THE SUNDAY OREGONIAN", PORTLAND, DECEMBER 11. 1910.
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l The Swami Bungaloola was the rankest sort of fraud.
But he'd organized a "cult" which almost fancied hima god
He had a "cosmic temple where he prated trash and lies.
And among his stanch disciples was the foolish Widow Wise.
2. Her friends soon saw the Swami's game and warned her for herself.
"Ah, no," she cries, "the good man does not seek for sordid pelf:'
His only thought is for my good and how to save my soul."
"Beware!" they said; "he's thinking more of how to get your roll!'
3.
At length one day he said to her, "Last night'there came to me
A message from Mahatma which decreed that you shall be
My Priestess High. So marry me, and when you are my wife
Your wealth we'll use to spread the cult of -everlasting life!"
4.-" You're sure,"rthe Widow asked'In doubt, my "wealth you.dohot seek?"
"How could I use; it?" he replied. "I eat but once a week.
My food is thought, and thought alone. I could not use the stuff.
"I trust.in you," the Widow said, quite: captured Jby-his bluff.
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5. So after that each day or two the Swami came around
And got a roll of yellowbacks the new "cult" to propound.
And when he stayed away a week the Widow grew so blue
That she donned iier things one evening and to find her Swami flew.
6. The "temple" was a brown stone house. The door was open wide.
The Widow never stopped to knock, but softly stepped inside.
She heard the clink of glasses and "Hurrah for Widow Wise!"
And in the. dining room she saw a sight to shock her eyes.
7. Around the table sat a crowd; the Swami, too, was there.
The table groaned with food and wines, and laughter filled trie air.
She saw the Swami raise his glass and cry, "Come, drink a lot!
And never mind the cosr, because my Widow pays the shot!"
8 The Widow. in a burst of rage dashed in among the crowd.
So, this is how you spread the cult!" she cried in accents loud
High Priestess! Bah! I'd notlook well, I fancy, in that guise!
A DUNCE'S CAP WOULD FIT ME BEST!" exclaimed the Widow Wise.