“A little beef?—for dinner—hey?
Beef and herrings did you say?”
“I didn’t say so!” he loudly roar’d—
But his voice took wing and upward soar’d.
“Don’t worry—you won’t have to wait,
I’ll get your dinner before ’tis late.”
“Don’t want no dinner!” he yelled in her ear,—
“Gal darn ye! can’t I make ye hear?”
“Hain’t got no beer for you,” said she,
“You needn’t get mad and swear at me!”
“Beg pardon!” he yelled with voice immense,
“But I certainly mean’t you no offence”—
“Fence? you’ll find out if there’s a fence or not
If you don’t get out—now! on the spot!
All you know is to make comments—
Great pile you know about our fence!”
“To sell you something was my plan—
Here Madam! don’t you want a fan?”
“Me want a man! how could you guess?
Of course my answer must be yes.
Me! want a man! what’s that I hear?”
And she put the trumpet to her ear.
“Don’t shoot! don’t shoot!” the peddler said,
And instantly turned on his heel and fled.
SONG OF A SUFFRAGETTE
With apologies to A. P. S.
This world would be happy, and lovely indeed,
If the men were banished, of them there’s no need;
Now the ambitious women must fight for their due—
With the pesky men-folks we’ll have no more to do!
Chorus
They don’t like to work, Oh no!
(Men and work don’t agree you know.)