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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=342972" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Oleomargarine Man</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Once-in the county of Marin,<br>Where milk is sold to purchase gin<br>Renowned for butter and renowned<br>For fourteen ounces to the pound<br>A bull stood watching every turn<br>Of Mr. Wilson with a churn,<br>As that deigning worthy stalked<br>About him, eying as he walked,<br>El Toro's sleek and silken hide,<br>His neck, his flank and all beside;<br>Thinking with secret joy: 'I'll spread<br>That mammal on a slice of bread!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Soon Mr. Wilson's keen concern<br>To get the creature in his churn<br>Unhorsed his caution-made him blind<br>To the fell vigor of bullkind,<br>Till, filled with valor to the teeth,<br>He drew his dasher from its sheath<br>And bravely brandished it; the while<br>He smiled a dark, portentous smile;<br>A deep, sepulchral smile; a wide<br>And open smile, which, at his side,<br>The churn to copy vainly tried;<br>A smile so like the dawn of doom<br>That all the field was palled in gloom,<br>And all the trees within a mile,<br>As tribute to that awful smile,<br>Made haste, with loyalty discreet,<br>To fling their shadows at his feet.<br>Then rose his battle-cry: 'I'll spread<br>That mammal on a slice of bread!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">To such a night the day had turned<br>That Taurus dimly was discerned.<br>He wore so meek and grave an air<br>It seemed as if, engaged in prayer<br>This thunderbolt incarnate had<br>No thought of anything that's bad:<br>This concentrated earthquake stood<br>And gave his mind to being good.<br>Lightly and low he drew his breath<br>This magazine of sudden death!<br>All this the thrifty Wilson's glance<br>Took in, and, crying, 'Now's my chance!'<br>Upon the bull he sprang amain<br>To put him in his churn. Again<br>Rang out his battle-yell: 'I'll spread<br>That mammal on a slice of bread!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Sing, Muse, that battle-royal-sing<br>The deeds that made the region ring,<br>The blows, the bellowing, the cries,<br>The dust that darkened all the skies,<br>The thunders of the contest, all<br>Nay, none of these things did befall.<br>A yell there was-a rush-no more:<br>El Toro, tranquil as before,<br>Still stood there basking in the sun,<br>Nor of his legs had shifted one<br>Stood there and conjured up his cud<br>And meekly munched it. Scenes of blood<br>Had little charm for him. His head<br>He merely nodded as he said:<br>'I've spread that butterman upon<br>A slice of Southern Oregon.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Ambrose+Bierce">Ambrose Bierce</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=342972" data-title="The Oleomargarine Man de Ambrose Bierce" data-description="Once-in the county of Marin,
Where milk is sold to purchase gin
Renowned for butter and renowned
For fourteen ounces to the pound
A bull stood watching every turn
Of Mr. Wilson with a churn,
As that deigning worthy stalked
About him, eying as he w..."></div>
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