When Washington was president
He was a mortal icicle;
He never on a railroad went,
And never rode a bicycle.
He read by no electric lamp,
Ne'er heard about the Yellowstone;
He never licked a postage stamp,
And never saw a telephone.
His trousers ended at his knees;
By wire he could not snatch dispatch;
He filled his lamp with whale-oil grease,
And never had a match to scratch.
But in these days it's come to pass,
All work is with such dashing done,
We've all these things, but then, alas--
We seem to have no Washington!
