THE "Orchids" were as tough a crowd As Boston anywhere allowed; It was a club of wicked men -- The oldest, twelve, the youngest, ten; They drank their soda colored green, They talked of "Art" and "Philistine," They wore buff "wescoats" and their hair, It used to make the waiters stare! They were so shockingly behaved And Boston thought them @3so@1 depraved, Policemen, stationed at the door, Would raid them every hour o more! They used to smoke (!) and laugh out loud (!) They were a very devilish crowd! They formed a Cult, far subtler, brainier, Than ordinary Anglomania, For all as Jacobites were reckoned, And gayly toasted Charles the Second! (What would the Bonnie Charlie say If he could see that crowd to-day?) Fitz-Willieboy McFlubadub Was Regent of the Orchid's Club; A wild Bohemian was he, And spent his money fast and free. He thought no more of spending dimes On some debauch of pickled limes, Than you would think of spending nickels To buy a pint of German pickles! The Boston maiden passed him by With sidelong glances of her eye, She dared not speak (he @3was@1 so wild), Yet worshipped this Lotharian child. Fitz-Willieboy was so @3blase@1, He burned a @3Transcript@1 up, one day! The Orchids fashioned all their style On Flubadub's infernal guile. That awful Boston oath was his, -- @3He@1 used to jaculate, "Gee-Whiz!" He showed them that immoral haunt, The dirty Chinese Restaurant, And there they'd find him, even when It got to be as late as ten! He ate chopped @3suey@1 (with a fork), You should have heard the villain talk Of one @3reporter@1 that he knew (!) An artist, and an actor, too!!! The orchids went from bad to worse, Made epigrams -- attempted verse! Boston was horrified and shocked To hear the way these Orchids mocked, For they made fun of Boston ways, And called good men Provincial Jays! The end must come to such a story, Gone is the wicked Orchids' glory, The room was raided by police, One night, for breaches of the Peace (There had been laughter, long and loud, In Boston this is not allowed), And there, the sergeant of the squad Found awful evidence, -- my God! -- Fitz-Willieboy McFlubadub, The Regent of the Orchids' Club, Had written on the window sill, This shocking outrage -- "@3Beacon H -- ll!@1" | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TRANSFORMATION by CARL SANDBURG THE END OF THE PLAY by WILLIAM MAKEPEACE THACKERAY TRACT by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS THE STORM by ANNA A. ARMBRUSTER THE GRAVE OF COLUMBUS by JOANNA BAILLIE A DAISY FROM THE PARTHENON by CHARLOTTE FISKE BATES |