And then there came what I regard as one of the most telling pieces of political satirical humor ever put into English verse, its literary merit alone justifying its preservation, Field himself considering it worth copying in the presentation volume of his verse written prior to 1887: _THE LAMBERT TREE Oh, tell me not of the budding bay, Nor the yew by the new-made grave, And waft me not in spirit away, Where the sorrowing willows wave; Let the shag-bark walnut blend its shade With the elm on the verdant lea-- But let us his to the distant glade, Where blossoms the Lambert tree. The maple reeks with a toothsome sap That flavors the brown buckwheat, And the oak drops down into earth's green lap, Her fruit for the swine to eat; But the Lambert tree has a grander scope In its home on the distant wold, For the sap of the Lambert tree is soap, And its beautiful fruit is gold. So sing no song of the futile fir-- No song of the tranquil teak, Nor the chestnut tree, with its bristling burr, Or the paw-paw of Posey creek; But fill my soul with a heavenly calm, And bring sweet dreams to me By singing a psalm of the itching palm And the blossoming Lambert tree._ Public sentiment within the Democratic party prevented the consummation of the deal to supplant Morrison with Tree, the death of a Democratic assemblyman enabled the Republicans to steal a march on their opponents in a by-election, and the deadlock was finally broken by Logan securing the bare 103 votes necessary to election. How Field rejoiced over this outcome, to which he contributed so powerfully, may be inferred from the pictorial and poetic outburst shown on the opposite page: $ $ $-|-$ $-|-$ $--|--$ $--|--$ $---|---$ $---|---$ $----|----$ $----|----$ $-----|-----$ $-----|-----$ $------|------$ $------|------ | | |-| | | |-| | | |-| | | |-| ------------------- ------------------- BEFORE. AFTER. _There came a burst of thunder sound, The jedge--oh, where was he? His twigs were strewn for miles around-- He was a blasted tree._