A tinder pile where torch of Greed would start a roaring fire.
They rode behind in solemn show and stood around the grave,
Until the coffin sank from sight; and then each jealous knave
Hopped back with great celerity in carriage and in hack,
And folks who saw averred those heirs raced horses going back.
This is no fairy tale, my friend! I’m giving you the facts,
’Tis just an instance where the heirs came round and brought an axe;
Where folks of pretty honest stripe could hardly bear to wait
To decently inter the corpse ere carving the estate;
--All ready at the prayer’s “Amen” to scratch and haul and claw
With nails of jealous rancor and the talons of the law.
My brother, I’ve a notion, that it is sinful pride
When we pose before the heathen as a highly moral guide.
For here in old New England are some capers that would--hush!--
This is strictly on the quiet--put a savage to the blush.
You know that when a savage leaves his rela- tives bereft,
There isn’t any scrapping over what the heathen left.
They bury all his queer stone tools, his arrows and his bow,
They stuff his pack with grub for snack; put in his wampum “dough;”
They kill his horse and slay his dog and then they sing a song,
And kill off all his weeping wives and send them right along.
There’s no annoying probate court, no long, litigious fuss,
No lawyer’s fees, no family row, no will-de- stroying cuss.
The estate is executed in a brisk and thorough style
And though some certain features suit all right a heathen isle,
Some squeamish person might arise and prop- erly complain
There’s too much execution for adoption here in Maine.
So I’ll not commend the custom, yet I firmly will abide
In the notion that we have no right to pose as moral guide
To the heathen; for it’s evident, untutored though they are,
The heirs at least show manners in Borrioboola Gha.
_(Sing hey! for the wind among his whiskers)_,
Saw curious “dewin’s” while he was down there
‘Mongst the gamblers, the sports and the frisk- ers.
He carried his bills in a wallet laid flat--
An old-fashioned calf-skin as black as your hat;
He was feeling so well he was easy to touch-- Then he hadn’t as much; no, there wasn’t as much.
He noticed a crowd’round a pleasant-faced man
Whose business seemed based on a curious plan; He asked for a quarter from each in the crowd, Put the coin in his hat, and he forthwith al- lowed