An' you turn a stray g in their doin's, an' tack an odd d on theiran'.
There ain't no great good comes of speakin' the words so polite, as I see,
Providin' you know what the facts is, an' tell 'em off jest as they be.
An' then there's that readin' in corncert, is censured from first unto last;
It kicks up a heap of a racket, when folks is a-travelin' past.
Whatever is done as to readin', providin' things goes to my say,
Sha'n't hang on no new-fangled hinges, but swing in the old-fashioned way."
And the other four good district fathers gave quick the consent that was due,
And nodded obliquely, and muttered, "Them 'ere is my sentiments tew."