Bill’s Day

Say!
You know Bill—
Bill McKinley from the White House—
He’s got a date to fill
At the Pan-
American Exposition;
He came to town last night
In the pink of good condition,
And today
We get a sight
Of the chap whose sovereign right
It is to rule
The great American
People,
The best on God’s
Footstool.

Hey!
Don’t go ’way,
This is Bill McKinley’s day.
Pay your fifty cents,
Be square,
Go out and see Bill
At the Fair.
To pass him up
Ain’t just polite;
Of course Bill ain’t no funny sight,
But Bill is here
And there’s a swell parade,
And then he’ll
Speak
From the
Esplanade.

Stay!
Don’t hurry off;
Bill won’t hurt you,
No more than any other
Bally-hoo;
Bill’s a big man,
But he’s made of clay
Or ribs, like you and I,
They say.
Have a look—
A long-distance look—
There’ll be others
Looking, too,
He won’t get cross and scowl
At you;
And when it’s done
You’ll be glad you went,
And saw the
Fair
And the
President.