And dumped promiscuous, anywhere,In holes and trenches—all misfits—Mixed up with one another's bits:One's back-bone with another's shin,A third one's skull with a fourth one's grin—Your eye was never, never fixedUpon a company so mixed!Go now among them there and blow:'Twill be as good as any showTo see them, when they hear the tones,Compiling one another's bones!But here 'tis vain to sound and wait:Naught rises here but real estate.I own it all and shan't disgorge.Don't know me? I am Henry George.'
ARBOR DAY
Hasten, children, black and white—Celebrate the yearly rite.Every pupil plant a tree:It will grow some day to beBig and strong enough to bearA School Director hanging there.
THE PIUTE
Unbeautiful is the Piute! Howe'er bedecked with bravery, His person is unsavory—Of soap he's destitute.He multiplies upon the earth In spite of all admonishing; All censure his astonishingAnd versatile unworth.Upon the Reservation wide We give for his inhabiting He goes a-jackass rabbitingTo furnish his inside.The hopper singing in the grass He seizes with avidity: He loves its tart acidity,And gobbles all that pass.He penetrates the spider's veil, Industriously pillages The toads' defenseless villages,And shadows home the snail.He lightly runs to earth the quaint Red worm and, deftly troweling, He makes it with his bowelingFamiliarly acquaint.He tracks the pine-nut to its lair, Surrounds it with celerity, Regards it with asperity—Smiles, and it isn't there!I wish he'd open up a grin Of adequate vivacity And carrying capacityTo take his Agent in.
FAME
He held a book in his knotty paws, And its title grand read he:'The Chronicles of the Kings' it was, By the History Companee.'I'm a monarch,' he said(But a tear he shed) 'And my picter here you see.'Great and lasting is my renown, However the wits may flout—As wide almost as this blessed town' (But he winced as if with gout).'I paid 'em like sinFor to put me in, But it's O, and O, to be out!'