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The Man Who Worked With Dana On The "Sun".
by Eugene FieldThar showed up out 'n Denver in the spring of '81
A man who'd worked with Dana on the Noo York Sun.
His name was Cantell Whoppers, 'nd he was a sight ter view
Ez he walked into the orfice 'nd inquired for work to do;
Thar warn't no places vacant then--fer, be it understood,
That was the time when talent flourished at that altitood;
But thar the stranger lingered, tellin' Raymond 'nd the rest
Uv what perdigious wonders he could do when at his best--
'Til finally he stated (quite by chance) that he had done
A heap uv work with Dana on the Noo York Sun.
Wall, that wuz quite another thing; we owned that ary cuss
Who'd worked f'r Mr. Dana must be good enough for us!
And so we tuk the stranger's word 'nd nipped him while we could,
For if we didn't take him we knew John Arkins would--
And Cooper, too, wuz mousin' round for enterprise 'nd brains,
Whenever them commodities blew in across the plains.
At any rate, we nailed him--which made ol' Cooper swear
And Arkins tear out handfuls uv his copious curly hair--
But we set back and cackled, 'nd had a power uv fun
With our man who'd worked with Dana on the Noo York Sun.
It made our eyes hang on our cheeks 'nd lower jaws ter drop
Ter hear that feller tellin' how ol' Dana run his shop;
It seems that Dana was the biggest man you ever saw--
He lived on human bein's 'nd preferred to eat 'em raw!
If he had democratic drugs to take, before he took 'em,
As good old allopathic laws prescribe, he allus shook 'em!
The man that could set down 'nd write like Dana never grew
And the sum of human knowledge wuzn't half what Dana knew.
The consequence appeared to be that nearly everyone
Concurred with Mr. Dana of the Noo York Sun.
This feller, Cantell Whoppers, never brought an item in--
He spent his time at Perrin's shakin' poker dice f'r gin;
Whatever the assignment, he wuz allus sure to shirk--
He wuz very long on likker and all-fired short on work!
If any other cuss had played the tricks he dare ter play,
The daisies would be bloomin' over his remains to-day;
But, somehow, folks respected him and stood him to the last,
Considerin' his superior connections in the past;
So, when he bilked at poker, not a sucker drew a gun
On the man who'd worked with Dana on the Noo York Sun.
Wall, Dana came ter Denver in the fall uv '83--
A very different party from the man we thought ter see!
A nice 'nd clean old gentleman, so dignerfied 'nd calm--
You bet yer life he never did no human bein' harm!
A certain hearty manner 'nd a fullness uv the vest
Betokened that his sperrits 'nd his victuals wuz the best;
His face was so benevolent, his smile so sweet 'nd kind,
That they seemed to be the reflex uv an honest, healthy mind,
And God had set upon his head a crown uv silver hair
In promise of the golden crown He meaneth him to wear;
So, uv us boys that met him out 'n Denver there wuz none
But fell in love with Dana uv the Noo York Sun.
But when he came to Denver in that fall uv '83
His old friend, Cantell Whoppers, disappeared upon a spree;
The very thought uv seein' Dana worked upon him so
(They hadn't been together fer a year or two, you know)
That he borrowed all the stuff he could and started on a bat,
And, strange as it may seem, we didn't see him after that.
So when ol' Dana hove in sight we couldn't understand
Why he didn't seem to notice that his crony wa'n't on hand;
No casual allusion--not a question, no, not one--
For the man who'd "worked with Dana on the Noo York Sun"!
We broke it gently to him, but he didn't seem surprised--
Thar wuz no big burst uv passion as we fellers had surmised;
He said that Whoppers wuz a man he didn't never heerd about,
But he might have carried papers on a Jersey City route--
And then he recollected hearin' Mr. Laflin say
That he fired a man named Whoppers fur bein' drunk one day,
Which, with more likker underneath than money in his vest,
Had started on a freight train fur the great 'nd boundin' West--
But further information or statistics he had none
Uv the man who'd "worked with Dana on the Noo York Sun."
We dropped the matter quietly 'nd never made no fuss--
When we get played fer suckers--why, that's a horse on us!
But every now 'nd then we Denver fellers have to laff
To hear some other paper boast uv havin' on its staff
A man who's "worked with Dana"--'nd then we fellers wink
And pull our hats down on our eyes 'nd set around 'nd think.
It seems like Dana couldn't be as smart as people say
If he educates so many folks 'nd lets 'em get away;
And, as for us, in future we'll be very apt to shun
The man who "worked with Dana on the Noo York Sun"!
But, bless ye, Mr. Dana! may you live a thousan' years,
To sort o' keep things lively in this vale of human tears;
An' may I live a thousan', too--a thousan', less a day,
For I shouldn't like to be on earth to hear you'd passed away.
And when it comes your time to go you'll need no Latin chaff
Nor biographic data put in your epitaph;
But one straight line of English and of truth will let folks know
The homage 'nd the gratitude 'nd reverence they owe;
You'll need no epitaph but this: "Here sleeps the man who run
That best 'nd brightest paper, the Noo York Sun."