Superintindint waz Flannigan;
Boss av the siction wuz Finnigin;
Whiniver the kyars got offen th’ track
An’ muddled up things t’ th’ divil an’ back
Finnigin writ it to Flannigan,
Afther the wrick wuz all on agin:
That is, this Finnigin
Repoorted to Flannigan.

Whin Finnigin furst writ to Flannigan,
He writ tin pages--did Finnigin.
An’ he tould jist how the smash occurred;
Full minny a tajus, blunderin’ wurrd
Did Finnigin write to Flannigan
Afther the cars had gone on agin.
That’s th’ way Finnigin
Repoorted to Flannigan.

Now Flannigan knowed more than Finnigin--
He’d more idjucation--had Flannigan;
An’ it wore ‘m clane an’ complately out
To tell what Finnigin writ about
In his writin’ to Muster Flannigan.
So he writed this here: Masther Finnigin:
Don’t do sich a sin agin;
Make ‘em brief, Finnigin!"

Whin Finnigin got this from Flannigan,
He blushed rosy rid--did Finnigin;
An’ he said: "I’ll gamble a whole month’s pa-ay
That it’ll be minny an’ minny a da-ay
Befoore Sup’rintindint--that’s Flannigan--
Gits a whack at that very same sin agin.
From Finnigin to Flannigan
Repoorts won’t be so long agin."

Wan da-ay on the siction av Finnigin,
On the road sup’rintinded be Flannigan,
A rail give way on a bit av a curve
An’ some kyars went off as they made th’ shwerrve.
"there’s nobody hurted," sez Finnigin,
"But repoorts must be made to Flannigan,"
An’ he winked at Mike Corrigan,
As married a Finnigin.

He wuz shantyin’ thin, wuz Finnigin,
As minny a railroader’s been agin,
An’ his shmoky ol’ lamp wuz burnin’ bright
In Finnigin’s shanty all that night-
Bilin’ down his repoort was Finnigin
An’ he writed this here: "Muster Flannigan:
Off agin, on agin,
Gone agin. --Finnigin."