Thanks to Lee Morgan of OG who sent us a poem entitled “Farmer Stebbins at Ocean Grove.” It is from a book by Will Carleton titled City Ballads published in 1885. Lee says, “Your readers will be delighted and amused. Note the caracatures of the folks in the poem.”
Ocean Grove, June 30, 18—.
Dear Cousin John:
We got here safe—my worthy wife and me—And took a tent here in the woods contiguous to the sea; We’ve harvested such means of grace as growed within our reach— We’ve been to several meetings here, and heard the Bishop preach; And everything went easy like until we took a whim—My wife and I—one breezy day, to take an ocean swim.
We shouldn’t have ventured on’t, I think, if Sister Sunnyhopes hadn’t urged us over and again, and said she knew “the ropes,” And told how soothing it would be “in ocean rills to lave,”And “sport within the bounding surf,” and “ride the crested wave;” And so we went along with her—my timid wife and me— Two inland noodles, for our first acquaintance with the sea.
They put me in a work-day rig, as usually is done— A wampus and short overalls all sewed up into one. I had to pull and tug and shrink to make the thing go ’round (You are aware my peaceful weight will crowd three hundred pound). They took my wig and laid it up—to keep it dry, they said—And strapped a straw-stack of a hat on my devoted head.
Miss Sunnyhopes she waded out a-looking nice and sweet (She’d had her dress made to the store, and trimmed from head to feet); And I went next, and grabbed their rope just as she told me to, And Wife came third, a-looking scared, scarce knowing what to do.Then Sister Sunnyhopes a smile of virgin sweetness gave, And said, “Now watch your chance, and jump—here comes a lovely wave!”
On county fairs and ‘lection days, in walking through a crowd, I’m rather firm to jostle ‘gainst—perhaps it makes me proud; But if it does, that wave just preached how sureness never pays, And seemed to say, “How small is man, no odds how much he weighs!” It kicked and cuffed me all about, in spite of right or law, With all the qualities they give an average mother-in-law!
Heels over head—all in a bunch—my wife across of me, And I on some misguided folks who happened there to be, My hat untied and floated off, and left my bald head bare— When I got out, if I’d have spoke, ‘twould warmed up all the air! We drank ’bout two-thirds of the sea—my gasping wife and I—While Sister S. still floated soft, a-gazing at the sky!
We voted that we’d had enough, and got right out the way Before another wave arrived, and bid the sea good-day. We looked as like two drownded rats as ever such was called, With one of them a dumbed old fool and most completely bald. But, like a woman true she says—my shivering wife to me— “We will not mind; there’s others here looks just as bad as we.”
Now, Sister Sunnyhopes, by’m-by, came back into our tent, As sleek or sleeker than before, and asked us “When we went?” Said I, “My dear good Sister S., please do not now pretend You did not see our voyage through, and mark its doleful end. If you would play the mermaid fair, why such I’d have you be; But we’re too old to take that part—my faithful wife and me;
MUSIC FROM THE SOUNDTRACK OF THE GRAND BUDAPEST HOTEL:
Loved the poem. Thank you. Lynn