Then glancing at Bangs, who sat to leeward,
Looking as mild as cambric tea,
He said: “I once ’ad—but I soon got cured
Of—a wish to go to Amerikee.
I was tired of always a-drivin’ these cusses,
And so I thought I would like to range”——
“You were right,” said Bangs. “In our Yankee ’busses
It’s the driver who takes (and keeps) the change!”
Sharp glanced the driver at Bangs; then said,
“What scared me of goin’ was this, d’ye see,—