Upon the walls wuz pictures of hosses 'nd of

Not much on dress, perhaps, but strong on records 'nd on curls!

The which had been identified with Casey in the

The hosses 'nd the girls, I mean, — and both wuz mighty fast!

But all these fine attractions wuz of precious little

note

By the side of what wuz offered at Casey's tabble dote.

There wuz half-a-dozen tables altogether in the

place,

And the tax you had to pay upon your vittles wuz a

case;

The boardin'-houses in the camp protested 't wuz a

shame

To patronize a robber, which this Casey wuz the same!

They said a

meal;

case was robbery to tax for ary

But Casey tended strictly to his biz, 'nd let 'em

squeal;

And presently the boardin'-houses all began to bust, While Casey kept on sawin' wood 'nd layin' in the dust;

And oncet a trav'lin' editor from Denver City wrote A piece back to his paper, puffin' Casey's tabble dote.

A tabble dote is different from orderin' aller cart: In one case you git all there is, in t'other, only part! And Casey's tabble dote began in French,

begin,

as all

And Casey's ended with the same, which is to say,

with "vin;"

But in between wuz every kind of reptile, bird, 'nd

beast,

The same like you can git in high-toned restauraws down east ;

'Nd windin' up wuz cake or pie, with coffee demy

tass,

Or, sometimes, floatin' Ireland in a soothin' kind of

sass

That left a sort of pleasant ticklin' in a feller's

throat,

'Nd made him hanker after more of Casey's tabble

dote.

The very recollection of them puddin's 'nd them

pies

Brings a yearnin' to my buzzum 'nd the water to

my eyes;

'Nd seems like cookin' nowadays aint what it used to be

In camp on Red Hoss Mountain in that year of

'63;

But, maybe, it is better, 'nd, maybe, I'm to blame

I'd like to be a-livin' in the mountains jest the

same

I'd like to live that life again when skies wuz fair

'nd blue,

When things wuz run wide open 'nd men wuz brave

'nd true;

When brawny arms the flinty ribs of Red Hoss Mountain smote

For wherewithal to pay the price of Casey's tabble dote.

And you, O cherished brother, a-sleepin' way out

west,

With Red Hoss Mountain huggin' you close to its

Oh, do

you dream in your last sleep of how we use to do,

Of how we worked our little claims together, me 'nd

you?

Why, when I saw you last a smile wuz restin' on your face,

Like you wuz glad to sleep forever in that lonely

place;

And so you wuz, 'nd I'd be, too, if I wuz sleepin'

So.

But, bein' how a brother's love aint for the world

to know,

Whenever I've this heartache 'nd this chokin' in

my throat,

I lay it all to thinkin' of Casey's tabble dote.

LITTLE BOY BLUE.

“HE little toy dog is covered with dust,

THE

But sturdy and stanch he stands;

And the little toy soldier is red with rust,

And his musket moulds in his hands. Time was when the little toy dog was new And the soldier was passing fair,

And that was the time when our Little Boy Blue Kissed them and put them there.

"Now, don't you go till I come," he said, "And don't you make any noise ! "

So toddling off to his trundle-bed

He dreamt of the pretty toys.
And as he was dreaming, an angel song
Awakened our Little Boy Blue,

Oh, the years are many, the years are long,
But the little toy friends are true.