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Show If Rippling' j Rhymes 1 By WALT MASON. j TTIE DESERT. I crossed the desert in a car that ; Mr. Pullman made; It rolled without 1 a jolt or Jar, in bright green plush 1 arrayed. And when I wished to sleep at night, and rest my drowsy head, there came a porter, most polite, who tucked me into bed. And to the dining din-ing car I went threo times a day. at least; beneath large trays the waiters bent, and brought a gorgeous feast. The train was full of dames and men who grumbled all the time; they'd never come out there again the desert was a crime It hurt their eyes to view the sand, and watch tho hills of stone; and everything their anger fanned, and thoy put up a groan. And I recalled the pioneers who blazed the path that way, and sternly whacked their mules and steers through burning sand all day. Thoy only halted in their stride across that waste accurst, to plant some fellow who had died of heartbreak or of Vilrjt T wishful thnso mlchtv mnn of old could board that gorgeous train, and there some moving discourse hold, of tragedy and pain; for that might shame the stallfcd men, and fat, enameled dames, who sighed and4 swore and sighed again, and called tho desert names. 00 |