Page:All quiet along the Potomac and other poems.djvu/178

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IJ2 THE BAGGAGE-WAGON.

With garments dried in country sun Tumbled and tossed within.

Under the locks what finery

Lies travel-stained and worn !

Limp muslins with the sea-kiss on, Flounces on fences torn.

(For how could Kitty stop to think

Of dress on sea-sand wet, When Fred was whispering the while

A vow she don t forget ?

Or how could Lily spare her flounce, Scrambling in breathless fright,

When Silvertop was coming near To woo her, if he might ?)

Methinks mamma will open wide

Her pretty eyes to see How school-boy Fred has packed his trunk

With trophies recklessly ;

Risking by Bramah Pootra eggs The shine of Sunday clothes ;

A tortoise in the collar-box, Birds nests on satin bows.

But oh ! there s baggage coming home

In yonder jostled pile, Packed, outward bound, not long ago,

With jest and happy smile ;

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