rRKSKXTKD TO THK 
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CflLIFORNIfl 
 
 \'.Y 
 
 C. p. HUNTINGTON 
 
 clUNE, 1897. 
 
 flccession No. 70 3 J^ Class No, 
 
 3. 
 

 •»j;* A X 1) 
 
 \IISCELLANEOUS POEMS, 
 
 T3 Y 
 
 MART TAYLOR. 
 
 OF TH15 
 
 riVERSITY 
 
 IvANCISCO : 
 
 'J 
 
H.. 
 
I^OCAL. L.YRICS, 
 
 AND 
 
 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS, 
 
 BY 
 
 MART TAYLOR. 
 
 i 
 
 SAN FRANCISCO : 
 
 PUBLISHES BT HUTCHINaS i KOSENFIELD, MONTOOHERT STBEET. 
 
 1858. 
 
 7?^. 
 
w 
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the vear 1858, 
 
 BY MART TAYLOR, 
 
 In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States 
 for the Nothern District of California. 
 
TO 
 
 Messrs. J. A. Mordo and J. E. Johnson, Managers of the justly- 
 celebrated Troupe " The Pensylvanians " this little volume is respectfully 
 inscribed bj iheir friend the author. 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 Custom makes it the duty of every one venturing upon the ocean of litera- 
 ture in a bark of his own manufacture, to explain to the public his private 
 reasons for pursuing the rash and dangerous course. My only inducements 
 are these : The Local Lyrics contained in this little volume, although sung 
 by myself at the Melodeon and Lyceum in San Francisco, as well as to the 
 only tune I ever knew, and in a style I have never heard recommended, have, 
 npon every occasion, been received with marked favor by the large and re- 
 spectable audiences who have from time to time patronized those establish- 
 ments. 
 
 Knowing that music or melody had nothing whatever to do with their favor- 
 able reception, I very naturally came to the conclusion that the Lyrics alone 
 were all that were wanted, and therefore, in compliance with the solicitations 
 of many who have heard them, I have published a few selections from the 
 same, together with a number of miscellaneous pieces, which, to make my book 
 larger, I have inserted, at the risk of making it worse. 
 
'% 
 
 MI§eEiLANE©MS PQimi 
 
 AND 
 
 BY MART TAYLOR. 
 
 Mintn? L.ife ia rorty-nlne. 
 
 Are you a miner ? reader if you are, 
 
 Lay not my book aside, but read with care ; 
 Whatever it contains for it is true, 
 
 If you're a miner it will speak of you ; 
 But are you not a man who digs for gold, 
 
 Still I would urge you with assurance bold, 
 To read my poem fur I hope to show 
 
 A fund of funny facts you ought to know. 
 'Tis here I set my stakes and notice post, 
 
 Now do not think that I intend to boast, 
 I'll only claim my just allotted ground, 
 
 And if I work it fault cannot be found ; 
 But if I fail in my attempt to bring 
 
 A ♦* decent color " as I onward sing. 
 Bid me " dry up," I'll bear deserved blame 
 
 And any miner then may "jump my claim." 
 Now poeo tempo I intend to show, 
 
 Just how the miner lives, that all may know 
 His joys, his sorrows and his trials grt^at 
 
 Through which he's guided by his fickle fate. 
 Mine will not be a yarn of airy schemes, 
 
 Or the rehearsal of romantic dreams. 
 But with the truth and candor of a saint, 
 
 A perfect picture I'll attempt to paint; 
 And as a miner of his claim would say, 
 
 Ido eincer'-ly *'hope" to make it pay. 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 
 
 Hope — 'tis the magic of the miners toil ; 
 
 Hope turns our rivers and upturns our soil ; 
 Hope is a monarch that must be obeyed ; 
 
 Hope — the propeller of the pick and spade; 
 Hope is the miners constant guiding star 
 
 That lured him hither from his home afar; 
 And hope stands by him yes, he clings to hope, 
 
 As would a drowning sailor to a rope. ^ 
 
 I've got the " dead-wood " on attention now, 
 
 So brother miners I will make my bow, 
 Commence my labors or begin my lays, 
 
 And make a book for you, forme a raise. 
 Please follow me ^ith eagerness of soul 
 
 While I jump down a deep " coyote hole." 
 To reach the bed-rock many days were spent 
 
 Removing boulders, picking through cement. 
 Till here we are " as sure as dad loves eels," 
 
 Fast in the mud above our " gum boot heels." 
 Give me a pan, I'll see how much it pays, 
 
 Confound the luck, I can't the color raise; 
 Smart chance for bed rock stranger, tell us pray. 
 
 Now don't it look as though it ought to pay ? 
 " Well this is rather dull," says Georgia Dan, 
 
 '* But one can't tell by washing with a pan." 
 "There may be something in it yet," says Bub, 
 
 " You bet your life the claim will pay us grub." 
 Another pan and still another tried, 
 
 Now they've prospected it on every side. 
 And there's the claim they broke themselves and bought. 
 
 Which with their labor has but come to naught. 
 What shall we do, says one, I'd like to know, 
 
 This claim I reckoned as our only show. 
 I've had no luck says one in all my lite, 
 
 I cannot raise a dollar for my wife ; 
 And every time she's written me, I've been 
 
 Assured that she is destitute of tin, 
 Another says " come partners don't complain. 
 
 Perhaps the next time we may strike a vein, 
 And if we once get on the lead awhile, 
 
AND LOCAL LYRICS. 7 
 
 We've got the dead wood on a bully pile." 
 This was their consolation, this has been 
 
 The consolation of " a world of men." 
 Indulgent readers let me have your eyes, 
 
 I'll place them on more startling mysteries, 
 I'll take them from you without causing pain, 
 
 And in due season give them back again. 
 'Twill be my eflfort in these little lines. 
 
 To paint a perfect picture of the mines ; 
 Prepare to follow me, unknown, unseen, 
 
 Along the banks of this late found ravine ; 
 And as we plod along lets' notice all 
 
 That may within our visual angle fall. 
 Let's peep into this cabin, who is there? 
 
 A rusty looking man with long black hair. 
 With huge moustach that covers both his lips, 
 
 And to his mouth affords a dark eclipse ; 
 He sits in silent meditation now, 
 
 A shocking shade has settled on his brow ; 
 Let us observe him, likely time will show, 
 
 The real cause of his apparent woe. 
 See it appears at last his fancy's scope, $ 
 
 Has quite inspired him with a gleam of hope ; 
 He springs from his rude seat that has no back. 
 
 And firmly fastens on a flour sack 
 He shuts his cabin door, pulls in the latch. 
 
 Seizes his bowie-knife and cuts a patch, 
 Pulls off bis pants and plies some horrid stitches 
 
 And quite relieved declares, *• I've fixed those breeches." 
 Let's pass along for we will wish to stop 
 
 A little while at yonder trading shop — 
 Tis built of logs, the ground its only floor, 
 
 A bit of canvas only for the door, 
 Around the building hanging up on pegs 
 
 Or scattered over tables, minus legs, 
 A motely mass from cradles to a spade 
 
 Compose the merchant's wondrous stock in trade, 
 And o'er the room, that all may take good heed, 
 
 Are hieroglyphics, which, if we can read, ^.-5--==-,^ 
 
 ^^^'^Tb R A /I'y'^^^^ 
 
 ^ OF THK ^ 
 
 f TT-KTTTT'p-RCiTTV : 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 
 
 Will tell us all that's in the miner's store 
 
 Which, if not blind, we must have seen before — 
 There is a maraoioth notice, see : *' No Trust," 
 
 And there another : " Highest Price for Dust," 
 And there's a fancy card which reads, I think, 
 
 " The best of Liquors, but ' two bits' a drink." 
 The day is Sunday, but left in the lurch 
 
 Is Bible, prayer book, minister and church 
 By those assembled here, who think the day 
 
 Was given them to pass in any way ; 
 Down in one corner seated upon bags 
 
 Are men well dressed, with others quite in rags, 
 All, quite forgetful that 'tis Sabbath day, 
 
 With dingy cards are quite intent at play — 
 The room is filled with men of many a hue. 
 
 White, black, brown, red and some are getting blue, 
 And there's a boisterous boy about fifteen, 
 
 Who loudly laughs at one he swears is green. 
 What means this oath that takes us so aback? 
 
 'Tis nothing only one has *' lost his jack." 
 " I played the ace," says one, " The deuce you did," 
 
 " Well, here it is, it cannot well be hid," 
 *' Then I am beat again, confound the luck, 
 
 Bring on the whisky, 'bar keep,' I am stuck." 
 Kind reader let's together pass along 
 
 And leave behind us this excited throng. 
 This is a day, 'tis said, that God has blest 
 
 And ^iven to us for a day of rest — 
 A few observe it with religious care. 
 
 But many spend it as you see them there. 
 Is he " prospecting?" No I I see no dirt. 
 
 Save what he wrings from that old flannel e^iirt ; 
 Sunday is washing day, that pool his tub, 
 
 And there's a " stack of clothes " he has to rub. 
 Upon this day are sharpened all the picks- 
 Each thing ihe miner cannot stop to fix 
 Within the week, is left for Sunday, and 
 
 He turns attention to it and his hand. 
 Sunday, the busy day in miner's life, 
 
AND LOCAL LYRICS. 
 
 He frames excuses to his anxious wife 
 Or writes apologies to his sweetheart, 
 
 With whom he promised not so lon^ to part — 
 Pours out his soul in strains of earnest love, 
 
 Tells her he prizes her tar, far above 
 The golden ore that all around him lies. 
 
 That soon he hopes to see her with his eyes, 
 That he intends to stop a Utile while 
 
 And make, if possible, a " bully pile," 
 Throws in his love to all inquiring friends 
 
 And signs his name, and thus the letter ends, 
 And he's a happy man, his mind's relieved, 
 
 If he expects the half will be believed. 
 And such is mining life, and those who toil 
 
 And risk tht-ir time on this our golden soil 
 Encounter dangers mightier by far 
 
 Than those of famine, pestilence and war. 
 God bless the miner, is my humble prayer, 
 
 And generous Heaven enable him, to bear 
 The many trials that must be endured 
 
 By all who are by hope of gain allured. 
 To risk alike their fortunes and their health 
 
 In their ambitious struggle after wealth. 
 Alas ! dear friends, and must the truth be told, 
 
 That hundreds, in their anxious search for gold. 
 To bitter hardships have been willing slaves 
 
 And been rewarded by untimely graves. 
 Of all professions in our golden land. 
 
 First in the rank we see the miner stand — 
 That noble soul, who seeks by honest toil 
 
 To win his fortune, even from the soil. 
 Let politicians poll their wires and prate 
 
 Of their wise methoils to enrich the State, 
 Let judges keep their benches, lawyers plead, 
 
 And priests and parsons tell us what we need, 
 Let honest miners, who are toiling here, 
 
 Suspend their labors even for a year, 
 And though our State is wealthy now and strong, 
 
 Our £1 Daradj would but live in song. 
 
MISCELANEOUS POEMS 
 
 You see, dear friends, how much depends onyou- 
 
 How necessary 'tis you should be true; 
 In your endeavors, for you have command 
 
 Of every enterprise in this y(»ur land ; 
 Be honest then, and in your dealing fair. 
 
 Preserve your dignity with jealous care. 
 Though ficle fate may thwart your every plan, 
 
 Yet each of you should prove himself a man. 
 
 All for Money. 
 
 What a funny world is ours ! 
 
 Very funny — 
 Full of sunshine, full of showers, 
 
 Full of money — 
 But the last is hard to get : 
 
 What a pity ! 
 Many are in want of it. 
 
 In the city, 
 In the village, in the town, 
 Men are wandering up and down 
 Through the valleys, o'er the hills, 
 Selling notions, vending pills — 
 And his land the farmer tills — 
 
 All for money : 
 
 That is funny. 
 
 What a funny world is ours ! 
 
 Yery funny — 
 Full of thorns and full of flowers, 
 
 Full of money — 
 Magic money ! passing strange 
 
 Is thy po wer — 
 Mortals change about for change 
 
 Every hour : 
 Editors and printers toil. 
 Authors burn the midnight oil, 
 Plowboys leave their plows to teach, 
 
AND LOCAL LYRICS. 11 
 
 Dandies try to pray and preach, 
 Misers strive to overreach — 
 
 All for money : 
 
 That is funny. 
 
 What a funny world is ours ! 
 
 Very funny — 
 Full of sweets and full of sours, 
 
 Full of money — 
 For it people toil and slave, 
 
 Striving ever — 
 From the cradle to the grave — ' 
 
 Ceasing never : 
 Priests and cobblers take their tolls, 
 Blessing, patching up our souls. 
 Measures millers fail to fill. 
 Doctors try to cure or kill. 
 Tailors bring a wicked bill — 
 
 All for money : 
 
 That is funny. 
 
 What a funny world is ours I 
 
 Very funny — 
 Full of cabins, full of towers. 
 
 Full of money — 
 Bridges made to get to heaven. 
 
 Some are rotten — 
 The camel and the needle's eye 
 
 Are soon forgotten — 
 Concert singers go around 
 Murdering all harmonious sound, 
 Politicians speeches make. 
 Burglars heads and houses break, 
 Men will all advantage take — 
 
 All for money : 
 
 That is funny. 
 
 What a funny world is this 1 
 Very funny — 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 
 
 Full of misery, Ml of bliss, 
 
 Full of money, 
 Through life on golden wings men trust 
 
 To be carried, 
 And at last in golden dust 
 
 To be buried : 
 Actors will, upon my word, 
 Doubly murder Richard Third, 
 Landlords will the hungry feed. 
 Surgeons amputate and bleed, 
 Mormons preach a wretched creed, 
 Miners try to strike a lead, 
 Euffians do a bloody deed, 
 Lovers, lawyers, lie and plead — 
 
 All for money : 
 
 That is funny. 
 
 Tlie Brokc'n Miner *s l^oliloquy* 
 
 A'miner in his cabin sat 
 
 Alone one frosty night. 
 Plying his needle on his clothes 
 
 Which were in piteous plight ; 
 While holding garments in his hands. 
 
 With holes in, long and wide. 
 What wonder that he stopped his work 
 
 And turned aside, and sighed. 
 
 He had been here since forty-nine, 
 
 But had been unfortunate ; 
 Twas grating to his soul to think 
 
 His troubles had been great ; 
 He'd had his pick in many claims 
 
 But picked out little gold. 
 And now he was completely " strapped, ^^ 
 
 And weather " strapping '^ cold. 
 
AND LOCAL LYRICS. 13 
 
 Since he had not a single dime 
 
 It caused hira double pain — 
 The reigning wish within his heart 
 
 Was a desire for rain. 
 Long time he had been out of *' grub/' 
 
 Or nearly so, at least, 
 He couldn't raise a sack of flour, 
 
 Although he had some yeast. 
 
 As he had no amusement now, 
 
 Save musing o'er his fate, 
 He straightway straightened out and took 
 
 A drink of " brandy straight." 
 He drops his work while tear-drops stand 
 
 And glisten in his eyes, 
 We hear him break his solitude, 
 
 And thus soliloquize : 
 
 " I've reached a wretched crisis sure, 
 
 No surety have I 
 But that I left my Peggy dear, 
 
 To ' peg out ' here and die. 
 I'm out of ' grub,^ I'm out of wood ; 
 
 And one would well suppose, 
 Supposing he observed me close, 
 
 That I was out of clothes. 
 
 " I've said to Gross, the grocer, that 
 
 I trusted he would trust 
 But ah I he durst not deal with me 
 
 Unless I had the dust ; 
 And mad am I, with Madam J, 
 
 Who once got very mad 
 And badly scared because she learned 
 
 I hadn't got a ' scad.' 
 
 " I've led a toiling life until 
 My hands are hard as lead, 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 
 
 Thougli daily bred to work I don't 
 
 Work out my daily bread ; 
 I cannot knead a loaf of bread, 
 
 Though bread I really need, 
 And though I lead a laboring life, 
 
 I labor on no ' lead.' 
 
 " No bolder hearted man than I 
 
 Has e'er a boulder moved, 
 And though I have improved my time 
 
 By time I'm not improved. 
 IVc staked off claims, done heavy work. 
 
 Met many a heavy ' dun,' 
 Run ' cuts ' in claims when it were best 
 
 That I should ' cut and run.' 
 
 '' When creditors came round with bills 
 
 To get them ' squared ' I'd say 
 I've poor grounds for paying when 
 
 My grounds so poorly pay. 
 To work my ' incline ' longer now 
 
 No longer I'm inclined. 
 And I've a mind to leave the spot 
 
 * So spotted ' where I've mined. 
 
 I've oft sent word to Peggy that 
 
 I hadn't made a cent. 
 And she contends for all of that. 
 
 That with me she's content ; 
 So back to Peggy I will go. 
 
 Although I have to beg. 
 And if I'm begged to leave again, 
 
 I will not stir a ' peg.' " 
 
AND LOCAL LYRICS. * fjj^.^'i^^ 
 The ConTentloii of Fislies. \^'' (.,; -or<\ 
 
 " *Twas once on a time '' that a number of fishes, 
 
 Put their names to a call expressing their wishes, 
 
 That all might assemble where none could molest, ^ 
 
 But each his opinion could tell to the rest ; 
 
 So the fishes of every description and name — 
 
 The ** big fish " and " small fry " respectively came ; 
 
 And when a respectable number were there, 
 
 The whale was respectfully tendered the chair. 
 
 He opened the meeting by saying that he 
 
 Would try and no longer than possible be. 
 
 " That's a curious speech " said the sword-fish, " I vow, 
 
 He could hardly be longer, he's eighty feet now/' ^ 
 
 His whaleship declared it in very bad taste, 
 
 That his " oil should be burned and his bones go to waste ; " 
 
 And he furthermore stated he thought it unfair 
 
 That the fishes should try to " make light of him there ; " 
 
 And he blubbered to think that a fish of such pride. 
 
 Should be always cut up and exceedingly tried. 
 
 The porpoise arose and replied to the whale, 
 
 And stated that he had been moved by his tale. 
 
 But he said that the whale and the shark might be vain ; 
 
 That they both have " fine openings " is certainly plain. 
 
 Says thc'shark '^ I have never made any parade, 
 
 I'm only a poor scaly dentist by trade, 
 
 But my duty should be, to be on the alert 
 
 And show to mankind I have teeth toinsert.^^ 
 
 Says the shark ** the old whale is a lawyer no doubt — 
 
 The porpoise a preacher and both of them sp(mt. 
 
 And though Jonah the prophet in his whale-ship once went, 
 
 The whale had not profited by the event. 
 
 The cod-fish, like some in our cities now-a-days, 
 
 By a vain worded speech began seeking for praise : 
 
 He said that no one could declare him a fool, 
 
 For the most of his time had been spent in a school, 
 
 That the world all admired him, he knew by this sign, 
 
 That to him mankind had dropped many a line; 
 
16 'miscellaneous poems 
 
 He tliouglit that the cod-fish were better than whales, 
 
 Since they gave such a business to some of the males. 
 
 The clam, who had scarcely been noticed before, 
 
 All c/am-erous for honors appeared on the floor, 
 
 And said that he hoped it were not out of place 
 
 For one so neglected to open his case. 
 
 He acknowledged he was of diminutive size, 
 
 But br&gged on his muscle quite to their suprise ; 
 
 And stated, though he was not sought for his oil. 
 
 He often was found in a stew or a hroil. 
 
 The oyster arose and modestly said 
 
 The most of his time had been passed in his hed ; 
 
 That he never had feared the fishes or snakes, 
 
 But his virtuous bed was molested by rakes. 
 
 The tortoise for honor began to contend 
 
 By saying that he was the " Alderman's friend." 
 
 Said he, " tho' I scarcely can move on my feet, 
 
 I oft' travel far my admirers to meet.^' 
 
 A fish of five inches now wished to be seen ; 
 
 Says the cod 111 not listen to any sardine. 
 
 The crab thought his presence no longer desired. 
 
 So he left the convention and backward retired. 
 
 The flying-fish flew in a passion, no doubt. 
 
 At seeing so many old suckers about. 
 
 The convention broke up and the members declare 
 
 That like many now-a-days, 'twas a scaly affair. 
 
 Tflklte Smitli, Esq. 
 
 White Smith, Esq., as he is called. 
 
 Is blacksmith of our town ; 
 He's likewise Justice of the Peace, 
 
 And one of some renown. 
 He advertises he'll attend 
 
 To blacksmithing and law ; 
 Will file an affidavit, deed, 
 
 Or even file a saw. 
 
AND LOCAL LYRICS. IT 
 
 Sometimes he^s pounding in his shop, 
 
 Sometimes expounding laws ; 
 Sometimes he^s discontented, just 
 
 Because he has no cause, 
 Unlike the multitude of men * 
 
 ^ I'll mention in my rhymes, 
 
 ^' He's always best contented when 
 *We all have trjing times. 
 
 He'll not do a dishonest act, 
 
 Some say, at any price. 
 But I must state it as a fact. 
 
 He has one heavy vice. 
 'Tis said he never plays at cards, 
 
 But many, I will pledge. 
 Have caught our model blacksmith at 
 
 A favorite game of sledge. 
 
 In courts of justice, Justice Smith, 
 
 Intending to be iust, 
 Convicts a man of forgery 
 
 When duty says he must ; 
 Then in his shop, all by himself, 
 
 The same thing he will do — 
 For true it is, for sake of pelf, 
 
 He forges largely too. 
 
 Though he is called a quiet man, 
 
 I'd have the people know 
 Whene'er you go into his shop 
 
 He's always bound to blow. 
 I've heard it said that he is free 
 
 From all dishonest tricks ; 
 Dishonest though it may not be, 
 
 He steels the miners' picks. 
 
18 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 
 
 Friend Smith, I hope, will pardon me 
 For taking up his case ; 
 
 Quite likely he's the likeliest man 
 Now living in the place. 
 » So greatly he excels us all 
 
 In honesty, 'tis plain 
 
 When his official term runs out 
 
 We'll run him in again. 
 
 Woman's Bigbts. 
 
 Dear creatures of the gentler sex, 
 
 I ask you for a single minute, 
 To study carefully my rhyme 
 
 And see if there be reason in it. 
 The questions what are womans' rights 
 
 And what belong to her dominion, 
 Shall herein have the benefit 
 
 Of my unprejudiced opinion. 
 
 I deem it proper, just and right. 
 
 That women write just what is proper ; 
 But when she gets to raising Ned, 
 
 'Tis needless to attempt to stop her. 
 I deem it right for pretty girls, 
 
 Who for an offer vainly tarry. 
 To drop a 'kerchief, glove or hint. 
 
 Before some man whom they would marry. 
 
 A belle may have a cutting tongue, 
 
 It is her right and none can doubt it ; 
 'Tis her defensive weapon, and 
 
 A belle is valueless without it. 
 The belles may ring ( their fingers ) when 
 
 They like, but then no one supposes, 
 That they have any right to ring 
 
 Their lovers or their husbands noses. 
 
AND LOCAL LYRICS 19 
 
 Mistaken mode gives girls the right 
 
 To darken hair or whiten faces, ^ 
 
 To lace their waist a little tight 
 
 Or wear a hoop (in certain cases); 
 Mode makes it right to hide their heads 
 
 In Leghorn lanes where none can find them, 
 Or would they have their heads observed 
 
 To wear their bonnets just behind them. 
 
 A woman has a right to scold 
 
 Her children when they're cross and fretty, 
 Or any one who dares declare 
 
 That they are anything but pretty ; 
 But then she has no kind of right 
 
 To say her husband is a noodle, 
 Or make him tend the baby while 
 
 She takes abroad the precious poodle. 
 
 The ladies have undoubted right 
 
 To teach us men our bounden duty, 
 To love, respect and honor them 
 
 For their undoubted worth and beauty ; 
 They have a right, most certainly. 
 
 To share our poverty and riches. 
 To mend our manners, stockings, and 
 
 To mend, but never wear our trousers. 
 
 Tanlty and Pride, 
 
 y rhyme is of two little weeds, called Vanity and Pride, 
 iat in the garden of our hearts are ever side by side. 
 ley are weeds of very sudden growth, and, getting once a start, 
 iiey choke the flowers that otherwise would beautify the heart, 
 ^ey flourish in all seasons, and thrive in every clime, 
 [ley were sown in Eden^s garden, and will perish but with time, 
 ley are weeds that are productive of but very little good, 
 nd 'tis said the breath of flattery supplies them both with food. 
 will tell a truthful story, just to make the matter plain. 
 
20 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 
 
 And prove to you that flattery will make one proud and vain. 
 It is of my own experience, and perhaps, when it is shown, 
 Twill appear to be, to some of you, a little like your own. 
 Once I knew a little roguish maid, whose smooth and glossy hair 
 Hung down in wavy ringlets about her neck so fair ; 
 Whose eyes were so expressive, so lustrous, soft and blue, 
 Whose pretty cheeks were blooming with such a rosy hue. 
 Who seemed so like a fairy, I was touched with Cupid^s dart, 
 And bowing at her queenly feet I tendered her my heart. 
 When I told of my affection she granted me a smile. 
 And from then, naught like her presence could my tedious 
 
 hours beguile. 
 I was constantly beside her, and my prospects were so fair 
 That my mind was ever building golden castles in the air. 
 We would often roam together, and would often spend an hour 
 In the fields, the grove, or garden, where she seemed a lovely 
 
 flower. 
 She was skillful with the pencil, I was fond of making rhymes, 
 In our rhyming and our pencilings we oft had merry times ; 
 For my songs were all of Julia, and my heart was full of glee 
 When I saw that Julia's pencilings were likenesses of me. 
 Well remember I one bright day, one sunny day in Spring, 
 We took a ramble to the grove to hear the gay birds sing. 
 My soul was full of poetry, which burst forth into song — 
 Twas as usual of my Julia, and I'm sure I meant no wrong : — 
 Loud were my verses echoed back by mountains, trees and air. 
 That Julia was an angel and the fairest of the fair, 
 But alas ! my song awakened so her vanity and pride 
 That she would never condescend to be my happy bride. 
 So proud and vain in little time Miss Julia got to be. 
 That very ugly likenesses she said were just like me, 
 While, on the other hand, 'tis said, she often will aver 
 That all my little songs of love were written just for her. 
 Years have elapsed since that took place, and I am single yet. 
 But Julia wished a foreign lord, and chanced a lord to get ; 
 A lord who lorded over her in such a lordless way, 
 That she, Oh Lord ! found him no lord, and from him ran away. 
 
AND LOCAL LYRICS. 21 
 
 A Tale of a Tailor. 
 
 I once a dapper tailor knew — 
 
 Folks called him Harry Shears — 
 His hair was rather red and grew 
 
 An ell below his ears. 
 By fitting men with vests and pants 
 
 He got a start in life, 
 And panted to invest a chance 
 
 To get a fitting wife. 
 
 Marriage was on the tapis now, 
 
 He laid aside his tape, 
 And sent a Cape Cod customer 
 
 A cloak without a cape ; 
 He threw his yard-stick many a yard, 
 
 Put on his coat and hat, 
 And said — " I'll make myself a goose 
 
 Or married man — that's flat ! " 
 
 Of Sally Button he had heard 
 
 The village people tell — 
 She kept a millinery shop 
 
 And little things to sell. 
 She had a pretty pair of eyes, 
 
 A generous nose and soul. 
 And Sally's mouth looked very like 
 
 A pretty button-hole. 
 
 Shears sallied down to Sally's place 
 
 As fast as he could walk, 
 Sent in his press-board with his name 
 
 Marked with a piece of chalk. 
 Miss Button never stirred a peg, 
 
 But looked the window through — 
 So Shears popped into Sally's shop 
 
 And popped the question, too. 
 
22 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 
 
 The question took her by surprise, 
 
 Shears took her by the hand, 
 And standing OA^er her, he tried 
 
 To make her understand : 
 Said he " I've got the largest stock 
 
 Of clothes in town, I vow — " 
 " Oh yes,'' said she, " and, 1 suppose, 
 
 You want a Button now." 
 
 " Look here. Sir Press-board man," said she, 
 
 You're smooth, I must confess ; 
 And I might go and board with you, 
 
 If I could stand the press. 
 Of your discourse I see the thread. 
 
 But must reject the plan — 
 I'd truly be a goose to wed, 
 
 The ninth part of a man." 
 
 Shears didn't dull on this rebuff: 
 
 His old goose never hissed. 
 Nor did he wax a thread, until 
 
 Accepted by Miss Twist. 
 But then he didn't marry her — 
 
 Because, I have no doubt, 
 While he cut out somebody's coat 
 
 Somebody cut him out. 
 
 Said Shears, " I've got their measure now : 
 
 They've given me the slip ; 
 And since I can't the matter mend, - 
 
 'Tis sense to let it rip — 
 So, I'll take up my quarters now 
 
 Where I will be content 
 By closing rents in peoples' clothes 
 
 To meet my quarter's rent." 
 
AND LOCAL LYRICS. 23 
 
 l¥e Miss Tliee at Home. 
 
 We miss thee at home, ah ! we miss thee, 
 
 And grieve that thy presence so dear, 
 Is wanting with those who but bless thee, 
 
 While saying " we wish he were here." 
 The friends who have mourned thy departure, 
 
 In the land of rich treasures to roam, 
 Thy memory cherish as sacred, 
 
 While daily they miss thee at home. 
 
 At morning, at noon, or at even. 
 
 Our circle is never complete. 
 And we offer our prayers unto Heaven, 
 
 That soon, very soon, we may meet. 
 Ah ! sad is the voice of our singing, 
 
 And mournful the theme of our song, 
 Since the words in our ears are still ringing — 
 
 Oh, why does he tarry so long. 
 
 Around the old family table, 
 
 We daily, though sadly repair. 
 For where thou wast wont to be seated, 
 
 We notice the lone vacant chair. 
 We miss thee at night in the parlor, 
 
 Thy voice^s sweet musical tone 
 Is wanting to gladden the spirit 
 
 Of those who but miss thee at home. 
 
 We miss thee at home, ah ! we miss thee, 
 
 Thy presence is needed to cheer 
 The hearts of that now broken circle, 
 
 Who ardently wish thou wert here. 
 Ah I little to us are the treasures 
 
 That tempted thee far from our shore, 
 Since we can but mourn for the pleasures 
 
 Thy presence alone can restore. 
 
24 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 
 
 liines to tbe I^adies 
 
 Dear ladies, since I feel inspired, 
 
 Both by my muse and inclination, 
 I'll reel a roll of rambling rhyme, 
 
 And unto you make dedication. 
 IVe often been attorney for 
 
 The males, who fancy they are giants, 
 And now I'll undertake to plead 
 
 A case for you, my pretty clients. 
 
 And in my '' opening speech " I'll say 
 
 It is a pleasurable duty. 
 And worth my while to plead for worth, 
 
 While worth like thine is found with beauty; 
 And since you are the subjects of 
 
 Abuse from many of my gender, 
 I'll step aside from all the rest, 
 
 And stand, undaunted, your defender. 
 
 . Some, unacquainted with your sex. 
 
 Pretend to be of the opinion 
 That you were only formed to vex 
 
 The males, o'er whom you hold dominion ; 
 But, meeting many a matchless mind, 
 
 That isn't unto folly given, 
 This verdict I'm compelled to find : 
 
 That you are angels out of heaven. 
 
 Poor scribblers and our would-be wits 
 
 Speak highly of you to your faces, 
 Then, with poor puns and heartless hits, 
 
 Attack you from their hidden places. 
 No matter what on earth you wear, 
 
 These knaves who seek your kind caresses, 
 Discharge their pop-guns at your hair. 
 
 Your bonnets, or your pretty dresses. 
 
AND LOCAL LYEICS. 25 
 
 * 
 
 They call your bonnets " Leghorn lanes f 
 
 You drop them, and the prating preachers 
 Will swear you now wear bonnets small 
 
 Just to display your pretty features ; 
 And is your dress an inch too long, 
 
 These men will call you '' sidewalk sweepers ;" 
 And when you tack them up a bit, 
 
 Why, it^s to show your pretty " creepers." 
 
 Then lace your waist a little tight, 
 
 Or waste your lace in " bibbs and tuckers," 
 You still are quizzed and criticised 
 
 By the same set of seedy suckers ; 
 They raise a war-hoop at a hoop, 
 
 And liken ladies to a barrel, 
 But should you drop your crinolines. 
 
 They'll still find fault with your apparel. 
 
 Now, ladies, do not mind these elves. 
 
 But treat their squibs as idle rumors, 
 And when you tire of wearing hoops. 
 
 Why, if you please, resume the bloomers. 
 Just wear for ine a kindly heart. 
 
 Let rosy smiles light up your features. 
 Dress in a style to suit yourselves. 
 
 And still 1 11 call you lovely creatures. 
 
 Alexander Huuter. 
 
 A. Hunter is my hero's name, 
 
 And occupation too : 
 To hunt the country o'er for game 
 
 Is all he aims to do ; 
 And yet A . Hunter comes to town 
 
 Quite often, through the year, 
 Upon no earthly business save 
 
 To meat the people here. 
 
26 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 
 
 The epicures about the place 
 
 On rare-bits love to fare ; 
 And with young rabbits Hunter can 
 
 Just suit them to a hare. 
 His venison, he says, is cheap — 
 
 It may be — but I fear 
 However much it tastes like sheep 
 
 We must admit ^tis deer. 
 
 When Hunter takes a deadly aim, 
 
 He's never known to fail : 
 Though woodcocks are afraid of him, 
 
 He cannot make them " quail." 
 When Hunter has his powder dry, 
 
 And rifle all in trim. 
 To charge upon a flock of geese, 
 
 They say is '' ducks for him." 
 
 Those well acquainted with the man 
 
 Upon their word declare 
 There's mischief bruin when he gets 
 
 His eyes upon a bear ; 
 And, strange although the fact may seem, 
 
 I've often heard it said 
 A. Hunter just from meat alone 
 
 Can make his daily bread. 
 
 At hunting, Hunter has success — 
 
 But wherein does it lie ? 
 Well, I have heard some people guess 
 
 That it is " in his eye ;" 
 Some lay it to his use of arms — 
 
 And others, as I'm born. 
 Urge that he " keeps his powder dry " — 
 
 While some say " in a horn." 
 
AND LOCAL LYRICS. 27 
 
 Now I have but a word to say — 
 
 Which is, that I have found 
 That all the game which Hunter kills 
 
 Receives a mortal wound. 
 Long may he live — and early win 
 
 A fortune and a fame ; 
 And when his game of life is o'er, 
 
 May death find Hunter game. 
 
 Musings of a ITIaniac. 
 
 Here by bolts and bars protected, 
 Here by once prized friends neglected, 
 Penniless, hence not respected, 
 
 I am doomed to solitude ; 
 Doomed alone to utter sadness, 
 Such as prones a mind to madness — 
 Nothing to engender gladness. 
 
 Is there in my cell, so rude. 
 
 Save by criminals unpitied. 
 
 By the world pronounced weak-witted, 
 
 Though no crime have I committed, 
 
 I must be content to stay. 
 As to-day, will be to-morrow ; 
 Trouble IVe no need to borrow, 
 IVe enough to feed my sorrow, 
 
 That I cannot drive away. 
 
 No ungenerous accusation, 
 No unrighteous imputation, 
 And no wrong insinuation, 
 
 Would I on a mortal cast. 
 Though I speak, and speak severely, 
 I can say, and say sincerely, 
 That I see, and see most clearly, 
 
 Through the plottings of the past. 
 
28 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 
 
 I've two friends that ne'er deceive me, 
 Though at times I fear they leave me, 
 Oft I welcome to reprieve me — 
 
 Both my mind and maiden muse; 
 And when comes my muse and reason, 
 Gladly I embrace the season, 
 
 And those blessed moments use. 
 Come they oft, my soul uplifting, 
 Conquering clouds around me drifting ; 
 Come they like the sunlight, sifting 
 
 Gently through my prison bars. 
 Though their time I know is fleeting, 
 Joyfully I hail the meeting, 
 And I give them such a greeting, 
 
 As the midnight gives the stars. 
 Some in whom I've been confiding. 
 My misfortunes now take pride in, 
 There's no further room for hiding 
 
 Motives that impelled them on ; 
 They've accomplished, strictly speaking, 
 All for which they have been seeking, 
 And methinks they truly glory, 
 As they circulate the story. 
 
 That another mind is gone. 
 He who needs an explanation, 
 Little knows my situation. 
 And can make true calculation 
 
 Just how far his hands are clear. 
 Furrowed, though, by care my face is ; 
 Though in it they see the traces 
 Of a maniac — my place is 
 
 Happier than his, I fear. 
 
Am) LOCAL LYRICS. 2^ 
 
 The Country Editor. 
 
 The country editor ! how sage 
 
 He looks while walking down 
 Unto the printing office, from 
 
 His boarding place up town ; 
 Revolving over in his mind 
 
 Some horrid row or joke, 
 He passes on, wrapped up in thought, 
 
 And in a Spanish cloak. 
 
 His face, the type of dignity, 
 
 That all respect commands, 
 He thinks the nation^s destiny 
 
 Is resting on his hands. 
 His form now standing by his stand, 
 
 Puffiing a play and pipe, 
 Now setting leaded leaders up 
 
 In his long-primer type. 
 
 All night he has been writing duns 
 
 To patrons in arrears ; 
 All day the call for copy has 
 
 Been ringing in his ears. 
 And then with pi the devil made, 
 
 He^s really been oppressed ; 
 What wonder that he loves the pie 
 The bakers make the best. 
 
 Exchanges now are piling in, 
 
 Letters, and bills, and duns, 
 Conundrums, riddles, poems, and 
 
 Excruciating puns. 
 Among the rubbish, he receives 
 
 A challenge from no less 
 A personage than lawyer Blood, 
 
 Who ** couldn't stand the press." 
 
30 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 
 
 Seizing his quill, he seats himself 
 
 An answer to indite — 
 Of course his nerves are steady, but 
 
 His pen's too poor to write ; 
 He cuts his fingers badly when 
 
 His wretched quill he mends, 
 And courage, like his blood, begins 
 
 To ooze at finger ends. 
 
 'Tis better I get out of this, 
 ^^ So I'll apologise, 
 
 For, taking now a second thought, 
 
 To kill him isn't wise ; 
 And should I fall by accident, 
 
 The public would declare 
 That in my death they lost a man 
 
 The nation couldn't spare. 
 
 The country editor ! how few 
 
 Appreciate his lot ; 
 Tho' he knows all the public's wants. 
 
 The public knows him not. 
 From purest " principle " alone 
 
 He holds your interests dear, 
 So take his paper every one 
 
 And pay for it a year. 
 
 Tlie Gold Dollar. 
 
 RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED TO MISS MARY J. 
 
 I do not mean the tiny golden coin — 
 
 A circulating medium from the Mint — 
 In value just a hundred cents, and which 
 
 Has more of beauty than of value in 't. 
 My song is of a young and beauteous girl. 
 
 With wealth of wavy hair and sparkling eye, 
 Whom I address, not by her real name. 
 
 But one that I delight to call her by. 
 
AND LOCAL LYRICS. 31 
 
 Little Gold Dollar is the treasured name 
 
 That she among her friends long time has borne — 
 So beauteous in form and features that 
 
 An angel for her beauty well might mourn. 
 How fairy-like her movements as she trips, 
 
 With heart and footstep light, across the lawn. 
 As gracefully as ever darkness flits, 
 
 When yielding to the coming light of dawn. 
 
 In disposition sweet, in manners free, 
 
 Ever as gentle as a turtle dove — 
 So winning in her ways, that e'en to see 
 
 Becomes at once a good excuse to love. 
 So innocent is she, in thought and mind, 
 
 Whenever in her presence one is brought, 
 'Twould be impossible for him to find 
 
 A place to harbor one unholy thought. 
 
 Long may she be as now, beloved by all. 
 
 And may her path through life be strewn with flowers, 
 And cares and troubles never intervene. 
 
 To mar the blissful nature of her hours. 
 May the Gold Dollar ne'er its brightness lose, 
 
 But ever be incapable of stain — 
 And growing dearer, as a jewel, prove 
 
 A prize 'twould be almost a heaven to gain. 
 
 Tlie Tegretable Girl. 
 
 Behind a market stall, installed, 
 
 I mark it every day. 
 Stands at her stand the fairest girl 
 
 I've met with at the Bay : 
 Her two lips are of cherry red, 
 
 Her hands a pretty pair, 
 With such a pretty turn up nose, 
 
 And lovely reddish hair. 
 
32 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 
 
 And there she stands from morn till night 
 
 Her customers to please. 
 And to appease their appetite 
 
 She sells them beans and peas. 
 Attracted by the glances from 
 
 The apple of her eye, 
 And by her Chili apples too, 
 
 Each passer by will buy. 
 
 She stands upon her little feet. 
 
 Throughout the livelong day, 
 And sells her celery and things — 
 
 A big feat by the way. 
 She changes off her stock for change, 
 
 Attending to each call ; 
 And when she has but one beet left, 
 
 She says, '' Now that beats all !" 
 
 I.ines to tbe Devil. 
 
 Stupendous Devil ! never have I seen 
 
 Addressed to you a solitary line — 
 And so, Old Nick, I will allay my spleen 
 
 And dedicate to you a rhyme of mine : 
 I cannot praise you much, for I have got 
 
 No good impression of your real worth ; 
 And then you^re ugly — but that's the lot 
 
 Of some poor devils I have met on earth. 
 
 I never saw you, as I recollect, 
 
 And, truly speaking, trust I never may — 
 When my long journey comes, I hope, expect, 
 
 And pray, that it may be the other way. 
 Old Scratch, I never liked you very well. 
 
 Because I have good reason to believe 
 That you played hob with Adam, and they tell 
 
 How you beguiled our good old mother Eve. 
 
iLND LOCAL LYRICS, 33 
 
 At San Francisco, where I am installed, 
 
 I've heard you mentioned morning, night and noon — 
 Your name's a by-word — and I've heard it called 
 
 In every street, as well as each saloon. 
 That you have many friends residing here, 
 
 I'll say, Old Serpent, that I have no doubt — 
 You help them into business, but I fear 
 
 You leave them then, and never help them out. 
 
 Fve heard it said that you will soon be chained, 
 
 And thus remain at least a thousand years — 
 But even though your fate is thus ordained, 
 
 I shall not pity you, or e'en shed tears. 
 If you are thus confined, and cannot come 
 
 To steal our souls away, there are a few 
 (Although for worlds I would not number one) 
 
 Who will not fail to find their way to you. 
 
 If your Satanic Majesty will but \ 
 
 Be angry with me just for speaking plain, 
 And keep your doors against me ever shut, 
 
 I'll pledge that I'll not troulde you again. 
 Just keep away from me — leave me alone, 
 
 I'll do my best to keep away from you — 
 For as regards yourself, I'll freely own. 
 
 That " distance lends enchantment to the view." 
 
 ]IIatriinoiii.^l Joy§. 
 
 My marriage as an act was wise, 
 
 Above all other acts in life, 
 For I can gaze in two fond eyes, 
 
 And call their fair possessor wife. 
 I^m proud of little mouths to feed ; 
 
 It does me good to see them fed ; 
 Long of a wife 1 stood in need, 
 
 'Till now I've one who kneads my bread. 
 
34 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 
 
 It makes me happy, I declare, 
 
 To notice one soul-cheering sign — 
 My little girl has jet black hair, 
 
 And nose the very shape of mine. 
 I never fear an angry word 
 
 When I away to town have been, 
 Nor would I be afraid to board 
 
 A dozen young and handsome men. 
 
 A man's but half a pair of shears 
 
 Who lives along without a wife, 
 And though he lives a hundred years. 
 
 He never lives but half a life ; 
 He's always out of humor, health, 
 
 And very often, I believe — 
 Though he may be a man of wealth — 
 
 He's sadly out at knees and sleeve. 
 
 He plods along without a wife 
 
 'Till past the age of manhood, when 
 He muses on his wretched life 
 
 And thinks of what he might have been ; 
 Then in the bowl he seeks relief — 
 
 His last example is the best — 
 He dies, and like a punished thief, 
 
 Becomes a warning to the rest. 
 
 Tlie Tillage Book-keeper. 
 
 Cubanus Root was reckoned skilled 
 
 In mathematic lore ; 
 A high position, 2, he filled — 
 
 Accountant in a store. 
 His principal was pleased to see 
 
 Progression in his clerk, 
 And thai he took, from principle, 
 
 An interest in his work. 
 
AND LOCAL LYRICS. 35 
 
 Whene'er a dance or ball came off, 
 
 Cube Root was always sought ; 
 But, likin<i^ not sucli foolish things, 
 
 Cube set them down 4 n U. 
 Sometimes, from miscellaneous jobs, 
 
 An evening to beguile, 
 He'd call on Miss Cellana Snobs, 
 
 And chat with her awhile. 
 
 Her figure pleased him well, you see. 
 
 For she was fortune 8 
 In having many graces which 
 
 He could not numerate ; 
 And in addition unto these, 
 
 She had no small amount 
 Of knowledge, which the book-keeper 
 
 Took into the account. 
 
 Content with Miss Cellana's love, 
 
 Cube felt extremely blest, 
 And oft alleged he didn't care 
 
 A fraction for the rest. 
 So to a Justice he applied. 
 
 Who, when the job was done, 
 Had figured out that two fond hearts 
 
 Amounted but 2 1. 
 
 Cube's old employer, growing rich, 
 
 Through his book keeper's aid, 
 Made a " division " in the stock, 
 
 And set him up in trade. 
 By wealth and love thus 40-fied, 
 
 Ere long their sum of joy 
 In life was fairly multiplied — 
 
 They had a lovely boy. 
 
36 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 
 
 The rule that Cube had followed long, 
 
 Adopted still the same — 
 Nerer to make a figure wrong, 
 
 The " rule of three ^' became. 
 ^Till now, this happy family 
 
 Has wealth and high renown, 
 And Cube, the clerk has lived to be 
 
 The Squire Root of the town. 
 
 Ideal and Real. 
 
 My friends had often talked of her to me — 
 
 Spoken in glowing language of her mind, 
 
 And made her heart the crowning seat of grace ; 
 
 They had with one accord made her young soul 
 
 The temple of all goodness, whose bright ports 
 
 Were never entered by a shade of guile ; 
 
 They were profuse in granting her all praise, 
 
 And making her a being scarce below 
 
 The angels dwelling in the realms above. 
 
 I ne'er had seen her, save in pleasing dreams, 
 
 When in the calm and silent hours of night, 
 
 Closed in the arms of Morpheus, I lay, 
 
 And conscious only of the visions bright, 
 
 In which the face and form of my ideal 
 
 Beamed with a lustre, which, to watchful eyes, 
 
 Were far too dazzling for the sense of sight. 
 
 I had not seen her, yet to me she seemed 
 
 A boon companion, monitor and friend. 
 
 I was a minor, and a miner then 
 
 Had sought alone this boasted land of goM, 
 
 And with successful energy had plied 
 
 The useful implements of honest toil. 
 
 Fortune had favored every work of. mine, 
 
 And worldly riches lay at my command. 
 
 I longed to see my fancy's bright ideal — 
 
 To tell her of my love, and let her weigh 
 
AND LOCAL LYRICS. 37 
 
 In scales minute its strength and purity. 
 And chance soon favored rae and my desire, 
 For, Norval like, she left her father's house ; 
 But unlike Norval, she no servant took ; 
 But with her fond and anxious parents, she 
 Commenced a journey o'er the tiresome plains. 
 High mountains, alkili, and clouds of dust 
 Were freely mingled with experienced ills ; 
 And yet the courage of this little band — 
 Higher than mercury in summer's sun, 
 Impelled them onward to theii journeys end. 
 With joy supreme I learned her advent here, 
 And tried my best to fit my youthful heart 
 For the reception of its spirit bride. 
 
 I gathered all my youthful lays, 
 
 In which she ever was the theme, 
 And marked the strains that breathed the praise 
 
 Of the sweet idol of my dream. 
 
 I wandered forth among the bowers. 
 Where Flora's brightest offerings are. 
 
 And culled from thence the fairest flowers 
 To deck my dear ideal's hair. 
 
 I choose the gentle twilight hour 
 
 To make my hearts fond message known. 
 
 I met her, and at once the power 
 
 That ruled my heart for months had flown. 
 
 She was an uncouth, v«illy maid. 
 
 With freckled face and fiery hair, 
 I threw a boot-jack at the jade. 
 
 And left the town in mad despair. 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS , 
 The Sleepy Deacon. 
 
 FOUNDED ON FACT. 
 
 My father^s a minister, not to Spain, 
 
 But of the Presbyterian order, 
 He lives in a town near Lake Champlain, 
 And has preached to the people again and again 
 
 Who dwell on its beautiful border. 
 
 In his life, he has many a laurel won 
 
 Where'er he has filled his station ; 
 His duty thus far has been faithfully done, 
 And he's worthy, 1^11 own, of a worthier son 
 
 And a better congregation. 
 
 Don't raise your curiosity higher, 
 
 Twill be in vain I reckon ; 
 Tis not my purpose to tune my lyre. 
 To sing of the deeds of my reverend sire, 
 
 But a song of his sleepy deacon. 
 
 Deacon F. was as worthy a man, it's true. 
 
 As e'er weiit to my fathers meeting ; 
 Each Sunday he sat in the same old pew, 
 And, I'm sorry to say, ere the sermon was through, 
 He was always soundly sleeping. 
 
 While my father was telling of Jonah, who slept 
 
 While the angry sea was roc* ring. 
 Or e'en of our Saviour, who bitterly wept 
 O'er his drowsy disciples, the deacon kept 
 
 His peace, save the sound of his snoring. 
 
 The deacon had tried every method to keep 
 
 His weary eyes from closing. 
 But, in spite of his cloves and tobacco, would sleep 
 Eesist all his efforts and over him creep. 
 
 And he soon would be sweetly reposing. 
 
AND LOCAL LYRICS. 39 
 
 Each Sunday the act was ever the same, 
 And was played by the same old creature ; 
 
 To keep awake he would try in vain, 
 
 So he'd tune up his nose to its music again, 
 For his nose was his prominent feature. 
 
 His nose, as I've hinted, was large and long, 
 
 And his snoring resembled thunder ; 
 It would drown the preaching the prayer and song, 
 And the stranger who happened to be with the throng 
 
 Would always stare and wonder. 
 
 The churchmen forever were sounding alarms 
 
 To the wonderful one of their number ; 
 But Morpheus temptingly opened his arms, 
 And the deacon, as usual, would yield to his charms, 
 
 And doze away Sunday in slumber. 
 
 To see a steady minister's son 
 
 Is considered a terrible omen ; 
 For so many are given to folly and fun. 
 Each minister's, boys has unwittingly won 
 
 A very suspicious cognomen. 
 
 I was rather a wayward boy, I'll own, 
 
 But as fearless and bold as a lion ; 
 One Sunday, I said, in a joking tone. 
 That I would beat Morpheus ofif his throne. 
 
 If it took a rod of iron. 
 
 To the meeting-house stove I stealthily sped — 
 
 For my mind was made up, and no flinching — 
 I heated the tongs to a fiery red. 
 And cautiously pointed them toward his head. 
 
 And I reckon his nose got a pinching. 
 The scene that followed what I had done 
 
 I'm sure there's no need of detailing ; 
 But the victory over the deacon was won, 
 And he owns that the minister's rascally son 
 
 Cured him of a grievous failing. ^,.«*«==«=a=^^ * 
 
 /^ OF THK ^^ 
 
 \ U'NIVEBSITY \ 
 
40 
 
 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 
 A Pathetic Ballade 
 
 Young Billy Dash loved Susan Smash 
 
 Almost to distraction ; 
 
 He cared not a fraction 
 For the rest of the damsals in town ; 
 
 For Susan^s blue eyes, 
 
 Her tender replies, 
 
 Her hair so jetty 
 
 And face so pretty 
 Would bring the most stubborn heart down 
 
 To worship a smile, 
 
 With fear all the while 
 It might possibly change to a frown. 
 
 Well, Susan was sweet, and she dressed very neat, 
 
 She'd a gem of a nose. 
 
 And lips like a rose 
 That opens to the rays of the sun ; 
 
 She'd a form like a fairy 
 
 And manners so airy, 
 
 That each little foot 
 
 Was so pretty to " boot.'' 
 And so light that its owner could run 
 
 O'er the meadow and grove. 
 
 Where she often would rove 
 When her spinning and weaving was done. 
 
 Billy Dash mended shoes, sold novels and news 
 
 Until Sunday came round. 
 
 When he always was found 
 Arrayed in his broadcloth so blue. 
 
 Giving business the lurch 
 
 For the good of the church, 
 
 And plodding along 
 
 With the church going throng. 
 Or sitting alone in his pew ; 
 
AND LOCAL LYRICS. 41 
 
 Where, I'm sorry to say, 
 He would stop the whole day 
 And gaze at sweet Susan, its true, 
 
 Young Susan Smash would chat with Bill Dash, 
 
 Would ask him the news 
 
 And the price of his shoes, 
 And converse in a manner so winning ; 
 
 She would gaze in his face 
 
 With such goodness and grace, 
 Not to love her would surely be sinning ; 
 
 Sometimes she would stay 
 
 At his shop o^er the way 
 
 'Till her mother would say, 
 
 Susan Smash, lack-a-day. 
 Come back to your weaving and spinning. 
 
 But in process of time, I must say in my rhyme, 
 
 Billy's hopes were all smashed 
 
 And his happiness dashed 
 To the earth by a crafty attorney, 
 
 Who had seen Susan^s face, 
 
 And engaged in the case. 
 
 And had pleaded so hard, 
 
 That she pledged to discard 
 Billy Dash, whom she told, in a horn, he 
 
 Might win a fair maid 
 
 While he worked at a trade 
 
 So greatly below 
 
 Her professional beau, 
 Who had practiced throughout California. 
 
 Alas, for Bill Dash 1 he failed with a crash, 
 Lost leather and cash, 
 Went down with a smash, 
 Got wet in a splash, 
 
42 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 
 
 Took the canker and rash, 
 And lately our old undertaker 
 
 Placed some white marble stones 
 O'er the still whiter bones 
 Of Billy, the village shoemaker. 
 
 Tlie Frazer Fever. 
 
 Frazer Riveras the topic wherever we go, 
 With the sinner, the saint, the belle and the beau — 
 At the balls, at the courts, at the church and the show 
 'Tis the theme of the high, the dream of the low — 
 'Tis a subject on which all the bummers can blow, 
 And newspapers publish much more than they know — 
 It aiFords a good chance for runners to crow, 
 And brag about boats that are leaky and slow — 
 'Till wild with excitement the people all grow. 
 And start to the mines from above and below. 
 Without ever thinking their cake may be dough — 
 Without calculating the cost or the woe — 
 Without preparation for meeting a foe. 
 Who w^ould skin them alive for a dollar or so — 
 
 'Tis a subject on which we are crazy. 
 We fancy we see unmistakable signs 
 Of riches, for which every plebeian pines — 
 So every one, who, to be wealthy inclines, 
 Starts off to dam rivers, and, may be, the mines — 
 Rogues think it a country for cutting up shines, 
 The artist for sketches, the poet for lines. 
 The priest for his bacon, the bummer for rhinds. 
 Or a place to get rich without hurting their spines, 
 
 A perfect God send for the lazy. 
 
 Tis certainly strange that the people will be 
 So strangely excited, and stranger to me 
 For the land of the stranger, our land of the free, 
 Will be slighted by mortals of every degree — 
 
AND LOCAL LYRICS. 43 
 
 That all to the new El Dorado will flee, 
 
 Without knowing why they are going ; 
 That the goods in the country, and goods in the town, 
 From rings to rockets, and rockers down. 
 From rigging for boats to a rig for a clown, 
 Or a collar for somebody's wife, or a hound, 
 Are named for this river of wondrous renown, 
 Until Frazer's respected as much as a crown, 
 Until Frazer's the adjective, Frazer the noun. 
 And Frazer the bye-word of Smith and of Brown, 
 And the only place worthy of knowing. 
 
 Mankind the big stories are ready to read — 
 Mankind to be humbugged are willing indeed — 
 When they are excited 'tis no use to plead — 
 The side that is brightest is all they will heed — 
 One side of the picture is all that they need — 
 They dream of nought else than of striking the lead — 
 They kneel but to Mammon, embracing the creed. 
 That fortune depends on the swiftness of speed — 
 
 So they rush to the banks of the Frazer. 
 But a damper they find to their visions of gold — 
 A sequel to tales so excitedly told — 
 A check to the hopes of the young and the old — 
 That the water is high — that the weather is cold — 
 That the Indians, also, are plenty and bold — 
 That there's trails to be cut, and rocks to be rolled — 
 That the poorest of grub isn't suffered to mould ; 
 They find they have been most confoundedly sold, 
 
 And the fever cooled off in a measure. 
 
 But there's no use in talking or writing at all, 
 Or back to consistency trying to call 
 The people, or bidding them look for a squall, 
 Or to wait until Fall, when the river will fall : 
 They're bound to '' shoot off" like a derringer ball, 
 And take all the desperate chances. 
 
44 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 
 
 'Tis right that mankind by experience learn — 
 That by their exertions their knowledge they earn — 
 That they find for themselves every path has a turn ; 
 Bnt they really should muster a little concern 
 For themselves, and should muster the means to return 
 When they find that the fever is ceasing to burn, 
 And that truths are as strano-e as romances. 
 
 Acrostics. 
 
 Jennie, to scribble what he likes, 
 Each scribbler thinks his real right is ; 
 Now one extols, now one condemns, 
 Now one excessively polite is — 
 I'll try and most impartial be. 
 Endeavoring, also, to be human, 
 Make Jennie my selected theme 
 And bear in mind she is a woman. 
 
 Nature has given her a mind. 
 Developed much by education ; 
 Enhanced with beauty, yet none find 
 Vain feelings in the combination ; 
 I'm pleased indeed to see that she 
 Luxuriates in good opinion. 
 Long of our hearts may Jennie reign, 
 Enchanting queen with full dominion. 
 
 Agatha too in whose bright eyes 
 Guilt cannot find repose a minute ; 
 Agatha with a wealth of soul, 
 That has a wealth of wisdom in it. 
 Heaven never formed two brighter stars, 
 And gave to each such wealth of beauty ; 
 Mankind acknowledge homage due 
 And own allegiance as duty. 
 
AND LOCAL LYRICS, 45 
 
 Now let me as a friend of each. 
 
 Declare for each a friendly feeling, 
 
 Encouraging each one to be 
 
 Vigilant in deed and dealing; 
 
 I really wish that each may find 
 
 Life's pathway fraught with real pleasures ; 
 
 Live happy here and then at last 
 
 Embrace Heavens brightest, richest treasures. 
 
 Tliis Picture and That. 
 
 The bonny bright birds in the sweet sunny spring 
 
 Melodious matins and choruses sing ; 
 Though delightful their notes they are nolhing to thine, 
 
 But the notes of a Bankrupt are better than mine. 
 
 The dew-drops, the diamonds, or stars in the skies 
 Are brilliant but nothing compared to thine eyes ; 
 
 Thou hast eyes that eclipse every star in the sky, 
 But murphy potatoes have better than I. 
 
 How fleet the gazelle as it flits o'er the lawn, 
 
 How surprisingly swift " on the foot" is the fawn ; 
 
 Thy footsteps are fleeter by far, but 'tis known 
 That the /bo^ of a hill is as fleet as my own. 
 
 When the fields are all clad in their verdure of green, 
 One feels quite enclianted, so smiling the scene ; 
 
 Thy smiles are enchanting, though often I "grin," 
 I can't get a ** smile " for I havn't the tin. 
 
 The mines of Golconda and those of our State 
 
 Are rich — those of Frazer are thought to be great ; 
 
 But in thought and in mind thou hast wealth I'll admit, 
 But, though long I've " mined " I now long for a "bit." 
 
 I have seen at a glance, that a glance of thine eyes 
 Can electrify thousands and fill with surprise 
 
 The many whose eyes are enchained upon thee. 
 While creditors^ only, are looking for me. 
 
46 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 
 
 To 
 
 Miss Bell I have roped in to be 
 
 The subject of my song, 
 Although she's very short, I'll say 
 
 I've known her very long ; 
 Miss Bell is very proud indeed, 
 
 And ' airy ' too, as well, 
 In truth the ones who know her best, 
 
 All call her " Airy Bell.'^ 
 
 Although in grammar Belle is called 
 
 The opposite of beau, 
 'Tis clear that she is not opposed 
 
 To having one in tow ; 
 And by her anxious guardian, 
 
 ^Tis said, Bell has been told, 
 She should have brass enough to get 
 
 A beau who had some gold. 
 
 The consequence of this has been 
 
 With many tendered things, 
 Her tender-hearted lovers have 
 
 All tendered Bell their rings ; 
 Well, Bell receives them all because. 
 
 She thinks she might as well. 
 And every beau is proud to think 
 
 That he can ring a Belle, 
 
 With those who strive to win her, I 
 
 For worlds would never cope. 
 For rather than to take the Bell 
 
 I would prefer the rope ; 
 Although she's beautiful and proud, 
 
 As well as very young, 
 I never would accept a Belle 
 
 With such a cutting tongue. 
 
LOCAL LYRICS 
 
 AS SUNG AT THE 
 
 IKEO AID MEIODEOI, 
 
 SAN FRANCISCO. 
 
 Number I. 
 
 Our world is called a world of change, 
 
 And, friends, it mighty strange is, 
 That where we have so little change 
 
 There are so many changes ; 
 Of serious changes every day 
 
 We stand in serious danger, 
 And in my songs I'll tell you how 
 
 These changes " strike a stranger.'' 
 
 1 will not change my topic yet, 
 
 But say there is no knowing 
 How great amount of cliango it takes 
 
 To keep these changes going ; 
 The ladies here, for pocket change. 
 
 Have really got a passion. 
 But spend their change for change of dress 
 
 As changes now the fashion. 
 
48 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 
 
 Til ere are the changes of the moon, 
 
 And changes of the seasons, 
 Which changes are accounted for 
 
 On philosophic reasons ; 
 And of some other changes, too, 
 
 I'll give you some selections, 
 There's change of change, and politics 
 
 Here, just before elections. 
 
 Our little misses spend their change 
 
 For crinolines and trimming, 
 And think, when they have made the change, 
 
 That they are changed to women ; 
 Then quicker than the weathercock 
 
 Can change on yonder steeple. 
 They fall in love with some one's change, 
 
 And change to married people. 
 
 The ladies are required to change 
 
 Their partners here at dances — 
 To change them for a longer term 
 
 Sometimes they take the chances ; 
 For, m'irry here some pretty miss, 
 
 And take her from her mother, 
 And — presto change — through love of change 
 
 She runs off with another I 
 
 The merchants change the price of goods, 
 
 To suit the changing times here, 
 And every evening when I sing 
 
 I have a change of rhymes here ; 
 Our sporting men invest their change 
 
 On matches, games and races, 
 And " bummers,'^ wnen they^re asked for change. 
 
 Will change their hoarding places. 
 
AND LOCAL LYRICS. 49 
 
 There^s many of our public men, 
 
 'Tis true, as well as strange, 
 Have changed their private characters 
 
 By stealing public change ; 
 Their fortunes changing suddenly 
 
 From poverty to wealth, 
 They think a change of climate is 
 
 Essential to their health. 
 
 Chief Curtis went and found the change 
 
 That Captain Bennett buried. 
 But when he brought it into town 
 
 Down to the bank 'twas carried ; 
 They wouldn't give him any change 
 
 For bringing it about, 
 And so he quickly changed his mind, 
 
 And took the money out. 
 
 But ah ! how soon one's fortunes change — 
 
 Our Chief arretted was ; 
 Bell had it done, I'm told, because 
 
 He thouglit he had good cause ; 
 We live in such a changing world, 
 
 And lawyers are so strange, 
 That likely he will come out best 
 
 Who has the most of change. 
 
 Two undertakers, here in town, 
 
 I undertake to say, 
 From the dead house did undertake 
 
 To take a corpse away ; 
 Each claimed the right to undertake 
 
 The undertaking labor. 
 One undertaker nearly killed 
 
 His undertaking neighbor. 
 
50 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 
 
 A lawyer then did undertake 
 
 To clear the undertaker ; 
 The State did undertake to prove 
 
 The man a great law breaker ; 
 But friends, Til undertake to say 
 
 These undertaking fiends 
 Had better undertake to be 
 
 In future better friends. 
 
 No. II. 
 
 Humbug is certainly the go, 
 
 It seems to me surprising 
 That some new humbug every day 
 
 Some one is advertising ; 
 'Tis sadly true, I'll prove to you, 
 
 La bagatelle is courted, 
 The greater now the humbug is 
 
 The better it's supported. 
 
 There's Mr. Weeks and Cora Ann 
 
 Cut up a curious caper, 
 They came to San Francisco, and 
 
 Then started here a paper ; 
 '' The Athenasum," the sheet was called, 
 
 'Twas highly literary — 
 As far as swindling is concerned. 
 
 They were successful, very. 
 
 Five dollars was the price they charged 
 
 For the literary beacon — 
 To Mrs. Cora Anna Weeks 
 
 The public had to weaken ; 
 Five dollars here, five dollars there, 
 
 And many a place she's been to, 
 She beat both Stockton and the Bay 
 
 And cleaned out Sacramento. 
 
AND LOCAL LYRICS. 51 
 
 Tis said that our Assembly men 
 
 All listened to the stoi\y, 
 And showed a deal of gallantry 
 
 To Mrs. Anna Cora ; 
 She got a V. from every one, 
 
 And felt elated, very, 
 They couldn^t help come out to her 
 
 She was so literary. 
 
 Now in the " Glimpse" they've gone away, 
 
 These literary nymphs. 
 Again of them those who are out 
 
 Can never catch a glimpse ; 
 Though each of us is out a Y., 
 
 Don't let the matter vex us — 
 They played the very game, we're told, 
 
 In Canada and Texas. 
 
 The Steamboat Navigation clique 
 
 Got up an opposition, 
 And said tliey'd carry people cheap 
 
 And all in good condition ; 
 In many an honest miner's heart 
 
 A love of home was kindled, 
 But when they got down to the Bay 
 
 They found they had been swindled. 
 
 Such humbugs oft have taken place , : 
 
 Regarding ocean steamers, 
 And let us, friends, no more be fooled 
 
 l^Y such humbugging schemers ; 
 The Sacramento humbug, friends, ,. 
 
 Tm sure will do to brag on. 
 Let's wait and go across the plains 
 
 In Overtones steam wagon. 
 
52 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 
 
 The Stoval, and the Archy case — 
 
 Long time in litigation — 
 Soon as the fees run out, was brought 
 
 Unto a termination ; 
 Now Black Republicans rejoice, 
 
 And niggers all feel antic, 
 And Archy seems to think his life 
 
 Has been indeed romantic. 
 
 Our landlords over all the town — 
 
 It's true, upon my word, now — 
 Are getting most suspicious, 
 
 That men won't pay their board now ; 
 No matter what your business is 
 
 (The times are getting funny) 
 You'll hardly get a good " square meal '^ 
 
 Unless you have the money. 
 
 The credit game is quite played out, 
 
 And landlords don't feel able, 
 In these hard times, to have a lot 
 
 Of " dead heads " at the table ; 
 But, bless my star?^, we needn't starve. 
 
 If we are but half-witted. 
 We've got " free lunches " through the town, 
 
 Where dead heads are admitted. 
 
 The news from the Atlantic States 
 
 Brought out by the Sonora, 
 Says Corey, once an actor, now 
 
 Is Rev. Sydney Corey ; 
 He got religion first, and then 
 
 He changed his occupation — 
 And Broderick, in the Senate, too, 
 
 Has made a Q:reat sensation. 
 
AND LOCAL LYRICS. of thr '^ S!^ 
 
 i\^i:RSITY 
 Orville, or Awful Gardner, it ,^, == ^^ -^ 
 
 Is said could not refuse, there, ~3il,^l^^^s^ 
 
 To take religion, and a shop 
 
 Well stocked with boots and shoes there j 
 Religion's not a bootless thing 
 
 To him at any rate, now. 
 And would he work for good of souls^ 
 
 His chances will be great, now. 
 
 No. III. 
 
 Sam Brannan started here a bank, 
 
 And made an awful bluster. 
 And every body seemed to think 
 
 His bank would be a ' buster' ; 
 Of signs and circulars I'm told, 
 
 He ordered quite a cargo. 
 But * faro banks ' kept going on 
 And so did Wells k Fargo. 
 
 Sam hung his sign up very high. 
 
 That men might be attracted, 
 And in imagination, he 
 
 Much business here transacted ; 
 Compared with other banking guns, 
 
 Sam thought himself a cannon, 
 'Till something bursted Brannan's bank 
 
 And Moulton bursted Brannan. 
 
 Although I'm told, he's gone away, 
 
 'Tis true as well as funny, 
 That in the rooms he occupied 
 
 Men still deposit money, 
 And quite unlike the first concern, 
 
 It is'nt very risky — 
 For all who leave their money there 
 
 Can get its worth in whisky. 
 
54 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 
 
 They Ve got a nice steam ferry-boat, 
 
 I'll mention in my ditty, 
 The San Antonio, which runs 
 
 From here to Oakland city ; 
 She is. as Oakland ladies, fair. 
 
 And friends my free advice is 
 To patronize her well because 
 
 She runs at Lyceum prices. 
 
 The Contra Costa's running too 
 
 And brags on her condition, 
 As well as her abilities 
 
 To kill the opposition ; 
 Kemember that monopolies 
 
 Are bigoted and frosty, 
 And that she's still a contra boat 
 
 And once was very costy. 
 
 Old Brigham Young, the Mormon man, 
 
 Put on some foolish airs. 
 And stated that he knew enough 
 
 To manage his affairs ; 
 He told his people and his wives 
 
 About Old Uncle Sam, 
 Said he, I can protect your lives, 
 
 I do not care a farthing. 
 
 Now Uncle Sam was wide awake 
 
 And heard of Brigham's braging, 
 So he run up the stars and stripes 
 
 And quickly sent the flag in ; 
 Old Brigham bolted, and through fear 
 
 That he would get a trimming, 
 He left the city far behind. 
 
 But took away his women. 
 
AND LOCAL LYRICS. 6$ 
 
 Now Uncle Sam can never hust^ 
 
 Although he's called Si buster, 
 And when a nation asks for trust, 
 
 He's able friends to trust her ; 
 He takes a true straightforward course, 
 
 As steady as a deacon, 
 But when a nation puts on airs. 
 
 He's bound to make it weaken. 
 
 The great Dred Scott decision friends, 
 
 A thing of no account now. 
 To print, will cost our Government 
 
 A fabulous amount now ; 
 Some twenty thousand dollars it 
 
 Has ordered in round figures, 
 Enough to buy Dred Scott himself 
 
 And forty other niggers. 
 
 'Tis said that yesterday a man, 
 
 In no way reckoned crazy, 
 Walked through the street while on his back 
 
 Were chalked the words, I'm lazy ; 
 No doubt the mischief making imp 
 
 Who cut the curious caper. 
 Supposed him a policeman or 
 
 Reporter for a paper. 
 
 The Mint Investigations prove 
 
 The Melter and Refiner 
 Had better diggings right in town 
 
 Than any country miner ; 
 Though Uncle Sam has thousands lost 
 
 He cannot well dispond now. 
 He may get back some seven per cent. 
 
 Oa the official bond now. 
 
56 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 
 
 No. lY. 
 
 Each day comes round with something new, 
 
 And, as I have dominion 
 Of local items, I'll express 
 
 In public, my opinion ; 
 And I hould I, in the item line, 
 
 Get up too large a cargo, 
 In order to express my mind 
 
 I'll call on Wells & Fargo. 
 
 Up at the Police Court, to-day, 
 
 On getting items, bent. 
 At ten o'clock, or thereabouts, 
 
 I fixed myself and went ; 
 I saw Judge Coon and Col. James, 
 
 And Counselor McNair, too, 
 Some fighting men, and some '* dead drunks,'' 
 
 Besides some frail and fair, too. 
 
 There is an auctioneer in town 
 
 On Tuesday last was closed here, 
 Because he couldn't pay his rent, 
 
 I'll say it is supposed, here ; 
 The landlord's name was Kelly, who, 
 
 The auctioneer molested, 
 And the auctioneer, for an assault. 
 
 Had Kelly then arrested. 
 
 Nobody saw a blow exchanged. 
 
 But he then came and said 
 By selling ^oods at auction, he 
 
 Had made his daily bread ; 
 Coon fined the man a dollar, for 
 
 'Twas plainly seen that Kelly, 
 By closing out the auctioneer. 
 
 Had struck him in the b (stomach). 
 
AND LOCAL LYRICS. §7 
 
 I saw the brave mechanic there g 
 
 Who whipped his wife — I guess he m 
 
 Thought as he lived on Jessee street, ^ 
 
 That he might give her "jessee ;" 
 Or, as he said, '' she'd driven him 
 
 From cellar to the attic — 
 For a mechanic, too, she was 
 
 Too darned aristocratic/^' 
 
 Said he " I^m a hard working man. 
 
 And why, I cannot sabe, 
 My wife and daughter should wear hoops, 
 
 And put them on the baby ; 
 Besides, she will not share my bed, 
 
 Though *' cowld " is now the weather ; 
 In fact, Judge Coon, your honor, sir, 
 
 We cannot hitch together/^' 
 
 He said he only hit her once ; 
 
 Coon thought it was a plenty, 
 And for the striking luxury. 
 
 His fine was fixed at '* twenty ;" 
 Our friend declared that four pounds Jin£ 
 
 For him was rather rough now, 
 That one pound fine for on^ fine pound 
 
 Was certainly enough, now. 
 
 A Jew then got up near the Judge, 
 
 A dirty bag revealing 
 Containing several figs and prunes 
 
 Jim Taylor had been stealing ; 
 For taking tha forbidden fruity 
 
 To liquidate the blame, 
 It was contended mother Eve 
 
 One time had done the same. 
 
 They need amusements at the Courts 
 The same as other places, 
 
58 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 
 
 Policeman Hess expected is 
 To look up all the cases ; 
 
 Judge Coon is always found on hand, 
 Policemen all are there, too, 
 
 They Ve always funny amateurs, 
 With Counselor McNair, too. 
 
 Mr. Knabb, for whipping Mrs. Knabb, 
 
 Policemen nabbed, of course, 
 She had got tired of Mr. Knabb, 
 
 And sued him for divorce ; 
 Attorney Tingly plead his case, 
 
 Quite ably, I opine, 
 But Coon of the poor Mr. Knabb 
 
 Has nabbed five dollars fine. 
 
 The duel hasn't come off yet, 
 
 Though weapons are selected. 
 And though by many men about 
 
 The fight has been expected, 
 I'd recommend, for safety of 
 
 The parties interested, 
 To publish their intentions, till 
 
 They both may be arrested. 
 
 But if these men are bound to fight, 
 
 And nothing will prevent them, 
 I'd recommend that Brandeth's pills 
 
 As bullets should content them ; 
 No noble blood will then be spilled, 
 
 Both can retain their places 
 In our community, although 
 
 They fight at fifteen paces. 
 
AMD LOCAL LYRICS. 59 
 
 No. V. 
 
 The police docket yesterday 
 
 Was reckoned small for Monday, 
 But forty-three new cases, I 
 
 Should think enough for one day ; 
 Nineteen D. D.'s, which means " dead drunks,^' 
 
 To the temperance cause no flattery, 
 A dozen petty thefts, and some 
 
 Few more assaults and battery. 
 
 There's Mr. Maderson, a man 
 
 Whose passion needed curbing, 
 Assaults one Mrs. Mellon, thus 
 
 You see, the peace disturbing ; 
 Coon let him off, but told him to 
 
 Be careful how he fell on 
 And broke the peace, by damaging , 
 
 Another persons mellon. 
 
 To rig up something now to draw 
 
 The bar keepers are handy, 
 A pretty face or heavenly voice 
 
 Is used for selling brandy ; 
 The latest plan they have rigged up 
 
 Among the other riggings, 
 Is to rig out and advertise 
 
 A map of Frazer diggings. 
 
 At Steamboat Point, so says the " Call," 
 
 Among old hulks and rigging, 
 A motely crew of clamerom men 
 
 For clams are daily digging ; 
 With pity moved, you ask the crowd, 
 
 Why stand you there and shiver, 
 " WeVe but rehearsing '^ all reply, 
 
 " WeWe going to Frazer River J^ 
 
 i 
 
60 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 
 
 I The stories of the Frazer mines 
 
 r A love of gold arouses, 
 
 And men are putting out their lights 
 
 And shutting up their houses ; 
 In houses where you see no lights^ 
 
 Inquire for the late liver ^ 
 And you are told invariably — 
 He's gone to Frazer River. 
 
 The papers nearly all agree 
 
 That Frazer mines are wealthy, 
 But for the miners pocket though, 
 
 The journey is unhealthy ; 
 They say there may be lots of gold 
 
 In Frazer river gravel. 
 But like the road o'er Jordan, it 
 
 Is very hard to travel. 
 
 The enterprise of Sullivan, 
 
 News dealer is surprising, 
 He's made his pile by enterprise \ 
 
 And liberal advertising ; 
 When he got his papers from the States, 
 
 He could't wait till Monday, 
 So he hired a steamer all alone. 
 
 And took them up on Sunday. 
 
 Bar keepers, since the times are hard, 
 
 Have shown a deal of wit, 
 And nearly all here at the Bay 
 
 Sell whisky for a " bit ;" 
 And some of them, I've found, in town. 
 
 By putting in more water, 
 Will kindly let the " bummers " have 
 
 Three "snifters " for a quarter. 
 
AND LOCAL LYRICS. 61 
 
 At the Tremont you will find good board, 
 
 On Pike street find the suckers, 
 You'll find good reading in the " Call," 
 
 Good jewelry at Tucker's ; 
 And at the What Cheer House you'll find 
 
 The most of the new comers, 
 And round the free-lunch tables here 
 
 You'll often find the " bummers." 
 
 Dear friends, I've just discovered here, 
 
 As sure as I'm a sinner. 
 Friend Grifiith, who mav well be called 
 
 By all, the "jolly tinner ;" 
 You'll always find a jovial soul 
 
 In him in any weather ; 
 I saw him first six years ago — 
 . We came out here together. 
 
 Friend White, on California street, 
 
 Has got a livery stable, 
 Where, to rig out a first rate team, 
 
 You'll always find him able ; 
 I'm very glad to see him here. 
 
 And now my free advice is 
 To patronise friend White, who'll please 
 
 Both in his teams and priceg. 
 
 The ladies have come in to-night— 
 
 I think I will address them. 
 And call them beautiful, polite, 
 
 And lovely too — God bless them ; 
 We hope to see them every night, 
 
 To prompt us on to duty, 
 For all of us do better far 
 
 When we're inspired by beauty. 
 
 I 
 
62 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 
 
 I No. YI. 
 
 ^ The great excitement of tlie time, 
 
 That has but started lately, 
 Has had its bearing, friends, on me, 
 
 In fact, I've felt it greatly ; 
 It's quite confounded all my tunes. 
 
 And knocked me out of measure — 
 All day I think, all night I dream 
 
 Of nothing else but Frazer. 
 
 I dream of gold in sums untold. 
 
 Of snow up to the shoulders, 
 And think no bolder man than I 
 
 Is there among the boulders ; 
 In visions I am carried off. 
 
 Until I am so far gone, 
 I hear a noise that wakes me up, 
 
 And find I'm talking jargon. 
 
 Then in my mind I curse the mines, 
 
 And sink again to slumber, 
 Of Indians I'm besetted by 
 
 A most terrific number ; 
 " Wake pottelash ya chickemen, 
 
 Yah mika hiyou kultis, 
 Or clatawah, yon Boston man, 
 
 You never shall insult us." 
 
 Surprised, I* get on the Surprise, 
 
 In my imagination. 
 In spite of both the Governor 
 
 And his late proclamation ; 
 They take away my pick and pan. 
 
 My shovel and my rocker, 
 Because I've got no clearances 
 
 They shove me in the locker. 
 
 All c/amerous I cry for clams — 
 There's none for me I'm told there, 
 
AND LOCAL LYRICS. 63 
 
 I find I ana completely strapped, 
 And weatlier strapping cold there ; 
 
 They starve me so that I become 
 A most impetuous fellow, 
 
 And when I get to ** Bellingham" 
 For ham I loudly bellow. 
 
 Vm anxious to get back again, 
 
 But cannot pay my passage, 
 I cannot buy a " penny roll '^ 
 
 Or small " Belogna sausage ;'' 
 I think, if I could steal a mule 
 
 That I could well confide in, 
 I'd come by land, and beat the time 
 
 Of Tom McNabb in riding. 
 
 While at the mouth of Frazer there, 
 
 Neglected I'm sojournino;, 
 That e'er I left the Lyceum 
 
 I find that I am mourning ; 
 Myself and others there, in fear 
 
 Grim death will soon attack us. 
 Wish we again could Johnson hear 
 
 And see the mouth of Backus. 
 
 We wish that we could once again 
 
 Be here, and have the chances 
 To hear the charming melodies 
 
 And witness dazzling dances ; 
 We think of Phelps, our manager, 
 
 To see him we desire, 
 And long to hear friend Wilson say 
 
 That he was never dryer. 
 
 This, friends, was my experience, 
 
 It has a solemn seeming, 
 But take it with allowance, for 
 
 You know 'twas only dreaming ; 
 
 i 
 
» 
 
 64 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 
 
 And if my dream should prove untrue, 
 
 Just charge it to late lunches 
 Washed down before I went to bed 
 With twenty whisky ^punches. 
 
 For selling fruit on Sunday last, 
 
 A man w^as tried to-day here, 
 Coon fined him fifty and declared 
 
 The law we must obey here ; 
 The fruit dealer was ragged, sure, 
 
 In fact was nearly suitless^ 
 And though he plead his best with Coon, 
 
 His efforts were but fruitless. 
 
 Two barbers there were tried to-day 
 
 For keeping open places 
 On Sunday last, and cutting hair 
 
 And shaving peoples faces ; 
 'Twas proved they soaped their customers 
 
 From five o'clock till noon, 
 But in spite of all their lawyers aid. 
 
 They could'nt soap old Coon. 
 
 The Post Office on Sunday last 
 
 Was open all the morning, 
 In spite of Coon, the Sunday law. 
 
 And every other warning ; 
 Would ladies here an orange sell. 
 
 Policemen would arrest them, 
 But where there are so many mails 
 
 I think theyl not molest them. 
 
 The example Weller thus has set, 
 The ignorant folks will follow. 
 
 Keep open Sundays and be nabbed 
 For many a hard earned dollar ; 
 
AND LOCAL LYRICS, 6$ 
 
 You know in sin and everything 
 Mankind will ape their betters. 
 
 They'll do as Weller does, because 
 He is a man of letters. 
 
 i 
 
 No, YIL 
 
 Of hotel keepers here in town 
 
 There's some, at least, are schemers, 
 So anxious to get hoarders^ they 
 
 Will even board the steamers ; • * 
 
 To take the traveling public in, 
 
 As well as take their specie, 
 They send their runners on to meet 
 
 The people at Benicia. 
 
 There's Weygant here, the man in town 
 
 That two hotels is keeping. 
 In each he has the best of fare, 
 
 Good rooms and beds to sleep in ; 
 His boarders all look plump and fat, 
 
 And none I hear complaining, 
 I went there very poor myself, 
 
 But daily now I'm gaining. 
 
 A first class house the Tremont is, 
 
 The Clinton clean and quiet, 
 And boarders there are ne'er disturbed 
 
 By any noise or riot ; 
 He keeps no bar — that is, except, 
 
 Musquito bars a number, 
 That bar them out from biting us 
 
 While we securely slumber. 
 
 There's Woodward, of the What Cheer House, 
 
 Undoubtedly feels gaily — 
 'Tis said he feeds, to say the least, __ ^ 
 
 Eleven hundred people daily ; y^^'^^ ^ ^ '7^""%. 
 
 /T OP THE ^ 
 
 f UNIVERSITY 
 
66 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 
 
 I He's buildino^ an addition now, 
 
 I And Woodward lias assured ns 
 
 That when he gets it fitted up 
 He'll take difew more boarders. 
 
 The ladies do not seem to think 
 
 The journey one of pleasure, 
 And so as yet remain at home, 
 
 Instead of going to Frazer ; 
 It looks to me suspicious though, 
 
 Since none but men have gone there, 
 That bachelors and married men 
 
 Are taking cradles on there. 
 
 Our ladies (bless their little souls) 
 
 Have really got a passion — 
 The same as ladies always had — 
 
 Of being in the fashion ; 
 Yet I'll repeat a noted fact 
 
 That may create a smile, 
 That (in circumference) a miss, 
 
 Is good as any mile! 
 
 The little girls all follow suit 
 
 In matter of apparel, 
 And daily promenade the streets 
 
 All hooped up like a barrel ; 
 They know it's very true indeed. 
 
 But then to blame them, rather 
 I'll say it's right for every one 
 
 To imitate her mother. 
 
 Red petticoats were started once, 
 
 They say, by Queen Victoria, 
 And had she made the fashion go 
 
 'Twould have increased her glory ; 
 So ladies here once put them on. 
 
 And wore them out in town, 
 But, just because the bummers stared 
 
 They had to let them down. 
 
AND LOCAL LYRICS. 67 
 
 A lady was up in Court to-day 
 
 Whose tong:ue had been unruly — 
 The fine was but twelve dollars, which 
 
 Was very moderate, truly ; 
 They might have proved that she had drawa 
 
 Her weapons on another, 
 For as a weapon woman's tongice 
 
 Is worse than any other. 
 
 A case of fighting there was tried, 
 
 And, showing no repentance, 
 The one who won the victory will, 
 
 To-morrow, get a sentence ; 
 Because 'twas clearly shown that Branch 
 
 Was taken to the locker 
 For picking up a little branch 
 
 And walking into Walker. 
 
 I see here Tom McNabb, who rode 
 
 The match last week on Sunday, 
 And made two thousand dollars, which 
 
 Was quite enough for one day ; 
 The Golden Era, which, Til say 
 
 The people all take pride in, 
 Contains an accurate sketch of Tom 
 
 Just as he looked while riding. 
 
 The papers say, that in Vermont, 
 
 One of the college schollars, 
 Because hq kissed a pretty miss. 
 
 Was fined some forty dollars ; 
 The San Francisco girls, Fm sure. 
 
 Would never make such fusses — 
 Both Logue and Bowman will admit 
 
 They're fond of taking busses. 
 
 i 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 
 
 No, YIII, 
 
 A few more local verses I 
 
 Have made since I got in here, 
 And as youN^e asked me for them friends 
 
 I might as well begin here ; 
 I caught my muse to-night, and now. 
 
 If courage does LOt f i i her, 
 I'll stitch you up a little song 
 
 To prove that I'm a tailovy 
 
 The seats here in the orchestra 
 
 To-night I will engage, 
 Are nearly filled with men who have 
 
 A passion for the stage ; 
 As usual all good looking men 
 
 To night 111 say are present, 
 Although the contrast's bad for me, 
 
 The sight is very pleasant. 
 
 Friend Ball has rolled in here to-night, 
 
 And since to-night he's found here, 
 We really hope as time rolls on 
 
 He'll often roll around here ; 
 At his Saloon, just up the street, 
 
 He's many things to sell now, 
 He's tongue and tripe, and cold pigs feet, 
 
 And oysters in the shell now. 
 
 I see here Contra Costa George 
 
 Of Laundry notoriety, 
 Who daily after washing goes 
 
 I'm told in good society ; 
 He's in the washing business, 
 
 And very good the trade is, 
 And he's a favorite here in town, 
 
 At least among the ladies. 
 
AND LOCAL LYRICS. 69 
 
 The Globe wags on — so wags my rhyme — 
 
 From Monday round to Monday — 
 Looks very smiling any time, 
 
 And beautifully Sunday ; 
 Though Kings might try to vanquish, 
 
 By Archemedes I'll prove it, 
 So long as there's no place to stand 
 
 They surely cannot move it. 
 
 Vanover is another whom 
 
 I'll mention in my rhymes, 
 He's one of several bosses of 
 
 The Spirit of the Times ; 
 I'll say that public patronage 
 
 The Spirt truly merits. 
 The Times and its proprietors 
 
 Are often full of spirits, 
 
 I'll say the Spirit of the Times 
 
 Is a very spicy sheet, 
 And as good a friend in a gloomy hour 
 
 As a man would like to meet ; 
 There's Wilcox its collector here, 
 
 Of late Town Talk renown, 
 The tallest newspaporial man 
 
 I've met with in the town. 
 
 I see friend Winship here to-night, 
 
 I called on him to-day 
 Upon the steamer Shubrick, which 
 
 Is anchored in the Bay ; 
 Friend Martin, Andy, Johnson, States, 
 
 And I with great pomposity, 
 Went down but found the enf^ineer 
 The greatest curiosity. 
 
 We found on board some curious things. 
 Some curious machinery, 
 
 i 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 
 
 Besides a curious telescope 
 To look at curious scenery ; 
 
 Some curious rifles, cannons, swords, 
 And found what seemed most curious, 
 
 There was no whiskey there on board, 
 So 2^ few of us got furious. 
 
 Friend Winship who is engineer, 
 
 As sure as I am born, 
 Has very safely taken here 
 
 Four steamers round the Horn ; 
 Now as an engineer I'll say 
 
 Dear friends, that in a horn, he 
 Could find his match as engineer 
 
 In all of California. 
 
 On board the Yankee next we went, 
 
 Friend States knew every rope, 
 He found a bottle labelled rye 
 
 Without the aid of Pope ; 
 The Yankee's a fast sailing boat, 
 
 In fact a real rover, 
 On her, though tied up to the dock, 
 
 We all got half seas over. 
 
 And not until just four o'clock 
 
 Did any think of starting. 
 But all I think were asked to drink 
 
 By Commodore Bob Martin ; 
 We took a whisky toddy each, 
 
 And ended the excursion. 
 And I, though fuddled, hastened home 
 
 To give you this my version. 
 
AND LOCAL LYRICS. 71 
 
 No. IX. 
 
 Allow me, in our local song, ^ 
 
 To do our advertising, 
 And say our Lyceum gets along 
 
 In a manner most surprising ; 
 'Twas an experiment they tried. 
 
 In putting prices down, 
 The beauty every night we find, 
 
 And fashion of the town. 
 
 The great success the Lyceum meets, 
 
 I'll mention and with pleasure, 
 Is, very clearly, owing to 
 
 The ladies, in a measure ; 
 For every night the circle there, 
 
 Replete with living beauty. 
 Has been to all a motive power, 
 
 To prompt them on to duty. 
 
 We have the sisters Mandeville, 
 
 With songs the best and choicest, 
 Who are enough the house to fill ' 
 
 With their melodious voices. 
 The dancing Worrels, too, have we, 
 
 Who with us take the chances, 
 Besides, the man who beats the world 
 
 In many Sterling dances. 
 
 WeVe Hussy here, the funny man, 
 
 Who with them all can cope — he 
 Can beat a darkey from the South, 
 
 Or one from Ethiopa ; 
 We've Henry, too, and not to let. 
 
 The Christy Minstrels whack us, 
 V\\ say our management has got 
 
 Friend Backus here to hack-us. 
 
 WeVe Raleigh, who is really good. 
 And Johnson, who is a roarer ; 
 
72 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 
 
 K ■ 
 
 -'' WeVe Edmonds, Hallet, Bailey, Smith, 
 
 L With riorville and Max Zorer ; 
 
 ^ WeVe Oldfield, Bernard, and friend Phelps, 
 
 And not to let them fail us. 
 Kind friends you must excuse us, but 
 
 We've two good-looking Taylors. 
 
 With such a Company as this, 
 
 In such a nice location, 
 With pieces, songs, and prices such 
 
 As merit approbation ; 
 I'll ask you all, who think that life 
 
 Should be a scene of pleasure, 
 If His not better to come here 
 
 Than go away to Frazer. 
 
 WeVe twenty-five performers here — 
 
 In his or her vocation. 
 Each one will try their very best 
 
 To merit approbation ; 
 We only charge a quarter here 
 
 In any kind of weather. 
 So it only costs a cent apiece 
 
 To see us all together. 
 
 I notice Billy Mathews here, 
 
 I'll say, in friendship purely, 
 That all who know him say that he 
 
 Is a fine fellow, surely ; 
 Behind some nag of lightning speed, 
 
 Through town you'll see him plowing — 
 The only man, they say, who holds 
 
 The reins o'er Ned McGowan. 
 
 The ladies have come in to-night, 
 And I must now address them. 
 
 And say they're beautiful, polite, 
 And lovely, too, God bless them ; 
 
AND LOCAL LYRICS. 73 
 
 Although they're all hooped up, sometimes, 
 
 I'll pledge we will not heed it, 
 The coopers, all, will tell us that 
 
 The weaker vessels need it. 
 
 The ladies, I am glad to say, 
 
 God bless their lovely features, 
 Cannot, with much consistency, 
 
 Be called humbuging creatures, 
 For any girl's a fortune now, 
 
 And worthy our caresses, 
 For if you are deceived in her, 
 
 Shell make it up in dresses. 
 
 With such an audience as this, 
 
 I'll say we are contented, 
 For, by the ladies presence here. 
 
 We all feel complimented. 
 IVe said some hard things, it is true, 
 
 But now I'm going to soften — 
 You've complimented us to-night. 
 
 Please compliment us often. 
 
 No. X. 
 
 With fifty dollars worth of hides 
 
 It is said that yesterday 
 A tanner sent a man to town. 
 
 Who thought to hide away ; 
 And fearing he would hide the hides. 
 
 To town the tanner riding. 
 Hied after him who hid the hides, 
 
 And gave the man a hiding, 
 
 'Tis said, from Eugene Kelly's store. 
 Three hundred handkerchiefs, 
 
 Were the chief goods 'twere handed out 
 On Friday by some thieves ; 
 
74** MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 
 
 His object, now, in stealing them 
 
 I'll say no one supposes ; 
 'Twas a heavy blow to Kelly, but 
 
 The thieves can blow their noses. 
 
 There's Richers, who went East to-day, 
 
 Will doubtless feel contented 
 With the watch and chain and bosom pin 
 
 That to him were presented ; 
 Stone cutters and the masons would 
 
 Have given him a pitcher, 
 But all declared that Richers should 
 
 Have something that was richer. 
 
 The Brannan Engine that, you know, 
 
 Has caused some hard contention, 
 Since Howard No. 3 now owns. 
 
 Is well worthy of mention ; 
 Divested of its ornaments, 
 
 It can't be called a beauty, 
 But when it's worked by No. 3, 
 
 It's bound to do its duty. 
 
 Ford's Golden Era — better than 
 
 Ford can afford to make it — 
 Is sometimes stolen by the men 
 
 Who can't afford to take it ; 
 Ford takes it as a compliment. 
 
 And this I'll say, believing, 
 He overlooks the incident 
 
 And quite forgives the thieving. 
 
 Jack Powers was here not long ago, 
 But where he's gone is wondered ; 
 
 To one who'll find him Weller says 
 He'll freely give five hundred ; 
 
AND LOCAL LYRICS. 
 
 Now, sporting men should show their powers 
 
 And look through all the packj 
 Not often can they make as much 
 
 By turning up a Jack, 
 
 Our city guardians, they say, 
 
 Have done a deed worth naming. 
 For with sharp sticks they've followed up 
 
 All those engaged in gaming ; 
 They may put down the " faro banks '' — 
 
 It's very plain, as we know — 
 They dried up " rondo " long ago, 
 
 And fairly strangled " keno." 
 
 On Thursday, in Montgomery street — • 
 
 I'll say IVe heard a rumor — 
 That a blooming miss was really seen 
 
 Who wore a real bloomer; 
 'Tis really said, this curious craft. 
 
 From codfish and the suckers, 
 Attracted more attention than 
 
 The specimens at Tucker^ s. 
 
 Attorney Willis to Judge Coon 
 
 A good idea suggested, 
 That if petty thieves the town would leave 
 
 They should be unmolested ; 
 'Twould save committing larger crimes, 
 
 And lessen the offence, 
 Save Col. James a heap of talk, 
 
 The public some expense. 
 
 Jake Chase I notice here to-night, 
 
 The man who had to stay 
 In Washington Market, I am told. 
 
 To chase the rogues away ; 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 
 
 While Chase, the special watchman^s there, 
 
 I'll say it's my belief, 
 That not a single rogue or dog 
 
 Can get a smell of beef. 
 
 There's Lasey here, who may be seen 
 
 From ten o'clock till noon, 
 Explaining the dead languages 
 
 To our Recorder, Coon ; 
 He understands of lingo's, four — 
 
 I'll say the Courts have planned it, 
 So he can stand above the rest 
 
 And make them wncierstand it. 
 
 And I will tell you first, my friends, 
 
 I'm happy to see here 
 Jim Godfrey, once proprietor 
 
 Of the Old Mountaineer ; 
 To him we owe the invention of 
 
 The mountaineer punches — 
 I owe him nothing for his drinks 
 
 But something for his lunches. 
 
 No. XI. 
 
 Reporters notice every thing 
 
 From races to revivals, 
 They notice our distinguished men, 
 
 And all the late arrivals ; 
 I sometimes follow in their wake, 
 
 And notice people in here, 
 And as I see some that I know, 
 
 I might as well begin here. 
 
 There's Jolly Hudson here to-night, 
 
 A plummer, by the way, 
 But friends, don't get the fever up. 
 
 He's not from Hudson Bay ; 
 
AND LOCAL LYRICS. 
 
 Friend Hudson's known all over town. 
 His business here is thriving. 
 
 If a horse goes by with lightning speed, 
 " You bet " its Hudson driving, 
 
 I notice Keys the clothing man, 
 
 Down here from Clay and Kearney, 
 I never had much deal with him, 
 
 But then I'll say, I learn he 
 Has pants that he now "pants to sell. 
 
 And all who're interested, 
 Can invest their money for a vest 
 
 And find it well invested. 
 
 In speaking of our public men 
 
 Who nightly seek these places. 
 What wonder that I now and then 
 
 Should speak of " soda cases '' ; 
 Fitzpatrick is the soda man 
 
 To whom I'll give a singer. 
 Perhaps he should be better known 
 
 If I should call him '* ginger", 
 
 I notice here friend Harry May 
 
 From Biggs & Kibby's hailing, 
 Where when you want a social smile 
 
 You'll find him never failing; 
 I notice also Mr. Hobb, 
 
 One of amusements pillars. 
 Who owns the little paradise. 
 
 That's known here as the Willows. 
 
 Jim Smith is also here to-night, 
 
 I'll say its my belief. 
 That he has made a pretty stake 
 
 By selling people heef ; 
 I'd like to aid him with a puflF, 
 
 'Tis all that I can render, 
 
MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 
 
 If that assistance aint enough, 
 I'll say " his beef is tender/' 
 
 Friend Cohen, with his nice white hat, 
 
 I^m happy to see here, 
 Allow me just to tell you that 
 
 He is an auctioneer ; 
 He^ll tell you that he'll sell you cheap, 
 
 You've only just to try. 
 And if you do not like the goods. 
 
 He'll tell you " don't you buy.'^ 
 
 The ladies fair, an unfair thing, 
 
 I visited on Friday, 
 I never fared as bad as then 
 
 Among the/oir in my day ; 
 Though ladies seem to manifest 
 
 Some sympathy for sailors. 
 They took no kind of notice of 
 
 Dilapidated Taylors, 
 
 But just at twelve o^clock to-day, 
 
 I felt a great deal prouder, 
 While eating clams at Patten's where 
 
 We had a " Boston chowder '^ ; 
 Blue eyes and smiles and billet deaux 
 
 And crinolines and satins, 
 Could not compare with chowder yare 
 
 Each Sunday down at Patten^s. 
 
 There's Murphy, an attorney, here, 
 
 Who gets his share of cases ; 
 He's a jovial man, and thinks this place 
 
 One of the pleasant places ; 
 As an attorney, I will say, 
 
 A good one he, of course, is — 
 He's very good in any case, 
 
 But heavy on divorces. 
 
AND LOCAL LYRICS. 
 
 There's Billy Lyons here I see ; 
 
 He won't be angry, will he ? 
 We all like Billy's Lyon Ale, 
 
 And all of us like JBilly ; 
 There are some beverages, I'll own, 
 
 That would cause a persons ruin, 
 But almost any man can hear 
 
 The ale of Lyonis brewing. 
 
 i 
 
 No. XII, 
 
 Another of my promises 
 
 Has fallen due to-day, 
 While here are many creditors 
 
 All looking for their pay ; 
 The times are very hard indeed, 
 
 'Tis hard to keep afloat, 
 And so I hope that all of you 
 
 Will freely take a note. 
 
 This writing songs in critics, where 
 
 Nobody knows his neighbor, 
 Requires, to have them understood, 
 
 A vast amount of labor ; 
 Unless the subject is well known 
 
 By nearly all before us, 
 I might as well sing Digger songs, 
 
 And give a Chinese chorus. 
 
 I think, my friends, from what I've learned, 
 
 That we've sufficient reason 
 To call the fire of yesterday 
 
 The greatest of the season ; 
 And as I need some items much. 
 
 To help my rhyme along, 
 What little things I saw myself, 
 
 I'll mention in my song. 
 
80 iriBCEIiLANirOUS fdems 
 
 I noticed '' No. 2 " among 
 
 The first upon tbe ground, 
 And where the greatest danger was, 
 
 '^ Manhattan ^' bojs were found ; 
 Until their engine took on fire, 
 
 '' Yon bet " they made her " plaj, ^ 
 But when they all got nicely singly 
 
 They took her out the way. 
 
 I noticed that, quick as thought^ 
 
 Each company got water, 
 Attacking soon the element 
 
 From every nook and quarter ; 
 I saw '^ Pacific No. 8,'' 
 
 Like heroes, work a go^d while 
 
 Upon a little spot between 
 A burning house and wood-pile. 
 
 I noticed " Nos. 3 '' and " 1 '' 
 
 Were there, among the others^ 
 But as their machines were not in trimy 
 
 They helped to work another^s. 
 A Spanish dame appealed to him, 
 
 Geo Shyler says " I sabe,'^ 
 And darting in among the flames. 
 
 Brought out a Spanish baby. 
 
 A German in the boarding house 
 
 Was sleeping like a log, 
 But waked in time to save biniself. 
 
 By the barking of his dog, ; 
 He doubtless thought that one good tura 
 
 Indeed deserved another. 
 And so he threw his puppy out, 
 
 And thus they saved each other. 
 
 All dressed up in their Sunday clothes, 
 About eight hundred men there, 
 
AND LOCAL LYRICS. 81. 
 
 Were all corralled upon the wharf 
 
 Like porkers in a pen there ; 
 They started, frightened, down the wharf, 
 
 The fire and smoke would follow, 
 And the boatmen wouldn't take them off 
 
 Unless they paid a dollar. 
 
 The captain of the Senator 
 
 Sent out an invitation 
 For firemen to come on his boat 
 
 And have a fine collation. 
 Each fireman earned the tribute shown, 
 
 And when he ate his meal, he 
 Felt quite contented with himself 
 
 And pleased with Captain Seely. 
 
 IVe often seen the firemen work, 
 
 But really I must say, 
 I ne'er saw better duty done, 4 . 
 
 Than by those at the Bay. A 
 Such noble hearted boys are they, 
 
 I say not this to flatter, 
 I would not see them broken up 
 
 By any trifling matter. 
 
 The Morning Call, a spicy sheet 
 
 That's taken through the city. 
 Gets off' a deal of solid sense, 
 
 And now and then is witty. 
 Against the " corn league '^ here awhile, 
 
 It took a noble station, 
 Went in upon flour dealers till 
 
 It killed their speculation. 
 
 'Tis said that Gwin, at Washington, 
 
 Is rather going down, 
 While Broderick 8 gaining every day 
 
 Much honor and renown. 
 
 i 
 
 4 
 
82 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 
 
 To all who know the man at least, 
 1^11 say it seems surprising ; 
 
 It must be either gass or yeast 
 That's caused his sudden rising. 
 
 No. XIII. 
 
 I'm sorry that I am obliged 
 
 To say our lovely women 
 Think charity of less account 
 
 Than crinolines and trimming ; 
 That you'll admit a truth I'll tell 
 
 Is truly to be trusted, 
 The more of hoops the ladies buy, 
 
 The sooner men are busted. 
 
 We hear much talk of woman's rights, 
 
 And some are so strong-minded, 
 That unto tjieir advantages 
 
 They are most surely blinded ; 
 So down they're getting on tho men — 
 
 Unless their project fails, 
 They will not let their letters be 
 
 Dependent on the mails^ 
 
 But after all, I must declare, 
 
 Since ladies I'm addressing, 
 They were designed to be, and are, 
 
 No doubt, our greatest blessing ; 
 Their eyes can lead a preacher off, 
 
 Their smiles can charm a deacon — 
 There's nothing like a ladies frown 
 
 To make a Taylor weaken. 
 
 The Oakland ladies, o'er the Bay, 
 
 Will surely do to brag on, 
 I've often seen them riding out 
 
 Upon a baker's wagon ; 
 
AND LOCAL LYEICS. 
 
 I^m told they ride with any man, 
 
 No matter what his trade is, 
 Tis well they ride on bread-carts, 
 
 As they are well bred ladies. 
 
 I^m glad to see Bob Beaty here. 
 
 Who lives out at the races, 
 You'll find the White House, where he stops. 
 
 One of the best of places ; 
 Whenever to a race you go, 
 
 You must be sure to call there, 
 For were it not for Bob, I'll say 
 
 There'd ])e no fun at all there. 
 
 George Parkison, too, I'm glad to see, 
 
 I'll tell you for a wonder. 
 To poultry he has got in town 
 
 The Shanghai's must knock under ; 
 You'll find with him there's no foul play. 
 
 And it is worth your knowing, 
 He has enough of finest cocks 
 
 To do his extra crowing. 
 
 Among the audience I see 
 
 Our news dealer, Jack Stratton, 
 As fine a man, so all admit, 
 
 As ever had a hat on ; 
 We look to him for latest news, 
 
 And though lie after cash is, 
 His heart is only equalled by 
 
 The size of his moustaches. 
 
 In slicing up my local hits, 
 
 I'm duty bound to mention 
 Friend Slicer, a policeman here, 
 
 Who's worthy of attention ; 
 The boys who know him best, declare, 
 
 A first rate man is Andy — 
 To check a row, receive a cheeky 
 
 Or " smile," you'll find him handy. 
 
 t 
 
84 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 
 
 I^m glad to see policemen are 
 
 To-night where they are wanted, 
 There's several who are in to-night, 
 
 And seem to be undaunted ; 
 There's Captain Andrews out in front, 
 
 And I must not neglect him. 
 He's got policeman Hess along, 
 
 I notice, to protect him. 
 
 Friend Morse, I notice, stationed here, 
 
 He deals in stationery^ 
 Late papers, new romances, and 
 
 Books highly literary ; 
 Tis up on Kearney street you'll find 
 
 His novel-\\\iQ location. 
 Like Morse, the telegraphic man. 
 
 He's won a reputation. 
 
 No. XIY. 
 
 I've got a military song 
 
 To sing on this occasion. 
 And that you'll pardon me from wrong 
 
 I'll say is my persuasion ; 
 On general topics I shall sing 
 
 Unto the friends before us, 
 Though every verse to-night is new, 
 
 I have the same old chorus. 
 
 From strictly local topics now — 
 
 You'll pardon the digression — 
 I'll prove that we have humbugs here 
 
 In every profession ; 
 The creed that mankind gow upon 
 
 In deal with one another. 
 Is that one-half the world was made 
 
 To swindle well the other. 
 
AND LOCAL LYRICS. 85 
 
 WeVe quack physicians in our midst 
 
 Who pompously assure us, 
 Whatever may be our complaint, 
 
 That they can really cure us ; 
 These doctors do not oft agree 
 
 In practice or in reading, 
 But if you have a heavy purse 
 
 They all go in for bleeding. 
 
 And in the newspaporial line 
 
 Are sheets of some dimensions, 
 To lead the literary world 
 
 Have Warren-ted pretensions ; 
 They practice plagiarisms so 
 
 That people are believing 
 They keep their reputation up 
 
 By literary thieving. 
 
 The preachers now have changed their texts, 
 
 Tis true, as well as funny — 
 Instead of working now for souls, 
 
 Their sole desire is money ; 
 The *' camel and the needle's eye " 
 
 Are certainly forgotten, 
 And bridges made to get to heaven 
 
 Now-a-days are rather rotten. 
 
 Revivals in the Eastern States 
 
 Have made a great sensation ; 
 I think our State a noble field 
 
 For a like operation ; 
 For from the paths of rectitude 
 
 WeVe made such wild desertion 
 That nineteen out of twenty here 
 
 Are subjects for conversion. 
 
 Society since Forty-nine 
 Is some improved, I'm thinking — 
 
 1 
 i 
 
86 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 
 
 There isn't half the stealing now, 
 [ Or more than half the drinking ; 
 
 f At any rate the timee have changed, 
 
 And when one wants to steal, he 
 Must get a good position first, 
 Then do the thing genteely. 
 
 The Meiggs manoeuvres, I will say, 
 
 Are out of fashion sadly ; 
 And /. C. Woods, who ran away, 
 
 / see now managed badly ; 
 There's now a better way to steal, 
 
 And those who have the passion 
 Can pocket all within their reach, 
 
 If they will keep in fashion. 
 
 The lawyers to these popular rules 
 
 Have made themselves compliant ; 
 The subjects they go in to pluck 
 
 Is some ill-fated client ; 
 As long as he has money, they 
 
 Will be polite and civil. 
 But when they find they've got it all 
 
 Then he can go to the d (diggings). 
 
 There's doctors here, both old and young. 
 
 The pest of California, 
 Who've got more ignorance and brass 
 
 Than even an attorney ; 
 Around a wealthy sick man's bed, 
 
 With great concern they hover, 
 They take what little cash he's got, 
 
 Then leave him to recover. 
 
 The present ruk for getting gold 
 
 Is not the golden rule ; 
 Folks carry out a plan they learned 
 
 In quite a different school ; 
 
AND LOCAL LYRICS. 87 
 
 To say that all are after cash, 
 I think would better hit it, 
 
 And very few of them, I'll say, 
 Care little how they get it. 
 
 No. XY, 
 
 'Tis at the Police Court in town. 
 
 Walk up there in the morning, 
 You'll see there things that ought to be 
 
 To you a serious warning ; 
 You'll see there counselor McNair 
 
 Fulfilling his vocation, 
 And every time he makes a speech 
 
 He makes a great sensation. 
 
 You'll see a fat Coon on the bench, 
 
 Condemning each law-bre&ker. 
 You'll also see there Colonel James, 
 
 And sometimes Colonel Baker ; 
 You'll always see some limbs of law 
 
 Who hang about these places. 
 And look like ambrotypes of death 
 
 That ne'er were put in cases. 
 
 I saw Judge Scurber there to-day, 
 
 A very good attorney. 
 And just the shrewdest financier 
 
 There is in California ; 
 He pays out nothing for his drinks, 
 
 Because he knows a plenty 
 Of places, where, to save their lives, 
 
 They cannot change a twenty, 
 
 Tis said that he has lots of cash 
 
 In all the banking houses, 
 But that you never catch the judge 
 
 With money in his trousers ; 
 
 { 
 
88 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 
 
 He leaves his money all in bank, 
 For he ha? learned with sorrow, 
 
 That lawyers at the Police Court 
 Are always on the borrow. 
 
 At present, counselor McNair 
 
 Gets nearly all the cases, 
 And like the prisoners in the dock, 
 
 The rest have doleful faces ; 
 All mourn because they have no cause^ 
 
 While he has such a bevy, 
 And mourn, that on the heavy drunks 
 
 McNair's become so heavy. 
 
 Our prosecuting Willis is 
 
 A man of notoriety. 
 Who thinks to clear the Chinese out 
 
 Would benifit society ; 
 He^s after every China case. 
 
 His papers have no leak in, 
 And when he goes on Dupont street, 
 
 Tis thought he goes to peek in. 
 
 There's Joe Capprise, a fireman, who 
 
 No mortal e'er molested, 
 For whipping a French gentleman, 
 
 On Wednesday was arrested ; 
 Somebody with a nip-up coat 
 
 Struck Frenchy in a passion, 
 Policemen chanced to nip up Joe, 
 
 As he was dressed in fashion. 
 
 There's Mr. White, of whom you've heard, 
 
 He cannot blame me, can he. 
 If I should tell you that two Gifts 
 
 Were just one Gift too many ; 
 I'll not be able to explain, 
 
 Until the case is sifted — 
 Young Gift is able with a cane. 
 
 Old Gift is also gifted. 
 
AND LOCAL LYRICS. 89 
 
 No doubt, in this *' Gift-Enterprise," 
 
 That some outsiders wondered, 
 How they would like the price of canes 
 
 Established at three hundred ; 
 But I am told the price was paid. 
 
 And that without complaining, 
 And that they have more money left 
 
 To do another caning. 
 
 A man who whipped his better half 
 
 Was brought up to be tried. 
 The witness was a pretty one. 
 
 Who said she was his bride ; 
 " Were you acqainted 'ere you wed ? " 
 
 A lawyer asked politely, 
 The witness tossed her pretty head. 
 
 And grinning, answered " slightly." 
 
 Now-a-days, when people get the blues, 
 
 They seem to lose all hope. 
 Revolving over in their minds 
 
 Revolvers guns and ropes ; 
 Instead of coming here, where mirth 
 
 Would drive the devils away. 
 They make their exit from the earth, 
 
 And there's the devil to pay. 
 
 Don't let these suicidal thoughts 
 
 Divert your mind a minute, 
 For, friends, there isn't any sport, 
 
 But lots of folly in it ; 
 Instead of buying strychnine, ropes, 
 
 Or jumping into water, 
 Just cheat the devil, save your lives. 
 
 And let us have your quarter. 
 
90 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 
 
 No. XYI. 
 
 The famous Frazer Eiver mines 
 
 IVe chosen oft to mention, 
 And from the people every day 
 
 They're gaining more attention ; 
 Each man is going to Frazer now 
 I When he the cash can master, 
 
 " And yellow fever never took 
 
 Away the people faster. 
 
 We've broken politicians here 
 
 That ought to go to Frazer, 
 And there rebuild themselves upon 
 
 Some new invented measure ; 
 And broken sports might follow suit. 
 
 For up at Frazer, we know, 
 All sorts of gaming is allowed. 
 
 From faro down to keno. 
 
 The lawyers, too might go along, 
 
 For here we have a plenty. 
 And very easily could spare. 
 
 To say the least, some twenty ; 
 Although their business might be dull 
 
 About the mining places, 
 - They could go down among the clams, 
 
 And go to opening case^. 
 
 The preachers should to Frazer go. 
 
 For it has been asserted, 
 There's Myou Indians thereabouts 
 
 That ought to be converted ; 
 They ought to save the Chinooks there 
 
 Before they are too far gone, 
 And preaching always seemed to me 
 
 A good deal like the jargon. 
 
AMD LOCAL LYRICS. 91 
 
 Our actors, or legitimates, 
 
 Should surely go to Frazer, 
 For none who're up there now, I'm told, 
 
 Have had a bit o{ pleasure ; 
 And you can't find a single man 
 
 Who's made his mind to go there 
 But who will tell you promptly that 
 
 He'd like to have a show there. 
 
 The doctors might do well up there, 
 
 Their pills and physic feeding ; 
 For when the miners all get rich, 
 
 They'll stand a little bleeding ; 
 And should our doctors go there now, 
 
 Much better here 'twould make us, 
 'Twould help the chance for sextons there 
 
 As well as undertakers. 
 
 Since rogues are going every day 
 
 Policemen ought to follow, 
 For where a rogue can make a scad, 
 
 Policemen make a dollar ; 
 They should dress different from the rogues, 
 
 That miners need not bother, 
 As people in the city do, 
 
 To tell one from the other. 
 
 The bummers ought to emigrate 
 
 To Frazer River, really, 
 
 For that they could do better there 
 
 Is my belief sincerely ; 
 Free lunches soon will come in vogue, 
 
 And what should make them prouder, 
 Is, where they have so many clams 
 
 They'll soon be making chowder. 
 
 IVe lately heard it prophesied, 
 The Frazer emigration 
 
92 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 
 
 Will leave in California but 
 
 The China population ; 
 I am unable yet to go, 
 
 And all that I'm afraid is 
 That all the men will go away 
 
 And leave me with the ladies. 
 
 If that should ever be the case, 
 
 'Twould be a case of pity — 
 I never could endure to live 
 
 In San Francisco city ; 
 I'd feel as do the Japanese, 
 
 As though on foreign ground. 
 For I know, among so many Aoop^, 
 
 I could'nt stave around. 
 
 'Tis said the dead heads here in town 
 
 No longer look for pleasure. 
 And think of rigging up some plan 
 
 To emigrate to Frazer ; 
 To all else but the Frazer clams 
 
 Their hearts are really calloused, 
 They'll rig a flat boat out and take 
 
 The/a^ hoy on for ballast. 
 
 When the Pacific sailed to-day — - 
 'Tis true, I pledge my word — 
 
 They had, besides a lot of troops, 
 Some thirty mules on board ; 
 
 'Tis said an ass jumped overboard. 
 For spite much more than pleasure,- 
 
 The only one I've seen of late 
 
 That would'nt go to Frazer, 
 
AND LOCAL LYRICS. INIVERSll^ |) 
 
 No. XYII. <^4l^c^u^^ 
 
 The funniest thing in modern times 
 
 Last evening was transacted, 
 And His my duty to relate 
 
 To you how people acted ; 
 A great mass-meeting had been called, 
 
 Nobody knows by whom, 
 To take place in Montgomery street, 
 
 In order to have room. 
 
 And soon a red-wood platform on 
 
 The corner was erected — m 
 
 As bummers all assemble there, ^ 
 
 The place was well selected ; 
 The fat boy then was lifted up 
 
 By politicians twenty, 
 And as it held him, all agreed 
 
 It had of strength a plenty. 
 
 Soon after eight o'clock came round, 
 
 There came a motley crew there — 
 It seemed each nation on tlie globe 
 
 Had really sent a few there ; 
 Around the red-wood platform 
 
 Were funny forms and figures. 
 Prom Chinese, Black Republicans, 
 
 And Spaniards, up to niggers. 
 
 A man with big brass buttons, jumps 
 
 Upon the elevation. 
 Close followed by another, with 
 
 A mighty corporation ; 
 Five others close behind them came, 
 
 The weight was sure appaling. 
 But since the fat boy tried the plank, 
 
 None were afraid of falling. 
 
94 MISCELLANEOUS POEMS 
 
 In order to begin, they called 
 
 Judge Campbell to the chair — 
 He accepted, but on looking round, 
 
 Discovered none was there ; 
 The crowd then for a speech did call, 
 
 And there is no denial. 
 That several tried to make a speech, 
 
 But weakened on the trial. 
 
 For what the meeting was designed, 
 
 Nobody knew or learned, 
 But when the free-lunch time came on, 
 ^' All wanted it adjourned ; 
 So aliero of brass-buttoned blue 
 
 Just kept the crowd at bay. 
 Till the six who couldn^t make a speech 
 
 Had time to slink away. 
 
 This meeting was a game of bluff. 
 
 Got up by men, I find, 
 Who cannot get a chance to deal 
 
 So wish to go it blind ; 
 Though 'twas Anti-Lecompton called. 
 
 Each man can see, — now can't he ? 
 That all the speakers had to pasB 
 
 Because they could'nt ante. 
 
 Fitch could'nt fix upon a plan, 
 
 McDougal failed in his'n, 
 Estell then talked unto the crowd. 
 
 The crowd talked of the prison ; 
 'Tis said that every speaker failed. 
 
 That Mizner fairly mizzled, 
 And that for lack of gass alone. 
 
 The monster meeting fizzled. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 m 
 
 Mining Life in T'orty-nine - - - 
 All for Money - - - - 
 
 The Broken Miner's Soliloquy 
 
 The C( Lvention of Fishes 
 
 White Smith, Esq - - - . ^^ 
 
 Woman's Rights -------18 
 
 Vanity and Pride -------19 
 
 A Tale of a Tailor 21 
 
 Alexander Hunter - - _ - - - 25 
 
 Musings of a Maniac - - -•- - -_27 
 
 The Country Editor 29 
 
 The Gold Dollar 30 
 
 The Vegetable Girl 31 
 
 Lines to the Devil - _ - - _ - 32 
 
 Matrimonial Joys - - - - - - -33 
 
 The Village Book-keeper 34 
 
 Ideal and Real 36 
 
 The Sleepy Deacon 38 
 
 A Pathetic Ballad --....- 40 
 
 The Frazer Fever - 42 
 
 Acrostics -44 
 
 This Picture and That 45 
 
 Lines To 46 
 
 Local Lyrics 47 
 
H 
 
 
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