Shanghais, Bucks-counties, Domini

ques,

Malays (that did n't lay for weeks,)
Polanders, Bantams, Dorkings,
(Waiving the cost, no trifling ill,
Since each brought in his little bill,)
By day or night were never still,
But every thought of rest would kill
With cacklings and with quorkings;
Henry the Eighth of wives got free
By a way he had of axing;
But poor Knott's Tudor henery
Was not so fortunate, and he

Still found his trouble waxing;
As for the dogs, the rows they made,
And how they howled, snarled, barked
and bayed,

Beyond all human knowledge is ;
All night, as wide awake as gnats,
The terriers rumpused after rats,
Or, just for practice, taught their brats
To worry cast-off shoes and hats,
The bull-dogs settled private spats,
All chased imaginary cats,

Or raved behind the fence's slats
At real ones, or, from their mats,
With friends, miles off, held pleasant
chats,

Or, like some folks in white cravats,
Contemptuous of sharps and flats,

Sat up and sang dogsologies.
Meanwhile the cats set up a squall,
And, safe upon the garden-wall,

All night kept cat-a-walling, As if the feline race were all, In one wild cataleptic sprawl, Into love's tortures falling.

PART II.

SHOWING WHAT IS MEANT BY A FLOW OF SPIRITS.

At first the ghosts were somewhat shy,
Coming when none but Knott was nigh,
And people said 't was all their eye,
(Or rather his) a flam, the sly

Digestion's machination;
Some recommended a wet sheet,
Some a nice broth of pounded peat,
Some a cold flat-iron to the feet,
Some a decoction of lamb's-bleat,

Some a southwesterly gran. I wheat;
Meat was by some pronounced unmeet,
Others thought fish most indiscreet,
And that 't was worse than all to eat
Of vegetables, sour or sweet,
(Except, perhaps, the skin of beet,)
In such a concatenation:
One quack his button gently plucks
And murmurs "biliary ducks!

Says Knott, "I never ate one ";
But all, though brimming full of wrath,
Homœo, Allo, Hydropath,
Concurred in this that t'other's path
To death's door was the straight one.
Still, spite of medical advice,
The ghosts came thicker, and a spice
Of mischief grew apparent;
Nor did they only come at night,
But seemed to fancy broad daylight,
Till Knott, in horror and affright,

His unoffending hair rent; Whene'er with handkerchief on lap, He made his elbow-chair a trap, To catch an after-dinner nap, The spirits, always on the tap, Would make a sudden rap, rap, rap, The half-spun cord of sleep to snap, (And what is life without its nap But threadbareness and mere mishap?) As 't were with a percussion cap

The trouble's climax capping:
It seemed a party dried and grim
Of mummies had come to visit him,
Each getting off from every limb
Its multitudinous wrapping:
Scratchings sometimes the walls ran
round,

The merest penny-weights of sound;
Sometimes 't was only by the pound
They carried on their dealing,

A thumping 'neath the parlor floor,
Thump-bump-thump-bumping o'er and

o'er,

As if the vegetables in store (Quiet and orderly before)

Were all together pealing; You would have thought the thing was

done

By the spirit of some son of a gun,

And that a forty-two-pounder, Or that the ghost which made such sounds

Could be none other than John Pounds, Of Ragged Schools the founder,

Through three gradations of affright,
The awful noises reached their height;
At first they knocked nocturnally,
Then, for some reason, changing quite,
(As mourners, after six months' flight,
Turn suddenly from dark to light,)
Began to knock diurnally,
And last, combining all their stocks,
(Scotland was ne'er so full of Knox,)
Into one Chaos (father of Nox,)
Nocte pluit - they showered knocks,
And knocked, knocked, knocked,
eternally;

Ever upon the go, like buoys,
{Wooden sea-urchins,) all Knott's joys,
They turned to troubles and a noise

That preyed on him internally.

Soon they grew wider in their scope;
Whenever Knott a door would ope,
It would ope not, or else elope
And fly back (curbless as a trope
Once started down a stanza's slope
By a bard that gave it too much rope-)
Like a clap of thunder slamming;
And, when kind Jenny brought his hat,
(She always, when he walked, did that,)
Just as upon his head it sat,
Submitting to his settling pat-
Some unseen hand would jam it flat,
Or give it such a furious bat

That eyes and nose went cramming
Up out of sight, and consequently,
As when in life it paddled free,

His beaver caused much damning; If these things seem o'er-strained to be, Read the account of Doctor Dee, 'Tis in our college library; Read Wesley's circumstantial plea, And Mrs. Crowe, more like a bee, Sucking the nightshade's honeyed fee, And Stilling's Pneumatology; Consult Scot, Glanvil, grave Wierus, and both Mathers; further see, Webster, Casaubon, James First's treatise, a right royal Q. E. D. Writ with the moon in perigee, Bodin de Demonomanie (Accent that last line gingerly) All full of learning as the sea Of fishes, and all disagree, Save in Sathanas apage! Dr, what will surely put a flea In unbelieving ears-with glee,

Out of a paper (sent to me

By some friend who forgot to P...
A... Y... I use cryptography
Lest I his vengeful pen should dree-
His P...O...S...T...A...G...E...)
Things to the same effect I cut,
About the tantrums of a ghost,
Not more than three weeks since, at
most,

Near Stratford, in Connecticut.

Knott's Upas daily spread its roots,
Sent up on all sides livelier shoots,
And bore more pestilential fruits;
The ghosts behaved like downright
brutes,

They snipped holes in his Sunday suits,
Practised all night on octave flutes,
Put peas (not peace) into his boots,
Whereof grew corns in season,
They scotched his sheets, and, what

was worse,

Stuck his silk nightcap full of burs, Till he, in language plain and terse, (But much unlike a Bible verse,)

Swore he should lose his reason.

The tables took to spinning, too,
Perpetual yarns, and arm-chairs grew

To prophets and apostles;
One footstool vowed that only he
Of law and gospel held the key,
That teachers of whate'er degree
To whom opinion bows the knee
Wern't fit to teach Truth's a. b. c.
And were (the whole lot) to a T

Mere fogies all and fossils;
A teapoy, late the property

Of Knox's Aunt Keziah,
(Whom Jenny most irreverently
Had nicknamed her aunt-tipathy)
With tips emphatic claimed to be

The prophet Jeremiah;
The tins upon the kitchen-wall,
Turned tintinnabulators all,
And things that used to come at call
For simple household services
Began to hop and whirl and prance,
Fit to put out of countenance
The Commis and Grisettes of France
Or Turkey's dancing Dervises.

Of course such doings, far and wide, With rumors filled the country-side,

And (as it is our nation's pride
To think a Truth not verified
Till with majorities allied)
Parties sprung up, affirmed, denied,
And candidates with questions plied,
Who, like the circus-riders, tried
At once both hobbies to bestride,
And each with his opponent vied
In being inexplicit.
Earnest inquirers multiplied;
Folks, whose tenth cousins lately died,
Wrote letters long, and Knott replied;
All who could either walk or ride
Gathered to wonder or deride,
And paid the house a visit ;
Horses were at his pine-trees tied,
Mourners in every corner sighed,
Widows brought children there that
cried,

Swarms of lean Seekers, eager-eyed,
(People Knott never could abide,)
Into each hole and cranny pried
With strings of questions cut and dried
From the Devout Inquirer's Guide,
For the wise spirits to decide -

As, for example, is it

True that the damned are fried or boiled?

Was the Earth's axis greased or oiled? Who cleaned the moon when it was soiled?

How baldness might be cured or foiled?

How heal diseased potatoes?

Did spirits have the sense of smell?
Where would departed spinsters dwell?
If the late Zenas Smith were well?
If Earth were solid or a shell?
Were spirits fond of Doctor Fell?
Did the bull toll Cock-Robin's knell?
What remedy would bugs expel?
If Paine's invention were a sell?
Did spirits by Webster's system spell?
Was it a sin to be a belle?

Did dancing sentence folks to hell?
If so, then where most torture fell -
On little toes or great toes?
If life's true seat were in the brain?
Did Ensign mean to marry Jane?
By whom, in fact, was Morgan slain?
Could matter ever suffer pain?
What would take out a cherry-stain?
Who picked the pocket of Seth Crane,
Of Waldo precinct, State of Maine?
Was Sir John Franklin sought in vain?

Did primitive Christians ever train? What was the family-name of Cain? Them spoons, were they by Betty ta'en?

Would earth-worm poultice cure a sprain?

Was Socrates so dreadful plain?
What teamster guided Charles's wain?
Was Uncle Ethan mad or sane,
And could his will in force remain?
If not, what counsel to retain?
Did Le Sage steal Gil Blas from Spain?
Was Junius writ by Thomas Paine?
Were ducks discomforted by rain?
How did Britannia rule the main?
Was Jonas coming back again?
Was vital truth upon the wane?
Did ghosts, to scare folks, drag a chain?
Who was our Huldah's chosen swain?
Did none have teeth pulled without
payin',

Ere ether was invented?
Whether mankind would not agree,
If the universe were tuned in C.?
What was it ailed Lucindy's knee?
Whether folks eat folks in Feejee?
Whether his name would end with T.}
If Saturn's rings were two or three,
And what bump in Phrenology

They truly represented?

These problems dark, wherein they groped,

Wherewith man's reason vainly coped,
Now that the spirit-world was oped,
In all humility they hoped

Would be resolved instanter;
Each of the miscellaneous rout
Brought his, or her, own little doubt,
And wished to pump the spirits out,
Through his, or her, own private spout,
Into his or her decanter.

One threatened, if he would not

"trade,"

His run of custom to invade,

(He could not these sharp folks persuade

That he was not, in some way, paid,)

And stamp him as a plagiary, By coming down, at one fell swoop, With THE ORIGINAL KNOCKING TROUPE,

Come recently from Hades, Who (for a quarter-dollar heard) Would ne'er rap out a hasty word Whence any blame might be incurred From the most fastidious ladies; The late lamented Jesse Soule To stir the ghosts up with a pole And be director of the whole,

Who was engaged the rather For the rare merits he 'd combine, Having been in the spirit line, Which trade he only did resign, With general applause, to shine, Awful in mail of cotton fine,

As ghost of Hamlet's father! Another a fair plan reveals Never yet hit on, which, he feels, To Knott's religious sense appeals "We'll have your house set up on wheels,

A speculation pious;

For music, we can shortly find
A barrel-organ that will grind
Psalm-tunes, - an instrument designed
For the New England tour-refined
From secular drosses, and inclined
To an unworldly turn, (combined

With no sectarian bias ;)
Then, travelling by stages slow,
Under the style of Knott & Co.,
I would accompany the show
As moral lecturer, the foe

Of Rationalism; you could throw
The rappings in, and make them go
Strict Puritan principles, you know,
(How do you make 'em? with your
toe?)

And the receipts which thence might flow,

We could divide between us;
Still more attractions to combine,
Beside these services of mine,
I will throw in a very fine
(It would do nicely for a sign)

Original Titian's Venus." Another offered handsome fees If Knott would get Demosthenes (Nay, his mere knuckles, for more ease) To rap a few short sentences; Or if, for want of proper keys,

His Greek might make confusion, Then just to get a rap from Burke, To recommend a little work

On Public Elocution.

Meanwhile, the spirits made replies
To all the reverent whats and whys,
Resolving doubts of every size,
And giving seekers grave and wise,
Who came to know their destinies,

A rap-turous reception;
When unbelievers void of grace
Came to investigate the place,
(Creatures of Sadducistic race,
With grovelling intellects and base,)
They could not find the slightest trace
To indicate deception;
Indeed, it is declared by some
That spirits (of this sort) are glum,
Almost, or wholly, deaf and dumb,
And (out of self-respect) quite mum
To sceptic natures cold and numb,
Who of this kind of Kingdom Come

Have not a just conception:

True, there were people who demurred That, though the raps no doubt were heard

Both under them and o'er them, Yet, somehow, when a search they made, They found Miss Jenny sore afraid, Or Jenny's lover, Doctor Slade, Equally awe-struck and dismayed, Or Deborah, the chamber-maid, Whose terrors not to be gainsaid, In laughs hysteric were displayed,

Was always there before them; This had its due effect with some Who straight departed, muttering, Hum!

Transparent hoax! and Gammon ! But these were few: believing souls Came, day by day, in larger shoals, As the ancients to the windy holes 'Neath Delphi's tripod brought their doles,

Or to the shrine of Ammon.

The spirits seemed exceeding tame, Call whom you fancied, and he came;

The shades august of eldest fame

You summoned with an awful ease; As grosser spirits gurgled out From chair and table with a spout, In Auerbach's cellar once, to flout The senses of the rabble rout, Where'er the gimlet twirled about Of cunning Mephistophiles So did these spirits seem in store, Behind the wainscot or the door, Ready to thrill the being's core Of every enterprising bore

With their astounding glamour; Whatever ghost one wished to hear, By strange coincidence, was near To make the past or future clear

(Sometimes in shocking grammar) By raps and taps, now there, now here

It seemed as if the spirit queer
Of some departed auctioneer
Were doomed to practise by the year

With the spirit of his hammer;
Whate'er you asked was answered, yet
One could not very deeply get
Into the obliging spirits' debt,
Because they used the alphabet
In all communications,

And new revealings (though sublime) Rapped out, one letter at a time,

With boggles, hesitations, Stoppings, beginnings o'er again, And getting matters into train, Could hardly overload the brain

With too excessive rations,
Since just to ask if two and two
Really make four? or, How dye
do?

And get the fit replies thereto
In the tramundane rat-tat-too,
Might ask a whole day's patience.

'Twas strange ('mongst other things) to find

In what odd sets the ghosts combined,
Happy forthwith to thump any
Piece of intelligence inspired,
The truth whereof had been inquired
By some one of the company;
For instance, Fielding, Mirabeau,
Orator Henley, Cicero,
Paley, John Zisca, Marivaux,
Melancthon, Robertson, Junot,
Scaliger, Chesterfield, Rousseau,

Hakluyt, Boccaccio, South, De Foe,
Diaz, Josephus, Richard Roe,
Odin, Arminius, Charles le gros,
Tiresias, the late James Crow,
Casabianca, Grose, Prideaux,
Old Grimes, Young Norval, Swift.
Brissot,

Maimonides, the Chevalier D'O,
Socrates, Fenelon, Job, Stow,
The inventor of Elixir pro,
Euripides, Spinoza, Poe,

Confucius, Hiram Smith, and Fo,
Came (as it seemed, somewhat de trop)
With a disembodied Esquimaux,
To say that it was so and so,

With Franklin's expedition;
One testified to ice and snow,
One that the mercury was low,
One that his progress was quite slow,
One that he much desired to go,
One that the cook had frozen his toe,
(Dissented from by Dandolo,
Wordsworth, Cynaegirus, Boileau,
La Hontan, and Sir Thomas Roe,)
One saw twelve white bears in a row,
One saw eleven and a crow,
With other things we could not know
(Of great statistic value, though)

By our mere mortal vision.

Sometimes the spirits made mistakes, And seemed to play at ducks and drakes With bold inquiry's heaviest stakes

In science or in mystery; They knew so little (and that wrong) Yet rapped it out so bold and strong, One would have said the entire throng

Had been Professors of History; What made it odder was, that those Who, you would naturally suppose, Could solve a question, if they chose, As easily as count their toes,

Were just the ones that blundered One day, Ulysses happening down, A reader of Sir Thomas Browne

And who (with him) had wondered What song it was the Sirens sang, Asked the shrewd Ithacan - bang! bang!

"I

With this response the chamber rang,
guess it was Old Hundred.
And Franklin, being asked to namie
The reason why the lightning came,
Replied, "Because it thundered.