I never suspected the old arm-chair.
I was guileless then, but I gaze on it now
With a fluttering pulse and a bended brow,
’Twas there she sickened and almost died—
Of chair—as professors sage decide.
Say it is folly, and deem me weak,
For my “creepy” spine and my blanching cheek;
But I dread it, I dread it! and mean to bear
To the broker’s shop that old arm-chair.
Funny Folks. May 29, 1886.