My dear old Uncle Jogalong
Was very slow, was very slow,
And said he thought that folks were wrong
To hurry so, to hurry so.
When he walked out upon the street
To take the air, to take the air,
It seemed almost as if his feet
Were fastened there, were fastened there.
He thought that traveling by rail
Was hurrying and scurrying,
But said the slow and creeping snail
Was just the thing, was just the thing.
He thought a hasty appetite
An awful crime, an awful crime,
So never finished breakfast, quite,
Till dinner time, till dinner time.
He said the world turned round so fast
He could not stay, he could not stay,
And so he said “Good-by” at last,
And went away, and went away.