Should any one of the readers of
this Cycle doubt the enduring greatness of the lines, let him consider
that I, Wolfgang Copernicus Addleburger, have seen fit to introduce them
to immortality.
[1] Since the salary-books of the Metropolitan Street Railways show,
during the year 1906, 182 conductors named Smith in their employ, 38 of
whom were named William Smith and 12 William Henry Smith, it is easy for
the reader to conceive my task in establishing the identity of our Poet.
W. C. A.
The Love Sonnets of a Car Conductor
Prologue
Did some one ask if I am on the job?
I sure am to the pay-roll with my lay,
A hot tabasco-poultice which will stay
Close to the ribs and answer throb-to-throb.
Here have I chewed my Music from the cob
And followed Passion from the get-away
Past the big Grand Stand where the Pousse-Caf?
Christens my Muse as Jennie-on-the-Daub.
Hark ye, all marks who break the Pure Fool Law,
How I, the Windy Wonder of the Age,
Have fought the Tender Passion to a draw
And got my mug upon the Sporting Page,
Since Love and I collided at the curve
And left me with a Dislocated Nerve.
I
Am I in bad? upon the tick of nine
Today the Pansy got aboard my ship
And sprung the Trans-Suburban for a trip.
Say, she's the shapely ticket pretty fine!
Next to her pattern Anna Held looks shine
And Lilly Russell doesn't know the grip.
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