If I Were Conan Doyle
If I Were Conan Doyle is a poem written by R. H. L. published in The Chicago Tribune on 12 july 1930.
If I Were Conan Doyle
If I were Conan Doyle,
At last set free from earth,
I wouldn't waste any time calling up people
Over here.
The central girl across the Styx
Is probably just like the ones we have here
On earth.
Why, if I crossed the Styx
And tried to call up the folks back home
And held the receiver to my ear
For what would be a couple of hours over here
(They don't count time over there),
And the Styx operator finally said,
"Say, party, that number doesn't answer,"
I'd almost wish I weren't dead.
Or if they have the dial phones installed
Over there, do you think I'd want to sit around
Picking out numbers and spinning that thing
When I could go outdoors and
Talk with old Charon the boatman,
Who rowed me over, and ask him
If he had any trouble when he
Brought Captain Kidd across, or if Noah
Made a row because he
Couldn't bring his animals with him
Two by two?
No, when I get over there
No fat and blowsy medium over here
Can say she's got me on
The ouija board and that after reaching the land
Of spirits, the greatest adventure that any soul
Could undergo. all I could find to say
Was, "I am very happy here—
And I hope you are the same."
If after I have left this earth
For good
Any medium says I sent that message, then you
Tell her she's holding out on you,
Because if an earth medium
Ever gets me on the ouija board
When I am over there, what I'll say to her
For bothering me just when I am sitting down
To drink a cup of sack
With old Bill Shakespeare, P. T. Barnum,
Charlemagne, and Benedict Arnold
Would certainly be nobody's business.
I'd tell her to leave me alone
And go and put on a clean wrapper
And wash her face and smooth
Her frowsy hair,
And that the world across the Styx
Was too full of all sorts of interesting people
To allow me to waste a moment
Kicking tambourines, ringing bells,
Or doing other stunts for which
She grabbed down two bucks per head
From all the suckers
She could pull into the show.
No, once again and most
Positively, no!
When I get to a land where there's no
Stock ticker, no 85 cent wheat, no farm board,
No book agents or bond salesmen;
No people that want you to do this or that or
The other thing they know damn well
You don't want to do; no honking automobiles
Swooping down to take your life;
No dust or noise or heat (at least I hope there'll
Be no heat) — I just want to ramble around
And have a nice long rest
And satisfy my curiosity about so many things
That bothered me here on earth.
I'd hunt up Alexander
That men called the Great Commander,
And I'd say, "Alex,
You were so smart in solving
That mystery of the Gordian knot,
What about crossword puzzles?
Here's one that had me stumped for two hours.
How long is it going to take
For you to work it out?" And then I'd hunt up
Queen Elizabeth and say,
"Queen (or may I call you Lizzie?),
Since you've been over here
Are you running around again
With your boy friend, Walter Raleigh?"
And while chatting with the queen
Old Nero might stroll by, and I
Would drop poor Liz quite sudden like
And introduce myself to Nero
And tell him I'd just come over
And was mighty glad to see him
And that I'd like to ask him
If he really played the fiddle
While Rome burned. And Nero very likely
Would say that fresh arrivals
Very often got too fresh, and besides that
Fiddle stuff happened quite some time ago,
And for me not to be running around
Dishing up dirt.
And then I'd tell him that back on earth people
Didn't feel so sore at him as
They used to.
And then he'd stop and grin and say,
"Well, that's good news to me;
How come?" And I'd tell him that since
So many people started playing
The saxophone
The world was ready to forgive a guy
That only played the fiddle, even if he played it
While the town was burning down.
"The Romans who got burned up,"
I'd say, "would have suffered more
If you had played
The saxophone."
And Nero would slap me on the back
And laugh and say, "Come on around
And play a round of golf
On our brand new nine hole course
With Henry the Eighth and Confucius
And George Washington."
And after the golf game was finished I think
I'd drop around to the Grande Hotel
De Styx
And have dinner with champagne while
Mozart or Strauss
Led the Styx Syncopated Scallywags
In music that just made me
Want to dance, and so between courses I'd
Waltz around with Mary Queen of Scots, Lucrezia Borgia,
Joan of Arc, sweet Nell Gwyn,
Marie Antoinette, Charlotte Corday, and
Caesar's wife.
You see, I'll have so much to do
When I've left the earth forever
That when some fat medium calls me
From back here and says some one is paging me
On the ouija board and wants
To know how I am getting on
I'll tell the boy to send back word that I
Have said a last good-by
To earth,
And to consider that as final. And then
I'll try to make a date with Cleopatra
Or Anne Boleyn.
R. H. L.
