As recited by Thomas F. Byron.
The lady was young, charming and gay,
Chilled with the wind of a winter's day;
The pavement was covered with snow and sleet,
And I found it a task for to keep on my feet.
Just then, with a short, stifled scream of alarm,
This fair one went down and bumped her arm;
I stopped, looked around, then her I espied;
Within three-quarters of an hour, I was close by her side.
After struggling some time, I got her on her feet;
She turned and said thank you, in a voice, oh, so sweet;
I raised my hat gracefully, and then raised both feet;
Like a thousand of bricks I came down in a heap.
In an instant I sprang to my feet once again;
Although you could see that I was in great pain;
Half dazed and bewildered, I stood for a while,
Scraping mud off my clothing and trying to smile.
Suddenly I forgot all my bruises, so sore,
Slowly I limped to the lady once more;
Pardon me, madame, but you seem quite alone;
If you have no objections, I'll escort you home.
Laughing and chatting, onward we sped; |
Occasionally rubbing the bumps on my bead;
Then, to my surprise, she begun to act queer;
She became very nervous, as though something she feared.
I then got a jar that loosened my teeth,
By the toe of a boot, I was raised off my feet;
Regaining my senses, I ran for my life-
The secret is this: She was somebody's wife.