REFORM IN OUR TOWN

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.