The Saint Paul globe. (St. Paul, Minn.) 1896-1905, 1900-07-30

To every jay like me about.
B'gosh, jest riz up right there,
An stood up on that blamed OF chair .
An swung my hat and stomped an
cheered,
Until bout nothin' could be heared
But 5at me; And aeI1t Manda gave a yank
But Mr.. Bryan says, says he:
Jest let the honest farmer be,
An let him cheer. He knows. no doubt,
The farmers troubles jest about
AS well as any man that's here
So jest you let him stomp an cheer
He knows what this here gold has done,
An he'll vote for sixteen to oner
.'B'gosh when we got home, says
, 10 Mandy, sorter speedily:
NThe time has come when this blamed Jay
Has got to quit jest raising hay
An go to learnfn' politics.
Says L: We're in an awful fix,
These plutocrats is swallowin'
In gold an we poor jays must scratch
An skimp, an stint an save an patch
To feed this here gold standard beast
An let the plutocrats all feast
When things is come to such a pass
It's high time there was something done.
I'm out for this sixteen to one!
"An' Mandy sorter sneered. Says she:
You let this here gold standard be,
An don't you get to rantin here
An thinkin' you're an orateer,
An an }nmpplin up and b Jasr1p f roH g.
Jes' grab that saw and bacon rind
An try Il they don't ease your mind.
An when you've sawed some kitchen
wood,
Go hunt that speckled chickens brood.
See that the cows are MIXED an fed;
The cart put In the wagon shed.
An take the swill out to the hogs,
An groom the horse an feed the dogs.
An grind them butcher knives O. mine,
An put that fresh pork in the brine.
An empty out those suds, an tie
och hn 1fVo 70 dv-ry
An git some garden truck for sass
An turn old Dobbin out to grass.
Benjamin, when those tasks is done,
You'll find they're nigh sixteen for one,
This politics, says she, IS bosh.'
An I jest started, I did, b'gosh.
.'wen, me an Mandy split right there,
I said 1t was my lot and share
70 help 'lect Bryan For, says 1,
It's only right that I should try
To rnuzzle these blamed plutocrats-
The everlastin' thievin' rats,
An save the farmer fore he's broke
Beneath this here gold standard yokel'
Then Mandy says, says she: Look here,
We've farmed it now for twenty year
We've allus had our fill O. grub.
An though we've had real tight rub
Sometimes to make ends meet. we've got
"A middlin' farm, a house an lot,
"a cellar full of meat an Sich,
An though we can't be counted rich
We're eatin' hearty every day;
An while We work there amt no way
II
Do something to earn what they've got
But twas no use, for when I'm sot
I'm softer than a freckle spot
We had some cash an, | took that
An gave the farm to Mandy fat,
She cried a little, but staid firm.
B'gosh it made me sorter squ1rm
To leave her. But I hated worse
To see the blamed gold standard curse
A CROWN viler every day.
felt as though I couldn't stay.
An so I went to 'lectioneer
For Bryan, as an orateer.
b gosh made the dragon squirm
And sizzle for a slightly term.
I took my share of hard old knocks.
Now speal1in' from dry goods box.
Now in stuffy, little hall
Without no local aid at all.
But say! I pulled the dragons tail
And made the plutocrats turn pale.
I told the boys to up and arm
From every house and every farm,
With Bryan ballots, pile EN- on,
And bury gold, sixteen to one.
L screeched out half vocal chord
An stamped an howled an fumed an
roared
Till all the boys they cheered and cheered
The noisiest you ever heerd.
AN on election day. says I,
'B'gosh the dragons fur'll fly.
He's wronged an robbed an stolen an
sinned,
But now, b'gosh, I've got him skinned
well, you know how it was yourself,
They laid poor Bryan on the shelf
Mckinley was the PRESIDENT
My cash was jest about all spent,
The plutocratS all seemed to thrive;
The drafted dragon still alive,
B gosh I wasn't half so brash,
I counted up my little cash,
An says 1. Ben, you've lost your farm,
Not done a cussed bit of harm
TO that gold standard. You're a chump,
An up an awful hollow stump.
didn't dare go home. b'gosh.
Altered that Mandy d laugh and josh.
stuck her out for nigh year,
An then I made a slightly steer
For the old farm. / snooped about,
A watchin' Mandy in an out.
She sold smart account of wheat,
Her farmin' couldn't well be beat.
The house was painted fresh an white,
An all looked spick an span an bright
An mellow in the settin' sun.
Bgosh, that air sixteen to one
Just clean forsook my mind. My eyes
Was fearful, an heaved SIGH signs.
'Bgosh,' says I. No plutocrat
On earth owns SIGH q farm as that
An then, b'gosh, I stood an cried,
An Mandy, lookin' rOun' her spied
Me standin', weepin' in the road.
Like lightnin' she run out and throwed
Both arms about my neck, an then:
You dear old, lost old. foolish Benz
We went inside, an SIGH a feast!
No dragon or no other beast
Has ever ate SIGH grub. At night,
The bed so clean, an pure an white!
| B'gosh when I crawled into that
Says 1, Ben, you're a plutocrat?
81 see. b'gosh." said Uncle Ben.
A Vaughn of his jinglin' jaw
Expoundin' his fdees of law.
An Mandy says, so cunnin like.
An drive to town tonight?' Says I,
is Bryan goin' to speechify?'
She nodded, shakin' like, with fun.
Saws I, Not by-sixteen to one A"
in ri TFihIfnA