Black Beetles in Amber - читать онлайн бесплатно полную версию книги . Страница 131

ONE OF THE SAINTS

Big Smith is an Oakland School Board man,And he looks as good as ever he can;And he's such a cold and a chaste Big SmithThat snowflakes all are his kin and kith.Wherever his eye he chances to throwThe crystals of ice begin to grow;And the fruits and flowers he sees are lostBy the singeing touch of a sudden frost.The women all shiver whenever he's near,And look upon us with a look austere—Effect of the Smithian atmosphere.Such, in a word, is the moral planOf the Big, Big Smith, the School Board man.When told that Madame Ferrier had taughtHernani in school, his fist he broughtLike a trip-hammer down on his bulbous knee,And he roared: "Her Nanny? By gum, we'll seeIf the public's time she dares devoteTo the educatin' of any dam goat!""You do not entirely comprehend—Hernani's a play," said his learned friend,"By Victor Hugo—immoral and bad.What's worse, it's French!" "Well, well, my lad,"Said Smith, "if he cuts a swath so wideI'll have him took re'glar up and tried!"And he smiled so sweetly the other chapThought that himself was a Finn or LappCaught in a storm of his native snows,With a purple ear and an azure nose.The Smith continued: "I never pursueImmoral readin'." And that is true:He's a saint of remarkably high degree,With a mind as chaste as a mind can be;But read!—the devil a word can he!