And Jones had stock in Gas,

So—nothing came to pass.

[Pg 40]  The profligates of Our Town Pitch pennies as of yore; Police corruption flourishes As rankly as before, Still are our gilded ginmills Foul palaces of shame. Reform is just as distant As when the wise men came.

[Pg 40]

Pitch pennies as of yore;

As rankly as before,

Foul palaces of shame.

As when the wise men came.

[Pg 41]

[Pg 41]

WHEN THE SIRUP’S ON THE FLAPJACK

  When the sirup’s on the flapjack and the coffee’s in the pot; When the fly is in the butter—where he’d rather be than not; When the cloth is on the table, and the plates are on the cloth; When the salt is in the shaker and the chicken’s in the broth; When the cream is in the pitcher and the pitcher’s on the tray, And the tray is on the sideboard when it isn’t on the way; When the rind is on the bacon and likewise upon the cheese, Then I somehow feel inspired to do a string of rimes like these.

[Pg 42]

[Pg 42]

BREAD PUDDYNGE

  When good King Arthur ruled our land He was a goodly king, And his idea of what to eat Was a good bag puddynge.

He was a goodly king,

Was a good bag puddynge.

  The bag puddynge he had in mind Was thickly strewn with plums, With alternating lumps of fat As big as my two thumbs.

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