82 THE FOGY DAYS AND NOW ; 



Vile rings are formed to consnmate, 

 And foulest sciiemes are designed ; 



Oft worse men are placed in power, 

 To swindle the weak are combined. 



This day an humble, honest man. 

 Is trodden under out of style ; 



Is tho't a man of no git up, 



Voted out of rank, rank and file. 



'Twas in this progress we fell short. 

 Sought for the truth, even prized it; 



Had no more sense than pay our debts. 

 Condemned trickery, despised it. 



Wore woolen jeans, home tanned boots, 

 Had shirts hitched to our collars ; 



Our breeches had the fogy flap. 

 But pockets filled with dollars. 



Yes, you call us old-time fogies, 

 Our old-time ways you have dropped; 



New things, new ideas every day. 

 From the fogy world you've flopped. 



If your progress was most for good, 

 Good and evil both run along, 



Side by side, do their waters flow, 

 But evil seems the biggest prong. 



One flows on with gentle ripple. 

 Other rushes with a mighty roar ; 



The one, but laves its gentle banks. 

 But the other is flooding o'er. 



The first progression know^n was sin, 

 First development brought unrest, 



First advance was in devilment, 

 And proved to be a bad invest. 



