The Excursion Boat

Into the boat the breeze blows fair, It blows across the deck; It blows the little children's hair,-- They get it in the neck.

And in this picture you may see The happy girls and boys, So true to life,--but thankful be You cannot hear the noise.

The great steam-whistle's fearful squeaks. The band, ill-tuned and loud; The babies with their screams and shrieks, The bustle of the crowd.

Grown People, you'd prefer, afloat, A private yacht, I'm sure; Then shun the gay excursion boat Unless you're very poor.