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It matters very little what immediate spot may be the birthplace of such a man as Washington. No people can claim, no country can appropriate him; the boon of providence to the human race, his fame is eternity and his residence creation. Though it was the defeat of our arms and the disgrace of our policy, I almost bless the convulsion in which he had his origin. If the heavens thundered and the earth rocked, yet when the storm passed how pure was the climate that it cleared; how bright in the brow of the firmanent was the planet which it revealed to us!

In the production of Washington, it does really appear as if nature were endeavoring to improve upon herself, and that all the virtues of the ancient world were but so many studies preparatory to the patriot of the new. Individual instances no doubt there were; splendid exemplifications of some single qualification. Cæsar was merciful, Scipio was continent, Hannibal was patient; but it was reserved for Washington to blend them all in one, and like the lovely chef d'œuvre of the Grecian artist, to exhibit in one glow of associated beauty the pride of every model and the perfection of every master. As a general he marshaled the peasant into a veteran, and supplied by discipline the absence of experience; as a statesman he enlarged the policy of the cabinet into the most comprehensive system of general advantage; and such was the wisdom of his views and the philosophy of his counsels that to the soldier and the statesman he almost added the character of the sage. A conqueror, he was untainted with the crime of blood; a revolutionist, he was free from any stain of treason; for aggression commenced the contest, and his country called him to the

1 Delivered at a dinner on Dinas Island, Lake Killarney, Ireland, given in honor of Mr. O. H. Payne (afterward Senator Payne) of Ohio.

command. Liberty unsheathed his sword, necessity stained it, victory returned it.

If he had paused here, history might have doubted what station to assign him, whether at the head of her citizens or her soldiers, her heroes or her patriots. But the last glorious act crowns his career and banishes all hesitation. Who, like Washington, after having emancipated a hemisphere, resigned his crown and preferred the retirement of domestic life to the adoration of a land he might be almost said to have created? "How shall we rank thee upon glory's page,

Thou more than soldier, and just less than sage?
All thou hast been reflects less fame on thee,

Far less than all thou hast forborne to be!"

Such, sir, is the testimony of one not to be accused of partiality in his estimate of America. Happy, proud America! the lightnings of heaven yielded to your philosophy! The temptations of earth could not seduce your patriotism!

I have the honor, sir, of proposing to you as a toast,

"The immortal memory of George Washington."

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Can't any boy be good as her!

She loves me when I'm glad er mad;
She loves me when I'm good er bad;
An' what's a funniest thing, she says
She loves me when she punishes.

I don't like her to punish me;
That don't hurt, but it hurts to see
Her cryin' nen I cry; an' nen
We both cryan' be good again.

She loves me when she cuts and sews
My little cloak and Sunday clothes;
An' when my pa comes home to tea,
She loves him most as much as me.

She laughs an' tells him all I said.
An' grabs me up an' pats my head;
An' I hug her, an' I hug my pa,

An' love him purt' nigh much es ma.

1 Used by special permission of the publishers, The Bobbs-Merrill Company. From “Rhymes of Childhood," copyright, 1900.

ALMOST BEYOND ENDURANCE1

JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY

I ain't a-goin' to cry no more, no more!
I'm got ear-ache, an' ma can't make

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An' poke my knife down through the stable-floor
An' loozed it - blame it all!

But I ain't goin' to cry no more, no more!

An' Aunt Mame wrote she's a-comin', an' she can't –
Folks is come there! — An' I don't care,

She is my Aunt!

An' my eyes stings; an' I'm

Ist coughin' all the time,

An' hurts me so, an' where my side's so sore
Granpa felt where, an' he

Says "maybe it's pleurasy!"

But I ain't goin' to cry no more, no more!

An' I climbed up an' nen falled off the fence,
An' Herbert he ist laugh at me!

An' my fi'-cents

It sticked in my tin bank, an' I ist tore

Purt' nigh my thumbnail off, a-tryin' to git
It out nen smash it! — An it's in there yit!
But I ain't goin' to cry no more, no more!

Oo! I'm so wickud!

An' my breath's so hot

Ist like I run an' don't rest none

But ist run on when I ought to not;

1 Used by special permission of the publishers, the Bobbs-Merrill Company. From "His Pa's Romance," copyright, 1903.

Yes, an' my chin

An' lip's all warpy, an' my teeth's so fast,

An''s a place in my throat I can't swaller past

An' they all hurt so!

An' oh, my - oh!

I'm a-startin' a'gin

I'm a-startin ag'in, but I won't, fer shore!

I ist ain't goin' to cry no more, no more!

BREAKING THE CHARM1

PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR

Caught Susanner whistlin'; well,
It's most nigh too good to tell.
'Twould 'a' b'en too good to see
Ef it hadn't b'en fur me,
Comin' up so soft an' sly
That she didn' hear me nigh.
I was pokin' round that day,
An' ez I come down the way,
First her whistle strikes my ears,
Then her gingham dress appears;
So with soft step up I slips.
Oh, them dewy, rosy lips!
Ripe ez cherries, red an' round,
Puckered up to make the sound.
She was lookin' in the spring,
Whistlin' to beat anything, -
"Kitty Dale" er "In the sweet."
I was just so mortal beat
That I can't quite ricoleck
What the toon was, but I 'speck

1 By permission of Dodd, Mead & Co.

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