THE CLODHOPPER AND THE BALD-HEADED MAN

Part 6 of 6

Source:  The Crittenden Record. (Marion, Ky.) 1904-1907, February 9, 1906, Image 2 - Chronicling America - The Library of Congress.

 

[A story of love and business told in verse, and written expressly for
THE RECORD by Robert C. Haynes, author of "Dark Days and Bright."]

 

XXXVI.

A full week passed away, and the benedict, Turk,
With a broad, happy smile, went right on with his work;
From morning till ev'ning, with scarcely a stop,
He carried up brick to the man at the top.

And his happy young wife, the fair-faced Imogene--
She detested the sight of a writing machine--
Passed the time away sweetly with household affairs--
The making of pies and the dusting of chairs.

"Turk's a lucky old scamp." said the bald-headed boss;
He had just figured up his day's profit or loss,
And his words were addressed to the hard-pounding Green
As he punch'd, as for life, on the writing machine.

XXXVII.

"That's a fact," answered Green; "he's more lucky than I;
But I'll get it all back on you, sir, by and by!
And to tell you the truth, sir, to lose Imogene
Hurt me worst, a big sight, than to lose that machine!"

"I did all that I could for you, Green," said the boss;
"And besides, did not I, too, feel deeply the loss?
Though you punch fairly well on a writing machine,
You are blank, I must say, as an ornament, Green!"

"Besides, Green--ha! ha! ha!" laughed the bald-headed man,
"If you want to succeed, you must know how to plan!
'Twas in not knowing this, sir, you lost Imogene,
And lost also--ha! ha! that new writing machine!"

XXXVIII.

"Five o'clock!" cried the man at the top, "No more work!
Down goes trowel and hod! Not another brick, Turk!"
And so off Joe went briskly, passed by Pounder Green,
And was soon near his home and his sweet Imogene.

And his wife, who was waiting for Joe to arrive--
For she knew he would lay down his hod just at five--
Had the pies on the table--arrang'd just for two--
And the two fell to eating, like hungry folk do!

"Gee! This pie is just splendid!" said Joe. "Imogene,
I'm so glad this is I--not that long-hungry Green!
Now most pies are horrid--non-eatable stuff--
But of these--pass 'em round--I just can't get enough!"

XXXIX.

When supper was over, "Joe, dear," said his wife,
"Will you thus carry hods all the days of your life?
Oh, Joe! What if some day a stray brick should drop
Square down on your head from the man at the top?"

"It would kill you--boo--hoo! Crush--boo--hoo! out your life!
Then what would become of your poor--boo--hoo wife?
I'd be forced--boo-hoo!--back to the writing machine,
Or to marry great, gangling, gawky gump, Green!"

"Ah, that's kind, Joe, to so wipe away my poor tears;
And now just for once won't you lend me your ears?
For I lent you mine once, being dictated to--
May not I, in return, Joe, now dictate to you?"

XL.

"Why, of course, Imogene, you most certainly may."
Her husband replied, "Why, just dictate away;
I'm so glad it's not Green you're to so dictate to,
So my ears shall be always wide open to you."

"Well, first I will say, then," began Imogene,
"Just as I quit the boss and his writing machine,
I want you, Joe, to leave that abomni'ble hod,
And go back to the farm and to turning the sod."

"Why should you, Joe, always be lifting up hods?
And why not, Joe, go back to the hopping of clods?
Just give back that old hod to the man at the top,
And let Green take it up--or lest let the work stop!"

XLI.

And so Joe left the town--for the country he hied,
Left the man at the top--with his hod cast aside--
Just like his dear wife, the bright-eyed Imogene,
Left the bald-headed boss and the writing machine.

So he took up the shovel, the rake and the hoe;
Used the ax and the pitchfork, the spade and the froe;
Went to sowing and reaping, to steering the plow,
To driving the mules and to milking the cow.

So the two were now happy; his wife, Imogene--
She became an expert on the sewing machine--
Had her Leghorns and Brahmas and fine Plymouth Rock,
And would let Joe keep none but the finest of stock.

XLII.

So a year passed away and then came little Dan--
He was named, of course, after the bald-headed man--
To enliven their home and to add to their joys.
(His weight was just nine pounds, avourdupois!)

And a bright, lovely babe was this same little Dan--
He in no wise resembled the bald-headed man--
"I think, don't you, mamma," said Joe, "can't you see
That his ears and nose look exactly like me?"

"Say, Green--Ha! ha! ha!" laughed the bald-headed man.
"The problem is solved! I've just formed a new plan!
Since you, Green--ha! ha!--failed to get Imogene,
I'll just give little Dan that new writing machine!"

THE END.


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