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Title: A Celebrated Case
Author: Ambrose Bierce [
More Titles by Bierce]
Way down in the Boom Belt lived Mrs. Roselle;
A person named Petrie, he lived there as well;
But Mr. Roselle he resided away--
Sing tooral iooral iooral iay.
Once Mrs. Roselle in her room was alone:
The flesh of her flesh and the bone of her bone
Neglected the wife of his bosom to woo--
Sing tooral iooral iooral ioo.
Then Petrie, her lover, appeared at the door,
Remarking: "My dear; I don't love you no more."
"That's awfully rough," said the lady, "on me--
Sing tooral iooral iooral iee."
"Come in, Mr. Petrie," she added, "pray do:
Although you don't love me no more, I love you.
Sit down while I spray you with vitriol now--
Sing tooral iooral iooral iow."
Said Petrie: "That liquid I know won't agree
With my beauty, and then you'll no longer love me;
So spray and be "--O, what a word he did say!--
Sing tooral iooral iooral iay.
She deluged his head and continued to pour
Till his bonny blue eyes, like his love, were no more.
It was seldom he got such a hearty shampoo--
Sing tooral iooral iooral ioo.
Then Petrie he rose and said: "Mrs. Roselle,
I have an engagement and bid you farewell."
"You see," she began to explain--but not he!--
Sing tooral, iooral, iooral iee.
The Sheriff he came and he offered his arm,
Saying, "Sorry I am for disturbin' you, marm,
But business is business." Said she, "So they say--
Sing tooral, iooral, iooral iay."
The Judge on the bench he looked awfully stern;
The District Attorney began to attorn;
The witnesses lied and the lawyers--O my!--
Sing tooral, iooral, iooral iyi.
The chap that defended her said: "It's our claim
That he loved us no longer and told us the same.
What else than we did could we decently do?--
Sing tooral, iooral, iooral ioo."
The District Attorney, sarcastic, replied:
"We loved you no longer--that can't be denied.
Not having no eyes we may dote on you now--
Sing tooral, iooral, iooral iow."
The prisoner wept to entoken her fears;
The sockets of Petrie were flooded with tears.
O heaven-born Sympathy, bully for you!--
Sing tooral, iooral, iooral ioo.
Four jurors considered the prisoner mad,
And four thought her victim uncommonly bad,
And four that the acid was all in his eye--
Sing rum tiddy iddity iddity hi.
[The end]
Ambrose Bierce's poem: Celebrated Case
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