Explore "Reid, the Candidate" by Eugene Field on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
I saw a brave compositor / Go hustling o'er the mead, / Who bore a banner with these words: / "Hurrah for Whitelaw Reid!"
"Where go you, brother slug," I asked, / "With such unusual speed? " / He quoth: "I go to dump my vote / For gallant Whitelaw Reid!"
"But what has Whitelaw done," I asked, / "That now he should succeed? " / Said he: "The stanchest, truest friend / We have is Whitelaw Reid!
"There are no terms we can suggest / That he will not concede; / He is converted to our faith, / Is gallant Whitelaw Reid!
"The union it must be preserved -- / That is this convert's creed, / And that is why we're whooping up / The cause of Whitelaw Reid!"
"If what you say of him be sooth, / You have a friend indeed, / So go on your winding way," quoth I, / "And whoop for Whitelaw Reid!"
So on unto the polls I saw / That printer straight proceed / While other printers swarmed in swarms / To vote for Whitelaw Reid.