And the fish got west all over the town,
And the middlemen cried, “We’re in for a shower,
If this goes on! Why the price will come down!
For men will dine, and—if they can—cheap,
And the public seems waking at last from its sleep—
It’s so precious tired of groaning!”
Three bankrupts are showing their empty hands,
And all that they get for their pains is a frown,
And a “Serve you right—why, ’twas your demands
That for years have plundered and starved the town!”