There is an agitation on foot to secure an eight hour day for nurses; but, so far, there has been no talk of downing thermometers.
He was a man of the union clan And a Labor secre-tary. He fell unwell and beneath the spell Of a little nurse named Mary. Now, Mary was no little lamb, And the tenets that he taught her They turned her head and she voted "red" When the mad strike fever caught her. Then he missed his gruel, and he thought it cruel That he was so neglected One winter morn; and, all forlorn, He rang - and was neglected. And when she came she said, "My name Is henceforth Trotsky Mary. We've downed thermometers, my friend: You've won, dear secre-tary!"
The Mooch of Life
|Copyright © Perry Middlemiss 2002-03|