The San Francisco call. [volume] (San Francisco [Calif.]) 1895-1913, 1899-01-16

and poetical intoxicated and thunderous, wan
dered into the City Prison. He gave his name
as Poe-'first name Bill T. Sherman" and
his references to the bird of his Cousin
Ed have inspired the following story of the
| odd incidentl:
| Once upon late watch nodding, as
heard the keepers ''codding" one an
other on the "hobos" they had Gagged the
night before. Suddenly there came a
humping, loud banging and a humping,
like "a battle-ship a-dumping ten-inch
shells against the door-smashing showers
of mighty ten-inch shells against the
door.
Though twas hot as mid-september.
every single burly member of the force
shook as he never shook before. The
"key-cop'' started quaking, all his blood
within him caking, with q wavy motion
making for that changing iron door
with a queer, uncertain motion for that
trembling iron door.
All, distinctly 1 was feeling as I heard
that awful peeling, hot and cold and chill
and fever clear into my bosom core. DO
they" 1 began TO wonder, "often have
these scenes of thunder loud enough to
rip asunder this whole place from roof to
fioor-rip the whole shebang from roof
clean down to concrete floor?
Sure" l thought, this is some fellow
|, full of brown-brew come to below
through the prison for the chum they
locked up several hours before; or some
coin-depleted jamie the sad player of a
game he had tackled with dame he
trusted till she rolled him DER and Ger
one he met and loved and trusted till she
rolled him Ger and Ger.
"Or some rounder at the wicket drunk
and swearing that he'd kick it to the mid
die Of next summer If they didn't fly
that door; or some bank cashier DETECTED
from the right and then detected, just
about to be dissected by the men he'd
plundered Of their store-by the victims
he had plundered of their hard-earned
golden store
'Or some new official fleeing through the
gloomy midnight being hot pursued by
voters he had promised jobs galore or
some warrish jaggy lady who had
chased out from the shady south-of-Mar-
ket-street and made a Decline to the jail
in search of gore-to the Jail in a search
of some policeman's blue red gore"
Then they flung ajar the portal and
wintry looking mortal, roaring and indig-
nant waited through the open door. At
this bowling visitation filed with storm
and thunderation, every "peeler" in the
station left his seat and hit the floor
hoisted from his cushioned, easy chair
and struck the floor.
Twas a weather-beaten rover Of the
billow half-seas over, and many seas oft
under drifting to'rd the lookup door
not so beaten by the weather as by fate
and grog together, two dread foes of
Jacky. whether wrecked awave or tossed
ashore-whether wrecked awave or tenn
pest tossed along the shore.
Oh, he was an exhalation of fervent
fermentation, ewith a starboard eye in
mourning and his headpiece battered DER;
his slack standing gear was dragging in
his wake, thei was a bagging and a
'down-to-leeward" :. E%ing of the tat
tered togs he wore-of the one-time blue
and white apparel that he wore.
Long there's been a separation, Jack,
from any reputation you might have
had I muttered, "in your tender days of
yore. Rudderless and lost of bearing
too far gone now for repairing, or for
'coming-to' or wearing in you blow hard
on the shore-without compass, without
bearing in you blow hard on the shore"
,..'Vot's y'r name and age and station,
height and color, build and nation, and
wy the divil are we here Arranging on
me door? Can't we find a board to sleep
on or a vacant lot to keep on, have we
got a gun or 'weepon? and I'll have
none of y'r dommed roar-in me prisince,"
quoth the captain, 'Ill have none of y'r
dommed roar.
will fit so bad penny, and it's the one
we gave last time and many times before.
Tell me, John, are We sailor, seafar-
ing man or whaler; were We blowed up
In gale or did We leave the sea and
walk ashore-did We jump overheard at
sea and tramp 1t to the blessed shore?"
"Avast, Delay. go bend stopper on
your jaw gear, my fine copper my name
is known in cleaner places heretofore.
'Doe'-be damned-it's Poe. Hear, man,
nv front names Bill T. Sherman, heir
presumptive, cousin-german to a bird
called 'Nevermore' - bird my knsman
Edgar Allan caught and labeled Never
more
I'm fact, I'm that bird, my joker; the
identical old croaker that once sat roost-
ing like a buzzard up above his bedroom
door We were bosom comrades ever
(but that old tale never care to telD-we
chaps together loved the girl known as
'Lenore' But found he was more solid
with the girl known as Ienore
'I flew to sea, crazy lover; soon my
mates were cranky over my bad case.
The bloke's got wheels and off his base
they swore. What did that internal crew
do? Just what men whose brains are few
do. Said / was a proper hoodoo. Sank
me in the sea forevermore-chuckedm me in
the sea with Denis as my name forever
more.
Down in Davy Jones haven for dead
sailors, to a raven l was changed and
I'm a blooming bird forevermore. So 1
through the night go flying when the
ghostly winds are signing. like a spook
a banshee crying out my title, 'Evermore
"a night hawk in the darkness croaking,
croaking 'evermore'
That's my ocean TRANSPORTATION and
my submarine translation-a Jonah on
the water and a hoodoo on the shore So
whether I'm a sailor, a seafaring man or
whaler, or a chap blown up in a gale or
walked to land, 1 am tough one ever
more-mortal or immortal, I'm tough
one evermore"
Then that raven soon was hitting the
midnight road-soon was fitting down
the rainy, cherries avenue once more.
For the captain stole up to him. swearing,
bird or ghost, he'd do" him-grabbed
him by the neck and threw him from that
open iron door.
The cops said they smelt sulphur as he
shot out through the door.
TOM GREGORY.
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VIZ