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by Unknown

The lengths of pipe forgotten lie in the shadow of the shed,

Dinged out of symmetry they be and all with rust are red;

The husband gropes amid the mass that he placed there anon,

And swears to find an elbow-joint and eke a leg are gone.

So fared it with good Mister Brown, when his spouse remarked: “Behold!

Unless you wish us all to go and catch our deaths of cold,

Swift be yon stove and pipes from out their storing place conveyed,

And to black-lead and set them up, lo! I will lend my aid.”

This, Mr. Brown, he trembling heard, I trow his heart was sore,

For he was married many years, and had been there before,