A ranger told this one, so it must be true.
So I will swear to it, and pass it to you:
Before Rainier's Park had-been favored by Fame
Here dwelt a young brave, Indian Henry by name,
A son-in-law-three-ply of Wapenayo,
Whose daughters all three, he had married, you know.
And this is the story of Henry they tell,
That for a brief time, that "quadrangle" worked well.
He was a great hunter, his larder kept filled;
In arts culinary one squaw was quite skilled;
And one with a needle was nimble and quick.
At tanning of deer-hides she knew every trick,
So Henry was fed, and was clothed to his taste,
Of game that he killed not a bit went to waste.
He longed for a change as years had passed by,
(Who knows but poor Henry had three reasons why)?
And so to the law with his troubles he went,
The judge said, "You must with one wife be content,
The rules of this land never three will allow,
But send away two and be happy enow".
Poor Henry thought hard, for he loved a good meal,
Like-wise of good togs he had valued the feel,
His third squaw was deaf, and as dumb as a stone,
But with her he'd had all the quiet he'd known,
And her, for good reasons no man will despise,
Brave Henry regarded as his greatest prize,
Her silence had made her a jewel of worth:
So that one he chose, and was happy thenceforth.
A. J. Styles,