Classic Poem

The merriment that followed was subdued--
As though the story-teller's attitude
Were dual, in a sense, appealing quite
As much to sorrow as to mere delight,
According, haply, to the listener's bent
Either of sad or merry temperament.--
'And of your two appeals I much prefer
The pathos,' said 'The Noted Traveler,'--
'For should I live to twice my present years,
I know I could not quite forget the tears
That child-eyes bleed, the little palms nailed wide,
And quivering soul and body crucified....
But, bless 'em! there are no such children here
To-night, thank God!--Come here to me, my dear!'
He said to little Alex, in a tone
So winning that the sound of it alone
Had drawn a child more lothful to his knee:--
'And, now-sir, I'll agree if you'll agree,--
You tell us all a story, and then I
Will tell one.'

'But I can't.'

'Well, can't you try?'
'Yes, Mister: he kin tell one. Alex, tell
The one, you know, 'at you made up so well,
About the Bear. He allus tells that one,'
Said Bud,--'He gits it mixed some 'bout the gun
An' ax the Little Boy had, an' apples, too.'--
Then Uncle Mart said--'There, now! that'll do!--
Let Alex tell his story his own way!'
And Alex, prompted thus, without delay
Began.