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I am the fruit
of a million years,
I rode with
Attila the Hun
me once to a martyr's death
Poet and beggar.
priest and king
looks on me as one alone,
Introducing the family of Ray and Ann Bolton....
The Elusive Ancestor, by Merrell Kenworthy
- I went searching for an ancestor, I cannot find him still.
He moved around from place to place and did not leave a will.
He married where a courthouse burned, he mended all his fences.
He avoided any man who came to take the U.S. Census.
- He always kept his luggage packed, this man who had no fame,
And every 20 years or so, this rascal changed his name.
His parents came from Europe. They should be on some list
of passengers to the U.S.A., but somehow they got missed.
- He died before the county clerks decided to keep records.
No family Bible has emerged, in spite of all my efforts.
To top it off, this ancestor who caused me many groans,
Just to give me one more pain, bethrothed a girl named JONES.