Black Beetles in Amber

The Chinatown at Bakersfield

Was blazing bright and high;

The flames to water would not yield,

Though torrents drenched the sky

And drowned the ground for miles around—

The houses were so dry.

Then rose an aged preacher man

Whom all did much admire,

Who said: "To force on you my plan

I truly don't aspire,

But streams, it seems, might quench these beams

If turned upon the fire."

The fireman said: "This hoary wight

His folly dares to thrust

On us! 'Twere well he felt our might—

Nay, he shall feel our must!"

With jet of wet and small regret

They laid that old man's dust.