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Show I THE MOTHER CODE Who'll, for the mothers, write a code? Let's hear somebody speak Who has a plan to put them on A forty hour week? She rises .with the early birds And all the family 'wakes; She scrubs their necks, inspects i their ears, And stirs a batch of cakes. Then father she gets off to work, The children to their schools; ' i The dishes also she must wash And put away the tools. S She sweeps the floors and makes j the beds, ( The time slips by too soon j She must have lunch all ready f The crowd comes home for noon, f She has to wash and dry the clothes, I To iron them and mend; And so the jobs for her do do Just never seem to end. f Along 'bout midnight Tommy wakes j All choked up with the croup; She slips out quietly with him f So's not to rouse the troupe. I With sixteen hours for a day, I She'd soon have in her time, And four dvs out of every v:.ek s Her life could be sublime. But then, I guess, for mother codes t The need has been destroyed, I Because among rhe mother class t There are no unemployed. Ed. Tuttle, Heber, Utah. |