There
is a set of fellows whom
I’d
like to see in one big room;
All
seated roun’ a table big
A-bendin’
‘neath a roasted pig.
A
merry gatherin’ it would be,
Chock
full uv wit an’ jollity.
The
seat of honor would be for
That
generous, smilin’ editor.
An’
all the scribes for once would meet
With
face to face and feet to feet.
And
scattered down each side would be
Each
Advertiser employee.
An’
as for toasts, responses, jokes,
Good
looks, refined and brainy folks,
Mc’
Allister’s selectest lot
Would
be outdid an’ clean forgot.
An’
every scribe would hev to set
Accordin’
to the alphabet.
The
A’s an’ B’s an’ C’s an’ D’s,
An’
so on to the X. Y. Z’s.
An’
then no feelin’s sour or bad
Regardin’
places could be had.
The
editor would make the toast,
(An’
eat it if he wan’t eyed clost).
Responses
then, defarrin’ gibe,
Would
come from every smiling scribe.
Colchester
on the right would start,
Then
Centerbrook would do his part.
An’
after Clinton had his time,
Ol’
Chester would bus’ forth in rhyme.
Deep
River nex’ would hev his say,
Then
Essex would begin to play.
Eas’
Hampton an’ Eas’ Haddam then,
Would
go it like Knights uv the pen.
Then
Guilford, Haddam, Haddam Neck,
Would
orate with great respec’.
An’
Hebron, Hadlyme, Higganum
Would
rise an’ say they’s glad to come.
Then
Hamburg nex’ an’ Ivoryton,
Would
keep on addin’ to the fun.
With
Killingworth an’ Leesville done
The
floor would be for Madison.
New
London an’ Niantic then,
Chuck
full of salty oxygen,
Would
take the floor before North Lyme;
Then
North Westchester’d hev his time.
Ol’
Sybrook nex’ then Shailerville
Would
laud the uses uv the quill.
An’
arter Tylerville wus cheered
Westchester’s
voice would then be heerd.
An’
arter him Westbrook would find
A
chance to ease his toasted mind.
An’
Winthrop la’, but not the least,
Would
end the speeches uv the feast.
An’
now I think the list complete
Accordin’
to poetic feet.
If
any scribes are left frum it
It’
cuz they hevn’t lately writ.
An’
if this feast should come about,
The
poets musn’t be left out.
But
I dunno how it would be,
It
hain’t but jes’ occurred to me, –
An’
kind uv sets my hopes a dimmin’
Thet
mebbe ha’f the scribes are wimmin’.
March
25, 1892
Pub.
in Ct. Valley Ad. –
May
7, ‘92
Connecticut Valley advertiser. (Moodus, Conn.) 1872-1929 -
http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn84022391/
1827 – January 31, 1895) was the self-appointed arbiter of New York society from the 1860s to the early 1890s.
1827 – January 31, 1895) was the self-appointed arbiter of New York society from the 1860s to the early 1890s.
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