BALLAD OF ELKANAH B. ATKINSON
Elkanah B. Atkinson’s tarvun was run
On a plan that was strictly his own;
And he “reckoned that dudified sons of a gun”
Would far better leave him alone.
He allowed that he always had plenty to eat
For folks that liked vitt-u-als plain;
An’ when ye came down to pettaters and meat
His house was a credit to Maine.
The garding truck they raised themselves,
They killed their pork; and the but’ry shelves
Jest fairly groaned with jells and jams;
—In a shed out back they smoked their hams.
And old Elkanah used to brag
They laid down pickles by the kag;
And they had the darndest hens to lay
—Got fifty eggs most ev’ry day—
And ev’ry egg was big’s your fist
And fresher’n a whiff of mountain mist.
The whole blamed house it used to shake
When old Elkanah pounded steak,
For he used to say what made meat tough
Was ’cause some cooks warn’t strong enough.
And he piled the grub right on sky-high:
Soup and meat and fish and pie
—All the courses on first whack—
And then Elkanah he’d stand back
And say: “There, people, now hoe in;
When ye’ve et that grub, pass up ag’in;
Of course we hain’t no big hotel,
But some few things, why, we dew well.”
P. Mortimer Perkins came down from New
York,
—A salesman for corsets and things;
With his trousers all creased and a lah-de-dah
walk,
As if he were jiggered by strings;—
Arrived at the Atkinson tarvun one night
And says to Elkanah, says he:
“I want to be called just as soon as it’s light,
For I’m going first train, don’t ye see.
It’s very important I go by first train,
But I find in these country hotels
The service ye get gives a fellah a pain
—They don’t even answer the bells.
Now I want to be called for that train, me good
man,
For it’s very important I go;
Now weally, old chappie, please see if you can
Just do a thing right once, y’ know-
Ye may call me at four, and at half after four
I’ll bweakfast; now recollect, please!
Before I wetire I’ll tell you once more;
—You’ll get the idea by degwees.”
Elkanah B. Atkinson lowered his specs
To the very tip-end of his nose;
Says he: “When a feller he really expec’s
To go by that train, wal—he goes.
Jest fall right asleep and don’t worry a mite;
This hain’t -no big city hotel,
But we’ll git ye to goin’ termorrer all right,
For there’s some things we dew fairly well.”
Elkanah B. Atkinson sat all night
And kept the office fire bright.
He nodded some and yawned and smoked,
And at half-past three he went and poked
The kitchen fire; then pounded steak
And set potatoes in to bake.
Started the coffee and all the rest
And then went up to call his guest.
Bangity, whang! on the cracked old door!
Whangity, bang! It checked a snore.
P. Mortimer Perkins opened his eyes
In the cold dark dawn with much surprise,
And under the coverlet warm and thick
On the good, old-fashioned feather tick,
Felt the cold on his nose like a frosty knife
And was never so sleepy in all his life.
But still bang, whang on the cracked old door!
And Elkanah shouting, “Mos’ ha’f-pas’ four!”
But the louder the old man pounded and yapped
The more the drummer garped and gapped.
At last says he: “Is it stormy—oh-h-h?”
“Wall,” says Elkanah, “she’s spittin’ snow.”
P. Mortimer Perkins snuggled down
And says he, “This isn’t a blamed bad town;
I say, old man, now please go’way,
I’ve changed my mind, and I guess I’ll stay.”
Elkanah B. Atkinson then says he:
“This changin’ minds is a bad idee;
I’ve set in that office there all night
So’s I could git ye up all right.
An’ breakfus’ is on, an’ the coffee’s hot;
Now, friend, ye can go on that train or not,
But I tell ye now, right off- the reel,
Ye’re goin’ to git up and eat that meal.”
P. Mortimer Perkins cursed and swore,
But Elkanah slammed right through that door,
And he pulled that drummer out of bed
And brandished a chair’round over his head;
He poked his ribs and made him dress
So sleepy still that his gait cut S
As he staggered down to the dining-room
And ate his meal in the cheerless gloom,
While over him stood the grim old man
With a stick and a steaming coffee can.
“Now, mister,” allowed Elkanah, “sence
It’s a special breakfus’ it’s thutty cents.”
When the feller paid, as meek’s a pup,
And stuttered “Now, can I be put up?”
“Why, sartin, mister,” Elkanah said;
“Ye can go to tophet or back to bed;
There hain’t hard feelin’s, no, none at all,
But when a feller he leaves a call
At the Atkinson House for an early meal,
He gits it served right up genteel,
An’ when it’s served, wal, now you bet
There hain’t no peace till that meal’s been et.
Of course we hain’t no big hotel,
But some few things we dew quite well.”