8713 Frederick Street Spokane 6, Washington
(Written for his Father)
Old Charlie was an engineer
Back in the days of steam;
To live again that yesteryear
Had always been his dream.
The sound of quiet, rushing steam,
Of cinder-filled exhaust,
The clank of bull gears it would seem
Were doomed forever lost.
The puff of straw-fire up the stack,
The whistle, full of cheer,
The creaking platform at the back,
He’d given his soul to hear.
One day an old-time Case he bought;
He scraped and brushed it bright__
‘I’ll make it just like new,’ he thought
He worked all day and night.
Charlie had been a Fancy Dan,
The folks who know him say
Was what is called a well-dressed man
Before IT came his way.
Now his shirt is torn, his pants are
ripped,
He doesn’t wash his face;
His knuckles smashed, his nails
chipped,
He works upon that Case.
The tractor’s got a brand new face,
Unmarred by passing time;
But Charlie looks just like the Case
When it was cached in grime.
The tractor’s cared for like a pup,
Now it’s Dapper Dan,
And Charlie seldom washes up
But he’s a happy man.
