The engine soon begins to squeak, But nary a thing to oil her; Impossible to stop the leak,-- Rip, goes the boiler.
The captain on the promenade Looking very savage; Steward and the cabin maid Fightin" "bout the cabbage; All about the cabin floor Pa.s.sengers lie sea-sick; Steamer bound to go ash.o.r.e,-- Rip, goes the physic.
Pork and beans they can"t afford, The second cabin pa.s.sengers; The cook has tumbled overboard With fifty pounds of sa.s.sengers; The engineer, a little tight, Bragging on the Mail Line, Finally gets into a fight,-- Rip, goes the engine.
[Footnote 13: To tune of _Pop Goes the Weasel_.]
THE HAPPY MINER
I"m a happy miner, I love to sing and dance.
I wonder what my love would say If she could see my pants With canvas patches on my knees And one upon the stern?
I"ll wear them when I"m digging here And home when I return.
Refrain: So I get in a jovial way, I spend my money free.
And I"ve got plenty!
Will you drink lager beer with me?
She writes about her poodle dog; But never thinks to say, "Oh, do come home, my honey dear, I"m pining all away."
I"ll write her half a letter, Then give the ink a tip.
If that don"t bring her to her milk I"ll coolly let her rip.
They wish to know if I can cook And what I have to eat, And tell me should I take a cold Be sure and soak my feet.
But when they talk of cooking I"m mighty hard to beat, I"ve made ten thousand loaves of bread The devil couldn"t eat.
I like a lazy partner So I can take my ease, Lay down and talk of golden home, As happy as you please; Without a thing to eat or drink, Away from care and grief,-- I"m fat and sa.s.sy, ragged, too, And tough as Spanish beef.
No matter whether rich or poor, I"m happy as a clam.
I wish my friends at home could look And see me as I am.
With woolen shirt and rubber boots, In mud up to my knees, And lice as large as chili beans Fighting with the fleas.
I"ll mine for half an ounce a day, Perhaps a little less; But when it comes to China pay I cannot stand the press.
Like thousands there, I"ll make a pile, If I make one at all, About the time the allied forces Take Sepasterpol.
THE CALIFORNIA STAGE COMPANY
There"s no respect for youth or age On board the California stage, But pull and haul about the seats As bed-bugs do about the sheets.
Refrain: They started as a thieving line In eighteen hundred and forty-nine; All opposition they defy, So the people must root hog or die.
You"re crowded in with Chinamen, As fattening hogs are in a pen; And what will more a man provoke Is musty plug tobacco smoke.
The ladies are compelled to sit With dresses in tobacco spit; The gentlemen don"t seem to care, But talk on politics and swear.
The dust is deep in summer time, The mountains very hard to climb, And drivers often stop and yell, "Get out, all hands, and push up hill."
The drivers, when they feel inclined, Will have you walking on behind, And on your shoulders lug a pole To help them out some muddy hole.
They promise when your fare you pay, "You"ll have to walk but half the way"; Then add aside, with cunning laugh, "You"ll have to push the other half."
NEW NATIONAL ANTHEM
My country, "tis of thee, Land where things used to be So cheap, we croak.
Land of the mavericks, Land of the puncher"s tricks, Thy culture-inroad p.r.i.c.ks The hide of this peeler-bloke.
Some of the punchers swear That what they eat and wear Takes all their calves.
Others vow that they Eat only once a day Jerked beef and prairie hay Washed down with tallow salves.
These salty-dogs[14] but crave To pull them out the grave Just one Kiowa spur.
They know they still will dine On flesh and beef the time; But give us, Lord divine, One "hen-fruit stir."[15]
Our father"s land, with thee, Best trails of liberty, We chose to stop.
We don"t exactly like So soon to henceward hike, But h.e.l.l, we"ll take the pike If this don"t stop.
[Footnote 14: Cowboy Dude.]
[Footnote 15: Pancake.]