( Written for the 'Newhome' sewing machine company in 1886 )
The shades of night were falling fast,
As through Chicago streets there passed
A spanking rig, at lightening gait --
Two sewing machines comprised the freight --
Along the wagon's sides, so gay,
In golden letters, as bright as day,
Shone out that old familiar name --
The dealers' guide to wealth and fame --
Behind this wagon, spick and span
A lightening-running greyhound ran;
With gracious head and slender shanks,
And lettered plainly on its flanks,
Oh come, New Home, a maiden cried
And linger easy at my side
The driver winked and threw a kiss
Some other day I will, dear miss.
Beware an old man yelled, beware!
Of t'other wagons have a care;
Go gently, or you'll get upset,
A voice replied, "Well I guess not",
What's this, a bulldog barked so bold;
A handsome hound, I'll have him culled
The simple hound proved strong as fleet,
And chewed him into sausage meat
Silent, their course was onward sped;
The road was quickly cleared ahead.
And growling drivers gave the pass,
Whilst muttering low in smothered wrath:
Some time before the sun went down,
The New Home man drove back down town
And gaily sang "I've made a mash
And sold my two machines for cash"!