Classic Poem

There was a man in Our Town
And Jimson was his name,
Who cried, "Our civic government
Is honeycombed with shame."
He called us neighbors in and said,
"By Graft we're overrun.
Let's have a general cleaning up,
As other towns have done."

The citizens of Our Town
Responded to the call;
Beneath the banner of Reform
We gathered one and all.
We sent away for men expert
In hunting civic sin,
To ask these practised gentlemen
Just how we should begin.

The experts came to Our Town
And told us how 'twas done.
"Begin with Gas and Traction,
And half your fight is won.
Begin with Gas and Traction;
The rest will follow soon."
We looked at one another
And hummed a different tune.

Said Smith, "Saloons in Our Town
Are palaces of shame."
Said Jones, "Police corruption
Has hurt the town's fair name."
Said Brown, "Our lawless children
Pitch pennies as they please."
Now would it not be wiser
To start Reform with these?

The men who came to Our Town
Replied, "No haste with these;
Begin with Gas--or Water--
The roots of the disease."
We looked at one another
And hemmed and hawed a bit;
Enthusiasm faded then
From every single cit.

The men who came to Our Town
Expressed a mild surprise,
Then they too at each other
Looked "with a wild surmise."
Jimson had stock in Traction,
And Jones had stock in Gas,
And Smith and Brown in this and that,
So--nothing came to pass.

The profligates of Our Town
Pitch pennies as of yore;
Police corruption flourishes
As rankly as before,
Still are our gilded ginmills
Foul palaces of shame.
Reform is just as distant
As when the wise men came.