Progress Is Our Motto
Electrical appliances have superseded steam,
Old time sailing vessels are an antiquated dream;
We have our horseless carriages driven by the rich,
Our ladies wear silk stockings but never take a stitch;
We have wireless telegraphy which flies o’er land and sea,
We play upon the piano but never touch a key;
The belly-ache of former days is appendicitis now,
And we are eating creamery butter that never saw a cow.
Though progression is our motto and modern times have come to stay,
Thank God! We raise our babies—
In the good old fashioned way.
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