I started from Missouri,
The western part of Missouri,
To ride to Nicodemus,
To Nicodemus, Kansas,
In the western part of Kansas;
Not far from Happy, Kansas,
In Graham County, Kansas . . .
Across the State of Kansas I started in a flivver . . .
A jolty little flivver with a rhythm rather jerky . . .
Irregularly rhythmical, when rhythmical at all . . .
I had to get to Nicodemus
By noon on Saturday to pay the mortgage
On a farm near Nicodemus,
Graham County, Kansas,
Belonging to a sweetheart who would otherwise be
rooned
Financially and so could not afford to marry me. . . .
As I entered into Kansas,
And crossed Miami County,
At the town of Ossawatomie
I received a telegraphic message
From my love at Nicodemus.
“Hasten with the money,” said the telegraphic
message,
“Hasten with the money you are bringing from my
Uncle.
From my Uncle Jethro, in Missouri,
For the man that holds the mortgage,
Banker Jasper Grinder, who holds the fiendish
mortgage,
Has said he will foreclose it
And take away the homestead at noon on Saturday,
Or else I'll have to marry him,
To keep him from foreclosing,
Marry Banker Jasper Grinder to keep him from
foreclosing . . .
I would hate to marry Grinder,
But, on the other hand,
I would hate to lose the whole alfalfa crop . . .
Hasten with the money,
From my Uncle Jethro,
Hasten to your true love, Miss Elvira Simpkins,
At Nicodemus, Kansas.”
Three hundred miles away
Was Nicodemus, Kansas,
Nicodemus, Graham County,
Not so far from Happy, Kansas
Could I do it in a flivver
In ten hours?
from Ossawatomie I started with a burst of speed,
That carried me to Quenemo,
To Quenemo, in Osage County, Kansas,
At the rate of forty miles an hour . . .
At a garage in Quenemo
I paused for gasolene,
At Quenemo, in Osage County, Kansas . . .
But the man that ran the place
With shrill bucolic snicker
Said: “There ain't no gasolene!
The gasolene in Kansas
Has all been took and contrabanded,
Leastways, commandeered,
Just one hour ago,
By order of the Governor,
The Governor of Kansas,
On account of military operations “...
No gasolene in Kansas!
And three hundred miles away my love,
My love, Elvira Simpkins,
Was waiting for the money I had got from Uncle
Jethro
To save the home at Nicodemus
From the clutch of Jasper Grinder!
“I will telegraph the money!” I shouted
With a flash of inspiration. . .
But the station agent told me,
“There ain't no telegraph nor nothing
Runs into Nicodemus,
To Nicodemus, Kansas.
As fur as I can see in this here book!”
And I looked at the wire from Elvira again
And saw it had been sent from Happy, Kansas,
And all the time the precious
Minutes fluttered by
Banker Jasper Grinder, in Nicodemus, Kansas,
Minute after minute,
Was approaching nearer to the hour of his desire . . .
I could hear him chuckle,
The dry and throaty chuckle that village bankers
chuckle
In the semi-arid regions
Another inspiration came to me and I cried:
“I will run my flivver
To Nicodemus, Kansas,
On alcohol, by heck!
I can make the engine in my little flivver
Run to Nicodemus, Kansas,
On alcohol, by Henry!”
But the crowd that gathered around me
Laffed and laffed and laffed . . .
“They ain't no alcohol in Kansas,”
Said the crowd, between its chortles--
“Kansas is a dry State,
It's prohibition Kansas,
And you'll never get to Nicodemus
Graham County, Kansas,”
Just then the village toper
A gentle creature and decayed
Thrust into my hand a gallon
Of Stutter's Stomach Bitters,
He handed me four big quarts
Of Stutter's Stomach Bitters,
And I poured 'em in the tank and left the town of
Quenemo, with the engine doing lovely
And the flivver going strong
And I reached the town of Skiddy,
The town of Skiddy, Kansas, in Morris County,
Kansas,
And I drew up by the drug store and I yelled
For Stutter's Stomach Bitters . . .
“I must reach Elvira Simpkins, in Nicodemus,
Kansas,
'Ere the clock strikes 12 . . .
Give me Bitters, give me Bitters!
Fill the tank with Bitters, for I race to raise the
mortgage
But the druggist said: “There's been a run on Bitters!
Considerable colic in this watermelon weather!--
How about Stewroona?”
On a gallon of Stewroona I ran from Skiddy, Kansas,
As far as Elmo, Kansas,
And there I laid in nineteen quarts
Of prohibition appetizer:
Doctor Bunkus's Discovery for Kidneys
Westward, aver westward;”:
To my love,- Elvira Simpkins
At Nicodemus, Kansas,
I ran on Doctor Bunkus, through the dryest belt of
Kansas,
Through the prohibition centre,
Dear Old Doctor Bunkus urged my little flivver;
From Elmo, to Palacky,
Six quarts of Lily Gingham's Discovery
And a dozen more of Bunkus
Took me nearer, nearer, nearer,
To my love, Elvira Simpkins . . .
From Palacky west to Pfeifer,
Through the town of Fingal,
Then northward to Ogallah,
I ran on Si wash Injun Soorah,
A Remedy for Liver Trouble,
Take a wineglass full before each meal.
Nearer, ever nearer, to my love at Nicodemus
From Ogallah north to Happy,
North to Happy, Kansas, in Graham County,
Kansas,
North and west to Happy, word of glorious omen . . .
And the villagers came down to sniff the glad aroma
Of the flying flivver
As I turned north to Nicodemus
At thirteen minutes until noon,
Filled once more with! Stutter's Stomach Bitters
I raced into the presence of my love,' Elvira Simpkins.
Alas! Alas! Ala:
Elvira did not clasp me in her sturdy Kansas
arms
She sniffed the air and said:
“I never will be wedded
To a man who reeks with liquor!
Give me Uncle Jethro's money!
And don't you leave that drunken flivver on the
streets of Nicodemus.
And she went and married Jasper Grinder after all.