O. Henry

The Complete Works


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floor he lay;

       And the last he heard was the great man’s words,

       “I have nothing at all to say.”

      Tamales

       Table of Contents

      This is the Mexican

       Don José Calderon

       One of God’s countrymen.

       Land of the buzzard.

       Cheap silver dollar, and

       Cacti and murderers.

       Why has he left his land

       Land of the lazy man,

       Land of the pulque

       Land of the bull fight,

       Fleas and revolution.

       This is the reason,

       Hark to the wherefore;

       Listen and tremble.

       One of his ancestors,

       Ancient and garlicky,

       Probably grandfather,

       Died with his boots on.

       Killed by the Texans,

       Texans with big guns,

       At San Jacinto.

       Died without benefit

       Of priest or clergy;

       Died full of minie balls,

       Mescal and pepper.

       Don José Calderon

       Heard of the tragedy.

       Heard of it, thought of it,

       Vowed a deep vengeance;

       Vowed retribution

       On the Americans,

       Murderous gringos,

       Especially Texans.

       “Valga me Dios! que

       Ladrones, diablos,

       Matadores, mentidores,

       Caraccos y perros,

       Voy a matarles,

       Con solos mis manos,

       Toditas sin falta.”

       Thus swore the Hidalgo

       Don José Calderon.

       He hied him to Austin.

       Bought him a basket,

       A barrel of pepper,

       And another of garlic;

       Also a rope he bought.

       That was his stock in trade;

       Nothing else had he.

       Nor was he rated in

       Dun or in Bradstreet,

       Though he meant business,

       Don José Calderon,

       Champion of Mexico,

       Don José Calderon,

       Seeker of vengeance.

       With his stout lariat,

       Then he caught swiftly

       Tomcats and puppy dogs,

       Caught them and cooked them,

       Don José Calderon,

       Vower of vengeance.

       Now on the sidewalk

       Sits the avenger

       Selling Tamales to

       Innocent purchasers.

       Dire is thy vengeance,

       Oh, José Calderon,

       Pitiless Nemesis

       Fearful Redresser

       Of the wrongs done to thy

       Sainted grandfather.

       Now the doomed Texans,

       Rashly hilarious,

       Buy of the deadly wares,

       Buy and devour.

       Rounders at midnight,

       Citizens solid,

       Bankers and newsboys,

       Bootblacks and preachers,

       Rashly importunate,

       Courting destruction.

       Buy and devour.

       Beautiful maidens

       Buy and devour,

       Gentle society youths

       Buy and devour.

       Buy and devour

       This thing called Tamale;

       Made of rat terrier,

       Spitz dog and poodle.

       Maltese cat, boarding house

       Steak and red pepper.

       Garlic and tallow,

       Corn meal and shucks.

       Buy without shame

       Sit on store steps and eat,

       Stand on the street and eat,

       Ride on the cars and eat,

       Strewing the shucks around

       Over creation.

       Dire is thy vengeance,

       Don José Calderon.

       For the slight thing we did

       Killing thy grandfather.

       What boots it if we killed

       Only one greaser,

       Don José Calderon?

       This is your deep revenge,

       You have greased all of us,

       Greased a whole nation

       With your Tamales,

       Don José Calderon.

       Santos Esperiton,

       Vincente Camillo,

       Quitana de Rios,

       De Rosa y Ribera.

      The Lullaby Boy

       Table of Contents

      The lullaby boy to the same old tune

       Who abandons his drum and toys

       For the purpose of dying in early June

       Is the kind the public enjoys.

       But, just for a change, please sing us a song,

       Of the sore-toed boy that’s fly,

       And freckled and mean, and ugly, and bad,

       And positively will not die.

      The Murderer

       Table of Contents

      “I push my boat among the reeds;

       I sit and stare about;

       Queer slimy things crawl through the weeds,

       Put to a sullen rout.

       I paddle under cypress trees;

       All fearfully I peer

       Through oozy channels when the breeze

       Comes