Part 34 (1/2)

FITCH _a Pelter of Railrogues_ PICKERING _his Partner, an Enemy to Sin_ OLD NICK _a General Blackwasher_ DEAD CAT _a Missile_ ANTIQUE EGG _Another_ RAILROGUES, DUMP-CARTERS. NAVVIES and Una.s.sorted SHOVELRY in the Lower Distance

_Scene_--The Brink of a Railway Cut, a Mile Deep.

_Time_--1875.

FITCH:

G.o.ds! what a steep declivity! Below I see the lazy dump-carts come and go, Creeping like beetles and about as big.

The delving Paddies--

PICKERING:

Case of _infra dig._

FITCH:

Loring, light-minded and unmeaning quips Come with but scant propriety from lips Fringed with the blue-black evidence of age.

'Twere well to cultivate a style more sage, For men will fancy, hearing how you pun, Our foulest missiles are but thrown in fun.

(_Enter Dead Cat._)

Here's one that thoughtfully has come to hand; Slant your fine eye below and see it land.

(_Seizes Dead Cat by the tail and swings it in act to throw._)

DEAD CAT (_singing_):

Merrily, merrily, round I go-- Over and under and at.

Swing wide and free, swing high and low The anti-monopoly cat!

O, who wouldn't be in the place of me, The anti-monopoly cat?

Designed to admonish, Persuade and astonish The capitalist and--

FITCH _(letting go):_

Scat!

_(Exit Dead Cat.)_

PICKERING:

Huzza! good Deacon, well and truly flung!

Pat Stanford it has gra.s.sed, and Mike de Young.

Mike drives a dump-cart for the villains, though 'Twere fitter that he pull it. Well, we owe The traitor one for leaving us!--some day We'll get, if not his place, his cart away.

Meantime fling missiles--any kind will do.

_(Enter Antique Egg.)_ Ha! we can give them an _ovation_, too!

ANTIQUE EGG:

In the valley of the Nile, Where the Holy Crocodile Of immeasurable smile Blossoms like the early rose, And the Sacred Onion grows-- When the Pyramids were new And the Sphinx possessed a nose, By a storkess I was laid In the cool papyrus shade, Where the rushes later grew, That concealed the little Jew, Baby Mose.

Straining very hard to hatch, I disrupted there my yolk; And I felt my yellow streaming Through my white; And the dream that I was dreaming Of posterity was broke In a night.