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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=391088" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>With brutus in st. jo</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Of all the opry-houses then obtaining in the West<br>The one which Milton Tootle owned was, by all odds, the best;<br>Milt, being rich, was much too proud to run the thing alone,<br>So he hired an &quot;acting manager,&quot; a gruff old man named Krone--<br>A stern, commanding man with piercing eyes and flowing beard,<br>And his voice assumed a thunderous tone when Jack and I appeared;<br>He said that Julius Caesar had been billed a week or so,<br>And would have to have some armies by the time he reached St. Jo!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">O happy days, when Tragedy still winged an upward flight,<br>When actors wore tin helmets and cambric robes at night!<br>O happy days, when sounded in the public's rapturous ears<br>The creak of pasteboard armor and the clash of wooden spears!<br>O happy times for Jack and me and that one other supe<br>That then and there did constitute the noblest Roman's troop!<br>With togas, battle axes, shields, we made a dazzling show,<br>When we were Roman soldiers with Brutus in St. Jo!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">We wheeled and filed and double-quicked wherever Brutus led,<br>The folks applauding what we did as much as what he said;<br>'T was work, indeed; yet Jack and I were willing to allow<br>'T was easier following Brutus than following father's plough;<br>And at each burst of cheering, our valor would increase--<br>We tramped a thousand miles that night, at fifty cents apiece!<br>For love of Art--not lust for gold--consumed us years ago,<br>When we were Roman soldiers with Brutus in St. Jo!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">To-day, while walking in the Square, Jack Langrish says to me:<br>&quot;My friend, the drama nowadays ain't what it used to be!<br>These farces and these comedies--how feebly they compare<br>With that mantle of the tragic art which Forrest used to wear!<br>My soul is warped with bitterness to think that you and I--<br>Co-heirs to immortality in seasons long gone by--<br>Now draw a paltry stipend from a Boston comic show,<br>We, who were Roman soldiers with Brutus in St. Jo!&quot;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And so we talked and so we mused upon the whims of Fate<br>That had degraded Tragedy from its old, supreme estate;<br>And duly, at the Morton bar, we stigmatized the age<br>As sinfully subversive of the interests of the Stage!<br>For Jack and I were actors in the halcyon, palmy days<br>Long, long before the Hoyt school of farce became the craze;<br>Yet, as I now recall it, it was twenty years ago<br>That we were Roman soldiers with Brutus in St. Jo!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">We were by birth descended from a race of farmer kings<br>Who had done eternal battle with grasshoppers and things;<br>But the Kansas farms grew tedious--we pined for that delight<br>We read of in the Clipper in the barber's shop by night!<br>We would be actors--Jack and I--and so we stole away<br>From our native spot, Wathena, one dull September day,<br>And started for Missouri--ah, little did we know<br>We were going to train as soldiers with Brutus in St. Jo!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Our army numbered three in all--Marc Antony's was four;<br>Our army hankered after fame, but Marc's was after gore!<br>And when we reached Philippi, at the outset we were met<br>With an inartistic gusto I can never quite forget.<br>For Antony's overwhelming force of thumpers seemed to be<br>Resolved to do &quot;them Kansas jays&quot;--and that meant Jack and me!<br>My lips were sealed but that it seems quite proper you should know<br>That Rome was nowhere in it at Philippi in St. Jo!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I've known the slow-consuming grief and ostentatious pain<br>Accruing from McKean Buchanan's melancholy Dane;<br>Away out West I've witnessed Bandmann's peerless hardihood,<br>With Arthur Cambridge have I wrought where walking was not good;<br>In every phase of horror have I bravely borne my part,<br>And even on my uppers have I proudly stood for Art!<br>And, after all my suffering, it were not hard to show<br>That I got my allopathic dose with Brutus at St. Jo!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">That army fell upon me in a most bewildering rage<br>And scattered me and mine upon that histrionic stage;<br>My toga rent, my helmet gone and smashed to smithereens,<br>They picked me up and hove me through whole centuries of scenes!<br>I sailed through Christian eras and mediæval gloom<br>And fell from Arden forest into Juliet's painted tomb!<br>Oh, yes, I travelled far and fast that night, and I can show<br>The scars of honest wounds I got with Brutus in St. Jo!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Ah me, old Davenport is gone, of fickle fame forgot,<br>And Barrett sleeps forever in a much neglected spot;<br>Fred Warde, the papers tell me, in far woolly western lands<br>Still flaunts the banner of high Tragic Art at one-night stands;<br>And Jack and I, in Charley Hoyt's Bostonian dramas wreak<br>Our vengeance on creation at some eensty dolls per week.<br>By which you see that public taste has fallen mighty low<br>Since we fought as Roman soldiers with Brutus in St. Jo!</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Eugene+Field">Eugene Field</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=391088" data-title="With brutus in st. jo de Eugene Field" data-description="Of all the opry-houses then obtaining in the West
The one which Milton Tootle owned was, by all odds, the best;
Milt, being rich, was much too proud to run the thing alone,
So he hired an &quot;acting manager,&quot; a gruff old man named Krone--
A..."></div>
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