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SHE'S COMING ON THE FREIGHT. Or, The joint Keeper's Dilemma.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

SHE'S COMING ON THE FREIGHT.
Or, The joint Keeper's Dilemma.

Say, Billy, git ten two-by-four
'Nd twenty six-by-eight,
'Nd order from the hardware store
Ten sheets of boiler plate,
'Nd 'phone the carpenter to come
Most mighty quick—don't wait,
For there's a story on the streets
She's coming on the freight.
O, many years I've carried on
My business in this town;
I've helped elect its officers
From mayor Dram clear down;
I've let policemen, fer a wink,
Get jags here every day;
Say, Billy, get a move on, fer
She's headed right this way.
I don't mind temp'rance meetin's
When they simply resolute,
Fer after all their efforts bring
But mighty little fruit;
But when crowbars and hatchets
'Nd hand axes fill the air—
Say, Billy, git that boiler iron
Across the window there!
It beats the nation—no, I think
The Nation's beatin' me,
When I can pay a license here
And still not sell it free;
Fer I must keep my customers
Outside 'nd make 'em wait,
Because the story's got around
She's comin' on the freight.
There, Billy, now we've got her—
Six-eights across the door,
'Nd solid half-inch boiler iron
Where plate glass showed before;
But, Bill, before that freight arrives
Ye'd better take a pick
'Nd pry that cellar window loose,
So we can git out quick.
ED. BLAIR.