The Day After Mardi Gras

‘Twas the day after Mardi Gras. All through the house

Not a creature was stirring – not even a mouse.

For the master and Madame were still yet a-bed,

And the cook o’er the stove fire was nodding her head.

The master had toasted p’raps one toast too much;

And the Madame was dreaming of fairies and such,

And the boss murmurs out, as he rolls in his sleep:

“I’ll see you ten better!” It made Madame weep,

When she woke and she heard such language as that –

She had begged for the price of a ten-dollar hat.

And he swore by the beard of Mahomet (deceased)

That she had his pockets of all small change eased.

“With your friends from the country you’ve had a hurrah,

And doubtless spent with them a boss Mardi Gras.

And -.” “Will you stop talking,” quoth he in the bed,

“My head is so aching. I wish I were dead.”

Perhaps ’tis well Mardi Gras comes but once a year

And gives us all a Lenten chance masked to appear.

The Mascot, Feb. 10, 1883