The Cecil Whig., 1871-07-29
Ride on the Black Valley Railroad.
BY REV. 1. N. TARBOx, D. D.

You have heard Of the ride of John Gilpin,
That captain SO jocund and gay,
How he rode down to Edmonton village,
| In very remarkable way.
You have heard of the ride of Mazcppa,
! Bound fast to his wing-footed steed,
How he coursed through the fields and the
forests,
| At very remarkable speed.
But / sing of trip more exciting,
| In a song which | cannot restrain,
Of a ride down the Black Valley Railroad,
OF ride on the Black Valley train.
The setting out place for the journey,
Is Sippington station, l think,
Where the engines for water take whisky,
And the people take-something to drink.
From collisions you need fear no danger,
No trains are ever run back,
| They all go one way-to perdition,
Provided they keep on the track.
By the time we reach Medicine village,
The passengers find themselves sick,
Have leg-ache, or back ACHE or headache,
Or some ache that strikes to the quick.
We are pious, and hold by the Scripture,
With Paul the Apostle agree
To take "wine " instead of much "water," :"
For our "often infirmity.'
In fact we improve on the reading,
BY just slight change in text,
Say Gotten" where the Scripture says
"littlc,'
And leave ''little " for what may come
next.
We break up at Tippleton station,
To try and get rid of our pain,
At Topersville also we tarry,
And do the same over again.
Our spirits indeed may be willing,
But very weak is the flesh,
So oft as we stop for five minutes"
We use all the time to refresh
Now we come to the great central station,
The last stopping place on the line,
Drunkard's Curve-where is kept the chief
store-house
OF rum, whisky, brandy, and wine.
From this place on to Destruction,
The train makes no break or delay,
And those who may wish to stop sooner,
Are kindly thrown out by the way.
A full supply of bad whisky
For our engine is taken in here,
And queer looking fellow from Hades
Steps on for our engineer.
From Drunkard's Curve to Destruction
The train is strictly express,
And will not be slowed or halted
For any flag Of distress.
And so when all things are ready,
From Drunkard's Curve we set out;
Let me give you some flying glimpses
Of the places along the route:
First Rowdyville claims our attention,
Then QuarreltoD comes into view,
Then Riotville breaks on the vision,
And the filthy Beggarstown too.
AS we rush by the village of woodland,
Three wretches are thrown from the
train,
We can see them rolled over and over
Through the darkness, the mud and the
rain.
Our engineer chuckles and dances
In the wild lurd flashes he throws,
Hotter blaze the red fires of his furnace,
As Oh into backness he goes.
0 the sounds that we hear in the darkness,
Liz ituS anu cly ylilS anu SIoahS,
The rawlings of anger and madness,
The sobbings and pitiful moaps!
Fer now we have entered the regions
Where all things horrible dwell,
Where the shadows are peoplcd with gob-
Inns,
With the fiends and the furies of hell.
In this deep and stygan darkness,
Lost spirits have made their abode;
1t is plain-we are near to Destruction,
Very near to the end of the road.
Would you like, my young friend, to take
passage
To this region of horror and pain?
Here stretches the Black Valley Railroad,
And here stands the Black Valley train.
Congregationalst.