Staunton spectator. [volume] (Staunton, Va.) 1849-1896, 1857-01-07

POETRY.

The following extract from Bob Ruly sepistie
in the last Literary Messenger is specimen oil
the lively and amusing talent which the writer
possesses in the line which he has chosen to ex-
ercise his genius. We should like to hear again
and again from Bob:
Bob Ruly's Experience at the Fair.
But the poor man is blest if a robber attacks him
His safety consists in a very old maxim,
To which yOu Mr.. Editor, arc not stranger,
Those magical words thought is never In danger.
For if tile knave's hand in his pocket e'er fingers
lie will find nothing there but his pilfering fingers.
Apropos of pck-pockets I'll wind up my letter
With story heard, there ever a better?-
father and son from neighboring county Qull
Of corn and tobacco but of wit not so bountiful,)
Coming down to the Fair with some premium beeves,
Like the traveller to Jerhco fell among thieves.
"Now, Jake, says the tataer, "ms dutiful SONNY,
Take your daddy advice n lake of your money,
For be sure if you meet an unlucky mishap
The loss shall come out Of your share of the crap"
"Never fear me" says Jacob, "for very well know
No pick-pocket ketches sight of my rhino-
You look at them oxen, and don't be afraid,
Believe will step over yonder to Red Eye
Thus much to his sire said our confident hero
Dut u iutul HliSllp uIOuSut HIS SPltitS W LcIVt
And soon through the crowd to his daddy he dashes
With his mouth all agape, and his face pale ashes
ooh daddy, them light-fngered what do you call
Has tooken and stolen my watch and my wallet
Just give me enough my expenses to bear
And Gust if | a'ant seen the last of the FAIR"
"Now, Jake" cried the father, as red as ruby,
"Now who would have thought you were such great
BOBBY!
have got half mind not to lend you dime
To teach you TO take better the next time,
But here is sufficient to bear your expenses
If YOU lose it, I'll knock YOU clean out of your
With this the good farmer then proudly began,
With the air of o wise and superior man,
To look for his purse in the depths Of his pockets
When 10 his big eyes almost start from their sockets
The truth will appear and the moment he sees i,
''OJsteteydnt come, coz taucibaS h@Si,"
At last he cried out '0h my son. they are witches,
For had all my money pinned up in my breeches-
But alas, it is gone we are both on level,
SO the Fair and the rogues may all go TO the devil
And the las, that | saw of the ill-iated pair
They were flying away from the scenes of the Fair,
While still remained in reflection 10 toss over
Tn events of the day like sapent philosopher.
1t brought to my mind the poor pilgrim of Bunyan
Whose eyes were as red if frubbed with an onion,
As he saw his friend Faithful caught mp in the air
From the crimes and the follies of Vanity Fair
Well was it for him that his spirit was whirled,
If his Fair was like this, from cruel a world
For who knows if he had not gone up like rocket,
But some villain had tried to be picking his pocket?
Thus off from the Fair sneak the father and son,
Their pleasure all vanished, their money all gone
They had promised before they came down with the
cattle
Some cakes for the children-the baby rattle
But the cakes all dough to the taste of the young
And they've rattle eSough in the "good womans'
tongue
And still they are picking, Il may as well mention0
Instead of their pockets, this bone of contention.