University of Virginia Library

previous section A little book of tribune verse
next section
217

MAUD MULLER.

Miss Muller, so the gossips say,
Flirted in quite a shameless way;
But Maud, with a laugh, pronounced it fudge,
Yet we caught her wink at the ratty Judge.
And the Judge, but we mention this sub rose,
Blushed up to the roots of his bulbous nose.
Still, he craned his neck and in passing by,
Gave a sinister wink with his dexter eye.
Quoth Maud to herself, as on she passed,
“I have his royal nibs in tow at last;
“My mother shall wear a sealskin sacque,
My pa swing out in his broadcloth black;
“My brother shall sip his whisky skins,
And my sister revel in gay breastpins!”
Quoth the Judge as he sauntered listless on,
“She's a rattling gyirl; you bet I'm gone;
218

“No doubt my last wife's ma will kick,
And my heirs cut up the very Nick;
“And tho' I've known her a short, short spell,
You bet I'll have her in spite of—” well
No matter his word, 'twas short and stout,
And the name of a place that's now played out
According to Beecher, Alack! for all,
The maid and the Judge ne'er wedded at all;
For he passed in his checks from too much gin,
And the maid grew long and lank and thin,
And eke, as her chances glimmered away
She ceased to flirt and began to pray.
God pity the maid and pity the Judge,
And these days of twaddle and bosh and fudge;
For of all sad words from a heart bereft,
The saddest are these, “You bet I'm left.”
previous section A little book of tribune verse
next section