, 1840-06-13
Pc Y.
From the Missouri and Illinois Temperance Herald.
THE GREAT MOUTH.

THE GREAT MOUTH.
Come fathers, mothers, daughters, sons;
The high, the great, and little ones;
Come, bold your peace, 10 me give ear,
IIl tell you things a little queer.
The object of my little poem.
You'll surely find not far from home,
He lives in town and country too,
His name you'll guess, and that'll do.
He's sure a beast in human shape,
Yet not at all like Jackanape.
From east to west. from north to south,
There's none that's got so large a mouth,
He eats his meat Just like us all,
But takes for drink, things great and small;
Hear what they are, and Oh my eyes!
He swallows things Of awful size:
A farm he had,-a home most dear,
But bartered both for rum and beer,
Not only home, but homestead things,
Such as would comfort Queens and Kings.
At first he drinks his cash all down,
And then he goes I" on tick" in town;
Next down he drinks his spades and hoes,
Then p!oughs and mattocks down he throws;
Now sheep and cattle, one and all,
Run down his throat as 'twere n stall,
Next down he drinks horses and hogs,
Ducks and dickens, cats and dogs.
Now for the haystacks and the grain,
Potatoes, turnips in their train;
Come geese, turkies and every chick,
Down Barney's throat you must fly quick.
The door is wide, the scuttle clear,
Peacocks and hens their fate will share:
Where now must, next, poor Barney 60,
To find relief from coming wo,
Look out, look round, again he's dry
Haste, bring him drink or else he'll die.
Now "clear the Kitchen" clear it soon,
"Bring every pot, knife, fork and spoon.
The table-cloth, and table too,
Pans, plates and tubs, not all will do,
Bring kitchen goods, both large and small,
The stove and stove-pipe. wood and all,
Bring kettles, ovens, trays and Chairs
BY all that's law the Sheriff swears;
Who would have thought he could survive
With such clutter in his hive;
But still he lives and still he thirsts,
Full twenty times more than at first.
Well search again, the house explore,
If still he thirsts he must have more;
Take down the hangings of each room,
The bedsteads bring, and bring the loom,
Bring counterpales and coverlids,
Fetch sheets and comforts and Ire beds.
Come Barney now. come Barney come,
There's nothing like the good old rum;
To make more room for other things,
He sends them down and then he sings
"My Stomach's full, Pm jolly now,
My haystack's gone, and SOS my cow
He soon decides what next to do,
His house and farm he'll swallow too
Stretched pretty wide his mouth has been,
To get his goods and chattles 10,
But there's a remnant-house and farm
10 swallow them will do no harm,
So now he strives with mouth and hand,
To swallow down his house and land,
With slight of hand and effort great,
He soon drinks down a fine estate.
Fortune entire, cen to a groat,
Has all gone down his thirsty throat;
lis strange to tell and truly sad,
The more he got the less he had;
Now all he has, It's truth not lies,
Are wounds and bruises and red eyes:
And as to wife and babes, it's said
They long since died for lack of bread;
And now poor Barney's race is run,
The struggles DER his souls undone,
The fellows dead, died in the street,
Around him now the neighbors meet.
The coroner with jurors ONE
Their verdict is, che died Of rum"
And now for Barney let us draft
A fit, appropriate epitaph:
Poor Barney Bacchus, "here he lies,
No body laughs, no BODY cries,
Where he has gone. or how he fares