And now this City was just what you'd find
A city anywhere—
A turmoil and a Vanity Fair,
A sort of heaven and a sort of Tophet.
There were so many leaders of his kind
The city didn't care
For one additional prophet.
He said some extravagant things
And planted a few stings
Under the rich man's hide.
And one of the sensational newspapers
Gave him a line or two for cutting capers
In front of the Palace of Justice and the Church.
But all the first-grade people took the other side
Of the street when they saw him coming,
With a rag-tag crowd singing and humming,
And curious boys and men up in a perch
Of a tree or window taking the spectacle in,
And the Corybantic din
Of a Salvation Army, as it were,
And whatever he dreamed when he lived in a little town
The intelligent people ignored him, and this is the stir,
And the only stir, he made in the city.
But there was a certain sinister
Fellow who came to him hearing of his renown
And said, "You can be mayor of this city—
We need a man like you for mayor."
And others said, "You'd make a lawyer or a politician—
[295]
