Thus rebounded Moses Adams: “Glory was the foremost word Which in the untrammelled silence of this wilderness was heard, And I arnswer, dimly feelin’ like a prophet, grand and slow, ‘Glory kinder sounds like Money—up to glory let her go!’” And this casual conversation in the year of Sixty-eight, As if by an inspiration he recorded on a slate, Which ’twas said in later ages—six weeks after—used to hang As a curiositary in the principal shebang. On the spot that very evening they perceived a beauteous gleam From a grain of shining metal in a wild auriferous stream: As their eyes remarked the symptom thus their tongues responsive spoke: “In this undiscovered section there _is_ pay-dirt, sure as smoke!” Little boots or little shoes it to inform you how, like crows To a carcase, folks came flying, and the town of Glory rose; As in country schools the urchins cast each one a spittle-ball, Till at last a monstrous paper fungus gathers on the wall. ’Long the road they built their cabins, in a vis-a-visual way, As if each man to his neighbour kind of wished to have his say; But ’twas also said that like two rows of teeth the houses grew, Threatening uncommon danger to the stranger passing through. Yes, for like the note of freedom sounded on Hibernia’s harp, Every person in the party was a most uncommon sharp; And it got to be a saying that from such an ornery cuss As a regular Gloryvillin—oh, good Law deliver us! First of all the pay-dirt vanished or became uncommon rare, Then they wandered more than ever to the Cross and from the Square, For when all resources failed them nary copper did they mind, For they had fine-answering Genius, which is never left behind. So they got incopperated as a city fair and grand, Spreading memoirs of their splendour over many a distant land, Mind I say in _distant_ places—people near them knew Into what unearthly beauty the great town of Glory grew. Then they sent an ex-tra Governor over seas and far beyond, Even unto distant Holland, loaded up with many a bond, Splendidly engraved in London, having just the proper touch Quite imposing—rather—for they did impose upon the Dutch. And with every bond the Governor had a picture to bestow Of the town of Gloryville a-bathing in the sunset’s glow; This they had performed in Paris by an artist full of cheek, Who was told to draw a city _comme il faut dans l’Amérique_. The ideas of this artist were idead from long ago, Out of scenery in an opera, “Cortez in the Mexico.” Therefore all his work expanded with expensive fallacies: Castles, towered walls, pavilions, real-estately palaces.