And having asked God’s guidance in a printed prayer or two,
They put their heads together to determine what to do.
They debated, thought, suggested, till at last “dear Brother York,”
Who last winter made a million on a sudden rise in pork,
Rose and moved that a committee wait at once on Brother Eyer,
And proceed to rake him lively for “disturbin’ of the choir.”
Of course the motion carried, and one day a coach and four,
With the latest style of driver, rattled up to Eyer’s door;
And the sleek, well-dressed committee, Brothers Sharkey, York, and Lamb,
As they crossed the humble portal took good care to miss the jam.