THE DAY WE DO NOT CELEBRATE

BY ROBERT J. BURDETTE

One famous day in great July
John Adams said, long years gone by,

"This day that makes a people free

Shall be the people's jubilee,

"With games, guns, sports, and shows displayed, With bells, pomp, bonfires, and parade,

"Throughout this land, from shore to shore, From this time forth, forevermore."

The years passed on, and by and by,
Men's hearts grew cold in hot July.

And Mayor Hawarden Cholmondely said
"Hof rockets Hi ham sore hafraid;

"Hand hif you send one hup hablaze, Hi'll send you hup for sixty days."

Then said the Mayor O'Shay McQuade,
"Thayre uz no nade fur no perade."

And Mayor Hans Von Schwartzenmeyer
Proclaimed, "I'll haf me no bonfier!"

Said Mayor Baptiste Raphael

"No make-a ring-a dat-a bell!"

"By gar!" cried Mayor Jean Crapaud,
"Zis July games vill has to go!"

And Mayor Knud Christofferrssonn
Said, "Djeath to hjjim who fjjres a gjjunn!"

'At last, cried Mayor Wun Lung Lee—
"Too muchee hoop-la boberee!"

And so the Yankee holiday,
Of proclamations passed away.

THE YANKEE DUDE'LL DO

BY S. E. KISER

When Cholly swung his golf-stick on the links,
Or knocked the tennis-ball across the net,
With his bangs done up in cunning little kinks-
When he wore the tallest collar he could get,
Oh, it was the fashion then

To impale him on the pen—

To regard him as a being made of putty through and through;

But his racquet's laid away,

He is roughing it to-day,

And heroically proving that the Yankee dude'll do.

When Algy, as some knight of old arrayed,
Was the leading figure at the "fawncy ball,"
We loathed him for the silly part he played,
He was set down as a monkey-that was all!
Oh, we looked upon him then

'As unfit to class with men,

As one whose heart was putty, and whose brains were made of glue;

But he 's thrown his cane away,

And he grasps a gun to-day,

While the world beholds him, knowing that the Yankee

dude'll do.

When Clarence cruised about upon his yacht,

Or drove out with his footman through the park, His mamma, it was generally thought,

Ought to have him in her keeping after dark!

Oh, we ridiculed him then,

We impaled him on the pen,

We thought he was effeminate, we dubbed him "Sissy," too;

But he nobly marched away,

He is eating pork to-day,

And heroically proving that the Yankee dude'll do.

How they hurled themselves against the angry foe,
In the jungle and the trenches on the hill!

When the word to charge was given, every dude was on the go

He was there to die, to capture, or to kill!

Oh, he struck his level when

Men were called upon again

To preserve the ancient glory of the old red, white, and blue!

He has thrown his spats away,

He is wearing spurs to-day,

And the world will please take notice that the Yankee dude'll do!

SPELLING DOWN THE MASTER

BY EDWARD EGGLESTON

"I 'low," said Mrs. Means, as she stuffed the tobacco into her cob pipe after supper on that eventful Wednesday evening: "I 'low they'll app'int the Squire to gin out the words to-night. They mos' always do, you see, kase he's the peartest ole man in this deestrick; and I 'low some of the young fellers would have to git up and dust ef they would keep up to him. And he uses sech remarkable smart words. He speaks so polite, too. But laws! don't I remember when he was poarer nor Job's turkey? Twenty year ago, when he come to these 'ere diggin's, that air Squire Hawkins was a poar Yankee school-master, that said 'pail' instid of bucket, and that called a cow a 'caow,' and that couldn't tell to save his gizzard what we meant by 'low and by right smart. But he's larnt our ways now, an' he's jest as civilized as the rest of us. You would-n know he'd ever been a Yankee. He didn't stay poar long. Not he. He jest married a right rich girl! He! he!" And the old woman grinned at Ralph, and then at Mirandy, and then at the rest, until Ralph shuddered. Nothing was so frightful to him as to be fawned on by this grinning ogre, whose few lonesome, blackish teeth seemed ready to devour him. "He didn't stay poar, you bet a hoss!" and with this the coal was deposited on the pipe, and the lips began to crack like parchment as each puff of smoke escaped. "He married rich, you see,” and