A Print Shop Incident.
AN old typographical error__
One of the old-fashioned school__
With the old-fashioned stagger,
The stoop-shouldered swagger,
Sat there on the rickety stool.
He'd "hoofed it clean in from Salina,"
He said, with a make-believe cheer;
But there rasped in his throat
A corn-husky note,
'Twas truly pathetic to hear.
So over we went to the Red-Light
To let the Rum Fiend do its worst;
For an image of wood
Most assuredly could
Not withstand such an eloquent thirst.
Some wandering Corsican minstrels
By the door played their plankety plinks;
He heeded them not,
But sped to the spot
Where Cholly was doling the drinks.
Perhaps you have seen an ecstatic
Delirious bliss in the face
Of a man who's in love,
As he prances above
The low earthy joys of his race;
Perhaps you've seen pictures of halos
O'er transported features of saints;
Or looked when she smiled
In her sleep at a child
For whom heaven's own artist paints.
Well, if you've seen such an expression
You've an idea then, like as not,
How his face lighted up
As he dropped the tin cup
When the liquor got down to the spot.
He rolled his eyes wistfully doorward;
With his hand wiped the liquor away,
And said in a low,
Quiet voice: "Let us go
Out an' hear them 'ere eyetalics play."
The standard of morals was low then,
Before the descent of St. John;
And a man got his rank
From the size of his tank,
And the number of drinks he had on.
And so when I dream of a heaven,
I think of a place where they say:
"That's the stuff; ain't it though ?
Now come on an' le's go
Out an' hear them dang eyetalics play."
__William Allen White.