It was a Bishop bold,
And London was his see,
He was short and stout and round about,
And zealous as could be.
It also was a Jew,
Who drove a Putney bus--
For flesh of swine however fine
He did not care a cuss.
His name was Hash Baz Ben,
And Jedediah too,
And Solomon and Zabulon--
This bus-directing Jew.
The Bishop said, said he,
"I'll see what I can do
To Christianize and make you wise,
You poor benighted Jew."
So every blessed day
That bus he rode outside,
From Fulham town, both up and down,
And loudly thus he cried:--
"His name is Hash Baz Ben,
And Jedediah too,
And Solomon and Zabulon--
This bus-directing Jew."
At first the busman smiled,
And rather liked the fun--
He merely smiled, that Hebrew child,
And said, "Eccentric one!"
And gay young dogs would wait
To see the bus go by
(These gay young dogs in striking togs)
To hear the Bishop cry:--
"Observe his grisly beard,
His race it clearly shows,
He sticks no fork in ham or pork:--
Observe, my friends, his nose.
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