“I don’t want to appear inquisitive,” says D. S. H., “nor do I wish to embarrass archy, but as a sincere friend and a true admirer and in the cause of science I wish to learn how archy gets the roll turned for the next line? This would appear too much of a task for a being that is bald headed on the outside, even. Can it be that he has a harness rigged up for mehitabel and hitches her to the ratchet and she turns the—a—a—shall I call it trick? That would be a reasonable excuse for having that infernal cat around.”
He braces his head against the frame of the machine, puts his hind legs against the cogwheel and kicks the thing til he hears it click into the next notch.
DON MARQUIS
AUGUST 25
Be Beautiful
well boss did it
ever strike you that a
hen regrets it just as
much when they wring her
neck as an oriole but
nobody has any
sympathy for a hen because
she is not beautiful
while every one gets
sentimental over the
oriole and says how
shocking to kill the
lovely thing this thought
comes to my mind
because of the earnest
endeavor of a
gentleman to squash me
yesterday afternoon when i
was riding up in the
elevator if i had been a
butterfly he would have
said how did that
beautiful thing happen to
find its way into
these grimy city streets do
not harm the splendid
creature but let it
fly back to its rural
haunts again beauty always
gets the best of
it be beautiful boss
a thing of beauty is a
joy forever
be handsome boss and let
who will be clever is
the sad advice
of your ugly little friend
AUGUST 28
Cleopatra
boss i am disappointed in
some of your readers they
are always asking how does archy
work the shift so as to get a
new line or how does archy
do this or do that they
are always interested in technical
details1 when the main question is
whether the stuff is
literature or not what difference does it
make how a thing is
produced the thought
content is the thing the koran was written
on the white bones of dead
sheep picked up by mahomet in the desert
so i have heard but
some of it is great stuff in spite
of that so i have heard from a little
hot footed spider that came
over from smyrna in a crate of figs i
met him down on the water front but
i don’t take much stock in his religion after
you have migrated a few times all
religions get to looking
alike to you i get a slant
at them from an angle
not possible to many which
reminds me i wish you would leave that new
book of george moores2 on the floor
mehitabel the cat and i want to
read it i have discovered that
mehitabels soul formerly inhabited a human also at
least that is what mehitabel is
claiming these days it may
be she got jealous of my prestige anyhow
she and i have been talking it over in a
friendly way who were you
mehitabel i asked her i was
cleopatra3 once she said well i said i
suppose you lived in a palace you bet she
said and what lovely fish dinners we used to
have and licked her chops mehitabel would sell
her soul for a plate of fish any
day i told her i thought you were
going to say you were the favorite wife of
the emperor valerian4
he was some cat nip eh mehitabel but
she did not get me
SEPTEMBER 1
The Queens I Have Been
mehitabel the cat claims that
she has a human soul
also and has transmigrated
from body to body and it
may be so boss you
remember i told you she accused
herself of being cleopatra once i
asked her about antony1
anthony who she asked me are
you thinking of that
song about rowley and gammon and
spinach heigho for anthony rowley2
no i said mark antony the
great roman the friend of
caesar surely cleopatra you
remember j caesar3
listen archy she said i
have been so many different
people in my time and met
so many prominent gentlemen i
wont lie to you or stall i
do get my dates mixed sometimes
think of how much i have had a
chance to forget and i have
always made a point of not
carrying grudges over
from one life to the next archy
i have been
used something fierce in my time but
i am no bum sport archy
i am a free spirit archy i
look on myself as being
quite a romantic character oh the
queens i have been and the
swell feeds i have ate
a cockroach which you are
and a poet which you used to be
archy couldn t understand
my feelings at having come
down to this i have
had bids to elegant feeds where poets
and cockroaches would
neither one be mentioned without a
laugh archy i have had
adventures but i
have never been an adventuress
one life up and the next life
down archy but always a lady
r /> through it all and a
good mixer too always the
life of the party archy but never
anything vulgar always free footed
archy never tied down to
a job or housework yes looking
back on it all i can say is
i had some romantic
lives and some elegant times i
have seen better days archy but
whats the use of kicking kid its
all in the game like a gentleman
friend of mine used to say
toujours gai kid toujours gai he
was an elegant cat he used
to be a poet himself and he made up
some elegant poetry about me and him
lets hear it i said and
mehitabel recited
persian pussy from over the sea
demure and lazy and smug and fat
none of your ribbons and bells for me
ours is the zest of the alley cat
over the roofs from flat to flat
we prance with capers corybantic
what though a boot should break a slat
mehitabel us for the life romantic
we would rather be rowdy and gaunt and free
and dine on a diet of roach and rat
roach i said what do you
mean roach interrupting mehitabel
yes roach she said thats the
way my boy friend made it up
i climbed in amongst the typewriter
keys for she had an excited
look in her eyes go on mehitabel i
said feeling safer and she
resumed her elocution
we would rather be rowdy and gaunt and free
and dine on a diet of roach and rat
than slaves to a tame society
ours is the zest of the alley cat
fish heads freedom a frozen sprat
dug from the gutter with digits frantic
is better than bores and a fireside mat
mehitabel us for the life romantic
when the pendant moon in the leafless tree
clings and sways like a golden bat
i sing its light and my love for thee
ours is the zest of the alley cat
missiles around us fall rat a tat tat
but our shadows leap in a ribald antic
as over the fences the world cries scat
mehitabel us for the life romantic
persian princess i dont care that
for your pedigree traced by scribes pedantic
ours is the zest of the alley cat
mehitabel us for the life romantic
aint that high brow stuff
archy i always remembered it
but he was an elegant gent
even if he was a highbrow and a
regular bohemian archy him and
me went aboard a canal boat
one day and he got his head into
a pitcher of cream and couldn t get
it out and fell overboard
he come up once before he
drowned toujours gai kid he
gurgled and then sank for ever that
was always his words archy toujours
gai kid toujours gai i
have known some swell gents
in my time dearie but i canned her
off or she would be going
yet
SEPTEMBER 4
Unpunctuated Gink
say boss i had
a great idea last night i thought
if i could operate a
typewriter why not a
linotype machine1 i went down into
the composing room
and started to hop from key to key
and a guy said to me wheres
your union card
get out of here or you will get
into the paper
in a way you dont like you will
get a nice hot bath
in that little pot of type metal do
you get me you may con the editorial
staff but no unpunctuated
gink can sling his joshbillingsgate
around here see
raus or i will spread you on
the minutes and not charge
any overtime for it
either so i came away
SEPTEMBER 6
Butting These Keys with My Head
say boss its a good
thing for you
that you dont pay me any wages for
the stuff i write
for you if you did
i would have to have them raised all
these strikes are getting
me feverish and excited one of
my long pieces in your column
often costs me twelve or
fifteen hours of steady
labor and i am drowsy
all the next day butting these
keys with my head is no snap boss
anything i got for it would
be underpaying me i wish you would
buy a pear and leave it under the
metal typewriter case where the rats
cant get to it
SEPTEMBER 8
Drunken Hornet
well boss i had a
great example of the corrupting
influence of the great
city brought to my notice recently a
drunken hornet blew in here
the other day and sat down in the
corner and dozed and buzzed not a
real sleep you know one of those wakeful
liquor trances with the
fuzzy talk oozing out of it to hear
this guy mumble in his dreams he was right
wicked my name he says is crusty bill
i never been licked and i never will and
then he would go half way asleep
again nobody around here wanted to
fight him and after a while he got
sober enough to know how drunk he had
been and began to cry over it and get
sentimental about himself mine is a wasted
life he says but i had a good
start red liquor ruined me he says and
sobbed tell me your story i
said two years ago he said i was a country
hornet young and strong and handsome i
lived in a rusty rainspout with my
parents and brothers and sisters and all was
innocent and merry often in that happy
pastoral life would we swoop down
with joyous laughter and sting the school
children on the village green but on an evil
day alas i came to the city in a crate
of peaches i found myself in a market
near the water front alone and friendless in the
great city its ways were strange to
me food seemed inaccessible i thought
that i might starve to death as i was buzzing
down the street thinking these gloomy
thoughts i met another hornet
just outside a speak easy1 kid he says
you look down in the mouth forget
it kid i will show you how to live without
working how i says watch me he says just
then a drunken fly came crawling out
of the bar room in a leisurely way my new
found friend stung dissected and consumed that fly