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Show THE BEE. A FEW THINGS. Was the best. Next the Lackawanna split em twixt the Erie and the road, Owned by him who said the public might be d d, And before they had recovered from this latest stroke of fright The YTest Shore and the Valley took a hand. Each road sent up an agent, to reside there and do biz, Sell tickets, baudle freight and telegraph ; And the efforts each one put forth to find Just east of Buffalo, where the Lehigh Valley train Its whistle sounds across the swampy moor ; Where the Lackawanna engines snort defiance back again, To the Central ; To the Erie And West Shore : Stands a cramped-u- p little village with its chimneys sending smoke Curling upward toward the knickerbocker sky, VTith euphonious designation A the hardy beech ; Their axes made the chips of birchen fly ; They made a start in good shape On the present site of what Today we know as Looneyville, N. Y. They didnt name the place, because you see for names didnt na- know That to letters against the half savage, barbarous, cruel, licentious, murderous hordes sent over from Spain to subjugate and oppress. Yellow Journalism is what the chirrupers, the namby pambys, the sycophantic, call the records sent up by the. reporters of the press. Now these bright, young men, who with their own eyes have witnessed the scenes of suffering ; who have looked upon the ravages of the beasts that have made a charnel house of the island, have violated its daughters, slain its fathers and its sons and put its babies to the sword, generally tell the truth. The American reporter isnt a lying individual although from reading the papers which have no reporters in Cuba one might think so and what he writes is generally truth. Conceding he does exaggerate, what then? If one tithe of what is written is true, it warrants action. Where there is so much smoke there must be some fire. to decay Is established as a scientific fact, children born there, were And the great-granto say the least, someway Lacking, in the Good grey matter Which rules act. They would eat when they were hungry, when they were sleepy, sleep ; Were known at times to drink when they were d But dry; thats about the limit of their little plea- sures, cheap. They had up there in Looneyville, N. Y. They cut their wood in summer to ward off winters chill ; Raised crops of all kinds, also little brats ; Wore homespun clothes and sabots, and sevral diffrent kinds Of fashions In the things Which we call hats. Theyd have lived and died in quiet, slid from earth to kingdom come Undisturbed by act or deed of other men But for something which they could not Evade to save their lives, Advancement, which was coming with a hum. A grasping corporation backed by a venal press, A line of railroad built across the state ; Did it strike the little hamlet? Well, 1 should rather guess (Solar plexus) Painful story To relate. The descendants of the settlers (who long before had passed) Watched the labrers as they laid rails into town Couldnt understand the reason Why with spikes of iron, fast The Jerrys nailed the heavy sleepers down. First the Erie, with its whistles shrieked its way acoss the plain, And the frightened people moved their cabins west; Then the Central built on that side and alarmed them, every one : They decided That the east side laugh. 1 Oh, they may call us jingoes and say we will disturb business, but to hell with business ! Better that a thousand men should lose their fortunes than one maid her honor; better that an army fall on the gory field in defense of living truth than one tiny child die of exposure, as a result of the actions of the inhuman monsters that are riding over poor Cuba. Men who go dowm in battle rise to Heaven in a glow of glory. It isnt a case of patriotism either. Patriotism hasnt anything to do with it. No one has as- sailed our country unless, perchance, the disaster of the Maine was caused by Spanish conniThe weak vance but it is a case of humanity. appeal to the strong. Old men and little children are being starved and murdered ; youth and innocence are sacrificed to lust. How long, oh how long before we are to be turned loose? Because as the days go by and the news comes from stricken Cuba, more and more intense becomes the desire to go down there and relieve the sufferings of the brave people, who have struggled to achieve liberty these long, long years, Or to papers Theyd give heed. There they grew and thrived and flourished for a score of years or more Maines daughter wedded Massachusetts son And also vice versa (Two syllables in vice ) And kept it going ad infinitum. That too close a blend in blood causes nature How long, oh L how long? How long are we to sit quiet while the cry of violated virtue rings in our ears? How long shall we passively listen to the wrails of stricken infants? How long, oh how long shall appealing hands be stretched to ! . us in vain? The powers that be talk of international comities and all that sort of thing, but who thinks of the law which punishes man for murder when he strikes down the ravisher of his sister? We, a presumably civilized and enlightened people, a people supposed to have Heavenly compassion in our hearts, have remained quiet through the awful years and looked on approvingly while rapine, murder and enforced starvation flourished right under our very noses. The long faced, and the round faced too for that matter, have stood up in the sanctuaries and have commented freely because the English nation permitted the Turk to oppress and pillage Armenia, and we have resoluted and resolved and prayed and petitioned, while right at our threshold atrocities of equal horror have been committed. What a paltry, trifling lot of hypocrites we are to be sure. How we have shut our eye to the beam which blinded it while we groped for the mote in the optics of our British cousins ! Some of us have urged action, but what reward did we receive? Nothing except a kind bit of attention from some editor who devoted some half column ofjspace to designate us sap-heade- as bowling jingoes, d ! houses permit us to say to each other, Come, let How long before Columbia, with her us go! mighty heart throbbing, will say to the men, Here; here is the sword ; take it and go. Strike How long shall we have to wait hard and sure. ere wives and sweethearts say to husbands and Stay ye not, but pursue after your lovers, enemies and smite them; suffer them not to enter into their cities, for the Lord, our God, How hath delivered them into your hands. long, oh ! how long shall the drum be still and the trumpet stay from sounding the thrilling charge? How long, oh how long ere the sun glints on rifle barrels and the shells scream across the sky? But today as one rides by there, no matter what the line As oer the shining rails you fairly fly; When you look out of the window Of the richly furnished coach The sign you see is Looneyville, N. Y. One sees aged men and women, young maids and half grown boys All running, as for life, back from the track, And by looking back an instant, one can note another train On the Erie Or the Central Chase them back. For, with all the years thats passed by with whistle shriek and bell, The natives dread to see a train pass by For theyre crazy as a bed bug, are scared as bad as well It breakes them up at Looneyville, X. Y. d tion how long are we going to permit this thing to go on? How soon will the czar of the White House and the czars of the other How long, oh where he was at Would have raised In some localities (Not by any means a joke) The little town of Looneyville, N. Y. It was founded long ago, so a white-haireman told roe. (Ere his eyes saw light some eighty years before) a By man from Massachusetts and another one from Maine, WTith their women And their children. (Kids galore) They chopped down lusty peprage and felled They really didnt have a pressing need ; For no letters ever reached them and the 5 Thats a good cause of action. Lets go. Sound the shrill bugles and lets hear the tramp, tramp, tramp of marching feet. Lets hear the scream of the eagle once more before we get to that condition so aptly described by Moore : Thus freedom now so seldom wakes The only sign she gives, Is when some heart, indignant, breaks, Beat the drums. i To show that she still lives. Lets hear the sounds of the guns and the rattle of the muskets. Lets see the sun glint on the sabres of the cavalry. Lets see Old Glory waving at the head of the column again and hear the lusty cheer go ringing down the line. Lets see men fall in death and hear the thick sobs of the stricken ones as they sink to rise no more. For, when the smoke shall clear away and the blessed sunshine lights up the place where the murderous Latin and the gallant Saxon grappled in mortal strife, the beams will fall in a halo of glory ; an approving Heaven will smile a benediction on the dead who fell in order that peace, gentle peace, might reign in the homes of the humble and distressed. How long, oh, how long? Watchman on the walls of the Nation, tell, oh tell us of the night. What signs are there in the heavens? Are we going to continue waiting while we live in shame, or shall some of us die in glory? How long, oh, how long ere we shall say to Cuba : Come rest in this bosom my own stricken deer Though the herd it hath left thee, thy heme i is here. Thou hast called me thine angel, in moments of bliss, Ill be in the horror of this ; the furnace Through unshrinking, thy steps to pursue. And save thee and guard thee, or perish there too. And thine angel Am ABA LA. |