With lime for extracting the dirt;
With chemicals rot, and with wire-brushes rub!"—
That's the new Song of the Shirt.
Buy! Buy! Buy!
Though I'm but a poor Clerk, with scant "oof,"
Yet it's buy—buy—buy!
(My hosier's bills furnish full proof),
And it's O! to be a slave
To my Laundress, who's worse than a Turk.
I seldom look nice, and I never can save;