Rhymes with reason and without

O, why do you shiver and shake, Mr. Jones?
O, why do you shiver and shake?
You tremble and sweat
Like a poor man in debt,
And your garment is wringing with wet, Mr. Jones,
Your garment is wringing with wet.

Ah, me! what a dream I have had, Mrs. Jones;
Ah, me! what a dream I have had;
I feel sore oppressed
By a load at my breast;
It is not light weight, you may rest, Mrs. Jones,
It is not light weight, you may rest.

I thought I had scaled heaven's height, Mrs. Jones,
I thought I had scaled heaven's height,
But was stopped by the guard,
Who questioned me hard
If I had credential or card, Mrs. Jones,
If I had credential or card.

234

I gave him my business card, Mrs. Jones,
I gave him my business card,
And when he read “coal,”
His voice seemed to roll
An ocean of dread o'er my soul, Mrs. Jones,
An ocean of dread o'er my soul.

I felt I was in the wrong bin, Mrs. Jones,
I felt I was in the wrong bin;
The guardian spoke,
And then, without joke,
My condition seemed blacker than coke, Mrs. Jones,
My condition seemed blacker than coke.

He spoke then my doom in my ear, Mrs. Jones,
He spoke then my doom in my ear:
“Leave, leave you this gate,
You are wanting in weight;
You are doomed to a darker estate, Mr. Jones,
You are doomed to a darker estate.”

Then down I was hurled through the air, Mrs. Jones,
Then down I was hurled through the air,
And leagues on leagues passed,
Which brought me, at last,
To a cavern both gloomy and vast, Mrs. Jones,
To a cavern both gloomy and vast.

In vain I looked for a guide, Mrs. Jones,
In vain I looked for a guide;

235

Amid the dark air
I peered everywhere,
But there was n't a Pathfinder there, Mrs. Jones,
But there was n't a Pathfinder there.

And while thus beshrouded in gloom, Mrs. Jones,
And while thus beshrouded in gloom,
A door was oped wide,
And a scene I descried
I could n't describe if I tried, Mrs. Jones,
I could n't describe if I tried.

I screened my eyes with my hands, Mrs. Jones,
I screened my eyes with my hands
To shut out the rays
From a vast furnace blaze,
That burst on my night-wildered gaze, Mrs. Jones,
That burst on my night-wildered gaze.

The ruling passion was strong, Mrs. Jones,
The ruling passion was strong;
And though it was droll,
I forgot for my soul,
And thought of a contract for coal, Mrs. Jones,
And thought of a contract for coal.

As soon as they saw who I was, Mrs. Jones,
As soon as they saw who I was,
The door was shut to,
Without more ado,

236

And a voice roared the key-hole through, Mrs. Jones,
And a voice roared the key-hole through.

And these are the words that were said, Mrs. Jones,
And these are the words that were said:
“Crawl back to the dust!
You 're not fit to be curst,
Of all mean things you 're the worst, Mr. Jones,
Of all mean things you're the worst!”

Then here I awaked by your side, Mrs. Jones,
Then here I awaked by your side;
'T is a frightful thing gone,
And I'll try to atone,
And be fit for some place when I'm done, Mrs. Jones,
And be fit for some place when I'm done.

Some years ago, during an angry altercation between the Pathfinder newspaper and the coal-dealers of Boston, the Dream grew out of the difficulty. Of course, it is only a dream.

University of Virginia Library

THE COAL-DEALER'S DREAM.