Spoon River Anthology Part 4

Nicholas Bindle

Were you not ashamed, fellow citizens, When my estate was probated and everyone knew How small a fortune I left?-- You who hounded me in life, To give, give, give to the churches, to the poor, To the village!--me who had already given much.

And think you not I did not know That the pipe-organ, which I gave to the church, Played its christening songs when Deacon Rhodes, Who broke and all but ruined me, Wors.h.i.+pped for the first time after his acquittal?

Harold Arnett

I LEANED against the mantel, sick, sick, Thinking of my failure, looking into the abysm, Weak from the noon-day heat.

A church bell sounded mournfully far away, I heard the cry of a baby, And the coughing of John Yarnell, Bed-ridden, feverish, feverish, dying, Then the violent voice of my wife: "Watch out, the potatoes are burning!"

I smelled them . . . then there was irresistible disgust.

I pulled the trigger . . . blackness . . . light . . .

Unspeakable regret . . . fumbling for the world again.

Too late! Thus I came here, With lungs for breathing . . . one cannot breathe here with lungs, Though one must breathe Of what use is it To rid one's self of the world, When no soul may ever escape the eternal destiny of life?

Margaret Fuller Slack

I WOULD have been as great as George Eliot But for an untoward fate.

For look at the photograph of me made by Penniwit, Chin resting on hand, and deep--set eyes-- Gray, too, and far-searching.

But there was the old, old problem: Should it be celibacy, matrimony or unchast.i.ty?

Then John Slack, the rich druggist, wooed me, Luring me with the promise of leisure for my novel, And I married him, giving birth to eight children, And had no time to write.

It was all over with me, anyway, When I ran the needle in my hand While was.h.i.+ng the baby's things, And died from lock--jaw, an ironical death.

Hear me, ambitious souls, s.e.x is the curse of life.

George Trimble

Do you remember when I stood on the steps Of the Court House and talked free-silver, And the single-tax of Henry George?

Then do you remember that, when the Peerless Leader Lost the first battle, I began to talk prohibition, And became active in the church?

That was due to my wife, Who pictured to me my destruction If I did not prove my morality to the people.

Well, she ruined me: For the radicals grew suspicious of me, And the conservatives were never sure of me-- And here I lie, unwept of all.

"Ace" Shaw

I NEVER saw any difference Between playing cards for money And selling real estate, Practicing law, banking, or anything else.

For everything is chance.

Nevertheless Seest thou a man diligent in business?

He shall stand before Kings!

Willard Fluke

MY wife lost her health, And dwindled until she weighed scarce ninety pounds.

Then that woman, whom the men Styled Cleopatra, came along.

And we--we married ones All broke our vows, myself among the rest.

Years pa.s.sed and one by one Death claimed them all in some hideous form And I was borne along by dreams Of G.o.d's particular grace for me, And I began to write, write, write, reams on reams Of the second coming of Christ.

Then Christ came to me and said, "Go into the church and stand before the congregation And confess your sin."

But just as I stood up and began to speak I saw my little girl, who was sitting in the front seat-- My little girl who was born blind!

After that, all is blackness.

Aner Clute

OVER and over they used to ask me, While buying the wine or the beer, In Peoria first, and later in Chicago, Denver, Frisco, New York, wherever I lived How I happened to lead the life, And what was the start of it.

Well, I told them a silk dress, And a promise of marriage from a rich man-- (It was Lucius Atherton).

But that was not really it at all.

Suppose a boy steals an apple From the tray at the grocery store, And they all begin to call him a thief, The editor, minister, judge, and all the people-- "A thief," "a thief," "a thief," wherever he goes And he can't get work, and he can't get bread Without stealing it, why the boy will steal.

It's the way the people regard the theft of the apple That makes the boy what he is.

Lucius Atherton

WHEN my moustache curled, And my hair was black, And I wore tight trousers And a diamond stud, I was an excellent knave of hearts and took many a trick.

But when the gray hairs began to appear-- Lo! a new generation of girls Laughed at me, not fearing me, And I had no more exciting adventures Wherein I was all but shot for a heartless devil, But only drabby affairs, warmed-over affairs Of other days and other men.

And time went on until I lived at Mayer's restaurant, Partaking of short-orders, a gray, untidy, Toothless, discarded, rural Don Juan. . . .

There is a mighty shade here who sings Of one named Beatrice; And I see now that the force that made him great Drove me to the dregs of life.

Homer Clapp

OFTEN Aner Clute at the gate Refused me the parting kiss, Saying we should be engaged before that; And just with a distant clasp of the hand She bade me good-night, as I brought her home From the skating rink or the revival.

No sooner did my departing footsteps die away Than Lucius Atherton, (So I learned when Aner went to Peoria) Stole in at her window, or took her riding Behind his spanking team of bays Into the country.

The shock of it made me settle down And I put all the money I got from my father's estate Into the canning factory, to get the job Of head accountant, and lost it all.

And then I knew I was one of Life's fools, Whom only death would treat as the equal Of other men, making me feel like a man.

Deacon Taylor

I BELONGED to the church, And to the party of prohibition; And the villagers thought I died of eating watermelon.

In truth I had cirrhosis of the liver, For every noon for thirty years, I slipped behind the prescription part.i.tion In Trainor's drug store And poured a generous drink From the bottle marked "Spiritus frumenti."

Sam Hookey

I RAN away from home with the circus, Having fallen in love with Mademoiselle Estralada, The lion tamer.