For the wheels were just as strong as the thills,
And the floor was just as strong as the sills,
And the panels just as strong as the floor,
And the whippletree neither less nor more,
And the back-crossbar as strong as the fore,
And spring and axle and hub encore.1
And yet, as a whole, it is past a doubt
In another hour it will be worn out!

First of November, 'Fifty-five!
This morning the parson takes a drive.2
Now, small boys, get out of the way!
Here comes the wonderful one-hoss shay,
Drawn by a rat-tailed, ewe-necked bay.

―

Huddup!" said the parson.-Off went they. The parson was working his Sunday's text,— Had got to fifthly, and stopped perplexed At what the Moses was coming next. All at once the horse stood still, Close by the meet'n'-house on the hill. -First a shiver, and then a thrill, Then something decidedly like a spill, And the parson was sitting upon a rock, At half-past nine by the meet'n'-house clock. — Just the hour of the Earthquake shock! -What do you think the parson found, When he got up and stared around? The poor old chaise in a heap or mound, As if it had been to the mill and ground.

1 encore, French for again; here equivalent to also.

2 takes a drive. Note the historical present. Give other examples.

You see, of course, if you're not a dunce,1
How it went to pieces all at once,-
All at once, and nothing first,

Just as bubbles do when they burst.2

End of the wonderful one-hoss shay.
Logic is logic. That's all I say.

[The following pleasant reference to this poem is made by Whittier in an essay on Holmes's poetry: "That unique compound of humor and pathos, The Last Leaf, shows that Holmes possesses power, — the power of touching the deeper chords of the heart, and of calling forth tears as well as smiles." Then, quoting the third and fourth stanzas, he asks, "Who does not feel the power of this simple picture of the old man?"]

And the names he loved to hear
Have been carved for many a year
On the tomb.2

My grandmamma has said

Poor old lady, she is dead

Long ago

That he had a Roman nose,

And his cheek was like a rose3

In the snow.

But now his nose is thin,

And it rests upon his chin
Like a staff;

the crier: that is, the town- | Note the fine effect of the alliteracrier of olden times.

tion.

2 The mossy marbles... tomb.

3 like a rose, etc. What figure?

And a crook is in his back,

And a melancholy crack
In his laugh.

I know it is a sin

For me to sit and grin
At him here;

But the old three-cornered hat,
And the breeches, and all that,
Are so queer!

And if I should live to be
The last leaf upon the tree
In the spring,

Let them smile, as I do now,
At the old forsaken bough
Where I cling.

6. "THE BOYS."

[This brilliantly sparkling poem commemorates a festal meeting of the Harvard class to which Dr. Holmes belonged (the class of 1829), long after the graduates had ceased to be "boys," in which condition, however, the poet insists on keeping them. The sly humor and drollery of the piece will be readily appreciated.]

HAS there any old fellow got mixed with the boys? If there has, take him out, without making a noise. Hang the Almanac's cheat and the Catalogue's spite!1 Old Time2 is a liar! We're twenty to-night!

1 the Catalogue's spite: that is, the telltale college catalogue which records the birth-date of the graduates.

3

2 Time. Note the personification. What suffix in "liar"?

3 twenty: that is, twenty years of age.

We're twenty! We're twenty! Who says we are more? He's tipsy, young jackanapes!1-show him the door! "Gray temples at twenty?"—Yes! white if we please: Where the snowflakes falls thickest, there's nothing can freeze!

Was it snowing I spoke of? Excuse the mistake!
Look close, you will see not a sign of a flake!
We want some new garlands for those we have shed, —
And these are white roses in place of the red.

2

We've a trick, we young fellows, you may have been told,

Of talking (in public) as if we were old:

That boy we call "Doctor," and this we call "Judge;" It's a neat little fiction, - of course it's all fudge.3

That fellow's the "Speaker," the one on the right; "Mr. Mayor," my young one, how are you to-night? That's our "Member of Congress," we say when we chaff; 4

There's the "Reverend" What's his name?-don't make me laugh.

That boy with the grave mathematical look
Made believe he had written a wonderful book,

1 jackanapes (from jack, a saucy

3 fudge (colloquialism), a made

chap, and ape), an impertinent fel-up story; nonsense. low.

2 these are white roses. plain.

4 chaff (a corruption of the verb.

Ex- to chafe, to vex), to make fun of, or

ridicule, by light idle language.