While right over the way fourteen kitchen foundations
Of houses unfinished the aching eye greet!
How he first chanced to find it his friends often wonder.
No omnibus runs within miles of his door,—
Nor a train, be it either above-ground or under,
Wakes life with its thrice welcome whistle and roar.
If you call at that house, you'll be knocking and ringing,
Till, with forcible language, you're leaving the place,
When a slavey, who comes up the hall gaily singing,
Flings open the door, with a smut on her face.