Farm festivals :: :: University of Virginia Library

But past these two men, and around them,
The squireship had happened to roam,
And, strangely, had never yet found them,
Although they were always at home;

And manfully laid fear behind them;
And whispered to friends far and wide,
That if office was anxious to find them,
They never were going to hide!

And now, in undignified action,
Themselves and their partisans fought,
To decide, to their own satisfaction,
Which one 'twas the office had sought.

A half day we clamored and voted,
And each to success drew him nigh,
But neither as victor was quoted:
It always resulted “a tie;”

All voted for one or the other;
Except two young barbarous elves,
Who, simply proceedings to bother,
Kept voting, like sin, for themselves;

(Except a few times, it was noted,
Some charges of self-love to smother,
A conf'rence they had, ere they voted,
Then proceeded to “go” for each other!)

So all of our voting and prating,
To neither side victory brought,
While the office stood patiently waiting
To find out which one it had sought.

Till, tired of these semi-reverses,
A few of the worst of each clan
Loaded up their word-guns with sly curses,
And fired at the opposite man.

And morally petrified wretches,
These two men to be were allowed,
In small biographical sketches
That began to appear in the crowd.

The one, as a swindler high-handed,
Was painted unpleasantly plain;
With pockets like bladders expanded,
And filled with unstatesman-like gain;

They stated that all his life-labors
Were tinged with pecuniary sin;
That things left out nights by his neighbors,
They frequently failed to take in;

They claimed that his business transactions
Flowered out at the people's expense;
And named, as among these subtractions,
Three dollars and twenty-nine cents.

No odds that he stoutly denied it—
It hushed not the clamor at all;
Yet all the more fiercely they cried it,
And chalked the amount on the wall.

And a letter was found that convicted
This man to have some time been led
To have some time somehow contradicted
Some things that he some time had said.

But really, until very recent,
His name had not been a bad word;
But naught he had done that was decent,
To the minds of his foes now occurred.

His nature was kindly intentioned,
And free from ungenerous taint;
A fact not obtrusively mentioned,
In his enemies' bill of complaint.

He rose from a low, humble station;
His boy-life was sturdy and good;
He was hard-striving youth's inspiration;
They kept that as still as they could.

He had sown gold successes for others;
He cast a kind glance upon all;
No true men but what were his brothers;
They did not chalk that on the wall.

He was cultured, and broad, and discerning;
Strong thoughts on his countenance sat;
He dwelt by the fountains of learning;
They never accused him of that.

In short, had he heard the malicious
Black words that were throttling his cause,
He'd have shuddered to learn what a vicious
Unholy old villain he was;

And, terms theological using,
He e'en might have wished he were dead,
Had not the same linguistic bruising
Adorned his antagonist's head.

They said he was haughty in greeting;
Above all his neighbors he felt,
And to make him look slender in meeting,
Wore under his jacket a belt;

That he always had hoped and expected
The place he now openly sought,
But knew not enough, if elected,
The office to fill as he ought;

That he just hummed the ancient tune “Tariff,”
When other folks shouted and sang;
That he once had the luck to be sheriff,
When a woman was sentenced to hang;

That his mind he had long been diverting
With future political fame,
His head in a barrel inserting,
And shouting out “Squire” to his name;

And while, like a ball, the words bounded,
And doubled themselves, o'er and o'er,
He pondered how pompous it sounded,
And went on and did it some more;

And that this rather terse conversation,
And having been oft at it caught,
Comprised all the qualification
He had for the office he sought.

Now his life had the grim, noble beauty
The deed-painter's brush loves to tell;
He was one who had studied his duty,
And done it exceedingly well;

He was one of the bravest and quickest
To shield threatened Liberty's form;
He stood where the bullets were thickest,
To cover her safe from the storm;

Well framed for his foes' admiration—
Well-named by his friends “The Superb”;
A part of the edge of the nation—
His whole life a transitive verb;—

He was worthy and grand—who could doubt it?
His fame was as fresh as the morn;
But his foemen forgot all about it,
And drabbled his name with their scorn.

No odds how turned out the election,
Concerning the lesson I'd teach;
But my conscience that night, on reflection,
Made me this political speech:

“'Tis over high time you repented,
You servile young partisan hound,
For being to-day represented
In that idiot asylum of sound!

“Henceforth, in these conflicts exciting,
Learn, whether by speech or by pen,
With principle's sword to be fighting,
And not to be slandering men.”