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Nothing of very decided mark has been contributed to dramatic literature by American writers, though this branch of letters has been cultivated with some success. John Howard Payne wrote several successful plays; George H. Boker is the author of many dramatic works which establish his claim to an honorable rank among the dramatic writers of the age.
Hans could play poker, and the game being made small enough to suit him, he came in and won about two dollars, which made him swell up like a toad, and declared: "Uf you poys know some games vot I can play petter as dot boker, shust you name him, und I vill do you at dot. Oh, I vose a dandy on trucks, ain'd it?
It seems a pity that the author should have tried such a wide survey of human nature. Her talent does not carry her into melodrama, to say nothing of tragedy, but there are many evidences in her book of very fair powers in the way of light comedy. Studies in German Literature. By Bayard Taylor. With an Introduction by George H. Boker. By Bayard Taylor. New York: G. P. Putnam's Sons.
The lyric and narrative verse of the Civil War itself was great in quantity, and not more inferior in quality than the war verse of other nations has often proved to be when read after the immediate occasion for it has passed. Single lyrics by Timrod and Paul Hayne, Boker, H. H. Brownell, Read, Stedman, and other men are still full of fire. Yet Mrs.
John Pierpont, W. G. Simms, Robert Sands, Drake, Hillhouse, Theodore Fay, Margaret Fuller, Epes Sargent, Boker, Paul Hayne, Lanier, and others, I fitly in essaying such a theme as this, and reverence for their memories, may at least give a heart-benison on the list of their names.
Dyer was kindly, and not more of a gossip than her neighbors; and there were no children, only one grandchild, the inoffensive Nicky. The ways of the house were somewhat uncouth, but everything was clean and in a certain sense homelike. To Miss Newell's homesick sensitiveness it seemed better than being stared at across the boarding-house table by Boker and Pratt, and pitied by the engineer.
What to him are all our wars, What but death bemocking folly?" George H. Boker. There is no time when man so realizes his helplessness as in the presence of great affliction. So now Peggy and Sally, wishing to give comfort but at a loss how to do so, withdrew a short distance from the stricken ones, then they too sat down.
He could not, like Henry Boker in his time, walk right through the whole flock with his hands in his pockets directly after a battle, and look as if they did not exist. He had to keep stealing glances at them while he strolled down to the beach, and tried with all his might to control his breathing; for next to crying, to be out of breath was the greatest disgrace that could happen to you.
Old turtles, with large eyes, poked their heads up out of the sea as I sang "Johnny Boker," and "We'll Pay Darby Doyl for his Boots," and the like. But the porpoises were, on the whole, vastly more appreciative than the turtles; they jumped a deal higher. One day when I was humming a favorite chant, I think it was "Babylon's a-Fallin'," a porpoise jumped higher than the bowsprit.
"Oh, nothing in particular, to see the senoritas." "Oh, thank you, Boker, I've seen the senoritas." He walked quickly past the men, and the shorter one, who had not spoken, called after him rather huskily, "W-what do you think of the little school-ma'am?" Arnold turned back and confronted the speaker in silence. "I say! Is she thin 'nough to suit you?" the heavy-playful one persisted.
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