CHORUS.
To say she is his mother is a fib as big as many.
Oh fie! Strephon is a rogue;
He'll next declare the Alton's not the best of any.
Taradiddle, taradiddle dee.
COUNSELOR—
I wouldn't say of either what would be thought injurious; But to find a mother younger than her son is very curious, Just as 't would be upon our road to drop an aught that's spurious. Fol de ridle, fol de ridle, fol lol lay.
(Tremulo music.)
QUEEN— When next your convention does assemble, you may tremble. Our wrath when railroad heads offend us is tremendous. They must who underrate our calling "cut rates appalling." Take down our sentence as we speak it, and he shall wreak it. Henceforth, Strephon, cast away your brakeman suit and brakeman pay; another racket you shall play. Of the beauteous Alton Line, favorite Western road of mine, you a G. P. A. shall be. Gentlemen, what do you think of he?
