Spirit of the age. [volume] (Woodstock, Vt.) 1845-1913, 1870-12-08

of another-which we take to be by the
rapidly becoming famous f. Bret Harte,
and which illustrates one popular phase
of California literature. 1t is as follows:
CICEL ".
ALKALI STATION.
Cicely says you're poet; maybe; I amt
much on rhyme:
reckon you'd give II hundred, and beat me
every time.
Poetry that's the way some chaps put up an
idea,
But takes mine straight without sugar. and
that's what's the matter with me.
Poetry Just look round you-alkali, rock,
and sage;
Sage-brush, rock, and alkai; amt it pretty
Sun in the east at mornin, sun in the west at
night,
And the shadow of this yer station the only
thing moves in sight.
Poetry well now-Polly! Polly, run to your
nam;
Run right away, my pooty! By-by! Amt
she II lamb?
Foe ry!--that reminds me O suthing right in
that suit:
Jcs' sact that door thar will yer, for Cicely's
,ars is cute.
We noticed Polly-lhe baby A month olorc
,hc was born,
Cccy-m old womau-was moody like and
forlorn;
Out of her head and crazy, and talked of flowers
q d trees;
Family man, yourself, sir3 Well, you know
what woman be's.
Nalyous she was, and restless-said that she
"could't stay"
Stay--and the nearest woman seventeen miles
away.
But fixed ii up with the doc tor, and he said
he would be on hand,
in that bit O. land.
One night-the tenth of Octobcr-I woke with
chill and fright,
For the door it was standing open, and Cicciy
warn't in sight,
But note was pinned on the blanket, which
it said that she "couldn't stay"
But had gone to visit her eighbor-seyenteen
miles away
When and how she stampedcd, didn't wait
for to sec,
For on. in the road, next mint, started as
wild as she;
Running first this way and that way, like Il
hound that is off the scent,
For there warn't no track in the darkness to
tell me the way she went.
I've had some mighty mean moments atore
KEN to this spot
Lost on the Plains in 80, drownded almost
and shot;
But out on this alkal desert hunting a crazy
vile,
Was rally as on satisfactory as any thing il
my life.
"Cicey Ciccly! Ciccy!" called, and held
my breath,
And "Ciccly" came from the canyon-and al
was as still as death.
And "Cicely Cicely Ciccly" came from ,h'
rocks below,
And jest but whisper of "Cicely!" down from
them peaks of snow.
I amt what call roligious-but l jest LOOKED
up to the sky
And-this yer's to what I'm coming, and may
beye think lie:
But up away to the east ard, yal Ter and big AM
far,
I saw of suddent rising the sngleriSt kind Of
star.
Big and yallcr and dancing, 1t seemed to tccko
Yaer and big and dancing, such as you nevc
see:
Big and yaller and dancing-I never saw sue
star,
And thought of them chaps in the Bible, an
/ went for it then and thar.
Over the brush and powders. STUMBLED an
pushed abe I'D:
Kc.p,ns the star aiorc me, wcnt wharevcr
led.
Itmsht hev been for ar hour, when sudder
AMI pcrIt and nigh,
0 of the ycLrth aiurc me thar rz ui,a ably
cry.
Ii 'cn thdr's the same music bat her lunl
they are ,trongcr now
Than he day packed her and her mother
I'm derned if Jest know how.
But the doctor came the next mint, and tn
joke o the whole thing is
That CHS never knew what happened from tn;
very night to this
But Ciccly says you're poet, and may be yo
might, some day,
Jest sling her n rhyme bout baby that WI
born in a curious way.
And see what she says; and, old fellow, whe
you speak of the star, don't tell
AS how twas the doctors lantern-for may
'twon't sound so well.
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gsS" Scientific men have recently di