I've hit her up a few myself when Winter days was done;
With twenty million on the shelf a-waitin' for the sun,
I've brung my Winter stake to town an' moseyed to be first
Of all the lumberjacks to drown an 18-karat thirst;
But I renig, an' I give up, an' I lay down an' quit:
I thought that I could quaff the cup an' hit it up a bit;
But of my thirst I ani't so proud, an' I just set an' grieve —
For I ain't in it with your crowd in town on New Year's Eve.
Last year we broke a donkey gear when things was goin' fine.
The boss he says to me, " Come here. You take the Number Nine
An' git to town, an' git repairs, an' back here New Year's Day
Or (sometimes Mister Murphy swears) or there'll be hell to pay.
An' somethin' else, me fine gossoon, to you I would confide:
If you should see a beer saloon, just tie your thirst outside. "
An' so I rode the Russels down right prompt you may believe —
That's how I come to be in town last year on New Year's Eve.
An' there a friend met up with me (they're always on the spot,
Around where you're supposed to be to lead you where you're not).
He asked me just to have a beer. I said, " Nay, nay, Pauline;
I have a solemn duty here to nursemaid this machine. "
" Well, anyhow, " he says, says he, " it wouldn't be a sin
For you to come along an' see us see the New Year in. "
I knew the time was hours away when Number Nine would leave —
That's how I come in Smith's Cafe last year on New Year's Eve.
Believe me, Smith's is quite a place, with glitter, glass an' gilt,
With window curtains made of lace, an' fit for Vanderbilt.
But, fellahs, once inside of there, it wasn't lights an' gold
That handed me the punch for fair an' knocked me stiff an' cold —
It was another sort of sight that met my backwoods eyes,
It was another thing that night that floored me with su'prise;
For, while the booze was slippin' down, the thirsty to relieve,
There set the ladies of the town that night on New Year's Eve.
But some of them they didn't set as much as you suppose;
For, when her throttle she had wet, at times a dame arose
An' led the singin' of a song or startin' of a shout
To help the merriment along an' see the Old Year out.
No, these was really ladies, boys, the ladies of the town;
The wives an' sisters liked the noise an' cries of " Drink 'er down. "
An' one who loudest seemed to be, you hardly will believe.
Had left at home a babe of three, to riot New Year's Eve.
I don't lay claim to be a saint — in fact, I'm purty rough;
An' I ain't never heard complaint that I don't drink enough.
But I've opinions just the same, old-fashioned though they sound;
An' when you try the drinkin' game, an' riotin' around,
To me a table an' a bar is much alike, I think,
An', it don't matter where you are, a cocktail is a drink.
So, on occasions such as these, my wife at home I'll leave —
I'll do the boozin', if you please, that's done on New Year's Eve.
With twenty million on the shelf a-waitin' for the sun,
I've brung my Winter stake to town an' moseyed to be first
Of all the lumberjacks to drown an 18-karat thirst;
But I renig, an' I give up, an' I lay down an' quit:
I thought that I could quaff the cup an' hit it up a bit;
But of my thirst I ani't so proud, an' I just set an' grieve —
For I ain't in it with your crowd in town on New Year's Eve.
Last year we broke a donkey gear when things was goin' fine.
The boss he says to me, " Come here. You take the Number Nine
An' git to town, an' git repairs, an' back here New Year's Day
Or (sometimes Mister Murphy swears) or there'll be hell to pay.
An' somethin' else, me fine gossoon, to you I would confide:
If you should see a beer saloon, just tie your thirst outside. "
An' so I rode the Russels down right prompt you may believe —
That's how I come to be in town last year on New Year's Eve.
An' there a friend met up with me (they're always on the spot,
Around where you're supposed to be to lead you where you're not).
He asked me just to have a beer. I said, " Nay, nay, Pauline;
I have a solemn duty here to nursemaid this machine. "
" Well, anyhow, " he says, says he, " it wouldn't be a sin
For you to come along an' see us see the New Year in. "
I knew the time was hours away when Number Nine would leave —
That's how I come in Smith's Cafe last year on New Year's Eve.
Believe me, Smith's is quite a place, with glitter, glass an' gilt,
With window curtains made of lace, an' fit for Vanderbilt.
But, fellahs, once inside of there, it wasn't lights an' gold
That handed me the punch for fair an' knocked me stiff an' cold —
It was another sort of sight that met my backwoods eyes,
It was another thing that night that floored me with su'prise;
For, while the booze was slippin' down, the thirsty to relieve,
There set the ladies of the town that night on New Year's Eve.
But some of them they didn't set as much as you suppose;
For, when her throttle she had wet, at times a dame arose
An' led the singin' of a song or startin' of a shout
To help the merriment along an' see the Old Year out.
No, these was really ladies, boys, the ladies of the town;
The wives an' sisters liked the noise an' cries of " Drink 'er down. "
An' one who loudest seemed to be, you hardly will believe.
Had left at home a babe of three, to riot New Year's Eve.
I don't lay claim to be a saint — in fact, I'm purty rough;
An' I ain't never heard complaint that I don't drink enough.
But I've opinions just the same, old-fashioned though they sound;
An' when you try the drinkin' game, an' riotin' around,
To me a table an' a bar is much alike, I think,
An', it don't matter where you are, a cocktail is a drink.
So, on occasions such as these, my wife at home I'll leave —
I'll do the boozin', if you please, that's done on New Year's Eve.