FINALE.
I was so disappointed I was mad enough to swear;
The train had gone to Morrow and had left me standing there.
The man was right in telling me I was a howling jay;
I didn't go to Morrow, so I guess I'll go to-day.
THE WASHERWOMAN'S SONG.
Wring out the old, wring out the new,
Wring out the black, wring out the gray,
Wring out the white, wring out the blue—
And thus I wring my life away.
An occupation strange is mine;
At least it seems to people droll
That while I'm working at the line
I'm going on from pole to pole.
Where'er I go I strive to please,
From morn to night I rub and rub;
I'm something like Diogenes—
I almost live within a tub.
To acrobats who vault and spring
In circuses I take a shine;
They make their living in the ring,
And by the wringer I make mine.
My calling's humble, I'll agree,
But I am no cheap calico,
As some folks are who sneer at me;
I'm something that will wash, you know.
I smile in calm, I strive in storm,
With life's adversities I cope
My duties bravely to perform;
My motto—While there's life there's soap.
Wring out the old, wring out the new,
Wring out the black, wring out the gray,
Wring out the white, wring out the blue—
And thus I wring my life away.