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Lyr Req: Face on the Barroom Floor

DigiTrad:
MADAM LA MARQUISE
THE CREMATION OF SAM MCGEE
THE SHOOTING OF DAN MCGREW


Related threads:
Lyr Add: The Whistle of Sandy McGraw (R W Service) (11)
Lyr Req: Dangerous Dan McGrew-naughty version (6)
Tune Req: The Face on the Bar-room Floor (45)
Lyr Req: In Praise of Alcohol (Robert W Service) (24)
Lyr Req: Shooting of Dan McGrew (Robert W Service) (19)
Ottawa Folk Fest. Robt Service Collection (1)
Cremation of Sam McGee (Robert W. Service) (59)
Tune Req: Michael (Robert Service, Greg Artzner) (6)
Lyr Add: The Shooting of Dan's Guru (15)
Lyr Add: Accordion (Robert Service) (18)
Lyr Req: Dangerous Dan McGrew (35)
Lyr Req: The Quitter (Robert Service) (9)
Add: How MacPherson Held the Floor (Robt. Service) (1)
Ballad of Dangerous Dan McGrew (15)
Help: Robt. W. Service (27)
Rhymes of a Red Cross Man (13)


Joe Offer 27 Sep 97 - 06:08 PM
Joe Offer 27 Sep 97 - 06:43 PM
Bob Schwarer 27 Sep 97 - 07:51 PM
Dale Rose 27 Sep 97 - 08:34 PM
Mark Pemburn 28 Sep 97 - 07:50 AM
Art Ude 28 Sep 97 - 09:37 AM
Gene 28 Sep 97 - 02:07 PM
Bo 28 Sep 97 - 03:14 PM
Dale Rose 28 Sep 97 - 06:51 PM
Mark Pemburn 28 Sep 97 - 09:14 PM
Bill in Alabama 29 Sep 97 - 08:32 AM
Sheye 29 Sep 97 - 10:24 AM
Joe Offer 29 Sep 97 - 04:27 PM
Frank Phillips 30 Sep 97 - 12:52 AM
dick greenhaus 30 Sep 97 - 12:44 PM
Phideaux 12 Jan 98 - 01:29 PM
murray@mpce.mq.edu.au 12 Jan 98 - 10:04 PM
Pauline 26 Nov 98 - 07:48 PM
SteveF 27 Nov 98 - 08:33 AM
Pauline 27 Nov 98 - 11:25 AM
T.R.Bishop 28 Nov 98 - 07:50 AM
gargoyle 28 Nov 98 - 12:58 PM
Joe Offer 29 Nov 98 - 01:59 AM
truhill@aol.com 07 Mar 99 - 01:39 AM
jbarber@radiks.net 31 Mar 99 - 06:14 PM
Joe Eearl 10 Apr 99 - 12:30 PM
Reiver #2 (inactive) 11 Apr 99 - 12:30 PM
Mark Clark 07 Sep 01 - 07:54 PM
Joe Offer 07 Sep 01 - 08:06 PM
GUEST,T. Smith Whitwoth 09 Oct 04 - 10:08 PM
GUEST,LeRoy A. Titus 11 Nov 04 - 08:37 PM
GUEST,.gargoyle 11 Nov 04 - 08:53 PM
GUEST,Daltiz 05 Apr 07 - 09:52 AM
Jim Dixon 06 Apr 07 - 09:12 PM
GUEST,Daltiz 12 Apr 07 - 12:49 PM
M.Ted 13 Apr 07 - 12:11 AM
GUEST,Lee Titus 31 Dec 07 - 07:18 PM
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Subject: RE: Face on the Barroom Floor
From: Joe Offer
Date: 27 Sep 97 - 06:08 PM

Somebody was talking about this poem in another thread. I looked through my Robert W. Service books, and couldn't find it. I finally found the above (an inaccurate version) on the Web, and also in a book called "The Best Loved Poems of the American People." It's certainly written the style of Service. Is this the one you were talking about?
There's a one-act opera with the same name, written in 1978 by Herny Mollicone. There's also a Charlie Chaplin movie with this name.
So, who the heck is H. Antoine D'Arcy?
-Joe Offer-

click for related thread


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Subject: Lyr Add: THE FACE ON THE BARROOM FLOOR
From: Joe Offer
Date: 27 Sep 97 - 06:43 PM

I decided I should clean this up and make it accurate. I think this is an almost-perfect copy of the printed version:
THE FACE ON THE BARROOM FLOOR
Hugh Antoine D'Arcy
'Twas a balmy summer evening and a goodly crowd was there
Which well-nigh filled Joe’s barroom on the corner of the square,
And as songs and witty stories came through the open door
A vagabond crept slowly in and posed upon the floor.

"Where did it come from?" Someone said. "The wind has blown it in."
"What does it want?" another cried, "Some whisky, rum or gin?"
"Here, Toby, seek him, if your stomach's equal to the work --
I wouldn't touch him with a fork, He's as filthy as a Turk."

This badinage the poor wretch took with stoical good grace;
In fact, he smiled as though he thought he’d struck the proper place.
"Come, boys, I know there's kindly hearts among so good a crowd --
To be in such good company would make a deacon proud."

"Give me a drink -- that's what I want -- I'm out of funds, you know;
When I had cash to treat the gang, this hand was never slow.
What? You laugh as if you thought this pocket never held a sou:
I once was fixed as well, my boys, as anyone of you."

"There, thanks; that's braced me nicely; God bless you one and all;
Next time I pass this good saloon, I'll make another call.
Give you a song? No, I can't do that, my singing days are past;
My voice is cracked, my throat's worn out, and my lungs are going fast.

"Say, Give me another whiskey, and I'll tell you what I'll do --
I'll tell you a funny story, and a fact, I promise, too.
That I was ever a decent man, not one of you would think;
But, I was some four of five years back. Say, give me another drink.

"Fill her up, Joe, I want to put some life into my frame--
Such little drinks, to a bum like me, are miserably tame;
Five fingers --there, that's the scheme -- and corking whisky, too.
Well, here’s luck, boys; and, landlord, my best regards to you.

"You've treated me pretty kindly, and I'd like to tell you how
I came to be the dirty sot you see before you now.
As I told you, once I was a man, with muscle, frame, and health,
And, but for a blunder, ought to have made considerable wealth.

"I was a painter -- not one that daubed on bricks and wood
But an artist, and, for my age, was rated pretty good.
I worked hard at my canvas and was bidding fair to rise,
For gradually I saw the star of fame before my eyes.

"I made a picture, perhaps you've seen, 'tis called the 'Chase of Fame.'
It brought me fifteen hundred pounds and added to my name.
And then I met a woman -- now comes the funny part --
With eyes that petrified my brain, and sunk into my heart.

"Why don't you laugh? 'Tis funny that the vagabond you see
Could ever love a woman and expect her love for me;
But 'twas so, and for a month or two her smiles were freely given,
And when her loving lips met mine, it carried me to heaven.

"Did you ever see a woman for whom your soul you'd give,
With a form like the Milo Venus, too beautiful to live;
With eyes that would beat the Koh-i-noor, and a wealth of chestnut hair?
If so, 'twas she, for there never was another half so fair.

"I was working on a portrait, one afternoon in May,
Of a fair-haired boy, a friend of mine, who lived across the way,
And Madeline admired it, and much to my surprise,
Said that she’d like to know the man that had such dreamy eyes.

"It didn't take long to know him, and before the month had flown
My friend had stolen my darling, and I was left alone;
And, ere a year of misery had passed above my head,
The jewel I had treasured so had tarnished, and was dead.

"That's why I took to drink, boys. Why, I never saw you smile,
I thought you'd be amused, and laughing all the while.
Why, what's the matter, friend? There's a teardrop in your eye,
Come, laugh like me; 'tis only babes and women that should cry.

"Say, boys, if you give me just another whiskey, I'll be glad,
And I'll draw right here a picture of the face that drove me mad.
Give me that piece of chalk with which you mark the baseball score --
And you shall see the lovely Madeline upon the barroom floor."

Another drink, and with chalk in hand the vagabond began
To sketch a face that well might buy the soul of any man.
Then, as he placed another lock upon the shapely head,
With a fearful shriek, he leaped and fell across the picture -- dead.

-recorded by Tex Ritter-


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Subject: RE: Face on the Barroom Floor
From: Bob Schwarer
Date: 27 Sep 97 - 07:51 PM

My memory says D'Arcy was a fellow that would recite the Service poem in various bars. Further, I recall a statement in a book I have, but can't find, to the effect that when sober D'Arcy would give a great performance. After a few drinks he was terrific. I'll keep looking for the book, but it may be a while before I find it. Also my memory may be completely wrong.

Bob S.


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Subject: RE: Face on the Barroom Floor
From: Dale Rose
Date: 27 Sep 97 - 08:34 PM

All I know is that I have it on a Hank Snow album attributed to Robert Service. To agree with Sheye, (as stated in the other thread) I have never seen it in print, but I only have one (large) volume of Service poetry. I listened to it just an hour or so ago, by the way. The words are just as Joe posted above. (or below if that is the way you sort entries!) I know record companies are not noted for complete accuracy, but I cannot imagine them making such a glaring error of authorship on something that would have been so easy for them to verify.


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Subject: RE: Face on the Barroom Floor
From: Mark Pemburn
Date: 28 Sep 97 - 07:50 AM

When I was a kid, I was crazy about R. W. Service. "The Face" was one of the poems in the little collection I kept out of the school library long enough to rack up a sizeable fine.

I will raise my right hand and swear to the association of the title with Service's name, but 40-odd years have blurred my recollection of the poem itself. The above seems to have the right flavor, though.

Mark


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Subject: RE: Face on the Barroom Floor
From: Art Ude
Date: 28 Sep 97 - 09:37 AM

I believe I have all of Service's published poems and I cannot find "Face" among them. If any of you would be interested in placing this question in the Guestbook on my Service page please feel free do do so. http://www.top.monad.net/~artude/service.html


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Subject: Lyr Add: THE FACE ON THE BARROOM FLOOR
From: Gene
Date: 28 Sep 97 - 02:07 PM

I compared both of the versions of "FACE" posted above and compared them to Hank Snow's recording of it on -

THE BEST OF HANK SNOW/1972 RCA LSP-4978.
The author of the work is attirbuted to SERVICE.
^^ The text as recorded by Hank Snow is:

THE FACE ON THE BARROOM FLOOR
Recorded by Hank Snow/Author - Service

'Twas a balmy summer evening and a goodly crowd was there
Which well-nigh filled Joe's barroom on the corner of the square
And as songs and witty stories came through the open door
A vagabond crept slowly in and posed upon the floor.

"Where did it come from?" Someone said. "The wind has blown it in?"
"What does it want?" another cried, "Some whiskey, rum or gin?"
"Here, Toby, seek him, if your stomach's equal to the work!"
"I wouldn't touch him with a fork, why, he's as filthy as a Turk."

This badinage the poor wretch took with stoical good grace
In fact, he smiled as though he thought he'd struck the proper place
"Come, boys, I know there's kindly hearts among so good a crowd
Why, to be in such good company would make a deacon proud."

"Give me a drink - that's what I want - I'm out of funds, you know
When I had cash to treat the gang, this hand was never slow
What? You laugh as tho' you thought this pocket never held a sou
Why, I was fixed as well, my boys, as anyone of you."

"There, thanks - that's braced me nicely - God bless you one and all
Next time I pass this good saloon, I'll make another call
Give you a song? No, I can't do that - my singing days are past
My voice is cracked and my throat's worn out and my lungs are going fast.

"Say, Give me another whiskey and I'll tell you what I'll do
I'll tell you a funny story and a fact I promise, too
That I was ever a decent man, not a one of you would think
But, I was some four of five years back - say, give us another drink.

"Fill her up, Joe, I want to put some life into my frame
Such little drinks, to a bum like me, are miserably tame
Five fingers - there, that's the scheme - and corkin' whisky, too
Well, here's luck, boys; and landlord, my best regards to you.

"You've treated me pretty kindly and I'd like to tell you how
I came to be the dirty sot you see before you now
As I told you once, I was a man with a muscle, frame and health
And, but for a blunder, ought to have made considerable wealth.

"I was a painter - not one that daubed on bricks and wood
But an artist and for my age, was rated pretty good
I worked hard at my canvas and I was bidding fair to rise
'Coz gradually I saw the star of fame before my eyes.

"I made a picture perhaps you've seen, 'tis called the 'CHASE OF FAME'
It brought me fifteen hundred pounds and added to my name
And then I met a woman - now comes the funny part
With eyes that petrified my brain and sunk into my heart.

"Why don't you laugh? it's funny that the vagabond you see
Could ever love a woman and expect her love for me
But 'twas so, and for a month or two, her smiles were freely given
And when her loving lips touched mine it carried me to heaven.

"Boys, did you ever see a girl for whom your soul you'd give
With a form like the Milo Venus, too beautiful to live
With eyes like the purest of diamonds and a wealth of chestnut hair?
If so, 'twas she, for there never was another half so fair.

"I was working on a portrait one afternoon in May
Of a fair-haired boy, a friend of mine, who lived across the way
And Madeline admired it and much to my surprise
Said she'd like to know the man that had such dreamy eyes.

"It didn't take long to know him and before the month had flown
My friend had stole my darlin' and I was left alone
And ere a year of misery had passed above my head
The jewel that I had treasured so, had tarnished and was dead.

"That's why I took to drink, boys - why, I never saw you smile
I thought you'd be amused and laughing all the while
Why, what's the matter - friend? There's a teardrop in your eye
Come, laugh like me; why 'tis only babes and women that would cry.

"Say, boys, if you'd give me just another whiskey, I'll really be glad
And I'll draw right here a picture of the face that drove me mad
Give me that piece of chalk with which you mark the baseball score
And you shall see the lovely Madeline upon the barroom floor."

Another drink and with chalk in hand the vagabond began
To sketch a face that well might buy the soul of any man
And then as he placed another lock upon the shapely head
With a fearful shriek, he leaped and fell across the picture - dead.


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Subject: RE: Face on the Barroom Floor
From: Bo
Date: 28 Sep 97 - 03:14 PM

A favourite book of mine "Bawdy Ballads and Lusty Lyrics", Droke House Publ. Indianapolis, 1935, ,1950, has this poem. In the Introduction it says:

This classic, by Hugh D'Arcy, was first printed in 1887, and titled "The Face upon the Floor." It is amusing to note that it was never intended to point out the perils of stron drink, but merely to portray the degradation of an artist tortured by the loss of his sweatheart. The poem was seized by the W.C.T.U., and later the Ani-Saloon League, the title altered, and millions of copies distributed as propaganda.


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Subject: RE: Face on the Barroom Floor
From: Dale Rose
Date: 28 Sep 97 - 06:51 PM

Does this mean that all of us who are confused at to the authorship owe our confusion to the Hank Snow recording, or is there some other connection, as Mark suggests?


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Subject: RE: Face on the Barroom Floor
From: Mark Pemburn
Date: 28 Sep 97 - 09:14 PM

Funny how memory is . . . I searched the web trying my damnedest to connect this Ballad with Service, but it seems it can't be done. Ah, well. I did discover that Charlie Chaplin made a (silent) movie of the story during "the Little Tramp's early days at Sennett".

Mark


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Subject: RE: Face on the Barroom Floor
From: Bill in Alabama
Date: 29 Sep 97 - 08:32 AM

I have always seen the poem attributed to D'Arcy. I have never heard the song, but I would like very much to hear it; it fits right in with some of the other stuff I do in my performances.


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Subject: RE: Face on the Barroom Floor
From: Sheye
Date: 29 Sep 97 - 10:24 AM

Joe: THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!!!! Do I owe you a kiss, or a batch of cookies? (I can whip up a mean chocolate-chocolate chip.)

The producers of Snow's album seem to have assumed this is a Service poem, and then so many of us took the attribution as being accurate. At any rate, it is an excellent work of art, beautifully told by Snow, written in the style of Service, created by (D'Arcy?).


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Subject: RE: Face on the Barroom Floor
From: Joe Offer
Date: 29 Sep 97 - 04:27 PM

Here's a summary I found of the Charlie Chaplin movie:
Face on the Bar Room Floor, The (1914)
The plot is a satire derived from Hugh Antoine D'Arcy's poem of the same title. The painter courts Madeleine but loses to the wealthy client who sits for his portrait. The despairing artist draws the girl's portrait on the barroom floor and gets tossed out. Years later he sees her, her husband and their horde of children. Unrecognized by her, Charlie shakes off his troubles and walks off into the future.

I spent a wonderful afternoon Sunday with an old guy who had tried to make a living as an artisan in Central City, Colorado. He says there is a face painted on the floor of a barroom there, and it's supposed to be "the" face. My friend isn't so sure of that. Central city has become a bit of a tourist trap, and the face is certainly good for business.

Now, if Bo is correct and the poem was written by D'Arcy in 1887, that predates Robert W. Service (1874-1958) - that is, unless Service was some sort of child prodigy.

So, Sheye, how do I qualify for both the kiss andthe cookies?

-Joe Offer-


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Subject: RE: Face on the Barroom Floor
From: Frank Phillips
Date: 30 Sep 97 - 12:52 AM

In one of the early Mad Magazine pocket books (ca. 1960) there is an illustrated version of this poem. The face as portrayed in the final frame of the strip would have killed anyone.

Frank


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Subject: RE: Face on the Barroom Floor
From: dick greenhaus
Date: 30 Sep 97 - 12:44 PM

There's a tendency to attribute authorship to the most prominent writer of that period who did similar material. "Face" is often (wrongly) attributed to Service, as is When the Ice-Worms Nest Again; nowadays, anything funny is attributed to Shel Silverstein. Since many of these attributions show up in print, it's hard to keep things straight.


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Subject: RE: Face on the Barroom Floor
From: Phideaux
Date: 12 Jan 98 - 01:29 PM

Finally found my book during a garage cleaning that has needed to be done for a dozen years, or more.

It is simply titled "America Ballads" editted by Charles O'Brien Kennedy.

Kennedy says he knew D'Arcy and even refers to him as "Hughie". He also says that correct title is "The Face on the Floor".

My memory wasn't worth a hoot, except I knew I had the book.

Bob S.


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Subject: RE: Face on the Barroom Floor
From: murray@mpce.mq.edu.au
Date: 12 Jan 98 - 10:04 PM

Thanks Art Ude, for calling my attention to your RWS page It is a good thing to know about.

I looked at the guest book there, and the question seems to have been answered previously, namely that Service didn't write "The face on the x-room Floor" but this D'Arcy guy did. (Where x can stand for "bar" or "ball".)

Murray


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Subject: RE: Face on the Barroom Floor
From: Pauline
Date: 26 Nov 98 - 07:48 PM

What about Carson City Nevada? I remember visiting a museum there in the early 60s and there was a face there that was supposed to be the face.. Actually it was Joes bar converted to a museum and supposedly the "face". I knew the poem, but not the author... before going there was amazed to see it and believed it was real.


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Subject: RE: Face on the Barroom Floor
From: SteveF
Date: 27 Nov 98 - 08:33 AM

To Frank Phillips -

Yes, I recall reading Mad's illustrated version of the poem back about '53 or '54, when Mad was still in its comic book format.

The strip was illustrated by Basil Wolverton, a talented artist now in the Comic Book Illustrators' Hall of Fame (this is not a joke). Wolverton was quite versatile; however, when he drew for Mad, his specialty was to create the ugliest, most hideous female imaginable. Thus, after the suspenseful build-up of the lovely Madeleine, the poem ends with Wolverton's masterpiece. No wonder our artist dropped dead! Blechh!

-- Steve F.


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Subject: RE: Face on the Barroom Floor
From: Pauline
Date: 27 Nov 98 - 11:25 AM

Doing some research on the internet.. Seems the "face" in Central City, CO was drawn by an artist of his wife in repsonse to the poem.


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Subject: RE: Face on the Barroom Floor
From: T.R.Bishop
Date: 28 Nov 98 - 07:50 AM

Most Interesting. I have never heard that Service wrote the poem. All I have read indicates the poem was written by D'arcy. I have heard the record by Tex Ritter and that got me interested in the poem. I have been searching for a bio on D'Arcy but have not found it yet. Could use some help on this.


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Subject: RE: Face on the Barroom Floor
From: gargoyle
Date: 28 Nov 98 - 12:58 PM

No doubt, there are hundreds of bars with faces painted on the floor in responce to the verse. Another one is located in Camarron, New Mexico...Joe's Ranch Bar features a face on the floor, a two headed calf and jalepino-pepper-pizza. The postcard correctly atributes the verse to D'Arcy.


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Subject: RE: Face on the Barroom Floor
From: Joe Offer
Date: 29 Nov 98 - 01:59 AM

T.R., I did quite a bit of research on this, and all credible sources credited the poem to Hugh Antoine D'Arcy. It appears it was first printed in 1887, but I have not been able to confirm that date. The attribution to Robt. Service is clearly mistaken.
-Joe Offer-


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Subject: RE: Face on the Barroom Floor
From: truhill@aol.com
Date: 07 Mar 99 - 01:39 AM

I'm interested in obtaining a copy of the recording of The Face On The Barroom Floor by Stuart Hamblen. I had the record in the early 60's, but have misplaced it over the years/marriages/moves.

I'd appreciate hearing from anyone that might have a copy.

Don Truhill


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Subject: RE: Face on the Barroom Floor
From: jbarber@radiks.net
Date: 31 Mar 99 - 06:14 PM

I have been a Robert Service Fan for years now and have wondered about The Face on the Barroom Floor, as it is in the same style that Service uses. I remimber reading one of Services pomes where he refers to the Face on the Barroom Floor and it is called "The Leather Medal" In that poem he referes to the Cramation of Sam McGee and the Face on the Barrom Floor as being by two different authors.


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Subject: RE: Face on the Barroom Floor
From: Joe Eearl
Date: 10 Apr 99 - 12:30 PM

I have just found the `face` after searching for it, after being presented with the poem word for word which was written on some very ancient paper. However the footnote reads "This monologue was taken from a true story. It really happened in Montreal, and there is still the picture of a woman on the barroom floor of one of Montreal’s principal bars." This was about 1940.
Joe


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Subject: RE: Face on the Barroom Floor
From: Reiver #2 (inactive)
Date: 11 Apr 99 - 12:30 PM

I remember seeing the Face on the Barroom Floor in Central City, CO, as a ten year old, back in 1940. At that time, I knew nothing about a poem or song, there was just a written story about a down-on-his-luck miner who painted it in exchange for drinks. It was a very nicely done painting as I remember and certainly not drawn with chalk. It would be interesting to know more about the history of this painting and whether or not it was prompted by the poem, or had an entirely independent origin. Thanks to all of you who researched this thread. It's fascinating. Bryce


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Subject: RE: Face on the Barroom Floor
From: Mark Clark
Date: 07 Sep 01 - 07:54 PM

Geoff the Duck gave put me in a notion to refresh this.


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Subject: RE: Face on the Barroom Floor
From: Joe Offer
Date: 07 Sep 01 - 08:06 PM

As stated in this thread (click), the original version of this poem was published in the newspaper in Ashtabula, Ohio. We still haven't found the text of the original poem. Can anybody find it?

In this thread (click), we're looking for the original text of Curley Fletcher's Strawberry Roan, Published in the Arizona Globe Record on December 16, 1915, under the title "The Outlaw Bronco."

-Joe Offer-


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Subject: RE: Face on the Barroom Floor
From: GUEST,T. Smith Whitwoth
Date: 09 Oct 04 - 10:08 PM

H. Antoine D'Arcy isn't the only one to mimic Rovert Service -- "The Hermit of Shark Tooth Shoal" isn't by Service, either, but written by Edward Paramore Jr.


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Subject: RE: Face on the Barroom Floor
From: GUEST,LeRoy A. Titus
Date: 11 Nov 04 - 08:37 PM

LIFE OF JOHN HENRY TITUS
                                                            
                                                                         Why And How He Wrote

                                                                  "The Face on The Bar Room Floor"

                                                                         By Elizabeth Pfleiderer

    Little has been published of his life and works. To quote his words "My writing are my life." Know the man, then no one will mistake his work for that of another ! The key to the understanding of his writings can be found in the manner he worked. "The Face on The Bar Room Floor" is an American scene and the fifth canto of "An Ideal Soul" in seven cantos. John Henry Titus, the author SPENT sixty years perfecting this poem. Its dawning followed the followed the civil war, in the late '60s, when inspiration and eloquence came fourth. TEMPERANCE was championed by eloquent speakers, and ABOLITION intensified by great writers, such as Harriet Beecher Stowe. Burning zeal glowed in fine expression borne on the spirit of the time...temperance, the fervor fever, was apparent in all things, no less in this poem. The young poet, Titus recognized the denizens of temperance, in the guise of righteousness: he saw and felt the hypocrisy of temperance.
    Jefferson, Ohio, his birthplace was a small town but its atmosphere was far from local. It was the home of many men, eminent, in state and national affairs; as Benjamin F. Wade, Vice President following Lincoln's administration; Congressman Giddings; A. B. Lampson, reader, House of Representatives, in Washington, for seventeen years; and the famous William D. Howells, with whom the poet's father, William K. Titus was associated for forty-five years in varied capacities--- furbishing of writings and publication of the "Sentinel" a Jefferson paper, owned by the Howells, in which the first printing of "the Face On The Bar Room Floor" appeared.
    William K. Titus, father of the poet, born at Greenwich, Conn. was a fine literary critic and his criticism of the poem was ever heeded by the son. " A poet should have written for fifty years and know that he is a poet before giving his writings to the world" said his father. This criticism has been as a restraining hand to the poet, until now, sixty years after it was begun... parodies written and translated into many languages.
    John Henry Titus, the poet was born in the "Old Pine Tavern" that his poem is immortalized. The environment of his boyhood home was ideal for a gifted youth. "That the meal hour was the best hour of the day" was an oft repeated saying of the mother: at the family table and home fireside he became familiar with the best literature; listening to discussions and conversations led by the father.
    The early associations of the father, in the east, were those high in letters and affairs and they were vividly imprinted on the sons mind. they included experiences he had with Washington Irving and Edger Allen Poe, the famous American authors, with whom he had taken holiday excursions, on the Hudson, in and about Sleepy Hollow. The first hand knowledge gleaned from early friendships passed on to the son---methods of creating and writing used by those famous writers. It was an intimate introduction to the writings of Titus and helped to stamp them, with the mark of high quality, and lofty ideals. The poem "The Awkward Boy" written by Titus at the age of twelve was published in the McGuffey Readers. The father told him interesting tales and legends, known in the east: of which he had enjoyed with Poe and Irving. These nuggets impressed the mind of the youth, as a chapter or a poem... the genius of his perception could see the golden train of thought. The original " Black Dove Legend" known to Poe, that influenced the writing of "The Raven" also influenced Titus in the writing of " The Face on The Bar Room floor."
    While as a youth he became an apprentice to the tannery trade in Jefferson. Here his first strong work began to eke out... in patches and bunches, written on bits of bark and leather. During his day's work messengers ( of thought ) hovered impressing inspirationally his mind with conditions of life that were conducive to moods, during the inception of his poem... moods that showed the soulful side of the youthful poet, that will never die! The web structure of his entire life and work were woven at this time:
                                       
                                                                   And in the sunset of life the poet tells
                                                                   For future youth the thought:
                                                                   Of worth in the tan unto making of fame,
                                                                   And where... father was taught.
   
    The vivid picture as drawn, in later years, by Titus, as he tells of the unfoldment of the poem, is evidence of his undeniable genius. In a state of unrest and frenzy, he worked, ever and anon! unmindful of return. To quote his own words, "I didn't and could not sleep, it stuck to me so.
    Walt Whitman was credited with having worked in the fields and forests, when he thrashed out his poem."Leaves of Grass"-- the dream of a great man which was also those of the people of the earth. Just so, Titus worked in the tannery with the hides, shaping "The face on The Bar Room Floor"... dreamed for the people a message on temperance reform. His power of moral discernment shines when compared to the immoral hypocrisy around him.
    The "clan" or political bunch, who labeled all outside of their inner circle; the beautiful truth that beamed in the lives of creatures, as Bob the artist, and Madgelene his sweetheart, seemed as romance, and nuggets he recognized at the inn ( The Tavern ).
    Legends handed down by the father (as that of Poe) had rooted deep into his nature. He, the boy poet, developed them in the tannery, as a photographer does his negatives, in a dark room. The entire poem was oralized, as he worked alone--- his spare time and working hours spent in happy musings. There are persons still living who recall the inspired tanner poet, oralizing and jotting down the nucleus of " The Face on The Bar Room floor" on bits of bark and leather. The townspeople recognized his genius, and often referred to the bits of writing on the leather, as "His Writings."
                                                                                                                                                                                                                                              Under vernal-elms old,
                                                                   the village tanner tans;
                                                                   As boys run at play anon
                                                                   or mark in picture-plans.
                                                                   So in life-idea as aye,
                                                                   ye village-tanner scans,
                                                                   As boys hie at play anon,
                                                                   or mark in picture-plans.

    Boys of favored circumstances, at play, often listened at the open windows, of the tannery, to his expressions and shaping of thought, into expressions; but were careful not to disturb his muses and moods... quietly unnoticed they would slip away remarking, sadly; "To bad John cannot have a chance." The truth was, that he was having his chance and making the most of it. "To organize a sentiment is a great task," he has said.
    His heights and flights, of expressions were strengthened by sensitiveness, to local conditions... a local option town, in the early '70s, a liquor traffic, and its hypocrisy, as practiced by the "godly lot" of the town, who had demijohns. He also remembered, finding empty whisky bottles hidden away, in the court house wood-pile--- as a youth he had often replenished the wood box, for the judges, lawyers and officials. Then, too, his father, a temperate man had been labeled by "the godly lot" because of an occasional drink. He was neither intemperate, nor a hypocrite--- the young poet resented the injustice to a great soul, his father; his soul had suffered from these insinuations. These conditions served as a background to his moods during inception, perception and conception of the poem.
    "The Face on The Bar Room Floor" contains a message of moral, clothed in beautiful romance of fact and legend, covering a period of more than 600 years. Artist Bob and Madgelene, his sweetheart and ideal soul, were in reality identified with the legend, which had its origin in an Alpine royal family mystery. The "Ole Pine Tavern" at Jefferson, Ohio was a Famous way-side inn, in the early stage days: "Astir the pine in somber lay.".... the pine was a favorite stopping place for the travelers.
    The Tavern room where the scene occurred was frequented by judges, juryman, lawyers, men of quality and those of national prominence. Above was a room ( ball-room ) used for court sessions during a period of rebuilding the court house:      

                                                                   "that 'oversaw' Joes bar room
                                                                   as court on the square;"

    The term bar room used by Titus, does not refer to an ordinary saloon bar room, but to a tavern registry room, where guests of the tavern on arriving, by stage were received and registered. Beneath the desk was kept a supply of " whiskey, rum or gin " according to Federal Law requirements... guests could receive a certain quantity on arrival.
    It was necessary to keep the " whiskey score " : " fetch the char you mark the whiskey score "--- plagiarists and parody writers, in the versions wrote: " Bring the chalk you mark the baseball score score. " A baseball score had not yet come into existence. Those claiming authorship of the poem knew little of the place, and customs existing, at the time the poem was written.
    In like manner, the phrase, " Ten Nights in A Bar Room " was grossly misinterpreted. Titus told of Ten Knights ( Ten Nights ) meeting in upper room of the Tavern with demijohns, to settle difficult violation cases... difficult and hard cases which took ten consecutive nights, and until morning to complete. They were members of a fraternal order ( Knights of Templars ) and a part of the " godly lot ." Artist Bob, on the memorable night, of his returning to the tavern was recognized by a member of the secret order ( Knights of Templar ) hence, as given in poem:

                                                      " As barinage the mystcreant took in static
                                                       grace intact, as one of place;
                                                       and doting low as embers fall---- nods
                                                       inturn as secret call."

   The vagabond, known in earlier days in the town, as artist Bob, was known in the east before coming to Jefferson, by the poets father. artist Bob had won fame as an artist... had conceived the well known picture " The volunteer Choir. " he was present at the first funeral at " The Little Church around The corner " on twenty-ninth street, New York City, for the stage folks, when the volunteer choir supplied the music. This incident in the life of artist Bob, was told to the poet, by his father, as legend.
    That the soul of the young poet, or singer was craving for a larger life of greater expression can be recognized throughout the poem, and his susceptibility to the spirit of the age and local conditions, discerned... nothing was too local to have the ear marks of deduction, and the consciousness of the existence of an evil, that could become universal, is conspicuous throughout.
    He was gifted with a scholarly touch and an easy command of rhyme and rhythm: it must sound correctly to he ear... the euphony of tones, their shades and shapes is that of a poet of the highest rank; choice and use of words show the realm in which he dwelt: although he has said " My poems are the soliloquy of my soul--- technique gives way to divine passion."
    His art of poetry writing was applied in disputation of intemperance--- which resembles that of today. John Henry Titus was truly the discoverer of the immoral phases, existing in a liquor traffic, in the name of temperance. His fame today rests upon this poem, undoubtedly a masterpiece. The scene in The Pine Tavern, in the late '6os and the conditions of life--- a pious-role played by a "godly lot"... social conditions, good and evil, which underlined a distinctive period of our history.
    Who, that has read it, has ever forgotten it? It has truly niched itself into the world's utterances... its charm and moral purity charms the heart.
    However, one contribution does not make a poet. Titus has been wise and true, in aim of soul, and obedient to an inner voice, for sixty years. Having no set rules of diction, creed; religion, cult, isms or schisms. he has lived in the world and his poems carry the essence of great truths. The poem, " They Had no Poet and so They Died " is destined to fill a niche and need. Quoting from poem:

                                                       " In the dim waste lands of the Orient stands
                                                             The wreck of a race so old and vast
                                                          That the great legend cannot lay hands
                                                             On a single fact of its tongueless past; "

This poem is a complete resume of his world travels.

    The opportunity came to him for world travel--- opened the way to live his life into his poems. A large leather concern commissioned him to look after their varied interests, in all parts of the globe, he being versatile with all angles of the leather industry. At different times, he traveled in all parts of the globe, while thus engaged... friendships were made that influenced the production of his finest poems.
    He has embodied his friendship with Edgar Bushnell, the famous actor, in the poem, " The Three Great Lessons of Life: Love, Pain and Hate. " Bushnell played with Sir Henry Irving on his famed tour to America, in 1903, at The Manhattan theatre, New York City.
    The meeting of Bushnell and learning of his domestic disappointment gave impetus to the birth of " Love, Pain and Hate "... in reality a mask for his own domestic unhappiness.
    Bushnell had married an actress, the daughter of Dean Hurd of Oxford University, England. His married life had been stormy and the parting scene, on leaving for America, between he and his wife was deeply strained and affected him: at which he turned to her and gave his feelings from the depths of his soul. This scene he reenacted when he called on Titus in New York. " The same old Story of Life," said Titus. Bushnell asked his meaning, Love, Pain and Hate was the reply. from this social hour, Titus gleaned the situation, and later, on his return handed to Bushnell the poem. " Love, Pain and Hate." The conflict of feelings that raged within his bosom throughout this painful parting scene, and after, are touchingly depicted in the lines written, and which though not mentioned, as addressed to her by name, were evidently for the heart of his loved one.

                                                         You taught me the first great lesson of life,
                                                             The terrible lesson of love;
                                                         You came into my world of struggle and strife,
                                                             As an angel of light from above.
                                                         And you taught me the faith I never had known,            
                                                             Brought me sunshine as radiant dove;
                                                         You taught me to trust you and call you my own;
                                                             You taught me the lesson of love.

                                                         You taught me the second great lesson of life,
                                                             The terrible lesson of pain;
                                                         You mocked at my anguish and soul-strife,
                                                             And my cry for your love in vain.
                                                         You came into my life step by step,
                                                             And caused me to weep as the rain;
                                                         You broke your word,---and feigning, you wept,
                                                             You taught me the lesson of pain.

                                                         Oh! the third great lesson you must not teach,
                                                             The terrible lesson of hate;
                                                         I'll go while I love, repent! I beseech---
                                                             I'll go, love. ere the hour's too late;
                                                         Lest life's scars come, which time can't efface,
                                                             Ere steps I might take be our fate,
                                                         I leave,---but my love will enshadow your face;
                                                             I go ere my love turns to hate.

    Unknown to Titus, he mailed the poem to his wife at Liverpool, England, and within a few weeks, Bushnell made another call...he flourished a letter, on which was a Liverpool postmark, saying, read that! The poem had had the desired effect, and Bushnell was sailing at once for England, having already resigned his engagement at the Theatre. Titus read the letter and incidently the poem " Her Lament "---between the lines was her anguish and lament. A year later Titus visited Bushnell, in his beautiful home at Liverpool, England, and for the first time met his wife. After dinner in the trellis of the arbor, in rustic chairs, Bushnell ( smoking a pipe ) refers again to his domestic life and pours out a soliloquy of his soul, in a strain of perpetrated feeling, instead of a soul's reconciliation. The recital was as if it were an outpouring of the constant feeling of a martyr... the third poem was then written " Truth and Error " ( or reconciliation ). The close intimacy of two strong characters, the actor and poet drew out the material for the companion poems; that show how clearly he could feel and relate the emotions of a romance.
    Throughout the years an enduring friendship existed between John Henry Titus and Elbert Hubbard, II. The following statement's taken from a letter dated, May 27th, 1915, and addressed to John Henry Titus. The letter was written after the sinking of the Lusitania, on which Elbert Hubbard and his wife Alice lost their lives: " I can only thank you with all my heart for your kind words of sympathy and cheer. They give me much comfort. Their spirits live and go gloriously down the corridors of time. With strength and courage I bear it all. You have helped me much. Signed Elbert Hubbard, II. In a letter dated October 4th, 1912, from Elbert Hubbard to Titus are the following words: " I must thank you for your good letter of the 1st. Your spelling is a bit original, but then, we must not expect conformity in a genius. My idea is that anyone who can write as good poetry as you should keep right at it." The 3 'Hs, which were used and referred to innumerable times, in the writings of Hubbard were taken from a poem by Titus: Head, Heart and Hand. Hubbard, after many reprints made a public statement, in his chapel---"that from that time on it would always appear in Quotes, thereby giving due credit to its author, John Henry Titus." The poem was written after a delightful visit to the Roycroft Shops, at East Aurora... while alone and reflecting on the beautiful work of Hubbard and his wife, Alice---comparing it with his earlier life, in the Larkin Soap Industry. The beauty and greatness of the Roycroft Shop was seen and felt through the eyes and soul of a poet...he saw the unison of "Head, Heart and Hand." The 3 'Hs were carved on the private door of Hubbard's office.
    At one time Hubbard was the guest speaker, at a banquet, at Boston, Mass. attended by the presidents of ten railroads. Mr. Daniels, Pres. of the New York Central Railroad saw such elegance and beauty in the words of the poem as given by Hubbard that he suggested use of them---to be used in marble, for the New York Terminal, where they are today---Head, Heart and Hand in marble.
    Hubbards interest and admiration for " The Spartan Warrior " and " The Litany " poems of Titus brought them to the attention of the same group of men. Hubbard's comment on the poem, " The Spartan Warrior " was, " It has more Spartan in it than have found in ten volumes of Grecian history." " Neither snow nor rain, nor heat nor gloom of night, stays these couriers ( corridors in the original ) from their appointed rounds " the inscription on the General Post Office, New York City, taken from " The Litany " and suggested by Elbert Hubbard.
    His travels in all the world, in different lands, under many conditions brought forth deductions, from his culture, that was broad and general; not that of a bookworm or student, but of a receptive and communicative mind. " They Had no Poet and so They Died " gives angles of his deductions, of the past, present and a prophetic message; he could see in the works of Socrates, Plato, Demosthenes, Diogenes and Aristotle, at Athens, that their souls pulsated to other men and their lives. In Carthage, Troy, Egypt, Japan, in the dim waste lands of the Orient, and regions of the dark Congo...all goes unrecorded and for nought: the Land of Tropics and our own sun crowned West, yes! even here as the earth waxed old, a race Titanic did once abide, their story too was left untold, as he observed, hence:
                                                   They had no poet and so they died.
Nothing has ever changed or obscured his deep sincerity and natural poetic expressions...thus, he has been a kind bard or singer of beautiful verses throughout a long period of years---giving poetry of grace and originality, and earned the title of a delightful evening with him and undergone the charm of his poetry. The essence of Titus writings might be defined thus: the romance is genuine, sentiment pure and heart-felt, with soulful heroism. The commonplace things of life reflect the worth of character and high ideals; yet, no tendency toward any creed, cult or schism. This is beautifully illustrated in his poem " Le Titusian." It answers the question of immortality for those of any creed.

                                                         The wick pales..
                                                         Curls; bends---
                                                         "Tis nearer dawn,
                                                         Its beam I see.
                                                         I wake; I rouse;
                                                         I yawn; I live:
                                                         I am; "Tis I:
                                                         Close not the
                                                         door; "tis I!
                                                         be not afraid.
                                                         So be my bourn
                                                         as dawn.. alway:
                                                         True nobleness.
                                                         Honorable man,
                                                         citadel of God.

    While his poems were not written in the beginning with thought of publication, they soon found a way into all parts of the world. " The face on The Bar Room Floor " has a firm hold on the hearts of all English-speaking people, and brought fame. He has always written and given to the world utterances, unmindful of return. Incidents that agree in the progression of the poem " The Face on The Bar Room Floor " from the concept, to its completion have made the poem immortal. It could not have been written at another place or time. The descriptions of the Old Pine Tavern, a local option town, in the early '70s, the tavern bar room ( not a saloon in New York ), Artist Bob and Madgelene, can easily be identified; his descriptions are so accurate. He had the gift of preserving local characters, in the vernacular; preserving them in oral expression, for all ages and, in such a way, that they will never be merged into oblivion. It resolves itself into folk-lore and so it will ever be.
    He wrote around a local problem " temperance " and the control and regulation of liquor traffic, a problem that has become national in importance. The " godly lot " a term that serves well today, he used in irony, not in the absolute. The godly lot we still have playing pious-roles with demijohns, and engaged in a nefarious liquor traffic.
    This biographical sketch is given to the world, the world is entitled to it, that no injustice be done anyone, that the inner urge of his age---the ways of it, be known, and leave the author, unlabeled from any sophistry or creed.
    John Henry Titus, the author, now 80 and over is giving his famous poem to the world. It will be followed by many unpublished gems, destined to become a part of the world's utterances.
    Winfred P. Welden, President of the Anti-Cigarette League of America has started for publication, " that the poem The Face on The Bar Room Floor belongs with the literature of temperance reform as inevitable as 'Uncle Tom's Cabin' belongs to the literature of abolition."
   
   
   

   

            

More About JOHN HENRY TITUS:
Burial: 1947, Greenwood Cemetary, Brooklyn, New York


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Subject: RE: Face on the Barroom Floor
From: GUEST,.gargoyle
Date: 11 Nov 04 - 08:53 PM

Interesting, Interesting... with a touch of jaundiced tripidation.

Sincerely,
Gargoyle


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Subject: RE: Lyr Req: Face on the Barroom Floor
From: GUEST,Daltiz
Date: 05 Apr 07 - 09:52 AM

If anyone reads this I have a copy of The Face on the Barroom Floor that is in Titus' original form. It is typewritten and is signed in ink by Titus. It is also marked as being copyrighted by Titus.

Under the title it says -original 1872-

Condition is good with some yellowing. No rips, one bent corner. Anyone with any information, other than what's on this link already, would be greatly appreciated.

Great link by the way.


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Subject: Lyr Add: FACE ON THE BAR-ROOM FLOOR (De Witt, Hope
From: Jim Dixon
Date: 06 Apr 07 - 09:12 PM

Another version, from sheet music at The National Library of Australia:

"Latest American Rage"
THE FACE ON THE BAR-ROOM FLOOR
Words, Maurice De Witt; music, Leonard Hope;
Publisher: Dinsdales, Melbourne [190-?]

1. The barroom was crowded one calm summer's eve.
The air filled with laughter and song.
When a tramp old and ragged crept into the room,
With sneers he was hailed by the throng.
Said he, "If you'll listen, my story I'll tell,
If you'll give me a drink, nothing more.
I'm a broken-down artist and for you I'll paint
A face on the barroom floor."

CHORUS: Ah! That face on the barroom floor,
The woman that I adored!
What a different man I might have been
If she were still my heart's own queen!
But my dream of life is o'er;
On the earth we'll meet no more.
A cruel faithless wife
That I loved as my life,
The face on the barroom floor!

2. The crowd gathered round and stood greatly amazed
At the beautiful face that he drew.
He said, "Years ago we were wed, Nance and I.
I ne'er thought that she'd prove untrue;
But a tempter one day came and lured her away.
My bright hopes in life are no more.
Then with one fearful shudder he fell dead across
The face on the barroom floor.


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Subject: RE: Lyr Req: Face on the Barroom Floor
From: GUEST,Daltiz
Date: 12 Apr 07 - 12:49 PM

I will try to post verbatim from the original copy that I have in front of me. It is not easy as his use of the language is odd and his typewrite had a habit of only partially printing some letters. Oh well, here goes.............

COLUMN ONE

Astir the pine in sombre lay.
'Twas a barmy autumn night,
-and a-godly lot was there that oversaw Joe's bar-room,
as Court on the square:
And as song in wit as story ekes of oaken door,
a vagabond stept lowly in asken on the floor:
As someone, "ha" where's it from?
Wind's blown it in: what does
want? whiskey! rum or gin? See,
Tobe! sic! Joe's can do the work I wouldn't touch with a fork: it's
fetid as a Turk! "As barinage
the myscreant took in static
grace intact, as one of place, and
doting lowas embers fall nods
in turn cesret call: and Joe
growls at hackman late, but
heightens glee as glass to brim,
as judge and jury wait: yet naught
of tort pays to goad or hurl at
pine beside the road, -as onesays,
"he's clean..a gentleman too!
who knows of scar(?) Joe, look
in-side down'ur throat! Men Tom's
hard: thousands bad but sees-'
neith the coat the man. . "Yes Tom-
tis so of a burly crowd: such on
turn would make the deacon proud:
a-dram I want, hardly fixed for
snow; when as yore Bob was never
slow; what! ascur as if or not
this wallet had a-sou; once was
up who knows as any one of you
there: thanks; good! rock-n-rye;
helps me some..God bless you all;
perchance again would call; night,
-goodnight, cold! what, a song(?)
no, can't do that..singin days
past; voice cracked! throat's
worn! lungs are going fast; says
a snook..and what'd do..a punny
tale as ever knew; that I was any
'count,-who'd think(?) but 20
years back! turn a drink; fill-
er-up Joe, want some life in my
frame; such to "C" are miserly
tame! there, five fingers the
stuff and cracking whiskey too;
well, here's and landlord, same
to you-set down! U've used me
well and won't blame as tell an-
howas Joe and broken now. Once
was a man of calling name and
health..and but for gamble ought
've won fame as wealth; was a
painter, not on brigand wood, but
of Florence as alpine neighborhood
wept at my canvas a mystcreant
of dispise in the halo-heights
of Switzerland on the winds of
paradise!

COLUMN TWO

Made a picture few have seen..the
Chaise of Fame:-fetched 1500 francs
at Monte Carlo game; then a woman
hear the stunning start, with eyes
that turned my brain as life of
art: not a nudess of garden-role,
or stone, nor naughty, but an ideal
soul: So changed-strange that a
vagabond should love, seems wrong..
but 'tis so was ever neat and
love was given, and in her ruby
lips and mine..O God: 'twas heaven:
-Ever see of pine for..own would
give(?) of form as Goddess Vebus,
too worshipful to live..and eyes
afar in lays of raven jet hair?
So! "twas she an '-never-'nother!
Half so fair. I was groping at
my canvass, out a task of shadow
lay off Joe's tintype by mother
at midnight sun as day..and own
makes of it in toss of covet-prize
..and acts in accent of it and,
such! dreamy eyes. Was't long for
in the curfew moan Joe sat by her
and I was left alone; and in the
year of misery and ache of heart
the jewel of my soul tales of
pine as dead. 'Tis the story; but
scarce a turn or smile..felt
might be aver as something mean
or vile; and what's wrong Tom, a
tear..a-sigh(?) Ha, laugh.. but
woman's cry! Say Joe, a -brace, and
I'll feel better..glad, and draw
right here in memory, the one that
drove me mad-fetch the char you
mark the whiskey score and see..
her face in fancy on the bar-room
floor. So ashen alway as nun
affright; and clarion as volunteer
choir or person of mistook right;
O image divine at pillow-pane as
wont..and rogueishly shy, she
comes in her girlish-caress and
accent of solace goodbye. Who
knows maybe I was at fault, and
blind to tear, as sigh as sage of
Mona Lisa wrought in Bob so bad
as I!"

Another as wil-o'clock dram..and
knelt with char askan at sketch
of one might stir the soul of
any man: then a truant memory lock
..in accent low, "Madgelene" thou
mistook one! struggles to rise and
with cry as phantom of dread..
leaps as in her arms forgiven; and
fell on the picture dead.

To the best of my abilities this is the exact way it appears on this paper that is dated 1872 and is signed in ink by John Henry Titus. If anyone would like a photo of this, please let me know.


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Subject: RE: Lyr Req: Face on the Barroom Floor
From: M.Ted
Date: 13 Apr 07 - 12:11 AM

Thanks for posting that! It's great--and a good bit different than the version we are familiar with--


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Subject: RE: Lyr Req: Face on the Barroom Floor
From: GUEST,Lee Titus
Date: 31 Dec 07 - 07:18 PM

Yes, I would like very much like a photo of this as I am a decendent of John Henry Titus, This would be greatly appreciated. My Email address is res0anv7@verizon.net. Thank You,
LeRoy A. Titus Jr.


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