight and Other Poems (1900), Wild Eden (1914) and The Roamer and Other Poems (1920). He has also written several books of essays, criticism and biography. IMMORTAL LOVE Immortal Love, too high for my possessing,— And finding in my heart a place for those Of evening folds me, still their sweetness blessing. Oh, happy we, the first-born heirs of nature, |