Riding Down From Bangor

Riding down from Bangor, on an eastbound train     After weeks of hunting, in the woods of Maine     Quite extensive whiskers, beard, mustache as well     Sat a student fellow, tall and slim and swell     Empty seat behind him, no one at his side     Into quiet village, eastern train did glide     Enter aged couple, take the hindmost seat     Enter village maiden, beautiful, petite     Blushingly she faltered, Is this seat engaged?     Sees the aged couple, properly enraged     Students quite ecstatic, sees her ticket through     Thinks of the long tunnel, thinks of what he will do     Pleasantly they chatted, how the cinders fly     Til the student fellow, gets one in his eye     Maiden sympathetic, turns herself about     May I if you please sir, try to get it out?     Then the student fellow, feels a gentle touch     Hears a gentle murmur, Does it hurt you much?     Whiz! Slap! Bang! Into the the tunnel quite     Into glorious darkness, black as Egypts night     Out into the daylight glides that eastern train     Students hair is ruffled, just the merest grain     Maiden seen all blushes when then and there appeared     A tiny little earring, in that horrid students beard.