[p 269]
]POEMS YOU MAY HAVE MISSED.
Between the Barn and the Woodhouse.
Between the barn and the woodhouse,
Where oft old Jersey would stand,
I remember ’twas on this self-same spot
Where she kicked Elizabeth Ann.
I could hear the clang of the bucket,
And also poor Annie’s refrain,
And when the family reached her,
She was writhing and groaning with pain.
Mother stooped dawn to caress her