THE OMNIBUS CONDUCTORS' LAMENT.
Such meddling sure was never known,
We wish we could be left alone;
Why could they not contented rest
With placing badges on our breast?
There's none that could with patience bear
His heart upon his sleeve to wear
But we are taken by the throats,
Made to unbosom on our coats;
And the conductors' badge must be
The badge of shameful slavery.
But now another act they've passed,
More cruel even than the last;
It says we shall not dare to race
But only go a certain pace.
Oh! have we not been always taught
That racing is a noble sport?
Unless with energy we drive,
Our horses can't be kept alive.
But Parliament goes on to say
We shall not loiter on the way
'Twixt one and t'other can we know
The rate at which we ought to go?
'Tis hard to say, 'twixt this and that
What Parliament is driving at.
And then—'tis quite beyond a joke,
We're even not allowed to smoke;
What right has Parliament to say
That fashion's laws we shan't obey?
They'll tell us next, 'tis like enough,
They will not have us up to snuff;
'Tis most unjust to treat us thus,
And be so busy with each bus!