The Wangan Camp

The wangan camp! *

The wangan camp!

Did ye ever go a-shoppin’ in the wangan camp?

You can get some plug tobacker or a lovely corn-cob pipe,

* The wangan is the woods store that most of the Maine lumber camps maintain.

Or a pair o’ fuzzy trowsers that was picked before they’s ripe.

They fit ye like your body had a dreadful lookin’ twist;

There is shirts that’s red and yaller and with plaids as big’s your fist;

There are larrigans and shoe-packs for all makes and shapes of men,

As yaller as the standers of a Cochin China hen,

The goods is rather shop-worn and purraps a leetle damp,

--But you take ’em or you leave ’em--either suits the wangan camp.

The wangan camp!

The wangan camp!

There is never any mark-downs at the wangan camp.

The folks that knit the stockin’s that they sell to us, why say--

They’d git as rich as Moses on a half of what we pay.

I haven’t seen the papers, but I jedge this Bower war

Is a-raisin’ Ned with prices--they are wust I ever saw.

I was figg’rin’ t’other ev’nin’ what I’d bought, --by Jim, I’ll bet

That a few more pairs o’larrigans will fetch me out in debt.

For I’ve knowed a stiddy worker to go out as poor’s a tramp ‘Cause he traded som’at reg’lar at the com- p’ny’s wangan camp.

The wangan camp!

The wangan camp!

They tuck it to you solid at the wangan camp.