THE SONG OF THE EXTRA CLERK
We are a fine body of men,
All truly good knights of the pen,
For our knowledge and work
Every permanent clerk,[1]
Gets all of the credit “ye ken.”
You never hear about we,
And the reason is clear as can be,
If they take notice of us,
There would be a fuss,
For we’d have to get paid, don’t you see?
As it is, the Permanent Staff,
In its sleeve has reason to laugh,
For the poor Extra Clerk,[2]
Does most of the work, [3]
While considered merely riff-raff.
We never get drunk on our pay
As “permanents” do, so they say,
If we did we’d be sick,
For they’d throw us out quick,
And we’d lose our “so much” a day.
It pains us to hear the remarks
Made by the Permanent Clerks,[4]
About their low pay,
And the Parliament’s way
Of acting by Fitz and by sTarts. [5]
When you come to boil down the facts,
Notwithstanding things in the Acts,
Permanent Staff is too small
Or is no good at all,
Else why Extra Jimmies and Jacks.
