I couldn’t hear his voice inside, and I thought he might be dyin;
So I took a crow-bar and smashed it in.—There was ’Bijah, peacefully lyin’,
Inventin’ a way to git out again. That was all very well to say,
But I don’t b’lieve he’d have found it out if I’d left him in all day.
Now, sence I’ve told you my story, do you wonder I’m tired of life?
Or think it strange I often wish I warn’t an inventor’s wife?
Mrs. E. T. Corbett.
MISS EDITH HELPS THINGS ALONG.
