Poems ✍️

  21.01.2026
  9


Author: Ambrose Bierce

Slickens

DRAMATIS PERSONAE.

 

HAYSEED _a Granger_

NOZZLE _a Miner_

RINGDIVVY _a Statesman_

FEEGOBBLE _a Lawyer_

JUNKET _a Committee_

 

_Scene_-Yuba Dam.

 

_Feegobble, Ringdivvy, Nozzle_.

 

 

NOZZLE:

 

My friends, since '51 I have pursued

The evil tenor of my watery way,

Removing hills as by an act of faith

 

RINGDIVVY:

 

Just so; the steadfast faith of those who hold,

In foreign lands beyond the Eastern sea,

The shares in your concern-a simple, blind,

Unreasoning belief in dividends,

Still stimulated by assessments which,

When the skies fall, ensnaring all the larks,

Will bring, no doubt, a very great return.

 

ALL (_singing_):

 

O the beautiful assessment,

The exquisite assessment,

The regular assessment,

That makes the water flow.

 

RINGDIVVY:

 

The rascally-assessment!

 

FEEGOBBLE:

 

The murderous assessment!

 

NOZZLE:

 

The glorious assessment

That makes my mare to go!

 

FEEGOBBLE:

 

But, Nozzle, you, I think, were on the point

Of making a remark about some rights–

Some certain vested rights you have acquired

By long immunity; for still the law

Holds that if one do evil undisturbed

His right to do so ripens with the years;

And one may be a villain long enough

To make himself an honest gentleman.

 

ALL (_singing_):

 

Hail, holy law,

The soul with awe

Bows to thy dispensation.

 

NOZZLE:

 

It breaks my jaw!

 

RINGDIVVY:

 

It qualms my maw!

 

FEEGOBBLE:

 

It feeds my jaw,

It crams my maw,

It is my soul’s salvation!

 

NOZZLE:

 

Why, yes, I’ve floated mountains to the sea

For lo! these many years; though some, they say,

Do strand themselves along the bottom lands

And cover up a village here and there,

And here and there a ranch. 'Tis said, indeed,

The granger with his female and his young

Do not infrequently go to the dickens

By premature burial in slickens.

 

ALL (_singing_):

 

Could slickens forever

Choke up the river,

And slime’s endeavor

Be tried on grain,

How small the measure

Of granger’s treasure,

How keen his pain!

 

RINGDIVVY:

 

‘A consummation devoutly to be wished!’

These rascal grangers would long since have been

Submerged in slimes, to the last man of them,

But for the fact that all their wicked tribes

Affect our legislation with their bribes.

 

ALL (_singing_):

 

O bribery’s great–

'Tis a pillar of State,

And the people they are free.

 

FEEGOBBLE:

 

It smashes my slate!

 

NOZZLE:

 

It is thievery straight!

 

RINGDIVVY:

 

But it’s been the making of me!

 

NOZZLE:

 

I judge by certain shrewd sensations here

In these callosities I call my thumbs

thrilling sense as of ten thousand pins,

Red-hot and penetrant, transpiercing all

The cuticle and tickling through the nerves

That some malign and awful thing draws near.

 

(_Enter Hayseed._)

 

Good Lord! here are the ghosts and spooks of all

The grangers I have decently interred,

Rolled into one!

 

FEEGOBBLE:

 

Plead, phantom.

 

RINGDIVVY:

 

You’ve the floor.

 

HAYSEED:

 

From the margin of the river

(Bitter Creek, they sometimes call it)

Where I cherished once the pumpkin,

And the summer squash promoted,

Harvested the sweet potato,

Dallied with the fatal melon

And subdued the fierce cucumber,

I’ve been driven by the slickens,

Driven by the slimes and tailings!

All my family-my Polly

Ann and all my sons and daughters,

Dog and baby both included

All were swamped in seas of slickens,

Buried fifty fathoms under,

Where they lie, prepared to play their

Gentle prank on geologic

Gents that shall exhume them later,

In the dim and distant future,

Taking them for melancholy

Relics antedating Adam.

I alone got up and dusted.

 

NOZZLE:

 

Avaunt! you horrid and infernal cuss!

What dire distress have you prepared for us?

 

RINGDIVVY:

 

Were I a buzzard stooping from the sky

My craw with filth to fill,

Into your honorable body I

Would introduce a bill.

 

FEEGOBBLE:

 

Defendant, hence, or, by the gods, I’ll brain thee!-

Unless you saved some turneps to retain me.

 

HAYSEED:

 

As I was saying, I got up and dusted,

My ranch a graveyard and my business busted!

But hearing that a fellow from the City,

Who calls himself a Citizens’ Committee,

Was coming up to play the very dickens,

With those who cover up our farms with slickens,

And make himself-unless I am in error

To all such miscreants a holy terror,

I thought if I would join the dialogue

I maybe might get payment for my dog.

 

ALL (_Singing_):

 

O the dog is the head of Creation,

Prime work of the Master’s hand;

He hasn’t a known occupation,

Yet lives on the fat of the land.

Adipose, indolent, sleek and orbicular,

Sun-soaken, door matted, cross and particular,

Men, women, children, all coddle and wait on him,

Then, accidentally shutting the gate on him,

Miss from their calves, ever after, the rifted out

Mouthful of tendons that doggy has lifted out!

(_Enter Junket_.)

 

JUNKET:

 

Well met, my hearties! I must trouble you

Jointly and severally to provide

A comfortable carriage, with relays

Of hardy horses. This Committee means

To move in state about the country here.

I shall expect at every place I stop

Good beds, of course, and everything that’s nice,

With bountiful repast of meat and wine.

For this Committee comes to sea and mark

And inwardly digest.

 

HAYSEED:

 

Digest my dog!

 

NOZZLE:

 

First square my claim for damages: the gold

Escaping with the slickens keeps me poor!

 

RINGDIVVY:

 

I merely would remark that if you’d grease

My itching palm it would more glibly glide

Into the public pocket.

 

FEEGOBBLE:

 

Sir, the wheels

Of justice move but slowly till they’re oiled.

I have some certain writs and warrants here,

Prepared against your advent. You recall

The tale of Zaccheus, who did climb a tree,

And Jesus said: 'Come down’?

 

JUNKET:

 

Why, bless your souls!

I’ve got no money; I but came to see

What all this noisy babble is about,

Make a report and file the same away.

 

NOZZLE, RINGDIVVY, FEEGOBBLE, HAYSEED:

 

How’ll that help _us_? Reports are not our style

Of provender!

 

JUNKET:

 

Well, you can gnaw the file.



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