Page:Atlantis Arisen.djvu/71

Rh Of the winding Wallametta,

Which I sing—and say it surely

As the jingling Juniata

Sounds as well; but 'tis unpretty,

Poets of the sunset sea-rim

Flying off to Acropolis—

Very absurd it is, and silly—

While the glassy Umatilla,

And the classic Longus Thomas,

And the grassy Tuda-Willa,

All do flash and flow before us.

Well, my hero Kamiakin

Was in love; you know such folly

Must go in, or something's lacking

In all great, good rhymes emetic.

Now, she dwelt in Walla Walla;

But her ma was awful stuck up;

And her pious dad, ascetic,

'Gainst our hero got his back up;

And he swore on stacks of Bibles,

Higher than the hay you stack up.

He would sue for breaches, libels;

He would sue him, shoot him, boot him—

That, in fact, he didn't suit him—

Didn't vote the proper ticket.

Now, it cost him like the nation

Going from the land of cider

(You know how these Navigation

Fellows charge a horse and rider);

And, though he was law-abiding,

To be treated thus about her

He declared was rather binding,

And that he wouldn't go without her.

So he strode a cayuse charger

With white eyes, also white as

Foam of creamy, dreamy lager

From her nostrils to her caudle;

With a woolly sheepskin folding

Back behind his jockey saddle,

Where the girl could ride by holding.