P6 
 
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PHIL. COWEN, PRINTER, 
 498-500 THIRD AVENUE, NEW YORK. 
 
Ccan Solts- €ol)cn, 
 
 ^otn, ^dobet 16, 1840, 
 
 pieb, ^eptetnaet 19, 1884. 
 
 
715 /3S-7 
 
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(From The American Hebrew oi Sept. 26, 1884.) 
 
 3n ilTemoriam. 
 
 The many friends in New York and Philadel- 
 phia of Leon Solis-Cohen, have heard of his 
 death with profound regret. 
 
 Mr. Cohen was born in Philadelphia and died 
 in that city, but had resided in New York for 
 the last twelve years. His gentleness and his 
 kindness endeared him to all who knew him, 
 while his extensive knowledge and varied talents 
 rendered his conversation entertaining, his criti- 
 cism instructive, and the help he freely gave 
 valuable in the extreme. 
 
 He was an ardent lover of belles lettreSy and 
 besides being skilful with the pencil, possessed 
 a remarkable gift of versification, though he had 
 exercised it but rarely of late years. As a 
 young man he was prominent in various literary 
 
associations, particularly the Philadelphia Lit- 
 erary Institute, to whose proceedings he contri- 
 buted largely. This society was dissolved at the 
 outbreak of the Civil War, many of its members 
 enlisting in the Union Army, the Keystone 
 Artillery in particular being largely recruited 
 therefrom. Mr. Cohen, though barely of age, 
 was made corporal of the gun. He received 
 an injury just prior to the battle of Gettysburg, 
 which necessitated his removal to his own home 
 for treatment, and incapacitated him for further 
 military duty. 
 
 After the war, he resided for some years in 
 Memphis, Tenn., and while there versified for 
 the American Israelite a number of Rabbinical 
 legends and some old Germano-Jewish comic 
 tales which he had picked up in reading and in 
 conversation, having always been attracted to 
 the quaint and curious in literature and folk-lore. 
 He wrote at times under the nom de plume of 
 ** Lemon S. Cream," but the Jewish stories were 
 related in the person of one "Sh'muel," who was 
 
made the hero of them all. While in New Or- 
 leans, to which city he had been called on busi- 
 ness, detaining him many months, he contributed 
 under the name of " Lemon S. Cream " to the 
 New Orleans Suttday Times and other journals 
 of that city. 
 
 He had a decided inclination towards the 
 study of medicine, and indeed had attended one 
 full course of lectures at Jefferson College, but 
 becoming engaged to be married in New York, 
 and a commercial opening presenting itself in 
 that city, he abandoned the profession for the 
 more immediate returns of a mercantile career. 
 He never lost his interest in the art of healing^ 
 and made it a point to look over the medical 
 journals at the libraries, to note the advances in 
 subjects in which he had acquired special inter- 
 est. 
 
 Of the sciences, chemistry was his favor- 
 ite, and he was quite a skilful amateur photo- 
 grapher. In company with the late Cornelius 
 Levy, of Philadelphia, he visited Richmond 
 
shortly after Lee's surrender, and made a number 
 of views of the burned district and other points 
 of interest, which were published under the title 
 of " The Rebel Capital and its Environs," and 
 met with quite an extensive sale. 
 
 He was irreproachable in his domestic rela- 
 tions, a good son, a tender husband, an affec- 
 tionate brother, a devoted father. There was 
 something womanly in his tenderness, and a 
 gentleness and refinement in his speech rarely 
 encountered. He was charitable, not alone with 
 gifts, but with his time. During an epidemic 
 of yellow fever at Memphis, he was one of the 
 citizens who nursed the sick. 
 
 He had been ailing for some time, and with 
 the close of 1883 abandoned business, in com- 
 pliance with the imperative orders of his physi- 
 cians. His medical knowledge made him realize 
 the incurable nature of his disease, but he bore 
 his affliction with fortitude, rarely complaining, 
 even when his sufferings must have been great. 
 While his early death had not been unexpected, 
 
the end was so sudden as to surprise even his 
 medical attendant. Up to the very night of his 
 death his thought was of others, and he evinced 
 a lively interest in the doings of those about 
 him, planning and suggesting with his accus- 
 tomed clearness of thought and fertility of 
 resource. He is at rest and in peace, bequeath- 
 ing to his dear ones the comforting memory of 
 his virtues, and transmitting untarnished to his 
 children the good name he received from his 
 father. 
 
(From The American Israelite.) 
 
 POSEN VS. G'NESEN. 
 
 A COMMON-PLACE OLD STORY GOOD-NATUREDLY 
 SET TO RHYME. 
 
 There is a town of some renown. 
 
 Which for my theme is chosen ; 
 For I shall tell what once befell 
 
 The wiseacres of Posen. 
 And if you do not think quite true, 
 
 This story so amazin'; 
 You've but to ask — 'tis no great task — 
 
 The people of G'nesen. 
 
 These last at Leipzig, used to buy 
 Their wares; and then at prices high, 
 To Posen's less keen witted men, 
 Would sell the self-same goods again. 
 
 At last the Poseners 'gan to say, 
 
 " This sort of business doesn't pay ; 
 
 '' A wiser course let us pursue, 
 
 " And buy our goods at Leipzig, too. 
 
lO 
 
 Now in the town, there was not one, 
 
 Who ever had to Leipzig gone, 
 
 And though it was strange — 'twas no less true,- 
 
 The road to Leipzig, no one knew. 
 
 Hence 't was proposed that a committee 
 Be sent to the adjoining city. 
 Who when the wagons thence should start, 
 Might follow them to Leipzig Mart. 
 
 This motion, without hesitation. 
 Was passed, at once, by acclamation ; 
 And Posen, its great shrewdness praising, 
 Set out to circumvent G'nesen. 
 
 The wagons left the latter place 
 Jogging along at easy pace. 
 When just as the first day was closing. 
 There hove in sight the carts from Posen. 
 
 " This win not do," G'nesen said, 
 " We can't afford to lose our trade ; " 
 
 So, with accustomed sharpness, they 
 
 Concocted on the following day 
 
 A plan of action, whose fruition, 
 
 Would end all Posen's competition. 
 
 At break of day our friends from Posen 
 Were still in Morpheus' arms reposm'; 
 
II 
 
 But their sharp neighbors long were gone. 
 They started shortly before dawn, 
 But— ere they left their camping ground, 
 They turned each Posen wagon round. 
 
 The Poseners, innocent of schemes. 
 Had shaken off their morning dreams ; 
 Had washed and dressed and laid Tephillin, 
 And onward to proceed were willing, 
 When lo ! G'nesen's carts were gone ! 
 They gaze about with looks forlorn, 
 Till Sh'muel said : " Well, let them go, 
 
 " Sure, by this time, the way we know. 
 
 " The road to Leipzig leads straight on ; 
 " Let's hitch up horses and begone ! " 
 
 He started off — each did the same. 
 
 And back the very route they came. 
 
 They blundered on as best they could ; 
 
 But as they went, a little wood. 
 
 Which they the eve before passed by, 
 
 Now fixed with wonder, every eye. 
 
 And Sh'muel cried, (he was their Hochom,) 
 
 " Die ganze Welt ist bloss ein Mokom ! 
 
 " We passed just such a spot before, 
 " Things so alike I never saw." 
 
 The ruined Schloss, grown o'er with green, 
 Which, but the day before, they'd seen. 
 
 > ' 1 
 
12 
 
 From their delusion never woke 'em, 
 
 But each one cried, " The world's one Mokom ! " 
 
 Bound still for Leipzig on they roam, 
 
 Nor dream their steps but take them home. 
 
 Castles and hovels, woods and hills, 
 
 Swift-rushing streams and gentle rills, 
 
 All look familiar — seen before — 
 
 And still they wonder more and more, 
 
 And in one's ribs another 'd poke him, 
 
 With, " My neshomoh! the world's one Mokom ! " 
 
 And so, along the beaten track. 
 
 Our friends from Posen wandered back. 
 
 Each hour some fresh sight awoke 'em, 
 
 To the great fact, " The world's one Mokom ! '' 
 
 One day — the sun was almost down — 
 
 They saw the spires of a town ; 
 
 And Sh'muel shouted with delight, 
 
 " In Leipzig we will sup to-night." / 
 
 / 
 But to the city nearer come, / 
 
 Each stock and stone was just like home ; 
 
 And stiff with wonder all were frozen. 
 
 To think that Leipzig looked like Posen ; 
 
 Men, houses, cattle, streets and trees, 
 
 As like to Posen, as two peas : 
 
 Their stupid wonder seemed to choke 'em, 
 
 " 'Tis wirklich wahr, the world's one Mokom." 
 
13 
 
 They plod on towards the Judengasse, 
 Past many an old and well known Strasse, 
 And with each step increased their wonder, 
 Till with a shock like clap of thunder. 
 Each startled Posener sees his frau: 
 
 " Der Teufel ! What 's the matter now ! " 
 
 " Come back so soon from Leipzig fair I '' 
 Their wives enquire — Still they stare; 
 Till Sh'muel cried, " Who'd have supposen, 
 
 " The road to Leipzig led to Poscn ! " 
 
 And from that day, the old folks say 
 To stay at home they've chosen ; 
 
 And that is whyj^z^ never spy 
 
 Aman that came from Posen. 
 
 Sh'muel. 
 
 Memphis, 1868. 
 
 \ 
 
(From The American Israelite.) 
 
 A DIVISION. 
 
 IN ACCORDANCE WITH THE LAW, — AND THE 
 PROFITS. 
 
 A Rabbi once, who dwelt in Surinam, 
 Most deeply skilled in Rashi and Rambam, 
 Midrash, Kaballah, all those things that fit 
 The subtile brain, the finest hair to split ; 
 Whose learned sermons ever breathed the Ruach 
 Of Mishna, and Gemara, Shulchan Aruch, 
 Was asked by a disciple : — " On the way, 
 
 " Should one find money, on the Sabbath-day, 
 " Is he allowed the money thence to take, 
 " Since handling money doth the Sabbath break?" 
 The Rabbi said :— " Draw nigh to me, Shemuel, 
 " And unto thee I will expound the rule : — 
 " The money may be lifted and conveyed 
 '• Unto some place of safety, and there laid 
 " Until the Sun has in the West subsided, 
 " When in three parts the same should be divided. 
 " One part expended in the Poor's behalf, 
 " Another portion given to the Raf, 
 "The other third, the finder his may call; 
 " And Heaven's blessing shall descend on all.'' 
 
i6 
 
 Sometime thereafter, on a Sabbath eve, 
 
 His flock departed — he about to leave — 
 
 Upon the steps, the Rabbi did espy 
 
 A pile of money most inviting lie. 
 
 Dropping his kerchief o'er the glittering heap. 
 
 (From contact with the coin, his hand to keep,) 
 
 He gently raised it up from where it lay, 
 
 And homeward turning, went his peaceful way. 
 
 The queenly Sabbath had resigned her sceptre, 
 When Samuel thus accosted his preceptor : 
 
 " Master and Teacher! if it be your pleasure, 
 
 " Inform me how you will divide your treasure !' 
 The Rabbi said : " It shall be fairly done,— 
 
 " One part goes to the finder, ME, my son . 
 
 "The next, as Rabbi, I must take, I'm sure, 
 " And all the balance goes to me, I'm poor ! '' 
 
 Sh'muel. 
 
 Memphis, 1868. 
 
(From the Turf^ Field and Farm.) 
 
 SIXTY-EIGHT AND SIXTY-NINE. 
 
 Year after year — an endless ring — 
 
 In due succession rise ; 
 " The King is dead ! Long live the King ! " 
 
 For as the old year dies, 
 Another dons the robe of state 
 
 And reigns by right divine — 
 Peace to thine ashes, '68 ! 
 
 Long life to '69 ! 
 
 Some men will rise to power and place ; 
 
 Some fall to rise no more ; 
 Some jog along at easy pace, 
 
 Just as they jogged before. 
 And some will dine off massive plate, 
 
 And some will scarcely dine ; 
 Ard the world as it wagged in '68, 
 
 Will wag in '69. 
 
 Hopes that we held in days gone by 
 Will fade in days to come ; 
 
i8 
 
 And many a lip m anguish cry, 
 And many a lip grow dumb ; 
 
 And many a time we'll curse our fate, 
 And at our lot repine, 
 
 For the bubbles we chase in '68 
 Will burst in '69. 
 
 Plots will be laid, reforms begun, 
 
 For which none cares a straw. 
 And laws be made in Washington 
 
 And broke in Arkansaw. 
 The men who guide the ship of State, 
 
 Their guardianship resign — 
 And the powers that be in '68, 
 
 Be powerless '69. 
 
 Friendship will fade away like mist, 
 
 And favors be forgot ; 
 Women will scold the men they kissed, 
 
 And reputations spot. 
 For cooing love will turn to hate, 
 
 And even (I opine) 
 The girl that's true m '68, 
 
 Prove false in '69. 
 
 But, Myra, canst thou recollect 
 When we were children still ? 
 
^9 
 
 Who pinched thee then, would now protect 
 
 And shield thee from all ill. 
 For thee this heart doth palpitate, 
 
 Its every throb is thine, 
 And the lass I love in '68 
 
 I'll love in '69 ! 
 
 Lemon S. Cream. 
 
 Philadelphia, Dec. 30, 1884. 
 
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