The Treasure

To Hebron Dudley Bailey came

To teach in ’32,

A man of God, or so he’d claim,

His peers, though, misconstrued.

 

He preached the cryptic wealth of Christ

Which none could understand

Such that no thinking would suffice

Though he knew truth firsthand.

 

Though he believed that he’d found God,

Would see him up above,

Preceptors said, “this man’s a fraud

Who blasphemes, void of love.”

 

And old Red Purington, the head

Of school, with piercing stare

Sent Dudley off to live instead

Someplace that wasn’t there.

 

So Dudley packed his bags and left,

Wife Hannah by his side,

They traveled through the state bereft,

Devoid of any pride.

 

They came to Greene and there he preached,

For seven years or less,

When soon in Greene did rumors reach

That Dud was blasphemous.

 

And as before, to Cornville, Wayne,

St. Albans, Hartland too,

Until near all the state of Maine,

Of Dudley’s repute knew.

 

By then his daughter Harriet,

Born 18 years before,

Abandoned this Iscariot,

a new life she left for.

 

So agéd Dudley and his wife,

Tried Monson for a while,

But word got through again—so rife

—One more supposéd crime.

 

But when the mayor looked for Dud,

To send him on the path,

He found inside Dud’s home a flood,

And Dud drowned in the bath.

 

His wife returned to Hebron then,

And dug him in the ground,

The place where she had grown up when

Her father owned the town.

 

Old Red’s son, George, head now was he

His own son soon he bred

Named Otis, born 12/23

A year since Dud was dead.

 

Now Hannah midwifed Mrs. George,

the babe loved as her spawn,

A friendship she hoped would be forged,

Alas, they’d soon be gone.

 

On Christmas day, Red went to scrub

All clean for his own health,

But Babe and midwife, drowned in tub,

At last found Christ’s great wealth.

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