IN Wilmington City there lives an official,
          His art is all thumps, on the touch
He fondles with leather. His hinder initial,
          The third in the alphabet. Such
A wonderful Licker,
Round-shouldered Big Sticker,
          Nix bicker, no kicker, not much.

Lively Andrew
Once a plan drew,
          Of a bank around the corner.
Someone blabbed,
He was nabbed.
I am sure he feels forlorner
Than two superannuated
Pair of candlesticks, ill mated.
          What can he do?
          Trouble doth brew
          Fast for you,
          But don't stew.

He's now introduced to,
Is properly noosed to,
          Th' joist, that dark post called black Susan.
Andrew, don't fret
Cancel your debt,
Howl away, squirm, pay your dues an
Ah! thank the Spanker all zeal.
Th' round-shouldered Spanker whose speel
          Is swinging the strap,
          And making it slap,
Blistering Slobs while they squeal.

          Moonlight Charlie
          Stole some barley;
Hear the voice say, "Beat it, beat it,
Do it properly, complete it."
Thus spoke Peter Patsy Farley,
But too late, the Copper socked him,
Nabbed him, ran him in and locked him
In the Workhouse near the trolley,
Turned him over to the jolly
Warden, such a merry Switcher.
Every lashing makes him richer.
Ten gold dollars he did net;
Ten sharp slaps did Charlie get.

          His conscience only once
          Troubled this Spanking Dunce.
At the meeting of the board,
          Some one read an ancient clipping.
It has struck some tender cord.
          How it drives the Warden skipping
From the room completely awed,
          Thinking of that painful whipping,
When he lashed poor little Mabel.
Read the clipping. News by cable.
It is rather painful reading,
Full of much unwritten pleading.
See the little girl all bleeding.

Little Mabel broke some chalk,
          We have read of that before.
See the Warden tremble, balk,
          See the quiver of his jaw.
Sneak, poor Warden, sneak, reflect,
          See him shiver, skip out early.
He don't like to recollect
          How he whipped the little girlie,
Forcing the poor gentle pet
To take off her chemisette,
          Leaving her fair,
          Lily white, bare.

The soft spoken Licker
          With iron-grey hair,
Is never a kicker.
          They always declare,
The Round-Shouldered Slapper
          Would rather whip Guys
Than plug the strap clapper
          And eat cherry pies.
Like slippery elm
He stands at the helm.

The Spanker is dapper,
          Quite neat in attire.
His trade is a Sapper
          That quenches all fire
Effect. Yet this Licker
Is never a kicker.
One regular Clicker,
He never would dicker
          With minor objections.
          No smooth genuflections,
          None such.
This gentle nose picker
Is never a tricker,
No, never would bicker
Not much!

This legalized Switcher
          Heaping up cash,
Gets richer and richer
          Swinging the lash.

The pride of the Work House,
This regular skunk louse,
          Will soon need a crutch
To hold up his figger,
While spanking some nigger.
          You can't beat the Dutch,
          As such, no not much.

The Round-Shouldered Flogger
Is never a clogger.
          He still plies his trade.
          No shovel or spade
Swings out with more zeal—
That strap. Oh that squeal,
While peal after peal—
          The chime in the tower
Announces the Licker
Is working—one sticker—
          No flicker nor cower,

No nothing can sever
This man from his whip.
Forever and ever
The Guy gets the clip.
The Round-Shouldered Sticker
Quite happy don't bicker.
          No crutch
Props th' licker, no kicker,
Not much.

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