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No. 24. The Farmer's Daughter.


Oh, here we are as thus you see,
Each one a farmer's daughter.
We know just when to legislate,
And when we had not oughter.


So we won't have any of your banker's sons
To kneel to us and bow, sir;
For we can do without a man,
If he can't follow the plow, sir.

The fifteen thousand that Armour paid,
To buy a legislation,
Was not the proper thing to do
In the face of an honorable nation.


So we won't have any like Geo. A. Peck,
At Washington to loiter;
He schemes to work the farmer hard,
And swindle the farmer's daughter.

So, when we're hunting a candidate,
Oh, never do you doubt, sir;
We're sure to find a man that's read
How Peffer planned The Way Out, sir.


When brokers are freed from all their harm,
And lobyists are dead, sir.
The banker'll bow unto the farm
And come to us for bread, sir.