Poems (Howard)/A Difference of Opinion

by Hattie Howard

A Difference of Opinion.

Before the pile of blazing logs
 A burgher in his kitchen sat,
His feet upon the fire-dogs,
 His form encased in flaccid fat;
And sipped his toddy from the mug
 Whose foaming element was drawn
From that familiar, earthen jug
 That topers live and thrive upon.

A typic product of the land
 Whose scions hold forever dear
The native, true, Teutonic brand
 Of sparkling ale and lager beer;
A jolly soul, like "Old King Cole,"
 Of visage rubicund was he,
Who loved his meerschaum and his bowl
 And boon companions' revelry.

The patient spouse who meekly shared
 His home and toil, but not his glee,
The matutinal meal prepared
 With quiet, quaint dexterity;
But, while the smoking viands rolled
 Their odor out, a smothered sigh
From her lymphatic partner told
 That Death, unbidden guest, was nigh.

········

So, quickly sped the mystery;
 While proximate inhabitants,
Who preconceived how it would be,
 Met each to each with knowing glance;
And filled again the master's cup
 And sympathy and sorrow told;
And, while they drank its contents up,
 His relict tenderly consoled.

The coroner and all his clique
 Sat on the body, just as if
They meant to make the dead man speak
 And tell how he became so stiff;
As happens oft when one is drowned
 The jurymen clear up the doubt
By sitting on the body found—
 As if to squeeze the water out.

And thus they gave the cause of death;
 The savants as with one accord
Agreed "'twas either want of breath,
 Or visitation from the Lord!"
The neighbors whispered "Too much beer!"
 But we, more liberal inclined,
Suggest with honesty sincere,
 "It might have been all three combined?"