The Shunter.

You've told us all about the man who keeps the permanent way,

And, of course, it's right such useful chaps as he should have their say;

But there are others on the list can sport a bit o' bunting,

And one of these, remember, please-The Lad Who Does the Shunting!

He toils by day, he moils by night, in weather wet or fine,

His job is marshalling the “goods” ere they go on the line;

And storms may roar, and rain may fall, but, every peril fronting,

He works away through night, through day, and Gets on with the Shunting.

His eye must ever watchful be, and clear must be his brain,

His body strong and active too, to stand the stress and strain;

He knows each time he goes to toil, danger or death confronting,

Nerves of steel and firm-set heel he needs Who Does the Shunting.

As he turns the points he must not give a thought to child or wife,

Lest a moment of forgetfulness should cost a mate his life;

And rough the work he has to do, all finer feelings blunting,

And oft' an accident pulls up The Lad who Does the Shunting.

No matter how the world may wag, or what may be his fate,

He takes his chance for good or ill, he's at it ear' and late;

He does his duty with a will, his good name ne'er affronting,

But prays some day still better pay Will Bless the Lad who's Shunting.

Wm. C.