Do you mind that fat grocer who crossed?

How he dropped down to pray In the road when he saw he was lost; How he melted away Underneath, and there rang through the fog His earsplitting squeal As he went---- Is that he or a dog, That stuff on the wheel?

The Corner Man

I dreamed a dream at the midnight deep, When fancies come and go To vex a man in his soothing sleep With thoughts of awful woe-- I dreamed that I was a corner-man Of a n.i.g.g.e.r minstrel show.

I cracked my jokes, and the building rang With laughter loud and long; I hushed the house as I softly sang An old plantation song-- A tale of the wicked slavery days Of cruelty and wrong.

A small boy sat on the foremost seat-- A mirthful youngster he; He beat the time with his restless feet To each new melody, And he picked me out as the brightest star Of the black fraternity.

"Oh father," he said, "what _would_ we do If the corner-man should die?

I never saw such a man--did you?

He makes the people cry, And then, when he likes, he makes them laugh."

The old man made reply--

"We each of us fill a very small s.p.a.ce In the great creation's plan, If a man don't keep his lead in the race There's plenty more that can; The world can very soon fill the place Of even a corner-man."

I woke with a jump, rejoiced to find Myself at home in bed, And I framed a moral in my mind From the words the old man said.

The world will jog along just the same When its corner-men are dead.

When Dacey Rode the Mule

'Twas to a small, up-country town, When we were boys at school, There came a circus with a clown, Likewise a bucking mule.

The clown announced a scheme they had Spectators for to bring-- They'd give a crown to any lad Who'd ride him round the ring.

And, gentle reader, do not scoff Nor think a man a fool-- To buck a porous-plaster off Was pastime to that mule.

The boys got on; he bucked like sin; He threw them in the dirt, What time the clown would raise a grin By asking, "Are you hurt?"

But Johnny Dacey came one night, The crack of all the school; Said he, "I'll win the crown all right, Bring in your bucking mule."

The elephant went off his trunk, The monkey played the fool, And all the band got blazing drunk When Dacey rode the mule.

But soon there rose a galling shout Of laughter, for the clown From somewhere in his pants drew out A little paper crown.

He placed the crown on Dacey's head While Dacey looked a fool; "Now, there's your crown, my lad," he said, "For riding of the mule!"

The band struck up with "Killaloe", And "Rule Britannia, Rule", And "Young Man from the Country", too, When Dacey rode the mule.

Then Dacey, in a furious rage, For vengeance on the show Ascended to the monkeys' cage And let the monkeys go; The blue-tailed ape and chimpanzee He turned abroad to roam; Good faith! It was a sight to see The people step for home.

For big baboons with canine snout Are spiteful, as a rule-- The people didn't sit it out When Dacey rode the mule.

And from the beasts that made escape, The bushmen all declare, Were born some creatures partly ape And partly native-bear.

They're rather few and far between, The race is nearly spent; But some of them may still be seen In Sydney Parliament.

And when those legislators fight, And drink, and act the fool, Just blame it on that torrid night When Dacey rode the mule.

The Mylora Elopement

By the winding Wollondilly where the weeping willows weep, And the shepherd, with his billy, half awake and half asleep, Folds his fleecy flocks that linger homewards in the setting sun, Lived my hero, Jim the Ringer, "c.o.c.ky" on Mylora Run.

Jimmy loved the super's daughter, Miss Amelia Jane McGrath.

Long and earnestly he sought her, but he feared her stern papa; And Amelia loved him truly--but the course of love, if true, Never yet ran smooth or duly, as I think it ought to do.

Watching with his slow affection once Jim saw McGrath the boss Riding out by Jim's selection, looking for a station 'oss That was running in the ranges with a mob of outlaws wild.

Old McGrath "Good day" exchanges--off goes Jim to see his child;

Says, "The old man's after Stager, which he'll find is no light job, And to-morrow I will wager he will try and yard the mob.

Will you come with me to-morrow? I will let the parson know, And for ever, joy or sorrow, he will join us here below.

"I will bring my nags so speedy, Crazy Jane and Tambourine, One more kiss--don't think I'm greedy--good-bye, la.s.s, before I'm seen-- Just one more--G.o.d bless you, dearie! Don't forget to meet me here, Life without you is but weary; now, once more, good-bye, my dear."

The daylight shines on figures twain That ride across Mylora plain, Laughing and talking--Jim and Jane.

"Steadily, darling. There's lots of time, Didn't we slip the old man prime!

I knew he'd tackle that Bowneck mob, I reckon he'll find it too big a job.

They've beaten us all. I had a try, But the warrigal devils seem to fly.

That Sambo's a real good bit of stuff No doubt, but not quite good enough.

He'll have to gallop the livelong day, To cut and come, to race and stay.

I hope he yards 'em, 'twill do him good; To see us going I don't think would."

A turn in the road and, fair and square, They meet the old man standing there.

"What's up?" "Why, running away, of course,"

Says Jim, emboldened. The old man turned, His eye with wild excitement burned.

"I've raced all day through the scorching heat After old Bowneck: and now I'm beat.

But over that range I think you'll find The Bowneck mob all run stone-blind.

Will you go and leave the mob behind?

Which will you do? Take the girl away, Or ride like a white man should to-day, And yard old Bowneck? Go or stay?"

Says Jim, "I can't throw this away, We can bolt some other day, of course, Amelia Jane, get off that horse.

Up you get, Old Man. Whoop, halloo.

Here goes to put old Bowneck through!"

Two distant specks on the mountain side, Two stockwhips echoing far and wide.