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Show A RUBAIYAT OF FORD STEVENS. From far away in yon gray misty East Comes Mister Bubble rising like the Yeast, He says I am an Undiscovered Star, I've come to spread a Comic opera feast. And eagerly we help the Grafter lay A line of Pipe, and then we dig and pay To see what he will hand Us and at best 'Tis but a Poppy perfumed Roundelay. A gushing Stream of Molten Atmosphere, An opium Vision framed up in the rear Of some Celestial den beyond the pale Of coppers and of Club inspired fear. The history of the grafter and his graft Is but a Repetition, we have quaffed A. loving Cup with him, then he has gone To greener fields where he has Laft and Laft. And he will come again, as smooth as Silk A"nd pull the Wool like others of his ilk, And when he goes, the Suckers who have paid Will wonder why they didn't nab the Bilk. How many, say, how many Summer times Will you dig up your dollars and your Dimes To hear some Guinea peddle out hot air, And con you with some comic opera rhymes? The moral of this tale is only this: The people living 'round about don't miss The coin if rank Outsiders get It all. Their hatred is for those at home, 1 wis. Tod Goodwin. |
