Prophetic dream! by some good angel sent To make me with a quiet life content.
The question shall no more my bosom irk, To go to Washington or go to work.
From Fame's debasing struggle I'll withdraw, And taking up the pen lay down the law.
I'll leave this rogue, lest my example make An honest man of him--his heart would break.
_(Exit De Young.)_
ESTEE:
Out of my company these converts flee, But that advantage is denied to me: My curst identity's confining skin Nor lets me out nor tolerates me in.
Well, since my hopes eternally have fled, And, dead before, I'm more than ever dead, To find a grander tomb be now my task, And pack my pork into a stolen cask.
_(Exit, searching. Loud calls for the Author, who appears, bowing and smiling_.)
AUTHOR _(singing):_
Jack Satan's the greatest of gods, And Hell is the best of abodes.
'Tis reached, through the Valley of Clods, By seventy different roads.
Hurrah for the Seventy Roads!
Hurrah for the clods that resound With a hollow, thundering sound!
Hurrah for the Best of Abodes!
We'll serve him as long as we've breath-- Jack Satan the greatest of gods.
To all of his enemies, death!-- A home in the Valley of Clods.
Hurrah for the thunder of clods That smother the soul of his foe!
Hurrah for the spirits that go To dwell with the Greatest of Gods;
_(Curtain falls to faint odor of mortality. Exit the Gas_.)
THE BIRTH OF THE RAIL
DRAMATIS PERSONae
LELAND, THE KID _a Road Agent_ COWBOY CHARLEY _Same Line of Business_ HAPPY HUNTY _Ditto in All Respects_ SOOTYMUG _a Devil_
_Scene_--the Dutch Flat Stage Road, at 12 P.M., on a Night of 1864.
COWBOY CHARLEY:
My boss, I fear she is delayed to-night.
Already it is past the hour, and yet My ears have reached no sound of wheels; no note Melodious, of long, luxurious oaths Betokens the traditional dispute (Unsettled from the dawn of time) between The driver and off wheeler; no clear chant Nor carol of Wells Fargo's messenger Unbosoming his soul upon the air-- his prowess to the tender-foot, And how at divers times in sundry ways He strewed the roadside with our carcasses.
Clearly, the stage will not come by to-night.
LELAND, THE KID:
I now remember that but yesterday I saw three ugly looking fellows start From Colfax with a gun apiece, and they Did seem on business of importance bent.
Furtively casting all their eyes about And covering their tracks with all the care That business men do use. I think perhaps They were Directors of that rival line, The great Pacific Mail. If so, they have Indubitably taken in that coach, And we are overreached. Three times before This thing has happened, and if once again These outside operators dare to cut Our rates of profit I shall quit the road And take my money out of this concern.
When robbery no longer pays expense It loses then its chiefest charm for me, And I prefer to cheat--you hear me shout!
HAPPY HUNTY:
My chief, you do but echo back my thoughts: This competition is the death of trade.
'Tis plain (unless we wish to go to work) Some other business we must early find.
What shall it be? The field of usefulness Is yearly narrowing with the advance Of wealth and population on this coast.
There's little left that any man can do Without some other fellow stepping in And doing it as well. If one essay To pick a pocket he is sure to feel (With what disgust I need not say to you) Another hand inserted in the same.
You crack a crib at dead of night, and lo!
As you explore the dining-room for plate You find, in session there, a graceless band Stuffing their coats with spoons, their skins with wine.
And so it goes. Why even undertake To salt a mine and you will find it rich With noble specimens placed there before!
LELAND, THE KID:
And yet this line of immigration has Advantages superior to aught That elsewhere offers: all these passengers, If punched with care--
COWBOY CHARLEY:
Significant remark!
It opens up a prospect wide and fair, Suggesting to the thoughtful mind--_my_ mind-- A scheme that is the boss lay-out. Instead Of stopping passengers, let's carry them.
Instead of crying out: "Throw up your hands!"
Let's say: "Walk up and buy a ticket!" Why Should we unwieldy goods and bullion take, Watches and all such trifles, when we might Far better charge their value three times o'er For carrying them to market?
LELAND, THE KID:
Put it there, Old son!
HAPPY HUNTY:
You take the cake, my dear. We'll build A mighty railroad through this pass, and then The stage folk will come up to us and squeal, And say: "It is bad medicine for both: What will you give or take?" And then we'll sell.
COWBOY CHARLEY:
Enlarge your notions, little one; this is No petty, slouching, opposition scheme, To be bought off like honest men and fools; Mine eye prophetic pierces through the mists That cloud the future, and I seem to see A well-devised and executed scheme Of wholesale robbery within the law (Made by ourselves)--great, permanent, sublime, And strong to grapple with the public throat-- Shaking the stuffing from the public purse, The tears from bankrupt merchants' eyes, the blood From widows' famished carcasses, the bread From orphans' mouths!
HAPPY HUNTY:
Hooray!
LELAND, THE; KID:
Hooray!
ALL:
Hooray!
_(They tear the masks from their faces, and discharging their shotguns, throw them into the chapparal. Then they join hands, dance and sing the following song:)_
Ah! blessed to measure The glittering treasure!
Ah! blessed to heap up the gold Untold That flows in a wide And deepening tide-- Rolled, rolled, rolled From multifold sources, Converging its courses Upon our--