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of New York City and of places along the Hudson River. He published the extensive and valuable Burhans genealogy in 1894.

For several years he was Librarian of the New York Genealogical and Biographical Society, and served as trustee of that Society for many years more. He had been an active member of the New York Volunteer Fire Department in his early days, and for many years a trustee of the New York Veteran Firemen's Association. He joined the Holland Society October 24, 1889.

Mr. Burhans was of a very quiet and retiring disposition and of great benevolence of heart. Only those who knew him very intimately were aware of the amount of his charities, which were abundantly scattered, but in the most unostentatious manner.

He was in his usual good health till within two days of his death, April 2, 1900, which resulted from heart failure. His wife and one of his daughters were away on a visit to Bermuda, were ignorant of his illness, and returned only on the day after his demise.

JOHN AUGUSTUS ELMENDORF, vice-president of the corporation known as Edward Smith & Co., of No. 45 Broadway, New York City died April 5, 1900, at the home of his son-in-law, Dr. Walter Lester Carr, No. 68 West Fifty-first Street. He had been an invalid for several years, but was confined to the house only ten days before his death. He was seventy-two years old.

Mr. Elmendorf was a member of the old Dutch family of Elmendorfs, of Kingston, N. Y., the head of which settled in this country in the middle of the seventeenth century.

Mr. Elmendorf was born in Kingston, September II, 1828. His parents were Levi and Saletje Meler (De Puy) Elmendorf. His boyhood was spent in Waterloo, N. Y., where he attended an academy. In 1847 he came to New York, and

began his business career in a wholesale dry-goods house at No. 14 Wall Street. In 1853 he became connected with the house of Smith & Stratton, and remained with the firm through its different changes of names to Edward Smith & Co. When it was incorporated, he became its vice-president. Mr. Elmendorf was at one time a member of the 13th Regiment, holding a lieutenant's commission. In 1855 he married in New York Frances Catherine (Richards) Lathrop, niece and adopted daughter of Dwight Lathrop, of Savannah, Ga. Three children were born to them-Dwight Lathrop, the traveller and lecturer; Grace, wife of Dr. Carr; and John Barker, all of whom are living in this city. Mrs. Elmendorf died several years ago.

Mr. Elmendorf was a strong Republican, and a few years ago was chairman of the Republican committee of the district in which he lived. He never held public office. He became a member of the Holland Society March 29, 1888, was a member of the Sons of the Revolution, and a trustee of the Fourth Avenue Presbyterian Church.

THE DUTCHMAN.

BY EDWARD J. WHEELER.

His prow was pointed toward the Southern stars ;
He ploughed a furrow half-way round the world.
The winds of many zones tugged at his spars
And beat his deck before his sails were furled.
On, on, and on-three thousand leagues of sea,
Untried, unknown, he traversed to be free.

Stolid and stern, unsightly and uncouth,

No scented darling he for courtly game;
But in that slow speech there was steadfast truth,
And dauntless courage in that stubborn frame.
On Afric's farthest cape he made his home,
And thanked the good God he could cease to roam.

The Kings played chess, as Kings are wont to play,
Each move an end to some fair land's repose.
On Afric's fields, three thousand leagues away,
One tyrant's flag came down, another rose.
The Dutchman saw with gratitude profound.
He hailed a savior
a worse tyrant found.

Vain his long search o'er many sounding seas.
Still on the heights doth Freedom love to dwell,
To shake her tresses in the mountain breeze,
And hear the tales the upland forests tell.

Far to the North, where snowy summits rise,
The Boer, outmastered, turned his longing eyes.

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Before him lay long miles of arid plain;
Around him valleys full of plenty smiled.
He yoked his oxen to the lumbering wain,
The jambok spoke in menace shrill and wild.
Each mighty beast, submissive, bent his neck,
And the Boer started on his long, long trek.

Came days of aching toil. Night after night
He faced Death, eye to eye, and stared him down.
With naked fist he met the lion in fight,

And sent him scurrying to his jungles brown.

The savage blacks who came to spoil and slay
Reeled back before the laager's stern array.

Oh, Freedom, dear, if ever man there was,

In all the ages, earned thy favoring smile,
This patient man has earned it. In his cause
Pleads all the world to-day. Yea, even that Isle
That hisses hate of him, thrills, too, with strong,
Deep notes of protest against England's wrong.

Gold! Gold ! Gold ! Gold! The cry filled all the air,
And wrought like magic on the hearts of men.

The restless souls in every land who dare

Shake dice with Fate, felt the blood leap again.

They came in squads in troops-in rushing stream,
Their motto ever this: "Follow the gleam!"

But most were men of that proud race who hold
The Triple Isle as trident of the sea.

What! was this Boer to rule a realm of gold?
His slow hand time the march of Destiny?

So came the clash, and on Majuba Hill

That slow hand proved its swift, unerring skill.

The old Colossus spanned the Rhodian Bay;

A continent, the new one would bestride,

From Cape to Cairo drive his iron way,

And a new empire for his Queen provide.

An earthquake laid the old Colossus low,

The new one laughs amid the earthquake's throe.

The lust for gold and lust for empire found
That the bold Dutchman dared their way to block.

They joined their force to sweep him from the ground: "Move," said the Sea; "I will not," said the Rock.

For twenty years the Sea has shouted, "Go!"
For twenty years the Rock has answered, "No!"

Now breaks the tempest; now the lightnings leap!
And Boer and Briton join in final strife,
And we, afar, bewildered sit, and keep

Hushing the thoughts that cut us like a knife.
Are we not Britons, too, in speech and blood?
Can we curse them and bless the alien brood?

Britons, but not such Britons we; for lo!

These men who goad the patient Boer to-day Are heirs of those who struck th' insensate blow At Lexington and Concord.

Tories they,

Whose hands have smitten Freedom's form, alas!
In all her strifes with privilege and class.

Not these our kindred! No, we spurn the claim.
But rather those whose voices have been bold,
For love of England, to avert this shame
And break the spell hypnotic cast by gold.

Oh! for one hour of Gladstone's voice to plead
The cause of God against the claims of Greed !

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