Along in November, when chill was the weather,
Two ballots was cast in a box together;
They nestled right up close like brolher an' brother,
You couldn't tell one of these votes from the other.
They was both rum votes,
An' sanctioned the license plan;
But one was cast by a jolly old brewer,
An' one by a Sunday school man.
The Sunday school man --- no man could be truer,
Kept busy all summer denouncin' the brewer;
But his temper cooled off with the change in the weather,
An' late in the fall they both voted together.
The Sunday school man has allus been noted
For fightin' saloons --- except when he voted;
He piled up his prayers with a holy perfection,
But he knocked 'em all down on the day of election.
The cunnin' old brewer was cheerful an' meller,
Says he, "I admire this Sunday school feller,
He's true to his church, to his party he's truer
He talks for the Lord, but he votes for the brewer!"
From Ozark Folksongs, Vance. Collected from Leone Duval, MO 1925.