The servants entered in solemn file—
The stout old cook, and the housemaid, Rose,
And the aproned boy, with his smutted nose.
So each of the women, with streaming cheek,
Bent over and kissed him and could not speak;
But he said that they must not grieve and cry,
For they’d meet again in the happy sky.
’Twas longer and harder to deal with Jim—
The child grew grave as he looked at him,
For he thought to himself, “He bets and swears,