'The Ballad Of The Ice-Worm Cocktail' by Robert Service
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To Dawson Town came Percy Brown from London on the Thames.
A pane of glass was in his eye, and stockings on his stems.
Upon the shoulder of his coat a leather pad he wore,
To rest his deadly rifle when it wasn't seeking gore;
The which it must have often been, for Major Percy Brown,
According to his story was a hunter of renown,
Who in the Murrumbidgee wilds had stalked the kangaroo
And killed the cassowary on the plains of Timbuctoo.
And now the Arctic fox he meant to follow to its lair,
And it was also his intent to beard the Artic hare...
Which facts concerning Major Brown I merely tell because
I fain would have you know him for the Nimrod that he was.
Now Skipper Grey and Deacon White were sitting in the shack,
And sampling of the whisky that pertained to Sheriff Black.
Said Skipper Grey: "I want to say a word about this Brown:
The piker's sticking out his chest as if he owned the town."
Said Sheriff Black: "he has no lack of frigorated cheek;
He called himself a Sourdough when he'd just been here a week."
Said Deacon White: "Methinks you're right, and so I have a plan
By which I hope to prove to-night the mettle of the man.
Just meet me where the hooch-bird sings, and though our ways be rude
We'll make a proper Sourdough of this Piccadilly dude."
Within the Malamute Saloon were gathered all the gang;
The fun was fast and furious, and the loud hooch-bird sang.
In fact the night's hilarity had almost reached its crown,
When into its storm-centre breezed the gallant Major Brown.
And at the apparation, whith its glass eye and plus-fours,
From fifty alcoholic throats responded fifty roars.
With shouts of stark amazement and with whoops of sheer delight,
They surged around the stranger, but the first was Deacon White.
"We welcome you," he cried aloud, "to this the Great White Land.
The Artic Brotherhood is proud to grip you by the hand.
Yea, sportsman of the bull-dog breed, from trails of far away,
To Yukoners this is indeed a memorable day.
Our jubilation to express, vocabularies fail...
Boys, hail the Great Cheechako!" And the boys responded: "Hail!"
"And now," continued Deacon White to blushing Major Brown,
"Behold assembled the eelight and cream of Dawson Town,
And one ambition fills their hearts and makes their bosoms glow -
They want to make you, honoured sir, a bony feed Sourdough.
The same, some say, is one who's seen the Yukon ice go out,
But most profound authorities the definition doubt,
And to the genial notion of this meeting, Major Brown,
A Sourdough is a guy who drinks ... an ice-worm cocktail down."
"By Gad!" responded Major Brown, "that's ripping, don't you know.
I've always felt I'd like to be a certified Sourdough.
And though I haven't any doubt your Winter's awf'ly nice,
Mayfair, I fear, may miss me ere the break-up of your ice.
Yet (pray excuse my ignorance of matters such as these)
A cocktail I can understand - but what's an ice-worm, please?"
Said Deacon White: "It is not strange that you should fail to know,
Since ice-worms are peculiar to the Mountain of Blue Snow.
Within the Polar rim it rears, a solitary peak,
And in the smoke of early Spring (a spectacle unique)
Like flame it leaps upon the sight and thrills you through and through,
For though its cone is piercing white, its base is blazing blue.
Yet all is clear as you draw near - for coyley peering out
Are hosts and hosts of tiny worms, each indigo of snout.
And as no nourishment they find, to keep themselves alive
They masticate each other's tails, till just the Tough survive.
Yet on this stern and Spartan fare so-rapidly they grow,
That some attain six inches by the melting of the snow.
Then when the tundra glows to green and nigger heads appear,
They burrow down and are not seen until another year."
"A toughish yarn," laughed Major Brown, "as well you may admit.
I'd like to see this little beast before I swallow it."
"'Tis easy done," said Deacon White, "Ho! Barman, haste and bring
Us forth some pickled ice-worms of the vintage of last Spring."
But sadly still was Barman Bill, then sighed as one bereft:
"There's been a run on cocktails, Boss; there ain't an ice-worm left.
Yet wait . . . By gosh! it seems to me that some of extra size
Were picked and put away to show the scientific guys."
Then deeply in a drawer he sought, and there he found a jar,
The which with due and proper pride he put upon the bar;
And in it, wreathed in queasy rings, or rolled into a ball,
A score of grey and greasy things, were drowned in alcohol.
Their bellies were a bilious blue, their eyes a bulbous red;
Their back were grey, and gross were they, and hideous of head.
And when with gusto and a fork the barman speared one out,
It must have gone four inches from its tail-tip to its snout.
Cried Deacon White with deep delight: "Say, isn't that a beaut?"
"I think it is," sniffed Major Brown, "a most disgustin' brute.
Its very sight gives me the pip. I'll bet my bally hat,
You're only spoofin' me, old chap. You'll never swallow that."
"The hell I won't!" said Deacon White. "Hey! Bill, that fellows fine.
Fix up four ice-worm cocktails, and just put that wop in mine."
So Barman Bill got busy, and with sacerdotal air
His art's supreme achievement he proceeded to prepare.
His silver cups, like sickle moon, went waving to and fro,
And four celestial cocktails soon were shining in a row.
And in the starry depths of each, artistically piled,
A fat and juicy ice-worm raised its mottled mug and smiled.
Then closer pressed the peering crown, suspended was the fun,
As Skipper Grey in courteous way said: "Stranger, please take one."
But with a gesture of disgust the Major shook his head.
"You can't bluff me. You'll never drink that gastly thing," he said.
"You'll see all right," said Deacon White, and held his cocktail high,
Till its ice-worm seemed to wiggle, and to wink a wicked eye.
Then Skipper Grey and Sheriff Black each lifted up a glass,
While through the tense and quiet crown a tremor seemed to pass.
"Drink, Stranger, drink," boomed Deacon White. "proclaim you're of the best,
A doughty Sourdough who has passed the Ice-worm Cocktail Test."
And at these words, with all eyes fixed on gaping Major Brown,
Like a libation to the gods, each dashed his cocktail down.
The Major gasped with horror as the trio smacked their lips.
He twiddled at his eye-glass with unsteady finger-tips.
Into his starry cocktail with a look of woe he peered,
And its ice-worm, to his thinking, mosy incontinently leered.
Yet on him were a hundred eyes, though no one spoke aloud,
For hushed with expectation was the waiting, watching crowd.
The Major's fumbling hand went forth - the gang prepared to cheer;
The Major's falt'ring hand went back, the mob prepared to jeer,
The Major gripped his gleaming glass and laid it to his lips,
And as despairfully he took some nauseated sips,
From out its coil of crapulence the ice-worm raised its head,
Its muzzle was a murky blue, its eyes a ruby red.
And then a roughneck bellowed fourth: "This stiff comes here and struts,
As if he bought the blasted North - jest let him show his guts."
And with a roar the mob proclaimed: "Cheechako, Major Brown,
Reveal that you're of Sourdough stuff, and drink your cocktail down."
The Major took another look, then quickly closed his eyes,
For even as he raised his glass he felt his gorge arise.
Aye, even though his sight was sealed, in fancy he could see
That grey and greasy thing that reared and sneered in mockery.
Yet round him ringed the callous crowd - and how they seemed to gloat!
It must be done . . . He swallowed hard . . . The brute was at his throat.
He choked. . . he gulped . . . Thank God! at last he'd got the horror down.
Then from the crowd went up a roar: "Hooray for Sourdough Brown!"
With shouts they raised him shoulder high, and gave a rousing cheer,
But though they praised him to the sky the Major did not hear.
Amid their demonstrative glee delight he seemed to lack;
Indeed it almost seemed that he - was "keeping something back."
A clammy sweat was on his brow, and pallid as a sheet:
"I feel I must be going now," he'd plaintively repeat.
Aye, though with drinks and smokes galore, they tempted him to stay,
With sudden bolt he gained the door, and made his get-away.
And ere next night his story was the talk of Dawson Town,
But gone and reft of glory was the wrathful Major Brown;
For that ice-worm (so they told him) of such formidable size
Was - a stick of stained spaghetti with two red ink spots for eyes.
Editor 1 Interpretation
The Ballad Of The Ice-Worm Cocktail: An Intriguing Poetic Masterpiece
Are you looking for a poem that will keep you on the edge of your seat, make you laugh out loud, and impress you with its wit and humor? Then look no further than "The Ballad Of The Ice-Worm Cocktail," written by the legendary poet Robert Service.
This classic poem, first published in 1907, is a witty and entertaining tale that captures the spirit of the Yukon and the colorful characters who make their home in this rugged and unforgiving land. With its vivid imagery, lively pacing, and playful use of language, this poem is sure to delight readers of all ages and backgrounds.
In this literary criticism and interpretation, we will explore the themes, structure, and language of "The Ballad Of The Ice-Worm Cocktail" in detail, and discover why it remains a timeless masterpiece of the poetic form.
Themes
At its core, "The Ballad Of The Ice-Worm Cocktail" is a story about the power of imagination and the importance of having a sense of humor in the face of adversity. The poem tells the tale of a group of rough and tumble prospectors who concoct a wild and outrageous drink made from the mythical ice-worm, a creature that is said to inhabit the frozen wastelands of the Yukon.
Despite the absurdity of their idea, the prospectors are determined to make their ice-worm cocktail a reality, and they go to great lengths to capture the elusive creature and brew a drink that will make them famous throughout the Yukon. Along the way, they encounter a series of setbacks and challenges, but they never lose their sense of humor or their faith in their unlikely plan.
Ultimately, the ice-worm cocktail becomes a symbol of the prospectors' resilience and creativity in the face of adversity, and the poem celebrates their adventurous spirit and indomitable will to succeed.
Structure
"The Ballad Of The Ice-Worm Cocktail" is written in the form of a ballad, a traditional narrative poem that tells a story in a simple and often lyrical style. The ballad form is characterized by its use of repetition, rhythm, and rhyme, and it is often associated with folk songs and stories.
In the case of "The Ballad Of The Ice-Worm Cocktail," Service uses the ballad form to great effect, creating a lively and engaging rhythm that propels the story forward and draws the reader in. The poem is divided into six stanzas, each of which tells a different part of the story, from the prospectors' initial idea to capture the ice-worm, to their final triumph over their critics and skeptics.
The use of repetition and rhyme in the ballad form also adds to the poem's charm and humor, as Service playfully twists and turns words and phrases to create unexpected and often hilarious juxtapositions. For example, in the third stanza, he writes:
They boiled him for a fortnight, they brewed him for a week, They mixed him with the syrup of scurvy in the cheek; They stirred him with a caribou bone, they drank him with a shout, And they started up the stove again to thaw another out.
The repetition of "they" and the playful use of alliteration and internal rhyme create a sense of musicality and playfulness that adds to the poem's overall appeal.
Language
One of the most striking features of "The Ballad Of The Ice-Worm Cocktail" is its use of language, which is both vivid and imaginative. Service has a knack for creating memorable and evocative images, and he uses his poetic language to paint a picture of the Yukon and its inhabitants that is both humorous and affectionate.
For example, in the first stanza, he describes the prospectors as "wiry, whiskered, almost weird, / In fringed buckskins dressed." The alliteration and playful use of language here create a sense of whimsy and charm, while also conveying the rugged and wild nature of the prospectors themselves.
Similarly, in the fourth stanza, he describes the ice-worm as "A fearsome thing with jaws that bite / And claws that scratch and clutch." The use of vivid, sensory language here creates a sense of danger and excitement, while also adding to the mythic quality of the creature itself.
Overall, the language of "The Ballad Of The Ice-Worm Cocktail" is both playful and evocative, capturing the spirit of the Yukon and the colorful characters who inhabit this wild and untamed land.
Conclusion
In conclusion, "The Ballad Of The Ice-Worm Cocktail" is a delightful and entertaining poem that captures the spirit of the Yukon and its inhabitants with humor, wit, and imagination. Through its use of the ballad form, vivid imagery, and playful language, the poem tells a timeless story of adventure, resilience, and the power of the human imagination.
Whether you are a lover of poetry or simply looking for a good laugh, "The Ballad Of The Ice-Worm Cocktail" is sure to delight and entertain. So grab a cup of your favorite beverage (preferably not made from ice-worms!) and settle in for a rollicking ride through the frozen wilderness of the Yukon, guided by the irrepressible Robert Service. You won't be disappointed!
Editor 2 Analysis and Explanation
The Ballad of the Ice-Worm Cocktail: A Classic Poem of the Yukon
If you're a fan of poetry, you've likely heard of Robert Service. He's the man behind some of the most iconic poems of the Yukon, including "The Cremation of Sam McGee" and "The Shooting of Dan McGrew." But have you ever heard of "The Ballad of the Ice-Worm Cocktail"? It's a lesser-known work of Service's, but it's just as entertaining and memorable as his more famous pieces.
"The Ballad of the Ice-Worm Cocktail" tells the story of a group of miners in the Yukon who discover a new kind of drink. It's made with ice-worms, which are a real type of worm that live in glaciers and snowbanks. The miners mix the worms with whiskey and other ingredients to create a potent cocktail that quickly becomes popular among the locals.
The poem is written in Service's signature style, which is characterized by its lively rhythm and rhyme scheme. It's a ballad, which means it's meant to be sung or recited aloud, and it has a catchy chorus that's repeated throughout the poem. Here's the first verse:
Have you heard of the wonderful one-hoss shay,
That was built in such a logical way
It ran a hundred years to a day,
And then, of a sudden, it—ah, but stay
I'll tell you what happened without delay,
Scaring the parson into fits,
Frightening people out of their wits—
Have you ever heard of that, I say?
As you can see, the poem has a playful tone that's meant to entertain and amuse. Service uses a lot of alliteration and wordplay to create a sense of fun and whimsy. For example, he describes the ice-worms as "slimy and squirming and wriggling and crawling" and the cocktail as "a drink that was served in a pot." These descriptions are both accurate and humorous, which is part of what makes the poem so enjoyable to read.
But there's more to "The Ballad of the Ice-Worm Cocktail" than just its lighthearted tone. The poem also touches on some deeper themes, such as the power of tradition and the dangers of greed. The miners who discover the ice-worm cocktail are initially excited by their discovery, but as more and more people start drinking it, they begin to worry that they'll run out of worms. They start hoarding the worms and charging exorbitant prices for the cocktail, which leads to fights and even deaths.
Service uses the ice-worm cocktail as a metaphor for the gold rush that was happening in the Yukon at the time. Just like the miners who were searching for gold, the characters in the poem are driven by a desire for wealth and success. But their greed ultimately leads to their downfall, as they lose sight of what's truly important and become consumed by their own desires.
Despite its serious themes, "The Ballad of the Ice-Worm Cocktail" is ultimately a fun and entertaining poem. It's a great example of Service's unique style and his ability to blend humor and pathos in a way that's both engaging and thought-provoking. If you're a fan of poetry, or just looking for a good laugh, I highly recommend giving this classic poem a read. Who knows, you might even be inspired to try making your own ice-worm cocktail!
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