Watertown republican. [volume] (Watertown, Wis.) 1860-1906, 1871-10-11

second out of time on the Amens, gilt
tered on his lady-lize finger. By one of
those cynical contrasts of the frontier,
his garb was by Poole, but his mustacI,e
was dyed by Day & Martin
Give heerd, y he continued, putting
his hand behind his hip, 'sthat this was
a trial trip of song-sharps. Eff so, I'll
jest chip in. Tn from Roaring Camp,
near Skdnk's Misery, and my name is
well, you know that, if you know
anything" He read with exquisite ex-
preston the following:
Who? well-comii.' so student,
Pm hardly ready TO say.
know but I'd rather you wouldn't
Put it to me just that way.
Not that my stripe is modest;
That rubbed off long ago:
And hare been questioned the oddeeS
And Pm not altogether slow.
Come set up to this here table
You bring us two more beers
COuldn / put it fable,
Sich as boy often hears?
You know every gardner mulches
Round some partic'ar tree:
Men read, in the deepest gulehes
And so-they've found out me
Twas crlttin' queer sort o. capers
So the folks out there said:
But ] ask you to look i'll the papers
And see what stuff's most read.
Why, JIM the very way met you
People knows, far and near
Knows from my tellin'-and yet you
Ask me who's first! Its queer.
Hang it what's the use o. beatin'
Round the bush in this here way?
And you dOn all the treatin',
And me with nothing to saw
Here's to as this way I can show it.
If you haven't already guessed:
We're drinkin' the health o. the poet
That's fiattened out all the rest
Here long, lank, farmer-looking
man, with travel-stained garments Of
Kentucky jeans, weather-b beaten face,
rough with two days of grizzled beard,
enormous brown hands and wrists p-o-
truding from the short coat-sleeves, and
a general air of melancholy and tobacco
about him, came slouching up to the
platform, and taking off his tatte-ed
fur cap, said to the PRESIDENT
Good morning, Jedgel [ drapped
in to take hand long O the other po-
cts, but eff ye amt got no better stock
nor this, [ reckon I'll skeet back to
Spunky Pint. Why, Jedge! my little
Gabe-he's at school at Hell's Bend, IL
MagoOpin O.,-dogg on my skin eff he
can't sing the socks off'n that thar little
gambolier
''Confine yourself to your own po-
etry, said the chairman, austerely,
and the Pike sadly shook the hay-seed
from his long iron-gray hair, and read
these rhymes, in a snuffiing tone curl
ously at variance with their ibertine
tendency:
You fellows East may sing you please,
And tickle the scalps of all concerned;
aE-av will ant
Rip with Euripides, and be darned
But to find the real high pressure style,
And travel the stavingest road to glory.
You must go out West for thousand mile,
And never stop till you pass Peory.
We don't prance round in white kid gloves,
Smellin' of grease and sassyfrack:
Our yittles amt honey and turtle-doves
And when ace kiss, its a regular smack.
We take things rough, but swaller 'em whole:
We don't pretend to be simpern pious;
And what we are fit for, blast my soul!
II you want to know, come out and try us!
These here United States, they say,
Is OWN the world outfit of verse:
Pike COuntyl fix it, any day.
And who goes furder'D fare the worse
There's man lives out on the peraira thar
In an old shebang, as I've heerd tootin'
And II hlsn don't go through your hide and har,
It's my opinion there1l be some shootin'
A wild warwhoop resounded through
the building, and a wilder apparition
burst upon the scene. he was dressed
from head to foot in buckskin dyed
fiery red; strings of silver bells tinkled
about him; his face was painted in
broad alternate bands of green, yellow,
and crimson a long scalp-Iock, stiffen-
ed with eagles feathers, reached half
way to the ceiling. Mr.. Shanks ordered
this report to be strong. [ hope this
will suit. -RepOrter In a voice loud
enough to drown the whistle of ten
locomotives, he read in strange runic
chant the following poem, from man.
uscript signed Joaquin, written in let
tiers of blood on the tanned hide of q
Comanche princess:
Far ON the hot Apache plain
I snched the girth and I huckIed the rein.
The glorious girl behind me sang
But sprang to the saddle without a pang
And gave the spur to my wild mustang
And coil of the loose riata's fold
Over his TANKS like a serpent rolled
AS his hoofs went forward, and forward, and OF,
Till the plain, and the hill, and the girl were one
The forests of cactus stabbed and sfunn
Inc sun beat down on my skinless tongue
Inc aust was thick IN my slmmering mouth,
And whirlwind of flame came out of the South,
from the dry bananas, whose fiery hair
Slnged the monkeys and parroquets there
crashed through the flame. dashed DER the sand
Bearing my songs in my red right hand
Bearing the songs of the Western land,
Tender and glowing and fierce and grand
Take them and read them and WELD me the crow,
Which the old Sterras me cast down
From peaks untrodden, of gorgeous glare,
cast down upon me and babe me wear.
And whose denies it he shall be
Struck, and despised and spit on by me-
AS loathsOme snake, venomous thing
Fit but to swelter and crawl and sting
And build his cell in the rotten, rank
Recess of a noisOme toadstool bank
While l, like hawk in the splendid sky
Scream revenge as wheel on high,
And the sound of my screaming shall never die