But her husband that ev’ning when rising from tea,
With his hands full of tickets and heart full of glee,
Quite as proud as a lion could be in its lair,
Shouted out: “To the Capes, yes, to-morrow, prepare,
I’ve engaged jolly quarters and paid all the fare!”
To which mother and daughters, with mock debonair,
Chorused forth: “Why, dear papa, we’ve nothing to wear!”
With a look most bewildered he clutched at a tray,
For his mercantile courage was oozing away,
And his features were grim ’neath his carroty hair;