Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE SIMPLE LIFE - IN CLUBS; APRIL 1906, by AMELIA WOODWARD TRUESDELL


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE SIMPLE LIFE - IN CLUBS; APRIL 1906, by                    
First Line: From various junketings with fate
Last Line: To break the record of the thirst.
Subject(s): Clubs (associations); San Francisco Earthquake And Fire (1906); Smoke


From various junketings with fate
Six club men sat in dreary state;
Millions they'd lost, each man a few,
A few were left to start anew.
"No hard-luck stories, now, you boys."
Each man was gray. "Let's tell our joys."
A deep voice growled, "My throat's so dry,
There's one old joy I'd like to try.
You see those tumblers upside down,
And not a lemon in the town?"
He groaned at such unnatural woe
Who'd seen unmoved his millions go.
One sufferer bounded from his seat,
Flew down the stairs as light and fleet
As wings of youth were on his feet.

For this hour saved from fire and shock,
An office stood upon the dock.
A man of venerable mien
Writing alone could there be seen;
And thither came our millionaire,
Familiar and most debonair.
"Say, Mac, those fellows at the club!
You know they've had an awful rub."

Behind his spectacles' gold rim,
Relaxed a bit Mac's visage grim;
These words appealed right up to him.
The office door he gently locked,
His visitor seemed nothing shocked.
Respectable and quite correct
A safe stood there; who would suspect

That comfort, contraband, could hide
Within its little black inside?
From double depths all cool and dark
That host drew forth a glinting spark,
The which his eager guest received
As writ of life to the reprieved.
"Come here, you love," he softly cried,
"My coat's got loose enough to hide
A dozen such. Let's take a ride."
Then forth upon the dock they walked,
These Innocents at home, and talked
With manners grave and dignified,
How life must be more simplified;
On reconstruction well discoursed,
That forces must be reinforced,
Until they reached the auto, where
The cops passed by with guiltless air.
Mac whispered then, "Now speed that road
As if you had a red-cross load."
What general or potentate
Triumphant from the field or state,
Could with this hero be compared,
This dear old swell who loved and dared?

And when he set that bottle down,
Those clubmen seized the Bourbon crown
As rebels often had before.
The hero was ordained to pour
Into each glass the precious store.
Reverent they watched the sacred rite,
Then held their crystals to the light,
And how they read its golden glow,
'Tis the elect alone can know.
They passed the nectar to and fro
Beneath each expert nostril's play—
Delicious test of its bouquet;
So lovers revel in delay.
And then a solemn moment fell—
Each glass was drained, its dainty well
A heaven no futile pen may tell.

The cork they toasted to the cheer,
And hung it on the chandelier;
Beribboned there it swings, the first
To break the record of the thirst.





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