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Frank Crumit
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Riding Down From Bangor
Riding down from Bangor on the eastern train,
After weeks of hunting in the woods of Maine,
Quite extensive whiskers, beard. moustache as well,
Sat a student fellow, tall and slim and swell,
Empty seat behind him, no-one at his side,
Into quiet village eastern train did glide,
Enter aged couple; take the hindmost seat,
Enter village maiden, beautiful petite.
Blushingly she faltered,
'Is this seat engaged?'
See the aged couple properly enraged.
Student quite ecstatic, sees her ticket 'Through'
Thinks of the long tunnel
Thinks what he might do.
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Pleasantly they chatted; how the cinders fly,
Till the student fellow gets one in his eye,
Maiden sympathetic turns herself about,
'May I, if you please, sir, try to get it out?'
Then the student fellow feels a gentle touch,
Hears a gentle murmur 'Does it hurt you much?'
Whiz Slap Bang . into tunnel quite,
Into glorious darkness, black as Egypt's night.
Out into the daylight glides that eastern train,
Student's hair is ruffled just the merest grain,
Maiden seen all blushes when then and there appeared
A tiny little ear-ring in that horrid student's beard.
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