The Magazine Spendthrift

                  I.

Last night I dropped in Shaugnessey’s

     The where I buy my books;

Where tucked away in fine display

     They dwell in cosy nooks.

O I delight in Shaugnessey’s,

     Amongst his magazines;

And you who’re poor in literatoor

     Know what such pleasure means.

                  II.

Ye gods! I’d one five dollar bill,

     Tho’ doubt me if you choose;

My wife had said, with girlish dread,

     She needed “Christmas shoes”.

And I was out to purchase them,

     When Satan, by foul means,

Bade me to gaze in Shaugnessey’s,

     Upon his magazines.

                  III.

“Ye Christmasse Numbers” just were out,

     Great God who knows my will,

O where wast thou to trust me now

     With that five dollar bill!

My darling’s shoes I quite forgot,

     I dwelt midst other scenes;

O cruel ways! O Shaugnessey’s!

     O tempting magazines!

                  IV.

The bundle was of goodly size,

     I’d bought them one and all;

The luminous, the humorous,

     From greatest down to small.

And hugging them I hied me home,

     To share with her the prize;

Then cursed my birth and puny worth

     When tears rushed to her eyes.

                  V.

But very shrewd and wise am I,

     And to her very good;

Without demur I’m teaching her,

     As all good husbands should,

To be a second of myself,

Then life will know no “scenes”;

And now doth she, e’en like to me,

     Cry out for magazines!

Dec. 9, 1897

B. Courier,

Dec. 26,

   1898