Pictured at the right: President Grover Cleveland and his illegitimate son, Oscar Folsom Cleveland. When interviewed in 1884 and asked about Cleveland’s assertion that any number of men could have been Oscar’s father, Maria Halpin was outraged: “There is not and never was a doubt as to the paternity of our child, and the attempt of Grover Cleveland or his friends to couple the name of Oscar Folsom or any one else with that of the boy, for that purpose, is simply infamous and false.” As the child aged, it became quite clear that President Cleveland was, in fact, the boy's father.
Pictured below: A Sturback's Coffee in Versailles (pronounced "Ver-SALES"), Kentucky: supporters all named "Cleveland" ordered coffees -- shown on the bar; however, since they all used the same last name, no one knew which coffee was for whom.
Emmett Lee Dickinson (Emily Dickinson's third cousin, twice removed -- at her request) heard about the "Cleveland Cup Brew-haha" and thought it was silly, so he wrote about it in his now-class poem "Bring me your protest on a cup" (below on the left). His poem inspired third cousin Emily to pen her poem "Bring me the sunset in a cup" (below on the right).
By Emmett Lee Dickinson:
Bring me your protest on a cup
Beckon the morning’s flagons up
And see how many do
Call the names of morning creeps –
Call them as their coffee steeps
Within the cups of brew!
Write down how many names there be
With this new Rebel’s registry
Among the cocky clan –
How many trips the Crackpots make –
How many cups the Nuts partake,
The Daffy Pointless Plan!
Also, who had the iced Latte?
Also, who had the espresso?
Who gets these cups of brew?
Who took the skinny no-whip frap –
With just a single name on tap?
They don’t know what to do!
Who started up this Goofy Stunt
In hopes baristas all will grunt
Their shameful cause with glee?
And after all the names are scrawled
What’s proven when the cups are called?
By Emily Dickinson:
Bring me the sunset in a cup,
Reckon the morning's flagons up
And say how many Dew,
Tell me how far the morning leaps –
Tell me what time the weaver sleeps
Who spun the breadth of blue!
Write me how many notes there be
In the new Robin's ecstasy
Among astonished boughs –
How many trips the Tortoise makes –
How many cups the Bee partakes,
The Debauchee of Dews!
Also, who laid the Rainbow's piers,
Also, who leads the docile spheres
By withes of supple blue?
Whose fingers string the stalactite –
Who counts the wampum of the night
To see that none is due?
Who built this little Alban House
And shut the windows down so close
My spirit cannot see?
Who'll let me out some gala day
With implements to fly away,