Didn't take with the gang--well, no--
But still we managed to use him, though,--
Coddin' the gilly along the rout',
And drivin' the stakes 'at he pulled out--
Far I was one of the bosses then,
And of course stood in with the canvasmen;
And the way we put up jobs, you know,
On this man Jones jes' beat the show!
Ust to rattle him scandalous,
And keep the feller a-dodgin' us,
And a-shyin' round half skeered to death,
And afeerd to whimper above his breath;
Give him a cussin', and then a kick,
And then a kind-of-a back-hand lick--
Jes' far the fun of seem' him climb
Around with a head on most the time.
But what was the curioust thing to me,
Was along o' the party--let me see,--
Who was our "Lion Queen" last year?--
Mamzelle Zanty, or De La Pierre?--
Well, no matter--a stunnin' mash,
With a red-ripe lip, and a long eye-lash,
And a figger sich as the angels owns--
And one too many far this man Jones.
He'd allus wake in the afternoon,
As the band waltzed in on the lion-tune,
And there, from the time 'at she'd go in
Till she'd back out of the cage agin,
He'd stand, shaky and limber-kneed--
'Specially when she come to "feed
The beasts raw meat with her naked hand"--
And all that business, you understand.
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