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Wit and Humor of America, The Vol 07

A WINTER FANCY

(Little Tommy Loq)

BY R.K. MUNKITTRICK

My father piles the snow-drifts
Around his rosy face,
And covers all his whiskers—
The grass that grows apace.
And then he runs the snow-plough
Across his smiling lawn,
And all the snow-drifts vanish
And then the grass is gone.


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