A little book of tribune verse A number of hitherto uncollected poems, grave and gay |
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THANKSGIVING, 1881. |
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 | A little book of tribune verse |  |
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THANKSGIVING, 1881.
Last March my mine panned out a fraud—
My wife eloped in May—
A fire broke out and burned my barn
And all the stacks of hay.
The hoppers cleaned my garden out—
My cows took sick and died—
The horses got the pink-eye bad
And dropped on every side.
My wife eloped in May—
A fire broke out and burned my barn
And all the stacks of hay.
The hoppers cleaned my garden out—
My cows took sick and died—
The horses got the pink-eye bad
And dropped on every side.
The bank suspended all at once—
The rust got in the rye—
A cyclone tore the wheatfield up—
And all the wells went dry;
The chickens sickened with the pip,
The hired girl ran off—
The children one by one took down
With croup and whooping cough.
The rust got in the rye—
A cyclone tore the wheatfield up—
And all the wells went dry;
The chickens sickened with the pip,
The hired girl ran off—
The children one by one took down
With croup and whooping cough.
And yet despite this luck, I went
Down to the grocery store
And for a turkey gobler paid
My last two dollars o'er.
I thought I'd kind o' celebrate
Thanksgiving. 'Pon my word,
A tramp broke in the house last night
And stole the plaguey bird.
Down to the grocery store
And for a turkey gobler paid
My last two dollars o'er.
I thought I'd kind o' celebrate
Thanksgiving. 'Pon my word,
A tramp broke in the house last night
And stole the plaguey bird.
November 21st, 1881.
| A little book of tribune verse | |