“A-hikin’ through a camp on the ole S. P.,
A gypo queen she a-throwed a kiss at me!
The pay was a dollar, and the board cost three,
But I stuck till she beat it with the cook, Hop Lee—
And me pay day—oh, ba-bay!
And me pay day on the ole S. P.!
“How d’ye like that song, ol’-timer?” he drawlingly asked his friend.
“It’s interpretive, to say the least,” Falcon the Flunky vouchsafed.
“They’s a hundred and fifteen verses that I remember,” observed Halfaway, “but I’ll only spring ’em on you two or three at a time. Know what a gypo queen is?”
“Yes, I’ve heard of gypo queens, or shanty queens. A gypo man, or shanty man, as I understand it, is one who owns a very small, dilapidated construction outfit, and takes subcontracts in light work from a bigger subcontractor. His daughter—if he has a daughter—is usually in camp with him, and she flirts with the stiffs to keep ’em on the job, despite the poor grub and poor pay and long hours. Am I right?”