And appearing in Congress.
But the scarcity of shekels
Proved that trading was no fun,
And poor Jones, tattooed with freckles
By the scorching Southern sun,
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Bravely read the Nation daily,
Till, quite versed in politics,
Dreaming of "corruption," gayly
Rode one morning up to Licks'.
"Licks'" was an old-fashioned inn,
Where the men of pure devotion
Drank "America" in gin,
Rum, and many another potion.
Licks controlled the colored section,
And Jones departed in high glee,
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