old johnson

by horace p sternwall

i was standing on the corner when i heard my bulldog bark i turned and saw old johnson he was standing in the dark me and him went back a ways with nothing good between us him and his buddy jackson rode me like a couple of hyenas what had i done to him lately to make him look so foul suddenly he stepped from the alley with a most menacing scowl who are you and your bulldog he asked with a slippery smile to invade my territory with your simpering whimpering guile I do not know your uncle I ianswered with a frown but I have every right to see the show when i choose to come to town be that as it may, he smirked but the cards have all been dealt and you may be astonished when they are turned up on the felt i scorned his imputations and whistled for my dog but long will i remember what emerged then from the fog oh you who walk the cobbled streets and lounge in doorways dim beware of old man johnson beware , beware of him! there are those who deal with devils or pray to angels bright but beware of those like johnson who shine their shoes at night the fog swirled all around me as he faded from my view but i would not bake his biscuits and neither, i think, should you