The Grangeville globe. [volume] (Grangeville, Idaho) 1907-1922, 1918-10-03

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Then while the Roman was asleep,
Sly Nick gave one huge flying leap,
At least leap, at any rate,
That launched him over Plutos gate.
Now having gained the world above,
He hastily round began to move;
He wandered here, he travelled there,
In fact he rOamed most everywhere,
To see IL he a babe could find, :
That he might train to suit his mind,
Till finally he picked on one
A low -browed, squalling, infant Hun.
This light-haired brat old Satan took
To train In maxims from his book
Stayed with the cur until 1t grew
To know as much as Satan knew
Then placed him In sumptuous villa
Said: go from hence my friend Atilla,
KILL plumber, pillage, I'll applaud,
You'll be for me the Scourge of God"
This fiend obeyed old Satan's WILL
Went forth to rob, to burn and kill,
And every land DER which he trod,
Was known to 1t as "Scourge of God"
This cruel wretch and f1endish Hun,
Had ravished nations. one by one,
And was about to pillage Rome,
But was persuaded to go home
BY Leo, through whose majesty
He was prevailed to go away,
And leave the Holy City free
From his accurst debauchery-
Which after all Is in his favour
Atilla died and soon he shared
The glory which had been prepared
For him in hell when he should land
Among the mob of bowling damned,
Where true unto his reputation
He did with slightest hesitation;
Which tickled Satan, sly old cuss,
Who roared with laughter at the fuss
That Nero made, when on the square,
Atilla kicked him from the chair.
This devil now of hell took charge,
And so to speak, roamed round at large,
But somehow Nick seemed feeling blue
At things Atilla failed to do
While yet on earth for 1t was plain
That sometimes he had been humane;
SO Nick would curse unlucky fate
That gave this Stacker his estate,
And often thought If he must yield
Unto the soul of man his field,
That soul should be from william who
Could teach him things he never knew,
And one who would beget the hope
That cen with God he dare to cope.
You see that Nick felt he was curst
In not yet having found the worst
OF men, who had been born to earth
Though he had known them all from birth,
And naturally he felt pride
In every BLACKBOARD who had died;
Then IL soul must have his Chair
That soul must with himself compare,
Or him excel, in cruel hate.
Else could not have his chair of state.
One day when Nick was more than blue,
About the course he should pursue
There fell upon the startled air
Devils Chorus near the Chair.
Nick listened. heard, and thought in wonder
Where have heard that sung, By Thunder
He waits, he lOOks-then graspS it all
He must not fiy-he dare not CALL
And while his ears with pain are wrung,
Atilla from his chair is flung,
While impish threats yell forth what tallies
With Deutcher, Deutcher uber Allies,
And true as death-it was no lark,
Upon that Chair sat Prince Bis-Mark.
Ye gods said Nick, now there In one,
Half Prussian Hog the other Hun,
l wonder how, in hell, l mist him?
l surely did forget to list him,
Now he may do, since he has won
His spurs from The Hoehen-zeller-on,
A house from which I've thought would SO
A ruler fit to be my King;
However, we will wait awhile,
And see If he will suit our style.
When Bismark had looked over hell
He was not quite so pleased, they tell;
His anger showed in every glance;
Where are, he yelled, the men of France,
Whom l have slaughtered years ago
Yea, gloried In their women's woe,
And from their breasts their children tore,
Fen dipped my weenies In their gore
Are they not here to beg from ME?
Go find them Sir where e'e they be!
Nick smiled smile, quite woe-begone,
Said Chancellor, there is not one
In all of hell, who could by chance,
Be named as from the soil of France;
So your desires must be fulfilled
BY these damned Huns the French have xii
In that last war your genius planned