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Poem

"NEVER again,’ said Mrs. Green, as she swayed in her rocking chair,
‘Never again will I think one house big enough for two to share;
Never again will I go away with another family,
I’ve had a month of that game this year, and once is enough for me.

‘I fried the fish and I stood all day in a kitchen stifling hot,
While Mrs. Burroughs, arrayed in pink, sat out in a shady spot;
And we were to share in the work, you know, but little the work she did;
Whenever there was any work to do she hurried away and hid.

‘Her children — impudent little brats — were always abusing mine,
They were always yelling for something, too!
In a week I was sick of their whine;
Oh, she’s all very nice in town, I know, when her hair has the proper friz,
But you’ve only to live with that woman a week to know what she really is.’

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