Page:Harper's New Monthly Magazine - v109.djvu/348

BY BURGES JOHNSON

(With Suggestions for Illustration by the Author)

IN the days of braggart youth (though, as now, I spoke the truth)
Of full appreciation oft I dreamt;
Now I'm old, my deeds are more than the sands upon the shore,
Yet I've learned to treat all sceptics with contempt,—
Exempt
Am I from all emotion save contempt.

Wild beasts of every sort I have hunted down for sport,
From Vlwostowck to the land of the Pooguls;
And those I did not kill I have led around at will,
For I have a winning way with animuls,
Which lulls
The passions of the wildest animuls.

As a youth I had a rub with a yellow, bobtailed Blub,—
I was hunting in the woods of Whangaree:
He was ten-foot-seven high, but I smote him in the eye,
Then, not knowing he was dead, went up a tree,—
Ah me,
I was young and ran for refuge up a tree!

How one's recollections pour through the past's half-opened door!
'Twas about that time I roamed the Kumpic Zone,
And I fought an angry Swot in a lonely desert spot,
And I skinned him single-handed and alone,—
Ochone!
I have had my greatest triumphs when alone!

Yes, I remember once, how I killed a young Ger-unce,
And its parents galloped up with blazing breath,—
Though their pinions beat like flails, yet I tied their giant tails,
Then I waited till they pulled themselves to death.—
I gueth
You seldom see a more exciting death!

But I spent my proudest day on the shores of Doodel Bay,—
There I slew a huge Pohunk ere I was dressed,
With two Whoopees and a bunch of wild Flop-cats before lunch, —
Then I gave the afternoon to needed rest:
'Twas best
To leave the smaller game-birds to the rest.

<poem>But 'twas near that very shore that a million (maybe more!)

Wild cannibals my prowess overcame;

And upon the Isle of Ghoo I was made into a stew,—

'Tis the one disgrace attaching to my name,—

With shame

I admit this single blemish on my name.</poe>