Black Beetles in Amber

CALIFORNIA

The Chinaman's Assailant was allowed to walk quietly away, although the street was filled with pedestrians.

Newspaper

Why should he not have been allowed
To thread with peaceful feet the crowd
  Which filled that Christian street?
The Decalogue he had observed,
From Faith in Jesus had not swerved,
And scorning pious platitudes,
He saw in the Beatitudes
  A lamp to guide his feet.
He knew that Jonah downed the whale
And made no bones of it. The tale
  That Ananias told
He swore was true. He had no doubt
That Daniel laid the lions out.
In short, he had all holiness,
All meekness and all lowliness,
  And was with saints enrolled.
'Tis true, some slight excess of zeal
Sincerely to promote the weal
  Of this most Christian state
Had moved him rudely to divide
The queue that was a pagan's pride,
And in addition certify
The Faith by making fur to fly
  From pelt as well as pate?
But, Heavenly Father, thou dost know
That in this town these actions go
  For nothing worth a name.
Nay, every editorial ass,
To prove they never come to pass
Will damn his soul eternally,
Although in his own journal he
  May read the printed shame.
From bloody hands the reins of pow'r
Fall slack; the high-decisive hour
  Strikes not for liars' ears.
Remove, O Father, the disgrace
That stains our California's face,
And consecrate to human good
The strength of her young womanhood
  And all her golden years!

DE YOUNG—A PROPHECY

Running for Senator with clumsy pace,
He stooped so low, to win at least a place,
That Fortune, tempted by a mark so droll,
Sprang in an kicked him to the winning pole.

TO EITHER

      Back further than
      I know, in San
Francisco dwelt a wealthy man.
      So rich was he
      That none could be
Wise, good and great in like degree.
      'Tis true he wrought,
      In deed or thought,
But few of all the things he ought;
      But men said: 'Who
      Would wish him to?
Great souls are born to be, not do!'
      One thing, indeed,
      He did, we read,
Which was becoming, all agreed:
      Grown provident,
      Ere life was spent
He built a mighty monument.
      For longer than
      I know, in San
Francisco lived a beggar man;
      And when in bed
      They found him dead—
'Just like the scamp!' the people said.