Bridging the gap in time from the point at which he lost his wife in the midst of the Great Depression to the post-war years, Samuel Bean showed up again in a brief mention in the Oakland Tribune. Evidently, he had come out with an updated version of his booklet of poetry—this time with the augmented title, “Light in Darkness and Other Poems by a Deaf-Blind Philosopher.”
Tribune columnist Ad Schuster put in a plug for Sam’s book at the top of his “Other Fellow” recap for the day on November 1, 1947, and shared a whimsical piece from the collection.
Samuel W. Bean of Alameda, who is blind, writes verse, philosophical and topical and in it sings of the many doors that are open to those who cannot see. He is out with a little booklet called “Light in Darkness,” and the verse below is one of his lighter efforts. It is called “A Scribbler.”To be a scribbler is no joke;E’en with an education,Wall Mason was a whisky soak,And had no reputation.Until he found himself dead brokeAnd gave booze a vacation.To be a scribbler then of verse,Your pencil you must nibble—Next puff and stew, yea, even curse,While thought and feelings quibble.Then dash off lines in frenzied hasteAnd murmur, “Ish ka bibble.”
Above: "Ish Ka Bibble" postcard from 1915 (courtesy Wikipedia, in the public domain), possibly inspired by the 1913 song by George Meyer and Sam Lewis. Whether the song, the postcard, or the phrase's namesake comedian inspired Sam Bean to employ the nonsensical words, I have no clue...