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The Lives and Times of Archy and Mehitabel

Page 10

by Don Marquis


  for some chinless chump of a psychic

  nor death ain t worth living

  through would it be moral in me to

  queer that simp with his

  little circle by saying he s got an

  anonymous diamond brooch in his pocket

  and that his trances are rapidly developing

  his kleptomania no clarence i said it

  wouldn t be moral but it

  might be expedient there s a ghost

  around here i have been trying to get

  acquainted with but he is shy i think he is

  probably afraid of cockroaches

  archy

  she likely thinks she s nesting on her rocky island home

  some natural history

  the patagonian

  penguin

  is a most

  peculiar

  bird

  he lives on

  pussy

  willows

  and his tongue

  is always furred

  the porcupine

  of chile

  sleeps his life away

  and that is how

  the needles

  get into the hay

  the argentinian

  oyster

  is a very

  subtle gink

  for when he s

  being eaten

  he pretends he is

  a skink

  when you see

  a sea gull

  sitting

  on a bald man s dome

  she likely thinks

  she s nesting

  on her rocky

  island home

  do not tease

  the inmates

  when strolling

  through the zoo

  for they have

  their finer feelings

  the same

  as me and you

  oh deride not

  the camel

  if grief should

  make him die

  his ghost will come

  to haunt you

  with tears

  in either eye

  and the spirit of

  a camel

  in the midnight gloom

  can be so very

  cheerless

  as it wanders

  round the room

  archy

  prudence

  i do not think a prudent one

  will ever aim too high

  a cockroach seldom whips a dog

  and seldom should he try

  and should a locust take a vow

  to eat a pyramid

  he likely would wear out his teeth

  before he ever did

  l do not think the prudent one

  hastes to initiate

  a sequence of events which he

  lacks power to terminate

  for should i kick the woolworth tower

  so hard i laid it low

  it probably might injure me

  if it fell on my toe

  i do not think the prudent one

  will be inclined to boast

  lest circumstances unforeseen

  should get him goat and ghost

  for should i tell my friends i d drink

  the hudson river dry

  a tidal wave might come and turn

  my statements to a lie

  archy

  this morning—

  archy goes abroad

  london england

  since i have been

  residing in westminster

  abbey i have learned

  a secret that i desire

  to pass on to the psychic

  sharps it is this

  until the body of a human

  being perishes utterly

  the spirit is not

  released from its vicinity

  so long as there is any

  form left in the physical

  part of it the ghost can not go

  to heaven or to hell

  the ancient greeks

  understood this and they

  burned the body very often

  so that the spirit could

  get immediate release

  the ancient egyptians

  also knew it

  but they reacted differently

  to the knowledge

  they embalmed the body

  so that the form would

  persist for thousands

  of years and the ghost would have

  to stick around for a time

  here in westminster abbey

  there are hundreds of

  ghosts that have not yet

  been released

  some of them are able to wander

  a few miles away

  and some of them cannot

  go further than a few hundred

  yards from the graves

  where the bodies lie

  for the most part they make

  the best of it

  they go out on little

  excursions around london

  and at night they sit on

  their tombs and

  tell their experiences

  to each other

  it is perhaps the most

  exclusive club in london

  henry the eighth came in

  about three oclock this morning

  after rambling about

  piccadilly for a couple of hours

  and i wish i had the

  space to report in detail

  the ensuing conversation

  between him and charles dickens

  now and then

  a ghost can so influence

  a living person that you

  might say he had grabbed off

  that living person s body and was

  using it as his own

  edward the black prince

  was telling the gang

  the other evening

  that he had been leading the life

  of a city clerk for three weeks

  one of those birds

  with a top hat and a sack coat

  who come floating through

  the mist and drizzle

  with manuscript cases

  under their arms looking unreal

  even when they are not animated

  by ghosts edward the black prince

  who is known democratically

  as neddie black here

  says this clerk was a mild and

  humble wight when he took

  him over but he worked

  him up to the place where

  he assaulted a policeman

  Saturday night then left him flat

  one of the most pathetic

  sights however

  is to see the ghost of queen

  victoria going out every

  evening with the ghost

  of a sceptre in her hand

  to find mr lytton strachey

  and bean him it seems she beam.

  him and beans him and he

  never knows it

  and every night on the stroke

  of midnight elizabeth tudor

  is married to waiter raleigh by that

  eminent clergyman

  dr lawrence sterne

  the gang pulls a good many

  pageants which are written

  by ben jonson but i think

  the jinks will not be properly

  planned and staged until

  j m barrie gets here

  this is the jolliest bunch

  i have met in london

  they have learned

  since they passed over

  that appearances and suety

  pudding are not all they were

  cracked up to be more anon from your little friend

  archy

  archy at the tomb of napoleon

  paris france

  i went over to

  the hotel des invalides

  today and gazed on
/>
  the sarcophagus of the

  great napoleon

  and the thought came

  to me as i looked

  down indeed it

  is true napoleon

  that the best goods

  come in the smallest

  packages here are

  you napoleon with

  your glorious course

  run and here is

  archy just in the

  prime of his career

  with his greatest

  triumphs still before

  him neither one of us

  had a happy youth

  neither one of us

  was welcomed socially at

  the beginning of his

  career neither one of

  us was considered much

  to look at

  and in ten thousand years from

  now perhaps what you said and did

  napoleon will be

  confused with what

  archy said and did

  and perhaps the burial

  place of neither will be

  known napoleon looking

  down upon you

  i wish to ask you now

  frankly as one famous

  person to another

  has it been worth

  all the energy

  that we expended all the

  toil and trouble and

  turmoil that it cost us

  if you had your life

  to live over

  again bonaparte would

  you pursue the star

  of ambition

  i tell you frankly

  bonaparte that i myself

  would choose the

  humbler part

  i would put the temptation

  of greatness aside

  and remain an ordinary

  cockroach simple

  and obscure but alas

  there is a destiny that

  pushes one forward

  no matter how hard

  one may try to resist it

  i do not need to

  tell you about that

  bonaparte you know as

  much about it as i do

  yes looking at it in

  the broader way neither

  one of us has been to blame

  for what he has done

  neither for his great

  successes nor his great mistakes

  both of us napoleon

  were impelled by some

  mighty force external to

  ourselves we are both to

  be judged as great forces of

  nature as tools in the

  hand of fate rather than as

  individuals who willed to

  do what we have done

  we must be forgiven

  napoleon

  you and i

  when we have been

  different from the common

  run of creatures

  i forgive you as i know

  that you would forgive

  me could you speak to me

  and if you and i

  napoleon forgive and

  understand each other

  what matters it if all

  the world else find

  things in both of us that

  they find it hard

  to forgive and understand

  we have been

  what we have been

  napoleon and let them laugh that off

  well after an hour or so of

  meditation there i left

  actually feeling that i

  had been in communion

  with that great spirit and

  that for once in my

  life i had understood and been

  understood

  and i went away feeling

  solemn but likewise

  uplifted mehitabel the

  cat is missing

  archy

  mehitabel meets an affinity

  paris france

  mehitabel the cat

  has been passing her

  time in the dubious

  company of

  a ragged eared tom cat

  with one mean

  eye and the other

  eye missing whom

  she calls francy

  he has been the hero

  or the victim of

  many desperate encounters

  for part of his tail

  has been removed

  and his back has been chewed

  to the spine

  one can see at a glance

  that he is a sneak thief

  and an apache

  a bandit with long

  curved claws

  you see his likes hanging

  about the outdoor markets

  here in paris waiting

  their chance to sneak

  a fish or a bit

  of unregarded meat

  or whimpering

  among the chair legs at the

  sidewalk cafes in the

  evenings or slinking

  down the gutters of

  alleys in the old

  quarters of the town

  he has a raucous voice

  much damaged by the night

  air and yet there is a

  sentimental wheedling

  note in it as well

  and yet withal he carries

  his visible disgrace with

  a jaunty air

  when i asked mehitabel

  where in the name of st denis

  did you pick up that

  romantic criminal

  in the luxembourg gardens

  she replied where

  we had both gone to kill

  birds he has been showing me

  paris he does not

  understand english but speak of

  him with respect

  he is like myself

  an example of the truth

  of the pythagorean idea

  you know that in my body

  which is that of a cat

  there is reincarnated

  the soul of cleopatra

  well this cat here

  was not always a cat either

  he has seen better days

  he tells me that once he was

  a bard and lived here in paris

  tell archy here

  something about yourself francy

  thus encouraged the

  murderous looking animal spoke

  and i append a

  rough translation of

  what he said

  tame cats on a web of the persian woof

  may lick their coats and purr for cream

  but i am a tougher kind of goof

  scheming a freer kind of scheme

  daily i climb where the pigeons gleam

  over the gargoyles of notre dame

  robbing their nests to hear them scream

  for i am a cat of the devil i am

  i ll tell the world i m a hard boiled oeuf

  i rend the clouds when i let off steam

  to the orderly life i cry pouf pouf

  it is worth far less than the bourgeois deem

  my life is a dance on the edge de l abime

  and i am the singer you d love to slam

  who murders the midnight anonyme

  for i am a cat of the devil i am

  when the ribald moon leers over the roof

  and the mist reeks up from the chuckling stream

  i pad the quais on a silent hoof

  dreaming the vagabond s ancient dream

  where the piebald toms of the quartier teem

  and fight for a fish or a mouldy clam

  my rival i rip and his guts unseam

  for i am a cat of the devil i am

  roach i could rattle you rhymes by the ream

  in proof of the fact that i m no spring lamb

  maybe the headsman will finish the theme

  for i am a
cat of the devil i am

  mehitabel i said

  your friend is nobody else

  than francois villon

  and he looks it too

  archy

  mehitabel sees paris

  paris france

  i have not been

  to geneva but i have been

  talking to a french cockroach

  who has just returned

  from there traveling all the

  way in a third class

  compartment he says there is no

  hope for insect or man in

  the league of nations

  what prestige it ever had is gone

  and it never had any

  the idea of one great brotherhood

  of men and insects on earth

  is very attractive to me

  but mehitabel the cat

  says i am a communist an

  anarchist and a socialist

  she has been shocked to the soul

  she says by what the

  revolutionists did here during

  the revolution

  i am always the aristocrat archy

  she said i may go and play

  around montmartre and that sort

  of thing and in fact i was

  playing up there with francy last

  night but i am always the lady

  in spite of my little larks

  toujours gai archy and toujours

  the lady that is my motto in

  spite of

  ups and downs

  what they did to us aristocrats

  at the time of the revolution

  was a plenty archy

  it makes my heart bleed

  to see signs of it all

  over town those poor

  dear duchesses that got it

  in the neck i can sympathize

  with them archy i may not

  look it now but i come of a

  royal race myself

  i have come down in the world

  but wotthehell archy wotthehell

  jamais triste archy jamais triste

  that is my motto

  always the lady and always

  out for a good time

  francy and i lapped up

  a demi of beer in a joint

  up on the butte last night

  that an american tourist

  poured out for us

  and everybody laughed and it

  got to be the fashion up there

  to feed beer to us cats

  i did not get a vulgar souse

  archy no lady gets a vulgar

  souse wotthehell i hope i am above

  all vulgarity but i did get a

  little bit lit up

  and francy did too we came

  down and got on top of the

  new morgue and sang and did

  dances there

  francy seems to see

  something attractive about

  morgues when he gets lit up

  the old morgue he says was

  a more romantic morgue but

  vandal hands have tom it down

  but wotthehell archy this one

 

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