Nonsenseorship

Grandma's sitting in her attic,

Oiling up her automatic.

Mid-Victorian is her style,

Prim yet gentle is her smile

As she fits the cartridges

One by one, and softly says:

"Grandson is a Dry Enforcer.

Grandpa is a Legger-

All for one and one for all-

I'll never die a beggar.

Bill brings booze from Montreal,

Grandpa lets him through-

Oh, life's been rosy for us folks

Since the red-light laws went blue."

Pretty Sadie, aged fourteen,

To a lamp-post clings serene.

"What's the matter?" some may ask.

On her hip she wears a flask

Labelled "Tonic for the Hair"-

"Hic," says Sadie, "we should care!"

"Father is a corner druggist-

Why should I abstain?

Brother is a counterfeiter,

Printing labels plain.

I can buy grain alcohol

As all the neighbors do;

And if you treat me right I'll lend

My formula to you."

Sits the plumber, man of metal.

Joining gas-pipes to a kettle.

'Neath the bed his wife is lying

Rather silent-she is dying

From some gin her husband gave her.

He's too busy now to save her.

"Things," he sings, "are looking upward;

I am making stills.

Soon we'll cook the stuff by wholesale,

Running twenty 'mills.'

What we make and how we make it

Doesn't cut no ice.

Anything you sell in bottles

Brings the standard price."