Image provided by: University of Nebraska-Lincoln Libraries, Lincoln, NE
About The courier. (Lincoln, Neb.) 1894-1903 | View Entire Issue (Dec. 22, 1894)
THE COURIER 1 --- k V . V THE FACE UPON THE FLOOR. By D'Arcy. (Published by Request.) 'Twas a balmy summer evening and a goodly crowd was there, Which well-nigh filled Joe's bar-room, on the corner of the squaro; And as songs and witty stories came through the open door, A vagabond crept slowly in and posed upon the floor. "Where did it come from?" some one said. "The wind has blown it in.'. "What does it want?" another cried. "Some whiskey rum or gin?' "Here, Toby, seek him, if your stomach's equal to the work I wouldn't touch him with a fork, he's filthy as a Turk." This badinage the poor wretch took with stocial good grace In fact ho smiled as tho'he thought he'd struck the proper place. "Come boys, I know there's kindly hearts among so good a crowd To be in such good company would make a deacon proud. s t 'Give ms a drink tha t's what I want I'm out of funds, you know. When I had cash to treat the gang, this hand was never slow. What? You laugh as if you thought this pocket never held a sou, I once was fixed as well, my boys, as any one of you. "There, thanks; that braced me nicely; God bless you one and all; Next time I pass this good saloon, I'll make another call. Give you a song? No, I can't do that, my singing days are past; My voice is cracked, my throat's worn out, and mylung's are goin' fast. "Say! give me another whiskey, and I'll tell you what I'll do I'll tell you a funny story, and a fact, I promise, too, That I was ever a decent man, not one of you would think; But I waB, some four or five years back. Say, give us another drink. "Fill her up, Joe, I want to put some life into my frame Such little drinks to a bum like mt are miserable tame; Five fingers there, that's the scheme and corking whiskey, too. Well, here's luck, boys, and landlord, my best regards to you. "You've treated me pretty kindly, and I'd like to tell you how " I came to bo the dirty sot you Bee before you now. As I told you, once I was a man with music, frame and health, And, but for a blunder, ought to have made considerable wealth. "I was a painter not one that daubed on brick and wood, But an artist, and, for my age, was rated pretty good; I worked hard at my canvas, and was bidding fair to rise, For gradually I saw the star of fame before my eyes. "I made a picture, perhaps you've seon.tis called tho'ChaBO of Fame.' It brought mo fifteon hundred pounds, and added to my narao. And then I met a women now com;s the funuy part With eyes that petrified my brain and sunk into my heart. "Why don't you laugh? Tis funny that the vagabond you aee Could ovor lovo a woman and expect her love for mo; But 'twas bo, and for a month or two her smiles were freely given, And when her loving lips touched'mine, it carried me to heavtn. "Boys, did you ever see a girl for whom your soul you'd give. With a form like the Milo VenuB, too beautiful too live; With eyes that would beat th e Kohinoor, and a wealth of chestnut hair If so, 'twas she, for there was never another half so fair. "I was working on a portrait; one afternoon in May, Of a fair-haired boy, a friend of mine, who lived across the way; And Madeline admired it, and, much to my surprise,' Said the she'd like to know the man that had such dreamy, eyes: "It didn't take long to know him, and before the month had flown, My friend had stole my darling and I was left alone; And ere a year of misery had passed above my head, The jewel I had treasured so had tarnished and was dead. "That's why I took to drink, boys. Why, I never saw you smile; I thought you'd be amused and laughing all the while. Why! what's the matter, friend? There's a tear drop in your eye; Come, laugh like me, 'tis only babes and women that should cry. "Say, boys, if you give me just another whiskey, I'll be glad, And I'll draw, right here, a picture of the face that drove me mad. Give me that piece of chalk, with which you mark the base ball score You shall see the lovely Madeline upon the bar-room floor." Another drink, and with chalk in hand, the vagabond began To sketch a face that well might buy the soul of any man. Then, as he placed another lock upon the shapely head, With fearful shriek he leaped and fell across the picture, dead. nMK TKS. Fq n n i. XV315L OUR WINTER FOOTWEAR. c 'MTL m m 1213 0 STREET. Is the proper thing for you. Come and'See. head cool. h am ffl HAND SEWED. $4.00 and $5.00.