Explore "Oscar Hummel" by Edgar Lee Masters on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
I staggered on through darkness, / There was a hazy sky, a few stars / Which I followed as best I could.
It was nine o'clock, I was trying to get home.
But somehow I was lost, / Though really keeping the road.
Then I reeled through a gate and into a yard, / And called at the top of my voice:
"Oh, Fiddler! Oh, Mr. Jones!"
(I thought it was his house and he would show me the way home.)
But who should step out but A. D. Blood, / In his night shirt, waving a stick of wood, / And roaring about the cursed saloons, / And the criminals they made?
"You drunken Oscar Hummel," he said, / As I stood there weaving to and fro, / Taking the blows from the stick in his hand / Till I dropped down dead at his feet.