Casey's Table D'hë'te Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis

Rhyme Scheme: AAAABBCCDD EEFFGGHHDD IIJJFFAADD KKL MMNNDD OOIIPPQQDD RRSSTTUUDD VVW IIAADD DDDDOOEEDD

Oh them days on Red Hoss Mountain when the skies wuz fair 'nd blueA
When the money flowed like likker 'nd the folks wuz brave 'nd trueA
When the nights wuz crisp 'nd balmy 'nd the camp wuz all astirA
With the joints all throwed wide open 'nd no sheriff to demurA
Oh them times on Red Hoss Mountain in the Rockies fur awayB
There's no sich place nor times like them as I kin find to dayB
What though the camp hez busted I seem to see it stillC
A lyin' like it loved it on that big 'nd warty hillC
And I feel a sort of yearnin' 'nd a chokin' in my throatD
When I think of Red Hoss Mountain 'nd of Casey's tabble doteD
-
Wal yes it's true I struck it rich but that don't cut a showE
When one is old 'nd feeble 'nd it's nigh his time to goE
The money that he's got in bonds or carries to investF
Don't figger with a codger who has lived a life out WestF
Us old chaps like to set around away from folks 'nd noiseG
'Nd think about the sights we seen and things we done when boysG
The which is why I love to set 'nd think of them old daysH
When all us Western fellers got the Colorado crazeH
And that is why I love to set around all day 'nd gloatD
On thoughts of Red Hoss Mountain 'nd of Casey's tabble doteD
-
This Casey wuz an Irishman you'd know it by his nameI
And by the facial features appertainin' to the sameI
He'd lived in many places 'nd had done a thousand thingsJ
From the noble art of actin' to the work of dealin' kingsJ
But somehow hadn't caught on so driftin' with the restF
He drifted for a fortune to the undeveloped WestF
And he come to Red Hoss Mountain when the little camp wuz newA
When the money flowed like likker 'nd the folks wuz brave 'nd trueA
And havin' been a stewart on a Mississippi boatD
He opened up a caffy 'nd he run a tabble doteD
-
The bar wuz long 'nd rangy with a mirrer on the shelfK
'Nd a pistol so that Casey when required could help himselfK
Down underneath there wuz a row of bottled beer 'nd wineL
'Nd a kag of Burbun whiskey of the run of '-
Upon the walls wuz pictures of hosses 'nd of girlsM
Not much on dress perhaps but strong on records 'nd on curlsM
The which had been identified with Casey in the pastN
The hosses 'nd the girls I mean and both wuz mighty fastN
But all these fine attractions wuz of precious little noteD
By the side of what wuz offered at Casey's tabble doteD
-
There wuz half a dozen tables altogether in the placeO
And the tax you had to pay upon your vittles wuz a caseO
The boardin' houses in the camp protested 't wuz a shameI
To patronize a robber which this Casey wuz the sameI
They said a case was robbery to tax for ary mealP
But Casey tended strictly to his biz 'nd let 'em squealP
And presently the boardin' houses all began to bustQ
While Casey kept on sawin' wood 'nd layin' in the dustQ
And oncet a tray'lin' editor from Denver City wroteD
A piece back to his paper puffin' Casey's tabble doteD
-
A tabble dote is different from orderin' aller cartR
In one case you git all there is in t' other only partR
And Casey's tabble dote began in French as all beginS
And Casey's ended with the same which is to say with vinS
But in between wuz every kind of reptile bird 'nd beastT
The same like you can git in high toned restauraws down eastT
'Nd windin' up wuz cake or pie with coffee demy tassU
Or sometimes floatin' Ireland in a soothin' kind of sassU
That left a sort of pleasant ticklin' in a feller's throatD
'Nd made him hanker after more of Casey's tabble doteD
-
The very recollection of them puddin's 'nd them piesV
Brings a yearnin' to my buzzum 'nd the water to my eyesV
'Nd seems like cookin' nowadays ain't what it used to beW
In camp on Red Hoss Mountain in that year of '-
But maybe it is better 'nd maybe I'm to blameI
I'd like to be a livin' in the mountains jest the sameI
I'd like to live that life again when skies wuz fair 'nd blueA
When things wuz run wide open 'nd men wuz brave 'nd trueA
When brawny arms the flinty ribs of Red Hoss Mountain smoteD
For wherewithal to pay the price of Casey's tabble doteD
-
And you O cherished brother a sleepin' 'way out westD
With Red Hoss Mountain huggin' you close to its lovin' breastD
Oh do you dream in your last sleep of how we used to doD
Of how we worked our little claims together me 'nd youD
Why when I saw you last a smile wuz restin' on your faceO
Like you wuz glad to sleep forever in that lonely placeO
And so you wuz 'nd I 'd be too if I wuz sleepin' soE
But bein' how a brother's love ain't for the world to knowE
Whenever I've this heartache 'nd this chokin' in my throatD
I lay it all to thinkin' of Casey's tabble doteD

Eugene Field



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