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Title: Farmer Stebbins Ahead
Author: Will Carleton [
More Titles by Carleton]
DEAR COUSIN JOHN:
I'm very glad you sent that money through,
By Cousin Seth, an' not by mail, as I requested you!
The fam'ly's just so much ahead: 'twere best it never came.
If Jeroboam Jones had twined his fingers 'round the same.
For that young man has principles fit only to abhor,
And isn't the kind of relative that I was lookin' for!
My sakes! Millennium's nowhere near, when men so false can be
As to equivocate themselves into my family tree;
An' on its honest branches graft the shoots of their design,
An' make me think they're good because they're relatives of mine;
While under those fraternal smiles a robber's frown is hid;
But that's the inappropriate thing that Jeroboam did!
When Cousin Seth the tavern reached whose clerk o'ershadows me,
He cried, "Where is my long-lost son I've come so far to see?"
An' so, to fill that father's heart with resurrected joy,
I twisted 'round with him a bit, to try an' find the boy;
An' comin' where I had the luck that hymn-book for to win,
I opened quietly the door, an' both of us went in.
The Superintendent still was there; he gave a little start,
But welcomed us, apparently, with overflowin' heart;
An' told us all about the work, an' how 'twas gettin' on,
An' how much money those who gave unto the cause had won;
But Cousin Seth, though much impressed with what he heard an' saw,
Said he didn't fix the envelopes, an' b'lieved he wouldn't draw.
Just then the door was opened quick, an' with a solemn grin,
Young Jeroboam Jones appeared, an' sidled softly in;
An' with him was an older man, who looked enough like me
To've been a reg'lar Stebbins too, so far as one could see;
But slappin' Seth upon the back, I said, "My duty's done,
For this is Jeroboam Jones, your long-lost oldest son!"
"My 'long-lost oldest son?'" said he: "he's 'bout as much my son
As you are the belovèd babe of Gen'ral Washington!
It strikes me that my married life was very much amiss,
If I'm responsible for such a sneakin' face as this!
He's blinded you by his supposed relationship to me:
He's no one I have ever seen, or ever want to see!"
As when a fog above a field the sudden breezes tore,
You spied a thousand things you did not even miss before,
So all the facts of this affair, as clear as summer skies,
Straightway arranged themselves before my reconstructed eyes:
That these were not veracious men; an' this no Sunday-school;
An' naught was what it seemed, except one old bald-headed fool!
I held those two deceivers out, with unassisted strength,
An' by the collar shook each one to my arm's farthest length;
They gasped an' danced an' skipped around, without a word to say--
They "put their heads together" in a new an' painful way.
"Due ninety dollars fifty cents, an' not a penny less!"
I shouted; "an' I'll send you back your hymn-book by express!"
When finally in my discourse a breathin' pause occurred,
The Superintendent counted out the cash, without a word;
Which, with a manner dignified, I coldly repossessed,
An', still retainin' Jeroboam, that scamp I thus addressed:
"An' so you are the bogus friend and relative, so free
To spend his time a-makin' fools of poor old men like me.
"I'm Supervisor of the town where I have lived so long:
There ain't a man in all that part will say I've done him wrong;
There ain't a man will claim but what I'm ordinary keen;
But when I plant myself in town, I grow exceedin' green.
An' any kind-expressioned man, who acts a civil part,
Can always find my soul to home, an' house-room in my heart.
"It's sad for such a smile as yours to find so mean a fate;
An' there's some good in you--at least enough to use for bait;
Without some kindness in your heart, you couldn't have landed me;
An' as to how you've used your gifts, just pause a bit an' see.
I've gambled, by you're callin' it a charitable name,
And my self-valuation sunk with unaccustomed shame.
"I've done what I'd have whipped my boys for even lookin' at;
An' don't suppose but what I own part of the blame for that;
I thought I saw a chance to make five dollars out o' one,
Which, with strict justice all around, is very seldom done.
But up to that outrageous point, remember, I was led
By your assumed relationship, an' several things you said.
"Do you reflect, young man, upon the fruit you're growin' to?
There's prison gates a-waitin' now to stand in front of you.
There's grief of unexpected kinds, an' every sort of shame,
To send you some time from this world much poorer than you came.
Your guilty head you hang before us sinners standin' by:
What angle do you s'pose 'twould take 'mongst angels in the sky?
[Illustration: "THEY 'PUT THEIR HEADS TOGETHER' IN A NEW AN' PAINFUL WAY."]
"There's hope e'en on the death-bed for a square, straightforward thief,
But Judases have always come to most peculiar grief;
The Lord has pity, I suppose, for errin' men an' weak,
But no good satisfact'ry place in which to put a sneak.
An' when a man wins men's esteem, then thrives by their mistakes,
He makes himself a bigger fool than all the fools he makes."
[Illustration: "HE MAKES HIMSELF A BIGGER FOOL THAN ALL THE FOOLS HE MAKES."]
Then my adopted relative I seated in a chair,
With amply necessary help, an' sev'ral pounds to spare.
Then Seth an' I with dignity bade both the scamps good-day,
Advisin' them to gain their bread in some dissimilar way;
An' as we thundered down the stairs, with heavy rural tread,
I felt that I'd at last come out some several rods ahead.
A. S.
[The end]
Will Carleton's poem: Farmer Stebbins Ahead
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