The Aberdeen weekly. [volume] (Aberdeen, Miss.) 1878-1933, 1908-12-18
The Fisherman and his Brown Jug.
A PARODY.

The following written the present editor
IF The Weekly when he boy. They intended
parody of Byrons Apostrophe to the Ocean As boy the
writer had apologies to offer for his venture In his
he finds fault with the moral points The
on comprehends thing the life of to-dav
The picture is ovedrawn but the lights and
shades a fidelity words please
bOyish fancy and to point a tale.
That the world
day and thereby hangs the occasion for the pub
icatiOn of these lines.
There $ pleasure n painless woods,''
There mosquitoes lonely shore,
There is fisherman, where ntrudes''
With his brown jug, and fishing traps galore.
He loves fish the less, but tries the
From his dear, trusting wife, day to steal
Which oft he will do, and has done before.
To mingle with the dear brown jug, and feel
What he will meier confess yet cannot well conceal
Through him, feels brown jugs roll;
Ten thousand gnats creep him in vain;
They drink his blood with ruin-their control
Stops with the dreught-on the watery plain
Their gnatshps all drunk doth remain
A gnat among them-no, onei
''For a moment like a drop of rain,
They mingle with the wave-their race is run!
Without song, they sink unconscious and undone.
A tick is now upon his nose-its lip
VIII prove balm to hint doth arise
And creepeth DER limits great strength of grip,
Spent self sustanment do all despise;
But, searching his cheekbone, there it lies
kisseth him. scramblng in its playful way
And nesting to him close, it madly tries
His whiskied blood through it's veins convey,
Then falls drunken tick to earth-''there it lay
The dear old lug which thunderstruck ne brain
OF this lone angler made his footsteps shake
trembe their throne again
DespOtic MASTER whose hid spells make
mortal the base title take
thee, and mpotent war;
8 thy toy, whose thrstings thou dost slake
hold within thy magic spells, which
Alike the anglers art and spoil his looks by far
Thy draughts direful, fraught with ribald glee
Contentment mrth, sport, drunkness-these they
Thy brought this angler while he free
and many a headache since; he will obey
Thy magic spells and power, and will say
No small word to thy injury:-sO hast thou
Indeed transformed thy wild strange way,
And writ thy thradom his wTinked brow
Such thy made him, o. behold him
And he loved thee, brown jug! and his JOY
sport at thy mouth to be.
thy bubbles from boy
He wantoned with thy contents-they, you
a delight; and if the freshening tea
MADE them terror-'twas pleasing fear,
he was, as it were. child of thee"
nd wooing thy caresses deemed them dear
Andp pressed his lips upon thy mouth as he did here
The work done-the jug is drained-its stream
Has passed his being is fit
A spell should bind him II distorted dream
The Jug shall be demolished which hath smt
lis thirstng sou-and what is left of it
Would frangible!-but it is not
hat which it has been and its pleasures fit
Less palpably before him. for the flow
Which jugshp dwelt has laid the angler low.
Dead a thing that will be and hath been,
A vice points all drunkards' souls to hell
Ye who felt this drmkness, or have
others felt, IF in your memories dweli'
A pang which yours, IF swell
A single recollection then no blame
Nav rest upon my pen this tale to tell;
Dead drunk! with him alone may rest the shame,
If there be-with you, shun drnnkard's