Wright Huntington

A dashin’ chap, thet Huntington, a likely feller, tew;

Ez good an actor ez yew’ll fin’ the hull blame kentry threw.

An’ ez a hero uv the sort thet takes a woman’s eye,

A hansomer one hez never made a villain hiss or die.

Sports a deefrunt set uv names uv course, a bizniz scheme I ween,

But I’ll jest show the feller up so yew’ll know what I mean.

Some calls him Jack, some calls him Wright, some calls him Huntington,

Some calls him Silliman I s’pose, an’ some jest simply John.

Ez John we know him here tur home, here in the kentry, where

He comes when he ain’t actin’, fur a rest an’ healthy air;

An’ we wait an’ wait each summer, tryin’ tur gulp impatience down,

An’ we make a demonstration when our Johnny comes tur town;

Fur yew see he takes us fishin’, an’ he tells us funny yarns,

He lets us try his bysickle, an’ never “dams” nur “darns”;

An' everybody is his fren’ frum great gran’father down;

So we make a demonstration when our Johnny comes tur town.

How well I reckolict one night not many years ago,

I missed the train at Hartford so I staid tur see the show,

‘Twuz “Span Uv Life”, an’ thinks ez I, if it is ha’f ez fair

Ez what the posters says it is I’ll risk a quarter there.

An’ so I staid. The openin’ frills warn’t on’y commonplace;

A gal perhaps a dustin’ cheers, or settin’ up a vase.

But by an’ by the hero come, the star, a handsome chap,

A-packin’ on a theeter gun, with boots an’ huntin’ cap.

“By jove,” says I, “I know his face,” then thought agin warn’t so,

But jest ez soon ez he let out, “thet’s John,” says I, “I know.”

The feller front he turned aroun’, a wry expression on,

“Look on yewr program, man,” says he, “thet’s Wright, Wright Huntington.”

“Thet’s what I said, you bloomin’ fool, it’s John I guess I know!

But I ain’t here tur arger man, I come tur see the show.”

An’ then I lost all other things fur John wuz gittin’ caught

Within the villain’s clutches an’ ‘twuz time tur help I thought.

Wall sir, I waded in, an’ when John wuz a goin’ tur lick,

I yelled “hooray”, an’ some darn fool he hushed me mighty quick.

“I’z on’y helpin’ John,” says I, “who Delmore wants tur kill,”

“Ef yew want tur see the show,” says he, “you’d better jest keep still.”

But jest the same I stamped an’ clapped when John laid low the rat,

An' when the villain won I cissed like mother’s ol’ she cat.

But by an’ by the fight wuz done, an’ Delmore got his pay,

An’ John come out ‘ithout a scratch an’ is alive turday.

 O, I love tur go tur theeters, an’ see a lively show;

 I love the pretty soubrette maid, who smiles an’ capers so.

 I love the tramp uv armies, an’ tur see ‘em fight with swords;

 I love to see the villains die an’ heroes git rewards.

 In Gungawamp we never hev a really bang-up show

 But when we go tur town yew’ll fin’ us in the foremost row.

 We love the actors, bless their hearts, frum Henry Irving down,

 An’ thet is why we demonstrate when Johnny comes to town.

      Nov. 22, ‘95   

      Pub. in the Easter Number,

      New York Dramatic News,     

      April 4, ‘96

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