In vaudeville the elder jest
Remains the one that's loved the best;
For 'tis the custom of the stage
To venerate and honor age
And look upon the old as blest.
Originality's a pest
That artist's labor hard to best—
Conservatism is the rage
In vaudeville.
The artist's arms are here expressed:
A slapstick argent as a crest
(It is an ancient heritage),
A seltzer siphon gules—the wage
Of newness is a lengthy rest
In vaudeville.