THE BOUNDARY QUESTION.
The parlours of a house in Pleasant Row
Were occupied by Mrs. Snow;
The first-floor front and back
Were tenanted by Mrs. Black.
As neighbours, it is doubtful whether
They might not, perhaps, have lived and loved together,
But for their occupations ever clashing—
Both took in washing!
In quarrels they might ne'er have been entangled,
With bitter, friendship's cup had ne'er been dash'd,
If Mrs. Snow alone had wash'd,
Or had the fates ordain'd that Mrs. Black had mangled.
But destiny had otherwise decreed!
On the same house the passer-by might read
Two boards inscribed with letters large and clear,
"Washing done," said one;
The other, mocking, answered "here."
Heart-burnings soon arose,
Both wish'd to boil their clothes,
A wish, on either side, extremely proper,
Yet neither one was worth a separate copper.
But linen (as to all the world is known)
Is not got out of hand by being boil'd alone;
Another process it must needs abide—
It must be dried;
The operation of the tub
Was, in this instance, not the only rub!
In little houses it is always found,
The space is small allowed for drying ground.
Such was the fault in mapping out the Row
Inhabited by Mesdames Black and Snow;
The boundary question they could never settle,
The copper feud had put them on their mettle;
And, to this day, it's not agreed, in fine,
Where each shall be content to draw the line.