Classic and Contemporary Poetry
THE PROCTORSVILLE AND WINDSOR, VERMONT, STAGE, by DANIEL LEAVENS CADY Poet's Biography First Line: When I was 'round the wide-eyed age Last Line: You bet, he glorified that stage. Subject(s): Country Life; Vermont | ||||||||
WHEN I was 'round the wide-eyed age, And everything I saw a treat, Joe Stickney used to drive the stage From Proctorsville to Windsor Street; Some stage, you bet, some driver, too, He weighed, as near as I could guage, About the same as either nag That helped to haul his wondrous stage. A real Rhode Island thorough-brace You bet, with driver's seat up high, And underneath a kind of place To chuck the mail and keep it dry; The whole concern was painted up Like some Maine weekly's Christmas page I've seen Napoleon's coach, but say, It couldn't touch Joe Stickney's stage. And Golly! how she rolled and pitched It made Nell Moody's feathers flop But when the nags was both unhitched The neap stood up without a prop; The big square rack stuck on behind Would hold the Baptist parsonage, And there was curtins at the doors You bet, it was a classy stage. And saythe brakewe boys would point That out to every kid galoot, You know it had a "floating joint" And went by either hand or foot; And way on top a brass rail fence Run 'round and made a baggage cage For tony Massachusetts grips You bet, it was a dandy stage. Oh! I forgotI'm getting off Nell Moody was a country queen That lived out near the watering trough Jest where you turn for Woodstock Green; She liked Joe's horses, so she said, And called one "Mike" and 'tother "Mage" Ed Gardner guessed she rode with Joe To kinder "elevate the stage." When city boarder days begun, You bet, 'twas velvet times for Joe; He liked to see an ample run Of summer shad from "down below;" You'd s'pose all Boston knew his name, And Joe for weeks was quite the rage 'Twas "Mr. Stickney, How's your health?" And "Mr. Stickney, How's your stage?" No stop was made along his rout Where Joe would snake the mail bag in, He'd simply dump the dumb thing out And grin a sort of Felchville grin; But he'd go in himself, you bet, And if the cheese in sight was sage, He'd eat about a half a pound And say, "Jest charge it 'ginst the stage." Sometimes the teacher'd let us leave Our seats as Joe's bright car drew nigh; "Great Eastern," that's the name, I b'lieve, The teacher used to call it by; The strongest memory, though, that clings Around that wondrous equipage, Is seeing Hank White on in front You bet, he glorified that stage. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ORATION: HALF-MOON IN VERMONT by NORMAN DUBIE THE PHOTOGRAPHER'S ANNUAL by NORMAN DUBIE THE CROWS AT 3 A.M. by STANLEY PLUMLY ALBANY BUS STATION by RUTH STONE FALL COMES IN BACK-COUNTRY VERMONT by ROBERT PENN WARREN A SNOW-STORM; SCENE IN A VERMONT WINTER by CHARLES GAMAGE EASTMAN A VERMONT 'DONATION' by DANIEL LEAVENS CADY A VERMONT 'DONATION' by DANIEL LEAVENS CADY |
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