The Mudcat Café TM
Thread #2934 Message #1539752
Posted By: Jim Dixon
10-Aug-05 - 07:51 PM
Thread Name: ADD: Poetry by Bret Harte (1836-1902)
Subject: Lyr Add: SOCIETY UPON THE STANISLAUS (Bret Harte)
Copied from http://bartelby.org/102/199.html From Thomas R. Lounsbury, ed. (1838–1915). Yale Book of American Verse. 1912.
THE SOCIETY UPON THE STANISLAUS Francis Bret Harte. 1839–1902
I RESIDE at Table Mountain, and my name is Truthful James; I am not up to small deceit or any sinful games; And I'll tell in simple language what I know about the row That broke up our Society upon the Stanislow.
But first I would remark, that it is not a proper plan For any scientific gent to whale his fellowman, And, if a member don't agree with his peculiar whim, To lay for that same member for to "put a head" on him.
Now nothing could be finer or more beautiful to see Than the first six months' proceedings of that same Society, Till Brown of Calaveras brought a lot of fossil bones That he found within a tunnel near the tenement of Jones.
Then Brown he read a paper, and he reconstructed there, From those same bones, an animal that was extremely rare; And Jones then asked the chair for a suspension of the rules, Till he could prove that those same bones was one of his lost mules.
Then Brown he smiled a bitter smile, and said he was at fault, It seemed he had been trespassing on Jones's family vault; He was a most sarcastic man, this quiet Mr. Brown, And on several occasions he had cleaned out the town.
Now I hold it is not decent for a scientific gent To say another is an ass,—at least, to all intent; Nor should the individual who happens to be meant Reply by heaving rocks at him, to any great extent.
Then Abner Dean of Angel's raised a point of order, when A chunk of old red sandstone took him in the abdomen, And he smiled a kind of sickly smile, and curled up on the floor, And the subsequent proceedings interested him no more.
For, in less time than I write it, every member did engage In a warfare with the remnants of a palæozoic age; And the way they heaved those fossils in their anger was a sin, Till the skull of an old mammoth caved the head of Thompson in.
And this is all I have to say of these improper games, For I live at Table Mountain, and my name is Truthful James; And I've told in simple language what I know about the row That broke up our Society upon the Stanislow.