Arise, my Muse, spread out thy wings,
Prepare to soar away!

Tune up thy harp for endless joy,
And turn night into day.

Go dream of Paradise sublime
In the old Empire State!

And when you're done return to me
Your story to relate.

In time gone by—in days of yore—
There lived, in forests wild,

Two families of ancient stock,
And each one had a child.

The children of both parentage
Were born in this country;

They amassed immensely fortunes
In this America.

The Waddington's were pure Scotch blood,
And raised one daughter fair;

They gave her name of Sadie,
She'd blue eyes and golden hair.

Her cheeks were rich with crimson glow,
Her lips were thin and cute,

And many an anxious lover
She sternly did refute.

Her dainty hands and flowing hair,
And graceful curves of form

Would make one's heart quite palpitate—
She carried all by storm.

Trueman Waddington was a man
Who loved his daughter—heir,

And as he rolled in endless wealth
He watched his child's welfare.

Their nearest neighbor was St. Lawrence,
Who lived a little way

Off on the rugged mountain side,
Where children like to play.

Two children he had buried
When they were yet quite young,

And now he was a happy man
'Cause he reared an only son.

This son he named him Trueman,
Because he liked the name,

And tho't 'twould be in honor
Of his neighbor of the same.

"As an act of kindness and of love,"
Old Waddington did say,

"Because you named him after me
I pledge my Sade, today."

The two old friends called in their wives
And asked them to consent

To seal the bargain for each child
On which they were both bent.

The mothers thought it rather soon
To tie so firm a knot,

And begged them not to seal their doom
By such a foolish plot.

But Trueman Waddington was not
A man to easy quit,

And he argued long and labored strong
In a half way frenzied fit.

He said: "I know we are both rich
In lands and kine and gold,

And why not join these vast fortunes
Before they are all sold?

"You've named your only son from me;
Trueman it is, True-Man he'll be,

And now must I sit by in shame
And cannot seal my daughter's fame?"

Then spake the elder man St. Lawrence:
"Dear sir, my neighbor and my friend,

You have my heart and soul and mind,
And these vast fortunes I will bind

"Together with true chords of love.
God help our children find

A part their mothers will not take
In this, to seal their children's fate.

"Now let me, please, suggest a way
To reach this matter of today;

And we will friendly make the deal
So lawyers cannot break the seal."

Then Waddington sprang to his feet,
And warmly did his neighbors greet;

Then shook him warmly by the hand,
And said, "Come, let us seal the band."

And then with fixed and mellow eye
He gazed on high as he stood by

His rugged friend and neighbor, too,
Then St. Lawrence bade him what to do.

"My dear old friend, sit down, sit down;
'Tis easy for us now to drown

All obstacles that's in our way
To carry out our plan today."

Then he proceeded to relate
How easy men in Empire State

Could call in witness to their deed
And satisfy all fortune's creed.

"Now, look-a-here, my friend St. Lawrence,
You cannot be too quick

To tell me how we'll do all this
And make this bargain stick."

And then the sage St. Lawrence did say:
"Look here, my friend, here is our way!

I'll make my will of my estate
(And that, you know, is very great,)

"Unto your fair and lovely child,
If she refrains from being wild,

And when she weds she weds my son,
My noble, brave and kind Trueman.

"Then you, my friend, reciprocate;
You make your will of this same date,

And seal as I do mine;
Make True, my son, your legatee,

"And to him give, in simple fee,
Your lands, your goods, your kine, your cash,

All in one grand and mighty crash,
If he your daughter weds."

The witnesses were duly called;
The wills were then prepared;

The testators did sign their names,
The children they well fared.

The documents were laid away
In vaults of solid rock;

There safely for the children kept,
Their heritage of stock.

Years, years rolled on and Trueman grew
To be a handsome man.

He said: "I'm bound to be "M. D."
And do the best I can."

Sadie, on the other hand,
Grew to be a queen;

And when to college she did go
Trueman there was seen.

They played at home, when they were young,
Upon the mountain side,

And never once did they mistrust
They'd be both groom and bride.

When Trueman closed his college course
He off to Gotham went,

To become an adept in his class
While on his mission bent.

Sadie, on the other hand,
When she had closed her term,

Returned unto her mountain home,
For which she hourly yearned.

Two years had changed this happy home
To one most sadly grieved;

The mother of this lovely girl
Had sadly been deceived.

She, down upon her death bed lay,
When in came Sadie one bright day

And gazed upon the shrunken form
Which now had battled life's hard storm.

Poor Sadie, with a broken heart,
She did the best to take her part;

But long the sickness did not last,
Because her mother now soon passed

From time into eternity,
Where the human soul is ever free.

Trueman now, in city fashion,
Had let die out his old-time passion

For rocks and rills and mountain side,
Where dwelt the queen who'd be his bride.

So much for selfish, erring man;
He'll do the best where e'er he can.

Time, time rolled on, when Sadie's sire,
With renewed youth and boyhood ire,

Took to himself another wife,
And tried anew to live his life.

The new-made mistress of the home
(Who had no place she called her own)

Was mother of a daughter fair,
With dimpled cheeks and flowing hair.

The madame's name was Maria;
Her daughter's was Sarah.

She soon was boss of all the house,
And Sadie driven like a mouse

Into the cold and cheerless world.
Sadie, with a broken heart,

Prayed her father take her part;
But he, with proud and dire disdain,
Forever did refrain.

Then Sadie, on her mother's grave,
Prayed loud and long for God to save

Her soul from earthly wreck.
Then, with a palpitating heart,

With one fond look she did depart
To battle hard with broken heart;

While daughter and a second wife
Should all but ruin her young life.

But father did as fathers do,
When their list of wives have numbered two;

He lent his daughter a deaf ear,
For his second wife he then did fear.

His life was short; he soon became
A victim to a raging pain,

Which soon relieved him from this life
And bore him off from life's hard strife.

They laid him low beside his wife,
The pride and joy of Sadie's life;

But Sadie knew not of the fate
Her father had so sadly met.

The new-made widow, without tear,
Prepared to move, within a year,

To far and distant foreign land,
Where neither had a single friend.

The goods were sold, the stock and kine;
The lands were leased for a long time;

The two, with pockets filled with gold,
Sailed for Paris with joys untold.

Young Sarah, who was quite a belle,
When in old Paris she did swell

Her wardrobe with both silk and lace,
And numerous paints to ply her face.

She was the very counterpart—
Although 'tis strange to say—

Of pretty Sadie Waddington
In all her dainty ways.

She spread herself around, about,
In all society's halls,

And never failed, when chance availed,
To attend the stylish balls.

She was a favorite with them all,
In fact, the Queenly Belle,

And many a suitor's prayer she heard
While on bended knee he fell.

One evening while on promenade
Within society's halls,

She met a handsome, tall young man
She'd seen at some of the balls.

When introduced, both their eyes met,
She blushing timidly;

He heard the name, "Miss Waddington,"
Then asked most courteously:

"From what part of America's soil
Do you and your friends hail?

Or have you lived in Paris long?
On what liner did you sail"?

She said: "I'm Sadie Waddington,
From the city that bears my name;

It borders on the old St. Lawrence,
A river of world-wide fame."

Then spake the handsome gentleman:
"I, too, am from that place;

And if you are Sadie Waddington,
I ought to know your face."

Her cheeks grew flushed and flushed again,
As on her he searchingly gazed;

She looked up in his solemn face
And saw he was greatly amazed.

It was Trueman St. Lawrence she saw,
As she gazed on his beautiful form;

She was more than bewitching in her ways
To capture him all by storm.

The Doctor went to his hotel
To ponder the matter o'er:

"That's not the Sadie Waddington
I've seen in days of yore."

His brain was puzzled, his face was flushed.
He was in a frenzied mood;

He could not fathom the mystery
To do the best he could.

If that's the girl in days of youth
I played with on the mountain side,

Before I leave this old city
I'll make her my darling bride.

So saying, he sank upon his couch,
And slept in dreams so rich and gay

That loud his servant called and called,
Because 'twas late—far in the day.

That day he had a trip to make
Unto a neighboring town,

And visited a hospital
Kept by a Doctor Brown.

In passing from one of the wards,
While in the open door,

He chanced to turn, and looking back
Saw, kneeling on the floor,

With outstretched arms and pleading eyes,
The girl for years he had not seen;

She'd grown into full womanhood,
She was a perfect fairy Queen.

"What! what!" he cried, "am I deceived?
If I'm my father's son

That girl I see back yonder
Is Sadie Waddington!"

He hastened back to where she knelt,
And bade her to arise,

And clasped her to his manly breast,
While tears rose in his eyes.

Then 'tween her sobs and moans and groans
She slowly did relate

How she was driven from her home
Back in the Empire State.

She told of awful suffering,
Of wandering far and near;

Of the death of father and mother,
To her all that was dear.

She told him how she had returned
Unto her mountain dome,

And as she was told that all had been sold,
She was left without a home.

The Doctor stood transfixed with awe;
Listened to her relate

The story of the sale of all,
Back in the Empire State.

The Doctor said: "My dear Sadie,
It matters not a bit to me

Whether you have lands, or goods, or gold,
I have vast fortunes yet untold.

"What's mine is yours; 'tis always so,
My father told me long ago,

Before I left the Empire State
And came over here to study late.

"I offer you my heart and hand,
And pledge to seal it with the band

Of holy wedlock, faithfully.
Now set your heart forever free

"From labor and the toils of life,—
Come, say you'll be my darling wife!

I feel a pang about my heart
That pierces like a flashing dart."

"Oh, True. St. Lawrence! Oh, can it be
That you do really care for me?

I, who have lived by a false name
To hide a step-mother's wicked shame?

"For five long years my name has been
(As you directly would have seen),

Not Sadie W., as you have known,
But the Sadie changed to plain Salome.

"The Waddington I changed, also,
For the common name of Van Harlow;

Then among strangers I did seek
For work to do, although 'twas meek.

"I came across the ocean wide,
As servant to a new-made bride;

She was taken sick and died out here
Before she'd been a bride a year.

"Since then I've cared for poor and sick,
And cannot leave them now, so quick.

I patients have who must have care
Before I leave for better fare.

"Now True, my dear, I'll be your own;
I'll make you an ever happy home;

I feel Pa's oft' spoke words are true,
Trueman's your name, True Man are you."

He pressed her closely to his breast:
To dry her tears he did his best;

Then gently kissed her burning cheeks
And bade her wait but a few weeks.

The happiest man in all the land
Was True. St. Lawrence, with trembling hand,

Who then returned to his rooms rich,
A restless night to roll and pitch

Upon a bed of faultless down,
But pains of heart it could not drown.

He lay and mused throughout the night,
'Cause his future now looked bright.

Sarah Waddington and her mother
Prepared a party for another.

A gent they wished to entertain,
'Cause Sarah wished to bear his name.

"It is to be a swell affair,
So she could safely set her snare

To catch the unsuspecting True,
Because he loves and loves but you."

So spake the mother to her child,
Who seemed delighted—almost wild—

To think that she could play her part
Without remorse or pain at heart.

The time rolled on, and days were spent
In fixing up for the event;

The rich were called from every side
To see Sarah—the would-be bride.

She sent a most bewitching note
For Dr. 'Lawrence to cast the vote,

Who'd be the Belle of honor, bright,
To bear the graces of the night.

The Doctor smiled, as he sat down
To answer it, without a frown;

And faithfully he did outline,
In characters most cute and fine:

"My choice is one, and only one;
And now I've written and 'tis done!

As sure as I'm my father's son,
'Tis one—fair Sadie Waddington!

"And now, before it is too late,
There's one request I have to make:

That I be granted then, or sooner,
To be escort to the maid of honor."

"Your request is at once granted,
And hope we'll become enchanted;

And with your presence'll be elated,
Because, it seems, we are related".

Fair Sarah, then, did make it known
(Real quietly about her home)

That she and 'Lawrence, raised side by side,
Would soon become both groom and bride.

Silks and diamonds bought with gold,
Gotten from the kine she'd sold

'Way back in the Empire State,
Where poor Sadie met her fate.

Just one week before the eve'
When he Sarah would deceive,

Trueman went to see his love,
Who was pretty as a dove.

"Sadie," said he, "sweet is revenge!
Let us now your labor change.

The ones who drove you to your fate,
Away back in the Empire State,

"Are here in Paris this long time,
And live in luxury sublime.

The gold they got from off your kine,
It goes for suppers and for wine.

"In holy wedlock let us wed,
I'll lead you to a bridal bed;

And then in luxury and state
We'll 'tend the ball ere 'tis too late".

I'll humble them in dust and shame!
Ah, Sadie, you were not to blame!

We'll make them wish they'd never sold
Your goods and kine for glittering gold!

"Come, darling, now we'll off today,
The bridal knot to firmly tie.

Then I your graceful swanlike neck
With pearls and rubys will bedeck.

"I'll trim your lovely graceful form
With richest satin to be worn:

I'll place upon your tapered hand
A solitaire, set in gold band.

"Your dainty feet encased in kid
Of dainty styles, they're only made

For those who're called the name of Queens,
And bought by those who have vast means.

"Then to the ball we'll proudly go,
(And who we'll meet I do not know,)

I'll there present to every one
My bride, true Sadie Waddington.

"The shock, so sudden, will be great;
They'll quail beneath their hearts own hate

Of being there exposed to all;
Oh, won't it be an awful fall?

"Come, Sadie dear, revenge is sweet!
Now is our chance to get your mete

Which they have held from you so long,
And did you such a cruel wrong."

Then Sadie spoke: "Trueman, my dear,
There's naught I know for me to fear.

Revenge is sweet, although 'tis queer,
Revenge I get in Paris here."

They carried out their little plot,
And never skipped a single jot.

The eve was fine, the folk were gay,
And not a thing stood in their way.

It was quite late when they arrived
At the mansion of the would-be bride.

As soon as Doctor stepped in sight,
Escorting Sadie—his delight—

Sarah saw the graceful form
And, with one scream, she left the room,

And fell fainting to the floor.
They gently laid her on the couch

Before the open door.
Her mother came in haste to see

What all the trouble there could be,
And did not see the Doctor's bride

Until she was close by her side.
And when she saw it was too late,

She gasped: "Oh, Sarah's met her fate,"
Then fell into a deathly state.

The mother swooned and swooned away
The entire night and most the day;

And then the Doctor came to say,
"Her life is run, she cannot stay!"

Sadie, with trained and skillful hand,
Nursed Sarah back to conscious-land;

Did faithfully the watchword keep
While often o'er them she did weep.

And, just before the mother died,
She Sadie called to her bedside

And begged her to full pardon give
For cruel wrong she did receive.

Sadie, always so good and true,
Said she always thought she knew

That the grand day would surely come
When that great wrong would be undone.

She granted full, complete pardon
For all the wrongs the dame had done,

And then she spoke kind words of cheer
Into the madam's dying ear.

With firm-set eyes and drooping chin
The madame grasped and tried to cling

Unto the hand she once did scorn,
And drove from home at break of morn.

She then was wrapt in eternal death,
And from her soul came not a breath.

In casket pure as driven snow
Unto the churchyard she did go,

And there was laid beneath the clay
To await Jehovah's Judgment Day.

All lands and goods and gold and kine
She left behind for endless time!

Poor Sarah! doomed to awful fate,
Her mind was left in ruined state;

In raving madness and in strife
She tried to take our Sadie's life.

The best physicians in the land
Were summoned forth on every hand

To try and bring her from the strife
Back to the land of happy life.

Off to an asylum she must go,
'Cause 'twas not safe to leave her so;

And with good care she might regain
And be relieved from mental pain.

Salome, our faithful lass and bride,
Resolved to stay by Sarah's side

And help her regain her lost mind,
And comfort for her she would find.

Nine weeks were spent in mad-house fare,
Salome bestowing tender care

Upon the one who once did face
Salome in all her dire disgrace.

When Doctor St. Lawrence saw his wife
Was bent on battling for the life

Of one who was once her mad foe,
He said: "All right, it shall be so."

Salome, she clung unto her charge,
As if she were her dearest friend;

She incurred expenses somewhat large
To treat her patient to the end.

The Doctor soon began to learn
His bride and wife would never spurn

The one who once her home did take,
And drove her off for mere pride's sake.

He asked Salome what she would do
In case that Sarah did pull through,

And once again her mind regain
Before they crossed the raging main.

Salome did quickly make reply,
While glistening tears stood in her eye:

"I'll take her to old Empire State,
Right to the door where I met fate!

"I'll make her happy, if I can,
And now I'll form my little plan:

We must, dear True, just do our best,
And fix her up in a cosy nest.

"We will give her a little home
On the beautiful mountain side;

We will find her a handsome lover
Who'll be proud to call her his bride.

"We will give them all attention
That the best of friends could do;

We will return good for evil,
'Cause my mother taught me so.

"Let us show that true religion
Is the life we ought to live,

And the ways that Christ rejoiced in
Are the ways to which we cleave.

"Oh, my husband, dearest Trueman,
I believe in Sarah reigns

The true principle of goodness—
Let us fan that spark to flames.

"Can I now secure her safely,
Teach her shun her evil ways

And discard that haughty spirit
That she learned in younger days,

"I will be the happiest mortal
Ever lived on mother earth,

And will reach that heavenly portal
Only reached by second birth."

After coaxing, begging, teasing,
Sarah consented for to go

Back across the ocean, raging,
Where her childhood seeds did sow.

When they reached the harbor safely,
Bag and baggage on the truck,

They cast lots to see what steamer
They would choose for their good luck.

Doctor got the choice of vessels,
And he quickly did decide

That the City of St. Paris
Should take their protege and his bride.

Safely in the vessel's cabin,
Housed in cosy stateroom there,

All were ready for the voyage,
And did look for cheerful fare.

Out upon the briny billows,
Just three days and nights, 'twas said,

When the night was dark and dreary,
Trueman rose from sleepless bed.

There was something weighed upon him,
Something whispered to beware;

He dressed and went upon the deck
To breathe the crisp sea air.

He paced and paced the vessel's deck
With long and manly stride;

He went from starboard o'er to port
And back to starboard side.

He'd been upon the deck some time,
And peered into the gloom

As if them something overawed
And threatened them with doom.

At last, to port, he spied a fleck,
A dancing on the waves,

And there he plainly saw a deck
Bedecked with pirate knaves.

The vessel, with a dark-hued hull,
Bore straightway on its course,

When, "Hard to port! To port! to port!"
Rang out a voice real coarse.

The strange boat glided swiftly on,
Like a ghost on phantom wings,

While the crisp sea breeze went dancing past
And through her rigging sings.

The strange boat slipped along, across
The briny billows white,

And their steamer ploughed and labored hard
Along its renewed flight.

It was a close and dangerous call,
Because the night was dark;

Had they collided there, on the ocean bare,
They'd went down with their bark.

The voyage, then, to Gotham
Was stormy and quite rough,

And all agreed, when landed,
That they had quite enough.

They then all took the railroad train
North, through the Empire State,

And soon were on the mountain side
Where Sadie met her fate.

The first place Sadie wished to see
Was graves of father and mother,

And tripping lightly from the yard,
She passed out with another.

That bitter morn, with memories fresh,
When from her home she'd fled,

She was scorned by one now too glad
To lead her on ahead.

When she approached her mother's grave
The tears rolled thick and fast,

And by her side poor Sarah stood,
With memories of the past

A fitting through her guilty mind:
And then she spoke at last:

"Oh, Sadie, Sadie, what a blot
Upon my mother's past;

It stings within my guilty heart,
And would to God I now could part

With half the pain I feel—
The balm of Christ could scarcely heal."

She stooped, and silently did press
Her fresh and rosy lips

Upon the little mound of grass
"Beneath—dear mother sleeps."

Then Sarah, with most tender words,
Pressed Sadie to her breast

And with a fervent, heartfelt plea,
Prayed both them to be blest.

When they returned unto their home,
Their friendship sealed with silent love,

They could not bear to be alone;
They felt a power from up above.

Old friends and neighbors, with delight,
Called on the Doctor and his bride,

And there convened, on the first night,
A host of friends who're on their side.

There's one among them old and gray,
Who'd lived right there for all his life;

'Tis the elder man and sage, St. Lawrence,
And he smiles upon the Doctor's wife.

Heir to the Waddington estate,
Sadie reigns the queen of all;

Her friendship for Sarah was great,
And sister her did often call.

The Doctor chose to spend his life
Upon the handsome mountain side

With Sadie, his true loving wife,
And Father St. Lawrence until he died.

Time rolled around and months flew by;
Sadie and Sarah, hand in hand,

Sealed by the firmest friendship tie,
Two of the truest in the land.

There chanced to stroll from distant clime
A bright young man of Sadie's kin;

Came to visit in Summer time,
And Sarah was introduced to him.

Sadie tried her best to make a match,
And championed well her cause;

Sarah viewed it as a catch
That one very seldom draws.

Though 'twas but a short acquaintance,
Still the wedding time was fixed;

The intended groom had patience,
'Cause he felt he was not rich.

Sadie, sweet as dewy honey,
Wishing that her friends should wed,

Proffered home and lands and money
If the word would just be said.

"I am heir to all this fortune,
Known as Waddington's estate;

Come, now, Sarah; come, now, Hawthorne,
Join your hearts ere 'tis too late.

"I will give to you a large farm
Yonder on the mountain side;

I will give you kine and money,
If you'll be my cousin's bride."

Sarah spake, with dewy eyelids,
To the one she loved so dear:

"Sadie, I am anything but worthy
Of this princely gift, to cheer

"My poor broken, wicked heart,
After I have been so bad;

You should never take my part,
Since I took that which you had."

Yet Sadie, true to her own passion,
Promised deed in fee for all,

If Sarah would wed her own cousin,
Ere the Summer ran to Fall.

So the wedding day was fixed
When the two should be made one,

And their home, as she predicted,
Would be deeded as their own.

When at last the nuptial greeting
Was received on every hand,

The sage, St. Lawrence, came to their meeting,
The last one left of their quartet band.

The wedding knot was duly tied,
And the folk were feeling gay;

They were now made happy groom and bride,
Starting out in life's pathway.

When the ceremony was over,
And the gifts they were bestowing—

Bridal gifts as sweet as clover—
Sadie, with her rich hair flowing,

Called the old 'Squire of the city
That to witness of her signing

The transfer of title fair,
To the land that lay up there;

When, to her surprise and chagrin,
Father St. Lawrence, with gentle voice,

Told her that she could not bargain,
For she had not even choice.

"Now, my daughter, not one farthing
Of this vast and rich estate

Has been left unto True's darling,
Now, I tell you, 'tis not too late.

"All this land you tho't was yours
By inheritance of your blood,

Was bequeathed by your dear father
To one you never thought he would".

Now, I've brought the Judge of Probate
As an honored guest of mine,

That he might reveal the truth,
That it might be writ in rhyme.

Then, to soothe the disappointment,
The old judge with silvery hair

Drew from 'neath his outer garment,
Two old papers kept with care.

One was read by him to Sadie,
Where her father had endowed

All his lands, and kine and money
On the one who made her proud.

When this document was ended,
And was handed to Trueman,

The old sage, St. Lawrence, pretended
That he enjoyed youth again.

"Read, Judge! read your other paper!
Tell my daughter here the truth;

Tell her what their anxious fathers
Did for them while in their youth."

When the document was ended,
With tears showering down her face,

Sadie, kisses, sweetly blended,
While she held him in embrace.

Long their fortunes had been blended
By the signatures alone

Of their fathers in their child days,
As they played around their home.

"True, my dear; O will you come here?
Sign this deed! Come quick, O do;

Carry out my simple wishes;
Sarah is my friend, so true."

"Yes, my darling, this with pleasure
I will do, to please you all;

It is my most pleasant leisure
To do bidding at your call."

So, the deed of gift was given,
And in happiness they'd start;

From that home they'd ne'er be driven,
Life anew to never part.

There in happiness and comfort
Did they live upon the place

Where the evil of proud passion
Smothered one in dire disgrace.

Happy was Salome and Trueman
When they saw their protege safe

In the hands of Cousin Hawthorne,
On the Waddington old place.

Safe within the coils of homelife,
Safe within the cottage walls,

Safely with a trusting husband,
Safe within their friendly calls.

Thus the vengeance of our Hero
Was full spent to meet her theme;

Yet so different from a Nero,
Because she knew she could redeem.

Salome's revenge was to her sweet,
'Cause she'd conquered, not cut down;

Now she feared no one to meet,
Nor would any wear a frown.

Though some years had been so bitter,
And had fraught such cruel pain;

Now the coldest of the winter
Seemed like flowery beds of green.

Now, away up on the mountains,
In the well known Empire State,

Sadie Waddington is living
In sweet REVENGE, where she met fate.