Martinsburg independent. [volume] (Martinsburg, W. Va.) 1875-1900, 1888-11-17

man Wlldt tuO Tic WIS tut iduguiuS
stock of royal aristocracy ? he was
MY FRIEND, faithful and just to me.
He gave me the right to measure the
giant trees in the golden dream-land
of the East at 81 per day. Alas /
will never get the 81. /, too, will
soon climb into my little bed to sleep
off the pain and anguish of defeat
and despair. Bows head in grief.)
Friends, defeated candidates, and
democrats, we have come to bury
Grover, not to praise him. His Ca
reer has been full Of blunders and
errors, but Faulkner says he was a
"majestic leader" and Faulkner
ought to know whereof he speaks.
He has often shook his fat fingers,
and smiled into the depth of his
''innocuous desuetude.n BY one fell
sweep of the pen he awoke the Amer
lean Nation to a realization Of the
fact that dear tcool made cheap
clothes, and carried the curses of his
people on his back, like the .Old
Man of the Sea- weighed down poor
Sinbad. Yet Faulkner says he was
majestic. Was this majestic, when
that the poor hath wept,
GROVER HATH VETOED
the poor soldiers pension bill. Ma
jesty should be made Of better stuff.
But, if We have tears, prepare to shed
them now. Ye all do know this rag.
I remember well, the first time Old
Thurman blew his nose on it. 1t
was the night after the st. Louis
convention. Look, through here the
envious Hill did snort, and as he
drew his accursed nose away, mark
how the beauty Of that matchless
bandanna was married. But, there
is time for all things, 0 people. 1t
is time for me to close. Take your
last look at the tomb. In the pres
ence of these tombs Of the great dead
let me say:
farewell, a long farewell, to all thy great
ness, Grover
This is the state of man; to-day he puts forth
Ahe touuur ioufcs VI hoPS O-"oiiV~ WIS
And bears his blushing honors thick upon
him;
AID 'i surely : '~''
He's good for four years more, the campaign
ends.
And then he falls as Grover has.
Turning to the Junior Semator.)
Faulkner, ] charge thee, fling away ambi
ton,
By that sin angels fell how can man then,
The image Of his Maker, hope to win by it?
Love thyseif last, cherish those hearts that
hate thee,
Corruption wins not more than honesty"
And now, farewell dear Grove. All
our hopes
ARE BURIED WITH THEE;
all our hearts with thine were busted.
"Coms not back again to suffer,
Come not back again to labor,
Where Republicans and politics
Wear the heart and waste the body.
Soon my job was completed,
Soon your footsteps will follow
To the Island of the Defeated
To the Kingdom OF "Cheap Whiskey,"
To the Land of Cheap John Clothing"
As Boze finished--a mournful
wall went up from the hearts of the
gloomy voyagers. The funeral was
over. The doxology was sung, and
in the pale moon-beams of the night
the tombs of Grover, the Mighty, and
Allen, the False Prophet, may be
seen glistening and quiet---a warning
to
FREE TRADE, UN-AMERICAN
politicians to stay out of the band
wagon unless they can blow horn.
Peaceful be thy rest, fallen chieftains!
close by the salty deepl Slumber on,
slumber on--until Gabriel blows his
trumpet; until the moon to blood
hath turned until the American
people are again ready to elevate
cracked intellect and one-horse
statesmen.
p. S.-The boys are all home.
The say the trip did them good. We
hope SO. Yale, Yale