COMPENSATION.*

You think I'm nervous, stranger? Well, I am!
If 'twa'n't for making silly people talk,
I'd get right off this pokish train and walk
From here to where I'm going-Amsterdam.

That's where I live, you see.

As for Lacrosse

(Excuse me, neighbor, I must talk or bust)Since I've been there, its three years certain, just; And now to laugh or cry is just a toss.

"Married?" Why, yes, that's where it is, you see;
I've telegraphed her I was strong and well,
And coming to her; but I did'nt tell

That I was rich. I thought I'd let that be.

It's too good luck, this is.--to last, you know;
And, stranger, if it wasn't kind of rash,
I'd bet my bottom dollar that we smash
Before-but pshaw ! excuse me, I'll go slow.

You see, when we were married, Sue and I,
I was a good mechanic, and not poor
Until I struck it, as I reckoned sure,
In an invention I was working sly.

All I could make went into that concern;
And people called me crazy for it, too,
And said I'd better stick to what I knew;
But folks will talk, and have to live and learn.

In all this world I had but one friend then,

But she stood by me nobly, through and through, And said 'twould come out right at last, she knewOne woman stanch is worth a dozen men!

'Twas tough sometimes, though when a loaf of bread Stood on the table-all the meal we had—

I should have gone, alone, quite to the bad; But, through it all, my Susan kept her head.

* For a full description of this poem, see the preceding article. It is a pathetic tribute to the glorious, true womanhood that crowns man's worthiest work.

'Twas her advice that sent me off at last-
She said she'd work her fingers to the bone,
And live for twenty mortal years alone,
Rather than give it up--thank God-that's past!

A hundred thousand and a royalty

Is what I've got for going far away;
She cheered me by her letters every day.
A million could not pay for such loyalty!

She knows I'm coming; but she doesn't know
That I am rich; and she will be there, too,

Dressed in her best-her best, my poor, dear Sue! I'll bet a hundred 'twill be calico!

"I'll dress her now!" You bet it!-but go slow;
This luck's a heap too good to last, I fear;
I shan't believe it till I'm fairly there:
The train may smash up, easy, yet, you know.

The only reason, if it don't, will be

That I'm so strongly thinking that it will. I'm nervous, say you? Just a little, still The luck is none too good for Sue, you see.

Hello! we're here!-there's Sue, by all that's grand!
Stranger, excuse me, sir, but would you mind
o go ahead, and tell her I'm behind?
I'm choking; see my eyes-you understand?

CHICAGO.-DWIGHT WILLIAMS.

HARK Hark! Hark!

From thine midnight's hush and dark,
Hear a wild, wild cry of fear

Rising on the atmosphere;
Weird and shrill the echo flies,
Louder, hoarser clamors rise;
Now a red gleam skyward darts,
Quickly throb a thousand hearts;
Now they gather on the street,
Dismal tread of trampling feet;

Fire! FIRE!! FIRE!!!·
See the red flames leaping higher.

Peal! peal! peal!

Bells of brass and bells of steel;
How they ring an awful chime
Through the dismal midnight time;
How the fiery demon gloats,
How he scorus the brazen throats
Which the dauntless firemen aim
At his surging bands of flame;
Ah! but fire is king to-night,
And the waters yield the fight.
Higher, higher, higher,
Like a tempest sweeps the fire.

Street to street,

Like a raid of horsemen fleet,
Now the fiery chargers dash;
Now their lances gleam and flash;
Attic height and cellar's gloom,
Lo! they smite with sudden doom;
Palsied limbs and tiny feet
Ruthless drive they to the street;
Food of millions they devour,
Gourmands of the midnight hour!
How they spoil

Treasured arts of time and toil !

Crash! crash! crash!

See the fiery surges lash

Cross-crowned spire and splendid dome,
Proud arcade and palace home;

Molten acres seethe and roll,

City lords no more control;

Riot-lames in fury whirl,

Toss their plumes, and madly curl

Lips of scoin at human cries,

Help imploring from the skies;
To and fro

Rolls a sea of human woc.

Fire! Fire! Fire!

Bristles every throbbing wire;
Cities list with wild surprise,
As a prostrate city lies

In her ashes low,

Breathing out her midnight woe;
Chaired and crisp her pictured walls,

Blank and drear her proudest halls,

All the land with pallor turns
As Chicago wails and burns;
Let us pray,

God, O God, thy judgments stay!

THE RESCUE OF CHICAGO.-HENRY M. Look,

I SAW the city's terror,

I heard the city's cry,

As a flame leaped out of her bosom,

Up, up to the brazen sky.

And wilder rose the tumult,

And thicker the tidings came

Chicago, queen of the cities,

Was a rolling sea of flame.

Yet higher rose the fury,

And louder the surges raved,-
Thousands were saved to suffer,

And hundreds never were saved;

'Till out of the awful burning,

A flash of lightning went,

And across to brave St. Louis

The prayer for succor was sent.

God bless thee, O true St. Louis!

So worthy thy royal name;

Back, back on the wing of the lightning,
Thy answer of rescue came;

But alas! it could not enter

Through the horrible flame and heat, For the fire had conquered the lightning, And sat in the Thunderer's seat,

God bless thee, again, St. Louis!
For resting never then;

Thou called'st to all the cities

By lightning and steam and pen:
"Ho, ho, ye hundred sisters,

Stand forth in your bravest might!
Our sister in flames is falling,

Her children are dying to-night!"

And through the mighty Republic
Thy summons went rolling on,
Till it rippled the seas in the tropics,
And ruffled the Oregon.

The distant Golden City

Called through her golden gates,

And quickly rung the answer

From the City of the Straits.

And the cities that sit in splendor
Along the Atlantic Sea,
Replying, called to the dwellers
Where the proud magnolias be.
From slumber the army started,
At the far resounding call:
"Food for a hundred thousand,”

They shouted, "and tents for all."

I heard through the next night's darkness,
The trains go thundering by,

Till they stood where the fated city
Shone red in the brazen sky;

The rich gave their abundance.

The poor their willing hands;

There was wine from all the vineyards,—
There was corn from all the lands.

At daybreak over the prairies
Re-echoed the gladsome cry.
"Ho, look unto us, ye thousands,
Ye shall not hunger nor die !"