Yawcob Strauss and Other Poems/Little Tim's Revenge
LITTLE TIM'S REVENGE.
- "Little Tim " was the name of him
- Of whom I have to tell;
- And he abode on the Western road,
- In the busy town of L--.
- As trains went down through the little town,
- He peddled through the cars
- His stock in trade, — iced lemonade,
- Cake, peanuts, and cigars.
- Conductor Dunn was the only one
- Who'd not this trade allow;
- And so 'twixt him and little Tim
- There always was a row.
- At last one day they had a fray;
- And Timothy declared
- He'd "fix old Dunn, 'as sure's a gun,'"
- If both their lives were spared.
- So off he went with this intent,
- And sold his stock in trade:
- His earnings hard he spent for lard,
- And started for "the grade."
- (This place, you know, is where trains go
- Upon the steep hillside,
- And where — with lard — it isn't hard
- To get up quite a slide.)
- He took a stick, and spread it thick,
- Remarking with a smile,
- "There'll be some fun when Mr. Dunn
- Commences to 'strike ile'!"
- He lay in wait: the train was late,
- And came a-puffing hard,
- With heavy load, right up the road
- To where he'd spread the lard.
- They tried in vain: that fated train
- Could not ascend the grade:
- The wheels would spin with horrid din
- Yet no advance was made.
- Then little Tim — 'twas bold in him —
- Cried out in accents shrill,
- "Remember me, Conductor D.,
- When you get up the hill!"
- MORAL.
- Success in trade is up a grade
- That we should all ascend,
- And with a will help up the hill
- Our fellow-man and friend.
- When "on the road," don't incommode
- The seeker after pelf,
- Or ten to one, like Mr. Dunn,
- You'll not get up yourself.
