3. Eleventh Avenue Racket

THERE is something terrible

about a hurdy-gurdy,

a gipsy man and woman,

and a monkey in red flannel

all stopping in front of a big house

with a sign “For Rent” on the door

and the blinds hanging loose

and nobody home.

I never saw this.

I hope to God I never will.

Whoop-de-doodle-de-doo.

Hoodle-de-harr-de-hum.

Nobody home? Everybody home.

Whoop-de-doodle-de-doo.

Mamie Riley married Jimmy Higgins last night: Eddie Jones died of whooping cough: George Hacks got a job on the police force: the Rosenheims bought a brass bed: Lena Hart giggled at a jackie: a pushcart man called tomaytoes, tomaytoes.

Whoop-de-doodle-de-doo.

Hoodle-de-harr-de-hum.

Nobody home? Everybody home.

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