The O-Wash-Ta-Nong/Volume 3/Number 1/The Lambkin

“Invest in gilt-edge so and so—”
A whisper uttered finger-lipped—
“A chance to make some big-time dough—”
And fifteen thousand suckers slipped!
By word of mouth the tip was spread,
They bought—the stock went down instead.
In manner thus are suckers bled,
Hornswoggled and un-hipped!
“The price of such and such a brew
Is but a dollar fifty cents.
Buy now a thousand shares or two,
And sell for double, one year hence.”
Punch-drunk on words of potent pull,
He bought; and bally bear and bull,
Urbanely sheared and shared his wool—
Then tossed him o’re the fence!
The late P. T. his onions knew—
The showman sure was right.
But now instead of one it’s two
Per minute day and night!
But lambs were born that they be shorn
Of all their wool, and left forlorn;
To “gambol” in the frosty morn—
And ponder on their plight!