Page:The Poets and Poetry of the West.djvu/272

 256 JAMES W. WARD. [I80U-40. HIGHER-WATER. In the town where swine are slaughtered, Slaughtered, pickled, and exported, Where the sti-eets — at least 'tis thought so By the sparkling wits of Gotham — Where the streets with blazing pig-tails, Dancing round like jack-o'-lanterns, Brightly are illumined nightly • — Saving on those dull nights, only. By the calendar computtd, When by average calculation 'Tis the lawful turn of moonshine — Where the Champagne will be Long worth More than Sillery or Heidsick — Where the churches, meek as Moses, Have, as Moses had his Aaron, Steeples tall to hold their hands up ; — Where the people all are pious, And the hams are not West failures ;— In the city, standing queenly. Queenly standing, young and giddy. On the banks of 0-pe-he-le, 0-pe-he-Ie, tickle river. River never stationary, Up to-day, and down to-morrow ; Like the bonds of tardy railroads. Changing monthly, changing hourly : — In the city where the cut-throats, Flourishing their knives and cleavers, March in fierce processions yearly ; There, reader, fair and learned, There occurred, if you'll believe it, What I now am going to tell you ; What I now have come to tell you. In the city that I spoke of. In the town of swine and slaughter. Where, for art is young and artless, Beauty's line's a twisted pig-tail — • On the landing, where the steamboats Stop for spai'e-ribs and for whisky ; On the landing, broad and spacious. Stands a block of ancient buildings, Buildings long to fame familiar ; Buildings wholly dedicated. Dedicated, let me tell you. Wholly unto love, believe me, Love and sausages entirely ; Drake could tell you all about it. Drake, great Drake, great Alexander, He could sing it, he could tell it, Tell you sweetly all about it. I, with that must not detain you. But must hasten to conduct you, confiding, trustful reader. To the basement of the building. To the basement dark and dismal. To the vaults and caves beneath it. To the Hob-o-nobs, the rat-holes ; Where are found the bidden mansions, Hidden cunningly and shi-ewdly, Past all human search or brutal. Mansions snug and warm and ample, Of the terrible, the fearful. The indomitable Scag-rag, Scag-rag, dreadful king of Wharf-rats. There Fitz-ou-me-ou, the tom-cat. Nor Ta-bi-a-tha, the noiseless. Neither Snar-ley-on, the dog-fiend, Nor the terrier, Fiz-zeg-iz-zy, Could with all their craft and cunuing, All their snufSng, all their nosing. All their creeping, all their prying. All their digging, all their scratching — ■ Find a passage to the entrauce. Find an entrance to the passage. That would lead them to the chambers Of the grand and grizzly Scag-rag. Scag-rag, fearful king of Wharf-rats. Huge and whiskered king of big rats. The poet describes the realms of Scag-rag and how he was informed by his daughter of threatened danger — how he boldly defied Higher-water, and then — Higher-water, swelling proudly. Proudly swelling down the valley, On the white wave he descended. On 0-wah-te-paw, the white wave. With him came the whirling eddies. Came with him Ker-chunk, the big stump, Came the rolling logs, 0-wah-sis, Came the snags, the Jag-ger-nag-gers, Came Sca-wot-che-te, the drift-wood, Came Ka-ric-kc-ty, the fence-rails. Came the corn-stalks, came the bark-wood, Came a pitching mass of plunder, Big sticks, little sticks, and shavings. Swimming, driving, butting, pitching ; Rolling, piling, thumping, smashing. Heaving, tumbling, spinning, crashing, Hither, thither, this side, that side — What confusion, what a tumult,