The Somerset press. [volume] (Somerset, Ohio) 1873-1977, 1876-05-26

tory, Mr.. Sam Elder holds forth as
carpenter, cabinet maker, e'c.
West of Market Square short dis
I tance. and on the north sideof the street
the black smith shop Of George anc
Samuel Krumlauf. and the shoe shop o
Mr. J Croft, finish mp the trade-men o
that side of Main street
!e-t~rINUED MKT WEEK.
Ehe BIae. Maria.
Isert' the Gentlemen irAo posel the Jisiiag
and hunting party.
blessed silent groves, oh, may You BE-,
For ever, nlirth's best nursery,
Aay pure. contents
For ever pitch their tents
Upon these downs, these meads, these rocks.
these mountains;
And peace still slumbcr By these purling fOun-
taiIS.
which We may every year
Meet, when We come a-tlshing here"
Sir HENRY WorToN.
Whiiome a goodly companie
Would Loaf II night with Wallace {.
There Robin r. TO once said
Viii knowingly he scratched his head
Lei Dullu ItUl- anu uGIlleH lear.
And 90, and hunt the bear and deer
That roam beside the Moxahala,
And Ash Agreed, y said l, sans fail,
Delightful time we II have indeed.''
So, then, we built the tent with speed:
And painter Edd with curly head
Gave il a glorious coat II lead.
And made ii black as black could he;
And then its name occurred 10 me
Il know not how but sure twas by
Good haP.-we called il = Black Maria
Upon q day. poets say,
All in the gentle month Of May,
Whose breath, though wont with flowers to
play,
Grew cursed boisterous by the way,
With guns thai CLEANED in bright array"
\ little band, valiant few,
With martial [ ain in order due,
Marched down the creek and pitched Ctwas
nigh
Cool forest spring. the '.Blaek Maria
But some were left behind ii, said
Whose hopes, like autumn leaves, were dead.
For Charley NJ. desired TO 90,
But Mr.. II. said no, no, no.
And so,
He staid at home, I trow.
And Wallace not the Scottish chief
Had pros poets bright, alas too brief
Quoth Mr.. &. to him, deem,
You cannot your bark TO launch
On Jonathan's tempestuo is stream
For who will stay to keep the ranche2"
But sure there were enough beside
Encamped by MOxahala's tide
To range the woods, and hunt, and fish,
And cook and eat each savory dish.
With hopeful Tad-the sweetest lad
That could be had mOng good or bad
To watch the camp, and make the fire,
And fish all day, and never tire.
/ saw youthful hunter stand
With murderous shotgun in his hand,
Viewing a squirrel perched on high
While dread destruction fired his eve:
t'To be, or not to be?' said he,
And then he shot up in the tree
cts hard 20 spin this rhyme), ah me,
1t was dolorous sight TO see;
But, To- the squirrel did not fear il,
And ran unhurt, with native spirit,
Triumphant, in knot hole near it.
But this case was a sad exception;
Bv JOve, you'll call ii black deception
Ii l should tell what game was brought
In camp, and all the fish we caught.
Nor could paint the valiant deeds,
As countless as the hNrvest-seeds;
In truth, an epic scarce could do il,
And none alive could e'er get through it:
For Homer, Virgil long are dead,
And Millions ''in his little bed
And Dante has gone back to hell,
Nor left Bard this tale to tell.
But to conclude, suffice that all
Said "present' at the last roll-call,-
That not man mid blood and toll
Had ''shuff1ed off this mortal coil -
And all unanimous did agree
To have another ''jamboree.
ARIsToPHANFs-
May 10, 1876.