Before
Van married was
He
scorned to ride a wheel;
Each
night with eager steps I saw
Him
to his sweetheart steal.
But
now each night when supper’s done
I
see him scorch away;
And
now he loves his byke the best,
So
all the neighbors say.
I
questioned him; “my wife,” says he,
For
talking takes the lead;
I
love my wheel the best because
It
is a silent steed.”
Feb. 1918?
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