198 BIRDS AND POETS 



less than a minute is sound, and. peacefully asleep 

 without another whimper, utterly fagged out. A 

 square or so more and the conductor, who has had 

 an unusually hard and uninterrupted day's work, 

 gets off for his first meal and relief since morning. 

 And now the white-hatted man, holding the slum- 

 bering bahe also, acts as conductor the rest of the 

 distance, keeping his eye on the passengers inside, 

 who have by this time thinned out greatly. He 

 makes a very good conductor, too, puUing the bell 

 to stop or go on as needed, and seems to enjoy 

 the occupation. The babe meanwhile rests its fat 

 cheeks close on his neck and gray heard, one of his 

 arms vigilantly surrounding it, while the other sig- 

 nals, from time to time, with the strap; and the 

 flushed mother inside has a good half hour to breathe, 

 and cool, and recover herself. 



II 



No poem of our day dates and locates itself as 

 absolutely as "Leaves of Grass;" but suppose it 

 had been written three or four centuries ago, and 

 had located itself in mediaeval Europe, and was now 

 first brought to light, together with a history of 

 Walt Whitman's simple and disinterested life, can 

 there be any doubt about the cackling that would at 

 once break out in the whole brood of critics over 

 the golden egg that had been uncovered ? This I 

 reckon would be a favorite passage with all : — 



" You sea ! I resign myself to you also — Iguess what you mean ; 

 I behold from the beach your crooked inviting fingers; 



