Life, 1883-04-26 · page 10 of 16
Life — April 26, 1883 — page 10: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
# "The Death of Ponce de Leon" This is a satirical poem mocking the Iowa Prohibition Law through a fictionalized death of the Spanish explorer. The humor works by subverting the legend: Ponce de Leon seeks the mythical Fountain of Youth but instead finds only ordinary water in Florida's Green Cove Springs—a devastating anticlimax when he'd hoped for magical elixir. The satire targets Prohibition itself. The "fountain" represents promises of moral improvement through alcohol ban, while the disappointing reality is "nothing more" than water. When Ponce finally dies, it's to the cry of "Prohibition!"—portrayed as the true killer of joy and enterprise. The text sarcastically praises Ponce's rum-trading and moral flexibility, implicitly mocking Prohibition's crusading moralism. The "Bottling Company" and failed financial schemes suggest the absurdity of the venture. The joke: Prohibition promised transformation but delivered only disappointment—as empty as finding plain water where immortality was promised.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
THE DEATH OF PONCE DE LEON. (MSS, found in a bottle at Greea Cove Springs, Florida, and believed to refer to the Iowa Prohibition Law.] THIS is to tell you the end of a gay and adventurous Spaniard, Leon his patronymic, Ponce his given name ; Great on plum-duff or a handspike, immense on a larboard lanyard, Soldier of Church and the Cross, of Spain and fortune and fame. Seeking the Fountain of Youth, he sailed from sacred Saint Jago. Such was bis innocence holy, he lay his course for the States ; Meaning to trade with the natives, he brought an assorted cargo— Rosaries, relics, and rum—regardless of revenue rates, Ponce was a green young cove, prey to the land speculators ; This is thé fountain he found—called, after him, Green Cove Springs.” Bunco-stecred by land-agents, bugs, beetles, and state legislators, Florida runners, Virginia creepers and other things. A fellow of temper even, And pleasant address as well, Helping a friend into heaven, A mere acquaintance to hell— He bottled the waters of youth, Taught savages goodness and truth, Imported the light of the Cross, Exported—a doubloon the gross— The water of Life. Of evil He'd none. If he slew, at the worst, When consigning his foes to the devil, He always absolved them first. ML. Our hope had been dazzled and dashed, and little left behind it ; Years had waxed and waned since we left St. Jago’s shrine, Still we searched for the fountain, but hanged if we could find it, Weak grew our great Captain for want of the immortal wine. The Bottling Company (limited) stock still lower was quoted ; The gentle savage no longer took guaranteed scrip for sand. We tried a collateral trust, but that mortgage could not be floated. Wearier, hungrier, thirstier grow our little band. Shaky the great speculation, savage.the royal humor, Even-Ponce de Leon's hopes began to sink. We thought the Fountaia a fable—a mere room-trader’s ramor— When at last we reached this longed-for fountain’s brink, And I said to him: “ Ponce,” says I— As we sat on this golden shi And he asked me to drink it—'* Why, This is water, nothing more!" And he saysto me: ‘ What!’ says he ; “ The fountain immortal can be Only water? Leftenant, you lie!” And I says to him: ** Take it and try.” And a Seminole maiden brought a Bumper to him in his hat ; And he said to me, ** Yes, it is water, And d —4d bad water at that !"" ut, One by one the soldiers took the cup and passed it Onward, each to each, and set it down untried. Knowing it by the smell, they did not seek to taste it ; And the Captain, speaking, called me to his side. “ Tell the King, to the ground has come the great undertaking ; All the Springs we've struck are water—nothing more. Bugs infest ‘em and snakes, their thirst uncultured slaking ; Lying thick on their-brinks is the barbarous alligator. Nothing is left us to drink, nor eau-de-vie vor whiskey. In this land the mint and julep flower no more,” So great Ponce de Leon, far from his own sweet Biscay, Felt my answer pierce and cleave him to the core, And he bowed down his hopeless head In the drift of the wide world’s tide, And dying, “/¢ is water,” he said ; “Utts water!" He said it—and died. And when the maiden brought up To us the insipid cup, We answered, in one breath: “* Remove if ; bring us death !" When Ponce raised his high, sad head Once more, no soldier replied ; Then, dying, “ Thou hast conquered,” he said, “* Prohibition!" He said it—and died. A sTouT gentleman, trying to reduce himself, says he enjoys going to evening parties, for the reason that he likes to be around when the company is thinning. Tue ruling passion, etc.—An attorney-at-law, having been given up by his doctor, issued a writ of Me excat regno against himself. We hope our New York readers will remember that upon each one of them rests some responsibility for putting a pedestal under Bartholdi’s statue. The re- presentation of the “ Princess” at the Madison Square ‘Theatre on Wednesday, Thursday and Friday of this week is for the benefit of the statue fund. Go to see the “ Princess.” comicbooks.com