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Classic and Contemporary Poetry


PATENT BROWN STOUT by HORACE SMITH

First Line: A BREWER, IN A COUNTRY TOWN
Last Line: "AND BOIL HIM DOWN AT EVERY BREWING?"
Subject(s): AFRICAN AMERICANS; DRINKS & DRINKING; NEGROES; AMERICAN BLACKS; WINE;

A BREWER, in a country town,
Had got a monstrous reputation;
No other beer but his went down; --
The hosts of the surrounding station
Engraved his name upon their mugs,
And painted it on every shutter;
And though some envious folks would utter
Hints, that its flavour came from drugs,
Others maintained 'twas no such matter,
But owing to his monstrous vat,
At least as corpulent as that
At Heidelberg -- and some said fatter.

His foreman was a lusty Black,
An honest fellow;
But one who had an ugly knack
Of tasting samples as he brewed,
Till he was stupefied and mellow.
One day, in this top-heavy mood,
Having to cross the vat aforesaid,
(Just then with boiling beer supplied,)
O'ercome with giddiness and qualms, he
Reeled -- fell in -- and nothing more said,
But in his favourite liquor died,
Like Clarence in his butt of Malmsey.

In all directions round about
The negro absentee was sought;
But as no human noddle thought
That our Fat Black was now Brown Stout,
They settled that the rogue had left
The place for debt, or crime or theft.
Meanwhile the beer was, day by day,
Drawn into casks and sent away,
Until the lees flowed thick and thicker;
When lo! outstretched upon the ground,
Once more their missing friend they found,
As they had often done - in liquor.

"See!" cried his moralizing master,
"I always knew the fellow drank hard,
And prophesied some sad disaster;
His fate should other tipplers strike:
Poor Mungo! there he welters, like
A toast at bottom of a tankard!"
Next morn a publican, whose tap
Had helped to drain the vat so dry,
Not having heard of the mishap,
Came to demand a fresh supply,
Protesting loudly that the last
All previous specimens surpassed,
Possessing a much richer @3gusto@1
Than formerly it ever used to,
And begging, as a special favour,
Some more of the exact same flavour. --
"Zounds!" cried the Brewer, "that's a task
More difficult to grant than ask: --
Most gladly would I give the smack
Of the last beer to the ensuing,
But where am I to find a Black,
And boil him down at every brewing?"



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