University of Virginia Library


1

THE RISE AND FALL OF GLORYVILLE.

Where the rockiest Rocky Mountains interview the scornful skies,
And the sager kinds of sage-bush in the middle distance rise,
There the cultured eye descending from the dream-like azure hill,
Lights in an æsthetic foreground on the town of Gloryville.

2

It was in the Middle Ages—'bout the end of Sixty-eight,
So I found the hoary legend written on an ancient slate—
That one Ezry Jenks prospecting, when he reached this blooming spot,
Thus uplifted to his pardner: “Glory! Moses, let us squat!”
Thus rebounded Moses Adams: “Glory was the foremost word
Which in the untrammelled silence of this wilderness was heard,
And I arnswer, dimly feelin' like a prophet, grand and slow,
‘Glory kinder sounds like Money—up to glory let her go!’”
And this casual conversation in the year of Sixty-eight,
As if by an inspiration he recorded on a slate,
Which 't was said in later ages—six weeks after—used to hang
As a curiositary in the principal shebang.
On the spot that very evening they perceived a beauteous gleam

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From a grain of shining metal in a wild auriferous stream:
As their eyes remarked the symptom thus their tongues responsive spoke:
“In this undiscovered section there is pay-dirt, sure as smoke!”

4

Little boots or little shoes it to inform you how like crows
To a carcase, folks came flying, and the town of Glory rose;
As in country schools the urchins cast each one a spittle-ball,
Till at last a monstrous paper fungus gathers on the wall.
'Long the road they built their cabins, in a vis-a-visual way,
As if each man to his neighbour kind of wished to have his say;
But 't was also said that like two rows of teeth the houses grew,
Threatening uncommon danger to the stranger passing through.
Yes, for like the note of freedom sounded on Hibernia's harp,
Every person in the party was a most uncommon sharp;
And it got to be a saying that from such an ornery cuss
As a regular Gloryvillin—oh, good Law deliver us!
First of all the pay-dirt vanished or became uncommon rare,

5

Then they wandered more than ever to the Cross and from the Square,
Since when all resources failed them nary copper did they mind,
For they had fine-answering Genius, which is never left behind.
So they got incopperated as a city fair and grand,
Spreading memoirs of their splendour over many a distant land,
Mind I say in distant places—people near them never knew
Into what unearthly beauty the great town of Glory grew.
Then they sent an ex-tra Governor over seas and far beyond,
Even unto distant Holland, loaded up with many a bond,
Splendidly engraved in London, having just the proper touch;
Quite imposing—rather—for they did impose upon the Dutch.
And with every bond the Governor had a picture to bestow
Of the town of Gloryville a-bathing in the sunset's glow;

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This they had performed in Paris by an artist full of cheek,
Who was told to draw a city comme il faut dans l'Amérique.
The ideas of this artist were idead from long ago,
Out of scenery in an opera, “Cortez in the Mexico.”
Therefore all his work expanded with expensive fallacies:
Castles, towered walls, pavilions, real-estately palaces.
In the foreground lofty palm-trees, as if full of soaring love,
Bore up cocoa-nuts and monkeys to the smiling heaven above;
Jet-black Indian chieftains, at their feet, too, lovely girls were sighin',
With an elephant beyond them—here and there a casual lion.
You have seen in “Pilgrim's Progress” the Celestial City stand
Like a hub in half a cart-wheel raying light o'er all the land.
Well, in that, it is the felloes of the wheel which cause the blaze,
So in Gloryville the fellows were the ones who made the rays.

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When these views were well matured the Governor went to Amsterdam,
Where to Mynheer Schmuel Ganef first of all he made his slam,
At a glance each “saw” the other—at a glance they went aside,
And without a word of bother soon the plan was cut and dried.
For one hundred thousand dollars then the Governor at will
Gave away the full fee-simple of the town of Gloryville.
“Dat for you,” said Schmuel Ganef, “is, I dink, not much too much,
But I makesh de shtock a million ven I sells him to the Dutch.”
And the secret of his selling was upon the artful plan
Known to the police in Paris as the vol Américain,
Whereby he who does the spilling manages the man who 's spilt
Very nicely, for he makes him an accomplice in the guilt.
Even as of old great sages managed the Parisian fonds,

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So in Amsterdam Heer Ganef peddled out his Glory bonds;
And to all he slyly whispered, “I vill let you in de first
On de ground floor—sell out quickly—for you know de ding may burst.”
Woe to you who live by thieving, though you be of rogues the chief,
Even the greatest will discover in due time his master-thief.
True, he “let them in,” and truly on the very bottom floor,
But was with the Gloryvillins in the cellar long before.

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And to tell you how the biters all got bitten were in vain;
Here the Governor leaves my story, and he comes not in again.
I will pass to later ages, when all Gloryville, you bet,
Found itself extreme encumbered with an extra booming debt.
Those who sold the bonds had vanished, those who hadn't held the town,
Little knew they of its glory over seas or great renown.
They had nothing of the fruitage, though, alas! they held the plant,
Nothing saw they of the picture, save, indeed, the Elephant.
He who had been in the background now came trampling to the fore,
Terribly he trampled on them, very awful was his roar!
Very dreadful is the silence when no human voice responds
To a legal requisition for the interest of our bonds
But ere long a shrewd reflection unto Moses Adams came—

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“Darned ef I'm a-gwine to suffer fur another party's game;
Wings is given to muskeeters—like muskeeters men can fly;
Ef a strawberry-vine can travel with its roots, then why not I?”
Silently, in secret, Moses to himself a plan reveals,
Got a three-inch plank and sawed it into surreptitious wheels,

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And when night in solemn mystery had succeeded unto day,
Put his hut and things on axles, and quite lonely drove away
To a place just over yonder by the old Coyote Road;
There, no more a man of glory, Moses Adams dropped his load,
And when resting from his labour and refreshing from his jug,
Having known a town called Julesberg, called his shanty Splendourbug.
On the following morn as usual in due time arose the sun,
And the Gloryvillins followed his example, one by one,
While he smiled upon the city, as on other things beneath,
'T was observed one snag was wanting in the double row of teeth.
Little said the Left-behinders, but they seemed to take the hint,
And each man surveyed his neighbour with a shrewd and genial squint;

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All day long there was a sound of sawing timber up and down,
Seven more houses in the morning were a-wanting in the town.
And before the week departed all the town departed too,
Just like swallows in the autumn to another soil they flew;
Only that unlike the swallows which we hear of in the song,
When the Gloryvillins squandered each one took his nest along.
All except one ancient darkey, obstinate and blind and lame,
Who for want of wheels and credit could not follow up the game,
So the others had to leave him, which they did without regret,
Left him there without a copper—just one million deep in debt.
If you seek them you may find them comfortable as in a rug,
All of them at length established in the town of Splendourbug,

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And the driver to the traveller as by Gloryville he goes,
Points him out an ancient darkey who a million dollars owes.