And jest loaf around here,—say, Jim, will you smile?
Tom Fakes was the chum,
Down in Frisco, of Sam;
And one mornin' there come
These here telegram:
"You can sell for five hundred,
Come down by the train!"
Sam By-Joed and By-Thundered,—
'Twas whistlin' quite plain,
And down to Dutch Flat rushed with might and with main.