Rough hearts, but true at the core,
There is the genuine silver ore,
But it needs skill of the refiner
To find pure gems in the miner.
Far from their home two children stray,
Among the mountains far away,
The eldest of these travellers bold,
Jack Smith he was but six years old.
So far poor children went abroad,
That both at last they lost their road,
But their good dog the trusty Rover,
By scent and search doth them discover.
Their friends they search for them in vain,
Dark night comes on and heavy rain;
And savage wolves around them howl,
But they fear Rover’s bark and growl.
On the third day the searchers hark
For sounds and they hear Rover’s bark,
Joyous that boys were alive,
And that though feeble they survive.
Miners they left their silver ore,
And for more precious pearls explore,
And when the children they discover,
’Tis unbounded then their pleasure.
The eldest little hero bold
Had stripped his coat to keep the cold
From little brother three years old,
A worthy deed should be extolled.
From home they were many a league,
And weak with hunger and fatigue,
Each clung upon a miner’s back,
On their way home down mountain track.
Once on a time a lady quarrelled
With the witty Douglass Jerrold,
Because that he had been so bold,
To hint that she was growing old.
She said her hair was dark ’till one day
She used an essence turned it gray,
O, yes, said he, tincture of time
Affects the hair in this our clime.
At great reunion of the South,
Of those had faced the cannon’s mouth,
Where each could show a glorious scar
He had received in the war.
And there was an artillery major,
Said he, I am free to wager
I fired the best shot in the war,
And fame of it was heard afar.
The Federals fired at us a shell,
And near our battery it fell,
It gave us momentary alarm,
But it caused us little harm.
For the fuse it ceased to burn,
And I resolved shell to return
To the same spot from whence it came,
I put in fuse was sure to flame.
From mortar’s mouth it went forth
Seeking for vengeance on the North,
And this swift messenger from South
It entered their great cannon’s mouth.
And blew the gun all into atoms,
Which left desolate many homes,
But North had justice on her side.
In truth and virtue was her pride.
And high Heaven had well decreed
That the poor slave he should be freed,
And even the South doth prosper more
With freedom than she did before.
An English ship when homeward bound,
Near to its port was shipwrecked found,
For it had struck a sunken rock,
And was slowly sinking from the shock.
In port they quick did man life boat,
Which o’er tempestuous sea did float,
They rescued all the crew, save one,
And were content with what they done.
But they had not their captain, Harry,
Who on the shore was forced to tarry,
And knew not of the disaster,
So crew had worked without a master.
But when he heard of the shipwreck,
And that a man was left on deck,
He quickly hurried the boat’s crew
For to again attempt his rescue.
But earnestly his old mother,
Reminded him of his lost brother,
Perhaps drowned in foreign sea,
She cried, son, stay and comfort me.
But wreck they reach and rescue man,
And thrill of joy o’er city ran,
When it was found ’twas Harry’s brother,
Had returned to comfort mother.
Thus providence rewards the brave
Who strive their fellow men to save,
The mother’s griefs it did assuage,
And happy now is her old age.
Gent on sidewalk held out his foot
While boy in gutter brushed his boot,
But at this time, how sad, alas,
An unruly horse did o’er him pass.
The child for friends he sad did lack,
They said he was but a shoeblack,
Kind hearted man the poor child bore,
To a soft cot in back of store.
And brought from hospital ward
A skilful nurse the lad to guard,
She often listened for his breath,
As he was passing the vale of death.
But, poor child, once he ope’d his eyes,
And he looked round in great surprise,
Feebly he asked, heaving a sigh,
Where in the world now am I.
The tender nurse bent o’er his face,
And said, dear boy, you’re in good place,
She asked his name, he said it was Tom,
And that for long he had no home.
And since his mother was stricken dead,
He had not once reposed in bed,
And while suffering child did rack,
He eagerly asked will mother come back.
The nurse she gently answered, no,
But, to your dear mother you can go,
In his last sleep he had a dream,
Shining up boots it was his theme.
He soon awoke and called out, mother,
I see you and little brother,
Christ, I know, has me forgiven,
For they are beckoning me to Heaven.
Once on a time there lived a duck,
And by its fishing it did thrive;
So one day it longed to suck
An oyster and for one did dive.
The oyster near shore lay open,
The duck, its gizzard for to fill,
Resolved that he would pop in
Between the shells his sharp bill.
And then he would have glorious treat,
But oyster closed on it its shell,
And duck it got no oyster meat,
But worse than that the duck befell.
This oyster was so very large,
It held the duck’s head under water,
And towed small oysters like a barge,
Each one clung to it like squatter.
Duck it died of too much moisture,
And it floated towards the beach,
And to its bill clung big oyster,
Sticking to it like a horse leach.
On the shore there stood a shyster,
Watching fat duck floating to him,
And the wondrous big oyster,
How fine it would be to stew them.
Alas the duck lost its dinner,
And at the same time lost its life,
But on it dined a hungry sinner,
Who did reap all the spoils of strife.
For when the duck to land did float,
It towed small oysters not a few,
For it sailed like to a boat,
With fat duck pie and oyster stew.
None can the poor duck’s fate bewail,
For it reckoned without its host,
It strove for conquest and did fail,
Fighting for spoil it battle lost.
You see the wild duck did not know,
When it
