The London ‘bus-conductor is a cheery

sort of chap,

With a fund bat ready humour tucked

underneath his cap.

He will talk on any subject — morning,

noon, or night.

But the Peterborough' laddie says nothing

but—“‘Hold tight !"”

The London 'bus-conductor has a smile

for every fare;

He likes to see a pretty girl trip up the

Winding stair.

He gallantly assists her, and asks if she’s

all right,

But the Peterborough laddie says ‘nothing 

but—‘‘Hold tight!”

The London ’bus-conductor has a help-

ing hand to spare

For the crippled, and the aged, and the,

overburdened fare,

But the Peterborough laddies watch them

‘painfully alight,

And, callously indifferent say nothing

but—“Hold tight!” :

If the London 'bus-conductor, on his 

annual holiday,

Were to take a ‘“busman’s holiday” and 

travel up this’ way,

He might instil the knowledge (by &

 method impolite),

That one’s duty is not finished when one

has said —“Hold tight!”