Black Beetles in Amber Part 40

DE YOUNG:

Aye, truly, 'tis a greed--and one The offices imperfectly will sate, But I'll stand in.

SWIFT:

Well, so 'tis understood, As you're the junior member of the Trust, Politically younger and undead, Speak, Michael: what portfolio do you choose?

DE YOUNG:

I've thought the Postal service best would serve My interest; but since I have my pick, I'll take the War Department. It is known Throughout the world, from Market street to Pine, (For a Chicago journal told the tale) How in this hand I lately took my life And marched against great Buckley, thundering My mandate that he count the ballots fair!

Earth heard and shrank to half her size! Yon moon, Which rivaled then a liver's whiteness, paused That night at Butchertown and daubed her face With sheep's blood! Then my serried rank I drew Back to my stronghold without loss. To mark My care in saving human life and limb, The Peace Society bestowed on me Its leather medal and the t.i.tle, too, Of Colonel. Yes, my genius is for war. Good land!

I naturally dote on a bra.s.s band!

(_Sings._)

O, give me a life on the tented field, Where the cannon roar and ring, Where the flag floats free and the foemen yield And bleed as the bullets sing.

But be it not mine to wage the fray Where matters are ordered the other way, For that is a different thing.

O, give me a life in the fierce campaign-- Let it be the life of my foe: I'd rather fall upon him than the plain; That service I'd fain forego.

O, a warrior's life is fine and free, But a warrior's death--ah me! ah me!

That's a different thing, you know.

ESTEE:

Some claim I might myself advance to that Portfolio. When Rebellion raised its head, And you, my friends, stayed meekly in your s.h.i.+rts, I marched with banners to the party stump, Spat on my hands, made faces fierce as death, Shook my two fists at once and introduced Brave resolutions terrible to read!

Nay, only recently, as you do know, I conquered Treason by the word of mouth, And slew, with Samson's weapon, the whole South!

SWIFT:

You once fought Stanford, too.

ESTEE:

Enough of that-- Give me the Interior and I'll devote My mind to agriculture and improve The breed of cabbages, especially The _Bra.s.sica Celeritatis_, named For _you_ because in days of long ago You sold it at your market stall,--and, faith, 'Tis said you were an honest huckster then.

I'll be Attorney-General if you Prefer; for know I am a lawyer too!

SWIFT:

I never have heard that!--did you, De Young?

DE YOUNG:

Never, so help me! And I swear I've heard A score of Judges say that he is not.

SWIFT (_to Estee_):

You take the Interior. I might aspire To military station too, for once I led my party into Pixley's camp, And he paroled me. I defended, too, The State of Oregon against the sharp And b.l.o.o.d.y tooth of the Australian sheep.

But I've an apt.i.tude exceeding neat For bloodless battles of diplomacy.

My cobweb treaty of Exclusion once, Through which a hundred thousand coolies sailed, Was much admired, but most by Colonel Bee.

Though born a tinker I'm a diplomat From old Missouri, and I--ha! what's that?

(_Exit Moon. Enter Blue Lights on all the tombs, and a circle of Red Fire on the gra.s.s; in the center the Spirit of Broken Hopes, and round about, a Troupe of Coffins, dancing and singing._)

CHORUS OF COFFINS:

Two bodies dead and one alive-- Yo, ho, merrily all!

Now for boodle strain and strive-- Buzzards all a-warble, O!

Prophets three, agape for bread; Raven with a stone instead-- Providential raven!

Judges two and Colonel one-- Run, run, rustics, run!

But it's O, the pig is shaven, And oily, oily all!

(_Exeunt Coffins, dancing. The Spirit of Broken Hopes advances, solemnly pointing at each of the Three Worthies in turn._)

SPIRIT OF BROKEN HOPES:

Governor, Governor, editor man, Rusty, musty, spick-and-span, Harlequin, harridan, d.i.c.ky-dout, Demagogue, charlatan--o, u, t, OUT!

(_De Young falls and sleeps._)

Antimonopoler, diplomat, Railroad lackey, political rat, One, two, three--SCAT!

(_Swift falls and sleeps._)

Boycotting chin-worker, working to woo Fortune, the fickle, to smile upon _you_, Jo-coated acrobat, shuttle-c.o.c.k--SHOO!

(_Estee falls and sleeps._)

Now they lie in slumber sweet, Now the charm is all complete, Hasten I with flying feet Where beyond the further sea A babe upon its mother's knee Is gazing into skies afar And crying for a golden star.

I'll drag a cloud across the blue And break that infant's heart in two!

(_Exeunt the Spirit of Broken Hopes and the Red and Blue Fires. Re-enter Moon._)

ESTEE (_waking_):

Why, this is strange! I dreamed I know not what, It seemed that certain apparitions were, Which sang uncanny words, significant And yet ambiguous--half-understood-- Portending evil; and an awful spook, Even as I stood with my accomplices, Counted me out, as children do in play.

Is that you, Mike?

DE YOUNG _(waking):_

It was.

SWIFT _(waking):_

Am I all that?

Then I'll reform my ways.

_(Reforms his ways.)_ Ah! had I known How sweet it is to be an honest man I never would have stooped to turn my coat For public favor, as chameleons take The hue (as near as they can judge) of that Supporting them. Henceforth I'll buy With money all the offices I need, And know the pleasure of an honest life, Or stay forever in this dismal place.

Now that I'm good, it will no longer do To make a third with such, a wicked two.

_(Returns to his tomb.)_

DE YOUNG: