Down to the Capital
I'BE'N down to the Capital at Washington, D. C.,
Where Congerss meets and passes on the pensions ort to be
Allowed to old one-legged chaps, like me, 'at sence the war
Don't wear their pants in pairs at all — and yit how proud we are!
Old Flukens, from our deestrick, jes' turned in and tuck and made
Me stay with him whilse I was there; and longer 'at I stayed
The more I kep' a-wantin' jes' to kind o' git away,
And yit a-feelin' sociabler with Flukens ever' day.
You see I'd got the idy — and I guess most folks agrees —
'At men as rich as him, you know, kin do jes' what they please;
A man worth stacks o' money, and a Congerssman and all,
And livin' in a buildin' bigger'n Masonic Hall!
Now mind, I'm not a-faultin' Fluke — he made his money square:
We both was Forty-niners, and both bu'sted gittin' there;
I weakened and onwindlassed, and he stuck and stayed and made
His millions; don't know what I'm worth untel my pension's paid.
But I was goin' to tell you — er a-ruther goin' to try
To tell you how he's livin' now: gas burnin' mighty nigh
In ever' room about the house; and ever' night, about,
Some blame reception goin' on, and money goin' out.
They's people there from all the world — jes' ever' kind 'at lives,
Injuns and all! and Senaters, and Ripresentatives;
And girls, you know, jes' dressed in gauze and roses, I de clare,
And even old men shamblin' round and a-waltzin' with 'em there!
And bands a-tootin' circus-tunes, 'way in some other room
Jes' chokin' full o' hothouse plants and pinies and perfume;
And fountains, squirtin' stiddy all the time; and statutes, made
Out o' puore marble, 'peared-like, sneakin' round there in the shade.
And Fluke he coaxed and begged and pled with me to take a hand
And sashay in amongst 'em — crutch and all, you understand;
But when I said how tired I was, and made fer open air,
He follered, and tel five o'clock we set a-talkin' there.
" My God! " says he — Fluke says to me, " I'm tireder'n you;
Don't putt up yer tobacker tel you give a man a chew.
Set back a leetle furder in the shadder — that'll do;
I'm tireder'n you, old man; I'm tireder'n you.
" You see that-air old dome, " says he, " humped up ag'inst the sky?
It's grand, first time you see it; but it changes, by and by,
And then it stays jes' thataway — jes' anchored high and dry
Betwixt the sky up yender and the achin' of yer eye.
" Night's purty; not so purty, though, as what it ust to be
When my first wife was livin'. You remember her? " says he.
I nodded-like, and Fluke went on, " I wonder now ef she
Knows where I am — and what I am — and what I ust to be?
" That band in there! — I ust to think 'at music couldn't wear
A feller out the way it does; but that ain't music there —
That's jes' a' imitation , and like ever'thing, I swear,
I hear, er see, er tetch, er taste, er tackle anywhere!
" It's all jes' artificial , this-'ere high-priced life of ours;
The theory, it's sweet enough, tel it saps down and sours.
They's no home left, ner ties o' home about it. By the powers,
The whole thing's artificialer'n artificial flowers!
" And all I want, and could lay down and sob fer, is to know
The homely things of homely life; fer instance, jes' to go
And set down by the kitchen stove — Lord! that 'u'd rest me so, —
Jes' set there, like I ust to do, and laugh and joke, you know.
" Jes' set there, like I ust to do, " says Fluke, a-startin' in,
'Peared-like, to say the whole thing over to hisse'f ag'in;
Then stopped and turned, and kind o' coughed, and stooped and fumbled fer
Somepin' o' 'nuther in the grass — I guess his handkercher.
Well, sence I'm back from Washington, where I left Fluke a-still
A-leggin' fer me, heart and soul, on that-air pension bill,
I've half-way struck the notion, when I think o' wealth and sich,
They's nothin' much patheticker'n jes' a-bein' rich!
Where Congerss meets and passes on the pensions ort to be
Allowed to old one-legged chaps, like me, 'at sence the war
Don't wear their pants in pairs at all — and yit how proud we are!
Old Flukens, from our deestrick, jes' turned in and tuck and made
Me stay with him whilse I was there; and longer 'at I stayed
The more I kep' a-wantin' jes' to kind o' git away,
And yit a-feelin' sociabler with Flukens ever' day.
You see I'd got the idy — and I guess most folks agrees —
'At men as rich as him, you know, kin do jes' what they please;
A man worth stacks o' money, and a Congerssman and all,
And livin' in a buildin' bigger'n Masonic Hall!
Now mind, I'm not a-faultin' Fluke — he made his money square:
We both was Forty-niners, and both bu'sted gittin' there;
I weakened and onwindlassed, and he stuck and stayed and made
His millions; don't know what I'm worth untel my pension's paid.
But I was goin' to tell you — er a-ruther goin' to try
To tell you how he's livin' now: gas burnin' mighty nigh
In ever' room about the house; and ever' night, about,
Some blame reception goin' on, and money goin' out.
They's people there from all the world — jes' ever' kind 'at lives,
Injuns and all! and Senaters, and Ripresentatives;
And girls, you know, jes' dressed in gauze and roses, I de clare,
And even old men shamblin' round and a-waltzin' with 'em there!
And bands a-tootin' circus-tunes, 'way in some other room
Jes' chokin' full o' hothouse plants and pinies and perfume;
And fountains, squirtin' stiddy all the time; and statutes, made
Out o' puore marble, 'peared-like, sneakin' round there in the shade.
And Fluke he coaxed and begged and pled with me to take a hand
And sashay in amongst 'em — crutch and all, you understand;
But when I said how tired I was, and made fer open air,
He follered, and tel five o'clock we set a-talkin' there.
" My God! " says he — Fluke says to me, " I'm tireder'n you;
Don't putt up yer tobacker tel you give a man a chew.
Set back a leetle furder in the shadder — that'll do;
I'm tireder'n you, old man; I'm tireder'n you.
" You see that-air old dome, " says he, " humped up ag'inst the sky?
It's grand, first time you see it; but it changes, by and by,
And then it stays jes' thataway — jes' anchored high and dry
Betwixt the sky up yender and the achin' of yer eye.
" Night's purty; not so purty, though, as what it ust to be
When my first wife was livin'. You remember her? " says he.
I nodded-like, and Fluke went on, " I wonder now ef she
Knows where I am — and what I am — and what I ust to be?
" That band in there! — I ust to think 'at music couldn't wear
A feller out the way it does; but that ain't music there —
That's jes' a' imitation , and like ever'thing, I swear,
I hear, er see, er tetch, er taste, er tackle anywhere!
" It's all jes' artificial , this-'ere high-priced life of ours;
The theory, it's sweet enough, tel it saps down and sours.
They's no home left, ner ties o' home about it. By the powers,
The whole thing's artificialer'n artificial flowers!
" And all I want, and could lay down and sob fer, is to know
The homely things of homely life; fer instance, jes' to go
And set down by the kitchen stove — Lord! that 'u'd rest me so, —
Jes' set there, like I ust to do, and laugh and joke, you know.
" Jes' set there, like I ust to do, " says Fluke, a-startin' in,
'Peared-like, to say the whole thing over to hisse'f ag'in;
Then stopped and turned, and kind o' coughed, and stooped and fumbled fer
Somepin' o' 'nuther in the grass — I guess his handkercher.
Well, sence I'm back from Washington, where I left Fluke a-still
A-leggin' fer me, heart and soul, on that-air pension bill,
I've half-way struck the notion, when I think o' wealth and sich,
They's nothin' much patheticker'n jes' a-bein' rich!
Translation:
Language:
Reviews
No reviews yet.