Pepper & Salt Part 10

[Ill.u.s.tration: FANCY AND FACT. This is an ill.u.s.trated poem with the shepherd and shepherdess sitting in the gra.s.s above the poem, and the two of them sick with their heads wrapped on either side of the poem.]

FANCY AND FACT

O! a shepherd and a shepherdess, They dwelt in Arcadee, And they were dressed in Watteau dress, Most charming for to see.

They sat upon the dewy gra.s.s, With buds and blossoms set.

And the shepherd played unto the la.s.s, Upon a flageolet.

It seemed to me as though it was A very pleasant thing; Particularly so because The time of year was Spring.

But, O! the ground was damp, and so, At least, I have been told, The shepherd caught the lumbago, The shepherdess, a cold.

My darling Child! the fact is That the Poets often sing Of those joys which in the practice Are another sort of thing.

H. P.

[Ill.u.s.tration: YE TWO WISHES. This is a full page ill.u.s.trated poem with the angel and f.a.ggot-maker sitting together, the f.a.ggot-maker going into the bottle, and the f.a.ggot-maker coming out again.]

YE TWO WISHES

An Angel went a walking out one day, as I've heard said, And, coming to a f.a.ggot-maker, begged a crust of bread The f.a.ggot-maker gave a crust and something rather queer To wash it down withall, from out a bottle that stood near.

The Angel finished eating; but before he left, said he, "Thou shalt have two wishes granted, for that thou hast given me.

One wish for that good drinkable, another for the bread."

The he left the f.a.ggot-maker all amazed at what he'd said.

"I wonder," says the f.a.ggot-maker, after he had gone, "I wonder if there's any truth in that same little song!"

So, turning this thing over in his mind, he cast around, 'Till he saw the empty bottle where it lay upon the ground.

"I wish," said he, just as a test, "if what he said is so, Into that empty bottle, now, that I may straightway go"

No sooner said that done; for,--_Whisk!_ into the flask he fell, Where he found himself as tightly packed as chicken in the sh.e.l.l.

In vain he kicked and twisted, and in vain he howled with pain; For, in spite of all his efforts, he could not get out again.

So, seeing how the matter stood, he had to wish once more.

When, out he slipped, as easily as he'd gone in before.

If we had two wishes, granted by an Angel thus, We would not throw away the good so kindly given us.

For first we'd ask for wisdom, which, when we had in store, I'm very doubtful if we'd care to ask for anymore.

Howard Pyle

[Ill.u.s.tration: A VERSE WITH A MORAL BUT NO NAME. This ill.u.s.trated poem depicts the wise man asking all sorts of people.]

A VERSE WITH A MORAL BUT NO NAME

A wise man once, of Haarlem town, Went wandering up, and wandering down, And ever the question asked:

"If all the world was paper, And if all the sea was ink, And if the trees were bread and cheese, What would we do for drink?"

Then all the folk, both great and small, Began to beat their brains, But they could not answer him at all, In spite of all their pains.

But still he wandered here and there, This man of great renown, And still he questioned everywhere, The folk of Haarlem town:

"If all the world was paper, And if all the sea was ink, And if the trees were bread and cheese, What would we do for drink?"

Full thin he grew, as, day by day, He toiled with mental strain, Until the wind blew him away, And he ne'er was seen again.

And now methinks I hear you say, "Was ere a man so foolish, pray, Since first the world began?"

Oh, hus.h.!.+ I'll tell you secretly Down East there dwells a man, and he Is asking questions constantly, That none can answer, that I see, Yet he's a wise-wise man!

H. Pyle

[Ill.u.s.tration]

HANS HECKLEMANN'S LUCK

Hans Hecklemann had no luck at all. Now and then we hear folks say that they have no luck, but they only mean that their luck is bad and that they are ashamed of it. Everybody but Hans Hecklemann had luck of some kind, either good or bad, and, what is more, everybody carries his luck about with him; some carry it in their pocket-books, some carry it in their hats, some carry it on their finger tips, and some carry it under their tongues--these are lawyers. Mine is at this moment sitting astride of my pen, though I can no more see it than though it was thin air; whether it is good or bad depends entirely as to how _you_ look upon it.

But Hans Hecklemann had no luck at all. How he lost it n.o.body knows, but it is certain that it was clean gone from him.

He was as poor as charity, and yet his luck was not bad, for, poor as he was, he always had enough for his wife and his family and himself to eat. They all of them worked from dawn to nightfall, and yet his luck was not good, for he never laid one penny on top of the other, as the saying is. He had food enough to eat, and clothes enough to wear, so his luck was not indifferent. Now, as it was neither good, bad, nor indifferent, you see that it could have been no luck at all.

Hans Hecklemann's wife was named Catherine. One evening when Hans came into the cottage with just enough money to buy them all bread and not a cracked farthing to spare, Catherine spoke to him of this matter.

"Hans," said she, "you have no luck at all."

[Ill.u.s.tration: Hans Hecklemann, Catherine.]

"No," said Hans, "I have not," which was the truth, as I have already told you.

"What are you going to do about it?" said Catherine.

"Nothing at all," said Hans.

"Doing nothing puts no cabbage into the pot," said Catherine.

"It takes none out," said Hans.

"See, Hans," said Catherine; "go to the old wise woman in the wood and talk to her about it; who knows but that she can tell you how and where you lost your luck?"

"If I should find my luck it might be bad and not good," said Hans.

"It is worth having a look at," said Catherine; "you can leave it where you find it if it does not please you."