Pittsburg dispatch. [volume] (Pittsburg [Pa.]) 1880-1923, 1891-09-06

favor 1t at the time, this cow holds me re-
sponsible to degree for the results Of the
war, and have never been able to get en-
rapport with her.
1t is the same with a little mouse colored
ass, or burro, which bought for use on the
farm and for ornamental riding over the
highly inflamed roads of North Carolina.
His name is Juanita-pronounced Wha-
neeta. Whaneeta, in the language of Pat
rick Henry, ''is dead sore on the war, and
regards me as having brought it on, whereas
I did not do so, but, on the contrary, did all
I could honorably to evade it. I wrote to
paper in 1860, being at that time at Win
nipeg, that unless the war was prevented
in some way 1 would stay where was for
long time. But Juanita gets mad about the
war and broods over it, and mourns and
mourns and mourns. Juanita is also child
less and that makes him feel the war worse,
1 think, than he otherwise would. Juanita
was owned by ne1ghbor of ours here named
Nettles. Mr. Nettles did not seem to want
to part with Juanita, but did finally, and
last week when I offered to let him have
the little pet he said: 'tNo; the wound is
healed over now. Do not tear it open
afresh by compelling me to go all throughit
again.
TAKES HIS OATS RELUCTANTLY.
When we first let the children ride on
him he did not seem to brood so much over
the war, but we noticed that the children
felt uneasy about something, and pretty
soon discovered that little souvenirs of the
late war were to be found all over him. So
I had to disinfect him and renovate him be-
fore we could use him. But he regards him
self yet as my superior, can see that.
Though poor and measly, with large bald
places on his person where he has rubbed
himself againss an upright farm while try
ing to forget the past and get rid of the re-
suits of the war, I can see that he regards
himself as unfortunate, but refined.
Juanita regards me as low, coarse
Yankee, whose oats are reluctantly taken
in exchange for his refined social influence.
He does not have much fun, and ever and
anon he bursts forth into wall that shows
how keenly he suffers He is the worst
sample of moth respectability and un-
laundried hauteur that l ever saw. He has
the pride of Lucifer and the personal habits
of Dives. He is most unfortunately made
I'D of strange contradictions and unhappy
warning elements which fill his breast with
a wild tumult l once wrote some lines to
a pet mule of mine, among which occur the
following, which have addressed to Juan
ita during the past week There is a vein
of melancholy running through the work
which some of my friends at the Authors
Club say remind them of Dante. 1t is in
blank verse, which seems to be the only
literary method for successfully treating the
mule. The words and music are as follows:
LINES THAT FIT A MULE.
Oh, lovely, gentle, unobtrusive mule,
Thou standest idly 'gainst the azure sky
And sweetly, sadly singest like hired man.
Who taught thee thus to warble
In the noontide heat and wrestle with
Thy deep, corroding grief and joyless woe7
Who taught thy simple heart
Its pent-up wildly warning waste.
OF wanton woe to carroll forth upon the
silent air?
(Second Verse.)
chide thee not, because thy
Song is fraught with grief-embittered
Monotone and joyless minor chords
OF wild, imported melody, for thou
Art restless, woe begirt, and
Compassed round about with gloom,
Thou timid, trusting, orphan mulel
Few joys, indeed, are thine
Thou thrice bestricken, madly
Mournful, melancholy mule.
And he alone who strews
Thy pathway with his cold remains,
Can give the recompense
OF fostering and injurious woe.
He who hath sought to steer
Thy timber, yielding tail
FeInist thy crupper pano
Hath given thee joy, and he alone.
'Tis true, he may have shot
Athwart the zodiac, and looking
Der the outer walls upon
The New Jerusalem, ..,
Have uttered vain regrets,
Thou reckest not, oh, orphan mule,
For it hath given thee JOY and
Bound about thy bursting heart
And held thy tottering reason
To its throne.
Sing on, oh, mule, and warbls