 | A little book of tribune verse |  |
228
WINTER JOYS.
A man stood on the bathroom floor,
While raged the storm without,
One hand was on the water valve,
The other on the spout.
While raged the storm without,
One hand was on the water valve,
The other on the spout.
He fiercely tried to turn the plug,
But all in vain he tried,
“I see it all, I am betrayed,
The water's froze,” he cried.
But all in vain he tried,
“I see it all, I am betrayed,
The water's froze,” he cried.
Down to the kitchen then he rushed,
And in the basement dove,
Long strived he for to turn the plugs,
But all in vain he strove.
And in the basement dove,
Long strived he for to turn the plugs,
But all in vain he strove.
“The hydrant may be running yet,”
He cried in hopeful tone,
Alas, the hydrant too, was froze,
As stiff as any stone.
He cried in hopeful tone,
Alas, the hydrant too, was froze,
As stiff as any stone.
There came a burst, the water pipes
And plugs, oh, where were they?
Ask of the soulless plumber man
Who called around next day.
And plugs, oh, where were they?
Ask of the soulless plumber man
Who called around next day.
November 1st, 1882.
| A little book of tribune verse | |