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Show THE CHRISTMAS EXILE. I wander to the closet where I keep my best cigars and wine; When wifey cries: "Stay out of there, The things within it all are mine." Unto the library I wend My way to rest, to think, to read; When wifey cries: "You will offend Me if you go in there, indeed." The upper guest chamber is just The place to sit and weave my song; When wifey cries: "Oh, no, you must Not go where you do not belong." At least, the parlor in the rear Is quite sufficient for my dreams; When wifey cries: "Not there, my dear! You like to poke around, it seems." The cellar! I at last have found A corner to myself but no; For wifey cries: "You're set and bound To see what's hidden down below. And so I am tabooed at home Because my wife has hidden stuff For Christmas present. Hence this gloam! A wilderness would be less tough. Horace Seymour Keller, in N. Y. Sun. |