“How much do you want for your A. Street lot?” Said a real estate man to me. I looked as if I were lost in thought And then I replied: “Let's see;—
Black's sold last year at fifty the foot And without using algebra that should put My figure at sixty now, I guess, Or a trifle more, or a trifle less.”
I was anxious to sell at fifty straight, Or I might have been glad of forty-eight. Oh, yes, I'm a bit of a bluff, it's true; What sort of a bluff are you?
“And what do you think of these railroad rates?” The man with a bald brow said, “For you have travelled through all the states And have heard a good deal and read.”
“The railroad lines,” I wisely replied “Are the lines with which our trade is tied, And the wretches who take their rebates set New knots in the bonds under which we fret.”
But, now I remember, I once rode free And forgot that the road rebated me! Oh, yes, I'm a bit of a bluff, its true; How much of a bluff are you?
“You've been to hear‘ Siegfried’ and found it fine?” Cried a classical friend one day. “I'm sure your impressions accord with mine, But I want your own words and way.
And, oh, “the tone-color beats belief,” And, oh, “dynamics,” and oh, “motif,” And “chiar-oscura, how finely abstruse,” And oh, la-la-la, and oh, well, what's the use?
For the only thing I understood in the play Was that dippy, old dragon of papier-mache. Oh, yes, I'm a bit of a bluff, it's true; What style of a bluff are you?
“And the senator should, you believe, be returned?” Said a newspaper-man to me. “He's as rotten a rascal as ever burned,” I said. “May I quote?” asked he.
“Oh, no,” I replied, “if you're going to quote, Just remark that his friends are regretting to note That the exigencies of the party case Indicate that he should n't re-enter the race.”
For the senator sometime may possibly be Interviewed by a newspaper-man about me. No, none of these cases may quite fit you, But what sort of a bluff are you?
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