Poem - Around the Square in 1896 Carlinville Macoupin County IL, Oct 1997

Contributed for use on the Macoupin County IL Page ©1997 Mary McKenzie

There are many Carlinville names in this poem.
Anne Denby Michael said the author was
her mother's sister Judith Jordan Anderson


Judith Jordan Anderson

It's Summer, and along East Main
The trees arched o'er from curb to curb.
That thorough fare I tread again
My old time wanderlust to curb

As to the Square I wend my way.
I feel the need of ready cash,
First National has coins to pay,
Frank Glenbo for my locks to slash.

With hair cut in the latest class
I feel the need of stimulant;
At Martin's place take on a glass
Of amber brew, then with intent

To slight no merchant on the Square
To each my friendly greetings bring;
Two partners who for years were
there Gus Mueller and Al Gieseking

Then once again my throat gets dry;
This visiting is quite a chore,
Which means I never will get by
The soda fount of Theo. Loehr.

Now some might call it a mistake
To pass up Rudy Bohrman's place,
But there's no need my thirst to slake
And I continued on my chase.

I mount the steps to talk with Clem,
Discuss Bill Bryan's chance to win;
I find Old Ed quite full of vim
About McKinley's getting in.

With politics put on the shelf
I go on in to get the mail,
Give John Stadler some of my help
And then set out upon the trail.

To Riefenburg's who right next door,
Where Otto with a genial smile,
Extols each piece upon the floor,
Elaborating on its style,

Next, a visit short to Adam Hoch
Who kept his booze in barrels more,
I'll tell the world it was no joke
To count the highballs in his store.

But what's the use;so next I greet
My good old friend, Charley Schumann
Whose specialty was fine fresh meat,
Rich in protein and albumen.

A word or two on Dodson's store,
Then on to Diesel's grocery mart.
Jeff Deadrick meets me at their door
and tries from me my cash to part.

But it's no good, for now my thirst,
Has got the best of me again
And into old Sour Mash I burst,
Inhale a glass of beer and then

Around South Broad I madly dash,
To enter through the open door
Of our town's leading dry goods
mart The property of J. C. Loehr.

Just at the juncture pains and aches
Develope all along my spine,
So quick to Doctor Hankins take
Myself, above friend Bill Horine.

The Doc suggests another drink
At Tiefenbruch's saloon next door
But as I stopped I seemed to shrink
From dissipating anymore.

This roaming sure is hard on shoes
But luckily I've reached the place;
Brockmeier's footwear one ne'r rues;
Be it congress, button or lace.

Now once more shod I take the trail
And drop in on young Otto Wolf
Whose store's aromas now assail
An appetite I've tried to spoof.

But simply adding to my plight
Are odors from Drostonshop.
Whose bakery goods gave delight
And proved to inner man a prop.

But one can't live by bread alone
I've oft been told by worthy sire,
So lifted feet that felt like stone
To visit H. C. Steinmeyer.

Cas Zengerle, his able clerk,
Was on the job and did his best
To put my cash right to work.
Til forward on my way I pressed.

Old Henry Daley's tiny shop
With Tommy Allen out in front,
Did not even make me stop,
Although I like that little runt.

Then Cookson's, what a dry goods store
There at the corner of West Main,
And so, I'm half way through my chore
Of visiting my old haunts again,

It seems but yesterday that I
Admired those thick Steinmeyer sideburns,
And often thought that I would try
To grow some too, But one soon learns

That whiskers take a lot of care
So that ambition I forsook.
Now on my roaming way I fare
To give Joe Flori's place a look.

Oh that was wondrous place my dears
With picture books and games and toys
Some dating back for untold years
When parents were wee girls and boys.

At last we've reached the corner where
The brothers Paul launched "Yellow Kid."
And in that little side street there
Sonnemann's Bakery made a bid

For patronage from those who dwelled
In old fourth ward of Carlinville.
How good those luscious pastries smelled
And would a hungry tummy fill.

But that's enough of gastric things;
Sep Woodward filled another need,
Hardware and paint and chimney rings
Spades, hoes and rakes and garden seed.

Just next there was the Co-op Store
Those wares were away up to snuff.
It was a job to pass the door.
One would rather go in and stuff.

Hoecker ran the harness shop
Just to the East, and many times
I've had from him his leather crop,
The skating straps for my thin dimes.

But time moves on and we must be
Along our way. Who's next on Call?
Fanning and Ross I sure must see,
If I would visit with them all.

In corner drug store portal there
Is Alex Boring's pleasing smile
And as I have some time to spare
I visit with him for awhile.

But as I linger there with Al
At Battise's across the street
Young Bob who used to be a pal,
Is waiting my approach to greet.

So now with three-fourths journey done
I cross North Broad with springy step.
this pilgrimage has been real fun
And finds me still quite full of pep.

My chat with Bob comes to an end
And into Bergdorff's store I hie
To find out what is style's late trend.
And perhaps a nice hat to buy.

But nothing suits me and I go
A few steps east to Nathan's place.
That I may part there with my dough
If he has hats to suit my face.

With bonnet now atop my pate
I wend my way up flight of stairs,
For there I know I'll find a mate,
My chum "Sun" David who prepares

The type for printing all the news
In the old weekly Democrat,
The G. O. P. to give enthuse
And show Clem Lumpkin where he's "at."

Great Guns, it's getting pretty late;
I'll have to hurry on apace,
For with Sam Sims I have a date
In Surman's well-known clothing place.

With dancing plans fixed up with Sam
I violate an early rule;
And drop in to see "Honey Lamb"
Who used to be my gal at school.

But that's a secret all my own,
I leave for you to make a guess
She trimmed swell hats for Mister Cohen
And friends all called the maiden Bess.

Now Mister Cohen was loathe to see
Me wasting Bessie's time for him,
So with word I had to flee
His highly wrathful, threatening vim

It wouldn't do to pass the bank
Of C. H. Anderson, Esquire;
For favors there one had to thank
That genial man, John Westermeier.

Altho Frank Glenbo cut my hair,
From good Fred Ruegg I had a shave,
And as I stepped down from his chair
I heard some fellow start to rave

That Fred had pulled a boner bad;
He'd used his razor all in vain
He should have known that such a lad
Was wiskerless, Oh, what a pain

Those barbershop bystanders are
To callow youth who would be men.
I left the shop with feelings sour,
And vowed I'd never go there again.

But let it pass; I must be on
My way before the day's complete;
In Andel's jewelry shop I'd gone
But for the fact my aching feet.

Were giving me a hectic time.
So I let Otto Sonnemann
Bring finish to this silly rhyme,
By fitting me with shoes again.

I've taken you around the square
About the year of "ninety-six"
I may have missed one here and there,
For aging memory plays me tricks.

And so I know you will forgive
If I, perchance, have passed someone by
Who in old Carlinville did live,
And loved her, even as you and I.

Many of those who greeted me
That day of two score years ago
Have passed on to eternity.
May happiness their spirits know.

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