A Union Working Card

(By T. Wiedemann, “Bosco”)

Two brothers working at one trade

Hadn’t met for quite a while.

One had a discontented look,

The other wore a smile.

One brother dressed up neat and clean;

Had money left beside.

The other had to hit the road;

Hadn’t money for to ride.

Twas on last Labor Day they met

At the Temple up on Pike.

Tom said to Sam: How can you ride,

While I always have to hike.

How is it, Sam, you dress so neat,

And always pay your rent;

While I can’t get a decent suit,

And never have a cent.

How can you smoke such good cigars

You always smoke the same;

While I just have to smoke a pipe;

I tell you, it’s a shame.

How is it you get paid so much,

Your hours are so short:

While I can’t make enough to live

And never have no sport.

How is it when you meet your boss

He greets you on the street,

While every boss I ever have

Ne’er looks up when we meet.”

I’ll tell you Tom, why these things are,

It really isn’t hard

This piece of pasteboard is the cause;

It’ a Union Working Card.

-BOSCO