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 | City Festivals |  |
105
THE GIANT'S STORY.
The giant business isn't the thing at all
It used to be when I was somewhat small;
It's overdone, like every honest labor,
For any one an inch above his neighbor,
Tries hard to stretch to revenue-drawing length,
And coin up all his surplus into strength.
“Don't try it” is three words of good advice;
A giant earns his living over twice!
It used to be when I was somewhat small;
It's overdone, like every honest labor,
For any one an inch above his neighbor,
Tries hard to stretch to revenue-drawing length,
And coin up all his surplus into strength.
“Don't try it” is three words of good advice;
A giant earns his living over twice!
We have to stand and let the gaping crowd
Stare like a clock, and think of us out loud,
And ask us questions 'bout ourselves, till I
For one, am almost half-inclined to lie!
They grin us down with manners unrestrained,
Like as they would an elephant that's chained;
And every similar way they try to guide us,
Except to feed us peanuts and to ride us.
Stare like a clock, and think of us out loud,
And ask us questions 'bout ourselves, till I
For one, am almost half-inclined to lie!
They grin us down with manners unrestrained,
Like as they would an elephant that's chained;
And every similar way they try to guide us,
Except to feed us peanuts and to ride us.
They ask us if the bulk in us they see,
Descended to us with our pedigree;
If when we're sick we suffer greater-wise
Than people of the regulation size;
How much per day or week our landlords charge;
If all our family are likewise large;
Being five times heavier than most human earth,
If we weighed forty-five pounds at our birth;
And other things, which, like domestic strife,
Look better in the depths of private life.
They make of every day a burden fresh,
A hundred times as weighty as our flesh.
Descended to us with our pedigree;
If when we're sick we suffer greater-wise
Than people of the regulation size;
How much per day or week our landlords charge;
If all our family are likewise large;
Being five times heavier than most human earth,
If we weighed forty-five pounds at our birth;
And other things, which, like domestic strife,
Look better in the depths of private life.
They make of every day a burden fresh,
A hundred times as weighty as our flesh.
They watch us when we walk to get the air,
The shouting kids pursue us everywhere;
They ask us if we still are growing tall;
How it affects things round us when we fall;
They play us tricks of different size and shape,
Then, dodging deftly 'twixt our legs, escape;
They ask is our maternal friend aware
That we have stepped into the open air;
And so we inconvenient hours must keep,
And walk at night, like people in their sleep.
The shouting kids pursue us everywhere;
They ask us if we still are growing tall;
How it affects things round us when we fall;
They play us tricks of different size and shape,
Then, dodging deftly 'twixt our legs, escape;
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That we have stepped into the open air;
And so we inconvenient hours must keep,
And walk at night, like people in their sleep.
But one of us, I always recollect,
Who made all people treat her with respect;
Her waist was fully fifteen feet around,
Her exhibition-weight six hundred pound.
And her home-heft, unpadded and sincere,
Would crowd five hundred, pretty middling near.
Who made all people treat her with respect;
Her waist was fully fifteen feet around,
Her exhibition-weight six hundred pound.
And her home-heft, unpadded and sincere,
Would crowd five hundred, pretty middling near.
Though any chair she used, couldn't have a more
Unpaying contract than to guard the floor,
You never saw a form with willing grace,
You never saw a classic-moulded face,
You never saw a dame of high degree,
With any more true dignity than she;
There's only one man who, I ever heard,
Had cheek to give her an uncivil word;
And he ('tis hard that matters should go on so)
Was just the person that should not have done so.
Unpaying contract than to guard the floor,
You never saw a form with willing grace,
You never saw a classic-moulded face,
You never saw a dame of high degree,
With any more true dignity than she;
There's only one man who, I ever heard,
Had cheek to give her an uncivil word;
And he ('tis hard that matters should go on so)
Was just the person that should not have done so.
I loved her—ain't ashamed to say it now;
She didn't me—God bless her, anyhow!
She had more solid sunshine in her eye,
Than I've discovered so far in the sky;
She held more information in her looks,
Than ever I have found in all the books;
She had more sympathy in voice and touch,
Than many folks who weighed a fifth as much!
She didn't me—God bless her, anyhow!
She had more solid sunshine in her eye,
Than I've discovered so far in the sky;
She held more information in her looks,
Than ever I have found in all the books;
She had more sympathy in voice and touch,
Than many folks who weighed a fifth as much!
I loved her—ain't ashamed to say it now;
She didn't me—God bless her, anyhow!
She had more solid sunshine in her eye,
Than I've discovered so far in the sky;
She held more information in her looks,
Than ever I have found in all the books;
She had more sympathy in voice and touch,
Than many folks who weighed a fifth as much!
She didn't me—God bless her, anyhow!
She had more solid sunshine in her eye,
Than I've discovered so far in the sky;
She held more information in her looks,
Than ever I have found in all the books;
She had more sympathy in voice and touch,
Than many folks who weighed a fifth as much!
I loved her—ain't ashamed to say it now;
She didn't me—God bless her, anyhow!
Perhaps she thought that happiness wouldn't seek
A family that contained too much physique;
Perhaps she let sweet pity get the start,
And found her judgment cornered by her heart;
I won't decide; I only know she strewed
Her young affections on a skeleton dude.
(I came near, in the midst of my dejection,
To breaking every bone in his collection!)
She didn't me—God bless her, anyhow!
Perhaps she thought that happiness wouldn't seek
A family that contained too much physique;
Perhaps she let sweet pity get the start,
And found her judgment cornered by her heart;
I won't decide; I only know she strewed
Her young affections on a skeleton dude.
107
To breaking every bone in his collection!)
Heaven help her, then! he just let fly his growth,
And made her earn a living for them both!
He took to drinking, with enthusiasm fresh,
And didn't take any pains to curb his flesh;
And bigger every day he steady grew,
Until he hadn't a single rib in view
(Except his wife; and she'd grown thin and gray
If business matters hadn't stood in the way).
And made her earn a living for them both!
He took to drinking, with enthusiasm fresh,
And didn't take any pains to curb his flesh;
And bigger every day he steady grew,
Until he hadn't a single rib in view
(Except his wife; and she'd grown thin and gray
If business matters hadn't stood in the way).
Now each new pound of meat the scamp displayed,
Was so much money chipped off from his trade;
Each inch diminished his professional art,
And piled lead in the poor fat lady's heart.
And she'd have pined away, she was so blue,
If only she could have afforded to.
Was so much money chipped off from his trade;
Each inch diminished his professional art,
And piled lead in the poor fat lady's heart.
And she'd have pined away, she was so blue,
If only she could have afforded to.
Of course, the meaner that the scamp became,
The more she loved him (they are all the same,
Little or big), and he put up some new
Mean specialty for every breath he drew;
And soon became, as any one could see,
A large museum of what he shouldn't be.
The more she loved him (they are all the same,
Little or big), and he put up some new
Mean specialty for every breath he drew;
And soon became, as any one could see,
A large museum of what he shouldn't be.
Heaven help her, then! it's hard enough, I know,
For light-built folks to stand up under woe;
But 'tisn't every one that has to bear
Five hundred pounds of sorrow, in a chair.
It weighed upon my sweet and scornful friend,
Until the floor-planks almost seemed to bend;
But if true pity could have brought her round,
She wouldn't have tipped the scales at twenty pound.
Still, she in her own manner pined away,
And grew a little heavier every day.
For light-built folks to stand up under woe;
But 'tisn't every one that has to bear
Five hundred pounds of sorrow, in a chair.
It weighed upon my sweet and scornful friend,
Until the floor-planks almost seemed to bend;
But if true pity could have brought her round,
She wouldn't have tipped the scales at twenty pound.
Still, she in her own manner pined away,
And grew a little heavier every day.
This dude dove into every sort of sin,
And lined his skeleton outside and in;
Supported by his wife's industrious toil—
Oh, the scamp's coolness fairly made me boil!
It's very hard for any man that's human,
To see another man abuse a woman;
But awful hard his righteous rage to smother,
It's, when he hates the one and loves the other!
And lined his skeleton outside and in;
108
Oh, the scamp's coolness fairly made me boil!
It's very hard for any man that's human,
To see another man abuse a woman;
But awful hard his righteous rage to smother,
It's, when he hates the one and loves the other!
Till finally, one day, I spied a mark
Upon her neck—all swollen 'twas and dark;
And then I saw her sweet and mournful eyes
Were swelled with tears to half their usual size
(And her face being too large for actual need,
It made the eyes look very small, indeed);
And then I knew, what galls me in repeating:
He'd given his angel wife a first-class beating;
He'd struck and kicked her—fiends in fury lodge him!—
And she, being somewhat bulky, couldn't dodge him!
Upon her neck—all swollen 'twas and dark;
And then I saw her sweet and mournful eyes
Were swelled with tears to half their usual size
(And her face being too large for actual need,
It made the eyes look very small, indeed);
And then I knew, what galls me in repeating:
He'd given his angel wife a first-class beating;
He'd struck and kicked her—fiends in fury lodge him!—
And she, being somewhat bulky, couldn't dodge him!
Murder was out; and nothing that could screen it—
I saw it all as plain as if I'd seen it!
And next time he nipped past my standing-station,
Strutting as if he owned the whole creation,
And the museum, and all the freaks there were—
Especially the body and soul of HER—
The hot steam of my hate grew so much stronger,
I couldn't endure the pressure any longer;
I collared him, spite of his puny groans,
And nearly shook the new flesh off his bones.
I saw it all as plain as if I'd seen it!
And next time he nipped past my standing-station,
Strutting as if he owned the whole creation,
And the museum, and all the freaks there were—
Especially the body and soul of HER—
The hot steam of my hate grew so much stronger,
I couldn't endure the pressure any longer;
I collared him, spite of his puny groans,
And nearly shook the new flesh off his bones.
It made an interesting war-excitement,
Although the dude fool did not know what fight meant;
He limbered in—the little coward elf—
As if I was old giant Despair himself;
His heels flew up and nearly ripped in half
The sewed seams of the double-headed calf;
He hit the rope that strangled out the life
Of John J. Strong—the dude who killed his wife;
He broke a show-case, and brought down to grief
The handcuffs of a celebrated thief;
He struck, and to the floor in ruins carried
A hung-up skeleton that wasn't married;
He made the monkeys' cage a casual call,
And furnished new excitement for them all;
He made a tune-box 'cross the room to roam,
That happened to be playing “Home, sweet Home;”
He sudden ran against, before he saw,
A Tipperary Injun and his squaw
(Whose savage souls straightway within them burned,
And so the greeting promptly was returned);
In short, being then in fair athletic trim,
I kicked the whole establishment with him.
Although the dude fool did not know what fight meant;
He limbered in—the little coward elf—
As if I was old giant Despair himself;
His heels flew up and nearly ripped in half
The sewed seams of the double-headed calf;
He hit the rope that strangled out the life
Of John J. Strong—the dude who killed his wife;
He broke a show-case, and brought down to grief
The handcuffs of a celebrated thief;
111
A hung-up skeleton that wasn't married;
He made the monkeys' cage a casual call,
And furnished new excitement for them all;
He made a tune-box 'cross the room to roam,
That happened to be playing “Home, sweet Home;”
He sudden ran against, before he saw,
A Tipperary Injun and his squaw
(Whose savage souls straightway within them burned,
And so the greeting promptly was returned);
In short, being then in fair athletic trim,
I kicked the whole establishment with him.
The strangest part of all I now must say,
And, stranger still, it's generally that way:
This fellow's wife, that he'd used like a drum,
And marched her full half-way to kingdom come,
Defended him! And fell on me unbid
(And that meant something, weighing what she did),
And clapper-clawed me, till, she being done,
I had some thirteen bruises to her one.
(The dude stood by and saw this last occur—
Sponged even his vengeance on me out of her.)
And, stranger still, it's generally that way:
This fellow's wife, that he'd used like a drum,
And marched her full half-way to kingdom come,
Defended him! And fell on me unbid
(And that meant something, weighing what she did),
And clapper-clawed me, till, she being done,
I had some thirteen bruises to her one.
(The dude stood by and saw this last occur—
Sponged even his vengeance on me out of her.)
In spite of all my rage and want of care,
He didn't seem a bit the worse for wear;
And made the judge believe 'twas all my fault,
And chuckled when they fined me for assault;
And his nibs said, “There's pity in this court
For one with such a large wife to support.”
He didn't seem a bit the worse for wear;
And made the judge believe 'twas all my fault,
And chuckled when they fined me for assault;
And his nibs said, “There's pity in this court
For one with such a large wife to support.”
She died, a few years later than this row;
Died loving him—Heaven bless her, anyhow!
Lecturer.
Died loving him—Heaven bless her, anyhow!
Now let Whale-oil Jim be heard
In a little lyric word.
112
sings:
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