The spats we wear are pure as snow--
We are so careful where we go;
We don't go near the vulgar bus
Because it always splashes us.
_Chorus._
We take the road with trustful hearts,
Avoiding all the messy parts;
However dirty you may get
We'll keep the White Spat spotless yet.
At night there shines a special star
To show us where the puddles are;
The crossing-sweeper sweeps the floor--
That's what the crossing-sweeper's for.
_Chorus._
Then take the road, etc., etc.
I know it doesn't look much, just written down on paper; but you try
singing it and you'll find you're carried away.
Of course there ought to be an international verse, but I'm afraid I
can't compete with the one in my model:--
"Look round: the Frenchman loves its blaze,
The sturdy German chants its praise;
In Moscow's vaults its hymns are sung;
Chicago swells the surging throng."