Tom Logan, here is the poem I was telling you about that a man witnessed at court. Author unknown. I typed it just as it is, typos and all. LOL - I have it in Microsoft Word if anyone wants a copy, email me and Ill send it to you. Enjoy :) It was in the spring of 30 in the state of Idaho U.S. Court in session: the federals raring to go Moonshiners and Bootleggers from all the country round Waiting for Judge Cavanaugh to tell them to set down. At the door stood O.R. Williams, agrin from ear to ear Gazing on the victims who had sold him Moon and Beer At his side was T.R. Woods, on his head a cowboy hat He was once an honest bootlegger; now he’s just a rat. And in the fartherest stood Mr. Pickets boy A smile was on his childish face; his heart was full of joy Close beside was Owen Jenks, an undercover tool But according to Judge Cavanaugh he can’t be called a stool When court was called to order….to save them some expense Schaffer pleaded guilty, then turned States Evidence That’s what hooked McGregor; they sure did give him “snoose” But Macs a better man in jail than Schaffer running loose Then up to bat cam Triplett, a man from Cottonwood Broad of shoulder, full of beer and six foot tall he stood Swore to God he hadn’t been in Cottonwood that day “Fifteen months on the Island” then Cavanaugh did say Then they called on Mathewson, a man from Lewiston He sure led them a merry chase but finally they won Van Cleve was his partner; an innocent looking lad, But in checking up his record, they found it to be bad Then Burr and Mullan came into court, charges there were plenty But Burr was shown some leniency, as justice did prevail They only gave him eight months in the Latah county jail The next man up was Campbell, a happy little gent Who years ago was wealthy but now his wad is spent Now he’s waiting patiently for February first When that day comes, he’s going home to satisfy his thirst Hollenby and Carter were the next men up for trial According to the evidence they had got by quite a while Their home is on the Salmon in the wild and wooly west Then came the case of Daddy Poore whose age is eighty years They handed him an awful jolt; he showed no signs of tears Daddy is a man four-square and mighty hard to fool But he slipped like the rest of us and peddled to a stool Then came Danny Lawrence, a former football star The stools got him in Lapwai, selling “across the bar” Deaf Jim followed closely, full of vigor and of vim He eats the chuck they carry and thumbs his nose at them The next men up to face the court were old man Clark and Kelly It’s hard to face court anytime, worse on an empty belly Kelly waited four months for bond that never came But when the judge passed sentence he rapped him just the same Who according to the evidence was selling to much beer Jack Kelsey stood beside her…. a partner good and true? He gazed into her eyes and said, “I’m coming back to you” Next morning when court opened, a case was called at once Five men guilty, said Cavanaugh “Eight months”…Seven months Ten months…Nine months and a fine” The Bonner gang was then locked up and are now doing time The next in line was George Helm, a service station owner He now admits the sale to Woods was certainly a boner Close behind was Earl Steen, a man who beat them once But “justice” failed to function, he only got eight months Then into court Dunn staggered, his face was flush and red He’d been so full for several days he had not been to bed And just like Henry Snyder who was standing awfully near “only” gave him nine months for selling moon and beer Frank Ball now came to bat; his smile was just a bluff They quickly found him guilty of selling rotten stuff Pete Hanson stood beside him, he was a partner once And justice failed to function, he only got eight months G.R. Sullivan came up next, his eyes showed lack of sleep Glen used to farm a little and also herded sheep He took his sentence quietly without a word to say He’ll do eight months quite easily; his fine he will not pay Next morning when court opened, Boobar took his place A chew of snuff was in his mouth; a smile was on his face But Boobar couldn’t say a word…..his head was in a whirl Nine months won’t hurt the old boy, but gosh he lost his girl Then Ed the tailor sauntered up, prepared to take a rap The judge at once took pity on this bright and handsome chap After pleas from Robinson, who was Sheriff there once Cavanaugh shocked the courtroom by passing out four months Then up to bat came Mickey, “Idaho’s Scar-faced Al” He’d been in jail for forty days, got squealed on by a pal They brought up his record… he’d been caught three times before They only gave him eleven months behind the iron door Then William Jackson changed his pleas and made them fight his case But Jackson’s hardly human; he’s of the German race His partner Eddie Anderson, who hails from old Spokane Can do eight months in any jail and still be called a man Goldie Cochran beat her case; they’re hard to satisfy Now they daily hope and pray the witnesses all die Now my tale is ended, roll on old “31 The iron gates will open and then we’ll have our fun We’ll leave this state of Idaho and seek some far off land Where a man can have his drink of corn or any other brand. Author Unknown
Posted on: Wed, 16 Jul 2014 16:56:28 +0000
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