Classic Poem

Oh , a jovial cop was Patrolman O'Roon
As he walked up and down on his beat,
And he'd frequently carol a classical tune
In a voice that was mellow and sweet.

Large crowds used to follow O'Roon as he strolled,
And they'd burst into rapturous cheers
As he sang “When the Sands of the Desert Grow Cold,”
And for encores “The Two Grenadiers.”

At times he'd recite from the classical bards—
He knew Milton and Shakespeare complete;
Or he'd do clever tricks with a hat and some cards
As he strolled up and down on his beat.

All the wives in the neighborhood used to say “Gosh,
But Patrolman O'Roon is a jool!”
For he'd help with their cooking, their mending and wash,
And he'd dress all the children for school.

One day on his beat, 'twas a spring afternoon—
He was singing the Lucia Sextet—
Two strangers approached him and said to O'Roon:
“Won't you help us to settle a bet?”

“My name's J. P. Morgan,” the first said, polite,
“And my friend Henry Ford here's called Hank,
And we bet General Pershing a million last night
We could break in the National Bank.”

“Yes, I've heard of you both,” said O'Roon, quite impressed,
“And I'll be very glad to assist,
For I like nothing more than a good-natured jest.”
Then he hummed a concerto by Liszt.

Then they jimmied a passageway into the bank
While O'Roon stood on guard at the door,
And he chuckled with glee as he thought of their prank
And he said: “My, won't Pershing be sore!”

Then O'Roon hit the watchman and laid him out cold,
While they blew up the safe with a crash;
And they carried out bundles of greenbacks and gold—
About seventeen million in cash.

Then they said to O'Roon: “We're so glad that we've met,
And we'll see you again very soon,
For you've been awfully decent tOhelp win our bet.”
“Not at all,” said Patrolman O'Roon.

Then they each shook his hand and they bid him “Good day,”
And they speedily vanished from sight.
In the distance they heard O'Roon singing: “Oh, say,
Can you see by the dawn's early light——”