Archive for July 8th, 2010

Pension Poetry

July 8, 2010

Pension the School Teachers.

Why do you pension our police
When they have grown so old they cease
To longer guard the public peace.
Are they superior creatures?
And really ’tis beyond our ken
Why we should pay our firemen
Too old to work, a pension when
We quite neglect our teachers.

Those to whose care we trust our youth,
To guide in wisdom and in truth,
They are the very ones, forsooth,
Most worthy of attention.
And since their lives are worn away
In noblest work at paltry pay
We ought to see to it that they
In age secure a pension.

Chicago Evening Post.

The Daily Northwestern (Oshkosh, Wisconsin) Jul 5, 1890

A Plea to The Legislature.

Pension the lawyer who serves you as judge.
Pensions the lady who ladles out fudge.
Pension, be sure to, our noble police.
Pension your aunt, your uncle and niece.
Pension all public officials and sich.
Pension the sucker who fails to get rich.
Pension, of course, each down-trodden mother.
Pension the postman and clerical brother.
Pension the beastie we greet as our daddy.
Pension the kiddy who caters as caddy.
Pension the butcher who sells us our meat.
Pension the cobbler who covers our feet.
Pension the barber who skins us alive.
Pension the barkeep whose mixtures revive.
Pension, by all means, the regular preacher.
Pension, sure pop, the public school teacher.
Pension the plumber, although he’s a layman.
Pension his pal, the modest highwayman.
Pension the store girl, make her lot happy.
Pension her steady — cheer up the poor chappy.
Pension the single man ’cause he’s not married.
Pension the husband because he is harried.
Pension the plowman and pension the poet.
Pension yourselves, don’t mind how you go it.
Pension the black, the red and the yellow.
(And then, if there’s anything left,)
Pension God’s own, the newspaper fellow.

–Gazette Times.

New Castle News (New Castle, Pennsylvania) Mar 15, 1915