THE MOURNERS.

White Ribbon, Volume 25, Issue 294, 18 December 1919, Page 6

THE MOURNERS.

(J. A. Montague, in “Atlanta Georgian.’’) A loan shark sat on his empty safe, He was down to his utmost dime, And he gazed across at a vacant cafe (Let it stand, for we nerd the rhyme). And he dropped three tears on his shirt front (which, For a loan shark, is going some); And he wailed, “Alas. 1 was good and rich In the days of the Demon Rum. “He used to harr ythe boys in here. At the end of each perfect day. And stood around with a jovial leer. While I garnered their weekly pay; But they’ve cancelled the good old gin-mill’s lease, And emptied its shining shelves \nd all of the lads I used to fleece Are spending their coin themselves.”

A jailet stood in his emptv jug. And puffed at a cheap cigar. As he gazed at a hungrv croton bug That crawled up an iron bar. “Dear me." he said, with a choking sob, “This business is on the hum ; I shudder for fear I shall lose my job Since they whip-sawed the Demon Rum.

“He used to serve as mv puller in. And, niy, how the business grew ! He would stand around with a kindly y 1 in Whilst the cell-house doors clanged to; But since he was canned in Washington. Mv trade is so nearly d’ad That th< v’re going to pud the building down And nut up a school, instead.”