1934 & 1938
"The Bowery"
A poem about people and life in Almy, Wyoming.
Written by William Nisbet.
The Bowery, built long, long ago
By Bishop Bowns, as you all know
For pleasure and not just for show
We loved the dear old Bowery.
The building, we did all adore
Tho it didn’t have a hardwood floor
There men and women by the score
Did dance in the old Bowery.
From Crampton’s, down to Bruce’s Ranch
Both old and young did there advance
And light as fairies, they did dance
Around the gay old Bowery.
In summer when the sun was hot
We often went to that cool spot
And there a lot of comfort got
In the shade of that old Bowery.
The children from each Sunday School
Went there to play and not to fool
And there observe the Teacher’s rule
In the sacred little Bowery.
The young sparks, they went there to spoon
And hide from the nasty old man in the moon
And oft did not get home too soon
To please their folks, from the Bowery.
Some roughnecks, they would gather here
And sometimes bring a keg of beer
Which made old Sandy Wilson swear
For he was the Bobby for the Bowery.
The student in his leisure hour
Would visit this calm quiet bower
And store his mind with mental power
In Bowns’ good old Bowery.
The old folks, they went there to rest
And watch the sunset in the west
And felt that they were truly blest
In the quiet Almy Bowery.
Some friends we met in days of yore
Have gone unto a fairer shore
Where we hope to meet them all once more
In another lovely Bowery.
Where Scottish, Welch and English too
Will meet just like one family true
And cite the joys that we all knew
In this old hallowed Bowery.
Now let us vow, while we are here
Although our ranks grow less each year
We’ll do our best, each one to cheer
And bless the dear old Bowery.
[signed] Wm Nisbet, Aug 14, 1938
At playing football we were swell
Tam Foulds, he kept the goal right well
Bill Fowler charged wee Jimmie Bell
Right o’er the line in Almy O.
To the Temple of Honor as you know
Sometimes we’d hike to see a show
Where Thomas Cutler was the beau
of half the girls in Almy O.
Sometimes a dance was just the thing
Jock Hunter played his fiddle string
Johnnie Martin danced the Highland Fling
And shouted good for Almy O.
July 4th and other days
The Bisohp’s Bowery was the place
Where old and young, did jump and race
On the river bank at Almy O.
John Cooper with his tenor voice
His songs they made our hearts rejoice
We swore we’d made a happy choice
By settling down in Almy O.
George Griffin he made quite a speel
The Armstrong’s danced a Scottish reel
And every son-of-a-gun did feel
So full of joy in Almy O.
Old Georgie Reeves served out the beer
Joe Bird, he says, “Don’t bring it ‘ere
For Laban Howard he will swear
To see such stuff in Almy O.”
Matt Morrow, sober, serious chap
He says, “Now Joe, don’t be a sap
For we must surely have a drap
Of Ale in dear old Almy O.”
Then Jimmie Hood and his brass band
There was no better in the land
When they turned out they sure looked grand
In the good old town of Almy O.
Their music filled us up with pep
John Crawford shouted out By Heck
Every blooming man is out of step
Except me, this day in Almy O.
Some other names I’d like to tell
Easton, Crompton, Bruce and Bell
I’m sure no one will go to h—
Who lived in good old Almy O.
We’re here a merry crowd to-day
Our thoughts some forty years away
When to Wyoming we did stray
And settle down in Almy O.
Some come from England, some from Wales
Some from Ireland’s sunny dales
And some from Bonnie Scotland’s vales
To make their homes in Almy O.
From England came Dick Fearn and Bill,
Jim Bowns, Joe Dean, who is with us still
The Burtons, Simms and Browns did fill
Half the camp of Almy O.
From Wales, by Damn, now just look you
Came Blacker, Loveday, Daniels, too,
Williams, Gibbs and Jones so true
Were a credit to old Almy O.
The land of heather sent fine men,
Millers, Nisbets, Scotts, ye ken,
Faddis, Beverage, McPhie and then
They had swell fold in Almy O.
A mining camp, so full of pep,
A better you could never get,
And so we made a solemn bet
To stay right there in Almy O.
To dig the coal out of the mine
Each man and boy did very fine,
And troubles they were left behind
On the big black dump in Almy O.
Our joys and sorrows we did share.
We were just one big family there
And did each other’s burdens bear
For all were friends in Almy O.
We helped each other on the way
A kindly word, we’d often say
Which always meant a happy day
Among our friends in Almy O.
We’ve heard old Mr. Ramsay say
That men who work must have some play
So let us have a holiday
And have some fun in Almy O.
I’ll mention now before I’m done
Blight, Barron, Wilson, Robinson
And Tommy Kirby, made some fun
When he was Judge in Almy O.
Al Peterson and Jimmie Clark
Archie Neal and Stephen Sharp
And Charles Morgan, he was smart
Because he lived in Almy O.
There Bishop [Bowns? Browns?] we all love well
Though he in Almy did not dwell
He always had some good to tell
About us folks in Almy O.
Now we are scattered far and wide
A lot gone to the other side
Where the good Lord says, “Come right inside
All those who came from Almy O.”
And now my story is at an end
I hope no one I did offend
For I’m here and glad hand to extend
To all who lived in Almy O.
We’ll meet again each coming year
And help each other’s hearts to cheer
For the sake of friendship very dear
We made in dear old Almy O.
Wm. Nisbet, Aug., 18, 1934
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