OUR TRAVELLED PARSON.
“I HANDED HIM THE TICKET, WITH A LITTLE BOW OF DEFERENCE.”
FOR twenty years and over, our good parson had been toiling,
To chip the bad meat from our hearts, and keep the good from spoiling;
But suddenly he wilted down, and went to looking sickly,
And the doctor said that something must be put up for him quickly.
So we kind o’ clubbed together, each according to his notion,
And bought a circular ticket, in the lands across the ocean;