band,
And ogle the ladies arrayed on the stand.
Ah, every exhibit in stall or in hall,
From hooked rug to hossflesh and punkin and
all,
Takes on a new meaning, assumes a new light,
And is, for the moment, a wonderful sight.
And people hang over the stuff that’s displayed,
They swig up whole barrels of red lemonade,
And hark to the fakirs and tumble to snides,