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Show "'TIS CON-FE-RENCE AGAIN" By Angus Nicholson. 4 (Republished by Request.) I The yokel mounts the old gray mare the lasses, I pinafored, I Are be-ribboned for as much as ma could possibly I afford; I The lowing herds look sadly as the pageant gig- I gling goes I Arrayed in quite a panoramic carnival of clothes; I And the raven's loud staccato links in duet with I the wren, I As all proclaim the joyous news, " 'Tls con-fe- I rence again." I Things were In frightful ferment down at poor I Malinda Ann's, I Where the cats had lapped the liquid from the I foaming milking pans; I But she's joined the glad procession, and no I mortal eye has seen I A prettier thing than Ann is In her purple crln- I oline; I . Her hair is crimped with papers, but they'll al. j be missing when She. cavorts athwart the temple, for " 'Tis con- fe-renco again." The streets are aromatic with the scent of new mown grass, And your eyes are flecked with whiskers as the bearded elders pass; And what dreams of bliss bucolic Fancy's fleeting fleet-ing foibles weave As the rural maiden smiles and hides a giggle in her sleeve; And the furbelows she wears would test a rhetorician's rhet-orician's pen As they flaunt the tidings far and wide, " 'Tis con-fe-rence again." Soon the gray mare will be mounted, soon the go-carts for the folks Will be drawn by homesick oxen in home-manufactured yokes; But still the throng awaits beneath Maroni's golden horn For the long expected signal of the glad millennial millen-nial morn; But we think that when a message comes from that high denizen It will bo about as follows, viz: '"Tis con-fe-renco again." |