So it came one solemn evenin’ in a Presbyterian rain
Mr. Scroper all in silence gently took the Northern train;
All he left was one small message to a friend who shared his home,—
When the darned affair blows over, telegraph for me to come.
So he sat one summer mornin’, far away in Montreal,
Musin’ on his recent patrons, while at heart he darned ’em all,
When there came a little letter datin’ from his recent home,—
“All the thing is quite blown over, back again we bid you come.
“For last night we had a tempest,—while the mighty thunder rang,
Up there came a real guster, which blew down the whole shebang.