Tuk the papers, the old man did,
    A-watchin’ fer Jim—­
  Fully believin’ he’d make his mark
    Some way—­jes’ wrapped up in him!—­
  And many a time the word ’u’d come
  ’At stirred him up like the tap of a drum—­
  At Petersburg, fer instunce, where
  Jim rid right into their cannons there,
  And tuk ’em, and p’inted ’em t’other way,
  And socked it home to the boys in gray,
  As they scooted fer timber, and on and on—­
  Jim a lieutenant and one arm gone,
  And the old man’s words in his mind all day,—­
    “Well, good-by, Jim: 
      Take keer of yourse’f!”

  Think of a private now, perhaps,
    We’ll say like Jim,
  ’At’s clumb clean up to the shoulder-straps
    And the old man jes’ wrapped up in him! 
  Think of him—­with the war plum, through. 
  And the glorious old Red-White-and-Blue
  A-laughin’ the news down over Jim,
  And the old man bendin’ over him—­
  The surgeon turin’ away with tears
  ’At hadn’t leaked for years and years,
  As the hand of the dyin’ boy clung to
  His father’s, the old voice in his ears,—­
    “Well, good-by, Jim: 
      Take keer of yourse’f!”

[Illustration]

The Spray of Kentucky Pine

O!  James Whitcomb Riley!  This Man From Down On The Farm—­one-while your constant Companion, in work most Congenial, all-while your Faithful Friend—­rejoices. and is exceeding Glad, That All Is Well With You!  For no one knew, better than you, the Wisdom, the Beauty, of Death!  No one the more fully realized the Folly, the Futility, of human Grief!  You firmly believed, that he, who follows The Christ; that he, who, in all Humility, bears the Cross; that he, who, in all Gratitude, wears upon his unworthy brow, the imprint of the Kiss Divine!—­the Kiss of Forgiveness Complete—­you firmly believed, that he ought to be brave enough, strong enough, to meet the Call, whensoever, wheresoever, it may chance to come.  You firmly believed that the Call always comes at the Right Moment:  that Incompletion Here, finds its Completement There:  that every human Life holds—­like the Palace of Aladdin—­its unfinished Window:  that the finite mind, hampered by its mortality, is a clog to any Completion, to any Earthly Perfection.  Therefore, feeling, believing, as you did Here, now knowing, as you must know There, this Man rejoices, and is exceeding Glad, That All Is Well With You!

O!  James Whitcomb Riley Your Nature-on the surface—­was Simple, Honest, Open, Direct.  It was all of that but—­it was More!  It was deeper than Tears!  It was wider than Laughter!  It was more profound, more subtle, than either your spoken Word. or, your written, your printed Thought.  You were infinitely better than the Very Best that you ever did!  High Praise, but True!  Your nature was strangely Complex: 

    There was the Man! 
      There was the Poet! 
        There was the Mystic!