Bismarck weekly tribune. [volume] (Bismarck, Dakota [N.D.]) 1884-1943, 1895-02-22

lSOENE-Dense forest in front of state capitol
building at midnight. Sky dark and covered
with clouds. Resubmission chieftains gathered
about q bright fire. on which Is a huge vat. bnb-
bling melrily with some mysterious liquid.
6impsonius stirs the contents of the vat with a
rusty spade.l
SlMPsoN1us-Ah, dreadful eight Again we
stand beneath
The lowering sky and gaze far out across
The blood-stained field. How doth my bosom
heave
With that same throbbing pain which must have
felt
TIL imperial Bonaparte, whose scattered hosts
Fled crushed and broken at his Waterloo.
How doth the damnlng spectre OF defeat
Pursue me like the hated bub-tail flush,
Wherein a partial diadem of hearts
!s marred and spoiled. and rendered ~vaueless
by one lone spade, which flaws q peri ct whole,
And lands the table stake in stranger hands.
What, no! Prosserius, were you n OF slain,
And sacrificed to quell the wrath of Mars,
To swell the mound of bleaching skulls and
bones
Which soon must mark this fatal battle-ground?
I saw you in the thickest of the fray,
All bleeding, and sore-tried and smoke be-
grimed.
And then methought I saw you fall in death
O'ercome with loss of blood and ghastly
wounds.
All, horrid memory! I groaned aloud
That fate should pick the flower of our band.
Your hand, Prosserius, that I be sure,
lis not the wrath of him who was so brave,
So valorous and true, that 1 behold.
PRossER1us-'Tis I, in truth, but racked with
pain and wrenched
With agony of spirit and wi h grief.
At this sad ending. Seven times I fell,
Beneath the furious onslaught of the foe,
And each time rose, and gripped M sW ord more
tight,
And strove to sheathe it in some foeman's breast.
Until, at last, l sank. full overcome,
A horrid din of noises in my ears,
A Thousand times ten Thousand stars I saw,
And comets, with wide. glowing, fiery tails,
And then oblivion. When I awoke
The field was strewn with bodies of the slain,
All heaped and tossed together. And my sword
Blood-red and CORY, broken at my feet
Seemed emblematic Of our shattered cause.
But hist, here comes Winemanius, the brave,
! Let's reckon of our shattered, bro ken band.
W1NEMAN1Us-A CORY spectacle. On yonder hill
The victors feast within their spreading tents,
And sing in noisy chorus, gleeful chords
Down went McGinty to the ocesa's depths"
They got it where the chicken got the axe''
And other calling strains. While on the field
The stiff ming bodies OF our comrades lie,
Full cold in death. The doughty Flemingo.
The proud Coloskius, and many scores
OF gallant patriots. In one wild place,
"AoAo PAO0AAA6 AeA6oAoA LAA6GAC6 Acdk lQo1I
heads,
Horganius, of Caesars race and mien
Lies dead, and round him is a circle high
OF corpses, who did taste his elistenirg steel
And fell by his strong arm. Tylerius lies
Locked firmly in a foeman's dead embrace,
Both fell together at the final charge.
GLEAsoN1us-Methinks I see, on yonder hill
afer,
The watoh6res of the ~victors, where they gloat
| Aol ,o,o1 =, - H.. AI-- 1aJ.-
The ponderous Edwardius stands alone,
And trips the airy skirt dance. Now lie chants
The war cry of the dusky Sitting Bull.
All, by the beard of Allah-and the saints,
l would Tullerius could see him now.
MoLAcHL1o-What bubbles in the pot upon the
And breathes forth odors of such sick'ning
smell,
As to befoul the air, and make US faint
And 10th to flee from out its evil stencil?
Methinks tits Goldfish of an ancient growth.
Or, cen perchance. a mess of sauer-kraut,
With here and there an aged. decrepit egg.
l fain would learn what purpose it will serve.
s1MPsoN1us-'Tis prohibition whiskey. Breathe
it not
Fen to the naked trees, or silent stars,
Until it shall have served our several ends.
Nay, taste it not, for it's mysterious depths,
A secret would unfold. to harrow up
Your whole internal being. IT'S a mass
or plug tobacco, broken glass and kerosene.
Wild. red-eyed serpents roam at will within
Its dreadful 1~ecesses, and gaudy bugs,
And fishes, and q whole menagerie ~
Of horned insects would it's depths reveal.
light to brew
Such horrid style of liquor? Tell me why.
S1MPsoN1us-Ha, ha! This sinking, Tuning,
horrid mess
Shall go perforce to found an eyeless pig
Within the ~victors' lines. And by an soul
Well have revenge. Ere yet another moon
Shall light the darkened heavens with it's glow,
The pig shall be established. And the spell
OF misery shall cloak our victors DER. .
Ha, ha! How sweet the pleasures of revenge!
PRossER1us-Now. by my broken sword and this
right arm,
And BY a hundred gaping, CHASTITY wounds,
Which eeem to CRY revenge with parted lips,
I swear, ere long. in classic Shakespeare's
words.
The boot shall be upon the other foot.
s1MPsos1us-And by my raven scalp-lock.
matted thick
With blood, shed forth by these own severed
veins.
I'll taste of vengeance. One lone, eyeless pig
Turned loose to roam within the victors' lines
Will do the work. With willing hands we'll
brew,
The stock in trade. fermented kerosene.
Tobacco. and a pinch of broken glass,
prohibition mixture. Once they quaff,
And verify each one will be our meat.
PRossER1us-We will, we will! A worthy plan,
we'll wrought
How true it is by ancient sages taught,
More ways than one there are to skin q cat.
W1NEMAN1Us-Then let's away, and enter on the
work.
[Exeunt Prosserius, Winemanius, Gleasonius
and others. eimpsonius 1ooks out again, across
the battlefield, and soliloquizes:]
Now. by my halidome. this is a plan,
Full worthy of the gaunt Lamourio,
I'll swathe m bruised limbs in v~aseline,
And bide ~ time. Lay on, lay on MacDuff
And damned be he who first cries, hold, enough!
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