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1862–1942

XXVIII.

Samuel Ellsworth Kiser

The chap's a beau we did n't know she had He come from out of town somewhere, they say; I hope he's awful homely, and that they Will fight like cats and dogs and both be sad.

But still there's one thing makes me kind of glad: The long-legged clerk must stay and work away, And, though he keeps pretendin’ to be gay, It's plain enough to see he's feelin’ bad.

I wish when I'm a man and rich and proud, She'd see me, tall and handsome then, and be Blamed sorry that she did n't wait for me, And that she'd hear the people cheerin’ loud

When I went past, and down there in the crowd I'd see her lookin’ at me sorrowf'ly.

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