yell! I yell Cornell!

I note the Manhattan boss leaving his dry-goods store and investing in a
small Gatling-gun and a ten-cent banner;
I further note the Identity evolved out of forty-four spacious and
thoughtful States;
I note Canada as shortly to be merged in that Identity; similarly Van
Diemen's Land, Gibraltar, and Stratford-on-Avon;
Briefly, I see creation whipped!

O ye Colonels! I am with you (I too am a Colonel and on the
pension-list);
I drink to the lot of you; to Colonels Cleveland, Hitt, Vanderbilt,
Chauncey M. Depew, O'Donovan Rossa, and the late Colonel Monroe;
I drink an egg-flip, a morning-caress, an eye-opener, a maiden-bosom,
a vermuth-cocktail, three sherry-cobblers, and a gin-sling!
Good old Eagle!

_Owen Seaman._

TO JULIA IN SHOOTING TOGS AND A HERRICKOSE VEIN

When as to shoot my Julia goes,
Then, then (methinks), how bravely shows
That rare arrangement of her clothes!

So shod as when the Huntress Maid
With thumping buskin bruised the glade,
She moveth, making earth afraid.

Against the sting of random chaff
Her leathern gaiters circle half
The arduous crescent of her calf.

Unto th' occasion timely fit,
My love's attire doth show her wit,
And of her legs a little bit.

Sorely it sticketh in my throat,
She having nowhere to bestow't
To name the absent petticoat.

In lieu whereof a wanton pair
Of knickerbockers she doth wear,
Full windy and with space to spare.

Enlarged by the bellying breeze,
Lord! how they playfully do ease
The urgent knocking of her knees!

Lengthways curtailed to her taste
A tunic circumvents her waist,
And soothly it is passing chaste.

Upon her head she hath a gear
Even such as wights of ruddy cheer
Do use in stalking of the deer.

Haply her truant tresses mock
Some coronal of shapelier block,
To wit, the bounding billy-cock.

Withal she hath a loaded gun,
Whereat the pheasants, as they run,
Do make a fair diversion.

For very awe, if so she shoots,
My hair upriseth from the roots,
And lo! I tremble in my boots!

_Owen Seaman._

FAREWELL

PROVOKED BY CALVERLEY's "FOREVER"

"Farewell!" Another gloomy word
As ever into language crept.
'Tis often written, never heard,
Except

In playhouse. Ere the hero flits--
In handcuffs--from our pitying view.
"Farewell!" he murmurs, then ex