T. Jefferson, one history showed, Held all display was vain and idle; Alone, unpanoplied, he rode; Alone he hitched his horse's bridle.

No ball that night, and no carouse, But back to Conrad's boarding house.

He tied that bridle to the fence The morning of inauguration; John Davis saw him do it; whence Arose his "simple" reputation.

The White House, though, with Thomas J., Had chefs--and parties every day.

THE MUSE INTERRUPTS THE ODIST

If I were you I think I'd change my medium; I weary of your meter and your style.

The sameness of it sickens me to tedium; I'll quit unless you switch it for a while.

THE ODIST REPLIES

I bow to thee, my Muse, most eloquent of pleaders; But why embarra.s.s me in front of all these readers?

Madison's inauguration Was a lovely celebration.

In a suit of wool domestic Rode he, stately and majestic, Making it be manifest Clothes American are best.

This has thundered through the ages.

(See our advertising pages.)

Lightly I pa.s.s along, and so Come to the terms of James Monroe Who framed the doctrine far too well Known for an odist to retell.

His period of friendly dealing Began The Era of Good Feeling.

John Quincy Adams followed him in Eighteen Twenty-four; Election was exciting--the details I shall ignore.

But his inauguration as our country's President Was, take it from McMaster, some considerable event.

It was a brilliant function, and I think I ought to add The Philadelphia "Ledger" said a gorgeous time was had.

Old Andrew Jackson's pair of terms were terribly exciting; That stern, intrepid warrior had little else than fighting.

A time of strife and turbulence, of politics and flurry.

But deadly dull for poem themes, so, Mawruss, I should worry!

In Washington did Martin Van A stately custom then decree: Old Hickory, the veteran, Must ride with him, the people's man, For all the world to see.

A pleasant custom, in a way, And yet I should have laughed To see the Sage of Oyster Bay On Tuesday ride with Taft.

(Pardon me this Parenthetical halt: That sight you'll miss, But it isn't my fault.)

William Henry Harrison came Riding a horse of alabaster, But the weather that day was a sin and a shame, Take it from me and John McMaster.

Only a month--and Harrison died, And V.-P. Tyler began preside.

A far from popular prex was he, And the next one was Polk of Tennessee.

There were two inaugural b.a.l.l.s for him, But the rest of his record is rather dim.

Had I the pen of a Pope or a Thackeray, Had I the wisdom of Hegel or Kant, Then might I sing as I'd like to of Zachary, Then might I sing a Taylorian chant.

Oh, for the lyrical art of a Tennyson!

Oh, for the skill of Macaulay or Burke!

None of these mine; so I give him my benison, Turning reluctantly back to my work.

O Millard Fillmore! when a man refers To thee, what direful, awful thing occurs?

Though in itself thy name hath nought of wit, Yet--and this doth confound me to admit When I do hear it, I do smile; nay, more-- I laugh, I scream, I cachinnate, I roar As Wearied Business Men do shake with glee At mimes that say "Dubuque" or "Kankakee"; As bas.e.m.e.nt-brows that laugh at New Roch.e.l.le; As lackwits laugh when actors mention h.e.l.l.

Perhaps--it may be so--I am not sure-- Perhaps it is that thou wast so obscure, And that one seldom hears a single word of thee; I know a lot of girls that never heard of thee.

Hence did I smile, perhaps.... How very near The careless laughing to the thoughtful tear!

O Fillmore, let me sheathe my mocking pen.

G.o.d rest thee! I'll not laugh at thee again!

I have heard it remarked that to Pierce's election There wasn't a soul had the slightest objection.

I have also been told, by some caustical wit, That no one said nay when he wanted to quit.

Yet Franklin Pierce, forgotten man, I celebrate your fame.

I'm doing just the best I can To keep alive your name, Though as a President, F. P., You didn't do as much for me.

Of James Buchanan things a score I might recite. I'll say that he was The only White House bachelor-- The only one, that's what J. B. was.

For he was a bachelor-- For he might have been a bigamist, A Mormon, a polygamist, And had thirty wives or more; But this be his memorial: He was ever unuxorial, And remained a bachelor-- He re-mai-ai-ai-ai-ai-ai-ai-ai-ai-ai-ained a bachelor.

Lincoln! I falter, feeling it to be As if all words of mine in praise of him Were as the veriest dolt that saw the sun; And G.o.d had spoken him and said to him: "I bid you tell me what you think of it."

And he should answer: "Oh, the sun is nice."

So sadly fitted I to speak in praise Of Lincoln.

Now during Andrew Johnson's term the currency grew stable; We bought Alaska and we laid the great Atlantic cable; And then there came eight years of Grant; thereafter four of Hayes; And in his time the parties fell on fierce and parlous days; And Garfield came, and Arthur too, and Congress shoes were worn, And Brooklyn Bridge was built, and I, your gifted bard, was born.

Cleveland and Harrison came along then; Followed an era of Cleveland again.

Came then McKinley and--light me a pipe-- Hey, there, composing room, get some new type!

_I sing him now as I shall sing him again; I sing him now as I have sung before.

How fluently his name comes off my pen!

O Theodore!_

_Bless you and keep you, T. R.!

Energy tireless, eternal, Fixed and particular star, Theodore, Teddy, the Colonel._

_Energy tireless, eternal; Hater of grafters and crooks!

Theodore, Teddy, the Colonel, Writer and lover of books,_

_Hater of grafters and crooks, Forceful, adroit, and expressive, Writer and lover of books, Nevertheless a Progressive._

_Forceful, adroit, and expressive, Often a.s.serting the trite; Nevertheless a Progressive; Errant, but generally right._

_Often a.s.serting the trite; Stubborn, and no one can force you.

Errant, but generally right-- Yet, on the whole, I indorse you._

_Stubborn, and no one can force you, Fixed and particular star, Yet, on the whole, I indorse you, Bless you and keep you, T. R.!_

It blew, it rained, it snowed, it stormed, it froze, it hailed, it sleeted The day that William Howard Taft upon the chair was seated.

The four long years that followed--ah, that I should make a rime of it!

For Mr. Taft a.s.sures me that he had an awful time of it.

And yet meseems he did his best; and as we bid good-bye, I'll add he did a better job than you'd have done--or I.

Welcome to thee! I shake thy hand, New prexy of our well-known land.

May what we merit, and no less, Descend to give us happiness!

May what we merit, and no more, Descend on us in measured store!

Give us but peace when we shall earn The right to such a rich return!

Give us but plenty when we show That we deserve to have it so!