But at the 〃Commercial〃 I saw a man
Who winked at me as I asked for work
It was Wash McNeely's son。
He proved the link in the chain of title
To half my ownership of the mansion；
Through a breach of promise suitthe scissors。
So； you see； the house； from the day I was born；
Was only waiting for me。
Seth Compton
WHEN I died； the circulating library
Which I built up for Spoon River；
And managed for the good of inquiring minds；
Was sold at auction on the public square；
As if to destroy the last vestige
Of my memory and influence。
For those of you who could not see the virtue
Of knowing Volney's 〃Ruins〃 as well as Butler's 〃Analogy〃
And 〃Faust〃 as well as 〃Evangeline；〃
Were really the power in the village；
And often you asked me
〃What is the use of knowing the evil in the world？〃
I am out of your way now； Spoon River；
Choose your own good and call it good。
For I could never make you see
That no one knows what is good
Who knows not what is evil；
And no one knows what is true
Who knows not what is false。
Felix Schmidt
IT was only a little house of two rooms
Almost like a child's play…house
With scarce five acres of ground around it；
And I had so many children to feed
And school and clothe； and a wife who was sick
From bearing children。
One day lawyer Whitney came along
And proved to me that Christian Dallman；
Who owned three thousand acres of land；
Had bought the eighty that adjoined me
In eighteen hundred and seventy…one
For eleven dollars； at a sale for taxes；
While my father lay in his mortal illness。
So the quarrel arose and I went to law。
But when we came to the proof；
A survey of the land showed clear as day
That Dallman's tax deed covered my ground
And my little house of two rooms。
It served me right for stirring him up。
I lost my case and lost my place。
I left the court room and went to work
As Christian Dallman's tenant。
Richard Bone
When I first came to Spoon River
I did not know whether what they told me
Was true or false。
They would bring me the epitath
And stand around the shop while I worked
And say 〃He was so kind；〃 〃He was so wonderful；〃
〃She was the sweetest woman；〃 〃He was a consistent Christian。〃
And I chiseled for them whatever they wished；
All in ignorance of the truth。
But later； as I lived among the people here；
I knew how near to the life
Were the epitaths that were ordered for them as they died。
But still I chiseled whatever they paid me to chisel
And made myself party to the false chronicles
Of the stones；
Even as the historian does who writes
Without knowing the truth；
Or because he is influenced to hide it。
Silas Dement
It was moon…light； and the earth sparkled
With new…fallen frost。
It was midnight and not a soul abroad。
Out of the chimney of the court…house
A gray…hound of smoke leapt and chased
The northwest wind。
I carried a ladder to the landing of the stairs
And leaned it against the frame of the trap…door
In the ceiling of the portico；
And I crawled under the roof and amid the rafters
And flung among the seasoned timbers
A lighted handful of oil…soaked waste。
Then I came down and slunk away。
In a little while the fire…bell rang
Clang！ Clang！ Clang！
And the Spoon River ladder company
Came with a dozen buckets and began to pour water
On the glorious bon…fire； growing hotter
Higher and brighter； till the walls fell in
And the limestone columns where Lincoln stood
Crashed like trees when the woodman fells them 。
When I came back from Joliet
There was a new court house with a dome。
For I was punished like all who destroy
The past for the sake of the future。
Dillard Sissman
THE buzzards wheel slowly
In wide circles； in a sky
Faintly hazed as from dust from the road。
And a wind sweeps through the pasture where I lie
Beating the grass into long waves。
My kite is above the wind；
Though now and then it wobbles；
Like a man shaking his shoulders；
And the tail streams out momentarily；
Then sinks to rest。
And the buzzards wheel and wheel；
Sweeping the zenith with wide circles
Above my kite。 And the hills sleep。
And a farm house； white as snow；
Peeps from green treesfar away。
And I watch my kite；
For the thin moon will kindle herself ere long；
Then she will swing like a pendulum dial
To the tail of my kite。
A spurt of flame like a water…dragon
Dazzles my eyes
I am shaken as a banner。
E。 C。 Culbertson
Is it true； Spoon River；
That in the hallway of the New Court House
There is a tablet of bronze
Containing the embossed faces
Of Editor Whedon and Thomas Rhodes？
And is it true that my successful labors
In the County Board； without which
Not one stone would have been placed on another；
And the contributions out of my own pocket
To build the temple； are but memories among the people；
Gradually fading away； and soon to descend
With them to this oblivion where I lie？
In truth； I can so believe。
For it is a law of the Kingdom of Heaven
That whoso enters the vineyard at the eleventh hour
Shall receive a full day's pay。
And it is a law of the Kingdom of this World
That those who first oppose a good work
Seize it and make it their own；
When the cornerstone is laid；
And memorial tablets are erected。
Shack Dye
THE white men played all sorts of jokes on me。
They took big fish off my hook
And put little ones on； while I was away
Getting a stringer； and made me believe
I hadn't seen aright the fish I had caught。
When Burr Robbins； circus came to town
They got the ring master to let a tame leopard
Into the ring； and made me believe
I was whipping a wild beast like Samson
When l； for an offer of fifty dollars；
Dragged him out to his cage。
One time I entered my blacksmith shop
And shook as I saw some horse…shoes crawling
Across the floor； as if alive
Walter Simmons had put a magnet
Under the barrel of water。
Yet everyone of you； you white men；
Was fooled about fish and about leopards too；
And you didn't know any more than the horse…shoes did
What moved you about Spoon River。
Hildrup Tubbs
I MADE two fights for the people。
First I left my party； bearing the gonfalon
Of independence； for reform； and was defeated。
Next I used my rebel strength
To capture the standard of my old party
And I captured it； but I was defeated。
Discredited and discarded； misanthropical；
I turned to the solace of gold
And I used my remnant of power
To fasten myself like a saprophyte
Upon the putrescent carcass
Of Thomas Rhodes； bankrupt bank；
As assignee of the fund。
Everyone now turned from me。
My hair grew white；
My purple lusts grew gray；
Tobacco and whisky lost their savor
And for years Death ignored me
As he does a hog。
Henry Tripp
THE bank broke and I lost my savings。
I was sick of the tiresome game in Spoon River
And I made up my mind to run away
And leave my place in life and my family；
But just as the midnight train pulled in；
Quick off the steps jumped Cully Green
And Martin Vise； and began to fight
To settle their ancient rivalry；
Striking each other with fists that sounded
Like the blows of knotted clubs。
Now it seemed to me that Cully was winning；
When his bloody face broke into a grin
Of sickly cowardice； leaning on Martin
And whining out 〃We're good friends； Mart；
You know that I'm your friend。〃
But a terrible punch from Martin knocked him
Around and around and into a heap。
And then they arrested me as a witness；
And I lost my train and staid in Spoon River
To wage my battle of life to the end。
Oh； Cully Green； you were my savior
You； so ashamed and drooped for years；
Loitering listless about the streets；
And tying rags ；round your festering soul；
Who failed to fight it out。
Granville Calhoun
I WANTED to be County Judge
One more term； so as to round out a service
Of thirty years。
But my friends left me and joined my enemies；
And they elected a new man。
Then a spirit of revenge seized me；
And I infected my four sons with it；
And I brooded upon retaliation；
Until the great physician； Nature；
Smote me through with paralysis
To give my soul and body a rest。
Did my sons get power and money？
Did they serve the people or yoke them；
To till and harvest fields of self？
For how could they ever forget
My face at my bed…room window；
Sitting helpless amid my golden cages
Of singing canaries；
Looking at the old court…house？
Henry C。 Calhoun
I REACHED the highest place in Spoon River；
But through what bitterness of spirit！
The face of my father； sitting speechless；
Child…like； watching his canaries；
And looking at the court…house window
Of the county judge's room；
And his admonitions to me to seek
My own in life； and punish Spoon River
To avenge the wrong the people did him；
Filled me with furious energy
To seek for wealth and seek for power。
But what did he do but send me along
The path that leads to the grove of the Furies？
I followed the path and I tell you this：
On the way to the grove you'll pass the Fates；
Shadow…eyed； bent over their weaving。
Stop for a moment； and if you see
The thread of revenge leap out of the shuttle
Then quickly snatch from Atropos
The shears and cut it； lest your sons
And the children of them and their children
Wear the envenomed robe。
Alfred Moir
WHY was I not devoured by self…contempt；
And rotted down by indifference
And impotent revolt like Indignation Jones？
Why； with all of my errant steps
Did I miss the fate of Willard Fluke？
And why； though I stood at Burchard's bar；
As a sort of decoy for the house to the boys
To buy the drinks； did the curse of drink
Fall on me like rain that runs off；
Leaving the soul of me dry and clean？
And why did I never kill a man Like Jack McGuire？
But instead I mounted a little in life；
And I owe it all to a book I read。
But why did I go to Mason City；
Where I chanced to see the book in a window；
With its garish cover luring my eye？
And why did my soul respond to the book；
As I read it over and over？
Perry Zoll
MY thanks； friends of the
County Scientific Association；
For this modest boulder；
And its little tablet of bronze。
Twice I tried to join your honored body；
And was rejected
And when my little brochure
On the intelligence of plants
Began to attract attention
You almost voted me in。