How many of you remember the golden days of yore
When you were an uncouth urchin hanging ’round the village store,
When the loafers saved the country—changed the tariff every day
’Mid the fumes of various mixtures of tobacco-labeled hay,
How you forgot the colored candles and the tempting cookie can
When the door was quickly opened and in walked the Traveling Man.
’Member how some way or other conversation seemed to stop,
When he opened up his samples and your eyes would fairly pop
At experiences he related as he took his order down,
Talked about a three-ring circus—he was better than a clown,