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1881–1942

THE COMING OF BAY

Frank Leslie Thomson Wilmot

Bay does n't stay in the stars any more; He did n't much cry nor care When God pushed him out of a big star door Into the everywhere.

I ringed him up on the telephome And down he flied to me! Did n't you know how Bay came home? I got the push-cart, see?

And wheeled him in the front-yard door Just one way and another, I did n't make mud-marks on the floor, Or scratch the paint on the front-way door,

‘ Cos I am a careful brother; I putted him into the new white cot, I covered him up till he grew quite hot, And then called mother to see;

So Bay does n't stay in the stars any more But only with mother and me.

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