The Andrew County Republican. [volume] (Savannah, Mo.) 1871-1876, 1875-09-03
Daddy Flick's Spree.

Inc most absurd ana peculiar nose
That ever invited a passer-bv
To think of the worth of ebrietv.
Naught can | say in his praise | wot.
Respectable: Honest: Oh, certainly not!
Most people called him a wretched old sOt.
ONLY a begaar. He used to stand
Day by day, with his hat in his hand,
Asking fer pence from the grave and the gay,
And getting them, too, | am glad to say,
Not in abundance, but Just enough
For a little bread. and more of the stun
h went to nourish his curious nose
And keep il blooming, a full. blown rose.
Life" he said, for the rich or poor,
Means but the same-endure, endure!
Troubles to poor and rich befall,
But the bottle" he said, sis a friend to all
Now that you know the old reprobate,
Beggar, dishonest, inebriate,
All that he asks, sir, of you or me
Is a little measure of charity.
For twenty years he had been the same,
Till at last the usual period came
When age began to assert itself
And threatened to lay him upon the shelf,
And parties said in that part Of the town
That the poor old sinner was breaking down,
When All al once he was seen 10 be
Displaying a greater activity
Begging with more than his usual vim,
And, what was entirely new for him,
Picking up jobs and inquiring, too,
For any work he could find to do.
People said il was strange, ftruc.
When they heard a inc to that effect
A change impossible to expect.
1t seemed, You perceive. anomalous
That Flick should be turning INDUSTRIOUS.
But 50 il was; if You'll listen well,
The bottom facts OF the case I'll tell.
Ali of Us in this vale oftears
Rush along through the busy years
Chasing phantoms. and, when they're caught,
Finding out we have captured ~naught.
I have caught shadOws-confound the same.
Happy the mortal who has no aim.
Flick. for seventy years to date,
Had never thought II be bOthering fate;
Had been cOntented to barely live,
Caring for nothing the world can give
a sort of philosopher. as | think.
In seeking for naught but his meat and drink
lbut. WlIl YOU, never Il uOllOn Udu Nc
OF any claim TO philosophy.
The greatest and wisest have one soft streak,
And so at the last Flick showed up weak.
He said TO himself on a certain dav.
DADDY Flick, you are old and gray,
Likely to drop off any day.
Before your coffin is lowered down,
nr u-bo+ :, yr-nr-n -oI oo ON tha tnvvp
You ought TO have. As it seems to me,
One good, Oid-fa>hiOned, expensive spree"
Alas. | fear that my readers all
Are disappointed at such a fall.
| wish he hai felt a higher call,
Something OF nObler and healthier tone,
An aspiration with more backbone.
But | told you before that the poor old rat
Had never a virtue beneath his hat.
| must tell my stories as they bcfall;
If you don't Ike 'em don't read 'em, that's all.
After a couple ofmonths had passed
Daddy Fitch had at length amassed
A sum sufficient, he thought, to see
His way to that same old-fsshioned spree.
And SO one night rs he padded home
He said to himself that the time had come,
And, cackiing over an ancient song,
He jingled his cash as he went along.
What were his his assets? a marvellous
sum;
Enough to purchase unlimited rum
Listen, you who collect your rents y
About a dollar and fifty cents.
Passing along by q vacant lot
(The name of the street | have clean forgot,
A very diminutive boy he spied,
Slouchins Il very tall fence beside:
A lonesome figure so woe-begone,
So notwithstanding and haggard and wan,
That even Flick, in his callous heart,
Felt a movement of pity start.
Ragged he was and exceedingly small,
With garments that covered him, that was all;
a cap remarkable after its kind,
With front dismantled and baggy behind;
Shoes too big by about a mile,
But gaping wide with a frightful smile,
AS though they laughed at the tiny feet
That dragged such a burden along the street.
He stood there ~li,tless and weary and worn,
Hands IN his pockets, alone and %forlorn;
His features stained with the dirty streaks
or the tears that had dried on his little cheeks.
Flick was none Of your tender sort;
Philanthropy never had been his forte:
But the look Of the child was so wofulIy sad
That he stopped and spoke to the little lad,
And got the story I'll tell TO you,
Since it only requires Il line or two;
His mother had died in a drunken fit,
He was hungry, and that was the whole of if.
Flick, as you know, was all .primed for a
spree;
All the same he said, Come with me,'
And took the child to his narrow den,