THE SOCIETY UPON THE STANISLAUS.
I reside at Table Mountain, and my name is Truthful James: I am not up to small deceit or any sinful games; And I'll tell in simple language what I know about the row That broke up our Society upon the Stanislow.
But first I would remark, that 'tis not a proper plan For any scientific gent to whale his fellow-man; And, if a member don't agree with his peculiar whim, To lay for that same member for to "put a head" on him.
Now, nothing could be finer, or more beautiful to see, Than the first six months' proceedings of that same society; Till Brown of Calaveras brought a lot of fossil bones That he found within a tunnel near the tenement of Jones.
Then Brown he read a paper, and he reconstructed there, From those same bones, an animal that was extremely rare; And Jones then asked the Chair for a suspension of the rules, Till he could prove that those same bones was one of his lost mules.
Then Brown he smiled a bitter smile, and said he was at fault; It seemed he had been trespassing on Jones's family vault; He was a most sarcastic man this quiet Mr. Brown, And on several occasions he had cleaned out the town.
Now I hold it is not decent for a scientific gent To say another is an ass,—at least, to all intent; Nor should the individual who happens to be meant Reply by heaving rocks at him to any great extent.
Then Abner Dean of Angel's raised a point of order, when A chunk of old red sandstone took him in the abdomen; And he smiled a kind of sickly smile, and curled upon the floor, And the subsequent proceedings interested him no more.
For in less time than I write it, every member did engage In a warfare with the remnants of a palæozoic age; And the way they heaved those fossils in their anger was a sin, Till the skull of an old mammoth caved the head of Thompson in.