Who Has The Floor

I am an orator of note,

     My speeches flash from pole to pole;

My arguments go down the throat

     Of every spell-bound, listening soul.

A hush comes o’er the audience,

     A breathless silence hovers o’er;

“Sh! Sh!” they say, “we must give way,

     For Wit and Wisdom holds the floor.”

My wife with admiration in

     Her soft eyes near the front doth sit;

Proud is she of the harlequin

     Who belches forth with power and wit.

Then homeward do we wend our way,

     To talk our family matters o’er;

Where I in fear sit in the rear,

     And she, the Speaker, holds the floor.

Aug. 28, 1893

B. Courier,

 July 1, ‘94