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Show By T. G. Gone is the January blast, The winter winds' unceasing wail; And thankful be, for in the past Is that they call the clearance sale. A month I've been a prisoner . A hermit I nay, do not scoff. Abashed, in fact afraid to stir With "Women's Clothing One Half Off." I try to find the latest news. Sensational! I give a start "All skirts, except the blacks and blues, Will be cut down at least a part," "A Third is Off Our Stockings" Whoa ! I won't believe, and turn to scoff Amazed to find that just below "All ladies' waists are now half off." Aside from the pneumonic chilis, The dames may get, so thinly clad, And from the symphony of thrills A fellow gets, who looks Egad!, Imagine what may happen soon, A quaint effect nay, do not scoff, But wait the worst before you swoon, For things so far are just "half off." t& |