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